by Scott, Helen
With each feature, the beast grew larger. Overtaking even the largest of my shadow creatures until its great wings could have encompassed me twice over.
Staggering back to behold my creation, I looked upon the dragon as it roared at me, coating me in its flame. But I didn’t burn. It didn’t hurt me. Instead, as I had forged her, she forged me. Tossing me out of this half-world where dark and light were in constant balance, and into the one where my mate sat clutching me, with his blood the deepest, darkest call of them all.
He didn’t seem to mind when I struck. Didn’t flinch when I bit his throat, when I supped from him. He let me feed. Let me call upon his strength.
I took what I needed, gasping when I pulled back as his blood nourished me, taking away any lingering traces of pain from before, and recharging me until I felt like I was working at top speed once more.
As awareness hit, so did the fact there was a stranger nearby.
My head whipped around, seeking out the danger to my mates, and when I saw him, an Ancient of all things, dressed in leathers from head to toe, with a cut on his torso and boots on his feet, backed up by two weaker Stained males, I saw the male’s eyes widen as he looked at me. Looked at me like no other had.
As respect blossomed on his features, he dropped to his knees and bowed his head in supplication, and only then did my need to slit his throat dissipate.
7
Gideon
It was the silence that pulled me out of whatever trance I’d been in. Like a radio cutting off, all the sound in the room had just stopped, and I found myself gazing about as though I’d just woken up from a long nap. Unfortunately, the fact that I wasn’t in bed with Marcella was the least of my concerns at that moment.
The primary concern I had was why there was a handful of bikers kneeling on the floor in front of my mate. The second was figuring out why my brothers and I weren’t moving to defend her. If they were like me, though, only my eyes were fucking working. My body felt heavy, too heavy, as though my bones were made of iridium.
I glanced over at Darius who was sitting just behind Marcella, as though she’d been on his lap until a moment ago. His eyes were wider than I’d ever seen them before, even wider than when he realized that Marcella was his mate. My gaze pulled back to take in the woman I loved, and I found her standing there, blazing with all her power and glory in a way that made me want to kneel before her as well, but also made all the blood rush to my cock.
Blood dripped down her chin as she licked her lips, with one or two drops launching themselves off her chin and landing on her ample breasts before she could wipe them away. Looking back at Darius, I could see the ragged wound on his neck from where she’d fed.
It made me envious.
Logically, I knew that Marcella needed to feed from him most of all since he was a pursang, but I wanted to nourish and provide for my mate as well. I wanted that wound on my own neck, the ragged bite of her need evidence for everyone to see. I also wanted my cock buried inside her when she did so, but now wasn’t exactly the time for those kinds of thoughts.
When my gaze flitted back to my mate, I found her watching me with hunger blazing in her own eyes, and not just for blood, but for sex as well. I wanted to kick myself. She must have picked up on my thoughts through our bond, and now she was horny and hungry in front of strangers. It made me want to rip their throats out, just so they would never know the scent of my mate’s arousal, but even I could sense the ancient power rolling off them—one in particular. These were not males I wanted to fuck around with.
For a brief moment, a memory drifted across my mind’s eye, one that reminded me of how frequently the other boys at Eastbrook had fucked with me. I had been around sixteen when I’d woken up and found Emrys on the floor by my bedside with his throat torn out. Just as I had woken up, three of the professors had come barreling into the student’s dormitory, rushing over to me and immediately yelling and cursing. Their reaction only stopped when the headmaster came in.
Emrys was rushed to the medical ward, and was left there to heal while I was stuck being interrogated for hours by each of the masters and the headmaster until my head was swirling with their questions. I was put in what amounted to solitary confinement until they could figure out what had happened by talking to Emrys.
They had advised me before they locked me away that if he died, I would as well by their hand. Boys dying wasn’t exactly an uncommon thing at Eastbrook. It was why there weren’t as many brotherhoods policing our kind as there should be.
When Emrys had come to and admitted that it was all a practical joke they’d tried to play on me that had gone wrong, we were both spared any punishment because we were druids, and we weren’t exactly common. More common than time walkers, but not as common as shifters, and with our abilities to control the elements, it meant that there was a greater demand for druid salsangs than the academy could keep up with.
As the memory cleared, I realized I wasn’t staring at Emrys bleeding out by my bedside, but Sylvester on the floor by the wall. He was still alive, it took more than having our throat torn out to kill us—even if it had happened twice in one day—but he wasn’t going to be up and about any time soon.
“Why are you kneeling?” Marcella’s voice pierced my dazed thoughts—my synapses felt like they were wading through peanut butter, and I knew my brothers were just as weakened. We were awake but not, somehow conscious but still. Like ice cubes that were beginning to thaw.
“You are a descendant of the Lady, and the darkness calls to you as does the light,” the most ancient of the bikers whispered.
Marcella turned and looked over her shoulder at Darius, as though she was hoping he would have the answers. He just shrugged. It was a gesture that was so unlike him, but it seemed to fit our current situation perfectly. No one knew what the fuck was going on.
The Ancient, who had hard angles and planes that made up his face, all of which were accented with a short beard, said, “My Lady, we will serve you as you require, just point us at your enemies, and we will be your weapon. All we ask in return is that you share your light with us.”
Marcella’s eyes widened, as did Darius’s, not that I thought his could get any wider. “If you want to destroy my enemies then you can start with the one in this room,” Marcella growled, her voice low and filled with the promise of violence. “If you think you know him, know the foulness he is capable of, then please, search my memories and see how he treated his child and his mate.”
The room became quiet, and I knew the Ancient was taking Marcella up on her offer. She didn’t flinch, even though I knew she hated having anyone in her mind other than us. I only needed to remember how she reacted to Arthur invading her mind earlier to realize that this was a test. If I knew my mate, and I liked to think I did, then she was testing if they would go searching for any other information while they were in there.
My eyes flicked to where Sylvester lay in a pool of his own blood as I waited to see how the Ancient would react. The panic that had been showing on the bastard’s face as he became weaker every second seemed to double at my mate’s words—the asshole would get what was coming to him one way or another.
I was guessing that the bikers had come here for him specifically since he was out of the room we had chained him in, but Lily was gone as well, so maybe they were here for both? Either way, if they obeyed Marcella, then they would be acting against their original goal.
A low growl sounded from one of them, which one, I wasn’t sure. Without missing a beat, the larger of the two was on his feet, with the skinnier guy right behind him. Darius was in front of Marcella in the blink of an eye, but the two of them didn’t come toward our mate. Instead, they went over to Sylvester.
He was off the floor and hanging by the bloody mess of his neck as they stared at him. “You would treat your mate that way? Do you not know how sacred a bond that is?” the larger one demanded.
Marcella pushed her way around Darius so she could get a g
ood view of the action, but he hauled her against his chest to keep her from further approaching her father.
“We always knew you were scum, but this even we cannot abide,” the Ancient stated.
Sylvester screamed as they did something I could no longer see. The noise was cut off, only to be replaced by a sickening sound of steel on bone as his head was being separated from the rest of his body. When his body slipped to the floor, and his head was placed unceremoniously atop the spike, the two bikers turned and presented their bloody blade to Marcella. I glanced back to see Sylvester’s body turning gray and flaky, something I had never seen before. It was like he was burning up, but there were no flames or embers indicating heat, just the ash that was being left behind.
“We will be your blade in the night,” the bigger one promised.
“Maker, Henrick, you’ve lost your mind. You just killed Sylvester McCray. The council is going to have our asses,” Darius said, running a hand through his hair and not bothering to straighten it afterward, showing just how on edge he was feeling. “You know they wanted his head. You just took their fun away.”
“The council can kiss my ass. I’m older than all of them. I’d like to see them try to discipline me,” Henrick retorted with a dark chuckle. It made me nervous, something which shouldn’t have happened, but it suddenly felt like all my childhood fears were in the room with us, and each one was part of the large man.
“Mate,” Marcella called, as she turned to face Darius.
My breath hitched in my chest as I felt the power flare in the room. I knew her pursang was backing her up so that Darius could see she meant whatever it was she was about to say. She reached up and cupped his face with one of her delicate hands before she told him, “I was going to kill him anyway. I just didn’t realize that I had made up my mind until I was presented with the opportunity. Please, don’t be upset.”
“I could never be upset with you, mea vita. If we had talked about it, then I would have been able to come up with a plan for the fallout, that’s all,” Darius replied, looking down at Marcella with a doting expression. The man was truly wrapped around her little finger, just as I was, and I knew that I, for one, loved every second of it.
“Maker, she really is your mate,” the Ancient said in awe, as though he couldn’t believe Darius would be swayed by a young woman.
“Yes, she is. And I’ll thank you to keep your eyes in respectful places, Henrick,” Darius warned, half growling the words.
Marcella snarled at him over her shoulder. The sight of her silver eyes and extended fangs, which glistened under her red lips as she curled them to display her natural weapons, turned me on. She ran her tongue over her fangs, and I knew when she pricked the skin because the perfume of her blood scented the air.
It hadn’t been that long since we had completed our bond with one another, and although I had shared her with Barclay in the woods, I couldn’t wait to have her again, whenever she wanted. If there weren’t some strangers in the room with us, then I would have already been kissing her and stripping her naked.
“Apologies,” Henrick capitulated, dipping his head.
My mate had suddenly turned this ancient being into her puppet, and the only question was, why?
* * *
Barclay
Wake up, little wolf. The words rang in my head like a church bell for a human wedding. I shuddered at what they meant. A peel of laughter rang like wind chimes in my head before the voice continued, No one is going to hurt you or your mates, we just need to speak with you and would prefer you to be awake in our presence instead of drooling in your sleep.
My eyes flickered open, and I saw a large bloodstain on the carpet, as well as a dent in the wall opposite where I had collapsed on the couch, not that I remembered doing so. Marcella was pacing in front of me while Darius was sitting with his head in his hands, and Gideon was working on cleaning up the blood using his elemental powers. Raven was rubbing his eyes, Keiran was slumped into the wall, and Cade had covered his face with his forearm… all in all, it looked like the aftermath of a rowdy Friday night.
“Uh, what happened?” I croaked.
“The Reapers decided to pay us a visit, and apparently one of them can knock us all out. He’s just released us, but you were the last to awaken,” Gid said, his tone clipped, letting me know how irritated he was as he glared at the men in leather that seemed to be trying to hold up the other wall.
Wait. When had that happened? It looked like the damn thing was about to crumble, taking the roof with it.
And was one of them an Ancient?
What the fuck?
“And the blood?” I glanced at Marcella and Darius then at the pool of slick ruby liquid that made my salsang half hungry.
“They swore their allegiance to our mate and killed Sylvester to prove it,” Darius answered with a sigh, before pinching the bridge of his nose as though he could will the mess away. I was surprised that the bikers didn’t speak up for themselves but seemed happy to lurk in the corner. Another Ancient walked in too, and though Darius’s gaze flickered that way, he didn’t say a word. Just watched as the male did something that had the wall and roof stabilizing—shit, that was better than waving a magic wand.
Thoroughly impressed but aware that a roof, newly-fixed or not—was the least of our problems, my words were husky as I warned, “Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I think we’ve got incoming in the form of Morgause and one of her siblings.” I pushed up from the couch and immediately regretted it when my legs wobbled.
“What?” Darius snapped.
“She was in my head again, saying she needed to talk to me while I was awake.” I shrugged, unsure what else I could say since that was pretty much all I knew.
“Maker preserve my sanity,” the Enforcer muttered, as he slumped backward on the armchair beside the hearth.
Marcella moved over to him and climbed into his lap, peppering him with kisses as though she knew exactly what he needed to cheer up. I made myself busy while Marcella worked her magic on Darius because even though I wasn’t jealous, it was too tempting to watch her. Especially when I needed to wake my muscles up, get them working again because they felt like molten saltwater taffy.
“Do we know when they are going to show up?” Keiran asked, apparently with the same idea in mind as he began stretching his arms over his head and cracking his neck too.
“Now.” Morgause’s voice sounded behind me.
I spun and found her standing with Arthur. As soon as I made eye contact with her, my wolf surged forth. Fur and claws were present within milliseconds, and I lost control as my wolf bounded over to her like a puppy to its master. The Mother squatted down and ruffled the fur behind my wolf’s ears while the creature licked her hands like it was paying her homage of some kind. I could barely even focus on anything else at that moment. It was like Morgause had a raw steak in her purse or something, and all I could do was try not to drool as I waited for her to give it to me, even though I was ninety-nine percent sure there was no steak.
“Sires,” Darius greeted, his tone so obsequious even my wolf was disgusted, and he bowed at the waist. “What may we help you with?”
It was like he was a concierge at a five-star hotel or something. Talk about kiss ass. My snout curled into a sneer, but Darius didn’t even take note. I knew why, of course. For all he looked as cool as a fucking cucumber, he was sweating bullets. His unease at being contained in a cabin with two such powerful beings, his mate in potential peril, stank up the place worse than if someone had crapped in the corner.
“You can stop hiding in this cabin and make your presence known in the world,” Morgause answered, while she looked at my wolf with loving, motherly eyes. Which, yup, wasn’t weird.
At all.
Behind the Sires, the bikers settled uneasily against the wall. It was like they were trying to make themselves smaller so they wouldn’t be noticed…
That boded well. Not.
In my wolf
skin, I could scent just how old they were. Even the Stained were far older than many I’d ever come across.
“What my sister is trying to say, is that in order to prevent Merlin from gaining his freedom, we need you to introduce Marcella to the council.”
Cade, ever the butthead, folded his arms across his chest and demanded, “Why?”
“I am the Father of time walkers, am I not?” Arthur growled, his eyes flashing a warning that Cade, once again the butthead, chose to ignore. “Doesn’t it stand to reason that I might have an inkling of what the future holds?” Arthur challenged.
“So you’ve seen us not introducing ourselves and what? The council comes after us?” From the way she was speaking to Arthur, both my mate and my brother seemed to be sharing the same death wish.
“Not only do they come after you, but they succeed in apprehending you at the most inopportune time, leaving Merlin free to release himself,” Morgause warned as she straightened, though her hand still stayed in my wolf’s fur. I really wanted to pull away, but the damn beast wouldn’t let me.
“Surely that’s just one possible future though?” Darius asked. “Seers are notorious for telling those that seek their guidance something that they want to hear, not what will actually come to pass.”
“That’s correct.” Arthur rubbed his chin as though he expected a beard to be there, but it wasn’t. “I can only see limited views, just glimpses really. There are many other possible futures, but I believe it is necessary to avoid that which I saw, so we are telling you to go to the council now, instead of later, and thereby avoid putting the whole world at risk.”
“Couldn’t we just be putting it at risk in another way?” Marcella countered, eyes narrowed.
“Of course, as I said, this was only a glimpse, but it is a definite possibility, and one that should be avoided.” His top lip curled upward as he tacked on, “If possible.”
