He couldn’t.
But he was angry. That part hadn’t changed. He just had no one to direct his rage at. So he would filter it into finding Jasper. He would find the missing wolf, and then fight this war he’d never asked to be part of.
Pacing by the campfire someone had set up, even though it was midday, Thorne decided he’d waited long enough. Someone had found a blanket and cast it over Rush’s shoulders. He pulled a corner to cover both he and his mate. They spoke in low, hushed voices to each other while Leaf and the remaining crew who hadn’t gone back to the Hollow were doing last sweeps of the area.
Thorne shifted from wolf to fae form, and then went over. Rush stiffened. Clarke made a point to stare at his face and not the naked half of him most females enjoyed.
“Rush. Clarke.” He nodded.
She broke free and before Thorne knew it, she hugged him. Going tense all over, he looked to Rush with wide eyes. “What…?”
Rush smirked. “Let her have it.”
The redhead lifted her gaze, eyes glistening with tears. Thorne frowned.
“Thank you,” Clarke said.
Both Rush’s and Thorne’s eyebrows winged up. She didn’t. Oh, yeah. She did.
“And before either of you rub in the fact I said thank you. I don’t care. I’ll say it again.”
“Why?” Thorne asked.
Clarke stepped back to see him better. “Because in the end it was you who said you wanted to come to Crescent Hollow to help Anise. Leaf told me you were the first to get her, and the rest of them, down from the cages.”
A weird feeling rolled in Thorne’s chest. “I was just doing my job.”
“Ah,” Clarke laughed. “But you see, it wasn’t doing your job. Anise is alive and recovering because of you. So thank you. This is me telling you that when you need something in return from me, I’ll be here.”
“Within reason.” Rush held out his finger.
All three of them stared at each other, no more words coming to mind.
Well, this is awkward.
He turned to leave.
Clarke took hold of his wrist. “Wait.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Her irises turned white and seemed to go somewhere else as the Seeing vision took her in its grip. With a gasp, she let go of Thorne and her eyes returned to normal.
“I lied,” she said. “When I told you I could help you find Jasper at the Order.”
“I know,” he growled. “I heard your confession at Crescent Hollow.”
“Well. The thing is… after touching you, just now, I saw something new.”
Thorne tensed. “What did you see?”
“I saw the person who will lead you to Jasper.” She bit her lip and slid a look to Rush.
“Whatever it is, you can tell me,” Thorne said. “I promise I won’t bite your head off.”
Right now. Maybe later. If she lied again.
“Okay,” Clarke replied. “It’s just that… the person who will lead you to him is a human from my time. A woman.”
Thorne folded his arms, chewing over the scenario in his mind. Okay. It wasn’t so bad. Clarke had turned out… semi-bearable. And she was loyal. Strong-willed. A good mate for his father. He supposed.
“That’s fine,” he said. “Where do I find her?”
“She won’t thaw for some time, but… there’s more.”
He growled, “And?”
“And,” she flinched, “Never mind.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. She was clearly hiding something. And it festered already in his mind. These humans, even the ones imbued with power, were tricky creatures. They lied as easy as breathing. It was enough to make him sick.
Rush must have seen the fire in his eyes, because his alpha energy swelled, brushing down Thorne’s front in warning.
“Enough,” Rush said to him. “When it’s time, she will tell you.”
“Jasper might not have time.”
“He does. It’s all he has.” Clarke cuddled into Rush, her expression turning melancholy.
Thorne opened his mouth—
“Thorne.” Rush’s deep voice cut through the night. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I’ve always tried to be there for you. Being a Guardian was forced on you. If you want to leave, I will support your decision. When it comes time to go on the hunt, I will be right there next to you. Until you’re ready to accept that, I need to be with my mate.”
Rush lifted Clarke in his arms and carried her to where Leaf stood with Shade, discussing the containment of the area.
“Where are you going?” Thorne asked.
The only reply was something mumbled about a cabin. And when Leaf activated a portal, the two of them went through on their own.
Just before the portal closed, Clarke shouted to him, “We’ll talk soon.”
And then they were gone.
Chapter Forty-Three
With the moon lighting the way, Clarke held Rush tightly as he carried her across the snowy shore of the lake near his cabin. Icy air nipped at her skin, but he shrugged the blanket from his shoulders and kept walking. Straight into the warm water. As the level hit his knees, he sank down. She gasped as they immersed in the heat. Steam curled between them. It was like a bath. A glorious bath. With deft, strong hands, he positioned her so she straddled his front, until it was just the two of them staring into each other’s eyes.
She wiped silver hair from his furrowed brow. He was here. He was safe. He was alive. The emotion was too much for her fragile heart to contain and she felt it slide down their bond. She still marveled at how his injury healed when he shifted into a wolf. She’d seen Thaddeus stab him, but where the sword had entered his arm, only a pink scar remained. She lightly traced her finger around it, and then slid her hands over his shoulders to massage the hard knots on his back.
The long, guttural groan that came out of him rattled Clarke to the core, setting her pulse on fire.
“Feel better?” she purred.
Two eyes shuttered. His brows lifted in the middle as his body lost tension. Hands gripped her hips and pushed down, proving that not all parts of him had relaxed. He hardened beneath her and lifted his hips brazenly to prove it. A small moan slipped out of her.
“Yeah. Feels better,” he muttered. “Mate. Mine.”
She smiled. “Mate. I like that.”
His eyes opened. Clashed. And he growled, “Well-blessed mate. The first in centuries. Us.” Humor fled as his gaze turned smoldering. He lowered it to the luminescent blue markings twirling her arm. And then the mirror markings on his. Suddenly, Clarke couldn’t breathe. His love fed down their bond, gushing like a tidal wave. Electricity rippled across the water. Wind buffeted their hair, tickling her skin. There was something in the air, in the water that… that was alive.
“Can you feel it?” she whispered, looking around in awe. Tree top shadows rustled against the gray sky. The wind whispered. The water swirled and eddied… and little sparks of bioluminescent blue swam about their bodies in a lazy dance. Her breath hitched. “What is it?”
“This lake is a source of power,” he said, voice hoarse. “It’s welcoming us. Here we can replenish our mana faster than from the land. But it’s not only the lake feeding me, refilling me. I feel your power through our bond, seeping into my body, making me whole. I feel your love. I feel…” He snarled and cupped her face with his hand, forcing her gaze back to his. Dark pupils dilated… almost helpless. “I feel…”
And then she saw it. It wasn’t the world around them she was feeling. It was Rush. His power. His spark. Everything his curse had blocked was now coming back. At the academy, he’d mentioned he could control the elements as well as shift into wolf. When she’d first met him, she likened him to a storm. And now a storm raged around them. Swirling wind. Sparks skipping over his shoulders. Electricity in the air. Thunder crashing. All from him. And here he was, tense and full of energy, eyes and skin barely containing the tempest crackling within.
<
br /> “This is you,” she whispered. “The real you.”
“This is what you do to me. This is us.”
His lips crashed against hers. Tongue pushed into her mouth. He deepened the kiss on a shuddering groan. So much feeling bursting in her chest. Falling. Falling. She was drowning in his scent, his emotion, his heat.
Frenzy came over them. She couldn’t get close enough, and he couldn’t touch her enough. Her clothes? What clothes. They were gone. Only the sundial on the leather cord remained. The rest had simply burned off. Disintegrated. It had been him. His magic. She knew from his wicked smile. His male satisfaction, and the possessive thrust of his cock into her now unimpeded entrance.
She gasped and fell back until her head landed on the water, eyes on the star filled sky. Reveling in the way he filled her completely, she yielded to his passion because it felt like her own. There was no way to tell where it ended or begun. Strong hands braced her back and kept her afloat, while he slid into her from beneath. Hot lips trailed down her front. Fire skipped over her body, electrifying every nerve ending. He pulled her nipple into his mouth, growling around her flesh. “Mine, Clarke. You’re mine.”
She didn’t need to speak, just feel, and he knew how much she loved him. The sensations hurtling through her body were almost too much. She felt his desire. He felt hers. They shared their very life-force. They were more than married. More than mates. They were one.
And they would be unstoppable.
Sometime later, Clarke cuddled Rush within his cabin. Lying on the bed, a fire crackling in the hearth, they couldn’t let go of each other. The sprites were happy to see them, and danced in the flames.
But her stomach rumbled.
Rush pushed up onto his forearms. His laughing eyes landed on her stomach and then he pressed his ear to her womb.
“Is the little wolf hungry?” he asked.
She laughed and stroked his hair. “How do you know it will be a wolf? Maybe it will stay human.”
He sat up, a serious look on his face. “Any babe this ravenous is surely a wolf.”
“Yeah, okay. Whatever you say, Dad.”
His expression turned somber, and he laid back to stare at the canopy of leaves branching across the cabin ceiling. She felt his guilt spear through their bond. With a gentle pat on his chest, she rolled to face him and rested on her elbow.
“Thorne will come around,” she said.
He shrugged.
“He will,” she insisted. “He has his own journey to go on first. Remember I mentioned my friend? The one who will lead him to Jasper? She’s going to be his Well-blessed mate. I just didn’t want to let him know. Somehow, I don’t think he’ll be receptive to a mating not of his choosing, and to be honest, she’s not going to be happy either.”
Rush turned to her, eyes hard. “There will be more unions like ours?”
She nodded. “I think many more. And for every one I find thawed from my time, there will be a Guardian as their mate. I think it’s for a reason.”
“Because you give me power. Power unlike any I’ve felt before.” He rolled onto her, and crowded her with his strength. Muscles bulged. Tendons flexed. She had no doubt he would be lethal, dangerous, deadly. As if reading her mind, he gave her a smile that displayed sharp wolf-like fangs. “With your mana replenishing mine through our bond, I feel invincible.”
She bit her lip. It was like she was Rush’s battery. His personal source of power. “Our ability to transfer power will come in handy when the war finally hits.”
“Then we will be ready when it is time.” He arched a hesitant brow. “When will that be?”
“Hopefully, if we keep fighting, it will never be time. But if you’re referring to when will I need to go and find the next person from my time? Not for a few years.”
He loosed a breath. “Good. I want to be alone with you first. Time without the pressure of fate scratching at our door.”
A scratching came at the cabin door. Their eyes widened. And then a wolf whined outside.
Rush returned her grin. “Gray must be hungry too.”
Chapter Forty-Four
Two Years Later
A lifetime of manipulation, machination, and sheer joy had brought Rush to this—sitting by his lake, watching a half nude woman wading in the shallows, hunting for pebbles. She was beautiful. Still. The same as the day he’d first laid eyes on her. And still, he leered like a horny teen.
He doubted he’d ever stop.
“What do you think,” he mumbled to the cooing toddler wriggling on the blanket next to him. He tickled the child’s stomach. “Does she look good enough to eat?”
She giggled and rolled on the blanket, trying to fight her way from Rush, but he caught her and dragged her back to him. Named aptly for the place of Rush’s and Clarke’s first kiss, Willow had redefined Rush’s definition of life. Even though she was yet to shift into a wolf and prove her daddy proud, Willow had carved out new places in Rush’s heart.
A yip came from Rush’s right, and Gray came bursting out of the forest, followed by his own litter of new pups. Three little white and gray wolves chased him into the water where they stayed, barking and yipping from the shore. Gray pranced around Clarke, splashing in the shallows. Rush hadn’t thought the old wolf had it in him to rear another brood, but there he was, eyes lit up with new life.
In the past two years since Clarke had been in this time, the weather had warmed. The snow was gone from the mountains. For now. She said it would be back next year.
But Gray and his pack had stayed. The damned sprites had stayed. Even Thorne had begrudgingly visited a handful of times. Granted, each time had been to push for information on when they’d find Jasper, but he’d come. And each time the gap between them had closed just a little.
Kyra had established herself in Crescent Hollow as the new Lady Nightstalk. She was doing it on her own. No alpha mate to join her. But she had friends. Anise, Clarke’s barmaid friend had also made a full recovery and supported Kyra’s leadership, along with most of the town.
A trickle of unease traveled down their mating bond to Rush. Clarke patted Gray’s old head. She pulled out the sundial on the cord around her neck, checked the time and then squinted his way. He knew that look.
Their blissful break was over. Things were about to change.
The End.
Thank you for reading Clarke’s and Rush’s story. I hope you liked their journey. Keep reading the Fae Guardians series to spend more time with these characters. Thorne’s and Laurel’s story is coming soon.
Lana
xx
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Preview of Envy
Chapter One
He woke in a strange place.
Thick, pungent air dragged into his lungs from the darkness. His head pounded and his body ached to the point of pain. Soft and lumpy beneath him. Hard and cold at his sides. When he fumbled around, his movement stirred the rancid odor. He knew exactly where he was.
Dumpster.
And if he’d hidden in a Dumpster, he most likely wore his combat uniform—a quick pat down his leather pants and tug on his hood confirmed that. His hands came away sticky, and when he touched his thumb to his forefinger, the tackiness remained. He held it to his nose and sniffed. Sweet, metallic, thick: Blood.
But whose?
And, how did he get here?
Before panic set roots in his chest, he thought to himself: Evan Lazarus. Your name is Evan Lazarus. You fight the deadly sin envy. You save people.
Sometimes.
Maybe.
He must have done something terrible… something worth hiding from. And rather than call f
or help, he’d hidden, because, why would the Deadly Seven help him? They were only his family.
Evan moved to lift the lid on the Dumpster, but a pain pierced his torso. The sensation brought memories of the previous night flashing in a dizzying torrent. Multiple pairs of hands forced him down. Fists slammed into his eye sockets and cheekbones. Blinding pain. Swollen vision. Boots pounded into his abdomen. Air wheezed from his lungs. A crow bar to his ribs, jaw, knees. He’d bucked hard, but they’d ruthlessly pinned him down, driving his limbs wider until pain screamed in his joints, leaving his torso vulnerable to more violence… then he’d yielded and smiled and laughed. Because he’d deserved it.
Evan scrubbed his face with his hand to wipe the memory, but the words of his assailant came hurtling back: “If you’re looking for validation, kid, you’re in the wrong place. You should have thrown the fight like we told you to.” Then the lights had gone out.
Evan laid in the dark Dumpster, eyes closed, acutely aware of every ache and stab of pain in his body. They’d left him for dead.
But he wasn’t dead.
Well, he couldn’t stay there forever.
Taking a chance he pushed the lid open and let it crash against the wall. Sweet, crisp air burned his lungs and he almost choked on the freshness. Dawn peeked over the tall grungey cityscape, casting the alley walls into stark chiaroscuro. Any other day he might have been awed enough to paint the atmospheric sight, but today his mood was murky and heavy like the sky.
It would rain soon and, dammit, his fighting leathers chafed when wet. At least he’d left his weapons at home before he’d allowed himself to be a boxing bag at the fight ring the night before.
He searched for a plastic bag in the Dumpster then crawled out and peeled his jacket and mouth scarf off, leaving him in a used-to-be-white T-shirt and blood-stained leather pants.
The Longing of Lone Wolves Page 30
