Breaking Free
Charlotte
My eyes snap open, my heart hammering, as I look around the darkness. Did I black out?
I can feel the warm weight of Ares above me, the heat of his body far too close. His warm breath fans my neck in a way that makes goosebumps rise on my arms.
“Did I black out?” I ask hoarsely as I try to move, but every small brush makes me touch him, and I feel his arms tense at my side; his forehead is resting on the ground, and I realise the collapsed stone has trapped us.
“Don’t move,” Ares growls roughly, his tone making me still.
“Then what do you suggest?” I whisper as everything returns to me: the veil, the poisoned water, which is the reason he’s probably too weak to push away all the rocks. I remember how the tunnel ceiling gave way, Ares protecting me, his body shielding mine as the tunnel collapsed around us.
“Ares?” I whisper, coughing as I choke on dust.
“Yeah?” he replies, sounding irritated, which is oddly reassuring.
“How long have we been like this?” I ask, still coughing, before taking a moment to observe my surroundings properly. Everything has settled, and from the way it feels, I’m certain I was out for more than a few seconds.
“No idea,” he grunts. “Since you’re awake, any idea on how the fuck we’re getting out of this shit?”
“Is the mighty Westwood asking for help?” I tease, despite our situation.
“Keep trying to rile me up, Arden, and I swear I’ll move and let the rocks bury you.”
“If you were tempted to do that, you wouldn’t have been stuck like this,” I say quietly.
He turns his head to look at me, narrowing his eyes. Goddess, that was the wrong thing to do… My core clenches, and I stare back at him.
Please tell me I am not getting turned on by this arrogant Westwood.
He’s handsome… That’s undeniable. Arguably the best-looking of the quints, but– Stop, I tell myself.
“Ok, it’s not funny; you are holding boulders over us,” I mutter. Both of our legs are crushed beneath the rubble, and I can’t even feel mine anymore.
“Really? I never knew,” he replies sarcastically, but I can hear the strain in it. I can hear it in the way he’s breathing, the faint tremor he is trying to hide in the arm beside my head, the way his aura feels fainter than before, still powerful but weaker.
Whatever that poison is, it’s still affecting us.
“Alright, I’m going to try to move the boulders again; just hold on a little longer,” I murmur, shifting ever so slightly, feeling something long press against my thigh. I freeze and don’t dare look at Ares.
“Stop getting distracted.”
“I’m not!” I snap, flustered.
“Liar.” He exhales, and I feel his warm breath against my jaw.
I don’t respond; instead, I begin to focus my power through the rocks on his back. If we can move enough to be able to push them off, that could work.
“And I guess you’re too weak to shift?” I ask quietly.
“Yeah, or I would have, init? Stop asking questions you know the answer to,” he grumbles. It’s obvious Ares doesn’t like looking weak.
“Right then, we do this as quickly as we can.” I begin working on the boulders, but I have no idea how he’s still holding them up; they’re so heavy.
My powers are sluggish and weak, and this is taking longer than it should. But I can tell with each boulder, his expression relaxes a little. Another huge boulder moves, and it smashes to the floor.
Ares lowers his head, closer to mine, shielding my face from falling dust with his own body.
My breath catches, and when he turns his head slightly to look at me, my heart begins to hammer.
“Scared, Princess?” he murmurs.
The words are meant to irritate me; I know that, but his voice is lower now, rougher, and the nickname does not land the same way it did before. But he’s mistaken; my reaction had nothing to do with the boulder.
“Of course not,” I reply smoothly. “Are you?”
He turns his head, his eyes meeting mine.
“Not of this,” he murmurs. Did he mean the rocks? I don’t think so…
I remain silent as I move the next boulder.
“Right, I think I’m going to try to push them off now.
Eyes closed, Princess,” he says. He shifts slightly, adjusting his arms on either side of me.
His brows furrow as he seems to test the weight on his back, and I bite back a gasp when his hips press more firmly against mine, making heat rush through me as I feel something far more obvious this time.
His body stills at once, his breathing changing in a way that makes heat crawl up my neck despite it.
“Are you turned on?” I accuse before I can stop myself.
Ares growls, his head whipping to look me in the eye. “No, or you’d fucking know. If this is the biggest you’ve felt, Arden, I fucking feel sorry for you.”
I glare at him, absolutely mortified that I was wrong and that he had the shame to point out what I had obviously assumed.
“Right… Sorry,” I mutter, embarrassed, unable to look him in the eye.
“Just give me a minute. I need a bit of space to push off, and don’t fucking make this weirder than it already is,” he growls, and for once, I am in complete agreement.
“Go for it,” I say, trying not to focus on how he feels. This man is pure muscle.
But even as he tries, a roar rips from his throat that almost bursts my eardrums; the rocks don’t budge.
“Fuck!” he snarls, breathing hard.
“Alright, that didn’t work,” I say. “I think we’re weaker than we both think.”
“Really? Thanks for the insight.”
I sigh but say nothing, trying to think what to do.
For several seconds, neither of us moves.
We are too close, every inch of us aware of the other, and there is something almost cruel about being trapped like this when my body is weak, my power dulled, and my mind far too aware of the man who keeps pretending he does not care while still holding half a collapsed tunnel off me.
“Arden,” he says, voice rough.
“Yes?”
“Your power and mine work well together. During the battle… I lent you my strength.”
I force myself to focus. “Yes, I remember.”
“So, I’ll lend you my juice again, and you channel it into your earth element, and smash these motherfuckers off me.”
Juice? How on earth did I think using that word had been appropriate back then?
“So we do it again,” I say smoothly. “But that is incredibly reckless.”
“Reckless, maybe. But we don’t have another choice, do we, Princess?”
His mouth is too close to mine when he says it, and for one stupid second, I wonder if he knows. If he knows how impossible it is to think clearly with him above me… If he does, he is not showing it.
“Fine,” I whisper. “But if we bring the rest of the tunnel down on us, I will haunt you.”
“If we bring the rest of the tunnel down, you won’t have to. I’ll be fucking dead with you.”
Ares shifts first, lifting himself just enough to give me space to turn slightly beneath him. It hurts, but I bite it back and place one hand on his bicep, the other I place flat on the ground.
“Alright, you got this,” he murmurs as his aura surges, far from intense, but still, when it begins flowing through me, it gives me the boost I need.
I pull everything from my own strength, my brows furrowing as I reach towards the pile of rocks on top of him, feeling for the weakest part of them.
Ares’ power presses in harder, and I take in as much as I can until the intensity makes my entire body spark.
“Let me know if you need me to slow down,” he mutters, and I close my eyes, thinking every sentence is suddenly sounding wrong!
Then I force my power out into the cracks between the rocks and rubble.
I feel the weight of it, and then Ares clenches his jaw, his aura flaring in the darkness as water gathers around us, joining me, and then there’s a huge blast as water and rock burst upwards, and Ares is no longer on top of me, and my legs are no longer crushed beneath mountains of stone.
A deafening crack rips through the air, the ground trembling as rocks fly high through the now-open night sky.
Cold air rushes in at once, sharp and clean compared to the rank of the tunnel below, and Ares wraps an arm around me as the ground tilts beneath us, and then he jumps out.
I hold him tightly; my legs need fixing. I think I’ve broken a few bones.
We hit the earth and Ares staggers, then we’re rolling across hard ground beneath the open night sky. Ares twists again, and once again his body cocoons mine, taking the worst of the impact with a grunt, and I land half against him, breathless, dizzy, and covered in dirt.
For a few seconds, neither of us moves, and then I let out a startled, breathless laugh before I can stop it.
“Do you always have to be the protector?” I ask. “I didn’t think it was your thing.”
Ares turns his head towards me, lying on his back in the mud, hair damp and messy, face streaked with dirt, eyes glowing faintly. “I have no fucking idea what you’re on about. Did you hit your head, Arden?”
I smile. “Liar.”
His hand is still on my waist, and I relax, simply staring at him.
We are lying far too close on the wet ground, my body half over his, his arm still locked around me as if I might need protecting again.
His grip loosens, and I roll onto my back beside him, wincing as I lie there breathing hard, his arm still beneath my waist.
Above us, the sky is no longer grey; the clouds have cracked open, and the moonlight spills across the abandoned grounds, silver and bright, washing over the ruins of the Desert Storm Pack. My heart hammers as I stare at the moon that now appears clearly in the night sky.
Ares really did not tell me how long he had shielded me for…
Because shining down on us is the Blood Moon, illuminating the night with power and energy as if it had been waiting for us.
For one heartbeat, nothing happens, and I’m about to tell Ares how, thanks to him, I’ve missed the Blood Moon, but then the most intoxicating scent cuts through the damp earth. Sea salt, bergamot, a hint of driftwood intoxicating, serene and masculine.
A scent I know – just heightened.
Ares goes utterly still beside me.
A pull snaps through my chest so sharply I gasp, my hand flying to my heart as if I can hold myself together through sheer will. It’s not painful, but it is too powerful to be anything gentle, a thread drawn tight between my soul and something outside of me. Intense and magical.
My heart thunders as I slowly turn my head towards Ares. His eyes drop from the moon to mine.
The world seems to fall away in pieces: the ruins, the rain, the crack still open somewhere below, the mission, the arguments, every insult, every touch, every moment that has been building between us without either of us daring to name it.
The bond pulls taut, and my breath hitches. Ares’ hand tightens on my waist as my wolf surges forward, my eyes glowing green, and I know from the look in his silver eyes that his has answered, too.
Neither of us speaks.
Neither of us moves.
We simply stare at one another beneath the Blood Moon, hearts pounding, lying side by side in the mud, while fate settles between us with all the subtlety of a blade to the throat.
Only one truth matters.
Ares Westwood is my mate.