by Amy Pennza
The witch gazed at Bard, and the glow in her eyes grew brighter. For a second, Haley thought she was seeing double as an image of Sabine from the past—her black gown shimmering—flickered over Sabine in the present. Both Sabines spread their arms away from their body and spoke in a low monotone, their words like a chant.
“Gift and creed. Beauty and seed.”
The flickering stopped and then it was just present-day Sabine standing there. “That was our agreement, wolf. Don’t you remember?”
Bard grimaced. “I’m reminded every time I look in the mirror.”
“No,” Sabine said softly, “you forget.”
The hair on Haley’s nape lifted. Her heart pounded. In her head, Joel’s voice rasped.
Danger.
“No!” Haley darted toward Bard—
—and was thrown back, her feet skidding on wet glass. Before she could recover, an unseen force seized her and held her in place. Every muscle tensed. Every tendon locked.
Trapped.
She couldn’t move or speak or turn her head. She could only breathe.
And watch.
Sabine moved closer to Bard, her boots once again soundless on the glass. “When you became Alpha, you became the pack. Everything that affects the Alpha affects the pack. You have meddled with our bargain. You’ve upset the balance, and now the magic hungers. What better way to feed it than with an Alpha’s life?” She raised her hand, which suddenly held a long, jagged piece of rose-colored glass with a pointed tip.
No! Haley’s scream echoed in her mind, trapped there as solidly as her body was trapped. Sabine was going to kill Bard right before her eyes. There was nothing she could do about it.
Bard’s gaze flicked from the glass to Sabine’s face. “It’s broken?”
“Yes,” Sabine said.
Broken? Even as she strained against her invisible prison, confusion pounded through Haley’s mind. Sabine was ready to kill Bard and the two of them were pausing to discuss the murder weapon? In her head, she screamed louder.
They didn’t even glance in her direction. Wolf and witch locked eyes.
“It ends with me?” Bard asked.
“Yes.”
A beat passed.
Two.
Bard nodded.
Sabine moved until she stood directly over him.
Haley’s breath caught. He couldn’t just lie there. He couldn’t let Sabine take his life. Not after everything.
Not when I love him
The arrow of knowledge twanged again, striking her in the heart.
I love him. I love him. I love him.
As if in slow motion, Bard’s chest lifted. He turned his head toward Haley.
Their eyes met.
A sad, sweet smile touched his mouth. Then he released his breath on a sigh.
Desperation was a wild animal clawing inside her. She fought the bonds holding her. Sweat poured down her back. I love you! The words screamed though her brain.
His good eye held her gaze.
I love you!
He turned back to Sabine.
Haley strained, every muscle screaming.
Sabine held the glass aloft. Its sharp point winked in the sunlight, flashing rose across Haley’s vision. Somewhere in the distance, glass shattered.
More overhead.
More.
More. Explosions rippled across the conservatory’s roof.
Sabine’s eyes flashed. Her mouth opened on a roar.
“I LOVE YOU!” The declaration ripped from Haley’s throat, and then she was moving. She flew across the glass and flung her body in front of Bard just as Sabine’s hand stabbed down.
The blade streaked at her in a blur—
—and stopped an inch from her throat.
She stared at it, going cross-eyed as her heart threatened to pound out of her chest. “I’m alive,” she said weakly.
Sabine stumbled back. The glass in her hand glowed bright red then vanished in a puff of smoke. The witch yelped.
Haley threw out her arms, blocking Bard’s body. “Stay away from him!”
“Calm yourself, child. You were willing to sacrifice yourself for another. That’s old magic. I can’t touch him now.”
“Oh.” Haley lowered her arms. “Good.”
Sabine gave Haley an assessing look. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”
Whatever. Haley started to turn, then jerked back around. “What about me? Can you still kill me?”
The witch blinked, her expression slightly nonplussed. “No. I made no bargain with you.” Her gaze slid to Ben, who knelt at his mother’s side and now watched Sabine like he’d enjoy tearing her limb from limb. “Nor the Stalwart.”
“So you only have power over someone when they’ve made a bargain with you?”
Sabine looked uncomfortable, but she nodded. “More or less.”
Haley didn’t waste any time feeling relieved. She pointed at Ben, then jerked a thumb toward Sabine and said, “Don’t kill her yet. We might need her.” Then she spun and dropped to her knees beside Bard, her heart going a million miles a minute. She spoke fast, her words tripping all over each other. “Are you all right? You’ve lost so much blood. We’re taking you to the hospital. I’ll talk to that nurse. What’s her name? Anna? I’ll tell her we don’t want any tests run—”
“Haley.” Bard spoke over her, his voice gentle.
She ignored him. “We’ll put you on Ben’s snowmobile. He’s a Stalwart. He can keep you upright.”
“Haley.”
“We should take your shirt off. I want to bandage the wound.” She reached for his buttons.
“Haley!” He grabbed her hands and held them against his chest. “Stop for a second and look at me.”
She stilled, her heart racing.
He gazed up at her, his good eye full of wonder. “I’m all right. You saved me.”
“I did?”
“The wound is healing. I can feel it.”
Joy surged in her chest. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” He reached up and touched her cheek. “You stepped between me and death. How did you know it would work?”
“I didn’t. But I’ve seen a lot of Disney movies.”
Humor lit his gaze. “Haley Michaels,” he murmured. “You would lead a male on a merry chase.”
She smiled. For a second they just grinned at each other, affection swirling between them. Then his smile faded.
“But it can’t be me.”
Her own smile froze. “What?”
“It can’t be me.” His hand fell away from her face. “We can’t be together.”
At first, her brain couldn’t process his words. She stared at him, wondering if she was dreaming. Or perhaps having a nightmare. Somehow, she recovered enough to say, “But you’re okay now. I saved you.”
“In more ways than you know.” He swallowed. “You broke the curse, but I’m still broken.”
“I don’t understand . . .”
Bard’s gaze went stark. Then he looked at a point over her shoulder. “Show her the rest.”
Haley turned. Sabine stood near the edge of the bath, her glowing eyes on Bard’s. She held his stare for a moment, then waved a hand over the water and murmured, “Ostendo.”
This time Haley knew what to expect, so she didn’t jump when the water began to swirl, and she wasn’t surprised when the watery Bard appeared in front of the house in the woods. The black-gowned Sabine stood in the doorway, but now sound emerged from her red lips.
“You ask for great power, wolf. Such magic demands an equally great price. Are you prepared to pay it?”
Haley’s stomach clenched. Knowing the outcome didn’t make the scene less difficult to watch.
The youthful Bard’s eyes flashed wolf blue, and his voice was a growl. “Get on with it, witch. You’re wasting my time.”
Sabine in the vision raised her arms, and the water rippled. The scene changed, switching to the night of Bard’s challenge. He lay on the grass, t
he bloody heart in his hand. The dead body of his opponent was a furry heap on the ground.
Haley looked toward the edge of the water. Sure enough, Sabine emerged in her black gown, her train dragging through the blood, tiny braids shivering down her back.
“I upheld my end of the bargain, wolf. Now you must uphold yours.”
Bard panted, his face flushed from his victory. The eerie glow still surrounded him, making his skin seem lit from within. “Wait, witch. That bastard nearly took my leg. I have to Heal my wounds.”
Sabine shook her head, her braids sliding over her shoulders. “No, wolf. Never again.”
His eyes widened, and for the first time fear leaked into his gaze.
“Gift and creed, magic and seed. That was our bargain.” Sabine lifted her arms away from her body. The glow in her eyes intensified, the amber obscuring her pupils and bleeding over the whites. “You wanted to be Alpha. Magic made it so.”
Bard squinted and angled his head away, her glow clearly blinding him.
“Magic claims your Gift.”
His face drained of color. “You can’t—”
She spoke over him, her voice booming with power. “You wanted to rule over others. Magic made it so. You will rule alone.”
The heart in Bard’s palm glowed brighter. He gasped and shook his hand but his fingers remained curled around it.
“You wanted the others to adore you. Magic made it so. Only the mirror shall reveal your flaws.”
The heart was like a ball of flame, its glow so bright it turned the night to day. Bard threw back his head and screamed.
“You wanted to usurp another. Magic made it so. Your seed dies with you.”
The heart exploded, throwing Bard backwards. His head hit the ground with a sickening thud. Blood spurted from his eye, and he clapped a hand over it.
Eyes still glowing, Sabine murmured, “Magic has a price.”
He moaned, rocking his body from side to side like a hurt child. The claw marks on his face wept blood, and his ruined leg lay twisted beneath him.
Sabine’s gaze moved over him, her expression detached and dispassionate. “Selfish boy, you will suffer greatly, serving as Alpha for all your days and without the power of your kind. Invincible yet broken. Unchallenged and alone. Thus, I will give you two boons. The first is knowledge, which I suspect means little to you now but might someday in the future. There is but one way to break this charm.”
Still writhing on the ground, Bard screamed until his voice cracked.
The witch continued speaking as if she hadn’t heard. “Love, selfish boy. Only true love and a pure heart can break this powerful of a charm.” She paused, her face expectant like she waited for him to say something. When he only screamed again, she shrugged. “The second boon is what your kind calls a Gift. Because you use yours to help others, I shall grant you that ability.” She tilted her head, her eyes on his leg. “But you can no longer heal yourself. That I claim as my own, as is my due.” As she spoke the last, her eyes glowed brighter. Her hair shone and her cheeks grew pink.
With a final glance at Bard, she turned and walked away.
Water sloshed over Haley’s bare feet, jerking her out of the past. As the present crashed back in, her head ached and her knees felt like fire.
Oh yeah. Because she was kneeling on broken glass.
And Bard lay broken on the ground, the same as the vision.
He gazed up at her, a lifetime’s worth of pain in his blue eye. “Are you all right?” he rasped.
No. She wasn’t all right. Nothing was all right. She opened her mouth but no words would come.
He inhaled a deep breath. “I’m impotent, Haley. I can’t claim you. Can’t complete the lux catena. The same wound that took my leg took that part of my life. My opponent’s claws severed my nerves and damaged my tissue. It was part of the curse. You broke it, but I’m still broken.”
Tears burned her eyes. “I don’t care,” she whispered.
“Maybe not now, but you will someday.” When she started to protest, he put a hand on her cheek, his touch achingly gentle. “You deserve a real mate. Someone who can give you a child.”
“That might not happen anyway. Our birth rates—”
“You have to try. You have to link your life to another.”
“I want to link my life to yours!” She grabbed his hand, anger stirring in her chest. “Don’t you understand? It’s you I want. I’ve already chosen you.”
“It’s the wrong choice.”
“You don’t get to make that decision for me.”
“I do when you’re making a mistake.”
Her temper rose. “I’m not making a mistake.”
“Yes, you are. You have so much love to give, sweetheart. Give it to someone who deserves it.”
Now she yelled. “Stop being so noble!”
“Stop being so stubborn!”
“I love you, you ass!”
“I love you, too, but we can’t—”
She grabbed his face and kissed him. He gasped against her mouth, his breath mingling with hers. Then he kissed her back.
Time stilled. The conservatory fell away. The others disappeared.
His hand cupped the back of her head, pulling her closer. She stretched over him until her heart beat directly atop his. Then they seemed to beat in sync.
Glass shattered.
Haley didn’t care. Shards could rain down on her. Cut her into a thousand pieces. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was the male beneath her, his tongue stroking against hers. His big palm moved through her hair, his fingers threading through the strands. Sprawled over him like she was, his borrowed coat rode up, exposing her bare backside.
She didn’t care about that, either.
More glass shattered.
He sucked on her lower lip.
She moaned and angled her head more to one side, giving him better access. He plunged his tongue into her mouth like he couldn’t get enough of her. How much time passed, she couldn’t say. She gave herself over to sensation, reveling in the firm lips against hers, the strong heart beating the same rhythm as her own, and the gentle fingers stroking her curls.
He was warm. Every part of him was warm. His chest, his hands, his mouth. His skin was so hot against hers.
Too hot.
In her mind, a faint note of alarm sounded.
The warmth spread . . . and grew. Suddenly, he wasn’t just hot.
He was burning.
Her eyes flew open. A gold glow blinded her.
She gasped and scrambled off him, then stood on shaky legs.
He was glowing, his good eye wide, his expression astonished.
Without warning, wind rushed through the conservatory—a warm breeze that tugged at her hair and rustled the roses. A million whispers filled her ears, swooping around her and whipping dried leaves into the air. They swirled around Bard, climbing and spinning. Faster and faster and faster. The wind became a torrent, spinning around his body and lifting him up. Glass and rose petals joined the leaves, swirling in tight bands that quickly encircled Bard’s body.
“Bard!” She stood, heart racing, unable to help. Her hair flew around her head. The wind tore at her coat. She reached out.
The wind buffeted her, nudging her back.
She held her hair out of her face, her heart beating a frantic rhythm. If the glass touched him . . .
But it didn’t. The bands surrounding him held their shape, swirling around him like ribbons.
His glow increased until it was an aura around him, the amber color streaked with tiny bolts of lightning. The wind held him up, his body seeming to float in the air. The whispers increased.
She reached for him again.
Again, the wind held her back.
Then it changed him.
Leaves, glass, and rose petals spun like a tornado around him. As they whipped in furious circles, the scars on his face faded. Jagged, puffy lines disappeared. The wind snatched his eye patch away, revealing
his pale, withered eye and the starburst scar.
Haley met his gaze . . . and watched as the starburst faded and the film left his eye. Blue flooded his iris, and he looked at her with two whole eyes for the first time. His hair flew around his head, and the silver turned to black. Free of scars, his features were bold and pure, with a rugged jaw and full, firm lips.
She stared, heart racing, unable to look away. He was Bard from the vision, the young male who stormed away from the witch’s door and fought to lead his pack.
Yet he was also different. The arrogance and anger were gone. His eyes were clear.
And shining with a love so pure she forgot how to breathe.
The wind spun and spun, leaves and glass and rose petals flying. It tilted him so his feet pointed down. Slowly, it lowered him to the ground. As soon as he touched the tile, the glow faded from his skin.
As quickly as it came, the wind left. Shattered glass and rose petals fluttered to the ground.
Bard held his hands in front of him, his gaze full of wonder as he examined fingers free of scars. Then he looked at her and opened his arms.
She ran into them, letting out a whoop as he lifted her off her toes and twirled her around, his blue eyes crinkled at the corners. He spun them in a circle, his strong arms wrapped around her. Then he lowered her to the ground and cupped her face in both hands.
“What did you do?” he asked, awe in his voice as his gaze searched hers. “What did you do, you beautiful, wonderful, magical girl?”
“I . . . don't know.”
“True love’s kiss,” a low voice said behind them.
He lifted his head. Immediately, his expression darkened.
Haley turned in his arms. Sabine stood between them and Ben, who was helping a dazed-looking Glenna stand.
“That’s a real thing?” Haley asked.
The witch shrugged. “The humans occasionally get something right.”
Haley leaned against Bard’s chest. “Huh. Disney movies.”
“Is this some kind of trick?” Bard asked. His voice was hard and wary, with a veneer of anger over everything.
Haley put a hand on his forearm. He had every right to hate Sabine, but it wasn’t worth picking a fight with her. She’d shown what she could do.