by Amber Kallyn
She could guess what the wolves would do to her if they found her guilty, and there was nothing she could say in her own defense to prove they were wrong.
Chapter Six
Jordan paced the length of the receiving chamber, swerved around the table and headed back to the other end. He wanted to smash something, to let out his rage.
He’d never trust a wolf, but Seth claimed they had proof of Dalia’s guilt.
It ate at him.
He had the strongest urge to protect her from everything, yet at the same time, he couldn’t trust her.
If she’d been working with Thomas, it would explain everything, her control and her power. Sharing Thomas’ blood was the only feasible explanation. The vampire hadn’t cared about anything but his own gain, which meant he must’ve expected Dalia’s help to achieve his goals.
Such a creature wouldn’t risk his power without assurance he could control her.
Jordan clenched his fists tighter, passing the fireplace and striding back towards the windows.
The Judges would decide Dalia’s fate. There was little he could do about it.
Yet he wondered if he’d saved her from slipping into death, only to be ordered to hand her over to the damnable wolves.
They would torture her until they grew tired and finally killed her.
Brandon entered, caught sight of Jordan’s face and backed up closer to the doorway.
“Is it done?” Jordan demanded.
The guard nodded. “Connor will be here.”
“Good.” He wanted his kinsman, one of the few Judges Jordan could trust, to represent their race during the trial.
He paced back to the fireplace.
Brandon followed. “Do you believe the woman?”
“I don’t know.” His gut churned as his chest tightened. Fionah’s words wouldn’t leave him alone, and yet neither would the feelings Dalia stirred.
Glancing at Brandon, he asked, “Did Eric get the security camera’s fixed?”
“Done.”
“What was wrong?”
“Some of the cables had been chewed.”
“Wolves?”
“Yes.” Brandon hesitated, then met Jordan’s gaze. “How did they know where the cameras were?”
Jordan shrugged. “I figure the same way they knew Dalia was awake and alert.”
“You think there’s a traitor here.” Brandon’s shoulders tensed. “None of us would work with the wolves.”
Yet, just recently Jordan had seen wolves and vampires working alongside each other. Thomas had somehow garnered their cooperation.
The only good thing he could see about the situation was that Dalia couldn’t have possibly had anything to do with it. She’d been comatose when the last of his people went missing.
She’d barely woken when the rogue wolves attacked.
He reached the window and stopped, staring out over the forest. It was possible she was innocent. Just as it was possible she was guilty.
Regardless, it meant as much as he hated to believe, there was a traitor in the castle.
He detested not taking action, yet at this point, the only thing he could do was wait. And watch.
Leo knocked on the open door.
Jordan glanced at the man, noticing the lines of worry etched around his eyes and mouth. “We will find Luci.”
“I know.” Shadows flashed in his eyes as Leo thought about the tortures others had been dealt.
They swept through Jordan’s mind as well. He fisted his hands at the impotence he felt at everything going on lately.
Life had been turned from black and white to many shades of gray. It was time to lay out his plans, take action and find some resolution.
Time to find his people.
* * *
Hours later, Dalia ignored the knock at the door and stayed curled up on the window seat.
Jordan’s voice came, muffled through the wood. “Let me in. You need to eat.”
She drew her knees to her chest and continued to stare out the window. Behind her, the door groaned as Jordan pushed it open almost effortlessly even with the heavy furniture she’d moved in front of it.
The door cracked and a splinter snaked up the edge.
As Jordan entered the room, she tried ignoring her raging emotions. She wanted to hit him, throw him out of the room—door or window, she didn’t much care. His scent curled around her sensually, triggering unwanted feelings and pissing her off even more.
How could he affect her like this when she was so mad?
Glass and metal clattered. The tangy spice of blood and food overrode both Jordan’s scent and her stupid roller coaster emotions.
Unable to help herself, she glanced at the tray on one of the tables, with food piled high. Her mouth watered.
“Eat.” Jordan leaned against the wall near the door, scowling.
“No.” She turned her back on him, trying to ignore the hunger roaring in her stomach.
His soft footsteps belayed the stiff tension in the room. He stopped right behind her.
“Shall I apologize for earlier?” His words were stiff, halting as if hard for him to say.
“You can try.” Though some of her anger eased at the fact that he did seem to be trying.
He breathed deeply. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have allowed Leo to carry you off, but you were truly testing my patience.”
Dalia stared up at him. “Testing your patience? You arrogant man. Other people’s feelings have no meaning to you, do they?”
He blinked and stepped back. “Of course they do.”
“Then tell me what’s going on. All I know is I’m accused of doing horrible things, and if I’m found guilty, I get to vacation with the wolves who want to eat me. Yay.”
His eyes narrowed, red bleeding around the blue. “Will you eat?”
Her stomach rumbled loudly and heat crawled up her cheeks at his triumphant expression.
He sat on the bed, waving her to the tray on the small table.
Since she really wasn’t into self-deprivation as a form of revenge, she moved to the table and picked up the cup of blood. Drinking it down, the fire in her stomach once more became controllable.
She lifted the silver dome and stared at the meats and cheeses on a large plate.
Jordan cleared his throat. “Perhaps you might share? I haven’t eaten recently.”
“Get your own.” She carried the plate to the couch and started eating, enjoying his look of longing.
“Tell me about your life,” he said.
She bit into a chunk of sharp cheddar and stared at him silently.
His eyes flashed red and his scowl came back. “I don’t ask unnecessary questions.”
“And why is you knowing about my life needed?”
“Because I want to help you.”
“Why? You think I’m guilty.”
“I admit I have had many shocks recently. Perhaps some of my anger at recent events have fallen on you.” He shook his head slowly. “But I have not determined your guilt or innocence.”
As apologies went, it sucked. She wasn’t even sure if it had been meant as an ‘I’m sorry’. She met his gaze. So stiff and formal, so different from the heat he’d shown her in the shower. Maybe it was better this way. She certainly didn’t want to be some flower falling at his feet—or into his bed.
Just business, then.
“Fine.” She nibbled a thick slice of ham, wondering where to begin and how much to reveal. “I’m the third of four girls. My parents are happy and in love. We’re the picture perfect family.”
She tried to swallow, but her throat was closing up as she pictured them, laughing and playing together. Every night, they made sure to spend time sitting around the dining room table just to talk. About their day, telling jokes, or whatever was on anyone’s mind.
Her parents had one of those fairy-tale relationships, always touching, rarely arguing. Their love for each other shone. And her heart ached with missing them.
&nb
sp; “I grew up on a Montana ranch. We breed and race horses.”
He inhaled sharply. “That’s not what I want to know.”
“Then be specific.”
“Have you ever hurt someone?”
She stared at the still full plate of food, her appetite gone. “I’ve never tortured anyone if that’s what you’re asking.”
“You still have no memories of your time with Thomas?”
“Not a one.”
“This makes things difficult.”
She glanced at him and snorted. “Really? You think?”
He smoothed his hands out, laying his palms on his dark-slack covered knees.
“What did the guy mean when he said I’m not officially your clan yet?” she asked.
“Politics. The Magic Council has laws all Arcaine races follow. One of which is all who wish to join a clan must go through an official ceremony.”
“How many Arcaine races are there?”
“Many. Vampires, werewolves and other shifters, demons, ghosts, you name it and it most likely exists.” His gaze fell on the tattoo on her right leg. From ankle to knee, a colorful dragon curled over her skin.
“Dragons?” she asked. They’d always been her favorite mythological creature.
“Aye.”
“Maybe I’ll get to meet one someday.”
His eyes darkened.
“So how does the whole trial thing work?” She tried to remain calm, breathing steadily as she waited for his answer.
“Shane is Keeper of this territory. He keeps peace between the races. He’ll be in charge of things.” Jordan held out his hands. “He is a fair and honest man. Trustworthy.”
Said who? She was just supposed to trust her life in his hands? She stayed quiet, partly because she was actually getting some information out of this tight-lipped male.
“There will also be two Judges, one appointed by the pack—a wolf of course. I’ve called for a vampire Judge. Connor will be here soon.”
“And they’ll what? Hear the pack’s evidence and then decide whether I’m guilty of killing and torturing wolves under this Thomas guy’s lead?”
Dalia could imagine what the pack would do to her. She could still feel the aches from when the two wolves had attacked her. At least now she knew why they’d called her a wolf killer.
She had no defense. Part of her wondered at the wolves proof. She couldn’t remember her time with Thomas. Was it possible she had done the things she was accused of?
“I want to go home.”
“You can’t go home.” Jordan sat straighter. “You must understand something. They believe you are dead, and it is for the best.”
“What?” her heart sped up, thumping loudly against her chest. “But I’m not dead.”
“For all intents and purposes, lass, you are. Do you wish to endanger them?”
“No, but—”
“The Magic Council has many laws. They will not hesitate to kill any mortal who endangers our secrets. Not to mention, you’d eat your family if you got close.”
“I certainly would not,” she practically shouted.
“Look at my neck.” He tilted his chin and she glanced at his throat.
The beating pulse commanded her attention. Her stomach clenched in hunger, and her teeth lengthened as her mouth watered.
“Now, take that feeling and multiply it by a hundred. You will crave humans until you learn control.” He met her gaze. “Do you understand the dangers?”
She shrugged, though inside, she wanted to scream. She wouldn’t eat her family. Would she?
* * *
Jordan fought the urge to comfort her. Dalia’s eyes, more green than blue, shone with unshed tears, as worry radiated from her delicate skin.
Watching her in such pain, he found it hard to believe she could have done the things the wolves accused her of doing.
Yet, he didn’t know if it was just that he didn’t want to believe.
Something whispered deep inside he must protect her. She was his mate.
No matter how hard he fought, the burning need remained.
And he feared he was falling into the same trap he had a thousand years ago.
The wind whipped through the partly open window, bringing the scent of the highlands, though his homeland was far away. He blinked as the sound of his village under attack roared in his ears, demons and vampires swarming over his people. And above it all a woman laughed.
Only after most were dead, the few still alive turned into creatures of the night, had he realized who had been laughing.
His fiancée.
The woman he’d pledged his life to. The traitor who’d led the beasts to decimate his clan.
He shook the memories away and stared at Dalia. She looked so innocent, so hurt. Yet, even the most innocent could hide a monster inside. Something he knew well.
Tears marked wet streaks down her skin and his instinct to protect, to comfort, roared. Jordan moved to her side and laid a hand on her shoulder.
She shook against his touch, frightened and confused. Doubting herself even as he doubted her.
Energy sparked along his hand where their skin touched. It urged him to his very soul to explore it fully, to learn about this woman—who she was, what made her tick... what made her happy.
This whole situation was more complicated than he’d ever imagined. He had not time for a fated mate. Too many depended on him to keep them safe in this time of troubles. He couldn’t put everything on the line for a woman who might be a traitor.
Besides, his heart had been broken and hardened beyond repair long ago. Nothing could wake it, and he didn’t want it to.
The sexual tension between them, that he could accept. Nothing more.
His sister swept into the room, eyes wide, lips thin. Behind her, Brandon stumbled.
Jordan jumped to his feet, concerned for his guard who seemed shrunken. “What happened?”
Brandon met his gaze. The Viking’s eyes blazed red. “Eric. Gone. Captured.”
Jordan straightened, stiffening. No, it couldn’t be. He glanced at Dalia. She shivered, wrapping her arms around her stomach.
Fionah stumbled into Jordan, shaking as a vision hit. Her body convulsed, but he kept a tight hold on her, leading his sister to a bench.
He sat her down, kneeling before her. “Tell me.”
“Traitor. Here.” Fiona raised her hand to her forehead. She turned to face Dalia. “Her. She has something to do with Eric’s kidnapping.”
Jordan didn’t dare look at Dalia again, he didn’t have to. He could feel her horror, her pain, and her doubt.
“Did she do this?” His voice came out harsh and loud.
Fionah moaned, eyes fluttering closed. “Unclear.”
“Then what do you see?” Brandon demanded.
Fionah’s eyes snapped open and she glared at Brandon. “I don’t know.”
* * *
Dalia watched them. The wolves said they had proof. Though everything inside her refused to believe she could have done anything the wolves claimed, what if she had? Her stomach churned. Heat flushed her body and her hands shook. She wanted to throw up, but refused to show any weakness.
No. She might not be able to remember her time with Thomas, but she knew with certainty she didn’t have anything to do with this.
Jordan glanced at her, his eyes darkening. Her breath caught in her chest. She wanted to deny it, yet the words were trapped. Did he truly believe her not guilty?
She straightened her back, lifted her chin, and stared him down.
Fionah shook against him. He took her hands in his, asking, “Do you see the traitor?”
“No. It’s dark, fogged.”
“What about Eric? Can you see him?”
She shook her head and pulled her hands from his, then twisted them in her skirt.
Jordan stood, his face once more an expressionless mask. “We will find him.”
Fionah rubbed her temples. Her blue eyes flashed as she glanced
over at Dalia with a barely concealed malice.
Yet another vampire who believed her guilty.
Jordan grasped Fionah’s arm and helped her stand, then led her out of the room. “I’ll be back later,” he said before disappearing.
“Beware my earlier caution, brothair. Do not forget Moira.” The woman’s whispered words drifted to Dalia.
Brandon followed them, but stopped at the doorway, turning back to pierce Dalia with such hatred she flinched. “If you had anything to do with my brother, I will make you pay dearly.”
She stared him down as she rose to her feet and strode across the room. Only inches from the towering man, she growled, “I did nothing. Now leave me alone.”
He paled, backing up. “Sorceress,” he hissed.
Dalia’s mouth dropped open as he visibly struggled to stop his retreat, yet could not.
“I will not be under your control. Stop it,” Brandon shouted.
“I’m not doing anything.” Shaken and confused, Dalia slammed the door closed and turned the lock. Slumped against the cold wood, she stared around her beautifully decorated jail.
She didn’t belong here. No one wanted her, no one believed in her.
Not even Jordan and that cut so deep she wasn’t sure she could heal. He was growing on her, showing her flashes of a softness inside that touched her on some deep level.
It was as if he was as conflicted as she, wanting him at the same time she wanted to run far and fast from the things he made her feel.
Chapter Seven
Jordan hid in the shadows, glancing left and right on the edge of the pack’s territory. There was no sign of wolf guards, which in his mind was stupid. How did they protect themselves?
He couldn’t hear or see his men as they followed him along the border of pack lands, but he sensed their power, their connection to him.
Jordan stealthily crept through the shadows, alert for an ambush. He sniffed the air. Full of wolf. But not the two he wanted.
Hours later, he’d still not found the two he searched for. He gnashed his teeth and fisted his hands. He was ready to infiltrate pack lands to get at the ones he wanted, but knew that would be the last straw. It would trigger the war.