by River Ramsey
“So you’re on my side now?” I ask, afraid to assume. I know how James feels about this pregnancy and I’m sure the increased risk hasn’t changed his mind.
“Christopher and Mace have both convinced me that any medical intervention would put you at an even greater risk,” he says solemnly. I can tell it’s not a decision he’s come to easily or lightly, but at least that’s one less thing for me to worry about.
“Where is Mace?” I ask. “I’d like to see him.”
They both frown. “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea,” says Christopher.
“I’m even less sure,” says James.
“Please. After what happened, my head is still a mess and I just need… I just need answers only he can give me.”
They hesitate a moment before James finally says, “Alright. But only with supervision.”
Better than nothing. I nod in agreement and wait as he leaves to find the wolf I’ve been trying all this time to save... even if he ended up being the one to save me.
Fifteen
The moment Mace comes in, I feel like a person in two parts. There’s that part of me that’s always hated him that flares up at the sight of the man who’s put me through so much—and then there’s the other part that’s been there just as long, if I’m being honest with myself. The part that actually enjoyed his company when we were staying together back in the Marok pack, looking after Aspen. The part that soared with relief when I saw his eyes that night by the altar and realized he was going to change his mind. That he wasn’t too far gone to save.
“I’ll uh. Give you guys a second,” Christopher says awkwardly. “Only one chaperone needed.”
I wave to him, which proves to be an equally awkward gesture, and James snorts. At least he’s managed to find some amusement in this.
“Hey,” I say to Mace, realizing I don’t have any better introduction.
“Hello,” he answers, formal as ever. Of course. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” I murmur. “That was a pretty close call.”
“Yes. Most people wouldn’t have been able to come out of their subconscious before the darkness closed in,” he muses.
“I was talking about you.”
He sighs. “I’d rather talk about you right now.”
“Well, tough shit,” I say, sitting up.
Mace raises an eyebrow. “I see you’re feeling better.”
“We’re linked. Did you know about this?” I demand.
“I assure you, I didn’t.”
He’s lying. I don’t know how I can tell, I just can. It’s something in his voice, or maybe in his eyes. Either way, I feel it deep inside of me. “Wait,” I mutter. “You did. That’s why you attacked Aedan, isn’t it? You felt the same thing I did back then, when he was going to kill me…”
His face goes blank, always a sure sign he’s been caught in deception. James’ expression is as surprised as I feel.
“You knew back then?” he asks, his voice a growl.
“I didn’t know it went both ways,” Mace snaps. “I barely understand it myself.”
“But you do understand,” James says, striding forward to give him a shove. “You know what this is.”
“James!”
“Answer the question,” he snarls, keeping his eyes locked on Mace.
The other man stands tall, not one to be intimidated, but he finally answers. “I have an idea.”
“Mace,” I whisper. “Please. Whatever’s going on, just be honest with me.”
“We’re soulmates,” he answers flatly. “At least, that’s the closest term that explains the phenomenon.”
“Soulmates?” James echoes, clearly offended.
“Don’t worry,” Mace sneers. “I’m not the only one. There are two sides to Danica’s nature, just as there are to yours.”
James frowns. “What are you talking about?”
“She’s part mage and part wolf. You do the math.”
“So who the hell is the other one?”
Mace looks pointedly at James and says, “What makes you think there’s only one?”
He falls silent, and I can tell his thoughts are drifting in the same direction as mine. Sure, I’ve always felt connected to the four of them, but… soulmates? Life just threw us together. That can’t have anything to do with the circumstances of my birth.
Somehow, the idea that it does makes me afraid. Like it cheapens what we’ve built so far, and I’m not ready to accept it, even if it is the truth.
“If that were true…”
“You felt it, too, didn’t you?” Mace challenges. “When Aedan was about to kill her. Even though you weren’t there, somehow, you knew.”
James’ silence speaks volumes. I’m still reeling from the realization that Mace is here. Everything else is just above and beyond my ability to process right now.
“I don’t understand,” I mutter. “We’re all connected?”
“It would seem that way,” says Mace. “Try as I might, it’s not something that’s so easy to escape.”
“If you knew, then you should’ve known how your death would affect her,” James growls. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I didn’t realize it went both ways. It’s not like I’m the only one,” he says pointedly. “I assumed you three would be more than capable of taking care of her. Apparently, I thought wrong.”
The realization that he cares at all comes as a shock, but I’m still reeling too much to say anything.
“Well, now you know different,” James says, standing nose-to-nose with Mace. “As long as your life is tied to hers, you are going to guard it. And don’t make the mistake of thinking that just because I can’t kill you, I can’t make you suffer.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Mace sneers. He turns in such a way that his long hair parts and I can see the faint glimmer of silver around his neck. He’s been collared.
He catches me looking and touches the metal. “Don’t worry. Your boys made certain this one’s not as easy to get off.”
I let out a deep breath. This is going to be interesting. “So you’re stuck here now?”
“Yes,” James answers. “Until we figure out a way to untangle your fates, and if he wants it to be a pleasant experience, he’s going to play by the rules.”
“I always do,” Mace says flatly, even though he’s looking at me. “It would appear that they’ve changed.”
Sixteen
It’s been three days since I woke up in the hospital and the doctors finally agreed to let me return to the residential wing of the castle. Rowan has been doting, as usual, and Christopher is here, which comes as a relief. James has been distant, but I can’t tell if it’s because of Mace’s words or something else entirely.
I know this whole thing has put a wedge between us and I just want it to end. Then there’s Mace, whom they’re keeping God only knows where in the castle. I asked Rowan outright if he was in the dungeon and his answer was simply, “He’ll be coming around soon.”
At least my body is on the mend. Every time I feel the twins fluttering, I breathe a sigh of deep relief. For the moment, they’ve achieved peace. I can only hope that this isn’t an omen of what their relationship is going to be like as they grow older.
I’m just grateful that they’re going to have that chance now.
I convince Rowan that I’ll be more than fine on a stroll around the garden while he tends to an issue with the new recruits in the gym. It’s a beautiful day, and I don’t really need the shawl I brought with me. The flowers are in bloom and the sky is just cloudy enough to block out the midday sun. I wander a bit deeper into the garden, stroking the delicate blooms that hang down over the path.
When I sense that I’m being watched, I turn around to find Mace standing there in the path. “Do you always have to pop up out of nowhere?”
He gives me a smile that shouldn’t make my heart flutter the way it does, but I’ve never been able to control my reactions when it comes to h
im, good or bad. He takes a step closer, his hands casually slipped into his pockets as if he’s just strolling around, thinking of buying the place. The collar does nothing to make him seem subdued.
“I thought I might find you out here. And unprotected, no less.”
“Just because I don’t have a twenty-four-seven chaperone doesn’t mean I’m unprotected,” I inform him. “I can take care of myself.”
“So you can,” he muses. “Christopher seems to be doing well. I see he’s found a way to get a handle on his powers.”
The reminder that he knew about Christopher’s secret practices before I did isn’t welcome, but I guess it’s one of the lesser things I should be pissed about. I fold my arms, sitting down on the edge of a bench along the path. “He should be. He’s been away with that coven long enough.”
Mace chuckles, sitting down beside me. “I take it you don’t approve?”
“Obviously not.”
“And yet, you practice magic yourself.”
“That’s different,” I mutter. “It’s by accident. It’s in my blood.”
“Maybe it’s in his heart.”
His words take me by surprise, and the sincerity in his tone makes me second guess my first instinct that he’s just toying with me. “I guess…”
“That’s the thing about this kingdom, with all its rules and double standards,” he says, looking up at the passing clouds. “There are far worse things that go on here, don’t you think?”
I eye him warily. “You didn’t seem too bothered by your own execution.”
He shrugs. “If one’s time is up, there’s not much point in delaying.”
“And yet, you delayed for me when mine was up. Why?”
He doesn’t answer, but the look in his eyes tells me enough. “Consider us even,” he says finally.
I snort. “We’d be even if I lied to you for half your life and tried to sacrifice you to my creepy undead master but changed my mind at the last minute.”
He chuckles, to my surprise. “Fair enough.”
“So… truce?”
“Truce?”
“I mean, we’re kind of stuck together. You because of the collar, me because of… you know. I guess it wouldn’t be the worst thing if we tried to start over.”
“I suppose not. I’m not sure the others would agree.”
“They don’t make my decisions, contrary to what I let them believe.”
There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips. “No. I imagine it would take far more than four alphas to do that.”
My face grows warm for some reason and I look away. “I want to ask you something, because I think you’re the only one detached enough from all this to be honest with me.”
“Go ahead,” he says calmly.
“You know more about vampires than anyone, and apparently, enough about mages. What are the odds of me carrying this pregnancy to term?”
He considers the question for a moment and I’m not sure whether I should be relieved or not that he seems to be giving it so much thought. “I’d say less than fifty percent.”
I swallow. “That’s more than I thought, I guess.”
“Would you prefer I lied?”
“No,” I say. As ugly as the truth is, it’s refreshing to finally hear it.
Seventeen
It’s a quiet evening and there are no royal scandals to deal with, so I manage to get away for a trip to the library in hopes that I’ll stumble upon something in those old tomes that could help with the pregnancy. When I see Christopher sitting at the table, poring thoughtfully over a book spread out in front of him, I realize I’m not the only one.
“Hey,” he says, looking up. I haven’t seen him wear his glasses in forever. I forgot how charming they make him look.
“Hey,” I respond, walking over to him. I reach out to push the rims further up his nose, smiling. “Don’t you think it’s about time you got a new pair?”
“It is a new pair. Just the same style.”
“Of course,” I laugh, leaning against the table. “You always liked consistency.”
“Why fix what isn’t broken?” He reaches out and pulls me onto his lap. The gesture surprises me, but I don’t mind the close proximity. He’s been so distant lately, and it took me this long to realize just how much I miss the closeness we used to share so easily.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, pressing his hand against my stomach.
“Better,” I admit. “I thought I’d do some research while it lasts, but I see you’ve beat me to it.”
“I’ve been doing little else since I found out you were pregnant,” he admits.
“You knew, didn’t you?” I tilt my head. “Even before you found out it was twins, you knew one was yours.”
“It took me a while to recognize, but I felt my energy,” he admits. “Now, it’s impossible to miss.”
“I don’t know what you said to make James change his mind, but... thank you.”
“I just told him the truth,” he says, shrugging. “That the emotional distress was putting you in way more danger than the pregnancy itself. Especially with all the energy conflicts going on.”
“You really think there’s a chance?” I ask, looking down at the books he’s been studying.
“If I didn’t, we’d have had a very different conversation,” he says, pulling his arms around my waist. “I’m going to do whatever it takes, Dani. We all will.”
“Just please don’t leave again without telling me,” I murmur, touching his face. I know it’s a risk to show vulnerability where he’s concerned. While Christopher was once the person I trusted more than any other, these last few years have proven that even the people I love most are capable of hurting me.
Especially them.
“I won’t,” he promises, holding my gaze. There’s something in his eyes that makes me want to believe him, even if it’s only wishful thinking. “You have my word. If that means anything.”
“It does,” I admit, stroking his hair behind his ear. He looks older somehow. Still young and handsome, but his eyes have changed. He’s no longer the carefree boy I used to know, but I guess I’m no longer that girl, either.
We’ve both gone through so much together. In some ways, he feels like a well-worn coat that fits me perfectly, but is still sturdy enough to keep out the cold. I know every plane, every tiny rip and tear, and he knows mine.
His hand cups my face and his thumb trails along the curve of my jaw. My lips part instinctively as his brush against them. He’s so damn warm. My heart leaps the moment our skin makes contact and when he deepens the kiss, I feel like he’s delving into my soul, pulling out things I haven’t felt in so long.
Our tongues tangle and he lifts me onto the table, pushing aside the books he’s been studying. I dig my fingers into his hair and part my legs so he can move between them. He pushes my nightgown up over my knees and the feeling of his trousers brushing against my bare inner thighs makes me tingle all over.
He tastes so good. So familiar, but so different… My magic rises to meet his and I’ve never felt this connected to it. When his eyes meet mine, it becomes obvious that it’s not intentional on his part. Just something that happens between us, unexplainable and magical and thrilling. My skin buzzes with the excitement of this new kind of touch and his eyes light up with curiosity.
“You feel that?” he asks, his voice low and husky.
“Yeah,” I murmur, meeting his lips once more. I hunger for his touch the same way I’ve started to hunger for blood this past couple of months, and I’m not sure which one is more unnerving. “I did.”
His hands slide up my thighs and when his fingers brush against my panties, I squirm in anticipation. Every touch seems to come with more magic, another side of me that’s been unlocked by him. And given the way his breath is hitched and his touch has grown desperate, I’m guessing it’s mutual.
“Danica,” he whispers, my name sounding like an ancient spell on his lips. He breathes it so rev
erently. So carefully.
I start unbuttoning his shirt, wanting to feel as much of his bare skin against mine as possible. My fingers roam the firm planes of his chest. It’s not nearly enough, but it’s a damn good start. I can feel energy crackling between us, like fire in the air, even though none is visible.
“God, that feels…” He trails off like he doesn’t have anymore of a description than I do.
“I know,” I say, pulling him in for another kiss. I need more. I need him inside of me, touching me everywhere, his teeth on my neck… I tear his shirt open the rest of the way and he gives a gruff laugh, pulling my dress over my head. I’ve forgone my corset for the last couple of months, and the paper-thin silk camisole feels like a second skin as he runs his fingers along the path of the delicate lace neckline.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispers, cupping my chin in his hand to tilt my head up toward him. The lust in his eyes only ignites what I’m already feeling and my core is burning hot, ready for him. I arch as his fingers dip into me, spreading the wetness around my clit, a reminder that my body is already eager for his penetration.
He touches me with the expertise of an artist, painting pleasure wherever his fingers brush. My toes curl and my knees part as he works another finger inside of me and I press my hands and elbows back against the desk for a better angle. What he’s doing with his fingers has me on the edge of screaming in ecstasy and he’s barely begun, but when his head disappears between my legs, I realize he has even more colors in his palette.
“Christopher,” I pant as he sucks my clit into his mouth, his lips biting gently at the sensitive flesh. Heat surges into my sex and it’s all I can do to keep from bucking my hips when his tongue delves into me. “Oh, fuck.”
He chuckles softly, his stubble rough on the smooth skin of my inner thighs and tension rockets down from my core as I approach orgasm. The moment I come, the magic seems to unfurl like butterfly wings inside of me and I gasp in shock at the force of my own release.
