Mated in Mist

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  Not anymore.

  It was all too much.

  Instead of focusing on what her brother was doing to save their lives, she did her part. She searched the edges of the pool for another tunnel or pathway, knowing going back the way they had come might be lost to them. Even if Roland dealt with those at the edge of the pool, there were most likely others at the entrance to the tunnel.

  She narrowed her eyes, focusing as hard as she could.

  Tendrils of sensation covered her skin and she fought off a shudder. She hated using magic for this. She’d prefer to heal or help the earth, rather than use it to save herself.

  There.

  A darkened crevice that looked big enough for even Roland’s broad shoulders. She pushed out with her magic, letting it dance off the water molecules in the air. Humans wouldn’t be able to see this, thankfully, but she was draining what little powers she had. Fast. She did her best to settle her pulse so she could sense if the air in the tunnel was stale or not, but it was a lost cause with the screaming, the crash of water, and her brother by her side, doing what he could to save them. She couldn’t concentrate properly.

  Finally, when she was able to center herself enough to focus on her intent, she realized that the air tasted fresh. She could have cried, but held herself in check. She could weep when they were safe. And since she didn’t know if that would ever be possible again, she would just have to hold in the tears. Forever.

  “Roland!” she shouted over the din. “Come on!”

  He turned to her, his eyes wide and dark, but he nodded. Hurting others hurt them. But there was no way around it; to save their lives, they had to do what they must.

  She crawled around the edges of the pool as the humans who made it out of the water surge coughed and hacked. If she and Roland moved quickly enough, they could be through the crevasse and out of the cave before the humans gathered themselves.

  With Roland behind her, they made it to the opening where they could stand fully. Then they ran.

  “Find the fucking witches and burn them!”

  She tripped over her own feet at the shout, but Roland caught her arm. She shook it off and pushed at him, trying to get him to move faster. As long as he was safe, she would be okay. She jumped over a fallen log, the bark digging into her hands as she tried not to fall flat on her face. Her feet ached and her muscles quaked and the last of her energy reserves were depleting far too quickly.

  Leah ran behind her twin brother, her pulse racing in her throat. They were coming. They knew. Roland reached out behind him, and she pushed his hand away.

  “Keep going. I can keep up. Don’t worry about me and end up tripping yourself.”

  She wished she could pull on the water around them now that she had enough in her system thanks to the cave, but it was too dangerous. With those behind them and her body wearing down after running for far too long, using magic would be a death sentence.

  “I’m not leaving you behind, Leah. So run your fucking ass off. There’s a safe house up the road.” He grinned over his shoulder, that lock of hair she loved falling over his forehead. “I’ll never lead you astray, little sister.”

  She smiled at him despite the fact that they were both running for their lives. “You’re not that much older than me, Ro.”

  “It’s enough. Now let’s go.”

  He turned back, only to freeze in his tracks. It took a minute for the crack in the air to register. Roland fell to his knees, and Leah screamed.

  “Roland!”

  She raised her hands, the water on the leaves of the trees from that morning’s rainfall rising into the air with her pain, her agony.

  Another crack rent the air.

  A gunshot. That’s what that was.

  A sizzling pain seared her side, a fiery heat that wouldn’t be quenched by the water at her fingertips. She tried to breathe, only to cough, her legs going out from under her.

  She fell beside her brother, her arms reaching for him, only to come up short.

  Roland lay at an odd angle, his face toward her. His eyes wide, unseeing in death. While the second gunshot had hit her in the side, his had hit him directly in the chest.

  Her brother, her twin, her fellow witch.

  Gone.

  The darkness came, and she didn’t fight. She’d been running for so long, and now she had nothing left.

  Only hollowness.

  They had come for the witches…and they had won.

  Screaming.

  Silence.

  Pain.

  Numbness.

  Breath.

  Choking.

  Drowning.

  Leah couldn’t drown. She was a water witch. Drowning for her would be an insult to everything she was…or was it everything she once had been?

  Was she dead?

  She had to be dead. She couldn’t feel anything, yet could feel everything all at once. It didn’t make sense. If this were hell, she didn’t know how she would make it for eternity with this sense of unknowing.

  Something brushed against her arm and she flinched.

  Wait. She’d felt that. Felt her arm and felt herself flinch.

  Maybe she was alive and merely had to open her eyes.

  Never had the word merely been such a lie.

  Her eyes wouldn’t work. How had she opened her eyes before? Why couldn’t she quite remember?

  Murmurs of voices filtered in through the deafening silence and Leah froze. Or at least she thought she had. She didn’t know what was what anymore.

  “I think she’s waking up.” A deep voice.

  “Will she be dangerous?” Another deep voice.

  “She was all but dead when we found her. Be thankful she’s alive at all.” This voice was just as deep, but it hit her like a sledgehammer. Her magic perked up, reaching out toward the man who had last spoken. She didn’t know why it was doing that, but just the sound of his voice let her body relax and her eyes feel lighter, not so heavy and weighed down.

  “Did you see that?” The first voice asked. “Ryder, speak again. She stopped thrashing at the sound of your voice.”

  Ryder.

  His name was Ryder.

  Why was that important?

  And where was she? Where was Roland? What had happened? And had she truly been thrashing?

  She pried her eyes open and promptly shut them at the bright light overhead.

  “Turn down the lights, Walker,” Ryder ordered.

  Someone touched her hand, and her eyes shot open again. Three bearded men stood over her, gruff looking and scary as hell. She did what any sane woman would do. She shot out her fist, knocked one of them on the chin, then rolled off the bed. They would not have her. They would not dissect her or study her. Use her. The humans chasing her might have called for her death, but if she was now with them, alive and captive, she didn’t want to know what “studies” they were planning. She’d heard the rumors, heard of the nightmares. She would not give in.

  Her chest ached and her side burned something fierce, but she ignored it. Instead, she grabbed the scissors that lay on the counter beside the medical bed she’d woken up on.

  One of the men blocked the door while the other rubbed his chin. The third moved toward her, hands out. She put her back to the wall, aware there wasn’t another way out of the room except her death.

  But she wouldn’t kill herself.

  Not if there was any fight left in her. As a water witch, she may not be inherently violent, but the will to live was stronger than she’d thought. After all that had happened…she still fought.

  “It’s okay,” the one with his hands out said. “It’s going to be okay.”

  She remembered that voice. This one was Ryder. Her inner witch pulsated at his voice, but she pushed that away, not understanding.

  She licked her lips but didn’t lower the scissors. “You can’t have me. I won’t let you kill me.”

  Ryder tilted his head, reminding her of a dog or cat. “Why would you think we would hurt
you, little one?”

  She narrowed her eyes at the term. “You took me to this…place, and now I’m in a medical room with three men I don’t know. I remember you following me, trying to kill me. I remember…” she trailed off. Her throat ached from speaking, but that was not why she’d stopped talking.

  Flashes of memory came at her and she tried to make sense of it all. She’d been running from humans out to get her. She remembered that. But what else? What else had happened? Something sparked just out of reach within her mind, and she lost the fragment as quickly as it had appeared.

  “We weren’t the ones chasing you,” the one rubbing his jaw said gruffly. “I’m Gideon, Alpha of the Talon Pack. We’re wolves. Not the humans who were out for you.”

  Wait. Wolves? Would they try to rip her to shreds like the people who watched too many movies thought? Or were they like her, forced to live in secret for so long that no one truly understood? Unlike other witches, she hadn’t known wolves in person so she didn’t know how they worked. She only knew to keep hidden was to keep safe.

  She frowned, her hand lowering somewhat. She’d just hit the Alpha of the Talon Pack. That probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but she hadn’t known at the time.

  “If you’re wolves, then why do you have me here?” She let her eyes rest on the one they called Ryder, and her magic settled over her, wanting to know more.

  “You don’t remember?” Ryder asked. “You were shot. What’s your name? We found you and another witch in the woods. What was he to you?” He blinked, as if he hadn’t meant to say that part, but Leah didn’t care.

  Instead, she dropped the weapon from her hand and let out a keening wail.

  “No, no, no, no, no.” She shook her head and let her hands come up to her mouth. “No, no, no.”

  Ryder knelt in front of her and pushed the scissors across the floor to where Gideon stopped them with his boot. But she couldn’t care about that. She couldn’t care about anything.

  “Roland…” she choked out a breath. “Roland.”

  “Who is Roland?” Ryder asked, his hand outstretched. When he brushed her shoulder, she didn’t pull back. Instead, she leaned in to his touch. The move seemed to surprise both of them.

  “My br-brother.” She hiccupped a sob. “I’m…I’m Leah. Roland is…was my brother.” Tears fell and she tried to suck in breath, but her lungs weren’t working. “They killed him. They shot him right in front of me.” Her hand went to her side and she winced.

  Ryder scooted closer and let his hand cover hers along her side. “They shot you too, Leah.”

  “He’s gone?” she asked, the blessed numbness not coming back. Instead, all she felt was the agony she couldn’t ignore.

  At Ryder’s nod, she let herself fall apart. There wasn’t a reason to be strong anymore.

  Roland was gone.

  He was the best of them, the one that should have made it. She was just Leah, witch with no home, no family.

  She was alone.

  Forever.

  And with that thought, her soul shattered into a million pieces. She cried and let the tears wash over her, the magic within the water falling from her body, her entire being aching in sorrow. She barely noticed the strong arms wrapping around her, barely noticed the scent of wolf and man settling over her as she wept.

  Wept for the injustice, wept for her brother.

  Wept for herself.

  Because now, she had no reason to keep running, no place to run to.

  She was Leah Helm, water witch with no coven.

  And nothing more.

  Chapter Two

  Ryder Brentwood stared down at the small woman in his arms and tried to keep his wolf from taking control. His inner beast rubbed against his skin, pushing at him to do more than merely cradle the sobbing woman. His wolf wanted to rip anyone who had ever hurt her to shreds. It wanted to take her away from the prying eyes of his brothers and keep her safe and warm in his home. It wanted to tend to her wounds and wait for her to be healthy again so he could slide deep into her warm heat and call her his for all time.

  What the ever-loving hell?

  Ryder didn’t have time for his wolf to go batshit crazy over a woman they didn’t know. And he sure as hell didn’t have time for this mating business. He pushed those thoughts to the side and promised his wolf he’d deal with them later.

  Or not at all.

  Leah gripped his shirt, tugging him closer, and he did the only thing he could do at the moment. He shifted slightly so he could gather her more firmly in his arms and therefore his lap. She curled into him, and he had a feeling she had no idea she was even doing it. Her eyes were closed, and her tears soaked his shirt. At that moment, he was just a warm body for her to grieve onto, to hold onto in the darkest of times. His heart raced, but he did his best to calm it. Her ear was right over his chest, and he knew she could feel the now-steady thump against her cheek. If his wolf could give that to her, then Ryder would, as well. It was the least he could do during her time of grief.

  Of course, the fact that he couldn’t seem to keep his hand out of her soft, honey-brown hair was another matter. Though it looked as if she had been on the run for far too long and hadn’t been able to fully clean it, the strands still felt soft to his touch. It was long, thick, and straight. He could imagine it spread over her pillow as she slept, or even brushing along his skin as they came together.

  No, he couldn’t imagine that. Because he wouldn’t be imagining that.

  She let out a whimper and he tucked her closer. He pressed his cheek to the top of her head, letting her know he was there. She might be a witch, but he was a wolf. Wolves were tactile creatures and needed touch to survive. He’d known a few wolves who’d gone touch-starved in the past under his father’s reign as Alpha. Ryder, as the Heir, would never let that happen. Not while he drew breath.

  Again, he pushed the thoughts of his past and whatever future he didn’t want to think about out of his head. The only thing that mattered at the moment was Leah and her pain. It overwhelmed him, as did the power he felt running through her veins. He’d met a few witches in his time—he was over a century old—but he’d never held one so close. He’d hugged his friend Quinn’s mate Gina before, but it hadn’t been for long. As Quinn would readily tear off Ryder’s face for daring to touch her for more than a moment, Ryder understood. Mating was something precious.

  Mating was something he would never have.

  He closed his eyes, pushing those thoughts from his brain once again. He needed to focus, needed to worry about the here and now—not what would never be.

  Gina was a fire witch. Or, half-witch, at least. Her birth mother had been a witch and her birth father a wolf. So when Ryder hugged her, he felt the crackle of her energy. The former Redwood Pack Healer was an earth witch; her energy was a little more grounded.

  But Leah? Hers was a rush of cool power, flowing over him, under him, through him. And with how weak she was, he knew this wasn’t her at peak energy level. He couldn’t wait to see her at full strength.

  He sniffed, frowned at the coppery scent of blood in the air.

  His gaze shot to his brother, Walker, their Healer.

  Walker, one of the triplets, knelt beside Ryder and Leah with a needle in his hand. “She’s not Pack so my powers won’t do her much good,” his brother explained, his voice a low drawl. “If she keeps moving like that, she’s going to tear her wound right open again.” Walker inhaled deeply. “Or she may have already. It doesn’t smell like she did it too badly, but if we don’t keep her still, it’s just going to get worse.”

  Ryder nodded, understanding. Leah whimpered again, and he ran a hand over her arm. “Leah, keep still, you’re hurting yourself.” He kept his voice light, but the order was there.

  She kept crying, her hands digging into his shirt.

  Walker let out a sigh then injected her with the needle. Leah winced in Ryder’s arms and he did his best to soothe her. When she stopped moving and her bre
ath came in an even rhythm, Ryder leaned back against the wall.

  “Let me take her and put her back on the bed,” Walker said softly.

  “Then we can talk about what comes next,” Gideon, his brother, the Alpha, put in. Gideon had been on the sidelines for most of the encounter, watching with a careful eye as Ryder had done his best to calm and comfort Leah.

  “I’ve got her,” Ryder said without thinking. He should have let Walker take her and walk away, but he couldn’t. Instead, he got curious looks from both of his brothers and a knowing gleam, as well.

  He ignored them and used the wall to help him stand with Leah in his arms. He could have done it easily just by using the strength in his thighs, but he hadn’t wanted to jostle her too much. She was already in enough pain as it was.

  He couldn’t imagine her agony.

  Ryder set her down on the bed and kept ahold of her hand, even though he knew he should let her go. Walker got to work on her gunshot wound while Gideon stood silently by, his arms crossed over his chest.

  Ryder slowly let her hand go and took a step back. His wolf immediately revolted, ramming into him and scraping its claws on the underside of his skin. Ryder took a deep breath, taking control back from his wolf. Despite the fact that his claws threatened to break through the skin of his fingertips, he forced himself to be calm.

  He didn’t understand his reaction to this woman—or perhaps he just didn’t want to.

  “We need a family meeting to talk about what happened,” Gideon uttered into the quiet. “We might need a Pack circle, as well, but a family meeting for now.”

  Ryder nodded. “I’ll round up the troops.” With that, he left his brothers behind so he could go find the others.

  His sister Brynn would be close, he knew. She and her mate, Finn, the Heir of the Redwood Pack, had been the ones to find Leah and her brother. They’d wanted to stay and see the outcome, but neither of them had slept much. They’d been on a hunt with the Redwoods and had heard the gunshots outside the wards. Though the two dens weren’t too close distance-wise, they now shared a border with a tiny strip of neutral land between them at certain points. The gunshots had happened there.