Shattered Dawn (Fallen Guardians Book 5)

by Georgia Lyn Hunter

  He should just let her go. Not like he could be with her anyway.

  Yeah, it’s what he’d do. The others here would watch out for her.

  He punched harder and harder, the pain in his hand barely making an impact as the sounds of brutal thumping ricocheted in the gym. Something tinkled to the ground and crunched beneath his sneakers.

  “Yo, Greek, rein in your shields, man. This place is like walking into a freezer.”

  He ignored the Norse, keeping his mind focused on bludgeoning the sandbag.

  “Dammit, Nik, what the hell’s going on with you?”

  “Nothing.” He grunted, plowing the bag with brutal blows. “I’m fine.”

  “Sure, you are.” Týr snorted. “By the damn stars, Nik, stop for a fucking second. What’s gotten into your craw? Your powers slip, you’re gonna harm the females if any of them decide to come down here to use the gym. You are by far the cool one, calmest of all us bastards, so what’s doing?” Týr stood like a damn guard near him.

  Heavy silence ensued with only the cracking of his fist against leather echoing.

  Then a sharp intake of breath sounded. “Of course.”

  “Don’t want to hear it.”

  “This is about her. Shadow.”

  “Leave her out of it.”

  “How can I?” he growled. “When you’re destroying the gym.”

  “She’s hurt, needs to heal—” He struck another deadly punch, leather split, and the sandbag burst. Powerful hands grabbed him, hauling him back.

  Breathing hard, Nik glowered at his fellow warrior, his throbbing fists clenching.

  “You aren’t yourself. And this is a sure way to get the Arc to bench your ass. Look around you, man.”

  It wasn’t the sand pouring to the floors from the broken punching bag, but the ice covering every inch of the equipment, the floor, the walls—even the fucking ceiling! Uncontrolled, it could be deadly if it seeped into flesh…

  Fuck. He rubbed his face with his blood-smeared hands, his seeping knuckles not even registering. He’d never lost control of himself, not since his first time on Earth eons ago.

  “Want to talk?” Týr asked quietly

  Nik clenched and unclenched his injured fingers, the thrashing inside him hiking.

  “Look, we’ve all been trapped in that hellhole, and I understand—” Týr said as something dark and haunted flickered in his toffee-colored irises. “When shit gets tough, and you need to talk it out, I’m the last person who can offer sound advice, but I’m here for you.”

  Spill his gut at just how dangerous he was?

  The Norse would incinerate him where he stood if he learned of the darkness Nik housed. With their souls glowing like light bulbs, their mates wouldn’t stand a chance if the horror inside him escaped.

  Nik focused on his busted knuckles, watching the skin slowly knit together as his self-healing kicked in. “I’m good.”

  A long second of silence passed. Týr nodded. “There’s no time limit to my offer.”

  With a wave of his hand, he sent out a surge of heat, drying up the puddles from the ice dripping to the floor, leaving only the busted sandbag as evidence to the near collapse of Nik’s psychic shields.

  “On the house.” Týr smirked, then hesitated. “Without my mate, I wouldn’t have found a modicum of peace and probably would have eventually self-destructed. No, the shit doesn’t ever go away. But I find ways to deal with the past now that I have Kira in my life.” With a nod, Týr flashed from the gym.

  A mate?

  As if the word were a catalyst, the evil inside him rioted in vengeance, a dark fucking reminder of his doomed path. With the blood moon mere hours away, his shields were weakening, no avoiding it. He couldn’t procrastinate any longer. It was time to return to Romania.

  Shadow tucked the towel around her damp body and sat on her bed as early morning cast a gray, watery light into her room. Even a shower didn’t soothe the growing pit in her tummy.

  She had to find Nik…and say what? Sorry?

  Guilt choked her, but more, she had to see that he was okay. Maybe Hedori or Kira would know where he was.

  Dressed in a loose, faded pink t-shirt that didn’t chafe her wounds and her short, black and gray plaid skirt, she slipped her feet into her black kicks, thankful to be wearing her own things again. As she walked out of her room, she fastened her damp hair in a loose topknot and made her way to the side stairwell, only to stumble to a halt near the landing.

  Nik stood there, head lowered, listening to whatever the Guardian with the long warrior braids said. Then the warrior glanced at her, nodded in greeting, and took the stairs up. Nik continued down.

  Did he not see her? A growing panic took hold of her. “Nik, wait—”

  He continued without a backward look.

  With a burst of speed, she ran down the stairs. Pain wrenched her chest, but she ignored it, caught up with Nik, and grabbed his arm.

  “What do you want?” His icy tone froze her.

  She hastily dropped her hand, taken aback by his coldness. “I don’t want anything. I just…” Her apology died as her gaze skimmed his closed-off expression. He appeared pale beneath his usually tan skin, lines of exhaustion bracketing his mouth. “Are you okay?”

  “You’re worried about me?” he drawled, but there was no amusement in his flat stare.

  “Stop it. You came to my room this morning, then you…you kissed me. Now you retreat behind this cold mask?”

  “And you couldn’t wait to get away from me fast enough.”

  Heat streaked her face. “That’s not true.”

  Dark laughter escaped him. He shook his head and continued down.

  Dammit. She hurried after him. “Nik—”

  “What?” He whipped around, startling her. More so when he backed her against the wall with his big, hard body, his expression feral, eyes glittering like shattered ice. “Or is this what you want?” He nipped her lower lip. “For me to finish what we started this morning? Fuck you against this wall?”

  No matter how much he infuriated her, thoughts of his body sliding against hers, moving inside her, and her desire heightened. “Is that meant to scare me?”

  “You don’t want to take me on, lígo machitís.” He grasped her nape, lowered his head, and dragged his mouth along her jaw. “You won’t win,” he whispered.

  Christ. Shadow shut her eyes, her skin tingling and her heart fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird. She pushed at his chest, struggling to find her composure amidst this dangerous storm that was Nik. “Win? Who said anything about winning? I don’t even like you—”

  “Stop,” he growled. “I sense untruths, and I give you a lot of leeway. But don’t try it with this.”

  His mouth captured hers in an intense kiss as if trying to unearth the truths she hid. He licked and stroked her mouth, his ball stud piercing sliding against her tongue in a carnal demand. Unable to resist him, she kissed him back. No matter the barriers between them, the man was like her own personal catnip.

  One minute she was straining on her toes, reaching up and kissing him, and the next, he picked her up, bracing her against the wall. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his hips, and the rigid bar of his cock rubbed against her panty-covered core, tightening her body, scattering the remainder of her lucid thoughts. His sheer masculinity, his hard body, and tempting scent enclosed her. He nipped, then sucked her lower lip before sliding his tongue into her mouth again and hauling her deeper and deeper into a sensual web. He rocked his hips, his erection rubbing against her clit, his big palm squeezing her bottom. Desire blazed like wildfire—when reality slammed into her.

  This wasn’t real. He was only proving a point.

  God. She tore her mouth free, dragging air into her burning lungs. “Let me go.”

  “You don’t know what you do to me, Shadow,” he groaned, eyes like white flames, the rawness in his voice shocking her. “You should walk away because I can’t seem to stay away from you, a
nd I should. I’m not safe to be around for anyone, especially you.”

  His words faded her ire. If anyone were dangerous, it would be her. “I don’t understand.”

  He shook his head and lowered her to her feet. The shutters came down over his brief flash of emotions. “I’ll be gone for a few days. The other Guardians here will keep you safe.”

  Her heart bumped painfully. He was leaving? “No, I don’t want them…” Just you. She barely stopped the truth from spilling free. “I don’t know any of them,” she said instead.

  He glanced down the stairs. “There’s something I must do, and you can’t be there.”

  No. He couldn’t mean… An excruciating jolt of pain pierced her stomach. She was so stupid. “I see.”

  “I doubt you do.”

  How hard was it? He wanted women, just not her, because of her demon blood.

  Shadow stepped back, struggling to shut off her hurt. Fine, she got the message. She pivoted for the stairs, then spun around. “Did you see Eddi last night? Explain that I’ll see him in a day or so?”

  Nik stilled.

  God, she hated having to beg for information. But she hadn’t topped the credit on her phone in a long, long while. “Look, forget it. Can I borrow your cell?” She’d check with Darwin, see if he’d given Eddi her message.

  Something dark flashed in his pale eyes, and she tensed. “What is…Eddi? Is he hurt?” She’d tended to his many wounds in the past. So that was always a given.

  Nik moved closer. “Shadow…” He lifted a hand and gently touched her arm. “About Eddi. He…he’s dead.”

  Shadow blinked, his words seeming to come from a distance. But the pain in her chest said otherwise. She shook her head, backing up a step. “No. No. He’s one of the best fighters. He kills demoniis—” Her eyes burned, her heart pumping hard to get oxygen into her lungs. “He taught me. He’s fast—”

  “Shadow.” He reached for her again.

  “No—” She smacked his hand away, taking another step up. “Why are you being cruel? I get that you don’t want to be near me, that you’re too dangerous!” she spat the words. “I mean, it’s why you’re leaving, but to deliberately hurt me?”

  “I will never do that,” he said gently.

  At the stark sincerity in his eyes, she swallowed hard, agony crashing through her in a huge wave. The only person to genuinely care about her was gone. She wrapped her arms around her trembling body. “How?”

  “Gang fights. Aethan and Týr found the aftermath when they patrolled underground. He’d been stabbed.”

  “Wh-wh—” She cleared her tears-swollen throat. “When did it happen?”

  His gaze searched her face. “The night after you were hurt.”

  “And you didn’t tell me straight away?”

  “You were injured, feverish. It took you nearly two damn days to fight through whatever dark magic the bastard used in his tracking spell. You couldn’t do anything, Shadow, not then, not now, not until that bull’s-eye on you is fully healed.”

  Frustration choked her, knowing he was right. But her blood burned for vengeance. While Nate and Aba had saved her, Eddi was the one who truly cared about her…watched out for her.

  “Thanks for finding my backpack.” She wheeled away and sprinted up the stairs.

  “Shadow, wait.”

  Now he wanted to talk?

  She ignored him and dashed for her room.

  His footsteps thundered after her. Callused fingers wrapped gently around her wrist, halting her escape. And meeting his understanding gaze, yearning flashed through her. She wanted to throw her arms around him, ask him to hold her until her pain eased. But that would never happen.

  Nik hated demons, and she possessed a part of them.

  “Don’t you have to be wherever you had to rush off to several minutes ago?” she asked, tone flat, stifling her pain and unwanted jealousy.

  Her sarcasm wasn’t lost on him. His mouth tightened. “Don’t leave the castle.”

  Yeah, that was the most important thing to him, that she kept her ass safe, and his duty would be done.

  She marched off because crying wouldn’t bring Eddi back. So, she locked down her sorrow. But she was going to kill that son of a bitch, Tolvi, as soon as her damn wound healed.

  And Nik… he…he could go fly a kite.

  As if she would just sit back and not avenge Eddi’s death.

  Chapter 11

  The pain in Shadow’s eyes at learning of Eddi’s death torqued Nik. If he could bring back the dead, he would, for her. But he couldn’t.

  He strode through the empty rec room, fingers fisting, the dark souls’ shrieks spiking his skull—theós. He ground down on his teeth. It was the price he paid for the emotions he let free while kissing Shadow. She had a way of cracking his usually rigid control.

  He had to get back to the monastery ASAP. With the blood moon growing stronger, his mental shields were thinning precariously, as proven by his early morning gym ice session.

  Nik stepped out onto the terrace as dawn broke, rubbing his chest, the emptiness back in spades. But three days away from her…and with her impulsiveness…

  Dammit. He got out his cell and shot a message to Hedori.

  Have to go to Romania.

  Don’t let Shadow leave the castle.

  She might be furious with him right now—when was she not?—but at least she would be safe.

  He summoned his powerful mystical abilities, and with a wave of his hand, the air split open. Nik stepped through the swirling portal and into the warm, midday sunlight of Romania.

  Chirruping insects welcomed him as he shut the gateway. He stood beneath a tree for a moment, letting the quiet of nature seep through him. But memories of Shadow, her taste, her scent crowded his mind. The urge to go back yanked him by the balls.

  Hell, he dragged his palms over his buzzed hair, pacing alongside the thick growth of trees. Still hours until midnight and lockdown. He needed an outlet to work through this spiking pain inside him. There was only one thing left to do.

  He dematerialized to the tallest summit of the Apuseni Mountain range, some distance from the monastery, and reformed on the granite surface. Looming peaks surrounded him. Wisps of clouds drifted past, strengthening the feeling of isolation.

  “Race,” he snapped, pacing the rugged grounds. Wherever the dragon hibernated, he would know Nik was there, close to his precious hideout. Even with his fracturing mind, Nik wasn’t insane enough to seek the dragon’s lair. Race responded to intruders with a bellow of fire.

  The air shifted behind him, the loud rustling of beating wings causing a heavy air current to slam Nik forward.

  Growling, Nik pivoted as the scary mofo landed on his massive hind legs on the granite plateau. Enormous wings settled against his body, his car-sized head lowered, and dangerously sharp twin horns curled back, as if pointing to the silvertip serrated spikes running down his entire spine to his lethal tail.

  From the primeval, fading pantheon of Lemuria, Eracier was one of the few of his kind left, and probably even craftier than the deadly black dragon warrior who’d spawned him.

  You called, Race telepathed, lowering his huge reptilian face to Nik’s. The dragon’s mouth stretched in a disturbing smirk, revealing a mouthful of lethal fangs. Need a fight?

  “Not in that fucking form.”

  The dragon chuffed. In a blink, his enormous shape shimmered, folded, and a tall, naked male emerged. A pair of black sweats appeared in his hands, and Race drew them on before strolling over. His long hair glinted like a silver halo beneath the bright sunlight, despite the streak of ebony at the front. “So. You’re back.”

  To stifle his agitation, Nik summoned his obsidian dagger, then flipped and caught the weapon by its tip. “Yeah.”

  “I smell her on you.”

  His mouth clamped tight. He didn’t want to talk about Shadow. Another flip of his weapon.

  “Mate?”

  Nik cut his fellow warrior an imp
atient stare. “You wanna fight or be a pain in my ass?”

  “I take my pleasure wherever I can.” Race grinned, revealing a pair of fangs in his human form. The sharp canines, plus the slash of ebony in his silver mane, and his claret irises glowing eerily like some sinister force, broke up his otherwise ethereal image. The bastard was no angel, not with his huge destructive, motherfucking alter ego.

  Yeah, looks could be deceiving as Nik had discovered eons ago. His mother, his sire, even his caretaker, Zeus, had shown him the truth—perfect to look at, but their actions taught him that love didn’t exist, only lust, and nothing could ever be real.

  But then five months ago, he scented her…

  “So you just gonna stand there and admire me?” Race arched an eyebrow. “Now, indeed, I’m worthy of your worship, but I need blood. And that dagger ain’t gonna help you, youngling.”

  “Fuck off.” Nik flipped the obsidian dagger, and it vanished. He had no idea how old Race was, nor did he care. “I don’t need a weapon to bring your ancient, scaly ass down.”

  Race laughed, the rough sound a ghostly echo rumbling over the mountaintop. A chain rattled as it appeared in his hand, a spiked ball attached to the end.

  Nik pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside, then summoned a barbed baton. In his gladiator days in the pantheon, it was his preferred weapon of choice. Perfect to handle Race.

  The dragon snorted. “That little stick? C’mon then, let me bathe in your blood, young one…”

  Midday sunlight drenched the gardens but did little to warm the chill that had settled in her. Shadow shifted on the chaise longue on the terrace, her anger barely bolted down.

  Fucking Tolvi. She wanted to kill the hellscum for what he did to Eddi, but in her current state, it would be like gift-wrapping herself for the bastard.

  Gently, she pressed a palm to her sore chest as Echo’s pet, a soot-gray cat wandered past her, weaving his pudgy body between the potted plants, stalking a monarch butterfly. Bob leaped, his girth wobbling, but the butterfly darted up and vanished.