Mischief's Mate (The Immortal Mates Book 1)

by Scarletti, Nicolette

  Ranting that there was no way a respectful mate should treat a man of his stature in such a way. She had tried to reason with him, telling him that mortal women were different than immortal ones.

  That even though the Academy taught the girls about mates, that didn’t mean they would submit so easily. Besides, she asked him what he would do with a submissive female, surely there was no challenge for a man as great as Loki there. That was the only thing that seemed to calm him.

  Frigga pulled her robe on as the pounding invaded her thoughts. She was moving a little faster now, not wanting the others in the house to awaken. There would be complete and utter chaos if the three warriors awoke to this racket.

  Her eyes shot to the clock on her night table and she sighed. Frigga hoped that whoever was banging on the door had a good reason for doing so at six am. Or else they were going to see a side of her others rarely saw.

  “I’m coming.” She called as she came down the darkened steps. Her voice usually sounded like bells, but now it rasped with loss of sleep.

  Pulling the door open her eyes met Savannah’s frantic ones. The young mortal was shaking and crying. It looked as if she had run all the way there, Frigga looked past her to the driveway and noticed her mustang sitting there. This had Frigga assuming that something was wrong with either Chantelle or Emma for her to be this upset.

  As she motioned Savannah into the living room, she noticed that her own hands were shaking. Too many worst case scenarios were running through her mind. There were too many things that could have transpired in the time she hadn’t seen Chantelle.

  Frigga sat her down hoping she would calm down enough to speak. She handed her some tissues.

  Savannah accepted them and began to quiet her sobbing. Tears weren’t going to make what she had to say any easier so what were they good for? Not a damn thing.

  She sat there looking at her hands, trying for all she was worth to think straight. When she had taken off to get Frigga it had seemed like a good idea. She thought that if anyone could convince Chantelle to take care of herself it was the woman before her. But the longer she sat there the stupider she felt.

  Hell, Savannah didn’t even know if her being here would piss Chantelle off. Though what she did know was that as soon as she had seen Chantelle at the hospital tonight she had thought of Frigga. Well, maybe not Frigga. If Savannah was being completely honest she had thought of coming to Loki.

  There was something deep inside her soul that told her he would help fix her friend. There was no explaining it, no matter how she tried. She shouldn’t have been as trusting of a guy that wanted to spirit her best friend away, but she was. It was a part of her gift, she knew he really was Chantelle’s destined mate.

  “What is it Savannah? What’s wrong?”

  She wanted to answer her, but her throat worked as if nothing would come out. As if she had lost the ability to speak. Savannah’s eyes went wide as she heard three sets of footsteps descending the stairs. She should have known they would still be here. As soon as Bragi entered the living room she was off the couch and in his arms.

  “Shh now, tell us what has happened.”

  Bragi had sat down on the couch and drawn her into his arms. Savannah was normally a lot stronger than this. But for now she would lean on Bragi; she needed the comfort he was willing to give her.

  “It’s Emma, she’s dying.” She couldn’t say anymore as she buried her head in Bragi’s chest once more.

  “Mother, what does she mean, Emma is dying?” Loki’s jade eyes filled with sorrow.

  Savannah turned to face him her eyes ablaze, “As in she’s going to stop breathing, you jackass.”

  Loki stood taller then, “I know what dead means, mortal.” He turned his attention back to his mother, ignoring the quelling look Savannah shot him. And wondered why Bragi hadn’t jumped to his woman’s defense. “How did you not see this?”

  After the dream he had of Chantelle in the garden he hadn’t dreamt of her since. Loki found it odd that he really couldn’t recall the dream the way he had every other. Was that because she hadn’t really been present in the last dream? Instead she was somewhere caring for Emma, while he stood by and did nothing?

  “I did not know any of this would happen. You arriving so soon threw a wrench in the works.”

  A wrench? What the hell was that, Loki wondered. He wished his mother would not use sayings she picked up from mortals; they irked him to no end. Besides they were unfitting a woman of her stature.

  “There is no time for that now. We need to leave for wherever they are keeping Emma.” Hoder, who was usually level headed, was annoyed now as well.

  Loki knew they were talking about Hoder’s mate. From the look on his face, he knew his brother needed to find her. To spirit her away. He would help Hoder. Getting Emma to the best healer immortals had to offer. They were by far superior to the mortal doctors.

  Loki knew they needed to get them all back to Valhöll. There they could do more for her than anyone here. But he would have to convince Chantelle of it; a feat easier conceived than done.

  “Are you kidding me?” Savannah had turned to him, “Chantelle doesn’t want to see you. She’d kill me if she knew I was here.”

  Frigga felt an ache where her heart was. She had loved Chantelle like a daughter and now she refused to see them. She should have never kept the truth from her. But it was forbidden and the queen knew that to meddle where she wasn’t supposed to, would have disastrous consequences.

  “I will be going whether she likes it or not. I am sure Bragi will keep you safe from Chantelle.” Loki turned on his heel and left the room, Hoder following close behind.

  “Did she really say she did not want us there?”

  “No. But I know if I was in her shoes I wouldn’t. Being lied to by someone you trusted sucks.”

  Frigga agreed with Savannah. But what was done could not be undone. It was tough to understand the way fate worked. She could understand exactly why Chantelle was pushing them away. But it would never make it easier; the pain was there to stay.

  “I understand she is upset, but there was nothing I could do.” Frigga felt like a small child instead of a regal queen.

  “You understand nothing. She trusted you and you used her.” She was up off of Bragi’s lap, standing toe to toe with the immortal queen.

  Frigga was too appalled by her accusation to be angry over her rude behavior. “I did no such thing. My gift of foresight does not allow me to intervene.”

  “You have to be kidding me? So it’s standard practice to not inform the prince’s intended that her life is going to change?”

  “My hands were tied.”

  “I guess you thought that Loki spiriting her away was fine, so long as he was happy.” She moved toward the door, “I guess I will see you at the hospital.”

  Savannah turned and walked out of the house, leaving Frigga to her thoughts. Soon after Bragi left to find his brothers and the silence in the room was deafening.

  Frigga was trying to figure out what had happened here this morning. First off, Emma was dying. They would have to do something about that. She knew that Loki and Hoder would see to it that everything worked out.

  But something else troubled her. Bragi had claimed that Savannah was his Fatum Anima; she had heard him tell Savannah over the phone. But tonight her tears hadn’t moved him. And when Loki had snapped at her, Bragi hadn’t even flexed a muscle. That was not the standard behavior for an immortal male when their female was distressed. Something was off with her son and Savannah. Something that she knew was not going to turn out well. But Frigga wasn’t sure which one was going to end up broken.

  She rose from the couch, resolved to the fact that there were more pressing matters than Bragi and Savannah. Frigga would drive her sons to the only hospital in the area and leave them off. Then she would get to the bottom of things.

  Savannah’s accusations echoed around in her mind. Had she truly used Chantelle? At the time she didn�
��t think she was. But the longer she thought about it, the more Frigga realized it might seem that way. She would have felt the same way if it was her.

  A tear slipped out of her eyes as she realized she may have lost Chantelle forever. She had kept everything a secret for a just reason, but a shattered trust was hard to restore. Harder still than rebuilding a destroyed empire.

  “Are you ready, mother, we’re leaving now.”

  With a wave of her hand she was dressed. They all left the house and piled into her car. Which was a feat in and of itself, with three grown Aesir men.

  She put the key in the ignition, pausing, “Loki, I would advise you not to make a scene at the hospital.”

  He shot her a look that said he was old enough to handle Chantelle. That perhaps he would have done a better job than she had. That maybe if he had been told of the things going on they could have avoided all of this.

  “I will endeavor to act like a gentleman, if Chantelle chooses to behave.”

  Frigga shot him a knowing smile; a smile that set his teeth on edge. There was something his all-seeing mother wasn’t telling him about Chantelle. But he was in no mood to argue with her. Instead he settled himself in the seat and let his mind wander. Whatever his mother was hiding about his mate he would find out; sooner rather than later. If Loki had anything to say about it.

  Chapter 22:

  Soft hissing filled the room as the respirator breathed for Emma. Chantelle’s eyes followed the rise and fall of the pump as it fought to keep her sister alive. Fought to do what the lungs of a healthy person did day in and day out. Giving her breath, something most people took for granted.

  The room began to blur as her eyes filled to overflowing with tears. This couldn’t be happening, not after her last doctor’s visit. Dr. Berger had told her everything was fine; better than fine and now this.

  It had been only a few days since Emma had slipped into a coma. The night they had rushed her into the emergency room now seemed like a lifetime ago. It was nothing more than the beginning of a bad dream; one that Chantelle hoped she would awake from soon. There were times as she sat and watched Emma that she wanted to pinch herself to see if she would wake from this nightmare.

  It wasn’t that the hospital staff was incompetent; on the contrary, they had been wonderful. As soon as Emma had been brought in they had patched her head wound. It had taken only fifteen stitches. Slowly she had come awake and the doctor had decided to keep her overnight. Just for observation they had said.

  She had begged Chantelle to go home and get some rest. Her baby sister wouldn’t hear her protest of not wanting to leave her alone. If she remembered right Emma had rolled her eyes at her; something that the doctor advised against.

  Her baby sister’s humor wasn’t hurt from her fall; Emma told Chantelle to go home and take a shower, before she received a letter from the board of health. Seeing that she was well enough to joke, Chantelle agreed. Promising to be back as soon as she had showered and eaten something. With a kiss to the forehead she had left saying she would bring back some chocolate pudding for Emma. But things hadn’t gone to plan.

  As soon as Chantelle had stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel about herself, the phone started to ring. In that instant her world came crashing down around her.

  The voice on the phone belonged to the emergency room doctor. He was calling to tell her that her sister had slipped into a coma moments before. She had all but flown to the hospital after that call. Not caring if she was stopped by a cop for speeding, so long as she got to Emma fast.

  Since that night Chantelle had only left Emma’s bedside to change and eat; but only when Savannah would come and take her place. Her good friend never needed to sit there long and she often asked Chantelle if she kept a change of clothes in the car. Savannah question wasn’t far off. She had thrown most of her jeans and tops in the back of the car before she had rushed over that night. The nurses let her shower in the staff bathroom.

  Chantelle was sitting beside Emma now, one of her cold hands snug in her warm one. She was waiting for Savannah to bring her something to eat. Since Emma had ended up here, she didn’t bother to eat unless someone forced her to.

  Chantelle had no other family members close by, so the job of making her eat fell on Savannah. No matter how much she hounded her, Chantelle still only picked at her food. In the last four days she had dropped a dangerous amount of weight.

  None of that was important to her; the only thing that mattered was the dying girl in front of her. As Chantelle sat beside Emma, she wondered what she could have done differently. She had always made sure her sister went for her checkups and her chemo. She had gone as far as, getting Emma a tutor from the Academy, when the doctor had told them that going to school was out of the question.

  Shaking her head she let out a sorrow filled sigh. No amount of second guessing would help her sister now. All any of them could do was pray to whoever would listen. Chantelle just hoped that she hadn’t run out of favors with God. He had given her the strength to pick their lives up after their parents had died. He had even given her courage to face the cancer alongside Emma. Now she needed him to bring her sister back from the brink of death. And as she sat there she made a silent vow; Chantelle swore that she would forfeit her own happiness just to have her well again. None of it mattered without Emma anyway.

  Standing up, she stretched her legs they had grown stiff from sitting in the same position for so many hours. She smoothed back Emma’s hair, a tear sliding down her cheek.

  “If I could, I would switch places with you.” Her nervous fingers fussed over the itchy regulation blankets.

  She watched her baby sister lying before her as still as death. She was tiny and withered from being fed with only I.V. It seemed to Chantelle that her once vibrant presence was gone and it would never return.

  Chantelle felt her heart breaking all over again. She had buried their parents not four years ago and where that had hurt her deeply, it was nothing compared to this. Losing Emma now would crush her beyond repair.

  Emma had always been more like her child, than her sister. She had been almost nine when her parents had brought her baby sister home. From that cold January day on, Emma had been everything to Chantelle.

  She had fed her and rocked her to sleep. She was the one Emma would run to when a boo-boo needed to be kissed better. It was Chantelle’s bed she snuck into after a bad dream. And it was her arms she had wept into when they buried their parents.

  So why was it now, when Emma needed her most that she had failed her? Chantelle wanted to rage at the world. What purpose would the death of her sixteen year old sister serve? What crime had she committed that she would be cheated of life?

  “What good do all these damn fairy-tales serve? They make us hope for happily ever after and life just screws us over anyway.”

  Chantelle wanted so badly for Emma to answer her. She thought that maybe she could will a snarky response from her. What she wouldn’t give at that moment to hear her sister tell her that life didn’t hand you a happily ever after. You had to grab for it, with enough strength to keep a lion and yet soft enough to hold a bubble.

  “You do not mean that?” The rasp of his voice chilled her.

  Chantelle dropped Emma’s hand and spun around to face her unwanted guest. There in the doorway stood Loki. All the mischief had gone from his eyes and only sadness remained as he looked past Chantelle to the bed behind her.

  In that instant she forgot the promise she had made Emma. It was the look in his eyes that had her forgetting. Chantelle neither needed nor wanted his pity.

  She bristled, “I thought I told you to stay the hell away from us?”

  The door to the hospital room closed with a resounding click. Silence settled between them; a heaviness filling the air. The tension was thick and palpable.

  “Alas, I cannot. Your soul cries out for mine.” Loki stepped further into the room, “I would be remiss if I did not seek to comfort you.”


  Here he stood before his mate and she wouldn’t allow him to comfort her. It was his honor and right to care for Chantelle when she needed it. To be honest he needed the contact as much as she did.

  Loki felt her pain as if it were his own. It tore at his heart worse than a dagger or sword ever could. He knew that he would endure any torment the Council could come up with so long as Chantelle didn’t have to suffer.

  For a brief moment he battled with his inner beast. Loki’s instincts told him to claim her and stop all this senseless nonsense. Neither of them should suffer if the solution to their pain was obvious. The binding of their souls would seal them to each other. Once they were bound there would be nowhere for Chantelle to run. Loki would be able to follow the essence of her soul. Besides, once she accepted him as her chosen male she wouldn’t want to run.

  He knew that claiming her now would only push her further away. Chantelle would rage against such an act while her sister lay dying. With every ounce of will he had Loki rained in his beast.

  That didn’t mean that he wasn’t willing to show her just how much she meant to him. How much she made him feel, after centuries of emptiness. His little woman needed to know exactly what it was she gave to him.

  Chantelle watched, wide-eyed, as Loki stalked forward like a lone Timber wolf scenting his mate across the miles. She wanted to back away from him, but there was nowhere to go. Loki blocked the only exit and she wasn’t about to leave her sister with some villainous immortal.

  The second the thought flitted across her mind she regretted it. He’s not evil or malicious. Only misunderstood. For if Loki was truly without feeling then he would have bent her to his will and everything else be damned.

  Her heart ached with her harsh judgment of him. She felt unworthy of the necklace that hung about her neck. The owl that once felt light and welcoming was now no more than an albatross of guilt.

  Loki reached her then, standing before her like some fallen angel. His fingers slid over the bare skin of her arm. The moment his hand alighted on her skin, a tremor ran through her body. Heat pooled in her core at his mere touch.