Heath considered Kiril’s abilities and decided that although he’d gained Christabel’s power over steel, she was probably more powerful than him regarding metal.
When Sophia lifted her now full-sized gun in Christabel’s direction, Heath only squeezed her shoulder supportively, three streams of water hovering over Christabel, Kiril and the blonde as a precaution. The movement of thorny vines crawling down the brick walls on either side of them showed Raphael wasn’t taking any chances, either.
“Remove the mark you put on me,” Sophia demanded.
“I can’t,” Christabel said bluntly. “For that to happen I would have to die, and I don’t plan on that for at least a few more millennia.”
“Our friend Lilith just passed tragically. Don’t cause me to lose another friend so soon.” Her hands clutched theatrically to her chest, the blonde faery’s voice was mocking, but Heath heard a grain of truth layered deep beneath her sarcasm.
Sophia didn’t lower the gun, but there was no fear in Christabel’s eyes. She took a card out of her purse and handed it to Sophia, who took the small rectangle without compromising the rifle’s aim.
“The witch that healed you also dampened the effects of the mark. In a matter of months, the Fey shouldn’t be drawn to kill you, but they’ll be wary of you. Judging from the cold iron you’re carrying, I doubt you want to make friends with faeries anyway.”
“They won’t attack me?”
“If I’m wrong, which I rarely am…” Christabel paused when the blonde snorted, grinning. “That’s when you contact me using the card. We’ll try and work something out.”
“She’s saying she’s sorry about the whole burning you and plotting your death thing,” the blonde said.
Christabel shook her head, shooting her friend a scathing look. “I’m sorry I was wrong in wanting to maim and kill you,” she corrected in the same tone generally used when explaining something complex to someone unlikely to understand. “He’s the one I should have aimed my wrath at. My mistake.”
The two women frog-marched Kiril out of the alley, Christabel stopping to wave, smirking, as the blonde pulled something out of her bag, throwing it to Raphael with a murmured, “Don’t worry—you don’t look like the Hound.”
They disappeared around the corner, their footsteps fading away.
Bemused, Raphael pocketed the container the blonde had thrown at him. He moved to lift Mary in his arms as Heath and Sophia stood. Sophia clutched a hand over her stomach, refusing to stand up straight, but said nothing of her discomfort, her eyes on the spot where they’d last seen the faeries. “Should we have let them go like that?”
Heath picked her up gently, knowing she wasn’t anywhere near completely healed. Walking would hurt her, and he had no intention of allowing her to feel unnecessary pain. “They aren’t any threat to us anymore, and they plan to hurt the man who is a threat to you. I say let them be.”
Sophia released a critical hmph, but her hands around his neck were soft, caressing.
Raphael nodded decisively. “The last thing we need is to piss off the local Fey because we killed someone we didn’t have to—we never know when we’ll need le marché noir.”
They went toward the entrance to the firehouse, water retreating to the river, vines slithering back to where they came from.
“What happened to Mary?” Sophia asked, eyeing the banshee curiously from her position at Heath’s chest. “She’s out.”
“Apparently her voice doesn’t work against the Fey like it does with humans, or even other creatures,” Raphael responded grimly, his arms tightening protectively. “A couple of days ago she’d told me about a group armed with swords near our loft, and pointed them out today when we were about to leave for a movie at the Prytania.” He shook his head.
“Killing that faery trying to get inside the house was too much for her. Trying to take out Kiril with his faery-based powers sent her over the edge.”
Heath thought he heard his Alpha mutter, Next time, I’m locking her in the studio. With a guard.
Mary was an artist, not a soldier. Her involvement was indicative of how panicked the pack had to have been when the faeries and Kiril came storming in, swords drawn.
“So it’s harder for her to hurt the Fey?”
Raphael nodded, scowling. Heath wondered if banshees were somehow related to faeries. Most likely, they are.
The only creatures somewhat closely related to werewolves were shapeshifters, but Heath had never heard of were abilities becoming harder to use in shapeshifters’ presence. He voiced his musings, asking Sophia and Raphael whether it would be worth an experiment with Aiyanna or one of the police shapeshifters to gain a concrete answer.
He smiled, happy to be discussing possible dangers rather than peril he knew was coming for them. At the moment, he and Sophia, and his entire pack for that matter, were in the clear.
It was a nice feeling, even if he knew it wouldn’t last.
“This is why I’m making you head soldier.” Raphael opened the door to the firehouse, careful not to jostle is mate. “Both of you, if you’re willing to work together.”
Heath grinned down at Sophia, who was beaming, happiness radiating from her despite the severity of her injuries. “I’ve always wanted to be head soldier,” she whispered, causing even Raphael’s lips to twitch despite his foul mood.
Having never been considered powerful enough by his pack, Heath hadn’t thought to be head soldier. “You would’ve offered me this even if I couldn’t use the air to travel,” he told Raphael, feeling the rightness of his words.
“You can what?” Now his friend was smiling like he’d won the lottery. Sophia laughed, her hand reaching up to squeeze Heath’s in silent congratulations. She knew how important his water abilities were to him, how much it meant to be recognized for his water.
In answer, Heath used his secondary power to take Sophia to Aiyanna, who was chugging an energy drink. She clapped her hands together, her eyes wild, when she saw Sophia.
Briony, who’d been kneeling next to Sebastian, sent the shapeshifter a slightly panicked look, but merely plucked herbs and concoctions from the large wicker basket she’d placed next to her hip.
Cael was lying flat on his back and snoring, while Alexandre spoke on his cell phone in a low voice, his feet propped up on a mini-fridge.
“I’ll be right back,” Heath murmured, setting Sophia in front of Aiyanna. Sophia stopped him from leaving with a strong grip on his shirt, pulling his head down to hers.
After a long kiss that had him wondering if she needed to be healed after all, she pushed him away, waving her fingers. “You can leave now,” she said imperiously, laughter in her voice.
Feeling himself grin, he found Raphael walking toward the garage, and took him and Mary to their loft.
“This could get useful,” Raphael murmured speculatively, laying Mary down on their bed.
Heath flipped Raphael off, but the other man was watching his mate, concern drawing his brows together. “I’ll bring Briony over,” he promised. “I’m pretty sure Aiyanna’s wiped out.”
At Raphael’s grateful nod, Heath returned to Sophia, unsurprised to see Aiyanna’s head resting on Sophia’s outstretched legs.
Fifteen minutes later, Briony had wrapped Sophia’s stomach with bandages soaked in healing herbs as well as a few spells. The witch promised a full recovery within a week before Heath took her to check on Mary.
Back in his room, he found Sophia sitting up on his bed, her back propped against a stack of pillows. “We might need a bit more space,” she said, “or at least some redecorating.”
“We don’t have to live here.” Heath took his place right next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “We can live anywhere we want.” Now that I’m free.
She shook her head. “No, this is our pack—it’s important we live near them. We can turn this firehouse into a home.”
Heath nuzzled into her neck,
gently biting the skin beneath her ear. To him, having Sophia here made it home, but he didn’t tell her that. “I love you,” he told her. “What can I do to make you more comfortable?”
She tapped a finger against her chin, her eyes twinkling. “Later, of course, when I can help lift things, we’ll go get my stuff from Halifax. For now, though, I think some sexy playtime would be a good start.”
“Sexy playtime?” Heath bent over laughing, only catching his breath when Sophia started to strip, challenge in her gaze.
“I was going to suggest some very careful lovemaking, since this magic bandage has me pain-free, but you may be too tired…”
Heath caught her wrist where she tried to draw the sheets up, pulling the material down to bear her sweet curves. There was nothing about her body that wasn’t perfect, not even the scar on her shoulder, which only showed the world how much of a fighter she was.
“I can be really careful,” he whispered against her mouth, leaning over her without so much as grazing her stomach.
Heath made good on his promise until Sophia decided there was nowhere else she’d rather be. To be sure, he had her tell him a few times before he lay back, sated and sweat-covered, a satisfied smile pasted to his face.
“Before we get settled in here,” Heath said, running a hand down a line of rare freckles on her arm, “will you travel with me? I’d like to see the world how it is now, instead of imagining it how it was six hundred years ago.”
Sophia sat up straighter so she could face him, understanding dawning on her face. “I’ll go anywhere with you,” she murmured, drawing him in for a kiss. “As long as we come back here if they need us, we can travel for as long as you’d like to.”
With that sentiment, Heath knew he could depend on this woman for anything.
Plans for a home, travel, a future he hadn’t allowed himself to think about for hundreds of years, swam through his thoughts. A man can have everything. He pulled Sophia closer to him, so damn grateful he hadn’t let her go.
Now, he never would.
Epilogue
A mug of mulled wine in her hand, Sophia watched Heath tear down the side of the mountain, his movements rapid and graceful as he expertly navigated a sea of moguls.
He only used his powers to change their shapes a few times.
A small fire kept her warm in her cozy spot at the end of the terrace attached to their hotel suite, tucked deep in the Swiss Alps. When Heath had asked her why she wanted to retire early for the evening, when she could complete one last run before the ski lifts closed for the night, she told him, “There’s something I want to see.”
Now she sat back, drinking in the sight of her mate. When they skied together, she found that she could hardly pay attention to him, the runs they chose far too challenging for her to become distracted by Heath’s long, powerful legs or piercing green eyes she could see even though his tinted goggles.
When she’d tried to look at him, her balance had been thrown off so severely she’d accidentally skied across a patch of ice, propelling forward to land on her ass at the bottom of the run.
Heath had kindly picked up her poles, lost gloves, and hat, and promptly laughed so hard she couldn’t help but hit him in the head with one of the poles he’d returned to her.
He was wearing a helmet, so she felt absolutely no guilt, especially when he dropped a couple of pounds of snow on her from a nearby tree. Despite his laughter, he made sure there was no ice in her path after her wipeout. When she’d snarled at him for letting her cheat, he’d only shot her a wide-eyed look of innocence that made her smile.
She found she liked to see the way he moved—it was fluid, almost feline, like the water he was so connected to. She had a feeling there would be many water-based sports in her future, from the way Heath delighted in both snow skiing and the water skiing they’d enjoyed last week in New Zealand.
Surfing was next on his list, and from some of the videos he’d shown her, it was going to be his favorite. She’d already decided she would sit that one out—she liked most sports, but hundred-foot swells of water made her sweat. You couldn’t pay me.
She waited for Heath to make his way up to the room, drinking the last of the spiced wine and absently wondering if Full Moon would ever break into the cider industry. A few minutes later Heath slammed into the room excitedly, his smile wide.
Extinguishing her fire, she rose, meeting him halfway for a kiss that tasted of fresh snow, pine trees, and a little sweat. Having already dressed for their evening commitment, she helped him strip for his shower, fully intending to let him get ready without interfering.
The eye on his hand was closed, relaxed, a position that had become the norm over the past few weeks.
One look at his naked body, his muscles and erection rigid, the corner of his mouth tilted up at the sight of her hungry gaze, and she was lost. Heath accidentally tore the sweater she was wearing, but she ripped her leggings on purpose.
Sometimes, she just needed to feel Heath against her skin, to wrap herself around him as he did her. She had no regrets when, later, they realized they would be late for their trip back to New Orleans. It was the second week of December, and they’d been traveling around the world for almost a month. Even now, they were ready to go back at the drop of a hat if needed, both of them ecstatic in their new positions in the pack, but they weren’t quite finished seeing the world.
They’d move back to the firehouse permanently for Raphael and Mary’s wedding in ten days, after they visited Hawaii and Asheville, having promised they would stay with Vale during their travels. They’d made the promise during their weekly lunches in Inverness with Heath’s mother. Vale always attended and, like Elizabeth, was thrilled Heath could use air to travel.
Elizabeth had only smiled, her green eyes growing wet when Heath told her his theory about her powers becoming his. From the head and high-ranking soldiers who ate with them regularly, to the men and women who held less aggressive positions in the Inverness pack, it was clear to Sophia that Elizabeth was much loved and respected. It was apparent she was a wonderful Alpha.
Raphael even looked up to her, having brought Mary to Inverness one Sunday.
Sophia helped Heath gather their luggage, unsurprised when he disappeared with their suitcases only to return a moment later. A few weeks ago, when they’d left Berlin for Halifax so Sophia could sort out her affairs with the pack she used to belong to, Heath tried to transport their luggage without traveling with it.
Their things had disappeared, utterly lost in the air. Luckily Heath’s Ducati, bearing not even a scratch from its battle with the weres, hadn’t been among the lost items, or he would have been devastated.
Even so, Heath had been infuriated with himself, but Sophia shot him a dry look and told him, “Do you really think you can master an element in a week?”
It would take decades or centuries, but Heath would gain total control over air as he had over water. She didn’t even mind losing a few more German beer steins along the way.
They didn’t arrive at the firehouse, but inside a cozy home overlooking smooth, blue-green water. She knew she stood in Briony’s grandmother’s house, where she’d agreed to free a member of the pack.
A glance around the open space told her she and Heath were the last to arrive. The mood was solemn, a contradiction to the comfortable atmosphere the home emanated.
They took their seats in soft chairs placed next to the couch Mary, Raphael and Leila sat on. Alexandre, Cael, Aiyanna, Sebastian, Harry, and Briony rounded out the circle made up of mismatched chairs, with an elderly woman seated in armchair, crocheted pillows supporting her back. The woman’s eyes were shrewd, watchful.
“This is Big Mama, my grandmother,” Briony chirped with a smile, oblivious to the tension seeping into the room. The silence was thick and awkward, but no one else spoke, unwilling to alter the assessment the older witch was obviously making.
Finally, Big Mama sighed lig
htly, turning to Raphael. “I’ll tell you what my decision is, who I’d like to free, but I want a fair judgment from you as well. I doubt I’m wrong, but age has told me I’m not infallible.”
Raphael nodded curtly, and Heath tensed beside Sophia. They both knew it would kill a part of their Alpha to revoke one of his men’s freedom, but he would do it without hesitation if it meant a single person might come to harm because of that freedom.
“Sebastian,” Big Mama said, “if your Alpha gives me the go-ahead, I’ll lift your bindings.”
Briony actually squealed, leaping up to kiss Sebastian on the cheek. “I knew it had to be you,” she whispered, likely forgetting the weres in the room could hear her quite clearly.
Tears pricked Sophia’s eyes, but out of respect for Raphael, she only stared straight ahead, praying he agreed with the witch. How could he not, when his only crime was defending his sister against a monster like Kiril? He never should have been exiled in the first place…please see that, please.
Raphael stood, walked over to Sebastian and held out his hand. “I deserved to be here for as long as I was, but you didn’t. It was wrong for you to have been bound for a year, much less the century you’ve been forced to be without your powers. You’re free, Sebastian Frazier. I’ll tell the Elders once Big Mama’s finished here.”
Sebastian shook Raphael’s hand enthusiastically, a huge grin breaking across his face. “You know I’m staying with the pack, right? I have some big plans for Full Moon.”
Alexandre pumped his fist in the air, shouting, “Hell yeah, you are!”
The next few minutes were a flurry of congratulations, hugs, and back-slapping. In his excitement, Sebastian didn’t notice Sophia’s tears as she pulled him into a tight embrace, but Heath discretely wiped the salty droplets away with his thumb once she took her seat again, tangling his fingers with hers while Big Mama opened an ancient-looking text.
This is what a pack is meant to be. Even Cael and Alexandre, the only two left who hadn’t regained their freedom, were obviously thrilled for Sebastian. Their smiles were genuine, and instead of jealousy in their expressions, Sophia only saw hope.
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