by Alisa Woods
Jak felt hands on him, urging him to turn, to lie down. His body was starting to cramp up so he couldn’t resist them. His vision was blurred, white stars shooting across it from the rippling pain that was tearing him apart from the inside out. He blinked so he could see the faces hovering over him.
It was Arianna. Beautiful Arianna, her face all squished up and worried for him. Tears raced down her cheeks, but he couldn’t uncramp his hands to brush them away. Her lips were moving. She was saying something. But sounds seemed to come and go like he was moving through a tunnel and cars were speeding past him, taking their blaring horns and near-misses with them. He tried to focus past the blinding pain. Tried to hear the things she was saying.
Somewhere in the background, Sarra was cursing like a sailor. It would have made him smile, except his face was frozen in a grimace. He strained to shut out the background and just focus on Arianna’s shining face above him. Her beautiful, brilliant blue eyes. If that was the last thing he saw in this world, it would be okay. It would be enough.
Her words leaked through the shrieking pain inside his head. “Jak… Jak… stay with me… please…”
He licked his lips. So dry, they cracked. It was such a small pain on top of the large one singing through his body—two wolves locked in a death dance at the DNA level. He tried to speak, but it was only whooshes of air, no sound. Just grunts… and he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to get those last words out… the ones he wanted to say, but couldn’t. Not until the very end.
He concentrated everything he had on forming words. He thought of Arianna’s sweet hands, now on his face, holding his cheeks. Her tears dripping on him. And somehow he managed to get his lips to cooperate and make sound.
“You,” he gasped, speaking it just for her. The one word felt like a triumph. He pushed for more. “You… are meant… for someone better than me.” The words laced through the gasps, but he heard them. He hoped she could hear them too.
Her eyes went wide with alarm. And he knew that she knew at that moment. Knew that this wasn’t something he was coming back from.
“No, no, no,” she said, over and over.
But he wasn’t finished.
“I’m just…” he gasped out, and she stopped her tirade, bending low, placing her cheek against his, wetting him with her tears and bringing her ear close enough for his whispers to reach her. “I’m just… the one who… set you free.”
He heard her gasp. He saw her pull back, but the sounds were gone again. Everything was dimming… the bright morning sunshine of Seattle was darkening like an eclipse had turned everything into the blood red of sunset. Then darker still. A creeping blackness.
The sludge inside him was waning too. All of it was fading.
The last thing he saw was a single tear clinging to the edge of Arianna’s sweet cheek. It clung, holding on to the bitter end.
Then it fell.
He wished he had the strength for one more kiss.
Then the world faded completely to black.
Chapter Twenty-Six
”I’m just… the one who… set you free.” Jak’s words, broken by gasps of pain, whispered in Arianna’s ear. Her tears were already sliding down her cheek, which was pressed against his so she could hear his achingly soft voice.
But his words… those were the words of a dying man.
She yanked back, the breath stolen right out of her body. No. No, no, no. She couldn’t tell if her words were in her head or coming out of her mouth, but a horrible chill invaded her body, shooting icicles of death through her heart: this spell was killing him.
“Jak!” She clasped his face in her hands, still wet from her tears. “Jak, you can’t leave me. You can’t.” She was babbling, and tears were streaming down her face, clinging to the edge then falling down to his cheek, but none of it was stopping his eyes from glazing over. None of it kept his face from going slack in her hands as his eyes drifted closed.
“Nooo!” she screamed. Hands were on her, strong hands, lifting her up and away from Jak, whose face went still as soon as she lost her frantic hold on him.
“No!” Arianna fought to stand on her own unsteady legs and wrenched herself from the hands holding her. They belonged to her brother Marco, whose face was twisted in pain as well, but it was the emotional kind: the kind where he was already trying to comfort her for Jak’s death while his body was still warm on the floor.
No. He couldn’t die. She refused to let that happen.
She whipped around to Circe, the witch who had cast this godforsaken spell, tearing Mace’s wolf magic from Arianna’s body and putting it into Jak’s. Circe had to know it would kill him. And the look on her face—sorrow laced with guilt—there was no question she knew.
Raging against a witch might be one of the stupidest things Arianna had ever done, but she didn’t care. In fact, she barely gave it a thought as she lurched toward Circe.
“Stop it!” Arianna demanded, halting just short of grabbing hold of Circe’s shoulders and shaking her. “Stop the spell. You’re killing him!”
Circe frowned, and her expression was filled with pity, but she didn’t move a muscle, just flitted a look around the barren concrete-and-girder construction site she had picked as a good place for Jak to die. Then she glanced at Marco, who had come up behind Arianna. He put a hand on her shoulder, which she batted away. Her brothers had to be in on this, too—a quick glance at her younger brother Kalis showed his face heavy with guilt as well. Only Sarra was frothing at the mouth, kicking the concrete flooring and swearing up a storm, the same rage animating her that was boiling inside of Arianna. Her fists curled up, and she felt like she might explode.
“Ari, he wanted it this way,” Marco said softly.
“No!” It was a guttural thing wrenched from deep inside her. Arianna swung back to the witch, leaning in until she was practically nose-to-nose with her. “You do whatever dark art you have to do, but you save him. Or I swear to god, I will make you pay for this.” Her lips trembled with fury. What could she do to force a witch to undo her black magic?
Circe seemed unconcerned with Arianna’s threat. If anything, she looked at Arianna with even more pity. She glanced at Jak’s form on the floor. Arianna could barely look at his motionless body without losing it altogether, so she kept her glare on Circe’s face, willing her to change her mind and withdraw this horrible spell.
Circe faced her again, her expression full of compassion. “The wolves inside him are almost finished with their battle. When they have destroyed each other, they will have destroyed Jak’s body in the process. There’s nothing that can stop that now.”
“There has to be!” Arianna refused to believe it was hopeless. “Stop the wolves from fighting. Reverse the spell before they destroy him. Then his normal shifter healing can bring him back.” She forced herself to look at Jak… he was nearly as pale as death already. “Pull Mace’s wolf out of him and put it back in me.” A shudder ran through her with that thought, but she would rather have that than let Jak die for her.
“You’re no longer mated to Mace,” Circe said softly, a hand landing like a small bird on Arianna’s shoulder. “And an unmated female is the only thing that could draw Mace’s wolf out of Jak’s body at this point, given the death battle they’re engaged in… but I will not undo the spell.”
Arianna’s whole body quivered with the need to make this happen. “Please.” It was a whisper. She would fall on her knees and beg if she had to. “Please don’t let him die.”
“He’s given his life to free you, Arianna,” Circe said gently. “I will not undo such a precious and costly gift.”
Arianna’s vision blurred with a fresh round of tears that felt like they might drown her. This couldn’t happen. She couldn’t let this happen. She held her breath, hoping against hope that something, some thought, some idea, would suddenly materialize and give her something to cling to, some way to save Jak. She didn’t notice Sarra raging up to Circe until she shoved her way in between
Arianna and the witch and glared up into Circe’s face.
“What did you just say?” Sarra demanded.
Circe cocked an eyebrow like she thought Sarra was slightly insane. “Jak is giving his life for—”
“No,” Sarra cut her off, her voice low and intense. “The other part. About the unmated female.”
Hope surged in Arianna’s heart. What was Sarra saying? Would she… ? Arianna swiped her eyes clear of tears. “Sarra—”
She held up a hand, practically shoving it in Arianna’s face. “Let the witch talk.”
Circe was frowning and shooting uncertain looks between Arianna and Sarra. “Mace’s wolf is mourning the loss of its mate. The wolves in Jak’s blood are pure magic, but Mace’s wolf also carries his essence—an essence that was forcibly torn from its female half and which would be drawn instantly back again to any unmated female if…” Circe tipped her head to Arianna. “If I were to allow a conduit between them. Which I will not.”
Arianna’s heart thudded in her chest. She knew where Sarra was going with this. “Sarra, you can’t—”
“Shut it.” But Sarra’s voice was quivering as much as Arianna’s. She kept her focus on Circe. “Arianna’s not the only unmated female here.” Her words were slow and grave and steeped in a kind of iron-will that didn’t surprise Arianna in the slightest. “Can you do it? Can you draw Mace’s wolf into me before it kills Jak?”
Circe’s perfectly manicured eyebrows hiked higher with each slow word from Sarra. “It can be done. But you would be unable to mate with any other wolf. Ever.”
Sarra twisted up one side of her mouth in a smirk. “It’s been that way for a while.” Then she visibly swallowed. “Would I be his mate? The asshole. The one Jak rescued her from?”
Arianna’s heart sank. She couldn’t wish that on anyone… but at the same time, it was the only thing that might save Jak’s life. And if Circe wouldn’t do it for Arianna, but she would do it for Sarra… could Arianna say no to that? Should she? Her heart was tearing into pieces with this.
Circe frowned. Then she brushed past Sarra and Arianna and strode over to where Jak lay as still as a stone on the floor. The witch passed her hands over his head as if sensing something in the air all around him.
“His aura is extremely weak, but I can still feel it.” She peered back over her shoulder at them. “The wolves are likewise near death. If you were to draw out Mace’s wolf now, I do not think it would be enough to fully mate with your inner wolf, Sarra. It would depend on how strong the two halves are, male and female. The mating is a pairing of like with like.” She bit her lip and frowned. “I’m honestly not sure what would happen. But if we’re going to do anything, we’ll have to work quickly. It may already be too late.”
Sarra dashed over, plucked a hair out of her head, and offered it to Circe. “Then you better get busy.”
Circe twirled her fingers in the air. The hair in Sarra’s hand magically jumped into the witch’s hand. Then she fluttered the fingers in her other hand, ruffling a magical wind through Jak’s hair that liberated a strand of his. She quickly mashed them together and recreated the grayish, sparking spell-cloud she used on Arianna and Jak.
Arianna lurched forward, taking Sarra by the elbow and turning her. “Are you sure about this? If Mace doesn’t feel the mating bond break, if he keeps coming after me…” She swallowed. How could she allow any other woman to fall back into the trap she had with Mace? When she knew full well how awful that life was?
Marco came up to Sarra’s other side, taking her other elbow gently in his hand. Sarra gave him a quizzical look but didn’t pull away. Arianna could feel her shake, and it was likely that she and Marco were the only things keeping Sarra’s knees from buckling.
Marco dipped his head to peer into Sarra’s eyes. “If Mace comes after you, he’s going to have to go through me first.” He nodded to Jak. “I imagine you’ll have more than one wolf wanting to take a bite out of him before he can get anywhere near you.”
Sarra quivered a bit, then sucked in a breath and let it out slow. Marco strengthened his hold on Sarra’s arm, and Arianna could tell it was helping. Still… she was horribly uncertain about letting Sarra take the risk, but if it could save Jak… Arianna couldn’t blame her for wanting to. She would do it herself in a heartbeat if the witch let her.
Circe smashed her hands together and blew the cloud of grayish spell on Sarra’s face and then Jak’s. Sarra stiffened, and Arianna and Marco both edged closer, making sure she was supported. Arianna’s stomach writhed as she watched Sarra’s face: eyes squeezed shut, mouth set in a grim line, small flinches as the spell took hold. Arianna knew exactly what she was feeling: the slow drip of blackness that was Mace’s wolf, creeping into her body. Into her soul. The moment Arianna had been liberated from Mace’s wolf had been the most glorious, heart-lifting moment of her life… until she saw Jak writhing on the floor because of it. And now Sarra was taking back what Arianna had finally worked free of… only diluted, weakened maybe. Less by some measure.
Still… Arianna felt the guilt of that weighing down her heart.
But all of that was forgotten when Jak sucked in a breath, his pale face springing to life. He moaned, eyes still shut… and then even that small sign of life faded. Sarra rocked back, away from Jak. When she sagged, Marco caught her. Her eyes were still closed.
But it was the return of lifelessness to Jak’s face that riveted Arianna’s attention. “Circe?” Her voice was hushed, more of a gasp than a question.
The witch scowled, her hands floating again around Jak’s head. “He’s too weak. Mace’s wolf is gone, but there’s hardly any magic left in Jak’s blood.” Circe whipped her head to Arianna. “Do you want to save him?”
“Yes!” Arianna cried and dropped to her knees next to Circe and Jak’s body. “Just tell me what to do.”
“He needs blood. Magical blood. A lot of it.”
Arianna thrust both wrists, upturned, toward the witch. “Take it.”
“I’ll only take the magic,” she said quickly. “But it will be painful, Arianna.”
“Hurry!” she said, tears springing to life again.
Circe clamped one hand around Arianna’s wrist and the other around Jak’s.
Then the world turned to white-hot pain. Arianna’s vision blanked out, but she felt her body jerk back, falling to the concrete floor next to Jak’s until she was lying prone next to him, still tethered to Circe by the iron-clad grip she had on her wrist. Before, cleaving Mace’s magic out of her blood had felt like a twisting pile of snakes worming their way throughout her body… this bleeding of her magic into Jak felt like her soul was literally being torn in two. Save Jak. Save Jak. Save Jak. She focused on the words like they were a mantra, clamping her teeth against the scream that wanted to wrench loose and trying to breathe through the pain, even as her back arched up from the concrete with it.
Suddenly it was gone, along with Circe’s hold on her wrist. Arianna’s body slumped back to the ground, and the chill of the concrete floor seeped into her fevered skin. She blinked away the black spots swimming in front of her eyes, but the pain was completely gone now. Echoes of it still shuddered her body, and she was still gasping from it, but she ordered her body to obey her commands and roll over so she could see Jak.
He was stirring to life again. This time his face was twisted up as he fought through something, his eyes still closed. Arianna held back tears as she edged closer to him. She didn’t know if he was in pain, or if he was just struggling to come back from the near-death precipice he had been hanging over. Arianna laid a hand on his chest, but he didn’t seem to notice, still moaning and grimacing and shaking his head back and forth, like he was fighting something inside. Was there still some trace of Mace in his blood? She could feel Jak’s heart beating under her hand, and he was obviously alive. What was happening?
Circe was still hovering over him, her hands held out as if in benediction, but clearly doing something very different: reading
his aura? She mentioned it before.
“Does he need more?” Arianna asked her. “I can give him more.” The truth was she felt light-headed from the pain, but also weaker in another way… she wasn’t sure how much of her magic the witch had transferred to Jak, but her hands trembled against Jak’s chest as she held him. But whatever she had, she would give him.
“You can’t spare any more,” Circe said without looking at her. “And this should be enough. The question is whether his body will reject your magic… or if it will be enough to spur his blood to regenerate and rebuild his own magical supply.”
Arianna hadn’t thought of it that way: that her magic was different than Jak’s. Unique to her. In a way, they were now mated, only in the most unusual way possible: her magic in his blood, instead of the other way around. It was amazing and beautiful to be joined to him this way… as long as his blood accepted her.
“How long until we know?” Arianna asked, her heart squeezing. She knew it was his magic and not him. She knew that Jak would never reject her, but his wolf… his inner magic… she didn’t know.
“Very soon,” Circe said, her face still grim with concentration, her hands still slowly stroking the air around Jak’s head. “He was very near death, Arianna. If he rejects your magic, he will…” She stopped and glanced at Arianna. “We will know soon.”
Arianna gritted her teeth to hold back her tears. Then she scooted closer to Jak, lying along the length of his body on the cold concrete floor. She ever-so-gently rested her head on his shoulder, her hand gripping his chest, her lips close to his ear. Her nearness seemed to calm some of his silent struggling, and his body stilled. She fought against the tears and the thought that maybe his body was growing quieter because she was losing him.