The Final Calling

by Angela Colsin

  She could scarcely believe it, but this was the same guy—and damn, he looked much better as a living, breathing man instead of a rotting husk.

  Realizing she'd just gotten her memories back, he smirked. “Yeah, that's me.” Leaning in until their lips were only a breath apart, he added on a tone of voice so deep she thought she'd get lost in it, “And I'm looking forward to thanking you so hard you pass out. Again and again.”

  Edith's throat went dry with no comeback available. Her experience with men was best summed up by the word zilch, and the innuendo of his statement left her too dumbfounded to think for several moments.

  But it seemed Isaac was operating on all cylinders, taking that opportunity to kiss her again, and much more passionately this time, as if offering a promise of things to come.

  Impulsively, she grabbed him, but couldn't figure out whether to push, pull, or nuke the guy with a burst of magic. All she could think was that she'd never been kissed so intensely, and her hesitation stayed her hand long enough for Isaac to let a low growl into her mouth.

  It was a virile sound no normal man could've made—and damned if it didn't excite her, melting away whatever logical reasoning she had left until curious instinct was all that remained.

  His tongue boldly pushed into her mouth, skillfully stroking, and Edith instinctively responded in kind, so dazed by his attention that the thought of resisting temptation never entered her mind. He was kissing her like he'd die without experiencing such an embrace at least once, sending shivers over her entire body.

  Their tongues met, her fingers digging into his shirt, earning another deep growl as his thick arms wound tightly around her—possessively.

  She never once imagined having such a sexy first kiss with any man, particularly one she barely knew. But just as abruptly as it started, he suddenly drew back with the confusing words, “Need to give you my oath.”

  Oath? Edith had no idea what he was talking about, or why he wanted to promise her anything. Still, it served as clear evidence that things had gotten out of hand—and she was going to make certain it didn't happen again.

  Four

  • • •

  Isaac had barely known his mate for five minutes, but already wanted an eternity to learn all there was to know about Edith Walsh.

  Seeing her in the flesh and finally recognizing her as his was like sparking a powder keg. After two and a half years of yearning and dreaming, she was here in the flesh, right against him, and he couldn't stop himself from stealing kisses and holding her as close as possible. Waited so damned long.

  And fuck if Charlotte's limited selection of pictures did Edith justice, particularly with the sexy sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose and cheeks. Her face was framed by fiery ginger hair hanging down to her lower back in straight locks, and her mint green eyes were wide and expressive.

  But Isaac's favorite feature were those round, soft lips with a slight pout, lips he'd barely been able to tear himself away from.

  Still, he needed to avow himself. Such was an old practice among Perosian mates, a custom he'd actually planned to forgo altogether, unconcerned about keeping with tradition. Besides, he couldn't remember Perosia anyway.

  But seeing her now, feeling her small hands digging into his shirt as she'd whimpered into his mouth, Isaac wanted any and all ties he could forge.

  So, pulling his pocketknife from his jeans, he flipped the blade out and placed the handle in her palm. Edith looked extremely confused, and while he didn't like keeping her so uninformed, he directed, “Draw my blood.”

  “I … what?” she stammered. “Draw your blood? Why?”

  “I need to give you my oath.”

  “What oath?”

  “My vow to protect and cherish you. I'm your knight, remember?” he grinned.

  At that, Edith shook her head and ducked beneath his arm, tossing his knife away while exclaiming, “No way! I'm not cutting you so you can take some weird oath. You don't owe me anything for breaking that curse, and I don't want you protecting me.”

  “This has nothing to do with breaking the curse.”

  “Then explain it,” she shot back, crossing her arms over her chest as if simply allowing him enough time to do just that before she'd end this.

  Good luck with that, Isaac thought, grinning as he sauntered in closer.

  To her credit, Edith didn't back away, and coming within inches of touching her, he explained, “Putting it simply, you're my mate. Not so simply, I've dreamed of you constantly for the past two and a half years, and it's driven me to want you so damned bad I haven't been able to eat, sleep, or fuck.”

  In retrospect, he was now grateful he could never see her in those dreams despite how much he'd longed for even a glimpse. Edith was so damned gorgeous he could barely tear his gaze away, absorbing every detail, from the fairness of her skin to her short stature and curvy frame.

  She was perfect, and seeing her in the flesh would've only made the wait for her return even harder.

  But in hearing his claim, Edith's jaw dropped and her cheeks turned red, immediately reminding Isaac that she was inexperienced—at least intimately.

  Yet he didn't retract his statements, and merely added to them, “Just being honest.”

  “I am not your mate!”

  Isaac groaned at her denial, retorting, “You actually are. I'd know your voice anywhere now that I've heard it out loud.”

  “My voice?”

  “Yeah, your sexy southern accent. My favorite thing was hearing you moaning my name in my dreams. Gets me hard every time I think about it.” He glanced down and nodded, “Like now.”

  “Oh god!” she exclaimed, throwing up her hands and walking away. “Okay, I'm leaving, and you can go back to whatever hole you crawled out of as well.”

  “Not likely, we—,” Isaac started, but was cut off when Edith aimed a hand at him with a burst of energy erupting from her palm.

  The magical blast slammed into his torso, knocking him so far backwards that he hit the wall—and dented it.

  Grunting, Isaac fell to the floor, shaking his head before looking at the spot where his mate once stood with the intention of complimenting her on the power in that blast.

  But she was gone.

  Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself up and dusted his clothing off just as he heard, “I told you she's accomplished.”

  “Chandra,” Isaac muttered, turning to face the sorceress who was now casually leaning against the bed post. “How long have you been here?”

  Inspecting her nails, she replied casually, “The whole time, and you really don't know how to woo your female, do you?”

  “I'm not trying to woo her. Not yet, anyway.”

  “That much is obvious. But allow me to let you in on a little secret.”

  He waved his hand as if to say I'm waiting.

  “Edith is modest, but if you upset her, she won't hesitate to make sure you know it.” Thoughtfully gazing off to the side, she added, “It's one of the reasons I like her.”

  “Good, I like being direct.”

  As if Chandra knew as much, she smirked and stood straight, staff in hand. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to find her and apologize for not informing her of your motivations. I didn't want to scare her off of her Calling completely.”

  “You know where she went?”

  “There's only one logical place she could've gone, and you'll figure it out if you think about it long enough.”

  Naturally, Chandra didn't offer anymore than that, and disappeared from sight.

  Grumbling, Isaac considered it while grabbing his pocketknife from the floor, and surely enough, the answer came quickly.

  Charlotte.

  Edith had gone to see her best friend in the Cayman Islands. It was too far away for Isaac to reach in a single teleport because of his mute, but it didn't matter. Charlotte and Ulric would keep Edith safe, leaving him plenty of time to stop by one of his storage units and pick up a few things.
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br />   Besides, it wasn't as if Chandra would arrive first and paint him in a bad light. She'd say such a thing was pointless when he'd do the job for her.

  • • •

  Whatever irritation Isaac had caused was forgotten the moment Edith laid eyes on Charlotte's new home.

  After teleporting from her apartment, she arrived on a gravel path surrounded by lush foliage and palm trees. Ocean waves crashed softly in the distance and the moon shined brightly above. Before her was an open gate leading into the yard of the manor where a few peacocks were slowly marching by.

  Edith found herself too distracted by the exotic animals to go directly to the door of the gorgeous abode that looked more like a small resort than a residence.

  But as it turned out, she didn't have to.

  “Edith!” Charlotte called from the porch, and the mage looked up to spy her best friend rushing toward the steps.

  Grinning, she ran over to meet her halfway where they embraced in a tight hug—then wasted no time excitedly chatting about how much there was to catch up on.

  “I can't wait to hear about Mystikkar,” Charlotte mentioned. “Ulric's told me some things, and it sounds impressive.”

  “Yeah, impressive's one way to put it, kinda like your home,” Edith grinned, looking the place over. “So when can I move in?”

  The fae laughed. “Don't you want to check the inside first?”

  “Don't think I'll need to,” she replied, her gaze anywhere but on her feet as Charlotte took her inside—and it was just as lavish as she'd suspected.

  Knowing Charlotte as well as she did, it was easy to pick out which decorations were hers, and what had been Ulric's idea. But though they had different tastes, the styles meshed extremely well, giving the home an inviting atmosphere while maintaining a sense of class.

  “This place is so badass. You guys have really put some work into it.”

  “It's still not finished, but it's livable now,” Charlotte qualified, then gave a questioning look. “By the way, what took you so long? I thought you'd just be a minute.”

  “Oh,” Edith muttered, hesitating over explaining what happened in her apartment, and the fae took notice.

  “Is something wrong?”

  They'd just adjourned to the game room where Edith was too distracted by the fact that her best friend had a bowling alley in her home to immediately respond. But she tore her attention away from it with a dejected sigh.

  “I'm not sure, actually. It's just … okay, after we hung up, I was attacked in my apartment.”

  “Attacked? By who?”

  Edith waved it away, promising, “I'll explain that part in a minute, and don't worry, I'm fine. Someone you know intervened before anything happened, and I'm not sure what to think of the things he said.” Or did.

  Suspiciously, the confusion on Charlotte's face turned to enlightenment. “Let me guess. Isaac.”

  Edith quirked a brow. “That's too accurate for a guess.”

  “Okay, it wasn't a guess,” Charlotte admitted, taking a seat at the bar. “What did he say?”

  “He said I'm his mate, on top of other things.”

  “Other things?”

  “Uh huh,” Edith drew out blandly. “Let's just say he's been having erotic dreams about me, and wasn't ashamed to admit it. In detail.”

  As if such behavior was completely normal for the demon, Charlotte groaned and rubbed her eyes, leaving Edith wondering what, exactly, her friend might tell her about him. But their conversation was momentarily interrupted when Ulric entered the room.

  “Hey, did I hear Edi—oh, guess I did.”

  Charlotte grinned, leaning up to give him a kiss before she mentioned, “Yep, and guess who she just met.”

  Looking between them curiously, Ulric drew out, “I see.”

  Perturbed by his response, Edith asked without pause, “Okay, how bad is this guy? I mean really?”

  Using Ulric's nickname, Charlotte returned, “Ask Yules, he knows Isaac better than I do.”

  Ulric shrugged. “Maybe you should explain everything that's happened first.”

  Without hesitation, Edith did just that, starting with the attack, and Ulric listened patiently. But by the time she reached the end of the story, he was pinching the bridge of his nose.

  “Yeah, that's Isaac.”

  Edith had no idea what to think. “So should I be worried?”

  “Not really,” he began, lifting his head to add, “Isaac would never hurt you, that I can promise. He's just … tactless and impatient.”

  “Crude,” Charlotte supplied.

  “But loyal,” Ulric countered.

  Charlotte conceded the point with a nod, and Edith groaned. None of their talk sounded completely promising, but just before she made up her mind to avoid the demon at all costs, a third voice qualified, “He's also on his way here.”

  Edith looked to see her mentor standing in the doorway. “Chandra, why didn't you tell me?”

  “That you're his mate? I thought to spare you as much heartache as I could for as long as possible.”

  “Guess I should thank you, but a little warning would've been nice.”

  “I told you a demon would be hounding you. But I'd like to speak in private if you don't mind.”

  Edith certainly didn't, joining the sorceress in a study located down the hall to hear what she had to say.

  After the door shut, she turned to Chandra and stated, “Okay, it sounds like there's a ton of stuff you've kept secret since I started training. So what gives?”

  Without missing a beat, Chandra explained rationally, “I wanted you focused on your training instead of compromising your attention with inconsequential affairs.”

  “Inconsequential?” Edith echoed disbelievingly. “Assassins wanna kill me, and Isaac says I'm his mate. How is that inconsequential?”

  Quirking a slender brow over one of her piercing, silver eyes, the sorceress inquired in turn, “What is it that matters most to you now, Edith?”

  She didn't have to think about her answer. “Completing the Final Calling.”

  “And that's why everything else is of no consequence. Your training is the most valuable tool you could have in completing it, and there was no amount of knowledge I could've offered about assassins or tactless, enamored demons that would've prepared you any better for dealing with them.”

  Edith exhaled a deep, pent up breath, realizing Chandra was right—and hadn't they already discussed this same basic thing in Mystikkar after she'd accepted her Calling?

  At this rate, her own lingering doubts would kill her faster than any assassin.

  The thought was dismaying, but despite it, Edith knew one thing for certain; being told of the assassins before accepting the Final Calling wouldn't have ultimately changed her mind. She wanted the life of a mage, to achieve the status of enchantress, not to prove anything to herself or anyone else, but just because it felt right.

  So living her life in Mystikkar cowering behind its massive walls simply wouldn't do. Chandra had kept secrets to enable her pupil to focus her complete attention on her studies rather than worrying about what to do when the time came, and Edith was grateful.

  Now it was just a matter of putting that training to good use.

  So she pushed her worries away and replied, “Okay, so tell me about Isaac then. Did he recognize me when I broke his curse or something?”

  “Not precisely,” Chandra qualified. “He was too weak to know what you were then, but your apprentice sigil tipped him off.”

  Edith thought about the intricate, triangular sigil Chandra had placed on her shoulder which had disappeared after drinking from the Well. All apprentices carried such a mark, but she had no idea why it would've told Isaac she was his mate, asking, “How?”

  “It has to do with the prophecy I mentioned. You recall the tyrant you're supposed to usurp, correct?”

  Edith nodded.

  “The rest of the prediction states that in doing so, you'll reestablish a las
ting peace between Mystikkar and Perosia through your matehood with a royal heir. And before you ask, yes, Isaac would be that heir.”

  Edith stared at Chandra with her jaw agape. Usurping tyrants and forging alliances was one thing, but Isaac being the heir to a throne?

  Incredulously, she asked, “Isaac's royalty?”

  “Not technically after his expulsion from Perosia. But that's how he knew about you.”

  Edith groaned, walking over to the desk where she took a seat and released a low sigh. “So what do I do? Should I even try keeping this guy away? He could end up affecting the success of my Calling.”

  “You know I can't answer that,” Chandra pointed out, reminding Edith that this was her test, and she was going at it solo.

  Still, her mentor did offer some advice in a roundabout way. “But I would've been able to use a powerful ally during my own Calling.”

  Edith narrowed her brows. “A powerful ally?”

  “Oh yes. Isaac happens to be nicely endowed where strength is concerned, and even better, he's ruthless with his enemies. I suppose one might say his virtues make up for his shortcomings.”

  His strength had certainly been obvious during the fight in her apartment. So Edith considered it, asking, “And how well do you know Isaac?”

  “Well enough, but I won't spoil it. I'm certain if you asked him anything, and I do mean anything, he'd answer without qualm.”

  Edith didn't doubt it. With the way Isaac spoke to her earlier, she couldn't imagine broaching a subject he wouldn't discuss openly—especially those best labeled TMI.

  “I don't know, he seems like he'd be a distraction.”

  “That's up to you to decide, of course. But I might also remind you that, in being Isaac's mate, one of his priorities would be seeing to it that you gain your immortality.”

  That … was a damned good point. Sadly, Edith wasn't sure she wanted good points, and instead, wished Chandra would tell her to evade the demon as much as possible. Even if Isaac's strength was reason enough to invite him along, he was also interested in her, and she had absolutely no experience with interested males.