I focus on Harker. “I think Echo is what Marika saw in her vision of the future. I think Echo is the return of the Arcana, but not as we know it. I think the Patch family must share a family tree with Marika.”
I hold back on telling them about Hunter. If he is Marika’s safeguard, then I can’t have the council interfering. And if he isn’t, then I will deal with him myself.
“Go on,” Harker says.
I fill her in on Echo’s power, the way it had ebbed but recharged on its own to allow her to heal Micha, the fact that she is both kindred to Micha and scalemate to Lyrian.
“That’s impossible,” Bane said. “She’d have to have Draconi and Shedim genes.”
Harker lets out a bitter laugh. “And what’s to say she doesn’t? Interspecies relations were high leading up to the war. Humans were dazzled by the Shedim, and when the no-eating-human law was passed, Draconi found more recreational uses for humans. But even before that, Shedim hid among humans, and Draconi could have snuck into human territory for a little fun. We know that Lupinata and Sanguinata can’t procreate with humans, but back then, no one checked if that was the case for Draconi and Shedim.”
“You’re saying she may have Draconi or Shedim ancestors?” Bane looks incredulous. “After all the precautions we took when recruiting for the Hive.”
Precautions. What are they talking about? But they are too focused on each other to notice my confusion.
“It looks that way,” Harker says. “We have had four generations since we emerged from Midnight. I have no idea how long the interspecies procreation could have been going on before that. Genes sometimes skip generations.”
Midnight … easy to forget that Harker and her people had lived trapped in a bubble of reality, cut off from the rest of the world for decades. The world has truly changed for all of us.
“We need to protect her,” Bane says. “If she is the re-emergence of the Arcana, then she is unique.”
“Yes.” Harker nods. “We keep her safe, but we do not interfere in the natural course of events.”
“Unless she’s about to die,” Bane adds.
She gives him a flat look, and he flashes her a smile that is all fang.
“I’ll get Emory to run some tests to look specifically for Draconi and Shedim DNA markers,” Harker says. “In the meantime, you need to prepare her to transport the orb and arrange another harvest run for next week. We need the rest of those crops.” She looks to Bane. “And we have a meeting with Rydian to prepare for.”
“Rydian is coming here?” I can’t help but wrinkle my nose.
The sea dweller is dangerous. He’s also a king.
Bane meets my eyes, and my disconcertion is echoed there. “He refuses to let our guardians go even though they can no longer wield the staff.”
“He’s holding them hostage and has threatened to feed them to his more carnivorous courtiers unless we give him Echo or hand over the crystal.”
Oh, shit. This is not good.
Harker blows out a breath. “Let’s hope we can come to a compromise.”
“When do they arrive?”
“Three days’ time. The full moon shift and the mating ceremonies for the Lupinata are tonight, so with those out of the way, Councilman Carmach will be free to attend. It would be good if you could make it.”
Echo wouldn’t be delivering the orb until after the meeting date. “I’ll be there.”
But in the meantime, I’ll do everything in my power to protect the woman my lover died for. Marika’s ability to prophesize had been one of her Merlin blood skills passed down directly from Merlin himself. Echo is the future Marika saw. The future she died for, and I will not let her sacrifice be in vain.
Chapter 16
Lyrian hadn’t touched me since he’d morphed back into his human form, and he was still here, in the Hive, in the guardian chambers. I’d gone into my room on the pretext of changing clothes and called for Hunter. I needed to speak to him, to find out what he knew about the power inside me, and to ask him why he hadn’t reminded me what had happened in the chasm, but he didn’t come when called. When did he ever come when I called anyway? Hunter was a force unto himself.
Back in the lounge, Lyrian was giving the room an icy sweep with his glacial eyes.
“This is cozy,” he said, in a way that suggested he meant the complete opposite.
“No, it’s not. It’s lonely.”
“Micha will be back soon.”
His tone was flat, and the next words popped out of my mouth before I’d had time to think them through. “Maybe you can stay until then?” His gaze snapped to my face and my cheeks were on fire. “Sorry, that was presumptuous, of course, you have stuff to do and—”
“Yes.” He cut me off. “I’ll stay.”
Our gazes remained locked, and then he broke the contact by shifting his attention over my shoulder. “I know this must be awkward for you. You’re used to Micha. You have a connection. You probably feel completely at ease with him.”
“Isn’t that how it’s supposed to be with you too?”
“Yes, but Draconi are only meant to have one scalemate bond; my mother is the only Draconi I know of who has two bonds—one is a kindred bond with a Shedim and one is a scalemate bond with a Draconi. You’re not Draconi, you’re not Shedim, and Micha and I both have mixed genes, so this … this is new territory for us all.”
“So we play it by ear?” The bond had activated when I’d touched him. I walked up to him now, and his body rippled with tension at my approach.
“What are you doing?” His tone was wary.
I stopped a foot away from him. “I wanted to … I don’t know, give you a hug? I feel like we should hug.”
His neck muscles were tense. In fact, he looked like he’d locked himself in place as if he was stopping himself from reaching for me.
“Lyrian?”
He took a deliberate step away from me, putting distance between us. “I think hugging can wait.”
He had the dark vibe, the kind of looks that you’d find on one of the rebel guys in a movie, the ones who rode the motorbikes way too fast and kissed as if their lives depended on it, as if every kiss was the last. But he was ice, and he was stone, and he was out of reach, and my fingers ached to touch his face, to trace his jaw and run my fingers across his full lips. My feet itched to bridge the distance between us, but these were physical urges, almost instinctual, and my brain was processing the fact that he wanted me not to touch him.
I had to respect that.
I studied the floor. “Okay. How about I show you to your room; I mean, you can have any room you want.”
He strode straight into my room and then stood by the bed staring at the rumpled sheets—I wasn’t big on making the bed. What was the point if I was just going to get back into it again in a few hours?
He took a deep breath, and the muscles across his back rippled beneath his cream shirt. “This is your room.” He turned and walked straight out.
“Lyrian?” I followed him back into the lounge.
“I’ll be back. I need to contact the Keep. Let them know I’ll be staying for a few days.”
And he was gone, leaving a lingering scent that was zesty and fruity. The room was suddenly achingly empty. Was this what we were going to be like? It felt wrong. My gut told me he was acting wrong, but with no real reference for how right should feel, there was nothing to be done but wait and see how things unfolded between us. And then another thought occurred to me. Finn … I would have to tell Finn about both Micha and Lyrian. My stomach churned. How would my Lupin lover take this news?
I was slick with sweat, heart beating fast, when Emory’s scent hit me. Sandalwood and masculine and home. Why the heck Emory smelled like home was a mystery, but he did. I stopped punching the bag and slammed a palm into it to halt its crazy swing. Best not to look at him. Best not to make any eye contact. Micha had explained how I needed to stay clear of Emory until he’d been re-inked and Gideon was back under
control. But shit, it was hard to keep my gaze down when all I wanted to do was see him. It felt like forever since we’d shared the same space when, in fact, it had only been a couple of days.
Still, I kept my head down, not wanting to wake up Gideon. I raised a hand. “Don’t worry, I’m leaving.”
He caught my wrist as I made to walk past. “Don’t. Just … stay a few minutes.”
He sounded tentative, unsure, which was so the opposite of Emory, my mentor, that it gave me pause. But the fact that he was holding my arm, that Gideon could come out at any minute, had my heart in my throat, whether from fear or anticipation, I couldn’t honestly say.
“I don’t want to … upset you.”
“He’s sleeping.” Emory stepped closer so his body heat was brushing my side. “Look at me. I won’t hurt you. I’d never hurt you.”
I looked up into his eyes that glittered like a night sky. “I know you won’t. I’ve never doubted that.”
His smile was a slow burn and beautiful. “Good. That’s good to hear.”
His gloved hand was still wrapped around my wrist, but he carefully released me now. “I heard about Micha and Lyrian. It seems you have a kindred and a scalemate.”
“Deacon told you?”
“Yes. I’ve been instructed to take some fresh blood samples. It’s why I came to find you. I need to run some more tests.”
“What for?”
“We’re going to look for gene markers. Draconi and Shedim.”
His words clicked together in my mind to make perfect sense. “You think I have ancestry with those races?”
“You always were quick, Echo. Yes, that’s exactly what we believe. It would explain the kindred ability.” He canted his head. “And I’ve been thinking … if the arcana altered your spirit, maybe it could have made the recessive genes dominant somehow?”
“But why?”
“I don’t know why any of this has happened. It could all be chance, or there could be some big cosmic plan.”
“Cosmic plan?” I couldn’t help but laugh. “With me as the star? Yes, that sounds likely.”
My sarcasm had him frowning, but in the next instant, his gloved fingers were brushing my cheek. “Don’t sell yourself short, Echo. You’ve always been special.”
What was he talking about?
He caught his bottom lip between his teeth, as if wrestling with a question, and then dropped his hand from my face. “You kept Gideon calm, you know. For over a year, when I was around you, Gideon would be still and silent. He’d behave, and then you fell into the chasm and everything changed. When you touched me, he surged up, eager and hungry.”
Yes, that was Gideon. Eager and hungry and … something more. Brutal and honest and able to tap into parts of me that were private. He’d been in my mind. He’d been inside me.
My mouth was suddenly dry, pulse fluttering with the echoes of the memory. “I became a trigger.”
He nodded. “Yes. But I’m working on it. It won’t be a problem any longer. I won’t let him out.”
There was conviction in his tone, but there was conflict on his face, and although part of me wanted to examine his body language, another part was busy examining his words.
“I kept Gideon calm … Was that why you asked me to become a heart keeper? Was that why you told me I’d be perfect for the job?”
He averted his gaze. “Yes, that was part of the reason.” When he raised his lids there was yearning in that look. “But that wasn’t the only reason. I enjoyed your company. I thought you were brilliant, still do.” His attention had dropped to my mouth.
“And that’s all? You enjoy my company?” What was I even doing? What was I asking?
His nostrils flared, and then he released me. “What else would there be?”
Of course, what else would there be. I smiled tightly. “Okay, well, we should get these blood samples taken before I trigger you.”
He released me. “Get washed up and meet me in the Protectorate lab in half an hour.”
He left quickly, as if he couldn’t wait to get away from me, which, taking into account the fact that I was a trigger for the beast inside him, was probably an accurate assessment of the situation. But the thing that didn’t make sense was if, like Micha had said, Gideon was a part of Emory, and if Gideon wanted me sexually … then didn’t that mean that a part of Emory wanted me too?
It didn’t matter because he was my mentor, and he consciously didn’t see me in that light, so why did that make me feel so down? God, I was turning into a greedy bitch. One-man woman my arse.
Damn you, arcana, what have you turned me into?
Chapter 17
Finn was waiting for me in the guardian quarters, but he wasn’t alone. Lyrian was there, leaning up against the wall right by my bedroom doorway with his arms crossed. If glares could turn someone to stone, then I’d be carting Finn out in a wagon.
To give the Lupin credit, he was taking the scrutiny in stride, shoulders relaxed, arms loose at his sides, body encased in butt-hugging, torso-defining clothes that made me want to rip them off. God, I’d missed him.
Finn turned to the entrance as I stepped through, and his whole face lit up at the sight of me. My heart swelled, and I ran across the room right into his open, waiting arms.
“God, I missed you.” I pressed my nose to his chest and inhaled him; my body tightened, eager and hot for him as it recalled our last encounter—my first time with him, with anyone. He’d claimed my body, and my body wanted more.
He held me tight, his chin resting on the top of my head. This was good. This was right. But his heart … His heart was beating too fast against my cheek. Dark tendrils of doubt wrapped themselves around my mind.
No. I was being stupid. It was the full moon shift tonight, that was probably why his heart was racing. This was the effect of the pre-shift change to his metabolism.
I pulled away to look up at his face. “I thought we were meeting tomorrow. Isn’t the full moon shift tonight?”
He was looking at me as if I were his last meal and someone had told him he wasn’t allowed to have it. He was looking at me as if he was about to say goodbye. The tendrils of doubt tightened on my mind.
“Finn? What’s wrong?”
His hands slid up to cup my shoulders and panic shot through me. I shook him off and stepped back. “No. Don’t do that. No one ever says anything good when they do that.”
Finn’s gaze slid Lyrian’s way. “Can we please have some privacy?”
“No,” Lyrian said shortly.
Finn looked to me, but my heart was in my throat because I knew, I knew what he was going to say, and I knew that his words were going to undo me. There was no way I was going to do this alone.
“Lyrian stays.” I raised my chin, clenching my jaw to stop the tremble of my bottom lip. “Say it.”
Finn closed his eyes, his face contorting as if he was in pain, and fuck, if it was anything like what was going through my body right now, then I was surprised he wasn’t on the floor rocking and keening. How the hell was I even able to stay so stoic?
“Just say it, damn you, Finn.”
“I can’t do it, Echo. I can’t leave my pack.”
The words exploded from his lips like barbed bullets and tore into my chest, right into my heart, and even though I’d known they were coming, there was no hiding from the pain that ripped through me.
Fight.
I took a shuddering breath through my nose and exhaled slowly while his words hung between us like a toxic cloud, and then the heat of anger bloomed in my veins.
My hands clenched into fists. “I knew it. I’ve always known, and I prepared myself to let you go. I held a part of myself away from you because I knew we couldn’t be together, and then you …” My voice cracked, and I cleared my throat. “You changed the rules. You gave me hope and promises. You took a part of me. You made me believe it was safe in your hands, and now you …” I pressed my lips together. There was nothing more to say. “G
et out.”
“Echo. You must understand. I have no choice. The pack needs a strong alpha, it needs—”
“I don’t give a shit what it needs, okay. I really fucking don’t. All I care about right now is not having to see your lying face ever again.”
A small part of me, the logical, sane part, said that I was being harsh. It counseled me to hear him out, to let him have a say, but that part was a whisper against the raging fire of injustice that had my chest ablaze with the need to smash him with my fists and break him down like he was breaking me right now. The bigger part needed to shatter and weep, and I needed him gone before I broke because I’d be damned if I’d let him see me like that.
“Echo, please. It doesn’t change the way I feel about you. I still lo—”
“No. Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it.” This was my fault. I shouldn’t have slept with him. I should never have taken that step until he was free. My fault for being a rose-tinted-spectacled fool. The fight rushed out of me as my limbs succumbed to an aching heaviness. “Please … just get out. Go.”
Finn reached for me but didn’t make it because Lyrian was standing between us like a wall.
“My mother always taught me to respect a woman’s wishes,” Lyrian said, cool and calm. “Maybe yours didn’t?”
Finn glanced at me around Lyrian’s bicep. His jaw ticked, and for a moment, I thought he might fight back, that he might push Lyrian aside and reach for me anyway, but then he nodded. “I’m sorry, Echo. I truly am.”
He brushed past the Draconi and strode out of the lounge.
Gone.
He was gone.
A long second passed, and then a strangled sob broke from my throat. The sledgehammer that Finn had just wielded finally hit its mark and my knees buckled. Lyrian grabbed me around the waist and swung me up into his arms. I wrapped myself around him, pressed my face into the crook of his neck, and allowed the dam to break.
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