Chapter Eight
BENEDICT
The platform outside our treehouse creaked under my pacing.
I could hear Wren’s voice inside: low, steady, determined. Enya and Yazmine murmured instructions around her, calm as storm-hardened stone. Mara whispered spells to ease breath and pain.
I was poised and ready, but inwardly I was a mess. The baby could not have chosen a worse time to come, right when there were cracks in our mateship.
Kieran sat cross-legged near the railing, eyes closed, palms turned upward, breathing slow as still water. Meditating, the infuriating bastard.
Ronan stood near him, too near, leaning against the curved trunk of the treehouse, arms folded, wings drawn in tight.
His eyes were red-rimmed, haunted, desperate to be useful and entirely useless.
His eyes kept flicking to me. I knew what he wanted, but I was still too angry. And now wasn’t the time.
I stared at him long enough that he finally met my gaze.
And it broke something in me. It pissed me off to see the sadness and self-pity in his eyes.
“You don’t get to stand here like a devoted mate,” I said, voice low, deadly. “Not after what you did.”
Kieran cracked one eye open. “Benedict—”
“No,” I snapped. “He left her. She was alone on that beach because he thought a drawing was more important.”
Ronan inhaled sharply. “I know. I know I failed—”
“You don’t know a damn thing.” I stepped toward him, shoulders tight. “You weren’t there when I saw the sand drenched with vampyre blood. You weren’t there when Meruse told me she’d been singing alone against a tide of corpses!”
“The other females came—”
“RONAN—”
Ronan pushed off the tree, jaw clenched. “Say it then. Say what you’ve been holding back. I deserve it.”
“You deserve worse,” I snarled.
The tension snapped.
He lunged first, which was almost admirable, but I met him halfway and was twice his size.
My fist connected with his jaw. He staggered, wings flaring, and threw a blast of wind upward to steady himself.
He swung at me, not with full force, but enough to bruise.
Good. I wanted bruises. I wanted a target.
Kieran leapt between us, catching Ronan’s wrist. “Not now!”
“He put her in danger!” I roared.
“And she’s alive!” Kieran shouted back, finally losing the monk act. “She’s alive because she’s Wren! Not because you can punch the past out of Ronan’s skull!”
Ronan’s chest heaved, shame radiating off him like heat.
I stepped forward again, fists clasping, ready to knock the apology out of him, when the door to the treehouse snapped open with a bang.
Enya stormed out, eyes glowing, hair braided back for battle, but not the kind we were waging outside on the platform.
“If you three idiots do not SHUT UP,” she hissed, “I will throw you off this platform myself.”
We froze.
Enya continued, voice like a whip. “She does not need your guilt, ego, and maleness vibrating through the wood. Fix your mess.”
I opened my mouth.
Enya pointed at me without looking. “No.”
My mouth closed. I whirled on Ronan.
“This is your fault! She wouldn’t have taxed herself if she would have been where she was supposed to be—
Ronan flinched, but didn’t fight me. He just turned and stumbled off the platform, wings flapping in frantic retreat.
“Where are you going?” I called after him, badly wanting a fight.
He turned midair, voice cracking. “The library! To research Veskor and the missing draken lineages! Maybe that will actually help someone today since I’m a waste of space!”
Then he was gone, swallowed by the night.
Kieran glared at me.
Enya turned to Kieran. “You may stay. You are the nice, calm one.”
Kieran smirked. She rounded on me last.
“You—” she began.
“Let me guess,” I said. “Go jump off the cliffs?”
“No.” She crossed her arms. “Go hit something that won’t hit back.”
I blinked. “What?”
“She’s right,” Nerissa said, appearing up the staircase, rising from the shadows like an avenging ghost. She leaned casually against the railing, her blades gleaming. “You’re vibrating like a man who needs either a duel or a scream. I vote duel.”
Kieran brightened. “Oh, absolutely. He’s unbearable like this.”
Nerissa shrugged. “Come on then, King. Burn it out.”
She descended the ladder while I jumped straight down off the platform, not even bothering to slow my descent, every muscle in my body thrumming. My claws hit the ground hard and I relished the pain that vibrated up my body, jarring through my legs.
The clearing below was lit faintly by witchlights. Nerissa stripped off her outer tunic, tying her hair up, revealing old scars and new sigils over her arms.
“I thought you were leaving with your son,” I said.
She shook her head, a rare softness crossing her face. “I told Wren I’d stay. I told her I’d see the child come into this world. And I will.” She exhaled shakily.
My throat tightened. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“I know.” Her eyes hardened again. “Now stop staring and fight.”
We circled. She swung first—fast, shockingly fast—and her knuckles cracked against my jaw. Good. I needed that. The sharp pain helped me focus.
I retaliated, letting some heat slip from my palms, forcing her to dodge. She landed a blow to my ribs. I shoved back, wings flaring. The tension broke like a dam. We traded strikes, bursts of fire, sweeps of claws. No weapons, just fury and release.
She leapt, spun under my arm, slammed an elbow into my solar plexus and then a deep, rumbling growl shook the clearing.
We both froze.
A strange draken landed in the clearing like falling thunder.
He was massive, his eyes burned gold. I knew in a single sniff that wards had just let him through because he was a draken; we’d have to fix that, and soon.
Nerissa’s scent hung about him—her mate.
And there another smell lingered beneath that scent, something that was almost familial?
It reminded me of my dead brother, Bair. I stared in disbelief.
What the fuck. The wards? Did we even HAVE fucking wards anymore?
The draken looked between us: me heaving, and Nerissa sweating, both ready to kill the air.
His lip curled.
“You’re sparring,” he said heavily, “without me.”
His shoulders hunched inward as he pouted. It was this odd submissive gesture that allowed me to set aside the urge to put his insides on the outside of his body.
My hormones and instinct and rage all fought with each other, paralyzing me.
Nerissa rolled her eyes. “Had to start somewhere.”
“You chose him as a warm-up?” The strange draken eyed me. “He’s twitching.”
Nerissa laughed. “His mate is close to labor. He needs a tumble so he won’t burn the world down.”
I bristled. “I’m right here.”
The large draken didn’t answer. He turned and lunged.
For a moment, I had dignity. But only for a moment. It would be rude to immediately subdue a guest, after all.
Suddenly my chest had the wind knocked out of it, my legs were up in the air, and I was staring at the sky, flat on my back and wheezing.
He didn’t even use his full strength, just enough to knock me to the ground.
I stood.
“Do it again!” I said, excited.
So he kicked my ass again. And again. Nerissa shouted tips. Kieran flew down after a bit and watched with a shit-eating grin, looking like he’d just been given a great big present. I hit the ground so many times I was spitting dirt out of my mouth.
“Get him, Canavar!” Nerissa cheered.
Canavar, a draken who fought like a possessed beast, and he was HUGE!
Finally, Canavar pinned me with a knee to my chest, breathing evenly while I kept wheezing.
“You done?” he asked.
“I—gasp—hate—you.”
He smirked.
I stilled.
“He needs it,” Kieran huffed. “Not used to having someone bigger than him around.”
Nerissa and the new draken snorted in unison.
Smoke shot from my nose, my bloodmagick begging to be let free.
“You’re not angry at Ronan,” Nerissa continued. “Not truly.”
Ice slid through my ribs, smothering the fire.
“You’re terrified,” she continued, lowering his voice. “That’s different.”
Canavar stilled, releasing his weight off of me. I sucked air into my lungs, shocked when he held out a hand to help me up. After a short beat, I accepted.
He grunted. “Losing your mate? That kind of fear claws at you. Makes you want to blame someone. Anyone.”
My breath caught. His voice was rough and his speech rudimentary as though he didn’t use it much.
Wren’s screams sliced the air above us.
Canavar lifted a brow. “Your mate will need you after the birth. All of you. Together. Peacefully. And she’ll see right through this rage of yours.”
Nerissa knelt on my other side. “Forgive the bookworm, Benedict. Before the child comes. Don’t make her carry this.”
My eyes burned. I swallowed.
I didn’t want to forgive him.
Kieran watched silently. He’d already said his piece.
“Fine,” I rasped. “I’ll talk to him.”
Canavar raised a brow. “Talk?”
“Punch him less?” I compromised.
He snorted. “Good enough.”
A sharp cry sounded from the treehouse. We all froze. Canavar stood first.
“Go,” he said. “Your place is up there now.”
My legs shook as I rose. I took the stairs, not trusting my wings. Kieran leaned over the railing, motioning frantically. I ran up the ladder, up the platform, toward the door where my future was waiting.