Chapter 27
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
I tapped my fingers against my thigh as pine trees whizzed by in a picturesque blur and soft rock music played from the speakers. The Jeep’s warm, buttery leather seats cradled my form, but I could barely sit still.
“Tate, relax. We’ll get there.” Saint rested his hand on my shoulder and eased me back into the seat. “Everything will be fine.”
“I’m just anxious.” I chewed on my bottom lip. “Do you think it’s because Fane is in a different realm? We haven’t been separated that long, so it shouldn’t be this intense.”
Saint rubbed his jaw as he contemplated my words. “It’s possible. But being with me should ease it a little.”
“What do you mean?”
He gave a noncommittal shrug. “Since we’re still fated mates and haven’t rejected the bond, my presence should alleviate some of your stress. Or, at the very least, it should distract you.”
I gave a humorless laugh. “I don’t think it’s working.”
Saint grabbed my hand, weaving our fingers together. “What about now?”
My whole body tensed at his touch, not because it felt bad but because it wasn’t Fane. “Not helping,” I muttered, pulling my hand out of his and crossing my arms.
He gripped the steering wheel. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
Heat bloomed in my cheeks, and I wanted to crawl under the seat. “It’s just… I feel guilty if I hold your hand. It’s too romantic or something.”
“You and Fane do a lot of hand-holding?”
I scoffed. “Not really. We do a lot more annoying each other.”
“Sweet and romantic is definitely not your love language.” He gave a crooked grin. “And that’s okay. Everyone’s different.”
“Fane can be sweet.” I realized I was tapping my thighs again, so I pressed my palms into them. “I just prefer spice over sugar.”
Saint’s deep, smooth laughter filled the car. “You have a high tolerance for spicy food, especially for a shifter. Our taste buds are usually sensitive.”
“My craving for it developed when I was a kid and was fed bland, tasteless crap in foster homes.” At one point, I wasn’t even sure there was a flavor difference between canned green beans and corn. “If I added hot sauce or crushed pepper flakes, I could at least taste something .”
Saint’s silvery eyes drilled into me, and I sensed the sympathy pulsating from him. “Your childhood wasn’t the greatest.”
I shook my head and fiddled with a hole in my jeans at the kneecap. “Not really.”
“Do you know what happened to your real parents?”
A flood of anger rushed through my veins, and the words burst out of my mouth before I could stop them. “My father killed my mother.”
If I wasn’t careful, I’d spill all my secrets to Saint.
“I’m sorry.” He turned back to the road, his brow furrowed and fingers gripping the steering wheel.
There was no way he could put two and two together and figure out I was Barric’s daughter. The whole world believed he’d had a son who died, and they all thought I was a bitten shifter.
After a few moments of awkward silence, Saint cleared his throat. “I still can’t believe Barric was that bold to sneak into Mohan Wilds and abduct you.” The tiny muscles in his face twitched as he clenched his jaw. “Could the amulet affect his mind?”
A laugh slipped out. “A hundred percent. You don’t even want to know how dark and twisted I got with that thing inside of me.”
“You seemed pretty normal to me.” He shrugged, the winter sun hitting the ring on his index finger. “I didn’t sense any sinister or threatening intentions.”
“You weren’t around me when it was in control.” I’d created a riot in Heldrok, for shit’s sake. I’d also toyed with a whole party of demons on Venna’s request, feasting on their fears and sucking down their life forces.
A shiver raked over my spine as those memories and the delicious sensations I’d felt bubbled forward. That amulet had turned me into an addict in more ways than one.
“I’m glad it’s out of you,” Saint said, yanking me from the ominous memories.
“Me too.” I rubbed my thighs and started tapping them again. “How much longer?”
Saint gave a wry smile. “It’s going to be a while.” He jerked his head toward the back seat. “I brought a pillow and blanket. Why don’t you get some rest?”
“I don’t think I can sleep right now. Too anxious.”
“If you let me, I can help with that.” Saint brushed ebony locks out of his face. “Since you and Fane are mates, he could probably use your help during the spell. It’s best if you’re rested.”
Of course Saint said the one thing that would make me relent. “I’ll try.” My lips puckered as I studied him. “How exactly are you going to help me? I don’t have to do something weird like snuggle your hand like a stuffed animal while I sleep, do I?”
Saint chuckled softly. “I can just rest my hand on your arm. Skin-to-skin contact should do the trick. It doesn’t have to be some romantic gesture.” He shrugged. “Think of it medically.”
I needed to be as strong for Fane as I could. If this spell didn’t work…
It had to. There was no other outcome.
When I grabbed the blanket and pillow from the back, Saint’s masculine pine scent clouded around me. Did he purposely take them from his bed so I’d smell him while I slept? Was this his way of attempting to strengthen the bond and?—
I shut off the paranoid thoughts and positioned the pillow against the cool window. “If I start doing something embarrassing like snoring or talking in my sleep, you better wake me up.”
“I will.” Saint’s hand slipped under the blanket and rested on my forearm, where I’d pulled my sleeve up for him. “You don’t have to worry, Tate.”
My head angled toward him. “Worry about what?” I was always worried about something.
“Me doing this,” he gently squeezed my arm. “Spending time together won’t strengthen our fated mate bond.”
“It won’t?” Everyone kept telling me that, but I wasn’t sure I believed them.
He shook his head and tried to hide the streak of sadness in his gaze. “It doesn’t work like that. The bond is already there. We can’t change that. If we actually mated and claimed each other, that would certainly deepen it and give roots to it, but that’s not going to happen.”
Damn right it wasn’t.
“The only thing that might come from this is a friendship between you and me.”
“We can be friends.” The moment the words dropped from my mouth, I wanted to shove them back in. Saint and I couldn’t really be friends. Once we rejected the bond, he wouldn’t want to see me. Hell, seeing me now, knowing I loved someone else, was probably torture for him.
Plus, Fane wouldn’t be too happy with us being friends. I’d have a meltdown if he and Marissa were.
“I’m sure everything will be better once Fane removes this spell and we reject our mate bond.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Now I’m free to choose a mate without worrying about suddenly discovering my fated.”
“Maybe we should hold a contest. You could be like the bachelor.” I laughed at his scowl. “You won’t have a problem getting women to vie for your attention. Nightworld’s hottest alpha.”
“So you think I’m hot?”
I scoffed. “Anyone with eyes can tell you’re hot, Saint.”
“I might consider it.” He winked. “Only if you help pick the candidates. I trust your judgment.”
“Sadie would fight tooth and claw to win that contest.” I yawned.
Saint cocked his head as his lips pursed. “Sadie Montana? Nah, we’ve been friends forever.”
“You can’t seriously be that dumb, Saint. She’s totally in love with you.”
His mouth parted as he stared at the road ahead of us. “I never really entertained the idea of mating with anyone in case I found my fated.” He drummed the steering wheel. “Sadie is sweet. And pretty.”
A tiny, minuscule twinge of jealousy coiled in my gut, but I shoved it away before it fully manifested.
A line of cold sweat dribbled down my nape as I clenched my fists so tight my knuckles turned white. Illyria’s beautiful scenery of vibrant trees and emerald-green fields whizzing by the train’s window did nothing to calm the anxiety rushing through my veins.
But it wasn’t all because of Fane or any magic the witches were performing on him.
I fidgeted in the leather seat again, the walls closing in. The passengers around us casually chatted, oblivious to the storm raging within me. Some had given Saint and me curious glances when we boarded the eastbound train about an hour ago. They didn’t get many shifters in Illyria.
“Is there anything I can do?” Saint leaned over and asked, chewing on his bottom lip.
Unlike everyone else, he sensed the turmoil in me. Hell, he could probably smell the sweat beading on my skin.
I shook my head.
“You’ll see Fane soon,” he said, dragging his fingertips over the back of my hand. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
After peeking in on my mate a few times, I realized he was at the Maleor Suprema coven house in the center of the city. Since the witch realm didn’t have cars, we had to take a train.
“It’s not Fane,” I blurted.
Damn it.
Why did I feel the need to spill my secrets to this man?
Saint’s brow furrowed as he studied me and then the nearby passengers as if they might be the cause for my tense behavior.
“What’s going on, Tate?” His nostrils flared while a luminescent sheen began to lighten those hypnotic gray orbs. “Is someone doing something to you? Tell me, and I’ll?—”
I groaned and rubbed the center of my forehead. “I kind of have this fear of small spaces.”
The urge to confess why—that my foster mother used to tie me to a pipe and lock me in her closet for days—burned through me. My mouth even opened, the words dangling on the tip of my tongue, but I snapped my teeth together.
Saint scrutinized the train car again, his lips pursing. The train wasn’t actually that cramped. We weren’t stuffed inside like a bunch of sardines, and I’d taken the aisle seat. The leather cushions were nice and comfy, and the shiny mahogany and gold décor was spotless.
Still, I couldn’t stop the sensation of everything falling in on me. The separation anxiety twisting around me probably exacerbated my fear. I wouldn’t react this badly with Fane here.
“I’ll be right back.” Saint stood, peering down at me while worry lines developed across his face. “Will you be okay for a few minutes?”
I gave a dry laugh and waved a shaky hand. “I’m a big girl. I can sit all by myself.”
“Sorry. It’s the alpha in me.” He smiled and then strolled down the aisle.
Eyes suddenly burned a hole in my head, and I flinched when a little witch girl stared at me as she perched backward in the seat in front of mine. She couldn’t have been more than seven, with violet hair and honey-brown eyes that reminded me of Hawk’s.
“Is that your boyfriend? Or I think shifters call them mates.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder in Saint’s direction as he vanished into another car, the door sliding closed behind him.
“No.” I rubbed my sweaty palms on my jeans.
She frowned. “Why not? He’s so pretty.”
I snorted. “He is very pretty, but we’re just friends.”
“Amelia, leave her alone.” The woman—probably her mother—turned toward me, sharing the same purple hair. “I’m so sorry if she’s bothering you. She’ll talk your ear off if you let her.”
So would Jayla.
“I don’t mind.” I normally kept to myself, but the kid did a good job of distracting me from my claustrophobia. “She reminds me of someone.”
The witch nodded and returned to her phone, tapping away on it while the little girl grinned.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” She rested her chin on the top of the leather seat, patiently awaiting my response. The setting sun highlighted silver strands that laced through the purple.
Amelia wasn’t going to let up. In her defense, it would be hard to top Saint Grimstone.
“I have a mate.”
I slipped my phone out of my pocket and pulled up a picture of Fane I took while he stood shirtless in front of an easel in his art studio. His midnight hair was a mess as if he’d been running his fingers through the locks, and a few splotches of paint splattered his bronzed, tattooed skin.
Amelia leaned forward as I showed her the image of Fane, and her little mouth dropped. “Wow,” she whispered, her eyes glazing over. “He’s magnificent.”
This got her mother’s attention, and her head swiveled over her shoulder again to see my phone. She gasped and rested her hand on her chest. “Magnificent is a perfect word for that creature.”
A proud smile crossed my face. “He’s definitely something.”
The door at the end of the car slid open, and Saint emerged with a paper bag in one hand and a bottle of something pink and fizzy in the other.
Amelia grinned as she watched him walk this way. “Since he’s not yours, I can have him?”
“Amelia,” her mother admonished.
The little girl just shrugged. “He’s too pretty to be alone. I’d like to marry him. I don’t care that he’s a wolf shifter.”
My throat tightened as her words sank in. Saint was too sweet and kindhearted to be alone. He deserved a mate that would love him unconditionally.
At least one that was freaking available.
Saint took his seat, pulled down the table, and set the objects down. “The witch’s brew will help with the nerves, and then I thought you might like some cookies. I had them sprinkle cayenne pepper on them.”
Too damn sweet.
“Thanks,” I whispered, afraid my voice would crack if I spoke any louder. “I’m feeling a little better.”
He absentmindedly stroked my arm, his touches becoming more comforting. “I’m glad.” He glanced at Amelia, who was gazing at him like a lovestruck fan. “Hello there.”
She fell into a fit of giggles. “I’m Amelia. Will you marry me?”
Her mother gasped, red spilling into her cheeks. “Amelia, you are too much.”
But when Saint unleashed a full smile, both mother and daughter swooned. Actually, nearly every witch in the car did too.
Could you blame them?
Saint leaned toward the girl. “You might be a little young for me, but if you’re ever on Earth, you’re more than welcome to visit the Blackwater Falls pack as my special guest.” He winked. “I’m Alpha Saint.”
Amelia’s cheeks bunched up as she gave the biggest smile. “I can’t wait!”
Her mother shook her head but mouthed a Thank you to Saint for being so kind. “That’s very nice of you, Alpha Saint.” She nudged her daughter. “What do you say?”
“Thank you, Mr. Alpha Saint.”
When her mother finally got Amelia to turn back around, I chuckled. “Mr. Alpha Saint. I might have to start calling you that.”
He shrugged and opened the bottle for me. “You can call me anything you want, but I don’t think Fane would like some of the nicknames I have in mind.”
From the mischievous wiggle of Saint’s eyebrows, Fane would definitely protest the terms he was thinking up.
After another stop, Amelia and her mom got off, and we continued our long ride to the center of the city. The walls had stopped closing in, and I started to relax.
Until intense pain unfurled inside me.
Fireworks erupted in my abdomen as we stepped off the train in the center of Illyria’s metropolis, and I hunched over, gasping.
“Tate, what’s wrong?” Saint helped me toward a bench to clear the door for other passengers.
I inhaled a ragged breath. “It’s the spell. It’s causing Fane pain.”
Saint’s lips thinned. “It’ll only get worse. He should be blocking you.”
“He should be focused on the spell instead of wasting energy on trying to protect me.” I pushed out of his hold and stood on shaky legs. “I can take it. I’m not some fragile flower.”
“No one said you were.” He placed his hand on my back and guided me toward the train station’s door. The glass panels slid open, the fragrant air ruffling my hair and infiltrating my nose. “It’s just hard watching you endure this when I can’t do anything to help.”
“Maleor Suprema’s coven house isn’t too far from here,” I said, choking back a groan.
Charming shops and apartments lined both sides of the cobblestone streets, and a few roads turned off, leading to quaint homes. Lavender and herbs scented the air, and the luminescent stars in a rainbow of colors lit up the dark sky.
Illyria was a stunning realm, so full of magic it made my skin tingle.
Another sharp blast hit me, and I cried out. My surroundings blurred as my consciousness lifted from my body. The shops and cobblestone road vanished, and I stood in a large room as chants filled the air.
A shirtless and trembling Fane kneeled in the center, pain carving shadows in his features.