by Mina Carter
And then he felt it. The faintest, faintest whisper of Dante's presence. He lunged for it, desperate for his mentor's aid. But Dante's presence seemed to slither out of his grasp, an illusion that didn't really exist. Dante! But it was no use. There was nothing to hold on to. It wasn't Dante. It was the memory of his existence, nothing but a sliver of time long gone—
Then the white light inside Catherine began to glow brighter. Each white tendril grew thicker and brighter, as if life was returning to her soul. The web of life seemed to wrap around him, binding him in its threads, protecting him as the evil beat at him, trying to take him. But she kept wrapping more and more of her protection around him, thickening the shield around his soul, giving him room to take a breath, to regroup, to find strength.
The monster raged on the outsides of her protections, trying to complete its possession of him, but it was too late. Catherine had given him the space he needed. With a roar of triumph, Ryland shoved the beast back into its cage, tearing himself free of its grasp. With a last scream of frustration, it retreated, locked once again behind his steel will.
Exhausted, he collapsed against her, his body shaking violently with the aftermath. He drew her into his body, needing to feel the softness of her flesh against his, desperate to find solace in her touch. In her kindness. In her world, where things were different.
He needed her desperately.
"It's okay, Ryland," she whispered as she wrapped her arms around him. "You did it."
He still couldn't speak, his throat raw, his mouth burned. His skin stung from the scales, and his fingers bled where the claws had receded. He pulled her closer, and his whole body shuddered in relief as she tucked herself against him. He pressed his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling the scent he'd begun to associate with her: the fresh scent of new spring, of flowers coming to life in the sunshine, of morning dew on the grass. He drank it into his soul, allowing it to flow through him, even as the thousands of tears in his muscles bled the poison that had nearly taken him.
Catherine laid her hand on his back, over the very place where the wings had ripped through his flesh and muscles. Agonizing pain ricocheted through him as she caressed the mutilated skin, but she didn't lift her hand. She sent him no golden healing light, but the mere act of her gentle touch was unlike anything he'd ever felt. It was soft and nourishing. It was that kindness thing she'd mentioned before.
He didn't understand how a simple touch could make a difference, but it did. It wasn't magic or healing or anything, just an ordinary touch, and yet it was so much more. It seemed to ease the pain, and his back shuddered in relief as the tension began to ease from his shredded muscles. He wanted to tell her that it felt good. He wanted to thank her. But his throat was still burning, seared by the fire that had arisen within him. He reached out with his mind, trying to connect with her. Thank you, Cat.
She didn't respond, and he knew she hadn't heard him. Frustration roared through him. Why could Thano communicate telepathically with her, but not him? It wasn't really possible that she was Thano's sheva, was it? Anger flared inside him, and the beast stirred again, this time, not to save another, but in its true nature, to destroy.
"Hey, Ryland," she said softly as she stroked his back, below the gashes from the wings. "Don't get upset again. You need to be calm."
He buried his face in her shoulder again, surrendering himself to the sensation of her body against his. What was wrong with him? He'd been fine with it when Alice and Sarah had bonded with Ian and Kane. Well, fine with it once he'd realized they weren't going to hurt the angels. It was different with Catherine.
There was no chance in hell he could stand back while she bonded with Thano.
But Thano had heard her thoughts. He had heard her thoughts.
"Ryland." She caught his face and lifted his head from her shoulder, forcing him to look at her. Her face was black with mud, and she was still bleeding. Instantly, he forgot about his anger over Thano and swore as he laid his hand over her wounds. "Catherine," he rasped out, wincing as her name ripped his throat.
"No, don't talk." She pressed her finger to his lips. "Just listen to me, okay?"
Her touch was so gentle that he wanted to cradle her hand in his, and protect her from everything, especially himself. He covered her palm with his, and pressed his lips to her fingertips.
She smiled faintly. "Listen to me, okay? Are you listening?"
"Yeah," he rasped.
"I don't know why Thano heard my thoughts, but I am not his soul mate."
He shook his head. "You don't know—"
"I know." She traced her fingers over his forehead, easing the wrinkles from his skin. "I am very good at keeping my distance from men nowadays. I trust no one. Ever." She looked at him then, her blue eyes so genuine and intense as they focused on him. "But you're different. There is something about you that I hear. Something about you that I see. Something about you that touches me. Only you, Ryland. Thano is just a man. You—" She paused. "You burn in my soul, Ryland."
He stared at her, stunned by her words. "What does that mean?" he croaked out.
"I don't know," she said. "It terrifies me, and it endangers me. But at the same time, I—" She hesitated, but her hands were busy, tracing his hairline, stroking his shoulders, touching his jaw, as if she couldn't get enough contact with him. "I've never been able to bring anyone into my spirit like I did with you. I don't know how I did it, but I did. It's only you, Ryland. Whatever it is between us, it's only you. It's not Thano." She gave him a small smile. "So stop being a stupid, jealous male, or you're going to get us all killed."
Ryland grinned, relief cascading through him. "I'm not jealous." His throat hurt like hell, but he wanted to talk to her, and he forced the words out.
"No?"
"No." He leaned his forehead against hers, needing the moment of intimacy. "I just protect my angel."
"That's it? The angel thing? It has nothing to do with how charming and adorable I am as a woman?" Her voice was teasing, but he sensed the honesty of her question, her need to be more to him than an angel.
But what could he tell her? Only the truth. He was no more than he was. He closed his eyes and pressed a kiss to her lips. "I'm not the kind of man who even understands charming and adorable," he said. "I know death. I know protection. I know survival. That's all I know, Catherine. I'm not more than that."
She was quiet for a moment. "You know kindness now," she said softly. "It's a start."
"It's not a start, Cat. There's nowhere for me to go with shit like that." He needed her to understand what he was like. He wouldn't deceive her, or make her think he was some fantastical knight riding to a maiden's rescue. She needed to understand.
"Okay." She wrapped her arms around him, and he rested his head against her shoulder again. He was so drained from fighting the beast. All he wanted was to lie on the damned ground and hold her. "That's a good thing," she whispered. "If you became nice, I would want to like you, and I can't afford that."
He laughed softly. "No one likes me, Cat."
"Lucky man."
"I know." But as he said the words, a strange sense of isolation came over him. A recognition that he had been on the outside his whole life, and that was where he would stay.
"Hey, man," Thano said softly.
Ryland pried his eyes open, not lifting his face from the crevice of Catherine's shoulder. Thano was on the ground beside them, face level with Ryland's. When he saw Ryland look at him, his face broke into a wide grin. "That was some serious shit, Ry."
"Yeah." Ryland couldn't believe Thano had ventured so close to him after what he'd just turned into. Zach was standing back about ten yards, and his weapons were still out. "You're a damn fool. You should have killed me."
"Nah, I had faith." Thano's green eyes were troubled. "What's your deal, Ry?"
He shook his head as he reached for Catherine's hair. He needed to touch her more, to be grounded by her. "Long story, my friend."
"We don't have time for a long story."
"No. We don't."
Thano nodded, accepting the distance Ryland worked so hard to maintain between them. "You gotta heal, Ry. We'll stand guard."
Ryland realized that Thano was referencing the healing sleep of the Calydons. "We don't have time for that—"
"We don't have time not to," Thano said. "Take an hour. It'll be enough to take the edge off."
"No, I'm fine." Ryland tried to move Catherine aside so he could sit up, but his muscles screamed in agony, and he swore, collapsing back against the ground. "Shit."
"Naptime, big guy." Thano glanced at Catherine. "Take her into your healing sleep. She needs help, too."
Ryland swore. "A Calydon can heal only his mate."
Thano raised his eyebrows. "She saved you with her spirit. Seems to me that would be enough of a connection to heal her." His eyes narrowed. "You owe her, Ry. She crossed the border to bring you back from a killing rage. Fix her up. We'll stand guard." Without waiting for Ryland's response, Thano whistled for his mount.
Apollo trotted over and went down to his knees beside Thano. The warrior grabbed the horse's thick mane and swung himself onto the animal's back. He pointed at Ryland as Apollo leapt gracefully to his feet. "One hour, my friend. That's all you've got."
Then he called out his halberds again and spun the horse away, galloping up the top of an embankment so he could survey their surroundings. Ryland looked at Zach, who was still fisting his sai. "Next time, kill me."
Zach narrowed his eyes. "Don't worry. When it's time to kill you, I'll do it. But not before I have to. You're a crazy bastard, but you're damn good at what you do, and we're keeping you alive as long as we can. Sleep. We don't have time for this shit." Then he, too, turned away, heading over to guard the borderline that separated them from hell.
His departure left Ryland alone with the woman who had saved him. The woman he owed his humanity to. The woman who was still bleeding from a thousand cuts to her body, suffered because he'd been too much of a bastard to keep himself under control.
He looked down at her, where she was still tucked beneath him on the ground. She smiled faintly, but he could sense her pain. He knew Thano was right. He had to help her. But hell, inviting her into his healing sleep was an invasion of his space, an opening of himself to her. He didn't do that kind of shit.
"Fifty-nine minutes," Thano yelled. "You look like shit, old man, and we can't afford that if you want to get out of there alive with Dante."
With Dante.
Right.
He had no choice. For Dante, for the Order, he would do it. He needed to be in top shape, and so did Catherine. "Okay," he said, keeping his voice business-like and hard. "I can heal myself in my sleep. Calydons can heal other Calydons, and their own soul mates, but that's it, because it takes an interconnection of the souls to make it happen."
She raised her brows. "It seems that being a sheva has a lot of helpful benefits."
Ryland shook his head. "If a Calydon and his mate complete all five of the bonding stages, he'll go insane and destroy everything that matters to him and any innocents who get in the way. The only way to stop him will be for her to kill him. Then she'll kill herself. It's the Calydon destiny."
Catherine blinked. "Well, that's not so helpful."
"Yeah, no shit." He grimaced. "And we both know I'm not cheerful enough to skip the deranged killer aspect of the bonding destiny."
She glanced down at his chest. "How are you?"
Ryland didn't open his jacket, not wanting the others to see. "That little episode had nothing to do with being close to the nether-realm. I called it on purpose."
She met his gaze, so much knowledge in her blue eyes. "You did it to save me—No," she corrected herself. "You did it to save Dante."
An image of Catherine disappearing into the muck flashed through his mind, and Ryland tightened his grip on her. The moment he'd summoned his power, he hadn't been thinking of Dante. It had been all about the woman. Not the angel. It had been about her.
Jesus. The idea made a cold sweat break out on his body and he rolled off her, needing to put distance between them.
Catherine sat up. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." He pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead, fighting off memories of her in the muck, of her slipping out of sight. "Nothing. I'm fine." He turned toward her. "Okay, so I can't bring you into my sleep because you're not my mate, apparently." Which was a good fucking thing right now. "But you brought me into your spirit. So, you're going to do that again, and once we're connected, I'm going to go into the healing sleep. You need to keep us connected and come with me, and then my healing will help you. Got it?"
She nodded. "Okay."
"Okay. Just like that. Okay." He touched her face. "Doesn't anything rattle you, angel?"
"You," she whispered.
He laughed softly, without mirth. "Yeah, well, touché on that one." He stretched out on his back and clasped his hands behind his head. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, but he didn't dare. He was still freaked by the realization that he'd called his beast to save her. "Let's do this."
"Right." She stretched out on her side facing him.
For a brief moment, their eyes met, and he felt something tighten in his chest. Then he shook it off and closed his eyes. "Connect us," he said.
"Okay." She clasped his arm, tugged his wrist from behind his head, and pulled it toward her.
Ryland's pulse began to race in anticipation as Catherine set his hand on her chest. He could feel each beat of her heart beneath his palm, the steady intake of her breath, the softness of her body beneath his touch. She was all woman, a sensual siren calling to him like no woman ever had. No wonder he hadn't been able to handle it when Thano had heard her thoughts. What man could?
Then she set her hand on his chest, sliding it beneath his shirt so her palm was resting on his bare skin. "It will be easier if I have skin-to-skin contact," she said, as if she had to explain why she'd touched him more intimately. "Closer connection."
Without a word, he hooked his thumb over the collar of her muddy shirt and moved it aside so he was palming her bare skin. With his eyes closed, all of his senses were attuned to his sense of touch. Her skin was warm and incredibly soft. Fragile, as if a stiff wind would tear it apart. "Like this?"
"Yes." She snuggled closer to him, so she was pressed against his side. One of her breasts was against his ribs, a mound of temptation that called to him with a force he'd never experienced.
He fought against the desire building in him and quieted his mind, focusing on Catherine, forcing himself not to fight her invasion as she opened herself to him and invited his spirit to mingle with hers.
Unlike before, when it had been a desperate battle to save him, this time the connection was intimate and erotic, as her femininity called to him, seducing him with its warmth and beauty. He wanted to resist it. He wanted to claim his space and retreat into the world he knew, but he didn't. He owed her this much. He had to allow her in so he could heal her.
Her spirit wrapped around his, a tender embrace that reminded him of what it had felt like when she had touched him in comfort. It was beautiful and seductive, an allure that he didn't dare respond to. It was so foreign to him, all this gentleness and softness that was wrapping around him—
A shadow drifted across their connection, a cold mist of darkness and death. He recognized it instantly, and he realized it was coming from Catherine. Death was as much a part of her as the light and beauty. Protectiveness arose instinctively, and he reached out with his spirit, trying to enfold her in his protection, to keep the darkness away from her light. The moment he did, he felt something hum between them, a bond that sizzled and ignited. Suddenly, there were no barriers between them. He could feel every fissure of death that had split her soul, as well as the humanity struggling to survive in the miasma of doom and darkness. He was stunned by how much darkness she carried, by the depths of scarring on her bein
g, by the weight of so many deaths on her existence.
He could feel the labored pain with each breath she took, and he sensed the depth of her physical suffering from all the bites she'd received in the mud. He knew what kind of damage the mites could cause, their poison going deep into the tissue as it ate away at the flesh. Fierce resolution poured through him, and he gathered her against him. I will heal you, he promised, offering the thought not through his mind, but through his feelings, through his soul, where they were connected.
You're so handy, came the reply, making him laugh softly. Damn, it felt good to feel her presence within him, to be so connected.
Tucking her more tightly against him and wrapping his spirit around hers, Ryland opened himself to the healing sleep of his kind. As it began to take him, he felt Catherine tighten the bond holding them together, and then he was asleep, and she was with him.
* * *
"Catherine."
She awoke to the sound of Ryland's voice by her ear, his warm breath caressing the side of her neck, sending goose bumps down her spine. Her body was warm, nestled against his powerful one. She didn't want to wake up. She wanted to snuggle down against him into the safety net he gave her— "Oh my God!" She bolted upright so fast, her head almost hit him on the chin, but he jerked back just in time. "I fell asleep!" She frantically looked around, but Thano, Zach, and Ryland were all there, completely alive and fine.
She hadn't killed them in her sleep. How was that possible? She'd been so depleted, there was no way that she wouldn't have needed to feed...but there they were. Just as alive as they'd been when she went to sleep.
"Hey, you okay?" Ryland touched her arm, and she looked over at him. His eyes were back to their usual pits of black doom, and his skin was no longer covered in black slashes.
"I didn't try to kill you when I slept? Any of you?" She had to make sure.
