Restoration

by Randi Cooley Wilson

  “It will be as if you never existed in my world. Your part in this . . . is over,” I declare.

  “Deal.”

  My eyes shift to Nassa. Her jaw is tight. After a stubborn pause, she nods her head.

  “Gallagher, I need you to teleport us to the light castle, so I can make the request.”

  “At your service, buttercup.” He smirks and wraps his arms around her waist.

  Within seconds, they vanish, only to reappear moments later. The sorceress’ shoulders rise and fall with a heavy and unhappy sigh. “Aigle has agreed.”

  I purse my lips, hoping I made the right decision. “Thank you.”

  Without warning, Asmodeus’s skin stops charring and his overall health improves. Slowly, he rises to his feet and a small smile plays on the sides of his lips. “You are a formidable adversary, daughter of Heaven.”

  “It was a team effort.” I cut an appreciative side-glance to Nassa.

  Asmodeus straightens himself before pushing his hair back with a steady hand. “It would seem then our time together is over—for now. Consider my end of the agreement fulfilled.”

  I dip my chin and Asmodeus disappears. I turn to face the group, cross my arms, and exhale a relieved breath. “One demon king down. That just leaves a half-demon and half-gargoyle, a gargoyle king, the dark army, and Lucifer himself,” I point out.

  Gage lifts his brows. “You’re planning to take them out one by one, love?”

  “Yes.”

  “Ambitious,” Gage responds with a lightness to his tone.

  “Or stupid,” Nassa argues with a snort.

  I take a deep, cleansing breath. Asher shifts and his irate gaze collides with mine. There’s darkness behind his eyes, an intensity that both scares and enthralls me.

  “What do you think? Ambitious or stupid?” I ask him.

  “I think . . . my opinion didn’t matter to you twenty minutes ago, siren, so why the hell does it matter to you now?” he spits out. “Let’s get the fuck out of here. I’m done.”

  My stomach drops at the feeling Asher is done with more than just this realm.

  Chapter 7

  Silence

  MY GAZE ROAMS OVER THE ROOM before landing on Asher. His eyes darken when they lift and lock onto mine. My skin tightens and burns under his scrutiny. It’s amazing how he can destroy me with just a cool caress of his unreadable expression.

  I study his hands as they clench and unclench in aggravation before an angry Fiona pops into my sightline. The plump woman has her small hands on her full hips and her pale mouth is pressed into a disappointed line. Crap. I brace myself for the inevitable lecture.

  The alpha of the Pishyakan clowder pins me with her yellow-green cat eyes. “I don’t know whether ta hug ye or swat yer behind, lass,” she scolds, her brogue thick.

  Asher’s mouth turns up in a smug, agreeable smile. Damn gargoyle. I open my mouth to defend my actions but Fiona cuts me a harsh glance, which silences me immediately.

  “Don’t ye dare try en argue wit me,” she warns. One of Fiona’s hands comes off her hips and she wildly motions toward Keegan, Asher and Gage as they observe our interaction. “I raised dese here hoodlums, en I won’t tolerate ye’re mouthin’ off ta me. Aye?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I mutter.

  She sighs in displeasure. “As much as I luv ye, lass, I am very disappointed in ye, Eve. Ta put ye’reself en danger, fer me daughter, ’twas brave, but very stupid,” she reprimands. “Yer like one of me own now. Do ye really think me heart would survive dat type o’ sacrifice? One child fer another?”

  When I don’t answer immediately, she begins to pace and mutter crossly under her breath in Gaelic. My heart plummets at her flustered state, knowing I caused it.

  I frown. “I didn’t think about it like that, Fi. All I was focused on was that I had a way to save Galena, so I took it,” I explain. “It was never my intent to hurt you. I just couldn’t face breaking your heart, knowing we could have saved her and did nothing.”

  The shifter’s shoulders sag. “Yer age makes ye unwise. Me heart, ’tis broken. Galena’s choices will not go unpunished. However, when Asher told me o’ yer actions, lass, ’twas da final hammer dat smashed me heart inta pieces.”

  My lips part at her sternness and my demeanor becomes crestfallen.

  “If something happened ta ye, I would have never forgiven meself. ’Tis time ye start thinking wit’ yer head, instead o’ yer heart, because if ye don’t, ’tis not only me heart dat will be broken,” she cautions, stepping around me furiously.

  My gaze locks onto Asher’s. “We’re done,” he snips before shifting his attention to Keegan. “Let’s go help Fiona and the rest of the clan deal with Galena, yeah?”

  Keegan averts his eyes and simply nods his agreement, following Asher out of the room.

  “You all right, love?” Gage’s voice breaks my contemplation.

  “I won’t apologize for what I did. It was the right thing to do, Gage.”

  He lifts his palms in surrender. “I never said it wasn’t.”

  “It’s too bad not everyone shares your sentiment.”

  Gage flashes me a devastating smile. “Asher likes to brood. The dark prince is just pissed that you put yourself in danger. I have no doubt he will grant you forgiveness, later.”

  I shrug, pretending disinterest. “Or not. Maybe I don’t need his highness’s pardon.”

  He stares me down with amusement. “Or not.” He shrugs. “Fiona is right about one thing, you need to start thinking with both your head and heart. Using only one will get you killed.”

  “Meaning?” I inquire.

  Stormy eyes slide their focus to the glass pane of the window, watching the sorceress standing near the pool. “Meaning, like it or not, you are one half of a mated pair. You now have two hearts and souls to consider when you make decisions. Not just one. In the future, it would be wise for you to take a reflective moment and consider the dark prince in your choices before you jump into action. I assume you’d want him to show you the same type of respect.”

  “What if I can’t always do that?”

  His gaze slides back to mine. “Then there is no need to be mated to him, is there?”

  Silence is like a dark omen. It claws away at your psyche, gnawing on each and every one of your insecurities. Mutely, the stillness judges you until you can’t sense potential danger because everything is so contrived you become unsure if it really exists outside of your consciousness.

  Asher storms into the family room, slamming the double doors and locking them behind him. I swallow, questioning whether or not he’s a mirage. Since returning hours ago from dealing with Fiona and Galena, he has yet to speak a word to me.

  The depth of his silence is both unnerving and mystifying. At the moment, his presence darkens the room like a shadow. My eyes slide shut involuntarily as the intimidating gargoyle prowls toward me.

  The intense level of his fury emanates off of him in dangerous currents, like a warning. When I regain courage, I open my lids and slide my gaze past his, ignoring the throbbing sound vibrating in my ears from my unease.

  Once Asher approaches me, he cages me in with his body, placing his palms on either side of me, allowing them to rest on the pool table, which at the moment is the only thing keeping me upright. Heat radiates off his body, commanding my attention.

  There is a pained, desperate ache in his expression. I go to speak but stop when Asher lets out a disapproving groan. “There is nothing you can say in this moment, siren, that will take away the panic and complete fucking terror you caused by offering yourself to Asmodeus. So don’t speak.”

  I flinch at the statement. He just used a tone that I’m sure will haunt me for weeks to come. Cold, stormy eyes challenge me to try to say something in my own defense. I don’t. Instead, I bite my tongue and permit Asher’s cool stare to go straight through me.

  I remind myself that this is what we do. Our relationship is a game of chess, built off strategy and p
ower. We both hold our positions, awaiting the other’s next move. His tongue darts out, lightly running over his perfect lips, and I watch with morbid fascination.

  Sensing the shift in my emotions, Asher’s body takes on a cool, confident sense of arrogance, knowing what his closeness is stirring inside of me. Damn him for always having the upper hand in this game. Crap. I need to get my hormones under control.

  I shift, aware of every inch of his body and the minute space of air hanging between us. Each of my nerve endings is alive, and the mate mark on my lower back pulses with anticipation. I wish he’d stop looming over me and causing desire to run wildly through my veins.

  “Don’t,” falls from my lips in an odd whispered plea.

  “Don’t what, siren?” His voice is ragged and thick as his hot breath caresses my lips.

  Asher’s brows lift in a dare for me to respond. Heat pools between my thighs and I have to press them together to stop the ache he’s setting off. Awareness of my discomfort becomes evident in his expression, and with a wicked smirk, he lifts and skims a finger over my neck.

  The calculated touch is done with a gentleness that doesn’t match his hard expression. The ease of his finger’s trace causes me to bite back a whimper while need pulses violently inside of me. My guard drops, allowing him to move. He steps between my legs and presses his lower body into mine. His indigo eyes are demanding as they study my face, nonverbally asking me to submit to him.

  I won’t.

  My chest rises and falls with difficulty because he looks completely ticked off at my lack of surrender, which makes breathing strenuous. I stand firm. Defiantly not giving in to him. Asher’s features harden and his eyes cloud over with resentment.

  “I know you’re pissed, but I made the right decision,” I manage to whisper.

  He doesn’t answer. I clench my teeth at his silence, frustrated that even in his current emotional state, he gets to me. My gaze roams over his intimidating stance. With each passing second, his eyes darken and look even angrier. I keep my chin high, not allowing his intensity to scare me.

  “You can let me protect you, of your own free will, or you can keep fighting me, forcing my hand. I couldn’t give a fuck either way. You’d do well to remember—you. Are. Mine,” he says with a harsh bite, and my eyes snap to his in annoyance at his cruelty.

  He gives me no time to process his words. One moment I am thinking of a screw you retort, the next I am being seated none too gently on the pool table with Asher hovering over my wound-up body. Large hands rest on the wooden sides of the table, preventing any movement by me, yet allowing his upper body enough space so it doesn’t touch mine.

  Desire burns in his eyes, deepening the hue. My heart begins to race when he trains his focus on my lips. I feel him draw nearer, hyperaware of how close he is to me, and at the same time, frustrated that no portion of our bodies are touching.

  After what feels like an eternity, Asher’s forehead meets mine. I can feel his soft, intense breaths across my lips. Instinctively, I raise my chin to seek out his mouth. A second before our lips touch, he pulls back, gliding his nose along my cheek instead.

  I tremble from the almost-contact. The tip of his nose slides to my neck, where he stops over my pulse and inhales a rough breath. I shudder, overcome with sensations.

  Suddenly, he grips my thighs almost painfully, forcing my legs open so he can push further in between them. One of his large hands lifts and grips the back of my neck possessively, tightening while he coerces me down so I’m laying on the pool table.

  I’m not sure who moves first, but our mouths crash into one another, and all the desire I’ve been feeling for him swirls and takes control of my traitorous body. I kiss Asher so hard that for a brief moment, I believe I might actually be able to take away all the pain and darkness in him. He returns the kiss. Hard. Molding my mouth against his, deepening the kiss.

  Frustrated, I cling to him, digging my hands deeply into his back, trying to pull him to me because he refuses to move closer. His body just lingers above mine, without contact. After a few moments, Asher takes control again, forcing his tongue inside my mouth, without reprieve. My lips fight to keep up with his pace and punishment.

  The hand clutching my thigh shifts, gliding with ease across my throat before pressing lightly. The gentle squeeze causes me to withdraw my lips from his and draw in a sharp gasp. I’m overwhelmed by the smell and the taste of him.

  The need to feel his touch on my skin causes me to release a throaty, deep, uncontrollably needy sound. In response, Asher’s lower body pushes heavily into mine, pressing so tightly that I can’t decipher where he begins and I end.

  My head falls back, hitting the felt with pleasure, and my eyes slide closed. I’m exhaling with such ragged force I can’t make out what is a pant and what is a moan.

  Asher’s breath is coming harder when he releases his hold on my throat, grabbing my wrists with one hand and pinning them above my head. His other hand drops out of sight, and suddenly, his expression shifts from desire-filled to smug and triumphant. What in the—

  The sound of metal clanking breaks through my lust-induced state, and I drag my eyes to the set of handcuffs he’s securing my wrists together with. Where the hell did he get those? Shifting my now-attached arms, he latches the cuffs to something on the table.

  I level him with a glare and try to wiggle free. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Wordlessly, Asher bends over me, dropping the lightest kiss on my lips before gently sucking on my bottom lip. With the softest touch, his hands find their way under my tank top and trace a path over my breasts before lowering. My eyelids flutter at the contact.

  A few moments later, I feel his fingers slip into my cotton shorts, circling the slick skin before pressing into me. My stare meets his. All I can do is absorb the passion in his eyes as he watches my breathless reaction. “I love you, siren, but I won’t continue to be disregarded.”

  With each intense movement he makes, my body rises and falls into the sensations. Asher’s gaze slides over every inch of my glistening body. I’m just about to fall over the edge when he removes his presence from inside of me, leaving me empty and aching for him.

  I exhale an aggravated breath in protest. “Asher?” His name is a curious question on my lips while he straightens his stance.

  Asher’s expression becomes withdrawn, and his eyes meet mine with nothing but a serious glare. “It’s fucking frustrating, isn’t it? To be right there, on the edge emotionally, needing something from someone you love, yet they won’t give it to you. It’s no fun when you beg for something from a person who is supposed to love you with their entire soul. I want you to remember this the next time you exclude me from your brilliant plans and ignore my pleas,” he states cruelly.

  My breathing is rough as I study his face, angry at the way he’s decided to teach me a lesson. “So you’re just going to leave me here? Chained to the table? Exposed?”

  Asher rights himself as if nothing happened. He smiles warmly, and I suddenly feel very stupid as I take deep breaths to calm my body. “Now you know what it’s liked to be exposed, siren. Completely. Fucking. Exposed. Left for everyone to witness you bleeding out while the person you love turns their back on you. Welcome to my hell,” he replies calmly.

  “You have to be fucking kidding me?” I mumble.

  “When you’re ready to be truly mated, come find me,” he adds before leaving the room.

  “I’ll find you all right, Asher St. Michael, and when I do, you better run,” I shout after him.

  Once my body has calmed down, I try to wiggle my arms free. Unfortunately, whatever Asher attached me to isn’t budging. Seething, I continue to attempt to free myself for what feels like an eternity before I hear the doors of the family room open again.

  I prepare myself, waiting for the asshole to approach and apologize so I can kick him in the balls. Only the gargoyle that comes into view isn’t Asher. Crap. My heart sinks, almost painfully, and
I internally cringe at the set of blue eyes staring at me in entertained curiosity.

  “Eve,” he greets in a formal tone.

  “Keegan,” I blow out in annoyance.

  He clears his throat awkwardly. “Asher stopped me in the hallway and mentioned something about you needing assistance.”

  I wiggle my handcuffed arms to make a point. “He and I aren’t seeing eye to eye.”

  Keegan dips his chin. “That much is obvious.”

  The stony protector walks around the table and lifts my arms off the hook they were placed on. I sit up as he produces a key, unlocking and removing the metal shackles. In a rare show of kindness, Keegan rubs my wrists, then he refastens the metal together and sticks the set into his back pocket. I wouldn’t have pegged Keegan and McKenna as the type.

  I eye him, still guarded. “You conveniently had a key . . . to handcuffs?”

  Keegan leans next to me, against the pool table. He crosses his large arms and fixates on a spot on the wall in front of us. “I’ve had to restrain Kenna a few times.” He shrugs. “Nothing major. A wall. Some furniture here and there,” he trails off.

  My eyebrows lift. “Wow. That’s . . . weird.”

  His brow arches. “Says the girl handcuffed to the pool table by her mate.”

  My head falls forward. “Touché.”

  “I normally make it a point to not get involved in my brother’s love life, however, it would seem that Asher’s pretty ticked off this time around. Want to discuss it?”

  I rub the fading red on my wrists and right myself. “Oh, you know, I offered myself to a demon lord in exchange for healing a shape-shifting panther, without first discussing the plan, of course, with my supernatural gargoyle protector and mate. Just another day in my world.”

  Keegan makes an odd sound in the back of his throat. It almost sounds like a chuckle.

  “Eve, part of being mated to an alpha gargoyle is that he needs to be in control of the protector bond. I know you’re still young, but normal relationships consist of two people who are open and honest with one another. You’ve got to keep him in the loop, and when applicable, allow him to lead. Otherwise, he’s going to chain you to more than just the pool table,” he points out.