Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Dom released Evie from the supportive hold he’d kept on her up the slippery steps. That hug…
His heart skipped several beats when Evie marched up the last two steps like an avenger covered in the blood of her attackers, proud and undefeated. Stunning.
He was feeling far too much. Hell, he shouldn’t be here, tempting the Conclave with ripples in the Source. He rotated the gemstone of the ring into his palm and fisted his hand to cover the obsidian that they used to monitor him, not that it would do much to buffer the potency of his feelings.
No one touched him by choice. Even the few humans he’d slept with over the long years required a bit of mental coercion to get them past their fear of him. A squeeze to the cilice around his thigh was supposed to flood him with immunity from this kind of desire, but it didn’t.
When she had dragged him out of the river that night, she entangled their fates.
He may have said he didn’t believe in life debts, but he did.
He wanted to believe his heart hardened and black, but…
Evie. Nothing counteracted his drive to protect her.
Not the constant threat of the Conclave who always claimed to be ready to annihilate him out of frustration.
Not the cilice. Not the thought of triggering doom for all around him if he acknowledged what he felt.
That no one else could see Evie as a conquering queen baffled him.
He had assumed the order of things called for her to be mated to a lycan.
The sap should’ve fallen to his knees in reverent thanks to be gifted such an exquisite mate.
Instead, Willem imprisoned her. He exerted control over her with the efficiency of a tyrant and empathy of a rock.
Even more baffling was that she let him torture her.
After discovering the mhis, it finally made some sense.
He had watched and occasionally protected her. He may have even pushed Willem into injury a time or two, not that the lucky bastard would die. The Fates kept Willem around to torture Evie for some reason he had yet to understand.
If the mages of the Conclave realized he couldn’t let her go, they’d destroy her, which was why he had remained in the shadows of her life.
Until now. He didn’t think the Conclave would destroy him no matter how much they threatened to do so, not so long as he remained the Fates’ errand boy.
That didn’t mean they wouldn’t try to imprison him in some way again.
And shock of all shocks, Evie eavesdropped on him as a dream walker.
Sometimes he liked to mess with her when he felt her watching.
He’d do ridiculous, nonsensical things until she gave herself away laughing or gasping in shock.
That was the only communication he ever got from her.
She couldn’t speak to him in that state.
He couldn’t even see more than a shimmering suggestion of her.
With those ghost-like visits she offered him a glimpse of lightness in a life full of repetition and doldrum.
Even so, he wouldn’t touch her. Not for real.
Because of the prophecy. Because she evoked more emotion from him than anyone he could recall since the one woman with whom he had thought himself in love. Back then, he’d been wrong.
He’d still protect Evie.
Always.
Tonight had been hard to watch. He wanted to eliminate the threats against her. He could’ve killed all the humans attacking her in seconds. Yet, he forced himself to be patient. She needed to learn to fight on her own. He’d assisted, of course. He’d never let her die.
At the top of the steps she stood, a hand poised to knock. “If I knock, he’ll think I’m begging—”
With barely a stretch of his power, he blew the door inward. Let her make a grand entrance. He jogged up the step, held her hand while waving to entreat her to enter with his other, and he bowed ever so slightly.
She giggled, a lighthearted noise that tickled all the way to his gut.
Before she went in, he squeezed her hand to pause her.
He lifted his pendant over his head and put it into her free hand.
What the hell am I doing? “I’m going to say the incantation to pry the curse free of you.
When the moment’s right, you must touch Willem and say: I choose Willem to take the mhis.
After that, put this on.” He wrapped her fingers around the pendant.
“It might prevent it from bouncing back to you.”
“I can’t accept this.” She stared at it. “This looks old enough to be a relic.”
It is. “It’ll protect you from most curses and spells.”
She tried to press it back into his hand. “You need this more than me. If those dreams were real, then I’ve seen the damage caused by whatever you fight.”
“You need it right now.” He pushed her closed hand into her chest.
“I’ll borrow it. Perhaps this is a good moment to—”
“What the hell?” Willem trailed off when he did a once over of her and sneered. “You’re filthy.”
A glance down seemed to remind her that human blood splattered most of her. The upper left portion of her dress had been partially blown off by the rifle, leaving her arm exposed up to her collarbone and her left breast barely covered.
“Be invisible,” she whispered to Dom.
“Already am, miri thagarni.” My queen.
Coming face-to-face with Willem, knowing he couldn’t smash in his face until his airway was clogged with blood, killed a piece of him. This was her fight.
Roman crept in, clinging to the wall for support.
The child’s left eye had swollen to the point it was almost closed.
Bruises covered his chin, which meant the injury was recent.
Even though he was young, Roman should heal rapidly.
How distasteful for a male to do that to his son for no reason other than his own frustrations.
Evie shot forward and punched Willem so hard he crashed backward. Four more successive hits threw him onto the floor.
The fierce matriarch had awakened. He smiled, not that anyone other than her could see.
She kicked Willem in the stomach and yelled, “Surprised to see me? Get up, coward.”
Dom compressed his lips to suppress a snicker.
With a glance his way, she motioned a get on with it signal. She handed the baby to Roman and ordered, “Protect your brother. I’ve decided to name him Flynn, in honor of his mother’s family name.”
Roman shuffled backward with the baby in a protective hold.
Dom uttered the words to bind demon magic. He said them three times and signaled to her.
“I choose Willem to take my mhis,” she said out loud with a foot on his leg. Then she put on the pendant he’d given her, which had been bespelled by the most powerful protective magic known. She threw back her shoulders and trembled for a moment as if a ghost had walked through her.
Willem grabbed her leg to pull her down. She stumbled. Dom jumped forward to catch her and simultaneously kicked Willem in the balls.
Willem rolled into himself, moaning.
Dom whispered, “Are you okay?”
She glanced back to whisper, “I feel…different. Is it gone?”
He looked beneath the hair on her neck to find the mark gone. “It worked. Remember, you’re talking to nothing. They can’t see or hear me. They’ll think you’ve lost your mind.”
“As if I care,” she muttered.
When he stepped away, he blinked and blinked again.
She glowed. Like she had when her hood fell next to the river.
Without glamour, an inner blaze blasted from her as if she were a divine entity.
He threw out a hand to ground himself with the solidness of the wall and prevent his knees from buckling. Her inner radiance was so bright.
She smiled gratitude up at him.
Warmth filled his chest. This was not good.
His dick was one thing. Anything north of it was something else entirely.
He needed to establish rules between them.
Rules for himself. Starting with a big “no” when it came to feeling whatever the hell this may be.
He refused to feel like this, refused to feel anything close to love ever again.
Willem and Roman stared at her as if in shock to the point of horror.
She ran her hands over her chest. The wide rings of her irises met Dom’s. “I’m healed. All the pain is gone. I forgot healing is supposed to work like this. Incredible.”
Incredible, like you. Dom nodded. What am I thinking? He took a step forward without meaning to. She didn’t step away from him as her gaze fell to his lips. This magnetism between them was a calamity waiting to happen.
“Mom? You’re…” Roman jostled the baby against his chest, but kept a shoulder against the wall. “You’re glowing and…different.”
She stepped away, the bond between them broken.
“Evie?” Willem rose and reached out as if to touch her, but she stepped out of his reach.
“Efrem! Roman, tell me he’s okay,” Evie called out.
“Here,” Efrem called from the doorway to the kitchen.
“Get out here.”
Efrem’s mouth dropped. “You look more you.”
“I had a demon curse on me.” She shook her head to dismiss it. “We can talk about it later. Prepare the carriage for Willem’s departure.” She approached Willem. “Did you put the demon spell on me?”
“What? No.” Willem took a step away from her but wouldn’t meet her gaze.
“This spell or curse or hex—or whatever the hell it was—has prevented me from being me since the moment you acquired me. I won’t say ‘mated’ because we never matched.”
He shook his head and stared at her, transfixed.
“You will leave this house. Don’t let me see you near me or my children for the rest of my life.”
“You have no right to—”
With a snarl, she swiped his leg. He fell. She captured his hair in her left hand and held a blade to his neck. With a knee planted dead-center on his chest, she hissed, “Give me one reason not to cut the lying tongue out of your mouth. I have every right to kill you.”
He craned his neck away from the knife.
She pressed the tip into his skin until he bled.
“I just butchered more than twenty crazed humans while holding a newborn. One of them even shot me.” She pulled his neck into the blade, deepening the cut.
“If you touch me or any of my sons ever again, I will end you. If I see you again, I will send the hounds of hell after you until I can’t see you anymore.
” She leaned close to him. “I’m letting you live so your son doesn’t have to watch me destroy you. If he wasn’t here…”
“You can’t do this. I’ll go to the Council and have you cast away as mad. The boys are mine.”
She laughed, but it was a heartless, terrifying noise. “Go to the Council. I dare you. Everyone here saw you cast your newborn son and pregnant mate out the door into the hands of werewolf hunters to be slaughtered. That’s a crime punishable by death.”
He made a choking noise. She noticed he bled quite a bit.
“Dom, can you help me knock him out so we can put him in the carriage?” She thought it in her head and he picked it up. “I don’t want to be close to him anymore. It might tempt the curse-spell to take me back.”
Would he let her get away with ordering him around? Yeah. He was so hard watching her be this fierce that he didn’t dare disobey. He moved past her to knock Willem’s head against the floor. The curse would guarantee them hours before he could heal enough to wake up.
“What the hell did that?” Efrem jumped around, swatting at the air as if he might hit something solid. “What else did you bring in here, Evie?”
She ignored him. “Roman, gather anything you think useful for the baby. We’re returning home tonight to collect your brothers. I wish to leave his mistress’s house. Then, we’ll figure out how to disappear.”
“I want to kill him.” Dom waved at Willem.
Her lips compressed into a thin line as she considered his offer. “What happens to the curse if you do that?”
“Kinda spooked,” Efrem said “Who are you speaking to?”
Dom said, “Fair point. If I should run into him at another time, let me kill him.”
“If anyone’s killing him, it’ll be me.” She stared at Dom. “It’s not fair that I can’t right now.”
“Who are you conversing with?” Roman asked.
“No one.” Her eyes darted to Dom.
He shrugged a told-you-so.
Roman said, “Efrem’s right. I sense something else here. Did you get help—”
“Efrem, put him in his carriage,” she interrupted.
“Send him to Hungary. We’re returning home.
Invite any of the domestics who you think would be loyal to join us.
” Once Willem was outside, she rushed to Roman to pull him into a hug with the baby between them.
“I love you, darling. I was terrified for you, but I’m so proud of how strong you were. ”
“I thought I lost you, Mom.” A few tears escaped his eyes.
“I’m here.” She wiped away the lines of moisture on his face.
“He’ll come back.”
“Let him try. If I ever see him again, I’ll kill him.”
“Or I will.” Roman handed his mother the infant.
“Are you well enough to help Efrem organize a carriage to take us home?”
Straightening, he didn’t show an ounce of pain or weakness as he left to do what she asked.
“Thank you.” The weight of her gaze on him weakened Dom’s resolve to say no to whatever made him unable to stop watching over her.
With a swallow, he realized this had progressed far beyond want and into an obsessive desire to fuck her so hard neither of them would even be tempted to leave the bed for days. Something in his chest squeezed with a familiar feeling that terrified him.
Out of habit, he pressed his hand into the cilice around his thigh to make it bite deep into his skin. The potion painted onto its links had to suppress this desire. It was a reminder and an atonement. As usual, it did nothing to dimmish what he felt for her.
This emotion was everything the Conclave warned him they monitored. Him being here put her at risk. This would cause too many ripples in the Source.
She quirked her lips into a lopsided grin. This was a new look from her. “Are you okay? You look like you swallowed a rotten apple.”
“Me?” he croaked out. No one cared about him. Nobody was ever there to save him. No one ever asked about his welfare. Except for her.
Escape. His energy waned after so much effort—travels to the in-between, healing her, and then relocating a demonic curse. This must be the reason he was going soft in his head.
He snapped, “Don’t visit me anymore. We’re even. You go your way. I’ll go mine. We’re done.” He forced himself to leave, disappearing to the in-between and then home.
He couldn’t follow her or watch her anymore.
Pain burned deep inside him.
He’d ignore it. He had to.