by Aline Hunter
“And no magik can be used?”
“No. It causes the portal connected to the realm to move to another location.”
“We have to bring the child here. He’s important.” Her father stopped, placed his hands on his desk, and looked at her. “I’m going to need you to confer with an artist to sketch a map. I would allow you to guide us yourself, but considering everything that has occurred, you could turn on us. You understand that, don’t you?”
She tried not to squirm as her skin started to crawl. More lies. Her father was using the same tactic he always did—luring her in, using her eagerness to please as his weapon.
Nodding slowly, she responded, “I understand.”
He smiled, and she wondered why she had never seen through it before now. She could never truly tell if the man was happy or simply being cordial. The curving of his lips and the flash of his teeth were always the same.
“And the traitors you spoke of. Who are they?”
“I don’t know their names. I only know they exist.”
His smile disappeared. “I’m going to need more than that.”
“I overheard Bridon.” She fidgeted under her father’s scrutiny. “He said there were Lycae at Norvallen who reported back to him.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Fates, was she that bad a liar? “I wouldn’t believe me either,” she answered smoothly. “It seemed ludicrous, but if it’s true, I knew it was best we discuss things in private.”
He narrowed his eyes, gauging her answer. “That’s a valid point.”
“I really need something to settle my nerves.” She thanked the gods that the statement wasn’t another lie, giving her credibility. “Would you like a drink?”
“It’s a bit early in the morn for alcohol, don’t you think?”
“The last few days have been difficult.”
He considered her for a moment and pointed at the decanters across the room. “I’ll take a scotch.”
Her legs shook as she walked to the small bar in the corner, and she hoped her father contributed it to everything that had happened in the past couple of hours. She’d already pulled the deadly capsule from her pocket, so it wasn’t difficult to slide it into the scotch when she poured her father’s drink. She swirled it around slightly and made her own. For herself, she chose some of the wine kept at the back of the rack.
When she turned to walk back, she saw that her father had taken his seat behind his desk. She sat his drink in front of him and returned to the recliner, struggling not to stare at his glass. So many times she’d seen him take his scotch and toss it back. If only he would do that now, everything would be over.
Her father laced his fingers together and peered across the oak desk that had been in their family for generations. “Of everything you’ve shared, there is one thing that confuses me.”
She studied the glass in her hands. “And that would be?”
“I’ve never met my Fated, but I’ve seen how it affects the pairs in our pack. The loyalty is stronger than any bond I’ve ever seen and is far stronger than the ties to the pack or a fealty to an alpha. So how is it that you’ve managed to forsake your other half to come to me to divulge this information?”
A surge of apprehension made her stomach knot. She couldn’t abandon her other half. Coming here had created an enormous void in her soul that she couldn’t have possibly fathomed. Bridon’s long wait for her rebirth had to have been agonizing. She wasn’t sure how he’d survived it for so long. She’d only left him a few hours ago, but it felt like days. There was no way she would last centuries without him. Since their union, he’d become the very air that she breathed.
“It wasn’t easy.” She forced the thoughts of her Fated from her mind. “I had to force myself to come here.”
“This is the source of my confusion. You never should have been able to come here, no matter how deep your devotion to me. I think you have an ulterior motive.” He lifted his glass, and she held her breath. He studied the scotch as he swirled the liquid inside the crystal and brought it to his nose. “Do you want to know what I think?” He looked past the glass in his hand. “I think that you are in love with your Fated. I think you have discovered that you cannot live without him.” He wrapped his fingers around his glass, and she saw the spark of fury that came to his eyes. “I think you came here to kill me.”
She moved just in time to avoid the crystal container he threw at her. The tainted contents connected with the back wall, but she didn’t have time to dwell on the loss. Her father was already advancing on her. Left with no other option, she launched her wineglass at him and moved to the open area of his study. It wasn’t going to be a fair or equal fight. He was far older, stronger, and better trained than her.
When he saw that she wouldn’t drop to her knees and beg, he laughed. “Do you honestly think you can take me on, you ungrateful little bitch?”
Knowing she fought for more than herself, she snarled, “I’m going to try.”
Her wolf rose, coming to life within her. She welcomed her bestial half, aware she would need the extra strength if she wanted to stay alive. As the man who gave her life stepped around the desk, she realized he would have no qualms about taking it away.
“I know what you did to Micah.” She crouched and prepared to defend herself.
He didn’t stop, steadily approaching her. “Is that so?”
“You had him killed—your own son and heir. That’s how I know you’d do the same thing to your grandson. You’d murder all of us if it would suit your purposes.”
“You’re right.” He cracked his neck, and she saw his own wolf appear through the shifting of his eyes. “To retain control of the pack, I’ll do whatever it takes.”
He lunged at her, and she rolled to the left, avoiding his balled fists. She willed her claws to lengthen and lashed out at him, slashing deep wounds into his back. He howled and pivoted, facing her. His facial features started to change, and she moved back until her feet touched the edge of a bookshelf against the side wall. If he allowed his wolf to rise, this would be over within seconds.
“What’s the matter, old man?” She provoked him, hoping he would take the bait. “Is a girl too much for your human form to handle?”
This time when he came at her, she waited until the last second to move. He hit the bookshelves, and it toppled on top of him, crashing to the floor. She rushed to the other side of the room as he struggled to get free and searched around for any kind of weapon that could assist her. Her father’s ominous growl rent the air, and the bookshelf heaved. She watched, eyes wide, as he balanced the furniture on his shoulders and arched his back. The wood broke into multiple pieces, sending the remaining volumes on the shelves crumbling to the floor.
“You’re a quick little shit, aren’t you?” He dusted off his clothing before he unfurled his fists and allowed his claws to slip past the tips of his fingers. “That means I’ll break your legs first.”
She gazed frantically around the room. With the books all over the floor, it would be too easy to slip and fall, thereby giving him an advantage. The area behind the desk was too closed in. She couldn’t rush for cover or dodge him if he came at her. Adrenaline pumped in her system, her heartbeat so fast, she could hear it throbbing in her ears. There was nothing left to do but engage him.
Gods help her.
They crashed into each other when he came at her. Some of the slashes of his claws she managed to avoid. Others she couldn’t. Blood streamed down her sides, coating her shirt. He came in close, and she raked her talonlike fingers down his face, causing him to scream. She couldn’t lose here. If she died, Bridon would be alone. She couldn’t allow that to happen.
As she lifted her arm to strike again, he intercepted her midway. His hand came down on her forearm, and she released a scream as the bone shattered.
“Now for the other one.” Her father snatched her other arm and repeated the action, sending a wave of pure agony through her.
As she hunched over, he grasped her by the neck and forced her across the room. He lifted her into the air, tossed her onto the surface of the desk, and the items on top scattered to the floor. She looked up at him, prepared to meet her end. Instead he reached down, grabbed her right thigh, and applied steady pressure.
“Just in case anything you said was true, I’m going to keep you alive. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to break you. This is the penalty for turning your back on your alpha. Before the dawn rises on the morrow, you will understand what it means to feel true shame.”
When she felt the bone snap in her leg, dots swam before her eyes. The pain was intense and blinding. Before she could dwell on the misery, he did the same to her other leg, breaking the femur as if it were nothing more than a branch. She gasped for breath but couldn’t clutch her throat. Her useless hands rested limply at her sides.
“Tonight you’ll be chained in the center of the village. Anyone who wants to know what it’s like to fuck a princess will be allowed to do anything and everything they want to you. If you survive the night, you’d better be prepared to come clean with me. Because if you don’t, I’ll torture you in ways you never dreamed possible.”
“He’ll kill you,” she rasped. “Bridon will come for me, and he’ll finish you.”
Her father laughed. “If the vampire king is stupid enough to attempt such a thing, I’ll make sure I destroy him in front of your eyes.” He rose from her and yelled, “Dominic!”
Willow didn’t bother opening her eyes when she heard the door open. Her plan had failed miserably. She cursed Yuviette and her cryptic answers. If she was dead or alive, Bridon would come for her, and if she was alive, she’d be forced to watch as the pack ripped him apart.
“Take her to the village. Chain her in the center for the pack to see. Don’t allow her to shift or tend her wounds,” she heard her father instruct. “She remains exactly as she is.”
She knew her father had left because Dominic’s hands were gentle when they stroked her face. Opening her eyes, she gazed up at him through a thin sheen of tears.
“Amber?”
“Shh.” Dominic pressed a finger to her lips. “Don’t talk.” He glanced behind him and produced a small capsule. “Take this.”
“You want me dead too?”
“It won’t kill you, but it will knock you out. I’m offering you the chance to escape your pain for several hours.”
Trace wasn’t lying. Dominic did come to him. Relief hit so hard, she allowed the tears welling in her eyes to spill over. This wasn’t necessarily the end. As Dominic lifted the capsule, she whispered, “Micah’s alive, Dom.”
He went eerily still. “Are you certain about that, Willow? Be certain.”
“He’s been stashed away with his son and his Fated, waiting for me to come to him so he could reveal the truth. He planned to come here to challenge for the throne.”
“Is he coming?” There was so much hope in Dominic’s eyes.
“I think so. Since I’ve failed, I’m sure he’ll follow through with his plan.”
Dominic swept random strands of hair from her face. “Failed?”
“I tried to put the capsule father gave me into his drink. He must have known.”
She yelped when she accidentally shifted her leg, and Dominic pressed the pill against her mouth.
“Bridon,” she murmured. “Tell him I’m sorry. Tell him I was wrong.”
“You’ll tell him yourself. Take this, before someone comes.”
As soon as she opened her mouth, he slid the pill inside. The coating around it vanished and a chalky bitterness seeped into her tongue. Just before she passed out, she felt Dominic stroking her hair and heard his whispered promise.
“Don’t be afraid. When Micah arrives, he won’t stand alone.”
Chapter Eighteen
The bloodred moon had started its ascent into the sky by the time Bridon, Trace, and Micah made it to Norvallen Castle. Bridon had transported the trio to the closest location he’d ever traveled, and Trace had transformed into his dragon form to bring them the rest of the way. When they arrived, they landed about half a mile away to strategize. Micah said the gate would be open since certain wolves would want to take their play to the forests. To Bridon’s relief, the Lycae was right.
“It won’t be difficult for us to enter,” Bridon said and glanced at Trace who had remained in his more foreboding form.
“It won’t be difficult for me either,” Trace replied telepathically. “There are no ceilings to guard the outer portions of the castle. I can fly over and land as soon as you are inside.”
“How do you want to do this?” Bridon returned his attention to Micah. From this moment on, he had to approach his father on his own, as an alpha in his own right. That meant Bridon and Trace had to enter behind him, able to watch but nothing more.
“I’ll enter and issue challenge. In most circumstances the alpha has to respect it. It’s a code of honor among Lycae. Unfortunately, we have no idea what the pack has been told. An alpha can refuse the challenge if the person throwing the gauntlet is someone the pack refuses to stand behind. They can turn their backs on me, and I’ll have no choice but to leave or force their compliance.”
“Do you think they’ll turn their backs on you?”
“Once, I would have said no.” Micah gazed longingly at the castle in the distance. “Now, I’m not so sure.”
“This is what we planned all along,” Bridon reminded him and tried not to dwell on the fact that his Fated was waiting for him, her life in danger, inside the fortress. “If you want to do right by your people, you’re going to have to make them accept you as their future king.”
“I know. That’s why I want you to find Willow and get her out while I face the pack.”
“Willow won’t allow me to leave you behind.”
Micah placed a hand on his shoulder. “If you’ve not been able to contact my sister telepathically, I have a good reason to believe she’s drugged. When she comes to…” Micah gave a strong squeeze. “We have no idea what kind of condition she will be in. It’s best that you get her out as soon as you can. We’re lucky she’s still alive.”
That horrid emotion called terror clawed at him, striking solidly in the center of his chest. Despite how exhausted it made him, Bridon had tried to reach out to his Chosen. It shouldn’t have been as difficult since they shared a bond, but when he didn’t hear anything from her mind, he’d gone numb with dread. For hours he’d tried to establish some kind of contact. The only reprieve he received was in knowing she still lived. The moment her life ended, he would feel his soul tear in two.
“So we’ll enter together and split up,” Bridon said. “Trace, you know what to do.”
“Indeed,” the Draigen thought back.
“What about guards?” Bridon asked.
“With any luck, there won’t be many,” Micah replied. “Hopefully they’ll be under the sway of the moon.”
Bridon didn’t have to ask if that was why Micah had vanished for an hour with Savannah before their departure. “They’ll be too distracted to notice?”
“Until they’ve spent their seed, they won’t be able to fight the call. We shouldn’t have much trouble entering undetected. The center of the keep is where a majority of those mating will be.”
“That’s where you’ll issue your challenge?”
Micah nodded. “The alpha always gets first choice of the females. My father always takes the throne at the top of the stairs and enjoys the show when he’s finished.”
“How can you be certain he’s finished?”
Micah cracked a grin. “Big ticket, short ride.”
Trace took to the sky as Bridon and Micah walked cautiously toward the castle. Multiple groans and grunts carried to their ears, indicating the mating heat was in full swing. They reached the massive entrance and searched for guards. Two were standing nearby, on opposite sides of the entrance.
“Trace?” Bridon waited for co
nfirmation before he made his move. This was something he and Trace had done in the past, a fast and easy way to dispose of enemies. His vow to lay down arms against the Lycae was no longer on the table. His Fated waited for him, and he’d kill every single obstacle in his path to get to her.
“Go,” Trace answered him telepathically. “I’m coming to you.”
“What are you planning?” Micah asked, and Bridon smiled.
“Just watch. This is the advantage to having a Draigen on your side.”
Bridon teleported to the first guard, grasped him around the chest, and returned to Micah before the other watchman noticed. The werewolf, disoriented and confused, didn’t have an opportunity to move as Trace landed, opened his jaws, chomped him between his teeth, and swallowed.
“Fates be damned,” Micah muttered, watching as Trace turned his head and belched a small cloud of fire.
“Be right back.” Bridon grinned and teleported to the other guard. Trace was ready when he returned, and he shoved the guard in the dragon’s direction to be consumed whole.
“You ate them.” Micah frowned, appearing mortified.
“Do you want to enter undetected or not?” Bridon asked.
Micah considered it and shuddered. “You didn’t have to eat them.” He glanced at Trace. “Doesn’t that give you one hell of an upset stomach?”
Trace snorted and shook his triangle-shaped head.
“You hunt live game all the time; I don’t see how it’s any different,” Bridon answered and gave Micah a comforting pat on the shoulder. “When Trace shifts back, he’ll burn the meal off. It’s a part of what he is.”
“Stop fucking around and discussing my eating habits.” Trace’s thought had a hard edge to it as he took to the sky. “We need to move.”
“Lead on, Micah,” Bridon instructed.
Bridon followed as Micah strode into the inner ward of the castle. He tried to reach out to Willow but came up with nothing. When they came upon a circle with a blazing fire in the center, he learned why his Fated was unreachable.
She was nude, chained at the throat to a large pole near the fire. There was blood on her face and body, and she was unconscious. Rage unlike any he had ever known overtook him. He started forward when Micah stopped him.
