Arawn tightened his grip. Warm blood trickled down Ian’s throat. “Promises can be broken, and love isn’t forever. It’s an illusion.”
“It’s a commitment, one that needs to be treasured and valued.”
Arawn dug the sharpened nails of his other hand into Ian’s chest, right over his Huntsman’s mark. Ian’s heart raced, knowing what would happen and powerless to stop it.
“And one that all too often is tossed aside for a quick fuck.” Arawn leaned closer so his monstrous face filled Ian’s vision. “I won’t put my daughter through that. She was betrayed before. Your promise isn’t worth risking her sanity.”
“Why don’t you let her make that decision?” Because Ian was convinced he could keep Tegan happy and sated long enough to earn her trust.
“I must. Free will demands it.” Arawn shrugged. “But she will. Of that I have no doubt. And when she does, I’ll be free of my mate’s mistake once and for all.”
Arawn dug his hand into Ian’s chest at the same time that he tugged at the front of his neck. Pain whipped through Ian, stealing his breath, his life and his tie to the other Huntsmen. He felt the invisible cords connecting him to them snap. He tried to hold on to them—he’d grown attached to their presences in his mind—but he couldn’t. His horse, hounds and friends…
Gone.
Ian fell. Darkness spread over his vision, but he stretched out with his mind to the only person he had left.
“Tegan. Need you.”
Silence answered him. Whether she couldn’t hear him or refused their bond meant little. Death had arrived, and he’d meet it alone.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Tegan paced the length of the living room. Rhys watched her from where he leaned next to the patio door, one foot flat against the wall and arms crossed. His silent support gave her strength. She needed it. Guilt weighed heavily on her. She only prayed Ian understood why she’d betrayed his secret.
The note explaining her reasoning lay on his bed, unopened. The voice-mail messages and texts she’d left had gone unanswered. Nobody had seen him…or Rowan.
She’d been mated one day, and Ian had disappeared. Along with my sister. Tegan groaned. Dammit, she had no reason to suspect him of being with Rowan, but Tegan knew how easily affected Rowan was by the demons. She’d spent too many years in their beds.
Both she and Tegan had become addicted to them during their time in the Haven. Sure, they’d broken themselves of the habit by avoiding the demon’s sexual lair, but it’d be too easy to slip into the cycle again. For Tegan, it didn’t matter. She didn’t have to resist the lure when the incubus in question was her mate. Rowan, on the other hand, had many reasons why she couldn’t.
Tegan bit her lip and turned her attention to the spread of papers lying on the coffee table. The maps and redcap profiles scattered there hinted at a more likely scenario for Ian’s disappearance and one she desperately clung to. What it didn’t explain was why she couldn’t touch his mind. She’d tried several times.
She sensed him, but it was as if a veil hovered over him. She couldn’t break through it. Since she hadn’t tried to touch his mind before, she didn’t know if it was a new occurrence or a consequence of his tie to Lucas. She suspected the latter, though. A similar cloak shrouded his nature, hiding any traits of who he once was.
“Send the hounds out after him,” Rhys suggested.
She turned away, not wanting him to see the pain in her eyes. “I’m not pulling the hounds away from their nightly hunt of the fairies’ creatures so they can search for my mate. I have no reason to believe he’s in danger.”
“Then call Calan. He’ll connect with him and find out what he’s doing.” Rhys dropped a booted foot to the ground. The thump echoed in the room. “Or who he’s with.”
She wanted to. Her fingers itched to pull her cell phone out of her pocket and dial Calan. It was the only way to reach him. Only he had the power to draw her mind to his. She resisted.
“Not yet. I’m trying not to jump to any conclusions.” She peered over her shoulder. “Trust, remember?”
“You’re failing at it.”
She lifted her hand. About double the length it had originally been, the jagged line mocked her. She curled her fingers. “I’m trying. It’s the best I can do.”
“No, it’s not.” He stepped in front of her and waited until she met his gaze. “You’re basing your reactions on your fears about who he’s with and if he can control himself. You need to focus on facts.” He motioned toward the scattered papers. “Why hasn’t he returned?”
She made her way to the coffee table and picked up the top sheet, a map. “Several areas are circled. I don’t—”
A sharp pain pierced her Huntsman’s mark. She gasped and pressed a hand against it. Rhys flinched too.
“Ian.” She closed her eyes. Guilt and fear stole her breath. “Arawn took the mark back.”
“I fear you’re right. I…”
Rhys’s words faded. For a moment, she shared Ian’s soul. Agony and a sense of betrayal washed over her.
Ian! She tried to hold him close, but between one second and the next, his heart stopped.
Gone. He was gone.
No! Black dots spread over her vision, and her knees gave out.
Rhys caught her before she hit the ground. “What happened?”
She blinked Rhys’s face into focus. “Arawn killed him.”
Rhys ripped the other glove from her hand. Her mate mark showed two circles. “Not permanently. You saved him.”
Tegan dragged in a shallow breath and tried to tamp down her anxiety. “I can’t feel him.”
“With his father being Lucas, I’m not surprised.”
“I know, but I need to—”
A familiar presence brushed her mind. Calan asked for entry. She pushed him back. Rhys could talk to him. She had to find Ian. See him. Touch him. Know he really was okay.
She ran for the door.
Rhys grabbed her hand. “Wait! I’ll come with you.”
“No.” She pointed to the coffee table. “Find out why he went to Hell. He had to have had a reason.” And the delivery of lost souls to the fields was the only one she could come up with.
She shrugged off Rhys’s hold and fled though the front door. Anger and fear churned within her, threatening to throw her into the rage that could consume her. She held it at bay for the moment. Ian’s safety came first, but then…
Then Arawn would pay for killing her mate.
With a wave of her hand, she opened a portal. Arawn stood on the other side. Her alternate form emerged without conscious thought. At the moment, he was her enemy. There was only one way to deal with him. She bared a mouthful of deadly teeth and charged him. With a swipe of her hand, she ripped him open. He stood still for the first blow, but then grabbed her upper arms and lifted her until they were face-to-face.
She struggled to break his hold. Arawn held her tighter. “Enough, daughter. Your lover lives.”
The mention of Ian stopped her useless thrashing. Arawn wouldn’t allow her freedom unless he wanted it anyway. She glared at him. “No thanks to you.”
“I had every right to take back what belonged to me.”
“And killing him?”
“The death he suffered was for keeping the truth from you.” He shrugged. “It was a fitting punishment for lying to my daughter.”
His nonchalant tone pushed her to the edge of her control. She growled. “Where is he? What have you done to my mate?”
Arawn set Tegan on her feet. “You mean the incubus you foolishly bound yourself to for eternity?”
“Where is Ian?” She wouldn’t play her sire’s game. He hurt. She got that. It had nothing to do with Ian, however. He hadn’t asked to be born.
Arawn shrugged. “Somewhere in the Underworld, maybe? As your mate, he has th
e right to access everything you do, or”—he flashed her a sardonic smile—“maybe he’s left Hell. He can traverse the realms, something his father wishes to do.” He tipped his head to the side. “Do you suppose it was Lucas’s plan all along to use Ian to carry out whatever he’s been brewing?”
“The Demon King’s strategies aren’t my concern at the moment. His son, the man I love, is.” She fisted her hands and took a step forward. “Where. Is. Ian.”
“You still insist on your love for him, even knowing what he is?”
“I completed my half of the bond after learning of it.”
Arawn snorted. “Because you knew I would banish him from our Teulu, so you thought to sacrifice your only chance at having a mate in order to ensure he doesn’t lose his immortality.”
Tegan let her gaze roam over the male in front of her. Father, tyrant, protector, commander—she hated him as much as she loved him, always had. He could be as cold and cruel as the humans portrayed him, or more righteous and noble than any of the gods. At the moment, he was simply a man lashing out at the world over the pain Minerva had caused him. It didn’t excuse his actions, no matter how much she understood his pain.
“I’m glad I did. Ian didn’t ask to be born.” She leaned close. “You punished him because you’re too weak to deal with your mate’s infidelity. He was an easy target.”
“And how will you deal with your mate’s infidelity, daughter?” Arawn raised a brow.
She didn’t have an answer and prayed she’d never have to come up with one. “Don’t concern yourself over my mating. Deal with your own.”
“He’ll be drawn to any person, male or female, who can satisfy his cravings. You’ve been around enough demons to know that.”
She reached inside herself, needing the reminder of Ian’s presence. She might not be able to connect their minds, but he was there, wrapped around her body and soul like a second skin. She stroked a mental finger over the silken evidence of their bond. The taste of cinnamon on her tongue infused her with strength.
“Where is he?” She asked a third time.
“Find him yourself.”
She nodded. “Fine. I will.”
He squeezed her shoulder before she could escape. “I can help you as I did Calan. I have enough angel’s tears left to sever your bond to Ian.”
“I have no intention of breaking my tie to him.”
Arawn shrugged. “You will. Return to me when you are ready, and I will save you from your mistake.”
She turned her back on him and fled down the corridor before the doubt he stirred took her over completely.
She would not forsake her mate.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ian found himself in the same cell he’d been confined to before. Rage gripped him, but without his tie to the Wild Hunt, he felt only the anger, not the all-consuming need to ride and seek retaliation for those who’d been wronged. The only consolation of his current imprisonment was that he could move.
He peered out the opening of the door, hoping to catch a glimpse of his mate, but finding none. The rough-cut hallway stretched a dozen feet in either direction before curving. Nobody had passed through it in the time he’d been awake. Granted, he didn’t think much more than an hour had gone by, but he’d expected Tegan to come to him.
She hadn’t, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Arawn was right. He dropped his forehead against the bars of the cell door and tried once more to connect with her. Their tie still bound them. She was a part of him, but he couldn’t reach her. He suspected the reason why had to do with the gnawing emptiness inside him.
He was too weak to touch her mind.
The power he’d siphoned from her was gone. He prayed it was because he’d used it to heal. The other alternative chilled him—that it was a normal response, and he’d have to engage in sex daily. Maybe even multiple times a day to meet his needs.
It’d be damn hard to do without Tegan.
A soft tinkling sound reached his ears. He glanced into the hall. A woman with silver swirls around dark gray eyes approached. She wore a long white gown with a veil. A few feet away, she flashed him a smile.
“Hello, son.”
He gripped the bars and glared at her. “Minerva.”
Her smile faltered. “I was hoping you’d call me Mother.”
“My mother died years ago when her throat was ripped out by a redcap.”
“She was merely your surrogate. I am—”
“Save it, goddess. If you came to me with some messed-up notion that we could get to know each other or become close, you can forget it. As far as I’m concerned, I don’t ever want to see you again.”
She stepped back and blinked at him. “But I am your mother. I sacrificed for you. I—”
“You left me floundering in the dark. I nearly killed my mate because I didn’t know how to control myself.”
“A mate you wouldn’t have if it wasn’t for my intervention. At least Tegan was able to withstand your loss of control. Had your lover been human, she would’ve died permanently.”
He shuddered but pushed the thought aside. It hadn’t happened. That was all that mattered. “Thank you for bringing us together. I—”
“You are welcome, son.” She beamed. “I could do so little for you while trapped in Hell.”
Ian felt the first stirrings of sympathy for the woman smiling at him as if he were her greatest accomplishment, but knew it wasn’t enough to forgive her. She’d dropped him into a sham of a life without knowledge or warnings of the danger he posed. He frowned at the thought and wondered if she’d exaggerated how deadly he could’ve been. “I slept with lots of women before I dreamed of Tegan. None of them ever got hurt.”
“You weren’t mature then.”
Immortals matured at twenty-seven. He’d learned that from Harley. And his first encounter with Tegan had occurred on his twenty-seventh birthday. Son of a bitch. Minerva had manipulated them. “What would’ve happened if Tegan hadn’t gotten out of the fairy prison?”
“You would’ve continued to meet in the dream realm and lived out your human life. When you died, your soul would’ve been returned to me.”
“To be placed in another human body?”
A nod answered him.
He clenched his fists. “I would’ve gone mad.”
She flinched but didn’t respond.
He pointed in the direction she’d come. “We’re done, goddess. If I ever want to speak with you again, I will seek you out.”
Tears filled her eyes. She dipped her head. “So be it.”
With that, she spun on her heel and strode away. He almost called her back but didn’t. It took more than supplying an egg to be a mother. Someday, he’d talk to her again, but not anytime soon. Let her suffer alone for a while. Tegan and I did for long enough.
Silence stretched for several minutes before the thump of footsteps reached him. He gripped the metal slats, ready to tell Minerva to leave, but then another thought surfaced.
Tegan. She’d come to him.
Breath caught, he waited for her to round the corner. Instead of her beautiful face, a man with a wide, flat nose and horns poking through his brown hair appeared. Another man with similar horns sprouting from his bald head followed behind him.
They opened the door. Ian stepped back, unease slithering down his spine.
The first one dipped his head. “Ian, son of Lucas, we’re glad you’re awake.”
The mention of his demon father intensified the sensation spreading over him. What? Is it meet-your-fucked-up-parents day and nobody told me?
“And why is that?” Ian asked.
“Lucas has ordered us to bring you to him. Carrying your unconscious body through the Underworld would’ve made you appear weak. His other son, Zachariah, is not exactly pleased with your appearance. He’d exploit it.”
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Ian couldn’t argue with their reasoning and had no desire to engage his half brother either. “I’ll have to visit with Lucas another time. I need to find my mate.”
The bald man stepped back and motioned him out. “Tegan has been looking for you. If you hurry, you might be able to catch her.”
The mention of Tegan forced him to move. “Where did you see her?”
“At the Haven. We’ll take you there before going to Lucas’s home.”
The brown-haired demon grinned. “You look hungry anyway. It’s never good to let yourself starve.”
“They serve food at the Haven?”
“Oh yes.” The bald guy took several steps the way he’d come. “Many varieties. You’ll be sure to find something pleasing.”
The brown-haired demon pushed Ian forward, a hand between his shoulder blades. He went with them. It beat being locked away. Besides, if it gave him a chance to reconnect with Tegan, he didn’t care whom he followed.
The winding corridor spilled into a long hallway. The signs of civilization he’d seen the last time he’d walked down the passage appeared. He took in the details as he’d done then, surprised by the normality of the building and its lack of brimstone and suffering.
At the split in the hall, they led him deeper into the fortress. The wide walkway gave way to a courtyard with cobblestone roads and tarp-covered tents. People ranging from those with human appearances to distorted monstrosities meandered in the space.
All stopped and faced him. He froze. An elbow to his back moved him forward.
“Keep walking,” the bald demon murmured. “Do not appear weak.”
Ian let his gaze touch on the men and women he passed. A slew of reactions shone on their faces. Lust, fear and hatred included. He ignored it all and held his head high.
They stopped at a set of wooden doors. A man stepped out. The sounds of music and laughter, along with the scent of sex and sweat, drifted from the room behind him.
Ian cut a sharp look to the bald demon. “What is this place?”
Hunter Forsaken: Wild Hunt, Book 2 Page 19