by Danica Avet
One woman in particular drew his attention, and he frowned at her. She looked like Saga and her sister, Ocean, except there was a stronger sense of power in her gaze. The hair on the back of his neck stood straight up. He pulled Isola closer to him and planted his feet wide apart.
“Who the hell are you?” he demanded when the woman cocked an eyebrow at him.
“I’m her queen,” she answered coolly, not at all impressed with his aggression. “Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m her mate.”
She snorted. “We’ll see, minotaur. I don’t allow just anyone into my camp.”
The challenge to his hold on Isola’s future threatened to send him into the Minotaur’s Rage. “I don’t plan to live in your camp. My mate and I will stay here.”
“I don’t think so. She belongs with her family.”
“She belongs with her mate,” he growled back at her, his hands crushing Isola to his chest.
“I don’t think this is the time to worry about that,” some asshole with dimples and dark hair suggested as he stepped forward. “I’m Malachi Cromwell, this is my mate, Noelani Fayard.” He introduced himself with his hand on a small fairy’s shoulder. “Izzy needs to be cared for before any plans can be made. We also need to get some GEs in here to handle cleanup and I’d like to take—”
“Ormond’s body is gone!” Rosetta shouted, drawing everyone’s attention back to the end of the hall.
Grant swiveled around to see the bloody stain where he’d dropped the body and nothing else. “How?”
Three official-looking people crowded around the site, their heads together. The tallest, a male vampire with long black and red hair, answered Grant’s question. “Looks like one of the demons teleported them out.”
“Fuck!”
“He was dead, though, wasn’t he?” Rosetta asked in a demanding tone.
Everyone exchanged uneasy glances. Grant was almost positive Ormond had been dead. There was no way he could’ve survived being gored like that. At least he was pretty sure it was impossible. He frowned.
“What about the others?” Ocean asked as she nudged an unconscious Halfling. “These Halflings are as much victims of Ormond’s deeds as the rest of the Veilerians.”
It was Malachi who spoke up, casting the long-haired male a hard glance. “I’ll take responsibility for them. Lani and I will make sure they don’t cause any trouble. Maybe they can be helpful in finding where Ormond’s body was taken.” He paused, his face tight. “Even if Ormond is dead, that doesn’t mean this is over, you know that, right? He might’ve been the Overlord, but he wasn’t the only Eturian who wanted to see the Veil fall.”
“Well, there’s nothing we can do about it right now,” Ricky interrupted when several people started talking. “We need to get out of here, get patched up, and let cleanup crews come through before the humans are drawn here.”
Grant agreed since he could feel Isola stirring against him. If she awoke now, before the witches had a chance to heal her, she’d be in excruciating pain, and even as pissed off as he was, he wouldn’t wish that on her for anything.
The transfer from the tunnels to topside was accomplished in a short time. Grant reluctantly handed Isola up to Fallon so he could climb the ladder, but he grabbed her as soon as he was upstairs. The incubus sent him a knowing glance, but he ignored the bastard.
Ricky’s deputies had secured the perimeter of the building and as the rest of the group filtered out of the tunnel, Guardian Elites showed up to strengthen the deputies’ numbers. Grant didn’t care about the site; he just wanted Isola in his bed, resting.
“Dammit, I forgot it was late afternoon,” the long-haired male muttered. He squinted pale green eyes at the weak sunlight. “Fields, get Tawny to bring the van closer. If I go home with burns, Ruby’ll have my ass.”
“Yeah, since you told her she had to stay behind,” Albreda shot back with a smirk. “My niece does not like being told what to do, Lucian. I thought someone as smart as you would’ve figured that out by now.”
Lucian frowned, ignoring Malachi’s smirk. “Ruby’s pregnant.”
“Again?” the Amazons all asked in unison.
“Holy crap, y’all are gonna need a bigger house if you keep up the way you’re going!” Rosetta exclaimed with a laugh.
Isola stirred in Grant’s arms. He looked down to see her eyes blinking open. Her lips were pressed together tightly and lines of strain marked her face.
“We have to get to my place.”
Fallon looked at him, then at Isola. “I can take her to your house and get her settled.”
Grant didn’t want the incubus taking his mate anywhere, but reluctantly admitted to himself that it would be safer and easier for Isola if she were teleported instead of driven back to his place. Gritting his teeth because it was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, he handed his tender burden to Fallon.
“You’d better fucking take care of her.” He growled in a low tone.
The incubus only nodded with a half-smile and disappeared in a puff of smoke.
A large hand clapped Grant on the back. He looked to see Lucian looming over him. The bastard was tall, very tall. “Why don’t you ride with us in the van? We have some questions for you.”
He was already being herded to the vehicle when he noticed the Amazons weren’t joining them. It was just him, Lucian, Malachi, the water elemental, and the tiny demoness. He heaved an inward sigh. It looked as though he was about to face an interrogation. Fucking joy.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
She squeezed her eyes shut. If she opened them, she knew she was in trouble. She could feel it hovering in the air above her. Izzy wasn’t sure she could deal with whatever shitstorm was gathering over her and manage her pain at the same time.
She hurt from the ends of her hair to the tips of her toes. Had one of her sisters thrown her in front of a train like they’d always threatened? No, she was almost positive that hadn’t happened. For one thing, she remembered leaving Grant’s house under her own steam, being kidnapped by Dov, Grant killing Dov…then, Ormond Steele.
Her eyes snapped open. It took a few minutes for her pupils to adjust to the weak sunlight pouring through the window next to the bed. The ceiling looked familiar. That’s when she realized it was her room at Grant’s house. Once she established where she was, Izzy let her gaze travel the room. She seemed to be alone. She frowned. But if she was alone, why did she feel that weird vibe…
Grant sat in the darkest corner of the room. The shadows covered the top half of his body, leaving his lower stomach, hips, and legs in the light. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and the only reason she knew it was him was she’d spent so many days memorizing his bellybutton.
He didn’t speak, didn’t even twitch, and for one hopeful moment, she thought he was asleep. But no, even as she prayed that she would be spared just a little longer, the muscles in his stomach flexed as he shifted slightly.
“You’re quite the hero, Isola,” he stated in a flat voice.
Okay, that wasn’t quite what she’d expected to hear. A part of her, the stupid, girly part had wanted him to take her in his arms and confess his feelings for her. She gave a mental snort. It was obvious the stupid bull only wanted her for a mate because his fucking ring had told him she was his. It had nothing to do with feelings and she was an idiot for thinking she mattered beyond that mystical connection.
“No comment? You saved the day. I figured you’d be crowing about your triumph,” Grant continued in a silky voice.
“What triumph?” Izzy finally asked although it sounded more like a croak from suppressing her urge to cry. When she felt better, she was going to kick his ass for hurting her feelings.
“You saved my life,” he gritted out, leaning forward in his chair so he could pin her in place with his glare. “You threw yourself between me and Ormond and saved the fucking day.” His cold voice rubbed her nerves the wrong way. “You must be so proud of yourself. Your queen is talking about cutting your exile
short, and I overheard a couple of the Councilors talking about making you an apprentice.”
Izzy’s jaw dropped. “What?”
“You heard me. Your ‘heroic deeds,’” he snarled as he made air quotes, “earned you the respect of your tribe and the High Council. You’re the girl of the hour and everyone wants a piece of you. Congratulations.”
He flung the last word at her as he surged to his feet. Izzy blinked up at him, not sure what he was getting at. She wasn’t stupid, regardless of what others thought. She knew he was upset, but she didn’t know why.
“What the fuck is your problem?” she finally blurted because his anger only fueled her own. She couldn’t believe him! He was acting as though he was jealous, or something!
Grant’s blue eyes narrowed on her and his nostrils flared. He looked so different without his septum piercing and she felt a brief flash of sorrow that he’d lost it. Then she remembered why it had fallen out and her sorrow turned to anguish. They were mates, but he’d left her, just as she’d known he would.
He stalked towards her, that weird vibe she’d felt upon waking growing stronger the closer he came. Her skin felt ultra sensitive, pebbling beneath the wave of whatever power he exuded. It was strange, but strangely erotic. Her nipples tightened into painful knots, and her womb flexed.
Grant didn’t stop until he was next to the bed and leaned down to cage her between his arms. He lowered himself until his face was all she could see. His breath wafted across her face smelling of coffee and mint. From this close up, she saw the grain of his skin, the silver shards in his blue eyes, and the raw anger in his gaze.
“My problem, Isola, is that I never asked you to put your life in danger for me. My problem is with your careless disregard for your life and the unnecessary risks you took.”
She gaped at him as her brain tried to process his words. Was this some kind of macho bullshit? Did he feel less masculine because she’d saved his life?
That’s when her anger flared to life, burning hot enough to set the bed on fire. Without thinking, she jabbed her finger into his chest, ignoring the pain that shot up her shoulder at the movement.
“I don’t need your fucking permission to be myself.” She growled, punctuating her words with a meaningful poke. “And I saved your life because I didn’t want you to die, you asshole!”
* * * *
Grant stared down at the very pissed-off, battered, and hurt face of his mate. Isola’s eyes spit fire and passion, but she couldn’t hide the pain in the chocolate brown depths. He didn’t know if it was from her injuries or his words, but something inside him shifted at her declaration.
Warmth filled his chest, replacing the anger he’d felt at her total disregard for her own life. She cared for him, which he was eternally grateful for, but she hadn’t said the magic words. It was a step in the right direction, but it wasn’t enough for the kind of commitment he wanted from her. They still had some issues to work out. Mainly her inability to stay out of trouble.
“You think my life is more valuable than yours?” he demanded as he stared into her bruised face. “Dammit, Isola! What do you think would’ve happened to me if you had died?”
He watched as disbelief appeared in her eyes. “I wasn’t planning on dying, jackass.” She relaxed back against her pillow, closing her eyes as though tired. “As surprising as this might sound to you and my tribe, I’m not an idiot. It was a controlled risk.”
“I was looking right at you. You didn’t even stop to think! You just barreled across the room!”
Her eyes snapped open again, glaring up at him. “Gods, Grant! You were the one who wasn’t thinking! You were running towards me, and Ormond was gunning for you.” To his complete surprise tears flooded her eyes. “I couldn’t just let you throw your life away for me. You have a family who loves you, who would’ve grieved for you. As much as I don’t like your mom, I wouldn’t wish that pain on her. How could I look her in the eye afterwards if you’d died? How would I have been able to look at myself in the mirror when I was the only one closest to prevent it?”
A silvery tear spilled down her cheek, quickly followed by another and another. Isola turned her face away from him, leaving him to stare at her profile.
She sniffed and scrubbed her hand across her face, erasing her tears. “I’ll never be the kind of woman who sits on the sidelines watching the game. I was born and raised a warrior. It’s part of who I am.” She turned to stare at him, the light in her eyes letting him know that this moment would make or break them. “I like who I am, Grant. I like the fact that I’m loud and obnoxious and have bad timing. I like that my sisters know they can count on me to have their backs. I won’t change that part of my personality for anything, so if you don’t like it, just go the fuck away and never come back.”
He’d thought he was pissed before, but that had nothing on how he felt now. “You’re my mate. If I go, you come with me.”
Her eyes were cold. “That’s what this is all about?” She scoffed. “You’re still trying to make me into your idea of a perfect mate? I hate to break it to you, Raging Bull, but if I leave you, you won’t be following me.”
The minotaur rose to the forefront of his mind, clawing with the need to make her understand that their mating was forever, but Grant held him back. It wouldn’t do his cause any good to ruin his chances with her. As he stared at her, he realized she was right and he was an asshole.
He loved her because of her strength and loyalty, how could he condemn her for those same qualities when they were focused in his direction?
“You didn’t jump in the way because you doubted I could handle myself?” He hated asking the question, hated revealing his insecurities to her. When her gaze softened, he let out the breath he’d been holding.
Chocolate brown eyes searched his face as though trying to understand the question. “I know you’re a total badass, you idiot. You took on a whole room of shifters by yourself, not to mention a mass of imps.”
He couldn’t help but smile. “Not killer nymphs?”
Isola’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “You can’t send a bull to do an Amazon’s job, honey. As much as I love you, you seem to think women aren’t dangerous.”
His heart stopped beating, he was sure it had. He could only watch as her eyes widened as realization of what she’d said poured through her. A blush started at the edge of the sheet, washing up her neck before settling in her face. Her lashes lowered as though she could hide her feelings and Grant couldn’t allow that.
“You can’t take it back,” he murmured as he brushed his lips over hers. He rubbed his nose against hers teasingly. “You love me, you really love me.”
“You ass.”
Grant clucked, feeling as though his body would explode from the happiness inside him. “You love my ass.” He kissed the tip of her nose. The disgruntled look on her face forced him to pull back a little. “What’s wrong?” How could anything be wrong? She loved him, he loved her…they were going to be fucking awesome together.
She poked him in the chest. “You’re supposed to respond in kind. Ass.”
That’s when he saw the vulnerability in her eyes. “Gods, Isola, how could you even doubt that I love you?” He stroked his hand over her thick hair, her soft cheek. “You’ve been driving me crazy from the moment you threatened to castrate me. When you were hurt protecting me, I thought I’d go out of my mind!”
Her lips curved into a self-satisfied smile. “You did?”
Grant glared at her. “Don’t ever do that again, dammit.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “I don’t think I could live without you, baby. I don’t even want to think about it, so have some mercy.”
She studied him carefully. “Okay, I’ll try not to get myself killed again, but no promises.”
It wasn’t quite what he wanted to hear, but it was better than a flat refusal, so Grant took it. As gently as he could to compensate for her wounds, he kissed her with all of the passion and love he felt for her.
His mate, as usual, nearly blew his socks off, her tongue rasping against his with an urgency that made his blood thicken with need. He had to remind himself that she wasn’t in any condition to make love, but damn if she didn’t make him wish she was. She suckled on his tongue and his cock throbbed with want.
“Grant Torrance Strickland, you let go of that girl right now!”
* * * *
Izzy winced more from the pain in her shoulder than embarrassment. For a moment when Grant was kissing her, she’d forgotten all about her hurts. He loved her, had claimed she drove him crazy. Was there any greater compliment?
Of course, then his mother had ruined the moment. Grant leapt away from her so quickly he jostled her, causing her to gasp with agony. She groaned, closing her eyes. She wanted to die, the pain was so bad.
“Ma—”
“Don’t ‘Ma’ me, Grant Strickland! That girl needs to rest. She doesn’t need you pawing at her like a bull in rut.” Izzy heard Bella’s voice near and knew the cow-swan was advancing on the bed. “You go and talk to that nice vampire about your business. He had some more questions about it.”
Izzy opened her eyes to see Grant hesitating, looking between her and his mother. She could tell he was uneasy about leaving her with Bella, especially in her weakened condition, but when he caught her eye, she gave him a nod. Now was as good a time as any to try to iron things out with his mother.
She gave an inner wince when the cow-swan looked at her. Yeah, she would’ve preferred to be on her feet for this, but she was willing to tough it out to be with Grant.
The door closed behind her mate and silence filled the room, thick and heavy. Bella fidgeted with the collar of her dress. Her hands danced down to the buttons as she meandered to the window next to the bed.
Izzy didn’t know what the fuck to do with herself either except fidgeting was not an option. Her fingers twitched with the need to do something and blinding pain shot up her shoulder.
She must’ve made some kind of noise because Bella whirled to look at her. “Oh, you need to just stop all that moving right now,” the cow advised as she neared the bed. “The witches aren’t sure how long it would take you to recover from whatever that monster did to you.”
