Chapter 16
There was, Max thought, a certain joy in just letting go. In not thinking too hard about things. It was… freeing.
Destroy the one who harmed our mate, the voice in his head hissed. Leave no remnants.
It definitely wasn’t the kind of thing he would normally think – the complete opposite, in fact.
He’d never been the type to resort to violence, preferring to either outthink his opponents – such as they were, it had mainly just been some jock in his sophomore year of high school – or avoid them altogether.
As someone who could generously be described as either a pacifist or a bit nerdy, depending on how generous the observer was feeling, he’d always been conflict-avoidant.
But now his blood surged hotly in his veins, burning fiery trails throughout his body, and it was all he could do to not rend his imbecilic opponent limb from limb.
Or consciousness from body, anyway. At this point, almost all of the damage he was inflicting was mental rather than physical, but the end result would be pretty similar.
He felt powerful. Invincible.
Why didn’t I discover this part of myself years ago? My life could have been so different.
An image flashed through his mind – indistinct, slowly resolving itself into what he thought might be a memory.
A woman with dark eyes, telling him that if he learned how to shift, he would need her there with him to guide him through it.
That the power it unleashed could be addictive.
That it was almost impossible to keep the lion at bay without someone else there to show him what to do.
That the later in life the first shift occurred, the more difficult the lion would be to control.
Well, fat lot of good that advice was, Max thought as he ground the heel of his hand into the man’s throat, listening to his choked-off gasps with indifference. I never did learn how to shift, did I?
Fool, spat the voice in his head.
Max thought that was a little harsh, and he had to admit that he was getting a bit sick of this voice that kept on butting into his thoughts.
It wasn’t like he’d never heard it before in his life, but it had usually just lurked, occasionally commenting on things and giving him advice, both good and bad.
He’d always just thought of it as the devil on his shoulder, able to be ignored at will, but suddenly, it seemed emboldened.
And all of its advice was good advice, now.
Well. It felt good, anyway.
Max felt the power surge through him once more, and he channeled it directly into the man’s brain. The man responded by twitching and jerking, his face bathed in a strange blue glow. He didn’t seem to be in a very good way.
Well, that’s what he gets for threatening our mate, the voice said, clearly assured that it was being entirely reasonable. You don’t think that creature deserves mercy, do you?
No. Max supposed he didn’t. Though he wasn’t sure he was entirely on board with what could probably be considered murder.
… Especially since he didn’t have a mate, so he wasn’t quite sure why the voice kept insisting that he did. Couldn’t shift, no mate – he really must have been a terrible disappointment to everyone in his life.
Still, it seemed like maybe he had at least finally managed to level up his powers a little, if the way he was incapacitating the man beneath him was anything to go by.
None of this guess I’ll try and go unnoticed so I can write a secret restaurant review bullshit – no, this was real, unfettered power.
His mom would be so happy to know that he wasn’t completely useless.
He blinked, wondering what had brought that thought on.
Forget about her, the voice urged. Avenge your mate.
… Okay, the voice’s constant insistence that he had a mate was starting to get a bit weird. Why would he want to avenge something he didn’t even have? He was starting to think that maybe his usual assessment of devil on my shoulder wasn’t so far off the mark after all.
It’s the only way to keep her safe, the voice whispered – and at that moment, the man on the ground struggled under Max’s weight, clearly gathering his resources to make one last effort to overcome him.
He raised one shaking hand toward Max’s face, and Max suddenly remembered what that meant. How powerful his enemy was.
Let him have all of it.
He unleashed a torrent of energy, concentrating it into the very center of the man’s consciousness. The air glowed a brilliant blue, the man twitching beneath him, a pained cry rasping from his throat.
Max could have kept doing this all day. For the first time in his life, he felt powerful. It was so easy.
But there was a strange electric feeling pulsing through his body. Not from his powers – where they burned, this soothed. It was nice. Calming.
Distracting.
A voice was calling out to him. He had no idea what it was saying – a few sounds repeated over and over again. All he could say was that it sounded right, even though he couldn’t understand a word.
Maintaining his powers enough to keep the man incapacitated, he turned his head to follow the voice, to seek the source of the pulsating electricity.
Kneeling before him was a woman, her hands on his face, her pretty face bathed in blue. Tears shone on her cheeks, and he couldn’t figure out why. Could she be a companion to the man on the ground?
No. Surely not. He couldn’t quite say why, but he knew that this was wrong.
Then… was she a companion to him?
Max shook his head to clear it, noticing with a grimace how weirdly heavy it felt.
At least now he had an answer to his questions: this woman was the source of both the repetitive sounds, and the nice electric feeling. It emanated from her hands where they touched him, calming him, dispelling some of the noise that was coming from the agitated voice in his head.
The woman moved her mouth, the sounds coming out again, her expression full of love and compassion. Her hands really did feel wonderful against his face, and he leaned into the touch, closing his eyes.
This feels like what I always imagined the mate bond would feel like.
The thought was a strange one. Why would he have a mate now – one he couldn’t even remember?
And why was the voice in his head telling him to avenge his mate, when apparently she was right here, seemingly alive and well?
Assuming she was his mate, of course, but it seemed like the most logical explanation for everything.
… He really was tired. And confused.
Max leaned deeper into her touch with a sigh, enjoying the warm buzz of her fingers as they stroked his hair. He thought that maybe he would go to sleep right here.
Her voice floated to him out of the comfortable darkness.
Max.
It was a sound he’d heard her making before, but this time he thought he understood it. It was his name… wasn’t it?
He cracked open his eyes, meeting her kind, serious gaze.
Max. You can stop now. It’s okay.
Somehow, the words made sense. Mostly. But stop what?
Oh, he thought suddenly. That. Yeah, maybe I should stop that.
He turned his head to look at the injured man sprawled on the ground beneath him. The fae, he thought suddenly, not sure where the idea came from. He’d never met any fae in his life.
Whoever the man was, he was still alive – but not for long, if Max continued to use his powers against him. Max may not have understood a lot about what was going on, but he did know that much.
My mate, the woman said. You’re my mate, Max. And you need to stop this now. I’m safe.
Max’s heart soared at the word mate. He still didn’t fully understand it, but it felt right.
And the woman – his mate – was calm, in control.
She obviously knew much better than he did what was going on, and he knew that he needed to take his cues from her in this instance.
He needed to stop using his powers on the fae.
The voice in his head protested weakly, but it also seemed to have been blindsided by the touch of the kind woman.
The fae slumped back as Max severed the connection between them, unconscious but still breathing wheezily, and suddenly the blue light faded away.
Thank you, Max, came the woman’s reassuring voice, and he felt a surge of what felt like gratitude pass through him from her hands. You did a great job.
He turned to look at her once more, finding that he could still see her despite the darkness. She, perhaps, was struggling to see him, because she pulled out some sort of object with one hand and summoned a bright light from it.
That’s better, she muttered to herself, and the ordinariness of her speech almost jolted him.
Now that the threat of the fae had been neutralized and the voice inside his head had quieted itself – and now that he wasn’t riding the wave of energy that had come from using his powers – he was starting to find himself confused.
He really had no idea of what was going on, and now that he’d realized that, it was starting to worry him a bit.
Or a lot.
Maybe you should ease up on that guy a little, the woman went on. You don’t want to crush him to death.
It took a moment for Max to work out what she was talking about, but then he realized that he still had a hand pressing down on the fae’s chest. He glanced down at it as he lifted it – and saw that it wasn’t his hand at all.
Scrambling madly backward, he felt himself crashing into the wall – or the walls, it felt like, and possibly the ceiling. He cried out in pain and surprise, but his voice wasn’t his own. It wasn’t even human.
Max! came the woman’s voice, her hands reaching for him again. Max, it’s okay. You shifted. But you’re still you, Max. Come back to me.
I… shifted?
It didn’t seem right. Since when had he been able to shift? And what had he shifted into?!
But somehow, it seemed to make the most sense. And if his mate thought that it was true, then he had to trust her.
I know you can do it, Max.