Her blood sang to him, burning his eyes a brilliant blue and casting his life force into her. Tora lay unmoving before him. Her full lips cut and bleeding still looked so enticing, so full of smart remarks and life. Tora was the embodiment of what life meant for the wolf. Wild and free. Untamable by society.
When the fire within her was snuffed, the only thing Ollie could think to do was rekindle it. And if that meant an eternity of her animosity, that was something he could live with. As long as she was breathing and snarky, he could deal with the consequences. He’d only lament her anguish at being the thing she seemed to hate.
Pulling back from her to fully look her in the face, Ollie felt the connection growing within him. Something primal and protective. A bond to be molded however one saw fit. She’d unleash hell upon him and he wanted her to have a safe place to slice him into tiny pieces. Her chest began rising and falling once again, giving Ollie the sign he needed to move her.
Scooping the wounded leader into his arms, Ollie looked to Gavin, whose eyes had not left his bride. Rose looked so small, thrown over Conan’s arms, growing heavier with each passing second. Ollie knew that Gavin’s venom was slowing the alpha. Taking Conan’s strength from him, searing his life force away bit by bit. Gavin turned his attention over to Ollie.
“Get her to safety, Oliver. Take her and her clan to Auntie Mo. She’ll know what to do. She’ll keep her safe. Just get everyone as far away from here as you can, brother.” Gavin spoke with resolve. Ollie’s eyes widened. Gavin never used his full first name.
That could only mean one thing.
“Gavin, think about this,” he warned.
“Go. Now,” Gavin snarled. Ollie knew that voice. That sinister, authoritative voice that would not be argued with. So he cradled Tora to his chest and with one last look at Rose and Gavin, the wolf bolted for the castle, trusting the Widows would follow and with them, any sane person left alive.
Gavin
Her heart was slowing, beating less each minute that passed. Seeing her helplessly in the enemy’s arms drove him mad in a way he never knew he could experience. Loathing his inability to relieve her suffering, Gavin stood there coated in gore and stared at his bride in the arms of a dying werewolf; Dahlia flanking its side.
“Well, wasn’t that sweet,” Dahlia drawled, studying her nails.
“Give her to me, Dahlia.” Gavin’s voice bordered on manic.
“I think not, little princeling.” Dahlia strode forward and grabbed a handful of Rose’s tangled blonde curls. The prince wasn’t sure when the wolf had moved away from him, but he stood close to Dahlia and her protective shadows. “I always did hate these curls,” she hissed. Rose whimpered, not able to resist when Dahlia pulled her head to stare Gavin in the face. Dahlia dropped her grip sending Rose’s head lulling to the side with a painful bounce.
Only longing colored her eyes. He feared if she closed them, they would never reopen. His one reprieve was that Rose was not afraid. Fear, along the bond, had shifted to acceptance and a steely resolve that rivaled his own. Gavin pushed as much strength as he could to his bride, his love, to his life, hoping it would be enough to sustain her. He’d afford her every ounce of his being if it meant her suffering would end. He felt the ache in his bones, as if they had been snapped and shattered into a million shards. Magic had drained her so completely that her body had begun to deteriorate.
He felt the pull, the unending need to be with her. So this is what the Alchemist meant by soul bound, forever anchored to one another. His heart beat within her. And if he was being honest with himself, it always had.
Whores and gambling filled a void when he’d cast himself out and left behind the only woman to truly know him. She’d have helped him, had he only asked. She would have helped him defy the world.
But he’d given up.
Thought he loved another.
He would not give up now.
“Dahlia, release her.”
“Oh, I think Daddy and I have better and bigger plans for our little sorceress.”
Daddy? Realization swept through Gavin like a tidal wave. Fucking Coston. That skeevy motherfucker had orchestrated the entire thing, from Dahlia’s disappearance to his parents’ murder to having Rose on the throne. His parents murder…
A tingling numbness crept through Gavin, slinking into his bones as he sucked in a deep breath. He swallowed, his mouth dry, his tongue suddenly parched. A single tear pricked his eye, spilling over and down his cheek as his fingers curled into fists.
Mother…
Father… I’m so sorry.
Dahlia patted a sickly looking Conan on the back. “Let us depart, my sweet. We have what we came for.”
“Dahlia!” Gavin screamed, lurching forward as shadows and ghouls rose to cover the trio.
“G-Gavin…” Rose reached for him as he tore into decaying flesh, fighting his way toward her, extending his own hand.
“Ah ah ah! Can’t have you following us now, can we?” Dahlia swirled her pointer finger, sending him flailing in circles with stone encasing his feet.
“Dahlia!” Gavin wailed again. She smirked over her shoulder at him, satisfied.
Too satisfied.
“Gavin, it’s alright...” Rose’s voice was weak, so low only his vampire hearing could pick up her words. “I-I love you...”
“Rose!” Gavin roared, fighting with all his might to reach her, to touch her. She smiled sadly, silver tears lining her eyes, before vanishing along with her sister. “Rose! No! Goddess be damned!” Gavin screamed, bending to yank at the stone cementing him in place. It wouldn’t budge. “Rosalie! I will come for you!” he choked as his emotions flooded up toward the surface. Power erupted around Gavin Sinclair. Pure, raw, inexhaustible power. It ripped the earth apart, allowing Gavin free rein of his legs. And with his freedom, Gavin rained bloody hell down upon the ghouls and all those who crossed his path.
28
Gavin
Smoke billowed from the carnage in the courtyard. Bodies burned and the smell of charred flesh hung heavily in the air. The Rose Bound ceremony was certainly something that would go down in infamy with Gavin. Sharp stabbing pain radiated through Gavin’s chest, the reminder that he’d failed Rose.
Standing alone in the plaza, having been left the ruins to clean up, Gavin sank to his knees. Tears sprang to his tired eyes, staining red down his alabaster cheeks. He sat alone for what seemed like an eternity. Darkness swept across the sky melding with early morning rays. The fight had lasted the entire night. Gavin pounded the stone beneath him with his fists, the tears and the failure flowing from him as footsteps echoed behind him.
“Gav,” Declan gasped, clutching at his knees as though to catch a breath before sizing up his destroyed older brother. “The Rebellion doesn’t have Aurora. She and Lorelei made it to the Bloodworth Manor safely.” Gavin looked to his brother.
“The Rebellion has Rose. They have my life in their fucking hands, Dec.” Declan nodded, swallowing as he righted himself. Silently, he held out his hand to Gavin. Gavin took it and was pulled to his feet.
“Then we’ll just have to give them a reason to keep her alive.”
To be continued...
About J.R. Walden
Wolves, fae, vampires and witches are only a few of J.R.'s favorite things. She also enjoys riding horses, beach trips, and spending time with her husband and fur babies.
About J.J. Marshall
When J.J. isn't slumming with outcasted princes, hunting down sea witches or saving mankind from a zombie invasion, you can usually find her nose deep into a book or on adventures with her husband, friends, and furbabies.
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Rose Bound: The Rose and King series Book 1 Page 22
