by Quinn Loftis
Sincaros eyes narrowed. "Why?"
"Thalion, prince of the elves, is leading an army out of his realm with the sole mission of destroying the covens in Canada."
Sincaro’s gaze bore into the spot where his guest had just been. Then he picked up the phone and dialed Caine’s number.
"Get everyone out. Use the underground tunnels. Use the forests at night. The elves are coming, if they aren't already there."
"Elves?” the younger vampire responded. “I thought the elves didn't involve themselves in the business of other supernaturals.”
"Apparently, they've changed their stance."
Peri followed the wolves and the warlock king up through the tunnels. Alston was bringing up the rear. Nissa still hadn't returned from Jeff Stone's pack and she was beginning to wonder if something had happened to the high fae. Cyn was helping Thalion eradicate the vampires in Canada, or at least she hoped that was what was happening. Peri had a strange feeling in her gut. Something just didn’t feel right, but she couldn’t pinpoint the reason for her anxiety. As they moved through the tunnels, searching for their enemy, she felt as though something important was eluding her.
She heard the vampires before she saw them. She pushed away the feelings that were quickly threatening to suffocate her. She needed to be able to fight with a clear head. She'd worry about this new mystery anxiety after wiping Sincaro and his vermin from the earth.
One minute they were running through tunnels and the next they were being herded. Vampires seemed to be crawling out of the crevices of the walls coming at them from all directions. Who knew they could move like that? Peri watched in horrid fascination as they came crawling down the sides of the walls and ceiling of the tunnel like cockroaches. They hissed and began dropping to the ground and that’s when all hell broke loose.
Peri held out her hand and a silver short sword appeared. It had been a long time since she'd used the weapon, and she'd honestly hoped she'd never have to use it again. Apparently, when you are an immortal being, such things are too much to ask. Epic battles between good and evil seem to happen every so often. You just can’t sit on the sidelines; then you’d miss all the fun. The high fae swung the blade and it became an extension of her will. Every vampire that came within reach of her lost its head. She thrust a bit of her power into the blade with each swing. After all, what good was having vast powers of light if you couldn’t use it to decapitate a few vampires?
Peri heard Alina snarl and watched as the she-wolf held up a vampire by its throat with one hand and then punch her clawed other hand into the thing’s chest cavity. Bitch was bad ass. The Alpha female turned and met Peri's eyes. Blood was splattered across her cheek and her eyes were glowing. She looked like a supernatural warrior. Peri bowed her head slightly to her. Alina returned the gesture and then turned just as a female vampire leapt at her.
Peri turned her attention back to her own battle as more and more vampires came at them.
"Where are they coming from?" Cypher yelled as he cut down two vamps at once with the huge blade he wielded.
Peri didn't have an answer for the warlock king. All she could do was continue to fight and hope that, at some point, Sincaro would run out of warriors.
“So you’re a werewolf?” Bethany asked, still a little skeptical despite having heard the woman called Peri tell her this and then disappear before her very eyes.
The wolf paced in the cage, stopping every now and then to look at her. Then he would huff as though it was her fault he was locked in a cage, and he would continue pacing.
Every time he stopped to stare at her, Bethany wanted to fidget under his intense gaze but she refused to be intimidated. She'd spent eleven years of her life afraid; she wouldn't live like that anymore.
"You never have to fear me. I would never hurt you. I only want to keep you safe, and if it's in my power to do so, keep you happy."
Her breath froze in her lungs. Okay, so now she was afraid. The voice was in her head again. And the wolf had been looking right at her when she heard it.
"Are you talking to me in my mind?" she asked him as she pressed herself back against the wall as if it could absorb her body.
"Yes. All true mates can speak through their bond. You can speak to me mentally, if you want."
"I think I'll just…keep talking to you like this," she pointed to her mouth as if he wouldn't understand without the motion.
He sat down on his haunches—okay that's a weird way to think of it if he really was a man—and stared straight at her. He was a beautiful animal. His fur was soft and was shiny; his eyes were like liquid silver, bright, if not a tad wild looking.
"How old are you?" he asked as he continued to study her just as closely as she was studying him.
"Eighteen. How old are you?" Was she really doing this? Was she really going to sit here and have a conversation with a wolf?
"Would you prefer I take my human form?"
The question took her off guard. Would she? She didn't know. She'd never been around a human man before—at least not as a grown woman. She'd been with the vampires so long she didn't even know how to feel about men.
"About me?"
"What?"
"You don't know how to feel about me, not just any man."
"Do you have to do that? Read my thoughts? It's kind of unnerving."
"I've been waiting for you for so long. I want to give you the space you need, but you are all that is keeping me sane. Either I touch your skin or I touch you mentally through our bond."
Bethany didn't know what to say to that. She was talking to a wolf who could speak to her through her thoughts, and he'd just told her that she was the key to his sanity. Her? As if she was sane herself. She stood suddenly and the wolf stood as well. She felt as though the walls were closing in on her. The room was getting smaller and the air was being sucked out and she was going to suffocate.
"Bethany, listen to me."
His voice filled her mind but all she could think about was trying to get air into her lungs. She leaned over, placing her hands on her knees as she tried to keep her balance. The world was beginning to break apart into little squares and she could feel herself falling forward. Then the world went black.
Drake phased faster than he ever had before. He flung his arm out through the space in the bars and caught Bethany's head before it could hit the ground. He lowered her gently down and brushed the hair from her face. She was exquisite. Her hair was as black as pitch and her skin as fair and creamy as milk. It was striking in its contrast. Her eyes were a startling color of aquamarine. She had long eyelashes and full pink lips. Her nose was small and cute and her cheeks were high, hinting at an aristocratic appearance. She looked like a fairy queen. She was small—at least a foot shorter than his 6'2" frame. His hands easily encircled her wrists and he felt as though the slightest amount of pressure could snap her bones. She seemed so fragile and yet she'd survived living with vampires. She’d been fed on for years. She wasn't fragile, she was strong—resilient—and she was his.
Drake ran a finger across her cheekbone and down her jaw. He couldn't stop touching her. Just this small touch pushed the maddening darkness back enough that he could think a little more clearly.
Several minutes passed before she started to come to. Her eyes fluttered several times before finally opening. They met his and Drake felt as though he'd been punched in the gut.
It took her a moment to realize that she was looking at a man and not a wolf. He saw the moment she realized this as she pushed herself up and scampered back away from him. Drake was mindful of the fact that he was completely unclothed and kept himself in a position that would not give her an eyeful.
When he spoke, he did so softly, not wanting to startle her any further. "Would you throw me a pair of those pants?" He pointed to the far left of the room where a shelf stood in the corner containing stacks of folded sweat pants.
Bethany's eyes didn’t leave him as she slid sideways until her hands hit the she
lf. She grabbed a pair and stepped to the part of the cell furthest from him and pushed them through the bars. Drake waited until she was back in her spot, pressed tightly to the wall, before moving.
"I'm going to stand now, so unless you want a quick anatomy lesson, you might want to turn your head or close your eyes."
He waited for her to comply but she just sat there staring at him. "Bethany," he said her name softly. "Are you okay?"
Still she didn't speak. Drake didn't know what to do, but he knew he couldn't just sit there naked. So he stood and turned to grab the sweatpants. He pulled them on quickly, his back turned to her. When he turned back around, he nearly smiled because her once fair skinned face was now as red as a ripe cherry.
"I warned you," he told her with a small amount of laughter in his voice. He sat down less than a foot from the bars, directly across from where she sat. Drake met her gaze and then waited. It didn't bother him to just sit and stare at her. She was here, his true mate, finally. He could wait for as long as she needed, just so long as she would stay close to him.
Drake could feel the confusion, disbelief, and uncertainty running through her mind. He was trying very hard not to just read her thoughts. He didn't want to violate her privacy but he needed to keep the bond open. If he was going to keep the darkness from completely taking over again, he needed her light.
"There is no light in me," she said suddenly. Her voice was soft and her lips had barely moved.
"What?"
"You think you need my light. I don’t know what that means but I do know that there is no light in me. I've lived in the dark for too long."
Her words twisted his heart. Her childhood had been ripped from her, her innocence taken away in an instant. He hadn't been there to protect her.
"It wasn't your job to protect me," she said. A frown creased her brow.
Drake shook his head. "You're wrong. You've always been mine to protect and you always will be."
"You can't be more than five or six years older than me. So what could you have done at the age of thirteen? How could you have stopped a vampire?" she challenged. He saw the flash of strength and defiance that had probably kept her alive all these years.
"I am much, much older than I look," Drake admitted.
He guessed that she must be deciding to ignore his comment because she moved right on to something else without addressing it. "You have an accent," she pointed out. "Where are you from?"
"I'm originally from Romania. My family joined the Serbia pack not long after I was born. So I've lived in Serbia most of my life."
"Do you remember where you are from?" Drake asked, trying to tread carefully, yet hoping against hope that she would keep talking.
"I'm from Phoenix, Arizona. I don’t know where I've been for the past eleven years. I haven't been above ground since they took me."
Drake’s jaw clenched. "I found you in Phoenix, so you’ve probably been there the whole time."
"I don't know if my family is still there," she admitted. "Sincaro would never tell me if he did anything to them. He would just tell me that I didn't need to worry about them."
"I'm sorry, Bethany." Drake didn't know what else to say.
"It's not your fault."
Tears pooled in her eyes as she stared at him. Her gaze was unwavering and he admired her that she held her chin high after all she'd been through.
"My life will never be normal, will it?" Bethany asked him.
"I'm the wrong person to ask, love. I don’t know what normal is. I'm a werewolf, remember?"
A small smile touched her lips. "A werewolf. I don't even know what to say to that. I mean, I know it's true, obviously. But that doesn't make it any less strange." She seemed to be gathering her nerve before she spoke again. "Why did that woman lock you in there?"
"My wolf is a little unpredictable right now. It's for my own safety as well as others." Her eyes widened and he hurried to add. "But not you. You never have to fear me. My wolf could never hurt you. You're my mate."
Bethany's breath caught and her hand slowly lifted until it was lying over the place on her neck where he'd bitten her. His wolf growled and Drake had to snap his mouth shut. His skin felt hot as she looked at him. Her eyes were wary, but not fearful. There was no accusation there either, which surprised him.
"I'm sorry about the—" He pointed to the bite. "I wasn't in control and my wolf acted on instinct. I wasn't trying to hurt or scare you."
"Mates," Bethany tried out the word. Her eyes seemed to roam over him, almost as if she was realizing for the first time, other than when he'd put on the pants, that he was man—a man not wearing a shirt to be precise. Her gaze was practically a caress as she took in all of the exposed skin. Drake saw something flash in her eyes, something possessive, and he knew it was her own wolf, dormant though she may be. And by the look in Bethany's eyes, her wolf wanted its mate.
"What are those markings on your neck?" she asked him as she shifted to see if there were anymore.
"All of our kind have markings. They are a message to other wolves. The location of the markings let others know the level of our dominance and where we fall in the pack hierarchy. The more elaborate the markings, the more dominant the wolf. When we find our mate, our markings change. They usually move up our bodies to be visible on the neck. The ones on my neck are new."
"How come you only have them on your neck?"
Bethany saw a flash of pain in Drake’s eyes but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. She was trying very hard not to think too much about the fact that she was talking to a werewolf—a very, very attractive, male werewolf.
When her eyes had fluttered open, she'd been taken aback by his rugged handsomeness. He was tall, definitely over six feet in height. He had dark, wavy, unruly hair that was long enough that it would brush his collar if he had been wearing a shirt. His face was chiseled and he looked as though he'd gone a day or so without shaving. His nose held a slight bump in the center where it had probably been broken. But rather than distracting from his looks, it only added character to his face. His body was thick and muscular. Where most of the vampires she'd seen were sleek and trim, Drake was solid, but had not an ounce of fat on him. She pushed away the glimpse of his body that she'd seen when he'd stood up. Her mind was screaming at her to look away but her curiosity and shock wouldn't allow her to.
She knew nothing of the opposite sex. Would anyone blame her for being curious? Drake didn't seem bothered by her scrutiny so she continued to look. If he didn't like it, he'd just have to tell her.
"Would you like me to stand and turn in a circle?" he asked her and her eyes flew up to his. His lips were turned up slightly and humor danced in his silver eyes.
"Yes, please," she answered. If he was going to offer then she'd accept.
His brow rose. He'd obviously expected her to be embarrassed or shy. But what did she have to be embarrassed about? She'd been snacked on for eleven years of her life. She'd been told over and over that no one would ever want her. Once Drake realized the depth to which Sincaro had dragged her into his hell, how tainted she was, he wouldn't want her.
Drake stood slowly, never taking his eyes off of her. It was strangely… well, she didn't know what the word was that would describe what she was feeling.
"Intimate," Drake practically whispered. "The feeling is intimacy."
Her head tilted slightly. "Intimacy?"
He nodded. "It's a closeness, something shared between people who are familiar."
"But we don't know each other."
"We are true mates. Our souls recognize one another."
Bethany didn't understand what he was saying but she had to agree that she did feel as though she recognized him, though she'd never seen him in her life.
Drake held his arms loosely by his sides as he began to turn. Just as his back was to her, she saw something that she hadn't seen when he'd been putting on the pants. "Wait," she said quickly as she stood and moved closer.
His back
was covered in scars. They were faint, but they were everywhere. Her breath caught in her throat and she felt anger swell inside of her. Who had hurt him?
"It was a long time ago," he said quietly as he turned to face her. Drake stepped closer to the bars and, like a magnet drawn to each other, Bethany took another step closer toward him. Her head was tilted back so she could look up at him. He was even bigger close up.
"Who did that? Why did they do it?"
Drake reached out slowly, pausing once. She guessed that he was waiting to see if she'd back away. She’d known nothing but the violent touch of the vampires for so long. She’d recoiled from their touches—the way they’d handled her, like a piece of tough steak to be beaten, tenderized, and then consumed. But now she didn’t recoil. She realized that she wanted to be touched, gently, but not just by anyone. Bethany wanted to be touched by Drake—only Drake.
"My old Alpha was a cruel person. He demanded a level of obedience that was impossible to meet. So he punished us." His fingers ran slowly through several strands of her long hair.
She stepped closer again and she was nearly pressed against the bars. His hand moved from her hair to her face, and Bethany held her breath as he ran the pads of his fingers down her cheek, and further down her neck. He traced the tender flesh where his bite now appeared and she felt goosebumps rise on her skin.
Bethany tried to keep her eyes open but the warmth from his hand was seeping into her, making her want to get closer. "Why do I feel like this?" she asked and was surprised at the breathy quality of her voice.
"Because you're mine and I am yours. Touch between mates is potent and powerful."
"So I wouldn't feel this way with another man?" Her eyes snapped open when she heard the deep growl.
Bethany looked up and saw that his eyes were glowing again.
Drake took several deep breaths before answering. "No. There is no other male for you. Just as there is no other female for me."
