CHAPTER 5
Shaia shifted foot to foot in the dark-walled corridor, her thick brown leather boots silent on the polished black flagstones beneath her feet. She drew down one breath and then another, trying to settle her racing heart as she waited. She licked her lips and rubbed her damp palms on her trousers, and blew out another breath.
It had taken her almost half a lunar cycle to reach this point, and she was tired, and a little afraid.
More than a little afraid.
Was this truly the place where Fuery now lived?
Was he really alive?
The thought of seeing him again had her trembling, her nerves threatening to get the better of her and stirring thoughts of leaving. She had done so on her first attempt to uncover whether Fuery resided in the monstrous black gothic building in the middle of a town in the central region of the free realm. She hadn’t even reached the imposing arched entrance before she had lost her nerve and had scurried back to her small room at an inn at the other end of the bustling town.
She flexed her fingers and shook them, trying to stop them from trembling, and sucked down another breath.
This had to be the place.
The shifter in charge of the first assassin guild she had found in the free realm had been swift to usher her out and point her in the direction of this one when she had revealed the reason she had wanted to meet with him.
Apparently, just the mention of Fuery’s name was enough to have a grown male, and powerful hellcat shifter, blanching and sweating.
He had look terrified.
What terrible things had Fuery been doing in their time apart to build himself such a fearsome reputation?
She took to pacing the broad corridor, working off some energy as she waited. Gods, she had been here for hours now, surely? The male she had meant to be meeting, the leader of this guild, had exited the room at the end of the hallway to her left in a hurry, the loud slam of the door hitting the wall as it opened startling her.
That had been almost fifteen minutes ago now.
Maybe he wasn’t coming back.
Just as she thought that, the male appeared at the end of the corridor and she finally got a good look at him.
An elf.
Her heart beat harder, faster, and her nerves rose again, undoing all of her hard work.
If an elf led this guild, perhaps this was the place after all.
Was Fuery here?
The male muttered things under his breath as he stormed towards her, pushing long fingers through his short blue-black hair, ploughing furrows in it as a black tunic, trousers and boots materialised over his slender body to replace the armour he wore.
Had he rushed from his office to fight someone?
Had someone come to harm his assassins?
The thought that she might have been in danger sent a surge of adrenaline through her veins and she looked towards the end of the corridor beyond him, a vision of a battle forming in her mind.
Gods.
It was all a little exciting.
And perhaps a touch terrifying.
When the male neared, she carefully smoothed her hair back beneath the black hood of her cloak, making sure the length of it remained hidden. She had tied it back, and she was sure some males had long hair like hers, but she didn’t want to give this male any reason to turn her away before speaking with her.
In order to move easily, and unmolested, through the free realm, she had strapped down her breasts with bandages before dressing in a drab dark grey tunic and pair of tan trousers that she had stolen from one of the male servants of her parents’ household. She had paired them with her black travelling cloak, and had managed to make it across the free realm, and even through the interview with the hellcat, without rousing suspicion.
Her disguise was amazing.
No one suspected she was female.
The elf male lifted his violet eyes and they widened, as if he had only just noticed her.
“This is no place for a female… not right now. Leave,” he barked in a mortal language and strode past her, leaving her standing in the corridor staring in shock at the other end of it.
She looked down at herself.
Or at least she had thought her disguise was amazing.
“Wait,” she said and slipped into the office before he could slam the door in her face.
He huffed, narrowed his eyes on her and muttered in the elf tongue, “Your funeral.”
“Why?” she responded in the same tongue, and he swiftly turned to face her, his eyes narrowing further.
“What the hell is an elf female doing away from the kingdom?” He was quick to shut the door behind her, and she didn’t miss the way he peered into the corridor to check it before he closed it.
Was he worried someone would see her?
“I am looking for someone.” She pushed her hood back, and his expression only blackened.
“Go home. We deal in death here, not the lost.” He jerked his chin towards the door, rounded the large ebony desk in the centre of his office, and slumped into the black leather chair on the other side, a sigh escaping him as he sank into it.
He looked frazzled, worn down, and pale.
What had happened in the span of time between him leaving his office and returning? Whatever it had been, it had clearly drained his strength. His hand shook as he tugged a drawer on the right side of his desk open, fumbled around and pulled out a metal canister.
Blood.
He unscrewed the cap and the air filled with the tinny tempting scent of it as he drank deep from it. She had taken blood a few times, when it had been called for, needing it to replenish her strength. Her stomach rumbled, the hunger she had been denying over the past few days rising back to the fore. A sip of blood would be enough to restore her lost strength, and would achieve it far quicker than consuming food.
But the taste of blood reminded her of that day millennia ago, when it had been Fuery’s on her tongue, slipping down her throat, replenishing that which he was taking from her, forming an eternal cycle between them.
And it hurt, the pain so intense she always felt as if she couldn’t breathe, as if it would kill her.
When the male lowered the canister from his lips, he sighed again and leaned back in his chair.
His violet eyes slid towards her. “You’re still here?”
She nodded, hesitated for only a heartbeat, and then stepped towards him, approaching the desk as she pushed away her painful memories and forced herself to focus on the future. On Fuery.
“You say you do not deal in the lost, but I have heard differently.” She resisted the temptation to twist her hands together in front of her, determined not to make herself appear weak in front of this male.
His eyes narrowed again.
She cleared her parched throat, and did her best not to fidget as her nerves rose, her heart slamming against her ribs.
“I have heard the someone I am seeking is here.” She weathered his glare as he sat up and slammed the canister down on the surface of his desk.
“So go and find them, and stop bothering me,” he growled.
“I will… if you would be so kind as to point me in his direction.” Her voice warbled and she cleared her throat again, afraid he might view her nerves as a weakness and use it against her in some way. “His name is… Fuery.”
His handsome face darkened.
“No. Leave.” He slammed his palms into his desk, causing the canister to topple and roll towards the edge of the dark wooden surface, and shot to his feet.
She jumped, her heart leaping into her throat, and swallowed hard as she staggered back a step.
So Fuery was here, and this male didn’t want her to see him. Why?
Was he that dangerous?
She focused on the building, on everyone in it, trying to find Fuery among the males she could scent. When she couldn’t feel him, she pressed her hands to her chest and focused on the connection they had once shared, expecting to feel something.
Nothing.
Tears lined her eyes as a voice in her heart whispered the male she longed to see again wasn’t here after all.
No.
He had to be here.
She studied the male opposite her, and caught the flicker of concern in his violet eyes, an emotion that told her that Fuery was here, somewhere in this hellish place, and the male knew him well.
Was worried about him.
“You cannot see him. I do not know what business a female has with Fuery, but I do know that it will not end well for him… so you will leave.” His tone, so dark and menacing, left little room for her to argue.
She did it anyway.
“No. I am not leaving without seeing him. I will not be told what to do… not anymore. I have spent four thousand years mourning Fuery… believing him dead.” Her strength wavered and her voice grew quiet as emotions bombarded her, feelings that had been tormenting her from the moment Bleu had told her Fuery was alive. She stared down at the desk, lost and adrift in those emotions. “I do not understand how that came to be… I should have been able to feel he was alive through our bond.”
The male went deathly still.
“Bond?” His deep voice was low, cautious.
She risked a glance at him, and found him staring at her, his eyes wide and lips parted, surprise painted across his face.
She nodded slowly. “Fuery is my fated one. My mate.”
Gods, when was the last time she had said those words?
She stared at the male before her, numb to her bones as she let them sink in, together with the fact this male clearly knew Fuery, confirming what Bleu had told her.
Her mate was alive.
Her knees trembled, feeling suddenly weak as it swept over her, and she had to lock them to stop them from giving out and sending her to the stone floor.
Gods, he was alive.
Tears burned her eyes, pain blazed in her soul, and she reached for the connection that should have existed between her and her love.
But it wasn’t there.
“Your name?” the male said, his tone hard and unyielding. A command.
“Shaia,” she breathed, and the way his eyes widened again said that he knew that name. Her name.
He paled further, swallowed hard as he glanced at the door behind her, and then set his jaw. “Leave.”
Why?
His eyes leaped between her and the door, and she detected his fear. It was buried but there, running through him and slowly growing stronger together with other feelings. Worry. Anger.
His violet gaze finally settled on her again, and his eyes danced between hers, searching them as he stood silently on the other side of the desk, gripped by whatever thoughts were running through his mind.
Thoughts about Fuery?
“Please?” she whispered and inched towards him. If he could feel her feelings as she could feel his, then he had to know that she needed to see Fuery. She needed to know her mate was alive, even if he was unwell. “I have trekked for days… I am tired and I will not believe Fuery lives until I see him with my own eyes. I need to see him.”
“No,” he bit out and rounded the desk. He didn’t stop until he was toe-to-toe with her and towering over her, his face dark as he glared down at her. “Fuery is alive. You will have to take my word for it though. He is not strong enough to see you right now. It is best you return to the elf kingdom. I will send for you when I feel Fuery might be ready.”
No. She wasn’t going to accept that as an answer.
“I told you… I will not be ordered around, not anymore. I will see Fuery. He is my mate and you cannot keep me from him.” She stood her ground when he growled at her, flashing short fangs, even though she wanted to back off a step and place herself out of harm’s way.
This male wasn’t like the ones she was used to dealing with—refined and noble, one who strictly adhered to the rules of society and the laws of their kind, unlikely to strike her or hurt her because of them.
He was a killer.
She could see it in his eyes as they narrowed, could feel it in the fierce drumming of her heart behind her breastbone and the instincts that he awakened that whispered to her, warning her to run now, while she still could.
“And I told you, I will not let you see him,” he hissed in a low voice, one that sent a cold shiver through her. He paused and regarded her with icy, clinical eyes, and then a tight smile curled his lips and a chill skated down her spine. “If you want to see him, track him with your bond.”
She frowned at him as hurt lanced her, a fiery brand that seared her soul and marked it.
His cruel smile widened. “Bound and young, no doubt… uneducated about how a connection between mates works.”
She glared at him now, but he didn’t relent or apologise. He remained cold and distant, intent on wounding her when she was already bleeding.
“If you wish to see Fuery, prove to me you understand the power of a bond.” He stepped closer to her, forcing her to tip her head back to keep her eyes locked with his, stoking the urge to flee that was rising inside her together with shame that felt as if it might swallow her. He sneered down at her. “Tell me where you went wrong with Fuery, and prove to me you will not make the same mistake again…”
His tone darkened, turned so glacial that another chill swept through her, this one freezing her soul.
“Because your mistake has cost Fuery greatly.”
She staggered back a step from that blow, blinked and stared at him as tears blurred her vision and she felt that strike cleave her heart in two and cut clean down to her soul. She didn’t understand, but some part of her knew it was the truth. His words clawed at her, shredding her insides, and she struggled for the words she wanted to say, her voice failing her as she fought to deny it.
His violet eyes brightened.
His lips flattened.
The aura of darkness he emanated grew blacker, warning her away as her senses screamed that she was in danger here. He meant to hurt her.
He did.
But with more words that lashed at her.
“Leave,” he ground out, little more than a growl as his ears flared back, the tips growing more pointed as anger swept across his features and laced his scent. “And do not come back until you can tell me all of that, because from where I am standing, it looks as if my bond with Fuery has more meaning and purpose than yours ever did.”
Shaia stumbled back another step towards the door, a shiver rushing over her arms and down her back, shock sending her mind and heart reeling, and tears spilling onto her cheeks.
The male grabbed her arm in a bruising grip before she could respond, yanked the door open and marched her along the corridor. She staggered along behind him, her ears ringing as she struggled to take in everything that had just happened and pull herself together.
When she had finally managed to gather herself, she was stood outside the guild, the doors closed in front of her, and the people passing by were staring at her, whispering things about her.
Shaia stared blankly at the arched wooden doors, the male’s words swimming around her mind, and the truth in them tearing at her heart.
Together with his anger.
He blamed her for Fuery’s condition.
She hadn’t been prepared for that, had come here believing she would see Fuery again and somehow everything would work out and he would welcome her back into his life.
Instead, she had been kicked out.
Told to return when she knew where she had gone wrong.
Had she gone wrong somewhere?
Her stomach squirmed as she considered that question, and the undeniable answer that immediately sprang into her mind.
She had.
She had felt something through the bond, and then it had gone silent, and she had assumed Fuery was gone, taken from her too soon. She had mourned him for centuries, had thought about him constantly, yet their bond had always remained empty, a hollow space inside her that had ripped at her every day of her life.
Shaia took a hard step towards the door as the shock of being turned away so cruelly faded and anger rose to take its place, and stopped herself before she could raise a hand to bang on the wood and demand entrance.
The male was right.
She had believed Fuery dead because something had happened to their bond.
Something that the male believed should have been obvious to her.
If she had known more about bonds, and how they worked, as the male clearly did, she might have been able to find Fuery four thousand years ago.
She might have been able to stop him from becoming lost.
The male’s words echoing in her head grew more vicious, taunting her with her failings, until an ache started in her chest, and it birthed a need to find out where she had gone wrong. She hadn’t abandoned Fuery as the male clearly thought, but she had condemned him because of her lack of knowledge.
He was right about that.
But she would learn, somehow, and she would return and tell him where she had gone wrong, and assure him it would never happen again.
And he would let her see Fuery.