Chapter 49 – Wave
This time when Wave woke up, she knew where she was before she opened her eyes. What she didn’t know was why there was an unfamiliar heartbeat under her cheek. She knew Irishen’s heartbeat and could pick out Jarred’s steady, strong rhythm easily. The chest below her belonged to neither.
“Easy there, sparkle,” a voice murmured softly.
Marc. Why was she lying on top of Marc? Where were her mate and Claimed?
“You were tossing and turning in your sleep,” Marc explained without her having to ask. “Jarred’s out tracing some scent with Justin and Irishen had to head out to sort something out for Ginny, Chrissy, and Di, at his place. He’ll be back soon.”
“Mmh?”
“We moved them there after the attack. Today is Friday. You’ve been asleep for a little over two days. Ilijas says it’s normal with the amount of poison you got into your system.”
Wave swallowed painfully, her throat was so dry. Marc sat up slowly, pulling Wave with him, and then a straw pressed against her lips.
“Drink up. Do you need to go to the bathroom?”
Wave shook her head. She felt dizzy and disoriented, and her eyes still refused to open. She yawned.
“Sleep, sparkle. I’ll keep watch until your mate gets back. Okay?”
“Mm-kay.”
His soft humming lulled her back to sleep in seconds.
Grandfather and Father were fighting again. Wave tried not to listen. She had been told to play with her dollhouse, but when she heard her own name, her ears perked up.
“I will not have Wayla paraded around like a prize pony,” Father snapped.
“She’s the probable heir after you. She needs to—”
“No! You have your lunches with her. She’s on a first-name basis with the Lord of Hell. That is enough. I’m not announcing her to the general population!” Father shouted while Grandfather huffed.
“Why are you clinging to this cloak-and-dagger nonsense, Gileas? Her name provides her more protection, protection you are keeping from her. At least let me tell the rest of the family.”
“No.” Now Father looked thunderous. “I vow as long as I live, she will not claim the Stormwell name.”
A hand landed on her shoulder and Wave glanced up at the demon standing behind her.
“Come, droplet. Let’s practice that shielding again,” Uncle Essi said with a grim smile.
“Okay,” Wave replied and scrambled to her feet. She threw one look at the closed door, but then followed the demon outside. Shielding lessons were her favorites.
A hand shook her shoulder. “Time to wake up, mate.”
“Five more minutes,” Wave grumbled.
“None of that. You need to get up, shower, and eat something. Then you can sleep more.” Irishen refused to let her fall back to sleep.
“I don’t wanna,” she whined and snuggled into—her eyes flew open and met Marc’s steady gaze.
“Good evening, sparkle,” he said with a soft smile.
“I—you—what…” She was at a loss for words. Why was he still in the bed with her when Risha was here? Her mate seemed to read her unspoken question because he answered.
“You clung to him and started to fret in your sleep when he tried to leave.”
“I didn’t,” she immediately shot out hoarsely.
“Here, drink some more,” Marc said, holding a cup with a straw out for her. Grateful, Wave sipped the lukewarm water until her throat felt better.
“How long was I out this time?” she whispered.
“Roughly twelve hours,” Marc replied. “It’s Friday evening now.”
The door crashed open, causing Wave to spill what was left in the cup.
“Where is she?” Hellion roared before freezing in place when he saw her. Wave blinked owlishly, trying to figure out what was going on. For some reason, she had an urge to lash out at Hellion, but she couldn’t puzzle out why.
“Calm down, Hellion,” Irishen said. “She’ll be fine.”
“Fine? FINE?” Hellion’s volume rose. “She was attacked—”
Electricity ran over Wave’s arms when Hellion took a step toward Irishen. Her mate. She needed to protect her mate. It was pure instinct, and it brought back the memory of Hellion advancing on Jarred.
“Cut it out, Lion,” Irishen snapped. When Hellion took another step, Marc’s hands clamped over Wave’s and he curled around her. Was he protecting her from something, or something from her wasn’t clear, but he put himself between her sizzling hands and the rest of the room.
“Easy there, sparkle,” he murmured.
Irishen threw a quick glance at them and then he stepped right into Hellion and grasped the demon’s neck with one hand and his hair with another.
“Cut. It. Out. Now.” His tone made Wave shiver and pussy pulse. The air around the two of them crackled with burning heat and ice. To her utter surprise, it calmed her instincts. Her mate was holding his own very well. In fact, he was the dominant of the two, despite Hellion’s strength.
“That’s it, sparkle. Deep breaths,” Marc murmured into her ear.
Hellion snarled at Irishen, but the male yanked his head back and a circle of ice appeared around Hellion’s throat.
“You are upsetting my mate, Lion. Calm down before I make you.”
“You wouldn’t dare—”
“Try me. She’s my mate.”
“Not that this display isn’t turning Wayla on,” Marc decided to butt in. “But she still needs that shower and food and rest.”
Both males glanced in their direction and Wave was sure her cheeks were flushed. It didn’t take much to imagine the two of them just like that, but naked. She expected to feel jealous, but all she sensed was a curious flutter in her stomach and her nipples turning even harder.
Hellion’s fiery crackle went out first, quickly followed by Irishen’s icy haze. Irishen let go of Hellion and they stepped away from each other, still tense but not explosive anymore.
“Spoilsport,” Wave muttered. Marc gentled his hold on her and massaged her fingers and arms until the sizzle of electricity was gone.
“What happened?” Hellion asked in a more reasonable tone.
“That’s what all of us need to know,” Marc said. “Where were you?”
“I got called back to Hell with Hazard,” Hellion replied. “I thought we were going to be just a moment, but it was one thing after another. Didn’t you get the message?”
“Called back by whom?” Irishen asked.
“Ornozh,” Hellion said. “What happened?”
“Ornozh? Not your father or Esserieh? Why would he call you and Hazard back?” Marc pressed.
“There was an area dispute and Father was busy.” Hellion ignored his other questions. He focused on Wave. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
Her reply got a snarl from Marc and a furious growl from Irishen.
“Someone broke into their dorm and attacked her,” Irishen told Hellion. “The girls called us, but the intruder was gone by the time we got there. Jarred and Justin are sniffing out the area for any hints of lalwe root right now.”
“Lalwe root?” Hellion frowned.
“She was drugged by it,” Irishen said.
“By the time I got there, she was unconscious,” Marc added. “Ilijas says the dose could have been fatal.”
“Lalwe root?” Wave’s throat was suddenly dry again. She tried to keep her breathing slow and even and voice steady. “You’re sure it was lalwe root?”
“That’s what Ilijas said,” Marc replied. “Why?”
Irishen’s phone buzzed, and he impatiently hit the screen. “She’s awake, Jarred,” he said as soon as he lifted the phone to his ear. Wave didn’t hear what Jarred replied, but Irishen’s scowl deepened.
“Wayla?” Hellion asked.
She couldn’t look at him. She didn’t dare to close her eyes, either. Just breathe, Wave, just breathe. In and out. You can do that. She kept telling that to herself over and over and over. Just breathe.
It was no use. The memories surfaced like a tide she couldn’t hold back.
What were the odds that it was lalwe root?
The one substance that sirens were especially vulnerable to.
The same one that had taken her down once before.
How hadn’t she recognized the smell? Had it been covered under the stench of rot and sulfur?
“Okay. Yeah. Get back. I’ll tell them.” Irishen was still talking.
The one-sided conversation was quick and his eyes didn’t move from Wave, but she wasn’t really processing what he was saying.
He ended the call and pushed the phone back into his pocket.
“They lost the trail. Someone portaled out. Both of them are heading back.”
Her hands started to shake and her control over her powers cracked, when the panic started to set in. If it had been anyone but Marc with his formidable shields holding her, they would have been blasted back when a layer of water interlaced with a web of electricity sprang up all over her skin.
“Wayla!”
“What—”
Hellion and Marc shouted, but Irishen surged forward and clasped her hands despite the little electric shocks it gave him. She didn’t want to hurt him, but she was too lost to control herself better.
“Mate?”
The syrupy sweet flavor with a bitter aftertaste filled her mouth. But Larig was dead. She had watched him bleed out under her mother’s daggers. She had been covered in his blood by the end of it. It couldn’t be him, could it?
Sing, little siren.
No! No, no, no. She wasn’t in that cell anymore. This bed wasn’t the cold slab, and the things holding her hands were not manacles.
She blinked furiously when she realized that nothing was holding her hands. Marc’s hold was loose around her waist, keeping her upright, not holding her back, and Irishen was running his hands up and down her legs, murmuring softly.
His bond was iron hard in her mind, rooting her into reality.
Her powers still crashed inside of her, looking for a threat, but there was none here. She itched to scream, let her pain out and render all minds around her to pieces. But she couldn’t do that. Shouldn’t. Still, the urge burned in her throat.
“I only smelled sulfur and rot,” she choked out. “Are you sure it was lalwe root?”
“Ilijas was sure,” Marc replied quietly.
“Where is he? I’m going to go check,” Hellion said.