Chapter Six
Ronen banged on the door of the lair, shouting for Levon, the Miami Sentinel, to let him in right fucking now. He’d shifted back to his human form, but Tanner still felt impossibly light in his arms. The door flew open, Levon’s eyes going wide as he took in the sight of Tanner’s limp body.
“Get out of my way,” Ronen snarled, pushing past Levon and rushing inside. His heart thundered as he cradled Tanner closer. The tremors had stopped, but Tanner’s breathing remained shallow, his skin clammy and pale.
“What the hell happened?” Levon asked, slamming the door shut behind them and resetting the locks.
“Some sort of demonic magic. I think whatever they’ve done to cloak the mate bond is fighting back. Or maybe they simply want to eliminate him from afar. I-I don’t know.” He could barely catch his breath. “Where’s the healing room?”
Levon’s eyes went wide. “Mate bond? Holy shit.” He pointed toward the eastern corridor. “Third door on the right.”
Ronen gave him a quick nod. “Thanks. Be ready. Cassiel and the others should be here any moment.”
The stone walls blurred as Ronen raced through the corridors, his heart thundering. The shallow rise and fall of his mate's breathing was growing weaker with each passing second.
Ronen kicked open the door, his gaze frantically scanning the space before he gently laid Tanner on the examination table.
The room wasn’t very different from the others in the lair.
However, dark wood, antique cabinets, and shelves lined the walls, and, in addition to the examining table, an elaborate birthing chair stood in one corner.
A long, rectangular table that could’ve once been used for dining was covered with glass jars containing what Ronen assumed were various herbs.
He also noted that ancient runes had been carved into the ceiling, undoubtedly meant to ward off dark magic.
“Come on, Tanner,” he whispered, brushing sweat-dampened hair from his mate’s forehead. “Fight this. I know you can.”
Tanner’s face was ashen, his lips tinged with blue. Ronen pressed two fingers to Tanner’s neck, relief washing through him when he detected a pulse. Weak and erratic, but there.
“Hang on, sweetheart. Help is coming.”
Cassiel burst in and rushed to Ronen’s side. “Holy…” She clasped Ronen’s shoulder. “It’s okay, bro. Zeke is on his way. It won’t be long.”
“I'm going to kill them,” Ronen growled, his hands shaking as he checked Tanner’s pulse again. The faint flutter beneath his fingertips was the only thing keeping him from shifting and flying straight back to the demon stronghold. “Every last one of those bastards.”
“Save it.” Cassiel moved to the opposite side of the examination table. “Right now, your mate needs you focused.”
Ronen nodded, swallowing hard. She was right. He couldn’t afford to lose himself to rage, not when Tanner’s life hung by a thread. He took his mate’s hand in his, squeezing gently, willing his own strength into the frail body.
“What can I do?” He hated how helpless he felt.
“There should be some basic healing potions in the cabinet, part of our first aid kits.” Cassiel rummaged through one of the cabinets, pulling out a few corked glass bottles.
Various symbols were stamped on old labels of the colorful containers.
Cassiel’s brow furrowed as she examined each one.
“Damn. Should’ve paid better attention in that class we had last month. ”
The sounds of hurried footsteps approached, and Ronen said a silent prayer that Zeke had arrived. When he raised his head, he was met with the sight of Ezekiel charging into the room. He rushed to Tanner’s side.
Without glancing up, he barked out orders, his focus one hundred percent on Tanner.
“Ronen, give us space. I’ve been briefed already.
” He rolled up his sleeves. “Cassiel, give me the green bottle you’re holding.
I’ll also need one of the kyanite slabs in the second drawer of the cabinet.
We need to clear any negative energy from the room.
He’s got more than enough inside him already.
” Ezekiel finally looked up. “Once I stabilize him, I’ll need you both to leave. ”
An eerie familiarity, like a buzz coursing through Ronen’s body, made him shiver. His spirit seemed to recognize a similar scenario to the one he’d endured, one he had very little memory of. Ezekiel had been the one to bring him back from the edge of death after the rogues had tortured him.
“I'm not leaving,” Ronen announced. He kept his hand firmly wrapped around Tanner’s cold fingers, unwilling to break contact even for a moment. “I can’t.”
Ezekiel’s features softened. “I know this is difficult, but the healing ritual requires isolation. The connection between you both is working against him right now.”
“What?” Ronen’s head snapped up. “How is that possible?”
“The demonic cloaking spell is fighting the soul bond.” Ezekiel arranged the crystals around Tanner’s still form. “Your presence is strengthening the mate connection, which is causing the spell to retaliate more aggressively in response.”
Ezekiel’s words were like a gut punch. He was hurting Tanner simply by being near him. The thought was unbearable. Ronen reluctantly released Tanner’s hand, his fingers lingering for a moment before he stepped back.
“Will he survive?” The question stuck in his throat like shards of glass.
Ezekiel’s hands moved methodically, as if they had a mind of their own. “I believe so, but we need to act quickly. The spell is attacking his Nephilim essence, attempting to snuff it out completely.”
“But he doesn’t know—”
“Of course he doesn’t,” Ezekiel snapped, not looking up from his work as he uncorked the green bottle. “However, that doesn’t change what he is. Now, please. Both of you, step outside. I’ll call for you the second I have an update on his condition.”
Cassiel tugged gently at Ronen’s arm. For a moment, he couldn’t move. The idea of leaving Tanner’s side felt like cutting off his own limb. But Ezekiel’s words echoed through his mind. His presence was hurting Tanner, not helping him.
“Ronen,” Cassiel’s voice was gentle but firm. “We need to let Zeke work.”
He nodded numbly and allowed her to guide him from the room. Each step away from Tanner was agony, his body physically resisting the separation. As the door closed behind them, Ronen pressed his palms against the cold stone wall, trying to ground himself.
“He’ll be okay, Ronen.” Cassiel rested her hand on his shoulder. “Zeke’s the man, am I right? He saved you, and I’m not gonna lie, you were wrecked.”
Ronen’s throat tightened. “I know. Only… I just found him, Cassiel.” Tears threatened as he turned to her. “What will I do if I lose him forever?”
Tanner could barely open his eyes, was weak as fuck, and the hungriest he could ever remember being. Bizarre. He’d been unrelentingly nauseous for so long, he’d forgotten what it was like to be ravenous.
His eyes flew open. Wait a minute. Not only was the nausea gone, but so was the fucking bitch of a headache.
“No way,” he whispered.
A gasping snore startled him, and Tanner sat up in what was a very large, very comfy bed filled with fluffy pillows and adorned with a velvety, burgundy red comforter. He rubbed his palms along the sinfully soft fabric.
Wow.
Clearly, he was hallucinating because he’d never slept in such a luxurious place before.
As he took in his surroundings, he mused that the room reminded him of a king’s bedchamber in a medieval castle.
The walls were lavishly decorated with magnificent tapestries depicting battle scenes and grand landscapes, and several ornate cast-iron standing candelabra cast a golden glow.
One of his favorite video games had a similar look.
Another sputtering snore drew his attention, and Tanner spotted Ronen slumped in a chair beside the bed.
The man’s broad shoulders were hunched forward, his chin resting on his chest as he dozed.
Long strands of wild, honey-colored hair fell across Ronen’s face, and Tanner found himself longing to see those intense eyes again—the way they’d locked onto him with such fierce attention.
A strange warmth bloomed in Tanner’s chest at the sight.
Ronen had stayed with him. His memory was fuzzy on the details, but through whatever had happened, this virtual stranger hadn’t abandoned him.
Tears burned in his eyes, and he swallowed past a lump in his throat.
He couldn’t remember the last time someone had cared enough to stay by his side when he was sick.
His roomie back at the dorm would’ve just called campus medical services and gone about his day.
“Ronen?” he called softly, his voice raspier than expected.
Ronen jerked awake, nearly toppling from the chair before his eyes focused on him. The relief that washed over his face was so raw and genuine that Tanner thought he might cry.
“You’re awake,” Ronen breathed, moving to the edge of the bed. “How do you feel?”
“Tired, but so much better. I’m also hungry enough to eat all the fish in the ocean.
” Tanner smiled, his emotions rising, making him feel giddy.
“The best part is the headache is gone. Like it never existed. Same with my nausea. It’s a miracle, for real.
” He glanced around the room again. “But where am I? No way this is a hospital. How did I get better so fast? What was wrong with me in the first place?”
Why do I want to grab you and demand you fuck me into the mattress?
The last thought came out of nowhere, shocking Tanner. His face grew hot, and he ducked his head, pretending to examine the fancy comforter.
Ronen clutched Tanner’s hand. “You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you’re feeling better.
There’s much to tell you, to explain. Right now, you’re completely safe.
I brought you to the local lair because you had a violent seizure.
” Ronen’s breath hitched. “I had no choice, Tanner. I was losing you, and your only hope was for me to get you here to our healer.”