CHAPTER 24
Fuery had thought himself crazy before. How mistaken he had been. He was going out of his fucking mind as he leaped into yet another messed up teleport that took him from Vail’s orchard to the guild, landing him in a shaking heap in the middle of the reception room. He staggered onto his feet, pain branded on his bones, burning like wildfire as Shaia’s fear consumed him.
And then disappeared.
Cold swept through him, a chilling numbness that tore at the fragile tethers of his sanity and had the darkness surging, roaring to the fore again together with a crushing need to find her as he stumbled across the black stone floor towards the male he could sense moving swiftly towards him.
Hartt appeared at the end of the corridor just as Fuery’s legs gave out, a strange combination of fear, grief and sheer agony boiling inside him, pulling him apart.
Ripping his heart out of his chest.
“Shaia,” he breathed, and it seemed it was all he needed to say.
Hartt rushed to him, skidding to his knees before him and gripping his shoulders to help him up into a sitting position. “What happened to her?”
“Where?” he bit out, wrestling with the darkness, desperate to hold it back and retain his sanity, his tentative grip on this world.
He needed to find her.
He couldn’t let the darkness consume him now.
Wouldn’t.
He would fight it with everything he had, would vanquish it somehow this time, because Shaia’s life depended on it. He felt sure of it. She was in danger. In pain. Fearing for her life.
He reached through their bond, focused on it and growled through his fangs when he felt nothing.
The darkness surged again, writhed like a living thing inside him, as wild as the rest of him, as if it too needed to find her, couldn’t live another second without her. Impossible. It despised her light. He could feel it as he focused, the way it boiled with fury, antagonised by the seed of light Shaia had placed in him. It whispered to him, poisonous words about giving in, surrendering and forgetting everything.
It didn’t want him to find Shaia. It wanted him to give her up and continue down the dark path he had been treading before she had come back into his life.
He refused to do such a thing.
Shaia was his light. His love. For her, he would do anything.
Even use the darkness and embrace it again.
It was that need that was dragging it to the surface, a desperate need for strength and power that called on it and had him battling to recall his training so he could mould it into a weapon he could use to save her.
Hartt’s eyes leaped between his and he swallowed hard. “She came to find you. I did not know where you had gone, and when I told her that, she believed that she knew where to find you. Fuery… she teleported before I could stop her. I’m sorry…”
Fuery shook his head, gritted his teeth and growled again.
It wasn’t Hartt’s fault.
While he might have held it against the male just days ago, might have lost his grip on the darkness and attacked him for failing to protect his mate in his stead, allowing her to head out alone, he only blamed himself now.
Was only furious with himself.
He had been the one to leave her, not considering how upset she would be or what actions she might take as her need of him drove her to find him. He had been a fucking idiot, and now he had to live with what he had done.
He had to fix it.
“I was with Prince Vail,” he breathed and eased back, his hands shaking against his knees as he gripped them and tried to hold himself together, fighting to master the darkness and harness it. It was difficult when he danced on the cusp of madness, fear gripping him tightly, giving the darkness a strong hold on him too. He shook his head again. “She could not have known… does not know that place.”
“So where would she go?” Hartt squeezed his shoulders and his voice dropped lower, laced with the same desperation that flowed in his own blood. “Think, Fuery… where?”
The buzzing in his skull was too loud, drowning out his thoughts as he ran over everything that had happened, tried to piece together how she would have felt and where that would have taken her.
When he found no answer, he lifted his head and stared into Hartt’s eyes, desperately searching for one in them.
Hartt’s dark eyebrows dipped and he dropped his gaze to Fuery’s chest, looking straight through it, a thousand thoughts flittering across his eyes as his lips pulled into a grim line.
“I told her what I told you,” his friend whispered. “I mentioned you were shocked by it… and that I felt you teleport, and how rare that is for you.”
Because his powers were messed up, but his last teleport had felt more stable. He had felt in control, at least to a degree. He had been desperate, the key behind his ability to teleport working, but it had felt easier to call that power this time and open his portal.
Because of Shaia?
Because of the light that was growing inside him each second they were together?
He cursed as he considered where she might have gone.
“The elf kingdom.” He didn’t want to think about her there, back within her family’s grasp.
They would try to take her from him again.
He was damned if he was going to let it happen this time. Shaia wanted to be his, wanted to break free of the ties that bound her, the shackles of tradition, and she had been doing just that. He had felt how happy she had been to be away from the elf kingdom, to see a new place, and to be with him in it.
She had been free.
Unchained at last and able to seek the adventure she had always craved, without scorn or condemnation.
He pushed onto his feet and snarled as rage poured through him, determination that had his darkness growing stronger to swirl in his veins and blaze in his heart.
He would set her free again.
He would give her the life she wanted, would guide her in this new world and stand at her side through it all.
Power flowed through him, and the inky cold black swallowed him, rushing over the obsidian scales of his armour as it covered him from neck to toe. When the darkness dissipated, the gentle rustling of leaves reached his ears together with the steady babbling of the river. The scent of cool earth and water filled his senses and he breathed deep of it.
Stilled.
Shaia.
He caught her sweet scent and growled as he smelled others too.
Males.
He flicked his eyes open.
They settled straight on the tree where he had carved their initials after they had mated, and had vowed to always love her, to always be there for her.
To always protect her.
His eyes rapidly adjusted to the darkness and the world around him brightened to reveal the trunk of the tree and those initials, and the river that swept around the bend beyond it. His gaze dropped from their initials to the dirt at the roots of the tree and narrowed. It was scuffed. Disturbed.
His eyes drifted over the scene and then leaped back to a single point.
Something was there in the dirt beside one of the roots.
He stormed towards it, crouched when he reached the tree and snarled through his fangs as they emerged.
A dart.
The fury that had already been boiling in his veins was nothing compared with the red rage that descended on him, sweeping through him to burn every other emotion away. He snatched the fallen dart from the ground, seizing a fistful of earth with it, and growled as he shot to his feet. He uncurled his fist and stared at the dart, breathing hard as he wrestled with the black need to run, to tear apart this fucking kingdom to find his mate.
He closed his eyes and sucked down breath after breath in an attempt to steady himself. Rushing would get him nowhere. He needed to uncover as much information about what had happened as he could and remain rational if he was going to find Shaia.
Or as rational as he could be with his blood thundering, burning hot in his veins, and a fierce desperate need to find his beautiful mate driving him wild.
The darkness surged again, comforting him with the feel of its power flowing through him, strength that he was going to unleash on the bastards who had stolen his love from him.
He calmly brushed the dirt from around the dart, plucked it from his palm and lifted it to his nose, his entire body trembling with the force of his anger as he waged war against it.
Information. He needed information. A direction.
Something to go on.
He closed his eyes and sniffed the point of the dart.
It smelled sweet. Sickly sweet.
He took another breath and focused to calm his mind so he could determine which drug had laced the dart. He was familiar with many that could be used on such a weapon, although he had never stooped to using such a tool in his work.
He opened his eyes as it hit him, and relief poured through him, washing some of his anger away and restoring a sliver of hope.
It was a drug meant to render someone unconscious.
Shaia was alive.
The reason he couldn’t feel her through their bond was because she was still out cold.
He couldn’t bide his time and wait for her to come around though. He couldn’t stand still and do nothing. He needed to act, would go mad if he didn’t.
He scanned the ground around him and the tree, and growled as he saw footprints and two long grooves.
As if someone had been dragged across the earth.
Where had they taken Shaia?
His eyes followed the tracks from the tree and past him. He turned on his heel, vision growing sharper as he picked out the footprints in the low light. They led to a darker patch of earth. Someone had lit a fire there. His focus leaped to the logs scattered around the clearing as he walked towards the ring of scorched dirt. Whoever they were, they had tried to cover their tracks.
Tried and failed.
He crouched as he picked out a clear footprint and fingered it. Boots. Not army issue. He found another print nearby. Different to the one near him. This male had worn a boot with a heel. He spotted another clear set of prints and moved to it. The style of boot matched the first print. He measured them with his hand, huffed, and then scoured the camp to see if there were any more.
Three males had been here.
Shaia wouldn’t have stood a chance against them.
His face twisted in a dark snarl as he thought about his beautiful female fighting for her life and he consoled himself by looking back at the tree, at the place she had reached before the males had darted her. She hadn’t fought. Her footprints were few, starting at a point between the fire and the tree, and heading towards the trunk of it where she had passed out.
Had the males been waiting here to ambush her?
He scanned the camp again, the relief he had felt dissipating as he thought about where they might have taken her.
What they might do to her.
Fury rose again, a black and terrible rage that poured through his veins like acid and ink, pushing him to find her now before anything could happen to her.
His heart hitched as his eyes fell on the long grooves in the dirt.
His fingers curled into tight fists at his sides.
He would find her. He would protect her.
He would kill whoever had taken her.
The scuff marks led past the camp, into the thick woods that swathed the hill on this side of the river.
Heading towards the village.
The fury that had been building inside him rose to a violent boil as a possible location hit him.
It would be just like her family to do such a thing, hiring mercenaries to take his mate from him, attempting to push him out of her life again or convince her to do as they bid and wed a male of high standing.
They had never liked him.
It went both ways.
He hated them.
They were going to pay for what they had done. Shaia was his, and he wouldn’t leave without her. She wanted to be with him, and she would be. He would set her free and they would be together.
Forever.
He focused on his body, on his portal, and growled when it flickered over him and then faded. His breath sawed from his lips as he shook, his head spinning from the exertion of attempting to teleport again. Too much. He wasn’t used to using the ability anymore, and he had already teleported twice in the past hour, and a third time before that to reach Vail’s home.
It wasn’t going to stop him though.
He might not have the strength to teleport, but he still had enough left to reach Shaia.
He kicked off, throwing up dust as he sprinted from the clearing and into the woods. Branches whipped his armour and lashed at his face as he crashed through the trees, heading up the hill. Startled animals broke cover in all directions, fleeing deeper into the woods as he sped past them.
The trees thinned ahead.
He didn’t slow as he crashed through them and out into the meadow. He pushed himself harder, sprinting faster, driving himself past his limit as his muscles burned. He couldn’t slow. Not until Shaia was back in his arms.
He raced across the dark lands, down into the valley where a pale streak snaking between the hills marked the road into the village.
The burning in his muscles grew fiercer, but he kept pushing, kept running, refusing to give in even as fatigue swept through him and had his head turning. Sweat trickled down his spine beneath his skin-tight armour and crawled over his scalp. He shoved his hand over his long hair, slicking it back from his face as a cool breeze swept down the side of the hill and over him.
His boots skidded as he hit the road and he kicked right. His right hand touched the pale dirt and then he was running again, long strides devouring the distance between him and the village. His heart lightened as he spotted the windmills towering on the hills above the village, and then golden lights that marked the houses.
“I’m coming, Shaia,” he breathed and pushed harder, his body screaming in protest but his heart driving him to go faster still.
Shaia needed him.
He reached the village and caught the curious looks on a few of the faces of those out on the streets as he blazed a trail through it, following the road to the square and then taking the left fork as it split into two.
He was close now.
He hit the final hill, his legs burning, thousands of flaming needles piercing his muscles and bones with each stride. When he reached the top of it, and the elegant large stone two-storey grey stone house came into view, golden light illuminating several of the ground floor windows, relief mingled with hope eased the ache in his heart but stoked his rage so it burned white-hot.
Her family would pay for taking her from him.
Fuery bolted down the hill, making fast work of the distance between him and the house, and didn’t stop when he reached the door. He dipped his right shoulder and barged through it, splintering the wood and tearing a startled shriek from a female on the other side.
The servant dropped her tray. It clattered on the polished stone floor, the sound loud in the double-height vestibule, clashing with that of crystal smashing as the goblets that had been poised on it hit the ground and shattered.
“Elys!” A high female voice snapped.
Fuery’s head whipped towards the source of it and he called his black katana to his right hand.
The owner of that voice stormed out of the room to his left, her black-blue hair neatly swept up and held in thick twisted curls and her deep violet dress cinched at her waist with a corset of fine filigreed gold.
The maid bowed her head, quickly stooped and began gathering the broken crystal.
The older female’s gaze slowly shifted towards Fuery.
Widened.
“Aylen.” Her voice trembled as she took him in, enormous violet eyes dropping to the blade he clutched.
The male she had summoned appeared behind her, his dark green tunic with fine gold embroidery on the two long panels in front of his thighs a rich contrast to her dress. His violet eyes went equally as wide on seeing Fuery and he paled a little.
“What have you done with her?” Fuery snarled and advanced on them.
The maid stopped her work and stared at him, and then her mistress as the older female signalled to her with her left hand. He paid no attention to the servant as she quickly left the room, keeping his focus fixed on the couple in front of him.
Shaia’s parents.
His fingers flexed around the hilt of his sword and fire burned in his heart, blazed in his soul as their cruel words echoed in his mind, every vicious thing they had ever said about him battering him as he stared at them and fought the urge to cut them down.
The darkness pushed him to do it. Life would be easier without them. Shaia would be his. No one would try to take her from him ever again.
Gods, he wanted that.
He wanted to cut them down and watch them bleed. He wanted to be the last thing they saw. He wanted to make them pay for hurting him, denying him.
He would move Heaven, Earth and Hell to save Shaia. Would do anything, no matter the cost. He would kill, sacrifice others, or himself. Whatever was necessary, so long as Shaia lived and was free again.
“Monster,” her mother spat.
Fuery growled at her and tried to deny the pain that stabbed through his chest on hearing that word, on seeing the contempt in her eyes, and the disgust.
He was well aware of his appearance.
Darkness reigned in his eyes, and he was sure his pupils were on the verge of turning elliptical, and his irises in danger of gaining a crimson glow.
But he didn’t care.
All that mattered was Shaia, and if he had to condemn himself to the abyss in order to save her, then he would do it.
“Where is she?” he bit out, and advanced another step.
Aylen’s hand came down on the female’s shoulder. “What is it to you?”
He growled as pain suddenly filled him, colliding with fear that stole his breath and had his knees weakening beneath him.
“Shaia,” he breathed and clutched at his chest with his left hand, digging sharp claws in as he struggled to breathe and tamp down the raw agony flowing through him. He snarled and lifted his black eyes to Aylen. “Tell me what you’ve done with her. I know it was you… you set a band of mercenaries on your own damned daughter!”
Gods, the pain.
He swallowed against it and gritted his teeth. It felt as if someone was pulling him apart, piece by agonising piece. He needed to find her. He needed to take away her pain and her fear, before it destroyed him.
Before it destroyed her.
“I will fucking end you both if you do not give her back!” he roared, and the couple flinched in unison, her mother backing into her father.
Her eyes filled with tears. “What do you mean… mercenaries?”
He refused to believe the worry that shone in her violet gaze as she turned her cheek to him and gazed up at her male. He refused to believe the fear that reflected in Aylen’s eyes as he wrapped one arm around her and tucked her closer to him.
“Do not listen to him, Sarea. I am sure Shaia is fine, at home where she belongs.” The male rubbed his hand against her shoulder, and Fuery didn’t miss the way she tensed and glanced at him.
She was hiding something.
He focused on her, a monumental feat considering his mood was rapidly degenerating and the darkness rising, consuming more of him by the second and filling his mind with beautiful images of bloodying his blade and painting the walls of this house crimson.
It took all of his effort, but he managed to lock his senses on her and he growled as he felt something from her.
Fear.
Not fear for her daughter, nor fear of what he might do to her.
Fear born of nerves that told him that he was right and she was hiding something and she feared him finding out what it was.
“Our servant will be at the castle by now, and they will bring a legion back with them.” Aylen’s words had no effect on Fuery.
“Fuck the soldiers,” he snarled and delighted in the horror that crossed their faces. “The kingdom could send one hundred legions and I still wouldn’t leave… not until you tell me what you did with Shaia. You know where she is.”
He readied his blade and advanced another step, the thought of battling soldiers sending him sinking deeper into the darkness and conjuring a need to feel pain and deal blows, to tear flesh and shatter bone. Gods, he needed it. He needed to fight. He needed to taste blood on his tongue. Needed to kill.
He froze when he sensed the air shimmer behind him.
Braced himself for the coming battle.
Turned as his foes appeared, prepared to kill them all.
His eyes landed on two males.
One with dishevelled finger-length blue-black hair that brushed the collar of his obsidian armour, and one with neatly-trimmed short hair that was swept back from his face and matched the colour of his fine tailored tunic that had elegant scrollwork edging the two sides where they joined in the centre of his torso and flowed down to his knees.
Fuery’s eyes instantly dropped to his own boots.
Prince Loren.
“What is happening?” The prince took a hard step forwards, radiating anger that had Fuery fighting to find his voice so he could answer him.
Loren’s eyes shifted away from him as Aylen spoke.
“This creature intends to attack us.”
Loren was silent and the air in the room grew heavy around Fuery as he battled with himself, memories of a time long past tormenting him, a collision of the handful of moments he had been in Prince Loren’s presence that took him from the day he had enlisted in the army to a night recently when he had gone with Hartt to rescue Harbin, one of their assassins, from the cells of Archangel, a mortal hunter organisation.
He had crossed paths with Prince Loren twice that night, and had discovered that Prince Vail was alive.
He tensed as Loren’s gaze came back to rest on him.
“I was speaking to Commander Fuery.”
His eyes leaped to the male, and then to his left, to the one his prince had brought with him. Bleu. They had been close once, millennia ago. He had taken Bleu under his wing and had trained him, helped him ascend through the ranks of the legion, partly because he had known the male hailed from the same village as Shaia and partly because he had liked the spunky youth and his attitude towards life—one that had said he could achieve whatever he wanted as long as he worked hard enough.
Bleu nodded, offering silent encouragement that Fuery seized with both hands.
He couldn’t bring himself to meet Prince Loren’s gaze though, not when his eyes were near-black and he was finding it impossible to bring his darkness under control. The need to find Shaia, the pain and fear he could feel through their bond, kept the darkness boiling in his veins, whispering tempting words in his mind about cutting down anyone who stood in his way.
He needed to reach her.
Losing himself to the darkness in the presence of Prince Loren would be a grave mistake though, one that might end with the male calling in a death squad to deal with him, so he kept fighting it, chanting calming things in his mind to drive it back.
Until he needed it again.
He would unleash it then, would let it all out and not hold back.
He would kill whoever had hurt Shaia.
“Shaia,” he started and swallowed hard as he pictured her, thought about how frightened she must have been when the males had attacked her, and how afraid she was now as she waited for him to save her. “She returned here believing she could find me, but I was with… your brother.”
Prince Loren’s gaze grew more intense, piercing his face, and he could almost sense the male’s need to ask about his kin.
“When I came to the kingdom, I found a dart and signs of a fight. Three males have her. Three I am convinced were hired by these people. Sarea knows where she is and will not tell me.” He growled as the need to find Shaia blasted through him again, shaking the hold he had on his darker urges. “They mean to keep her from me… when I know she wants to be with me.”
He risked a glance at Prince Loren.
The male’s clear violet eyes grew stormy and he turned them on the couple behind Fuery. “Is it true you meant to keep Commander Fuery from Shaia?”
“She is to mate with a male more worthy of her. One she is promised to,” Sarea snapped.
Fuery saw red.
He turned on his heel and snarled at her through his fangs as her fear suddenly made sense. She was afraid he would find Shaia before the male who had hired the mercenaries could force her to wed him.
Loren’s hand on his shoulder held him back.
He looked across at the male as he passed him.
The male’s black eyebrows dipped low over stormy eyes, ones that flashed with lightning as he directed his anger at the couple.
“Do you believe the rank of commander, a rank not bestowed lightly and one earned rather than inherited, is not a worthy rank to possess?” The air in the room seemed to darken as Prince Loren halted before Shaia’s parents and fear flitted across both of their faces.
Bleu growled in a low voice, “Weigh your answer carefully.”
Sarea’s mouth flapped open and closed. Aylen rubbed his hand across the back of his neck and looked at anything other than Prince Loren, him or Bleu.
Fuery haemorrhaged patience so fast he thought he might pass out, so he opened his mouth to demand the bastards tell him what had happened to Shaia and where she was now.
Loren stunned him into silence, and almost knocked Shaia’s parents on their backsides, when he spoke.
“Why do you mean to keep your daughter from her mate of forty-two centuries?”
He knew?
Fuery whipped his gaze to Loren and stared at the back of his head as he remained facing her family.
“I am aware of your shock,” Loren said. “I met Shaia at the palace some days ago and learned of her situation when she sought advice from me about her bond.”
She must have gone to speak with Bleu and had somehow ended up talking to Prince Loren instead, asking him about why she had believed Fuery dead and why he had thought he had killed her, and why they had both been unaware of their bond, believing it gone when it had still been alive inside them, tying them together.
Aylen and Sarea looked from Loren to him.
“It is true,” he said, somehow managing to keep the darkness from his voice as the pressing need to find Shaia battered him. He clawed back patience, aware that if he could hold on a little longer, there was a chance they might break and tell him where to find her. “I am bound to Shaia and have been for four thousand two hundred years. We sealed our bond the night before I left for the borders of the free realm with the legion. She is mine, and I am hers.”
“So the matter seems rather resolved to me.” Prince Loren’s tone brooked no argument as he released Fuery’s shoulder. “Commander Fuery has every right to know where his blood-bonded mate is being held… against her will.”
Sarea paled and looked as if she might have slumped to the floor had Aylen not tightened his hold on her.
“We were not aware,” Aylen said, his voice steady despite the fear Fuery could see in his eyes and smell on him. “Neither were we aware of any plan to capture her. Eirwyn was distraught when she went missing. He might have…”
Fuery cut him off with a snarl. “Eirwyn?”
The bastard was the son of the late Commander Andon who had taken Fuery under his wing. Eirwyn had always despised him, jealous of the attention his father had given him. He had been a scrawny youth the last time Fuery had seen him at his family’s mansion, before his father had died in a war with the Fourth King of the demons. More than once, he had made his feelings about Fuery clear.
And more than once, he had mentioned taking Shaia as his bride when he was older.
Fuery was fucking damned if that was going to happen.
“I know the place.” Bleu grabbed his arm before he could move an inch and darkness descended, cold that chased over his skin and seemed to seep through the tiny gaps between the scales of his armour.
He shuddered as he landed outside the grand mansion on the other side of the village with Bleu and Prince Loren, and rubbed his hands over his arms.
“Is my brother well?” Loren had barely appeared before he asked that, his violet eyes bright with a need to know the answer to his question.
Fuery wanted to growl, wanted to snarl and tell the male that he was here to fight, to reclaim his mate and free her, not make idle talk, but he bit his tongue and found a shred of civility that the darkness hadn’t managed to eradicate yet.
“He is well. Better than I. He has been helping me.” When Fuery glanced at Bleu, he saw relief in the male’s eyes.
He remembered Bleu being there in Vail and Rosalind’s garden the first time he had gone to see his prince. He had needed to see Vail, and had been drawn to him and hadn’t been able to hold himself back from going to him. To this day, he still wasn’t sure how he had known where to find Vail. The darkness that always came over him on the anniversary of the day Vail had turned on his legion and made himself into an enemy of the kingdom was strong and often left him unaware of the things he did.
It had been that day that had brought him back to Vail, centuries after they had parted on the very same day.
“You seem a little better too.” Was that relief he could hear in Bleu’s voice?
He didn’t dare believe it, but when he looked into the male’s eyes, he saw it there. He nodded and turned away, feeling awkward as both males scrutinised him, as if they were trying to chart how deep his darkness ran now so they could see if he was any better the next time their paths crossed.
It seemed Vail wasn’t the only one who wanted to see it was possible to come back from the darkness.
He faced the door of the mansion and blew out his breath.
While he had been making progress towards the light again thanks to Prince Vail and Shaia, he was about to take a huge step away from it.
It would be worth it though.
Gods, it would be worth it.
He lifted his boot and kicked the door open, and stormed into the mansion as Loren muttered behind him.
“He could have knocked.”
Bleu grunted. “Would you knock if he had Olivia?”
“I would tear the fucking building apart stone by stone,” Loren growled and prowled into the mansion behind Fuery.
It was as if Loren had read his mind. Fuery’s dark eyes scoured the unlit vestibule of the mansion, his ears twitching as he strained to hear anyone so much as breathing in it. His heart laboured as he fought the urge to begin ripping everything apart, destroying all that Eirwyn held dear in an effort to draw the bastard out of hiding.
He could hear the fucker’s heart beating in the distance above him.
Drawing closer.
A light appeared at the top of the balcony that ran around all four sides of the vestibule, the candle flickering in the darkness, illuminating a male’s face.
Eirwyn.
Fuery bared his fangs on a low growl. “What have you done with her?”
Eirwyn tilted his chin up and glared down at him. “Done with who?”
“Don’t fucking test me.” Fuery took a hard step towards the arrogant male, hungry with a need to wipe the imperious look away by gripping his long hair and pummelling his face with his fist.
Bleu moved up to stand beside him, and Fuery shot him a glare, daring him to try to hold him back and stop him.
Eirwyn casually leaned over the elegant wooden balustrade, resting his right elbow on it and causing his ponytail to fall over his left shoulder to brush his bare chest. “Commander Bleu. It is a surprise to see you again. I assume you have come to escort this male away?”
Bleu rolled his shoulders in an easy shrug. “Probably not. Depends on how things go. If you tell him what you’ve done with his mate, then I might stop him from killing you.”
“His mate?” Eirwyn’s left eyebrow rose.
“Shaia,” Fuery bit out. “What have you done with Shaia? I know you think she is promised to you. You cannot have her, because she is mine and has always been mine. She is my mate.”
“Ludicrous,” Eirwyn scoffed, and then his eyes slowly widened as Loren stepped out from beneath the balcony, coming into the sphere of the candlelight.
“I assure you, it is the truth. If you know where Shaia is, it would be wise to tell us.” Prince Loren stared the male down, and a flicker of nerves began to show in his eyes.
Fuery locked onto them as he scoured the building with his senses, searching it for a sign of Shaia. Only four heartbeats came to him, and he growled when he couldn’t scent her in the mansion either.
Or on Eirwyn.
Either the male hadn’t been in contact with her, or he had scrubbed himself clean after he had, erasing any trace of her scent.
Eirwyn gathered himself and calmly straightened, turned to his right and slowly descended the stairs. Fuery tracked him, keeping a close eye on him, refusing to let him get the jump on him. He turned slowly as the male rounded the curve in the staircase, shifting so his back was to the entrance and Loren. Eirwyn stopped on the bottom step, his face fixed in a concerned expression that didn’t fool Fuery.
“What happened to Shaia?” He leaned right and rested the candle on the flat top of the broad pillar at the bottom of the banisters. “I swear, I have not seen her. She disappeared weeks ago and her parents have been frantic. I have been frantic.”
Lies.
Eirwyn knew where she was.
He might not have seen her yet, but he knew what had happened to her. Fuery could see it in the bastard’s eyes as the male tried hard to hide it from him. The smugness shone through though, eclipsing the fake worry for brief flickers, revealing it to Fuery. He knew where Shaia was, and couldn’t contain his elation, his excitement at taking her from Fuery and having something he wanted.
Prince Loren moving snapped Fuery out of thoughts of tearing into the male and slowly clawing through his chest until the male gave up her location or died.
“We will find her, Fuery,” Loren whispered, his deep voice smooth and calm, comforting him as it swept through him and pushed the darkness out enough that he could scrape together a modicum of control over it. The male approached him, and stopped close to him, genuine concern in his clear eyes, mingled with hope and determination. “You can use your bond with her to locate her. It is stronger now, yes?”
He nodded. It was, but he didn’t dare hope he could use it to find her. He could feel her pain and her fear, but the desperate need to find her had his darkness at the helm, and it was drowning out the light inside him.
“Focus on your bond,” Loren murmured. “Close your eyes and focus on Shaia and the connection that links you together.”
He did as instructed and felt Eirwyn move. Bleu was between them in a heartbeat, blocking the male’s path to him.
“Focus.” Loren placed his hand against the back of Fuery’s neck.
Darkness surged through him in response and Fuery turned and knocked his hand away. “Don’t.”
As much as he wanted Prince Loren to use his connection to nature to aide him with locating Shaia, he couldn’t let him do it. He didn’t want to taint the male, and he knew the prince would feel the darkness in him, would be affected by it. Vail would never forgive him if he passed this terrible disease to his beloved brother.
Loren nodded. “Very well. I shall not.”
When the male lowered his hand, Fuery closed his eyes again and tried to focus. The roar in his mind and in his veins was too loud though, the darkness writhing and wild with a need to shed blood, break bone and carve flesh. He frowned and pushed, attempting to focus through it, and felt a glimmer of Shaia’s pain, saw a flash of the red ribbon that connected them, and then it was gone.
The darkness was too strong, denying him as it fought against the light his bond with Shaia created in him, clouding their link so he couldn’t find her.
Fuery flicked his eyes open and settled them on Eirwyn.
Centuries of life as an assassin had taught him to read people.
The male knew where Shaia was.
Centuries of life as an assassin had taught him to see all the possible moves a mark would make and pick the one they would choose and use it to his advantage.
The male would meet with the mercenaries to take his prize from them.
When it happened, Fuery would be there, ready to strike.
Right now, he needed to give Eirwyn a reason to believe he would no longer be a threat to him and he could meet with the mercenaries without interference and claim his bride.
On a roar, he launched at Eirwyn, managing to rake his claws down the male’s bare chest before Bleu tackled him as predicted, taking him down in a tangle of limbs and pinning him to the cold stone floor.
Eirwyn spluttered, his face red with rage. “Imprison that animal.”
Loren looked as if he didn’t want to do it.
Hope fled Fuery’s heart.
Bleu eased back and looked down at him, and Fuery shifted his gaze to him. The moment their eyes locked, Bleu began wrestling with him, jostling him as he grabbed Fuery’s wrists and moved them, making it appear as if he was fighting him.
“Calm down,” Bleu snarled and his eyes widened, just a brief flash of white around his irises as he gave Fuery a pointed look and raised his voice again. “I said calm down!”
Realisation swept through Fuery like a blinding sunrise.
He growled and fought Bleu’s hold, managed to break one arm free of his grip and slammed his fist into the male’s face, knocking him sideways.
Bleu scowled at him as blood pooled at the corner of his lips. “You left me no choice. It’s the cells for you.”
He teleported.
Fuery dropped into the darkness with him, and landed in the courtyard of the castle with Bleu still astride him.
Prince Loren appeared a second later. “What in the gods’ names is going on?”
Bleu rose onto his feet, grabbed Fuery’s wrist and pulled him onto his. “You had better be right about this… because Eirwyn’s brother is one of my subordinates and I don’t want to have to explain to Leif that we were hunting his brother if it turns out you’re wrong. He’ll give me hell for years.”
The way he said that made it sound as if Leif would be supportive of their actions if it turned out he was right though.
Leif sounded like his father, Andon, noble and courageous, a male who did the right thing and followed the law to the letter in order to maintain the reputation of their family and avoid tarnishing their name.
“The male hired the mercenaries.” Fuery dusted himself down, hands trembling as he used the small task as something to focus on so he could gather himself and push back against the darkness. Losing his shit in the middle of the castle courtyard would be a death sentence. While Prince Loren seemed fine with the tainted, most of the occupants of the castle were not and they would call for his head. “I’m sure of it. He despises me because his father had a soft spot for me and he wants to take what is mine. He knew I had feelings for Shaia, and told me several times that he was going to wed her. He wanted to spite me.”
Loren looked to Bleu.
Bleu shrugged. “It sounds reasonable. I met him once with Shaia when I was taking Taryn to meet my parents. Taryn remarked that the male had the same look in his eyes that she gets whenever she sees treasure. Having seen the way her brother looked at the sword, I can see what she meant. It was a little too possessive, and not in a good way. Eirwyn thinks that Shaia will achieve him something, and I’m guessing it’s power. It’s always fucking power with these nobles.”
A passing well-dressed male scowled at Bleu. Bleu shot him a black look that challenged him to say something. The male huffed, turned his nose up and kept walking.
Fuery had to agree with Bleu.
“Whenever Eirwyn had spoken of marrying Shaia, he had said nothing about love and everything about what it would gain him.” A fact Fuery wanted to growl over, because Shaia deserved to be loved, cherished, not treated as a possession. “He wants power, standing, and taking Shaia as his bride would gain him that. She is the sole heir in her family’s bloodline. With no male to inherit it, marrying her would pass that power on to him, and would help him ascend in rank.”
Loren let out a low groan. “Nobles.”
It sounded strange coming from a prince.
“The thought he would use someone to bring himself one step closer to me is… well…” Loren trailed off and looked to Bleu.
“Fucking sickening?” Bleu offered, a half smile dancing on his lips. “We could dispatch a legion to deal with him. Leif might want to head it and deal with his brother before the male can tarnish their precious name.”
“No.” Fuery gripped Bleu’s arm and shook his head. “I will deal with him. If you go in now, we might never find Shaia. I can’t… I need to find her.”
Bleu nodded, and Loren followed suit.
“You have a plan?” Loren said, concern flickering in his eyes, warning Fuery that if it didn’t sound like a good one, the male might send a legion after all.
This time, Fuery nodded.
“Now that he thinks you’re going to lock me up and I’m no longer a threat, he will go to them.” He held the prince’s gaze, hiding nothing from him as the darkness surged in response to the thought of what was to come. “He will lead me right to her.”
And then Fuery was going to kill him.