3013: SPELLBOUND: A 3013 Novella (3013: The Series)

by Kali Argent

Their coupling wasn’t slow and tender. It was hard and fast, born of primitive instincts and bordering on feral. Every jarring plunge pushed her higher, drove her closer to the edge. Still, she begged for more, desperate for everything he could give her.

  A muscled arm slid beneath her, lifting her hips higher to change the angle, and light exploded behind her closed eyelids on his next inward thrust. Her pulse raced. Her breaths turned ragged. Her body coiled tight, preparing for an orgasm that hovered just out of her reach.

  “Let go,” Xi ordered on a harsh growl. “Let go, fayah. Come for me.”

  His next powerful thrust pushed her up the sandy bank and hit that perfect spot inside her that shattered her into a million, sparkling pieces. Digging her fingers into his shoulders, she tossed her head back and screamed his name to the morning sky as she was rolled beneath a wave of blinding pleasure.

  The cords in Xi’s neck strained, his muscles tensed, and he released a primal roar as he followed her over the precipice, filling her depths with his seed.

  She thought he’d pull away immediately. She expected him to roll onto his back, or maybe even jump to his feet. He did neither of those things.

  Bracing himself on one arm, he continued to hold her close, murmuring words she didn’t understand as he nuzzled against the side of her neck.

  “My fayah,” he whispered. “I am never letting you go.” He emphasized his words by tightening his arm around her. “Never.”

  She believed him. How could she not when he spoke so reverently? She’d meant it when she said she trusted him, but it was time to start trusting herself. It was time to let go of her doubts and worries and embrace the beautiful gift she’d been given.

  “You won’t ever have to,” she promised. “I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Leaning against the frame of the open doorway, Xi watched his mate flitter around her bedroom.

  Another week had come and gone, and since that day by the lake, Cynda had spent every night in his bed—right where she belonged. Still, she’d had so much taken from her during her short life, he couldn’t bear to take anything else. He wanted her to have a space all her own, a sanctuary she could retreat to when she needed a respite.

  It had taken a lot of convincing, but he knew how to be persuasive. Eventually, she had agreed to keep her bedroom in the mansion, even if she only used it to work on the dress she’d been designing.

  Which seemed to be more and more often lately.

  It was a beautiful garment, and every time he saw it, he was impressed by her talent all over again. Clear jewels sparkled across the fitted bodice like thousands of tiny stars, and the barest hints of purple and gold peeked through the silver skirt when the light hit it just right. It really was a gorgeous piece of artistry, but he didn’t understand why she wouldn’t let him just buy her a new dress for the Freedom Day Gala.

  At the very least, he wished she’d allow him to purchase machines and gadgets to make the task easier. Whenever he would mention it, though, Cynda just smiled, kissed his cheek, and insisted that she enjoyed the process of creating with her own hands.

  Right on cue, she cursed under her breath and brought the pad of her thumb to her lips. “Ow, ow, ow.”

  Sighing, Xi pushed away from the doorjamb and strode across the room. “Let me see it.”

  Cynda screamed as she whipped around to face him. Once she realized who had spoken, she settled somewhat, but she kept a hand pressed over her heart. “Don’t do that!”

  “Sorry,” he said around a chuckle. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” Taking her hand, he brought it to his lips and kissed the injured digit. “Cynda…”

  “It’s fine.” Gently, she pulled her hand from his grip. “I just pricked it on one of the pins, but it’s not a big deal. See?” She held her thumb up again. “It’s not even bleeding anymore.”

  The female was going to be the death of him.

  “What’s so important about this dress anyway?”

  “It was my grandmother’s.”

  She said this as if it explained everything. For Xi, it clarified nothing. “So?”

  “This dress belonged to my father, Charles’, mother. She wore it when she married my grandfather.”

  He understood the words she said, but their meaning was still unclear. “Married? You mean, bonded?”

  She shook her head. “No, not like that. They got married in a big, fancy wedding with all their friends and family. There was dancing, and flowers, and a giant cake at least as tall as I am.” As she spoke, her eyes lit up with a kind of wonder he’d never seen before. “He wore a very handsome suit, and she wore this dress. Well, I’ve made some modifications to it, but you get the idea.”

  He really didn’t. “I’m pleased that you’re so happy, but I don’t understand a word you’re saying.”

  Cynda laughed and bounced forward to kiss the side of his neck. “Years and years ago, men and women met, fell in love, then one of them—usually the male—would ask the other one to marry them. Then, they’d come together to celebrate their love in front of friends and family.”

  “Okay.” It still sounded like a bonding ceremony to him.

  “The women wore these beautiful, magnificent dresses. Sometimes, the dresses were vibrant and colorful. Sometimes, they were made of the purest white.” She lifted the skirt of the dress and let it slide through her fingers. “I like the silver.”

  “I like it, too.”

  “Instead of marking their mate’s face—” She idly touched the star inked near the corner of her eye and wrinkled her nose. “—they gave each other rings as a symbol of their love and unity.”

  There was a wistfulness to her tone, a longing in her gaze. Xi still didn’t see what the big deal was, but anything that made her look that happy was okay with him. If she wanted one of these “weddings,” he’d give her the most lavish ceremony anyone had ever seen.

  “Everything just feels so different now.” As she spoke, she traced the lines of lace on the bodice and sighed. “I understand why things changed, and why we had to adapt after the wars. I just think it’s sad that we let some of these traditions die.”

  Now, that, he understood.

  There had been a lot of changes on Xenthian since the king’s mate had crash landed on their planet. Vasera Blackthorn’s arrival had exposed a lot of lies, eons of manipulation, and brought about a revolution of sorts.

  All good things, but he couldn’t help but worry that too much change too quickly could lead to the kind of situations Cynda described. He could only hope his people wouldn’t make the same mistake, that they wouldn’t forsake millennia of tradition and culture to usher in progress for the sake of progress.

  “What about your parents?” Cynda asked. “Did they have an extravagant bonding ceremony?”

  The blood in his veins turned to ice at the mention of his parents.

  “The ceremony itself is a little more sedate on Xenthian, but I’m told the celebration afterwards was the party of the century.” He’d tried to sound casual, to hide the emotions warring inside him, but judging by his mate’s scrunched brow, he hadn’t succeeded. He sighed. “My parents died a long time ago.”

  Her gaze softened, and she ran a hand down his arm in an affectionate caress. “I’m sorry if I brought up bad memories.”

  There was no easy way to tell someone that his parents had descended into madness and murdered an entire village, but his mate deserved the truth, no matter how unpleasant.

  “I have many fond memories of my parents.” The darkness that came after would forever tarnish those recollections. “When our youngest brother, Niran, was four, he drowned in the river.”

  Cynda gasped, her hand going to her mouth as her eyes welled with tears. “That’s awful.”

  “It was.” He still felt the pain of that loss every day. “Our parents were devastated, of course, and their grief made them…reckless. They delved into the blackest of magics trying to find a wa
y to bring him back.”

  “Can magic do that? Bring someone back to life?”

  Xi considered her for a moment.

  “I’m sure there is some that can, but that doesn’t mean it should. My parents became obsessed.” He didn’t know if it was their quest for more power or the magic itself that had led them to Danlas Village, and it didn’t matter. Whatever the reason, the result had been the same. “They decimated an entire village before we could stop them.”

  Cynda’s eyes grew wide, and her bottom lip began to tremble. “You mean, you…”

  He nodded. “Syrie, Osian, and I tracked them into the jungle. They were our parents. It was our responsibility.”

  “Still, that couldn’t have been easy.” Her arms came around his middle in a tight embrace, and she rubbed her cheek against his chest. “I’m so sorry you had to do that.”

  Returning the embrace, he buried his face in her hair and breathed in her sweet scent, letting it calm and soothe him. “I’m sorry, too. I wish it could have ended differently.”

  Cynda burrowed even closer, as if she was trying to climb into his skin with him. “Thank you for telling me.”

  No one had forced his parents down their destructive path. They’d chosen it for themselves. While it saddened him to remember them that way, he didn’t feel guilty about what he’d done. They’d hurt so many people, and he had no doubt they would have continued slaughtering the citizens of the Southern Isle if he hadn’t stopped them.

  “I would appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to Syrie.” His sister had done what was necessary to protect their people, but unlike him, she carried the burden of guilt for it, even now.

  Cynda stepped out of his arms and wiped away the tears that stained her cheeks. “I won’t say anything. I promise.”

  “Okay, dry your eyes, fayah.” He didn’t regret telling her about his past, but he hadn’t come looking for her to talk about morbid and depressing subjects. “Jael wants everyone downstairs.”

  “Did she say why?”

  He shook his head.

  “Hmm, well, I guess we shouldn’t keep her waiting.”

  “Probably for the best. She grows more unstable by the day.”

  His mate laughed but smacked him playfully in the arm. “Be nice. She’s pregnant. I can’t even imagine what she’s going through right now.”

  For weeks, he’d done his best not to pry, but the curiosity wouldn’t leave him alone. He made it down the corridor and to the top of the staircase before he finally had to ask. “You came with your sisters for the infertility treatment, but you didn’t take the serum yourself. Why is that?”

  He’d expected stammering, maybe a hint of a blush, but she just shrugged.

  “My mother didn’t think I needed it.” She linked their hands together as she started down the wide steps. “She said it would be a waste, because even if I could carry a child, no one would want to be with someone like me.”

  Xi growled, a primal, animalistic sound he was sure he’d never made before.

  Cynda patted his arm. “I know. I feel the same way.”

  He highly doubted that. She was far too good and kind to want to inflict the kind of violence he was contemplating. “Is there anything stopping you now? Do you not want youngling?”

  They’d reached the bottom of the stairs before she answered. “I do…someday. I think I need to figure out who I am before I become responsible for someone else.” She peeked up at him through her dark lashes. “Is that selfish of me?”

  “No, not at all. I think that’s a very mature and selfless decision, fayah.” Since breaking free of her family’s control, she’d flourished, and he couldn’t have been prouder. “There’s no rush. We’ll wait as long as you want.”

  Her shoulders sagged, and the tension eased from the muscles in her back. “Are you saying you want children one day?”

  He liked younglings. They were a lot less complicated than adults. Honestly, though, he hadn’t given much consideration to having any of his own. Not until he’d met Cynda.

  “With you? Yes. I think I’d like having a daughter with your eyes and my charm.” He winked to show he was teasing. Mostly.

  His mate was still laughing when they entered the kitchen to find everyone seated at the long table in the corner. Luke was smiling. Syrie looked harassed. Osian had his eyes closed, and he might have been asleep.

  Jael glared and tapped her foot impatiently. “It’s about time.”

  “Sorry,” Cynda said, still smiling. “It was my fault.”

  It wasn’t anything of the sort, but he kept his arguments to himself when she squeezed his hand almost hard enough to hurt. Well, if that was how she wanted it… “She’s a terrible influence.”

  Jael snorted. “Right. I’ll believe that when pigeons fly.”

  “But pigeons do fly,” Cynda whispered out of the side her mouth, her confusion written in every line of her face.

  Xi rolled his eyes and shook his head. His sister was getting better with human sayings and Earth slang, but she still screwed them up just as often.

  “Pigs,” Luke corrected with a chuckle. “It’s ‘when pigs fly.’”

  “Whatever.” Jael waved her hand, stopped, then tilted her head. “What’s a pig?”

  By the ancestors, they were going to be there all morning at that rate. “You called a meeting? What did you want to discuss?”

  “Right, yes.” She pointed toward the two empty chairs at the end of the table. “Sit. I have news.” She didn’t even wait for them to do as she’d ordered before she started talking again. “Before we came to Earth, we were warned that our magic might not work the same here as it does on our home world. I don’t think any of us expected it to be this bad, though.”

  That was a fucking understatement. Xi couldn’t even do the simplest of spells anymore without wanting to vomit, pass out, or die. Not exactly in that order.

  “I’ve been thinking for a while now that this isn’t normal, but I couldn’t figure out why our magic would be causing so much distress here. Then, the other day, Cynda—” She smiled and dipped her head at Cynda. “—mentioned the protective shield around the planet.”

  Everyone, save Luke, stared at her blankly.

  “And?” Osian asked.

  “Well, when Xenthian was cloaked, the particle inhibitors actually—”

  “Jael.” Syrie arched an eyebrow at her. “No one knows what you’re saying. Speak plainly.”

  Giving them all a glare that would melt the sun, Jael held her arms out to form a large sphere and spoke her next words very slowly. “Big shield around planet make magic no work right.”

  Osian looked as confused as Xi felt. Syrie mirrored her sister’s glare. Luke was trying so hard not to laugh he looked in danger of passing out.

  Cynda giggled.

  “I think what she’s trying to say is that the shield protecting Earth is interfering with your magic.” She bobbed her head slowly. “That makes sense. Your magic is energy based. So, if something disrupts that energy, no more magic.”

  “Yes!” Jael beamed at Cynda like she was her star pupil. “Exactly!”

  It was all very fascinating, but Xi didn’t give a damn about the hows or whys. He just wanted to know what they could do to fix it. “I’m assuming you’ve found a solution?”

  In answer, she retrieved a black, metal box from the kitchen island and carried it over to the table. “After consulting with Serra Spartan-Archer—she’s the one who developed the shield—we made a deal with the Artanes to procure these.”

  She held up a clear, glass pendant attached to a length of black chain. Etched in the center of the glass and pulsing with green light was a mazika leaf, the emblem of the Southern Isle.

  “Essentially,” Luke explained, “it’s a frequency buffer. You still won’t be at full strength, but these will help.” He passed a necklace to Syrie, then another to Osian. “No more nasty side-effects when you use magic.”

  Cynda shook her head w
hen Jael passed both her and Xi two of the pendants. “I don’t need this. I don’t have magic.”

  Jael smiled kindly. “Not yet, but you will. Think of it as a mating gift.”

  “Thank you. That means a lot.” She slipped the chain over her head and centered the pendant between her breasts. “These are lovely. The Artanes do good work.” Her gaze flickered to Luke. “What kind of deal did you have to make with them?”

  “It was more of an exchange, really. These pendants for a drug to stop projectile vomiting.”

  “My stars,” Cynda breathed. “What in the galaxies do they need that for?”

  “No idea. Whatever they’re working on, they’re keeping it under wraps for now, but it’s wreaking havoc on the developers. Namely, the Artanes themselves.”

  While he listened to them talk, Xi pulled the pendant on over his head. The relief was instant. The muscles in his neck unknotted. His chest expanded to allow him to take his first deep breath in weeks. The fog that had clouded his brain lifted, and power coursed through him, igniting every nerve ending.

  Glancing at his siblings, he could tell they were feeling the effects as well. Syrie even smiled.

  “You are a genius, little sister,” Osian announced, interrupting Luke. “Well done!”

  “That is much better,” Syrie agreed. “Thank you.”

  “Yes, thank you.” Rising from his seat, Xi strode over to his sister and wrapped her in a tight hug that lifted her off the ground. “I’m proud of you, princess.”

  He had his mate, his family, and now, he had his magic back. For the first time since leaving home, his life was pretty damn close to perfect.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The last week of April ushered in spring storms that darkened the sky and drenched the city. The rains overflowed the lake. The wind tore through the trees, scattering the delicate new blooms. Muddy pawprints had become a constant on the kitchen tiles, courtesy of an extremely disgruntled Daisy.

  Despite the gloom outside, the atmosphere within the mansion had changed considerably since everyone had started wearing the pendants. Laughter could be heard throughout the halls more often now. Family gatherings around the table had become a nightly occurrence.