20. Echoes of Betrayal
Echoes of Betrayal
Malcolm
S he wanted him to promise to let her go.
Never.
He’d never let her go. In this big world he’d finally found his mate, a reason to live and strive for a better life.
How could she ask him to let that go?
When he’d been banished six years ago, the world had turned grey, with only the occasional splash of red to keep it interesting. He wanted to be more than just the past to her; he’d already lived a life without her, and it hadn’t been pretty. The idea of giving his body to someone who wasn’t his mate again filled him with disgust.
The fine line between his true nature and the man he wanted to be was being tested once again.
His closet was filled with the skeletons and lies he’d accumulated over the years.
It was a cruelty of fate, to get his hands on what could save him, only to learn that she was thinking already of their end?
Slamming his balled fist against the wall, he gritted his teeth in frustration. The idea of returning to the hell of being no one to anyone once more caused him to bare his teeth as he held back on the violence that swirled in his belly. He wanted to break something and destroy the invisible enemy she swore would break them apart.
Malcolm wasn’t weak.
He’d never been weak; all his life, he’d been treated like a monster. The face of man was nothing more than a mask to keep himself within the reigns of sanity, pretending he’d not lost everything. The minute he’d tasted his first blood beyond the lands of his people, he’d finally understood the things the ancestors had spoken of.
The rush of bestial urges came with the feeling of barely hanging onto life. It made their participation in human wars all the more understandable. The sensation of looking into an enemy’s eyes and watching the life in them leech from their face was an addictive high.
He’d tried being good.
He was trying to be the man she needed, but how much longer could he keep the leash on the monster inside of him? The yawning hole inside was quickly growing wider; the madness most male werewolves felt if they waited too long for the claim mate stirred inside him. He needed to convince her to stay with him, no matter what.
He didn’t care about the others.
Robert wanted him to be the pack Alpha. He would do his duty, but he would drop everything if Eliza insisted on leaving.
The door cracked open; he stiffened. Glancing at the entrance, he lowered his arm and stood straight.
“I wasn’t sure I’d find you here,” Robert said as he entered the office. “Kirkle has asked if he could be loaned a few men to help in the burying his son.”
“Yes,” Malcolm said quickly; he wouldn’t begrudge the man a burial. “Did his son have children or a mate?”
Robert shook his head. “No, the pickings for mates have gotten slimmer and slimmer over the years. A few women have left these lands for the human world to build lives outside of the pack.”
“Is that so?” Malcolm said as he turned to face him. “I thought they weren’t allowed to leave before their first run. When did the law change?”
Robert gathered his hands together. “After you killed Damon, many female wolves felt the males had too much control over their lives. And they sought change; for some, that meant raising their children in the human world. They return for the Ice Moon, Ceilidh, and Blood Moon, but some refuse to return even for them. They fear being trapped here.”
“When they come for the Ceilidh, I will speak with them. This is their home. We will not trap them here. If they wish to visit, they may whenever their lives allow for it.”
Robert acknowledged his command with a little dip of his chin. “It will be done, and for the Ceilidh, you will need to select the men who will accompany you, and you’ll have to bring along your mate.”
“What,” Malcolm asked startled.
Robert pursed his lips, “When Ceilidh happens, all pack Alphas bring their mates to show trust. It’s common; you will see it once we reach the border.”
“No, I won’t bring her,” Malcolm interrupted.
Robert sighed. “You can’t keep hiding her; it is obvious to us all she is your mate. You might not have marked her yet, but the other McLaren can smell you on her. It will be noticed if you don’t bring her.”
“She doesn’t have anything to do with our peoples politics,” Malcolm argued.
“Then you have no intention of claiming her,” Robert challenged. “If you plan to claim her, even if it’s down the road. It would be a gross mistake for you not to bring her with you. The others will know if you do not, especially if you refuse to be served during Ceilidh.”
Malcolm wanted to yell at Robert to leave, he didn’t want to bring Eliza anywhere past the border of his own land. He needed to keep her hidden away and safe. Though he was sure there wasn’t anyone who could recognize her, he didn’t wish to risk it. Plus, with Cladagh's atmosphere, he didn’t want to force her into anything.
“You cannot protect her forever.” His uncle's voice was heavy with something that forced him to look at him. The wealth of sadness in his uncle's eyes hit him. “You can try everything. And still, a day will come when you fail to protect her.”
Malcolm felt his anger chill; his uncle was thinking of his past. “Uncle?—”
Robert waved him off. “No, I don’t need your coddling.”
Malcolm nodded. “Fine. I will ask her if she wishes to come, but that is all I will do. I cannot force her to come if she doesn’t want to.”
“That’s all I ask you to do,” his uncle said before exiting the office.
Malcolm, left alone with his thoughts, needed to decide soon what he would do with her. No, he needed to determine when he would tell her the truth about their connection.
Eliza
Eliza walked around inside of the compound wall. Needing some air, after stewing in her cabin. Luckily, the night wasn’t freezing. Pulling on a jacket, she headed out as soon as she could. Everything felt so twisted.
She allowed herself to think about her lone battle to get revenge and her somewhat sloppy handling of the situation. Her attempts at manipulation were shoddy at best. With a sigh she kicked another stone out of her way, her shoes crunching along the gravel as she walked. The noise becomeomg its own sort of music.
“You—”
She whipped around, a long black line of light in her hands pointed at the throat of the person behind her.
She glared at the stranger standing behind her. His eyes were iron-colored, and he grasped the edge of her weapon.
“You’re one of those guys I saw watching me,” she accused.
He looked from the weapon he held to her face. “You are as powerful as he said.” He didn’t release the weapon but turned it back and forth.
“We’ve been searching for you, the woman with the gift to open that which has been locked for far longer than our world has been behind the Veil.”
She jerked her weapon back and held it to her side. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but if you’re with those fuckers who did this to me. You can either leave here with your head intact or have me remove it.”
With a sharp laugh, his form blurred, and suddenly, he disappeared. Eliza tensed only to feel a hand land on her shoulder from behind. Freezing at his sudden touch, she felt him brush her hair from her neck with a click of his tongue.
She couldn’t believe how fast he’d moved. For a while now, she hadn’t felt venerable, but the minute he’d moved, she understood their levels of strength were completely different. She inhaled slowly, trying to keep her panic down. She wasn’t going to let him do what he wanted.
“Let go.” She jerked away from him. She whipped around, bringing her self-made sword up once more. “What do you want?”
He grinned, revealing iron teeth. “What I want is what his lordship wants but also what he doesn’t want. My brother and I are searching for the witch who can be the key home.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “I don’t know what witch you’re looking for because I can tell you right now I am not this key.”
“Your power smells the same as hers,” someone said behind her.
Eliza spun around, her fear growing as another of these beings appeared behind her. “Lyon is not good with words. We know she is close, but like a butterfly, she flits from our focus. You and your magic, while tainted, smell similar. The numb witch's blood is your blood.”
Eliza couldn’t understand what they were saying. They were looking for a numb witch. But those witches had been wiped out a long time ago. The council had ensured they’d become extinct, and while she didn’t know the full story of their destruction. The shade never held back in detailing the tragic kidnapping and murder of their sisters. No witch trusted the council, especially as they were known for their ruthless behavior and their nasty habit of enslaving all other races who weren’t their own. They had held so many beings in their thrall that it hadn’t been hard to stir beings of different lores to gather and fight.
However, one couldn’t say if that was a good thing or bad thing now as many beings had faced prejudice, and the warlock families, who’d barely helped, had gained great benefits because of their connection with the human world.
She didn’t lower her makeshift sword, “You’re wrong. All numb witches have been killed. Their bloodline ended years ago. Whatever you smell on me is wrong.”
The one who’d spoken looked from her to the male behind her, whom she assumed was Lyon. “She doesn’t know.”
The male nodded with a low snicker. “It’s fascinating that witches cannot smell it; it’s so thick.” He sniffed only to tense; he whipped his head around, eyes narrowing on the sky. “He is here.”
For some reason, she no longer felt threatened by the two males before her, “Who is here?”
Lyon ignored her. “He was sent to sew chaos in these lands, but he has been taking longer out of his desire to have amusement.” Finally, he faced her. “He carries a heavy scent of blood; he enjoys the killing of those weaker than him. Jion, we must leave here now.”
Jion walked around her to Lyon’s side. “We will return to see if you finally see what it is inside you,” he said, stopping beside his brother. “Then we will retrieve the key.”
“What?!”
They disappeared, and she stood there more confused and scared than before.
She hadn’t thought she could be found so quickly, but it appears she had underestimated the abilities of the enemy. It was arrogance to think she could hide from a world where witches, who put a stopper in death and brew a bottle of life; were the weakest of the Beings.
Evaporating her sword, she brushed the same hand through her hair in frustration. She needed to get what she’d come for and return to Veil City. Turning around, she headed back towards the castle. After she caught up on some sleep, tomorrow she’d go back to the woods and search for a book that should give form to the goddess inside her. Then, she could allow the goddess to function outside of her.
For now she would wait for the location spell to return to her. Then she’d retrieve the book that allowed the evil bastards to experiment on her. She would kill those who’d done this to her and the others.
Mildly she wondered to herself if she’d return to her original self after all this. Just as she entered and waved to the few people congregating in the main hall, she spotted Malcolm standing in the doorway to the hall. His arms were crossed, and his eyes squinted in thought.
When he spotted her, they lit up before they darkened again.
She sighed; she shouldn’t have asked him for that stupid promise. She was annoyed with herself now, more than ever.
She could only face him; there was nowhere for her to run. She hadn’t thought it would be so awkward between them after what she’d said. Next time, she would feel the situation out a little bit more before she got swept away with her feelings.
Then again, she’d be leaving either way. That wasn’t a lie, one day she would disappear, and he needed to know that she was okay.
Releasing another sigh, she walked towards him, “Were you looking for me?”
Malcolm gave a short nod, but didn’t say anything.
She, herself; couldn’t look him in the eyes. She wanted to blame her words before on her overthinking, but that wouldn’t be the truth and she lied enough. Something about the air around him had changed since he’d taken the mantel of Laird. He said it wouldn’t change anything, but she could see it even if he didn’t.
He stood straighter, as if something had finally fit into place hardening him from inside out. It wasn’t bad. Just different.
It made her palms sweat and her back tingle. As if, at any minute, the face of their relationship could change.
“Look at me, Eliza,” she slowly lifted her gaze and met his soft one. “There, you should never be afraid to meet my gaze.”
Flinching, she quickly scoffed. “I’m not afraid.”
And she surprised herself with how true that was, she wasn’t afraid of him. He’d never given her reason to be.
He appeared to weigh her words before he nodded. “Good; in three days, I'll be heading to the Ceilidh, and despite our disagreement from earlier, I wish to know if you want to come?” His lashes lowered it wasn’t fair for a man to have such thick lashes.
“The Ceilidh, you will be meeting the other packs Alphas?”
“Yes, I’ll also be talking about the disappearing youths. If someone is kidnapping them for labor, then we can’t be the only ones being attacked.”
“Attacked?” Eliza said, once again felt worried. “Is it that bad?”
He nodded; his expression grim. “I didn’t share this with you earlier, but this has been going on for far longer than I first thought. Our kind being taken, and disappearing has been a dirty secret of the previous Alphas, but since my uncle took over, he’d kept an eye out and security tight; many of those who’d benefited from the crime were gotten rid of.”
Eliza took in what he said. “So, whoever they are got desperate and kidnapped from the campgrounds.”’
“That’s what it looks like. I am going to broach this subject at the Ceilidh, my hope is that the other Alphas aren’t secretly working with this hidden enemy. If they are, I might have to declare war on them, to bring them to heel.”
“War?” Eliza suddenly felt panic hit her. “Are you serious?”
Seeing her worry, he softened his tone, “Don’t worry, it’s just one of the many possible outcomes, especially if they are the ones who worked with the warlocks to create cracks in the barrier. Someone on our land made a deal with them; unfortunately, the warlocks were put under an identity hinder; they can only remember the ‘what’ not the ‘who.’”
“Either way…” He placed his hands on her shoulders and leaned down. “You do not need to come. These are concerns for my people; you don’t have any reason to be dragged into this mess. We also don’t want anyone to recognize you, it’s not likely but the less people who see you. The fewer people who can point you out to those who may come looking for you.”
“Would you let them take me?” she asked.
“I would die first,” he said with a smile as he removed his hands and straightened. “I would protect you with my last breath.”
“I’ll go,” she said. Was it wise? No. But she wouldn’t let him face their enemies alone, just so that she could remain safe. “I have no intention of sitting this out. I want to see this thing to the end, plus you should take every ally you can get.”
“You’re more than an ally to me, Eliza.”
Lowering her head she purposely avoided the warmth in his eyes. That was something she couldn’t deal with right now. The attraction between them buzzed , and she wanted to reach out and touch him, but something told her the minute she did, she’d be swallowed whole. She glanced up at him, swallowing, “Okay, well, is there anything else?”
He glanced at something behind her before returning his gaze to hers. “Do you mind coming with me for a moment? There is something I need to tell you.” Holding his hand out he waited for her to take it.
Eliza frowned; she didn’t want to be alone with him. She couldn’t trust herself with him; already, she could feel her focus slipping as she thought back to his kisses. Her heart was racing with the memory of them, and she wasn’t sure what she’d do if he kissed her again.
She stared at his hand before slowly placing her hand into his. “Okay.”
Was this a bad choice?
She couldn’t decide.
She’d spent so much of her life taking leaps of faith, and this was the same thing. She was just trusting her instincts, and no matter how warped she became as a person, she was going to continue trusting herself.
At the back of her mind, she couldn’t help thinking back to the two males who’d cornered her outside. Her instincts told her they weren’t her enemy, but she knew she couldn’t trust them. They seemed like creatures who were out for themselves and had no interest in others outside of their nature.
She sighed.
“Is everything okay?”
She blinked; she’d gotten so comfortable in the silence between them that she’d expressed herself without thinking. “Nothing, just tired,” she said as they walked along. “Where are you taking me?”
“The oldest part of the land here,” he said.
She followed him out of the main entrance, and together, they walked past the other houses. She waved to a few women who greeted her, and as the two of them walked out of the main gates of the compound, she enjoyed the comfortable silence between them.
She wanted to ask him where he was taking them as they walked towards the woods. Still, before she got a chance, they arrived at the opening of a clearing, and in the center of the clear, surrounded by brightly colored flowers, was a large pillar of what looked to be…
“Magic stone,” she whispered in amazement. She’d seen magic stones a lot in the city; magic stones were to the Beings like diamonds were to humans. One this big was worth a pretty penny; the soft-shell pink of its outer shell wasn’t anything compared to the rainbow of auras that swirled within.
Seeing eight feet of it was mind-boggling, and as she drew close, she realized that names were etched into it. The Magic in the air buzzed and brushed against her skin, and she immediately lost control of her disguise charm.
“What is this?” she asked, looking at Malcolm, who’d remained quiet.
He kept his eyes on the stone, “Every Alpha who’s ever found his fated mate has carved his and her name here. Since the first Alpha brought his pack here, only a fated pairs name can remain carved here.”
Eliza straightened. “Malcolm?—”
He shook his head, turning to face her, his eyes sharp. “No, I couldn’t promise you what you wished, even if I wanted to.” He sighed. “You’re my fated mate.”
“No.” She gasped; it wasn’t possible. She wasn’t worthy of being anyone’s mate if he knew—she couldn’t tell him. “No, you must be wrong.”
“But it is and cannot be changed.” His voice gruff. “Not that I would have it any other way. I wanted to wait before I told you, but I know this won’t be possible. The more I hold back, the more dangerous I become.”
“Dangerous?’
He nodded. “After my fight with Damon, my ability to change was stunted. When I was banished, I was so lost and alone. Everything that had made me proud had been torn away, not by a stranger but by my own father’s hands. I had done something good, and not only had he labeled me a criminal, but he’d also reported me to the outsiders he’d hated so much. I was filled with murderous rage.”
She wanted to say something, but her mind was blank.
“Those years were interesting; I killed and performed my duty along with others who were similar to me. We were all outcasts from the worlds we’d believed in and had been scraped from the floor of hell to serve a megalomaniacs ego. Tiller never once pretended to be anything more or less than a demon with an axe to grind, and we were his weapons with which to do it.” He shook his head, “Unfortunately, I couldn’t escape one part of my nature: the heat. So, I had no choice but to seek out strangers. A violation of the vows males’ wolves make at twenty, to keep their bodies pure for their mates alone.”
Eliza wanted to look but she couldn’t. He’d trapped her with his ardent gaze.
“I lived like this for many years, with little to no problems.”
“Then what changed?”
He tilted his head sideways, those green eyes leaching of their lovely color to a golden amber. His expression turned feral.
“One of us found love,” he said, his voice stringent with suppressed emotion. “I was the one who’d waited and prayed for my gods not to abandon me and to bring me salvation, and here, the one who’d abandoned all humanity had found one for himself. I—” he bit his lip, but she could understand his complex emotions without words. “I learned that I hadn’t forgotten anything and still craved everything I had grown up with. My people, my Land, and my mate. It was my right to have these things, but I once more suppressed it.”
“And yet, another one of us demons found love. I would have laughed if it wasn’t so sad. I became restless, and just when I was deciding on whether I’d remain a demon or return to the world of hypocritical rules, you appeared.”
She looked away from him, expression now troubled.
“Wild, mysterious, and broken,” he said the last word in a whisper. “I don’t know what my existence means to you, but for me, you are the beginning of my existence. Time, life, and death weren’t real until I laid my eyes on you. I knew then that I had found what was rightfully mine.”
She shivered at his words. Her fingers twitched; she wanted to cover her eyes against his confession. She wanted to run away and never look back. The idea of being his mate was as laughable as her hope to live after taking her revenge. She would die because she was nothing more than the vessel that had gotten lucky.
Her body didn’t show a bit of its actual damage due to the goddess inside her. She remembered the broken ribs, the shattered pelvis, and the arm that had been cut off.
They’d repeatedly thrown her in the ring with another vessel to test her. She felt every wound and watched as they healed.
The minute the goddess left her body, she’d fall apart like a patchwork doll. The only thing that was truly hers was her heart and mind. Everything else was pieces and parts; she’d been sewed together like a Frankenstein, pieces by pieces. A Raggedy Anne doll left nothing but pieces of her soul.
He wanted a woman who’d already died.
Eliza wanted to weep at how unfair life could be, but she’d cried so much already. She’d lost the ability to do it now. She couldn’t tell him what would happen to her. Something told her he’d be the type to lose himself in trying to fix her.
“Malcolm, I?—”
“You don’t have to answer me now.”
Malcolm said, “I know this isn’t the best time, but I don't want to continue pretending. I want you. Tell the truth, lass, do you truly not want me?”
She stared at him, knowing she couldn’t lie about how she felt. “You know how I feel about you.”
“That isn’t an answer, love,” he said, drawing closer to her. “Say the words.”
She closed her eyes, releasing a shuddering breath. “It doesn’t matter how I feel.”
“It matters. It’s the only thing that matters,” he said, cupping her cheek. “I don’t care about anything else; just tell me what you feel for me.”
Warning sirens went off in her head, but she buried them.
“I love you,” she said and drew back. “But that doesn’t change anything.”
She turned and walked away, stopping long enough to say, “I’ll be asking Robert for my own cabin.”
With that, she left him in the clearing.