Fae Captive (The Mage Shifter War Book 1)

by Elle Middaugh

  We needed to steal these fucking bones and get the hell out of there fast.

  My eyes tracked a lone flashlight beam in the distance. The sounds of keys jingling and an off-tune whistle accompanied the light.

  "Security guard." I pointed him out to Larry.

  "Yeah. He’s not the one to worry about," Larry assured me. "Help me climb the gate."

  Cryptic much, Lar?

  I shook my head and interlocked my fingers to make a step, then I boosted him up. He scaled the diamond-shaped links with more piss and vinegar than I expected from the old man, and when he reached the top, he poured a little powder over the barbed wire and they completely disappeared.

  He straddled the fence and peered down at me. "Hurry! This spell only lasts about forty-five seconds."

  "Fuck!" I cursed, scrambling to get my huge-ass feet to fit into the little diamond squares. Eventually, I just said fuck it, and hefted myself up with my armstrength alone, allowing my legs to kinda dangle uselessly beneath me.

  "Why didn't you tell me that before?" I scolded him as I straddled the spiraling wire while he began lowering himself on the other side.

  "Forgot," Larry shrugged. "Oh shit."

  I didn't look down. I didn't want to see what I could already feel poking the insides of my thighs. Against the most precious part of me. "Damn it, Larry. Gimme some more of that shit. Now."

  "But then we won't have enough to get out."

  "I don't give a fuck. We'll worry about that when it's time to leave," I growled, my bear coming to the surface. My fingernails elongated into claws and thick golden fur sprouted along my forearms.

  I took a deep breath and tried to calm my animal, reining him in so I could shift my hand back to human form and grab the pouch that Larry had handed me. I sprinkled the rest of that anti-barb shit all over, using every last speck.

  A second later, the sharp scrape of metal against my scrotum eased and I breathed a sigh of relief before I cowboyed over the top of the fence and jumped all the way down.

  When Larry finally shimmied his scrawny ass onto the ground, I shoved a finger directly in his face. "Next time you want me to put my balls on the line for you, I expect a warning."

  I heard a gun cock behind me.

  Larry's eyes widened and his hands slid up slowly in surrender. "Um... Easton? I think your balls might be on the line."

  I froze and used my shifter senses to tell me about the threat behind us. I heard two staggered heartbeats, one toe scrape, and one inhale. I estimated we had two attackers. But who were they? What powers did they have?

  I gave a subtle sniff. Not shifters. They smelled human. But I could also smell gunpowder and ashes. I couldn't tell if that was from them, or just the particles in the air.

  A rough male voice spoke. "We told you not to come back here, Larry Faerie."

  I watched Larry's face go through a multitude of expressions. He knew our attackers. Hated them. Had a history with them. And they'd just insulted him in a way that only mages could. Fae were born with power. But mages took pride in earning it.

  Which meant these fucks were probably mages themselves.

  God fucking damn it.

  I couldn't catch a break tonight.

  Had Larry known these guys would be here? Was that why he wasn't overly concerned about the guard? He was kind of a pacifist, which was probably why he'd deflected my comment, but fucking hell, he hadn't even told me to watch my back.

  I was a little pissed at him. More than a little pissed. All the damned emotion I'd been holding back and bottling up over Aubry suddenly uncorked. Coupled with my rage over Larry, I’d finally hit my limit.

  Fuck it. I was ready to tear something completely apart. It made me rash, careless, cynical. The shifters needed Larry, but they didn’t need me.

  "Go," I ordered him, my voice coming out as a growl.

  I whipped around, keeping myself between Larry’s retreating form and the others, using my body like a shield as I shifted my right arm. A grizzly’s reach was nearly five feet, so when I swiped my claws over the mage holding the gun, I knocked the weapon right out of his hand.

  But not before he got a shot off.

  My foot exploded with pain.

  Son of a bitch!

  I roared, backhanding that motherfucker, and then swinging forward again toward the other mage. This man had dreadlocks—he was younger, maybe college age—and he was chanting something, trying to do a spell. But I knew from experience—mages might be more powerful than me, but their magic took time. Mine didn't.

  My claws raked into his side, and he went down screaming.

  His buddy, an older gentleman wearing a Mag-Sorgin University sweatshirt didn't give me a chance to pick him up and shake him like a chew toy. He kept his gun carefully trained on me as he stooped to check on his friend. He held the weapon in his left hand because I was pretty sure I’d broken his right.

  "You're gonna want to get him to the hospital," I said as I watched the red stain on dreadlock boy's blue shirt grow darker and spread farther. His screams slowly faded into gasps as his whole body shivered.

  I pressed my lips together. Shit. That was stupid. I shouldn't have said something so obvious.

  But the mage with the gun, the only mage still standing, just shook his head. "No need. Stay the fuck back."

  He pulled a metallic white sleep grenade from his pocket and waved it at us threateningly as he holstered his gun and bent down to heft his friend over his shoulder. The dude I’d mangled grunted in pain, but was too weak to do anything else.

  Larry, who had apparently emerged from a hiding spot instead of running away like I’d told him, grabbed my arm and guided me backward a few steps.

  The remaining mage gave us a wry look, his eyes traveling up and down Larry’s hunched over form, judging and dismissing him. "If I ever see you again, Larry... I'll be using your bones."

  He whistled and two fae swooped down out of the sky and plucked the mages up, flying them off before I could blink. Watching their gossamer wings flutter on the dusky breeze reminded me of Aubry and all that I’d lost before I ever even had it.

  My heart sank once more.

  I exhaled hard. "Well... that could be worse." Or better, depending on how morbid I was feeling. "I hope that dude's okay."

  Larry stared up at me. "He won't be. Murder bones are too valuable to waste."

  I had to physically stop myself from breaking anything within reach, which would have been poor Larry.

  That mage was gonna let his friend die? So he could cut out his bones and use them in a spell? That was vile. That was abhorrent. That was the very fucking reason we couldn't lose this war to the mages. They cared about nothing but power. They always had.

  I shook my head and a thought came to me. We were about to break into the crematorium and steal the very same thing: murder bones. Suddenly, our endeavor took on a whole new light.

  "Is there any other way for you to stop that fire?" I asked.

  Larry gave me a sad smile. "If there was, I promise you I wouldn't be here."

  I stared at Larry, finally realizing how much this took from him, from his ethics, how he bent his moral compass to try and do what was right for shifters. For us. For the group. Even if it left an awful taste in his mouth.

  Fuck.

  Aubry's beautiful face drifted through my mind once more. Her pale skin, her plump lips, her silken wings, and her selfless heart. And I realized… I, too, had to do what was right for the group.

  That thought sent a mudslide of grief through my veins. Like the top of my heart had been sheared off and sent tumbling through my body down to my feet, liquefying and destroying everything in its path. It was heartbreak on a level I'd never felt before.

  All because of a fae.

  Because of a woman I hadn't even kissed.

  A woman I never should have fallen for.

  I followed Larry like a zombie after he healed my foot, after he did a Compulsion Spell to send the human guard to
stare at a tree, after we broke into the sanctuary and he took a couple femurs. While he worked, I stood off to the side, staring at nothing. I leaned against a table, my hands skimming over something rough. I looked down and saw a small grave marker, the size of my hand. It only had a year inscribed on it.

  Larry came back over just then, carrying a bag over his shoulder. "Time to go."

  "What’s this?" I asked, softly.

  He looked down and sighed, the ghost of a forlorn smile touching his lips. "It’s the marker for the pauper graves. If bodies go unclaimed for three years here, they are cremated and put into a mass grave. The year of cremation marks the spot."

  I stared down at the little stone. I’d thought mass graves were a thing of the past. Apparently, I was wrong. I wondered how many shifters were included in these mass graves. Most shifters lived paw to mouth, day by day, barely scraping by under strict mage scrutiny.

  Larry put a hand on my shoulder. "Time to go." He held up a pair of giant hedge shears. "Let’s hope these work on chain links."

  I took the tool from him and followed him outside. Cutting a quick flap in the metal, we left without incident and made the long walk back in silence. Too many emotions filled me to even begin processing them. I just let them swim around unguarded as I sank deeper into despair.

  Back at his apartment, Larry gave me careful instructions, and I mixed potions for his spells with robotic arms, my mind shut down. I followed him wordlessly as he walked toward the fire, chanting and waving his arms and splattering an orange potion that looked like orange juice on buildings like he was anointing them.

  The entire time, I repeated the same phrases over and over. She's Bodie's. She doesn't belong to you. He only gets one mate. Ever. He’s an important part of your three-man pack. You can’t mess with that. You can’t fuck it up.

  But pack or not, I knew one thing with startling clarity: I was hers.

  My beast roared each time these painful thoughts flooded my mind. It made no sense. Bears could get a new mate if their old mate passed, but we only ever had one at a time. There was no way Aubry was mine, too. No way. It was one hundred percent impossible.

  She might not have been my mate, but the things I felt for her...

  It was the worst fate imaginable. Because even though I longed for her, I would never lift a finger, never take a step, never make a move. I could never hurt my friend like that. Even if it meant living the rest of my life in unrequited longing.

  16

  Aubry

  Oh fucking hell, I thought, as my heart thumped wildly at the sight of Bodie smiling above me.

  I was definitely falling for him.

  Them? I couldn’t forget, Easton’s face had popped up in that little fantasy before I came the last time. Was it possible I had feelings for him, too?

  Suddenly, as if the very thought of him had somehow conjured him up in bodily form, I saw Easton standing in Bodie’s doorway. Blue eyes wide, mouth ajar, he looked stunned out of his mind. But the way his shoulders slumped and his golden brows furrowed, I knew he was also hurting. Because of me. Because I was lying there naked with Bodie.

  I quickly covered myself with my wings, hoping it’d make this less awkward for all of us, and somehow make his hurt go away, or at least fade some.

  But it didn’t. It only seemed to hurt him worse. His expression fell even further.

  Bodie noticed the strange look in my eyes as I focused on Easton over his shoulder. He jerked around and sat up quickly. "What the fuck, man? You don't even knock?"

  Easton dropped his keys and scrambled for the door, smashing into the doorframe before sprinting away down the stairs.

  "Easton, wait!" I shouted, hopping to my feet and running over to the doorway. But he was already gone. He had to have hopped entire flights of stairs at a time to get away that fast. My back slumped against the frame and my head fell back into the wood.

  Fuck. How the hell am I going to fix this?

  Bodie remained eerily silent as I sat there and wallowed, trying to process what had happened and figure out a way to make it right, so I turned my head and shot him a forlorn glance. He was sitting on the rug, arms draped across his knees, staring at me like he couldn’t quite figure me out.

  Well, good luck, buddy. I can’t even figure me out nowadays. You assholes swapped my brain with a bag of beans.

  "Why’d you run after him?" Bodie asked me quietly. "Why’d you call his name?"

  I swallowed hard and turned my head so I could stare up at the ceiling above me. "I don’t know."

  And truthfully, I didn’t. My feelings for both Easton and Bodie were a fucking ball of jumbled up knots that I did not have the time or energy to untangle.

  "Do you…" Bodie trailed off, his light green eyes dropping to the floor.

  But he didn’t have to finish that sentence. I knew he wanted to know if I liked Easton, if I had feelings for the bear shifter. How the hell was I supposed to answer a question like that when I didn’t even know what I was feeling myself?

  "Can we just not talk about this?" I asked, exhaustion masking the little bit of irritation in my tone.

  Bodie stood and disappeared down the hallway, returning in a pair of low-hanging sweats and carrying a handful of clothes. He tossed me a clean up towel, a pair of black yoga pants, and a heather gray camisole. Women's clothing. Where the hell had he gotten those? Were they remnants of a night he spent with another woman, here in this very apartment? A night like he'd just spent with me?

  My lips pursed as I wiped away the remnants of the best orgasm of my life. When I was finished, I grabbed the stretchy pants and shimmied into them. Bodie watched me in amusement as I slid the tank over my head and adjusted my breasts before smoothing it down my waist. I realized he’d slit the back so my wings could fit. So, at least he’d modified this hussy’s shirt for me.

  "You look jealous, Buttercup," he said in a mildly taunting tone. "Maybe now you know how I feel?"

  I stared at him as he moseyed out of the living room and into his tiny kitchen. Marching after him, I flopped into a dining room chair and crossed my arms, glaring as he moved around collecting items for a cup of coffee.

  "There's a big difference, actually," I argued as he popped a k-cup into his coffee maker.

  "Oh? And what's that?"

  His nonchalance was driving me insane. "You're jealous over nothing, a man who's your friend, a man I've never even kissed. I'm jealous over a woman who clearly left clothes behind in your apartment, a woman you slept with."

  Bodie started the brewer and turned around, bending over to grab the edges of the table on either side of me. "Ah, but that's where you're wrong, Princess. I told you I was getting this place ready for you. That outfit you're wearing? I bought it specifically for you. No other woman has worn it. In fact, no other woman has ever even seen the inside of this apartment."

  I raised a disbelieving brow.

  He chuckled. "I'm not saying I haven't fucked other women. I'm just saying I never cared enough about them to bring them here." His face darkened. "I never trusted them enough. Any one of them could have betrayed me in a hot second to the stick swingers."

  His look was hot. So hot my pussy flared back to life. But my mind was still stuck on the fact that he’d said he’d fucked other women. It was illogical. But it made me furious. It made me want to bite and mark and spank his tight ass.

  He leaned in even closer, his nose caressing the side of my neck, causing my eyes to flutter shut. "You're hot when you're jealous, you know that? I like that my mate is territorial."

  My eyes popped open. Is that what I was being? Territorial? Like some freaking animal? I needed to get my shit together. I reached out and touched his chest, almost allowing myself to get sidetracked by the heat of his hard pecs, before pushing him away from me.

  "I'm not your mate," I denied softly. "And I wasn't being territorial."

  He chuckled once more. "Yes, you are. I know you feel what I feel. And after sex like that?" He
shook his head and bit his bottom lip before turning around and grabbing the finished cup of coffee and setting it before me. "Fuck, that was incredible. I've never come so hard in my life. It's like I poured a piece of my soul into you when I got off."

  I took the cup, which I now realized he'd made for me, and stared down into the steamy black liquid, trying to ignore his words and the images they brought back to life in my mind.

  "And based off the sexy fucking looks that crossed your face—utter shock and disbelief coupled with ecstasy—I'd say you've never had an orgasm like that either."

  To my relief, he turned around and busied himself making a second cup of coffee. Thank god. I did not want to admit to the arrogant claims he'd just made… even though they were true. I mean, getting off on someone stroking my wings alone? That had never happened before.

  It made my pussy clench just thinking about it and, suddenly, I was daydreaming about him bending me over the kitchen table while he spanked me with a spatula.

  "You don't have to answer," he continued, pressing the start button on the brewer. Then he turned back towards me and leaned on the counter, crossing his deliciously ripped arms. "But what we felt? That inexplicable carnal bliss while I pounded you over and over again? That was because of our mate bond. So, you can deny it until you're blue in the face, but I already know the truth."

  I rolled my eyes, wondering how either of us had actually fit in the room alongside his massive fucking ego. "Just because you're good at sex, doesn't mean you're some fated gift to my cunt and my soul. Don’t be an asstrich."

  "What?"

  "A jerk who is so pompous and ignorant at the same time that his own head is up his ass like a damned ostrich." I smirked like I was feeling superior. But inside, I wasn’t sure I believed my own words. Because my eyes couldn’t stop tracking him. My heart couldn’t stop pounding. I swallowed hard.

  Bodie heard it. The fucker could probably hear my traitor heartbeat too. His lips tugged at the corners and he spun around, carefully taking a sip of his finished cup of joe. My gaze raked up and down his muscular back, following the rigid muscles along his spine out to his broad, stacked shoulders.