Sleeper (Rise of the Fianna Book 1)

by Amy Brock McNew

  Her hand flew to her own neck where she felt the indentation of his bite.

  A bite that somehow she knew would never fade.

  Makenna finally met his eyes. She knew hers were hard as her entire body tightened in preparation for flight. Or a fight. She wasn't sure yet. The part of her that knew precisely what he'd been hiding got choke slammed by the part that couldn't yet believe it. The part that couldn't wrap itself around the truth her soul knew.

  A soul that suddenly felt ancient.

  Understanding flashed in his eyes, followed closely by fear. Makenna shoved to her feet and was out of the tub in a heartbeat. His arms flailed as he stood so fast he nearly fell. When he reached for her again, she slapped his hand away.

  “Kenna, it's okay.” He followed her out. He pressed himself against her back and grabbed her shoulders as she yanked a towel off the rack. “It's not a big deal. We got a little carried away.”

  Even though she couldn't comprehend it at the moment, she smelled the lie. It was a big deal. Only, she didn't know why. She just knew. Those damn knowings. Why did they always have to fuck everything up?

  After haphazardly drying herself, she slung the towel in the direction of the hamper. Then she wheeled on him. “Yeah, we got carried away all right.” He moved toward her and she stepped back. “What's going on, Rhys? What really happened last night?”

  “I don't know what─”

  “Stop fucking lying to me!”

  Makenna shoved him in the chest. A lesser man would've fallen back into the tub, but somehow Rhys managed to stay on his feet. He stomped after her as she charged to her closet. He braced his arms on the door and watched her pull on yoga pants and a tank top. When she went to shove past him, he blocked her path by taking up the entire frame.

  “Get out of my way, asshole.”

  She refused to look at him. The first man she'd ever trusted. Hell, the first person she'd trusted since her aunt and uncle. And he was lying to her. The last part of her heart left intact from years of abuse shattered. The noise was so loud she knew he had to hear it.

  When his head jerked back and agony swam between them, she was sure.

  “Kenna, just listen.”

  He grabbed her shoulders and she let him. She was too afraid if she moved, she'd hurt him. Bad. Like that kid in junior high. Just like she hurt everyone who got too close. He'd end up dead.

  Just like her aunt and uncle.

  Just like her mother.

  She shook off the thoughts, fighting with all she had to calm herself.

  “Rhys, you need to go.” She spoke softly, forcing out each word as the pieces of her heart scraped her insides.

  “I'm not going anywhere until we talk about this.” Or ever.

  She heard the words floating around them as if he'd said them.

  Yep, not good. Crazy train, ticket for one, please.

  She pushed at him. He didn't move an inch.

  Makenna’s guts felt like they were being shredded as fire shot from her bones out to her fingertips. “Fine. Are you gonna tell me why you're lying?”

  His face fell. To his credit, he held her glare as he crossed his arms. And lied to her yet again. “I'm not lying to you.”

  “Bullshit.” She feinted right, then ducked left when Rhys shifted, swerving around him while pushing him into the stack of sparring pads under her coat.

  “Kenna, you need to calm down.”

  She flipped around on her way out the bedroom door to see him standing in the middle of her room, buck ass naked, hands on hips. How Rhys could look so confident and imposing with his dick swinging in the air, she'd never know. Then again, it was an impressive dick. But even that wasn't going to sidetrack her. His touch, his talents, couldn't take away the twisting in her gut or the tears she was two seconds from letting loose.

  When she was so angry and hurt she cried, it was time for everyone in the vicinity to find cover.

  “I don't need to fucking calm down. I don't need to do anything but get you the hell out of here and get back to my life before you blazed into it like a fucking wrecking ball and fucked everything all to shit!”

  She sucked in air as Rhys absorbed her tirade. Lines etched into his forehead. Red swept across his cheekbones. Shadows swam in his eyes as sheer agony and regret reached out and nearly pulled her to him.

  Insanity scratched at the walls of her brain. Terror rippled through her and torment zapped the strength from her muscles, buckling her knees.

  He moved like lightning, steadying hands on her hips. Her soul settled at his touch even though her shattered heart screamed to be away from the one who'd caused the damage. It was like there were two people inside of her fighting for control. One who couldn't bear the thought of being away from him, regretted her hateful words and the pain they'd caused him. The other who wanted free from him and the hurt and confusion that came with him.

  She felt as if she were being torn apart from the inside by a wild animal on meth.

  “Kenna, love, please. I can't explain it all right now. I need you to trust me. Please. Just trust me. Trust us.” Desperation rode every word.

  Those hands she adored pulled her close. For a moment, she clutched his shoulders and sank into his strength and warmth.

  Home. Rhys felt like home and love.

  A home that wasn't hers.

  A love that wasn't real.

  Home was a place she didn't have. And love, well, that was a dream for people who weren't freaks of nature. People who didn't destroy everything in their path.

  Biting back a scream as she ripped herself in half, Makenna placed a kiss to the center of his chest and wrenched from his arms. She met his tortured gaze. Seeing the same war raging in his soul, the tears almost broke free. But she wouldn't cry in front of him. Wouldn't let him see how broken she was.

  This time, he didn't try to pull her back.

  She wrapped her arms around her middle and studied the wall. “You have to go. Now.” The words were so quiet, she wasn't even sure he heard them.

  Clothes rustled. A zipper rasped. Boots were pulled on.

  His warmth radiated in front of her. She could touch him if she reached out, but he may as well have been a million miles away. One finger traced down her jaw. Just like the first time they met, standing in the aisle of the grocery store.

  “Kenna, my love,” his voice cracked right along with the last big chunk of her heart. “I'll give you time to think, to come to terms with this. But I will be back. I will not leave you.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Her soul screamed for his as he pulled away. “You're mine, Kenna, and I'm yours. Be safe for me.”

  She stood rooted to the spot as footsteps echoed and the door opened and closed.

  As his steps sounded down the stairs, she collapsed in a watery heap on the floor.

  It didn't make sense, but her world crashed and fell to pieces around her as the other half of her soul walked out the door and possibly out of her life for good.

  CHAPTER TEN

  This Ain't No Place For No Hero

  Rhys had made possibly the biggest mistake of his life.

  It demonstrated the depth of ice in his cold, black heart that he could walk out on his mate. Especially after they'd just been bonded.

  It'd taken all his willpower and a battle with his wolf that continued unabated, but he'd done it.

  Left her sobbing her heart out on the floor, knowing the enemy could descend at any moment.

  Yes, Karianna had seemed surprised to find her there, and neither she nor her companion had had time to relay her location back to Kylian. But they'd had his location, and a team would surely be dispatched to search for them when they didn't return. Though Makenna's magical signature was dulled, they could sense her if they were powerful enough.

  Yet he'd walked out the door, got on his bike, and sped away.

  Rhys was a bastard.

  His wolf agreed.

  He'd come to terms with that long ago, due to the thi
ngs he'd had to do, the missions he'd had to order as leader of his clan and soon to be king. His wolf understood that. Concurred with the decisions he'd made. Rhys had reached an entirely new level of being a bastard tonight, though, and his wolf protested by raking its claws through his insides.

  The wind through his hair, the roar of the machine between his legs, the wildness of the bayou on either side of the road, didn't calm him as they usually did.

  Nothing could calm the slicing, jagged pain in his heart and soul, the hatred for himself coursing through his veins.

  He'd made love to Makenna. Then scared her. Then lied to her. Withheld answers she desperately needed even though she'd presented him with the perfect opportunity to give her the truth.

  Rhys could've been her hero, providing her with the peace she craved. The peace that came with understanding who she was, what she was, and why she owned the power she did. He could've packed her up and taken her home with him where she belonged.

  He was obviously no hero.

  There was no room for heroes in his world.

  Heroes got people killed. Heroes didn't make the hard decisions. Decisions that hurt the few for the good of the many.

  Heroes didn't leave their mates alone and defenseless. They told the truth even though the person they cared about most in the world might hate them.

  As he drove, Rhys had to admit fear was part of what had held him back. He'd either be her savior or the person she hated most in the world after revealing her truth. She hadn't been ready, but who would ever be ready to hear they weren't human as they'd been raised? Who would be ready to hear that the fate of an entire people rested on their shoulders?

  He sure hadn't been.

  He smacked his wolf down and all the confusing emotions the animal exacerbated within him. He'd done what he had to do. He had two guards hidden around Makenna’s place. He'd provided for her safety. That would be enough. She needed time to digest what had happened before he revealed anything else.

  He pointedly ignored the voice inside that said he'd left because he wasn't ready to face being bonded. That no matter how much he cared for her, he hadn't been ready for a mate. That he was terrified because he was falling in love with her. Or that he hadn't been ready for yet one more person to be responsible for.

  Rhys rumbled over the rickety bridge leading to their makeshift homestead. He pulled the bike into the small structure beside his hut and climbed off. After locking the shed door, he headed up the porch steps to hide out for a while and lick his wounds.

  Trystan yelled across the camp. “Rhys! We got a couple live ones!”

  His soldiers had taken captives.

  Anticipation tingled in his limbs. After Kylian's soldiers had put Makenna in danger, injured her, he could use the opportunity to dish out some pain in return. It wouldn’t hurt that he could work out some of his frustration with himself in the process. The need to spill blood charged his muscles even as his heart twisted at what he’d become.

  But it was who he was.

  Right there was another reason he was a bastard. Torturing the enemy no longer gave him pause. He didn't do it for enjoyment. There was typically no emotion involved. His mission was to get the answers he needed to decipher Kylian's plans and head off his next move, eventually leading to his defeat.

  He did what was necessary for his people. No more.

  Although tonight, that might change.

  Rhys took a step toward the shack. Dizziness swirled in his head and his knees buckled. He stumbled. Glancing around to see that no one noticed, he steadied himself. What the fuck? He was sweating, from more than just the oppressive heat. It was a cold sweat.

  The bond.

  As long as their bond hadn't fully developed, which took time, being apart would weaken them both. He'd forgotten that little gem.

  “Fuck!”

  Several of his people milling around lifted their heads at his exclamation. He waved off the female with wicked curves and flowing blonde hair who moved toward him. A woman he'd bedded many times over the years.

  The thought of another woman's hands on him, in any capacity, turned his stomach. It would be that way from now on since they’d bonded. They'd both be more protective as well, having visceral reactions to anyone of the opposite sex touching or even paying attention to their mate, and never wanting the other out of their sight.

  Rhys held his aching gut and laughed out loud at that last thought. Though it would become more difficult as time went on, he'd been able to override that compulsion tonight. Again showing how heartless he truly was.

  No, he'd done what he had for her protection. Telling her would've sent her running, and he couldn't afford to have to hunt her down again.

  Thinking about the bond brought another issue to the fore. His people would sense he'd mated. Then the questions would begin as to where Makenna was, and why she wasn't with him. Rhys couldn't explain. Her restricted magic would be seen as weakness, diminishing her ability to have the full respect of her clan. He couldn't have that. She deserved their respect. What was happening to her wasn't her fault, as far as he knew.

  A pesky finger of doubt niggled at the back of his mind. Telling him maybe she was containing her magic to keep herself hidden. That she was keeping the truth from him.

  Shoving it aside, he closed his eyes and drew on the magic inside. Thankfully, it was stronger the closer they got to the full moon. He'd simply cast a shadowing spell, concealing the mating aspects others could detect. It took him a little longer in his partially weakened state, but within a few seconds, the barrier was solid.

  Raising his head high and schooling his features, he stalked toward the shack where they held their prisoners. Blood pounded in his ears. Red hot fire shot through him.

  Rhys was ready to do some damage.

  Throwing the door open so that it slammed against the wall, Rhys stepped inside, filling the doorway with his imposing presence. He let every bit of his royal blood and the power he commanded display, his eyes turning wolf.

  All sound ceased.

  Trystan and Amanda moved away from the prisoners who'd been on the receiving end of their fists.

  The man's eyes were still clear, his face set. He wouldn't be the one to give, though Rhys would enjoy trying to break him. He shifted his focus to the female warrior restrained in the chair next to him. As soon as she took in Rhys, she shuddered and yanked at her bonds.

  “That won't do you any good.” Rhys's voice was low and quiet. “Even if you were to free yourself, you wouldn't make it to the door.” He stepped fully inside and shut the door softly behind him.

  The effect on the prisoners was worse than if he'd slammed it. The woman's struggle intensified, and fear licked at the man's eyes as Rhys stopped a foot away from them.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Amanda tilted her head. Her ebony ponytail flipped over her shoulder, covering specks of the prisoner’s blood on her shirt. Her blue eyes narrowed as her nose lifted to sniff the air. Rhys wasn't worried. Those closest to him may sense something was different, but even they wouldn't be able to pinpoint it as a mating bond.

  Trystan moved to his left, shoulder to shoulder. Both among the largest of their race, their imposing statures and dark coloring only lent strength to the fury sparking red around them. “So far, they're not breaking.” Even his frustration couldn't hide his admiration.

  There was nothing Trystan hated worse than a coward. Though they were enemies, a small amount of respect leaked into his gravelly voice.

  Stuffing all emotion into a deep hole, Rhys smiled. The ice in his heart left no room for kindness, though. These prisoners were part of a force seeking to destroy his mate. His people.

  They would receive no mercy.

  “Well then, it's a good thing I've arrived.” He circled the prisoners, surveying the bruises left by Trystan and Amanda, the blood running from split brows and broken noses. “I see getting smacked around doesn't faze you. But then, Kylian has probably done worse to you.
” He leaned in, grasping the thumb of the male. He wrenched the hand to the side, pulling against the restraint. “Let's see how talkative you are when bones start breaking.”

  A loud snap sounded as the male’s thumb broke, followed by a low growl from the prisoner. The man's jaw clenched until his teeth audibly ground, and his entire body tensed. His eyes turned wolf. Colors flickered around the man, then sputtered out.

  Rhys surveyed him indifferently. “You might as well stop trying to shift. Bowen's power is stronger than yours. Those knives digging into you every time you attempt to shift should give you a clue. Hurts, doesn't it? Not being able to take the form you wish?”

  Rhys wondered for a second how Makenna tolerated the pain and his chest tightened. He brushed thoughts of his mate aside and focused on the task at hand.

  The man laughed, though it was strained. “Kylian's mage is infinitely more powerful than your pitiful excuse for a spell caster. You'll see. Soon.” His arrogance swirled a rancid stench through the air.

  Rhys grinned. “I'm looking forward to it.”

  Apparently it would take more to break this one than he'd thought. He eyed the female, moving to stand in front of her. She was a beauty. But with her red hair askew and purple bruises and blood on her delicate face, she looked a little worse for wear. The dark headed male jerked in his bonds. His impressive, warrior’s physique strained, veins popping out of his muscles.

  Jackpot.

  Rhys sniffed the air. They were mated. How fortuitous. He crouched in front of the woman. To her credit, she displayed no fear, though the air around her reeked of it.

  His talents in interrogation techniques had spread among Kylian's ranks. Fucking wonderful. They should fear him.

  Amanda sidled up to him. “Alpha, I remind you the females are my duty to deal with.”

  Her respectful tone and use of a formal title didn't mitigate the fact she was questioning him. One of her talents was being able to sense the emotions of others, to see their motivations. It made her a brilliant negotiator, part and parcel of her station within the pack as the mediator. She'd clearly read him and ascertained he was in a volatile state.