Chapter 33
All Mine
ELLIOT
“Iris!”
My voice cracks through the empty grove like a whip, the sound immediately followed by a desperate howl.
It rips through my chest without warning, and I realize as I fall to my knees beside her that my wolf is weeping.
She’s cold already, her usual fire burning quickly, as she lies limp and covered in the odd black bands that mark Covington’s victims.
“Kitty! What is this?” I shout. “What’s happening?”
“I don’t know,” she says, tears near to spilling over.
“It’s killing her!”
“I think her body is rejecting it, like last time,” Elsie says softly. “But I don’t know why.”
We all turn to look at her. She is still burning a bright white behind the eyes. But her power is slowly coming down.
It’s because she’s mine. Truly mine. My fated mate.
Even as the words cross my mind, I know how foolish they sound.
But I can’t help but cling to it. In all my life, there is nothing I’ve ever been more sure of.
Iris is mine. Her body knows it, her spirit knows it.
That’s why she’s rejecting it. That’s why it never worked.
But whatever changes Covington’s made have strengthened the solution.
And Iris body is working to rid itself of his claim.
I press my forehead down to hers, sparking what little connection we have.
“Come on, baby, don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me here alone.”
She’s looking at me, but I don’t think she can see me. Her dark almond eyes are faded, a soft pink haze over her irises. And there’s no recognition on her face as I look at her. But I know she’s in there somewhere. I can feel it.
“Iris…”
Her name is all that seeps out as I hold her.
But my pleading quickly turns to anger as her body starts to stiffen.
“Damien!” I shout, clinging to her limp form. “Damien, do something! You have to do something! Please!”
He’s on his knees beside me, and his hand rests gently on my shoulder, consoling me when he should be acting.
“No!” I snap, shaking him off. “There has to be something. Anything! Elsie?”
I turn for her, but she’s already hanging her head, her white eyes filled with tears.
“I don’t—” Her voice breaks as they start to spill over. “I don’t know what to do.”
“What do you mean you don’t know what to do?”
I realize I am yelling at her, but I’m not entirely sure how to stop.
“There must be some magic to counteract it!” I demand.
But Elsie is still crying, and even before she answers, I know my words amount to nothing.
If there were something to be done, she would have done it by now. That much I’m sure of.
“Love potions aren’t magic,” she says, hugging herself. “They’re poisons. She needs a healer.”
“A powerful one,” Kitty adds.
Her shift has died down, and she stands, curled into Dred’s side, shaking from the force of her wolf. He holds her close, rubbing her arms to soothe her. But I don’t think it’s working.
As I look at them all, broken and beaten, I can’t help but feel guilty.
They don’t deserve this. None of this is their fault. Not Dame’s or Kitty’s or Dred’s, or even Covington. This is my fault.
I failed her. Because I couldn’t do the one thing that would have protected her from this. The one thing that would have ensured her safety.
If we were mated, not just claimed, but truly mated, bound by fate, nothing could ever stand between us. No magic, no potion, certainly no man. But I can only give her words. Not my heart.
“I can give her my blood,” Dred offers. “She’d be bound to me, but—”
“No,” I say, quieter now.
“Elliot,” Dame scolds me, gripping my shoulder and forcing me to look at him. “Let him! Would you rather she be gone?”
Iris would probably prefer death over a lifetime tied to Dred. But it doesn’t matter. She’s mine. I’m the one who put us in this mess. I’m the one who will get us out of it.
“I can fix it,” I say.
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Dame shouts. “There’s nothing you can do. Just let him—”
“Yes, there is,” I mutter, laying Iris down in the dirt. “You can sever me.”
“What?” Dame and Kitty both blurt in unison.
“No,” Dame declares. “I won’t do it. You’ve lost your mind.”
“She’s mine,” I say. “I know she is. Sever me from the pack and sever me from the family. The bond will form without the curse tying me down.”
“Elliot…”
Kitty’s voice is soft, pitying, and I know what she’s thinking.
She thinks I’m foolish, clinging to a hopeless idea of who I could be. They both do. But they don’t know. They don’t understand that I want to love her more than I want a pack. More than I want to live.
What other reason could there be for such pain?
“She’s mine,” I repeat. “I can feel it.”
“What if you’re wrong?” Kitty asks, stepping away from Dred to crouch beside me.
“I’m not,” I say. “I know I’m not, but if I am, Dred can feed her, and she can hate me for it. Simple.”
“Nothing about losing you is simple,” Dame mutters.
His blue eyes are bright with pain as he stares at me, desperate to change my mind. But I won’t. It was made up the moment those three words left her mouth. It was only a matter of time.
“You would do the same,” I say, bowing my head so our foreheads meet. “If you knew how much it hurts.”
Our bond sings, and Dame wipes a fist under his eyes as he grips the back of my neck.
“If you’re wrong, I’ll kill you,” he says.
“Deal.”
Kitty grips my hand, resting her head on my shoulder as she hums for me one last time.
Her voice lifts, slow and smooth, and I’m grateful for the distraction as Dame starts to weed through the bonds.
It starts in my stomach, the burning sting of threads snapping. Like cutting piano chords, every severed note echoes in my mind, growing louder as Dame moves through them. One after another after another. Slowly at first, then more urgently as I bear down in pain.
Each cut is agonizing. A hot blade sawing through tendon and cauterizing the ends, never to be renewed. But I’ve felt worse every time I see Iris clinging to a hope that isn’t there. And at least this pain has a purpose.
Dame saves our thread for last. It was always the strongest among them, and I wince as his power bears down on it.
I know he feels it the same as I do when he groans, a guttural sound deep in his chest. There are tears on his face as I pry my eyes open, but with a nod, he strikes through it, tearing us apart, fracturing my soul.
For a while, there is nothing. And we all sit with bated breath as we wait.
The more time ticks by, the more agitated they become. But I’m not worried.
Kitty clings tighter, and her voice quiets as she holds me, but the pain is slowly replaced by a single golden thread.
Someone gasps, and my eyes fly open.
“Iris?”
Her face is twisted with pain as she blinks, but she’s breathing, and she’s looking at me. And that’s enough.
I run my hands over her face, clearing the blood from her brow and pushing her hair out of her eyes, watching as the black bands begin to fade and Covington’s power over her is dissolved, replaced by the bond of my wolf.
“Hi, baby…”
She winces, bleary-eyed, as she struggles to sit up.
“Don’t,” I say. “Don’t move. I’ve got you.”
“W-what happened?”
Her voice is hoarse, and the wolf rises as if called upon by name.
Protect.
“It doesn’t matter. You feel okay?”
She nods.
“Weird…” she croaks.
“Weird how?”
“Like…”
She swallows hard, gathering her voice to get the words out, but it takes her a moment to find them.
I’m not sure I have the words to describe it either. But if I had to, I’d say it feels like my heart is beating for the very first time.
“Like I can breathe again,” she says finally.
I nod in understanding, and my throat burns as a lump forms, and her fingers sweep under my eyes, coming away wet.
“Elliot,” she whispers. “You’re crying.”
“Yeah, princess….”
“For me?” she asks.
Her question brings a smile to my face, but it only makes the tears flow harder.
I wonder how many times I would have cried for her, had I not been cursed. I imagine it must’ve been a lot for it to all come rushing out in an endless stream.
“Only for you,” I mutter, pressing my head to hers.
Her breath catches as the magic ignites, rushing back and forth between us.
She throws her arms around my neck, and I cradle her to my chest.
“Iris.”
Her name leaves my mouth choked and coated with tears, but it’s nothing compared to the swelling in my chest.
Every glance, every touch, every beat of my heart is now hers, and it culminates in three simple words.
“I love you.”
* * *
“That’s the third time this week,” I say as Dame comes to stand beside me.
“Yep,” Dame grumbles.
We watch the inquisitors retreating through the den until their scent no longer lingers in the air.
“What’d they want?”
“Not a damn thing,” Dame says, shaking his head. “Probably just hoping to find more pieces of Covington.”
“Good luck with that,” I say, laughing.
There was nothing they could do about Covington’s missing head.
When we told them Covington had issued a challenge, with five witnesses to corroborate our story, it became a Crescent council matter, open and shut.
One the council would never look into. So long as the rules were laid, they took a rather hands-off approach.
Otherwise, every sore loser would file for sanctions every time they got their ass handed to them.
But after listening to Covington’s confession live, the inquisition had no choice but to drop the case for Deacon. And with all his talk of “punishing” Grey, they assumed that he’d been responsible. We weren’t about to correct them. But that also leaves them with few excuses for harassing us.
I’m almost positive I’m the real reason they keep dropping by.
I haven’t worn my dampener since that night, and they’re either nervous I might go on a wild rampage or pissed that their bets fell through. Whatever the reason, I doubt we’ve seen the last of them.