by Alisa Woods
Jak was so lost in kissing Arianna, he didn’t realize they had stopped.
The bright morning sun glinted off the bare girders all around them in the construction site. Sarra had pulled the Jeep right up onto the bare dirt, next to the construction company’s trailer and several ten-foot-high stacks of sheetrock and lumber. An enormous crane stood silent and unmoving in the center, with a half dozen lifts and diggers filling out the wide-open construction area and waiting for the contractor to settle their dispute and return to work. Half-constructed skeletons of buildings surrounded them on three sides, but at least one had the ground level built out. There were concrete floors and some sheet rock walls up: enough to give them privacy for the spell.
And there was plenty of equipment to bury him once it was done.
Jak was loathe to move Arianna even a centimeter off his lap, but the rest of the crew had already climbed out of the Jeep. He gently eased her down from the high seat of the car, keeping a hold on her hand as he followed her out.
Circe was giving disgusted looks to the dirt-packed ground, but she gamely was making her way in teetering heels toward the enclosed building. Arianna’s brothers were following close behind, but Sarra was holding back, waiting for him and Arianna. And openly glaring at Jak.
She had to know something was up. She knew him better than anyone else here, and that was just the problem: she might guess what was happening before he could complete the spell. He just hoped she wouldn’t say anything… until it was too late to stop it.
Then she could curse him as much as she wanted.
He laced his fingers with Arianna’s and pulled her closer as they trudged toward the building. Not only did he want to touch her as much as possible in these last moments, but he had a feeling his love for Arianna was a kind of shield—one that would make Sarra hold her tongue.
He was right: Sarra’s hot glare finally left his face and dropped to their clasped hands. Then she turned away and marched with stomping boots toward the witch and his fate awaiting in the construction building.
Arianna snuggled closer to his side. “Sarra’s just angry because she doesn’t want to see you get hurt.” He could feel the tremors racing through her body, one small hand holding his, the other gripping his arm. “She’s afraid.”
He frowned down at her, his heart skipping a beat. He knew she was talking about herself as much as Sarra. “There’s no need to be afraid. When I’m…” He swallowed down the lump growing in his throat. “When I’m going through the spell, your brothers will be here to take care of you.”
She peered up at him with an earnest look full of love. Which just made his heart swell… and calmed the writhing tentacles of fear working through his body.
“I’m not afraid.” She was lying; he could feel the fear in every quiver of her body. “I trust you, Jak.”
He blinked, a tsunami of doubt threatening to pull him under. He was lying to her. His last and final act with her would be a lie. He hated that—hated every part of it—but it was necessary. He prayed she would forgive him in the end. For now… he pulled her to a stop and kissed her once more, soft and sweet. Then he laced his fingers with hers again and picked up the pace toward the building. He needed to do this before he lost his nerve altogether. Or Sarra put the pieces together. Or anything else could go sideways to stop it.
Everyone was waiting, a tense circle of silence, when they arrived at the shadowy half-built building. The sun only penetrated in strips that painted the floor with prison-bar shadows that were really reflections of the girders. It gave an eerie half-light, half-dark feel to the concrete-and-bare-steel skeleton.
Sarra was still fuming.
Jak ignored her and turned to Circe. “So, how is this going to work?”
Circe’s earlier smiles had faded. In fact, every face had a grim look to it now, which Jak supposed was fitting for the funeral most of them knew this was about to be.
“I’ll need DNA from both of you,” Circe said, beckoning Jak and Arianna with her long dagger-nailed fingers.
“How’s that?” Jak asked. He really hoped they didn’t have to draw blood or do anything painful to Arianna. That might undo him.
“Just a sample of your hair, you big baby,” Circe said, but her voice was gentle and teasing. She stepped up to them, her heels clacking on the concrete. Using two fingers, she plucked one of Arianna’s long black strands of hair, floating gently in the breeze. Then she reached for Jak’s head, but he stopped her, opting to yank out his own DNA sample for her. She twirled the two bits of hair and follicle-root into a small ball in the middle of her palm.
Jak had seen Hecca, Circe’s sister, do something similar with the Sparks pack female, trying to force her to shift. He also remembered that being far from a painless encounter for the girl. He clasped Arianna’s hand tighter in his.
“Is this going to hurt Arianna in any way?” Jak asked.
Circe’s voice was cool. “It won’t be painful, so much as… uncomfortable. Her mate’s essence will not willingly leave.” She turned to Arianna, towering over her and boring a steady gaze into her eyes. “This is a dark art we are performing, Arianna. You have essentially two wolves inside your blood—yours and your mate’s. To extract one while leaving the other is a delicate thing… not unlike slicing out half of your soul while leaving the other half behind.”
Arianna swallowed visibly. “Whatever it takes… is fine.”
Jak could see her quivering. The witch was scaring her. “Circe.” He put warning in his voice.
Circe threw him a sharp look. “Do you want this to succeed, little wolf?”
He pressed his lips tight. She knew the answer to that.
“It’s important for Arianna to understand what she will be facing,” Circe said carefully, but he got the message: Arianna had to be fully prepared for her side. Especially if she was going to be kept in the dark about Jak’s part.
“Fine,” he said tightly.
Circe turned her attention back to Arianna, whose eyes had gone wide. Circe’s voice softened. “The wolf essence of your mate will not want to leave. And your wolf will fight the separation as well. You must bring everything human that you have to this, Arianna. The part of you that wants to be free of your mate, that’s the part that needs to be strongest today. The spell will work… but there will be less, shall we say, damage, if you can lower your resistance to it and help force your mate’s essence away from you.”
Arianna sucked in a breath. “What do you mean damage?”
“It won’t be a physical thing… more of a psychological trauma. And your wolf… she will suffer the most from this. You need to let her know you’re doing it for her own best interest.”
Jak had no idea how Arianna would do that, but she was nodding like she understood what Circe was talking about.
“It may not be as hard as you think,” Arianna said with a soft smile and a peek at Jak. “My wolf has already submitted to Jak. She already believes he is our true mate. We both know it in our hearts.”
The love on Arianna’s face nearly broke Jak’s heart.
Circe smiled, tightly, and placed her hand sweetly on Arianna’s shoulder. “I’m sure that you do, dear.”
Jak had to look away. They needed to do a whole lot less talking and get on with this, or he wasn’t going to make it through. As he was avoiding the love and hope on Arianna’s face—and her conviction that she and Jak were destined to be mates—his wandering gaze found Sarra’s face. And she was red in the face with fury.
He whipped his gaze back to Circe. “We need to move this along.”
She took a deep breath. “Very well.”
But Sarra was already crossing the dozen feet of concrete floor between them, fists clenched at her side. Circe waved her hand over the tangle of his and Arianna’s hair in her palm. It slowly began to smoke, and Jak could feel it tugging on him, deep inside, bonding him to Arianna. He edged closer to her, taking her hand once more.
Sarra had stopped ju
st behind the witch, hovering there with a murderous look on her face, like she was ready to shift and stop Jak that way. But Sarra couldn’t shift—that had been the problem all along between them, but really, only on her side. Plus her stubborn conviction that he deserved someone better than her, someone just like Arianna, for a mate. And maybe she was right in the end: he was right here, right now, doing the thing he was always meant to do. He could feel that in his bones.
And at this point, nothing could stop him, not even Sarra. She could try, but she wasn’t capable of stopping him physically. And he would just have to ignore her words.
“Jak,” Sarra hissed. “Can I have a word with you?”
“Little busy at the moment.” He avoided looking at her.
The smoking ball of hair in Circe’s palm had transformed into a tiny grayish cloud that hung just above it. She lifted her hand up to Arianna’s face, holding her other hand above it, as if cupping the cloud with both hands, while in reality touching neither. It was a ball of spell, and Circe was whispering incantations into it. Small lightning strikes appeared within the ball, sparking and crackling the air with magic.
Sarra shoved past the witch to stand right in front of Jak. She stared angrily up into his face. “I need to talk to you about this… now.”
“Sarra, please,” Jak begged her. “If you’ve ever loved me…” If he ordered her away, would she go? He just needed another minute to make this happen. With each snap of lightning in Circe’s spell, he could feel that twinge inside growing stronger, binding him closer to Arianna. He could already sense the two wolves within her: her own and Mace’s. He needed to focus, to draw Mace out when the time was right.
And Sarra needed to leave him alone. But she was still in his face.
“If I ever loved you?” She was spitting angry now. “I love you now, Jak Roberts.” She threw a pinched look to Arianna. “Not in the way she loves you. Or the way you love her. I don’t mean like that. I love you like a friend… one who wants to know what the hell you think you’re doing here!”
Jak didn’t say anything, just ignored Sarra and turned to look at Arianna. The bond between them was intensifying. He met her gaze, and there were fine lines forming at the corners of her eyes as she squinted with it, too. It wasn’t so much pain as… discomfort. Like Circe said. He hoped that was all it would be for Arianna in the end.
“Jak!” Sarra grabbed hold of his arm, forcing his attention back to her. She searched his face. He wasn’t sure what she wanted to see there.
Marco had come up behind her. He gave a nod to Jak then laid a hand on Sarra’s shoulder. It was a gentle touch, but she jumped from the contact, then threw suspicious looks back and forth between Jak and Marco.
“Oh my god,” she said, almost a whisper. “You’re in on this together.”
She knew.
Jak closed his eyes briefly, then opened them to stare Sarra in the face.
“You stop this right now,” she said, lips trembling.
“Jak?” Arianna’s worried voice punched him in the gut.
He squeezed her hand and threw her a soft look. “It’s going to be all right, Arianna. I promise.” Then he turned back to Sarra. “You always knew this was how it would go, in the end, Sarrabear. You even said it yourself. I was meant for someone else.”
Her eyes were wide, and her head shook back and forth in tiny movements.
He put his free hand, the one not holding Arianna’s hand, on Sarra’s shoulder. “This is the single best thing I’m ever going to do.”
She shook her head more fervently.
He grimaced. The bond was squeezing on him. “Don’t ruin it for me, okay, Sarrabear?”
She gaped at him, but he couldn’t wait any longer. He swung to face Circe, who was watching him with a razor-sharp eye, the ball of magic twitching and sparking in her hand.
“Do it,” he told her.
As fast as the lightning in her palm, Circe smashed her hands together then rent them apart, a piece of magic cloud in each. She quickly blew on each hand in turn, one long sweeping breath. The two clouds puffed over them, one into Arianna’s face and one into Jak’s.
Arianna gasped.
Sarra screamed, “No!”
Jak couldn’t pay attention to either one because it felt like his soul was ripping in two.
The bond he had with Arianna shattered. He fell to his knees, not so much with pain, but the sudden disconnection was giving him massive vertigo. He reeled with the sensation of it. And yet… he wasn’t entirely disconnected. He still held her hand, but more… he could feel tenuous threads, like straws piping something, some essence, from her into him. It was like a thick oil sludge dripping straight into his veins, and each drip brought with it a welling up from deep inside him. At first it was an ache, like a toothache or a headache that nags at you all day, but never really makes its presence known. But it kept growing… and growing… each drip making it stronger, until it was the pounding, skull-splitting kind, the headache that lays you out for an entire day.
He tried to keep the groans inside, but it was getting harder.
Still the drips came, only now they were more of a pumping gush, filling him with a sludge that was drowning him, dripping into every tiny crevice of his body. Then the gushing stopped, and he could feel the entirety of it—almost like he had been wholly possessed by a dark spirit.
Mace’s wolf.
Jak’s wolf snarled and howled, but there was nowhere to turn, nothing to do. The enemy was inside him. He dropped Arianna’s hand and clutched at his stomach. He fell forward, but kept himself from falling on his face by bracing his hand on the cool concrete floor. He really didn’t want to throw up. He wanted the end to come with some kind of dignity… but the pain was really starting to escalate now. His wolf was howling in his ears.
Jak felt hands on him, urging him to turn, to lie down. His body was starting to cramp up, so he couldn’t resist them. His vision was blurred, white stars shooting across it from the rippling pain that was tearing him apart from the inside out. He blinked so he could see the faces hovering over him.
It was Arianna. Beautiful Arianna, her face all squished up and worried for him. Tears raced down her cheeks, but he couldn’t uncramp his hands to brush them away. Her lips were moving. She was saying something. But sounds seemed to come and go, like he was moving through a tunnel and cars were speeding past him, taking their blaring horns and near-misses with them. He tried to focus past the blinding pain. Tried to hear the things she was saying.
Somewhere in the background, Sarra was cursing like a sailor. It would have made him smile, except his face was frozen in a grimace. He strained to shut out the background and just focus on Arianna’s shining face above him. Her beautiful, brilliant blue eyes. If that was the last thing he saw in this world, it would be okay. It would be enough.
Her words leaked through the shrieking pain inside his head. “Jak… Jak… stay with me… please…”
He licked his lips. So dry, they cracked. It was such a small pain on top of the large one singing through his body—two wolves locked in a death dance at the DNA level. He tried to speak, but it was only whooshes of air, no sound. Just grunts… and he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to get those last words out… the ones he wanted to say, but couldn’t. Not until the very end.
He concentrated everything he had on forming words. He thought of Arianna’s sweet hands, now on his face, holding his cheeks. Her tears dripping on him. And somehow he managed to get his lips to cooperate and make sound.
“You,” he gasped, speaking it just for her. The one word felt like a triumph. He pushed for more. “You… are meant… for someone better than me.” The words laced through the gasps, but he heard them. He hoped she could hear them too.
Her eyes went wide with alarm. And he knew that she knew in that moment. Knew that this wasn’t something he was coming back from.
“No, no, no,” she said, over and over.
But he wasn’t finished.
>
“I’m just…” he gasped out, and she stopped her tirade, bending low, placing her cheek against his, wetting him with her tears and bringing her ear close enough for his whispers to reach her. “I’m just… the one who… set you free.”
He heard her gasp. He saw her pull back, but the sounds were gone again. Everything was dimming… the bright morning sunshine of Seattle was darkening, like an eclipse had turned everything into the blood red of sunset. Then darker still. A creeping blackness.
The sludge inside him was waning too. All of it was fading.
The last thing he saw was a single tear clinging to the edge of Arianna’s sweet cheek. It clung, holding on to the bitter end.
Then it fell.
He wished he had the strength for one more kiss.
Then the world faded completely to black.
“I’m just… the one who… set you free.” Jak’s words, broken by gasps of pain, whispered in Arianna’s ear. Her tears were already sliding down her cheek, which was pressed against his so she could hear his achingly soft voice.
But his words… those were the words of a dying man.
She yanked back, the breath stolen right out of her body. No. No, no, no. She couldn’t tell if her words were in her head or coming out of her mouth, but a horrible chill invaded her body, shooting icicles of death through her heart: this spell was killing him.
“Jak!” She clasped his face in her hands, still wet from her tears. “Jak you can’t leave me. You can’t.” She was babbling, and tears were streaming down her face, clinging to the edge then falling down to his cheek, but none of it was stopping his eyes from glazing over. None of it kept his face from going slack in her hands as his eyes drifted closed.
“Nooo!” she screamed. Hands were on her, strong hands, lifting her up and away from Jak, whose face went still as soon as she lost her frantic hold on him.
“No!” Arianna fought to stand on her own unsteady legs and wrenched herself from the hands holding her. They belonged to her brother Marco, whose face was twisted in pain as well, but it was the emotional kind: the kind where he was already trying to comfort her for Jak’s death while his body was still warm on the floor.