I focused everything I had on him. “I see fire.” A lot of fire—and a sword. “Bryn, he's back!” I ran for the door. She didn't need me to clarify who he was. Only one man in the world would send that gut-wrenching fear into us. Gabriel.
“Aylin, wait!” she called.
But too late. I was already out the door and headed for my black beast of a truck.
***
Time stopped. Everything slowed except the roar of my truck barreling down the road. My hands gripped the steering wheel. I floored the gas. My tires squealed around a sharp curve; still, I raced forward.
The imprint on my wrist burned. Darkness caused the light to weaken and fade. Black strands circled my half-moon, trying to envelope it. I swerved off the road—too enthralled with the changes in my imprint.
I ran a stop sign. A horn blared. But I refused to slow down.
Connor, I called. Chanting a healing charm, I forced it to him, trying to connect my bond with his—if he had one. If he was mine. Doubt clouded my vision, but I washed it away.
He needed me.
I turned left, heading straight for Murphy's Bar. My mind pulled me back to the outskirts of town and Connor's brief touch upon my skin earlier that night. When I felt a slight shift in my imprint. It was such a small alteration, but it changed everything.
Last call would have been announced by now. Patrons would be stumbling home to their wives or partners, but I sped forward.
Red flames flashed through my eyes. Melded into a sword. A forward thrust.
A guttural scream chased away the images.
It came from me.
I was still screaming when I swung into Murphy's parking lot. Gravel flew. My truck skidded as I slammed on the brakes beside Connor's Hummer.
I headed for Murphy’s door. Each step sent chills down my spine.
A slight movement stopped me in my tracks. Just the briefest flicker of motion to the right of the Hummer had caught my eye. A motionless dark figure lay crumpled on the ground beside Connor's vehicle.
For a nanosecond in time, I froze. My bravery, my training, my need to rescue Connor—Gone.
My world spun with the onslaught of blood that rushed through my body once my heart decided to beat again. I stumbled forward. “Connor.” My voice faltered, and I hated how weak I sounded.
“Aylin,” he whispered. “I'm sorry.”
“Shit! Where are you hurt?” I frantically ran my hands down his arms, moving to his face, chest, and lower. I cursed the dim lighting of the parking lot. When my fingers skimmed across his toned chest, they became warm and sticky with blood.
I pressed my hands over the wound.
He sucked in a breath and placed his hands over mine. “Gab—”
“I know. I saw.”
“How?” His voice was low and hoarse.
I ignored him. I didn't have time to explain about my imprint. I needed to save him. His light was fading.
Bryn would know what to do. I should've waited for her! But she wasn't here.
Think!
My imprint glowed brighter. Power swam through me like a drug. It sparked life into my heart and soul. Connor's essence called to me like a siren, low and sweet. I felt him falling deeper into the abyss. I needed to act.
Bryn practiced her magic by pulling it from one being to the next. Almost like a form of meditation. I closed my eyes and focused on healing energies. I melded them in a similar fashion to how the sword had been wielded in my mind. I felt the instinctual pull to release the energy and forced it toward Connor.
My hands glowed with the force of my magic. Connor's face paled against the darkness, and his vacant stare scared the hell out of me. I couldn't lose him.
Calling my magic, I chanted every spell I knew that increased strength and virility. He needed to live. He was my mate. Screw the imprint and its cruel games. He was mine whether he was imprinted or not.
“Connor, come back to me,” I shouted in between chants. “I need you.”
The black strands encompassing my half-moon faded. Darkness consumed by the light. I wasn't sure if that was good or bad, but when Connor opened his eyes and looked into mine, I didn't care. My magic was working. He was coming back to me.
“Aylin.” He ran a cool hand against the side of my face.
When he spoke my name, I couldn't help the tears that fell.
“Hon, don't cry for me.”
I wiped at the tears and cursed his blood smeared on my face. The bleeding from the wound stopped, but he was still weak and made no move to rise.
“Shh.” He moved his hand behind my neck and pulled my face close to his. “It's okay, I'm here.” He spoke as if he knew he was dying and we were the only two people in the world and this was our last moment together.
His lips brushed against mine. The touch comforting, I lost myself, letting him lead in the sweetest kiss. He poured his soul into that embrace and, helpless, I let him.
I lost track of how long we stayed fused together. Enjoying the comfort of each other. When his hold eased, I opened my eyes and looked into his smoky gray eyes. I saw his love for me, the desire pooling in waves.
I ran my hand across his face, moving his dirty blond hair from his eyes. He was a couple weeks late for a trim. “Don't ever do that to me again.”
I placed my hand against his chest. He grabbed it, linking our fingers. But when he brought my knuckles to his mouth, he stopped. Twisting my hand to view the imprint, he cursed.
“Aylin, what the fuck?”
Shit!
He dropped my hand and scooted backwards. Too weak to attempt standing.
I reached for him, but he backed away as if I were cursed. My heart shattered. Rejected first by the imprint and now by my mate. I doubted I could take much more.
I stood and waited for him to do the same. He struggled to his feet. I didn't attempt to help and risk another rejection.
“A simple thanks would suffice.” I turned to walk away.
He grabbed my shoulder and spun me back. The force surprised me. His strength must be returning. “Oh, no you don't.”
“Connor, let it be.”
“The fuck, I will. Aylin, you're imprinted.” He spat the word like poison from his mouth.
“No shit, Sherlock.” I glared.
“Who's the bastard?” he growled.
Who? How dare he question me like I didn't have a right to love. Like I couldn't have what Bryn and Liam had. Like I was nothing more than dirt on his cowboy boots.
“You're the bastard.”
Oooppsss. I didn't mean to let that slip.
Chapter Four
Connor
I stood there. Numb. Mouth open, unable to speak. One moment in time changed everything.
The effect of the sword caused the wound to heal slowly. Aylin's power helped, but a normal injury wouldn't take this long to heal. I was a little worried about the black tar that poisoned the sword and possibly me.
Aylin didn't seem to notice my state during her spurt of anger.
She stomped off and kicked her tires, cursing me, men in general, and fate. Three vital things circled in my mind from the past few minutes.
I need you.
That's what Aylin shouted when she thought I was dying. Those words were a symphony that rang in my ears and floated to my body. The beat rising higher, closer, softer, until it seeped into my heart, the rhythm syncing as one.
Imprint.
Prior to tonight, I never had this primal need to claim her. To mark her as my own. Yet tonight, I had seen red thinking of another man touching her. She was mine. When she stood over me, glowing from the magic that enveloped her, I swear her whole being called to me. Her soul wrapped around my own. Claiming me on an eternal level. Now, I just needed to claim her on a physical one.
You're the bastard.
I smiled. Yes, I am. Aylin was strong, capable of downing a man twice her size, but those words alone almost took me to my knees. I turned my wrist, looking for any indication
that I shared her bond, and frowned. Nope, nothing. Not even a slight glow.
Another vehicle swerved into the parking lot, engulfing us in light.
Aylin cursed again.
I leaned against my Hummer, holding my side, trying not to laugh. Oh, that mouth.
Liam opened the door to his SUV and walked around to help Bryn from the vehicle.
They approached us, hand in hand. I tried not to be jealous at their easy companionship. They fit together perfectly.
“Is everything okay?” Bryn asked, heading straight to Aylin.
“Okay? No, it's not.” Aylin circled around her truck, almost like she was looking for something else to kick after torturing her high-end mud tires.
But Bryn pulled her into an embrace, which seemed to have calmed her some. I lost track of their conversation.
Liam approached, his confident swagger screaming Alpha, and I lowered my head slightly. I was a big guy, but Liam was bigger and bulkier. Where I was lean and fit, he was all muscle.
“What's going on, Connor?” Liam cut to the chase while eyeing my bloodied outfit and torn shirt.
I looked at the scar from the fire blade and cursed.
“Well, which time?” I asked, hating the fact that I had been beaten twice tonight and saved by a hot chick. I ran a dirty hand through my tousled blond hair and sighed. God, I was exhausted, mentally and physically, but didn't want to explain without a drink in my hand.
“My friend, it looks like you need a drink.” Liam must have read my mind because he smiled and slapped me on the back. He pulled a key from his pocket. “C'mon, let's go inside for a cold one.”
“Oh, a drink!” An older woman with gray, frizzed hair approached the door. A translucent light highlighted her abundant frame. She clapped animatedly, sending an array of multi-color bracelets into a jangling fit.
Liam stiffened. I stopped. Nadia! What was her Highness doing here? A member of the Table of Seven, joining us for a drink right after the reappearance of Gabriel, what were the odds?
Nadia's towering hair wobbled as she approached the door. “Open sesame,” she chimed. The door obeyed. “Ha! I still have it, boys.”
Liam's low growl confirmed that he wasn't happy with her visit. He shoved the unused key back into his pocket.
Nadia had deceived Bryn for years, working as an Augur to guide Bryn to her destiny. Nadia had succeeded, but put Bryn in terrible danger in the process. Liam didn't forgive easily.
“Nadia!” Bryn rushed to Nadia, who stumbled with the impact of her embrace. She was obviously more forgiving.
“Child,” Nadia whispered, wiping a tear from her eye.
I shifted my feet, uncomfortable at the feminine exchange.
Needing a drink, I headed straight for the tap. “Do you want one?” I asked Liam, who seemed as uncomfortable as I did in the presence of crying females.
“I'll have whatever you're having.” Liam sat at the bar, nursing the drink I slid his way, never once taking his eyes off Bryn.
“Cassiel?” Bryn’s mother's name filtered through the air like a sunken prayer, hopeless and lost.
Her mother had been imprinted to Gabriel. I clenched my fists at his name, thankful he came after me tonight and not Aylin.
“She's healing, slowly, but surely. She's got mental and physical scars from being in captivity for so long, but I assure you, she will visit when the time is right.” Nadia joined Liam at the bar.
I drank half my drink in one gulp, then topped it off again. When Aylin and Bryn followed Nadia, I poured Aylin a shot of precious whiskey and slid it down the bar. She downed it and slid the empty glass back my way, never once meeting my gaze.
“I want something fruity!” Nadia's eyes widened, like that of a child on Christmas morning.
I eyed my options, smiled, and poured her the girliest drink I could find—a light beer. I placed the glass in front of her. “Here you go.”
“Hmph.” She wrinkled her nose and chanted a few words. A bright pink umbrella appeared in her drink. She sipped. “There, that's better.”
Bryn took a seat next to Liam and scooted closer to him. I handed her a cup of water.
“Thanks.” Her tone was harsh.
I cringed, not sure what I did to tick her off.
It wasn't unusual for women to hate me on occasion. I was a scoundrel on my better days and worse on others. For years, I had played women and tried to manipulate a soul bond, but I never could. Then Liam became imprinted and my efforts doubled. But my days of searching ended with Aylin, which was why Cat had been so pissed.
Liam raised an eyebrow and cued me to spill my guts on tonight's events, so I told them how Cat had enlisted Brad and his posse to beat me up.
Aylin, true to the redheaded persona, slammed her second shot glass on the bar. “So, the flavor of the day turned sour. What was she, your easy Tuesday or your slutty Thursday?” Her eyes roamed across my body, taking in my swelled eye, bruised face, and battered outfit. The light did little to hide what the darkness of the parking lot had. I was just shy of a train wreck and not healing nearly as fast as I should be.
“The bitch,” she muttered, pointing to my swollen eye. “You should probably put ice on that.”
I didn't have the heart to tell her, it wasn't my eye she should be concerned with. I rubbed my hand up the side of my shirt and felt welts forming around my stomach wound. The dull pain amplified and I forced my panic down. I would recover.
“Oh, darling, are you worried about me?” I asked casually and placed a hand over my chest in a light-hearted joke. When the sweetest flush crept up her neck, I was pleased.
Nadia's grin split her face, but she just sipped her umbrella drink and eavesdropped on our conversation as if she were a pack member and not part of the Table.
“But why didn't you go back to your date with Cat? Aylin left with me and the night was still young,” Bryn asked. She was too perceptive, asking the same thing Cat and Brad had wanted to know.
The answer was and would always be, Cat wasn't Aylin. Period.
“Umm...” How did I tell them that it was because Aylin had rocked me to the core? Just the briefest of touches, and she had consumed me from the inside out. I settled with, “I just wasn't feeling her anymore.”
Aylin whirled on me, fire in her eyes. “You're a bastard, you know? A one and done, thank you, Ma'am. Maybe I shouldn't go after Catherine for sending Brad after you. Maybe I should just kick your ass for being a womanizer.”
“Nothing happened between me and Cat.” My defensive tone shocked me. I was that guy once and wouldn't apologize for it, but I wasn't him anymore. I wanted to feel more. Be more. My soul craved a soulbond, a connection with Aylin. I needed her to know that I wasn't that man any longer.
The lights swirled around Aylin's wrist in an intricate dance. The anger boiling between us increased their movements, like strobe lights reacting to the beat of war drums. And I noticed a slight black tint to an otherwise golden glow.
“Well, that'd be a first.” Aylin spat, then sat next to Bryn.
“All right, ...” Liam held up his hands, “...children, we have more important issues to discuss. Like Gabriel.”
“Yes, Gabriel,” Nadia agreed. “Don't think for a second, he won't come back after any one of you. He is determined to kill all imprints. He failed to kill Bryn. He failed to kill Cassiel. Worst of all, since Cassiel remains in our realm as a member of the Table, he doesn't have the power of their imprint. He needs it and will stop at nothing to get it.”
“You think he'll try to capture us like he did Cassiel?” I asked. “Use our blood as a power source?”
When Bryn met my gaze, regret flashed in her eyes. But she didn't speak. I was flabbergasted with how such an evil bastard could create such a kind person. Bryn was Gabriel's polar opposite.
“What? He just randomly showed up and decided he wants your blood, Connor?” Aylin spoke to me, but eyed Nadia as if she held all the answers. “To capture you? You don't possess
power.”
I didn't trust an Augur, especially one who showed up at such a convenient time.
“No, it wasn't random. I was targeted.” I recalled Gabriel's words about not being imprinted yet. That meant I would be one day, and he knew it. Hell, I knew it.
“Then why was he after you when I'm the one imprinted?” she asked.
I cleared my throat. “Because for some reason he thinks that killing me will prevent another soulbond.”
“See?” Bryn slapped Aylin's shoulder. “I told you he was your soulbonded mate.”
I choked on my beer, nearly spilling the entire contents over the bar.
“Ha! There you have it, child.” Nadia winked. “My work is done! Aylin, you know what you have to do.”
Aylin turned crimson.
Nadia finished her beer and, with a snap of her fingers, vanished.
My mouth dropped. What an odd little creature.
Aylin would have to complete the bond, and I prayed like hell she agreed with Bryn that I was her mate. I needed it to be me.
But Aylin's shoulders slumped. Earlier, when she declared I was her mate, she had been confident. But now? She didn't seem to believe it. Did she? She reached for her shot glass, hesitated, then brought it to her taut lips.
“I never doubt you, Bryn.” After Aylin downed even more alcohol, her brief smile wavered. “But I don't have an ounce of faith in that crazy old bat.”
She shook her glass, indicating another refill, but I slid a bottle of water down the bar, instead of more whiskey.
Liam sipped his beer and looked at my wrist, as if to confirm I was definitely not imprinted. “So, if Gabriel thinks you're a link to another soulbond, you just became a target.”
“We don't even know who she is bonded to.” I looked over at Aylin, but she refused to meet my eyes. My heart dropped at the thought that I might not be her mate. “Right, Aylin?”
“Hmm... sure.” Aylin tore the label off the water bottle.
Nope, we aren't playing this game.
I moved from behind the bar and walked to her. I slowly turned the bar stool so she sat facing me. I shifted my feet slightly apart, placed my hand under her chin, and tilted her head. Her forest green eyes shone with unshed tears. I bent my knees until my eyes were level with hers and begged her to see the honesty within me. I wanted to be hers. “Tell me what you know about this bond, love.”
The Half Moon: Soulbond Series Book 2 Page 3
