Chapter Twenty-Six
Theodore
Ihad quickly managed things at the small homestead, for luckily they had pigs, and caught up with Ben and Arch.
The three of us are flying in formation, scanning for her trail.
“She’s slick enough to use that stream,” I raise my voice to be heard, “Thinking we’d not suspect it because it’s too obvious.”
Arch nods and we dip closer to the trees to follow it.
Arch yells “There’s a small human homestead a few kilometers ahead; we’ll question them.”
We keep our slow, even pace, still hoping to find some small sign that we’re on the right track. Nothing.
When we find her, I’m going to be questioning her on her varied skills in some detail.
Soon, we veer from the river to land in the middle of a small clearing, surrounded by the quaint, well-kept houses. I haven’t visited the folks who live in our lands in a year, probably. I frown. Too long. Arch is too busy to do it and Ben doesn’t have the temperament for it.
I stretch my wings, preparing to fold them in but an angry scream pierces the air.
The three of us instantly rise and cross the distance on our wings. Arch kicks the door in and Ben and I tumble in after him.
The air is warm, stuffy, stale, but what makes my heart stop is the scene before me.
A heavy-set gargoyle with small wings is on his knees on the floor over another being who appears to be kneeling and kicking. The rending of damp fabric fills the air as his arms tear at her clothing and I see the peach-brown skin of human legs.
“FERN!” Arch bellows, just as her body hits the floor, scrabbling forwards on her belly.
The gargoyle on top of her grabs her shoulder and she twists suddenly, copper locks flying, bashing the gargoyle with a fire poker upside the head.
Arch is moving but I’m watching our bride.
She pulls her arm back and jams the poker through her attacker’s wing, twisting viscously.
The wet crunch-snap of the upper bone breaking as Fern destroys his wing would be sickening except for the fact that this male was trying to rape our bride.
Arch grabs him violently, pulling him upward, jerking his head sideways to the satisfying snap of his neck.
The heavy sound as his body hits the floor seems to break Ben and I out of whatever is holding us locked in place.
I head for the larger of the two males, an alpha based on his scent, with a purple tint to his skin and definitely not one who I’ve ever known to live on our land. I pull my blade and spin, slitting his throat on the pass, and turn to help Ben with the third.
We dispatch him easily enough and turn to see Archibald still standing over Fern. She’s lying on the ground where she was when Arch lifted the male off her. I, off-handedly, notice his body is lying awkwardly to the side, his dick hanging out of his pants. I grimace.
Our bride has tugged her makeshift skirt to cover her legs but otherwise hasn’t moved. She looks to me, then Ben, and back to Arch, before slowly sitting up and dropping the fire poker with a resounding clang.
Her little body starts to shiver just as she swallows hard. She tucks one arm around herself.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
Arch’s face is thunderous but he steps forward and scoops her up carefully, tucking her into his body. I see her head settle onto his chest and he drops his face forward, burying his nose in her hair and inhaling deeply. He strides out the door.
“Home, chime. Now.”
WE LAND ON THE BALCONY just before Arch. Ben hurries to the cabinet for the med kit as I go to get a glass of juice. She’s surely hungry and thirsty.
On the flight home, I had replayed her violent attack of the alpha who was going to harm her. I was shocked. Shocked and proud as stones. My mind goes back to the two dead young gargoyles. Perhaps she had defended herself there too, not killed from hate.
Arch lands and strides into the house. Without a word, he tumbles Fern out of his arms roughly. She falls to the floor with a heavy thud, her skirt coming mostly unwrapped. She stays still, silently looking up .
“What the fuck were you thinking?” Arch’s voice is a low growl.
My wings fan back instinctively, dropping low. Arch is ragingly pissed. I notice Ben has a similar submissive stance. Neither of us move.
I watch our little bride’s throat work down a swallow.
“Speak, woman!” Arch roars. Ben and I exchange a glance.
She’s leaning back on her arms, knees bent, trying to keep herself from being totally exposed, but at Arch’s yell, fire flares in those honey eyes of hers.
“I was thinking that I didn’t want to be a brood mare.
I was thinking that if I could escape, I would not be forced to be naked, pliant, punished.
I was thinking that my freedom was worth the risk to my life!
I’d have rather died back there in that dirty house, fighting, on my own godsdamn feet, than be in your cushy bed on my back! ”
She pants, her face red and angry, but stays still on the floor. She doesn’t break eye contact with Arch though. That alone takes balls.
Godsdamn, the courage of my little mate, to have weighed her options so and chosen the unknown. A warrior, I realize, my center is a warrior. My eyes flick between my leader and my human bride, who may some day bear our young.
Archibald, however, seems to have lost his mind, I decide, as I see his hand fall to the laces on his breeches.
“You must be punished for your actions,” he growls, pulling at his pants.
“No,” Ben and I both say at the same time.
Arch’s disbelieving eyes take us both in, his mouth open for a moment before it snaps shut and his teeth clench.
HIs face is flat, gaze foggy. His alpha hormones have taken over, I realize.
Leaders of chimes bear more responsibility, and have a tendency to repress, making it all the worst when they become overloaded.
“No, the two of you will not naysay me in this. A runaway must be punished.” Arch’s eyebrows are drawn angrily and Ben and I still stand with our wings low, though we’ve both stepped towards him.
“That’s true,” Ben says quietly, “But lock her in the closet and we can discuss her consequences. Nothing needs doled out now.”
I nod. “Let us see to her. And it’s obvious you’re upset and need release. Ben and I will give it to you while she rests. Then we can decide upon her punishment together.”
Arch’s jaw clenches again and I see something flash in his eyes. Hurt. Betrayal. He looks as if he would refuse us, and terror hits me.
No, he cannot, not now. I cannot allow it. If he doesn’t listen to us, I’ll challenge him rather than let him push himself onto Fern right now.
A challenge from me would... break us, no matter the outcome. If he won, he’d ruin us with his actions against Fern. If I won, he would surely end his life. And I do not think Ben, nor I, could handle that.
Alphas within a chime cannot fight like animals.
But I can not stand by and watch that happen; not after what I saw in that cabin.
Shit, I think, I would not have allowed it even when we first landed, her terrified and unwilling.
No, we’ve never been alphas who forced our lovers.
Arch would not have done it, nor I allowed it; but he is clearly not in his right mind.
Thank stones, his hand drops away from his pants and he turns towards his room, shoulders slumping. “Feed her, heal her, toss her in the closet. And attend.”
Thank the Night Goddess.