Dangerous Decisions (Obsidian Flame Book 3)

by J. C. McKenzie

  Ice froze her veins. “Not the children.”

  “No, not the children. Not this time. The ispolini let them live.”

  Misha blew out a sigh of relief.

  “Sparing those children is one of our people’s greatest regrets, and arguably one of our biggest mistakes.”

  “What?” Misha recoiled.

  “It’s always the mistake after the mistake that gets you. Letting those innocent children live did not spare our people from the dragons’ revenge. The feud had started. Romano’s heirs, devastated from losing their parents and uncle, grew up and waged war on the ispolini.”

  Misha gulped. “All this because two people loved each other?”

  Nana’s face crumpled and her gaze grew distant again. “Aren’t all major tragedies birthed from great love?”

  Misha sighed while she panicked on the inside. Hank’s face flashed in her mind. Did they have a chance to end this hate? Or would they only add more fuel to the fire and cause utter destruction?

  Misha’s parents had been true mates. Her mom’s calm nurturing demeanor a sharp contrast to Father’s and probably meant to temper his more horrific plans. But she died young and Father became worse with age. Marian often struggled to talk any sense into him.

  Hank and Lara’s parents had been true mates as well. Lara mentioned it at the diner before Hank showed up and ruined their girl time.

  A chill ran through Misha’s blood. If she and Hank had children, they’d be zmei. Would Father step aside for them? Or would he try to stop them from ever existing? Misha shook her head. Her heart already knew the answer to those questions.

  “Thank you, Nana,” she said.

  The old woman dipped her head.

  Misha hesitated, the fragility of her sharp-tongued elder suddenly obvious and devastating. “Maybe I can come by tomorrow for more tea?”

  Nana flashed her a sad smile. “I would like that.”

  Misha returned her grandmother’s smile and reached for the door. She gripped the cold doorknob and swung the door open.

  Father stood on the other side of the threshold, gaze blazing, and mouth firm. Marian stood behind him to the right with his dark brows furrowed.

  “Father.” She dipped her head.

  “You’ve been naughty, daughter.”

  Uh-oh.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Many generations ago…

  Edgar paced back and forth in the grassy clearing, the long blades whipping against his tall boots. He shouldn’t have left her. He should’ve taken her away then and there in the marketplace and sought a new home with her. The message had been clear: Her parents wouldn’t break the contract made with Romano. They insisted on enforcing it.

  Why would anyone deny a true mate bond? Why did they not believe them? Even Romano speaking on his behalf to Father had not softened the old man’s heart. He wouldn’t listen to reason and Edgar knew better than to try discussing the subject on his own.

  Maybe he should have. Maybe he should’ve fought for the home Ilana deserved. Instead, they’d run off like thieves into the night, stealing only their freedom to feed their hearts. Ilana had yet to arrive and, with each inch of the sun setting on the day, Edgar’s worry grew. Where was she?

  Take a deep breath, his dragon said. She’ll be here soon.

  Yes. She’d be here soon and then everything would be okay.

  The bush rustled. Finally. She’d arrived. He turned to the path.

  Romano stepped from the trees, expression solemn. “She’s not coming, brother.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Present Day…

  Marian shifted his weight while he waited in the hallway outside the seer’s room. Nathalie had always set him on edge with her potent power and knowing gaze. He was content to stay at a distance. The door swung open and Louis stormed out. The building shook when he slammed the door closed. The subtle scent of roses escaped with him.

  Marian waited. He’d learned over the years it was better to let the boss cool down instead of pressing for details.

  “He’s her mate,” Louis spat.

  Who’s mate? What the hell was he talking about? Louis had officially lost it. He’d dragged his own daughter to the cells and ignored her pleas of innocence. Frankly, if Marian had woken up to an empty room with the anti-shifter shackles on the ground and the door left wide open, he’d also assume they’d removed the dragon to either torture, kill or relocate. Her story was plausible enough to consider. But no. Her own father threw her in a dirty cell, lined with grime like some thieving street rat. Then, without a word, Louis had stalked to the nearest seer.

  Marian froze. His stomach sank. Louis’ three words smacked him in the heart as he replayed them in his mind. “Misha’s mate?”

  Louis snarled. “A dragon. A fucking dragon.”

  The sinking feeling expanded, and invisible weights pulled down his limbs. She had a mate. And it wasn’t him. He’d patiently bided his time to approach her and finally made his move and it was all for nothing. One giant ginger-haired dragon ruined his dreams. “How is that possible?”

  “The seer foretold this abomination.”

  “I thought seers couldn’t see our mates?” Marian said. Surely, Nathalie made a mistake.

  “They can’t scry for ispolini, but they can search for dragons just fine.”

  Quiet descended on the hallway while Louis seethed and Marian attempted to patch his heart back together. “You think she let him go?”

  “Of course she did.” Louis stalked down the hall giving Marian no choice but to follow. “Sentimental and stupid.”

  Misha was neither, but her father never took the time to get to know the phenomenal woman his daughter had become. Marian needed to shift Louis’ attention away from Misha. They had bigger problems. “We need to move compounds, and quickly.”

  Louis ignored him and exited the building. Marian caught the door before it slammed in his face and pushed it open. He jogged to catch up with Louis and walk by his side. Some of the children played soccer in a dirt field and a few women looked up from a bench they sat on. Crows perched on the fence railings and the awnings of the nearby buildings. Some ispolini folklore claimed ispolini women used them as conduits and familiars in the past. Another skill lost to them.

  Would Louis let Misha mate with a dragon? His heart ached at the idea of Misha with anyone but him, but a true mate should never be denied. Marian never stood a chance.

  It would’ve been worse if he’d already had a relationship with her. Instead, only his dreams and private fantasies were crushed. His own true mate could still be out there. Somewhere. Maybe. They had to survive Louis’ plans first.

  “What will you do?” Marian asked.

  Louis’ expression closed off as his gaze shifted side to side, mulling over Marian’s question.

  Another thought struck Marian and the weight on his heart lifted a little. If Misha and Hank came together in a truly bonded union, the two warring races might consider a truce. Was this why Louis appeared unconcerned about an impending dragon attack? “This could end the feud.”

  “Oh, it will end it, all right.” Louis’ lip curled up. “We’ll use Misha to lure the dragons into a trap and kill those bastards.”

  Marian gaped at him.

  “If none survive, the war is over. We win.”

  “We could let them be together instead,” Marian said.

  “We’ve lost too much for this to end in peace.”

  “At least consider moving our base.” Marian hesitated and glanced at the children playing soccer. “We have more to lose.”

  “You’re my war general, not a peacemaker.”

  “I’m also your advisor. Our numbers have dropped to a critical level. We do not fare well in direct battle with the dragons and without an inside connection, your—our—previous tactics will no longer work. The loss of life will be astronomical if we meet them on an open battlefield.” Frankly, Marian rejoiced when the dragons discovered the mole. Their previ
ous tactics of sabotaging the Astarot’s mates still made him sick. When he learned of Louis’ horrific actions, he considered leaving.

  But he had nowhere to go.

  “You have always had a weak stomach,” Louis said.

  “Children are sacred.” Marian curled his hands into fists. Marian had been a child himself when the last culling occurred, but he’d promised himself another wouldn’t occur. He’d overthrow Louis and face the consequences if he had to.

  “Not dragon scum.” Louis headed down the path to the main building.

  Marian ground his teeth and followed, passing the impromptu soccer game and the women sitting on the bench. How the hell would they defend them all? They’d already lost a lot of warriors. “The dragons will be coming for us. If we’re not going to move, we need to prepare.”

  “I have a plan.” Louis drew his shoulders back and straightened. “Prepare the ritual.”

  “What ritual?” Shouldn’t they be making a defence plan? Or setting some sort of trap?

  “The Mate Harness.”

  Ice descended over Marian like a cold shower. He couldn’t possibly mean to… “She’s your daughter.”

  “And now she’s the enemy.”

  Marian’s mouth dropped open.

  “For once, she’ll be of use.” Louis stepped close and leaned in to hiss. “Think about it. Think of the abomination she’d create if we let her rut with that animal. Her mother and I were true mates and our information on O’Reilly indicates his parents were as well. You know the legend. We can’t let this happen. Misha will end up the vessel of our destruction. We can’t allow her to mate with that dragon and create a super weapon. Or weapons. They will use the zmei against us. She will be our own downfall.”

  The women on the bench stood and headed down the path toward them. One of them raked Marian’s body with her gaze. Samantha, he remembered. Her father often bragged of his daughter’s beauty during security briefings and war council.

  “Misha could be our salvation. A means to an end,” Marian said.

  Louis shook his head and turned to go.

  Marian thrust his arm out and grabbed the other man’s shirt. He pulled Louis in close and waited for the women to walk by before he spoke. “History is repeating itself and we have a chance to make it right. To do better than the dragons did all those years ago.”

  “You believe that old crone’s ramblings?”

  “Your mother is the ispolini storyteller. Yes, I believe the tale, and you must, too, if you give the zmei any consideration.”

  “Whether I believe her tales doesn’t matter. I will not bet our future on the chance the zmei prophesy is true. Nothing says for certain the zmei will unite us. It could ruin us instead.” Louis jerked out of Marian’s hold. “Better we harness Misha’s connection to her mate with the ritual and destroy the dragons once and for all.”

  The sinking feeling in Marian’s stomach twisted into a tangled pit. The children finished their game and ran by him squealing. He either had to support his leader as he was raised and trained to do and partake in the death of a woman whose only sin was living, or he had to betray his people and risk Louis was right. Whichever decision he made the results would be deadly.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The door to the cell wrenched open. Metal groaned and a set of footsteps slapped the damp stone. Dust motes drifted in the air, illuminated by the minimal light. Misha lifted her head, pain pounding behind her swollen eyes. Her shoulders ached from how they’d handcuffed her wrists behind her back. Such overkill. They’d already locked her in a cell. Why handcuff her, too?

  Overkill was her father’s middle name. Overkill and inattentive—two contrasting traits her father had honed both to painful perfection.

  Marian crouched beside her and cursed. “Who did this?”

  She opened her mouth and winced. Her lips cracked and old blood coated her mouth. She licked her cracked lips and tried again. “Who do you think?”

  Marian frowned. His concerned gaze scanned her body. “He prepared the Mate Harness. I’m to escort you to the site.”

  Misha sucked in a breath. The Mate Harness was infamous in their culture. The powerful ispolini spell transferred the potent magic in the mate bond from the couple to fuel other spells—mostly vile curses and visions of the future—destroying the mated couple in the process.

  He knew.

  Father knew Hank was her mate. His return visit and beating made more sense now. He’d been furious and wouldn’t speak. He just hit her again and again. Father was always prone to violence, but he’d never beaten her like this.

  “He knows,” she said.

  Marian nodded.

  “And you do, too.” That fact made her a little sad for some reason. She’d never had a relationship with Marian, but maybe she would’ve, given time.

  “Everyone knows.”

  “Everyone?”

  “Well, everyone in his inner circle, at least.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. What the hell was she going to do? The ritual would use her death to wreak havoc on the dragons. Through her unconsummated mate bond, Louis could reach Hank and through Hank’s bond with the Astarot, he could torment Raf. And by default, Lara.

  And Louis would kill his own daughter to do it.

  She was dead the second he discovered Hank was her mate.

  “Kill me,” she said.

  Marian jerked back, eyes wide. His boots scuffed the hard floor.

  “Do it now or give me a weapon so I can. Please.” She was dead anyway. At least she could save the others. Her heart sunk. Though her chances were already low, now she’d never be with Hank.

  Marian glanced around the prison cell as if they had company. Maybe they did. Maybe more of her father’s men waited outside.

  “I can’t do that.” He spoke softly at the floor. Coward.

  “You can and you will. Not for the dragons, but for me.”

  He gave her a pained look. “It’s because of you that I can’t do what you ask.”

  Oh.

  “But you’ll lead me to slaughter?” she whispered. It seemed she had a lot in common with Father’s general. Well, two things, at least. They were both ispolini and obedient to a fault.

  Marian looked away and silence descended on the jail cell. He took a deep breath, his large chest lifting under the armored plate. Without a word, he reached behind her and unlatched the chain connecting the handcuffs to the floor. It hit the concrete with a clank.

  “Come on.” He gently lifted her to her feet.

  The room swam and she swayed where she stood. Marian held her arm and supported her until the waves of dizziness and nausea subsided. He’d always been nice to her. If only he cared enough to save her. But he wouldn’t. He was her father’s right-hand man.

  When she nodded, he released her, keeping one hand on her arm to guide and steady her. When they stepped out of the jail cell and turned the corner, three more of Father’s men waited. Unlike Marian’s kind gaze, these warriors stared at her with open hostility.

  Ah.

  Even if Marian had released her, she wouldn’t have gotten far, and if he’d killed her as she asked, he would’ve signed his own death warrant.

  She glanced at Marian. He dipped his chin so slightly, she almost missed it.

  “Did you check her?” One of the warrior’s snarled. What was his name again? Anthony? Andrew?

  “For what, Albert? She hasn’t even been caged for a full day,” Marian said.

  “Dragon taint,” another guard spat. “Who knows what she contracted from that dragon scum.”

  Marian sighed. His hand on her arm tightened slightly. “She doesn’t have any weapons.”

  “I’ll check for myself,” Albert said. “You have always had a soft spot for the boss’ daughter.”

  “I think you mean hard,” the third warrior said. The men chuckled.

  If her hands weren’t bound, she’d punch them all in the throats.

  Marian
stiffened. “You forget yourself, Albert.”

  “I forget nothing.” The warrior shouldered past the other two and scanned Misha. His lips curled down and he reached forward to frisk her with ruthless efficiency. His large hands patted her down, cold, meaty palms slapped her body and ran along her legs. He checked the waistband of her pants and socks. Thorough, but still an asshole.

  “Satisfied?” Marian asked.

  Albert grunted and stepped back. “Let’s go.”

  They shuffled single file until they reached the door leading to the outside and then reformed into a two-by-two procession with Marian at her side. They marched her from the compound to the path through the forest that led to the nearby clearing. Morning dew clung to fresh blades of grass as the early rays of sunshine crested the meadow. The long blades slapped Misha’s jeans, leaving whip-like trails of moisture on the fabric and the sun burned her eyes.

  Marian led Misha from the damp shadows of the forest. Crows watched their progress from the safety of the overhanging branches. The other warriors pushed ahead and set a course to meet her father and grandmother

  “For what it’s worth,” Marian leaned down and whispered. “I was against this.”

  “Thanks. I’ll take that small consolation to the grave.”

  Marian pressed something small and metallic into the palm of her hand. What the hell?

  “Hopefully, there will be no grave for you. Not for a long, long time.”

  She rolled the object in her hand. A key! He’d handed her a key to the handcuffs. She stiffened.

  “Shhhh. Keep walking. Don’t look at me. Keep that scowl on your face. Yes. That one. Like you wish me dead.”

  She kept her gaze forward and marched on. She didn’t wish Marian dead. She never wished him harm. He was as much a product of his environment as she was. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Your father will destroy us all.”

  He was right, of course. It’s something she knew deep down but never wanted to admit. She didn’t want to see it. Did anyone want to believe the ugly truth about a parent?