“Open the cloak,” he says, as soon as the leather version of a splint is in place.
That sentence takes me off guard.
“Killian, there’s a limit to the number of times I get naked in one day, and I’ve reached it.”
Which lights up a twinkle in his eyes.
“You need to rethink that limit. I am going to strap your arm to your chest, and I don’t mind ripping open my cloak.”
I open my mouth to argue, but he turns sharply and leaps to his feet in the same motion. I jump to my feet, much less gracefully, followed by feeling dizzy and almost falling back over.
I can’t hear a horse or a person, and in the fading light I can’t see anything. Just us, the forest, the river reflecting a moon slowly losing its fullness, and the shadowy line of trees that trace the water’s edge.
Killian nudges me with his elbow and grunt-chuckles.
“Made you jump,” he says.
“W-what?” I stammer, my gaze still scanning the dark shadows.
Three men walk out of the trees on the other side of the river, horses ambling behind two of them.
The tall and slender silhouette on the right, with shaggy hair and a limp, is Roarke. Seth, broad-shouldered and swinging a short blade like a toy, is on the left. Moving down the middle is a still naked man-Pax. I can tell he’s naked even without enough light to see their faces.
Any remnant of the cold that I was feeling is gone – pushed aside by the intense heat flooding out from somewhere chuckin’ inside me.
“He, however, seems to like being naked,” I whisper to Killian, or maybe to myself.
They walk toward us, straight into the river without hesitation, the horses following them. Seth and Roarke both rip their shirts off, and my jaw goes slack. It takes everything in me to keep it closed. The only light left in the sky is from the moon, thank the gods. Maybe they can’t see me ogling at their silhouettes.
They scrub down with their hands, wiping away something I can’t really see. Roarke turns and splashes water on his horse’s chest and flanks. It’s only a minute or so before they amble up the bank, pants still on and clinging tight to their bodies. Water running down their bodies. Their chests, pure hard muscle, and their abs, more hard muscle, and – damn, I need to stop looking.
Seth shakes his head like a dog. His gaze searches the tree line, and settles on our small fire. He smiles. He’s all muscle, almost the biggest of the three, but with gentler definition than his brothers. And arms that are making me drool.
Roarke flicks his hair back, the silver shining in the moonlight. Tall, built for speed, and with the definition of a man whose muscles couldn’t turn to fat even if he tried. He grips his horse’s bridle at the jawline and uses the gelding for support. When his gaze crosses over me, he smiles, no sign of pain.
Pax cuts through the middle of them, moving half a beat faster than his brothers. His chin is lowered, gaze set on me, as he pushes forward. The muscles in his broad shoulders run down to his defined chest. Every inch of him made to attack – to kill.
My body, followed closely by my mind, aches to be close to them all in some stupid equal-proportion-ratio that makes no sense for two reasons. Reason number one is because no woman in history can keep four guys happy. The second reason revolves around the fact that these guys are amazing, deadly, skilled, royalty, and somewhere over three hundred years old. Considering the women and experiences they’ve had, none of them are ever going to find a soot-almost-Saber like me interesting as a partner.
A partner – not a toy, a pet, a shadow, or a mated-possession.
They’ve got another thousand years to live. By then I’m going to be nothing but a speck of dust in their lives.
Doesn’t stop me from wanting them, though. Or from my jaw finally falling open.
“Down, girl,” Killian says in a low growl that clips into a laugh on the last syllable.
He walks out to the guys. Seth meets him, arms going wide in an animated conversation.
“Wieldron Blood! I hate wieldron blood…” is all I catch.
Pax doesn’t even look at his brother. All of his attention is on me. My chest is on fire, and my heart’s racing – but my mind fails to function. He’s in front of me, his arms gathering me against him, pulling me in close, and his lips on mine. No hesitation.
His lips taste like vanilla, and my tongue explores along them, savoring the flavor then being denied by his need, by his own tongue insisting on owning this moment. Owning me.
And all of me is begging to be owned.
My chest rumbles – I have never wanted anyone, anything, this badly – but it’s soundless, and for a second I wonder what exactly my chest is doing. Until Pax’s chest rumbles in return and his teeth, his fangs, pull at my bottom lip.
He straightens a little, slipping away from the kiss. Looking down at me with his eyes alive, I am sure that glowing is more than just Pax. I can feel it under my skin, slipping over our pressed bodies as his power begins to overwhelm my muscles.
Damn my mortality.
The glow settles, and the fangs retreat.
I am wearing only a cloak. He’s not wearing anything.
“I just reset her arm,” Killian grumbles.
The sounds of feet and hooves on the leaf litter move around us, but they barely register.
Just me, Pax, the need for more kissing, right here – anywhere – I don’t care.
I may have just moaned at that idea. But as I lean forward, trying to lift myself a little higher, his fingers slip through my hair, his other hand on my hip, and my whole body is pressed firmly back to the ground.
“Let me control myself,” he whispers.
I open my mouth to say, no, please don’t control yourself, but there's a power-induced tremor in my jaw. Or shock.
“I thought I hurt you,” he says softly, breathing deeply again, and I realize he’s smelling for something.
“What?”
“I didn’t hurt you. No blood,” he says.
“I don’t care,” I say, wanting to add an order for Pax to kiss me again, but even as I begin to think it, my arm jerks.
“I do. I have rules. This.” He stops to wave vaguely at the space between us – which is next to nothing – and his bare abs, bare adonis belt, bare… everything.
“Your rules are stupid,” I say.
“Your approval isn’t required.”
My fist clenches, then shakes open again.
“I was worried about you too,” I say.
His chest rumbles in a deep chuckle. “You were worried about me?”
He’s right. It sounds so ridiculous that I – from the bottom of the food chain – would ever have to rescue any of them – the all-powerful, been training for three hundred years, born with magic and badass skills, Elite Sabers in the group.
“Yeah,” I whisper, because a whisper is all I can manage.
“It’s coming,” Killian says.
“What’s coming?” I try to pull away from Pax, but his grip in my hair and on my hip firms, before reluctantly relaxing enough to let me turn and eyeball the other guys.
“The mist,” Roarke says.
Which still isn’t enough information. Pax’s fingers brush along the back of my neck while I wait for Roarke to realize that I’m still confused.
“You should settle by the fire. You’re cold,” Pax says.
“Still in shock,” Killian adds.
“I’d like to get dressed first,” I say.
“You’re still naked?” Seth’s gaze darts up to meet mine, crinkling from the too-big smile on his lips. He has his horse tied to a tree and is tossing dry clothes by the fire. “Why are you still naked?”
“He wouldn’t let me get dressed.” I point at Killian.
All eyes turn on the big man.
“She needs her arm strapped to her body, or it’s going to deform,” Killian says, without turning to face us.
Oh, that’s right – I was trying to avoid that.
> “What’s coming?” I ask, speaking a little louder than I meant to – which only makes me sound more suspicious.
Pax’s hand stops stroking the back of my neck, sitting heavily instead, and he leans down close to my ear.
“Your arm is going to be strapped. You pick who's going to do it,” he says.
I break free of Pax’s grip and sulk toward the horses.
“Whoever gets to me first,” I declare.
“Me!” Seth shouts, jumping over the fire.
Roarke doesn’t get up, his injured leg stretched out in front of him, not caring that he’s still wet from the river. Killian shakes his head, lowering himself down next to Roarke and offering the guy a strip of salted pork.
Seth runs for me, smiling, until Pax elbows him and sends him flying into a tree.
Killian grunt-chuckles.
“You deserved that,” Roarke calls out.
Seth rolls over onto his back, groaning, “You cheated.”
Pax’s smile reaches up to his eyes, playful and pure – genuine.
That’s when it dawns on me. I’m not keen on getting naked because I am me, and me being naked in front of people is less than comfortable. But there’s an added risk to being naked with Pax – specifically. The guys have all warned me not to let Pax see my whip scars.
A trigger – Killian had called it, and we’ve had enough of those for one day.
I flick my gaze to Killian, hoping my eye-conversation skills are up to the challenge.
It takes a second.
“Seth wins. Pax cheated,” he declares.
“Yes,” Seth says, pumping his fist as he springs to his feet.
I would be groaning and staggering and hurting a lot, but he gets up like nothing happened. Sparking more jealousy in me over their Saber skills.
Pax’s brow furrows.
“Pax, eat,” Killian calls.
Seth lifts his hand and snatches a bandage that I didn’t even see Killian throw. I keep walking, moving behind the horses and trying to work the zipper on Pax’s bag open. I might need to have my arm strapped to my bare torso, but I can put pants on under the cloak first.
Pax doesn’t walk away, doesn’t sit down, but also doesn’t move any closer.
Pax snatches Seth’s dry pants off the ground and pulls them on, then he looks across the fire, placing half his attention on me. The other half is on my Shadow as Seth straps her arm beyond the horses.
The one thing to fight a grimm is something that’s finally dead.
Maybe the words don’t just refer to her. Maybe that’s all of us.
The girl will die, followed by Pax. Chaos might survive for a while – after all, it is his area of expertise. Roarke has no hope.
“Explain,” I say, hedging that Pax has calmed enough – that his wolf has calmed enough – to find some objectivity.
Going on a killing spree helps.
Pax turns and looks like he might actually say something when Roarke cuts over him. “The OverrideSeed was the bearer of bad news.”
“What. Bad. News?” I ask – watching the wolf shimmer over Pax’s muscles.
He looks sharply at Shadow, takes three measured breaths, then turns back toward me in complete control.
Or as complete as any man sharing the one biological form with another being can be.
“There is only Daryan on our tails and his BeastSeed is an issue, but Sromma had a message from Tanakan. He said that Evil is hunting us. Then shared the news that there is a living CataclysmSeed – and they may or may not be in the glass wing,” Pax says.
I still, struggling to keep the shit that wants to fucking rip through me from getting out.
Because if I lose it – then Pax is going to lose it too.
“And?” I finally ask.
“That’s all the Override said,” Roarke says. “All he had time to say before Thane killed him.”
That gets my heart racing.
“He’s reclaimed his name?” I ask.
Pax’s eyes glow. Confirmation. Looks like the wolf – Thane – is here to stay. And that the animal is closer to sentience and control.
There is some hope that they will find their control before we face this BeastSeed.
Some hope.
Even after years with Jessemy, Thane still slipped into a primitive hunt and kill mentality the minute he felt grief.
Those two are a work in progress. Pax’s Seed was repressed – he wouldn’t have survived if it wasn’t. Aeon slaves who fight on impulse would find death a welcome punishment. It wasn’t until our third tetrad trial that the wolf took form. Pax called him his monster. Forty years later, they’d still barely found a balance when the MateBond took over – that was when Thane gained enough respect from Pax to claim a name. They’d barely worked those logistics out before a CataclysmSeed destroyed their lives. Then, when the two had burned out their rage, the wolf was gone again.
Pax’s gaze drops back to the small flames devouring the kindling. Kneeling, he angles himself toward it in a display of ignoring Shadow – but he can still hear her and Seth, and every word they’re saying. We all can.
“Thank you,” he says.
I let out a noise that could have been the word ‘anytime’ if I wasn’t also distracted.
Also by Shadow.
Thinking about the damage Thane will do. Even if she is feeling the MateBond and is responding to it… does Thane understand that there is no wolf hiding within the girl?
Shadow drops my cloak from her shoulders, and it falls to the ground. The horse is covering everything from her waist up, and she’s already pulled a pair of pants on. Roarke clears his throat, snatching another piece of meat from the paper packaging.
“Information on the Cataclysm?” I ask.
“The Override’s not talking anymore,” Pax says.
“Before that?”
Pax shakes his head. Meaning all he heard was the word Cataclysm and lost his shit. They’re all supposed to be dead. But in his rage, Pax could never confirm whether he killed the one who took his child or not. Thane was in charge – and Thane can’t use words in his wolf form.
“We need to be more –” Pax stumbles over the word. “– careful with her.”
“We need a system,” Roarke says. “Or a time limit. So we can take it in turns to keep our distance from her.”
“You’re fine,” I tell him – he needs to hear it. Next to Pax, he’s the most volatile of us.
He would be worse than Pax if Pax’s damned wolf hadn’t become involved.
Roarke sighs. “I’m trying.”
“I hate to admit it,” I tell Pax. “But you’re right. She’s safest with Roarke right now.”
“What? How did you work that out? I just said I need to keep my distance. I’m trying to recommend a time limit and a safe word.”
Pax’s gaze is unfocused, his head tilted so he can listen to Shadow and Seth for a moment. He still looks like that when he opens his mouth to continue, “We split up. I need to inspect Tanakan Prison, but Shade needs to ride for Eydis’ domain and undo this potion-bubble mess. She can’t go anywhere near Tanakan.”
“And you think Shade and me together for a few days is a good idea?” Roarke asks, a genuine hint of worry to his words. “Together. Alone.”
Pax nods. “It’s about a day to Eydis’ domain, then you won’t be alone. I trust you.”
“Good for you,” Roarke snaps. “Riding for a day is no problem. Spending minutes or hours with her is no problem. But Eydis isn’t a part of her bubble. It will just be me and my power that she is feeling. I won’t be able to leave her. To relax.”
I mumble out the only reassurance I know. “She’s stronger than that, you know she is.”
Roarke frowns at the girl’s feet, bare under the hem of Pax’s pants.
“I like being around her,” he says, his words a hoarse whisper, too low for mortal ears. “I don’t want to ruin that. I don’t want to become that monster again. I don’t want to see her eyes �
�� her life – fade because my power has wanted something it cannot have. And it will want it.”
The fire crackles. Roarke is speaking the truth. Pax knows it – he has to. If – when – Roarke’s power latches on to her, stopping him will be like trying to force the rain to fall upwards. Or an arrow to return to its bow in mid-flight.
The wolf says nothing.
Curious.
“What did Mother leave you?” I ask Roarke.
“Let your reflection go hazy in clear waters and see instead through a gray lens.” He says the words immediately, well-rehearsed, but without feeling or understanding.
I point at the girl. “Or gray eyes.”
Silence.
“She’s changing,” I add. “Enforcement’s TruthSeed had no effect.”
Both of them look at me. On the other side of the horse, Seth even stills for half a beat.
“What does that mean?” Pax asks. He’s looking at me, but the question had to be for Roarke, because like I bloody know what it means.
“I don’t know,” Roarke says slowly. “Part of her is Silvari – if her memory is to be believed. She said her mother was mortal, but her father was not. To be strong enough to resist a TruthSeed, her father would need to have been Elite Saber. But her mother wouldn’t have survived long enough to give birth, and even if by some potion, magic, or miracle she did, then she would be Seedless, but not mortal.”
“She smells mortal,” I say.
Roarke nods. “She feels mortal too. Most children from non-compatible Seeds have no access to magic. That doesn’t explain the glimpses of power she has.”
“I can’t tell anymore,” Pax admits, still examining the grass by his feet. “She feels strong to me. So strong, and so fragile at the same time.”
“The window,” I say.
“What… window?” Pax asks slowly, his gaze unfocused in a clear sign that he’s searching his memory. “The windows shattered in a blast of power.”
I huff at him, too busy eating another strip of meat to interrupt his thought process.
“What window?” Roarke asks.
He was fetching horses at the time. Probably didn’t take note of the window when he arrived, or the wall for that matter.
Shadows and Shade Box Set Page 61
