Fated Hearts

by Garrett Leigh

  Bomber laughed, flat and defeated. “There is no leg. It got blown to bits. Just leave me. Help the others.”

  Devan gripped his hands. “There must be something left of it. I can’t make you whole again, but I can save you, if that’s what you want?”

  “Of course it’s what he wants.” Danielo dropped beside Devan. “Fix him.”

  Devan kept his gaze on Bomber. “It’s up to you.”

  “You can’t bring my leg back?”

  “No. The damage is too great. If you survive, you’ll be without it, both as a human and as a wolf.”

  Comprehension dawned in Danielo then. He sucked in a shaky breath, all the while glancing over his shoulder as the fighting continued. “Shit. I’ve got to shift, or it won’t fucking matter.” He turned back to Bomber and dragged a rough kiss over his split lips. “Do what you need to do. We’ll be here, always.”

  He vanished. Devan didn’t watch him go, his commitment to Bomber absolute. Battle sounds faded. He squeezed Bomber’s hands tighter. Whatever you need.

  Bomber swallowed thickly. “I’m no use to the pack if I can’t run.”

  “That’s not true. You have years of military experience. You can train, teach, assist Varian in command.”

  “But what if I can’t shift?”

  “That won’t happen.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I’ve seen it. Shifters can live happily without limbs just as humans can. And there’s more to life, and to war, than being a soldier on the ground.”

  “You want to save me.”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Then why—” Bomber swallowed again. “Why did you give me the option?”

  “Because you need to choose so you don’t regret being alive later.”

  “That’s some double bluff, doc.”

  Devan hummed and began the painstaking process of dripping sap onto Bomber’s wounds. “It takes more than flesh to make us whole, so I guess we’ll see, eh?”

  Bomber didn’t answer. Pain overwhelmed him, and he passed out. Devan was glad of it, though the concentration it was going to take to heal him was a huge risk. Without Bomber’s eyes watching Devan’s back, anyone could come up on them.

  Focus. Devan sealed Bomber’s wounds and searched the ground for any scraps of flesh and bone he could use to create a permanent fix. It was a gruesome task but necessary.

  He gathered what he needed and returned to where Bomber was slumped, face grey, lips turning blue. We’re out of time. Devan laid hands on the very worst injuries and closed his eyes. Magic filled his veins. Warmth spread through him, different to the heat he felt every moment Zio was near, but no less potent. No less the essence of his entire existence.

  The world as he knew it faded. Devan couldn’t say how long he would sit with Bomber like this. Time ceased to matter. Life, death . . . only Bomber’s mattered. Energy flowed from his fingertips, magic warring with anatomy. The natural and the supernatural. Bomber’s wolf accepted Devan’s helping hand, but his human form rejected it over and over, until heartbeat by heartbeat, Devan won.

  He opened his eyes. Though Bomber was still unconscious, colour had returned to his face and his leg. Though it would never be whole, it was healed, the stump smooth and marred only by scars that would fade with time. Devan slumped forwards, exhausted, but before he could give in to the fatigue washing over him, a panicked bark startled him back to life.

  Devan spun around. Mere feet away, wolves fought for their lives in the dirt. Devan shielded Bomber with his body as the northern wolf closest to them held his ground. More wolves entered the sunken clearing created by the earlier explosion. The brindle male Devan knew to be Michael reached them. He sniffed Bomber and nudged Devan’s shoulder, the message in his flinty gaze clear: I’ve got him.

  The northern wolves in the clearing were winning. Devan locked gazes with Michael, and the wolf jerked his head east. An hour ago, Devan would’ve had to guess to interpret his meaning, but in that short space of time, their blossoming pack connection had forged a deeper bond with Devan’s powers. Now he understood without question. Go. Others need you.

  Devan shot back the way he’d come with Bomber’s team, leaving a part of himself on the ground with the young wolf who would never be the same. But his grief and worry for the wolves behind him had nothing on the growing fear of what he’d find when he reached the end of the scent trail he’d picked up with no conscious thought. Zio’s scent had consumed him for weeks, but with every step he took, a new desperation took hold within him.

  He needs me. Even if Zio didn’t know it yet—because, gods, Devan could sense his pugnacious temper a mile out from the furious fight he could hear in the distance.

  The route Zio’s team had taken was rockier than the path west and more exposed. With no trees to swing through, Devan leapt boulders and scaled chalky cliffs. As he got closer to the fighting, Zio’s emotions changed. A rush of uncertainty and fear tainted his vengeful anger.

  Devan scrambled up another cliff face. On the ground, dead wolves were everywhere, but he didn’t stop to check who they were or who they belonged to, instinct driving him on through a small copse of trees and into a moonlit glade that might’ve been beautiful if not for the violence tearing it apart.

  So much blood.

  The scent of savagery had been Devan’s constant companion for days. Nausea churned with exhaustion even supernatural strength couldn’t mask. His legs wavered, and he started to fall, but before his knees touched the ground, a low whine broke through the fog, pushing him down. Devan rallied and staggered to his feet, hand flying to his chest as the ache there burnt his soul. He’s hurt.

  Heart in his mouth, Devan ran harder than he’d ever run before, feet barely touching the ground, but with every step came certainty that he wasn’t going to get there in time. An overgrown path led to a stile, and then a long-abandoned sand processing plant. In the potholed yard, three wolves advanced on Zio. Outnumbered, Zio whined again, foreleg hanging limp and useless, blood dripping from his mouth.

  More pain lanced Devan’s chest. Zio was badly injured and too weak to move the earth beneath him. If the enemy wolves reached him before Devan, he wouldn’t survive.

  No. The vicious snarl in Devan’s mind came from a part of him he didn’t recognise. It rumbled through him, bringing with it bright light that blinded him to all else but getting to Zio. A chain reaction burst to life, instincts he’d fought for so long breaking free with a growl that echoed in the vast yard.

  Devan hurdled a fallen tree and leapt into the fray, shifting with a singular thought in his mind. A vow. A declaration that he could never take back.

  Mine.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Zio woke up backed against a wall, crumpled in his human form. He tasted blood on his tongue, but his shattered jaw was fixed. His ribs and legs too. He tried to sit up, but a paw large enough to span his chest pushed him down.

  Breath caught in his throat. He looked up and met a bright blue gaze that was so familiar he wanted to cry, but at the same time, that of a stranger. Devan.

  But was it? Zio had never seen his shifted form before, and the huge white tiger pinning him down was fucking terrifying.

  Zio’s hands reached out of their own accord to touch the big cat. Soft white fur awaited them, and beneath, corded muscles that made even Varian seem like a household pet.

  The tiger growled. Zio snatched his hands back, but the beast wasn’t looking at him, gaze trained instead over his shoulder.

  Zio peered around him and gasped at the sight of a dozen bodies, all of them enemy wolves. He reached again for the tiger and buried his face in the fur that of course smelt of Devan. He saved me.

  A violent shudder passed through Zio as he recalled his last moments of consciousness. How three wolves had become four, and then five . . . more. He’d pictured his own death. Resigned himself to it. Then something had changed. A burst of energy had rippled around the derelict yard, and the wol
ves were gone. He didn’t remember the tiger, only the peace that had washed over him when its scent had reached him. Somehow, he’d felt . . . safe.

  Zio sucked in greedy breaths of Devan’s enhanced scent, gorging himself until he was drunk enough on it to think clearly. He looked around Devan again to see more wolves had joined them, a handful of soldiers, Danielo taking point.

  He relaxed, but Devan was still growling, poised to attack. “Hey.” Zio rubbed Devan’s shoulder. “It’s Danielo. You know him. He’s pack.”

  Danielo crept closer. Devan snarled and sprang forward, sending wolves scattering like mice.

  They backed off, leaving the yard altogether and gathering at the gate. The sour scent of fear reached Zio. Fuck. They’re scared of him.

  And he couldn’t blame them. Dividing Zio from his pack, Devan paced, his rage so palpable that flames seemed to flare from his mouth with every warning growl. His message was clear: stay away.

  Zio swallowed thickly, his mind a jumbled mess. His connection to Devan seemed stronger than ever—so solid he was almost sure he could see it shimmering in the dark—but he didn’t know the shifter guarding him. Or how to reach him.

  Healed leg throbbing, Zio stood and crept forward. His chest was so tight he could barely breathe. More than anything, he yearned to go to Devan, put his hands on him, and urge him to shift back to the form Zio recognised. Anything to help him make sense of the chaos he’d woken up to, but right now, it was about more than the two of them. It was about pack, and as long as Devan didn’t recognise Danielo as a brother, he was a danger to everyone.

  Zio moved level with Devan, arms outstretched. “Come here.”

  Devan stopped prowling and stared at him.

  New energy flowed between them. Zio stepped closer and stretched up to stroke Devan’s chest. “Stand down. It’s over.”

  Devan didn’t move, a simmering growl his only response.

  Zio kept their gazes locked. “Danielo, shift back.”

  A low whine signalled Danielo’s protest. Zio dug deep for the beta authority he rarely used with his closest brothers. “Now. He needs to see you’re no threat.”

  A beat of silence. A shimmer in the air. Then Danielo, tired and bemused, was human. “A threat to who?”

  “Anyone.”

  “Dude, I don’t think he gives a fuck about the rest of the world right now.”

  “What?”

  “How do you feel, Zio?”

  Zio tore his attention from Devan and spared Danielo a glance. “The fuck are you talking about?”

  Danielo raised his eyebrows. “I’m talking about the fact that a shifter with more control than all of us put together is about to burn the world down to protect you. Not anyone else, Zio. You. Don’t tell me you can’t feel it.”

  “Feel wha—” But the words died on Zio’s lips before he could finish the sentence, eclipsed by the absolute certainty that whatever had happened tonight had changed him forever. “Fuck.” His hand flew to his chest. “I do feel it. What is it? What’s happening to me?”

  “You’ve triggered a potential mating bond,” Danielo said flatly. “With a Shadow Clan shifter who’s ready to kill us all if we come any closer. Oh, and the humans are on their way, so you might want to think about fixing this shit so they don’t shoot us where we stand.”

  Sarcasm was Danielo’s baseline, but urgency laced his tone, and as if on cue, sirens sounded in the distance. It wouldn’t be long before the helicopters went up—aircraft modified by the authorities with orders to shoot any shifters who could be considered a threat to the general population.

  From a human perspective, a cluster of nervous wolves and a raging tiger would be a hard risk to ignore.

  Brain spinning, Zio reached again for his beta authority, focussing it this time on Devan. “Stand down. No one is going to hurt me except the humans heading our way, and I need to get my pack to safety. If you can’t shift back, you’ll have to run until you’re far enough away that they won’t find you.”

  He gave Devan a gentle push.

  Devan didn’t move.

  Zio tried again. “Please, Devan. For me, okay? If you stay and you’re like this, the humans will shoot us all. I can’t let that happen . . . to you or my pack. I need you to go.”

  For the longest moment, Zio feared Devan wouldn’t budge, that he wouldn’t do the only thing left to protect himself, Zio, and the pack that had brought them together, but as the approaching sirens grew louder, he finally seemed to hear them. He bent his neck and nudged Zio towards the rest of the pack. Then . . . he was gone, and the crushing pain of his departure drove Zio to his knees.

  Zio sat on the cold ground by the fire no one had bothered to keep going. The humans had been and gone, unconvinced by Zio’s explanation of a training exercise gone wrong but unable to prove otherwise. Danielo had taken a team back out to bury the dead, while Michael took care of Bomber.

  Shannon had been the only one left to sit with Zio, and he did, shoulders touching, his presence a comfort, but nowhere near enough to soothe the pain ripping through Zio’s soul.

  “What if he doesn’t come back?” The very thought brought fresh agony to Zio’s heart. He rubbed his chest and repeated the question out loud with a scratchy whisper that hurt his ears.

  Shannon wrapped an arm around him. “He’ll come back—he’s bound to the pack, and now he’s bound to you too, even if you don’t fulfil the bond.”

  “I don’t know what any of that means.”

  “Neither do I, at least not when it comes to shifters from different clans. We have to wait for Varian; he’ll know what to do.”

  Zio wasn’t so sure. In all the years he’d served his alpha, Varian had rarely talked about bonds, even his own with Tomas, and Zio had never sought out friendships in the wider pack, preferring to stick close to his squad brothers and sisters. It was never up to other people to tell you. Varian taught you many times that knowledge was the greatest power, but you never bothered to learn.

  It was true. The only thing Zio knew about mated pairs was that they never served in the same units, in his own pack and beyond. “I always thought if I triggered a bond, it would be with Emma, and that it would be easy. She’d leave the combat units, and she’d be safe.”

  “I thought you never slept with Emma.”

  “I didn’t. But I was never sure that wouldn’t change.”

  Shannon sighed. “Maybe it would be easier to bond with your best friend, but the supernatural world doesn’t work like that. Bonds are . . . unique things. Magic. Unpredictable. You can’t control them, no matter how bad you want to.”

  “Do you wish this had happened with you and your human friend?”

  “No. I would never wish this life on someone I love.”

  Love. Zio craved to know more, but an approaching vehicle interrupted them. He scrambled to his feet. The guards had shouted no warning, so it had to be Varian.

  Zio’s stomach turned over, nervous for reasons he didn’t understand.

  Shannon nudged him. “Chill. It’ll be fine. It’s not like you’ve done anything wrong. You’re as blindsided by this as the rest of us.”

  Zio shook his head. “I’m not. I should’ve known.”

  “How? It’s not like you’ve been— Oh fuck, seriously?” Realisation dawned on Shannon’s face, but there was no time to fend off his inevitable questions.

  Varian had arrived.

  Varian stood by the refreshed fire, flames dancing in his eyes. He’d listened to Zio’s explanation from start to finish, sought out others to hear theirs, and checked on Bomber before he’d returned to Zio’s side. “I knew there was . . . something,” he said eventually. “I didn’t believe you would keep something from me, more that you didn’t know what you were hiding. Now it makes sense.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “You don’t have to convince me, Zio. I believe Devan might’ve, though, or at least suspected such a thing was possible. He has seen far more of the world tha
n you, and maybe more than I when it comes to such things.”

  “He never said.”

  “Perhaps he thought he could control it.”

  “Control it?”

  Varian sighed. “Yes. It’s a big ask, but Devan is an extraordinary shifter. Perhaps he believed such a thing was possible if the bond didn’t trigger when you were intimate.”

  “I couldn’t stop,” Zio whispered. “Every time we were together, I knew it was wrong, but . . . I-I just couldn’t stop.”

  “What made you think it was wrong? The unfamiliar doesn’t have to be so forever.”

  Zio jerked his head up. “Of course it’s wrong. He’s not a wolf.”

  “So? Devan’s own creator is bonded to a shifter from a vampire coven. Nothing in this extraordinary world of ours is wrong unless it is born of hate and greed.”

  “But—”

  “No.” Varian shook his head. “The potential bond between you and Devan is a dangerous thing, and there will be consequences if you choose to fulfil it, especially now he has been seen by the southern packs, fought for us, killed for us, but that doesn’t make it wrong. Just . . . difficult.”

  Zio could hardly catch the words as Varian spoke them. So many things he’d never considered. Devan had killed every enemy wolf that had come within spitting distance of Zio, but their ambushing force had been vast. Many had escaped to run home with tall tales of a raging tiger that turned out to be true. “What do we do now?”

  Varian laid a warm hand on Zio’s shoulder. “To be honest, I don’t know. I’ve asked to speak with Dash. Perhaps he will know more than I do about such things, but the fact remains that the southern packs will likely see Devan’s intervention tonight as a sign Shadow Clan has joined our war. For now, that must be our greatest concern.”

  “What about Devan? Will he be punished?”