by Harper Wylde
I knew people liked to joke that I was a unicorn, a creature associated with rainbows, children’s shows, and sparkly fun. And yeah, I liked to have fun with the best of them, I was often the life of the party, but that was all surface stuff. What I was deep down was another story entirely. I felt the darkness swirling inside of me and, while I was scared of it—fucking terrified of what had happened on the island, and what that meant in regard to my power and skillset as a shifter, as a healer—I also welcomed it and the strength it bolstered in me. The Council was a dark, vile, corrupted force, and if it took some darkness to battle them, to destroy the twisted world they’d built, I’d embrace it with open fucking arms.
“I don’t know, Ryder. I just know that every new thing we learn about the Council further solidifies my desire to end them.” I’d never heard Rini’s voice so dark, her tone matching the bleak, onyx power I knew lived in the deep recesses of my soul. “I never agreed with their politics and I’ve been against the Council for a long time, but I didn’t realize things had deteriorated to this fucked up level.” Rini eyed the house, her expression breaking down until I saw the devastation that lay underneath her anger and insurgence. “I hate them.”
“So do I.” Hate was a powerful word, and I used the strength of the emotion as I made a promise. Tipping my head to the sky, I let my rage shake through me until I could channel it into something more useful. Determination. I promise you, Ally, I’ll get her out. I’ll make sure Emersyn is safe and cared for, and I’ll put what’s left of our family back together again. I wasn’t sure I believed in a higher power or an afterlife, but if Ally was somewhere in the great beyond watching me, I wanted her to know. I needed her to understand that I’d fight for her, even though she could no longer fight for herself. The Council had destroyed my family once, and I’d die before I let them succeed in keeping us apart now that I knew about Emersyn.
A wicked smile tilted the corners of my lips and a stillness, much like the eye of a hurricane, settled over me.
“Why are you smiling?” Rini queried, with a perplexed note to her voice.
I turned to her, embracing the dangerous way I was feeling. “It’s just ironic is all. The Council created a society so based on classism that they alienated the regular shifters,” I waved a hand in her direction, “who outnumber the mythologicals ten to one. Then they take their elitism to the extreme by frankensteining our genetics to create what? ‘Super’ mythologicals? And yet all they’ve actually accomplished was awakening the most powerful beast of all.”
“The rebellion.” Now Rini was smiling as well.
“They all but paved the way to their own freakin’ graves.” I shook my head, falling into that blissful place where my anger only reinforced my conviction, and the pain transformed into action. “I think they’re due a taste of their own medicine. I understand it now, the rebellion and the factions… why it works.”
“We have to be a united front if we stand any chance of ripping apart the foundation the Council’s thrones sit upon.”
I nodded and looked to Rini, affirming out loud what had just become my ultimate goal. “Now, I just need to make my membership official.”
Three
Nix
The mood in the house was dismal and dangerous, since each of my five men were furious about what they’d learned from Ryder. As soon as he was back within range of Damien’s mental reach, we’d known something was terribly wrong, but he’d made us wait until Rini dropped him off before filling us in on the hybrid status of the children he’d been sent to heal.
“We knew the Council had nefarious plans in regard to the island. The note left for Nix told us as much.” Theo paced, his eyebrows pulled together behind the rims of his glasses as he tried to use his logic to calm down a living room full of powerful, angry mythologicals.
“Everything the damn Council does is nefarious,” Killian growled. “Our best guess was that they had some sick, twisted, fucked up breeding program that they used in an attempt to ‘save’ rare mythologicals, and that was bad enough. We didn’t know they were fucking up kids’ genes and shit.” Killian’s gritty attitude was very near the surface, and the leash he kept on his mischievous Puca must have loosened in his distraction. The illusion of smoke pouring from Killian’s ears diffused some of the tension as, one by one, each of the guys noticed.
Damien released a pent-up breath and rolled his shoulders, which had grown with the press of his Gargoyle—his shift was precariously close. “Killian’s right. We didn’t have proof of anything other than the letter Nix received. This is concrete evidence.” I felt an edge of heartbreak over his statement, and I knew he was thinking about his father’s possible involvement on the island. I stood from the couch and started across the room, my sole intent to help lessen the distress I knew he was feeling, yet trying to hide from us.
“What are they even attempting to gain by merging the traits of different mythologicals?” Hiro’s body was stiff, his shoulders so tense it seemed they would break, and I could feel his roiling thoughts through the mental link Damien managed.
While it was open, Damien contained the flow of information to protect each of us from being flooded by the others’ emotional rage and numerous questions. Each day his powers grew stronger. Situations like this helped exercise his control, although I hated that he was under so much stress.
I stepped up to Damien, pressed against his front, and wrapped my arms around his waist. Rubbing his back, my palms traced over his taut muscles in long, soothing strokes as I tried to ease his strain, hoping to comfort him with my body while Theo answered Hiro.
“It’s not the same as a typical mating where there are dominant and recessive genes. During a normal mating, the child produced could take on either the mother or the father’s alter and powers, or some form therewithin.” Theo glanced to Hiro who nodded and hung his head. “Take Hiro, for example. He’s born from a celestial kitsune and a fire kitsune, but his powers are strictly forest based. Yet no matter the type of powers he has, he’s a kitsune.”
“That’s why Ahmya wants you as her mate.” I’d barely given the girl a thought recently. I’d had way too much other shit to worry about to give her even an ounce of my attention, but once she was at the forefront of my mind, the floodgates of my dislike opened and drenched me anew. “With your strong genes, the two of you could produce a fire or a celestial kitsune.”
“Yes, which would elevate her rank, and mine by association. However, an offspring’s powers are never guaranteed. It would be just as likely that we’d end up with another forest kitsune… or any kitsune, for that matter.” Hiro pinched the bridge of his nose behind his glasses, clearly not enjoying the turn of our conversation. Straightening, he made eye contact with me. “Listen, don’t worry about Ahmya.” Hiro’s countenance grew serious and intense. “She’s nothing to me. You’re my mate.”
I felt his conviction and nodded, content to send all thoughts of Ahmya packing. She was the last thing any of us needed to be thinking or talking about. I turned in Damien’s arms, facing the room at large, and brought my attention back to Theo. “So, you’re saying that the Council is fucking with the kids’ DNA and messing with their recessive and dominate traits? That’s why they possess features of each alter?”
“And probably powers from each. It also explains why they have issues shifting between their human and alternate forms. Nothing about their alters is natural, which makes it a painful and difficult process, I’d assume.”
“That’s what Aaron said. Took the poor kid three years to learn how to shift forms and appear fully human.” Ryder had stationed himself in the corner of the room, with his arms crossed over his chest as he kept his feelings and emotions close to the vest. He wasn’t usually so cold or closed off, but I had a feeling it was his coping mechanism, and the only way to have this conversation or simply function through the everyday tasks required of him. His pain was palpable, his face haggard, and my heart ached for him. I wanted to cross the r
oom, to wrap my arms around him and lend him whatever strength I had, but Damien eased gently into my mind and stopped me before I could pull from his arms.
Don’t. If you touch him right now, he might break, and he’s trying his best to hold his shit together. A glimpse of Ryder’s true emotional state swamped me as Damien gave me a peek into my Ceraptor’s mind, and I had to swallow past the lump that had suddenly formed in my throat from his pain. Hiro locked eyes with me, and I knew Damien had shared the same sentiment with the Kitsune who wished to comfort Ryder with me.
“Fuck, and we can’t find where they moved their operation to?” Killian growled, scrubbing a hand down his face in pure frustration. His red hair was getting longer and the scruff on his jaw had officially passed into beard territory.
“They’ve disappeared without a trace. I haven’t been able to locate anything on them or their whereabouts. It’s like they’ve ghosted.” Theo appeared as distressed as Killian looked angry, his blue eyes cold and his hands in fists as he grimaced.
I half listened to the conversation the men around me were having about the Council, the rebellion, and our future plans. I didn’t have to tune in to know that this new information simply solidified our stance on joining the rebellion. They were definitely the lesser evil of the two and our best chance at creating a much needed change to the shifters’ political system.
A muffled sound from outside caught my attention and I pulled from Damien’s arms. He stiffened as he, too, picked up on the intruder. The rest of the guys paused their conversation when I moved over to the front door and placed my palm flat against the cool surface, drawing their attention with my odd behavior. A strong and familiar magic tickled against mine, and my eyes grew wide a moment before I wrenched the door open to stare into the face of our visitor.
“Joshua…” His name was a breath on my lips as I stared into his handsome face. Fathomless, light blue eyes raked over my body, but unlike the heated looks I’d grown accustomed to from my men, the depths of Joshua’s looked tortured. He ran his long fingers through his hair, mussing it into a further state of disarray. His disheveled appearance hit me at my core. Joshua was always so put together, yet now he appeared… unsettled.
I gasped, my heart simultaneously pounding and squeezing from my excitement and dread. I’d been wanting to reach out to him… to apologize… but how did I do so without outing the rebellion and my cause for inciting his attack? How did I tell him that none of it was his fault the way I desperately wanted to? And how did I explain why I was so bothered—why I cared so much—to my men, when I couldn’t explain it even to myself? No. Instead, I’d hidden away like a coward and let his father and Gaspard mediate for Joshua and me. I felt torn in every single direction, while the secrets and half-truths I’d been spinning piled up on me—and I deserved every bit of angst they caused.
Damien stepped up behind me and opened the door farther, so the men in the house could see who was here for themselves. Not that they didn’t already know. Their enhanced hearing would have allowed them to make out the whispered name on my tongue.
“How the hell did you get here?” Theo questioned, irritation clear in every word as he raked his hands through his hair.
“I walked?” Joshua replied, tearing his eyes from me to glance at the irritated Kraken.
Damien groaned, rubbing at his temple as he remembered Ciarán using the same words to announce his presence here. “He meant how did you get past the wards?”
Joshua wrinkled his nose. “I wondered why you didn’t have any in place, considering all the possibilities. I didn’t sense any. I’d suggest strengthening them before people who actually have nefarious schemes realize you haven’t followed through with your protection duties.” Damien and Killian growled and Theo groaned, tugging at the blond strands of his hair as he muttered about inefficient wardings and people always managing to snake their way through.
Joshua’s eyes returned to me and his distress echoed in my heart. I reached for him, my fingers stopping just short of grazing the winter coat he wore. My hand hung in the air between us and I swallowed, my gulp audible in the silence as we stared at each other. I knew his father had wanted me to continue to consider Joshua as a mate, but he didn’t know that the entire courtship between me and the other mythologicals from the Gala was no more than a ruse in my eyes—a plan to keep the Council appeased for the time being. Still, Joshua was here… standing at my door, and I wanted nothing more than to fix the giant chasm spanning between us. Guilt ate at my insides, rotting and gnawing, crawling incessantly in the back of my mind, leaving me less than whole. I worried my lip between my teeth as I slowly lowered my arm, unsure if Joshua would welcome my touch, or how my mates would react to the betrayal of me touching another male. I wondered what his opinion was on our relationship—not that we had one. Confusion and desire warred in my chest and, when Joshua backed up, descending the stairs, I found myself taking a step across the threshold and following after him to where he stood below.
“Hi.” It was a lame start, but “I’m sorry I made your snake attack me” didn’t seem like a solid foundation to start this conversation off with either.
“Hi,” Joshua rasped, and a hint of a smile tipped the corner of his lips. The dismay in his eyes lifted just a little, just enough to allow hope to flare inside of my chest. Maybe, just maybe, we could move past this. “So, it’s true then,” he stated softly, and I tilted my head to the side and studied him.
“What are you—”
“Don’t.” He held a hand up, freezing the words on my tongue. “Don’t lie or pretend not to know what I’m talking about. I heard you speaking. Shifter hearing, remember?” He pointed to his head and I blinked at him.
“What is it you think you know?” Damien came through the front door like a large, imposing bodyguard. My own dark, avenging angel.
Joshua shot Damien a hard look, the invisible masculinity projecting from both of them clashing together like violent waves against a rocky shoreline. “I’m speaking with Nix.”
“Anything you say to her, you can say in front of all of us,” Killian replied gruffly from behind D’s sizable frame, unable to slip his own broad form past the Gargoyle blocking him. Not for the first time, I thanked my lucky stars for having such built men. It seemed to come in handy in all sorts of situations. If Damien stayed where he was, the rest of the guys would be stuck inside. No one needed more testosterone in this conversation than we already had.
“Guys!” I snapped. “I’m allowed to have my own conversations without any of you involved. I’m my own woman and I make my own decisions.” I propped my hands on my hips and glared them all down, relaxing only when I saw the sheepish looks cross some of their features.
“I don’t think so,” Killian countered, crossing his arms, and his usual surly demeanor dialed up a notch. “I’m not leaving you alone with him. He hurt you once already.”
“And you know that wasn’t his fault,” I hissed.
“From what I understand, that was the plan, wasn’t it? To provoke me?” Joshua gazed straight past me, locked in a standoff with Kill and Damien. “Do you realize how reckless that was? She fucking died!” Joshua’s rage rose like an impending tidal wave, dangerous, deadly, and unavoidable.
I paled and my mouth opened as I gaped wide-eyed at Joshua. “You know.”
“Who told you?” Killian growled, and I bit the inside of my cheek as I guessed the answer, pretty sure Joshua’s reply wasn’t going to make him happy.
“Your brother,” Joshua answered. “Interesting fellow.” A dry humor, and innate weariness, were reflected in those words, enough so that I felt my own lips twist into a smile.
Killian rolled his eyes and pinched his nose like he was fending off a headache. “Of course it was Ciarán.”
“He’s been watching me. Spying, honestly. And aside from deciding I was actually rebellion material, he had extra insurance that I wouldn’t fuck him over and go to the Council with my newfound knowled
ge.” His attention zeroed in on me once more. “I knew you were different, Nix. That’s why I put a bid on you. I was drawn to you from the first moment I saw you. Hell, probably even before that. The stories of a badass Phoenix preceded you, and they didn’t disappoint. A girl who goes against the grain. That’s what I like the most about you, so how can I be mad when I learn that what you did had a purpose much greater than ourselves?”
“You’re…” I swallowed and shook my head in disbelief. “You’re not mad?” Out of all the questions parading through my mind, that was the one I landed on. I nearly rolled my eyes at myself. I knew there were so many more important ones to ask, but my mind was legitimately blown. Of all the times I’d imagined this conversation, this was not how I had pictured it.
Joshua let out a dark, cynical laugh. “Oh no… I’m pissed to hell and back.” The light blue of his eyes flashed with his anger and the breath stalled in my lungs. “I’m also proud as hell, as odd as that may seem to someone who grew up human.”
“Nix,” Killian hissed, as he realized I was making direct eye contact with the Basilisk.
“I already said I’d never hurt her.” Joshua held my gaze for another beat before turning to Killian. “Not purposely. Not like all of you.”
“Excuse me?” Killian roared, his anger quickly growing to match the quieter rage in Joshua. He rammed one, large shoulder into Damien to try and muscle his way past, but Damien held strong, his impenetrable Gargoyle obviously lending him some powers to stave off the pissed off Puca.
“You sent her into that entire situation knowing I was going to bite her if your plan went correctly, which it did. You, better than anyone, know how dangerous my alter is. We grew up under the same roof. You know my snake is deadly, plain and simple, and yet you allowed her to sacrifice herself. You allowed her to die.” He enunciated the last word with such passion, such conviction, that my men had the grace to look chastened.
