by Brea Viragh
He dropped her to the ground as gently as possible with her scrambling limbs, trying to keep his eyes from dropping to her naked form. “Sit down and try to relax. I wish I had something to help you, but at least you have a skull of granite. You should be fine soon.”
Much to his surprise, Odessa pushed at him. “You need to go!” she insisted. “The mage is here. If he finds you—”
His face sharpened. “Let him. Let him come for me and see what happens.”
“You don’t understand. He told me to run, for sport. He’s the one who chased me through the woods, who shoved at me...” She trailed off, straightening. “Did he shoot at me?”
“No.” Calen grabbed her by the shoulders to keep her still before she could push at him again. “There were no gunshots. Only your scream.”
“But I heard a shot. What if he’d been aiming for you? He knows you’re here!”
Her eyes were wide and round, boring into him with a type of panic Calen would have never thought possible for her. God, what had changed between them?
Even now he touched her in a proprietary way he wouldn’t have dreamed of before, trying to calm her terror with the soft voice of logic. He sent waves of reassurance through whatever bond they shared. “Dessa, no one else is here. And if he’s hiding in the shadows waiting to terrorize you again, we will deal with him together. Come on, let’s get a shirt on you. Are you hungry?”
Her fingers continued to dig into his arm. “I heard a shot,” she insisted.
There was a hint of the fire he was used to. The fire that made her dancing come to life, that filled her with a passion that could ignite a room. A little of his worry slipped away at the familiar stubbornness in her eyes.
“I don’t doubt that you heard one,” Calen told her, trying to be reasonable. “This Mage is doing things to your head. Forcing you into situations where he has the upper hand. Wouldn’t it be like him to send you running into the woods only to torment you? Making you hear things that aren’t real?”
She took a couple of deep cleansing breaths and nodded. “Yes. Yes, of course you’re right.”
“Let’s sit down and take a look at that cut.”
“It’s not bad,” she said, then swore viciously when Calen dabbed at the area with a corner of his shirt. “Jeez, man, are you trying to torture me? Just leave it alone.”
They both knew her words held no heat. He recognized it through the bond, an energy of relief at his appearance, although neither one of them spoke about it.
“I wish I had some pain meds for you.”
“I’m fine. I was only out cold for a few minutes. No nausea, no dizziness. I was...flustered. I wasn’t paying attention. Boy, it’s going to be one boomer of a headache.” She reached out to him, not seeming to worry as she stepped close and her breasts brushed the side of his arm. “You got scratched.”
Calen tuned into the pain only at her words. “A few stray tree branches and green briars. Nothing to worry about. Clothes?”
His attention dropped painfully to the swell of her chest. To the stray sliver of moonlight illuminating the length of her legs and the curve of her thighs. Oooh, man. He needed to put those thoughts back in the dark closet of his mind, where she would never know about them.
As it was, he could swear he saw a blush rise to her cheeks seconds later.
“I, ah, left your bag of clothes behind a boulder here, hoping to hide them from the mage.” She pointed over her shoulder. “I don’t think he knows about them. He was too busy badgering me about learning my lesson to bother searching the area.”
“Learning your lesson?” Calen repeated when she strode across the sand toward the rock in question.
“Yeah, the reason I’m here. He said something about...” her voice went muffled as she shrugged into one of his shirts, “me learning a lesson is the only way I’ll be free.”
“I heard you scream,” Calen said softly. “It was like a knife through my heart.”
“I didn’t know you were here.”
“I didn’t know I’d make such good time.”
Her eyes darted off into the woods. “Did Van come with you?”
Calen swallowed over the lump in his throat. “We’ll discuss Van in a minute. Are you hungry?”
When Odessa stepped toward him, his shirt hung nearly to her knees, the sleeves long and dangling. She ran her fingers through her hair and wove the strands into a loose braid. “Um, I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know? You’re always hungry.”
“Well, things work a little differently when I’m a swan during the day. I think I fill up on whatever disgusting things I can find on the lake. I don’t eat when I’m human.”
He wanted to kick the mage straight in the balls for the sorrow rolling off of Odessa in waves. Her face dropped, and navy-and-midnight waves rolled through the bond. Calen felt everything then, as though the proximity to her had awoken some distant part of him he had been only vaguely aware of until this point.
Shaking his head to clear it, he stared at the lake, wanting desperately to touch her. “How about I try to cook something for you?”
Odessa let out a laugh, a twinkle of sound that warmed his insides. “Yes, you can use the gourmet kitchen inside the ruins. Still in good working order.”
“I’m serious. If you can build a fire, then I will provide sustenance.”
“How are you going to do it?”
He recognized what she held back. How would he be able to catch anything when he couldn’t shift?
“Trust me, my dear.” Unable to resist, he touched his lips to the side of her head. “I might be a lowly wolf, but I have my methods.”
When he moved to walk away, Odessa threw her arms around him, drawing him in. “Thanks for being here,” she murmured. “Thank you for trying to help me.”
After a moment, he brought his own arms around her. This is different, he thought, different from carrying her through the woods. Different from any other contact they’d had until now. Although they were too few to count.
Funny how much shakier he felt now that he was holding on to her, shakier than before when her scream had torn through him. If anyone from the pack saw the contact, they would have put an end to it immediately. Would have cast Calen out as they probably should have done the moment they found out he couldn’t shift.
Oh, yeah, I will certainly be punished for this, he thought as he pressed his cheek to the top of her head. If only Odessa wasn’t the love of his life. He would have found the strength to leave the pack years ago if it hadn’t been for her.
Of all the bad luck to fall for the princess.
“How do you expect me to make a fire?” she muttered and had him laughing.
They stayed for seconds longer like that before Calen drew back just to look at her. “I don’t know. Blind faith I suppose. Unless you’d like to try your hand at fishing.”
Odessa shook her head. “I want to see what you can do. Impress me.”
“I would think all those years of baked goods would have impressed you already, but I see I still have to prove myself to you.”
“Fish is a long way from tarts, hotshot. Let’s see what you can do.”
How could she look so incredible with nothing on? No makeup, her hair undone, and a streak of dirt marring her left cheek. And how could someone like him ever hope to romance her? To seduce her, as the lure of his blood urged him to do?
Something must have come across their connection because Odessa’s eyes widened, and she let out a half-laugh. “Whatever it is you’re thinking, stop it.”
Calen eased back and resisted the urge to touch his lips to her skin again. “I’m not thinking anything.”
Her finger wagged at him. “You think I can’t tell? Those lustful thoughts are going to get you in trouble.”
It was her first mention of the strange connection they shared, spoken so easily and lightly that he might have thought it didn’t bother her.
It should.
“No lustful thoughts. Just thinking about the fire and how I’m going to enjoy watching you try to catch a spark. This will be a chance for you to take care of me for once,” he teased.
“I’m injured here. You can’t expect me to do something I’ve never done when I have a scratch like this.” Odessa pointed to her forehead, her eyes wide.
Better for them to ignore the tension, he knew, a flicker of her own...interest...slipping through her mental defenses. The surprise of it had him taking a step back and breaking contact.
Her face was scratched and her hair wild, but Calen thought he’d never seen a more beautiful sight. Something inside of him softened. “Do you want me to teach you how to build a fire?” he offered gently.
Odessa reached her arms above her head, eyes narrowed. “I’ll figure it out, thank you very much.”
Concern flashed over his face at the pain she tried to hide. But Calen did what she wanted and focused on rolling up his pants, acting as though he’d seen nothing. “Fine then. I have utter faith in you. I’ll get the fish; you take care of the flames.”
While they wait for the mage to return, he thought to himself.
“Let’s see what you can do, Calen,” Odessa teased.
“I think you meant to say, ‘let’s see which one of us completes our task first.’ A little friendly competition. But we better hurry. It’s almost dawn.”
He waded into the lake, unsure what the new aspect between them meant. That sliver of interest...it wasn’t possible.
But it was interesting.
Chapter 18
Van paced his room with an inferno burning in his veins.
Calen had taken off to the lake. Calen, who had seen Van with Ghast, had drawn his own conclusions and decided to run instead of act like a man and confront him. Or maybe the trouble he claimed to sense was the truth.
Oh, Calen had tried in his own way to nut-up and express his displeasure at the intrigue—a nice way to put it—but then he hadn’t stuck around long enough to hear Van’s answer. Although he had a feeling that, even if Calen hadn’t bolted like the law was on his ass, he wouldn’t have accepted the answer.
He wouldn’t have understood the steps it took to play this game, because he’d never been embroiled in it before. The bottom of the totem pole might be a less-than-ideal place to be in some ways, but in others...it was paradise. Outside the tight circle of intrigue where every wolf ahead and below waited to stab the knife in and twist.
He paused long enough to lace his fingers behind his head, leaning into the contact with a groan when his back cracked. If he cared, he could track Calen, although it wouldn’t take long to figure out the path. The wolf had gone to the lake, gone to Odessa. It left the brunt of their work to Van alone.
Another few days and he might be forced to take drastic action.
A soft knock on the door had him whirling in that direction, a wave of power pulsing out to identify the person on the other side.
Nova.
Another pulse and the sound-dampening spell keeping his private thoughts, just that—private—released.
The door swung open with a soft snick, and the second of the twin wolves stood there with his head bowed.
His face tightened. “You must work quickly to come to me so soon,” he said carefully. “And right under the nose of the alpha you claim devotion to.”
“You wanted information. And I have found it,” Nova pushed. The door closed behind him and shut the two of them inside the room.
The magic snapped back in place to keep them from prying eyes and ears. One small slip, Van thought, and this could end.
How did you get the information? He wanted to ask the question and found his lips immovable.
The twins, though not in the same room, shared a connection between them since the womb, a silent language that none other would ever hope to understand. It had been Ghast he asked to find the pelts, and Nova who delivered.
“Where are they?”
They had little time to waste on pleasantries and conversation. Nova crossed to the curtains and shut them, sealing out the night.
Van’s heart stumbled at the set of the other wolf’s shoulders.
Then listened when Nova turned to him with a nod. “We checked the attic first and saw nothing out of the ordinary. Several eyes went to the outbuildings on the property, other places like the one Calen’s parents used to possess. Nothing. Then to the basement. We found crates there that have not been opened since Darrow’s father held the mantle of Alpha. None held the scents you were looking for.”
“But...” Van trailed off.
“Yes. But.”
The crackling fire snapped in the silence.
“There was a scent of fresh air, and when followed, it led to a chamber that we didn’t know existed,” Nova stated at last.
The source of the tightness, the shame. Van recognized it now. There was guilt, swift and brutal, at the thought that something important had escaped the twins’ notice. Something that might have potentially endangered the lives they sought to protect. Or allowed their enemies to slip inside the manor house.
“Did you see inside the chamber?” Van pressed.
Part of him empathized with the difficulty Nova and Ghast faced, having their allegiance not exactly torn but stretched. Shifted to suit the needs of the greater good. But he had no time to indulge in those kinds of thoughts.
Temper did just fine, considering their circumstances.
“Show me.”
The demand did the trick, and a short time later, the two of them strode down the narrow circular stairway toward the basement of the manor house. Although tidy upon first glance, dust lined the shelves of the barrack-like room, the empty chamber echoing their footsteps.
“What is this space used for?” Van scrunched his nose and stared into the rafters. The single line of bare bulbs cutting through the center of the space remained unlit. His eyes did fine on their own.
Nova shrugged, offering him a sly smile. “Nothing at the moment. A storage space for things better kept out of sight but of too much value to be tossed. I’ve been down here several times laying traps for rodents. I never noticed the air current before.”
Because no one would think to look for it. And if a slight breeze happened to cut through the room, it could easily be explained as a draft. Old houses and all.
Van took in the room, noting the exits or lack thereof. This place hadn’t been on the tour Alex had given himself and Baron. Instead, the door had been gestured to vaguely, Alex brushing aside the basement as old and moldy. Though the faint hint of mildew did decorate the air, Van was more interested in what was hidden rather than the cleanliness.
He followed Nova toward the left rear of the room with a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Where?” His voice echoed.
Nova pointed forward and Van’s gaze cut across the floor to the opposite wall. He didn’t give the wolf a chance to speak when he pressed his hand against the wall. Yes, there was magic here. The type he’d become familiar with only because of his books. His learning.
Inside the stones came a churning, restless energy. A storm surge waiting to be released.
Nova remained a step behind him as Van surveyed the wall, pushing the rest of the crates and boxes out of the way until he had a space cleared.
Some small part of him whispered in response to that magic. He knew that if he brought it into himself, harnessed it for his own, he wouldn’t need to bother with these silly games. He could take what he wanted out of principle, because he deserved it. Because he was the best damn hope for his people, and a magic of this magnitude would only help him grow stronger.
Nice try.
He shook his head against the siren song of temptation. People already thought he and his pack dabbled in the black arts. One little slip and he might actually become the monster they thought him. By choice.
Like the monster his brother had been.
Even in the years he’d been pushed down, s
tarved for weeks at a time, he’d maintained hope of a better future, the light inside of him refusing to be extinguished.
If he broke now, when everyone needed him the most, then he’d deserve the knife in his heart the same way he’d done to Theron, the blood warm on his hands, dripping down his chin.
“Do you know what’s beyond these stones?” he asked Nova in an undertone.
“No,” Nova said, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his overcoat. “The chamber I sensed, I’ve never known of its existence. And if I had before, I’m not sure I would have been bothered to look. This space...it feels wrong.”
He turned to stare back out at the expanse of the main room.
“We were told to keep out of this space, and we obeyed. Now I understand why.”
Exactly. Van’s senses were going haywire, his intuition on high alert. Around them, the room had fallen into a hush, and through the glass windows to the front, he could see a hint of moon glowing against the navy-and-ebony marble of the sky.
So much life out there. And through the bricks...death. Van could almost taste it on his tongue.
“There are protections here, wards, to keep prying eyes away.” It was a credit to the twin wolf’s power that Nova sensed the shifting air in the first place. “I can’t trace who did it, or why, but the option is to either burst through with a sledgehammer, which we do not have time to do, or use magic to counteract the ward.” Moonlight glinted off the flash of claws at the apex of his fingertips, and Van shot Nova a slow grin. “You might want to stand back for this.”
It was more power than he was comfortable using, true. More than he should have allowed himself to expend. And the cost would reveal itself eventually.
Nova frowned but did as requested, his breath coming out in a puff of white in front of him as the temperature dropped unexpectedly.
Van closed his eyes, pulling the energy from the air around him in a move he’d read about but hadn’t practiced. He’d need whatever juice he could get to break through this ward. More than a simple locking mechanism, like the one he’d used to protect his room and Calen’s parents’ cottage. This was a labyrinth, the magic twisting in and back on itself to keep people out.
