Chapter 60
Sixty
CARINA
In the past few days, I’ve gone from one identity to multiple.
From having one mother to two.
From not knowing who my father was to learning he’s a shifter.
From being a witch to becoming a hybrid.
From wielding water magick to also claiming black magick.
From one coven to a second.
From being single to being a shifter’s mate.
From controlling my mind to having it invaded.
Kill.
Take.
Power.
It’s too many changes in one go, which is why I spend the few hours on Ryder’s back trying to block it all out.
When that doesn’t work, I force him to release me so I can walk it out by maintaining as close to a speed to the shifters.
If the Darkness won’t shut up, perhaps exhausting my body will cease the voices.
I’m not handling the changes at all.
I’m pretending to.
Being Dark, being a shifter’s mate—let’s add that to all the other shit in my life I already deal with and don’t want: being a coven’s heir, or learning my birth coven is in hiding.
When Ryder trails me to the stream, I’m unsure whether to tell him to go away or not. When he insists we “talk,” I accept it, using his explanations of the past week to distract myself from my harsh new reality. The more Ryder talks, the less Darkness does.
But that doesn’t mean it’s completely silent. While he’s explaining about the n?kak?stis bond, the voice slithers in.
He’s taking choices away, exactly like your mother.
When he recounts trying to get rid of me, Darkness has its own explanation.
You’re a witch. He’s a shifter.
Or, perhaps that’s my insecurity.
Every few moments, he takes a step nearer, and it’s hard to not run away. To hear him out and remind myself this is the same Ryder I’ve gotten close to. The one I kissed because I wanted to.
The one I returned for.
The new term he’s throwing around doesn’t change anything.
Except it does. It changes everything. In the matter of that night, sex altered my life for good, giving me a possessive wolf who’ll trail me around. A wolf, and then Darkness—all new, all too much.
He never wanted me.
He claims to, but from our very first meeting, had instincts not stopped him, he would have killed me for being on his territory.
He kept me around because something in his body demanded it, not because he wanted to.
He bonded with me to save me from Sloane out of some misplaced guilt and male shifter attitude that insists he protect females.
He’s pressing against me now, saying words that truly threaten the walls I’ve spent all afternoon building around my consciousness to keep Darkness away. To make myself safe to be around others.
My head is lighter with him around. The voice a mere occasional whisper.
“The day Sloane came, I failed, but you’re back with me, and when we get home, that’s all you’ll ever be—mine.”
I can’t be his. I’m not even mine anymore.
My head thumps at the mental walls. Darkness is knocking again.
No, no, no, go away!
Pressure. I need pressure. Hands to my temples.
But if I do it now, he’ll notice. He’ll realize I’m not in control, and then he’ll attempt to help.
His hands cup my face, and for a moment, everything goes blank. There is no babbling brook behind me, no evening sun above. No Darkness nor Light. No Hecate. No packs. No covens.
Just us.
Two confused souls thrown together time after time because of fate.
He’s talking about being able to sense my emotions, so I ask the appropriate question in response, to keep him talking and distracted, while my mine drifts.
Only returned—albeit momentarily—by the brush of his fingers against the place he bit. A moan travels up my throat, and my head falls to the side, craving more of his touch. For him to stroke my neck and then take me in all the ways he’s promising.
He’s controlling you.
I jerk away, my heart rate speeding so fast my chest stings.
Kill him. Become stronger.
My hands dive into my hair, pressing against my temples, waiting for the magick to shut up.
“No, I’m sorry, but no. Thank you, for explaining all that…but no. It doesn’t change anything.”
Feelings don’t work like that, especially not now.
Being chained to this man—to anyone, really—is the last thing my life needs, no matter how much I’ve enjoyed our time together.
He’s funny, and kind when he wants to be, and sexier than anyone else, and makes me feel, maybe just maybe, that four-letter emotion hidden beneath a shattered heart.
His fingers brush my elbow. “Carina, it’s real.”
“None of it matters. You bonded with me to save me—and you have. Not because you feel anything. Regardless”— my head shakes—“I need to go home. To my home. I need to get away from you and from everyone and just be alone. I’m not good anymore, Ryder. The Darkness… It’s in control and I’m not.”
Alone, alone, alone.
Mom—to tell her what happened.
Jasper—to give him the leather bracelet in my pocket.
And then to be alone until Darkness lets me take control again. Mom will be able to help with spells and meditation and circle ceremonies; she’ll help me retain control.
I need to go home and get away from Ryder and his people.
“What does that mean?” Steps thunder behind me, his presence chipping away at every brick laid today. “Carina…kamahki.”
That name again. Whatever it means, it’s one of adoration. His tone has only ever been affectionate.
“It means you can’t be near me. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Hurt?” A hand grasps my hip and nudges me to face him. No matter how much I hide, I can’t—not from him. Not now where we’re so open.
Home.
I need to go home.
A finger pushes my chin up, silver meeting purple. “You could never hurt me. Not like that.”
Kill.
My eyes tighten. A thumb brushes the corner.
“You’re crying.”
Am I?
“Open your eyes.”
No.
“Please.”
It’s his plea that does it. Whispered against my lips, the heat of his mouth imprinting his soul onto mine.
Trick. He’s ensuring you don’t kill him. Don’t fall for it.
Another tear slides down my cheek—one I actually feel—as I obey him and let my eyes open to his heartbreak.
Little does he know it’ll only get worse from here.
He cups my face again, drawing me to him. His chest against mine, his heart against mine. “Kamahki, talk to me. Explain. Nothing will ever harm you again, I promise. I’ll die before you’re hurt again.”
Words form, pushed between dry, cracking lips filled with so many emotions they’re impossible to sort through. “You can’t protect me from this.”
“I’ll protect you against the world. Yourself included.”
He can’t. Kill him now. Become stronger.
There’s only one part the voice was correct about.
“Not this,” I repeat—whisper, turning my head until speaking to his fingertips. A brush of his skin when my heart longs for more. Fingers caress my throat until he tips my face and lowers his head.
Don’t do it. Please, Ryder, don’t do it.
But because he can’t read my mind, my plea is ignored, and he presses his lips to mine. Light. Gentle. A promise whispered as a kiss. No possession for once, but a display of what his promise is.
Kill.
Kill.
Kill.
Darkness rises inside me. Slithering links around my neck, slipping beneath his hold. Ryder won’t be able to feel how it’s pushing him aside for itself, but I do.
Kill him.
I yank away. “Ryder—”
“Ryder!” A body streaks from the woods towards us, and I don’t think, don’t mean to.
I just react. Me. Not Darkness.
As a single thought—an instinct—consumes me.
Protect.