by Lola Taylor
Malachite, his hips covered by a loosely bound towel, stood in front of Danica. She glared at him. “I’m not going anywhere with you!”
“I won you,” he said simply.
“So? What the hell do I care? You cheated somehow, and I’m going to prove it!”
“Lower your voice,” he said coldly, reaching for her. “You’re making a scene. It is most unbecoming of a lady.”
“How about this?” She raised her hand to slap him. Her reflexes were already much faster than they were before; she nearly had him when Malachite’s hand shot up, and he caught her by the wrist.
The second their flesh connected, a familiar blue light shone on the back of Danica’s hand.
Time stopped for Gage. It can’t be…. It’s impossible….
When the light dimmed, an indigo pattern of tangled Celtic knots lay on Danica’s flesh. She stared at it, trembling and shaking her head. “No,” she stammered. “This isn’t right. How is this possible?”
“I told you,” Malachite said, reaching up and taking a piece of her hair between his fingers. He ran his hand down her hair slowly, as if savoring the silky feel of it. “You were always meant to be mine.”
Gage stared numbly at his mate, his entire being reeling from the shock. He felt himself go cold.
There was some mistake. Danica was already marked by him. She was his mate. The tattoos weren’t there, but it didn’t mean anything.
Did it?
Sensing he was about to snap, the guards started hauling him forward at a much faster pace than before. Gage regained a sliver of his self-control. “Danica,” he rasped.
Her terrified eyes shot up and found his. “Gage!” she screamed. She rushed forward only to have Malachite snatch her up by the waist and hold her back. She reached for him. “GAGE!”
“Danica!” He struggled, straining to see the woman he so desperately loved but was afraid he had just lost forever.
The last thing he saw before he rounded the corner was an image he would never be able to get out of his head: The beautiful green eyes of his lost mate, staring at him as he was forced to abandon her to the clutches of a maniac.
And the triumph in Malachite’s stone-cold eyes as he mouthed, “I win.”
This couldn’t be happening. Danica refused to look at the Mark on her hand, though she could feel the magical residue of its imprint tickling her skin. It only made her more determined not to think about it, which in turn made her think about it. It was a vicious cycle of suckage.
After Gage was hauled off to the dungeons, Danica had begged Alara to let her see him. She could tell Alara felt guilty for allowing the match to take place anyway, and Danica would be lying if she said she hadn’t played upon that guilt to needle Alara into allowing her to visit Gage.
She turned and marched in the direction they had taken him before the, “Yes,” had fully cleared Alara’s lips.
Alara had sent two guards to escort her, and Malachite made no move to stop her. Danica had almost wished he’d at least tried. Then she’d have another excuse to try to slap him.
She was so angry and confused, she wanted to beat his face in. She didn’t fancy herself a violent person, but the idea of him touching her in the way Gage had during their mating ceremony made her gag.
She refused to think about that. Right now, she had to focus on being strong for Gage. Thinking of her mate made a deluge of sorrow wash through her, like the sun would never shine again.
Danica felt like an inmate walking Death Row as she descended the dank stairwell into the dungeons below the castle. Her knees shook, and she had to keep a hand along the wall to keep from tripping. The sense that her life was falling apart and all her dreams were shattering overwhelmed her. This couldn’t be happening. Gage wasn’t supposed to lose. He couldn’t lose. He was strong and true and fearless and the man she truly loved.
Weren’t the good guys supposed to win? Didn’t that always happen in the movies? She suddenly felt childish for thinking so. The naive girl she was when she first met Gage was slowly slipping away, replaced by someone whose heart had stone walls built around it due to a lifetime of broken expectations. Still, the part of her that was hurting demanded an explanation.
Why is this happening? Is it all another test? What good can come of this?
She used to believe everything happened for a reason. “Tests are there to make you stronger,” her aunt had told her when she was younger. It had been her response whenever something bad had happened.
It was “just a test” when her mom died.
It was “just a test” when her boyfriend dumped her.
It was “just a test” when she got made fun of in school for not having the most stylish clothing.
Danica had whole-heartedly believed her aunt while growing up. But with every new test she faced, and every year she grew older, she started to doubt her aunt’s statements.
Were they all just “tests” or simply bouts of bad luck?
Danica was starting to feel like she couldn’t see any way another test could help her. If anything, it was only making her more tired and bitter.
Torches lined the walls of the dark hallway at the foot of the stairwell. “This way, ma’am,” one guard said solemnly as he led her through the passage.
Danica barely took notice of her surroundings. Shock came closest to what she felt, the same, familiar numbness that had swallowed her whole when she realized her aunt had abandoned her. The same way she’d felt when she found out her father was going to miss yet another birthday or Christmas because he’d be in jail again.
The dungeon was dark and well kept. She thankfully didn’t see any rats as she’d been halfway expecting. Hollywood had ruined her expectations of what a classic castle dungeon looked like. This was the twenty-first century, not the sixteenth.
Each cell was about eight feet across and eight feet deep. Iron bars lined the walls, and each cell had a modest cot, along with a small sink and a toilet. Danica wrinkled her nose. Despite the modern accommodations in each cell, she would die if she had to do a number two in front of someone.
With everything that’s going on, this is what you’re thinking about?
“We’re here.”
Her heart nearly stopped beating as her head shot up. Werewolf eyesight, she had to admit, was pretty impressive. Strangely enough, of all the changes that had been happening to her body since she mated with Gage, seeing more clearly in the dark had been the easiest to adapt to.
She paused in front of the cell the guards had stopped at, making out the figure of her mate beyond the bars.
She instantly went forward and gripped the cold iron as Gage did the same. Their lips met in a passionate kiss, though the angle was awkward thanks to the barrier. The bars pressed into her face as she strained to kiss her mate. When they broke the kiss, Gage gripped her hands. “I didn’t do it,” he whispered. “I didn’t use magic. I can’t.”
“I know. I believe you. Malachite had to have had something to do with it. He couldn’t have been playing fair.”
Footsteps approached, along with a deep voice that echoed off the lonely, spooky corridor. “Try to justify it all you want with your imaginative stories, but saying I cheated makes the outcome no less real.”
Danica growled and whirled around, leveling every ounce of hatred in her body at Malachite. “What the hell are you doing here? Can you not even grant me a moment alone with my mate?”
“He is not your mate anymore,” Malachite said calmly. “I am. I won you.”
Her head nearly exploded in outrage. She was surprised smoke didn’t start to seep out of her ears. “You—that—how dare you! I’m not some stuffed animal you won at the fair! Don’t treat me like an object with no feelings and no freewill!”
“I apologize,” he said, starting toward her. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Too late for that,” she snapped, smacking away his hand before it could caress her face. With anger fueling her resolve, she boldly
walked up to him and looked him in the eyes. “What happened in the garden, or at any point after that, makes no difference to me. Even if you claim me as yours, I swear I will never stop looking for a way to break the spell.”
Malachite sighed tiredly and looked at her with sadness in his eyes. “When will you learn I’m not going to hurt you?” He reached for her hand. She tried to jerk it out of his reach, but he grabbed hold of her anyway and held her hand to his heart. “I swear I will be good to you.”
“I hate you,” Danica spat, angry tears pricking her eyes. Dammit, why did she have to cry every time she was upset? “You have ruined the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me, and I despise you for it.”
Hurt flashed through his eyes, replaced by simmering anger. “You may feel that way now, but you won’t always hate me. Either way, you mate with me tonight.”
Danica could scream. She thought about punching him but kept her anger thinly in check. “Aren’t you leaving?”
“I have something I wish to discuss with Gage,” Malachite said. “In private.”
Danica’s eyes flashed to Gage with worry. “I’m not leaving.”
“It’s fine,” Gage said, giving her a thin smile. “Alara promised she wouldn’t let anything happen to me.”
Danica smiled inside. That was a reminder to the guards standing nearby that if they broke the princess’s commandment, they’d have hell to pay. Catching on, she said to the guards, “Well, you heard him, boys. And now you have a witness that Malachite was down here. And considering the princess is my sister-in-law, I’d be sure to make her proud.”
Not ready to admit defeat, she couldn’t bring herself to say “was my sister-in-law.” She had no idea what this bogus Mark meant, if anything.
The guards nodded, each going for the gun on their belt. “We are loyal to our princess. We swear no harm will come to him.”
Danica appraised them. “It’d better not.” She brushed past Malachite, roughly bumping into him and causing him to take a step back as she went to the cell. “I’ll find a way to get you out,” she said to Gage. “I promise.” She kissed him again as passionately as she could, knowing full well Malachite was watching.
He cleared his throat, a scowl on his face, which only made her drag out the kiss longer. At last she pulled away from Gage and shone a snarky smile at Malachite.
“That’s the kind of kiss you’ll never get from me,” she said and turned on her heel to stalk off.
Gage couldn’t take his eyes off Danica as she walked away. Even when his eyes started to burn, he didn’t blink for fear it would be the last time he’d ever see her.
Come on, Danny, look back at me. Please. His soul yearned for it, more than oxygen or water. If he had a dying wish, it would be to see those beautiful green eyes of hers again.
Just when he thought she wouldn’t look back, she paused with her hand on the wall and glanced over her shoulder at him. For a precious moment in time, their eyes met and he swore he felt connected to her. Her love shone through her gaze, so real he could feel it.
I love you too, Danica. With all my heart and soul.
And then she was gone, the tears shining in his eyes haunting him for the silent few seconds that followed her departure.
Malachite put his hands in his jeans pockets and leaned against the cell. He stared at the floor, a pensive look to his face. “I hated to do this to you. But I had to have her.”
“Yeah. You sound sorry.” Gage had to walk away from the bars. Otherwise, he ran the risk of reaching through them, grasping a handful of Malachite’s freshly pressed shirt, and slamming his head against the bars.
The fantasy made him smile. Then Malachite spoke and things went to shit again.
“I can’t wait to feel her body against mine as I claim her.”
Gage nearly charged the bars. “You’ll never lay a finger on her!” he snarled.
“It looks like that’s not for you to decide.” Malachite barely contained his smile. It looked like he was enjoying this far too much.
Probably was, that smug son of a bitch. Ever since Gage bested him for the rank of Alpha, he knew it was only a matter of time before Malachite sought revenge. No true Alpha could just walk away from a humiliating situation with his tail between his legs.
Gage stared at him with loathing. “You don’t love her.”
That caught him off guard. “I could.”
“No, you won’t. You don’t know how to love. You never have.”
“Stop it.”
“Be a man and admit it, Malachite.” Gage grasped the bars, leaning forward. “You just can’t stand the thought of me being happy and getting what you can’t ever have.”
Malachite’s eyes flashed gold as he snarled and shook the bars. The whole cell rattled as a low growl emanated from his chest.
Guns cocked behind him. “Step away from the cell, Malachite. Or we’ll shoot.”
The gold in Malachite’s eyes faded away, and his growl turned into a dark chuckle. He smiled. “It hurts to be betrayed, doesn’t it?” he said softly.
“I couldn’t let you keep hurting people.”
“And yet you hurt the only packmaster who would take you and your unruly brother in.”
That almost hurt, had Gage not had years’ worth of horrific memories to dull the sting of regret.
“That’s the thing about betrayal,” Malachite said. “It has consequences. A single event can trigger ripples that set a plot for revenge into motion. As I told you when you beat me, Gage—what goes around truly does come around.”
Malachite straightened and tugged at his shirt to get out the wrinkles. “I’m done here,” he said to the guards. He cast Gage one last triumphant smile. “Think of me tonight when I’m ravishing Danica.”
“Gaahhhhhhh!” Gage roared as Malachite sauntered away. The bars weren’t completely sanded. Their rough texture grated against his hands as he pulled at them, but they wouldn’t budge.
He seethed as Malachite began whistling.
I’ll kill you for this. Then you won’t ever be able to hurt the ones I love again.
With every passing minute, Gage was on the verge of tearing out his hair. According to his watch, which he kept glancing at every five seconds, thirty agonizing minutes had passed. Aside from the company of the two stoic guards who didn’t seem particularly interested in him, Gage had largely been left alone with his thoughts.
And when you were close to going out of your mind with worry to begin with, that was a very dangerous thing.
One thought in particular kept racing through his head, and it made him sick at his stomach.
That bastard better not touch her. If he hurts her, I swear—
The guards who’d been watching over him slammed into the cell, making the bars rattle and causing Gage to nearly leap out of his skin. “Dammit! What the hell?”
“Sorry ’bout the scare, bro,” Nik said as he knelt and retrieved the keys from one of the now unconscious guards’ belts. “I was worried when I first crept down here that the guards would hear me. Luckily for me, you were pacing about and muttering to yourself like a lunatic. That created a nice diversion, by the way.”
Gage was still trying to keep from swallowing his heart as Nik unlocked the cell and opened the door. “Thanks,” Gage said breathlessly.
Nik grinned. “What are brothers for?”
“Does Alara know you’re here?”
“I think she suspected where I was going when I said ‘I need some air.’” He shrugged. “She hasn’t stopped me. If anything, I think she wanted me to break you out.”
Gage immediately started walking toward the exit when Nik grabbed hold of his arm.
“Whoa, hold up there, Prince Charming,” Nik said. “You can’t go barreling in there without some kind of a plan.”
“I don’t have time for a plan!” Gage hissed, trying to keep his voice down. “Malachite could be… fuck!” Dammit, he couldn’t even bring himself to say it. He knew Danica would ne
ver willingly sleep with Malachite, which meant Malachite would have to use force….
I’m going to kill him.
Rage scorched his veins, making his inner wolf growl.
Nik rested a hand on his shoulder. The devilish gleam he’d gotten before every street fight and every werewolf brawl shone in his gaze now.
“Since you don’t have time to make a plan,” he said with a crafty smile, “it’s a damn good thing I came up with one on the way down here.”
Danica had almost made it out of her window when two men came in and grabbed her. She’d fought, kicking and screaming the entire way down the hallway as they dragged her toward her fate.
People stared and other royals turned their noses up at her, muttering about her “wild behavior.”
Propriety be damned. She was not going down without a fight. She’d claw Malachite’s eyes out if she had to.
She was still struggling as they opened the door to a large suite with similar furnishings to her own. Silk sheets had been folded back on the bed, and red rose petals were scattered in a path from the door to said bed. If this had been the room she shared with Gage, she would have thought it to be a bit cliché but sweet.
Now she’d be lucky if she could ever look at another rose and not feel nauseated.
Malachite, clad in nothing but a black bathrobe, stood by the fireplace. He turned and frowned as they brought her in.
Seeing him like that drove a spike of fear into her heart. She dug her heels in, causing one of the men to stumble. He growled and grabbed a handful of her hair, jerking her forward and nearly throwing her to the floor. She cried out as pain lit up her scalp.
It only lasted a second because Malachite was on the man like white on rice. His large fingers dug into the man’s throat as he stood there gasping and wriggling to get free. “Touch her again like that,” Malachite seethed, “and I’ll have you skewered in your sleep. Now get out. Both of you.”
He shoved the man backward, and they both turned and fled as fast as they could. Danica sat on the floor, trembling. God, she was so scared. Why couldn’t she force herself to think straight?