Veil of Thorns

by Gwen Mitchell

  Control. Control. Control.

  “I have it,” she declared. The light in her eyes flared, and his gaze was drawn in.

  “She loves another, and you are trying to win her over.”

  Something inside threatened to snap, and Lucas barely perceived the trap in time to tighten down the lashings on the jealous, possessive rage brewing in his demon core. Instincts that both frightened and shamed him.

  “Ha, yes! I am right—your eye twitched,” she gloated.

  “I am certainly trying to prove my worth to her,” he conceded. In fact, he was about to start back at square one.

  “Because you love her.”

  We’ll have to get good at forgiving each other, Bri had said.

  He hoped she meant it.

  “Yes, like so! You are horrible at this. So, she loves another—”

  He gave up and glanced away.

  Hedvika hummed in pleasure. “Yet she came here with you. Is he dead? No? Hmm…”

  Lucas shook his head. “That is for Briana to reveal when she is ready. This is her errand, I am just her protector.”

  She grinned. “I’ve solved the riddle.”

  He cocked his head, genuinely curious what she had puzzled out so quickly.

  The slitted cat eyes were back. “What will you give me if I deny her the magic she’s seeking to save her lover?”

  He swallowed thickly. Wishing for a moment to think, he conjured a clean shirt from his cache and pulled it on. He made a show of considering her offer, weighing prices in his head. In reality, he was momentarily reeling from the fact that though Hedvika was clearly insane, she’d also somehow maintained a frightening cunning. He would be much more wary in his dealings with her from now on. Already, he must be careful in extricating himself from this snare. “I could not ask that of you. And you will not find her so easily deterred.”

  “I know,” Hedvika said with a note of pride. “Answer me truthfully, wolf. Do you want to complete the ritual?”

  More than anything. He looked away but nodded.

  “I can help you.”

  He wanted Bri immortal—safe—and bound to him—mine—forever. He wanted it more than anything he’d ever wanted in his long life. But not at the cost of her love. He could not sabotage her. Clearly, Hedvika had machinations of her own, or she wouldn’t be offering to help him. He shook his head.

  “What if I could drive her into your arms of her own free will? It wouldn’t even take much meddling. The seeds are there already. I can see it. I can help them take root and grow. That is what I do.”

  His heart started to pound at her words. She could see it? Maybe things weren’t as lost with Briana as he feared. What if she did have feelings for him? What if they only needed a little push? “What would you ask in exchange for this?”

  He knew her cost would be too great, that he would have to refuse. He should refuse anyway—but to be polite, he could at least listen to her offer.

  “I would ask for a favor, to be paid at a later date of my choosing.”

  Lucas’s jaw ticked. Favors were his stock and trade. His greatest desire was being offered to him for a price he’d paid a thousand times before without hesitation, but now…

  “You don’t understand how important she is. She’s so vulnerable right now, so fragile. I healed her so easily, but I could just as easily have taken her life.”

  His eyes flashed to hers and he bared his teeth.

  “I would never—she is precious. But defenseless. That is my point. We must protect her.”

  Yes, yes, yes!

  It was as if she’d reached inside him and unleashed all his circling thoughts to let them tear rampant through the room.

  She is precious. She is fragile. Protect her. Finish the ritual.

  He’d been such a fool. He should have made the ritual his price for bringing her into such peril. “You must swear nothing you do will harm Briana.”

  “Of course not. She’s too important,” Hedvika cooed.

  He should not trust her. But whatever Hedvika’s reasons—apocalypse or otherwise—for wanting the ritual complete, they were aligned in that desire. He could face whatever threat she presented better once Bri was safe. As for the favor, she could only ask for something within his power to give, and he might not be around to pay up. Or, if Ryder’s plan played out, she would be dead. But just in case, he added, “And I will not betray her in any way.”

  Her lips curled into a satisfied smile. “Very good, wolf. As I said, loyalty is so important for us. And honor. You must be able to keep your word.”

  He bristled. “My word is good.”

  “I’m sure it is, but you do not mind sealing the deal in blood.” This time, when the vines shot out of the ice, they snaked toward him slowly and hovered, twisting in a sinuous dance. “Do exactly as I say, and Briana will complete the ritual—of her own free will—by the full moon. In exchange, you will grant me one favor, to be paid at a time of my choosing. Do you agree?”

  In answer, he held out his hand and allowed the vines and to coil around his wrist.

  The thorns bit down.

  “I agree.”

  “Very good.” Hedvika looped her arm through his as the vines slithered away. “Now, here is what you will do…”

  Chapter Twenty

  When Bri reached her chamber again, it felt less like a prison cell and more like a reprieve. The vines sealed closed behind her, and she leaned against the wall, still trying to slow her frantic heartbeat.

  …the woman I love.

  She shoved off from the wall, pacing the length of the room.

  He loved her?

  No…no. That was silly. He barely knew her. He’d loved Vivianne for centuries. She was Vivianne to him. He didn’t see a difference. At best, he loved whatever hybrid ideal he’d formed in his mind.

  You are all my favorite colors and scents and flavors rolled into one.

  What if he did have real feelings for her? She knew Lucas intended to seduce her—the attraction between them was undeniable—but that too was about completing the ritual for him. It was about getting Vivianne back. Wasn’t it?

  True, she cared for him. How could she not? With everything she remembered? Everything he’d done for her? And his annoying habit of knowing just the right thing to say or do to get under her skin. To dominate her thoughts.

  Like right now.

  But if he’d meant it as some sort of manipulation, why had he said it like that? He’d looked as surprised by the words as she had been. As if he wished to take them back. Like maybe… he hadn’t meant them? Or was he worried she would take it the wrong way?

  After pacing a circuit for a few minutes, stopping to tug up her sagging corset every other turn, Bri decided she should pretend he’d never said it.

  They’d just been reunited after his painful journey to reach her. His emotions were heightened. She was asking so much of him—taking her into danger, suppressing his instincts to fight back. Maybe he’d had a flashback of Vivianne or something.

  Her emotions had been heightened too. After Vika proclaimed her sentence, Bri had felt her stomach sucked into a vacuum. It had taken a strength of will she was surprised she had to calmly plead with Vika to spare him, to at least meet him before tearing him apart.

  By some grace of the stars, she’d played her cards right. Or so she’d thought.

  Once she saw him in wolf form, broken and bloodied, rage and protectiveness had flooded her system. Her shrink in Sydney had once said she had an unhealthy amount of self-repression. But it had taken all her long-practiced self-control not to scream and claw at Vika when she refused to heal Lucas.

  At least you saw beneath her mask. All the sweetness had only been a manipulation, testing Bri’s weaknesses. Hurting Lucas was probably just for fun.

  She perched on the edge of the bed, torn between climbing under the furs and sleeping for a hundred years or pacing until she wore a track in the stone floor. She wondered how long it would be before she
saw Lucas again, if Vika would allow it. If she didn’t go to bed and tried to leave, would the vines let her pass? How would she find him? Would Emil help her?

  “Surely we can manage accommodations better than this.” Ryder stepped from the shadows of the alcove that served as Bri’s shower. He studied the crudely hewn walls and piles of wax drippings, his lip curling in disdain. “She doesn’t even realize what a cliché she has become.”

  He floated across the room as black mist and coalesced beside her on the bed, onyx gaze glittering in the low candlelight. It was disturbing to never be quite sure where he was looking. Perhaps he saw differently than humans, in all directions at once. Perhaps he was staring right at her.

  “What are you doing here?” She rubbed her tired eyes. “Come to gloat some more about tricking the silly mortal into your web of lies?”

  “I can go anywhere at will, love. One of the perks of being me.”

  Of course. There he went again, answering without answering. “You mean one of the perks of not being a prisoner here because the queen is sweet on you? Why didn’t you tell us you were…” She gave up, dropping her face into her hands. It was a ridiculous question. Like asking the rain why it falls. She understood what Lucas and Kean meant now—secrecy and deception were in the Hohlwen’s nature.

  “The less you know the better,” was his obtuse reply.

  She snorted. “Plausible deniability? You expect me to buy that lame excuse?”

  “No. I expect you to understand that I would not tell you anything you could be trapped into divulging, that I would not risk our whole plan.”

  “Not really our plan if I’m not a party to it,” she grumbled.

  He grinned. “Precisely.”

  “You know what? You’re a… a…”

  His brows rose in interest, as if he’d be delighted to hear what she thought of him, the more colorful the better.

  Bri deflated. “What if she’s listening to us right now?”

  Ryder slid from the bed and stalked to the balcony, his movements smooth and fluid, partially blurring in shadow. “She can watch and listen through the birds, but your room is warded. You could be screaming bloody murder right now, and even the bear outside your door would not hear a peep.”

  Great. Nothing like knowing your prison-cell-slash-potential-torture-chamber is soundproofed.

  “You’re not worried she’ll be suspicious if she learns you visited me? Or jealous?”

  He cocked his head to one side as he regarded the curtain of slithering vines blocking the archway to the balcony. His fingers became wisps of shadow as he reached out to them. The vines didn’t respond at all as the shadows slid between them. “My money is on both.”

  “What is she to you?” Bri asked.

  He pulled back his smoky tendrils and made a fist. “She is my undoing.”

  “I’m serious. I have a right to know. You said she stole something—what?”

  “My heart, of course,” he said, his tone bemused.

  “Do you even have a heart?”

  “I knew there was a cold-blooded witch in there somewhere.” He sounded pleased.

  Bri glared at his back, but she couldn’t put any fire into it. “So, what? She hurt you? Betrayed you? Used you somehow?”

  He faced her with his hands clasped behind his back, wisps of darkness drifting on an invisible breeze around him. “All of those things and worse.”

  Bri’s chest clenched at the emptiness of his words. Not knowing what to say, she looked down at her lap and nodded. Maybe she couldn’t fault him some secrets. She had plenty of her own. “It must be hard, to be facing her now. I know you have your own reasons. But thank you anyway. For helping me save Kean.”

  Ryder leaned against the wall, his hands tucked in his invisible pockets. “I’ve no idea where she keeps the book, so I’m afraid I’ve helped as much as I can, love.”

  “You got us here,” she said. This day felt like one of the longest of her life but that restlessness wouldn’t go away until she knew for certain Lucas was safe from any more of Hedvika’s sick games. “Did you listen in on them at all?”

  “Oh, yawn. Routine immortal posturing. She will want to establish dominance. He’ll have to put up enough of a fight to earn her respect without challenging her. I wouldn’t worry about your wolf—he’s clever enough to stay alive. He’ll learn how to charm her.”

  She didn’t doubt that, but the idea of Lucas charming Vika made Bri’s lip curl.

  “He’s not—” He’s not mine, she wanted to say, but realized Ryder was trying to divert her off topic. “And yet I’m supposed to play blindfolded?”

  “You are a sharp one.” He glanced down, his primordial gaze hooded by pale eyelids, twin arcs of coal-dark lashes brushing his porcelain-smooth cheeks. He looked so…human in that attitude.

  Bri stared, lost forever in that moment.

  Suddenly, she found was staring at her own reflection in the dark glass of his gaze, mere inches away. It felt like she’d lost time somewhere.

  “Always full of surprises,” he whispered.

  She blinked, and there was hardly any space between them.

  “I love that about you.” His gaze visibly slid down her body, mouth curling in amusement.

  She tugged her corset up.

  Ryder tsked. “At least now that the wolf is here you can get some decent clothes. You look ridiculous. This bit’s on upside down, you know. That’s why it’s ready to slide off.”

  Bri stopped fidgeting with the damn thing and smacked Ryder on the shoulder. She turned her back to him. “Can you help me get it off?”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” he purred.

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “Relax.” He braced her shoulders and began tugging at the laces. “I know, love. Your dance card is too full already.”

  Bri made a sour face, not willing to take that bait. “So at least tell me how we are playing this. Am I upset with you for leading us here under false pretenses? Did I know you were lovers? Am I not supposed to be insulted that you referred to us as toys and talked about using us?”

  “Are you offended?”

  “Yes.”

  “So play it like that. The more genuine you are, the better. If she asks, say you suspected my treachery, but had your own reasons for wanting to come here.”

  The corset slipped all the way down, leaving her in the velvet underdress. Bri stepped out of the useless thing and kicked it into the corner. She slumped on the bed. The furs were looking more and more inviting. She yawned, yanking off her boots.

  “That’s all technically true.”

  “I know.” Ryder pulled back the covers for her and tucked her in. He hovered beside her, half-faded into the shadows. “The key is to be as honest as possible while divulging as little as possible.”

  Bri hummed in response, her eyes fluttering back open. Before he could disappear entirely, she grabbed his hand. “Ryder?”

  “Yes, love?”

  “Will you give Lucas a message for me?”

  He folded her arm and placed her hand on her chest, tucking her back in. “If I can.”

  “Tell him…” she closed her eyes and worried her lower lip, wondering what she could possibly say—through this particular messenger, especially—that could put things back on an even keel between them. “Tell him I forgive him. For nearly getting himself killed.”

  The last thing she heard as she drifted off was the echo of a soft chuckle.

  ***

  Ryder arrived in Hedvika’s chambers only moments before she did. The rooms were the same as when he’d left, but nearly three hundred years of intervening history was evident in the lavish furnishings, art, and books she’d collected since. He rifled through drawers, delighted to find she’d kept up her indulgent habit of collecting fascinating underthings.

  There were heaps of jewels, but he’d already seen the one he wanted hanging around her neck.

  Next to her heart…

  He shu
ddered, disgusted at the slight thrill the thought gave him.

  How can she still have any hold on me?

  Though he was planning to exploit the same power over her. To use the sick, twisted web of their past to ensnare and eventually strangle her.

  Assuming she’ll let you in again.

  As if in answer, the candles lighting the room snuffed out, drenching it in the comforting cloak of darkness.

  His domain.

  “Kristjjan,” Hedvika said from the doorway.

  “Blossom,” he answered in his silkiest tone. He twisted into shadow so that he could coil around her. He did not dare drink from her—not until she begged for it—but he made sure she felt him glide over every inch, even the gaps between her clothes and skin. Her goosebumps and the hitch in her breath were proof enough that he had not lost his effect.

  “Miss me?”

  “As one misses a dagger in their heart once they begin to bleed out.”

  He laughed against her ear. “Such pretty words, Vika.”

  “Why have you come back?”

  Ryder took a solid form, and she clung to him. He wrapped her in his arms and spoke into her hair. “Haven’t you guessed, my love?”

  Her fingers twisted in his cloak. “Don’t toy with me. Speak plainly.”

  “I’ve finally found a solution to our dilemma, haven’t I?” He paused a beat, until she exhaled. “If I have another Skydancer to feed from, you have nothing to fear from me.”

  She stiffened and reared back to strike him. “She is not a vessel for you to use, you gluttonous beast! Do you think I would give her over to you and your savage hungers?”

  Though she meant to remind him of his past failings, his weakness, he saw the embers of long-simmering jealousy spark in her cold gaze. The barb hit its mark, but he did not give her the reaction she sought. He slid into shadow again, making his voice calm and soothing. “I didn’t realize she was so important to you, Blossom.”

  Truth. What in the bleeding hell would she want with another Skydancer—a rival? It was counter to everything he knew about her. Was she only jealous, not wanting him to feed from another? Or did she have her own designs for Bri already? It was an interesting turn that he planned to delve into…later.