Mystic Realms: A Limited Edition Collection

by Nicole Morgan

  Damn straight, he would train Saia. Unlike his sire, he would never risk his mate in a situation where she couldn’t protect herself if he wasn’t around. Tonight he would present her to the legions.

  As he headed for the stairwell, his gaze lowered to the box. Frowning, he flipped the lid open and his steps slowed.

  Nestled in soft gray cloth, the red stones set in black gold glowed like flames. It took him a moment to realize what they were. Faded memories resurfaced.

  He must have been five when he’d asked Wrath about his mother. Of course, he didn’t get much in the way of words, except that she was a “good” female. Then Wrath had shown him the box, said they’d belonged to her.

  No, he may not know his mother, but he’d make sure her memory would live on.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Saia set aside the book Ikaria had loaned her, too distracted to concentrate after Riley had left. His animosity toward his father worried her, not that she could blame him. She of all people understood how a parent’s rigid attitude could mess up a child’s life.

  While she didn’t hate her mother, Riley sure did his father. Wrath was about as warm as a blizzard.

  “You’re pacing.” Ikaria looked up from her book.

  “I’m worried.”

  The girl nodded and rose. “Let’s go outside. It’s not so confining.”

  Blowing out a rough breath, Saia picked up her book and followed; the guard stepping behind her.

  As they strolled the dirt-packed path to the courtyard, Saia took in the stumpy, upside-down white trees. “Are there no green ones here?”

  “In Sheol, yes, not here from what I’ve seen. But those there—“ she pointed to the bleached trees. “They are eons old—”

  She broke off at the sound of running footsteps hitting the hard ground. A young boy appeared seconds later. Breathing hard, he spoke in a strange language to Ikaria. The girl spun to Saia, her face paler than usual. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay.” Wondering what that was all about, she sat down as Ikaria hurried off. The guard stood a few feet away.

  Saia opened the book she’d brought. Pride and Prejudice, and an original copy, too—who knew?

  Smiling, she started reading again. Movement in her peripheral view drew her gaze.

  A rail-thin demoness with pale skin and dark eyes carried a tray, making her way toward Saia. She stared for a second then hurriedly lowered her head in deference. A gray scarf matching her long, simple dress concealed her hair, but brown wisps escaped its confinement.

  A servant? Saia hadn’t seen many of them, especially not a woman.

  She set the tray on the stone bench beside Saia. “Ikaria sent that for you.”

  “Where is she?”

  “She said not to trouble you.”

  “What is it?” she asked, unease squeezing her lungs.

  “Ma’ori, she is with Lord Réomer. He grows worse.”

  The book dropped. Saia shot up from the bench, her heart tripping. “I thought he was healing.”

  “It was an iron sword that pierced him,” the servant said quietly.

  And Riley had kept that from her. Damn him. She was well aware of how deadly iron could be to a demon if aimed right. She would have tied him to the bed had she known. He could die. But with his antagonism towards his father, he’d pretend everything was fine, even if he was bleeding to death. He was so darn stubborn!

  Saia hurried toward the side entrance.

  “Ma’ori,” the demoness panted. “We could walk, but it would take too long. If we flashed, I could get us there sooner.”

  Saia’s stomach lurched at the thought, but she was right. The demons’ mode of traveling would be faster. “All right.”

  The woman touched her hand, the air around her shifted. Saia squeezed her eyelids tight and gritted her teeth against the unfamiliar sensation, feeling as if she’d left her stomach behind and her head elsewhere. But her fear for Riley burned away the discomfort.

  The moment they touched solid ground, the demoness let her go. Disorientated, Saia stumbled, tripped on a rock, and fell. Jagged pieces of stone scraped her palms and knees. Wincing at the sting, she pushed to her feet and anxiously searched the arid area for Riley.

  Inhaling deeply, the strong stench of sulfur filled her nose, Saia nearly gagged. Sweat trickled down her back. Her eyes hurt at the intense heat. This place was too hot. And gray. Night had fallen so quickly?

  “Where is he? Where’s Ikaria?”

  “She’s a fool who deserves what comes to her.”

  Pressing a hand to her heaving stomach, Saia wheeled back to the woman in confusion. “What?”

  The servant folded her arms over her chest and glared at Saia like she’d stolen her favorite mop or something. “Did you really think I’d take you to him?”

  What the hell?

  “Where is Réomer? I swear, if anything happens to him, I will make you regret it—take me to him.”

  The demoness pulled off her headscarf and smoothed her hair—as if that were the most important thing, that she look good.

  “He is at the fortress with his sire. But you are out of the way. As it should be. Now he will mate with one more worthy.”

  Saia blinked. Then the truth hit her with the blow of a sledgehammer. “Denali sent you.”

  The servant snorted. “Aye. But my mistress is not the only one who wants him. She asked that I detain you. Then I realized with you dead, it opens the possibility for him to pick me. He’s already proven class means little since he chose you, a lowly mortal.”

  Lowly mortal? The stupid ass-butt. Wait—

  “Dead?” Alarm barreled through her.

  “Aye.” The demoness glanced up at the sky deepening to a charcoal gray. “When night falls, this place is where the damned ones wander, looking for a way out. And you”—she smirked—“you are like a beacon of light to their despair. They will suck out all that bright essence from you. Later, I will find your body, take you back, and console Réomer.”

  First Denali and now this skank, who was a broom short in her closet. “If Réomer doesn’t kill you first,” Saia snapped.

  “Why would he? He’ll be too broken up over losing you and in need of comfort.”

  The delusional viper! Saia reined in her irritation and scanned the area for a familiar landmark. She had to get out of here. But how?

  A wide, black river snaked past her on one side. The River Styx? But there were no soaring black mountains, just endless barren lands and ashy, craggy peaks in the distance. Her stomach churned. Oh, this wasn’t good.

  “No, no, mortal, you cannot leave this place. We are on the fringes of the Nine Circles of Hell. Beyond that rocky peak is the gateway.”

  Saia spun around. “Gateway? To what?”

  “Hell, of course.”

  Panic shut down Saia’s lungs. She couldn’t breathe.

  “Not only weak but so easily duped,” the skank sneered. “You couldn’t leave this place even if you had a miracle.”

  Saia inhaled huge, shuddering breaths. Think, Saia, think. You evaded your mother’s machinations.

  Yes, but she didn’t use supernatural powers.

  “Goodbye, little human—”

  Fear jolting through her like a livewire, Saia leaped for the demoness. Her surprise attack took them both to the ground. Her fist connected with the demoness’s jaw. Pain vibrated through her knuckles. Howling, the servant flashed some distance away, rubbing the side of her face. She glared. “Have an agonizing death, mortal.”

  Nooo! Saia leaped to her feet and made a grab for the woman, she didn’t want to be left in this awful place, but she flew straight through empty air, landing hard on all fours.

  The demoness had vanished.

  Trapped in the gray wastelands of Hell, Saia struggled to her feet, pain ripping through her scraped knees as she straightened. The skies here weren’t the pretty lavender she’d grown accustomed to, but a sinister stormy gray. In the distance, fire flare
d through the cracks in the ashy mountain peaks, spewing out flames as night encroached. Her white dress, streaked with dirt, stood out like a beacon in the dark.

  A low, reedy moan drifted in the hot, sulfuric air. An icy chill slid over her skin as the winds picked up, echoing their eerie cries. She wheeled around, searching the desolate landscape for a place to hide. Except for the small protrusions of rocks near where she stood, there was nothing.

  An unnerving, slithery sensation snaked around her ankles. A blood-curdling scream tore from her throat. Saia clawed at the dark thing to free herself, encountered something soft.

  The servant’s head cover. A dry sob escaping, she yanked it free and crushed it in her hands.

  The reedy wailings picked up. In the distance, a gray cloud moved toward her, thrashing and writhing in agitation. A sickly, sensation slithered deep within her, like when the Caligo had grabbed her in that alley. Her legs gave way. She slid to the ground.

  Hide, Saia, hide! Hastily, she tried to cover her bright dress with the piece of gray material. Oh, God, too small—too damn small!

  Too late.

  Glacial, bony fingers slithered beneath her dress, stealing over her flesh, searching. Her skin stung as if thrown into an ice storm, and her gaze locked on to moldy, pallid skin in a near-skeletal face. Nose eaten by decay. Straggly strands of ashy hair whipped around its twisted features.

  Nooo, she didn’t want to die here. Riley, help me!

  She squeezed her eyelids tight. Talons scraped over her chest, then pierced her skin. She screamed over and over until her terror morphed into one long screech, the pain in her chest too great to bear. She tumbled to her back and lashed out with her hands, her feet, but they just flayed through the dead—

  More hands grabbed her. Firmer ones. No, no, no! She fought harder. Punched, kicked, and clawed.

  “Saia, it’s me. It’s me, baby.”

  No, Riley didn’t know where she was! She lashed out again, connected to a brick wall—more pain in her knuckles.

  A grunt filled her ears.

  “Saia, stop. I have you. You’re safe now.” Warmth surrounded her. Arms held her tight. The familiar smell of lemongrass teased her nostrils.

  Riley? A huge sob erupted from her sore throat. Crying hard, she buried her face in his chest. Her hands fisted the back of his shirt, too terrified to let go. She hung on to her safe haven.

  Adrenaline flatlined. Her legs buckled.

  Strong arms swept her up and crushed her close.

  From some far off place, she heard a fervent litany. “I have you. I have you now. You’re safe, Saia…” His lips touched her brow, and the dank, thick air around them shifted. Shuddering, she shut her eyes.

  The murderous rage burning inside him leashed by a thin thread, Riley sent off the scouts with the gray scarf to find the demoness responsible for his mate’s abduction. The scent on the head cover that had been twisted around Saia was all he needed to locate the traitor. When he did, whoever it was would wish to Hades they hadn’t come within breathing distance of his mate.

  Blowing out a ragged breath, he walked back into the bathroom and found Saia huddled in the sunken bath. The shower hitting her hard while more flowed from the slits on the side walls filling the pool.

  Boots and all, he leaped into the water.

  She didn’t look up. Her chin rested on her bent knees, her arms wrapped around her waist, she stared vacantly at the undulating body of liquid.

  Riley crouched in front of her and brushed away the wet strands sticking to her face. “Saia?”

  No response.

  She’d blocked out the world around her. Locked him out. That he refused to accept.

  First, he needed to examine her wounds. But with her hunched into a protective cocoon and still wearing her dress, it was impossible. Carefully, he eased her back and removed the blood-streaked, sodden garment, tossing it aside. She folded back into that protective, hunched posture, her arms wrapped around her. He scanned her and found bruises on her palms, knees, and several deeper defensive slashes on her arms.

  Mouth tight, he eased her hands away from her waist, his breath caught at the three gouges running from her chest to her ribs.

  The image of her on the ground, fighting for her life as the damned tried to steal her soul would remain branded in his memory for eternity. Had he been any later, Saia would have died; become an apparition, cursed to wander that desolate place for eternity, searching for her soul.

  How she’d survived those few minutes alone in a place where even demons feared to go, he had no idea. He was just grateful they hadn’t hauled her straight into Hell—probably too eager to get at her soul.

  From the moment Ikaria had told him she couldn’t find Saia, he’d torn through the citadel searching for her. Ikaria’s gift didn’t help much. The fact that she could hear echoes of a conversation long after it had occurred revealed little, just a strange female telling Saia that he was hurt. Thank the dark gods he’d soul-joined with her and shared her light essence—the only thing that guided him to the outskirts of Hell.

  Was this why Wrath insisted he bond with Saia immediately? Did he know this could happen?

  Shit! Of course, he would. His own mate had been abducted and killed in a similar situation. Unmated, Wrath had been unable to find her in time.

  He didn’t want to be grateful to his sire, but Wrath was right. Now that he’d proven his worth, the females would come after Saia and try to usurp her place in his life, and the males would either want Saia for themselves or harm her to get at him. Wrath’s enemies were legion. As were his, it seemed.

  Clamping a lid on his rioting anger, he laid his hand over her wounds and let his healing power flow into her. The skin knitted, and the injuries disappeared, leaving behind smooth skin once more.

  He shut off the shower, scooped her into his arms, and carried her to the bed, snagging a towel on his way out. He laid her down and gently rubbed her dry, then he straightened.

  “No!” She grabbed his hand with icy fingers, her ragged nails biting into his skin. Her terror and pain a thick cloud that constricted his chest.

  He caressed her delicate jaw. “I’m not leaving you, baby. I need to undress so I can warm you.” Quickly, he shed his clothes and slid in beside her. Pulling her close to him, he tucked her head under his chin and let his warmth flow through her shivering body.

  Riley pressed his lips to her hair, his palm sliding over her back, her hips in a comforting stroke. “It’s over, Saia. I’m here now. No one will ever hurt you again.”

  Later the following evening, Riley watched Saia play listlessly with her food.

  The entire night, she’d been agitated, shot up screaming as she relived her horror. His heart hurting for her, with little choice, he’d sent her to sleep and kept watch over her. He wished he could leave Stygia, take her back to Earth, but trouble would simply follow.

  She was his mate, everyone in this damn place had to know and abide by his choice. For her safety, and his peace of mind, Saia had to be presented to the Stygians.

  “Tomorrow we will go back to Earth,” he said quietly, hoping it would reassure her. “But tonight, we must attend the presentation ceremony so everyone knows who you are—”

  “No!” She shot up from her chair and sprinted toward the bathroom.

  Riley’s grip tightened around the mug. He understood her fear. She couldn’t move past her terror of the damned touching her, and now she had to face a legion of demons in a few hours.

  It was the worst thing she could do; show distress.

  With no news yet on the one who’d abducted his mate—the very thought made him want to go on a rampage, searching for the female himself. But he refused to leave Saia when she was so vulnerable.

  Riley rose and followed her into the bathroom. The rustling sounds of water saturated the place. Saia was in the bathing pool again, furiously scrubbing her body with a rough loofa. Red splotches marred her tan skin.

  Aah, gods. He le
aped into the bath, the cascading water drenching him, and grabbed her arms. “Saia, stop, please stop, baby. You’re hurting yourself. You’re safe—safe with me.”

  He tried to read her thoughts, but she’d thrown a wall over them. It had probably occurred when she attempted to keep the damned out of her mind.

  A shuddering breath escaping her. Her body wracked with shivers, she stared at him. Her eyes were wet with tears, looking so shattered. “I still feel them…”

  Her voice, raspier than usual, told him just how much she must have screamed. Helpless anger prowled through him and something inside his chest hurt at all the things she’d endured.

  As he waved his hand over the fresh welts on her skin, healing her, he remembered the horrid morning with her mother after he’d broken her heart, when her mother had trampled on the rest of the pieces with her careless words.

  Remorse hit him hard. He didn’t want to see her so defeated ever again.

  But dammit, he had to find a way to crack through this wall she’d erected around herself…and came up with only one.

  Not the best idea he’d ever had, but he’d used anything to get her back to her usual fighting self. She had to be able to face tonight.

  He hunkered in front of her. “I understand why something like this would scare you.” He clasped both of her hands, his thumb stroking her skin. “I guess it’s bound to happen. Fighting a formidable person like your mother has finally broken your spirit.”

  Her head shot up. Brown eyes took on specks of gold, her ire nearly flaying him. “If that’s the case, then I’d be safely married to one of her choosing. I wouldn’t have been with you. Or in this situation.”

  Right. He didn’t care that she used him as a whipping post. But trust Saia to nail him right in the balls with the blunt truth. “I see...” Then baited her. “Why exactly did you ask me to be your date again?”

  “You know why.”

  “Ah, right.” He fought off a smile. “I’d threatened to cuff you to a tree and have my wicked way with you.”

  She sent him a dark look. There she was, his little tormentor.

  Relief easing some of his worries, Riley swept her into his arms and leapt out of the bathing pool. He crossed to the towel shelves, set her on her feet, and grabbed a bath towel, then turned and nearly swallowed his tongue.