by Zoe Chant
“But-” Hope started, but Ivy had already disappeared out the back door. She exchanged a puzzled look with Betty.
“Is it just me,” Betty asked in an undertone, “or was that really weird?”
“Was what really weird?” Hugh had come into the room, barefoot. He wore jeans, a plain white T-shirt, and a rather groggy expression. His hair stuck up in unruly spikes on one side, tousled from bed.
“Nothing,” Hope said quickly. “Hey, you’re up early today!”
Hugh blinked blearily at the clock. “It’s nearly eleven.”
“Yeah, but the past few days we haven’t seen you before one,” Hope pointed out. “Are you feeling better?”
Hugh stopped in the middle of reaching for a cupboard. Hope’s heart sank as the by-now familiar blank look crept across his face, his mouth going slack.
A soft growl escaped Betty’s mouth. The hellhound’s eyes were fixed on the motionless Hugh, her lips wrinkling back to expose her teeth.
“Stop it, Betty!” Hope hissed. Then, louder but more gently: “Hugh? Hello?”
He started, his outstretched hand dropping back to his side. “Sorry. Just…listening. Yes, I’m feeling better.” A hint of the lost look crept into his pale eyes. “I think.”
“Well, that’s good!” Hope said brightly. Under the table, she poked Betty. “Isn’t that good, Betty?”
The hellhound finally managed to choke off her growling, though she was still physically drawn back in her chair as if Hugh was a particularly large spider. “Yeah. Great. Uh, listen, I just remembered, I have a…thing.”
Hope narrowed her eyes at her. “No, you don’t.”
Hugh let out a soft huff of sardonic laughter. “It’s fine, Hope. Let Betty go and do her…thing.”
The hellhound didn’t need to be invited twice. With an apologetic glance at Hope, she grabbed her bag and made a dash for the door.
“Rude,” Hope muttered. She started stacking up the discarded homework. “I’m so sorry, Hugh. I don’t know what’s gotten into her.”
“That’s because you aren’t a shifter,” he said, rather dryly. He opened a cupboard. “Speaking of which, where’s Ivy?”
“She, uh, had to go out.”
“Oh.” Hugh closed the cupboard again without taking anything out, and moved on to the next one. “Is that ‘had to go out’ as in the same way that Betty had to go do ‘a thing’?”
“Um.” Hope wasn’t sure whether to be glad or dismayed by this unexpected flash of his previous sarcasm. “Yes.”
His mouth twisted a little. “Thought so.”
Hope bit her lip, watching him for a few minutes. He kept opening cupboards and drawers, staring at the contents blankly, and then closing them...only to reopen them again a moment later.
“Hugh?” she ventured, about the third time he randomly inspected his plates. “What are you looking for?”
He stilled. “I’m…not sure. Nothing, actually.”
Nonetheless, he took out a glass, and poured himself some water. Drink in hand, he leaned back against the kitchen counter, shooting her a slight, strained smile.
“I’m a mess, aren’t I?” he said. “No wonder Ivy’s avoiding me.”
Reversing out from behind the table, Hope wheeled herself closer to him. “Things aren’t okay with you guys, are they.”
He shook his head, looking weary. “Things are about as far from okay as it is possible to be. Whatever she talked to Ash about—and I have a horrible suspicion that I know what it was—it clearly didn’t go the way that she wanted. And now she doesn’t even want to be in the same room as me.”
“What did she talk to Ash about?” Hope asked.
He took a long drink of his water before answering. “I think she asked him to burn out her wyvern.”
“What, again?” Hope frowned, puzzled. “Why?”
Hugh made a sweeping hand gesture at himself. “Because of me. So that we can touch.”
Hope shook her head, still not getting it. “Why would she need to lose her wyvern for that? You’re her true mate.”
Hugh stared at her. She stared back, in a moment of mutual confusion.
“I think,” Hugh said at last, putting down his glass, “that you’d better explain why you think that’s relevant.”
“Well, she’s venomous all the time because of her animal, right? Her wyvern is scared of everything, so it's always on the defensive. But it's not scared of you.” Hope shrugged. “So you should be able to touch her.”
Why was he still staring at her like that? Wasn’t all this painfully obvious?
“Haven't you even tried?” she asked.
“Ivy won’t let me near her. She said the thought of hurting me made her so nervous, her venom would be strong enough to kill on contact. You really think that I'm still immune?”
“Well, not exactly immune. I mean, you shouldn’t be sharing gloves or anything—her venom would still affect you if you came into contact with it. But don't you get it? You won't come into contact with it by touching her directly. Her wyvern won't want to hurt you, so if you get close to her, it will have to settle down.”
“So she wouldn't be venomous at all,” Hugh said slowly. “Not only to me, but to everyone.”
“Exactly! And once she’s turned off her venom once, maybe she’ll learn how to do it whenever she wants, even when you’re not around. You can help her relax enough to control it.” Excited, Hope wheeled right up to him, tugging at his arm. “You have to go after her, Hugh. Right now! You have to make her listen to you.”
Hugh let her pull him upright, but balked as she tried to urge him toward the door. “What if your theory is wrong?”
“It's not my theory,” Hope said. “It was our mom’s. She was always searching for her true mate. She wasn’t as venomous as Ivy, but she was still always a bit toxic. She was certain that if she could just find her mate, her wyvern would finally learn to chill out.”
Hugh ran a hand over his face, his expression so closed it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. “Does Ivy know about this?”
“Of course.” Hope hesitated, wrinkling her nose. “But I don’t think she believes it. She doesn't exactly have a great relationship with our mom. And Ivy’s always preferred to expect the worst possible outcome. That way she can’t be disappointed.”
“She’s scared to even try,” he said softly.
“Right! But you have to make her try, Hugh. Don't let her push you away. Just, just sweep her off her feet and kiss her!”
“Damn it, that's a tempting thought,” Hugh muttered. He picked up his glass of water, shaking his head slightly. “I don't know, Hope. I rushed into one irreversible decision, and look where it got me. I need to think about this.”
Hope opened her mouth to argue further…and then saw the red ring around the bottom of Hugh’s glass.
It wasn't his glass.
Ivy's never careless, she'd told Betty…but she had been. And now Hugh, oblivious, was raising her venom-contaminated drink to his mouth.
“Hugh, no!” Hope flung herself forward, with one hard, frantic push of her wheels. “Stop!”
The edge of her wheelchair crashed into his thighs, knocking him off-balance. Ivy’s glass slipped from his hand. As if in slow motion, Hope saw it tumble, glittering water droplets scattering outward in a deadly arc.
Straight into her own face.
Chapter 27
Ivy came out of the emergency care ward to find Hugh sitting alone in the waiting room, his head in his hands. He sprang up as she entered, face pale and every muscle tense.
“Is she…?” He left the sentence hanging in midair, looking near-sick with worry.
“She’s going to be all right,” Ivy said, and her own tight chest eased a little at the sight of the relief that washed over his face. “She’s still unconscious, but she’s breathing on her own again now. I left Betty watching over her. She’ll let us know when she wakes up.”
Hugh closed his eyes for a moment, hi
s lips moving soundlessly in prayer. Then his expression tightened, relief turning to self-recrimination. He sank back down into the plastic chair.
“She got hurt because of me. Because of my carelessness.” He leaned his forehead against his clenched fists, elbows braced against his knees. “I couldn’t even do anything to help her.”
None of that was true. It was Ivy’s fault, her own carelessness, that had nearly killed her sister. Hugh had saved Hope’s life, by performing CPR until the ambulance arrived.
She ached to tell him that. She wanted to wrap words of love around him, embracing him with her voice as she couldn’t with her arms. To take away the burden of guilt that slumped his shoulders.
But she didn’t.
Our mate hurts! Her wyvern pushed at her, urging her forward. He needs us, now!
It was the hardest thing she’d ever done, but Ivy set her feet, even though every instinct screamed to go to him. No matter how much she wanted to comfort him and be comforted in return, she couldn’t.
If she was going to save him from worse pain later…she couldn’t ease his agony now.
In fact, she had to make it worse.
NO! Her wyvern reared up in her mind, spitting acid. He is our mate! We can never hurt him!
Ivy ignored her agitated animal. “Hugh, this shouldn’t have happened. It wouldn’t have happened if you still had your unicorn.”
He jerked as if she’d slapped him in the face. “You think I don’t know that?”
“I think you’re desperately trying to pretend that nothing’s changed. But it has, Hugh.”
“I know. I do know, Ivy. I’m trying to get better.”
“But you aren’t. You won’t. The way you are now? That’s the way it’s always going to be. And I can’t cope.”
Finally she understood why all the other firefighters of Alpha Team had rejected her, why they hadn’t been able to stand to have her in the same room as their mates. Because now that Hugh wasn’t immune to her venom, she felt exactly the same way. She couldn’t stand to have her mate in the same room as herself.
Even now, her awareness of the deadly venom slicking her palms made her want to bolt out the door. Her very presence put her mate in danger.
No shifter could stand that.
Hugh was staring at her, motionless. All the color had drained from his face. “Ivy, what are you saying?”
“I can’t go through this again.” She gestured around at the ER waiting room. “I can’t be constantly watching you, making sure no one gets hurt.”
Hugh dropped his gaze in shame. He rubbed his right bicep in an unconscious, habitual gesture, and she knew that he was thinking of the dead leaves tattooed there. Thinking of how close he’d come to having to ink another failure onto his skin.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “Not that it makes any difference. If…if you don’t want me around Hope any more, you two could move out. I could make sure I only see you alone, when she isn’t around.”
“It’s not just about Hope. It’s about you, Hugh.” Taking a deep breath, she told him the truth. “I’m so scared of hurting you. It’s all I can think about, every second that we’re together. And I can’t live like this any more.”
“But you don’t have to!” He shot to his feet, as fierce and desperate as her wyvern. “Hope told me about your mother, how she thought she wouldn’t be toxic around her true mate. What if that’s true? What if you can’t hurt me?”
“I did hurt you, Hugh!” How could he even think of clinging onto this false hope? “I took your unicorn! Your father was wrong, and now you want to trust my mother, the woman who’s in jail for murder? Haven’t we learned by now that being true mates isn’t some magic get-out clause that solves everything?”
He hesitated for a second, the bitter truth of the words clearly hitting home. Then he shook his head stubbornly.
“We have to at least try. And this is the perfect opportunity, while we’re in the hospital, so if anything does go wrong, help is close at hand.” He took a step toward her, reaching out. “Please, Ivy, we have to—”
“Don’t touch me!”
He froze at her shriek. She scrabbled away from him, pressing her back against the far wall. She was sweating, terror of hurting him making her skin slick with venom. She had to stop him from trying again.
“I don’t want you to touch me,” she lied.
If he’d still been a shifter, she would never have gotten away with it. He would have sensed the truth in his soul, felt the way every part of her cried out with yearning.
But he wasn’t a shifter.
He physically staggered, as if the words had knocked all the breath out of him. The back of his knees hit one of the chairs, and he collapsed into it.
She kept speaking, although her wyvern clawed at her mind trying to silence her. “You must have noticed how every shifter looks at you now, Hugh. How they react to you. I’m a shifter. What do you think I see, when I look at you?”
His throat worked convulsively. He stared at her as if she’d suddenly turned into a stranger.
“They only see what’s missing,” he said at last. “But I hoped that you saw what still remained.”
Life had taught her how to hide her feelings. She used every brutal lesson now to forcing her own face into a hard, unyielding mask.
“It isn’t enough,” she said.
She’d seen him bloody and staggering, light running from his wounded horn. She’d seen him curled over, trying to shut out the world. She’d seen his unicorn die behind his eyes.
None of them compared to the look on his face now.
“I can’t be with you any more,” she said, which was true. A monster like her didn’t deserve a man like him. “You have to set me free.”
Hugh’s face went slack for a second—but then his eyes focused again. It was the first time since he’d lost his unicorn that she’d seen him pull himself out of that strange, blank state. He clenched one fist, fingernails digging into his palm as though he was trying to physically hold onto the present moment.
“But we’re mates,” he said. “Nothing can change that.”
“Ash can. He told me he can burn away the connection between us. You won’t even remember it ever existed.”
“You want that?” he whispered, barely audible.
“Yes,” she said, even as her wyvern howled no, no! “Promise me you’ll let Ash do it, Hugh.”
Slowly, his head bowed. He didn’t say yes…but he didn’t say no, either.
“I’m going now.” She had to leave, right now, or else she would crack and undo everything. “Please, let Ash help you. Don’t suffer pointlessly.”
He spoke just as she was stepping out the door. “Where are you going?”
“To the only person who can help me.” She kept her back to him, so that he couldn’t see the betraying tears streaking her face. “Goodbye, Hugh.”
Chapter 28
He’d zoned out. At the worst possible time, right when he should have been chasing Ivy and begging—no, demanding—that she stay. He should have run after her, grabbed her in the corridor, shown her that she was worrying about nothing.
But instead, he’d been frozen, not even aware of time passing. Turned inward, listening futilely. Waiting for his unicorn to guide him. Waiting to be told how he could win back his mate.
When he’d finally resurfaced from the void within, he was alone. Ivy was long gone.
He could only pray that it wasn’t already too late.
He lengthened his stride, barging past other pedestrians regardless of their startled glares and muttered comments. He didn’t need to look down to know exactly where to put his feet. He’d run down this road many times, heart laboring in his chest, knowing that a few seconds delay could mean the difference between life or death.
This time, however, it wasn’t a patient’s life that hung in the balance.
The imposing bulk of the fire station dominated the corner of the intersection. The old brick
building loomed three floors high, above the massive red-doored bays that held the fire engines and other appliances.
Please let them be out on call, please let them not be here!
But all the fire engines were slumbering peacefully behind their red doors. Evidently no emergencies were in progress at the moment. The on-duty shift would all be at the station.
Hugh didn’t waste time on a useless curse. Instead, he ran full-tilt through the staff entrance.
“Hugh!” Chase’s eyes widened at his abrupt appearance. From the greasy rag in the pegasus shifter’s oil-stained hands, he’d been cleaning his beloved fire engine. “Speak of the devil. What are you—“
“Where’s Ash?” Hugh interrupted, panting.
“Upstairs. But, listen, I need to—hey!”
“No time!” Hugh hurled over his shoulder as he took the stairs three at a time.
He crashed through Ash’s office door so hard he literally tore it off its hinges. The Phoenix glanced up from his paperwork, unfazed as always.
“Ah,” he said, as if he’d been expecting the intrusion. “I take it Ivy spoke to you.”
“How could you—“ Hugh’s chest heaved, his words coming in short, gasping breaths. It wasn’t just the physical exertion. He was furious, more furious than he ever had been in his life. “How could you offer—how could you dare—am I too late?”
“If you are asking whether I have already burned Ivy’s feelings for you, the answer is no.” One of Ash’s eyebrows rose very slightly. “Believe me, you would have known if I had.”
The wave of relief that rushed over Hugh was so strong, he had to grip the back of the chair opposite Ash’s desk in order to stay on his feet. He’d beaten Ivy here. He was still her mate.
“Why the hell did you even offer to do such an appalling thing?” he demanded. “Damn it, Ash! You won’t burn someone’s animal, but you’d do this? Why?”
The Phoenix put down his pen, carefully. He steepled his fingers in front of him.
“Because I know exactly how painful it is to be unable to be with one’s mate,” he said quietly. “And if someone could do something to take that burden away from me, I would welcome it.”