Fated to the Traitor (Portal City Protectors Book 4)

by Georgette St. Clair

  For Asherah, the pollution of the sea could be used to smother her.

  Oil spread through the bubble around her, the whirlpool hastening the process until Asherah could taste it on the back of her throat. White bags made of a material she’d never seen—except when Skuld did this—twisted around her ankles and wrists. Asherah couldn’t move even if she wanted to.

  This was how Asherah’s power was dying. How the world could destroy the very thing that gave them life. It choked her, yanked her prone form back and forth in the thick sludge.

  “You see, they don’t care as much about your sea as they once did. They don’t worship it and give praise to the animals that feed them from its depths. They drain it, drill into the crust, and throw their trash into it without a care. This is all that’s left for you. A world where your sister hasn’t kept your name alive and powerful.”

  Asherah did not want to believe it. She couldn’t.

  When she’d walked among the Fae, both the Seelie and Unseelie had given prayers and asked for blessings from the goddess of the sea, and by extension, Asherah was also paid homage. Because of her affinity to the sea, and her ability to control it to a degree, she was seen as an acolyte of the goddess. Much like Niamh had been viewed as an acolyte of the goddess of earth. Asherah and Niamh had been two halves of a whole, the sea and the land. Inseparable, powerful forces to bow to.

  That was until Niamh became queen and Asherah remained a princess.

  The world changed, but Niamh always kept Asherah at the side of the throne, built temples for both goddesses next to the Palace, and had Feast Day celebrations for them. When would Niamh stop recognizing the joint power between them?

  When she would not listen. When she shut you out of decisions. When she sent you away without escort.

  In the darkness, where Skuld couldn’t see her, Asherah opened her mouth and silently wailed in her head.

  He’s here.

  The oil choked her, slipped down her throat, coating her with death and decay.

  Feel him.

  Her soul wrenched, jerking her painfully to the water’s edge. Her bones ached and joints cracked.

  Let him take this pain.

  She did not understand. No one could take this pain.

  You will die if you don’t. You will become rage. You will become a Fury.

  No! She would never want that. If she did, everything would end. If Asherah became a Fury, she would use the very seas to drown her sister to nothing, wherever she was, without care to who else may meet their demise. Asherah had forgiven her sister long ago. Skuld might not know it, but Asherah was tired of fighting with her anger. But the hurt … the hurt still remained, and Skuld unwittingly plucked at it.

  Asherah’s heart pounded in her chest, a trapped bird terrified of never having that final chance at flight.

  Reach for him.

  Blindly, she did as she was told. Not knowing who was speaking, she chose to believe. Skuld had always this from Asherah, but she would rather die than give her captor what she wanted.

  Help me, whoever you may be.

  The world spun, darkness loomed, and then she was flying through monochrome colors and sharp shards of grass. She felt nothing, no wind on her skin or the slice of the blades. Everything rushed by her too quickly to make sense of it all, but far in front of her—miles and miles it seemed—was a blazing beacon of silver light. It danced as if it were the wind itself, threaded with shadows.

  She had never seen a light more beautiful.

  Asherah reached for it, fading from the pain, the oil choking her and taking her breath. She left the walls of the Forgotten Tower and only focused on getting to that light. It pulled her just as quickly as she raced toward it.

  Only then, when she got closer, did her heart swell. She knew this, understood now what was happening. Her soul cried out, finally sensing what her nearly dead form could not.

  Mine. The half to my split soul.

  She’d never believed, had never even wanted to dream she’d ever know this. All Fae were born as a half and would know instantly when they were in the vicinity of their other half—their Fate. They would become one, stronger, and even lived longer, but in return, they would also meet death together.

  The light grew blinding, and she shut her eyes, covering her face with her frail arms until she slammed to a stop. When she opened her eyes, she was standing on the ground, her white dress falling around her toes, and the light was coming toward her.

  Let me see him. Let me know.

  The male slid to rest just feet away from her, and she sucked in a deep breath. Long, dark hair curled around his shoulders, his pale skin a stark contrast to it. His black eyes danced with sparks of silver, his nose narrow and straight above thick lips pulled back in a snarl. His armor gleamed like onyx with threads of silver through it and she could make out the hilt of a sword behind his head. The fine dusting of a dark beard made her clench her thighs together.

  At the sight of his fangs, she stopped herself from reaching out for him. They were decorated with a silver design of swirls.

  Unseelie.

  She knew the signs of one of them sensing their Fated Pair. She’d studied how their fangs elongated and how the decorations matched the color in their eyes.

  That same color would become the mark on their partner. She had never thought it possible their kind could come together though.

  The Seelie were the progenitors of magic while the Unseelie were the more animalistic souls like daywalkers and shifters. It was a fact once buried thousands of years ago when the Fae decided not to interfere more than necessary with the outside world.

  “You’re here.”

  Asherah hadn’t spoken in so long, her vocal cords hurt.

  Hurt? I feel something of a sort.

  The male’s nostrils flared as he stared at her. Two other males, just as big but with pale hair, slid past her and stopped.

  One spoke. “Kieran, what are you doing? What are you looking at?”

  Kieran.

  Asherah looked over her shoulder at the male with red starbursts in his irises. Even his armor was the color of blood. Warrior. A growl from her Fate brough her focus back to the front. The others couldn’t see her. She’d only been able to reach out to her Fate, it seemed.

  Kieran took one menacing step forward, his eyes hard on his companion.

  “Foraltin, they cannot see me,” she whispered.

  Kieran swung his attention back to her. “You … Who are you?”

  “Show me what I want to see!”

  As much as she wanted to stay, to know this male, she had to go where she was led. Her soul cried out, even as she looked back over her shoulder. Asherah didn’t want to return. She wanted to be free. To finally know peace and happiness. He was close.

  So close.

  He stepped forward, and her heart jerked in her chest when his arm passed through her. He couldn’t touch her.

  Dream of him, Asherah. Dream.

  Yes, she would dream of him.

  You shall see. This is not the last you will see of him.

  She prayed it wouldn’t be. A wayward tug on her body pulled her back. She’d been gone too long. The travel just to get to him had eaten up the time they could share. But she’d come again. As many times as she needed to.

  He was her Fate.

  Whatever she could have of him, she would.

  “I must return, but I shall come back to you forthwith.”

  Before she could say anything else, to entreat him to try to come steadily closer, she was yanked back.

  But at least I know I am not alone.

  Chapter Four

  “Why is my daughter twirling her little fingers, and why are stones floating above her bed?”

  Zoey tended to be a bundle of rainbows and butterflies, she could admit that, but the stuff going on around her daughter was nothing to joke about.

  Maybe. But the Neo thing is pretty cool.

  Isadora was just … different.
She was growing lightning fast, and Zoey sometimes worried she’d miss some major step.

  Zahara swung her dreads over her shoulder and tied them at the base of her head to keep them out of her face before she tossed bones on the ground. The varied pieces of stark white meant nothing to Zoey, but Zahara studied them like they told the secrets of the world.

  “I may ‘ave done somet’ing.”

  Zahara was always doing something. Zoey rolled her eyes. “What else is new?”

  The most reclusive Witch Doctor of Encantado smiled up at Zoey. Looking at her never failed to take Zoey’s breath away. Even though her hair was gray and she sometimes groaned with pain when she stood, Zahara was still one of the most beautiful women Zoey had ever seen.

  And to know she’d given up some of her life force to save Kalinda and Silva only made her more important.

  That wasn’t to say Zoey was comfortable with said Witch Doctor placing her house in a dimensional pocket—who the fuck thought that was possible?—above Zoey and Dominic’s. It for some odd moments when Zahara suddenly showed up while Dominic had been making Zoey, ehm, comfortable.

  The bell system helped with that.

  “So … are you going to tell me what you did, or leave me in suspense?”

  Isadora was still playing with the stones and had added her stuffed wolf too. The thing floated in figure eights around the rocks like it was on ice.

  That’s cool. I want to do that.

  “I made a Blood Pact.”

  That got Zoey’s attention. “What?”

  Zahara sighed. “Can you tell me where Dominic is?”

  “Um, taking some of the wolves for a run. He’s been worried sick about me, and I wanted to give him a break if I could.”

  “No, Zoey. Tell me exa’tly where your man is, chile.”

  Maybe Zahara had given more of herself when she’d healed Kalinda and Silva than they all thought.

  “Close your eyes and reach for him.”

  Humoring her, not quite sure what the hell this had to do with Isadora, Zoey closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

  “In your min’ only t’ink about him.”

  Since giving up her life force, Zahara’s way of speaking had slipped further and further to her island roots.

  “You not t’inking ‘bout him, chile.”

  Zoey shook her head and took another breath before picturing her husband. Deciding not to imagine him naked and pumping his cock—oops, thought about it—with his grandmother in the same room, Zoey just wanted to see him.

  She loved how his large wolf raced through the woods, scenting out game and scaring her silly with secret “ambushes.” She’d come to know his wolf as much as the man. His conscience was in the beast, to be sure, but there was something more animalistic and direct when he was in that form.

  Woods. Game to the right. Go! Rabbit!

  Zoey squeaked as her vision shifted, melded, and reformed to a haze of green and brown. The woods went by too quickly for her to see clearly, but if she didn’t try, her nose gave her all the information she needed. Follow the nose.

  A howl twisted up through her chest, and the elation she sensed was overwhelming. It swelled, stronger and stronger, until it blasted out of her and filled the night sky. Crickets chirped, birds took flight.

  The night was alive.

  Mate.

  Warmth. Love. Protection. It all slid through her at once. She was in awe but present in the forest at the same time, her paws spreading to take heavy weight. She could smell the rabbit and the fresh powder from her daughter. She loved and was loved.

  “Dominic.”

  The wolf howled again, sliding to a stop as the other wolves joined in. The song made her heart race in her chest, and her blood heated. Here, the night spoke to her and she was one with the moon. It hung heavy and buttery yellow in the night sky, guiding the wolves with its soft light.

  Mate.

  “What, what is this?”

  “The Blood Pact. When you delivered Isadora, you was dying, Zoey. Not a t’ing to tell a new father. I had to do somet’ing to make you stronger. Bonding you with the chile made it so. I unlocked her gifts and had her share them with you by her blood with her father.”

  “Are you saying I’m linked with Dominic now?”

  Zahara nodded. “As long as there is blood running t’rough his veins, you be stronger. You are not a wolf, but you can connect with him, know where he is.”

  Zoey looked over at Isadora who was now twirling freaking Pampers.

  Stones.

  Wolf toy.

  Pampers.

  What sort of messed-up game was this?

  “You said you unlocked her powers?”

  “Dominic was the son of a mage, Zoey. My daughter had Witch Doctor blood in her veins, from me.”

  Zoey could almost guess the rest. “You made my daughter a Witch Doctor.”

  “Not made. She already was one; I just let it out.”

  “Why?”

  “Her wolf wanted to take over. Wit’out the power of her Witch Doctor side as balance, it would have.”

  Zoey watched as Isadora lifted both hands and shot all her toys around the room. Zoey ducked with a squeal, but Zahara never moved.

  Not a single toy hit her.

  “One day, I’ll teach her how t’ use what she got. Until then, it be t’ere to keep her safe. She’s a natural t’ough.”

  Zoey wasn’t sure if Zahara looked proud or slightly worried, maybe a mixture of both.

  Greaaaaaaaaat.

  Zoey’s phone rang and she looked at the screen before answering. “Well hello, sexy.”

  “Weirdest thing happened.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. I was running with the wolves, and I could have sworn I felt you with me. Like you were right here. Now, I’m standing naked in the woods with a hard-on, the likes of which I won’t be able to live down for a month now that the others have seen it.”

  Is it getting hotter in here? I suddenly feel like taking off all my clothes.

  “Oh my.”

  Dominic growled into the phone, and Zoey’s panties combusted.

  Oh, look. A waterfall. Cleanup on aisle two, please.

  “What are you wearing, Zoey?”

  Shit, not a good time to play this game.

  Zahara was still there, and Zoey was in the baby’s room. She was losing her mind. After delivering Isadora, she seemed to want her mate more than ever. Call it crazy hormones, or whatever it could be, she couldn’t stop craving what only he could do for her.

  Zoey cleared her throat. “Zahara says she created a Blood Pact. That’s what you felt. I was linking with you. Oh, and our daughter is also a Witch Doctor. Goodbye!”

  Zoey hung up before Dominic could yell into the phone. He was not going to be happy something else was going on. It seemed everything was getting crazy lately. Zoey and Dominic’s mating hadn’t been the easiest, but it was about the least crazy thing of any of the couples.

  “He’s going to come home losing his mind if he doesn’t blow my–” Zoey’s phone blared with Dominic’s ringtone and she silenced it. “Spoke too soon. You’re going to be here when he returns home with two-thousand questions, right?”

  “Look, it’s time for my tea. You’ve got t’e baby and all t’at on your ‘ands. Call if she t’rows anything out the window. Bye!”

  “Wait!”

  Zahara was gone, already stepping into the other plane to her house. Of course, Zoey couldn’t really bitch when she’d hung up on Dominic before he could ask anything. She just didn’t like confrontation, and Dominic could be intense.

  Most of the time, she ended up sleeping for hours on end after he decided to “punish” her answer out of her. That was delicious as hell, but with the baby, they didn’t get the same time for that. Dominic was also good for tit-for-tat and leaving her unsatisfied and on edge over and over again when she had to stop to care for Isadora. No, she was not going to let that happen.

  She just
needed to call in reinforcements. She dialed Giuliana and waited.

  “Zoey, Dominic already called. Not helping you out this time. See ya!”

  “No. Wait.”

  Didn’t matter. Giuliana was off the phone.

  Dammit. Okay, who next?

  “What did you do?”

  Zoey gasped in mock horror. “I can’t believe you would think I did anything.”

  Kalinda chuckled. “Zoey, you never call in the middle of the day and feign that level of ignorance without it being something you’ve done. I know you better than that, so spill it.”

  Okay, maybe Kalinda did know Zoey pretty well. “I may have told Dominic some crazy news and hung up.”

  “Oh, the ‘Zoey Drive-by.’”

  “What?”

  “That thing you do when you get asked questions or have something to say and then you leave or hang up before anyone can react.”

  “You guys gave it a name?”

  “Yup. Why do you need me?”

  “I want you here by the time Dominic gets home, please.”

  “Ah, sorry. No can do. You see, Dominic called and told me what happened. He also said not to help. Plus, remember those pound cakes you conned out of me when I was looking for Romano so I could find out if he loved me and he was already on the way? That time? Yeah, so … Goodbye!”

  Zoey groaned in frustration as friend number two dipped out on her. They were no fair. None at all.

  “Hehehe. I know who’s always in for a good time.” In desperation, Zoey dialed one more female who’d even hope to challenge Dominic to anything.

  “You’ve reached Queen Cool-ass extraordinaire, Zoey. Kalinda told me that even if you offer me the right to post said conversation on SpellBook for the world to see, I’m not to say yes.”

  “I’ll let you post that picture of Romano falling face first into Mr. Davidson’s ass when he hit him with the scooter,” Kalinda yelled in the background.

  “Oh my gods, Kalinda. I knew you loved me. Mr. Davidson is always having accidents at the bingo hall and then needs the other wolves to come help him. Man, that mage is always giving me material. What’s he, a Level-1 Fire Mage, right? Oh gods, I’m going to caption it #FireInTheHole. This is golden. Anyway … later, Zoey!”