Emerald Vows: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance (Marked Souls Book 3)

by Sabrina Shelley

  “It’s okay, Nico,” Rory says soothingly. “You can tell us. Please tell us. What’s wrong?”

  Ah. Fuck my fucking life.

  “Well, first off, it’s not a she,” I begin.

  “I’ll beat the shit out of her then,” Ryker announces. “This was protected ground, dammit. I’m not going to be picky.”

  “See, that’s the other thing,” I point out. Helpfully, I’m sure. “I can’t let you do that, vargr—because the thief…” I look down at Rory’s eyes again, seeing the confusion twisted into her fair brow. I’d hoped that we’d have a little more time before I had to do this—or at least, I’d hoped that she would’ve given me the chance to show her how good I am in the sack first—but now, the cat’s out of the bag and the subject is unavoidable.

  “Who, Nico? Who took the gems?” Rory’s voice quivers.

  “My mother, love,” I tell her simply. “The half-assed dummy spells, the utter disregard for vargr protection magic…That’s good ol’ Ma for you.”

  Rory’s beautiful lips turn downward as she backs away from me.

  Which, well…shit. Forget fucking me. That’s out the door, but that’s not so much the problem.

  With my family involved…well, I can safely say that Rory’s never going to love me now.

  Ryker

  The roar rises up in me before I have time to think better of it.

  “You son of a bitch!” I lunge at Arendale as Rory backs away. The rage roiling inside me right now is second only to what I felt when the Regime killed my pack. I see red. I’m acting on instinct, and my only motivation is to extinguish the perceived threat.

  And that threat is this man standing right in front of me.

  “How?” I growl. “How did they know?” I reach for his throat, ready to wring the answer out of it. No one should be able to find a vargr hiding place. Not ever.

  The only thing that pulls me out of my blind fury and stops me from beating the life out of this fucker right now is a glimpse of Killian over his shoulder.

  His red hair. Silver eyes that look like they hold the secrets of time.

  His face stops me in my tracks. A familiar face flashes before my eyes. A face not unlike his own, one I try not to think of every time I look his way.

  Cait. So innocent and hopeful. Entrusting me with the stones all those years ago. Her blind faith in me.

  And now I’ve failed her.

  The sense of fury I feel is suddenly overshadowed by shame. No one has ever lost something given to a vargr for safekeeping. Until now. Until me.

  I step back from Arendale, my gaze still on zeroed in on Killian. He watches me from those eerie eyes, so like his sister’s, and I wonder what he knows. How much deeper this actually goes.

  If any of the others knew what I know about Killian, their thin hold on trust for him would vanish immediately. No one knows what Killian Connelly did to gain the trust of the Regime. But I have a fucking good hunch about it. It should make me hate him.

  Except he looks just as shaken by the missing stones as I do.

  “We have to retrieve the stones from your mother.” Killian steps forward and puts a hand on Arendale, who no doubt feels the intensity of his request.

  “That’s a pretty definitive plan of action from someone never makes a decision,” North snarls.

  Killian looks at me, his eyes flashing. “I need to know what happened to those stones.”

  The statement isn’t made flippantly, and I sense the unease of everyone standing here in this cave, including myself. What North said is right. Travelers have always spoken in riddles, never making their true meaning known. It’s got to be a pretty shitty consequence of their particular type of magic. Never wanting to say anything to influence the future or unintentionally change history. And Killian is as tight-lipped a traveler as they come.

  So for him to come straight out and make a demand on which way our path should take is unsettling. As if the decision we make now could determine our fates in one way or another. And he has a certain way in mind.

  “No,” I growl. Fuck no. “We have no idea what we’d be walking into.”

  This entire plan has had me on edge for weeks. Just breaking my vow to Cait to keep her stones hidden has been enough to keep me awake at night. I’m not about to leap into any more danger until I have time to think it through, especially without knowing if I can trust Killian Connelly.

  “Technically, I know exactly what we’d be walking into.” Arendale and his smartass pansy boy shit is getting on my fucking nerves.

  “You think any of us can trust you right now? What do you suggest?” I sneer. “We just walk right up to your mother and demand the stones? For all we know it’s a goddamn trap.”

  “Ryker—” Rory rests her hand on my arm, but before she can say anything or try to get me to back off her little vampire, my man Drew backs me up.

  “He’s right. The Regime is already right on our tails. Even if it’s not a trap, how long do you think it will take them to figure out where we’re headed? Arendale can’t be the only one who can figure out who was here. They’ll be there waiting for us before we even arrive.”

  “We have to get the stones,” Killian repeats.

  “We will get them. Of that you can be sure. But not like this.”

  “Actually,” North’s smooth voice cuts through the tension. “I think we might want to consult Rory here. Don’t you?”

  I look down at Rory, whose eyes are wide and flicking around at all of us as if she doesn’t know what to say. “I…I think we just need to get the hell out of here. Let’s talk about this somewhere else?”

  I didn’t notice the way she’s looking at me until now. Uneasy. Alert. As if she’s not sure what I might do. Like she thought I actually might hurt Arendale. I mean, fuck, I almost did. It’s not like she doesn’t know there’s this side of me, the brutal fighter who even the Regime hasn’t managed to kill. But she’s never seen me lash out at someone who means something to her.

  I swallow against the tightness in my throat and nod, holding out my hand to offer her a ride back down the hill. She reluctantly accepts, but when she wraps her arms around my neck I can feel that she’s distant. She isn’t speaking and is actively ignoring Arendale’s attempts to gain her attention, too.

  We make our way down and back through the woods until it opens up on a field where a train will be passing by soon enough. Soon enough we’re on a train headed back towards civilization, this time crammed in a boxcar with crates of apples.

  The journey has been silent other than terse directions as we made our through the woods and snuck onto the train. The tension is thick, everyone seeming to have an opinion on where we go from here but not ready to duke it out until we get back to the cabin.

  Rory breaks the silence when she picks up an apple and tosses it in her hand.

  “You know,” she says, her voice almost musing, “I can’t remember ever having a fresh apple before I was brought to Aisling. I mean, I’m sure I did as a kid. But my point is, who do you think these are for? Regime people, obviously. But where do you draw the line? Who decides at what point down the chain people go from eating fresh apples brought in from the countryside to getting rations of canned soup?”

  She turns and looks at us, one at a time. “Did you all get fresh fruit? I know Drew and I didn’t. Xander, I’m sure your family had anything and everything they wanted.” She doesn’t say it accusingly, just as a statement of fact. Like that’s the way the world is. “Killian, obviously. You dined with the Warden on the regular. “Nico? What was it like for you growing up? I know nothing of your family and your past with the Regime.”

  Arendale shifts uncomfortably now that all eyes are on him. It’s true. No one really knows much about his background. He was with the Regime, but not in any significant way that meant his parents were high-ranking Regime loyalists like North’s.

  “I’ve had fresh apples.”

  That’s all he says, and I snort. The vampire is b
ecoming as evasive as the traveler when the topic of his family is broached, it seems. One more reason I don’t like the idea of going to his mother to retrieve the stones.

  Rory goes to sit by Arendale, crunching on the apple like it’s the best thing she’s tasted in weeks. Well, hell, maybe it is. We haven’t exactly been living like kings while on the run. I watch as she glances up at him. His head turns to her, and they just stare into each other’s eyes, and I fucking know they’re doing that magic talking in your head shit.

  I turn away and try to zone out until we get to the next stop where we’ll make the final leg of the journey back to the cabin. But I can’t. All I see are Cait’s innocent eyes in my mind, haunting me. Taunting me with my failure. The stones should have been there. This should be done. We should be celebrating tonight and planning our next step to finally finding answers for Rory.

  Instead, I feel like we’re gearing up for battle the minute we get inside the cabin. The place is dark, Drew’s friend having left it to us for the night, and the only light shining in is from the moon. As soon as Rory flips the lights on, it’s like she flipped another kind of switch.

  Everyone is talking at once. Myself included.

  It’s Drew and me against Arendale and Connelly, duking it out over whether we should go see the vampire’s mommy and collect the stolen sapphires.

  Killian has some motivation I can’t figure out, and Arendale now seems set on righting this wrong no matter the cost. Drew and I know they’re being fucking idiots for wanting to risk Rory’s safety.

  Through the din of us shouting over each other, I hear Rory’s voice slice through.

  “Stop! All of you, stop it now.” We all turn to her, and her eyes are glistening. “Look at you. You all sound like a bunch of testosterone-fueled, oversized-ego assholes. We can’t do this.”

  Only North stands by quietly while we all try to tamp down our fury.

  “Listen,” she says, softer now. “I need you. All of you. And I need you to work together. We’ve been here before. We’ve seen what it’s like when we’re divided. We’re weak, at the mercy of the Regime. But we’ve also seen what it’s like when you guys just get over your fucking selves long enough to realize we’re all on the same side here.”

  My eyes narrow, taking in Arendale and Connelly again. I’m not so sure about that. Then there’s the Regime’s fallen-from-grace poster boy, who I don’t think I’ll ever fully trust.

  Rory makes a good point, though. My concern is that we may be too divided at this point. So far, our connections and feelings for Rory have been all that banded us together. Is it really strong enough to withstand what could be ahead? I’d like to think so. As for me, I’d do anything for her. But without any of us trusting the others at this point? I just don’t know.

  “Look,” Rory says, the wind gone out of her. “It’s been a long day. I don’t think we need to figure out any of this tonight. Let’s all just get some sleep and talk tomorrow.”

  I see Arendale open his mouth like he wants to say something. I don’t want to fucking hear it, so I turn towards the door. I need to get outside, breathe in the forest, clear my head.

  “Ryker…” Rory calls my name from where she’s standing by the rat bastard. “Let’s go outside for a minute, okay?”

  I nod and hold the door for her. As soon as we’re outside alone, she grabs my hands.

  “I know I haven’t been very sensitive to you today. With everything that happened,” she gestures behind her toward the house and the men inside of it, “I didn’t have time to stop and think about what you must feel right now. With, y’know, the stones…

  “What I mean is I know what a man of honor you are. You sacrificed everything to protect those sapphires. More than I can even fathom. Your pack, your home. Everything. And now they’re missing. I know it has to be a blow. But don’t for a minute think that you’ve failed. We’re dealing with something bigger here than anything you ever could have expected.”

  But that’s just it. I have failed. I’ve lost everything. Which means it was all for nothing. All of it—resisting the Regime, fighting for my brothers and losing them, losing my wolf—what was it for? And even more haunting—Cait. She sacrificed everything for these stones as well. Up to and including her very life.

  “This isn’t over, Ryker. I’m not giving up.”

  I know she isn’t. That we aren’t. It isn’t in any of our natures to give up. Especially my little witch. Her intentions are pure, and I’d follow her to the ends of the earth.

  Yes, going along with her request that we retrieve the stones in the first place was hard. It tested me. I made a vow to protect them. But I’ve also made a vow to protect Rory. I’m bonded as her guardian, and my commitment to her overshadows everything.

  But not just because of the bond. Because Rory is Rory. And I’d love her under any circumstance in which we might have found each other.

  Rory digs in her small backpack that she’s never without, pulling out her mother’s book of shadows, then a carved wooden box, then another, smaller box. When she opens up the smallest box, she fishes out a small worn chain and smiles up at me.

  “I want you to keep this for me. No matter what you may be thinking or feeling right now, I want you to know I believe in you and I trust you.” She dangles the chain in front of my chest, a tiny green stone swinging from it. “It was my mother’s.”

  When I hold out my hand and she drops it into my palm, I clasp my fingers around it, vowing that I’ll guard it second only to Rory’s life.

  I sigh and brush my thumb across her cheek. “Thank you.”

  Her words and gesture mean more to me than she probably realizes. Because they mean that no matter what I may be feeling, Rory often sees straight through me. And cares about me deeply in spite of it.

  She rises up on her tiptoes and gives me a kiss. “I’ll be inside. Take your time out here.”

  Then she’s headed back in and I’m left alone with my thoughts.

  She’s right. We won’t give up. But where we go from here is beyond me. There’s no way I’ll walk Rory into a potential lion’s den with Arendale’s family. Who knows what those fuckers might do if we show up demanding the stones? They’re sneaky, reprehensible people with no morals, that’s for damn sure. Or like Drew said, they could figure us out before we even arrive and be lying in wait.

  And even if we do come up with another plan, it comes back to how I’m not sure we can help Rory if we’re this divided. She needs us to work together to help her. Not fight among ourselves. We’re in a more precarious position than we’ve ever been before. At least in Aisling, we didn’t all have bounties on our heads. We were able to keep Rory safe. But out here? I wouldn’t be surprise if the order wasn’t shoot on sight.

  She’s right. There’s no way we can do this without working together. Which makes me wonder if our rag-tag little team isn’t about to unravel before our very eyes.

  Rory

  I close the door to the single bedroom behind us, shutting Ryker and all the rest outside, while Nico collapses onto the bed.

  “Don’t get so comfortable,” I warn him. “Just because I’m here doesn’t mean we’re good yet.”

  “Then why are you here, love?” Nico props himself up on his elbows, his long, muscular torso and bulging biceps shown off to full effect.

  Not that I’m at all swayed by them, of course. Actually, under literally any other circumstances, I’d absolutely be swayed by Nico’s lean, sexy body—but right now is very much not the time.

  Still, the red-brown of his hair is all too attractive in the low light coming in from the room’s single window, and the way his eyes rake over me—like he’s wishing he was a telepath instead of an empath so he could undress me with just a look…

  Okay, so maybe I’m a little overwhelmed by Nico’s handsomeness. I haven’t forgotten the last chance we were able to be intimate…even though, holy fuck, that seems like so long ago now. Nico and I had a glorious emotion-filled ro
ll in the roses when he became my guardian, and the marks we left on each other that day are still visible on his chest and my palms.

  But as much as I’d like to have Nico mark me elsewhere—my neck, for one, and for another, my thighs—I’m pretty fucking aware that now is really not the time.

  “I’m here to listen,” I tell him simply. “And to decide whether or not you’re right.”

  “I’m at your disposal, love.” Nico pats the bed next to him and gingerly, I take my place at his side. “What would you like to know?”

  The mattress is comfortable—thicker and plusher than I had expected. When it comes to safe houses, it’s obviously that I’ve underestimated Drew’s network of friends. I needed a room that I could interrogate my infuriating empath boyfriend in—not a room that would only further draw me into the enchantment of his aura and the blue-green of his eyes.

  But the bed is soft and there’s no changing that. It makes me realize how tired I am—and how nice it is to be at Nico’s side.

  I yawn before I answer him, and he takes the opportunity to move me like a treasured porcelain doll. When he’s done with me, the pillows are beneath my head and my boots are on the floor. It’s comfortable—too comfortable. Especially with Nico laying on his side next to me.

  “I—” I begin, but another yawn captures my throat before any words can come out.

  “You’re exhausted, Rory.” It’s not just the confidence that Nico exudes when he speaks to me—I know he’s right.

  “Long day,” I explain his concern away. “Don’t encourage it. Let’s start with you telling me about your family, Nico. Why we should…” Another yawn, even heavier and longer this time. “Why we should trust them?”

  “I will, love. But…not like this, I think. Close your eyes.”

  I look at him like he’s crazy, which makes him laugh.

  “I’m not trying to weasel out of your interrogation, love. But every time your eyelids close, it’s like they’re made of lead—and if you’ll just close them for me, I won’t have to tell you anything. I can show you instead.”