Mason didn’t deserve happiness. He deserved to endure the torment he’d callously inflicted on me.
I prayed desperately, as each drop of blood left my body, that on the way out, I could grab Darcy and drag her to Hell with me.
My surroundings grew blurry, but it didn’t stop me from hearing the incessant growls coming from Mason. Each sound told the same story—of agony, despair, and the inner struggle to govern his wolf. Flashes of images danced before my vision of Vivien and Elynor joining hands as they began chanting and of candles flickering, casting shadows against the walls of the room. They’d begun the spell that would send me packing and there was nothing I could do to stop them.
Tears spilled over my cheeks. Not because I was remorseful, but because I was never good enough. No one would’ve fought this hard to save me. I’d thought the Master might have, after seeing the loyalty I’d given him.
There was nobody to save me. Darkness waited.
In the midst of everything, something lurked just out of reach. The presence was immense and powerful, pushing against my body as it tried to break in.
“Someone else is here!” Elynor cried out, whipping around and breaking contact with Vivien.
“Don’t let go,” Vivien countered as the magic they’d been creating faltered. “We can’t stop.”
Mason let out a howl that reverberated off the walls. How he managed to remain human seemed impossible; yet there he stood, drenched in sweat as his body convulsed against the overpowering need to change. One of his hands partially shifted, revealing fur and claws, but he quickly reined his wolf back. I’d never seen such mastery before.
Pain lanced through me, causing me to choke against the cord in my mouth. A fire unlike anything I’d experienced sizzled inside my mind as the new presence began ripping me out from the foundation I’d planted myself in. There was a new spirit within Darcy’s body fighting for supremacy.
The Master.
He was here and the vileness of his power chilled me to the core.
“Darcy needs to die now, brother! Mason, hold on tightly to your bond with her. Whatever you do, don’t let go!” Elynor’s hair rose in the air as she clenched hands with Vivien again, heightening the energy crackling like electricity in the air. Their melodic voices set the atmosphere ablaze with heavy enchantment.
“I’ve drained all I can. She’s moments from death,” Devlin called out, dropping my wrist to the ground.
“Find the vessel and bring it to me,” Elynor ordered, pausing long enough to place it between her and Vivien. “Mason, be ready.”
This was it. These were my final moments of consciousness before oblivion. All my scheming, all my deals, and this was how it was going to end. I was rapidly losing my grip within Darcy’s body. The only victory was that Darcy still hadn’t surfaced and the Master was struggling, as well. A few more moments and no one would win.
Darcy’s body would die.
And Mason would completely lose it as grief decimated his soul.
At least that was something.
My death wouldn’t be in vain.
“The second spirit is leaving,” Elynor announced. Sure enough, I could feel him pulling away. I tried latching onto him, hoping that together we might return, but his presence was like slick oil, slippery to touch.
“Then all we have left to deal with is Amber’s,” Vivien countered. “Ready, everyone.”
I felt it the very moment the spell changed. They were drawing me toward the vessel they held, wanting to trap me inside. That terrified me more than the idea of simply never existing. At least I would be free and not confined to some urn where they would have absolute power.
The harder I resisted, the stronger they tugged at my weakening spirit. The blood Devlin had taken from Darcy’s body had done its job and I felt her heart falter. There was no other way, no other option, but to resign to my fate. Leaving the slight warmth of Darcy, I came to rest within the cold, hard, binding vessel.
Sealed. Cut off. Prisoner.
There was no one to hear my frustrated shrieks of defeat.
Nobody to hear my bitter cries of failure.
The end had come.
It was only a matter of time before my ultimate fate would reveal itself.
****
Darcy
In the end, it was Mason’s love and unswerving faith that brought me home. It was his stubborn refusal to give up and his tight hold on our mating bond that acted as a beacon of light. Just when I thought I’d slipped away, it was him who guided my spirit back into my body and kept me there.
He was my miracle, my savior.
I would live because of him. As my spirit secured itself once again within my body, he didn’t let go, cradling me gently. I didn’t know how he did it, but he saved me from the darkness and restored me.
As my eyelids fluttered open, it wasn’t Devlin that I looked for, even though it was in his arms I lay. Somewhere through the process, the shackles had been removed, and I was feeding from his wrists. Strength returning to my limbs with each life-giving mouthful of blood I swallowed.
But that wasn’t what was important. As grateful as I was for everyone else in the room, it was Mason I needed the most.
Him.
The man who waited patiently, with his heart shining through his eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks.
“Mason,” I croaked, my voice tender and sore.
“Sweetheart.” In two long strides, he was across the room, his arms extended as Devlin transferred me from his lap to my husband’s. I’d had all the blood I needed and any danger had passed. Even though my body was still weak, it would heal and grow strong, again. My spirit was back in its rightful place and there were no more hitchhikers possessing me.
Elynor and Vivien had ensured that, by casting a safeguarding spell over me.
Thoughts swirled around inside my head as I struggled to put it all into coherent words. So much had happened– so many insights into what Amber, Helena, and the Master had planned. There were things the Council needed to know about—we were all in danger.
It was the Master who’d tried to occupy my body in those last moments. He’d taken advantage of the confusion and tried to slip in, only to discover he hadn’t quite been ready. With the spell now preventing that, he’d be desperate for another chance to rob me of my strength.
Desperation made men reckless.
“Mason,” I whispered again, needing him to listen to me.
“Sssh, rest. You’re okay. You’re safe.” He brushed his lips over mine and I almost lost myself in his tender kiss.
“But we’re not. We’re not safe.” I had to make him listen.
“We can talk more, I promise. Right now, I just want to hold you and take you home.”
I turned to Devlin, hoping to talk with him, but he was standing in the corner with his sister. He wore the pained expression of a person who knew he needed to say goodbye. It was so unfair for him to finally see Elynor, and not be able to keep her with him.
He never once stopped touching her, whether to brush the back of his finger over her cheek, hold her hand, or pull his sister into his embrace. It was brutally obvious he missed her, and vice versa. Speaking in hushed tones, Elynor leaned forward and whispered something in his ear before softly kissing his cheek.
Whatever she said, the words shocked him as even more tears fell. My heart ached for them both, causing me to finally turn away, unable to keep watching without sobbing myself.
That was when my gaze fell on the urn containing Amber’s spirit. Anger erupted, fury over what she had put me through. She’d thought I was gone, that I couldn’t hear her selfish plotting, but I had. I knew that she’d never rest until she had what she wanted. Even now, there was no doubt in my mind that Amber was trying to figure out a way to leave the urn and place herself back into our lives.
We’d never be free from her. Not unless something final was done.
“Help me up, Mason,” I asked, my own strength not
completely returned. It wouldn’t take long, though, with my werewolf and vampiric natures.
Without asking why, Mason supported me as I made sure I had my balance. My head spun and for a brief second my vision blackened, but as quickly as it had manifested, my sight returned. Hobbling over to the urn, I didn’t ask permission. I didn’t wait for someone to speak or caution me against it.
Lifting the vessel up over my head, I slammed it down hard onto the ground. Shards of magically infused clay shattered, destroying the urn and what it contained. I knew exactly what the purpose of the container was. I’d heard Vivien talk with her coven members about it.
Spirits could be trapped within its confinement and if destroyed, the soul inside would suffer the same fate. Just like the pieces of clay fractured, Amber’s spirit was now in pieces, never to be whole.
It wasn’t something I’d have ever wished upon her, but my hope was she would still manage to find some kind of peace—even if it was the tiniest part of her.
The room was quiet as everyone stared at me, shocked over what I’d done. Deep down I knew they understood, and even if they didn’t, after everything I’d endured, I’d just ensured we’d never have to deal with her again.
I needed that guarantee in order to move on. The last thing I wanted was to constantly watch over my shoulder, waiting for her to reappear.
“Darcy . . .” Mason spoke, a sad kindness lining his face.
“I’m ready to go home,” I answered, before dropping to the floor, my head pounding as the room began swimming. My wolf was now free and she reacted the only way she knew how.
The last thing I saw as I shifted was Mason racing toward me. My mouth moved, weakly trying to convince him he didn’t have to worry anymore, but it was too late.
As fur erupted over my skin and my human form gave way to that of my wolf, everything went still. It was then that I finally felt that elusive warmness I’d craved.
Peace.
Chapter Nine
Mason
The room was hushed as I closed the door, locking the handle to ensure we would have some privacy. For a second, I wondered if Darcy had left for something, maybe blood, but stilling my senses, I could feel her. Our connection had returned shortly after Vivien’s spell gave control back to my wife. If it hadn’t been for the overwhelming exhaustion that threatened to crumble everyone involved, I would’ve rejoiced in having that bond between us blazed.
I’d missed her—missed not having those precious glimpses inside her mind. It was amazing how often I’d come to rely on it and found comfort in the mental link, until it was gone. She’d become an extension of who I was and I’d feared we’d lost it, forever.
Slowly releasing the handle, I turned around and found her sitting in the middle of our large bed, fully dressed, her soulful eyes studying me. She was searching for something, some kind of confirmation that we were okay, while wrapping her arms around her knees as if holding herself together.
I’d seen her look this way before—the night after Jasmine had died. It had broken my heart then, the need to never see her cry. So much had happened since that tragic day, more events that had tried and tested both of us. Yet, here she was again, tears rolling down her cheeks as she waited for me to speak.
Just one word left my lips. “Sweetheart.” It spoke volumes as all the love I possessed cradled itself in the endearment.
It softened the pain that etched around her eyes, causing an even softer smile to curl her mouth. “Even still?”
“Always,” I answered.
“And forever.” It was something we liked to say and it felt good knowing that the person saying it was truly my wife.
Tugging my shirt out from my jeans, I approached her and sat at the end of the bed. “You doing okay? Do you need anything to eat or drink?”
Her gentle laugh faintly filled the air. “I’m fine.” Darcy scooted across, making room for me beside her.
“Are you sure?” Now that she was finally here, all my plans for seduction had flown out the window. The fire that had been building in the pit of my stomach since leaving Vivien’s, one I knew came from my need to be as close as possible to her, was temporarily quenched. Seeing how tired Darcy appeared now, reminded me how fragile my wife was.
“Stop it,” she chided, showing me she’d caught that last thought as she placed her hand over mine. “I’m fine, I promise. All I need is a good night’s sleep.”
“Can’t be mad at a guy for worrying.” My response felt weak. It didn’t seem enough. It went against everything inside me—my desire to wipe away everything that she’d suffered. I wanted to see that twinkle in her eye. I needed to know that Amber hadn’t destroyed the part of my wife that believed the world was a good place.
Even though I knew I couldn’t possibly protect her from everything, it still galled me that I’d failed.
“You didn’t,” she whispered. Letting go of her knees, Darcy slowly stretched out her legs, moving so that as I lay back, she nestled into me.
The tight coil that had buried itself in my chest slackened. My arms instantly drew her in, encircling her.
Just like that, my world fell back into the proper orbit.
“It sure does feel like it,” I admitted, my fingers already trailing back and forth over her side.
“It feels like a lot of things right now, but that’s not one of them. Things happen, Mason. Bad thing. Horrific, even.”
All I could do was nod in agreement. “But I never wanted this for you. Any of it.”
“I know. This isn’t about you or me, though. Sometimes we get caught in the crossfire of other people’s choices. It’s not a reflection of who we are, but of who they are. In this case, Amber.” With her hand lightly resting over my chest, I hoped she could feel just how much my heart beat for her.
“You’re a lot more level-headed about this than I expected.” And I was. I wasn’t sure what I’d find when I entered the bedroom earlier, but it wasn’t this.
At first she didn’t reply, shrugging instead. Lying there quietly, her thumb matched the slow, deliberate patterns my hands traced over her hip. I wanted to touch her skin, but that would come later. I had a feeling Darcy was about to dazzle me with her strength—something that never failed to amaze me.
Finally she spoke. “I guess I’m surprising myself, as well. I thought I’d be angry, but that kind of slipped away after I destroyed the urn. I know my head’s a mess right now, but there’s also bursts of clarity.”
“Clarity?”
“Yeah. It’s hard to explain, but it’s as if when I became your mate, our mating bond granted me the courage to face the challenges that would come with marrying an Alpha. I hadn’t realized it, until just now, while I was waiting for you. It’s easy to focus on the bad . . . on all the danger that seems to find us. No one would fault me for complaining. We’ve been married for such a short period of time and it feels like we haven’t had a real chance to breathe. But even before the wedding, there was something that threatened to tear us apart. While you’re my Prince Charming, Mason, this hasn’t exactly been a happily-ever-after.”
“And we all know how much you love your romance books,” I teased; interested to see where the conversation was going. Her voice had taken on a serious tone, one that conveyed her thoughtfulness.
My joke made her laugh. “I do. I’m sure I’m not the only one who fantasizes about how perfect life will be once a girl finds her true love, but I’m also a realist. That’s where my moment of clarity is rooted.” Pausing long enough to move and readjust herself, she rested on her elbow, staring into my eyes. She’d never looked so certain. So beautiful. “I married an Alpha. I married you, the man that turns my insides upside down with a mere look. The minute I saw you at my door, I knew deep in my heart there would never be anyone else. I’ve seen what life as a mate to an Alpha can do—the challenges, politics, and drama that naturally follows. But still, I chose you. If I wanted a life less complicated, I would’ve settled for someo
ne else. If I weren’t prepared to face the unknown, I would’ve politely declined your invitation for a second date. I knew what my future would be like and I still said yes.”
It was as if she’d reached into my very soul and found that insecurity I’d always tried to ignore. It was the reason why I felt overly protective and why, even now, I beat myself up for failing to keep her safe. A part of me had always felt selfish for claiming Darcy as my own, knowing that who I was and my place within the Supernatural community would, no doubt, make her a target for those striking against me. There was always someone wanting to overthrow those in power—I’d seen it with my father. It was the nature of the beast to balance between maintaining a peaceful existence and a thirst for dominance.
“Would you say yes if you’d known about Amber?” I asked, brushing my finger across her cheekbone and down her jaw.
There was no hesitation. “Don’t get me wrong. I never want to go through that again, but I would say yes to anything, if it meant you were mine. Perfection is overrated, Mason. It’s predictable and I have a feeling I would drown in its daily boredom. I love you and our life. I love knowing that even if the worst happened, I wouldn’t be alone. While our life isn’t perfect, you are.”
“And you got all this from a burst of clarity?”
She leaned in and feathered a light kiss over my mouth. “Yes; and while the rest of my head is noisy with uncertainty, I’m going to hold on tightly to this.” This time the kiss she placed on my lips was firmer. “I’m going to hold on tightly to us.”
“I love you, sweetheart,” I choked out as the lump in my throat made it almost impossible to swallow. She’d ripped away the fear I’d refused to acknowledge and shone a bright light into the shadows. I didn’t need our connection to know she meant every single word. It simply was, and my heart confirmed it.
Looking into her eyes and seeing her return the depth of my own emotions, Darcy gently reminded me why I loved her, why I’d fought hard to make her my wife. There would never be anyone who could draw out the best in me. She was everything that was good in my life and the reason why I could wake up each morning to brave the world.
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