“What did she tell you?”
“We know she’s pregnant and the child is mated to the…” His words seemed to choke off.
“The Devil,” Mikkel gritted out. “Trust me, it doesn’t feel better knowing it longer either.”
“I’ll bet,” Adrian agreed, his tone hearty but gritty. “It will kill Rosa. She was raised Catholic for a while. She still signs the cross when we pass a church, for Caelus’ sake.”
“Well, there may be no need to tell her. If Thalia shared anything with you, I’m sure it was the fact we don’t intend on letting that fucker get his hands on our baby girl.”
Louis’ eyes shuttered but he nodded. “She did tell me that. We’re just trying to figure out how we can help.”
“Nothing you can do yet,” he admitted sourly. “This war’s going to take place far away from here.”
“Then why the ‘yet’?” Matthew demanded.
“Because I’m certain we’ll always need help on this territory.”
“What makes you say that?” Louis folded his arms across his chest as he perched on the edge of his desk. The wide plantation-style surface was covered in papers and books that came from the shelves around him.
Unlike Theo’s relatively small study, Louis’ was enormous. As well as the complete antithesis of the modern decor of the home. Adrian had designed the monstrous, minimalistic mansion, and Louis’ space was anything but. The bookshelves were hand-carpentered, not display cabinets that were made by machine. Some of the books were ancient. The old leather had been tooled hundreds of years ago—probably remnants of their pasts. They were, after all, over two centuries old.
When Louis cleared his throat, Mikkel realized the older man had asked him a question he’d unintentionally ignored. “When don’t you need your allies close to hand?” was all he said.
“Theo said yesterday that the Alphas in the Summerford Pack were behind Thalia’s shooting,” Matthew commented as he tapped his fingers against the armrest of his seat—they’d been discussing that when Thalia just about started to keel over in Matthew’s arms from exhaustion.
“Yes. She’s going to kick ass and then we’re going to sort out this situation with the Devil himself.” Because nope, that wasn’t an overwhelming prospect.
Dancing with the Devil was supposed to be a play on words, not a thing to add to your bucket list.
“How’s she going to kick ass if she doesn’t have her She-Wolf?”
Mikkel just grinned at Ade’s question. “You haven’t seen her with a sword yet, have you?”
And that sword was why, a few hours later, Theo should have arrived with little to no fuss. The sword being his reason for leaving them in this realm, but Mikkel called bullshit.
By the time Theo rolled in, Thalia hadn’t even stirred, and Rafe had woken up to grunt, roll off her, and fall flat against her side before tumbling into sleep once more. Mikkel had been hard-pressed not to bust a gut at the sight of feather imprints on his cheeks; they were visible beneath the scruff of his stubble.
But even as Mikkel eyed the sword while Theo smirked at the sight of their still-sleeping mates, he murmured, “You could BS the others, but you can’t fool me. You didn’t go back to Heden for that.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I do.”
Theo gritted his teeth. “Leave it.”
“Your secretiveness is starting to wear pretty fucking thin, Theo. I won’t let you keep us in the dark when we’re all a part of this battle now. You might want to keep us safe. You might think we’re not capable of looking after ourselves, but Morningstar dragged us into this, and we’re the only ones who can drag ourselves back out again.”
Theo firmed his jaw as he placed the gladius, complete with its decorative scabbard, on the coffee table in front of Mikkel. He’d been here ever since he’d returned from Louis’ office, having seen no point in changing when Thalia and Rafe were dead to the world, and they weren’t exactly going out anywhere until then.
Eying the scabbard, then Theo’s tight jaw, he murmured, “They’ve barely stirred.”
“I wonder why.”
His tone was pensive, which meant that Theo was as bewildered as him with what was going on with the two lovebirds on the bed.
He cleared his throat. “You know my meeting Ragnor—” He almost choked on his father’s name. All these fucking years of wondering exactly who his dad was, of pining for him and mourning him, and… What? Was he disappointed? Shrugging that off, he mumbled, “Well, it sounds like that’s kind of activated whatever the fuck is inside me, right?”
Theo’s eyes softened. The bright green turning mossy as he took the armchair opposite Mikkel’s. The suite they were in was like a studio. Just a huge one. The square foot of this place beat his two bedroom apartment in Chicago, meaning that they could talk privately without fear of disrupting the bizarre slumber Thalia and Rafe were in.
“Ouroboros are difficult creatures, Mikkel. The ancient ones always are.” He crossed his legs, resting his ankle on his knee, drumming his fingers on the joint.
“You’ve crossed paths with my father before, haven’t you?”
Theo hesitated then nodded. “A few times. Trierna is my faction, you recall this, yes?”
Mikkel succeeded in not rolling his eyes. “Yes, I recall that.” Jesus, they’d only left Heden yesterday. How could he forget?
“Well, Trierna is an important territory in Heden. We’re right next to the gates. Because of that we’re known for our soldiers.”
Now that Mikkel hadn’t known. “Soldiers?”
“Yes. Although, warriors is more apt a term. Only humans are soldiers.”
“What’s the difference?”
Theo cut him a look. “You don’t want to know.”
Fuck. Whenever someone said that, who the fuck didn’t immediately want to know?
Before he could bitch, however, Theo carried on, “Before I took over as faction head, my mother insisted I apprentice in all the different sections of government.”
“Like managing the ancient ones?” Mikkel hazarded a guess.
“Yes. I came across your line then. I knew your great-great-grandfather. He was an asshole I’m sad to say.”
Mikkel’s brows rose. “He was?”
“Yes. Insisted on shifting even though he knew the consequences.”
“What were they?”
“The ancient ones’ power is so all-consuming it affects the world around them. I already told you they can trigger tsunamis and volcanic eruptions.” He blew out a gusty breath. “Ensuring they’re policed is still a priority, even though their numbers are thinning out. Like your father said, they don’t breed well anymore.”
“Because they’re not allowed to shift?”
“Perhaps.”
“Why don’t you let them come to Heden?”
Theo snorted. “You think my mother would allow that?”
“Well, she won’t be Queen for long, will she? Say, six more months?” His eyes cut to Thalia who was still sleeping on her belly. A belly that was full with their child.
Theo’s eyes widened in surprise at the truth of Mikkel’s words. “Indeed.”
“But, you wouldn’t want to help them,” he said blandly. “You don’t approve of the ancient ones.”
“I disapprove of the ones I’ve met. They’re well aware of the disasters they can cause and shift regardless. The ones who follow the rules, I have no problem with.”
Mikkel scratched his belly. “Would they be able to cause the same catastrophic disasters in Heden?”
“No. We’re not of this Earth.”
Mikkel closed his eyes. “When you say shit like that, it freaks me the fuck out.”
Theo smirked. “Get used to it.”
“If Heden isn’t on Earth, where is it?”
“Another dimension, of course,” Theo told him easily.
Pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand, he waved his other to encourage Theo to continue.<
br />
“Our climate is Cosmos-based.”
Mikkel scowled. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“There’s a whole study of it on Heden. I really don’t feel like getting into cosmological principles.”
Mikkel winced. He didn’t feel like getting into it either. He’d always loathed science as a boy. “Okay, so, they could shift there without causing disasters.”
“Yes. They’d still cause trouble, but without any harm.”
“Well, we should do that then. Rather than have these creatures die out, I mean.”
“It isn’t as simple as that.”
“Isn’t it? We’ve species dying out because—”
“We have no specific knowledge as to why they’re dying out. It might have nothing to do with their shifts being restricted.”
“Yes, but to test that theory, they should be allowed to go to Heden and see. Humans do it with creatures that are going extinct. Why shouldn’t the Fae?”
Theo narrowed his eyes. “Regardless of what we do in the future, that doesn’t change the past. Your family have been trouble-makers for a very long time.”
“How long?” he asked, his own eyes twinkling at the thought.
“Since the days of the Vikings. Even if we were to bring the ancient ones to Heden, there would be many prejudices to overcome. They have caused many issues over the years. They will not be easily forgotten by a species who pride themselves on never forgetting.”
Mikkel shrugged. “We should do whatever we can to help these species. Seems stupid not to.”
“Perhaps.” Theo pursed his lips. “Ouroboros are strange beasts. They’re not supposed to be destructive. They’re actually constructive. Defenders rather than aggressors.”
He knew that. Wikipedia had told him so. Was it terrible he’d never even heard of the fucking things before? He’d seen the serpent eating its tail before. Some of his men had them tattooed on them, and from what he’d seen online, they were common themes on tattoos. But he’d never actually heard the name before.
“So why were they troublemakers?”
“Because of who they protected,” Theo said drily. “Usually, they got themselves mixed up in all kinds of wars.”
“Like my dad.”
“Like your dad,” Theo murmured, his tone gentling. “They’re under no obligation to serve anyone. They belong to no one. The ancient ones aren’t like Lykens today. They have no National Pack or Pride. They have no collective den. They’re free spirits. But they usually get involved and stick their noses in where they oughtn’t.”
“And pay for that with their lives.”
He sighed. “Yes. Sadly.”
Mikkel, blanking all expression from his face, nodded. “I understand.”
“I doubt it. The trouble is, Mikkel, what you ask of me to share is very difficult. Think of your time overseas. What you saw and heard, learned and touched. Can you impart every piece of knowledge to us? Can you convey that experience to us accurately?”
“No,” he murmured, understanding Theo’s train of thought.
Seeming relieved, Theo carried on, “It is much the same for me. I can’t share such information with you just because it’s simply a part of my knowledge banks now. It’s not something I know, it’s something I’ve come to learn over the years. It’s…”
“Wisdom,” Mikkel inserted. “I understand. But you have to change that to some small degree, Theo. You can’t keep us in the dark,” he reiterated. “If you do, you do us a disservice, because knowledge is power. Willingly holding back information does little else but weaken us, and we have to maintain the strongest of fronts in the face of a very dangerous enemy.”
Theo’s eyelids sunk to half-mast. “I agree. That is why, when I collected Thalia’s sword, I spoke with my mother.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. I asked Isaura about changelings.”
“What did she have to say?”
He pursed his lips. “I believe when you started this conversation you were heading along the lines of, ‘My species requires a catalyst, does a changeling too?’ Am I correct?”
Mikkel nodded, then he looked over at the bed again. “Yeah. I figured if I was like that, maybe he was too.”
“Well, you’re not wrong. Isaura said changelings are unusual creatures. She was quite fascinated to learn that Rafe could be one.” He clucked his tongue. “He should be grateful he’s mine, otherwise she’d have him in one of her labs. They’re very rare, she informed me.” Theo’s nostrils flared. “As rare as you.”
“It would seem you have a triad of rare mates,” Mikkel retorted.
“Indeed.” Theo’s eyes darkened, silver bleaching the green. Mikkel knew that if the man’s wings were out, they’d be fluttering and flickering with his agitation. “She said the book we read was old. As old as her, and hadn’t been updated.”
“It hadn’t?” Mikkel clucked his tongue. “How very old-fashioned of you.”
Theo grunted. “When a changeling is born…”
“Shouldn’t we share this with Rafe first?” Mikkel interrupted.
“No. He might be asleep for a while.”
“A while?”
“Yes. Until his markings develop fully.”
“Those markings were important?”
“Very. They speak of his gifts.”
“They do? In what language?”
“Vulcun’s.”
That dude had his own language? What the fuck? “Does Terra have her own language?”
“She did. But neither are spoken often anymore. Latin is derived from Terra’s tongue.”
Accepting that, Mikkel tilted his head to the side as a thought crossed his mind, “So why do those markings appear on Rafe’s skin in Vulcun’s language?”
“Because,” Theo said on a heavy sigh, “changelings are Vulcun’s children.”
“Wait, what?” Mikkel demanded, sitting up at Theo’s words. “What the hell does he want with children?”
“Why did Terra, Caelus, Aer, and Mare need kids?”
“But that’s different. They’re like the—” He struggled for the right word, but the one he settled on didn’t seem right either. “Creator Gods, aren’t they?”
“So is Vulcun. He just isn’t as prolific.”
Mikkel blew out a breath. “What are you saying to me, Theo? Lay it on the line.”
Theo pursed his lips. “Vulcun is, technically, Rafe’s father. Meaning our baby girl has a God for a granddaddy.”
7
Theo
“I know you’re here.”
With his head tilted back to stare up at the moon, he didn’t bother to turn around. Didn’t bother to even look at the deceitful bitch who had taken his fated and betrayed a friendship that had been forged years before civilization had even formed in this realm.
“I had to see you.” Magda’s voice was a croak, nothing like her usual strident tones.
Well, usual wasn’t the word.
“Did I ever know you?” he muttered.
She didn’t answer, instead asked, “How did you know I was here?”
“I scented you.”
“I didn’t realize I had a scent anymore. Or, if I did, I thought it would be different.”
Theo gritted his teeth. “It is, Magda. You scent of death now. You’ve killed, more often than is good for your soul.”
He felt her step to his side, felt the heat of her body close to him, but still he stared over at the ocean. The rippling waves made a roaring sound that almost deafened the beat of his heart. He tried to let it. Tried to focus on that, rather than focus on the disturbing mixture of rage and sorrow that was tangling with his mind.
“I’ve learned to survive,” was all she said, and that was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
“Survival?” he hissed at her, turning to glower at her. “Isn’t that what brought you to your knees the first time? With Morningstar tearing off your wings and tossing them to the ground like they were trash?”
<
br /> Tears formed in her eyes, and under the light of the moon, he got a good look at her. A true look at her. She appeared exactly how she scented.
She’d been beautiful once. And it was insane to believe that, to him, that was only a handful of days ago. But time passed differently here, and after Thalia had spoken of Magda’s visit, he had reason to believe she’d been dumped on Earth in the same time period as they’d been.
A notion that begged his attention.
“Why?”
“I-I… didn’t Thalia explain?”
“Yes. She did. But you didn’t tell her everything. That’s why you’re here.”
“No. I’m here because I wasn’t sure she’d explain…”
“Perhaps,” he agreed. “But there’s always more with you, Magda. You play your cards close to your chest.”
Her face was so bony, so free from the beauty she’d once had, that he almost wanted to weep for her. The emotions she inspired in him were so beyond confusing that he didn’t know how to handle them. They were a tangle, a muddle in his head.
A swirling concoction of grief and love, and hate and wrath.
It reminded him of when Chela had taken his own life and Isaura had eradicated him from the annals. Destroyed his good name as Michelangelo had destroyed his good soul.
Theo had fallen into a depression that had lasted centuries after that. He could not afford that now. Not with a fated at his side, one with so many prophecies marring her future, their future, that he had to be on guard.
She reached out to touch him and closed her eyes when he flinched. “I’m sorry, Theo. I-I had to stay. I couldn’t not. I had to see you. To speak with you. To explain.”
There was sorrow etched into her features, but it wasn’t enough.
Her physical frailties, pure proof of how low she’d sunk, weren’t enough.
His hand snapped out. Her throat felt thin in his grasp, but he didn’t care. Rage consumed him. Outrage swirling with it.
But she didn’t fight.
Didn’t even struggle as he raised her from the ground until her feet were swinging, dangling in his grasp.
“I’m sorry, Theo,” she gasped, but didn’t scrabble to fight his hold. Her fingers didn’t try to scratch him, nor did she even kick.
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