Chapter 21 #2
Lore inclined his head, looking amused as he leaned a shoulder against the bookshelf opposite them.
Oh, boy. Ash rubbed her hands on her coat. The small study shrank even further. Bodies filled the tiny space like a living barricade, cutting off escape and air. She’d been around big males before—Attor, Skaldr, and Koal—but that had been inside enormous caves or outside, with sky and distance.
Now, surrounded by raw power and that undercurrent of dominance, she could barely breathe. She swallowed hard and stepped closer to Race, her pulse racing as her power prickled beneath her skin.
God, not now—not now.
She clenched her fists, trying to hold the storm inside.
“We’re waiting,” Michael bit out.
“Race—” Ash spun to him, grasped his shirt, her powers overwhelming her, sparking through her fingertips. “I-I…”
“Breathe,” he said softly, rubbing her arms. “Just breathe, heart-fire. You’ve got this.”
“Damn,” someone drawled, rough amusement cutting through the tension. “I would never have believed this if I weren’t seeing it. Race, she’s got you—”
The lights flickered. The room plunged into shadow.
“What the fuck?” someone cursed as rain fell in a violent torrent, drenching everyone, hissing over the hearth, and drowning the flames. Lightning crackled, spidering across the ceiling and striking the wall—
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Ash wrenched the door open and fled onto the terrace. The freezing air slapped her wet skin, and her cloud followed, dumping sheets of rain on her.
Oh, God, what did I do?
“Ash, look at me.” Race caught her shoulders, turning her to face him.
Rain coursed down his face, but his claret eyes remained calm and steady.
“Lock down your abilities. You can do this. I know you’re exhausted and overwhelmed after everything that’s happened, but you need to focus. Pull your powers back into you.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, dragging the storm’s wild energy deep into herself. In her mind, she pictured steel walls and slammed them into place—one after another—until the crackling faded, and the air stilled.
With a shaky breath, she opened her eyes and found the drenched Guardians watching. None of them looked furious. Not even surprised.
Race’s warmth seeped through her, wrapping around her like a blanket, drying her skin and clothes, and she swallowed hard.
Laughter broke out, rolling through the room and mingling with the steady drip of water from furniture and soaked clothes.
“That’s what I’ve been telling you mofos,” Race growled.
More than that, she sensed his pride beneath the roughness.
Okay then. She inhaled deeply.
“She’s likely psionic. When she’s overwhelmed, this happens. Come.” He guided Ash back into the sodden study, the carpet squelching beneath her boots.
Michael watched her for a beat, water dripping off his drenched hair and clothes. Then, with a flick of his hand, the room righted itself—the fire roared back to life, his clothes and the furniture dried, and puddles vanished. As if the storm had never been.
He strolled around the desk and sat in his chair, and it squeaked under his weight.
Race hooked his booted foot under one of the leather chairs across the desk and shoved it behind her. Ash sank into it and almost groaned, the weight of her fatigue hitting all at once.
He dropped her backpack on the floor next to her and stayed close, a steady presence at her side.
She glanced at all these powerful Guardians, every one of them intimidating and still dripping like they’d taken a wrong turn into a pond. Ash bit her lip to keep from smiling. “I didn’t mean to rain on you. Literally.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Tyr said, slicking back his drenched hair. “Most fun I’ve had today.”
Kira burst out laughing, perfectly dry. “God, you should have seen their faces! But that was a great intro, Ash. And welcome to the castle.”
It was as if the archangel deliberately left the men soaking.
“It sure lightened up this day,” the blue-eyed Guardian, Blaéz, added, making her smile.
“This is Ashaya James,” Race introduced her. “Ash, these are some of my fellow Guardians. I’d introduce each one, but it’ll just confuse you more.”
Like she wasn’t already.
“You going to fill us in now?” Michael asked, one eyebrow raised, leaning back in his squeaky chair.
“I was abducted, actually,” Ash blurted. “Dragged into another world. Race came after me—rescued me from a cave, high up in a mountain. I’m fairly certain it was near a volcano, what with the bloody heat. Couldn’t see much, though…” She frowned. “It was the middle of the night.”
Race’s lips twitched. “And there you have it, in a nutshell. Time differences and all that—it’s why weeks have passed here.”
“Where?” Michael asked. Then he shook his head and answered himself. “Lemuria.”
“Your old world?” The blue-haired guy asked Race, his brow creasing.
“Yeah.”
“Ash, honey,” Kira called out. “Race will fill them in on everything. Since you’ve already lived through it, would you like to shower and change in the meantime?”
Ash didn’t want to leave him, but a hot shower and the chance to wash off days of grime sounded wonderful.
“Oh, yes, please. I’d appreciate that, actually.” She grabbed her pack, shot to her feet, gave Race one last quick look, and could feel his stare as she followed Kira out.
The study door shut behind Ash, and Race exhaled deeply. Heat roiled within him, coiling him tighter and tighter, and he knew why. Damn mating fever.
Every one of his fellow Guardians’ heads turned toward him as they mentally dried themselves off—their stares like annoying barbs. Nosy assholes.
Before they opened their mouths and started on him, he said to Michael, “I did text you about Ash before her abduction.”
The archangel shook his head. “Got nothing.”
“I can’t verify it, anyway. My cell’s gone—probably lost in the scramble fighting those damn dragon guards.”
“We have replacements,” Aethan said, retying his blue hair into a ponytail. “I’ll get you one in a moment. So, what happened?”
“A whole damn lot.” Race lowered into Ash’s seat, every muscle dragging.
“I need some time off, Michael, to go back to Lemuria. I have to help them. The world I once knew is being torn apart. That bastard Malcarion has turned it into a wasteland. He’s enslaving non-shifters, dragging children deep into the mines for whatever the fuck he needs. It’s a slaughter.
“And the biggest threat?” he growled. “One of his soldiers, a fucking Talon-Marshal, knows about Ash. He scented her. In Lemuria, she’s what they call a Storm Summoner—rare and sought after.
If he tracks her here, he’ll send hunters after her.
I can’t let that happen. And, I have a score to settle with that fucker, Malcarion. ”
“You need help,” Aethan said. “Ask, and you’ll have it.”
“Thanks.” Race’s mouth tightened. “But I won’t be alone. The Resistance is waiting.”
Michael shifted in his chair, the thing creaking under his weight. “You’ve never shown an interest before in setting foot back in Lemuria.”
“True.” But he wasn’t about to spill his millennia-old anger at his brothers. “My first thought was to find Ash and leave. But then I saw more.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, remembering the despair. “I have to help.”
Michael didn’t respond, and the silence in the room crackled with tension. He picked up a pen, flipping it between his fingers. “Very well, I’ll speak with Gaia. And yes, Ashaya is definitely psionic. It feels like Calenai’s powers. She has his eyes, anyway.”
“Indeed,” Lore said, lounging against the bookshelf, his arms folded over his chest. The former angel’s tone carried a quiet weight. He likely knew Ash’s angelic ancestor.
“So…” Blaéz’s blue eyes gleamed as he settled into the chair opposite Race, looking ready to start shit. “The male who swore a mate wasn’t in the cards for him now can’t seem to stop watching one particular female.”
“Is that what’s so important?” Race growled. “Because I kept someone who happened to be a psi safe?”
“The bullshitting ain’t gonna cut it, man,” Tyr snorted, spinning the damn ball again. “You forget every one of us in this room has already been down that road. Denial? Nope, it ain’t a river in Egypt. So, spill.”
He wasn’t admitting to anything, not when he didn’t know if he could actually claim her. But with this mating fever garroting him, everything damn messed with his mind.
Blaéz bent down and picked up something that flashed blue from the carpet. “Yours?”
He blinked. “Ash’s. It must have fallen from her backpack.”
Race took the morvaen stone, fingers brushing Blaéz’s. The warrior grasped his wrist, his eyes going dark and swirly.
Fuuuck. He liked the male—hell, knew him for millennia—but the precog shit? Nope! “Don’t want to hear it, Celt.”
“Why not?” Aethan asked, pushing off the jamb. “Could be useful with what you’re planning. His precognition is parallel—”
“In the space between heartbeats…” Blaéz’s voice dropped to an eerie whisper, “where shadow swallows light…mortality weaves immortality’s chains.”
The room went still.
Great. Just what he needed—a freaking riddle to fester in his skull.
Refusing to show his unease, he glanced at his fellow Guardians. None responded with an explanation. Godsdamn perfect.
He drawled, “When you figure that out, you know how to reach me.”
Blaéz snorted, back to himself. “Use it, don’t. I imagine you’ll—”
A boom ricocheted through the castle, causing the windows and doors to shudder, as if a giant pylon had fallen over the castle, blitzing everything.
“What the fuck was that?” someone barked.
Ash!