Coveted

by Stacey Brutger

  Shaking her head at her own stupidity for getting into this mess, Shayla hurried into the darkness. She’d learned long ago that there was no fighting this kind of thing. If magic wanted her to know something, it could be relentless. She might not care for the spectacle it would create next time in guise of teaching her to pay better attention.

  Hiking up her skirt with one hand, she followed the beast down a narrow set of stone steps that had long since been worn away by time. The hallway was dusty but in good repair, the smell of oil, dirt and generations of smoke lingered in the confined space. The silence was eerie. There were no settling noises, no groaning of floorboards. All she heard in the darkness was her own breathing echoing against stone.

  A draft swirled around her ankles, the air cold and damp, just as she had imaged the rest of the castle would be like without the extensive remodeling. The passageway twisted and turned, narrowing until she was walking on hard-packed dirt. Every twenty feet or so they would pass a wooden door. Some were old and rotten, others oiled and apparently in perfect working condition.

  All were locked.

  When she was about to call it quits, she turned the corner to see her guide waiting for her. The large oak door with reinforced metal straps looked like it had survived for hundreds of years. Impenetrable. As she neared, the wolf darted right through the closed door and vanished. Great for the beastie, but not so much for her. Determined to see this through now that she’d come so far, Shayla grasped the cold ring and tugged.

  Much to her surprise, the door opened without any resistance. Stifling darkness blanketed the room, so she could barely make out any shapes.

  Something large moved toward her.

  In a room that had been locked for decades.

  Images of mummies and vampires popped into her head, and she let loose a stream of profanity as she scrambled backwards. It wasn’t until she recognized the black beast that her heart finally settled back into her chest.

  “You rotten, mangy beast. You did that on purpose.” The dog’s lips curled up in a very pointy grin as if enjoying his joke. Then he lifted a massive paw, thumping it against the large stand in the center of the room. The pedestal wobbled precariously, and a small box toppled to the floor.

  “Careful. I don’t want to get blamed if you break something.” Shayla bent to replace the box when the wolf set his giant paw on it, his green eyes intent on her.

  “Is this what you wanted me to see?”

  In an answer, he plopped his butt down and waited expectantly. Not willing to turn her back on the shade, Shayla tugged off the wooden lid. Air stilled as if holding its breath.

  Inside rested a cloth of some sort.

  Something ancient and powerful seeped into the room. The air became thicker, the small space a bit cooler.

  Shayla froze like an animal sensing a predator closing in on them, but the dog didn’t have any such qualms, nudging her hand as if impatient with her dillydallying. Prickly pain lashed across her skin at the contact, like a limb waking after having fallen numb. The box slipped from her grip, and the contents crashed to the floor for a second time.

  “Stop that.” She rubbed the back of her hand, glaring at the mutt.

  She scooped up the container, but halted when she spotted a silver chain that had spilled out onto the dirt.

  She gingerly picked up the metal links, gasping when a cloudy, oval stone shimmered into view. The gem was green, an emerald of some sort, and the size of her thumb. The color seemed to swirl, beckoning her closer.

  The wolf tipped back his head and gave a howl of triumph. His baritone cry ripped through the room, the sound vibrating uncomfortably in her chest. She covered her ears, gathering herself to run when the wolf’s form turned hazy.

  Before she could move, the beast leapt at her.

  Shayla fell on her backside, lifting her arms to protect herself. As the wolf hit the emerald, he vanished in a flash of green light. Fire surged up her arm, settling heavily under her skin.

  Every hair on her body stood on end, the static painful as she struggled to adjust to the sudden influx of magic. She curled her arm to her chest and gasped to see that the once dull emerald now appeared lit from within. When she peered closer, she could’ve sworn that an image of a wolf was etched into the gem when there had once only been murky stone.

  Desperate to get back to Aiden and away from any damming evidence of magic, Shayla picked up the necklace and scrambled from the room.

  * * *

  Aiden watched Shayla practically sprinted from the hall, the hem of her skirt snapping around her ankles as she disappeared through the door, and his pleasure in the evening evaporated. Aiden whirled, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he surveyed his men. “What are you buffoons trying to do? Tone it down before you scare her off.”

  The men shuffled uncomfortably.

  “Is she one of the Beloved?

  “Has she been tested?”

  The questions came from opposite sides of the room. Aiden snapped to attention, his blood pressure spiking. Whatever secrecy he’d been trying to maintain was well and truly gone.

  “We don’t know. And until we can guarantee her safety, she will not undergo any tests.”

  Mac rose from his seat and lifted his chin defiantly. “Test or no test, she’s in danger already. We would be better off knowing the truth, so we can form a plan to protect her.”

  Aiden whirled on his second-in-command. “She is my guest. Beloved or not, everyone here will do what they can to ensure no harm comes to her. Understood?”

  “You’ve slept with her.” Mac balled his fists, muscles corded on his arm, one step away from throwing a punch.

  It wasn’t a question, and Aiden’s smile wasn’t nice. “She’s mine.”

  Mac didn’t relent, didn’t back away from the challenge. “She could be bait. None of us can know for sure. All I’m asking is that she be tested. Then we’ll know if she can be trusted.”

  Mac knew his weaknesses and ruthlessly preyed on them. Aiden crossed his arms, barley refraining from beating his best friend into a bloody pulp, but it was a close call. “She doesn’t even know about us.”

  “Are you sure? Things didn’t go so well with the last woman you brought home.”

  Aiden wasn’t sure who threw the first punch. In seconds, the room erupted into an all-out brawl. Aiden grappled with Mac, exchanging blows.

  They would not take Shayla from him.

  He hammered at Mac, cursing the lack of his normal strength. His wolf snarled as if in agreement, and a rush of adrenaline coursed through his system. His teeth elongated, his nails lengthened. His torso, legs and arms bulked up. Aiden embraced the change and charged Mac. He gathered him in a bear hug, lifting him clear off the floor and slammed him down onto the stone, flat on his back, trying to knock the stupid out of him.

  “Yield.” Aiden flashed his canines as he spoke.

  Mac bared his teeth but subsided, offering his throat in surrender.

  Then he noticed the hem of a skirt in his peripheral vision.

  Shayla!

  Aiden ducked his head, shielding his face. His teeth retracted, his body melting back into his human form. The rage dissipated as panic surged up and took root in its place.

  How much had she seen?

  He heard no screaming.

  She hadn’t fallen to the floor in a dead faint.

  All good signs. He might be able to talk himself out of it yet.

  He straightened and surveyed the room. Some of the men were in partial transition. Others had completely turned wolf. As if noticing his regard, his men came to attention.

  Almost all.

  A body flew across the room, crashing into a table with a resounding thud. The table rocked, then ever so slowly tipped, spilling the man and the supper across the floor.

  There was no way she could’ve missed that.

  “Enough!” Everyone instantly froze.

  Dread compressed his chest, threatening to strangle him. Bracing
himself to face a hysterical female, Aiden slowly turned.

  And stopped short, completely dumbfounded to see Shayla calmly watching the scene.

  That’s when he understood.

  She knew.

  Had known all along.

  Mac’s accusation came back to haunt him. Aiden had shit luck in choosing woman in the past. He’d convinced himself that Shayla was different. Everything inside him rebelled at the idea that she would betray him, but the proof stood wide-eyed before him.

  The future he’d been painstakingly constructing for them crumbled, tasting like ash in his mouth. Emotions tangled in his chest, where they withered and died. Pain riddled his chest, and he wanted to carve out his heart, anything to relieve the ache deep that invaded his soul.

  So caught up in his own turmoil, it took him a few seconds to recognize the chain she clutched between her fingers. The ancient emerald shimmered with magic of the curse, ready to devour any female who touched it.

  Sudden fear pumped him, twisting his guts up in knots. It no longer mattered if she’d lied to him. He didn’t care if she was one of the Beloved or not. He just wanted her alive and well.

  Only the true of heart could pass the test.

  He had to get it away from her before she triggered the curse.

  “Where did you get that?” He barely recognized his hoarse voice. The sense of fate closing in on him increased. When he would’ve charged forward and ripped the pendant from her hands, Mac stepped in his way.

  “Let her answer.”

  Shayla hung back, carefully keeping out of reach. “It was in the basement.”

  A growl rumbled up his chest. Aiden knew she was special, but he had never guessed the extent of her power. “It was behind a locked door, buried in centuries of junk, stored in a sealed box.”

  She should’ve been safe.

  Shayla stiffened at his accusations, red flagging her cheeks. “I can assure you that I was not attempting to steal from you. I would do a better job of hiding my ill-gotten gains than carrying it around with me.”

  She’d leapt to the wrong conclusion. Aiden didn’t care if she wanted to rob him blind. She could have whatever she wanted.

  Anything and everything except that necklace.

  No one deserved to die a slow, agonizing death when the curse found them lacking. The magic in the necklace would infected them, their human bodies too fragile to hold the power, slowly burning them from the inside out.

  Aiden shrugged off Mac’s hold, already moving when Mac’s awed whisper reached his ears. “The wolf has chosen.”

  Fear curdled through Aiden’s soul, and his eyes dropped to the emerald. Or, more importantly, the wolf so prominently displayed. He half-expected her to vanish into thin air. Even though he let his men believe that she was Beloved to keep her near, he never hadn’t actually believed it.

  They were myths.

  The necklace put a lie to everything he’d told himself.

  He looked her over critically for any sign of injury. An adorable smudge of dirt stained her face. Her clothes and hair were disheveled, but her eyes glittered, reminding him of the afternoon they’d just spent together. The steady rhythm at the base of her neck reassured him. If he had any strength in his legs and thought she’d permit it, he’d march over there and pat her down.

  She’d survived.

  She never intended to betray him.

  Relief nearly dropped him to his knees. It also meant that she was one of the Beloved, elevated to royalty in the pack, and their brightest hope for the future. His canines lengthened, his body hardened, demanding that he claim her before anyone dared take her from him.

  It no longer mattered that she’d discovered the truth about werewolves and hidden it. The presence of the wolf in the necklace meant their fates were forever twined.

  “My apologies for touching your things. It won’t happen again.” Shayla set the necklace on the table, her posture stiff.

  Aiden felt the distance stretched between them, stealing the air from his very lungs. His fault. He was ashamed that he’d doubted her, contemplated risking her life for even a second to save his men.

  Regaining her trust wasn’t going to be easy.

  One thing kept him sane. He was the best tactician in the pack with decades perfecting his skills. He just needed to treat her as a battle to be won. The debilitating fear that had taken root in his mind eased its crippling hold. He’d never lost a war yet, and he had no intention of losing now.

  “Shayla—”

  The doors to the entrance slammed open. One of the younger wolves in training burst into the hall.

  “The walls have been breached. Trent is down. He’s alive but injured.”

  Aiden swung toward Shayla.

  They’d come for her.

  For one paralyzing second, he stood frozen. His wolf took advantage and surged forward, bulking up his form, demanding freedom to hunt.

  They would not give her up without a fight.

  By the time he wrestled back control, the damage had been done.

  Monster.

  Aiden could barely force his head up. Agonizing seconds passed before he final had the courage to face her.

  Shayla’s eyes widened at his appearance, then narrowed dangerously, her anger not abating one bit.

  His change hadn’t fazed her.

  Her anger shouldn’t have made him cheerful, but she wouldn’t have been mad if she didn’t still care. He turned to faced his men, almost cheerful at the prospect of a fight. “I want this place surrounded. Pair yourselves up, one human, one wolf. Sound off every fifteen minutes. Team one, you’re outside the walls. Bring me that intruder.”

  Everyone moved at once.

  “Where do you want me?”

  The men slowed, bumping into each other as they turned to watch.

  The chit dared to cross her arms and raised her chin as if she hadn’t just questioned their ability to keep her safe.

  He couldn’t blame her, but she would learn.

  Instead of answering, he advanced, scooping up the necklace until he stood in front her. He carefully lifted the chain over her head, the emerald settling between her breasts like a beacon.

  Then, without a word, he bent and tossed her over his shoulder. Air whooshed out of her lungs and he swiftly took the stairs three at a time before she could get her breath back to scream bloody murder. He shoved open her door, tossed her on the bed then lingered for a few precious seconds, captivated by the sight of her sprawled out for him. “I’m sorry. I can’t risk you being hurt. I’ll explain everything when I get back. I promise.”

  Shayla tossed her hair out of her face, her eyes narrowing as she scrambled to get to her feet. “Don’t you dare lock me in this room!”

  Aiden beat a hasty retreat, her demand a hiss at his back. As he shut and barred the door behind him, he knew he would pay dearly for it when he returned. Something thudded against the wood, and he smiled.

  “At least you could leave me with a weapon.”

  “And have you use it against me when I return?” Aiden turned on his heel, stalking down the hallway, giving his beast the freedom he craved.

  His bones stretched and snapped as they reshaped into his werewolf form. Hair sprouted along his body. His torso lengthened, his teeth sharpened. Nails burst from the beds of his fingers, and he welcomed the pain.

  There was no need to hide anymore.

  He tossed back his head and howled.

  A chorus of cries joined with his. He bounded down the steps in two leaps, his legs easily taking the brunt of the impact.

  “McHenry, guard her with your life.”

  The old man nodded, a gleam of pride in his eyes at being selected to guard the Chosen.

  “Good hunting, my lord.”

  Aiden flashed his teeth, eager to eliminate anyone who’d dare enter his lair. He gazed over to his men and nodded to the bloodthirsty lot. “Find them and bring them back to me.”

  Chapter Twenty

&
nbsp; Shayla glared at the door.

  Locked.

  Again.

  It was her own damned fault. She should’ve seen it coming. Something shifted when she’d located that blasted necklace. The way Aiden looked at her, so cold and unforgiving, she had expected to be escorted to the dungeon. After everything that had passed between them, his lack of trust tasted bitter on her tongue, the loss of what could’ve been clogging her throat until she couldn’t swallow.

  It required all her strength to give up the stone to Aiden. She couldn’t take her gaze from the wolf etched on the gem. The instant it left her hand, she wanted to snatch it back. Her body went cold, frost burrowing beneath her skin, but not enough to numb the pain he’d inflicted.

  Then his whole demeanor changed when they came under attack. Aiden had given the necklace back to her, setting it around her neck like a pledge. His distrust still hurt, but the necklace was obviously important to him and his pack.

  The expressions of such awe on their faces freaked her out a little.

  But it gave her hope that he entrusted it to her.

  Her hands tightened possessively, the warmth of the stone almost alive as it tingled against her fingers.

  Comforting.

  The old wolf connected her to the necklace somehow.

  Her thoughts drifted to Aiden, and her inability to figure him out frustrated the shit out of her. One minute he was playful and loving, the next, the caveman beat at his chest and took control.

  Light sparked off the faceted edges of emerald, drawing her attention. She squinted to see better and things went black.

  She fell into darkness and found herself outside. Wind buffeted her and she glanced around, noticing the angles were all wrong. She was standing too tall. Seeing too much in the inky night sky. Smells inundated her until she could taste them. The gritty musk she recognized as Aiden surrounded her. “Aiden?”

  Movement stopped.

  “Shayla?” Her name was jumbled by a mouth full of teeth.

  The necklace had somehow dropped her into Aiden’s head.