Credo (Scars of the Wraiths Book 3)

by Nashoda Rose

But he never did.

  “I’ll get Anstice, then I need to shower.” I slipped from his grasp and was standing when a mist of cool rain sprinkled my skin.

  My breath hitched and Xamien threw his legs over the side of the bed to get up.

  “Hello, Delara. Xamien.” Genevieve, the Wraith of Water, appeared by the bedroom window in all her magnificence.

  It was as if she’d purposely picked that spot so the sunlight would emphasize her natural beauty. The morning rays caught her blonde hair, making it appear almost translucent, while the moisture clinging to her skin scintillated.

  Genevieve smiled at Xamien, and her eyes trailed down his body, desire flaring. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Xamien. You look well.”

  “Genevieve.” He bowed his head respectfully; however, his eyes didn’t match his address. They were stone cold. Was there history between them? I knew Xamien had once sat on the Deaconry, but left. Was Genevieve the reason?

  “I apologize for appearing unannounced, however it’s imperative, as it concerns Waleron.”

  My breath hitched and my fingers gripped the sides of my jeans. “Is he okay?”

  “Yes. For now,” she replied.

  Genevieve glided across the room to stand a few feet away from me. The moisture that emanated from her glistening skin clung to the tip of my tongue.

  “There is discourse in the Realm,” she continued. “One person in particular is attempting to have Waleron incarcerated.”

  “Edan,” I whispered. Oh God, no. Waleron would never survive being imprisoned again.

  Xamien rose, ignoring the fact that he was in his boxers and half-naked. “Why? He’s done nothing wrong. And the Wraiths cannot imprison a Taldeburu without a damn good reason.”

  “True, however they have reason.”

  “What?” Xamien barked.

  Genevieve ran her finger down the glass vase sitting on the dresser. “Tarek Rising makes Waleron a liability. He acts irrationally, even with his pills. The Wraiths see this and wish to control the situation before it becomes an issue.” She shifted her feet and her long, pale blue dress caught the sunlight, making it glitter with beads of water. “It has been brought to the Deaconry’s attention that Waleron is hunting Tarek and he plans on killing him. Unless Tarek poses a threat, we can’t allow that to happen. You understand if we decide to incarcerate him. It is to protect him.”

  “It will kill him,” I blurted. “You first threaten his Taldeburu and now to imprison him? He has done nothing but give his loyalty. He lives by his oaths. You can’t do that.” It had to be Edan causing the trouble in the Realm. The Fire Wraith has had it out for Waleron for centuries, even before I was an issue.

  Xamien stepped forward and took my hand, squeezing. “Careful, kitten, she is the kindest of Wraiths, but still a Wraith.”

  “Waleron is one of the most powerful Scars alive. Although we don’t know about you, do we, Xamien? You choose to keep all your powers hidden.” Xamien tensed, but didn’t respond. “The Wraiths are here to see that all Scars abide by our laws. That includes Waleron.”

  “He isn’t breaking any goddamn law,” I shouted.

  “Delara, don’t piss her off. She can be a real bitch.”

  Genevieve smiled. “My dear, you protect him. That’s good. He needs someone to stand at his side even if he doesn’t want it.” Her eyes hardened. “Stay with Xamien’s Talde for now, and I will do what I can to pacify those who wish to lock Waleron up. You being here is a detriment and does not help him.” A cool mist dispersed around us and Genevieve was gone.

  I straightened my shoulders and turned to Xamien. “I shouldn’t have fought him. Shit. This was why he wanted me gone so badly. Why he wouldn’t let me face Tarek. Because the Wraiths think he’s acting irrationally and I’m making it worse for him.” I headed for the door. “I’ll leave right now and take the jet. You can Trace back to Spain when you feel better.”

  He shook his head. “No. You can’t go alone. Go pack. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  “MEET ME OUTSIDE THE BACK door,” I told Xamien.

  “Problem?” he asked.

  I didn’t respond. He damn well knew there was a problem.

  The cool breeze tickled my exposed skin and my Ink slithered uneasily as the emotions I tried to bury with the drugs rallied to come to the surface and ignite.

  I had no right to feel this way, but I had no control over it.

  The diazepam calmed me and numbed a lot of the emotions, but finding out Delara was fucking Xamien… there was no amount of pills to stomp out the fire raging inside me.

  Confronting Xamien was a necessity before he took my woman to live with him.

  Xamien strolled out the back door and walked toward me where I stood at the bench near the garden.

  Business first. “Abigail?” I asked.

  Xamien shrugged. “Well enough. She is adjusting to the cravings, but she’s unpredictable and I don’t trust her yet. When do you plan on telling him?”

  Never. Damien could never know. I ignored the question. “Blood?”

  “Glunk provides her with blood from the local blood bank and she manages well on it. She’s bound to a room. A spell my mother taught me. However, she’s a witch and one day will discover how to unweave it.”

  “Will she come for Damien?”

  Xamien shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. Abby never mentions him. I think she chooses to forget.”

  I nodded. “Good.”

  “Damien still grieves. He deserves to know. ”

  “No. Abby requested that Damien believe she’s dead. And have you thought of the consequences if the Wraiths and witches find out she is alive?”

  “You could convince the Deaconry otherwise. Abby cannot remain locked under my spells forever.”

  “I cannot convince the Deaconry of anything. The Wraiths watch my every move.”

  “Is that it, or do you want to discuss why you’re being an asshole to her?” Xamien said.

  I stiffened, hands curling into fists at my sides. Fuck. I had the urge to blast him with a bolt of energy, but he was right. I was being an asshole.

  Xamien had requested to be removed from the Deaconry over a century ago, but he was valued for the skills he possessed as a warrior—his strength, composed nature, and fairness.

  It was the reason I trusted him to keep Delara safe.

  “I need her safe, Xamien. And I need her gone. Away from me, but it doesn’t mean I’m good with you fucking her.”

  Xamien snorted, brows rising. “Do you have any clue what you’re doing to her?”

  The tension in my neck coiled like a spring. “Do not think that you can even begin to understand what is between Delara and me.”

  “But I do. I was the one who brought her mind back from the depths of despair when she thought you were dead. I’m the one who was there for her when she thought she’d lost her child. And again when you made that bargain with Trinity and fucked her for a week, destroying Delara in the process. You know how much she hates Trinity and still you did it.”

  My Ink burned over my skin as it uncoiled. What the fuck was Xamien saying? Delara went to Xamien then? After Trinity? Because of Trinity? Christ, after our child was taken from us?

  Xamien continued, “I see it. I fuckin’ feel it. You still love her. And I know her love for you was immeasurable.”

  He said was. No, Delara still loved me. I saw it in her eyes, felt it in her kiss, her touch. That would never die.

  Did Xamien think he could walk into her life and erase everything Delara and I had been through? Expunge our love? “She uses men to hurt me, Xamien. You’re nothing new.”

  “And is that not reason enough to stop what you’re doing? She deserves better.”

  Xamien’s words blasted into me and it took everything I had not to slam my fist into his face. Instead, I reached into my pocket and took out my dispenser and popped another pill. I was already over my daily limit and it was only morning.

  Xam
ien met my glare. “Whether I fuck her or not is none of your business. And it hasn’t been for twenty years.”

  My Ink hissed. It took me several seconds to control the roar of fury that wanted to escape my throat. The thought of Delara lying in Xamien’s arms was debilitating.

  “Waleron,” Keir said coming out the back door. “Need you.”

  “She’s always my business,” I said, then turned and followed Keir back inside.

  Anstice’s massive black dog, Grim, growled at a box on the floor then let out a deep bark and then a whine before he looked up at Anstice.

  Keir strode into the foyer with Waleron and Xamien behind him.

  “Babe, fuck. Stay clear.” Keir hooked Anstice’s waist and pulled her back from the package.

  “What’s going on?” Waleron asked.

  “The box was delivered a few days ago,” Anstice said. “I put it in the closet since I was in a rush to meet Danni. I forgot about it until Grim started sniffing and pawing at the door a minute ago.”

  I glanced at Waleron. “Tarek. His scent is all over it. And it’s his blood.”

  Xamien urged Grim away from the box then crouched and put his hands over it. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he scowled briefly, looking at me before he ripped off the tape and lifted the lid.

  “Fuck,” he muttered.

  Keir and Anstice stiffened while Waleron and I moved closer.

  I peered into the box and my stomach dropped.

  Settled in red tissue paper was a gold frame with a four-by-eight-sized photo of me. Thin streaks of blood were drawn across my thighs and arms, mimicking my cutting marks.

  “Bastard,” I muttered.

  Waleron bent and picked up the box. His jaw was clamped and his Ink’s eyes blazed red.

  Xamien stood. “He’s trying to unhinge her.”

  “And he’s going to die for it,” Waleron said.

  There was a loud, long hissing noise, high-pitched like an oxygen tank releasing air.

  “Move. Now!” Waleron shouted.

  Waleron bolted for the front door with the box. Xamien grabbed my hand before I had the chance to go after him.

  “Waleron,” I yelled. “Acid. That’s acid.” The scent whirled in the air around us.

  The front door slammed shut behind him and Xamien dragged me into the library with Keir and Anstice.

  “He’ll burn.” My heart raced as panic gripped me. “If he inhales the acid, his lungs will burn in seconds.”

  Anstice went for the door.

  “So not happening, babe,” Keir said, pulling her back into his arms.

  “Waleron?” I yanked from Xamien and ran to the window, parting the curtain. “Damn it, answer me.”

  Shit, I couldn’t see him. Nothing could happen to him. “Waleron? Please. God, please.”

  “Delara,” Waleron said.

  I sagged. Palms against the pane, head bowed. “You’re okay?”

  “Yes.”

  No matter what we were now, death was final and I’d rather fight with Waleron and hurt than go through losing him again.

  Xamien came up behind me and pulled me back from the window, his arms wrapping around me. “He’s okay,” I whispered.

  Waleron was okay.

  “Good.” Xamien placed a kiss on top of my head just as the door opened.

  Waleron’s eyes went straight to us. Locked in an embrace, with Xamien’s chin resting on my head.

  I squeezed Xamien’s forearm and slipped from his arms.

  When Waleron spoke, his voice was harsh. “I’ve contacted Damien. He, Ryker, and Jedrik are on their way.” He looked at Keir. “Inform them of the situation. I want everyone hunting him. CWOs can wait.”

  Keir nodded.

  Waleron continued, “Xamien. Trace back to Spain. I will see that Delara gets there.” His mouth pursed as he ground out, “Delara.” Then he turned and walked from the room.

  It was an order. I followed him to my bedroom and he quietly shut the door behind me.

  Silence.

  “He’s hunting you.” He came up behind me, so close I felt the warmth of his breath on my neck and goose bumps rise. “You’ll come to my house tonight.”

  “What?” I spun around, shocked. No one knew where Waleron lived. In the twenty years he’d been back, no one had even seen his home.

  “You will go to Spain in the morning,” he continued.

  “Why?”

  “You need to see something.”

  “At your house?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t understand. Why now?”

  “Because I said so.” Waleron spun on his heel then came toward me. I raised my chin, refusing to back away from him. He grabbed my wrist and pushed up the sleeve of my shirt.

  “Tac?” I tried to pull away, but his grip was unyielding. “Tac! What are you doing?”

  The faint lines on my arm were blazing neon signs. I tried to push my sleeve back down but he held tight, refusing to let go.

  “This,” his thumb caressed my newest scar, “is no longer an option for you. These will never happen again. Do you understand me?” The photo had freaked him out. “Do you understand me?” he growled.

  “It’s not something you just stop, Tac,” I said softly.

  His eyes closed and his thumb continued to caress a faint scar. The cuts were rarely deep enough to cause scars, but that one had been. And I did want to stop, I just didn’t know how to.

  “Baby.” Oh God, a part of me melted into a pool of slush at his feet. He inhaled a long, haggard breath. “You hurt because of me.” Waleron’s hand travelled up my arm to my shoulder then slid across to my neck. “I need you to come to my place and see something.”

  Why was he doing this today? Why take the chance of the Wraiths finding out? Him taking me to his house made him appear even more irrational.

  I could live with another Talde. Survive it. But what I couldn’t survive was seeing Waleron lose what he lived for—his Taldeburu.

  “Okay.”

  He nodded, then had me regretting my agreement when he said, “You’re close to Xamien.”

  I stiffened and remained silent, uncertain where he was going with this.

  “Are you aware of all his powers?”

  “Excuse me?” Okay, that was not the question I’d expected.

  “His mother is half witch and excels at spells, his father was a Reflector. Xamien is said to have both inside him; however, he speaks nothing of his abilities and uses them cautiously.”

  “He’s my friend, Waleron. Even if I did know, I wouldn’t betray his secrets for anyone, even you.” I spun, storming away from him. How dare he ask me that? Genevieve had mentioned Xamien having other powers, but I didn’t know about anything except his mindweaving, which Waleron knew about.

  “Are you fucking him?”

  I closed my eyes, biting my lower lip, wishing I had a fresh cut on my body I could sink my fingers into and stop the emotional upheaval. But the cuts were an excuse; they made the pain physical, but the emotional pain was still there.

  It never went away.

  Waleron came up behind me, his body inches from mine as he put his hands on my hips. The familiar gesture sent my head spiraling and my sex clenched as my breath came in short gasps.

  “Are you fucking him?” he whispered next to my ear.

  I tensed, closing my eyes.

  Waleron pulled me back against his chest. “Are. You. Fucking. Him?”

  But Waleron didn’t need words to know the truth.

  “I will not tolerate a relationship between you.”

  I had no words because my insides were quivering and the usual fight with Waleron was dying. His entire reason for living, his Taldeburu, may be ripped away from him, and there was nothing I could do except to go to Spain and stay with the one man Waleron was telling me not to be with.

  He turned me around to face him and his hand lifted my chin, so I met his eyes. “End it, Delara.”

  Was I weak beca
use I would do anything to try and protect Waleron from his own demise? There were parts of him that still loved me. He wouldn’t be like this if he didn’t, and that’s what made it worse.

  His thumb stroked my bottom lip. There was no smile, no spark in his eyes, just the familiar ice blue. His other hand curled around the back of my neck and yanked me to him.

  “This is mine.” His mouth slammed into mine.

  Our teeth hit.

  His kiss was complete and utter possession.

  Relentless. Bruising.

  And he stole my breath. My heart. I sagged in to him, fingers curled tight in his shirt.

  He groaned and it vibrated against my lips and echoed in my chest.

  Just as quick as he kissed me, he ended it. “Make no mistake. You may fuck other men, but you will always belong to me. Do not forget that, Delara.”

  I yanked from his arms and staggered back. Waleron’s brows lifted, as if waiting for me to argue.

  I didn’t. With my hand pressed to my swollen and throbbing lips, I spun, picked up my bag, and walked from the room. “We’ll go to your house, but I’m not staying the night.”

  I walked out the door feeling his eyes drill into my back.

  WALERON PICKED UP HIS CELL and tapped into it at the stop sign, then placed it to his ear. “Balen. Need the jet examined. No. Now. Put guards on it too. No one gets near it.” He paused then pressed the End button, tossed his phone into the console, and pulled his car out onto Post Street.

  When I asked why we didn’t Trace to his house, he’d said because he’d driven. In other words, he was wounded, although there weren’t any visible wounds.

  “Abby will be pleased to see you,” he said.

  I wasn’t friends with Abby, but I’d helped her escape the vampire who was responsible for her Transition. “She’d prefer Damien.” But Waleron would never let that happen.

  “She is a vampire, Delara. It’s impossible for them. And better this way.”

  “She’s a witch vampire. And it’s impossible because you don’t believe in love conquering all.” Damien loved Abby. He’d begged Waleron to end his life when Abby left to be executed.

  “A vampire’s craving will always win over love, maitagarri. In time, perhaps Damien can be told.”