by River Ramsey
James nods.
“He must have formed an alliance. Used his tentative reach into Eternus to get past our defenses…”
The fact that he’s saying “our” gives me hope that his turn really was solely due to Aedan’s control.
“There’s something else,” James says, looking intently at Mace. He walks up to the other man, leans in and murmurs something I can’t make out. Something that turns Mace’s face blank with shock.
For a moment, he says nothing. When he’s finally recovered, he looks to me and back at James. “You need to go. His power is too much to transfer without preparation. You’re dangerous right now.”
James hesitates, looking down at his hands again. There’s nothing visibly different about them. The energy that funneled into him has long faded, but I can tell he feels it. Something as troubling as it is overwhelming.
When he nods and steps away, my heart sinks.
“James!” I cry, staggering after him. “Don’t go. You can’t.”
He gives me a conflicted look and just when I’m sure he’s about to give in, he turns and leaps through the window the way Aedan and his men broke in.
“No!” I cry, using all my strength to lunge for him. Mace catches me in his strong arms, and at first, I struggle. I soon lose the energy to fight and collapse against his chest, sobbing.
James is gone. Why do I feel like this time is different?
Twenty-Two
When I wake up back in my own bed, the night before seems like an awful nightmare. At least, I think it’s been a night. My head feels cloudy, like it always does on the rare occasion I manage to oversleep.
My whole body is heavy, too, like lead. Just sitting up is a struggle and when I remember James leaving the way he did, heartache makes it even worse.
I’m not alone for long. I’m not sure what to make of the fact that Mace is the one who comes into the room, carrying a tray of food even though the idea of eating is enough to churn my stomach. He’s still wearing the collar, but after Aedan managed to control him, I was convinced the others would see him as a threat.
Then again, the vampire is dead now. Any control he exerted over Mace is that of a ghost. I’m just not sure that’ll make him any easier to free.
“You’re awake,” he says, setting the tray down on my bedside table. “How are you feeling?”
“Awful.” My voice sounds like it, too. Hoarse, like I was crying in my sleep. “James is still gone, isn’t he?”
“I’m afraid he will be for some time. To protect you.”
“He doesn’t need to leave,” I snap.
Mace gives me a knowing look. “Aedan is—was,” he corrects himself, “one of the most powerful vampires to ever exist. Assuming all that power, even if James is genetically cut out to inherit it, is not an easy process. He’ll return when it’s safe.”
“Aedan is really his father?” I press, still finding it hard to believe. I know children and parents can be as different as night and day, but still. There’s absolutely nothing of that monster in James. Nothing.
“As difficult as it is to believe, it’s the only way he could have absorbed his power,” Mace says thoughtfully.
“Someone has to find him. If he thinks the vampires’ King is responsible for the attack, he’ll try to take him on alone,” I protest.
Mace considers my words, but from his calm reaction, it’s obvious I’m not telling him anything that hasn’t already occurred to him. “I’m leaving tonight,” he says finally. “I’ll find him, one way or another.”
“You will?”
“He’ll need guidance, and no one knows his power more than I do.”
I hesitate, taking in his words. “Why are you helping him? He killed your master…”
For a moment, Mace doesn’t answer and I begin to realize he’s not going to.
“What did James say to you before he left?” I press.
Another moment of silence passes. Just when I’m sure he’s not going to answer, he finally says, “He inherited Aedan’s memories along with his power. Everything. Including the way I came into his service.”
I frown. “I don’t understand…”
“Everything my master told me was a lie,” Mace says, his voice hoarsening with rage. Betrayal. I know it well. “He’s the one who killed my parents. Not Eternus.”
It takes me a second to absorb the information. Even though I’ve hated Mace as much as I’ve loved him, it feels like a punch in the gut. I reach for his hand, surprised when he doesn’t pull away. I can feel the surge of his emotion. The acute pain. The sorrow. Maybe it’s the link. He really is one of my Guards, after all. “I’m so sorry.”
It’s all I know to say. What else could I say to that?
He gives me a smile that doesn’t meet my eyes, squeezing my hand a bit. “It seems you and I have that in common. We’ve both fought for people who lied to us.”
“You can start over,” I tell him, hoping he’ll finally be ready to hear what I’ve been trying to tell him for so long. “He doesn’t have to define you.”
This time, his smile actually reaches his eyes, even if it doesn’t touch his lips. He cups my face in his palm and murmurs, “You never gave up on me, did you?”
My breath hitches in my throat. I’m not used to him being this way. Vulnerable and genuine. It’s the first time I actually feel like I’m seeing the real Mace, and with the veil of pretense stripped away, the attraction left behind is magnetic.
I’m the one who kisses him first, but he returns it with equal passion. His hand slips into my hair and my fingers accidentally brush his rough scars. He freezes, but to my relief, he doesn’t break the kiss.
His hands explore my body the way I’ve imagined on so many occasions. The way he has in so many dreams that leave me blushing and secretive. The reality is better. Sweeter, strangely. His tongue slips into my mouth and as his hands slip underneath my nightgown, pushing it up my thighs, my skin responds to his touch with the same tingling thrill as the others’.
He pushes down his trousers and I feel him poised at my entrance for a moment, his gaze sweeping down over me. “Are you sure?” His voice is rough and sultry.
I nod and pull him closer. When he delves into me, it’s like the final piece of a puzzle fitting into place. My breath grows shallow as my energy surges up to welcome him like a long lost lover. If there was any doubt that our souls are connected, it fades as our bodies become one in rhythm and flesh.
Mace’s hands close around my wrists, gentle yet commanding, and my back arches as he finds the perfect cadence. All that quiet power comes to the surface, and the mystery is no less for knowing him so intimately.
My fingers tangle in his hair and I gasp as he hits my spot. His hand cups my breast, kneading until I feel like I’m on the brink of orgasm just from his touch.
Heat flares in my core, an omega’s instinctive response to an alpha, but my heart’s response goes even deeper. As upset as I was earlier about James, in this moment, there’s only room for the bliss that comes with being wrapped in Mace’s arms and finally knowing that he’s mine.
“Mace,” I gasp, my head falling back as his lips capture my neck. The scrape of his teeth against my skin is erotic and thrilling, and when I find myself wishing he’d bite, his hands press down on my wrists, sending me over the edge.
I come twice before he finally fills me, his body shuddering with power as he climaxes. For the first time, I see a lack of control in his eyes, as he gives himself over to the need and instinct that I’ve already surrendered to. He kisses me hard and we both collapse, but I’m not ready for him to pull out just yet.
I feel like I should say something, but I don’t want to ruin the moment and everything that just happened is far more poignant than words my mind could come up with. Instead, I kiss his left cheek, my lips brushing over the scarred flesh. He freezes again, but when his eyes meet mine, they’re soft and vulnerable.
I sigh contentedly as he finally pulls out
only to gather me back into his arms, stroking my hair.
“You should rest,” he says gently, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead.
I am exhausted, but my heart leaps at the thought of falling asleep now. “You’re going to be gone when I wake up, aren’t you?”
He gives me a knowing look and another kiss of consolation. “I’ll be back,” he promises. “With James.”
“I’m going to hold you to that,” I mumble, burying my face in the crook of his neck. “It took us long enough to get here and I’m not going to let you go that easily.”
He chuckles, still stroking my hair. “I would expect nothing less.”
I toss and turn in my sleep, vaguely aware that I’m alone in bed. It doesn’t last long. I recognize Christopher’s scent even though I can’t quite open my eyes as he crawls into bed beside me and takes me into his arms.
Has he been watching me? I finally open my eyes and realize Mace is gone. They must have changed shifts.
“How are you feeling?” Christopher asks gently, stroking my hair.
“My stomach hurts,” I murmur. I’m not sure if it’s stress or just more strain from the pregnancy, but it seems like it’s getting more intense.
He lowers his hand to my belly, his palm settling gently over the soft curve of it. I feel the glow of his power rushing into me, gentle and soothing. My heart flutters before it calms and the warm sensation of comfort spreads throughout me.
It’s so different from the first time he used his power on me. It feels like love in magical form, and as I relax in his arms, the last of the pain eases away. “Thank you,” I murmur drowsily.
He leans down, kissing my lips. “You’re safe,” he promises. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Twenty-Three
I wake early in the morning with my hand resting on my pain-free stomach and Christopher’s arms around me before the sun has risen. Last night is a blur, but I remember waking up in the middle of the night to find Mace gone with Christopher in his place. The pain in my side that would have kept me from getting back to sleep was easily remedied by his magic, and I soon succumbed to the relief in his arms.
The sky glows a deep blue in the thin spaces between the heavy purple curtains that frame my windows, but judging by the lack of stars, it’s not quite nighttime anymore.
“Good morning,” Christopher whispers suddenly in my ear. The unexpected sound of his voice makes me jump and he laughs as he sits up.
“You scared me. I didn’t know you were awake, too,” I mutter, rolling over to face him.
“I think at night,” he admits, stretching. Probably because I’ve been lying on his arm for hours.
“About what?” I ask, curious. I stifle a yawn. It’s way too early for me to be thinking, let alone talking.
He shrugs. “I’m not used to being here yet. I’m used to sleeping under the stars, for one thing. On clear, warm nights like this, basking in the moon’s glow all night as a wolf… there aren’t words for it.” He lies back down, pulling me into his arms with a faint smile. He kisses my forehead. “Though it doesn’t beat sharing a bed with you. Not at all.”
I snuggle closer with a contented sigh. “What was it like out there, anyway? On your own?”
“The days all blurred together,” he says. “It’s hard to keep track of time when you’re a wolf.”
“You were a wolf the entire time?” I’ve always wondered what that would feel like. If it’s as freeing as it seems to answer the call of the wild.
“Mostly. It’s how I harnessed my powers.”
“Really?”
“My teacher wanted me to stay a wolf whenever possible. Said shifters are closer to the spirit world when we’re wolves, and that it would help me stay grounded.”
“I didn’t know you had a teacher.”
“Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything about him. He’s… hard to explain without showing you. I’m not the best storyteller,” he chuckles. “I’ve been considering showing you anyway, since you’re about the most curious person I’ve ever met.”
“You can show me? How?”
“Through visions. You can watch me,” he replies, gently pressing his hand to my forehead. It feels like I’m being sucked into a tunnel, and for a fleeting instant, I can see through his eyes—I can see me—but it doesn’t last long. He takes his hand away and the vision fades, leaving me reeling and covered in goosebumps.
“I didn’t know you can do that,” I breathe.
“Too much?” he asks worriedly.
“No,” I reply, taking a deep, shaky breath. “No, I just wasn’t expecting it. It felt… strange, but I want to do it again.” I take his hand in mine and place it against my forehead again. “Show me.”
“Okay. If you need me to stop, say something.”
I screw my eyes shut to brace myself for the tunnel again, but it does nothing to help. It’s like the feeling of falling right before going to sleep, but it’s so much longer. So much deeper. When I open my eyes, I’m gazing at a mountain ridge under a starry sky, its peaks glowing in a pale green aurora dancing overhead. This time, I’m not just seeing through Christopher’s eyes—I am Christopher. I can feel his strong muscles and tall body as if they’re my own, and I can feel him holding a heavy leather-bound book, too.
I try not to focus too hard on what else I can feel. This is enough of a mindfuck as it is.
As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I find Christopher is standing at the bottom of a hill in the shadow of a massive, strangely-shaped tree that I somehow know is called the Ellri—the Elder. Its gnarled, leafless branches are all going sideways in one direction as if the wind had been blasting it the same way the entire time it grew, and the branches form the unmistakable shape of a wolf’s head, pointed ears and all.
Christopher looks on as the tree suddenly begins to morph, its twisted branches creaking and groaning as the wolf face comes to life with a low growl. When its eyes light up with actual blue flames, Christopher steps back and I feel our heart rates increasing simultaneously.
“Who disturbs my rest?” the Ellri rumbles, leaning forward until its shadow fully encompasses Christopher. Its flames narrow as it gets a closer look.
Christopher quickly regains his composure and straightens his back, staring into the tree’s fiery eyes. “My name is Christopher. I was sent by my coven. I am a mage in training and have come to ask that you teach me to harness my powers.”
The Ellri laughs heartily. Mockingly. “I have not taught in centuries. What makes you think I will make an exception for you?”
“I was skilled enough to wake you, wasn’t I?” Christopher asks, holding up the book. “That’s no easy feat.”
“You have, but so have others,” the Ellri replies, its head ducking down until its eyes are level with Christopher’s. Its trunk moans under the stress. “What makes you special?”
“I’m a shifter. Shifters rarely use magic.”
The crackling flames grow until it seems like they might overtake the entire tree, but it’s unharmed, its branches immune to the heat that’s making Christopher sweat. “A shifter, you say? Prove it.”
Christopher places the book in the dewy grass and drops to all fours, his wolf taking over. He shakes off his fur as the transformation completes and stands proudly before the tree, head held high.
“So you are,” the Ellri muses. “Rare indeed.”
Teach me, Christopher says again in his mind’s voice. He sounds strong and confident, but I can feel his fear. The fear that the Ellri will turn him down. Everything feels like it hinges on this. I promise, I will not disappoint you.
“It will not be easy. You will suffer.”
So be it.
“Then you must pass my test. Bathe in my flames.”
Christopher’s fear increases, but it’s not long before he quells all hesitation with a deep, resigned breath. I will pass any test you throw at me, he replies, bracing himself.
The tree’s mouth opens and the flames in it
s eyes spread to its gaping, blackened maw. I’m terrified along with Christopher as it breathes fire over Christopher’s body from head to toe, but we quickly realize the fire doesn’t burn. It has a cooling effect instead.
When the Ellri closes its mouth and pulls back, Christopher’s wolf is left panting from lack of breath, but he’s still standing. We’re still standing.
“Very good,” says the Ellri. “You were afraid, but you fought the instinct to flee.”
Christopher looks up, his legs trembling beneath him. That was good? he asks doubtfully. I can feel his doubt as if it’s my own—he thinks the fact that he showed fear will mean the Ellri will turn him down. He’s sure of it.
“Yes. If you had not been frightened, I would have written you off as an idiot.” The tree chuckles. “Show me your magic now, young wolf. Conjure flowers at your feet.”
Christopher closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, which isn’t an easy feat considering he’s still quaking. He focuses his energy on his paws until they begin to warm, and when he opens his eyes, they’re glowing with golden light. Soon, the earth around them begins to glow, too, and the glow spreads out until it forms a circle around him. Within that circle, the grasses stir as if the wind is blowing only around Christopher and nowhere else.
The wolf begins to murmur in his mind, strange words I can’t make sense of even though I can feel everything he feels. A few small buds close to his paws are the first to appear among the grasses, then more and more pop up, choking out the grass. All at once, they blossom into tiny but dazzling white flowers that shine like stars in the moonlight.
“Impressive,” growls the Ellri. “You are a powerful wolf.” It leans back with its face tilted like it’s thinking, then returns to its looming position with what appears to be a vague smile. “Yes. I will teach you.”
Time speeds up suddenly. It’s morning, then night again, then morning, and Christopher is under the tree the entire time, conjuring all kinds of things from plant life like flowers and vines to fireballs and electric bolts. He’s almost never human, and I can feel that side of him slipping away. I can feel the animal taking over with every passing second, especially when he hunts for food, taking down deer and hares and devouring them raw like a feral beast.
