Alpha's Promise

by Rebecca Zanetti

  Her eyelids fluttered open, and she smiled, her expression full of contentment. “Loving you has made me even smarter. I can imagine even more now.”

  His cock jumped inside her. He kissed her sweet mouth, drawing in her taste to keep him sane on the journey to come. “I need to leave tomorrow morning first thing.”

  She started and released his shoulders. “I understand the timing, but I have to go work the equations first.”

  He let her legs drop and then held her until she’d gained her footing. He studied her precious face. “All right.” His hand swept down her back and over the stunning K marking on her butt. She purred. He’d swear to his last days that in the second, she purred. “You’re in my heart. In my soul.” He had to make her understand. Just in case he didn’t return.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Promise paced back and forth in the research room, mumbling to herself and shaking her head. This wasn’t good. Not only was it terrible, it was unfixable. Was that even a word? When was the last time she’d slept? She took a cookie from the tray at the end of the computer table and ate it. Perhaps the sugar rush would help. Demon headquarters was abuzz with everyone working hard to prepare for morning.

  Ivar and Adare walked inside and sat down, both wearing comfortable-looking jeans and shirts.

  “We thought we’d ask for an update,” Ivar said, fixing her with that intense gaze.

  The look shot straight through her body to land in her heart. Hard. She swallowed and pointed to the equations on her newest board. Her stomach cramped, and her throat felt scratchy. “The instruments are interesting but not useful until you get new readings we can compare.” But he’d already reported a change in Quade’s world, so the world was changing. It was simply disintigrating.

  “And?” he asked, his gaze intense.

  The male was certainly getting to know her well.

  She rubbed her temple. “Based on your last experience jumping from Quade’s world, I extrapolated the time left in the wormhole or whatever it is.” She shook her head. “You can’t rescue him. The wormhole is closing, and there won’t be room for two of you. No way.”

  He straightened up in the chair, looking like a tiger about to pounce. “No, it isn’t. I have to at least try to save him.”

  “Yes.” She swept out her hand, ignoring the blue marker in it. “I think you have time to jump there, but it’s closing, and you know it. You can’t bring him back through.” No matter how she worked the problem, the solution was the same. “And from what Quade said about balance, you both can’t be on his world. I don’t know why, but you have to believe what he said.” Her heart hurt as if she’d taken a punch in the chest. “It’s a suicide mission. The path, or wormhole, or whatever it is might not hold even one person for a return trip. It’s closing.”

  Her words hung in the air.

  Ivar sighed. “I don’t want to leave you, but I have to save him. I can’t let him die.”

  Grace stepped into the room, a bandage on her arm. She took a seat next to Adare.

  He looked down at her. “You did not give blood.”

  She met his gaze evenly. “Sure, I did. Why not?”

  The Highlander’s eyes flashed a hot black. “You’ve only been out of a coma for a short time. For the love of all that is holy, do I need to lock you up?”

  Grace rolled her eyes. “No. In fact, once we’re finished with this mission, I’m out of here. Ronan said he can get me a new identity, and I can start living my life. There’s no reason for me to stay here.” She looked pale but determined.

  Adare’s jaw firmed, making him look like one of those ancient warriors.

  Ivar kept his focus on Promise. “Forgetting the wormhole for the moment, tell me about the magnets.”

  She needed more time for the math. Like a century or two. “From what I understand, the magnets polarize the worlds somehow, keeping Ulric’s in place. Or at least they did.” She needed a better description. “Like poles repel each other, and unlike poles attract. Imagine using magnets with gravity and possibly time.” There wasn’t time to diagram it. “When Ronan’s bubble burst, the destruction may have created a demagnetizing field.”

  “Shit,” Adare said. “This is all theory, right?”

  She nodded. “Based on what Ivar reported from his last visit, but yes.” She looked at the diagrams. “My theory is that the magnets on Quade’s world were permanent, or what we call rare earth magnets.”

  “Can we remagnetize them?” Grace asked, looking at the formulas on the boards.

  “Of course,” Promise said. That was the easy part. “You’d want to use lodestone, which isn’t made of metal and can be teleported.” She swallowed and set the marker down. “But this is irrelevant. You’re not going, Ivar. This is most likely a one way trip. Nobody will come home.”

  Adare looked at Ivar and then pushed his chair back, taking Grace with him. “I’ll go see how fast we can hunt up lodestone.” With a nod at Promise, he took Grace’s hand and disappeared out the door.

  Ivar stood and moved toward her, all grace and sleek muscle. “Trust me.”

  She lifted her chin, facing him calmly. “I do trust you.”

  “Then tell me how to get to Quade. The wormhole moved as I was going through it, and I can see by your equations that you know exactly how much.” He cupped her chin. “I’m asking you for this. I have to try and save him. I made a vow.”

  Her entire body hurt all of a sudden, the pain spiraling out from her chest. “You can’t bring him through this wormhole.”

  “I’m asking you to trust me, and somehow, at some point, I’ll bring those instruments back with readings. Just think of the decades of research they’ll have in them since time moves so quickly there.” The intensity in his blue eyes was almost blinding. “Trust me. I will come back to you.”

  She swept her hand to the board. “The math says otherwise.” All her life, she’d depended on math. It was real and could be proven. In fact, she had proofs right there on the boards.

  He leaned in, his masculine scent washing over her. “I know what the math says. Trust me, not the math.”

  She looked up at him. Did he have any idea what he was asking? By the expression on his face, he did. Her heart thumped. He’d said he was all in. Did she have that strength? “I love you, Ivar.”

  “I know,” he whispered, kissing her again.

  She leaned back, her heart cracking. She did trust him. Even more than the math. “All right. This is how you get there after these new changes.” Then she took the marker and diagrammed the solution for him.

  * * * *

  Dawn was finally arriving in hues of gold and pink across a still dark sky. Ivar finished dressing in the protective outfit and took a moment with his brothers, looking at each in turn. Logan and Ronan were happily mated, while Garrett and Benny were very happily not mated. Adare, on the other hand, had shit to work on. But for now, as the six of them stood outside in the rain, he tried to find the right words. “I—” His chest flushed.

  “Ditto,” Benny boomed, slapping him on the back.

  The rest nodded.

  Ronan stepped up. “If I could go instead of you, I would.” His aqua eyes were so much like Quade’s, it hurt to look at them.

  “I know, brother,” Ivar said. “I made Quade a promise, and I have to keep it.” They were bonded in blood and bone. To the soul. He trusted his woman, so he needed to draw on her mathematical skills for a solution. For now, they just had to make sure Quade had time to survive. If there was a way for Ivar to take his place in the meantime, he’d do it. But he needed Quade’s cooperation.

  Logan and Garrett hugged him, and he was careful of Logan’s still healing neck as he hugged them back. They all moved away, and Adare stood before him. “You dragged me out of every funk I’ve gotten into the last few centuries. Thank you,” Adare said, his jaw grim.


  Ivar nodded. “You’re my best friend. Always have been.” He searched for the right words. “I’m coming back. Take care of Promise until I do.”

  “You know it,” Adare said, emotion in his dark eyes.

  “And give your mating a chance. Stop being a bossy asshole and get to know the woman. Grace is special.” Which was probably why Adare was running like hell in the opposite direction.

  “Come back, and you can Oprah me all you want. Here. The packs are all full of what you wanted.” Adare hugged him hard and then stepped back, handing over several backpacks. The final pack, a light blue one, would remain in this world.

  Promise came out the back door and ran to him, hitting him hard. Her eyes were cloudy. “Please be safe. Remember the path.”

  He had memorized her equation already. A twist to the left, more than last time, and hopefully he’d end up where he wanted to be. Hopefully the path wasn’t closing even now. “I love you.” It humbled him that she’d believed him over the math telling her the opposite. That she hadn’t fought him when he’d said he had to keep his promise to Quade. His heart was full of her.

  “I love you too.” She swallowed and handed him a notebook. “If there’s a way somehow, bring back any of the instruments that have survived. Remember that you have me.” She stepped back, tears in her eyes.

  His heart swelled. Even though she had a gigantic brain, her heart was even bigger.

  He cleared his throat and handed over the one blue backpack, which was moving.

  She blinked and took it. An adorable furry puppy popped out, big brown eyes wide, and licked her face. She gasped and helped the dog out of the pack. “Ivar.”

  He nodded. It was the mutt he’d seen on the internet and had Adare get for him. For her. “He’s half golden retriever and half a bunch of other stuff. I thought he could keep you warm until I return.”

  Her eyes welled, and she hugged the squirming puppy close. “You gave me a dog.”

  He nodded. Yeah. She should’ve been given one years ago.

  Logan and Garrett ran up with more backpacks for him that nearly knocked him to his knees. But he stayed upright. He pulled the protective face guard over his head. Looking at his family one last time, he drew on the power within himself and from them and jumped.

  Pain cut into him immediately, and he tried to aim his trajectory the way Promise had said. The wormhole closed in on him, pinching his legs, slicing into his thighs. He screamed into the vortex, but no sound emerged. Then he fell, landing hard on sharp ice and skidding toward the forest.

  Holy fuck.

  It was nighttime, and stars sparkled down, bright in the black sky. The orange forest glowed somehow, inviting him. He lay on his back, looking up at different configurations, more than he’d ever seen. Than most people would ever see.

  He glanced down to double-check that his legs were still attached. Thank God. He’d lost one once, and it had taken forever to rebuild. Scrambling up, he skidded over to the backpacks and gathered them before gingerly moving past spikes of ice for that forest.

  It was colder than before, and the forest too sparse. At least half of the trees were gone and buried beneath more ice. The silence was devastating. How much time had passed in this place?

  The sky crackled open, revealing a purplish red ocean, pulsing against a whole other mountain. It stayed open, and his world tilted, knocking him on his face. He landed, and ice sliced right through his protective face covering to rip his lip. Blood sprayed.

  Seconds later, a creature screamed. Did something smell his blood? Heat squeezed his heart. The crack in the sky closed. Another scream, this one closer. He put his head down and ran, hoping the trail had stayed somewhat the same. This time he wore protective gear on his body and face, so it took longer for the blade-sharp bark to cut him. All too soon his clothing was in tatters, but he was climbing hand over hand, so he took a deep breath.

  Something rustled through the trees below.

  He climbed higher, finally hauling himself into the cave. “Quade?” He lit a match to see better.

  Quade was on his side, facing the wall.

  He couldn’t be dead. Ivar rushed inside just as Quade rolled over, his face a blistered mess. “Quade.” Ivar ripped off his coat and slashed his wrist, shoving it against Quade’s mouth.

  Quade sucked deep, and color returned to his face. His blisters began to heal. “Shit, Viking.” He sat up, his back to the wall. “You came back. Dumbass.”

  Ivar snorted and hitched the backpacks off. “We have blood, food, weapons not made of metal, and lodestones to remagnetize whatever it is that needs magnetizing.” He shoved them toward Quade. “Tell me how to place the repaired magnets, and I’ll do it. You can go home.” He moved a rock out of the way to sit, noticing a worn piece of paper. Looking closer, he could see it was the washed out photograph of Haven Daly he’d brought before. How much time had passed since he’d been there? The paper had yellowed and faded as if it had been hundreds of years.

  Quade’s beard was even longer but had a streak of gray this time. “It takes me from the last fire to the first to move the rocks. There can’t be two of us on this world that long. Balance, remember? I’ve seen this place without it, and we’d die.” He squinted. “Did you find out about the worlds?”

  “Not yet. I was only gone a day,” Ivar said. “We need more time.”

  Quade snorted. “Time. I have too much.” He reached behind a rock and drew out a ripped backpack. “The devices stopped blinking, so I brought them all back here. Hope they did what you wanted.”

  “Thanks,” Ivar said, taking the pack. “We think we can use these to figure out if the worlds are going to collide. Maybe even when it’ll happen.”

  “Good.” Quade reached for the second pack and drew out a granola bar. “What the hell is this?”

  “My mate told me two of us couldn’t make it back in the wormhole, so I brought provisions for whoever stayed. I trust her,” Ivar said. He’d known, deep down, that both Promise and Quade were correct in that he couldn’t take Quade’s place right now. Not this time.

  Quade twisted the bar around. “All right. What is this?” he repeated.

  “Food,” Ivar said. “I packed as much as I could. The blood is good and labeled. Use the human first.” He had to keep Quade alive until they could figure out the bubble worlds. “The plastic weapons should help too.” He drew out an album. “Here’s a history of the world along with photographs of your family.” He handed it over.

  Quade’s dirty hands shook as he gingerly flipped open the front page.

  Ivar ignited a ceramic lantern and handed it over. “Next to Ronan in that picture is his mate.”

  Quade nodded and looked through the pictures, taking one of Haven Daly out. “I haven’t talked to her in a while. Used to, but not for a while. You left her alone.”

  “Yes.”

  Blinding light burst into the cavern, and Ivar jumped, spinning around to face the threat.

  “It’s morning,” Quade said wearily, shoving himself to his feet. “I have to run now. So do you. The next fire will come shortly. Get out first.” He yanked Ivar close for a hard hug. “Stay safe, Viking.”

  “We’re going to save you,” Ivar vowed. Now that he’d left Quade with some provisions, he’d figure out a path where two people could travel home. Or Promise would find it with these new readings. “Are you sure you have to stay?”

  “Yes. There’s no other way.” Quade studied him and then nodded. “Good to know you, brother.” Setting the picture down gently, he turned and leaped out of the cave.

  Well, shit. Ivar looked around. Okay. He had facts to report to Promise as well as the silent devices from the 3D printer. Hopefully they hadn’t been broken. The forest had lost half of its trees in the time he’d been gone. The sky had stayed open longer, and the ocean had appeared closer. But for
now, Quade was safe. And Ivar had news about Haven. Somehow she’d communicated with Quade? If so, she was the answer to this problem.

  Ivar moved to the edge of the cave and looked down. Two yellow-fanged animals with bright blue fur crossed each other, jumping up and falling down the cliff. One spotted him and howled, even its purple eyes looking hungry. Ravenous. He removed his protective clothing for Quade to have, even leaving the face gear. His jeans and thin T-shirt were all he needed. Thinking for a moment, he toed off his boots and socks.

  Then he readjusted his aim, corrected for a new twist if the thing was still changing, and tried to jump into the wormhole.

  He hit a rock-hard wall, his ears ringing as he fell back into the cave. The wormhole was closed. Gone. Destroyed. He chuckled, blood bubbling off his lips. Promise’s math had been correct.

  Well. Good thing they’d mated. This math, he could do now. He ducked his head, worked out the equations in his brain, and jumped in a different direction.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Promise paced along the lake as rain splattered down, soaking her T-shirt. Ivar was gone. The math had correctly predicted that the wormhole would close. She just knew it. She also knew he’d find a way home, because he’d promised he would. She bit her lip, muttering to herself, fully aware that Faith and Emma watched her from a window. Yes, she looked like a crazy person.

  If the wormhole had closed, how the heck would he get home? The spray of water on the lake caught her attention. One drop, many ripples. Mathematical equations ripped through her head. That was it.

  Turning, she ran right into Mercy. She hadn’t heard the Fae approach and grabbed her arms. “I can’t feel him.” Panic grabbed her and tried to shoot through the solution in her brain. “Anywhere. I can’t sense him, Mercy.”

  Mercy let the rain fall on her face. She paled until her freckles stood out. “I’m sorry.”

  “No.” Promise shook her head. “That’s just it. I keep trying, kind of aiming where he went, and that wormhole closed. The math said it would.” She released her friend and wiped rain off her cheeks. “But before. When Ivar went through the hell loop. He didn’t come back the same way.” She looked back at the ripples in the water. “There’s another way.”