by Caris Roane
He handed the phone back to Olivia, then turned, crossing to the sliding doors. His meal forgotten, he went out onto the deck.
His wife was alive and living in the U.S., in a small town in Maine where she was clearly making a good livelihood as an artist.
His wife was alive.
Olivia joined him, but gave him a few feet of space, waiting. Smart of her.
He turned to her, hands drawn into fists. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I just did and if you’re going to say I should have told you from the beginning, you have to remember, I was busy saving your ass. Given the circumstances of the past two nights, I didn’t think it was in any way a priority. But it is now, so you can take your belligerence and shove it.”
Her challenging attitude gave him pause and for some reason calmed him down. He took a deep breath, turning to scowl out at the forest. He couldn’t seem to process what Olivia had just told him. Sweet Goddess, his wife was alive and well in Maine.
Regan’s earlier cryptic words now made sense, which meant if he’d doubted Olivia, Regan had just backed up her story.
He shook his head. “So, given the evidence, she must have faked her death.”
“Looks like it.”
He glared at Olivia. “You’re sure cold about this.”
She shrugged. “Your wife was an unhappy artist and she left you the only way she knew how. I know your temperament, Zane. You wouldn’t have let her go without a fight, a very public, humiliating spectacle.”
“Well, fuck you.”
She didn’t seem to mind. “You can’t offend me with these words.”
“Well, how about with these; get the hell out of my life. You don’t belong here. You never did, you never will.”
He saw the quick hurt in her eyes and regretted what he said immediately. But he was too distressed to take his words back.
“No problem,” she said.
She turned and headed back into the house, leaving by way of the front door. And he didn’t stop her. He couldn’t. He was sliced to the core with this news about Emily. He’d been such a brute to his sensitive wife that apparently the only way she saw out of their marriage was to fake her death. Maybe he hadn’t been happily married either, but he’d never quite seen himself in this light before.
In the distance, he heard the front door shut.
His shoulders sagged.
Olivia.
Sweet Goddess, what had he just done?
Why the hell had he said that to her? For a woman who had never belonged anywhere until the past couple of nights, he couldn’t have said crueler words.
He needed to go after her and apologize.
And he would, but not yet. First, he had to process what he’d just learned, then figure out what to do about his wife?
After a few minutes, however, he realized that he’d never truly believed Emily was dead. On some realm level, he must have known she was still alive, yet he never allowed himself to consider the possibility. Of course, to do so would mean he’d have to own up to his temper, his obstinacy, and to the fact he’d chosen the wrong woman to wed.
All his frustration over his marriage rose to the surface once more. Only this time he made a conscious decision to let it all go. Having spent a few nights with Olivia had helped him to understand that Emily had simply not been the right woman for him. And he’d definitely been the wrong man for her.
In fact, what truly bothered him was that his wife had believed it necessary to stage her own death in order to escape him. Regan had been right when she’d challenged him about Emily needing her freedom. To her sensitive nature, he must have seemed like a wild boar always jabbing at her with his tusks.
He owed the woman an apology, a very big one.
How many times had she asked him for a divorce, but he would never agree to it. She’d taken matters into her own hands and had forsaken her life, her world, in order to find some peace in the U.S. How much her marriage to him had cost her.
Somehow, he’d find a way to make it up to her.
Sweet Goddess, Emily was alive. He knew it would take some time to truly process what this meant, but for the moment he was grateful Olivia had been the one to tell him. Her presence in his life made it easier than it might have been otherwise. Olivia was strong, forthright, very physical, and a good match for him. She had no problem challenging him and she made him laugh. And maybe it was the contrast between the two women that helped him to move forward.
Olivia.
A strange sensation, like a stream flowing over a waterfall, ran through him: Awareness, perfect understanding, a sense of time and space coming together seamlessly. Love.
He loved Olivia.
He loved her passionately.
She’d become the moon and stars to him, the booming thunderstorm in summer, the wind blowing hard off the ocean over his rocky barren land. She was a battle Zephyr, a shifter, a woman of independence and ready for anything.
And he loved her.
He’d also cast a cutting barb at her and she’d left.
His chest felt crushed once more. What if she never forgave him?
~
In her wolf form, Olivia headed back to Barker’s Bend, but not to her house. Instead, she bounded and raced to her farm just a few miles south.
She hadn’t left the cottage because of Zane’s absurd words, but because she’d become acutely aware in that moment just how much she’d grown attached to the Mastyr of Swanicott. Watching him devastated by the fact that his wife had faked her own death rather than fight Zane for a divorce, had made her own heart ache as it never had before.
That’s when she’d understood the truth about her involvement with Zane.
She loved him.
She loved serving him as his blood rose, and she really loved sharing his bed.
With every particle of her half-human, half-wolf form, she loved him.
But how could he ever feel the same way about her?
Within a few minutes of running and bounding, she reached her small farmhouse, refitted to serve her laborers when they needed their meals or a bathroom break. Given that night had fallen, all her workers had gone home, most of them either trolls or shifters who could bear the sunlight of day-work.
She went inside and took her time brewing a fresh pot of coffee. Though most shifters lived out their lives during the day, she’d been on Zane’s schedule from the time she’d first ghosted him.
Now she was here, waiting for the hot water to drip through the fine grounds and release its treasure.
Part of her regretted leaving, but she’d needed some space, and she was sure Zane had needed the same.
His words had simply given her an excuse to take off.
When she had her mug in hand, she began to walk her now quiet property, the full moon an excellent source of light. She could see the improvements and changes her laborers had accomplished over the past three days; fields had been plowed, organic mulch worked into the soil, and extensive beds laid out in preparation of sowing some winter crops.
She also had several greenhouses she used during the cold months, in which she grew the vegetables the Helms Watch restaurants would require. Once the land warmed up, she’d switch to growing most everything outdoors.
The gro-lights were on inside. Electricity was a good thing, and the space was kept warm enough to encourage the plants to thrive, but cool enough to keep her energy bills down. The air was fragrant with herbs and sweet with oxygen the plants emitted.
She sipped her coffee, her heart thudding dully in her chest. Oh, shit. She’d been building a new supply for her man and now she was here. She should have fed Zane before she brought up the painful news about Emily.
But as she looked around at the plants, she suddenly felt terribly alone. It wasn’t so long ago that she’d been used to this kind of isolation; she’d lived her entire life before moving to Swanicott without close friends or even community involvement. Yet, oh, how much had changed over the
past few nights.
She realized what bothered her the most about having left Zane was that she no longer wanted to live her life as an outcast, not on any level. She was part of more than one community now – as Zane’s blood rose and as a shifter who could create a Zephyr wind during battle. She needed and wanted to pull her weight, not hold back or keep her distance.
Mostly, however, she belonged to Zane. He was her man. He needed her, and the shifter in her knew she needed to stick close to him right now, despite his anger or her reserve.
Finishing her coffee, she ran back to the house. But even as she reached the kitchen, she could feel something was wrong. After unplugging the coffee maker, she headed back outside, preparing to bound high into the air.
Just as she was about to shift, however, Regan’s voice entered her mind. Olivia, we’re under attack. We need your help. Now.
Before she could respond, however, the communication went dead. Olivia tried to reach Regan several times after that, but couldn’t raise the smallest response.
Her shifter bones told her something terrible had happened at the Fae Guild.
Olivia had never moved so fast in her life, becoming wolf before she’d even thought-the-thought.
She bounded into the air, higher than ever before.
She had to get back to the Fae Guild and to Zane.
~
Zane was pissed at himself for getting caught off guard like this. The entire Fae Guild was under heavy attack by Margetta and a fresh army of Invictus wraith-pairs. He heard screams all over the retreat grounds. Invictus swarmed around his cottage, so that he couldn’t leave and begin battling the bastards. The moment he opened a door, a dozen Invictus pairs would be on him and he’d be dead and no use to anyone.
Had Margetta known he and Olivia had spent the day here?
He prepared his battle vibration, ready to strike down any who entered.
He’d already contacted Chase, Sawyer and Luther. Each had troops on the way. He also pathed Ian, but asked him to stay in the north to field any Invictus attacks in that area of the realm. Ian responded in the affirmative, saying he’d contact Marian to let her know she could reach him at any time.
But what he needed right now was Olivia’s protective cloak if he had any chance of saving the resident fae.
He thought of Regan and felt sick at heart. His instincts told him Margetta had come back for retribution and nothing less.
Regan would have been her target.
And Zane couldn’t get to her.
Olivia, he shouted into the telepathic void.
He didn’t expect to get anything in response, not after what he’d said to her. Sweet Goddess, he was still kicking himself for being such an asshole.
But her voice pierced his head anyway. I’m thirty-seconds out and I’m ghosting you. I can see that you’re still in the cottage, I can hear the screams coming from the Guild property, and you’ve got the enemy at your door. Now tell me what happened.
He gave her a quick rundown that without warning Margetta had brought at least fifty wraith-pairs into the retreat. She somehow broke Regan’s spell, but I can’t locate the Ruby Fae telepathically. She’s not responding.
Okay. We’ll figure this out. I’ll bound onto the deck where I left you. I’m cloaked. Only five seconds out. Oh, shit, you’ve got Invictus pairs back there, at least three, maybe more. But I’m gliding in anyway. I can sneak through. And now I’m on the deck.
Zane watched the back door glide open and the next moment, Olivia had her arms around his neck holding him fast. At the same time she spread her cloak to encompass him.
Two Invictus pairs entered the cottage right after her, probably thinking Zane had opened the door.
He gripped her hard, his throat painfully tight, pulling her off to the side, away from the Invictus. I’m hoping they’ll leave this space, then we can slip by them.
Got it, she said.
Both wraith-pairs, believing the living room was empty, raced into the hall that led to the bedroom. Zane quickly led Olivia back to the deck. She hopped onto his boot and he went straight up into the air, moving west toward the Fae Guild complex.
My Guard will be here in the next few minutes. I told them to fly in from the north and to let me know when they’ve arrived. But right now, we’ve got some vulnerable fae to rescue.
Then we’d better get on it.
Damn, the woman was game and not a single recrimination.
He veered back to the Guild’s formal garden and found several wraiths already feeding on captured women.
Zane, if we get close enough to those fae trying to hide, I can cloak them. We could carry them out of here that way.
It’ll do.
He dropped next to a woman crouching behind a hedge and spoke quietly to her, warning her he was cloaked. We’ll get you to safety.
She was wide-eyed with panic but nodded, even though she couldn’t see him or Olivia.
Olivia then extended her cloak and the moment she did, the woman leaped into Zane’s arms.
He immediately rose into the air and flew swiftly back to the forest. He told her the Guard was coming as well as the shifter brigade, and to hide until she saw forces she trusted.
As soon as the woman was safe within a cluster of large rhododendron shrubs, he flew back to the compound.
He saw two women racing from one cottage to the next. He sped toward them and repeated the same process. Once Olivia had the fae cloaked, she was strong enough to hold one woman against her while he grabbed the other.
He carried them back into the forest, then dropped them to take cover, as he’d done before.
He repeated the process, again and again, as fast as he could. Olivia frequently directed him, her gaze searching constantly for signs of women in hiding.
He pathed to Chase, letting him know what he was doing. I need a quarter of your men to protect the women I’ve left in the forest. Alert them to your presence, then get them the hell out of there and away from the Guild. I want the bulk of the Guard that’s with you to surround the central part of the compound. There are at least fifty wraith-pairs attacking and feeding in the central area. They’re also searching through all the rooms. How far out are you?
Half-a-minute. We’re flying fast.
Good. Let me know when you’ve arrived. Olivia and I are carrying as many into the woods as we can.
Zane took a moment to fly over the forest in search of wraith-pairs who might be chasing after fae that had escaped into the forest on their own. He found two fae women barely forty yards away from a shrieking wraith and her bonded troll mate.
He landed a few feet in front of the women and again, Olivia uncloaked them just long enough to alert the women.
“Come to me,” he shouted, holding out his arms.
The panicked women took a split-second to assess then raced toward him.
He caught one and Olivia caught the other. As Olivia’s cloak descended, he pulled the group a few yards to the right. The wraith shrieked her frustration as she plowed forward along the path well away from Zane’s position.
He gathered one trembling, weeping woman into the circle of his free arm, Olivia took the other and he carried them north.
Chase let him know his force had arrived and that part of his men had already started gathering up the refugees.
By then, Zane saw Luther bounding toward him in wolf form, and he started to breathe a sigh of relief.
He pathed to Luther. I can see you, but Olivia has me cloaked. Go to the central compound; the Invictus are feeding. Chase will be there by the time you arrive.
I’m on it, Luther responded.
For the first time since the attack began, Zane took a real breath. Sweet Goddess, what a nightmare.
Zane found Chase’s force. The nearest Guardsman’s eyes glinted with battle readiness and Zane feared a hand-blast in his direction if without warning Olivia unshielded them both.
He therefore alerted the squad leader telepathically
before revealing himself. The Guardsman, wary, responded, Mastyr, I’m ready. Go ahead and uncloak.
Zane had Olivia release her shielding frequency and the next moment the Guardsman drew close in a protective stance, his gaze searching the horizon. Two more Guardsmen drew near as well and set up a perimeter around the women.
He was about ready to take off once more with Olivia settled on his boot, when one of the fae grabbed hold of his arm. “Margetta took her, Mastyr.”
“What do you mean? Took who?”
“Mistress Regan. I serve in her household. Margetta showed up well before the attack started, and a strange mist came out of her. Regan lost consciousness and Margetta picked her up in her arms. I passed out soon after but not before I saw the Ancient Fae take Regan into the air.” She pointed a shaking arm into the sky.
“Which direction? North? South?”
“Southwest. I’m sure of it.”
Zane glanced at Olivia, whose eyes were wild. Her voice entered his head. Regan pathed to me earlier, calling for help just as I was heading back here. But the communication broke off.
Zane knew then that the worst had happened. Margetta, in her need for revenge, had returned to Swanicott and kidnapped Regan. Maybe she’d even killed her.
To Olivia, Zane said, “Will you fly with me? See if we can find Regan’s trail?”
“Of course.”
With her firmly clasped to his side, he rose quickly above the trees, then flew at top speed in a southwesterly direction. He zig-zagged a path over a mile in width, hunting for Regan’s or Margetta’s trail. He hoped beyond hope that in the same way Margetta could track Olivia, either he or Olivia would be able to detect some residual sign of the women. Do you see a trail of lights, or a scent maybe? Anything?
Olivia held him tight around his shoulders. The land slipped away and they were now in flight over Maris Luna.
I’m not seeing or smelling anything, Zane. Nothing that would indicate we’re on Margetta’s trail. Or Regan’s. How about you?
No, nothing.
After another fifty miles and a lot of lateral zig-zagging, he finally slowed to a stop. He levitated a quarter mile above the ocean. We should head back. There’s nothing out there for hundreds of miles. And we’d eventually reach the Camberlaune Realm access point.
