Chapter 18 – Regina #2
“Rebecca was bad enough,” he growls. “You’re not going anywhere near that necromancer when we don’t even know what he’s capable of.”
“What we do know he’s capable of is pretty fucking terrifying,” Micah agrees.
“I’m not talking about the necromancer.” I hold his gaze, refusing to back down.
“I’m talking about the coven’s mansion. The Council searched it after the meadow, but they might have missed something.
Something that only someone who actually lived there would recognize, in places only I would know where to look for them. ”
Killian’s brows furrow. I see him processing, trying to find a reason to object that doesn’t boil down to “I’m afraid of losing you.”
Unfortunately for him, it’s mutual.
And that’s exactly why I have to do this.
Villeneuve speaks before Killian can formulate an argument. “That’s inadvisable.”
I turn back to him, surprised he’s on their side about anything. “Why?”
“The mansion has been sealed by the Council. Any magical signatures that remained have likely been catalogued and removed.” He pauses. “That and returning to a location connected to your former coven could be emotionally destabilizing.”
“I’m not fragile.”
“I didn’t say you were.” His voice is careful. “I said it could be destabilizing. There’s a difference.”
“She’s not going,” Killian says flatly.
“Agreed,” Villeneuve adds.
I stare at them both.
They’re on the same page. The alpha wolf who wants to protect me from everything and the ancient dragon who apparently also wants to protect me from everything, unified in their opposition.
This is not how I wanted them to get along. A real monkey’s paw situation I’ve got on my fucking hands here.
“You two agreeing about something is extremely unsettling,” I say. “Just so you know.”
“Noted,” Villeneuve says.
“Broken clocks and all that,” Killian grumbles.
Sean looks at the one above the fireplace in confusion, clearly unaware of the saying.
I take a breath, summoning patience I don’t have.
“Look,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “I understand why you’re both worried. I do. But sitting here waiting for Vyse to maybe find something isn’t a plan. It’s just hoping. And hope isn’t going to save Killian.”
Killian winces. He’s an alpha, so the fact that there’s anyone out there who might be hunting me is already driving him crazy. The fact that I want to go out there to track that person down is probably even more maddening.
“I lived in that mansion for years,” I continue.
“I know every room, every hidden space, every weird quirk of the architecture. I know where Kyle kept his important documents and where the werewolf was being held. The Council sent in investigators who’ve never set foot in that place before. They wouldn’t know what to look for.”
Micah clears his throat from the couch. “She’s got a point.”
“Team Storm!” Sean says, throwing up his fists like we’re at a football game.
“Stay out of this,” Killian growls at him.
“No, seriously.” Micah stands, adjusting his glasses. “Regina knows that mansion better than anyone. If there’s something there that could help us, she’s the most likely person to find it. And it’s not like she’d be alone.”
Sean nods in agreement. “Plus, the Council already cleared the place, right? And we’ve got a fire-breathing dragon on our side now.”
Villeneuve looks at him sideways. “You are entirely too interested in fire, Mr. Brewer.”
I turn to Rowan, giving him my most hopeful look, and he sighs.
“I’m on the fence,” he says carefully. “I don’t like it, but… they have a point. Right now, it’s just an empty building.”
“It’s an empty building connected to people who want to drag her back to Kyle,” Killian counters.
“Kyle’s gone,” I say. “Probably being held captive by the same necromancer we’re trying to hunt down. The rest of the coven is either dead or in Council custody. There’s no one left to drag me anywhere.”
Villeneuve is watching me with that unreadable expression of his. I can feel him wavering, even though he’s shielding his thoughts through the bond. He’s a little too good at that.
Then again, I didn’t even know it existed until recently.
“The mansion is warded,” he says finally. “Council containment protocols. You wouldn’t be able to enter without authorization.”
“So get me authorization.”
His lips twitch. “You assume I have that kind of influence.”
“You’re an ancient dragon who’s been manipulating supernatural politics for eight centuries. If you can’t get one little authorization cleared, I’ll eat my grimoire.”
Rowan lets out a surprised laugh. “She’s got you there, Prof.”
Villeneuve’s expression doesn’t change, but his posture shifts. Clearly, I’ve ruffled some feathers. Or scales. “I may be able to arrange something.”
“No.” Killian’s voice is harder now. “I don’t care if she’s got a point. I don’t care if the Council clears it. She’s not going back to that place.”
I close the distance between us, standing close enough to see the gold flickering in his blue eyes.
“Killian.” I keep my voice gentle. “I need to do something. We can’t just sit here and wait while you…
” I stop myself before I can finish that sentence and swallow.
“I need to feel like I’m contributing. Like I’m not completely helpless.
I’ve spent years feeling that way, and I promised myself I never would again. ”
His jaw works. I can see the conflict playing out across his features, the alpha instincts warring with his understanding of who I am, what I need.
“If something happens to you out there...” His voice comes out rough. “If we—if I—can’t protect you, I can’t fucking live with that.”
“It won’t.” I reach up, cupping his face in my hands. His skin is warm against my palms, so much warmer than it should be. Another symptom. Another sign of the war happening inside him. “We’re going as a pack. All of us.”
Including Villeneuve, whether he wants to be a part of that pack or not.
Killian closes his eyes and takes a breath that shudders through his whole body.
“Fine,” he says finally. “But we’re not staying longer than necessary. In and out. That’s it.”
“In and out,” I agree. “I promise.”
Villeneuve clears his throat. “I’ll contact my Council liaison. Assuming they cooperate, we can have authorization by tomorrow morning.”
“Thank you.”
He inclines his head slightly. “Don’t thank me yet. The mansion may yield nothing useful. This could be a waste of time and energy that would be better spent elsewhere.”
“Maybe,” I admit. “But it’s better than just sitting here doing nothing.”
He scoffs. “We’ll see.”
“Are all dragons that arrogant?” Rowan asks once Villeneuve leaves and is presumably out of earshot.
“Who knows?” Micah answers with a shrug. “Dude’s the last of his kind.”
“Like that little unicorn bro,” Sean says, his eye a bit mistier than it was a second ago.
“Technically, I think she was a bro-ette,” Killian says, but his heart’s not in the banter tonight.
At least he’s trying.
“Oh, fuck, don’t get him started with that again,” Rowan pleads.
“I told you not to let him watch that movie,” Micah says, coming back from the fridge with several beers nestled between his fingers. He passes them out, but I shake my head when he offers me one.
“That Red Bull was such a dick,” Sean whispers, burying his head in his hands. “Haven’t been able to drink that stuff after what he did.”
Rowan’s eyes narrow. “You do know the bull in the movie has absolutely nothing to do with the—”
Micah shakes his head.
I tune them out, letting the gentle sounds of their ridiculous bickering fade into background noise. Sean is right about one thing.
Villeneuve is the last of his kind.
It’s not an excuse for anything he’s done, but I also can’t pretend to understand his motivations when I don’t know what it’s like. Being a siphon was isolating in its own way, before the pack, but at least I knew there were others like me out there.
As much as I hated myself at times, I never felt like my very existence was wrong.
I’ve had weeks to wonder what Villeneuve meant when he said he was protecting me from himself, but I think I’m finally beginning to understand. There was never any part of him that thought I would accept him as my mate if he just came to me and told me the truth.
Not when he can’t even accept himself.