Faults in FateA Vein Chronicles Novella
Page 17
But of course, Isla had to wake up with style. And totally steal her thunder on binding the witch single-handedly by letting the cabin know her human husband who her family had killed—and who had her ‘Jack the Ripper’ an entire continent for fifty years—was actually alive, a vampire, and the head of the rebellion. Along with her mother.
“If someone doesn’t make a movie out of my life, I’m going to be so totally pissed off,” she’d said in the car from the airport. “That means all of it would’ve been for nothing.” Thorne gave her a pointed look. “What?” she asked with faux innocence. “I’m sorry. You’re okay and all, but seeing my brilliance on the silver screen? Doesn’t compare.”
They’d stopped at Sophie’s offices.
Isla eyed the witch. “You’ve got this from here, right?” she asked. “I don’t mean like forever, I mean just like locking her up while we go figure out what the fuck to do with her. You’ve got your doggy bodyguard slash luggage assistant. Luggage being one crazy evil witch.” She winked. “Make sure you tip him well.”
Sophie had told her bestie “we got this” even though she’d been vaguely worried that, for once in her life, she didn’t ‘got this’, because she saw that the thread Isla had been holding onto for five hundred years was about to snap with the news of Jonathan.
His death had followed her through the ages and was a small contributing factor to why she was fucked up. The rest of it was just because she was a narcissistic bitch. A fun one, though.
The clang of the cage hurtled Sophie back to the present. Her mind was getting whiplash from all the back and forth.
Conall clutched the sides of her head, his face tight with worry. He seemed to sense she was about to lose it.
“She gonna be able to get outta here anytime soon?” he clipped, jerking his head toward the cage.
“No,” Sophie said confidently. Her spell on the cage was fucking fantastic. It’d hold for the time being. Not forever, because eventually the binding spell would wear off and the crystal around her neck would return power to its rightful owner. If they hadn’t figured something out by then, they were fucked.
She was in his arms and halfway down the stairs before she knew what was going on.
“What are you—” she started to protest. But the security and warmth of Conall’s arms was what finally let her bruised and battered mind succumb to the abyss.
He paced the area in front of the bed, about to rip the skin from his bones.
Sophie was still. So still he had to check her heartbeat every five seconds to make sure she wasn’t dead. But he’d know if she was dead.
He’d be in insurmountable pain. If his mate had left this world, then he wouldn’t be thinking about ripping the skin from his bones—he’d be doing it already.
But death clung to her from her time with that monster. He could sense it. He could fucking taste it, like acid on his tongue.
Never in his life had he been scared. Of anything. He had been through pain, suffering, the loss of his entire family, betrayal of his clan, torture, the solitude of the moon that killed most wolves.
But never fear.
The moments Sophie was in that antechamber, with that… thing and he was helpless to do a fucking thing, had been the most terrifying of his entire existence.
Worse, because he could see that Sophie—or the darkness within her—almost crossed over to a place that he would never get her back from. The rankest of evils, that charred and chewed souls so bad that even Hades wouldn’t take them.
If she had, he would’ve followed her without question. At least his charred soul would have her blackened one. He was not afraid of his own damnation.
It was hers that boiled his blood.
He also sensed the weakness creeping at her, the power yanking at every available source the entire time she battled to keep the witch contained. It had almost killed her.
And he’d been fucking powerless.
He was going to do anything in his power to get this evil ended, the one outside her and the one within her. He was going to do everything outside of his power too. Because humans in love did impossible things to save their soul mates. Wolves would do so much more. This wolf would do everything.
He’d burn this fucking world to the ground.
He was a king, by birth and by blood. He was never going to be powerless. He’d take back his throne, have his mate—his witch queen—at his side, and he’d watch the fucking world burn.
Acknowledgments
I am lucky enough to have some amazing people in my life who encourage me and put up with my crazy when I’m writing. And my crazy when I’m not writing too.
Mum. You’ve always been my biggest cheerleader, my best friend and my sometimes therapist. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t know the magic of reading and I wouldn’t be able to write a word. Thank you for telling me I could be anything I wanted to be. I’d never be who I am today if it wasn’t for you.
My Dad. You’re not here with us but you’re the reason why I can shoot a gun, ride a motorbike, shop like a champ, and believe in myself. I miss you every day.
Michelle and Caro. You two ladies are so very special and your generosity and support is amazing. I’m so lucky I have you.
Jessica Gadziala. My #sisterqueen. You’ve cheered me on when I didn’t believe in myself and given me a friendship that is all about straightening crowns.
This book wouldn’t be what it is without my wonderful team of betas. These special ladies helped to make this book what it is. Ginny, Amy, Sarah, and Annette you are wonderful.
Harriet, Polly and Emma. My girls. The ones who talk me down when I’m getting crazy, or bring a bottle of wine and get crazy with me. True friendships are rare in this world, but I’ve got it with you ladies.
And to you, the reader. Thank you. Thank you for reading my books. Thank you for taking a chance on something different from me. Thanks for every e-mail, comment, and review you give me. I treasure each and every one.
About the Author
Anne Malcom has been an avid reader since before she can remember, her mother responsible for her book addiction. It started with magical journeys into the world of Hogwarts and Middle Earth, then as she grew up her reading tastes grew with her. Her obsession with books and romance novels in particular gave Anne the opportunity to find another passion, writing. Finding writing about alpha males and happily ever afters more fun than reading about them, Anne is not about to stop any time soon.
Raised in small town New Zealand, Anne had a truly special childhood, growing up in one of the most beautiful countries in the world. She has backpacked across Europe, ridden camels in the Sahara, eaten her way through Italy, and had all sorts of crazy adventures. For now, she's back at home in New Zealand and quite happy. But who knows when the travel bug will bite her again.
Want to get stalking?
Check out Anne’s website
Email her at: annemalcomauthor@hotmail.com
Join her amazing reader group
Also by Anne Malcom
The Vein Chronicles
Fatal Harmony
Deathless
Eternity’s Awakening — Coming Soon
The Sons of Templar MC
Making the Cut
Firestorm
Outside the Lines: A Sons of Templar Novella
Out of the Ashes
Beyond the Horizon
Dauntless
Unquiet Mind
Echoes of Silence
Skeletons of Us
Broken Shelves
Greenstone Security
Still Waters
Shield
Standalones
Birds of Paradise
-filter: grayscale(100%); -moz-filter: grayscale(100%); -o-filter: grayscale(100%); -ms-filter: grayscale(100%); filter: grayscale(100%); " class="sharethis-inline-share-buttons">share