Restraint (The Revelation Series Book 2)

by Randi Cooley Wilson

  I close my eyes. “In the second I hesitated with Deacon, she got by me, Asher. My eyes were on you. Watching yours plead with me not to take Deacon on. In that moment, Aria moved in. If I’d been paying attention to what I was supposed to be focused on, she wouldn’t have gotten by me. She’d still be here.” I reopen my eyes to catch his, wishing I hadn’t.

  His face pales. “Are you implying it’s my fault she’s dead?” he asks with a solemn tone.

  I shake my head. “No. I’m saying it’s mine. I was distracted, and someone died because of it. All those times you told me you had to put my protection first...well, I get it now.” I pause to catch my breath. “I think we should put some space between us for a bit.” I regret the words as soon as they fall out.

  The striking gargoyle studies me for a moment. “If that’s what you truly want, siren, then I will respect your request.” His voice is thick.

  My eyes shift down. I can’t look at him. Though his face is impassible, I know his heart is breaking. I can feel it through our link. “I need to concentrate on the ascension and training. When you’re around, I seem to get tunnel vision. We should respect the rules and boundaries that have been set for us,” I lie.

  Asher stares at me with an unhealthy intensity, like he’s trying to read my thoughts and figure out my motives. He prowls to me and I begin to panic inside. If he gets too close, I won’t be able to hold my resolve. I tell myself to breathe, not back down. This is necessary.

  He stops in front of me, crouching down to meet me at eye level. Without a word, he lifts his hand to a strand of my hair that has fallen out of my ponytail and secures it behind my ear. His hand glides over my cheek in a light caress. It’s all I can do not to close my eyes and lean into the sensation, flushing this idea down the toilet.

  “Say it,” he demands quietly.

  My eyes lift and meet his. “Say what?” I whisper.

  “Tell me you don’t want me and I’ll leave,” he says.

  I exhale. “I just need some time to focus on the ascension,” I repeat.

  He shoots me a look. “That’s not what I asked you.” His tone is firm.

  “What do you want me to say, Asher? I’m asking you for some space to focus. It’s simple.” I ignore the burn in my throat the words cause.

  “I won’t allow you to push me away.” He growls and grabs my head, forcing me to look directly at him. Slowly, he brushes his lips over mine as a shiver works its way down my spine from the tender kiss. “Say you don’t want me. This. Us. It’s the only way I’ll walk away,” he murmurs against my lips.

  I close my eyes. This is for the best. It’s the right thing to do, so I look straight into his eyes as my heart lurches. “I-I don’t want you.” I barely get the deceitful words out.

  His jaw clenches. The tick in his cheek picks up but other than that, he is motionless. “All right. Training starts at nine in the morning. Be downstairs in the gym no later.” His voice is void of emotion before he drops his hands to his sides and turns to leave.

  “Asher?” I hate that my voice sounds so weak.

  He stops but doesn’t face me. His broad shoulders stiffen.

  “What we want isn’t always what we need.” I force back my tears. I fear McKenna is wrong because my body is fighting against this.

  He snorts. “And sometimes what we need is something we didn’t even know we wanted.” With that, he pulls the door open in a harsh manner and walks out.

  I curl up into the bed, knowing I just made a horrible mistake.

  4 Words of Warning

  My eyes flicker to the mirror as I scrutinize the stranger staring back at me. An ordinary girl watches my every move with eyes that seem vacant this morning. On the outside, she and I seem similar, but the spark of life her once lively face held, is now dim. I sigh, my reflection mimicking the action.

  After I splash my face with soap and water, I run my toothbrush over my teeth and throw on some mascara and my favorite vanilla-coconut lip gloss then make my way down to the kitchen. The first thing I notice is Fiona singing and flittering away happily by the stove. If possible, her smile gets even brighter when she sees me. It’s contagious. I have no choice but to return it with my own small grin.

  “Mornin’, luv. Ye’re da first one awake. Have a seat and I’ll bring ye some breakfast,” she offers in a cheerful, airy tone while running her palms over her white ruffled apron. A panther, this woman is not. Her eyes widen at my internal dialogue. Crap.

  Ignoring her reaction, I walk toward the fridge. “That’s okay, Fiona. I’m happy to get it.”

  She waves me off in a maternal fashion. “Nonsense, lass. Sit,” she orders as she redirects me to the table and pushes on both my shoulders, forcing me into the chair.

  Resigned, I stay seated at the large, empty table as Fiona glides around, preparing a plate. My gaze lands on the outside gardens, visible through the four French doors off the breakfast sitting area.

  The morning sunlight is filtering through the birch trees, bouncing off what’s left of the fall flowers and winter plants. A light layer of fresh snow fell last night and when the sun’s rays hit the white powder, it sparkles like diamonds. Everything looks so pure and untouched. Serene.

  “The gardens are beautiful, even in the winter. I bet they’re spectacular in the spring and summer months.” I peer at them longingly, missing my aunt.

  Fiona shifts her eyes from me to the grounds and nods. “Aye, ‘tis true da gardens are very special indeed. Vivian, da lad’s mum, adored them. Aside from da boys, ‘twas her pride and joy.”

  “My aunt Elizabeth would love them. She has an amazing green thumb and affection for flowers and plants,” I offer, feeling a pang of homesickness.

  Fiona places a plate of eggs, hash browns and sausage in front of me with coffee and orange juice. Then she puts hot cinnamon buns on the table next to fresh muffins and fruit. I raise my eyebrows at her as she sits across from me, sipping her Earl Grey tea.

  “Yer aunt sounds luvly, dear. She must be very special ta ye.”

  I offer her a genuine smile. “She is.”

  Asher walks in, and in an instant, our eyes lock. My heart stumbles as my stomach drops and lurches while I relive the stupidity of my actions from last night. He holds my gaze for a moment, his face softening. Not wanting to get sucked in, I snap my focus to my breakfast.

  Fiona notices the obsessive look I’m giving my scrambled eggs and widens her eyes. Her light gray eyebrows pinch together at my odd behavior. Clearly, I’ve gone all mental case.

  “Morning, Fi.” Asher kisses her cheek and offers his breathtaking smile.

  “Mornin’ darlin’. Sit down and I’ll get ye some coffee and make ye a plate,” she offers.

  “Eve,” he says curtly, watching my reaction.

  Asher folds his large, intimidating body into a seat directly across from me, even though there are several vacant chairs available. I squirm at his intense gaze, keeping my eyes fixated on my plate as he keeps his on me. It’s like he’s trying to see inside my head and figure out my thought process as he places his hands under his chin, scrutinizing me.

  We sit in awkward silence while I push around the food on my plate. Fiona finally returns, placing coffee and a breakfast plate in front of Asher as the tension continues to build between us. His eyes never leave my face as they burn into my skin.

  Fiona stares at the two of us, hands on her hips. “I don’t know what ye did, lad, but whatever ‘twas, ye best be fixin’ it,” she says with a no-nonsense tone.

  “I didn’t do anything, Fi,” Asher says, annoyed. He drops his chin to focus on his plate.

  At that, my flight instincts kick in and I stand in an abrupt motion, scraping the chair across the kitchen floor. Fumbling, I clear my plate, dropping it in the sink then turning to the doorway to run upstairs, but not before Fiona blocks my escape route. Sneaky panther.

  The short, plump woman just stands there. She narrows her cat eyes at me and places her small hands on
her round hips. I swallow, bracing for the lecture.

  “Rules are meant ta be broken, if luvs at stake,” Fiona says quietly, her eyes unwavering.

  I hold her gaze for a brief moment before shifting my focus to the wall behind her. “Broken rules equate to nothing but pain and darkness.”

  Her lips tighten in a straight line. “Stars don’t shine wit out da darkness.”

  Before I can reply, Asher interrupts me. “Training in twenty minutes. If you’re late, you’ll run,” he says coolly from the table. With his gargoyle hearing, I’m sure he overheard our exchange.

  “I’ll be there with five minutes to spare.” The sharp note in my tone is not missed as I storm around Fiona, escaping.

  ***

  I make it to the training room with one minute to spare and mentally high five myself. My victory is short lived when I walk in and see Asher already standing there. A severe scowl mars his handsome face. His arms are crossed as he stares at the clock. What the fuck?

  “You’re late.” His voice is laced with fury.

  “I have a minute,” I say, pointing to the clock on the wall.

  “Not by my watch. On the treadmill. You’re running,” he challenges, one eyebrow raised.

  I huff and just stand with my hands on my hips like a rebel. “You aren’t even wearing a watch,” I throw back.

  “Keep staring at me like that and for every minute your ass isn’t running, I’ll add another mile,” he spits out, fuming.

  Lucky for me, Callan walks in and raises his eyebrows to his hairline. “Lover’s quarrel?”

  “No!” Asher and I shout at the same time.

  Callan puts his hands up in surrender. “For fucks sake, no need to bite a gargoyle’s head off.”

  “Eve’s running before she begins training. NOW!” Asher shouts and points to the treadmill.

  What is his problem? “Fine.” I hop on the treadmill and begin my punishment, seething at his attitude.

  “You haven’t seen anything yet, sweetheart,” he says with a cocky air.

  He knows I hate it when he calls me sweetheart. He’s goading me and I refuse to give in. Instead, I keep my face forward and run while trying to block him out. I apply what I’ve learned with Michael in my meditation training. I focus all my energy and push the hum of our bond down, locking it away in its own personal compartment of pissed off Eve.

  “Are you planning to ride her all day?” Callan questions Asher.

  “Do you have something to say about it, brother?” Asher asks with his arms crossed.

  “Nope. Just want to know how today is going to play out. That’s all, man.” Callan backs off.

  “Last night, Eve expressed an interest in focusing on her ascension, so that’s what we’re going to do. Focus!” Asher says pointedly as he burns holes into my back.

  I swallow. Crap. It’s going to be a long day. After what feels like a lifetime of sprinting, I’m sweating and gasping for air before Asher gives me a reprieve.

  “Hand-to-hand with Callan. Get on the mat,” Asher says, pointing to the blue padded area.

  I narrow my eyes. “Are you going to order me around all day?” I inquire defiantly.

  He stands taller. “Order? No. Help you focus? Yes. On. The. Mat.” Asher waits.

  I sulk and take my position across from Callan. He’s biting his tongue in an attempt to hold back a laugh. Clearly, Asher didn’t take my request for space last night very well. Well, two can play at this game. I school my features. I will not give in. I will not give in. I will not give in. I chant in my head, hoping the more I do it, the more I’ll believe it.

  “Tough day, cutie?” Callan questions, amused.

  “Suck it, Callan,” I state, my grumpiness increasing.

  “Less talking, more training,” Asher snaps at the two of us.

  Callan’s eyes glint and his jaw tightens. “Let’s get started.” He charges at me and I spin to my right out of his reach only to have my back slammed onto the mat. Pain shoots through my arm as I lay there stunned.

  “What the hell, Asher?” Callan scowls, looming over me as he helps me up.

  A lopsided smile forms on Asher’s beautiful, pouty lips. “Oh, I’m sorry. You’re fighting both of us today. Was that not made clear? I’d hate to give off mixed signals.” It’s obvious he’s not just talking about training.

  “No mixed signals here. Intentions are clear,” I retort, enraged.

  He grins wickedly. “Wonderful. Again then.” We all return to our stances.

  Asher and Callan come at me simultaneously. I manage to roll my hips and keep my chin down, dodging Callan only to end up getting tackled hard by Asher. I fall the wrong way on my arm, again. This time, I flinch from the pain. Asher’s face falls slightly at my show of hurt but then pulls back into his hardass instructor façade.

  I roll over and groan. “Thanks for the smack down.” I inhale to ease the pain.

  “Your point has been made, Asher.” Callan tries to intervene with a calm tone.

  Asher offers me his hand. “Get up.”

  I stand on my own and throw a nasty smirk at him before getting back into my position.

  “Again,” he challenges.

  “Ash-” Callan was cut off by Asher’s shout.

  “Again!” He screams so loud I think they might have heard him in the fae realm.

  Swallowing hard, I brace myself for the next hit. But instead of landing on my back, I hear Michael’s voice. Thank God for archangels.

  “It’s nice to finally see you taking training seriously, Eve,” Michael says proudly.

  At his entrance, Asher and Callan both tilt their head in a slight dip as a show of respect. Oddly, Michael reciprocates only to Asher. The archangel’s jade eyes swing over to mine and he politely bows to me. His dark blond hair falls forward at the tilting movement.

  “I appreciate the focus,” he teases with little humor in his voice as his eyes shift back to Asher in disapproval. Without a doubt, he’s still tweaked about walking in on Asher and I lip locking during our last training session.

  I roll my eyes. “Good to see you too, Michael.” It comes out snarky.

  “That arm is bruising. Perhaps you should put some ice on it,” the angel suggests.

  I shoot a death glare at Asher. “I’ll be fine. Remember, I can heal myself. Must be the archangel spirit in my soul,” I offer with sarcastic wit.

  Michael just looks at me thoughtfully for a moment. “Right. Well then, I think we’ve had enough physical teaching for the day. Let’s go work on your mental control. On the agenda: astral projecting and realm jumping. Lady Finella awaits us in the Kingdom of the Fae to assist with the realm jumping, so we’ll begin there today.”

  “She isn’t done with her training,” Asher exclaims, irritated.

  “Today’s instruction feels more like punishment rather than an exercise in physical strength, Mr. St. Michael.” The angel’s voice leaves no room for argument.

  I watch the gargoyle and archangel in some bizarre paranormal stare down. My life is so weird. I step in and turn to face Asher, locking eyes with him. “It’s okay. I’ll work on the mind control instruction and then we can pick up on the physical training later this afternoon.”

  “Fine,” Asher concedes, grabbing his water bottle and storming out. The sound of the door slamming causes me to jump.

  “I’ll go talk to him, Eves. You start your work with Michael,” Callan suggests.

  I nod my appreciation as Callan pats my shoulder and exits the room.

  My eyes travel back to Michael as he smiles at me. “Shall we?”

  “Let’s do it.” To be honest, I’m looking forward to seeing Lady Finella again and running away from the Asher drama for a little while.

  My eyes open and I’m at peace, thanks in part to the stunning paradise of nature that surrounds me. I inhale a deep breath, enjoying the smell of honeysuckle and lavender. The fragrances signal I have arrived in the Kingdom of the Fae.

  “Excellen
t realm jumping, Eve. Very proficient control,” Michael comments from my right.

  My eyes scan the woodland area and a sincere grin crosses my lips. I love being in the fae realm. It’s so soothing and peaceful with its emerald forest, crystal blue water, and brightly colored flower clusters that look like patchwork along the green grass.

  All around the forest, the sprites glow in bright blues, ambers and pink hues. The flittering fairies whisper and giggle in a playful and carefree manner.

  The warm voice of Lady Finella, Queen of the Fae wraps around me like a warm blanket. “Welcome warrior and daughter of Heaven. We are honored to receive you both here,” she offers kindly with a slight bow of her head to us.

  I walk over to her and tilt my head before snagging her into a hug. “Hello, your grace. It’s so nice to see you.” Her beautiful red ringlets cascade around me. The silk strands smell like roses.

  Michael saunters over to us, bowing his head in respect at the regal queen. “Lady Finella, as always, it is an honor to see you again. We offer our deepest gratitude to you for allowing us to fine-tune Eve’s realm jumping gifts in the safety of your kingdom.”

  The queen turns to the archangel. “The realm is eternally fortunate to welcome you both.”

  “I must ask for your grace’s forgiveness, once again, at the informal way a daughter of Heaven addresses you,” he apologizes for my casual greeting.

  Lady Finella slides her gaze to me, offering a wink only I’m privy to. “We are very pleased to offer haven to the daughter of Heaven and embraces, if she so wishes,” Lady Finella responds in a light, playful tone and I muffle a giggle.

  “I have quite enjoyed getting to know Eve this past lunar cycle.” Her gold cuffs shine brightly in the realm’s sunshine. The runes that run over her arms and legs slither in rapid movement. “I do hope you will be joining me for a light fare and tea at the castle. I am sure the Duchess of Sprites will be very happy to see you again,” the regal queen extends her invitation.