Soulfire

by Juliette Cross

  “Why? Are you ashamed of me?”

  “Seriously? Of course not. I just think people might need more time to get used to the idea. I mean, how many mixed human-Morgon couples do you know?”

  “None.”

  “Well, you know one.”

  He glanced at me as we descended toward Emerald Isle Villas toward the parking lot. “Yes, I know one. And that’s all I care about. You’re all I care about.”

  I wound my arms tighter around his neck, utter joy fluttering in my chest. Not only were our hearts in sync, so were our thoughts. I pressed a suckling kiss right under his ear as we landed.

  “Mmm.”

  “You like that, don’t you?”

  He put me on my feet. “You know I do.”

  “I don’t think I’ll be sore tonight.”

  “No need to rush anything.” He planted a soft kiss at my temple. “We’ve got the rest of our lives.”

  I laughed, swelling with joy. Two girls pointed from their third-floor balcony. We walked across the lot to the main entrance. Since I’d been whisked away last night, I needed to get a key from the office manager to my apartment. Hand in hand, we strolled toward the entrance, sneaking glances at each other, love shining between us.

  I heard the sound of car doors slamming behind us right before a familiar voice called my name. “Jessen!”

  Demetrius and Aron approached. Lucius took a threatening step forward. I grabbed his arm to hold him. He angled his body, partly blocking me from view.

  An angry purple bruise wrapped Aron’s throat. Lucius tightened his hands into fists, his wings opening partway in a defensive posture. I knew whatever Aron told my family, it wasn’t the truth.

  “Don’t,” I whispered to Lucius, praying they didn’t do something to send Lucius into a blind rage. If they made one aggressive move toward me, it was all over.

  “Stop right there, Demetrius,” I shouted.

  My brother glanced at Lucius, noting the danger. He might be a chauvinistic jerk, but he wasn’t a fool. He raised his hands, signaling for Aron to stay still.

  “What do you want?” I asked. Voices murmured from people gathering on balconies in the villas at our back.

  Anger brimmed in his eyes and the tight lines of his face. Concern? Regret? “It’s time for you to come home.”

  Lucius’s muscles bunched under my hand. I held him harder, my hand circling his bicep.

  “No.” I shook my head.

  “Look, Father will forgive everything if you”—he glanced at Lucius then back at me, shifting his weight to the other foot in agitation—“if you leave him and come home.”

  “He’ll forgive me?” I laughed with disdain. “Well, I don’t forgive him. He would sell me into marriage like a piece of property, nothing more than a business deal to grow his almighty empire. And to a rapist at that.”

  Demetrius visibly flinched, shoulders tightening and eyes narrowing in Aron’s direction. I’d been the object of his scrutiny many times. I relished seeing it thrown at Aron.

  “Go ahead. Ask Aron about last night.”

  It was my brother’s turn to freeze, muscles rigid, eyes leveled on Aron who was shaking his head. The gathering crowd grew quiet behind us.

  “No, Demetrius. I’d never—it was a misunderstanding.”

  I moved alongside Lucius, clinging to his arm, willing him to stay put. I needed to get off this subject before all hell broke loose. I knew Lucius was imagining how he found me in the garden last night, rocketing his temper to a boiling point.

  “I won’t be returning to our parents’ house. Ever. It’s not my home anymore.” A truth I was shocked to realize didn’t hurt my heart as I’d thought it would.

  “Father will disown you.” Biting words from my brother, but his eyes held a plea. His body was a rigid line, unbendable—a bearing I’d seen a hundred times. He was his father’s son and would never accept the man beside me as family.

  Tears pooled in my eyes for the loss of him. Though he was a stubborn ass, he was my brother. And I loved him. “It doesn’t matter.”

  One of father’s expressions of disapproval crossed his face.

  I steeled myself against the pain of hurting him with the truth. “And God help you, Demetrius, if you keep following in Father’s footsteps and turn out like him…”

  He physically blanched, paling at my words. I’d expected a sneer of disgust, not the clear gaze of someone lost or trapped.

  Aron stepped forward. Corded muscle bunched beneath my fingers where I held onto Lucius. He tried to shrug me aside, but I knew if I let go he would launch himself at Aron and finish the job he’d started last night. Demetrius froze, as if he knew the slightest movement would trigger the man at my side to unleash the rage simmering beneath the surface. Hatred burned in Aron’s eyes, mirroring the same expression from Lucius.

  Aron glanced at my arm as I held Lucius tight, inching forward. He hooked one hand casually in his back pocket, the other he reached toward me, palm-out—a disarming gesture that belied the anger simmering in his expression. “Jessen, you must know it was never a business deal to me.” He spoke in a low tone, tight with restrained emotion. “I will take care of you.”

  I wanted to laugh, but the dark, brutal sound rumbling from Lucius kept me quiet and still.

  “Don’t ever speak to her again.” Fury vibrated in the air. Heat radiated from his body, burning under my fingertips. Electricity sparked around us, the same way it did that night at Acropolis.

  People murmured behind us. Tension wrapped us like a fist squeezing tight. None of us wanted to back away first. My brother must’ve realized the escalating danger, the only one thinking logically at the moment. “Let’s go,” he told Aron. “My sister has made her choice.”

  “No,” Aron ground out. He’d dropped his hand, his thumb twitching nervously against his thigh. His gaze slid from me to Lucius, a frightening glare of malice and contempt. “You’re nothing but an animal. An abomination. You’re not fit to wipe her feet.”

  Someone gasped behind us. Lucius was a fraction away from slaughtering Aron, and maybe my brother with him, rage roiling off his body in a tangible ripple.

  I tugged on Lucius’s arm. “Let’s go,” I whispered low, but my words weren’t reaching him. He was locked on his target. Demetrius stepped toward Aron as if to manhandle him into leaving. The second Demetrius took hold of Aron’s arm, still twitching against his leg, he pulled a silver-plated gun from the back of his jeans and aimed it directly at Lucius. An audible gasp swelled from the crowd behind us.

  “A Volt gun! Are you out of your fucking mind!” my brother yelled, yanking Aron’s arm. “I said no force!”

  Acid churned in my stomach. Bile rose in my throat. Certain death was aimed at Lucius. And the man with the trigger hated him with every breath he sucked into his lungs.

  Aron shoved Demetrius so hard, he stumbled and fell sideways to the pavement. Aron’s gun and stormy gaze steadied on Lucius, though he spoke directly to me. “Come with me, Jessen, or I’ll kill him. I’ll let him live as long as you leave with me right now.” I could only imagine what he planned to do to me once he got me alone. Like hell I would.

  Lucius flared his wings to full span, breaking free of my hold. I recognized Aron’s deadly intent, knowing if his aim hit home, I would lose the man I loved. Before Lucius could shove me aside out of harm’s way, I flung myself in front of him the second Aron pulled the trigger. Meant for his heart, the shot landed squarely on my right shoulder. Someone screamed from the watching crowd. A jolt of vibrating pain slammed into me. I collapsed to the ground. Curled on my side, I rode the waves of voltage, feeling like blades of fire stabbing through my veins.

  “Aron! You shot my sister!”

  I squeezed my eyes shut in pain, the sounds of a scuffle behind me. Then Aron cried out.

  I heard Lucius’s wings snap and the roar of blasting fire. He erected a wall of fire between them and us. Angry flam
es of orange and red snaked ten feet tall. When my brother tried to move around it, the wall shifted unnaturally, flaring bright, obeying its master’s will.

  Nausea churned in my stomach. The voltage blast had rattled my insides. Made to kill a Morgon, the blast could kill a human, too, stopping the heart with a direct hit. Somehow, mine was still beating, though my vision clouded.

  “She’s my sister. Please. I need to see her!”

  He gathered me in his arms and faced my brother through leaping flames. “She is my wife!” Growling words. He used the human term for our bond to make it clear to Demetrius where I belonged. “If any of you try to harm her, speak to her, or come within even a block of her again, I will blast you into a pile of ash at my feet and blow your fucking dust to the wind. It won’t matter if she begs for your life, because I won’t spare you again. Am I making myself absolutely clear?”

  Demetrius must’ve made some sign of understanding because I felt the now-familiar bend of Lucius’s knees before he took flight. With a jerk of his chin, a section of the firewall arced out, covering dome-like over Aron, pressing down slowly. The last thing I saw before my head slumped to his shoulder was my brother beating the flames with his jacket. The last thing I heard was Aron’s screams.

  Then we were in the air. I tried not to move, but the pain continued to throb. “It burns.”

  “I know. Hang on.” He pressed his lips against my temple.

  I gripped one arm around his shoulder, the other limp from the pain radiating from the blast injury, burning its way through my skin. I whimpered.

  “It’ll be alright,” he murmured. “The pain will be gone soon, love. Hang on.”

  We were flying at a dizzying speed, despite my injury. “Thank you,” I murmured.

  “For what?”

  “For not killing my brother.”

  “It would’ve caused you more pain.”

  “I’m not your wife though. Not yet.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “We haven’t had a wedding.”

  He gazed down at me as he flew, his wings knowing where to take me. “Soulfire binds us beyond any ceremony. You gave yourself to me, and I gave myself to you. This is all that is needed for a heartbonding. If a ceremony will make you happy, it’s the first thing we’ll do when you’re better.”

  He was sure I would heal, giving me courage, for the throbbing pain was becoming more unbearable by the second.

  “We humans like our traditions.” I whispered the words, my voice sounding distant.

  He smiled, pressing his lips to my temple again. “My human will have whatever her heart desires.”

  We landed hard. He was calling my name when I slipped into unconsciousness.

  * * * *

  I awoke to a chilling sensation numbing my right shoulder. “Ow!”

  Shakara Icewing hovered over me, her green eyes wide and dilated. “Oh, sorry! I know it stings, but it won’t last long.”

  Someone squeezed my hand. I turned my head to find Lucius peering down. I was in his bedroom. Our bedroom.

  He gave me a reassuring smile, though the lines around his mouth and eyes were tight. He nodded at Shakara. “I think one more time.”

  “Yes. Once more.”

  She inhaled a deep breath. Icy blue flames streamed from her mouth onto my bare shoulder. I flinched away at the fierce burn of cold. Lucius held me still with a comforting but firm grip on my other shoulder. I gasped. A prickly sensation tingled from my wound, spreading chilly adrenaline through my veins.

  “What—how—”

  Shakara ended the stream of blue flame, smiling sweetly. “I think that’ll do it.”

  “What did you do?”

  Lucius brushed the back of his knuckles along my cheek. “It’s coldfire.”

  “Coldfire? I’ve never heard of it. I don’t understand.”

  Shakara wrapped a gauzy bandage over my wound and shoulder, taping it with medical adhesive. “We don’t share all of our gifts with humans. It can be used against us.”

  “Like a Volt gun,” I said, glancing at Lucius. The fire had obeyed Lucius, and I wondered if this was a power of the Nightwing clan only. We had lots to discuss later.

  Lucius nodded. “Shakara is one of the Icewing clan. They have a special gift in using coldfire.”

  “It heals?” It must, because my wound tightened as if stitched by hand. The sting long-gone.

  “Yes,” said Shakara. “We are healers, but only of flesh wounds. We can’t heal internal wounds or injuries of the mind. Also”—she paused, lowering dark lashes over her eyes—“it will leave a mark.”

  I nodded, swallowing hard, and tried not to imagine the ugly, blistering scar I would carry over most of my shoulder. “Scars mean nothing.” I turned my head back to Lucius. “A small price to pay.”

  I lifted my hand to his face, tracing the line of his granite jaw. He closed his eyes, turned into my palm, and pressed a tender kiss to the center of my hand. Shakara excused herself and left the room.

  “Don’t ever do that again.” His voice grew rough with tortured pain.

  “What? Next time I should just step aside and watch you die? I don’t think so. I’d do it again.” The swirl of emotion deepening his gaze flew straight to my heart. “You’re my mate, remember? There is no life without you.”

  Lucius stretched himself out alongside my body, draping one of his legs across mine in a possessive, protective move. Leaning on one elbow, he cupped my cheek. He brushed his lips over mine in a slow, sensuous caress, making sure he had my attention. He did.

  “Then I will spend our long, happy, prosperous, fertile life together ensuring you never have to.”

  “Fertile?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” His hand wandered to my hip, squeezing gently.

  “You like kids?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “You want kids?”

  “Lots.” His large hand spread wide, long fingers splaying possessively over the place where I would one day hold his child.

  Children! A thrill shot through me. “Do you think they’ll be Morgon?”

  “Undoubtedly. Morgon genes are strong. Very dominant.”

  “Undoubtedly.” I grinned.

  His lips brushed over mine, his tongue lining the seam, then pressed deeper.

  Before I fell into a sensual abyss, he pulled away suddenly, a frown creasing his gorgeous face. “That doesn’t bother you, does it?”

  I had to refocus to remember what we were talking about. I smiled. “No. Of course not. But if we’re to have lots of kids, we better get started. Or at least practice.”

  “Mmm. Practice. Yes.” Luscious lips smiled against mine. “Lots.”

  Chapter 13

  The two priests—Morgon and human—laughed over their pints of beer. The human priest was dressed in a floor-length, black cassock—a portly, friendly-looking fellow. The gray-winged Morgon was garbed in snow-white robes, his long, silver-white hair pulled back in a neat tail. Natural in one another’s company, they looked like they’d performed dozens of inter-species weddings together.

  “Not a bad turnout for the first public mixed-marriage ceremony,” Lucius commented at my elbow. “Still, sorry your mother and sister didn’t show though.” A comforting hand rested at the small of my back.

  Pain twisted my heart. “I knew they wouldn’t. Father probably burned the invitation and confined them to the house under guard watch, lock and key, knowing today was the day.”

  Lucius rubbed his hand soothingly in slow trails up and down my back. As it was, Moira’s comm device had already been disconnected. It cut me to the heart, but I knew he couldn’t lock my sister up forever. She would find a way to reach me.

  Lorian stood on Lucius’s left, a silent supporter. I liked my new brother-in-law. Something wild flitted behind those otherworldly eyes. Hell, every Nightwing I knew held a look of danger in his bearing, though Lorian seemed more like an uncaged animal, res
tless and watching.

  The head of the family stepped before me—my new father-in-law, Adicus. He took my hand in his. “You are a lovely addition to our family. And though circumstances may be difficult, you are now one of us.”

  He didn’t need to clarify. I was the daughter of his chief, human rival. And yet, he still accepted me. He congratulated Lucius, nodded to Lorian, and moved on.

  “Why the frown, love?”

  “He was pretty intense when he said I was one of you.”

  Lucius threaded his fingers through mine. “Soulfire binds you to me as if we were blood. And also to the rest of the family. Therefore, you are undeniably one of us.”

  A warmth spread through me. Though I’d lost my own family, I’d gained another one, a fiercely loyal fight-to-the-death-for-me family. Lucius pressed a kiss to my scarred shoulder as he’d been doing constantly since we’d removed the bandage.

  I wore a halter-style, white satin dress to bare my mark to the world, a mark that tied me even more to my Morgon clan. Shakara hadn’t told me what kind of scar would be left from coldfire. I had learned later the pattern differs for everyone.

  Beginning from the point of entry of the voltage blast, a pinwheel pattern spiraled outward in what appeared to be iridescent scales. My skin felt as smooth as the rest of me. I liked the way the design shimmered under the lights, like a pale kaleidoscope of color, branding me as a Morgon’s mate. Shakara had explained to me the scale-like appearance was the same for every coldfire healing, remnants of their dragon, but the color and pattern always differed. Like a snowflake. The Morgons, who greeted me, smiled or nodded their approval upon seeing the mark, knowing precisely how I’d gotten it.

  Ella walked up at that second, her eyes flicking to my scar.

  “Jess, I have to go, but congratulations again on your, uh, on your—”

  I laughed at her struggle to know what to call our union. It seemed quite a few still didn’t know the correct way to treat a mixed marriage or heartbonding.

  “Thank you.” I put her out of her misery and hugged her. “I’m so glad you came.”

  “I wish I could stay longer but mom thinks I’m at the library studying for finals.” She rolled her eyes.