by Young, S.
Paintings of previous owners and beautifully woven tapestries covered the brick walls. Rugs were placed carefully around the hall to break up the uneven wooden flooring.
At one end of the room the large fireplace had been reinstated, and it crackled to life, the smell of burning logs filling the hall. Callie usually enjoyed the smell and was sure the human guards were grateful for a fire on a dreary spring day such as this.
But everything about Castle Cara chafed.
Although she’d never say so to Conall, she’d felt like a prisoner from the moment she’d entered Jasper Ashforth’s domain. Guards, werewolves, and humans during the day, vampires at night, followed her and James everywhere.
It hadn’t been so difficult to endure when they were in contact with Conall but they’d heard nothing from her brother, and Ashforth wasn’t telling.
He’d stationed guards at each end of the hall, eyes and ears every bloody where. Callie knew from a visit to Eilean Donan that these medieval castles usually had little spy holes in the great hall, so the owner could listen in on his or her guests.
She wouldn’t put it past Ashforth to use them.
For the millionth time since her disease had taken root, Callie cursed the uselessness of her body. Once incredibly strong, it was torture to be locked inside her own limbs. To rely on a wheelchair when once she’d been faster than the wind.
To depend on James, a man she’d once hoped would be her husband, to push her around the bloody castle in her bloody wheelchair! There was a scream of frustration trapped inside Callie, one she’d smothered with her easy, breezy attitude to keep her brother and pack happy. She never wanted them to know how much she despaired.
If Conall was in danger, there was nothing she could do, and Callie’s bitterness over her powerlessness was growing by the hour. She’d tried so hard to stay positive, to be thankful for the time she’d had on Earth. To be grateful that she’d been born into an extraordinary world and blessed with a comfortable life and a loving family.
Yet as every hour crept by with no word from her brother, Callie finally lost her hold on the last of her optimism.
“He’ll be okay,” James said. “This is Conall we’re talking about.”
Callie wasn’t so sure. Her brother would find a way to get in contact with her if he could.
She opened her mouth to argue, no longer caring about the guards listening in, when a ruckus from outside stopped her. Both she and James turned to watch the entrance to the hall as the heavy wooden door pushed open.
Two guards led by Ashforth entered and Callie’s eyes widened when she saw they were carrying a young woman in their arms.
“Put her down,” Ashforth said, staring at Callie.
Callie didn’t trust the bastard. There was something oily and creepy about the fucker. She wondered how she and her brother hadn’t sensed it from the very first.
Perhaps desperation?
No. There was no perhaps about it.
They’d seen what they wanted to see because they were eager for her cure.
Dragging her eyes from her captor (because she was sure that’s what he was), Callie watched as the two guards dropped the woman as if she were of little importance.
Callie winced as the young woman’s head hit the hardwood floor, her dark hair falling away to reveal a beautiful face. She remained unconscious. Callie felt the air around the stranger. Her energy was dulled but it seemed to swell against Callie, like a force against her chest. That swelling sensation increased by the second. It almost reminded her of the pull of a full moon.
She wasn’t human.
Of that Callie was certain.
But she also wasn’t wolf or vampire.
Witch?
“This is Thea,” Ashforth announced.
Shock moved through her as she drank in the murderer Conall had been sent to hunt. This … this lovely creature was Thea Quinn?
Her eyes flew to James who was scowling at Ashforth. “Then where’s Conall?”
His mere name brought her brother’s scent to mind.
Callie’s head whipped back to Thea, and she pushed her wheelchair out from the table to roll a little closer. Her brother’s scent was on Thea.
No.
Not just on Thea, it was—
Surprise locked Callie in place.
Conall’s scent was a part of Thea’s scent. A mix of spice, earth, and something heady and sweet.
Thea’s scent mingled with her brother’s. Just like Callie’s mum’s and dad’s scents had become one.
No. Fucking. Way.
Her eyes flew to James but from his expression, he hadn’t picked up what she had.
“Your brother is alive.” Ashforth drew her attention and she tried to wipe the shock of the latest revelation off her face. “He attempted to betray me, but he’s still alive.”
“Betray you?” James asked.
Yes! Callie wanted to shout, her eyes darting to Thea in wonder. Because Ashforth was trying to take her brother’s true mate! Holy bloody Nora on a shit chute. Obviously, Callie’s feelings about Ashforth were true. The fucker had lied to them. And this was Conall’s mate.
Her brother had found his true mate.
Happiness and anger overwhelmed her as she realized … they were all now trapped with the enemy.
Bugger.
“He had no intention of handing over the woman who killed my wife. He was going to keep her to himself, use her abilities for his own purposes.”
“Bullshit,” Callie snapped.
“I echo that sentiment.” James pushed back from the table and rounded it to place a protective hand on Callie’s shoulder. “What the hell is going on here?”
“None of your concern.”
James continued to argue with the businessman, but Callie’s attention drew back to Thea. Her energy had stabilized, no longer a suffocating sensation against Callie’s chest, but there was a musky, coppery scent drifting toward them from the young woman.
Fear.
And that could only mean one thing.
Thea was awake. She knew Ashforth had her, and it terrified her.
Callie’s protective instincts flared. She couldn’t leave Conall’s mate to this arsehole.
“You’re free to leave,” Jasper said, stepping aside. “You’re no longer required to remain here.”
“Not without the cure for Callie,” James insisted. “You promised.”
“Conall didn’t live up to the bargain. Why should I?”
“Because we’ve sat in this castle like fucking prisoners for days and done everything you’ve asked. Give Callie the cure or face a war with Pack MacLennan.”
“Give her my blood.” A whisper from Thea.
Ashforth whipped around to stare at her, a kind of madness glazing his eyes. “Thea, you’re awake.”
Eyes the color of warm liquor stared at Callie, almost like she was afraid to look at Ashforth. Empathy echoed in Callie’s chest.
“Give her my blood,” Thea repeated softly as she slowly sat up.
“How—” Jasper nodded at two guards who stood over Thea. “The drug—”
“Doesn’t last so long anymore.” Thea held up her hands in a surrender gesture as she got to her feet. The guards instantly bound her wrists with metal handcuffs and agony flared across Thea’s face, her legs giving way.
She didn’t scream but dropped to the floor, teeth gritted as tears streamed down her cheeks.
“What are you doing to her?” Callie demanded, horrified.
“Iron,” Ashforth said. “Pure iron.”
Callie didn’t understand.
He smiled, a wicked, mad smile. “I’d leave if I were you.”
“No!” Thea bit out through the pain, her eyes blazing as she finally glared at Ashforth. “Give her my blood and I’ll play nice.”
Ashforth considered this and then nodded to a guard who disappeared out of the room. He strode slowly over to Thea and reached out to touch her cheek. She strained away from h
im with a snarl. “It’s true, then,” he whispered.
“What is going on?” James cut Callie a look.
She didn’t want to tell him if Ashforth didn’t know, but Thea was obviously determined to hold up to the bargain for Conall’s sake.
They couldn’t leave her.
Conall would never forgive her if she left his mate to this … brute.
And what was with the iron? Why did it hurt Thea so badly?
“Take the handcuffs off her,” Callie demanded. “It’s unnecessary.”
“Do I have your promise, Thea? I give the wolf your blood and you will submit to me.”
Thea jutted her chin out, her defiance in the face of her agony impressive. She was a warrior.
This pleased Callie beyond measure.
“I swear on Amanda’s grave I’ll play nice.”
Ashforth slapped her. Hard.
“Hey!” James shouted.
Callie’s nails bit into the arms of her wheelchair.
Thea merely smirked at Ashforth. “You can tell the entire world I killed her but we both know you got her killed. You put the bullet in her head. And you’ll never be able to lie to yourself about that.”
Another smack.
“Stop it!” Callie cried.
Thea laughed softly and then bared her teeth like a wolf at the billionaire. “You can’t hurt me anymore.”
Ashforth narrowed his eyes. “We’ll see about that, darling girl.” He nodded at the guards behind Thea and they bent to remove the handcuffs.
She hissed and slumped, bringing her arms forward. Her wrists were red, raw, and blistered like they’d been burnt.
“New scars to add to the collection,” Ashforth mused. “You’ll never be free of the marks I’ve made on your life.”
Thea didn’t answer this time, just stared at the wounds. Callie scowled. The woman was supposed to heal remarkably fast. That’s why her blood was a cure. But iron must be to Thea like silver was to a wolf.
“You bastard,” Callie sneered.
Ashforth cut her a dark look. “You have no idea what she’s capable of.”
“Shut up and give her my blood,” Thea ordered wearily.
The words were barely out of her mouth when the guard from earlier returned with a large needle. Thea sat back on her heels and rolled up her sleeve. She held out her hand. “I’ll do it.”
Ashforth decided not to argue and handed over the needle.
Thea turned her gaze to Callie as she plunged the needle into her arm and pulled on the plunger. The syringe filled quickly with her blood and when she pulled out the needle, there was no mark at all on her skin. The small prick healed over in an instant.
Callie’s eyes widened as Thea handed over the syringe to Ashforth. “Playing nice only continues if you give it to her now. I want to see for myself.”
With a curt nod, Ashforth turned and moved to the table. He emptied the blood into a glass and handed it to Callie.
Callie felt a little nauseated as the coppery smell filled her nostrils.
“Drink it,” James urged.
Ugh, really?
“Callie,” Thea spoke.
Her eyes flew to her.
“Drink it.”
With a nod, Callie closed her eyes and threw back the blood. It was disgusting, and she felt like retching it back up. Instead, she forced herself to swallow.
“Well?” James asked, his expression bright with hope.
Not feeling anything but the yucky, sludgy blood sitting in her gut, Callie shook her head.
James’s face clouded over and he opened his mouth to speak, to rage, probably, when Callie felt the sharp twinge in her spine. She held up a hand to stop James. The twinge turned to a flood of heat, like a course of hot water flowing down her back and settling at the base.
And then everywhere began to tingle. Energy sparked through her being, the fatigue melted from her mind, her limbs, and with a gasp of disbelief, Callie pushed up on the arms of the chair and her body moved.
It moved with ease, with a strength she never thought she’d feel again.
Tears flooded her eyes.
There was no more pain.
No more weakness.
In fact, she felt stronger than ever before.
Her blurry eyes caught on James’s.
Her love.
They could be together now.
“James …” She laughed, tears spilling down her cheeks.
He gave a bark of disbelief, his eyes shining, and then she was in his arms as he held her so tight. “You’re okay?” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. “Jesus fuck, you’re okay.”
Callie squeezed him tight and over his shoulder, she met Thea Quinn’s gaze.
The woman was staring at her, a sad smile softening her lips.
They couldn’t leave her.
She pulled back from James and moved to take a step toward Thea when the guards moved forward in warning. Callie drew to a stop, threw Ashforth a dirty look, and then faced Thea.
“Thank you,” she said solemnly. “Those words seem inadequate, but thank you.”
Thea nodded.
Callie looked to James, who still seemed confused by the whole situation. “We cannae leave her.”
The room went tense.
Callie couldn’t give a shit.
She’d take them all on.
“You have to,” Thea spoke, surprising her.
Callie looked back at her. “But—”
She shook her head. “He can’t lose you too. Please. You have to go.”
The thought of leaving Conall’s mate, who was willing to sacrifice herself for her brother’s family, made Callie want to howl the roof off the fucking castle. Indecision warred inside her.
Thea seemed to sense it. “Callie, you must go. You have to warn Conall. Tell him it was Richard Canid.”
“Shut up,” Ashforth demanded. “That’s not playing nice, Thea.”
Conall’s mate clamped her lips closed but her fierce eyes pleaded with Callie to go.
James took hold of Callie’s hand, his silent support telling her he’d follow her lead. Reluctantly, Callie realized if one of the Canids had betrayed her brother, he needed to know. She gave Thea a nod, but she hoped the woman could read the message in her eyes.
They would come back for her.
After the gift she’d given, there was no way Callie MacLennan would leave Thea here to rot in Jasper Ashforth’s hands.
And she understood her brother well enough to realize Conall would burn the world to the ground to get his mate back.
Leaving the building, Callie’s mind reeled as she got to grips with moving again. Her strides were easy and long-legged, and she knew if she wanted to, she could run and dive off a parapet of the castle straight into the loch with ease. Her whole life stretched before her again. A future. Options. Love.
She marveled, even as dread followed in her wake.
Taking the speedboat back to shore from its island in the middle of Loch Isla, Callie hated leaving Thea alone; and yet at the same time, she was selfishly glad to be free of the place.
Once she and James were on shore and alone, she turned to him.
“You’re walking, Callie,” James stared at her in awe. “I cannae believe you’re walking. You’re saved.”
“Aye.” She flashed him a quick grin that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “And after this is over, you will marry me, James Cairn.”
His lips trembled with laughter. “What a romantic proposal, Caledonia MacLennan.”
“I’d jump you,” she said, taking a step toward him to cup his handsome face in her hand. “But we need to move.”
His gaze turned questioning. “What did I miss back there?”
“She’s his mate, James. Thea is Conall’s true mate. His scent is her scent now. Like Mum and Dad. Why do you think she insisted on saving me before we were released?”
James staggered back a step, his expression slackening. Then understanding quickly
slipped into place, hardening his features. “Her scent.” He nodded, realizing. “Of course.” His eyes flew to the castle in the distance where a large boat waited at the castle dock. A boat probably intended for Thea. Their time was running out.
James bared his teeth. “Well … this definitely means war.”
Wanting Thea to get as much rest as possible before they rescued Callie and James and faced Ashforth, Conall decided to go ahead with strategizing with his pack at the Coach House without her. He would fill Thea in on the way to Castle Cara.
That had been the plan.
More hours had passed than he’d intended, but Conall had assumed if Thea had awoken and was restless, she would find her way easily to Torridon Coach House. Since she hadn’t shown up, he believed she was sleeping, and he was glad for it. Neither of them had much rest lately, and she’d need every ounce of energy and strength within her to face Ashforth and all the demons he represented.
However, something knotted in Conall’s gut as he approached his house, a feeling of unease he didn’t quite understand until he walked inside and felt the emptiness.
That was when he realized he couldn’t feel Thea. He was unable to track her. Fear slammed through him as he tore through the house looking for her. Then out into the garden, to the rocky loch shore.
She was nowhere.
Absolutely nowhere.
And he couldn’t feel her to track her.
It could only mean one thing: someone had drugged her with Ashforth’s concoction.
Conall got into the Defender and sped back to the Coach House, kicking up dirt and stones in his wake, the vehicle bouncing over terrain that was meant to be traversed carefully.
It was impossible to be careful.
He had no time for fucking careful.
His heart was thumping so hard, he was nauseated. His legs and hands trembled as he dove out of the car, just stopping himself from howling right there to draw his pack to him. Yet Conall knew he needed to stay focused and clearheaded. He couldn’t let himself think about Thea in Ashforth’s hands.