Virtue: A Knight World Novel (Fireborn Wolves Book 2)

by Genevieve Jack

  She gripped his hand tighter, her bright blue light coming to rest next to his bright green one. And that’s where she stayed. There was nothing sexual about the encounter, but there could be nothing more intimate. Her soul rested with his in a place beyond time or space. They revolved around each other, two stars orbiting, held in the other’s gravitational pull.

  When it was time to kick off the bottom and float back to the real world, Selene had to do the kicking. She’d practiced this. It would take Jason time to learn to go this deep and know when it was time to come back to reality.

  A deep breath drew into her lungs as she broke the surface. But when she turned to check on Jason, her breath hitched in her throat. His face was serene, all the fear, longing, and bitterness his body had held only moments ago replaced by a deep peace. He’d even stopped sweating.

  She opened her hand, releasing his fingers. No tremors. No pain. No wanting. The muscles of his jaw were relaxed. She almost hated to bring him out of it, but the beneficial effects would diminish if he stayed where he was. Softly, she whispered his name, “Jason.”

  He was safe. Safe and warm and cared for. There was no endless wanting, no bottomless pit of shame or ache of need. And the source of this serenity was in his hand, nestled between his fingers. Then it was gone.

  Desperate to return to that place of peace, he tried to reach for the hand again. But she denied him. He opened his eyes. There was an angel hovering over him, a bright blue angel with the sunrise spilling through a curtain of her hair like liquid gold. For a moment, he lost himself in the connection they shared. Pure light poured into his heart and filled him. He wasn’t alone.

  “Welcome back,” the angel said. Selene. Her name was Selene.

  And then the blue faded and his hands began to shake again. His mouth went as dry as a stone. A muscle in his leg cramped to the point of pain, and a hardcore throb began between his temples as if a little man was building a railroad between his eyes.

  “I need a drink.”

  “How about an aspirin?” She held out her hand to help him up.

  The corner of his mouth lifted and he shook his head. “I think I’d better get up on my own.” He avoided her touch as he stood.

  She sighed and let him go.

  Weeks later, Jason woke, knowing the full moon was just around the corner. It was a good thing he’d made slow and steady progress with Selene’s help, because his wolf would be close to the surface today. In two days, he’d have to endure the shift and face dozens of women he’d slept with at Rivergate. He’d thrown himself into his therapy with the same determination and fortitude he’d always devoted to his business. And he was healing. Controlling himself around Selene was getting easier, despite wanting her every minute of the day. They’d fallen into a kind of routine, a routine he could get used to.

  This morning, as usual, he drifted to the coffee machine while Selene started chopping vegetables for omelets. He’d just filled the water reservoir when she said something that chilled him to the bone. “I think we should try aura manipulation again today.”

  Aura manipulation. That’s what she’d done to him before, the thing that had almost killed him. His neck craned and his eyes locked onto hers. “Why? I thought you found the source of my vice the first time. If there’s something more, I sure as hell don’t know what it is.”

  “My first time in your psyche, I was looking for the source of the darkness within you. This time, I want to look for the source of the light, an anchor you can hold onto if you feel like you might lose control. If you become aware of what strengthens your soul and you foster it, Nickelova’s curse won’t be able to take root in you. If she comes back, she won’t be able to control you.”

  He switched on the coffee pot, then realized he’d forgotten to add coffee and switched it back off. As he pulled the ground beans from the pantry, he asked, “What if you can’t find any light in me? What if you drift down my lightbulb aisle and find nothing but an assortment of coal and cinders?”

  She snorted. “You have light. I saw it while we were meditating. I just couldn’t see the source. It’s bright green. Your soul is beautiful.”

  Jason stared at her for a moment. “Is yours blue?”

  She nodded excitedly. “Yes! Yes. You saw it? That’s really good, Jason. The scrolls say that if you can sense someone’s aura you’re in the presence of the goddess herself. That type of meditation is as good as a prayer.”

  “The goddess, huh.” He took a deep breath. “I never actually believed in the goddess. I’m still not sure there isn’t another explanation for what you do.”

  “How do you explain how I saved you from the curse? I’m not a witch. My only power comes from my connection to the goddess through our religious order.”

  His brow furrowed. “How did you lift my curse?”

  “I didn’t lift it, exactly. I performed a ritual asking the goddess to transfer it into me.” She pointed at her chest.

  “Then why aren’t you catatonic in bed like I was?”

  “My training and lifestyle keep me pure. Nickelova’s curse was attached to your vice, but when I transferred it into me, there was no place for it to take root. It fizzled and died like a seed on concrete.”

  “Your innocence saved you.”

  “I told you last night, I’m not exactly innocent, but my way of life is powerful.”

  “Virtue is powerful,” he murmured more to himself than to her. It had been a long time since he’d thought of the goddess or his place in the universe. What was it about Selene? Every moment he spent with her challenged him to be a better person. “Thank you for risking yourself for me.”

  Selene blushed and turned toward the frying pan.

  “Are you all right? Did I say something wrong?”

  She plated the eggs. “Just fine. Let’s eat. I want to get started as soon as possible.”

  Chapter 16

  To say that Jason was apprehensive about Selene entering his memories again was an understatement. The first time had felt like having his heart pulled out of his nostril, chewed up, and spit back into the opposite nostril. Silas had been right. The woman sitting cross-legged before him looked as sweet and gentle as an angel, but the power in those dainty, tapered fingers, those two hands adorned with ritualistic symbols, was as fierce and powerful as the goddess’s.

  “You’re trembling again,” Selene said. “Are the withdrawal symptoms coming back?”

  “No.”

  “Then what’s wrong?”

  “I’m scared shitless. I don’t want to end up in bed for four days again.”

  She took one of his hands in hers, and Jason had to suppress the temptation to pull her forward the extra inch and press his lips to hers. “Trust me, Jason. Last time I was rough with you. I had to be. You were fighting me at every turn. This time, it won’t be like that. You know why we’re doing this now. You’ve already come so far. Open yourself up to me.”

  He nodded. What other choice did he have? Her hand on his might as well have been a steel binding. His heart would have skipped out of his chest and slid down his arm to be part of that coupling, the traitor.

  “The only way to conquer a vice is to discover the need it’s trying to fill and fill it with something else. Today, I’m going to find a memory of something that once filled that need, before your vice took hold. One so bright and powerful it will become an anchor, holding you to your true need, keeping you from floating too far toward your vice.”

  “Okay. Why can’t I remember it on my own?”

  “Believe it or not, our minds have a way of shielding us from the good as well as the bad. I’ll be able to remind you of things you may not recall on your own.” Adjusting herself so that her knees touched his, she moved her hands to hover over his heart. “Ready?”

  “Yes,” he said. He wasn’t ready. Not really. But he trusted her.

  She closed her eyes and gently touched his chest.

  At the moment her hands touched Jason’s chest,
Selene felt the familiar shifting as if the rate of the earth revolving on its axis increased threefold. The great room melted away and she stood in the infinite web of pulsing strands that made up his memories. With a jolt, she noticed the dark tangle she’d visited before, the memory of Professor Matthews was lighter in color now, the strands still coiled tightly but not tied in knots like before. He’d accepted the events and was starting to heal emotionally. Good.

  She scanned the web looking for the light. Bright green pulsed above her and she followed it toward a particularly bright spot in his consciousness.

  But when she found the brightest, warmest spot in his memories, she had trouble reaching it. It was all tangled up and hidden by dark sections so that she almost couldn’t tell where the light began and the darkness ended. Reaching out, she folded her hand to navigate the knot until, with surgical precision, her fingers slid over the argent thread at its center. Blinding light surrounded her, transported her, and she found herself standing in a kitchen.

  The smell of baking gingerbread cookies filled her nostrils and the laughter of three teenage siblings met her ears. She knew these kids. The royal family: Silas, Jason, and Laina. Which meant that the woman swaying and humming in front of the stove was their mother. A white candle inside a glass hurricane lamp burned brightly between them, surrounded by an arrangement of greens, red berries, and ribbon. Christmas, she thought.

  “You should take French, Jason. The girls love a man who can speak French,” Silas said. He looked to be eighteen or nineteen and was wearing a Cornell T-shirt.

  “Silas,” the dark-haired girl said, rolling her eyes. Laina. “Jason shouldn’t choose a language to study based on its ability to woo girls. He should be thinking about college and employment opportunities.” Laina rubbed the youngest boy’s shoulders. “Study Spanish or, better yet, Mandarin.”

  Their mother left the stove to plant a kiss on the side of Jason’s head. “Choose what speaks to your heart. If you follow your passion, the universe will find the right place for you.” She ruffled his hair before crossing back to the stove to pull the tray of cookies from the oven.

  “Mom, that’s terrible advice!” Laina said. “Who knows what stupid ideas his heart will come up with? He could end up wasting his time on something utterly useless, like… like Italian.”

  A lanky man with glasses and a hint of gray in his hair strode in and spun Mrs. Flynn around. “Cosa c’è di sbagliato con l’italiano?”

  Mrs. Flynn looked up into her husband’s eyes and adjusted her arms around his neck. She took a deep, contented breath. “Personally, I love Italian,” she whispered into her husband’s lips. The two parents danced between the oven and the kitchen island, drawn into each other as if they were the only two people on the planet.

  Silas groaned. “Ugh! Get a room.” He cupped a hand over his eyes and exchanged awkward glances with his siblings.

  “I have a room,” Mr. Flynn said through a barely restrained smile. “I have an entire house. You just happen to live in it.” They broke into laughter as he spun Mrs. Flynn from his arms.

  After a short peck on her husband’s cheek, she grabbed the tray of cookies and slid them onto the island. “Who’s ready for gingerbread?”

  The three teens popped up and Jason pried a cookie from the tray with his bare fingers, tossing it between his hands to keep them from burning. His face… Selene couldn’t look away. He was so open, so innocent, so trusting. But the predominant feeling, as she stood in this memory, was love. Unconditional love. Familial love.

  This was it. This was his anchor.

  As the memory ended, Selene experienced the familiar rushing fall of her extraction from his consciousness with mixed emotions. She desperately wanted to stay in that kitchen, in that safe place of love and warmth, but it wasn’t her life or her memory. It was Jason’s. Her job was to share it with him, to remind him of the place of love that he came from, the thing he could cling to when the darkness was close at hand.

  Opening her lungs, she took a gasping breath as she broke the surface of deep consciousness. Only after removing her hands from Jason’s chest did she remember she was the only thing holding him up. He slumped toward her. “Shoot. Sorry.” Catching him by the shoulders, she lowered him to the floor, noticing the thick cords of muscle in his arms. He’d gained weight during their time together. He was bigger. Heavier.

  “Jason?”

  He blinked up at her as if waking from a deep sleep. “Did you get it? Do I have… light?”

  “Yes.” She laughed. “You have a strong anchor, a memory so perfect I didn’t want to leave it.”

  He pushed himself up on his elbows.

  “You should have something to eat and drink. Was it as bad as last time? Do you feel nauseous?”

  Jason sat up the rest of the way and rubbed the back of his neck. “Not as bad. I’m groggy but I feel okay.”

  “Come on, I’ll make you some tea.” She held out her hand to him but he rose without her help. Selene thought he looked stronger as he moved past her to the kitchen where he began filling the teapot.

  “So, what was this memory?” he asked. He placed the teapot on the stove and lit the burner.

  “You were fifteen, sitting at the table with Laina and Silas. Your mother was making gingerbread cookies.” Selene paused because Jason had gone ghost white. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I… I think… excuse me.” He strode from the room without another word, leaving Selene staring confusedly into an empty kitchen.

  Chapter 17

  Jason flopped on his bed. Why had it been that memory? As soon as Selene had mentioned the cookies, the day had come back to him, a day he’d felt truly loved. It was one of the last days they were all together. Weeks later, Silas would move back to college and, although there would be visits, they would never live under the same roof again.

  His stomach flipped as he remembered his parents dancing in the kitchen. It was something they’d done often, a quirky thing he’d found embarrassing as a teenager and oddly out of character for his usually stoic father. Now he’d do anything to see his parents dancing.

  Outside his room, he heard Selene digging through his cupboards, pots and pans banging together, cabinet doors opening and closing. He should get up and help her find whatever she was looking for, but he didn’t. He was too busy trying to forget the memory she’d recalled in him. What she didn’t understand was that his happiest memory was now his most brutal reminder of his parents’ murder.

  How could he tell Selene that remembering the source of the light within him was what fueled the darkness? A spray of bullets stole that moment from him in the most brutal way possible, negating it and every happy moment that came before. It was a memory of how everything you loved turned to shit eventually. Worm fodder.

  Suddenly exhausted, he threaded his fingers behind his head, closed his eyes, and forced himself to forget again as he drifted away.

  Gingerbread. The scent was unmistakable and almost overwhelming to his hypersensitive wolf senses. Immediately, the memory came back to him, all its light and its resulting darkness filling him at once.

  “Selene, what have you done?” He scowled. Bounding from the bed, he burst from his room, ready to give her a piece of his mind. But when he reached the kitchen, the sight of her thawed any ice that had formed around his heart.

  She’d donned a dress, the first one he’d ever seen her wear, simple and conservative with a flowing skirt that reached below the knee. Her hair was down, loose curls draped over her shoulders and flowing to the center of her back. And her smile was bright enough to light up the room.

  All he could think was that she was perfect, beautiful, and worthy like an angel dropped down from heaven. Selene pulled a tray of cookies from the oven and turned her violet eyes on him.

  “Who’s ready for some cookies?” she said softly.

  Jason’s throat constricted and a muscle in his jaw twitched. Eyes burning, he crossed to her, a confusing mix
of emotions swirling in his head. He shook her by the shoulders.

  “Oww. Jason, you’re hurting me.”

  A growl emanated from his chest, his wolf lowering its head and baring its teeth. Her eyes widened.

  This close with his hands wrapped around her upper arms, he was more than aware how his size dwarfed hers. He’d gained the weight back, thanks to her, and now he was using it against her.

  Justifiably. She had yanked his chain one too many times.

  “Why would you do this?” he said. “Why would you do this to me?”

  “I… I thought you needed help remembering. I wanted to recreate the moment. Sometimes a smell can bring it back.” She squirmed within his too-tight grip.

  “I remember, Selene. I remember everything about that day,” he said through his teeth. “But did it ever occur to you that that memory holds nothing but pain for me?”

  Tears formed in her eyes. “You’re hurting me,” she whispered.

  He shook her harder. “They’re dead. Every time I think of how perfect our family was, I remember what Alex took from me. He’s still out there somewhere, probably being nursed back to health by an evil dragon bitch, and everything that was right and good about my life is gone. Think about what this means. You are telling me that my core memory, the thing that brings light to my soul, is something I can never have again. How can you believe for a second that I can ever leave my vice behind when the darkness is the only thing holding me together? There’s no hope for anything else. Everything that was good about me is dead.”

  Trembling, Selene twisted from Jason’s grip. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye, carving a path down the slope of her nose to her upper lip. “Everything good about you is not dead,” she said softly. “I wouldn’t be here if I thought the light in you had died.” She rubbed her shoulders, backing away. “Alex didn’t take everything from you. There are still people who believe in you. People who need you.”