“Yvette,” he gave her a kind look. “You are caring, but–”
“I can't stop now,” she said. “Really. Please don't make me go away.”
He smiled, placing a hand on her face.
“I would never forgive myself if something happened to you. And it almost did.”
“What are you going to do about your father? Where did he go?”
“We don't know,” Peter said. “But it is clear that he has values that are different from mine. The problem is–”
“His claim to the throne is about as strong as yours,” she said, picking up his train of thought. “You are both returned from the Other.”
“We are both dead,” Peter said, softly.
“Then this time is a gift,” she said. “And, maybe it will not be here forever. So we shall take advantage of it while we can. The time that all of us have is borrowed.”
He squeezed her hand, rising, but she pulled him back.
“Please don't leave without me,” she said. “I want to finish the job, even if it's the last thing I do.”
“I won't,” he said. “But your safety is foremost in my mind.”
She coughed again, but mid-cough she felt the magic flow into her. It was purer and stronger than what Armand had ever given her. The healing she received was almost to the point of cure, as it always was. He wasn't probing, he was simply fixing.
“Thank you,” she said, looking up at him.
“I wish I could do more,” he replied. “I don't know when this world got so complicated.”
“Someone once told me that the hardest thing to do in this world was live in it,” Yvette replied. “I believe that.”
“I'll leave you to rest,” he said. “I want you stronger if we do go back. Tomorrow morning, at the earliest.”
“Peter,” she called as he reached the door. “How many people died, in the mall?”
“In the mall? Four,” he said.
“And in the dress shop?” she asked, afraid of the answer.
“Everyone,” he met her eyes. “Everyone else.”
Yvette bit her lip, trying to stop the tears.
“You saved me,” she said, at last.
“Yes,” he answered, and left.
She was no longer just helping them in exchange for health care and for money. She was in the thick of their world now, and she wasn't sure there was any way out. She wasn't sure she wanted a way out.
Chapter 10
“What do you mean you're going back?” Thomas asked her in shock when she told him her plans that evening. “He almost killed you.”
“He didn't,” Yvette tried to assure him. “You know what happened. It isn't his fault. And more than that, the job is not done. When have you known me to ever not finish a job?”
“It's not about your sense of pride, Yvette,” Thomas snapped at her. “You're so full of pride, you think you're doing the right thing. How do you know you are fighting for the right side?”
“What?” she asked him, completely confused.
“Never mind,” he shook his head. “If you want to go back, that's on you. But if you do, we're through.”
“What?” she repeated, shell-shocked. “Because I'm finishing a job?”
“Because those who sit on our throne are dangerous, and they have made laws that make no sense. Why do you think I left?”
“You left because the old king was tyrant who used your special abilities to force you into a warrior life you didn't want.”
“Well, at least I did something with my life,” he said. “Rather than sitting around on Earth. And when I left, I didn't know that the kings who were replacing him would be even worse.”
“So, you must be thrilled that the old king has returned.”
Thomas fixed her with a stare. “Yvette. I'm serious. You leave, I won't be here when you get back.”
“Well, that's your choice,” she managed, trying not to cry.
“Fine,” Thomas said, and stood up. “Goodbye, Yvette. It was nice.”
And then he was gone, leaving her alone in the hospital room.
She brought her knees up to her face, the hot tears streaming down her cheeks. She felt her chest go tight and her hands tremble.
The Donizettis had taken her in, had given her a home and a life. She had bounced around from poverty-stricken houses until she had found them, and they had taught her what a house and a stable lifestyle could mean.
And now, she had destroyed it.
Thomas was her first boyfriend–her only boyfriend. She had only known him–his danger alluring, his experience in comparison with her quiet life shocking.
Somehow, she found sleep that night, although it was interrupted by the constant visit of doctors and nurses. When morning came, Peter found her things packed and her fully dressed, ready to go.
“You are sure?” he asked. She nodded, afraid that if she spoke, her emotions would flow. “Alright. I am going to take you back on my own, and Nicholas will follow with Ariel when they are ready. There is so much going on that it is best we leave now before the carapaces find us.”
She placed her hand on his.
“Take me there,” she said, just wanting to be as far away from this place as possible.
The vortex that had opened wasn't too far from the hospital. It was quick and easy–as easy as waiting for the train. Yvette felt cold and emotionless as Peter pulled the magic around them.
When they landed in the antechamber, though, it was absolute chaos.
“What's happening?” Yvette asked, as people rushed past them, almost knocking into her. She shrank against him, confused. Peter spoke quickly in dragon, and then turned pale. “What is it?”
“We were right, on Earth,” Peter said. “The carapaces weren't returning to the Other. They were killed.”
“Killed by who?”
“Dragons,” Peter said. “And they were left as gruesome displays. You don't need to know the details.”
“Was it your father?” Yvette asked.
Peter nodded. “I think no lessons today, hmm? I have to find out what's going on. Alexander will be distraught because everything he's worked for is coming undone.”
“Let me stay with you,” Yvette pleaded. “I don't want to be apart from you. I don't feel safe.”
He looked torn, but her large eyes conflicted his heart.
“Alright,” he said. “But, stay close. And if anything happens, you need to get yourself to safety. I will take care of you, I promise.”
“I know you will,” she said, and he pulled her into the throne room.
She automatically knew it was so much more than just the carapaces being killed. People were running about the throne room, a line was forming to speak to the king, and people looked distraught.
She was surprised to see that not everyone in line was a dragon. She recognized the characteristics of wolves, lions, and bears, hoping against hope for help from the king that they had once been against.
Alexander wouldn't dare sit on the throne with Peter back, and so he was sitting on the steps, going over documents. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, pale and drawn.
“Alexander,” Peter put his hand out to receive the documents “I can take over, if you need.”
“You need to address the concerns of the galaxy.” Alexander stood up, grateful for his brother's return “I can do this, but only you can sit there.”
“Of course,” Peter said. “You've heard what's happened to us?”
“Yes,” Alexander said, not even looking at Yvette. “Where is Ariel? Please tell me she is safe.”
“As far as I know,” Peter replied. “She stayed behind with Nicholas to gather some more evidence. Where is Cole?”
“Cole was mobilizing the guard,” Alexander replied. “He should be back here soon.”
“I want him under the protection of the guard,” Peter said. “His comings and goings are monitored, protected. And I want the princess here. Her translation may be halting, but she i
s taught to be precise.”
“Why are you protecting Cole?” Yvette asked, as they ascended the steps.
“Because Cole is the youngest heir to the throne. The last hope, you would say. Because he is our last hope, he is protected. The other two have specific duties to perform and specific tasks to be present at. The youngest heir's job is to protect the throne by staying alive.”
“Oh,” she answered. “Your English is quite good compared to when we started. Enya can help, but you need to believe in yourself.”
He smiled briefly at her as he took a seat on the throne. She went to move aside, but he took her hand.
“If you are able, please stand at my side,” he said. “I would like the support.”
“Of course.” She half leaned against him, watching as the lineup turned toward him.
Enya's language was growing in leaps and bounds as well. Her dragon was moving slowly because she was trying to learn all the languages of the shifters at once. She was mostly proficient at all of them by now, and Peter conducted his business through her when needed. Yvette knew that he wanted to be sure in his words and careful in his decisions as he listened to the cases. This was the rule of a King who wanted to be fair and just, not a King who was wandering and lost.
Her eyes flickered to Enya who looked tired, but held strong. She wore a small tiara to indicate that she was a princess. Yvette likened it to what a prom princess would have worn, which made her smile in longing. She hadn't gotten to go to her own prom; she had been too ill. Here was this girl, so like her that had changed her life. Life on Earth seemed so far away.
Yvette had another thought as she watched Enya. She thought that perhaps she could do that one day. She could be strong like that with dragons at her back.
There was death everywhere, and it wasn't just the old king who was behind it. Reports of him were everywhere, but it appeared he had agents working for him–Dragon agents who believed his rule was right.
He was invoking every old revolution that had ever happened. Killing bears, dragons, lions, and wolves along with carapaces. He was after those who had defied him; those who had gone against his kingdom and his rule at one point.
Yvette could only catch half of it, but what she heard was terrifying.
“He said that he was not as cruel as those who sat on the throne now.”
She heard the voice clearly, and her head snapped up. Choosing to speak in English, a wolf shifter who had spent much time on Earth looked to Enya, telling his story.
“Wait, what did you say?” Yvette said, startling all of them. “Please, repeat that.”
Peter looked to her, but nodded his head.
“He said that he was not as cruel as those who sat on the throne now,” the wolf repeated, unsure why he was receiving this order. “Have I said something wrong?”
“No,” Yvette put her hand to mouth. “I don't. Oh, God.”
She stepped down from the platform, heading out the nearest door. Tears filled her eyes as she made it into the hallway.
“Yvette?” Cole had been coming into the throne room and almost ran right into her. “What's the matter?”
“I think he's helping him,” she babbled. “Oh, God, I think he's helping him. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't know.”
“What?” Cole crouched down, alarmed. “What do you know?”
“Thomas,” she managed, at last. “He said something to me in the hospital, and then the wolf said the same thing. I think Thomas is helping your father.”
“Do you?” Cole waited for more evidence.
“I've been thinking of how weird it seems,” she said, “that your father was just ripped from the Other and suddenly doing all these things. You saw how Peter was when he was returned, and I've seen many other cases. It takes a while to wrap your head around things, let alone make coherent actions. Somebody is helping him, or several someone’s. And I'm sure Thomas is involved.”
“Right,” Cole said. “And Thomas Donizetti is still living in the family home?”
“He is,” Yvette replied. “I saw him in the hospital. He broke up with me.”
“Oh, darling, I'm sorry,” he replied.
“Obviously, it might be for the best,” she managed to shrug.
“The Donizettis could be all in this together,” Cole rose, already thinking. “Every single one of them had left the kingdom because they were angry.”
“No,” she cried out. “No, Armand would never. The rest of them would never. They are good people. They brought Thomas into the family because they wanted to help him, to heal him. He was always the difficult one, the problem one. But they didn't judge him. They loved him. I loved him.”
“Yvette,” Cole met her eye. “Do you swear to me that you knew nothing about this before you were brought here?”
“What?” her jaw dropped. “Yes, of course, I knew nothing about this. I never…I wouldn't….”
“Alright,” Cole said, as the guards approached. He looked startled for a moment, and then he remembered. “Right, last heir and all. Hello, boys.”
“What's happened?” Peter came out, not caring about the fact that there were hundreds in line waiting for him in the giant throne room. Cole filled him in, and his eyes widened.
“Yvette, are you sure?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said. “I hate to say it, because I loved him. I still love him. But if he's responsible for so much death…oh, my God, he could have killed me, too.”
“Find Thomas Donizetti,” Peter addressed the guards “And bring him here. He will answer for his crimes.”
“What will happen to him?” Yvette was afraid to ask.
“The penalty for crimes like that is death,” Peter said, and she closed her eyes.
When he had come for her, she never thought her world would be so tangled up in this.
Chapter 11
Yvette was lying in bed when she heard a knock on her door. She wasn't asleep; she hadn't been asleep since they said they had started searching for Thomas. It had been two days, and she felt like she was living on nervous energy, pacing and biting her nails.
For a whole year, she had been by Thomas' side–kissed him, loved him, given herself to him body and soul. She knew that his situation was complicated, and she knew that once she brought him up to date and cleared his mind, he may leave her. It was ironic and heartbreaking. Somewhere, there was a soul mate for Thomas, someone he had spent most of his life with. He didn't talk about it much; nor did he look for her, but Yvette knew she was there.
She knew that when she started this relationship with Thomas, he was just killing time. She thought that she would be alright with that. But as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months, her heart changed. And she thought that his mind was changing as well.
How long had he been orchestrating this plot? How long had he betrayed her? Had he known she would be in that shop with Peter? Did he care?
Was she ever really his at all?
“Come in,” she called through the door, trying to make her voice sound steady. She was already changed for the night, but whomever was knocking on the door probably needed her urgently.
It was Peter, which surprised her. He was usually far too busy to come see her personally. If he wanted her, he sent a message and she came to him. The last time she had seen him, he was in the throne room, looking regal and formal.
Now, he was dressed down. The crown was off his head, and his eyes were lidded. He was tired, that much was clear, as he leaned on the door frame.
“Well, don't just stand there,” she said, wiping tears away. She hated that she was crying; she hated being weak. “You can come in.”
“Why are you crying?” he asked, concerned. “Are you in pain?”
“No,” she managed. “I actually feel good today. Your magic, your technology here, makes me feel better than I ever did on Earth.”
“Ah,” he replied, sitting at the edge of the bed. “So, it is internal.”
She sm
iled at his choice of words. “You could say that, yes.”
“I am sorry,” he said, “to inform you that they have found Thomas.”
She took a short gasp, trying not to cry all over again.
“What will happen now?”
“They will be bringing him here to answer to me. I know you may think us harsh, but he will have a fair trial.”
“And your father?” she asked.
“They can't find him, but that it is, perhaps, no surprise,” Peter said. “He's well hidden, likely planning his next attack on my rule.”
“I don't think it's an attack on your rule, Peter,” she said, quietly. “I think it's a reinstatement of his. He wants the old ways back. He thinks he's still king.”
“He is king,” Peter said, softly. “I am being a usurper at the moment.”
“No one wants him as king. They are terrified of him!”
“Didn't you learn in all that history that you taught me that terror doesn't matter in a monarchy?” he managed to give her a small smile. “It's not about how terrified the people are. It's about where you were born in the line of succession.”
“Tyrant kings were overthrown all the time,” she said.
“Maybe,” his voice was soft. “By stronger men.”
She reached out to take his hand, squeezing it gently.
“You look exhausted,” she said. “Do you want to lie down with me?”
He paused and then accepted her invitation. Both of their heads hit the soft pillows, and he closed his eyes.
“Ah,” he said. “I have been dreaming of returning to the pillow all day.”
“Aren't you king? Can't you install a pillow on your throne?”
“I could,” he rolled over to face her. “But what if they decide to paint my portrait at that exact moment? Not the way I want to be remembered.”
“I'm quite sure you won't be remembered that way,” she replied, a smile on her face. He grasped her hand, looking into her eyes.
“Yvette, I would not still be here without you,” he said, softly.
“What do you mean?” she asked, although she knew exactly what he meant.
“Without you, I would no doubt vanish into the Other again,” he replied. “I have done it once, and I believe I have the strength in me to do it again. It would be simple and easy. When I returned, I had no interest in staying until the moment I met you.”
A Wolf's Embrace (Wolf Mountain Peak Book 4) Page 90
