by Kira Nyte
Rhy recalled the Whisperer’s words. Her clue about the tether.
“She can’t cross into this realm. She’s trapped in Andallayne.” Rhy leaned away as Arrick twisted to look at her. Curiosity piqued his expression. “She has used too much of the Goddess’s powers and resources to allow her to cross into this realm. She needed someone who had the freedom to cross over at her will.”
“Why would she need me? Until this time, when she demanded I track you down and get the Heart and bring you back to her, I don’t think any of my hunts have been significant. Then again, I don’t recall much about them.”
Rhy pondered that for a long time. It didn’t make sense to keep Arrick around for over a century for little to no reason. And simply to cause havoc in the human realm to no purpose?
It didn’t make sense at all.
Arrick hunched forward again, slipping his hands around the back of his neck. His distress intensified each minute, thickening the air around them.
“There’s more,” Rhy said.
“There’s always more, isn’t there?” He snorted. “She gave me a deadline to find you and the Heart.”
“That does not surprise me. When is this deadline?”
Arrick lifted his head enough to catch her gaze. “Tonight.”
Chapter Sixteen
“What happens tonight?” Dalila asked, her voice an octave higher than normal. Her eyes were wide and her jaw slack. “What? What happens?”
“If I don’t have Rhyannon and the Heart to give to the witch, my life is forfeit. It will not save Rhyannon, only prolong her life until the witch catches her.” The corner of Arrick’s mouth twitched as he suppressed the urge to scowl. This entire trip to Dalila’s house had brought nothing but pain and frustration and panic. Well, almost. The only light in the gathering blackness was his princess. “She’s hell-bent on destroying Rhyannon and possessing the Heart.”
“Yeah, well, we don’t barter with witches of the dark,” Pandora said, her chin lifted in defiance. “Especially with our friends. She’s going to have to figure out a different plan.”
“Ideas? ’Cause I’m certainly all ears if it protects Rhyannon.”
His princess folded her arms over her chest and arched her brows. Arrick hardened himself against her stubborn fire. Any other time, he’d find it incredibly endearing. Right now, when the day was ticking away and the hour of reckoning was quickly approaching, he wasn’t amused. “Pandora, you said yourself that you weren’t strong enough to counter this witch’s magic.”
“That’s me. My spells can go, well, not as planned sometimes. That’s why I’ve worked with Willa on the amulets, like the new one I gave you when we got here.” Pandora shrugged. Arrick instinctively reached for the amulet around his neck. After his near transformation at the hands of the witch’s magic, Pandora insisted on changing the amulet out every day. “Alice is powerful. Get a bunch of us together, we can do some damage. But, ‘tonight’ is a broad timeframe.” Pandora glanced at her watch. “It’s five o’clock now. That really doesn’t leave us much time, period.”
Arrick’s hope fizzled. “What could Alice do?”
“A lot.” Pandora pulled her cell phone from her purse and tapped her fingers over the screen. “Let me put in some calls to a few people and see what we can do in the short time we have.”
Arrick watched Pandora disappear into the kitchen before dropping his attention to Dalila’s horrified expression. “Rhyannon will be safe.”
“I know that. Rhyannon has to be safe. She’s the princess. She needs to survive to make Andallayne flourish again.” Dalila whimpered, her iridescent wings quivering behind her. “Rhy, I told you I was doing a miserable job of protecting you. I’m a horrible caretaker.”
“Dalila, stop that nonsense. This was bound to happen at some point. There is only so much running one can do before the chase comes to an end,” Rhyannon said.
Arrick’s attention shot to her. “What?”
Rhyannon shrugged. “It’s true, Arrick. One can only run so long, so far, before whatever is chasing catches up. At that point, you need to decide. Do you keep running or will you stand and fight?” She frowned. “Fate.”
Fate.
He never believed in fate until this entire debacle. He never believed in much after his freedom was stolen from him in the most merciless of ways.
Rhyannon had a point. A couple of points, in fact.
There was only so far a person could run. Arrick ran for years, decades, a century. From himself. He was never able to escape the beast he had no control over. He was the wolf, the wolf was him, and the witch had her black magic too entwined with both man and beast.
There was no escaping her and, therefore, no escaping himself.
Fate was something new. Something that, until the moment the word slipped from Rhyannon’s lips, Arrick scoffed at.
Arrick had tracked Rhyannon to the flower shop that fateful day. He intentionally bumped into her with the expectation of a quick and easy job done. Boy, was he wrong.
That afternoon set the wheels of fate into motion.
As he stared at his princess, those pure green eyes watching him with a mixture of potent emotions, he realized that although the witch sent him on a hunt, fate had an entirely different plan. One that included this. The love he felt for her. The devotion and the dedication and the hope that he might be able to give her everything she needed.
He could. And he would.
“Fate,” Arrick repeated, his voice soft.
“Yes. Fate.” Rhyannon touched his cheek, her fingers feather-light against his skin. He weakened a bit beneath that sacred touch, and turned his face to kiss her fingertips. “Come with me.”
“Now?”
The corner of his princess’s mouth curved into a small grin. She dropped her hand to his and led him to the front door.
“Rhy, where are you going? You can’t leave. Pandora—”
“I’m going nowhere, Dalila. Stay here. We’ll be right back.” Rhyannon held open the door for him to pass through, then pulled it shut as they stepped onto the front porch. To his surprise, she led him down the stairs and into the front yard. A place where, despite the wards, he felt vulnerable and desperate. Rhyannon turned to face him and took his other hand in hers. “What is it you want most, Arrick? If you had to make a choice in this very moment of what you wanted most, what would it be?”
That was simple. “I want this to be over so I can be free of her and give you the life you deserve. I want to be yours, without the witch in my head.”
A sharp pain stabbed him through the skull. Arrick yelped, gasped, and hunched over as the pain spread through his head and down his neck.
“Then, we end this,” Rhyannon said.
Her calm in the face of his distress would have been unnerving had he the strength beyond the agony to register what was happening. The witch’s powerful essence split through his skull. The beast tore up through the bowels of his spirit, howling and snarling and craving freedom.
He fought the witch until he fell to his knees, his bones giving way to her direction as the wolf lay claim to his body.
Fate.
As he began to lose his grip on his consciousness, he looked up into the worried green of Rhyannon’s eyes as she stroked his hair. So calm. So poised.
“What…are you…”
“Trust me, Arrick. This is the only way.” She pressed a soft kiss to the burning skin of his cheek. “I love you. Don’t you ever forget that.”
Maybe he had everything wrong. The witch wasn’t who he had to worry about.
The woman who stole his heart. She was the one who had deceived him.
Fate.
What a fickle thing.
* * *
Dread and panic warred within Rhy’s mind, but she did everything to keep her expression void of the inner turmoil. She sure hoped her decisions tonight wouldn’t lead to her death, Arrick’s death, and the extinction of her people.
Or worse.
Arrick writhed on the ground, his body shifting as the wolf tormented the man in his fight to maintain control. Her own body ached at the sight, his pain felt through her muscles and his bewilderment fluttering through her mind. The thick coat of black fur consumed his skin, drowning the beautiful snowy patch over his brow before his head contorted and stretched. Clothing blended with his fur, absorbed by the shift. Arms and legs twisted and molded into those of a massive canine.
The entire transformation took less than thirty seconds, but Arrick’s agony made it seem like forever.
When the wolf bounced from his side to his paws, Rhy found herself staring into the glowing red eyes of the predator she’d once feared. The wolf’s muzzle quivered and his hackles rose. A low, rumbling growl started in the pit of his body and resonated straight through Rhy.
“You have a job, Arrick. It’s time you completed your assignment.”
Sweet Goddess, I hope I haven’t miscalculated this.
Without a second thought, she reached for the fake amulet she had asked Pandora to provide—sans an explanation why—and lifted it from the wolf’s neck.
The wolf snapped, closing his strong teeth around her forearm. Rhy sucked in a whimper, slapping her free hand over her mouth. He didn’t break skin, but if she tried to pull at her arm, he’d tear her to shreds.
A moment later, she was stumbling at an awkward angle, trying to keep up with the wolf’s trot toward the woods across the street as he used his grip on her arm to pull her along. At least she had the insight to slip out the back exit at the Gingerbread Inn and divert the officer stationed at the entrance. She couldn’t risk any interruptions, any intervention, from Dalila or Pandora, and certainly not Sheriff Merrow.
A dull throb began in her arm that rose to her shoulder from the awkward position. The wolf’s teeth held firm as they crossed into the haunting forest across from Dalila’s house. The thrum of magic and power pulsed through the soles of her shoes, potent and strong and undeniably dark. The deeper they went, the more suffocating the air.
Until, at last, the wolf stopped, his hold on her arm unyielding, and his ears perked up expectantly.
A paper-thin layer of fog spread over the ground toward them. Rhy stepped back. The wolf growled in warning, giving her arm a tug. She sidled closer to the beast. Despite Siofra’s control over Arrick in this form, she knew the wolf was the lesser of her threats.
Still, she couldn’t help but listen to the rapid thump of her heart echoing through her head or suffer a momentary faintness as her shallow breaths caught up with her. She was young and untrained in magic compared to the adversary rolling toward them. A quick glance at the wolf strengthened her resolve. There was no turning back now. She refused to let Arrick suffer under Siofra’s control any longer.
As he wanted his freedom, so did she. Their curses were different, but created by the same force. A force that drove them together. Spirit mates.
The fog split and circled Rhy and the wolf. She kept her attention on the thickening mass in front of her, curious and anxious at the same time. What was happening?
As if in answer to her unspoken question, a veil appeared, its powerful vortex sucking her in. The wolf led her forward until she lost her footing and tumbled through the rippling portal.
Rhy scrambled to her feet on the other side and pressed her back to the nearest tree. She eased her rushed breathing and the tremors that shook through her arms. Resting beneath her shirt, the Heart warmed against her skin, recognizing their homeland.
In her pocket rested her only weapon.
The imposing black wolf padded up to her. He lifted his handsome snout and stared at her with those eerie red eyes. For a long moment, they stared at each other. Rhy willed the wolf to recognize her, not as the prey of some power hungry sorceress, but as his devoted spirit mate. The woman he loved when he was a man.
“Arrick, fight her,” Rhy whispered.
“Oh, my dear little Princess. He fights me until he turns blue.”
Rhy stifled a gasp. She grappled to maintain her composure, fearing any sign of weakness would leave her, and Arrick, wide open for a possible deathblow. Slowly, she pushed away from the tree. The wolf ducked his head and trotted toward his master. Rhy twisted to face this unknown force who wanted to destroy her home and her family. The enemy who was a nameless entity until the other night. A woman who held a potent beauty surrounded by pure evil.
Siofra wore a beautiful dark green dress. Her long blond hair fell in waves over her shoulders. Luminescent blue eyes cut through the darkness, filling Rhy’s veins with ice. The sorceress’s face was unchanged from when Rhy watched the sisters in the Whisperer’s magical globe. Not a moment of time-worn evidence marred her skin.
Despite her petite stature, the sorceress emanated a huge presence.
Rhy’s heart fractured a bit when the wolf circled Siofra’s legs and came to sit by her side. Her loyal, ever-obedient weapon.
Siofra lowered a hand to the wolf’s head and slowly stroked it. Those blood-red eyes stared at Rhy, unblinking.
“He’s quite a handful, I must admit, but I’ve trained him well.” Siofra tilted her head slightly, gauging Rhy. “Alas, should I expect anything less from my descendent?”
Rhy had no time to hide the shock that consumed her. Did she hear Siofra correctly? Arrick was her…descendant? Which meant Arrick wasn’t just human and wolf. He was—
Siofra laughed. “You seem surprised. I’m certain the man would be surprised as well.”
“That is not possible,” Rhy said before she could catch the words from falling out of her mouth. She wouldn’t believe Arrick was related to this evil creature in any way.
“Does it bother you that you’ve lain with a man who is a direct blood relative of mine?” Siofra’s serenity morphed into something cold and cruel. She stepped away from the wolf and closer to Rhy. “Yes, Princess. I’m aware of your affair with my possession. He tried so hard to hide it from me, but he loves you so much that he kept slipping up.”
Rhy took a single step back and leaned to the side, trying to keep one eye on the wolf while she watched Siofra’s approach. “He is nothing like you.”
Siofra pushed her bottom lip into a pout and tipped her head in mock thought. “Don’t fool yourself. Look at him as the wolf. He’s as vicious as I can be.”
“Release your control over him and I’m sure that will change.”
Siofra stopped her advance and glanced at the wolf. “Very well.”
Rhy’s brows furrowed. The sorceress’s calm couldn’t be a good thing.
Siofra stretched out a hand and gave her fingers a sharp twist. The wolf snorted and dropped to his side. Thin black smoke curled around him as he transformed from wolf to man, leaving a heavily-breathing Arrick curled in on himself.
Rhy gave the sorceress a wide birth as she hurried toward Arrick. She knelt beside him and helped him sit up.
“I offered to grant him freedom should he be successful in this mission. And successful he…well…I have yet to determine that,” Siofra said, her humor edged with ice crystals. A light breeze whipped up, sending the dead leaves along the forest floor into a tumbling rotation. “It seems you deceived him to come to me. If I know Arrick—and due to our rather complex familial ties I am entitled to say I do—he would have sacrificed himself to save your life.”
Arrick shuffled his larger frame in front of Rhy, remaining on his knees. “Leave her be.”
“Leave her be. Oh, don’t hurt the girl. Don’t you lay a hand on my lover.” Siofra waved her hands in mock taunting. Then she groaned. “Really. Come up with something more original.”
“What do you want with her? Why Rhyannon?” Arrick demanded. Rhy rested a hand on his shoulder, but it didn’t ease the tension riding along his muscles.
“I’ve waited for this day for well over a century. The day when I would get my revenge on that little princess’s father for deceiving me all those years ago. He made a fool of me, and I have return
ed the favor. But I’m not through.” Siofra lifted her arms. The breeze kicked up and the leaves funneled around the three of them. Dust and debris scratched at Rhy’s face and she squinted to keep it from blinding her. “I will make him suffer as he watches his only daughter fall to me. He will know pain and suffering and humiliation right before I cast him as my dog so he can watch as I destroy the land he loves so much.”
“This is over a lover’s quarrel?” Arrick asked.
Siofra shrieked. Rhy cried out when Arrick’s body was flung through the air to crash to the ground. He groaned, his face crunched up in pain.
Rhy jumped to her feet and placed herself between Siofra’s next attack and Arrick.
“Stop!” she demanded.
“Think not for a moment I don’t know what you are to him. And what he is to you.” Siofra raised a hand to the sky. Bright bolts of electric blue struck her palm, waves of wiry blue skating down her arm and her body. “Spirit mates. I can feel the pull like the lightning against my skin. I can feel it in his spirit and sense it reciprocated within yours. To think, my descendant a spirit mate to a prissy princess. The dishonor to me.” She scowled. “Oh, the Goddess may think this amusing until I ruin her little plan.”
“Why? Why do you have this long-standing hatred toward my family? Toward me? What did my father do to you? And how is Arrick a relation of yours? Nothing makes sense, Siofra. Nothing. You’re acting like a child throwing one of those temper tantrums—”
Rhy had only a split second to rip the roots up from the ground and form a shield to deflect the sorceress’s magical attack. The woodland Goddess answered her silent plea for help, bending the forest to her wishes. The blue fizzles of electricity skittered over the wooden shield until they dissipated.
After a moment, Rhy let out a low breath. It felt great to call upon her magic without repercussion. It felt great to know she had a means to defend herself that wouldn’t leave her vulnerable.
