by Dana Archer
Something hits me from behind. I fall forward. My extended claws pierce my chest as I land face-first in the ground. Agony grips me, worse than moments ago when my ribs snapped. Blood fills my mouth. I can taste the metallic liquid on my tongue. Smell the dank earth in my lungs. I lick my lips. Blood and dirt coat them. Both are real.
“Get up, Rick! Please, get up!” Mya’s voice reaches me. She’s right. I need to get up and finish this while I’m still able to reason.
I push to my knees and cough, sending another burst of agony through my chest. More blood fills my mouth. I spit it out.
Movement catches my eye. I see a hazy version of Uri on the other side of the circle. He has his palms flattened on the shimmering surface of the dome separating us. “Remember what Molly told you! She told you how to win!”
Molly. Her image flashes before me. There’s no blood on her face this time. Molly looks up at me, pleading with me. “The gods chose the men who used Ambrosia successfully and were able to tap into its powers. They knew how to embrace pain. It made them faster, stronger, and smarter. They could see things their opponents couldn’t before they happened.”
She’s right. Our forefathers were fighters. So am I.
I drag a clawed hand over my chest. My sharpened nails scratch bones. Fiery pain spreads through my muscles. Head to toe, I burn. A matching energy races into me through the balls of my feet. The agony gripping me lessens as strength floods me. Illusion or not, I can’t be sure, but fogginess doesn’t cloud my vision, sounds reach me as clear as ever, and scents register as they did before I drank the Ambrosia-laced drink.
Wyatt’s stench intensifies. The rhythmic beat of his heart grows closer. I still my body, waiting for him to get within striking distance. He’s behind me, creeping up like a coward. That’s all he’s ever been. He won’t attack someone unless he knows he can win.
He’s afraid of failing.
My guess might be way off. Maybe he just enjoys the power rush he gets from abusing those incapable of fighting him. In the end, it doesn’t matter what’s driven him to this point. His life ends here. Now.
A series of images dance across my mind: Wyatt leaping at my back, me spinning around and clawing him open, Wyatt holding his stomach with one hand and reaching for the broken mug with his other. His mouth moves. Then he’s lunging at me with the shard of glass.
A soft whoosh draws me out of the vision. With an arm outstretched, I pivot. My clawed fingers connect with Wyatt’s side. Exactly as the vision portrayed. I rip him open from his hip to his upper chest. Blood gushes from the wounds. A sour scent chokes me. I must’ve nicked his stomach.
Wyatt grunts and covers his gut with the hand I broke minutes ago. It’s bent at an odd angle and turning blue. With his good hand, he grabs a piece of the broken mug.
“You die!” Features contorted in rage, Wyatt leaps at me.
I grab his wrist and bend it back, snapping it. His bones protrude. His blood sprays me. His screech carries through the night. Sheer agony contorts his features. I use the moment to my advantage. With both hands, I grasp his head and twist, cracking his neck. Life fades from his eyes
A tremor shakes the ground beneath me. Power rushes into me. It’s pleasure and pain. Every inch of my body burns. I tip my head back on a bellowed scream that lasts forever.
Soft hands touch my arm, cooling the burn consuming me. The scent of heaven invades me, replacing the stench of death. Peace spreads, easing the tension in my muscles. I dip my head on a groan. This illusion is better. I feel normal. Sane.
“Rick, are you okay?”
Mya. It’s Mya touching me.
I scramble away from the woman I’ve fallen in love with. How could I not? Her purity and goodness shine within me, brightening my soul and my life.
Crouched several feet away from her with my hands flattened on the ground, I drink in the image of my true mate. With her wavy red hair pulled into a ponytail and loose lounging-type clothes covering her body, she looks innocent and carefree, as if she was ready to spend her evening on her couch, snuggled under a blanket with a book on her lap. Her puffy eyes and reddened cheeks tell another story. She cried over me.
“Don’t come near me! Don’t you see me?” I scream the question. “I’m crazed! A wounded animal! I might attack you. Hurt you.” I swallow hard. The very idea of injuring Mya churns my stomach. I double over and fight the rolling in my gut.
Mya drapes her arm over my shoulder. I try to shake her off. She digs her nails into my biceps. “Stop, Rick. Stop! You’re not going to hurt me.”
“The Ambrosia…”
“Is out of your system.” Mya presses her lips to my temple. “Channeling it cancels the dangerous effects it can cause. Uri explained that. The Ambrosia healed you too. Look.” She traces the claw mark she left on my chest. “Only my claim on you mars your skin. All the other wounds are gone.”
“Not mar.” I focus on Mya’s green eyes from inches away. “Your claim on me is beautiful. I love knowing I wear the sign of your love.”
Mya smiles. It turns her already gorgeous face into a thing of beauty. She looks like an angel. “I do love you. I love you more than anything.”
“Not more than your children.” I trace Mya’s delicate jaw. Peyton and Rey have the same delicate features as their mother. They’re going to break a whole lot of men’s hearts once they get older. “That’s how it should be too.”
“They’re my heart.” Mya cups my face in her hands. “You’re my soul. I’d be only half a woman without you.”
I lean in and brush my lips over Mya’s. “Then let me guarantee you never do. Allow Ethan to bless our union under the light of the full moon.”
“I’ve already asked him if he would. We’re returning to this circle in a couple of days.”
I chuckle. My female has made up her mind about our future, just as she did when she decided she was going to claim me as hers. “Good, then it’ll give us a couple of days to order rings. We’ll be marrying in the way of humans too. I want the world to know you’re mine and I’m yours.”
“Then be prepared for me to introduce you to everyone we meet as the best husband any woman ever snagged.”
“Like mother, like daughters.” I wrap my arms around Mya. “I couldn’t have asked for anything better.”
Epilogue, plus next book preview
Ilan Kane
Full moons in January are always powerful. Each one marks the anniversary of the day the first Royals were cast from the heavens. My father told me and my brothers, Brock and Gabriel, the story of the last time he touched his mother’s hand. No tears fell from the goddess of the Kane pack’s deep orange eyes. Instead, she gave her young son a warning:
Love is a lie. Don’t fall for it.
I’ve lived by those words. For several millennia.
The devotion displayed in Rick’s and Mya’s gazes as they share their first dance as man and wife threatens to shatter my convictions, however. They love each other. How that’s even possible so soon, I can’t fathom. I also can’t deny it. My wolves see the way Rick’s and Mya’s souls reach for each other. There’s a mystical tether between them. Death will stretch it, not break their bond.
“Death walks among us.”
Molly’s statement draws my gaze to her. Standing with her hands clasped in front of her pale pink dress, she resembles a young angel, especially with her nearly white hair loose around her cherub face. Lurking in this dark corner of the Black Widow, Molly appears out of place. At least until you meet her cold gaze. Yes, the shadows suit Molly just fine.
I step closer to the young Royal pride leader. Talk of death doesn’t belong here during this celebration of life. Or anywhere, for that matter. Death comes in silence. At least that’s my preferred delivery method. A screaming victim draws too much attention.
“Why are you hiding back here? Your twin is over there with Peyton and Rey.” I jerk my head in their direction.
“I see her.” Molly doesn’t glance a
t where the three girls are hovering around the jukebox, waiting to pick the next song to play.
“Then join them.” I don’t want any witnesses of my departure. I plan on exiting this town the same way I came—in secret.
“Death walks among us.” Molly repeats her words.
I’ve heard how odd this child acted. How she can be creepy one minute and normal the next. Of course, I can only compare Molly to Peyton’s and Rey’s behavior. They’re the only children I’ve been around over my long life. My brothers and I have refused to weaken our powerful blood by breeding. Our grandmother—and goddess—would be proud.
“Death is a part of life.” Except for the Royals. We share in our goddess’s immortality. Molly, despite being born a mortal single shifter, does too.
I won’t question the Leon spirit’s choice in hosts. After spending the past few years among humans and single shifters, I can understand the powerful drive to protect them. For the Leon spirit, being bonded to such a fragile soul must’ve been worse.
“It’s coming for your pack, Ilan Kane. Only three more to go.”
Two, actually. I felt my brother Brock’s death. Only Gabriel, my older brother and the alpha of our small pack, and I remain.
“Then I will greet it with fury and resistance.” As long as I breathe, my father—the spirit of our pack—will return to me before ascending to the heavens if Gabriel is killed.
Molly nods, looking pleased with my answer to her vague declaration. “Good. The future of your pack rests in your hands.”
No, it rests in Gabriel’s hands. He’s the one obligated to breed. The unsavory deed will only become mine if he loses his head. That’s not an outcome I want to consider. Assassins don’t create life or nurture it. We take it.
I scan the room, looking for someone to save me from this encounter. While I don’t fear this small child as some other Royals do, I don’t know what to say to her.
My gaze collides with the gray-eyed human female who haunts my nightmares.
Ugh. I’ve done well avoiding eye contact with Sara for months. It’s been closer to a year since I’ve spoken to her. Apparently, my lucky streak ends tonight.
Sara holds my gaze for longer than any sane human should. Doesn’t the woman possess any sense of self-preservation? I’m not the type of man she should desire. Yet, she does. I’ve known that since I started working at the Black Widow. Maybe once I’m gone, she can find some human to look at the way she does me. Obviously, my avoidance of her hasn’t dimmed her interest.
Brows raised slightly, I tip my head toward Molly in a silent plea. Sara turns to the human mate of a Royal feline from this area and says something. Using my wolves’ combined senses, I could easily zero in on Sara’s words to learn what she was talking about. I won’t. My wolves like the sound of Sara’s voice.
Forcing them back into the mystical realm where they live inside my body and soul would take a considerable effort. It’d also leave me with three very angry wolves. They wouldn’t soon let me forget how I forced them into the shadows instead of allowing them to bask in Sara’s goodness. Best I don’t allow them any glimpses of heaven. We don’t belong there.
Both Sara and the Royal’s mate make their way toward us. Molly’s annoyed sigh reflects her thoughts on talking to either human.
Sara crouches in front of Molly. “Would you show Lena where Peyton and Rey’s gift for their mommy and Rick is at? It’s supposed to be a surprise, but if they leave now to get it, Mya will know something’s up. She always seems to sense when they’re not in the room.”
Of course Mya does. She’s a protective shifter mother who’s tuned in to her children’s scent and voice. Any changes to either would trigger her instincts.
Sara, however, doesn’t know she’s been babysitting shifters for the past six years. Or that she’s been lusting after one.
Molly turns her pale blue eyes to me. The reluctance in them is clear. She doesn’t want to go. “Ilan and I were talking.”
Lena settles her hand on Molly’s back and urges her away from me. “Ilan’s not going anywhere. We haven’t done the father-daughter dance yet.” Lena’s eyes sparkle with amusement. “Since Ilan gave Mya away at the wedding, he’s up for the dance too.”
Nobody told me about that. “I don’t dance.”
Sara laughs, and my world tilts. This is why I avoid her. The woman’s wicked. She wields her looks and voice like weapons. Every smile, every lighthearted giggle, and every coy glance threatens to sway me. Can’t let it happen. She’d be the one hurt if I crumbled. I don’t stick around after the sex is over.
“Mya is a great dancer.” Sara’s smile turns mischievous. “Let her lead you.”
Molly studies me intently. “You’re staying?”
“Apparently.” The moment the music stops, I’m walking. I’ve overstayed my welcome in this town.
“Good.” Molly follows Lena toward the kitchen, leaving me alone.
With Sara.
Who’s going to save me from this?
“Josh told me you’re leaving.”
Sara’s announcement stirs my anger. I swore Josh to secrecy. He wasn’t supposed to say anything. I only told him so he’d be able to cover my shift. After all the human’s done for me, I couldn’t just not show up for work. This is what acting like a decent human gets me.
“Yeah.” I shrug. “Mya’s in good hands. No reason for me to stick around.”
“Oh.” Sara says the word on a shaky exhale. Her shoulders slumping, she glances at the floor. “Where are you moving to?”
The desire to tip up Sara’s chin so I can see her eyes is nearly impossible to resist. Only knowing I can’t touch this female stops me from giving in to the urge. “Don’t know. Just going to get in the car and drive.”
“When are you leaving?”
“Today.”
Sara nibbles on her lower lip. My body tenses. I want to pull her close and suck on the tender flesh she’s abusing. Can’t. Sara’s a delicate rose. She’ll be ruined if I touch her, and I’ll bleed.
“Is it possible to wait until tomorrow?” Without raising her head, Sara looks at me from under her lashes. “I sorta…maybe…might’ve promised you’d be home tonight.”
I bite back my curse. “To who?”
“I didn’t get names.” Sara’s brows pinch, and the stench of embarrassment sours her rich scent. “They said they were friends of yours.”
“And you believed them?” After working in the same bar with me for years, she should know I don’t have friends. Except, maybe, for the people in this bar.
Sara tenses. She yanks her wide-eyed gaze to mine. “I didn’t tell them where you lived or anything. They didn’t ask. That’s why I thought they were friends.”
Eyes closed, I pinch the bridge of my nose and will myself to remain calm. This isn’t the right place or time to lose my temper. “Did they say why they want to see me?”
“To deliver a package.” Sara grasps my hand. Energy rushes through me. My wolves stir, drawn forth by her touch. It’s the first time her skin has met mine. “They said it’s fragile and precious, that you have to be there to receive it in person.”
Probably a lure to kill me. Once I’m gone, they can behead Gabriel and steal my father’s soul. The power of the Kane pack will be lost.
I crack my jaw. “They didn’t say what they want to deliver, did they?”
“No, but…” Sara drops her hand, ending the pleasured torture of her skin on mine. “They didn’t feel like bad guys. I…I believed them when they said it was important.”
The pain reflected in Sara’s voice cuts me. She thought she was doing the right thing. I can’t fault her for it. She’s only human. Her gut instincts about people are worthless. She also wouldn’t suspect the men she’d spoken to are likely planning my death.
“It’s okay.” I brush a few strands of dark brown hair from Sara’s cheek. “I’ll stay and get whatever package they want me to have.”
Or not.
I might be an assassin, but I’m not stupid enough to walk unprepared into a trap.
Sara’s relieved smile brightens her face, bringing out laugh lines by her eyes I’d like to trace and memorize. “Good. I’d hate for you to miss out on something important.”
Though innocent, Sara’s words hit me square in the chest. She has no idea how true they are and what leaving her is doing to me.
There are billions of souls on this planet. The odds aren’t great for a shifter to meet his true mate. When a shifter is lucky enough to find his, he should claim her, binding their souls together for all time. He’d never have to face life alone. A single thought would allow him to walk through his mate’s soul, relishing her sweetness. Or allow her to walk through his soul, experiencing his every memory.
The things Sara would uncover about my past would break her mind.
“Molly chose a song for us.” Mya steps next to me, saving me from coming up with a faked response to Sara’s statement. Mya holds out a hand. “Will you dance with me?”
Without looking at Sara, I take Mya’s hand and lead her to the dance floor, but I feel Sara’s gaze on my back. I want to look at her one last time. Can’t. I don’t need any more images to add to my nightmares. I’ve made enough memories over these past six years to last an eternity. Better I live with the regret of me walking away than for Sara to live with the regret of me staying.
Someday, my wolves will thank me for this. They hate seeing Sara cry. After drowning in the sins I’ve committed, she’d never smile again.
The series continues with Ilan.
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Sara
After tonight, I need to hand in my good citizenship badge. I’m officially turning into a criminal.
No lights shine from inside the cabin in the woods, confirming what I already know. Ilan Kane, the owner of this place, is gone.