by Jory Strong
Kellen lowered the arrow so it pointed to the ground in front of the hag’s cloven hooves. “I propose a trade. Me for her.”
The baoban’s gaze traveled over him, settling at his crotch. He wouldn’t harden for her—would never willingly harden for her. But he could be compelled and they both knew it—his mind clouded by a collar of her hair or the ingestion of her blood.
“How many of your kind are left? How likely is it that you can capture a human male to serve as a stud? Or another of the fey? Though maybe I’m wrong. Did you already use Tobik for the purpose I propose?”
The hag spat. “That weak fool wasn’t worthy enough be my servant, but I sacrificed some of my blood for the convenience he represented. The grig are useful for only two things, creating portals and filling an empty belly.”
Deidra shifted form. “He’s defective. Any offspring he gives you may well end up deformed, as he was deformed at birth.”
The hag’s laugh was like the high-pitched squeal of a hog. “And yet you want him as a mate.”
“I want to rule a kingdom.”
Kellen loosened the tension on the bow string and stepped closer to the baoban. He had to risk a charge from Deidra, who had the silvery-braid of hair threaded through a belt loop.
Another step was all he dared, and then he made a casual show of tossing the bow and arrow down, close enough so that if Analia could get to it… If she could act…
The quiver he dropped at his feet, and then his hands went to his shirt, peeling it off rather than chance that a slow strip would allow Deidra too much time to act. The baoban’s pupils dilated at the prospect of mating.
“How long has it been?” he asked, forcing a husk into his voice when all he felt was revulsion. “Let the human go. I could take her place. I could sate your appetites far better than she can.”
Could. A possibility. Meaning it wasn’t a lie.
The blade pressed to Analia’s neck slid lower to rest across her breasts. “Let me see all of what will belong to me if I do.”
His gaze flicked to Deidra who’d edged forward, the braid now in her hands. “Your pet hound has other ideas of who I’ll belong to. And she won’t share, or take your leavings.”
“Stop,” the hag ordered but Deidra continued forward, probably hoping her actions would get Analia killed. “Stop!” the hag repeated, anger rising in her voice.
Deidra stalked forward, providing an opportunity for the distraction he needed. Kellen shifted to hound form. He charged toward Deidra, counting on instinct taking over—because the human form was no match for the hound’s.
His gamble paid off. Instinct did overwhelm her reason.
Deidra shifted form and the braid, like her clothing, disappeared.
It was a fight to the death and they both knew it.
He lunged toward her throat. Slashed with deadly canines.
Fury and superior strength were his advantages, while fear and the prospect of death lent savagery to Deidra’s lunges.
He opened her flank with a bite. Tore away a patch of skin and fur at her shoulder.
He used snapping teeth and furious lunges to maneuver her around, closer and closer to the hag, until she was finally in the perfect position.
Kellen launched himself at Deidra, exposing throat and chest for the instant before he was on her.
The two of them became a mass of writhing, furious energy.
They slammed into the hag with enough force to send her stumbling away from the throne of bones and toward the fire with its waiting spit.
The baoban couldn’t keep both her balance and her shield. She released Analia, but not soon enough to understand Kellen’s true objective.
The long gown caught fire and she shrieked, as the black-haired hag had shrieked when struck by dragon flame. And Analia, freed, grabbed up the bow and arrow and fired it into the baoban’s chest. Following the first arrow with a second, and a third—forever silencing the hag.
Kellen separated from Deidra. Shifted form and grabbed the hag’s dropped knife.
Deidra leapt, intent on tearing out his throat. But he dodged her deadly canines and drove the blade into her heart.
She was dead before she hit the cave floor.
Relief and satisfaction surging through him, he closed the distance between him and his mate—or she closed the distance. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she was alive, safe, back in his arms.
With the hag’s death, the collar around Analia’s neck withered into particles like fine ash. It fell away from her throat as his mouth slammed down on hers, and he swallowed her cry even as he gave her his own.
The cave and the dead and the stench faded. There was only the two of them, lost in a world of their own making.
Mine! Everything inside him shouted. Mine!
His tongue forged into her mouth, rubbed and twined with hers. He wanted to lift and carry her to a secluded place. Strip her of clothes and tumble her onto hands and elbows then cover her, thrusting into her and locking inside her forever.
Minutes passed, his lips fused to hers, before he found the strength to leave her mouth. His arms tightened around her and he rubbed his cheek against her hair. “I will never lose you again. Never.”
“The others?”
“No deaths, but there are injuries.”
“Gwendolen?”
“She’s fine.”
He touched his forehead to hers, his heart climbing up his throat, his mouth going dry though thankfully his palms didn’t grow damp against her back. “We need to talk.”
She tensed, eliciting a reactive growl. “Do not ever think I’m going to let you go,” he said, only barely suppressing a snarl.
“Okay, I’m listening.” But the tension didn’t leave her.
“There are things you need to know…”
Her hands glided over his back, sending heated need shivering through him and nearly derailing him from keeping the promise he’d made to himself as he’d raced to reach her.
“What things?”
That we’re mated.
But he needed to get the rest of it out first.
Breathing in deeply and releasing that breath slowly, he spoke the easiest truth. “My sire rules the dominant fey hound pack in our realm. I am his only heir.”
She worried her bottom lip, held his gaze and said, “You’re telling me he’s the equivalent of a king, and you’re a prince.”
“In so many words.” He took another deep breath. “It matters only in that you need to know I will never rule. I will never willingly allow you to meet my sire and dam.”
Her gaze softened with caring, not pity. “You’re estranged.”
He shrugged, his throat momentarily locking. Centuries later, all of them spent in the human realm, and he still didn’t like to remember his life among hounds.
“Deidra didn’t lie; I was born with a withered arm.”
“That’s what you meant when you told me that you were born an embarrassment. That’s why you were kept isolated,” she said, eyes shimmering with unshed tears on his behalf.
“The fey come in many shapes and forms, but there’s a distinction between different and imperfect. I was handed off to a nursemaid who was provided with an isolated place in which to raise me. When I was old enough, she returned to the pack and I was left to fend for myself, living or dying as the fates willed.”
“Oh, Kellen,” she said, hugging him tightly, her mouth seeking his to offer comfort.
He allowed himself the barest of kisses, afraid that if he surrendered to the need to take everything she offered, he’d never get the rest of it out.
She didn’t need to know about Cosette and the things he’d overheard her say to Cason so long ago. It no longer mattered.
“I survived. I grew stronger. I gained enough magic that my arm healed but…”
“You’re afraid it’s a genetic trait that will be passed on?”
“No.” He’d never been afraid of that despite what the women
who’d tried to become his mate said or thought. What he was really afraid of was not being wanted for himself, of discovering he was a means to an end, that any affection given to him was feigned.
Most terrifying was the prospect of opening himself up to a mate and by doing it, giving her the power to tear out his heart and sunder his soul.
“I’ve always sworn I would never take a mate,” he said, “I…”
“Am afraid of being hurt,” she finished for him. “It comes with the territory. I’m afraid of being hurt, too. But love is worth the risk. When the baoban forced me to run here, I promised myself that if you came after me, if we survived, I’d tell you that I’ve fallen in love with you.”
“I promised myself the same.”
He found her mouth, plundered it with the pressure of his lips against hers and the thrust of his tongue. Kissed her until they were both breathing hard.
There was no easy way to break it to her. No reason to delay.
“We’re mated. Bound together by magic.”
Analia’s heart soared. “Last night?”
She’d thought something was different.
“Yes.”
“I didn’t imagine it, did I? The craving? The need to be touching you, as if my survival depends on—”
“Soaking in fey magic,” he finished for her, guilt in his expression. “I should have asked you. I should have—”
She stopped him with the press of her lips and the twine of her tongue against his, conveyed with a multitude of kisses the depth of happiness at finding herself mated to him.
Long moments passed before she lifted her mouth from his. “Fair warning, I’m still going to expect you to show up for our wedding.”
He laughed. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. And speaking of missing things, as much as I’d like to find a spot and make love to you, I don’t want there to be any regrets on your part. Shall we catch up to the others at the sacred lake?”
She rubbed her mouth against his and smiled. He already knew her well.
She’d never regret a moment spent with him, but to have accepted the charms from the old man and embarked on this journey, she would regret not seeing it to its conclusion.
“Let’s catch up to them.”
“I think I can get us there faster by traveling a different route, though it’ll be a steeper climb.”
“Faster is better.”
The heated look he sent her expressed his agreement.
He guided her back into what soon seemed like an endless orchard.
This time, instead of winding, upward paths, they traveled along paths used by wild animals.
The air grew crisper and the foliage thinner the higher they got.
Slowly Analia saw more and more of the sky. And finally, there was only sky above them.
They emerged onto a lush plateau. It stretched out in front of them, a velvety green carpet dotted with clusters of purple and white, pink and orange and yellow flowers. It made her think of an immense altar. But she frowned and said, “I thought there’d be a lake.”
“It’s ahead of us.”
Sudden fear made her ask, “Where are the others?”
He took her hand and squeezed. “There’s too much ambient magic for me to sense or scent them, but there’s no need for worry. Crew will have ensured their safety.”
The two of them crossed the plateau at an angle. In places the grass reached Analia’s knees.
Each inhalation brought the smell of flowers. And occasionally they startled flocks of birds.
The small blue birds flew up from the ground like bevies of quail on Earth. And if she and Kellen skirted too close to the clusters of yellow flowers, iridescent dragonflies sped away.
Analia breathed deeply and tried to imprint everything about the place into her memory. And even though she believed Kellen when it came to the others, she still felt a surge of relief when they reached the edge of the plateau and she looked down and saw them sprawled out, as if sunbathing on crystal that reflected the color of the sky and lake.
Some were splinted and bandaged, their clothes torn and bloody, but they were alive. Gwendolen scrambled to her feet and waved. Shouted, “They’re here! They’re here!”
Analia’s heart smiled at the welcome, expanding so wide it filled her chest and momentarily blocked out the splendor. But then she took in the view and could only say wow, though that was a vast understatement.
The sparkling crystal that Gwendolen and the others stood on was actually a wide ledge, one of many that formed steps.
Toward the right, the steps led to a serene lake. Toward the left, they led across the cliff wall to a waterfall.
It cascaded downward, defying the physics of Earth with its placement and silence.
Its origin was the lip of the plateau, as if the magic in this world fell as rain on the plain they’d just crossed, then flowed to this particular spot to pour quietly into the lake. Quietly, because there was no rush and crash of water against cliffsides, no pounding impact when it reached its destination.
“When I first saw the charm,” Analia murmured, “I thought about plunging waterfalls and serene lakes set high in the mountains.”
Kellen pressed a kiss to her temple. “You’ve got a hint of psychic ability, or perhaps some genetic connection to this world.”
Analia felt a little thrill. “A descendent of Edea?”
“Possibly. Who knows? Shall we join the others?”
She squeezed his hand in reply and took the first step toward the ledge where the others waited, wishing for safety railings. She’d probably survive the plunge to the lake, probably—it wouldn’t be so much a dive from an Acapulco cliff as the drop from an Olympic platform.
She stayed against the wall, close enough that every few steps her shoulder rubbed against the smooth crystal. Kellen grinned, taking up the outside position and walking only inches from the edge.
“Showoff,” she muttered.
“Just protecting my mate. If fear gets the upper hand and you pass out, I’m here to catch you.”
My mate. She loved the sound of that, then had to laugh.
“I didn’t do too badly when it came to acquiring a supernatural mate. I got one for twenty-three-dollars, the price of the two charms. That’s a bargain compared to the grand Saffron kept me from putting on my credit card at another vendor’s stall.”
Kellen turned and trapped her against the cliff wall with arms on either side of her. He leaned in, growled against her throat. “It would have ended very badly for any other male. I already had your scent.”
A quick sucking bite to her neck and he released her to continue downward. A few minutes later they reached the others.
Analia was immediately engulfed in Gwendolen’s enthusiastic hug. She closed her eyes rather than lose her nerve at the proximity of the drop.
Crew said, “Now that you’ve arrived, we can get this task finished.”
Analia opened her eyes, assuming they’d go to the right, down to the lake. But Dugald, the pouch at his waist bulging with the returned crystal, went left, toward the waterfall.
It might defy physics when it came to location and sound, but not so much when it came to energy. The closer they got, the more Analia felt as if a force pushed against her like a silent roar.
They reached the edge of the waterfall and Dugald didn’t hesitate. He led them through the curtain of water.
The ledge was wider, and if they’d been on Earth, there would have been initials with plus signs inside of hearts carved into the stone behind the waterfall. But here, crystal that reflected sky and water became translucent green, and there was only a heart-shaped hole carved from the cliff.
It made sense, Analia realized as soon as she saw it, that Nizzo and Edea would have taken the crystal from a place not readily seen.
Dugald removed the heart-shaped artifact from the pouch. He touched it to his lips as he had when he’d held the two charms at the fire circle.
He murmure
d words Analia didn’t understand, then passed it to a son, who duplicated his father’s actions.
The artifact was passed from person to person, from generation to generation until finally Gwendolen held it. She hugged it to her chest, then touched it to her lips, offering one final invocation before standing on tiptoes and sliding the heart into the cliff wall.
Water immediately ceased to hide them from the lake below. It was as if by inserting the missing piece of crystal, magic had damned the waterfall.
Analia’s hand tightened on Kellen’s, and though his expression didn’t reveal it, she felt his sudden tension and knew he didn’t expect this particular outcome.
The crystal fused together to become all of one piece.
Analia breathed a sigh of relief, though her relief was short-lived.
Gwendolen pointed and said, “Look.”
Analia looked and felt her stomach lurch. The ledges that had formed steps across the face of the canyon wall leading to the waterfall were gone, as were those leading from the plateau down to the lake.
“Sentient magic,” Kellen murmured.
Gellawin nodded. “When the elders convened last night, several us thought access to the lake might be denied us, at least for a time.”
Gwendolen took Dugald’s hand. Her voice quavered just a little bit when she asked, “What’s going to happen to us when we jump into the lake?”
Because obviously, that was the only way down.
The elder, who was most likely her great-grandfather, said, “I believe we’ll return to the fire circle, and our guests will return to whatever destination they hold in their mind when they enter the water.”
“Like a portal,” Gwendolen said, clearly awed.
“Like a portal,” Dugald confirmed.
He squeezed her hand then released it to reach into the pouch and retrieve what looked like three apple seeds. The first he offered to Crew, the second to Kellen, and the third to Analia.
When she took it, he clasped her hand between his. “You will always be welcome among us. Plant the seed and tend to the tree that grows from it. When you wish to visit, we will come for you.” To Kellen and Crew he said, “You can now easily find your way here.”