Fated to the Traitor (Portal City Protectors Book 4)

by Georgette St. Clair

  “No, I’m fucking asking. Heath’s death has to be off the table.”

  “For now,” Romano added.

  “Shut the fuck up, all of you. The Lombardi Pack has no issue with the Guardian. We are facing enough from the Chaos Realm.”

  “Explain,” Torin demanded.

  Dominic cracked his neck in agitation, but he told the whole story, leaving out nothing.

  By the time he finished, Torin glared at Heath.

  Sort of odd knowing someone was doing that when they had no pupils.

  “He’s still going with me.”

  “What? Did you not hear everything we just told you? He came to warn us, Torin,” Kalinda argued.

  “Yes, but he also brought trouble to our doorstep.”

  “Was I supposed to leave my Foraltae there?”

  “If it meant saving millions of lives? Yes.” Torin was serious.

  “He wasn’t going to leave my sister in that fucking tower.”

  Torin turned on her, gripping Silva’s chin with hard fingers. “How important is the male to you?”

  “He isn’t. My sister is.”

  Torin stared into her eyes, his runes dancing faster over his skin. “Is your life worth hers?”

  “Always.”

  “You have changed, young Queen. Bind him to you, and I will leave him.”

  “What?”

  Yeah, Heath seconded Dominic’s question. The room fell silent, those who had not spoken watching on quietly. Even little Isadora seemed to sense the danger in the room.

  “Make him your Wynathraeda so that if he breaks his word, in any way, his life is forfeit.”

  “That will kill Asherah.”

  “The he has an excellent incentive to act right.”

  What other choice did they have? The Guardians were Level-7 mages minimum, and Torin was old and powerful. If he wanted to make problems for them, he could do it with his eyes closed.

  “Fine.”

  Torin stroked—stroked—Silva’s neck, his runes dancing in dizzying speed until one slithered from his bicep and over his forehead. The closer it got to Silva’s skin, it switched from glowing red to red with dashes of silver around the edges.

  “Be bound, Niamh Danaan of the Silver.”

  The rune leapt from Torin’s skin and slammed onto Silva’s neck. She screamed, her body twisting, and Torin gripped her in his arms to keep her from falling.

  Heath began to burn.

  He fell to the floor, twitching, trying to catch his breath. Everything. Fucking. Hurt. It burned, aligning and realigning as his organs smashed back together.

  “Heath!”

  Asherah’s scream reached his ears, but he couldn’t soothe her. There was no way he could reach out to her.

  There was a Tether, thick and barbed with black and silver, spanning from Silva to Heath. Shadow and silver. The two of them together.

  “You will be bound to the law of this bond. You will answer to her. And if you break this, one of you shall die.”

  All at once, the pain dispersed and he could breath. “Shit.”

  “Can I have that? It’s like a fuck-his-world-up-at-any-time button,” Romano quipped.

  Heath couldn’t do more then send him a one finger salute.

  “You’re a bastard,” Silva hissed at Torin.

  “Perhaps, but a necessary one. The Guardians will now allow Heath to be beholden to the Ales and her Cosantiór. As such, Heath’s tied men are also bound. Also, Silva, you have the gift to fix the child. Good day.”

  The fucker walked out. Just walked out like he hadn’t changed the lives of seven people in Dominic’s hold.

  “I think I hate him,” Heath groaned, getting to his feet.

  “I think I love him,” Romano returned.

  “Of course, you do.”

  “What the hell did he mean ‘fix the child?’” Dominic roared.

  Silva turned on shaking legs and fingered the rune on her throat. “He showed me, and he means Isadora. The extra life energy within her that’s forcing her growth.”

  “Make this make sense.”

  “Asherah and I can syphon some of it out. But we have to give it to someone. They will … be younger.”

  The room went silent.

  “Oh, chile. Give it to me, t’en.”

  Dominic looked over at Zahara. “Are you sure?”

  “I’ve got the age to spare, and I gave some of mine up when I saved Silva. Seems fair.”

  “What will it do to my daughter?”

  “Let her be a normal child,” Silva explained.

  “Are you sure she’ll be okay?” Tears danced in Zoey’s eyes. “I don’t want anything to happen to my baby.”

  Dominic reached for his mate, pulling her against his chest. “Silva wouldn’t hurt her.’

  “Please.” Zoey pleaded.

  “I swear it, Zoey.”

  “If it won’t hurt her, I trust you,” Zoey whispered.

  Silva nodded and reached for her sister. “Bring on the sea, sister mine.”

  Together, the Fae women, brewed a ball of silver lightning traveling through rolling seas and slammed it over Isadora. Romano and Pasquale held Dominic back as Isadora jerked in the water.

  “Don’t hurt her,” Eiravel roared.

  But the sisters still worked, pulling bright-green light from Isadora and pushing it into Zahara.

  Before Heath’s eyes, the Witch Doctor’s hair turned black, wrinkles disappeared from her face, and a glow came back into her eyes until the green faded. Water washed away, Isadora sank into Eiravel’s arms, and Dominic broke free to get to her.

  “She is resting,” Eiravel assured her father.

  Dominic took her from him, and Heath’s second looked like it pained him to let her go. “Did it work?”

  “Yes,” Asherah whispered, drooping against Heath’s chest. “Your daughter is not carrying the extra life energy she once was.”

  Zoey kissed Isadora’s head, running her fingers through her hair and checking her over. Heath couldn’t blame her, even just watching had been terrifying.

  Zoey whispered, “I love you, Isadora.”

  “Little Rosemary,” Silva quipped, and it was like the whole room took a collective breath.

  They may have all made it out of the meeting with the Guardian unscathed, but the repercussions of what was done were still to be seen.

  “Then everyone out. We can reconvene later, but frankly, I’m exhausted.”

  Heath couldn’t argue. “We’ll head back to the inn.”

  “Correction, you’ll be heading with me to Council Headquarters. Staying there will keep down confusion,” Kalinda explained.

  “Then lead the way, Ales.”

  “Kalinda is fine. I’m pretty badass all by myself, thank you.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Where have you been for so long?”

  The answer was too simple, but Asherah had to start somewhere. Her sister’s violet eyes were pleading.

  “With Skuld. I never made it to the Feast Day.”

  Silva shook her head. It was odd to think of her that way, but everyone else called her such, and it did fit her. Her Fae sister tucked her wings behind her and sat at a mahogany desk. Kalinda had given them the room to talk.

  Asherah had not been given the gift of flight; it only belong to the coronated Queen of Seraph. The presence of the wings marked Silva for who she was more than any crown ever could.

  “What happened?”

  “I was accosted by some of Joran’s men, and I knew I had to tell you. I tried to get back to you, but his men were everywhere. I knew they were going to kill me, and Skuld appeared. I thought she’d help me.”

  Asherah’s throat ached. A hundred and seventy years separated them, and the gap was large. So many things, so many unanswered emotions. Their relationship was another casualty of this war they did not understand.

  Two sisters. Of the same House. Separated.

  “A Norn. We thought they were myths.�
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  “They are very real.” Asherah shuddered at the memory. “She wanted to change me into a Fury.”

  Silva shuddered. “It was lucky she did not, and we don’t need to tell them all that would entail.”

  A Fury was more than rage and emotions propelled inside of strong magical Fae. It was the bringer of the end of time. A harbinger of the apocalypse. Asherah was not trying to hide it, but there were things known to the high House of the Fae that were not common knowledge, and she knew spilling those secrets could make others use it for their gain.

  There were many ways to turn a Fae into a Fury, and none of them could risk someone finding a way.

  “If Skuld wanted to bring on the end of time, this changes things. She’s not after just me.”

  No, Asherah never thought she had been. No matter what Skuld’s plot was, only she knew the details of it.

  “She’s going to come after me.”

  Silva got up from behind the desk and came to Asherah’s side, wrapping her wings around her in a tight embrace. “You will have me by your side. I’m not the same woman I was before. I promise.”

  “Even to say that makes you different.”

  “Most of the time I’m giving the males here a hard fucking time, or generally being amazing. But I do remember what we once had, sister. I want to find it again.”

  “I do too.”

  And she did. Heath had given Asherah more than she could hope for. Not just her freedom, but her family too. She now had a chance to live her life the way she wanted to.

  “So … Heath, huh?”

  “Heath.”

  “You’re blushing.”

  “You would be too.”

  Silva chuckled, and the light, metallic scent of her magic sprinkled from her wings. “I have yet to come across a male who can tame me.”

  Asherah was not so sure about that, but she chose not to speak on it. “You are speaking differently now.”

  “You don’t understand human English yet, and I want you to be comfortable.”

  “Then act as you are. I want to know my sister now, not the memories I have.”

  “Cool. Let’s post a pic on SpellBook then. #BitchingSisters.”

  “What?”

  “I’m sort of like the most viral person in Encantado.”

  “Viral? SpellBook? What’s a hashtag?”

  “See? That’s why I wasn’t talking like that.”

  Asherah shook her head. She did not doubt it would take time for her to truly get the human world, if at all, but she would try. “I sort of like that word.”

  “Which one?”

  “SpellBook.”

  Silva squealed. “That’s because you rock. You know a good thing when you see one. I’m going to get you your own page and make sure you get, like, a bajillion followers. Everyone is going to love you and be so jealous.”

  Watching Silva set her up with something called an email address, SpellBook, and a RapidGram account was beautiful. Silva was a much different person. Still excitable, but Asherah did not miss how attentive she was either.

  She was the first to react when a knock sounded at the door, pushing Asherah behind her. “Come in.”

  A woman wearing some sort of black and white dress came in. She bowed to Silva before speaking. “The rooms are ready.”

  “Awesome. You decked them out, right? Like, penthouse style?”

  “As you requested.”

  “Good job. Show the men where they’ll be. I’ll take my sister down myself.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Asherah recognized a servant when she saw one, and it seemed somethings did not change. “You are still treated special here.”

  “Nah. It’s really for Kalinda; I just reap the benefits. I have a job and everything.”

  “A job?”

  “Shit, one I have to get to, like, now. I’ll come by and see you later, okay? I’m going to show you to your room and you can chill until I get back. I may be staying here more often now that you’re in the house. It’s usually pretty stuffy without Kalinda.”

  “And the wolves? I think Heath called them the Renegades.”

  “They’ve been set up too. We’ve got, like, bachelor pad central here, so the women are going to have to stick together and keep shit going. Don’t want it being filled with too many dicks and not enough chicks. Come on.”

  Maybe she should not have told her sister to speak as she had been. Asherah swore she only understood about half of what Silva was talking about, and even then, she was confused. But one thing she did know, she was on her way to her Fate, and he would make it all better.

  #BitchingSisters. What does that even mean?

  The accommodations were beautiful.

  She was surrounded by luxury even as a princess she would have enjoyed. But Asherah did not feel much like a princess anymore. No, she seemed more like an imposter wearing clothes she still did not understand, surrounded by a world she did not belong to. The only constant was Heath, standing in the center of the red and golden decorations in the room.

  He was steadfast, her constant in the maelstrom. She was free of Skuld, was alive, and she’d found Silva. Their safety was marginal, she knew it. Silva and Kalinda had done what they could, saving Heath from immediate death by the hands of Torin, a man Asherah sensed deep magic coursing through.

  But how long would they be safe?

  Skuld would not stop, and Asherah could not shake the feeling she was already working to break them.

  Heath shrugged out of his armor, and it melded into black pants and a white shirt. She liked the look on him, but she wished he’d release the glamour coloring his hair. As nice as she found it, she still wanted to see her Heath.

  He turned to her, as if hearing her thoughts. “It’s better than I thought. At least here we won’t have the shifters breathing down our necks and trying to kill me.”

  “Are we really safe?”

  Heath sighed. “As safe as we could be. Staying with Kalinda will afford us some protection, and maybe I can right my wrong one day.” He snorted. “Or they’ll kill me first. One or the other.”

  “Then we had better enjoy it while we can. I’ve lived a hundred and twenty-five years in captivity. I do not want to be trapped anymore.”

  “We don’t have to be.”

  His warm hand caressed her cheek, and she leaned into his palm. Just his touch set her on fire.

  “If you want, we can run. We don’t have to stay.”

  The fact he would even give her an option meant the world to her. He would leave, sacrifice his chance at finally being among his people. She knew, from his memories, there was a male here, Lorenzo, who meant a great deal.

  They also knew what the stakes were if they left. Still, he did not flinch.

  Asherah lifted her chin. “I will stay with you and fight, for however long it takes.”

  “I never thought I’d have a chance to have you. That I’d ever feel this way.”

  “And what way is that, Heath?”

  “Let me show you.”

  He grasped her arm with rough hands and wrenched her against him. When she opened her mouth on a gasp, he covered her lips with his. Everything in her sang. She could taste him, feel the heat of his body under her hands.

  He walked them both to the bed, grabbing her hands and pinning them to her back.

  “I love you,” he whispered against her mouth. “Fuck me, but I can’t get enough of you.”

  He kissed her again, stopping her response, and her body went pliant in his arms. She moaned, and he released her hands. The weight of his body inflamed her as he lifted her into his arms, and she wound her arms around his neck.

  They fell onto the bed together. He was frantic to have her, pulling her clothes from her body. He ripped his shirt from his chest, kicked his boots off his feet, and tore off his pants. In minutes they were skin to skin, desire washing over her as his tongue laved the inside of her mouth.

  Her teeth, sharp daggers of pleas
ure, scored her tongue, and he bit at her lips. Asherah twisted and turned beneath him until he rested between her legs. He lifted one of her knees, opening her wider to him. One hand braced to the bed, he rose off her slowly.

  “Put me in,” he urged her.

  Her hands gripped the heated skin of his cock, dancing over the flesh with featherlight strokes. She loved the feel of him, the power he commanded. Heath bit his lip as she stroked him.

  She did not want to rush to put him inside her. Instead, she pumped his cock from root to tip as she scooted down on the bed. There was no flavor like her Fate, and she wanted to taste him again.

  Asherah used her tongue to glide over the crown of his cock, and Heath exhaled roughly. He bunched the bedspread with tight fingers, forcing his palms to take his weight.

  When he looked at her, she captured his gaze with hers, and knowing he watched her take him in and out of her mouth layered a new level on this action.

  “Gods!” he cried, sinking to his knees on the bed.

  Hollowing her cheeks to pull on him tighter, she placed a hand on his thigh and used it to help her lift up slightly. She engulfed his cock nearly to the base, and he moaned. Over and over, her head bobbed, and he hissed his pleasure.

  He stretched her jaw, hitting the back of her throat.

  “Fuck, just like that, baby. Deeper. Harder.”

  Asherah did as he commanded. The edges of her teeth lightly grazed him and she used her sharp fangs as a counterpoint. Her hand left his thigh to palm his balls and roll them in her fingers. She wanted him to lose his mind, to go wild as she had before. She pulled his heavy sac from his body and swallowed his cock again.

  “Yes!” he urged, pumping faster.

  She wrapped her fingers around the base of his cock and sucked hard on the head. Heath’s body trembled, and she kept going. There was nothing she wanted more than to taste him as he found his release down her throat. To have him give into his desires and take her viciously. She wanted this, wanted to gift him for sharing his love.

  For choosing her.

  Heath roared above her, his hips jerking helplessly. Asherah swallowed everything he gave, craving the salty muskiness even more with each swallow. When he was spent, he gripped her under her arms and yanked her up the bed until she was on her side, her ass against his stiff cock, and she leaned her head back on his shoulder.