Kings of the Fire Box Set

by Lily Cahill

  After a moment’s hesitation, he decided to let her sleep. Another few minutes were unlikely to make a difference either way, and this would give him a few minutes to collect his thoughts and make them something to eat. They’d just had a pretty serious workout, after all.

  He hopped in and out of the shower, and then was in the kitchen, putting together some sandwiches when he heard the soft sound of her feet on the floor.

  He turned to find Marta leaning against the doorway, wearing her discarded shirt and jeans. He was a little disappointed that she’d felt the need to redress—he wasn’t sure there was a point in her wearing clothes ever, but he may have been a little biased.

  She looked—tentative, unsure. Her lower lip was caught between her teeth, and she worried it as her eyes darted to him, then away.

  He held out a sandwich. “Turkey?”

  Marta smiled at him, a small thing, and held out her hand. “That sounds nice, thanks.”

  He handed her the sandwich, and she nibbled on it, but her brow was still furrowed.

  “Something wrong?” he asked. He hoped it wasn’t related to what they’d done together—that had been unlike any other experience of his whole life. She was his, through the designs of fate. He could feel it in his bones.

  Sighing, Marta nodded. “Can you feel it? There’s something strange happening, magic-wise.”

  A hard knot formed in Arryn’s chest. “I thought maybe I was imagining it.”

  “No. I’m—I’m not sure what’s going on, honestly. I know the protection spells are still there, and I know they’re still working, but ….” She shifted her snack to one hand and pressed the other against the wall, closing her eyes in concentration. “It’s like … I don’t know if I know the words in English. English, at a time like this.”

  He couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. “Just try.”

  “It’s like a computer program, almost. And I put up some kind of protection, but now it is … wrong. It is still there, but it’s different. Like it has been changed, somehow.”

  Arryn frowned. “It’s been corrupted?”

  Marta’s eyes flew open. “Yes, that is the word exactly! Corrupted. Now it does not feel like we are being protected—it feels like what was keeping us safe is now keeping us here. Like we are prisoners.”

  The words didn’t totally make sense. He wished he’d paid more attention to his own brand of magic; maybe then all of this would be more intuitive.

  “So it’s like this witch, Natasha—she’s changed the intent of your spell so that it’s not just keeping her out, but keeping us in?”

  “Yes! I built a tall fence, but this witch, she made it a prison.” Marta sighed. “I’m not sure how to take it down. This isn’t my specialty, in magic. I am a medi-witch, a nurse. I know the basics, but that’s all.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short. You’ve done so much already.”

  She nodded glumly, but she didn’t seem to believe him. He looked at his sandwich, but suddenly, he no longer had an appetite. From the way that Marta was picking at her bread, she felt the same.

  He abandoned his food, and then crossed the room, taking her sandwich from her and discarding it on the counter. He picked up her hands in his and held them tightly, staring down into her eyes.

  “We can figure this out,” he said. “I have plenty of supplies here. I wasn’t planning to go back to town for a while, so we’re not in any danger of running out of anything. We just need to reverse whatever it is that she did, and we will.”

  Marta looked up at him, her eyes boring into his. “How can you be sure?”

  “I’m just sure. There’s no doubt in my mind that we will figure this out.”

  And there wasn’t. He knew that between them pair of them, they would figure out a way to break free. There wasn’t another option.

  Arryn fiddled with his cell phone, shutting it off and then turning it back on again. It said it had service, but nothing was getting through. It had been a long shot, anyway, but he’d hoped that he might be able to sneak this past the witch’s defenses.

  Her surprise arrival at Felicity and Damien’s wedding had thrown them all for a loop. The Dragomirs had done the magical world few favors toward the end of their regime, but the Valdez family had not fixed the problems, only swept them under the rug. Unrest was still the word of the day. People’s frustration was understandable; Arryn didn’t blame them.

  But—murder? He couldn’t wrap his head around it. What good did it do to kill anyone in the Dragomir or Valdez lines now that they were both more figureheads than anything else? It wouldn’t speed democracy because they technically had it, it just wasn’t working.

  This witch, Natasha—his brothers had been referring to her as “evil,” but it wasn’t as simple as all that. And what of the other witch, who had periodically shown up throughout the past few weeks to steer him and his brothers in new directions? Arryn had only seen her once, personally. The day that Damien and Felicity had needed the potion to save Joy. That seemed like forever ago, rather than just a few months.

  Everyone called her Glinda now because they still didn’t know her name. Arryn wanted to believe what she said, that she was there to protect them, but—he didn’t fully trust her, and he couldn’t put his finger exactly on why. It was just a bit too convenient, her showing up whenever they needed her. He wanted to believe she had good intentions, but he’d spent his whole life running and hiding, afraid of the consequences of being himself. It made trusting difficult.

  Try as he might, though, he couldn’t seem to find an easy way out of the mess the magical world was in. And as far as he was concerned, it wasn’t his duty to fix it. He didn’t even want to be a dragon, anyway.

  “Any signal?” Marta’s voice cut through his thoughts, bringing him back to the present.

  He shook his head. “No. You?”

  “None. I think that’s probably a spell, as well.” Marta sighed and went to pick up her wand from where she’d discarded it near the front door. She twirled it in her fingers. “I can try to take down the walls she’s built up around us. Maybe she missed something, and there is a gap in her magic.”

  She said it in a way that implied she didn’t believe it was really possible. Arryn felt the dragon inside of him growl at the sight; knowing that she was sad and scared made him want to protect her. It was definitely his shifter instincts.

  There wasn’t much he could do to combat magic spells, however, and his inability to act burned hot in his gut. The urge to shift simmered under his skin. She glanced at him quickly, and then away, as if she could sense his tumultuous emotions.

  “I think that’s our best plan,” he told her, hoping he sounded normal and not frustrated. He wasn’t frustrated with Marta—she was doing brilliantly, thinking on her feet and making the best of everything. He, however, was not able to contribute, and it made him see red.

  It was as if when his dragon grew stronger, his rationality lessened. Suddenly, he didn’t feel so charitable toward the witch who had done this to them—his ancestors had done terrible things, but he and his brothers were not guilty of their crimes. They could only work to make the magical work better for all Others, and it was hard to do that when trapped inside of a cabin.

  And what about the rest of his brothers, and their mates? Were they all okay, or were they imprisoned, as well?

  Marta had her palm pressed against the door and that same look of concentration on her face. Her wand hand worked in the air, tracing out patterns that looked random to his eye, though he guessed they meant something to her.

  She looked … scared. The thought made his blood burn.

  She was his to protect. As soon as they were out of this cabin, he was going to find that witch, and he was going to end this, once and for all.

  Chapter Seven

  Marta

  WHOEVER THIS WITCH WAS, SHE was obviously very talented. When Marta had cast the protection spell on the cabin, she’d built high, magical walls around he
rself and Arryn. The witch had been prepared for this, however. She had taken the spell and twisted it to suit her own needs. It was if she’d thrown a net over the tops of the walls, trapping them inside so that there was no way out.

  Marta cast her magic through her wand and felt it travel up to the invisible netting over their heads. She tugged at a few strings of the spell, testing for weak spots, but there were none. It seemed that their enemy had learned from the spell from the wedding and prepared for just this eventuality. Every inch of the magic was expertly cast, weaving in with her own in a tight bond.

  Marta couldn’t undo it. Even if she undid her own protection spells to try and collapse the tainted spell, the net of the witch’s spell would simply fall down and catch them both. Even compromising the structural integrity of her spell in the smallest way could mean disaster. All she had to do was pull on the wrong thread.

  For the first time, Marta wished she’d never gone into medicine.

  She blinked opened her eyes and threw her wand to the floor in frustration. It bounced before settling on the wooden floor below her.

  “Stupid wand,” she said, glaring at it. It was much easier to blame her equipment than her own lack of knowledge.

  Arryn was counting on her. She could feel his anger and frustration bubbling up behind her, and although she could see it funneled toward himself, she couldn’t understand why. This wasn’t his fault, and he’d done nothing wrong.

  Beneath all of his bluster was a very real nugget of worry—not just for the two of them, but for the rest of his family. Sure, they were trapped there, but that wasn’t the worst of what could be happening. Who knew what was going on with the other Dragomir boys, with Felicity, with Joy. Even Ramona, as mortal as she was, was definitely in danger. Marta’s heart clenched at the thought. Maybe she wasn’t Joy’s family, but after living with her for several months, she very much cared. She thought of the girl as a sister.

  It was part of the reason she’d been so determined to move on. That way, she didn’t lose someone she cared about so much.

  “I don’t think your wand is trying to sabotage you,” Arryn said, appearing behind her. He stooped down and picked up her wand and handed it to her, smiling gently. It amazed her that this huge man who could shift into a freaking dragon could also be so delicate with her. She could feel his emotions, a maelstrom of anger and determination and protective instincts, and yet he still found a way to be gentle, to be kind.

  She smiled at him, trying not to look as tired as she felt. “I know. I’m just not sure what else to try, and I’m worried about Joy.”

  Arryn wrapped his arms around her, and she pressed herself into his body, reveling in the warmth there. It felt so good to be close to him. He gave her strength.

  “You and Joy became really close, didn’t you?” he asked. “She raves about you all the time. Every time I’ve seen her the past few weeks, she’s been plotting ways to get you to stay.”

  Marta blinked in surprise. Joy had a great many wonderful qualities, but she could be a little bit flighty. Marta hadn’t expected that level of loyalty from her, and she wasn’t sure if learning of it made the thought of leaving hurt more or less.

  “She couldn’t have changed my mind,” Marta said, choosing her words carefully. It was hard to think of the right thing to say. She’d been speaking English for so long, she didn’t usually have to think too hard to talk in it, but the stress of the past few hours made everything harder.

  Arryn pulled away. There was a frown tugging at his mouth. “Why not? Are you not happy here?”

  Marta was suddenly unbearably tired. She was going to have to tell him. She grasped Arryn’s hand in her own and led him toward the couch in the sparsely decorated living room. There was only the sofa, tables framing either side.

  Seeing it like this, just short of bare, made her want to know what it would look like when it was finished, when it was exactly the way Arryn wanted it. She longed to see that. She could still feel her certainty in him beating away in her chest in time with her heart. The instincts that had protected her for years urged her onward, but she knew now that it was not so simple. She could not leave Arryn behind.

  She knew that whatever was happening was special, rare. She’d seen the other Dragomirs with their mates, and she thought that maybe…

  But trusting was hard, and changing the way she’d been living her entire adult life was even harder.

  “My mother and father met when they were very young. He was American, a traveler, and they fell in love. She always said that from him she learned English, and from her he learned to be a better man. Or so she thought. He left us when I was only a year old, and we never heard from him again.”

  A dark shadow crossed Arryn’s face. “That’s terrible.”

  “That’s life, sometimes.” Marta shrugged. She couldn’t remember her father, and she’d never looked for him when she’d moved. He was just a faceless character from her past, someone her mother mentioned only on occasion. She couldn’t bear to tell Arryn that her mother had sensed her father’s shifting love and loyalty, and that she had known months before he left that he would abandon his family. “For many years, it was only my mother and me. She was an empath, like me, but was kinder than I am. She never felt fatigued by others’ emotions. They made her strong. I always envied her for that. When she fell ill, I spent all my time taking care of her, and when she passed away, I realized that I had relied on her for everything I could. I had counted on her, and she had left.”

  “That wasn’t her fault.”

  “I know, but that didn’t make it any easier to live through.”

  Arryn’s hand was big and warm around hers, and he wove their fingers together. “Well, I understand a thing or two about that.”

  That was true enough, she was sure.

  “I decided I must be like her. I tried to take over her position at the hospital where she worked—not as a nurse, I didn’t have the credentials, but as a volunteer. It felt like I was constantly being torn apart by all these conflicting emotions. I hung on because it was hers, and it took me so long to realize I was hurting myself, and that I couldn’t help others at my own expense. I left the Ukraine and came to the United States on a student visa. I went to school for nursing and earned my citizenship.”

  “And you’re a private nurse because you don’t like hospitals?”

  “Yes, I thought that was the answer, but it has its own problems.” She smiled wanly. “I get so attached—I feel as though I know people as I know myself, but sometimes it is hard for me to tell when their emotions have overshadowed my own. I get lost, and it’s hard to know what is best for me.”

  He frowned. “What if you weren’t a nurse?”

  “My empathic abilities aren’t tied to nursing, they just help me with it.”

  “So you never stay too long in one place because ….”

  “Because maybe I am happy, but also, maybe I am just caught up in something that I only love through someone else’s eyes. I need time and space to know what’s best for me.”

  “Marta…” Arryn’s voice was a low, husky growl in her ear. “That isn’t a life.”

  “It is better than making the same mistake again and again. But then I came here, and I fell into this life—Joy treats me like a sister, and you ….” Marta dared to look up and meet Arryn’s eyes. He was staring at her with such intensity, she felt the thrill of it deep in her bones. “What I feel with you, I think it comes entirely from me.”

  “You can trust me,” he told her. His hands reached up to cup her face, and he held her gently, even as his tone was deadly serious. “I will never hurt you. I will protect you from anything you fear, and you will never have to know that kind of pain again.”

  Tears sprang to Marta’s eyes, and no amount of blinking made them go away. One slipped from the corner of her eye and began to trace the curve of her cheek. Arryn wiped it away with his thumb.

  “How can you promise that?” she whispered. “
We are stuck, now. I cannot get through this witch’s magic, and if I try to tweak my own, I will bring down all our protection.”

  A look settled over Arryn, and it was one she’d never seen before—his dark blue eyes were serious, and his mouth was set in a firm line.

  “What would happen if we tried to leave?”

  She frowned. “We can’t leave, that’s the problem.”

  “No, I mean—say we tweak your spellwork. If we do that, how long are we without protection? How long would it take to put the shield back up?”

  Marta closed her eyes and concentrated. What he was talking about was crazy—whoever this witch was, she obviously knew they wouldn’t attempt it because the second they did any major damage to the protection spell, she’d be waiting.

  “Too long to resurrect the whole spell. A minute or two. If she is outside waiting for us, that will give her plenty of time, and she is stronger than me.” Marta gave a wobbly smile. “I am a healer, not a fighter.”

  Arryn grabbed her hand and absently brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss there. She felt it tingle all the way up her arm.

  “That’s what I like most about you,” he told her. “But what about single protection spells, just around you and me?”

  That was … an interesting idea. But not nearly as practical as Arryn seemed to think. He really had never looked into magical culture, despite having been born with magic in his blood. She could hardly believe that, but it was obviously true.

  “I only know one, and it fades quickly. I would not have the strength to keep two of them up and repair the protection spell.”

  “What about one?”

  Marta paused. What was he talking about? “Arryn, there are two of us.”

  “Yes, and there’s only one of us I’m truly worried about.”

  Anger ripped through her, hot and thick and purely her own. She snatched her hand away from Arryn’s grasp. “You say a bunch of pretty words about keeping me safe, but now, here—you talk about doing something wild and dangerous, as if your life doesn’t matter at all.”