by Meg Anne
Von’s arm snaked about her waist, pulling Helena back against his chest.
“What reason could you possibly have to leave our bed?” he asked in a sleepy grumble as he pressed a kiss to her shoulder.
Helena smiled and gestured wordlessly to the dancing bodies below.
“Did they wake you? We can sic Ronan and Kragen on them if you want them to shut up.”
Laughter bubbled up at the mental image that caused. “No, no. It’s nothing like that.” Helena’s words faltered, and she shrugged, still smiling as she watched.
The truth was she hadn’t been able to sleep for more than an hour or two at a time since they’d come home. Von would keep her awake for hours with his lovemaking until she finally passed out in a sweaty and satiated heap beside him, but inevitably, she would wake up when the same restless energy ate at her.
Von’s hand found her hips and tugged her around until she was facing him. Brushing a thick curl from her face, he asked, “What’s bothering you, my love?”
Helena shrugged, feeling foolish. Rowena was dead, they were alive. There was simply no explanation for her to feel anything less than ecstatic. But a part of her felt empty. For the first time since her arrival here almost a year ago, there was nothing for her to do.
Even her new friends were returning home when it became clear they could not justify their absences any longer. Anduin and his Storm Forged had left for the Vale a few days ago, with the Daejaran contingent not far behind them. The Caederans and Etillions left yesterday, promising that they would keep in better contact so that nothing like this could ever happen again. Only Reyna and a few of her Night Stalkers remained as guests at the Palace, but Helena thought that had more to do with a certain blue-eyed Daejaran than anything else.
Von laughed, picking up on the nameless emotions. “Can it be that my beautiful Mate is bored?”
She shook her head, intending to disagree but stopped short. Was she? What sense did that make?
In the immediate aftermath of Endoshan, Helena had felt only bone-deep satisfaction. Within a couple of days, the feeling had been replaced with a growing restlessness. She had tried to find an answer about what exactly had transpired when her skin had connected with Rowena’s, but the best Timmins had been able to offer was a guess. It was his belief that in Rowena’s desperation for power, she sacrificed part of her soul each time she used the corrupted Spirit magic. Eventually, there was nothing left but the void of the corruption within her and when it came into contact with the purity of Helena’s completed soul, it shattered. Whether that was true, the Mother only knew, but it was as good an answer as they were going to get.
Either way, the result had been the same. The Shadows fell without Rowena’s power to animate them, and without the strength of her Generals to protect her, Rowena was nothing more than a human woman. She was no match at all for the Mother’s Vessel. Her death had been swift and total.
Helena frowned. Was that what was bothering her? That it had been over too quickly? After months of build-up, of single-minded focus and purpose, Rowena was dead. What was she supposed to do now?
Von’s understanding smile let Helena know that she’d asked the question out loud.
“Whatever the fuck you want,” he whispered, pressing a hot kiss to her mouth and making the breath leave her in a whoosh.
She chuckled as he grinned down at her. “Yes, but no one needs me anymore. I’ve never had a chance to do something just because I’ve wanted to.”
Von frowned, his brows dipping low over his gray eyes. “I need you.”
Helena pressed her palm to his scruffy cheek. “I need you too, my love. But that’s not what I meant.”
She’d grown used to the adventure and its accompanying race of adrenaline through her blood. The thought of only having her days filled with the monotonous tedium of being a political figurehead, even if her nights would be filled by her Mate, left her rather uninspired.
“Darling, no one is saying you have to keep yourself locked away in the Palace.”
Interest piqued, she asked in an excited rush, “What are you thinking?”
Von grinned. “You’ve only seen a sliver of the land that you rule. You have new friends and allies that we can visit or we could go and meet the rest of your people. If that’s not to your liking, I’m sure the pride will want to spend time with their newest member.”
Helena’s smile grew, her heart thumping excitedly at the thought of all the possible adventures that might still be ahead of them.
He ran his nose along hers, pressing a kiss to her cheek before whispering in her ear. “You made me a promise, Mate. Time for just the two of us once the war was over.”
Helena’s eyes flitted to the unmade bed and then the magically locked door. “What have we been doing these last two weeks?”
“You’ve been running off to spend time with your friends before they return home, answering Timmins’s endless questions so that he could make the appropriate notes for the archives, holding court over your subjects, not to mention the time you spent helping Ronan train the new recruits,” Von listed. “By the time I get you to myself, everyone else has all but exhausted you with their demands, but that ends now. You and I are going away.”
Her pulse raced at his words. “We are?”
His eyes were molten when they met hers. “We are. Now pack.” He slapped her ass once, and Helena’s knees locked at the flood of heat that pooled between her legs as a result.
Von’s nostrils flared, and his eyes darkened with arousal. “Hold that thought. I want us gone before anyone tries to distract you.”
Her smile grew. “We aren’t telling them we’re leaving?”
Her Mate shook his head. “We’ll leave them a note so they don’t worry, but for the next few weeks, Mira, the only title you’ll answer to is Mate, and your only responsibility will be to please me,” he whispered, dipping his head for another scorching kiss before stepping away and quickly tossing some clothes in his pack.
Helena licked her lips, her mind going foggy. A different kind of restless heat wound its way through her body. One thing she definitely was not feeling right now was bored.
He lifted a brow when she didn’t move. “You coming?”
“Not yet, but I intend to be shortly,” she answered in a sexual purr as she slid past him, her pebbled nipples rubbing against his bare chest.
“Fuck it,” Von said, grasping her around the legs and tossing her over his shoulder as he carried her back to their bed. “Ten minutes longer won’t make a difference.”
“Only ten minutes?” she pouted.
He slid his hands up her legs, pulling them wide to make room for him.
“You’re insatiable,” he murmured, running a calloused finger along her slick fold.
“It’s your fault.”
Von grinned. “Damn straight.”
He slid his body up hers, stopping to kiss and nibble along the way.
“Please,” she begged, pressing her hips against his to try and ease the pulsing ache at her center. “I need you.”
“I will always need you,” he whispered hotly, sliding home in one, hard thrust.
Helena shattered beneath him, wave after wave of her climax flooding through her body, and through their bond.
Von grit his teeth, furiously pumping into her as her inner muscles fluttered against his velvety length. Between her body, and the feeling of her orgasm through their bond, he was coming inside her with a shout only a few heartbeats later.
She wrapped her arms around his back, peppering kisses across the top of his Jaka. “You said ten minutes, we have at least five more.”
Von snickered, still hot and thick inside of her. “Utterly insatiable,” he growled, but it wasn’t a complaint. He began to move again, long slow thrusts that had her toes curling and her back arching up and off the bed. Time lost all meaning as they worshiped each other with their bodies.
Ten minutes had come and gone a hundred times over
before they finally made their way out of bed, and then out of the Palace. The future might be uncertain, but with her Mate at her side, there was absolutely no way she’d ever be bored.
Ronan let the note fall to the floor with a disgusted snort.
“I can’t believe they just left the rest of us here.”
“You can’t?” Reyna asked with an amused lift of her once again perfect brow. Helena had made a point to personally heal Reyna, removing all traces of the General’s corruption. Ronan almost missed the scars. Scars were proof that you had fought and won. Reyna was a powerful woman; she would have borne her scars with pride.
His lips twisted in a wry grin. “Alright, so maybe it’s not that hard to believe.”
Von and Helena had left a note saying only that they were going to be out of touch for a few weeks and that Ronan was in charge in their place. They didn’t even leave a way for Ronan to reach them if something came up.
“I think she’s earned her rest,” Ronan finally said. No one in the Circle had spoken about the fact that Helena had come face first with the darkest parts of her soul, or that she had nearly succumbed to it. They also hadn’t brought up her transformation, at least not in front of her. Whether it was a skill Helena still had access to, no one was certain. The popular belief was that the leftover power gifted to her by the rest of the Chosen had allowed her body to make the transition in response to her need to defend her Mate. It was just one more thing, in an already long list, that made Helena the most impressive Kiri the Chosen had ever seen.
Reyna murmured her agreement and made to stand as a knock sounded on the door. They shared a curious look as Ronan went to open the door.
Alina stood there, wringing her hands nervously. “A letter has arrived; it’s addressed to the Kiri.”
Ronan frowned, holding out his hand. “I’ll take it.”
Alina looked relieved as she handed it to him before bobbing a curtsey and scurrying away.
The thick green velum was expensive, and the scrawling text on the front was unfamiliar.
Without waiting, Ronan peeled back the seal and quickly read the text, his amusement fading with each new sentence.
Reyna read over his shoulder, her expression a twin to his own.
“We’ve been summoned,” Ronan said.
“What do you think it means?” Reyna asked, already walking with him as they went to find the remaining Circle members.
Ronan shrugged. “Effie wouldn’t have sent it if she didn’t need our help. It can’t possibly be good.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” Reyna said with a sigh.
Ronan lifted his brow. “You don’t have to come, Night Stalker. This is Circle business.”
Reyna scowled at him. “As if I would let you wander around Bael unprotected.”
“Worried about me?” he asked with a smug, purely masculine smile.
Reyna rolled her eyes, calling over her shoulder as she walked away, “I already told you, Shield. I’m not done with you yet.”
Ronan’s smile grew as he watched Reyna’s swaying hips. After a moment, he shook his head, pulling himself out of his reverie. Following her, he let out a low whistle before muttering under his breath. “Mother’s tits, this is going to be fun.”
Epilogue
The Triumvirate stood overlooking their favorite cliff, their faces tilted up toward the stars.
“The pieces are finally in place.”
“Is she ready?”
“The first step has already been made.”
Their cloaks billowed around them as the wind swept up.
“There is much she must learn.”
“We will teach her.”
“She is stubborn and unfocused.”
“She doesn’t trust us.”
“It doesn’t matter; she is where she was destined to be.”
“The rest will soon fall into place.”
The scrape of a boot against a rock had the three figures twisting toward the mouth of the cave.
“What are you doing out here?” an annoyed voice snapped.
“Daughter.” As always, it was impossible to tell which of the three figures was speaking.
Effie grit her teeth, her blonde hair flying around her in the breeze. “I told you to stop calling me that. I am not your daughter.”
The central figure shrugged. “And yet here you are.”
“Because you promised you’d teach me,” she shouted, frustration and grief twisting her face. It had been weeks since she’d joined the Keepers and she was no closer to understanding her visions or fighting off the horrible side effects. All she felt was more desperately alone than ever.
“Then perhaps it’s time we begin.”
SNEAK PEEK
* * *
Keep reading for a sneak peek at the first book in my newest series, Star Crossed…
Chapter 1
Skye
Skye was only seven years old the first time she killed someone.
Now, twenty years later, as she stood on the balcony of one of Chicago’s most prestigious art galleries, looking up at a sky full of brilliant white stars, each gory detail of that night was etched in the recesses of her mind, like a sinister snapshot she could never forget. And why would she forget?
It had been her mother’s life that was lost.
A life snuffed out because she didn’t know how to control the curse she’d inherited the day she was born. Skye made a mistake, one she wished she could say she’d never repeated, and the woman who’d given birth to her paid the ultimate price. When she’d predicted her mother’s death, she’d assumed it was nothing more than a nightmare. After all, what seven-year-old had that kind of power?
She hadn’t warned her mother, and just like in Skye’s premonition, Marie Giovanni had been killed during a mugging outside of the corner grocery store in broad daylight.
Skye closed her eyes and tilted her head to the sky, trying to bring the stars closer while pushing the ghosts of her past farther away. Thinking on it now would do no good; if there was anything she’d learned over the course of her lifetime, it was that you couldn’t change the past.
No matter how hard you tried.
The stars burned brightly enough to be seen even in the middle of the city, illuminating the dark night with their brilliant light. Skye shivered, the fine hairs on her arms standing at full attention. It’s just the chill in the air. As Skye wrapped her shawl more tightly around her body, she couldn’t ignore the growing feeling of unease.
“It’s cold out here,” a man said behind her, his deep voice ripping her from her thoughts. Skye spun around, her hand pressed against her chest as her heart thundered wildly. “What the f—”
The stranger spoke over her, his hands lifting as he took a hurried step back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
She looked up and down the stranger’s hard body, and couldn’t help but appreciate the way he filled out his dark suit. His jaw was strong but clean-shaven, and bright blue eyes shone out from beneath thick lashes.
“It’s alright.” She offered him a smile. “It’s no more than I deserve for getting so wrapped up in my own thoughts. A girl in Chicago should always know better than to lose track of her surroundings.” She turned back to look out at the skyline, thinking the conversation was over.
“It sure is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” he asked, joining her.
Skye’s muscles stiffened at the unwanted company. “It is,” she agreed, her voice curt. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy the new view, but the reason she’d come out here in the first place was to get away from other people for a while.
He placed his hands on the railing. “What are you doing out here? Trying to get away from the ‘art’ in there?” He raised his hands in air quotes.
Skye smiled. “Not your cup of tea?”
He snorted, his lips quirking in a smile. “Not at all.”
Curious, she turned her head up to look at him. “Then why come?”
“That’s sweet of you.” Skye eyed him with new interest. Kind and sexy? Now there was a potent combination. She turned to face him fully, suddenly more willing to spend some time with the intriguing stranger.
“She’s my sister.” He shrugged, as if everyone had that kind of familial loyalty.
Skye bit back a snort; she sure as shit did not. At least, not since her grandmother’s death.
“Hey, where’d you go?” he asked.
Skye gave him a bland smile. “Dark thoughts.”
“I can see that. Want to talk about it?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Spill my deepest secrets to a complete stranger? No thanks, I’ll pass.”
He chuckled. “Sometimes talking with a stranger is easier than chatting with a friend. Less history to get in the way of the words.”
Skye couldn’t disagree, although she was no more inclined to share her thoughts with him, no matter how charming he was.
“Is this the part where I’m allowed to ask your name? Or are you going to take off one of those stilts and try to stab me with it?”
Skye couldn’t contain her snort of laughter. “I’m sorry, my what?”
He gestured toward her six-inch heels. “Your skyscrapers.”
She glanced down at her feet, twisting one leg to provide a better view of her buttery black leather Steve Madden stilettos. Metal studs covered the back of each heel. Shoes were her one indulgence—the higher the better. At five-foot-two, Skye approved of anything to help bring her up past other people’s chins.
“I don’t know how the hell you walk in those things.”
Skye smiled coyly, narrowing her gaze. “Oh, very well, actually.” She turned slowly and began walking back toward the door of the gallery, exaggerating the roll of her hips for his benefit. She paused at the door to glance back at him over her shoulder. “Wouldn’t you agree?”