Mated to the Chaos (Portal City Protectors Book 5)

by Georgette St. Clair

  Carlo blinked and looked over to where the silver-haired Queen of the Seelie Fae had flown in with Kalinda and landed them both on their feet. After she tucked in her multi-colored wings, she stood in black leather pants like second skin and a white button-up shirt, her jaw hanging to the floor. Beside her, the regal and darker-skinned Kalinda lifted one eyebrow.

  “If I just got punked into witnessing a BDSM scene, I will gut someone,” Romano’s mate cried.

  “Past?”

  The entire room froze, turning to look at Asherah, Silva’s younger sister. She couldn’t fly with wings but instead used water, like creating a wave upon which she stood as it lifted her into the air. She’d ridden one through the broken window before instantly drying everything around her.

  Silva cocked her brow. “My entrance was better, sis. But, you know, ten points for the attempt.”

  Asherah rolled her eyes.

  The newest Fae to their group had been spending a lot of time with Silva and Kalinda to get acclimated to Encantado while Heath, her Fate, worked under them—or better put, was supervised by them. Silva’s manner of dress had been impressed upon her younger sister, as they matched in getup. Asherah’s murky, ever-changing hair—reminiscent of the deep sea—swirled around her shoulders, her power seeping into the room as she looked at the woman resting comfortably on Carlo’s lap.

  Asherah’s eyes went wide in astonishment. “What are you doing here?”

  “He wouldn’t come to me, and so now …”

  His mate jerked, and a cry ripped from her as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Carlo fought harder against whatever bound him to the bed and kept him from moving.

  She was hurting.

  Mate. Look at me. Give me your eyes. Look at me!

  He may have not wanted to claim her, or been stupid enough to want to harm her, but the reality of pain, real agony coursing through her, made his wolf lose its mind. She jerked again, mewling, and he howled, unable to reach for her.

  “Help her, dammit.”

  Asherah sprang forward and wrapped her arms around his mate, whispering into her ear the sound of crashing waves on the shore.

  “Past, let it go. Let the vision finish.”

  Past? Why is she calling my woman that?

  Wait a minute … My?

  After a moment, she sagged against Asherah, blinking before she shook her head. Fuck, but the graceful slide of her hair over her shoulder was enough to make Carlo want to rip her white dress from her body and take her. Or maybe even cradle her against his chest and soothe away the pain. He swore he got whiplash from this woman every time he turned around.

  “He’s changed it.” Her voice came out shaky, a breathless quality that made him tense.

  Asherah narrowed her eyes. “The past?”

  “Yes.”

  Arturo clenched his fists at his side. “I’m going to count to ten, and someone better explain what the fuck is going on in my house!”

  “T’is is Chaos, Arturo. We can—”

  “Zahara, your place in my heart is great, but this is still my home. I want her to explain what the hell she is doing here.”

  Zahara went silent, her eyes snapping with warning at the Alpha for interrupting her.

  “It is better if I start in the past, as all things should. My name is Nanshe.”

  Asherah gasped, and Carlo noted her reaction as the woman gave her name.

  “Why was she calling you Past?”

  “Because I am the Past. I am prophecy. I have not spoken my name for many millennium, Carlo of the Moretti.”

  Nanshe. Something in the name … it roared through him. Memories of salty air and magnificent boats gilded in gold slipped into his head. A city with high walls made of sandy stone. He’d seen nothing like it.

  What the hell am I seeing?

  “The past. One you will one day understand.”

  Arturo slid his hands into his pockets. The positioning may have appeared casual, but Carlo knew he contrived it to look that way as he prepared to attack. There was no wolf more deadly than his Alpha, besides, perhaps, Carlo. “Why are you here? And why do you have my wolf pinned?”

  “Because he is mine, and my sister wants you all dead. I saw how you won it. Moments are past but now future. In the past, he came to me, as I had to do what I must, the history of life repeating over and over again. She tipped the scales.”

  Dominic growled. “Speak plainly and less in riddles.”

  Asherah cleared her throat. “If I may, Past?”

  Nanshe bowed her head in a regal move that set Carlo’s teeth on edge even as it turned him on. Queen … Goddess.

  What the fuck am I thinking?

  “Of who I am. Who I once was. The past is always what truly matters.”

  Yeah, like that made any sense.

  “You know of the Norns? The holders of Fate: Skuld, Verdandi, and Urd?” Asherah looked around, addressing everyone in the room.

  Dominic nodded. “It’s mythology.”

  Asherah shook her head. “You know now that it isn’t. Skuld is the one who kept me confined. She is the Future, seeing what shall be; Verdandi is the Present, seeing what is; and Urd is the Past, what once was.”

  “Okay,” Kalinda cocked her head and looked to Nanshe, “are you Urd or Nanshe?”

  “Both,” Nanshe replied. “I was once Nanshe, and now I am Urd. Humans marked out names with time, and so we have adopted that.” Nanshe looked down over Carlo, her ruby eyes bright. “But I didn’t want you to call me what I’d been given, but the name I’d been born with.”

  “Wait, what does that even mean?” Silva whined.

  Nanshe shook her head. “I cannot tell you more. It’s all I can give you on my past. The place of the Norns is … one of more power than you could ever understand.”

  Yes, it was Chaos.

  Dominic shifted closer, stepping a bit in front of Arturo, a gesture of protection. “Your sister wants us dead?”

  Nanshe gasped. “Did you not warn them, Asherah? Where is your Fate?”

  “I remember you!” Eiravel shouted.

  The room was getting too full now as Eiravel and Cynes stormed in and stopped just inside the doorway. Carlo was getting beyond pissed at being pinned here and not able to move. He struggled once more against the remains of his bed, but he still couldn’t move.

  “You did as you were to do, Berserker of the Unseelie.”

  Once more, all eyes swung in the same direction, this time to Eiravel. The Unseelie stepped further into the room, awe spreading over his features before he and his twin dropped to their knees.

  “We thank you for your help in the In Between.”

  Nanshe’s gaze met Carlo’s. “As I’ve only meant to help.”

  You can release me now.

  “How do you know I’m holding you?”

  Carlo lifted one brow, and a tinkle of husky laughter filtered into his head before he sat up suddenly, coming face to face with Nanshe. To keep from embracing her, he lifted her off him before standing at her side. The touch of her skin was warm silk and sent a shock through his bloodstream.

  Mine.

  “I told you.”

  She was sassier in his head—a more relaxed way of speaking, less formal than when she spoke aloud. For now, though, he wouldn’t comment on it.

  Eiravel and Cynes stood before Cynes stepped forward. “When we were trying to escape with Asherah, she helped us stop Skuld long enough to get through the portal. Without her, we may have all died.”

  “I came because Skuld is coming. She brings with her horrors unimaginable, and … I needed help. The help wouldn’t come to me.” Nanshe gazed up at Carlo. Standing, she was shorter than his towering seven feet, but she was taller than most of the women in the room.

  He wouldn’t admit how sexy that was. Or the way her warrior-like frame made his mouth water. Nanshe was not some willowy waif who’d blow away at the first powerful wind.

  Silva snorted. “Why would he have gone ther
e? He hates the Chaos Realm.”

  Nanshe shook her head. “I cannot tell you.”

  Can’t, or won’t?

  “Can’t. There are rules. I know of your hatred of Chaos, Carlo. But is nothing for you to fear.”

  He ignored that. Nothing to fear? He knew better than anyone how terrifying the Chaos was. How holding such power would destroy his body. The Fae may travel through it, but they didn’t live in it. And they were the strongest of all magic users.

  “It matters not now,” Nanshe said. “Things have now changed. In order for the past I see to not be your future, I needed to be with Carlo.”

  The room went silent for about ten seconds before everyone started speaking at once.

  “Silence,” Arturo growled. Everyone in the room did as he commanded. “There isn’t any point in repeating this. If this is about what is coming, we call everyone in. I swear, we need to make this a thing with all the shit coming our way.”

  Dominic shook his head. “If we do that, I fear it would only make sure we faced stuff all the time.”

  Romano snorted. “It doesn’t seem like we have another choice anyway.” He stared pointedly at Nanshe.

  “Dominic, call in your Enforcers and Pasquale. I’ll get who I need.” Arturo sighed. “Nanshe, this is against Encantado?”

  “Encantado will only be the start.”

  “Then also call in Heath and the Renegades. Carlo, reach out to the Moonstone Pack. Kalinda—”

  Kalinda groaned. “I’m already working on getting the Trinity here and will contact Torin.”

  Silva tensed. “Please, anyone but him.”

  “Tough cookie, Tinker Bell. He’s in too. We’ll need the Guardians on watch.”

  “Goddess save me, can’t we have just one fucking moment without impossible doom facing any of us?”

  As everyone filtered out the door, pulling phones from their pockets as they went, Nanshe remained next to him. Carlo was certain the answer to Silva’s complaint was a resounding “no.”

  “We will talk, Carlo. What we are cannot be denied.”

  “It will have to be. Knowing you are my mate and tying myself to the Chaos are two very different things,” he growled.

  “If you want them to survive, you’ll do what you have to do. You cannot be afraid of who and what you are.”

  “I’m a wolf, woman.”

  “Are you?”

  He couldn’t say another word before his destiny sashayed out of his room. He picked up a lamp and tossed it into the wall, smashing it to bits. Not like he could make his space look any worse.

  Fuck!

  Chapter Three

  The arena was the only place large enough to house nearly thirty people as they met to get more information on the threat coming to Encantado. Not that Carlo wanted to make light of what was coming, but times were much simpler when he could rely on his claws and the sweet sound of whispering bullets to remove threats.

  Then again, it was harder to focus on anything other than the situation when that very problem had brought him the most bothersome issue all. Her. Even thinking of her made his wolf go crazy, driving him to claim what belonged to him. Since being changed in the ’50s, Carlo had been one with his wolf. Even while the Chaos scrambled his mind, Carlo’s wolf had fought with him to find a semblance of sanity.

  Now, the wolf and man were at odds.

  Nanshe wore the same white dress. Watching her move through the lower meeting hall, the fabric curling around her legs like a lover with each step, he was hard pressed to keep his wolf from doing exactly what it wanted to do with her on the nearest surface. It didn’t matter to the beast that Carlo didn’t want to touch the Chaos again. It didn’t care she would likely be the reason he went crazy again.

  No matter if she kept it contained, Nanshe carried the Chaos within her body. The power slithered through her very bloodstream, lending a slightly electric undertone to her cinnamon and vanilla scent. It made his skin crawl.

  “You lie.”

  He ignored her.

  “Well, you don’t, but you ignore what else it makes you feel.”

  Ignored, again.

  Instead, he waited until she slid into a seat at the head of the black lacquer table, her back straight and her arms on the armrests on the side, fingers relaxed and graceful. Nanshe surveyed the space around her like a queen, her chin held high and her nearly white hair sliding over her shoulder in a decadent cascade.

  Get it together, wolf.

  “Don’t argue with the only intelligence within you.”

  He growled at that but swallowed the sound at the soft smile and flash in her red eyes. She’d gotten him to respond, and he knew that was what she wanted, so he made a more pointed stand.

  Carlo stalked to the other end of the room, past the entire length of the enormous table of empty chairs. Arturo sat on this side, his fingers resting under his chin as he waited for the others to come in. As these were his lands, he would be the power. He wouldn’t demand the other wolves to bow, but they’d get the message loud and clear.

  In fact, Nanshe’s back was to the elevators, where everyone would enter behind her and some of the group already stood, waiting to be seated. Another message. She was the one in a vulnerable state. Carlo ignored the fact he could watch her back from his vantage point, and with his height and prowess, he’d be there to protect her long before anyone could do a damn thing.

  “Thank you.”

  Get out of my head, witch.

  Nanshe sighed. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

  Why?

  Before Carlo received her answer, Asherah stepped forward and took a seat to Nanshe’s right. She had changed into a more formal dress for a meeting with all the leaders of Encantado. Carlo couldn’t deny her blue/green dress and the way she allowed her magic to swirl around her—making her hair dance as if under water—was an excellent power move. Asherah may appear weak, but she was Seelie royalty like her sister, and they’d all seen what Silva could do in a battle.

  “Asherah, good to see you.” Carlo gave a small smile and nodded, and she returned the gesture.

  Silva took up a spot behind Ash’s left shoulder. She’d changed into a black dress that highlighted her silver hair and purplish eyes to perfection. Her silver sword glittered at her hip, and her black wings tipped with violet hues were as threatening as they were beautiful.

  “Just so you know, I’m now upping the points for your balls to 500.”

  Carlo’s jaw dropped, and the thought of Isadora attacking his nuts ever again forced a shiver down his spine and an ache between his legs.

  “Wh– What the hell was that for, Silva?” he stammered.

  “Um, I’m older, I’m the Fae Queen, I should be addressed first. But whatever.”

  Asherah blinked up at her sister and gasped.

  “It’s okay, sis. I love you. Gotta keep the wolf on his toes though. Hashtag, the Queen has arrived. Hashtag, Rosemary’s Baby is the shit. Hashtag, Silva Junior in training. Hashtag, at least she isn’t looking for her backpack.”

  Carlo and Asherah groaned in unison, and Arturo simply remained silent and stoic.

  Eiravel was poised next to Silva, the red flecks in his eyes dancing, warning of his preparedness for battle. Carlo was surprised Heath wasn’t in Eiravel’s place, until the large Unseelie male stepped off the elevator.

  It had been difficult getting used to his ebony hair, the rough beard over his jaw, and the way his black eyes sparked with silver. He’d previously hidden his Fae nature, making them all believe he was nothing more than a teenager. Now they knew he was hundreds of years old and controlled the shadow element. Case in point, one sword hilt was visible over his shoulder and a second sword—made of complete shadow—hovered over his other shoulder, wisps of dark power flaring around it. Cynes, Eiravel’s exact duplicate save the gold starbursts in his eyes, accompanied him.

  The Fae were hard to ignore in their show of force.

  Heath leaned in, kissed Ashera
h, and nodded toward the elevators.

  “That could be us, Carlo.”

  Carlo snorted. I’d have done better than that.

  “Is that a promise?”

  Carlo caught himself and glared at his mate across the table. I don’t hate you, Nanshe. Her intake of breath and the way her pulse jumped in her throat when he said her name made him hard. But I can’t do this. Have you ever thought the Chaos would only destroy me again?

  “Have you ever thought maybe it would make you more powerful?”

  “I’ve never cared for power, witch.”

  Nanshe’s face twitched. “I am not a witch, wolf. I’ve said this already. Stubborn male.”

  Carlo shook his head, paying attention to who was coming in next. Kalinda walked in, her red dress a statement against her chocolate skin and hair. She’d worn her high bun, showing off the lines of her face in vivid relief. She sat down next to Asherah.

  Silva leaned over and whisper-shouted in Kalinda’s ear. “I get it. You’re beautiful and everybody likes you, but did you really have to show me up with that entrance? Damn! Hot momma in the house!” She looked up at the rest of the group, feigned shame on her face. “Oops, was that out loud. Sorry not sorry. It’s not easy being beautiful.”

  Kalinda smiled. “Thanks, Silva. Love you too. Muah.”

  Behind her was Yon, with his ever-changing face like some psych evaluation. Following closely was dark-skinned Amalia, with her wild hair and a thick, white line painted across her eyes. Directly behind her was Lennox, which was probably a good move.

  Romano had never liked that Lennox had once thought he’d be able to enchant Kalinda with his white hair and dove-gray eyes. He’d wanted her to be his consort. It hadn’t worked out like he had hoped though. In fact, the three mages were the some of the strongest in Encantado, and they all answered to the more powerful Kalinda.

  Not that any of them didn’t have weaknesses. They’d seen that when Heath had attacked and nearly killed Silva, by extension almost taking out Kalinda as well. Power didn’t mean untouchable.

  Speaking of Romano, he’d followed Lennox into the room, keeping his eyes on him the entire time. The massive wolf growled at mage and made him step out of his way before he leaned down and kissed his mate soundly. She giggled into his mouth, pulling him closer and running her fingers through his hair before she let him pull back.