Chapter 13
TARIAN
H e was finally holding Seris in his arms—but she was trembling for all the wrong reasons. She was terrified of him, and doing magic upon her hadn’t granted her clarity in the least.
“The men are coming up!” Rocky barked, skidding to a halt at the base of the closest stairs, his scruffy tail rigid with urgency.
Tarian grunted in response, shifting Seris in his arms as he sprinted for the furthest stairwell.
Her weight was nothing to him, but her struggles made every step heavier.
She writhed back and forth, clawing at his chest, trying to scream through the silence his spell had forced upon her.
When that failed, she kicked wildly, her heels thudding uselessly against his thighs.
Her touch didn’t hurt him—but the fact that she was trying to hurt him? It was agony.
Rax had told him once about how his mate, Samantha, had reacted to him initially—with fear, mistrust, and anger.
Twice, Rax had resorted to magic to put her to sleep, to save her from herself.
But Samantha had been a stranger to Rax then.
Seris was not a stranger to him. They knew each other, heart and soul. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
He thundered down the stairs, Rocky darting ahead. The Jaguar was too far in the wrong direction, but there was some sort of boxy red contraption nearer. He flung its doors open with magic, using the same to turn it on, and practically threw her inside of it, as Rocky leapt in after.
He cleared the front of the vehicle in an instant, settling himself only for a second before hitting the gas to peel out—at the same time Seris’s hand shot for the door handle.
“No!” he growled, his magic slamming the locks into place. His heart pounded, his voice rough with desperation. “You will not harm yourself!”
Her head snapped toward him, her wide eyes blazing with fury and panic. She slammed a fist against the door, testing the strength of his magic. Her silent screams pressed against the air like phantom echoes, cutting him to his core.
“Put on your seatbelt,” he barked.
She didn’t move, her defiance a palpable force between them. Headlights flared in the mirror—each flicker a dagger to his spine.
“Seris,” he bit out, his tone softer but no less commanding. “Please.”
She stared at him for a long moment, her chest heaving, her fingers trembling against the edge of the seat. Her eyes were unreadable, filled with too many emotions for him to name.
She didn’t move. He reached across her, snapping the belt into place with a sharp click.
Her breath hitched as his hand brushed her arm. He lingered for a fraction of a second longer than necessary, willing her to feel it—to remember.
But when he pulled back, she turned her head sharply, refusing to meet his gaze.
Tarian exhaled shakily, his hands tightening on the wheel. They were three blocks away now, but they weren’t safe yet. Not from the headlights in his mirrors. And not from the storm brewing between them.
“Are you sure this is the right girl?” Rocky asked from the passenger side footwell.
“Yes,” he said.
Rocky made a grumbling sound. “I don’t think she agrees.”
“Well, she is wrong,” Tarian announced firmly—and out of the corner of his eye he saw Seris wince.
This was not at all going according to plan—probably because he didn’t have one.