by C. A. Worley
Loving Evelyn was the only thing worth living for. With that final thought, he opened his eyes.
Chapter 30
Marrok stood on a narrow ledge, overlooking the ocean. The salted wind whipped his hair and cooled his skin. He spun to take in his surroundings.
He was standing on the small lip of a cave carved into the face of a cliff. It was over two-hundred feet above the water and at least fifty feet below the overhang leading to flat land. Shades of red clued him in to his location.
Prajna’s coastline was full of shiny, black stone. Gwydion’s was made up of sandy beaches. The Northland shores of Burghard were heavy with thick vegetation and the climate was cold, much colder than this place’s warm temperature.
The red volcanic rock was a trademark of Sundari’s southern coast. He was somewhere in the Southland. It couldn’t be the Corak Peninsula, whose coast was protected by ancient magics to prevent invasion from the sea. The magics of that place wouldn’t allow Dmitri to dwell within the cliffs.
Was this a normal dream? Disappointment landed on his shoulders right before his demon came to full attention. She is here. Look at the sky.
The sky was full of purples and blues, shades not made by the natural atmosphere. It looked just like Evelyn’s dream sky. It was the first time he’d dreamwalked to his mate in a setting outside of Gwydion.
She was alive so she wouldn’t be at the bottom of the cliff. With nowhere else to search, Marrok unsheathed his weapon and entered the narrow mouth of the cave. He moved cautiously, unsure what dark magics Dmitri might have at his disposal, like another demon who could break into Evelyn’s dream as Brennen had.
Orange and yellow light flickered ahead, where the passage made a sharp turn to the left. He could hear the mute crackling of a fire. His nose picked up the scent of burning wood combined with something putrid.
He moved faster. When Marrok got to the bend, he lifted his sword, preparing to fight. Silently, he rounded the corner.
The small circular space was well-lit by twin fires. One campfire at the back of the cave, and one blazing lump to his right. It looked like a pile of rags set afire.
The fetid stench of something that had been alive when it burned singed his nose hairs. Dmitri, his demon spirit rumbled.
Evelyn was on her side, her back to him. Marrok did a onceover, checking for danger. Nobody else was here.
He sheathed the blade and knelt behind his mate. Dampness soaked into the fabric where his knees touched the ground. Marrok’s eyes dropped to the dark shadow under Evelyn’s form.
No, not a shadow. Blood.
Carefully, he rolled her to her back and his heart stopped. The jeweled handle of the dagger protruding from her chest shimmered brightly, reflecting the nearby flames.
Marrok debated removing the knife, but he didn’t know what would happen if he did. He checked her pulse. It was slow, but it was there. She’d lost a lot of blood and needed a healer.
He needed to wake and get help. Conjuring a short blade, he shifted to lie down beside his mate. As gently as he could, he slid one arm under Evelyn. He hooked one leg over both of hers, trying his best to hold on to her body in any way he could.
Marrok brought the hand holding the short blade across Evelyn’s torso, cognizant of not jostling the jeweled dagger. He cut the palm of his hand and quickly gripped the strap of her leather harness, praying to the Goddess he could pull her with him.
If he couldn’t, he’d have to search for this location. Even with Hale’s assistance, the chances of finding her before she bled out were slim to none.
He waited. Nothing happened.
Marrok sliced his hand again. Still nothing. Frustration and fear had him digging it deep into the underside of his forearm.
Finally, he felt the welcome dissolution of the dreamworld. He clutched Evelyn to him, begging the Goddess to save her, to let him hang on long enough to break her out of this nightmare.
* * *
Marrok’s eyes fluttered, the remaining fragments of sleep slowly falling away.
“What the—call for the healer, Favin. Now!” Danil’s low tenor barked and hurried footsteps scuttled off towards the door.
The bedding was wet under Marrok’s side, as was skin of the body he held. Hair caught on the scruff covering his jaw. Long, red hair.
He’d done it.
A moment of elation ran through him, cut off by the horrified look on Danil’s face. He was leaning over the opposite side of the bed, inspecting both Evelyn’s torso and his king’s arm.
“Slide your arm out from under her, Marrok. One of your cuts is deep and won’t stop bleeding without pressure.”
Marrok gingerly disentangled himself from Evelyn, sitting up beside her. His right hand stroked her forehead. She felt clammy. He forced himself to remain calm. Help would be here any second.
Danil tore a strip of fabric off from the sheets. “Here,” he said, tossing it to Marrok. “Wrap that up until someone can look at it.”
Marrok rolled the rag around his arm, watching Danil study Evelyn’s wounds. Her face was bruised and bloodied, already swollen. The fingers on her right hand, misshapen.
Danil’s eyes lingered on the knife. “Tell me that bastard is dead.”
“If the dreamworld was her real memory, then he’s dead. My little mate removed his head and set him on fire.”
“Let’s hope that wasn’t just wishful thinking manifesting in her dreams.”
Favin bolted into the room, Salix, the healer, close behind. Marrok moved off the bed so the male could tend to his mate.
Salix reached for Marrok’s arm and he jerked it away. “See to my saatus.”
“Of course, Sire.” The healer pressed his fingers to Evelyn’s wrist.
“Her pulse is weak. She’s lost a lot of blood. With your permission, I’m going to cut away her top.”
Marrok nodded.
“Here,” Danil offered, holding out his small pocketknife towards Salix. “Cut away the leather and lift the sheet.”
Salix took the item and quickly sliced the front of Evelyn’s leathers. Gently, he pulled the top apart and lifted the sheet to cover her nakedness.
The healer’s hands skimmed the place where the steel entered her flesh.
“I was afraid to remove it,” Marrok stated.
Salix’s brows slanted downward. “It’s embedded deep. She should have lost more blood than she has. Honestly, I’m not sure how she’s still alive.”
Marrok took a shuddering breath. “Can you save her?”
“I don’t know, Sire. I think she may be beyond my help.”
“Marrok?”
The King swiveled his head to his Second.
“Hale is here, sooner than planned. He and his entourage arrived right before you awoke. Maybe you should have him take her to Theron. The priest has healed severely wounded beings in the past.”
“Bring him to me. Ask if any of the others have been to Terenuskit. If they have, take Danil and check on Lazlo. If not, I’ll send Hale back to teleport you.”
Favin bowed and opened the door. “Hale? We need you.”
Hale came into the room, blanching when he saw Evelyn on the bed. “What do you need?” he asked.
Marrok carefully lifted his mate. “Take us to Theron.”
Hale planted a hand on Marrok’s shoulder and ported them to the entrance to the temple. Theron was there, waiting with the door propped open.
“You knew this would happen,” Marrok accused walking up to the old man.
Swirling violet and silver looked right past him, right down into the Demon King’s very soul. “It was one of the possibilities, yes. Of them all, this was the only one where she lived.”
Theron looked over to Hale. “Go back to the palace. Favin needs you. Marrok, let’s get Evelyn to the infirmary and see about removing the vampire’s weapon.”
The priest patted the King’s shoulder as he marched past. “I knew you would do it. I couldn’t see it, but I had faith y
ou would.”
“I would do what?”
“Choose her. It was the only way you’d be allowed to keep her.”
Marrok’s step faltered. He shook it off, refusing to consider the possibility of ever living without Evelyn.
Chapter 31
Evelyn awoke to sunlight coming in through the large window next to the bed. Birds chirped with the sweet song of morning.
She reached over for Marrok and winced, a deep ache radiating out from her sternum. Warm hands pushed her shoulders down to lie flat. Confused, she opened her eyes.
She was in a small, white room. Shelving along the wall held dozens and dozens of flasks and corked decanters. The smell reminded her of the medicines that had been forced down her throat when she was a child.
Marrok was sitting at her hip, his worried eyes roaming her face as his hand smoothed back her hair. Why did he appear so upset?
“Theron told me not to take away all of your pain, that you’d need it so you wouldn’t move around too much while you finished healing.”
The memories came flooding back. Dmitri. The cave. Her hands called to the elements, her defenses rising right along with her heartrate.
“Easy,” he soothed, lifting her left hand to kiss each of her fingertips. “You’re safe now.”
“Where are we?” she rasped, her mouth feeling like she’d eaten a bowl of cotton.
“Sanctus Femina. Hale ported us. Five days ago,” he answered, reaching to the side table to pour water from the pitcher into a small glass. “Thirsty?”
“Very.”
Marrok cupped the back of her head and helped her raise enough to take a drink. She reached for the glass, finally noticing the splint wrapped in thick bandages around her hand. She wouldn’t be able to hold anything in it for a long time.
“Let me take care of you, moj draga.”
Something in his voice told her not to argue. She allowed him to hold the drink to her lips while she sipped. When she was done, Marrok lowered her back to the pillow.
He set the glass down, then gave her his full attention. His hands rubbed up and down her arms, massaging tenderly.
“How—how did you find me?”
“I dreamwalked to you. I managed to pull you out with me.”
“Like the night with my, ah, underwear?”
His face sobered. “I’d say this was far different a night.”
Marrok inhaled a shaky breath. “He took you, Evelyn. He took you right from under my nose and there wasn’t a damned thing I could do about it. I thought I’d lost you.”
His golden eyes brightened, glassing over, causing her own to do the same. Her demon warrior had been afraid for her.
She reached for his face and he leaned down for her touch. “You saved me, Marrok.”
“You saved yourself.”
“Not really. I killed him, but I couldn’t do anything about the dagger in my ribs. You came for me. Saved me.”
“Theron saved you.”
Evelyn rolled her eyes. “So stubborn.”
“Says the female arguing.”
She laughed and winced again.
“Damnit. Don’t laugh if it hurts.”
“Don’t argue with me and I won’t,” she shot back.
Marrok’s mouth twitched. He bent down to nuzzle her cheek, inhaling deeply. He relaxed into the aroma of midnight dew on a desert rose. His mate’s scent was as unique as she was.
“You scared the hell out of me, Evelyn.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he whispered, planting a kiss under her earlobe. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I know. I just don’t like seeing you like this.”
“Like what?” he asked, pulling back to see her face.
“Upset. Vulnerable.”
Marrok sighed. “You’ll have to get used it, I suppose.”
“Why?”
“Because I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything in my entire life. I love you more with each passing day. The more I love you, the more upset I’ll be if you are ever harmed. You are my one and only vulnerability, Evelyn. Nothing else in this world matters.”
Tears streaked down her face and Marrok wiped them with his thumbs.
“Shh, don’t cry or I’m going to think you hate hearing me profess my undying devotion.”
Evelyn snorted through her tears, slapping lightly at his arm with her one functioning hand. “Don’t be ridiculous. I like it very much and you know it.”
Marrok’s mouth brushed across hers, featherlight. His tongue glided across the rim of her lips, tasting her tears. Her breathing grew ragged and he caught a trace of her arousal.
“Even injured from a nearly-fatal wound, you desire me.”
He pressed his forehead to hers, his heart filled with wonder. She was such a mixture of attractive ingredients. Intelligent. Beautiful. Strong. Fearless. His saatus hadn’t needed him, she’d taken care of Dmitri herself.
“I’m so proud of you, Evelyn.”
Evelyn laughed, trying to hide the pain from doing so. “You’re proud I’m so attracted to you?”
“Smart-aleck. I’m proud of you for fighting him off. You took his head and set him on fire. That was a nice touch, by the way, ensuring he was dead.”
“Actually, I set him on fire first. I needed to distract him so I could get to my sword.”
“I’ll be sure to thank your father for teaching you to fight. He and your sisters will be here tomorrow.”
Evelyn swallowed. She’d mated before her father even knew about Marrok. It wasn’t going to be an easy conversation.
She yawned, feeling drained.
“Sleep, little mate. I’ll be here when you wake.”
“I need to tell you what Dmitri said.”
“We can discuss it later. Close your eyes and let me watch over you.”
“Okay,” she replied sleepily, drifting off to Marrok’s melodious words whispered in the old language.
* * *
“I think the room’s a little crowded,” Evelyn whispered to Marrok.
“I think we can all hear you,” Kellan whispered back from his spot on the bed closest to the door. The entire group laughed.
“Stupid wolf hearing,” she grumbled and they laughed again.
Not allowed to leave the infirmary yet, her sisters, Theron, and all four kings came to her. Everyone had been updated on what happened to Evelyn this past week. To her dismay, her sisters fussed and coddled and she tried to bat them away each time they approached.
To Evelyn’s surprise, her father hadn’t reacted the way she thought he would. He seemed to take it all in stride and had even congratulated both she and Marrok. Granted, he’d had a week to think on it, so maybe he just needed the time.
None of the others, aside from Theron, had known how bad things had gotten over the years. Each kingdom knew the other faced some sort of plight. Or, at least, they had been. Now, things seemed to be turning around.
“Marrok,” Theron spoke, “please continue with the news Hale brought this morning.”
“As I mentioned earlier, the majority of the rogues ceased their attacks, simultaneously, when, well, when I reacted to the knowledge Evelyn had been taken. At first, they seemed to be in a sort of a daze. We don’t know why or how.”
“And now?” Viktor asked, tracing his fingers across Eden’s back lazily.
“They seem normal. It’s like they woke up from a coma, with no memory of what happened.”
Edward leaned forward in his chair, dropping his elbows to his knees. “Power drains in Gwydion. An unknown sickness killing off the forests of Burghard. No mated pairs or live births in Prajna. Growing madness and limited matings in Sundari. Each epidemic ending shortly after my daughters married.”
Evelyn coughed into her hand. “Um, technically Marrok and I—”
“Will be married immediately. Maybe today while you are all here,” Marrok interrupted.
“I can barely walk, demon. At least let
me heal enough to stand on my own two feet.”
“Anything you want, my love.”
Nora shook her head with humor. “Careful what you promise to Evie. She’ll take advantage.”
He looked down at his mate, with total adoration. “I don’t mind.”
“You should,” Nora deadpanned, prompting Kellan to pull her against him and nip at her neck.
“Yes, a wedding will be most welcome when Evelyn is up to it. In the meantime, I’d like to return to Edward’s point.” Theron looked to Edward.
“My point is only that none of it was a coincidence. We knew something was happening across Imperium. Oddly, the king’s finding their mates seems to have ended whatever has been going on.”
“I think you are correct,” the priest agreed. “Which brings me back to Evelyn. Please tell them what Dmitri said to you before he died.”
Evelyn licked her lips. “He told me we were the threat, Nora, Eden, and I. He quoted Mother’s words.”
“Which ones?” Eden questioned.
“Northland, Eastland, and Southland quest. Heed the threat from the West,” she recited the portent Elora had given when she was a child.
“He said the kings from each of the kingdoms mentioned in that prophecy had found a fated mate, all in the same family, and that it couldn’t be allowed. He thought we were the threat because we would be able to control all of Imperium, a Gwydion on each of the four thrones.”
“Upsetting the balance of power,” Kellan thought aloud. “Too bad they didn’t take into consideration your family wasn’t out for power and that Fate had chosen each of our mates.”
“Messing with Fate and her plans is never a good idea,” Viktor supplied.
Eden stood. “Sephtis Kenelm wasn’t wrong. There is a threat from the West.”
Nora frowned. “Who?”
“Us. Don’t you see? We are the threat. They were right about that and wrong about who or what we threatened, right Theron?”
The ancient’s eyes twinkled. “I would have to agree, yes.”
“Explain,” Viktor ordered the priest.
“I don’t believe Elora’s warning was for a broad audience. It was for a very specific group. It warned the brotherhood to watch their steps, to heed the threat that would end them.”