Unchained by a Forbidden Love

by Heaton, Felicity

  She reached the dead male and slumped beside him, fighting to catch her breath.

  Fuery moved like a wraith in the darkness, toying with the poor male, making him turn this way and that, his sword cutting through the air in desperate strikes that hit nothing. His fear flowed over her, tainting the air together with the heavy odour of blood.

  Her mate stopped behind the male and grinned as he shoved his hand forwards, driving his claws deep into the male’s side, ripping a scream from him.

  She had to stop him before it was too late.

  She mustered her strength, lifted her hand and searched the young male she had killed for his set of steels. When she found them, she sank back against his legs. Her hand shook as she opened the leather wrapped around them and she grimaced as she lowered her other arm away from her chest, relieving the pressure on her wound.

  Her vision wobbled as she pulled out each steel and tried them, wriggling them in the lock, her frustration mounting as she failed to get any of them to work.

  A bellow sounded.

  Then silence.

  She stilled, her strength flowing from her as she fought for breath and battled the pain.

  Fuery grunted as his knees hit the ground beside the male he had just killed, breathing hard and fast, his chest heaving as he stared straight ahead, the flare of crimson around his eyes bright in the darkness.

  But it was fading.

  She wanted to cry as violet began to emerge again.

  The need to reach him had her finding her feet and he looked at her. Her beautiful warrior. Blood and dirt covered his face, and rips in his armour revealed deep lacerations that she could feel echoing on her body through their bond. He needed her.

  She staggered towards him.

  A wall of black appeared in front of her and she bumped into it.

  Slowly tilted her head back.

  “No,” she breathed.

  “It is time to come home.” Eirwyn grabbed her right wrist in a bruising grip. “It is time to end this foolish behaviour.”

  She tried to twist free of his hold, but he only tightened it and she cried out as pain seared her bones and they felt as if they might break.

  She called her dagger to her left hand and grunted as she swiped at him, cutting him across his right shoulder before he could block the blow.

  He glared down at her, his violet eyes brightening as his pointed ears flared back against his ponytail, and growled as he caught her wrist and twisted it. She cried out and dropped the dagger.

  He pressed forwards, into her, and snarled, “I can see I will have to keep you locked away until the day of the ceremony. You are the key to my future happiness after all… the key to gaining power and a position in the council that advises the prince’s elders.”

  Shaia spat in his face. “I am not an object you can use as you please!”

  He backhanded her and she dropped to the dirt, her ears ringing as pain swamped her and his grip on her right wrist growing tighter as he held her arm above her head.

  Fuery’s vicious growl cut through the sound.

  “Take your fucking hands off her.”

  Eirwyn slowly turned to look at him, a smile curving his lips. “Come and get her.”

  Her eyes widened as something hit her.

  He was trying to drive Fuery into the darkness, was going to play on his need as her mate to protect her and use it against him.

  If Fuery became truly lost, or better yet dead, then his claim on her would end and Eirwyn would be able to claim her. Prince Loren wouldn’t be able to condemn Eirwyn for taking her under his wing, giving her a shoulder to cry on and a place to call home.

  “Do not do it, Fuery.” She shook her head. “He is playing you. Go to Hartt and get help.”

  Fuery staggered onto his feet and bared his fangs at Eirwyn, and despair mingled with desperation swept through her. He wasn’t listening.

  Her heart bled for him as he swayed on his feet and she looked at him, her beautiful warrior all torn up and on the verge of collapse, his armour in ruins and blood covering him, but still refusing to give up.

  Still fighting for her.

  Eirwyn’s smile turned cold. “It was not difficult to lure you here. Honestly, I wonder why you were ever given the rank of commander. You clearly lack the necessary intelligence.”

  Fuery snarled at that. “Because I earned it… and was not given it… and you were the fool for setting a trap so far from help… one that easily became my trap for you.”

  Eirwyn’s face darkened. “No… all you did was spare me having to waste my coin to take back what is mine.”

  Fuery was gone when she blinked, appearing right in front of Eirwyn. Eirwyn teleported and landed behind Fuery, and her mate growled as a blast of telekinesis hit him in the back and sent him flying over her head. She squeaked and ducked, and flinched as he hit the wall on the other side of the fortress.

  She scrambled for her dagger, snatched it up and roared as she sprang to her feet, mustering all of her strength as she launched at Eirwyn. He backhanded her again, sending her down hard, and her grip on her dagger loosened. It spun away from her.

  Landing at Eirwyn’s feet.

  He looked down at it, casually bent and scooped it up. He weighed it in his palm and grinned as his gaze slid back to Fuery as her mate found his feet again.

  “Fitting you die by a blade you gave her… it was such a shame that you attacked her and she had to defend herself like that.” Eirwyn’s slow smile as he closed his fingers around the hilt of the dagger chilled her blood.

  “You dare.” She tried to get onto her feet, but her legs gave out and she grunted as she landed on her knees, her entire body trembling as pain burned across her chest.

  He slid her a black look that told her to be quiet and kicked off.

  Fuery was gone before he could reach him, disappeared in stilted black lines. The moment he reappeared near her, he went flying again, spinning through the air.

  Eirwyn chuckled where he stood with his hand outstretched, his palm facing her mate. “You really are predictable.”

  Her link to Fuery grew increasingly agitated, the darkness in it growing stronger as he picked himself up again, and she knew with chilling certainty that he was falling into it.

  Losing himself again.

  She couldn’t let it happen.

  She growled and found her feet, staggered across the courtyard of the fortress towards Eirwyn, and gritted her teeth as she held her right hand out towards him and pushed it forwards, hurling a blast of telekinesis at him.

  He barely rocked on his heels.

  She cursed in the elf tongue, the rattle of the chain between the manacles still attached to her other hand mocking her.

  Eirwyn appeared before her, gripped her by her throat and hauled her up to him. “You continue to resist me and I will have to punish you.”

  She raised her knee and landed a hard blow between his legs.

  He grunted and dropped her, doubled over and then growled as he lifted his head and fixed her with a black look.

  She didn’t have a chance to evade his blow.

  The dagger cut across her stomach.

  She looked down, dazedly watching the line of crimson that appeared in its wake just above her navel, and then shrieked as he hit her with a blast of telekinesis, sending her rocketing across the courtyard.

  Her back hit the wall of the well and the air burst from her lungs.

  She felt it the second the darkness consumed Fuery and he was lost to her.

  The link between them flooded with darkness, oily and smothering, and then it was gone.

  Leaving her empty.

  “No,” she wheezed, and tried to move but she didn’t have the strength as the shallow cut across her stomach burned fiercely.

  She refused to believe it was gone again. It was still there. She struggled to focus on it as Fuery roared and hurled himself at Eirwyn, his black sword clashing with the one the male had taken from the ground. He
was faster now, his eyes burning crimson as he teleported in bursts of jagged black smoke, but Eirwyn blocked him at every turn, faster still.

  Fuery.

  She growled as Eirwyn managed to land a blow, his sword piercing Fuery’s shoulder and tearing a grunt from his bloodied lips. Fuery gripped the blade and shoved forwards, knocking Eirwyn back, and attacked again.

  She tried to tear her eyes away from the battle so she could focus on restoring the connection between them, but it was impossible. She could only stare with her heart in her throat, a timid thing on the verge of breaking as Fuery fought with every last drop of his strength, taking blow after blow as he sought an opening. He whirled beneath Eirwyn’s sword to land on his knees and growled as he thrust forwards with his own blade.

  Her heart almost stopped, breath hitching as she watched, waiting for it to hit.

  Eirwyn swept his blade up in a swift arc, knocking it against Fuery’s, and her mate’s katana sailed through the air.

  Fuery growled and looked in the direction it had gone as it clattered across the stones.

  Eirwyn grinned and raised his sword.

  Shaia roared, willed her portal and moved the moment the dagger whipped into her hand, hurling it point over end at his back.

  It struck.

  Bounced hilt-first off his shoulders and dropped to the flagstones behind him.

  He slowly turned to look over his shoulder at her, his face a black mask of fury that promised pain.

  He brought his blade down, aimed at Fuery’s throat as her mate fought to stand.

  “Fuery!” She couldn’t watch.

  Fuery threw himself forwards, rolled and snatched the dagger as he came onto his feet behind Eirwyn, and roared as he plunged it deep into the male’s neck. Blood burst from beneath the guard, spraying everywhere. Eirwyn’s face froze in a look of disbelief and horror, and she couldn’t drag her eyes away from his as the light left them.

  When it had slowed to a trickle, Fuery released Eirwyn and watched him slump to the ground, no trace of emotion on his bloodstained face. He eased into a crouch, resting on his haunches, and prodded him, rocking him back and forth, as if checking whether he was going to spring back to life.

  It struck her that he wanted him to.

  Like a feline with its prey, he couldn’t understand that he had killed the male, was confused that the fight was suddenly over, and disappointed.

  Something else struck her as his face slowly set in a scowl and he began shoving Eirwyn’s body harder, as if that would bring his foe back to life, and then started to rain blows down on the dead male’s chest, ripping at it with his claws.

  His bloodlust wasn’t sated. It needed more.

  “Fuery,” she whispered, desperate to stop him and unable to watch him ripping into the body in such a savage, brutal way. “It’s over.”

  He stilled, tilted his head slightly towards her, his overlong wild blue-black hair concealing his face from her, and then rose fluidly onto his feet, twisting and coming to face her in one sweeping move.

  It wasn’t over.

  She could see it in his crimson eyes as they landed on her.

  She could feel it in her soul as he advanced on her and she witnessed the hunger in him.

  He wasn’t sated.

  He needed more and she was the only one left alive.

  The only one who could satisfy that hunger that ruled him.

  The need for blood and violence.

  A need for death.

  CHAPTER 28

  Shaia stood her ground on trembling legs as Fuery prowled towards her, his hunger beating in her blood together with a terrible weight of darkness that pressed down on her. She weathered that darkness, holding their fragile connection open as it began to form again, hoping her light would reach him and free him of its grip. Hope that felt as fragile as their bond to her, liable to shatter and fade at any moment, and take the last of her strength with it.

  “Fuery,” she whispered, keeping her voice soft and light, free of the fear that ran in her veins.

  He wouldn’t hurt her.

  He wouldn’t.

  His crimson eyes narrowed on her face, and then lowered to her throat.

  Her pulse ticked up, a staccato rhythm that sent a trickle of panic flowing through her and jacked her fear up another notch, until her legs felt like rubber beneath her.

  She reached a hand out to him, and he halted and growled at it, his expression turning wary as he eyed it, as if she was going to lash out at him.

  Only if he gave her no choice.

  “Listen to my voice, Fuery.” She swallowed her pounding heart and forced herself to remain where she was as his eyes snapped back up to her face and he snarled, flashing enormous fangs at her.

  She wasn’t going to be cowed by him.

  She was strong, and he had taught her to fight well. If he became a threat to her, she would fight him. Even with the shackle binding her left wrist, she had the strength to call her dagger to her hand.

  But gods, she didn’t want it to come to that.

  “It is me, Fuery… your Shaia. Your mate.”

  He paused again, his dirty face softened and he stared at her blankly, and she could see she was reaching him.

  The relief that went through her had her lowering her guard as her hope blazed brighter.

  Fuery was suddenly in front of her, his clawed fingers closing over her upper arms, pinning them to her sides, and his eyes on her throat.

  She struggled against him, adrenaline rushing through her as she tried to get her arms free. “Fuery, no!”

  Because he had thought he had killed her once, and it had torn him apart for centuries. If he killed her for real, it would destroy him, and the darkness would finally devour him before he could end himself, transforming him into a mindless monster who knew only an endless thirst for blood.

  She managed to get her hands between them and went to shove.

  Tremendous pain rolled through their link, stealing her breath and making her still as it battered her. Gods, he was hurting. He needed her.

  He opened his mouth to speak as his corrupted eyes sought hers.

  He went flying off her.

  Shaia blinked as he suddenly sailed through the air to land hard on the grey flagstones of the fortress courtyard and tumble across them, grunting as he slammed into the wall and dust rained down on him.

  “Fuck, Shaia… are you alright?” Hartt’s deep voice rolled over her from behind, a breathless note to it that spoke of exertion. “I got here as quickly as I could but tracking Fuery through his implant is difficult at the best of times.”

  She wasn’t sure what an implant was, but part of her was glad to hear his voice and feel his presence. Not because he had saved her from Fuery, but because he might be able to save Fuery.

  Before she could look at him, Fuery rushed past her in a blur and barrelled into him, his roar echoing around the broken walls of the fortress. Hartt grunted and she turned in time to see Fuery ploughing him into the low wall of the well.

  “Fuery!” She managed two steps towards him before he halted her in her tracks.

  He looked over his shoulder as he gripped Hartt by his throat, both hands closed tightly around it as he bent the male backwards over the well, in danger of sending him plummeting into it.

  Gods.

  The sheer rage, the raw fury in his eyes stopped her dead.

  It drummed in her blood too.

  Told her everything she needed to know.

  He thought Hartt was going to take her from him, he feared that he was going to lose his mate, and it was giving the darkness a firmer hold over him, allowing it to drag him down into the abyss.

  “Hartt, don’t—” She winced as Fuery flew off him, tumbled across the flagstones past her and rolled onto his feet.

  Her mate shook his head, his shoulder-length black hair a tangled mess as thick hanks of it fell down from the thong he had tied it with at the back of his head. He hunkered down and growled
as he bared his fangs at Hartt.

  “You’re making him worse,” she bit out and Hartt spared her a glance.

  She winced again as Fuery slammed into him, using the opening she had given him, and Hartt hit the well again. He shoved the flat of his palm against Fuery’s chin, pushing his head back as they wrestled with each other.

  “Calm the fuck down,” Hartt snapped and for a moment, Fuery eased off, but then Hartt made the mistake of looking at her.

  Fuery grabbed him by his throat and banged his head against the thick wall of the well.

  Hartt snarled and teleported, and she gasped as Fuery almost toppled into the well, barely catching himself at the last second. He pushed both hands against the wall and spun to face Hartt where he had reappeared beside her.

  “Gods, stop coming near me!” She shoved him too, and he growled at her as an affronted look flickered across his face.

  “I came here to help you,” Hartt barked.

  She knew that, but Fuery didn’t. All he could see was her dressed in nothing but her undergarments and a ruined, open tunic, and another male trying to defend her.

  Shaia grimaced as Fuery hit him hard in the gut with his right shoulder, lifting his feet off the ground.

  The hunger that raged in their bond grew stronger.

  Awareness rolled through her as her brain caught up and she watched Fuery as he fought Hartt, dodging every attempt the male made to grab hold of him and flashing fangs at every turn.

  The pain she had felt through their bond was responsible for Fuery’s hunger and the need that was driving him. It wasn’t pain born of the darkness, but it was pain that gave the darkness a stronger hold on him and was pulling him down into the abyss.

  He hadn’t wanted to hurt her when he had turned on her.

  He had wanted her blood.

  His need to heal was driving him, his instincts hijacking control, a desire to survive that she was familiar with because it burned in her too.

  She catalogued his injuries and focused on their bond and a trick she had heard mates could use. Her eyes widened as his injuries burned on her body, pain blazing in long lines over her chest, legs, and arms, and she gasped.