Restoration

by Randi Cooley Wilson

  I’m unsure how much time passes. It might be hours that I’ve hidden myself in the lavender-scented bubbles, allowing my muscles to relax in the warmth of the water. A few more of my injuries have healed, but my body is still more black and purple than cream.

  Sadly, the water has turned from tepid and inviting to cool and uncomfortable. I pull the drain, carefully step out of the tub, and gently wrap myself in a fluffy towel. A set of fresh clothes, hair products, and makeup lay on the counter. I smile gratefully, though I don’t recall Helena coming back in to place the items down. Damn gargoyles.

  I take the tags off the new bra and panty set, throw on the black yoga pants, and cocoon myself in the warmth of the long cowl-neck sweater and matching socks. I pull on my black knee-high boots and address my hair before lightly applying some mascara and lipgloss to my battered face.

  Once I deem myself presentable, I open the door to find an older woman standing by the fireplace, throwing more logs onto the flames. At my presence, she turns and smiles warmly.

  “Hello, Eve. I’m Tabatha, Griffin’s wife and mate.” Her waist-length, straight gray hair sways as she dips her head regally at me. “Our clan is honored to have you in our home.”

  I return her welcome with a small smile of my own. It never occurred to me that the other clan leaders, like Griff, have mates. “It’s nice to meet you too. Thank you for having me.”

  “I trust Helena has been taking care of your needs?”

  I nod once. “She has been extremely gracious.”

  “Wonderful.” Tabatha motions for me to come to her, then points at the tray of food Helena left. “You should eat something,” she suggests. Her eyes roam over my face, taking in the purple bruises from Lord Falk’s backhand. “I know you’re human, however, nourishment will help you to regain your strength and heal faster,” she points out, handing me some grapes.

  “Thanks.” I shake the bunch. “You aren’t Scottish?”

  Tabatha releases a light laugh. “Nope. American, like you. Hence the lack of an accent.”

  She waves to two leather chairs positioned in front of the stone hearth and we both take a seat. I wince as my ribs protest. “Griffin doesn’t seem the type to marry an American,” I tease, remembering his long beard and Viking-like appearance.

  “Griff is rough around the edges, but soft and sweet inside. Like those grapes.” She points to the wine-colored fruit before holding up a roll of gauze. I eyeball her curiously. “By the way you’re grimacing as you move, I’m guessing your ribs are broken. Unfortunately, it is going to take your mate’s healing energy to fix them. I’d be happy to wrap them for you, if you’d allow me to, so they don’t hurt as much while you wait for Asher to come.”

  I swallow the juice from the fruit and nod. “Sure. Thanks.”

  Tabatha cocks her head. “We’re technically clan, Eve. You must stop thanking me for doing what we naturally do for our own.”

  Family. “Of course. I’m sorry.”

  Her hand wraps itself around mine before she squeezes. “I’m very glad Asher has found someone to love in you. That unto itself makes you very special.”

  After what feels like an eternity of pain, Tabatha gently releases the hem of my sweater and runs a long hand over the back of my hair in a soothing and maternal gesture.

  “Well done. I know that was painful,” she encourages.

  My mouth opens to thank her but loud shouting and commotion outside the room pulls each of our focuses toward the door. It bursts open, revealing one very pissed off gargoyle. My very pissed off gargoyle. I exhale and curb the need to sob like a baby at the sight of him.

  Asher pauses in the doorway, his deep blue eyes flashing with emotion as he inspects me. His eyes fixate on the purple mark decorating my right cheek. After a drawn out moment, he lifts both his hands, running them over his face and through his hair, before linking them behind his head. A number of expletives fall out of his mouth in rapid succession.

  Rulf visibly pales at Asher’s reaction, standing behind him with Gage and Sean flanking him. My gaze meets Gage’s. He’s wearing an unreadable expression. Sean and Rulf begin whispering in harsh tones and my focus shifts back to my protector.

  Asher just stares at me, holding my gaze to his. He looks worried and relieved at the same time. I know he needs a moment to compose his anger, but all I want to do is run into his arms. My body is too exhausted from the pain Lord Falk imparted. I can barely stand.

  Asher’s eyes flash again, this time with fury as he shouts. “EVERYONE OUT!”

  At the order, silence falls across the group. Everyone seems to be unsure of what to do.

  “Your Highness.” Tabatha steps toward Asher, placing her palms up. “As you can see, Eve is fine and well cared for. She has eaten, had a warm bath, and was just about to rest.”

  Her words seem to penetrate whatever caused Asher to snap. I watch as his shoulders release some of their tension. My mate’s focus swings to her, and his expression takes on an appreciative look. “Thank you, Tabatha.” He swallows with difficulty.

  “Family first, always.” She dips her head respectfully before stepping around Asher. Spreading her arms, she ushers the others out of the room.

  At the clicking of the door, I drag my gaze up and meet Asher’s from across the room. The gravity of the past few days finally hits me, and unexpectedly, I no longer have control over my emotions. Tears sting my eyes and begin to fall down my cheeks as a loud sob releases from my throat. In four strides, Asher is standing in front of me, cupping my cheeks.

  “I’m sorry, siren,” he whispers. “I’m so fucking sorry.” His voice is a hoarse whisper.

  My body trembles, overcome with emotion, and all I can do is continue to weep. Asher wipes away the endless tears with his thumbs before his arms circle around me, crushing me to him and causing me to discharge a painful scream.

  Startled at my reaction, he releases me. I inhale roughly, still holding my ribs. After watching me for a second, Asher’s palms land on my damp cheeks, compelling my focus back to his.

  “What the fuck, siren?” His voice cracks.

  I release a slow breath, trying to gain control of the tenderness. Noticing my ache, Asher’s gaze is everywhere on my body. No doubt taking in the purple marks on my face, hands, neck—his eyes hone in on my ribs before snapping back to mine.

  “Show me,” he implores softly while his hands snake into my hair, holding me in place.

  Transfixed by his stare, I stand unmoving. I soak him in, telling myself this is real and he’s really here with me. Pain flashes across his striking features, knowing what I’m doing.

  My hands shake as my fingers move to the hem of my sweater, but he shakes his head.

  “We’re mated now. Show. Me.”

  I frown at what he’s asking. During our visit to the Eternal Forest, Callan explained that gargoyles only allow their mates access to the private connection of their mind and memories, because once it’s opened, it can’t be closed.

  Asher’s grip tightens in my hair and his forehead meets mine. “Show me,” he whispers.

  I pull in an unsteady breath and am hit with the reality of our bond. I place the tips of my fingers along his stubble-covered jawline and focus all of my energy on my psyche, listening to Asher’s heartbeat and syncing my pace with his.

  My mental focus drifts into his mind. He opens the invisible door, and instantly, I’m in his consciousness. Feeling his emotions. Hearing his thoughts. Seeing the mental pictures of his mind’s eye. I experience just how raw and passionate his love for me is.

  With my guard down, he crosses into my thoughts, accessing my mind. Seeking out the images he’s searching for. I absorb the pure bliss of being one with him before I visually relive what happened with Lord Falk. I grant him open access to all the memories, with the exception of Rulf’s involvement, up until he walked in the door.

  When I’m finished, I feel Asher slowly pull himself out of my head, releasing control over the recol
lections. I sense his emotions as they become hot with rage. I stand shaky and distraught as I watch his expression turn into pure and unadulterated hate.

  Callan was right, the intensity of experiencing Asher’s emotions as one being is breathtaking. I can’t distinguish his feelings from mine. It’s almost impossible to decipher where he begins and I end. Even with our minds separated, our connection is now open and constant. I dare to meet his eyes, filled with raw and ravenous love for me.

  “I heard you,” he admits quietly.

  “I know. I saw. Is that part of our new connection?”

  “Yes. We can hear and decipher one another’s thoughts.”

  “That’s why you threw everyone out?”

  “You said your body was exhausted from the pain Lord Falk imparted. That you could barely stand,” he speaks in a low voice and shakes his head.

  “What?” I ask, meeting his pained eyes.

  “Hearing it, versus seeing it, are two completely fucking different things, siren.”

  Asher’s eyes squeeze shut while he calms his breathing. When they reopen, they’re softer. “I’m here now.” His tone is gentle, though it doesn’t match his tense shoulders and trembling body. “I’m here now,” he repeats. “It’s over, siren.”

  After witnessing what I suffered, I wonder if he’s trying to soothe me, or himself.

  With a very gentle tug, he pulls me to him, still holding my head between his strong hands. “I’m going to heal you,” he whispers across my lips. “And then, I’m going to hunt down Lord Falk and end his existence for laying a fucking hand on you.” His tone is smooth and calm, but his controlled rage rolls off of him in waves.

  His lips press to mine but don’t move. Asher stays deathly still, allowing us to just be one, connected. In this moment, his presence suffocates the room, sucking the air out of it and me.

  Hot tears continue to push against my eyelids, threatening to leak out again.

  Asher pulls back and his gaze penetrates through each layer of me until he hits my soul. “I was created to protect, but you’ve changed that. You’ve given me something to fight for.”

  “Ash—” I whisper.

  “It’s time to fight for us. It’s time to finish this. This. Ends. Now.”

  Chapter 16

  War of Worlds

  I ignore the cold that has seeped into my bones at his absence. I shake my head, determined not to reveal how truly affected I am that Asher’s not lying next to me. My reaction seems childish and ridiculous. Instead, I remind myself of war, of the fact that Lord Falk and the council members need to be dealt with, and that we still need to find Deacon and Garrick, and stop the dark army.

  With a determined resolve, I sit up and make my way into the bathroom to freshen up and dress. It’s been four days since Asher arrived. We’ve been in and out of healing sleeps for three of those days. On the fourth, Asher began meeting with the clans and devising strategies for hunting down Lord Falk.

  I sigh into the mirror and run my hairbrush through my hair. Most of my outward bruises and wounds have healed. My ribs are still sore from being kicked multiple times while broken, but I’m able to finally move. I’m stronger, physically. Mentally—that’s another story all together. I put down the brush and leave to seek out Asher.

  As I take the last step to the first floor, I watch the commotion of the supernatural beings floating around Griffin’s castle. The hum in the air is different today, purposeful.

  “Good morning, Eve,” Tabatha greets me at the bottom of the staircase.

  “Hi. Have you seen Asher?” I question, not really needing the answer. I can feel him.

  “He’s in the study with the clan leaders. They’re going over some plans.” She lifts her chin toward a long hallway. “I’ve just had the plates refilled with breakfast. Help yourself.”

  “Thanks.” I smile and head to find my mate.

  My mark pulses in excitement, with tiny throbs, as I get closer to the double doors guarding the study. I push them open and slip into strategy central. Sensing my presence, Asher lifts his stare from what he’s studying. He watches me make my way to him, looking over me with a prideful expression. Ignoring the other beings in the room, I stalk over to him and fold myself into his side.

  “Morning, siren,” he murmurs in my ear. “You’re looking much better.”

  “I feel much better,” I reply.

  Asher’s lips brush my neck, and in response, a dull glow emanates from my skin. The warmth of his breath ripples through me, causing me to shiver. I feel his mouth form a smile against my skin, pleased with my reaction to him.

  “If we were alone, I’d throw you down on this table and ravish you,” he says at my ear.

  “Christ. You’re not alone,” Gage snaps. “You are, however, in a room full of supernatural beings, all of whom have excellent hearing.”

  Asher releases a light chuckle, and my cheeks turn red from embarrassment when I look up to see the watchful eyes of the rest of the room. I sigh, leaning into Asher.

  We really do need our own place.

  Someday, siren.

  Startled at Asher’s voice suddenly inside my head, I spin in his arms and stare at him with wide eyes. He offers me a sexy smirk, bending his knees slightly so we’re at eye level.

  “Mate connection,” he reminds, using a tone that sends my stomach fluttering.

  “I’m not going to lie to you, Ash. That is pretty fucking freaky,” I exhale.

  He laughs gently before his lips dip in for a quick peck. “Freaky, but awesome.”

  My eyes fall to his Adam’s apple. It’s so damn sexy. Who knew a man’s throat could cause me to go into such a lust-filled state. A playful smile appears on Asher’s lips at my thoughts, which he can now hear. Crap. I lift my gaze, giving him my full attention.

  “I can’t even begin to tell you how inappropriate and intrusive it is to read my thoughts.”

  He steps closer into my personal space, stealing the air around me. Air I need to breathe in order to think straight. “You have yet to experience the level of inappropriate and intrusive things I’ll be sharing with you.” He smiles darkly at me. Good lord.

  I hold his piercing stare until a throat being cleared pulls us out of our moment.

  “It’s always so nice to see a newly mated couple eye fucking one another with my morning coffee,” Callan muses.

  My skin heats at the comment, but Asher and I just hold one another’s gaze. There has always been an amazing friction between us, but now, with the mate bond complete, the electrical charge flickers brighter, more powerful. Unwavering as the air between us heats and sparks with raw carnal desire.

  “Well, I for one think it’s romantic,” Marcus, leader of the Manhattan clan, states loudly from the doorway. He sashays over to us and pulls me into a tight embrace. “Eve.”

  “Hi.” I squeak out and pull him in tighter.

  A low growl emits from Asher’s chest and Marcus chuckles at the sound.

  “Easy, gargoyle. As much as I love your mate, she isn’t my type. You, on the other hand,” he jests and reaches for Asher. “Congratulations. The ceremony was lovely and I’m happy that you two have found your way back to one another.”

  Asher smiles as they pull out of their hold. “Thanks, man.”

  Marcus rubs his hands together, giddily. “All right. I’m here. Let the war of worlds begin.”

  At his words, I bristle, reminded of why we are here. My stomach clenches as a dangerous foreboding sensation settles into it. Asher leans forward, placing a kiss on the top of my head before stepping away to address the room with Keegan and Callan flanking each side.

  “Many of you have witnessed the foul evil Lord Falk placed upon my mate. A personal attack.” Asher’s eyes flick to mine, softening for a moment before becoming hard again. “Gage was just in County Kerry and has confirmed the entire council has been murdered at Lord Falk’s hands. There is no doubt in my mind, Deacon and my father assisted.”

  �
�Aye. ’greed young prince,” Griffin replies.

  “We can no longer wait for the war to come to us. My brothers and I feel it’s time to engage. The leaders in this room are responsible for our race’s survival. It is our job, our duty, and our obligation, to not only protect mankind, but also our own. Over the course of the last few months, the supernatural worlds have been attacked. Realms have fallen. Kings have risen. Love has been sacrificed. It ends today. The skies will darken, but we will not run. We will fight. And if need be, we will fall to fate.”

  The entire room erupts in agreement and encouragement at Asher’s words.

  “What are you proposing?” Marcus inquires.

  “A gala,” Asher answers and the room falls silent, listening intently. “Celebrating love.”

  Keegan steps forward, addressing the room. “My brother is the rightful heir. He was to be appointed king when he fulfilled Eve’s protector assignment by the council. A ruling body of which all but two members have ceased to exist. Our father, the current king, has risen from the dead. His arrogance and pride won’t allow another king to be ordained while he still breathes.” Keegan slides his solemn gaze to Asher. “Even if that gargoyle is his own flesh and blood.”

  “Dad does love a party,” Callan interjects.

  “I’m not following. Asher has yet to finish his assignment,” Marcus adds.

  Keegan looks to me, then Asher, before addressing the room again. “Technically, he has. Michael and the Angelic Council were not as forthcoming with Asher’s role in Eve’s protection as we had originally understood.”

  Abby’s face pinches in confusion. “Meaning?”

  Asher steps forward. “Meaning that a divination of redemption was outlined, altering our bloodlines. The request of my protection was never just about safeguarding the daughter of Heaven. Eve’s existence was not designed to end the war, but instead, to combine our families’ lineages, mixing the blood of Heaven with the blood of the dragon spirit. In doing so, as long as she and I exist, as one, Heaven’s gates are safe from further attacks of the dark army.”