by Cynthia Eden
Darkness grew around him.
“Well…” Devon’s grating voice rang out. “Guess we have a new shifter king in town. Congratulations, Elliott.”
Elliott. His friend. His enemy.
Since Griffin had banished Carmichael, Elliott was the next in line to rule.
“I’ll bring you back,” Valerie promised again. Her lips pressed to Griffin’s.
Funny. He couldn’t feel her kiss any longer. He couldn’t feel her at all.
Don’t bring me back, baby. Don’t. That was the only rule that mattered.
***
Griffin was dead.
Elliott stared at his friend’s body. So many bullets had torn into Griffin. Too many to count. And they had stayed in his body. He could see the smoke rising from the silver bullets buried within Griffin.
Valerie was crouched beside Griffin’s broken body, and tears streamed down her cheeks. She was whispering to him. Kissing his face. And he’d never seen such pain before. It seemed to ravage her.
Devon clapped his hand on Elliott’s shoulder. “Was it everything you wanted and more?”
What? It was—he shook his head. What was happening?
Soft laughter reached him. Taunting laughter. Familiar, female laughter. His head turned. The guards moved back, and there she was.
Genevieve. His Genevieve. The witch who’d come to him months before. Offering him every desire. Offering him a kingdom. If he’d just take it.
But Griffin is bleeding. Griffin is dead. And he was my friend.
Genevieve seemed to glide toward him. A faint glow lit her features. She looked more like a perfect princess than a witch. So heartbreakingly beautiful.
But…
Griffin was my friend.
And Elliott found his gaze sliding back to the cell. His head pounded. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. “Griffin?”
Valerie’s head snapped up. “I am going to rip you apart.” She swallowed. “After I get him back.”
Elliott’s hands locked around the bars. “Griffin!”
Valerie’s hair whipped around her face. She grabbed for Griffin, held him tight, held him close. His blood covered her as she chanted.
Deep claw marks ripped into her arms. Into her face. Fire burst around her.
“Quite the show,” Genevieve murmured. “Do we really have to watch it? Can’t we just poison her now? I mean, we have the Medusa venom.”
Her perfume seemed to fill the air. Elliott’s temples throbbed harder. His chest ached.
“I told you already,” Devon sighed, “we need her weak. She’ll bring him back, she’ll be weak, and then we can take her out.”
“The Medusa venom will take her out. It takes out every witch.” Annoyance snapped in Genevieve’s voice as she stroked her hand over Elliott’s arm. “We just need someone to go in that cell and dose her. She’s distracted right now. It’s the perfect opportunity.” Her fingers slid to his cheek. “Elliott, darling…” She smiled at him. “Take this poisoned knife. Go in that cell and plunge it into Valerie’s back. She’s distracted, and she won’t see you coming.”
Valerie’s body was being clawed by something, but she was still clinging tightly to Griffin. Holding him as if she’d never let go.
Because she loves him.
“Elliott, did you hear me?”
His gaze slid back to Genevieve.
“Plunge the knife into her back.” She pushed the knife into his hands. “Devon and I can’t go into the cell. If we do, the magic will trap us, too. No witch can enter. That’s why it has to be you.”
He shook his head. It hurt. Everything hurt.
But he was shuffling toward the cell. She’d opened the door for him. He stepped inside.
Blood. So much blood.
And why was he going to stab Valerie? Why?
“Do it for me,” Genevieve called out. “Because you love me.”
Right. He loved Genevieve. He shuffled forward. The flames around Valerie burned his arms, but Elliott didn’t care. He had one goal. Valerie’s back was to him. She was right there.
She was…
Fighting to bring back Griffin.
Because she…loved him?
What am I doing?
“I think your love spell is breaking,” Devon’s voice seemed overly loud. Worried.
“My spells don’t break,” Genevieve snapped back. “He’s done everything I asked, hasn’t he? And he’ll put that knife in her back. He will do it.”
Elliott was lifting the knife. He didn’t want to lift the knife. He wanted to drop it. He wanted to help Griffin. He wanted to stop Genevieve.
Because he didn’t love her. He’d…thought he did. He’d thought she was his mate. That they would have a life but—
Spell.
“V-Val…” Elliott tried to speak her name, even as his hand kept rising.
She didn’t look back at him. She was too intent on Griffin. Far too intent.
“V-Val…” Please, look at me.
And she did. She whirled toward him, surged up—and the knife sank into her shoulder. Her lips parted as she gasped. As she shuddered. Then she fell. Just fell right there, her body as stiff as a board. Her eyes were wide open. She stared straight at Elliott’s face.
And a tear slid from her eye.
“She’s out!” Genevieve’s voice shouted. “Get her!”
The witch guards rushed into the cell. Guards who’d shot a shifter with magic bullets. Guards who grabbed Valerie and dragged her stiff body out of the cell. Elliott turned to follow them, his body lurching as he thought…I can get her. Stop—
Genevieve slammed the cell door shut. “Darling, he might wake up.”
Griffin was dead. Lying in a pool of his own blood.
My friend.
“I lied about no witch being able to enter the cell. Sorry. I was just afraid Valerie might kill whoever entered. You were expendable.”
He’d stabbed Valerie. His shifter king was dead.
Genevieve gave him an admonishing glare. “I don’t know if she finished the spell or not. You took your sweet time stabbing her.”
Valerie.
Valerie cackled when she laughed. And when she looked at Griffin, when she thought no one was watching, her eyes would light up.
“Take this gun,” Genevieve ordered as she shoved it through the cell doors. “It has bewitched silver bullets in it. When you aim at the target, it will sink into the prey, no matter what. Aim for Griffin’s heart. Just in case, you know. Wait and see if he wakes up, and if he does…shoot.”
He pushed against the cell door. It was locked.
She smiled. “I’ll come back for you as soon as Valerie is gone. You haven’t killed her, you see. You just paralyzed her. That’s what Medusa venom does. It paralyzes the prey. I’ll kill her in front of the assembled witches so they can all see that I was always stronger than she is. That I was always meant to rule.”
“You…” Why was speaking so hard? “Spell…”
“Oh, right. Of course, I put a love spell on you. How else would I have gotten you to do my bidding? You were drunk one night, hanging out at some human bar in Vegas. The alcohol made you easy pickings.”
“Hurry up, Genevieve,” Devon urged.
She gave Elliott an encouraging nod. “Make sure the shifter king stays dead. And you know what? You won’t get me because, well, I’m not really into the whole beast thing, but I’ll let you keep the shifter kingdom. How about that? We’ll both win.”
She was lying.
She was also leaving him. Trapped in the cell. With witch guards watching him. Witch guards who were probably armed with silver bullets. If Griffin came back and Elliott didn’t shoot him, those guards would.
They’ll shoot us both.
In moments, Genevieve was gone. Devon was gone. Valerie was—well, about to die.
Elliott shuffled back to his friend. Fell to his knees. “I’m sorry.” His hoarse whisper filled the cell. “So fucking sorry.”
Elliott lifted the gun. Pressed it to Griffin’s chest. Tried to make himself squeeze that trigger.
And then Griffin opened his eyes.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Griffin sucked in a deep breath as he felt his heart lurch. The beat became frantic and fast the instant he realized that a gun was pointed dead center at his chest.
“I’m sorry,” Elliott’s gaze was desperate. His expression shattered. “I can’t stop…she’s got me…under a spell. Didn’t freaking realize it.”
“Valerie.” Where was his witch? Where—
“Not…her. So f-fucking sorry…” The gun was shaking. “I can’t stop. Got to…break the spell. If I don’t sh-shoot, they will…” He jerked his head toward the bars.
To the guards who waited there. Witches.
But where was Valerie?
“They’re going to…kill her. I’m supposed to k-kill you.” The gun was shaking even harder now, and Griffin realized it was because Elliott was fighting himself. “I don’t want to kill you.” His voice was barely a whisper. “I sure as shit never w-wanted to be king. That’s…not me.”
The gun barrel pressed harder into Griffin’s chest. Blood was on the stones all around him. Griffin realized the blood was his own.
Valerie had brought him back. The only explanation. That meant she’d made herself weak. He had to get to her.
“Help me,” Elliott pleaded. “I can’t st-stop. Don’t know what…what to do…bullet always finds its t-target—”
In that case…Griffin lunged up. In one move, he ripped the gun right out of Elliott’s hand. The guards rushed toward the cell. He fired.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
“You’re right,” Griffin studied the guards who had hit the floor. “The bullets did find their targets.”
Elliott grabbed the weapon, only instead of trying to pull it out of Griffin’s hand, Elliott pushed it against his own chest. “Kill me. I-I can’t fight her spell. Won’t stop. Kill—”
Griffin slammed the gun into the side of Elliott’s head. When that didn’t knock the guy out, he just pounded Elliott with his fists until the shifter was unconscious. “I’ll deal with you later.”
Power pulsed through Griffin’s body. More power than he’d ever felt before in his entire life. He smashed the gun in his bare hand, turning it into dust even as his dragon’s wings burst from his back.
Bigger, stronger than before.
He hadn’t just come back from the dead. Valerie had made him even…better.
Gods, he loved his witch.
“I’m coming, baby.” He looked above him. The gaping hole he’d created before was still there. He shot straight up. He’d find his mate. He’d save her. And he’d kill the ones who’d made the mistake of fighting against her.
Nothing would come between him and his mate.
You own my heart.
Nothing.
***
“Valerie Storm is guilty, and she must die!”
Valerie stared at the mob around her. A mob of witches. Really, how fair was that? Hadn’t they learned any lessons over time? They’d once been chased by mobs—more than once—and now they were all eagerly chanting for her death?
They’d regret that choice when she ruled them all.
“Tie her to the post!” Genevieve blasted as she stood in front of Valerie. “Tight! The fire will judge her!”
No, it wouldn’t. Genevieve was going to be in for a really harsh surprise there. The fire wouldn’t do a damn thing.
Devon stood to the side, watching all of this and looking all grim and subdued.
He was such a good actor. Unfortunately for him, that jackass was gonna be dying soon. Hadn’t she promised him that he’d die before sunrise? The sun hadn’t come up, not yet.
A raven let out a loud cry.
If she could have, Valerie would have smiled. But a smile wasn’t allowed. Not then. No movement at all was allowed.
“She’s one of us!” The faint cry came from the crowd. And it was a familiar voice. One she knew so well. Yet Valerie couldn’t turn her head to look for the witch. “Why does she burn?” the witch demanded.
Fury flashed in Genevieve’s eyes. “Bring out the witness!”
Ooh, a witness? Now this was just getting even better.
Wind blew against Valerie’s skin. She would have shivered but—can’t. Maybe she should have felt afraid right then, but she didn’t. She’d worked her magic on Griffin. She knew that she had. And any minute, she expected to see him rushing to her rescue.
She’d let him save her. Just this once. It would be good for his self-esteem.
Genevieve leaned toward her. “I see hope in your eyes. You think the dragon is coming for you? Think the hell again. I left Elliott with him. Elliott, by the way, is under my love spell. You might not have felt like working that particular charm, but I’ve always found it beneficial. He’ll do anything I say.” Her voice carried only to Valerie. “And I told him to stay in that cell. If Griffin so much as twitches, Elliott will put a bullet in his heart.” Genevieve leaned back. All satisfied and smirky. “Oh, sorry, are you crying?”
A tear had slipped down her cheek.
“I don’t see any witness!” the witch from the crowd called out. “We shouldn’t burn our own! That’s not—”
“Here’s the witness!” Devon’s voice boomed. Devon approached Valerie, with a male at his side. She couldn’t turn her head to view the male but something about his scent was striking a chord in her memory.
Something—
The male moved in front of her. Glared. Glared at her with bright, blue eyes. Bright eyes. Dark, chestnut hair. A face that hadn’t aged at all, even though centuries had passed since she’d last seen…Tomas.
“The witch cursed me!” Tomas yelled. His gaze blazed. “I was a human, but she turned me into a monster. I don’t age! I don’t die!”
Really? He was bitching because he’d somehow gotten immortality? She didn’t remember giving him that particular bonus. If she hadn’t given it to him, then someone else had. Her money was on Genevieve.
“I burned you once,” Tomas told her as he jerked a torch from Devon’s hands. “And I’ll do it again.” He lunged toward Valerie and shoved the torch against her shirt. It caught fire quickly, burning and—
More wind whipped against her. Fierce, angry wind. Wind that knocked that little flicker of fire right out. She heard a roar. Such a powerful, unearthly cry, and then angry balls of flame were shooting down from the sky. Red and orange flames that didn’t come at her, but instead were directed at the enemies who’d wanted her dead.
“He’s alive?” Genevieve ducked for cover. Cover that she took by hiding behind Valerie’s body. “Kill the dragon! Kill him!”
Dragons weren’t easy to kill.
Tomas hadn’t jumped for cover. He stared at Valerie with eyes that glittered with hate. “You showed me magic. Then you went away.” He still had the torch in his hands. Tomas bared his teeth at her, and Valerie saw that he now sported fangs.
Well, that explains the immortality. Only he was blaming her for something she’d never done. She hadn’t made him into a vamp. That particular sin couldn’t be placed at her door.
A knife pressed to Valerie’s throat. “Shift, Griffin Bastien!” Genevieve screamed. “Shift back to human form or I will cut her throat. The blade is magic. She will die.”
The dragon flew to the ground and landed with enough force to shake the land. Then he began to transform.
“Attack him!” Genevieve yelled. “Kill the dragon—kill Griffin!”
Devon, of course, scrambled to do her bidding.
“And, you,” Genevieve hissed in Valerie’s ear, “you are—”
“Now!” Valerie bellowed as she stopped pretending.
Pretending to be paralyzed because of the venom.
Pretending to be helpless.
Valerie ripped through the ropes that bound her. She twisted he
r body and swiped the knife right out of Genevieve’s hands.
“You…you’re paralyzed!” Genevieve gasped.
“Of course, I’m not. I’m just a damn good actress.” Valerie jerked her head toward the tall, tattooed man who’d snuck up behind Genevieve. “Medusa.” That code word never got old.
Before Genevieve could turn to see her attacker, a snake sank its fangs into her throat.
She fell, her body as hard as stone.
“I’ll deal with you soon enough.” Valerie smiled down at her foe and—
Fangs sank into Valerie’s throat. Not the fangs from a snake, but from a vamp. Tomas had bitten her. He savaged her neck, and she drove the knife back into his stomach. She stabbed him once, twice…
Tomas let her go.
He stumbled back, her blood dripping from his mouth. Horror widened his eyes.
Dizziness swept through her. “Bad move, Tomas. Very, very bad.” Dammit, his bite was making her even weaker. She couldn’t afford more weakness. She had to bluff her way through this shit. Bluff it when she felt human.
Tomas fell. His body jerked and shuddered.
He hadn’t taken enough of her blood to die, not yet. But—
“Valerie!”
Her head whipped up. Griffin was there. Naked, sexy Griffin. He’d transformed from his dragon, and he was rushing toward her. As he shoved the crowd out of his way, Valerie caught sight of a familiar witch.
Calliope.
Calliope had been the one heckling Genevieve. As soon as she’d heard her friend’s voice, Valerie had known there was still hope.
Calliope clapped her hands and clothing appeared on Griffin’s body. A few foolish witches tried to attack him, but Carmichael lunged forward—Carmichael and Warren. They’d both been hiding in the crowd. They fought with claws and fangs, using their brute strength against magic.
The witches weren’t used to fighting shifters and when the witches started to bleed, they also started to run.
“No!” Devon’s guttural yell. One that echoed over the chaos. “You don’t get to escape again.”
Devon lunged toward Valerie. He’d grabbed the knife she’d used on Tomas. Valerie didn’t even remember dropping it because so much shit had been going down. But he shoved toward her, and he plunged the knife into her chest. “You don’t get to be happy with your shifter. You don’t get to take away everything I’ve built.”