by Bella Jacobs
Hermione turns her head, her disappointed eyes meeting mine. “But it wasn’t consensual last night, Maxim. It couldn’t be, because you drugged her, and I’m guessing you used a fairy powder, right? Which means you put your own safety at risk again, too. What happens if they come after you for buying that shit?”
“I used a trusted source,” I mutter, feeling worse with every passing second and knowing the sinking feeling in my stomach has little to do with the elevator lurching to a stop.
I was so angry last night—angry at Willow for lying to me about being a virgin and angry with myself for being a fool—that it was easy to push all the moral confusion I’d felt before away.
But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have serious doubts about whether to pull the trigger on my plan. I didn’t want to hurt Willow, but there was so much at stake, and she was refusing to see that trying to conceive a child was the only way to keep our people safe.
To keep her safe.
Willow might never be able to understand that or to forgive me for what I did—she made that pretty clear in her letter—but surely Hermione can see where I’m coming from.
As we step out of the elevator, striding toward the main entrance where a team of enforcers is already waiting, I add softly, “I did it because I care about her, H. Because I need to keep her safe, even if she ends up hating me for it.”
Hermione sighs. “And she might, Maxim. But I’ll do what I can to bring her back to you, anyway. She sure as hell isn’t safe out there.”
We’re still several yards from the team she’s so swiftly and capably assembled, when she stops and turns to face me. “But you crossed a line last night,” she whispers. “Not just with Willow, but with me. I can’t support anything like that. Ever. No matter what’s at stake. I need you to promise me nothing like that happens again or…I’m out. For good.”
I clench my jaw and drop my gaze to the marble tile beneath our feet, feeling like I’ve swallowed a hurricane.
There are so many emotions rampaging in my chest that I’m not sure what to feel or say, but I am keenly aware of the two distinct sides of the storm inside.
One half is enraged that my second is daring to challenge my authority at a time like this, livid that she’s set herself up as my moral superior and determined to show her how wrong she is about everything—from Willow to me to how far we have to be prepared to go to save our people.
The other half is…miserable, panicked, and desperate to prove to the women I love—from Hermione to Willow to Diana—that they are so fucking important to me. They are in my heart and mind all the time, even when I’m forced into making decisions that aren’t the kindest or the fairest.
Or even decent.
It doesn’t matter that she lied about what Pax did—or didn’t—do to her. What you did to Willow last night is indefensible.
The voice in my head squirms through my brain, leaving more pain and regret behind, but I don’t have time for any of this shit, so I simply say, “I hear you. We’ll talk more later. Getting Willow and Diana back where they’re safe comes first.”
She hesitates only a second before she nods and says, “Agreed,” but it’s long enough to see the disappointment in her eyes.
I still have her loyalty—for now—but I’ve lost her respect.
And fuck, that hurts, too.
As we organize the enforcers into groups of five and quickly map out the route each team should take to catch up to the garbage truck and cut it off before it gets too far uptown, my throat is full of knives. Every word forced from my lips slices me on the way out.
Once we’re through the doors, I’m grateful for the cold air outside the tower and a reason to run up the street while Hermione leads a team to the east and the next avenue over. Cars would be a waste of time at this point. The rush hour traffic is crawling along so slowly, we’ll be able to move faster on foot. And the garbage truck will likely stop several times before its final destination, giving us ample opportunity to close the distance between us.
I’m feeling optimistic about that, at least. We will catch up to Willow and Diana and bring them home.
What happens after that, however, remains to be seen.
If they start spreading dangerous stories about me being some sort of “Shadow King,” I’m not sure what I’ll do. Most of my people won’t believe it, of course—they know how hard I work to ensure their safety and happiness—but dissent from my nearest and dearest could be dangerous.
Willow is so new to our pack that her words alone shouldn’t make much of a difference, but with Diana backing her up…
Diana isn’t your typical angsty teen. After our mother died, the entire pack rallied around her. She may have spent most of her nights in the nursery with her nanny, but she was raised by every wolf in our tower.
They love her not just as their pack princess, but as one of their own children.
They love me as an Alpha doing my best to follow in my father’s footsteps.
No matter which of us comes out on top in their hearts, being forced to choose sides will fracture our pack at a time when we need unity the most. This battle with my sister will make it that much easier for Bane to swoop in, get rid of me, and take control.
And no matter what Willow and Diana think, I know Bane isn’t what’s best for our people or the shifter world.
When life gets hard, Bane gets disinterested or worse, belligerent. After our mother died, I doubt he visited Diana more than a handful of times before he and Kelley took off. I was in the nursery at least three or four times a week. Diana had sleepovers at my place until she was eleven and decided hanging out with her big brother wasn’t cool anymore and she’d rather spend Friday nights with her friends.
And it’s not just family that Bane has a habit of letting down. Dad doesn’t talk much about the time he spent training my brother to take over as Alpha, but he’s let enough slip that I know he wasn’t pleased with Bane’s focus, work ethic, or dedication to the pack.
Maybe that would have improved as he aged, but I doubt it. Bane is who he is and that isn’t a person who has any business leading our people.
I’ll find a way to make Diana understand that, to convince her that I’m the lesser of two evils at the very least. And that I’m trying, so hard, to do what’s best for the pack with as little damage to each individual member as possible.
But until I find the words to persuade her, it might be better if Diana and Willow are secured at an alternate location, where they can’t stir up trouble…
As my group of five turns a corner six blocks up to spot the garbage truck descending into the bowels of another high rise, a plan begins to form.
I take a quick inventory of the enforcers on either side of me as we hurry down the narrow drive. All of them are loyal and none are particular favorites of Hermione’s. If I tell them to keep quiet about what happens here, they will—especially if they’re part of the guard watching over Willow and Diana in a safehouse upstate.
As we duck into the cool shadows of the large parking garage, I’m plotting how to transport the women without attracting unnecessary attention.
My focus is split—half here with my men, half in an unmarked car zooming out of the city to an isolated cabin away from the noise and confusion. There, Willow and Diana will both have the chance to cool off, see there’s another side to this story, and hopefully come around to forgiving me for my unavoidable sins.
It’s as much a pretty daydream as a plan and I’m so caught up in it I don’t realize we’re being followed until the first blast of bright blue light spears through the gloom and Briggs drops to the concrete with a tortured groan.
A second later, I’ve spun to face our attackers, my weapon drawn, but even as I level the gun at the three tall, masked figures stalking toward us, I know it’s pointless.
Fairies can’t be killed by bullets.
Their clothing is enchanted to protect them from human weapons. Our best bet is to shift and inflic
t enough damage with teeth and claws to get out of here and back to the tower.
Though, if these three are here to enforce fairy law, the safety of the tower would only be temporary. When the Fey seek vengeance against those who illegally use their magic, they don’t stop until they’ve made an example of the offender.
After all the forbidden fairy charms and powders I’ve procured in the past few days, these three may very well have been sent to kill me.
It’s my last thought before a blast of light from the tallest Fey’s hands explodes in front of my face and the world goes black.
Chapter Five
Willow
At the garbage truck’s third stop, Diana slides out of our hiding place and motions for me to follow. I scoot to the edge of the shelf and hop down, my legs shaky now that the initial adrenaline rush has begun to fade.
As we sneak out from under the truck and past the turned backs of the garbage workers busy hooking the vehicle’s claw to a large bin in front of a scaffolded building, I’m suddenly feeling every one of the hours of sleep I missed last night.
But this isn’t the time to rest or let down our guard.
Half a block from the truck, I nod toward an alley beside a convenience store with bushels of brightly colored fall vegetables arranged out front. “We should change our appearance, make sure we look different than when we left the tower. I have extra clothes and hats in my backpack.”
Diana glances around the street, then nods. “Okay, sounds good, but I think we’re okay. At least for now. Even if they’ve tracked my phone already, they’ll be barking up the wrong tree.”
“What do you mean?” I ask as we move into the shadows of the alley and step behind a stack of wooden pallets for cover from the street.
“I tossed my cell into the truck headed uptown,” Diana says as she tugs off her red track jacket and reverses it, revealing plain black on the other side. “Maxim’s always giving me shit about being addicted to my phone. He won’t suspect I’ve chucked it until he’s holding it in his hand.”
“Clever,” I say as I exchange my pink cardigan for a dark jean jacket and wrap a gray scarf around my neck.
“I’m pretty good at sneaking around,” she says with a grin. She toes off her sneakers, quickly dragging down her pants and reversing them to the black side, as well, before slipping her shoes back on. “It’s one of my top three most marketable skills.”
I arch a brow. “Marketable, huh? Are you planning to be a spy when you grow up?”
“Maybe,” she says. “Or an art thief. I was addicted to heist movies when I was a kid, Maxim and I used to…” She trails off, the light fading from her eyes. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter. The Maxim I knew when I was a kid doesn’t live here anymore.”
I give her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “He’s still in there somewhere. And hopefully he’ll come back to you someday.”
Her forehead furrows as she shoots me an incredulous look. “How can you say that? How can you defend him, after what he did to you?”
“He did a bad thing,” I say, my chest going tight as all my conflicting emotions begin to swirl inside me again. “But he’s not all bad. Not many people are.”
“But…” She swallows, her throat working before she adds in a softer voice, “He basically raped you, Willow.”
I exhale with a shake of my head. “I told you, Diana, I… I don’t feel that way about it. I wanted to be with him. A lot.”
“But without the drugs you would have said no,” she maintains.
“Yes. Probably. But…maybe not,” I say, hurrying on when her frown deepens. “I’m not excusing what he did. I’m mad as hell and feel deeply, deeply betrayed. But I can’t say for sure what would have happened without the powder in my wine.” I sigh. “He’s my fated mate. I’m insanely drawn to him—was insanely drawn to him—and it’s just…” I flap my hands at my side. “It’s complicated.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “But is it? Really?”
I sigh again and reach into my pack for a slouchy knit cap, holding it out to her. “Have a hat. And tuck your hair into the back of your jacket. It’s your most distinctive feature.”
She accepts the hat and plunks it down on her head, looking effortlessly beautiful, as always. “Fine, but I want to talk more about this later.” She stuffs her hair down her jacket and turns the collar up. “I wasn’t being flip. That was a serious question. A lot of the time, things seem pretty black and white to me. But I know they’re not. I know life and right and wrong and all that stuff gets more confusing as you get older.”
My lips curve up on one side. “You’re wise beyond your years, kid.”
She shrugs self-consciously. “I try to be. As the third child and a girl, I know most people think I shouldn’t worry about being called to lead, but I’ve always wanted to be ready. Just in case. I would never want anything to happen to Maxim, of course, even now, but…” She casts a wary glance toward the entrance to the alley. “Well, even Human Side, things can get violent on the streets for shifters. It’s not crazy to think Maxim might get caught in the crossfire someday and then I’ll have to step up.”
The thought is sobering.
And frightening.
I don’t want anything to happen to Maxim, either. That’s why I threatened him and accused him of being the Shadow King even though I have no proof that anything close to that is true.
My pack gift had nothing to say about Maxim’s part in the prophecy.
It hasn’t been very forthcoming about how this war for the crown shakes out, at all, but I know the next big decision—whatever that is—is mine to make. I have to decide what comes next for me and any child I might be carrying. My glowing eyes in the mirror early this morning left no doubt about that.
And as long as I’m under Maxim’s control, there’s no way he’ll let me call the shots, even for a minute.
Which means the best thing for my domineering, control-freak mate is for him to stay as far away from me as possible. At least that way, I won’t have to fight him to do what I need to do and hopefully neither of us will get hurt.
Because even after everything that’s happened, I don’t want him hurt. I really, truly don’t. I want him to be around for a long, long time.
I shake my head and zip up my pack.
“What?” Diana asks. “Do you think that’s crazy? That I might have to step up some day?”
“No, not at all.” I wince. “Sorry, I was just…thinking things I shouldn’t.”
Like that Maxim and I might have a future.
Maxim and I might be fated, but he isn’t my mate, and he never will be. It doesn’t matter that a part of me loved being with him last night and is dying to be with him again—without drugs or lies or betrayal or anything else in bed with us. Just him and me, skin to skin, breath to breath, with his touch making me feel pleasure unlike anything I imagined possible.
That part of me is weak; it’s a primitive, biological compulsion I’ll eventually learn to overpower with my logical mind.
But in the meantime…
“I need to find a pharmacy,” I tell Diana as we start back toward the sidewalk. I’ve never taken the morning-after pill before, but it made my friend Belle so nauseous she threw up in the trashcan during Chem lab and couldn’t eat anything but plain bread for a week.
Hopefully it will be easier to avoid compassionate thoughts about Maxim when I’m sick to my stomach because he tried to knock me up against my will. Because Diana’s right—what he did was a violation, no matter how compelling the motivations for his behavior.
But wouldn’t you have done the same?
If it came to a choice between honoring Maxim’s wishes and saving thousands of pack members…
If you truly believed betraying him was the only way to keep those innocent lives safe…
I squeeze my eyes shut and then open them again, focusing on the people in front of us on the sidewalk, on the sky turning apricot as the morning sun rises higher,
on the puff of my breath in front of my face, anything to keep my mind in the here and now, where it belongs. I don’t have the luxury of second-guessing things right now. I chose to run with Diana and face my enemies without Maxim, and I believe it was the right choice.
He would never have been by my side, anyway. Maxim doesn’t see me as his equal. He sees me as a commodity to control or a problem to manage…or occasionally as something precious he needs to protect.
A wave of pain-tinged longing washes through my chest, summoning a growl from low in my throat.
“I would ask if you’re all right,” Diana whispers beneath her breath. “But obviously you’re not. Because we’re on the run from my psycho brother and possibly in danger from my other psycho brother and the world could be ending and the guy you’re in love with turned out to be a huge dickhead.” She puts an arm around my shoulders. “Though to be fair, most guys I know are dickheads. Except Jacob.” She lets out a soft squeak of excitement. “I hope you like him, too, Willow. He’s so precious and gorgeous and sweet and wonderful.”
“And in a cult,” I remind her. “And he thinks I’m evil.”
“No, he doesn’t. Not anymore,” she says. “I convinced him that you’re one of the good ones. And he swears he didn’t know about the explosion in the theater. He doesn’t think Bane and Kelley were responsible for it, actually, he thinks it was just some kind of weird coincidence. But either way, he’s not on board with hurting people. And he’s open to the fact that Bane and Kelley might not be as perfect as he’s been led to believe.” She pulls her arm from my shoulders, tugging at her lip as she adds, “But, he would also really like it if we could be open. Just a little bit.”
She cuts to the right, and I follow, frowning up at her as we swoosh through the automatic doors leading into a brightly lit pharmacy. “Open in what way?”
