“Unless you plan to kill the elves, it is much too late to help them.” He seemed curious about her behavior, and she glared at him.
“You were going to leave without a word of warning.” She whirled to face him. “We could fight. With your help—”
“I wasn’t leaving yet.” He jumped up on the edge, then glanced at her over his shoulder and held out his hand. “I was waiting for you.”
Morgan blinked at him stupidly. “What?”
“Morgan, come here.” Kincade’s voice was hard, his words a direct order he expected her to obey.
For the first time, Ward glanced at the other men. “If she goes back inside, you will lose her.”
Then, without another word, he jumped over the edge of the parapet. Morgan ran toward the edge and peered over the side. Ward looked up at her and raised a brow, clearly asking if she was coming.
“Who is he?” Kincade grabbed her arm, whirling her around to face him.
“I really have no idea.” She glanced at Atlas. “You were right about the void.”
It took him seconds to put two and two together. “You pulled him from the void.”
Funny, he seemed excited at the prospect before when he mentioned the possibility, but now his voice was frosty with censure.
“Not exactly. More like he grabbed onto me and wouldn’t leave.”
“Beautiful.” Ascher pulled her from Kincade’s grip. “There are many dangerous things in the void. It has been used as a prison for only the worst criminals.”
“People have simply become lost, too,” she protested. While Ward was dangerous, she refused to believe he would try to save her from the guards only to kill her himself. He was a warden, a protector, just like them.
“Not him.” Draven stood staring over the wall at Ward, watching him walk toward the tree line, every inch of him poised and ready for battle. “He’s an ancient.”
Something about that word tugged at the back of her mind.
The guys clearly distrusted him.
They were going to let him walk away, and Morgan couldn’t allow that. He had answers about her magic and her family. He might be one of the few remaining people alive who could answer her questions. She couldn’t let him disappear.
The necklace tightened and twisted, and she lifted it to see a single shoe with wings, similar to what the Greek god Hermes wore, and her resolve firmed.
“He’s also the only one I’ve ever met who can show me how to work the magic from the void.” Morgan jumped onto the wall, and the guys leapt at her as she calmly took a step over the ledge.
As she fell forty feet to the ground, she heard the men cursing. She landed lightly in a crouch, her body bred and conditioned to withstand the strain of the drop without breaking any bones. It wasn’t long before the others joined her, Ryder first, launching over the wall seconds behind her. None of them looked happy. “Morgan—”
“No.” She turned away from Ascher’s let’s-be-reasonable tone. “He can help us.”
“Can and will are two different things.” Kincade was at her side in an instant. “There is a price for asking for help from one of his kind.”
“His kind?” She peered up at him as they jogged into the edges of the trees. “You know he’s a berserker?”
Kincade flinched as if she’d shot him. “What?”
“I saw him fight. I couldn’t figure it out until I spoke with MacGregor and remembered the books he had in the study.” Morgan saw Ward was waiting for them just inside the trees. When he spotted them following, he turned and set off at a steady pace into the shrouded forest. The mist still lurked in the shadows, but seemed content with its meal and simply observed.
For now.
Morgan froze when she found the body that had been dragged into the woods. For some reason, she hadn’t expected to find him dead. Morbid curiosity lured her closer. The body was aged, resembling nothing more than a dried-out mummy. The only reason she could identify the corpse was because the clothes remained intact. His lips were pulled back in a silent scream, his teeth clenched in a macabre smile. His skin was brown, leathery almost, but shiny…like it was still juicy.
“Why did it kill him? I thought it was only interested in harvesting magic.”
Ward gave the body a cursory glance. “It didn’t kill him.”
She gave him a dubious stare, and he almost smiled.
“The poor sap used magic to keep himself young. When the fog took his magic, he aged rapidly.” He nudged the corpse, and the body shuddered as if still alive, part of its foot crumbling to dust. “This is his natural age.”
Morgan dealt with death every day, but the way the man died made her skin crawl.
Dying of old age just wasn’t natural.
In the darkness the trees looked gnarled and twisted, the grass brown and brittle, leached of life, the forest uninviting. The absolute silence was what put her on edge the most. “Ascher and Ryder, maybe it would be best if you changed forms.”
They glanced at her in question, and she sensed they were as unnerved as her. “I stopped the elves from capturing a hellhound earlier tonight. He saw the marks on my arm, so he knows I’m mated to one of his kind. I want you to be prepared in case he comes back.”
Ascher didn’t appear thrilled at the thought of meeting one of his own, which floored her. He’d been taken from his people and enslaved. She thought he would be glad to be reunited with them. “He had a collar similar to yours.”
“You took it off.” If anything, he seemed more displeased.
“You don’t trust him.” A shot of surprise went through her. She knew he missed his family. She thought he would be happy at the news. Apparently not. “I thought he wanted help to escape, but he followed us back to the castle, then disappeared. Now I wonder if he was searching for you.” Instead of replying, he handed over his weapons to Draven, then began to strip.
Morgan knew she should turn away, but she couldn’t help but gawk at the sleek, pale muscles of his abs. Her breath became suspended when he turned and began to lower his pants, revealing his tight and totally biteable backside, her gaze sliding helplessly lower when he dropped his pants to the deliciously corded muscles of his thighs.
She about swallowed her tongue when Ryder casually pulled his shirt over his head and handed it to her. She accepted the shirt, holding it limply in her grip, unable to even blink at the view. When he reached for the closings of his pants, staring at her boldly with his heated gaze, she rapidly blinked and cleared her throat before reluctantly turning her back, fighting the instinctual urge to glance over her shoulder.
She resisted, but only because she needed a clear head. Otherwise she wouldn’t give a flying fuck for their modesty and enjoy the show.
Draven came into view a second later carrying their discarded clothing, shoving them into a pack she hadn’t noticed. When he snatched the shirt from her limp fingers, he gave her a wry grin. “You get used to it.”
Morgan stared at him blankly for a moment, then shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
A splash of magic brushed against her, and she turned, swallowing her disappointment that the guys had already changed. Ryder was a giant wolf who came up to her waist, his fur a sandy brown with white undertones, but his brown eyes were what kept her attention locked on him…human intelligence and wolf cunning stared boldly back at her.
And she was startled to sense that he actually preferred being in his beast form to being human.
Ascher was no less intimidating. His rough, fur-like hide was pure black. Half hidden by shadows, she’d swear she saw hints of red, like rivulets of lava flowing in his chest, but the light disappeared before she could investigate further. A warm coal scent tinged the air, while small wisps of smoke rose from where his paws touched the forest floor as he posed for her inspection, mirth dancing in his glowing blue eyes.
Conceited beast.
He knew she had a fondness for his animal counterpart and had no shame about using it to get close
to her. To her surprise, she wasn’t even upset with him anymore over the deception. She was just grateful to have him in her life.
Draven and Kincade took up residence on either side of her as both Ryder and Ascher roamed a little in the distance, checking the path for danger. Despite his injuries, Atlas had no trouble keeping up with them as he brought up the rear. They traveled in silence, frustration radiating from Kincade with every step, his attention never wavering from Ward.
As the sun crested the horizon, Kincade looked ready to explode with pent-up frustration. He would ask questions about Ward that she couldn’t answer. To stall, she asked the one thing that bothered her most.
“What’s wrong with our markings?”
Kincade nearly tripped over his own feet, only his agility keeping him upright. He whipped his head toward her and stared, as if he didn’t understand, the bastard making her spell it out.
“It’s broken or breaking.” Fear was a living thing, racing through her at the thought. She’d been through too much to lose them now.
“You’re blocking us.” He said it without a hint of emotion.
He honestly believed— “Like hell! I’ve tried everything to reach you guys. The connection is fading. I’m able to tell that you’re all alive, but I can’t read anything beyond that.”
Morgan saw the other guys slowly edge closer, even the normally impassive Atlas who didn’t give a shit about anyone appeared interested.
She wanted them to say the magic in this realm was interrupting the connection in some way, but the problems began even before they arrived. She refused to sit on her ass any longer and do nothing as the connection continued to fray.
“You pulled away from your protectors, and your magic is amplifying your decision.” Ward cast them a glance over his shoulders. “You’re slowing down. You must keep up.”
“That’s not true.” She scrambled after him. “They were the ones putting distance between us.”
“No.” Kincade’s denial was instant, and Ryder and Ascher nodded in their beast forms, snorting as if to emphasis their point.
“What the hell?!” She glared at each of them, wondering how the hell they could so easily forget the last few months. “You’ve been shutting me out ever since you learned about my past. Every second of the day is filled with training. I can’t even sit next to one of you without getting a lecture.”
Bitterness filled her until her throat ached, and she turned away from them.
“You’ve been locking yourself away from us, avoiding us except at lessons.” Draven looked so sincere, she couldn’t control her snort and rolled her eyes.
“It’s always lessons. You gave me a glimpse of something more, being part of the team, then you took it away from me. If I wanted to be a slave, I would’ve stayed at the coven.” She couldn’t look at any of them. “I don’t need lessons, I need each of you to be my friend. But I can’t figure out how to get that thought through to you dimwitted jackasses.”
Ward gave a gusty sigh, his shoulders lowering as he shook his head, shooting the guys a pitying look. “They’re not treasuring you the way they should.”
He turned to face her team. “You’re going to lose her through your neglect.”
Ryder and Ascher growled, both glaring daggers at Ward, and their urge to tear him apart for even suggesting such a thing was palpable as they began to stalk him. Atlas took a step forward, his hands clenched into fists, ready to do violence, when Draven grabbed his arm…then the siren pulled his knife, flipped it over and offered the hilt to the elf before palming his own blade. Kincade yanked out his weapons, and she wasn’t sure if he was even aware of doing it. “That’s bullshit,” he snarled. “She’s our everything.”
Her heart stopped, her mind blanking, unable to process his confession. Warmth flooded her, the sensation painful, and she finally realized what it was…hope.
Such blinding hope it hurt to breathe.
Ward appeared unconcerned. “It’s her decision who she wants in her life. Her powers are strong enough to back up her decision. If she feels neglected,” he tipped his head in her direction, “then you need to ask yourselves what you’re doing wrong that she no longer wants you.”
“That’s not true.” Sure, she fought the connection in the beginning, but that changed once she got to know them. Unfortunately, no one seemed to be listening to her.
Ward gave another shrug and picked up his pace. “Or maybe none of you are worthy, and she knows it.”
“We’re doing what’s needed to be done to keep her safe.” Kincade snarled through clenched teeth, none of them even sparing her a glance.
“Maybe.” Ward yelled over his shoulder. “But she won’t be your responsibility if you’re not able to keep her.”
The guys cast each other a look, then hurried after Ward, as if preparing for a fight. “We’re not letting her go.”
“You might not have a choice if she severs the connection.”
“What?” Morgan felt the bottom of her world give away. “I was told there was no way to break the connection once a mate is found.”
“Correct.” Ward slowed his pace so she could catch up to him, seeming almost confused that she didn’t know this information. “But if you have enough magic, you can block them. It will feel like you’ve cut off an arm, but it’s possible—although usually done in only the most extreme circumstances.”
Her guts churned with dread, the world feeling like it stopped spinning as the implications struck home.
Like if she was wearing a bomb that would ultimately kill them all unless she set them free.
Chapter Fifteen
Morgan trailed after the others in a daze, blocking out their voices. The guys would never forgive her if she did such a thing. It would mean ripping her heart out of her chest, but she would do it if it meant keeping them safe.
She would rather have them alive than allow them to die with her.
But not yet.
She couldn’t do it yet.
Only as a last resort.
She blew out a heavy breath and glanced over her shoulder.
“What do you see?”
“Huh?” She blinked at Draven, not comprehending his question.
“That’s the fourth time you’ve looked behind us.” He casually flipped his blade end over end, not even watching the knife spin before catching it again.
She glanced behind her again, scanning the forest, unable to stop a shiver from going up her spine. Though she couldn’t see anything, she couldn’t get over the feeling that they were no longer alone. “I think we’re being followed.”
The guys halted, spreading out, eyeing the forest. “Where?”
Morgan scanned the trees, then shook her head, feeling foolish. “Maybe I’m being paranoid.”
“We trust your instincts.” Kincade edged closer, going back to back with her. “You’re connected to this place in a way that we aren’t.”
“Run!” A guy no older than seventeen ran at them full tilt. As he neared, she saw blood leaking from dozens of wounds scattered over every exposed inch of his body.
Everyone braced for attack, but instead of pausing, he sprinted past them, sweat plastering his hair to his face. Their eyes met for less than a second, but she recognized him.
The hellhound.
A dark cloud emerged through the trees, a slight hum disturbing the air. As the cloud drew closer, her jaw dropped open in surprise.
A swarm of pixies.
But these weren’t the wish-giving, sparkling fairy dust sort of faeries from children’s tales. They were carnivores, their mouths full of needle-sharp teeth, their bite packed with of enough venom to slow their prey.
Like dainty freaking vampires.
Their wings should’ve sparkled with colors, but instead they were leached of any pigment, black veins streaking through the delicate membranes, their eyes completely black and void of anything but insatiable hunger. Instead of pixie dust, grey ash fell from their wings with each f
lutter.
They were infected.
And too many to fight.
“Run!” Morgan didn’t hesitate—she turned and hauled ass after the kid.
The others followed immediately, all of them running blindly through the trees. She could actually feel the pixies hovering just out of reach. Draven grunted, and a quick glance showed him swatting away a pixie who’d took a chunk out of his ear.
She was horrified to realize the guys were staying behind her, covering her back, offering themselves up as a feast to protect her.
Kincade lashed out, swiping at a pixie that was reaching for her. Loki launched himself from her shoulders, tackling another that had landed on Kincade’s shoulder. There was a sharp crunch, the pixie falling limp as Loki shook him violently, before spitting out what remained.
The pixie resembled a delicate human only three inches tall, his wings almost twice as large as his body. And she and her men were going to end up being pixie snacks if she didn’t do something.
Two of the little buggers managed to evade the others, giving her vicious smiles as they dive-bombed her like kamikaze pilots. She managed to swat them away. One went spinning through the air, smacking a tree with a sickening crunch, while the other one latched onto her left hand and sank his sharp teeth into the fleshy part on the side of her palm.
She bit her lip to hold back her shriek of pain.
It felt like being stabbed with acid-filled needles, the burn of venom forking its way through her flesh. Without thought, needing to remove the pain, she slammed her fist against her leg, bile rising in her throat when she felt the mushy crunch of bones as she squashed the small body.
The little bugger fluttered to the ground, before dragging himself to his feet, taking a few running steps and launching himself into the air, his wings fluttering like mad.
She’d caught up with the kid and realized that he was slowing down, the poison making his reflexes sluggish. That would be the fate of everyone with her if she didn’t act now.
Kincade said to trust her instincts, so Morgan took a leap of faith, called up her magic, closed her eyes and allowed it to guide her. Magic surged up from her bones like a static charge snapping along her skin. The marks on her back became heavy and cold, the only part of her body not infused with power. Magic flowed out of her like a swirl of wind, and she followed the tug as it guided her.
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