Tears pooled in my eyes for the loss of him. Though he was a stubborn ass, he was my brother. And I loved him. “It doesn’t matter.”
One of Father’s expressions of disapproval crossed his face.
I steeled myself against the pain of hurting him with the truth. “And God help you, Demetrius, if you keep following in Father’s footsteps and turn out like him…”
He physically blanched, paling at my words. I’d expected a sneer of disgust, not the clear gaze of someone lost or trapped.
Aron stepped forward. Corded muscle bunched beneath my fingers where I held onto Lucius. He tried to shrug me aside, but I knew if I let go he would launch himself at Aron and finish the job he’d started last night. Demetrius froze, as if he knew the slightest movement would trigger the man at my side to unleash the rage simmering beneath the surface. Hatred burned in Aron’s eyes, mirroring the same expression from Lucius.
Aron glanced at my arm as I held Lucius tight, inching forward. He hooked one hand casually in his back pocket, the other he reached toward me, palm-out—a disarming gesture that belied the anger simmering in his expression. “Jessen, you must know it was never a business deal to me.” He spoke in a low tone, tight with restrained emotion. “I will take care of you.”
I wanted to laugh, but the dark, brutal sound rumbling from Lucius kept me quiet and still.
“Don’t ever speak to her again.” Fury vibrated in the air. Heat radiated from his body, burning under my fingertips. Electricity sparked around us, the same way it did that night at Acropolis.
People murmured behind us. Tension wrapped us like a fist squeezing tight. No one wanted to back away first. My brother must’ve realized the escalating danger, the only one thinking logically at the moment. “We’ll go,” he finally said, a grim expression that appeared to hide sorrow tightening his brow and jaw. “If this is what you want, Jessen.”
“No,” Aron ground out. He’d dropped his hand that he held out to me, his thumb twitching nervously against his thigh. His gaze slid from me to Lucius, a frightening glare of malice and contempt. “You’re nothing but an animal. An abomination. You’re not fit to wipe her feet.”
Someone gasped behind us. Lucius was a fraction away from slaughtering Aron, and maybe my brother with him, rage roiling off his body in a tangible ripple.
I tugged on Lucius’s arm. “Let’s go,” I whispered low, but my words weren’t reaching him. He was locked on his target. Demetrius stepped toward Aron as if to manhandle him into leaving. The second Demetrius took hold of Aron’s arm, still twitching against his leg, he pulled a silver-plated gun from the back of his jeans and aimed it directly at Lucius. An audible gasp swelled from the crowd behind us.
“A Volt gun! Are you out of your fucking mind!” my brother yelled, yanking Aron’s arm. “I said no force!”
Acid churned in my stomach. Bile rose in my throat. Certain death was aimed at Lucius. And the man with the trigger hated him with every breath he sucked into his lungs.
Aron shoved Demetrius so hard, he stumbled and fell sideways to the pavement. Aron’s gun and stormy gaze steadied on Lucius, though he spoke directly to me. “Come with me, Jessen, or I’ll kill him. I’ll let him live as long as you leave with me right now.” I could only imagine what he planned to do to me once he got me alone. Like hell I would.
Lucius flared his wings to full span, breaking free of my hold. I recognized Aron’s deadly intent, knowing if his aim hit home, I would lose the man I loved. Before Lucius could shove me aside out of harm’s way, I flung myself in front of him the second Aron pulled the trigger. Meant for his heart, the shot landed squarely on my right shoulder. Someone screamed from the watching crowd. A jolt of vibrating pain slammed into me. I collapsed to the ground. Curled on my side, I rode the waves of voltage, feeling like blades of fire stabbing through my veins.
“What the fuck, Aron!” Demetrius’s voice was full of rage. “You fucking shot my sister!” I glimpsed my brother, eyes wide with fear, scrambling to his feet. “Jessen!”
I squeezed my eyes shut in pain, the sounds of a scuffle. Then Aron cried out.
I heard Lucius’s wings snap and the roar of blasting fire. He erected a wall of fire between them and us. Angry flames of orange and red snaked ten feet tall. When my brother tried to move around it, the wall shifted unnaturally, flaring bright, obeying its master’s will.
Nausea churned in my stomach. The voltage blast had rattled my insides. Made to kill a Morgon, the blast could kill a human, too, stopping the heart with a direct hit. Somehow, mine was still beating, though my vision clouded.
“She’s my sister. Please. I need to see her!”
He gathered me in his arms and faced my brother through leaping flames. “She is my wife!” Growling words. He used the human term for our bond to make it clear to Demetrius where I belonged. “If any of you try to harm her, speak to her, or come within even a block of her again, I will blast you into a pile of ash at my feet and blow your fucking dust to the wind. It won’t matter if she begs for your life, because I won’t spare you again. Am I making myself absolutely clear?”
Demetrius must’ve made some sign of understanding because I felt the now-familiar bend of Lucius’s knees before he took flight. With a jerk of his chin, a section of the firewall arced out, covering dome-like over Aron, pressing down slowly. The last thing I saw before my head slumped to his shoulder was my brother beating the flames with his jacket. The last thing I heard was Aron’s screams.
Then we were in the air. I tried not to move, but the pain continued to throb. “It burns.”
“I know. Hang on.” He pressed his lips against my temple.
I gripped one arm around his shoulder, the other limp from the pain radiating from the blast injury, burning its way through my skin. I whimpered.
“It’ll be alright,” he murmured. “The pain will be gone soon, love. Hang on.”
We were flying at a dizzying speed, despite my injury. “Thank you,” I murmured.
“For what?”
“For not killing my brother.”
“It would’ve caused you more pain.” He made a choking sound in his throat. “Besides, I should be thanking you.” He kept his eyes on the sky but he pressed his lips to my temple again. “You saved my life.”
“Of course, I did.”
He cradled me tighter.
“You said I’m your wife,” I said dreamily, feeling cold and listless. “I’m not your wife though. Not yet.”
“Yes, you are.”
“We haven’t had a wedding.”
He gazed down at me as he flew, his wings knowing where to take me. “Soulfire binds us beyond any ceremony. You gave yourself to me, and I gave myself to you. This is all that is needed for a heartbonding. If a ceremony will make you happy, it’s the first thing we’ll do when you’re better.”
He was sure I would heal, giving me courage, for the throbbing pain was becoming more unbearable by the second.
“We humans like our traditions.” I whispered the words, my voice sounding distant.
He smiled, cradling me close. “My human will have whatever her heart desires.”
We landed hard. He was calling my name when I slipped into unconsciousness.
I awoke to a chilling sensation numbing my right shoulder. “Ow!”
Shakara Icewing hovered over me, her green eyes wide and dilated. “Oh, sorry! I know it stings, but it won’t last long.”
Someone squeezed my hand. I turned my head to find Lucius peering down. I was in his bedroom. Our bedroom.
He gave me a reassuring smile, though the lines around his mouth and eyes were tight. He nodded at Shakara. “I think one more time.”
“Yes. Once more.”
She inhaled a deep breath. Icy blue flames streamed from her mouth onto my bare shoulder. I flinched away at the fierce burn of cold. Lucius held me still with a comforting but firm grip on my other shoulder. I gasped. A prickly sensation tingled from my wound, spreading chilly adre
naline through my veins.
“What—how—”
Shakara ended the stream of blue flame, smiling sweetly. “I think that’ll do it.”
“What did you do?”
Lucius brushed the back of his knuckles along my cheek. “It’s coldfire.”
“Coldfire? I’ve never heard of it. I don’t understand.”
Shakara wrapped a gauzy bandage over my wound and shoulder, taping it with medical adhesive. “We don’t share all of our gifts with humans. It can be used against us.”
“Like a Volt gun,” I said, glancing at Lucius. The fire had obeyed Lucius, and I wondered if this was a power of the Nightwing clan only. We had lots to discuss later.
Lucius nodded. “Shakara is one of the Icewing clan. They have a special gift in using coldfire.”
“It heals?” It must, because my wound tightened as if stitched by hand. The sting long-gone.
“Yes,” said Shakara. “We are healers, but only of flesh wounds. We can’t heal internal wounds or injuries of the mind. “Also,” she paused, lowering dark lashes over her eyes. “It will leave a mark.”
I nodded, swallowing hard, and tried not to imagine the ugly, blistering scar I would carry over most of my shoulder. “Scars mean nothing.” I turned my head back to Lucius. “A small price to pay.”
I lifted my hand to his face, tracing the line of his granite jaw. He closed his eyes, turned into my palm, and pressed a tender kiss to the center of my hand.
I turned to Shakara. “Thank you. I’ll pay whatever you charge for…for your healing services.”
“No charge.” She smiled, making her face more beautiful. “Actually, there is something you could do for me.”
“Anything.”
She glanced at Lucius who seemed to know what she was about to ask, because he nodded.
“I’m going to open a clinic in the Warwick District. To treat humans as well as Morgons. I want to do more than help my own kind. I want to help everyone.”
“That’s a wonderful idea. But, I don’t understand. How can I help?”
Her smile slipped, then she glanced at Lucius, a frown crinkling her brow.
“What Shakara is trying not to say is that humans, like Morgons, can be quite closed-minded. Not all of them will welcome the help of someone of her kind. Of our kind.”
I smiled, more sure than ever of my place in the Morgon world. Perhaps, Lucius and I could be a positive example of what love can do. Sometimes, people needed a bridge to cross over from hatred to love. I didn’t mind being that bridge, even if it was stepped on too roughly from time to time.
Shakara started tentatively, “You, and Lucius,” she glanced at him, “are both influential people in your circles. You’re Jessen Cade.”
“Not for long,” mumbled Lucius, squeezing my hand with a possessive look and a bit of a self-satisfied smirk.
Shakara rolled her pretty eyes. The gesture seemed so unlike her, I giggled, despite the soreness still in my shoulder.
“At any rate, you being from the Cade family, well, it could help dispel people’s fears if you supported my venture.”
My heart squeezed at the idea of doing some good, of bringing humans and Morgonkind together. Even in a small way. “Of course. I’ll help you in whatever way I can to make that happen. You have my word.”
“Thank you.” She patted my hand laying on the covers. “I’ll let you rest.” She smiled again then excused herself and left the room.
When she was gone, he turned to me sharply. “Don’t ever do that again.” His voice grew rough with tortured pain.
“What?”
“Risk your life for me.” Pain pinched his face into tight lines.
“Oh. Next time I should just step aside and watch you die? I don’t think so. I’d do it again.” The swirl of emotion deepening his gaze flew straight to my heart. “You’re my mate, remember? There is no life without you.”
Lucius stretched himself out alongside my body, draping one of his legs across mine in a possessive, protective move. Leaning on one elbow, he cupped my cheek, and then brushed his lips over mine in a slow, sensuous caress, making sure he had my attention. He did.
“Then I will spend our long, happy, prosperous, fertile life together ensuring you never have to.”
“Fertile?”
“Mmm-hmm.” His hand wandered to my hip, squeezing gently.
“You like kids?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“You want kids?”
“Lots.” His large hand spread wide, long fingers splaying possessively over the place where I would one day hold his child.
Children! A thrill shot through me. “Do you think they’ll be Morgon?”
“Undoubtedly. Morgon genes are strong. Very dominant.”
“Undoubtedly.” I grinned.
His lips brushed over mine, his tongue lining the seam, then pressed deeper.
Before I fell into a sensual abyss, he pulled away suddenly, a frown creasing his gorgeous face. “That doesn’t bother you, does it?”
I had to refocus to remember what we were talking about. I smiled. “No. Of course not. But if we’re to have lots of kids, we better get started. Or at least practice.”
“Mmm. Practice. Yes.” Luscious lips smiled against mine. “Lots.”
Chapter 16
The two priests—Morgon and human—laughed over their pints of beer. The human priest was dressed in a floor-length, black cassock—a portly, friendly-looking fellow. The gray-winged Morgon was garbed in snow-white robes, his long, silver-white hair pulled back in a neat tail. Natural in one another’s company, they looked like they’d performed dozens of inter-species weddings together.
“Not a bad turnout for the first public mixed-marriage ceremony,” Lucius commented at my elbow. “Still, sorry your mother and sister didn’t show.” A comforting hand rested at the small of my back.
Pain twisted my heart. “I knew they wouldn’t. Father probably burned the invitation and confined them to the house under guard watch, lock and key, knowing today was the day.”
Lucius rubbed his hand soothingly in slow trails up and down my back. As it was, Moira’s comm device had already been disconnected. It cut me to the heart, but I knew he couldn’t lock my sister up forever. She would find a way to reach me. Eventually. She was a clever girl and more strong-willed than I was at her age. She would challenge him left and right, more so than either me or Demetrius. Maybe that’s just what Father needed to realize the error of his ways.
The day after I was shot and Lucius burned Aron, I received a comm message from Demetrius. After making sure I was all right, he informed me that in no way would Aron pursue legal action against Lucius. A Morgon using fire against a human held the death penalty. But Aron had also tried to kill Lucius with a Volt gun, injuring me instead. Demetrius said that after what Aron had done and tried to do to me at the ball—since I’d given my brother as many details as I could stand when he’d asked—he would make sure Aron Grayson never bothered me again. Ever. In that moment, I loved my brother more than I ever had. It was like he’d returned to me after being gone a long, long time. The brother who’d played and laughed and bonded with me as a child. Not the brother who’d been following in my father’s shadow the past few years, growing more distant all the time. There was hope for him yet.
Lorian stood on Lucius’s left, a silent supporter. I liked my new brother-in-law. Something wild flitted behind those otherworldly eyes. Hell, every Nightwing I knew held a look of danger in his bearing, though Lorian seemed more like an uncaged animal, restless and watching.
The head of the family stepped before me—my new father-in-law, Adicus. He took my hand in his. “You are a lovely addition to our family. And though circumstances may be difficult, you are now one of us.”
He didn’t need to clarify. I was the daughter of his chief, human rival. And yet, he still accepted me. He congratulated Lucius, nodded to Lorian, and moved on.
“Why the frown, love?”
Lucius threaded his fingers through mine. “Soulfire binds you to me as if we were blood. And also to the rest of the family. Therefore, you are undeniably one of us.”
A warmth spread through me. Though I’d lost my own family, I’d gained another one, a fiercely loyal fight-to-the-death-for-me family. Lucius pressed a kiss to my scarred shoulder as he’d been doing constantly since we’d removed the bandage.
I wore a halter-style, white satin dress to bare my mark to the world, a mark that tied me even more to my Morgon clan. Shakara hadn’t told me what kind of scar would be left from coldfire. I had learned later the pattern differs for everyone.
Beginning from the point of entry of the voltage blast, a pinwheel pattern spiraled outward in what appeared to be iridescent scales. My skin felt as smooth as the rest of me. I liked the way the design shimmered under the lights, like a pale kaleidoscope of color, branding me as a Morgon’s mate. Shakara had explained to me the scale-like appearance was the same for every coldfire healing, remnants of their dragon, but the color and pattern always differed. Like a snowflake. The Morgons, who greeted me, smiled or nodded their approval upon seeing the mark, knowing precisely how I’d gotten it.
Ella walked up at that second, her eyes flicking to my scar.
“Jess, I have to go, but congratulations again on your, uh, on your—”
I laughed at her struggle to know what to call our union. It seemed quite a few still didn't know the correct way to treat a mixed marriage or heartbonding.
“Thank you.” I put her out of her misery and hugged her. “I’m so glad you came.”
“I wish I could stay longer but mom thinks I’m at the library studying for finals.” She rolled her eyes.
I gave her a sympathetic smile. Her mother had forbid her to associate with me again since I’d “switched sides.” Ella might be timid, but she was loyal with more strength than her parents would ever know. She moved to stand in front of Lucius, offering her small hand in congratulations. I noticed it trembled, her wide eyes raised high.
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