Fate of the Fallen (The Lost Royals Saga Book 5)

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Fate of the Fallen (The Lost Royals Saga Book 5) Page 5

by Rachel Jonas


  This experience … was different. The energy that fed my dragon was mine, but … not. It was hard to explain, but I felt it without a doubt. It was stronger, more focused.

  More vicious.

  Without thought, I laid down five more, freeing arms and limbs from bodies, tossing them into a growing heap behind me. Before long, the commotion that had suddenly roared to life around us, lulled to the muffled whimper of one soldier as Dallas snapped his spine in two.

  We stood surveying as we caught our breath, counting bodies, losing track because most were in pieces.

  “Well, I believe that’s everyone.” All eyes went to Josiah when he spoke.

  We were all pretty sure that was the case. After one last scan, I pulled my shirt over my head. Unlike the blood-slathered front, the back was mostly stain-free. I used it to wipe myself somewhat clean, but mostly just smeared lycan blood all over myself.

  It was a slight improvement, though.

  Slight.

  Beside me, Richie sighed before speaking. “Now to figure out which one has the keys to that truck outside.”

  My gaze shifted toward him. “Is this a new plan?” I asked.

  He shrugged, following my lead as he removed his shirt to wipe a mixture of blood and sweat from his face. “Not necessarily. Just seems counterproductive to leave them with all their supplies. My guess is others will be arriving by no later than morning to start building … whatever this is,” he said, gesturing toward the large, steel-framed glass we watch them lug in.

  Ben chimed in next. “They can’t build what they don’t have.”

  “And what they don’t build, they can’t use against us,” Dallas added.

  Richie nodded, realizing we’d begun to see the logic. “Exactly. So, let’s find these keys so we—”

  There was a sound.

  One I heard half a second before spotting the source … a dark object that cut through the air, streaking across the warehouse at warp speed. What came next was a deep, primitive roar that ricocheted off the aluminum walls that surrounded us.

  Ivan’s body slumped to the ground and it was second nature for his brothers and me to shield him with our own. He’d been hit with an arrow.

  There was no sign of the attacker, so with a second to assess Ivan’s condition, where he’d been hit, I glanced back. The puncture wound had just begun to ooze, but what stood out even more was how it sizzled around the metal shaft. I could only guess the agony it caused as Ivan grunted, gritted his teeth so loudly it rivaled the volume of his roar. This was no ordinary arrow.

  Something wasn’t right.

  “It’s just his shoulder,” Declan observed, only turning toward Ivan a second before scanning for the perpetrator again. I noted the angle from which the arrow had been released.

  Second level balcony. Right over the railing

  “Keep an eye on him,” I called out, sprinting toward the steps, leaping over two and three at a time.

  Whoever had done this, whoever thought it wise to injure one of my brothers … they’d pay.

  It was hard to hear over the sound of Ivan’s voice when he yelled out. It bounced off the hard, metallic surfaces and back again, seeming to come from everywhere. Unable to rely on sound, I leaned heavier on my other senses.

  Dragons weren’t known for their sense of smell, but unfortunately for this guy, mine had become keener in the last twenty-four-hours. The scent of sweat and fear filled my nostrils when I breathed deep, pinpointing exactly where to find him. I bounded across the metal grates that linked together to form the floor. When I sent a steel barrel flying over the rail, down to the lower level, I had the bastard’s full attention.

  He’d chosen the wrong day to be brave. This could’ve all been avoided if he’d just let us leave and stayed hidden.

  But now, his pride was about to cost him his life.

  He wasn’t ready to give up. I knew as much when his biceps swelled and burst through the sleeves of his shirt. I had him off the ground and hoisted in the air before he realized shifting was now too little too late. Doing so would only make killing him more interesting, but it wouldn’t stop me.

  He’d nearly finished transforming into his wolf when I brought his weight down from where I held him above my head, aligning the center of his mass with my knee.

  The crunch of his vertebrae brought an end to the struggle. I tossed him aside, but stopped before rushing down to check in on Ivan who seemed to be in even more pain now than when he was first hit.

  I needed an arrow, one to take back to Hilda to analyze and fix whatever had just been done to Ivan. If it was as I suspected, if we were going to assess whether it was in fact laced with magic, having one in our possession was imperative.

  Pulling one of the two from the dead lycan’s quiver, I rushed down to Ivan’s side. Declan peered up as he held his brother’s hand through the agony.

  “I removed the shaft, but he’s not healing,” he uttered with a shaken voice.

  “We have to get him back. Fast,” I called out.

  “Found the keys,” Kyle piped, pulling them from the pocket of a dead lycan.

  Declan, Caleb, Ethan, and I carried Ivan to the truck while the others made quick work of loading the supplies we agreed should be taken off Sebastian’s hands.

  Tonight was mostly a success, but as I watched my brother writhing in pain, uncertain what lie ahead for him, I was left to wonder … had it been worth the cost?

  Chapter Five

  Evie

  It was him.

  I’d know that face, his presence, anywhere.

  Frozen in time, Liam stood in the doorway of a room I didn’t recognize. One I felt I knew despite never having been in this place. Stone walls with evenly spaced torches mounted, casting odd shadows.

  The familiarity of it all was both unsettling and a comfort.

  I was aware it was night even before turning to face the terrace—an open space framed with pillars and ivory-colored sheers that billowed in the breeze. Beyond it, an inky abyss dotted with twinkling stars held my undivided attention.

  Until he said my name.

  “…Evangeline.”

  I turned toward him then, feeling emotions I didn’t understand—anger … lust.

  That one, in particular, I seemed to be resisting most.

  Both arms crossed my chest as I stared in defiance, but never spoke.

  My lack of response made him smirk, a devilish grin that rested on his lips as he scanned the length of me. It was a sweeping look that dragged up my bare leg that peeped out from a slit in a thin, white garment, to my waist cinched by a brown, leather strip, to my chest where the material crossed before tying around my neck.

  Where was I?

  Or … when was I?

  His clothing stood out to me now, too—a top with loose sleeves that hid the defined muscle just beneath them, dark pants that clung to toned thighs before disappearing inside boots the same shade.

  I looked him over much like he’d done to me. The buttons of his shirt were undone, and my gaze lingered there, on the rolling hills of a tight abdomen I could practically feel against my palms.

  Time seemed relative in this bizarre trance, or … dream maybe. I recalled drifting off while awaiting an update from Liam while he and the guys followed the lead to Ridge Borough, but this didn’t quite feel like a dream.

  It felt real.

  Two words left Liam’s mouth and I gave him every ounce of my attention. “Forgive me.”

  I blinked, swallowed hard, blinked again.

  “My behavior tonight was inexcusable. I saw him touch you and … I lost myself,” he admitted, fondling the point of a blade holstered at his hip.

  I continued to bridle my tongue, finding these circumstances vaguely familiar. Like … déjà vu.

  “It’s my sworn duty to protect you,” he went on, “both physically and in reputation.”

  I scoffed when he finished. “And, in your opinion, being kissed by the son of a duke would mar
my reputation? Better yet, striking him was a sensible solution?”

  The sound of my voice startled me because these were not my thoughts. It was as if I sat off to the side listening to a recording despite feeling present.

  The sudden tension in Liam’s brow made it obvious my cynicism irritated him.

  “I said … I apologize,” he muttered slowly.

  Ignoring his attempt at smoothing over what I guessed to be a disagreement, I spoke to him sharply.

  “You had no right! What I do, nor whom I do it with, are any of your concern.”

  He chuckled, finding something I said amusing.

  “I didn’t come here to argue,” he insisted. As soon as the words left his mouth, he turned to leave.

  A strange mix of frustration and desperation filled me, and I took a step in his direction. Then, a question left my mouth. “Why?”

  That simple phrase halted his steps, but he didn’t turn again to face me. Instead, I was left to stare at broad shoulders that heaved as he lingered in the narrow corridor.

  “Why what?” he countered.

  “Why do you … care?” My voice quaked and I was certain he heard it, too.

  With each breath, my chest strained against the material that sparsely covered it. Inside, my heart hammered a mile a minute and all I could think as I watched him was … don’t go.

  The words never came out, but they were felt.

  “I thought I already made this clear,” Liam seethed. “I stopped him because protecting you is my duty,” he reasoned. “It’s what I do.”

  Defiance rose within me and I couldn’t fight the urge to push—to push him to the edge where he’d have to say more, would have to say the words I didn’t have the courage to admit myself.

  “Your duty? And nothing else?”

  He stood in silence a moment before turning to face me as he replied. “What more would you like to hear, Evangeline?”

  “The truth.” My swift response rendered him speechless.

  Heavy steps echoed against the stone walls and high ceiling when he came closer, his gaze never leaving me when he spoke.

  “There’s nothing more to say. Nothing you don’t already know if you’re honest with yourself,” he accused.

  We were so close now. Close enough that heat from his skin danced over my own.

  “I’m in love with you,” he blurted, no sign of fear or waning confidence in sight as he said more. “I’ve always loved you.”

  A breath hitched in my throat as his advancing steps caused me to take several back into the room I’d been coaxed out of by desperation.

  Desperation to stop him from leaving.

  Desperation to hear him say these very words.

  That breath I held breezed over my lips when large hands took my waist, making it impossible to escape him.

  “So, forgive me,” he repeated. “Forgive me for falling in love and not being able to stand the sight of you with another man.”

  Hearing him speak his truth, like a man with nothing to lose, I knew that was exactly how he felt. He had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

  Me.

  My heart—something I was certain he had long before I willingly admitted it.

  Without a second thought, I allowed him to enter the room, knowing what he’d expect if I latched the heavy, wooden door behind him. However, I did it anyway, because his assumptions would have been accurate.

  This strange space between reality and fiction felt like we owned it. Only us. No one else.

  Smooth skin met my fingers when I moved them beneath the lapel of his shirt, pushing the material down his shoulders and arms until it fell to the floor. There, dark ink covered his skin, confirming what I already knew. This wasn’t real. Couldn’t have been. Those markings were erased when Elise resurrected him, but …

  As my fingers moved over the curves and sharp edges of symbols etched in my memory, it certainly felt real.

  A soft kiss pressed to my lips and I kissed him back, my eyes staying open as I stared, finding it hard to believe he had the audacity to touch me like this. Finding it hard to believe I dared to let him.

  Those lips moved to my neck, causing heat to scatter everywhere—up my back, my legs … all over. The room went dark when the relief of finally giving in forced my eyes closed. Each step we took toward the bed was a reminder of the many reasons we should have resisted one another, why I should have let him walk away when he tried.

  “What if Father finds out?”

  The concern escaped my lips as a breathy sigh when the fabric against my chest loosened, and then fell away. The next thing that touched my flesh was his—two warm palms, anxious fingers.

  I’d nearly forgotten my own question when Liam answered it.

  “There’s still time to stop,” he crooned against my ear. “… if that’s what you want.”

  The response was almost laughable as he tugged the belt free from my waist, flinging it carelessly as I brought him down on top of me—the softness of me pressed against the never-ending firmness of him. The mattress cradled us, and our want for one another nearly swallowed us whole.

  He was all heat and passion. From head to toe. Even the lingering fear of being caught wasn’t enough to stop things from moving forward.

  What if someone came looking for us?

  What if they heard us?

  Those concerns, and any that followed, evaporated around us like the steam rolling off our now-naked bodies. Flames threatened to blaze bright just beneath the surface of our skin, but we held it in, dispersing the unvented aggression in other ways.

  At the thought, a firm grip seized my hip and the rough motion brought a satisfied smile to my lips. The next second … I was his, being claimed by my warrior for the first time.

  I panted unashamedly as his rhythm, the power behind his every move, took my breath away. Despite a vehement effort to control myself, his name lingered on the tip of my tongue, and finally slipped from my lips to his ears. The sound of which stoking the passion between us.

  Where my hands stretched above, gripping his chest, embers glowed just beneath them where we fought to contain our flames. Our dragons had responded in kind as our physical bodies connected, forming an intimate bond that ran deeper than any words could ever express. This act of passion proved something. Something I hadn’t questioned in a long time.

  Every bit of who I was belonged to him.

  *

  Gentle kisses to my forehead, cheek, and finally my lips roused me awake.

  “Morning, beautiful.”

  That deep, melodic voice made me grin and I hadn’t even opened my eyes yet.

  Half dazed, I blinked sleepily into his hazel stare, that handsomely rugged face I’d just seen in a dream. It comforted me through the night while he’d been away on a mission with my brothers, Dallas.

  “I missed you,” I groaned, inching closer for another kiss. He returned it with two more. Remnants of the night’s fantasy still left my heart racing just being close to him now, and I guessed it would for a while.

  Wet hair and fresh clothes meant he showered before waking me. I’d been worried sick about him, but wanted him to think I hadn’t let my nerves get the best of me. I didn’t like the idea of them being out there all night, chasing after the Sovereign but understood.

  From what I could see, Liam was unharmed. Or, at least whatever injuries he did have were healed now. Still, I didn’t want to think about that, him getting hurt.

  He seemed … distant, like his mind was elsewhere. At the feel of my hand against his cheek his wandering gaze settled on me.

  “What is it?” I asked quietly, doing my best to hide the fear I felt in regards to what his answer might be.

  When it took him a moment to respond, I knew. Knew something had gone wrong.

  “ … Liam.”

  He looked away, this time not bothering to pretend everything was okay.

  “You can’t get worked up,” he said in the most soothing voice he
could manage. “We have to be careful of that now, in your condition,” he clarified.

  The warning only made things worse, only made me more certain things hadn’t quite gone according to plan.

  “It’s … Ivan,” he revealed, causing my heart to sink. “Before you panic, he’s alive, but … that’s about all we know for now.”

  I didn’t understand. “But I thought this was just recon? Why were any of you close enough for something like this to happen?”

  “We moved in to get a better look around, to get more information,” was Liam’s explanation.

  I sat up to focus. Sure, I worried a bit before falling asleep, but I was mildly comforted thinking last night was all about observation. Now, to hear they’d come face-to-face with someone from Sebastian’s camp?

  And what Elise must be going through …

  What Liam must be going through.

  My hand went to his cheek and I was relieved to see he wasn’t hiding his emotions. I was sure, had anyone else been in the room, he would have concealed them. But he knew he could share anything with me.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, despite knowing it was a stupid question. Of course he wasn’t okay.

  “I’m trying to be,” he replied, giving the most honest answer he could.

  I was terrified for Ivan, but it wasn’t lost on me that there was a difference between my bond with him, versus his with Liam. I cared, and there was an immediate sense of love and loyalty I felt toward Ivan and all my brothers, but … this was all new. Their connection with Liam had withstood the test of time. It was solid.

  Deep.

  I could only imagine how this was affecting them.

  “I’d like to see him,” I stated, sitting up in bed, pausing when Liam took a light hold of my wrist.

  “I don’t think that’s wise,” he urged. “Ivan’s not … he’s not well. Had Hilda not sedated him, he’d still be out of his mind with pain, but still … there’s nothing she can do about the wound.”

  That agony I sensed from the beginning was more apparent now, but I was suspicious he didn’t just feel it for himself. Maybe he felt it for me, too. Maybe he was also reminded of a time not so long ago when I sat by his side while he lie in a similar state. At the thought of it—how desperate and dark those days were for me—I shuddered.

 

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