by Gina Kincade
Ava didn’t say a word. She just stood there, watching him. A moment passed. Then another. Nothing. He got up off the floor to stand next to her.
“And?” she finally asked.
“And what?”
“What’s the rest of it? The deal? What else?”
He shook his head. “There is nothing else.”
Confusion crossed her features. “So, to save Amélie and bring her, and the twins to Tarakona, you had to promise to bring her to the Citadel—presumably to be mated—on her twentieth birthday?”
“Yes.”
“This is what has had you so worried?” she asked incredulously. “You saved my sister. We can deal with anything else that comes along. I’ll talk to her. Make her understand. We’ve got three years before that time comes. Maybe by then, we can convince Lady Anabelle to reconsider. Either way, I don’t see that you had any other choice.”
He couldn’t have been more surprised had she grown a second head. Dragons tended to run with a hot temper. He’d heard wolves were much the same. “You’re not mad?”
She shook her head. Her smile, when it came, was watery but genuine. “Had you chosen to do nothing and my sister had died, I would never have been able to look at you the same. You made the best out of an impossible situation. Leaving my siblings in the care of others was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I chose this path in the hopes for a better future for us all. You’ve made that happen, so no, I’m not mad.”
She hugged him close and nuzzled his chin with her cheek.
A hard rap on the door had her jumping from his arms.
He marched over to it, ready to release his frustration on whoever dared interrupt his time with his mate.
When the door swung open, Lady Anabelle stood there with a panicked-looking Edmond next to her. Her cheek was smeared with blood, and she had a deep scratch on one arm. “What happened?” he asked as he brought them in and helped Lady Anabelle to a seat.
“She refuses to come. She’s shifted into her wolf form and won’t hear reason. It is highly unusual and against every rule, but I must expedite your mating so that your Chosen can be transported and convince Miss Amélie to come with us. She is weak, but she fights too hard for us to take her. The young ones will not leave without her.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Do it. Whatever it is that you need to do, please,” Ava begged. It didn’t matter what hoops she needed to jump through or what promises she had to make. She’d agree in a heartbeat to save her sisters and brother.
Damon came to stand next to her. “What does it entail? Will it hurt anything to hasten the mating?”
Lady Anabelle shook her head. “We were able to deliver the first burst of magic this evening. I won’t lie, placing your insignia will not be comfortable, but there will be no permanent damage. Once it is done, she will be able to leave the Citadel without ill effect.”
“We’re wasting time,” Ava cried. She wasn’t afraid of pain. She’d suffered through more than her share in the past. She would overcome this.
Damon looked like he might protest, but then he nodded. “Please, tell us what to do.”
Lady Anabelle came over to where Ava stood. “Did you feel anything when you entered the ballroom tonight?”
The pinching on her chest. Of course, it was magic. “Here, on my chest. It pinched and burned. I thought maybe I was reacting to the lotion on my skin.” She pointed to the spot right above her heart where the sensation had occurred.
“You’ll need to place your palm on her, King Damon. Skin to skin. Once you’ve made contact, bring your beast as close to the surface as you can without shifting. I’ll add the necessary magic to complete the ritual.”
Damon slid his hand beneath the sweeping neckline of her dress, pressed his palm over the sore spot, then closed his eyes. A muscle ticked in his jaw, and his body tensed. “I’m ready,” he said after a moment.
“Ava, when I tell you to, take a deep breath. The pain will only last a short while, I promise you that. Had we more time, I could have made this easier for you,” the High Priestess said, sympathy lacing her words.
“It’s okay. Do what you must. I’m ready.”
A whiff of something akin to sulfur soured the air, and when she looked at Damon, smoke curled from his nostrils, but he kept his hand on her chest and his gaze trained on hers. She would have liked to give him some reassurance that she’d be fine, but in the next instant, searing heat stabbed her from the exact center of his palm. Jolts of electricity tightened every muscle in her body before sending them into wicked spasms that stole her breath and had a pained cry tearing from her throat.
Another sound—deeper, rougher, and much more vicious—joined her anguished screams as Damon threw his head back and roared.
When her legs gave out, Damon wrapped his free arm around her waist and held her to him.
It might have been moments, or maybe hours, but when the agony finally subsided, each one of her muscles lay limp. She couldn’t bring her hand up to push a strand of hair out of her face had she wanted to.
“Get. Out.” Damon ordered, his voice rough and raw.
“But—”
“YOU HEARD ME. GET THE fuck out,” Damon screamed at Lady Anabelle. He didn’t give a fuck who she was. Ava shouldn’t have suffered through that kind of pain. Never again.
His joints ached from controlling the shift. If he had to look at the woman, even for a second, he would lose the battle, and she, her life.
“No,” Ava said, her voice barely a whisper. “No, Damon. We need her.”
Lady Anabelle came closer. “She’s right. I can transport you now. The mating is complete. Killing me won’t save Miss Amélie.”
“Please, Damon,” Ava begged as she regained her footing. “The pain is gone now. I’m okay. I promise you, but we need to go.”
He took a deep breath, willing his beast back. “Never again,” he promised, more to himself than anyone.
“I’ll give you a moment to change into more comfortable clothing, then we will go. You must hurry. Your sister wasn’t strong when I left. My team has been gently infusing power into her, but that can only last so long.”
“Thank you,” Ava whispered and took a shaky step.
Hell, no. Without asking or caring who was present to witness it, Damon scooped his mate into his arms, then carried her up the stairs and into their sleeping chamber.
He stepped into the closet and came out with a pair of jeans and a soft T-shirt, bringing them to where he’d sat her on the bed. If the gown and dress he’d seen her in so far were any indication, the clothes would fit like a glove.
When he got back in the bedroom, she was already stripped and was admiring the bright pink marking on her chest. The dragon’s mark was at the forefront with the Citadel’s emblem in what could have been black ink behind it.
“You’re sure the pain is gone? I can go alone. I’ll not return without her, no matter how hard she protests.”
Ava turned to face him. “No, she’s hurt, and she’s afraid. She’s not thinking straight. Having me there will help.” She took the clothing he held out and slipped them on without so much as a gasp.
Some of the tension coiling inside him, enraging his dragon, eased.
“Aren’t you going to change?” she asked.
He hadn’t even thought of it. He could go in his suit or as naked as the day he was born for all he cared, as long as she was okay. “No, let’s get this done.”
Chapter Fourteen
Ava had tried insisting that she enter her father’s home first, but Damon wouldn’t hear of it. Only once he’d determined that her father wasn’t in attendance did he allow her to enter. She flicked the switch on the lights, but nothing happened. No big surprise there. The power was out. These days, it was more shocking when they had electricity than when they didn’t. She didn’t have to guess at where her sister hid. They’d all found refuge in the small space beneath the house at one time or another to escape th
eir father’s violence, and this was no exception.
The coppery scent of blood mixed with musty soil filled the air, making her gag. Guilt flooded her. It should have been her. It would have been had she not left. Ava had stood in the way many times when her father raged against her younger siblings. Not once did she let him get his hands on them. But she’d gone, and now Amélie had paid the price. Her only consolation was the fact that the twins would never suffer the same fate.
“Amélie, mignone, it’s me. You’re safe now. I told you I would come back, and I have. Hélène, Marc. Come now. We have to hurry. Amélie needs a healer.”
A whimper came from the deepest, darkest recesses of the crawl space, then a small nose poked out. “That’s right. We’re leaving here, and we’re never coming back,” Ava said as she held her hand out.
Marc was the first to emerge, already, at such a young age, determined to be the man of the family and protect his sisters. They’d need to work on rebuilding the confidence that was torn to shreds each time his father had managed to hurt her and now Amélie.
Hélène came out right after. “Go into the house and get dressed. My new mate is here. He will keep you safe until I get Amélie.”
She waited until the twins squeezed past the small opening leading to the yard.
“I understand that you’re afraid, and you’re hurt. I’ve been that scared before too, but you know me, Amélie. I will always do everything in my power to keep you safe. We have a new home. There will be food on the table and hot water to bathe in. No one will raise a hand to either of us ever again.”
A small sound, nothing more than the shifting of dirt beneath a paw, told her that her sister was listening.
“Come now, Amélie. We have to go, mignone. Father will be back soon, and I fear that my mate will kill him for what he’s put us through. And as much as you hate him—we both hate him—I know you will never forgive yourself if he dies in that way.”
The scuttle came closer. When her sister approached, Ava wrapped her arms around the wolf’s neck, hugging her close. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to keep this from happening to you. Please forgive me,” she sobbed into her sister’s pelt, still sticky with blood.
A moment later, Amélie shifted. “I’m not sorry. I couldn’t take seeing you hurt like that anymore. I would have rather died in father’s attack than witnessed it again,” she cried.
Ava sniffed and dried her tears with the back of her hand. “Let’s go. There’s nothing here for us except bad memories. Shift back into your wolf, and we’ll leave. We’ll get new clothes once we get to where we’re going.”
AVA HAD ASKED HIM TO wait inside when she dashed out the back door, but he’d be damned if he’d risk anything going wrong and not be close enough to help her. Two small wolves came scampering out of a hole barely big enough for them to get through. The same hole she’d contorted her body to disappear into minutes before.
When she didn’t immediately follow, he wanted to tear into the dirt and the ramshackle home that had been hers to get to her. There was no way he’d fit in that hole, but he could rip the house right off its foundation if need be. A moment later, a soft grunt sounded, then finally, she popped her head out. Shimmying back and forth, she squeezed out of the opening and gave him a shaky smile.
“She’s coming out. I asked her to stay in her wolf form. She’ll heal faster, and that way, she won’t have to deal with anyone,” Ava said as she got to her feet.
A moment later, a pained whimper and the scrape of paws sounded from beneath the house. The she-wolf poked her head out, trying to twist to fit through the opening, but gave up with a yelp.
Next to him, Ava covered her mouth with her hands, failing to muffle her small sob.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted two children, not yet in their teens and dressed in ratty clothes, come to stand a short distance away.
“Tell her to move back. As soon as I say go, she’ll have to come out. I won’t allow anything to happen to her,” Damon said.
Ava didn’t question him. She went to the hole and spoke softly to her sister. “Damon is going to help. You need to step back, but be ready to get out when he says it’s safe, okay?”
The second Ava gave him the nod to proceed, Damon took over. His claws pierced his fingertips in a painful yet satisfying burn. He couldn’t take the hurt from Ava’s past—or her siblings’, for that matter—but with this, he could help.
The brittle wood at the side of the house gave way. The old house creaked under his onslaught. “Is there anything you need from inside?” he asked. If he kept tearing at the unstable wall and foundation, he couldn’t guarantee that the thing would be standing by the time he stopped.
“No, nothing.”
With more force than necessary, he ripped through the wall, opening it down to the hole in the dirt, making a wide area for Amélie to crawl through without aggravating her injuries. If the shack fell and their father became homeless, all the better.
“Now,” he ordered.
A moment later, the she-wolf came scrambling out. If her unsteady gait and pronounced limp wasn't enough to tell Damon how hurt she was, her brown and white coat covered in blood was. All shifters healed fast, but this small wolf had a couple of gashes that had yet to close. She stumbled to a stop next to Ava, then crashed down to the ground.
“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.” Ava sobbed as she took in the extent of the damage. “You’re safe now.”
“She’s right. No one will ever hurt you like this again, but we need to get you to our healers. Will you allow us to transport you?” he asked, adding his assurance to Ava’s.
The wolf looked at him, then with another whimper, her eyes rolled back, and her body went limp.
Damon had been with injured dragons often enough to know when a beast was near death. Ava’s sister wasn’t a dragon, but that didn’t change the fact that if she didn’t get help soon, she wouldn’t make it. Hell, she might still not. Crouching low, he picked up the unconscious wolf and carried her to where the children were waiting with Lady Anabelle. Ava joined him a moment later.
Just before the world melted away in a cloud of sparkle, a disjointed rumble sounded, and the house collapsed. He couldn’t bring himself to be upset over it. His only regret was that the man responsible for hurting his mate and her sister wasn’t in there when it fell.
Chapter Fifteen
Ava couldn’t stop the shaking. She was tough. Really tough. But between the mating, Amélie’s attack, traveling in the way of the Tragris, and being brought to a castle halfway around the world that put even the Citadel to shame, she was emotionally and physically drained.
Had they not arrived at her father’s home as quickly as they had, her sister would be dead instead of resting surrounded by Damon’s most trusted healers. They’d almost lost her a couple of times in the last few hours, but she’d finally stabilized. When Damon suggested they get some rest, she’d made them promise that if Amélie’s condition deteriorated again, they would come for her immediately.
The twins had been allowed to remain for a short while, but when Amélie didn’t rally right away, a kind, gray-haired woman had been brought in to settle them into bed. They’d gone without a fuss, but worry had etched their young features.
“All right, it’s been a long day. Let’s check on Hélène and Marc one last time before turning in,” Damon suggested as they made their way to their temporary quarters. Arrangements had been made for them to take residence in what would be Amélie’s room once she was well enough to leave the healing chambers. It was right next to the twin’s rooms, which, she was told, had adjoining doors.
She hadn’t known the man an entire day, yet here he was, taking care of not only her, but her family as if they were his own. She’d been desperate to check on them, but the fact that he’d thought of it without her urging warmed her to the depths of her soul.
“This door leads to Marc’s room,” he said as he turned the knob and stepped aside so
she could enter before him.
“Is Amélie all right?” Her little brother’s anxious voice sounded the second he spotted her there.
“She will be, sweetheart,” she assured.
“You’re sure?” Hélène asked from across the room, where a door was open. “It was bad, Ava. Really bad.”
“I know, but she’s getting the help she needs. She’ll be as good as new in a couple of days. You’ll see. Both of you get some rest. Damon and I will be right next door.”
Marc looked at Damon from his perch on the high bed, his gaze deadly serious. He took a deep breath and puffed out his little chest. “I may be small, but I will eviscerate you if you hurt her,” he threatened.
Damon coughed, hiding his chuckle as he strode deeper into the room, before extending his hand to Marc. “Real men don’t hurt those they love, and they never raise a hand to a woman. I’m glad we’re in agreement. Between us, we’ll keep our family safe and sound.”
Marc gave an exaggerated nod, his overly long bangs flopping in front of his eyes, before taking the proffered hand. “We will. For tonight, Hélène will sleep here in the room with me. She’s scared. She can have the bed. I’ll take the floor,” he said decisively, sounding much too old for his years.
Hélène twirled her hands in front of her and nibbled on her lip. Ava was about to agree when Damon spoke up again. “That’s reasonable. Thank you for thinking of it.”
When Damon crossed the room toward Hélène, she flinched and scooted out of the way. If Damon noticed her reaction, he didn’t say. He walked past her and through the door to the adjoining room. After a moment of quiet shuffling, he reappeared with a mattress draped over his wide shoulders. He carefully stepped around Hélène once more and set the mattress next to the bed.
“This way, you won’t be on the cold stone,” he told Marc before coming back to Ava’s side.
