CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Now if I was a sneaky wolf, where would I hide the crown of a forgotten Fae queen?
Elena brushed her finger along the spines of thick volumes, wondering if any of the locals had noticed when their library closed or if magic made them forget all about it.
A hint of something, like an echo of magic, lingered in the room. If her own magic wasn’t locked down, it would be easier to identify. The faint imprint was distinctly different than the whisper of ancient magic that pulled at her, yet familiar somehow.
But puzzling that mystery out would have to wait until later. There was no way of knowing how long she had until Vaughn checked on her and realized she was gone.
She’d spooked him.
She might have been half buzzed at the time and coming down off another encounter with the Iron Queen, but she’d seen the look on his face as it dawned on him that she knew the truth about their connection. Knew that she was his mate.
She’d waited for him to say something, anything. For a foolish moment she’d actually thought Dare was right, that maybe she should tell him that she was the Shadow’s Angel.
And then he all but bolted from the room.
Which turned out to be just the wake-up call she needed. Vaughn had made his choice and she’d deal. She was on her own. On her own—and no longer on Vaughn’s leash.
She’d opened the car door without his permission.
She’d been so wrapped up with holding it together during her panic attack she never noticed it at the time, and she was betting Vaughn hadn’t noticed either. More than once he told her to stay in the car and no matter how hard she tried, she hadn’t been able to make herself so much as grip the handle.
Elena thought it was just a fluke until he woke up and told her to touch her nose and the compulsion to obey wasn’t nearly as crippling.
She didn’t know if discovering she was his mate overrode that control, but all magic came with its own set of rules and loopholes, even the magic between mates.
Then again, it could also be her proximity to the crown.
If a Fae Queen, who’d died more than two thousand years ago, could trigger visions of a bloody battlefield as real as the one from the Gauntlet, maybe the same magic was also weakening Vaughn’s hold.
Either way, she needed to know for sure. And the only way to be certain was to get closer to the crown.
She walked the length of the next row, concentrating on the threads of power that pulled tighter on her skin.
This way…
The voice was eerily foreign, and at the same time almost…familiar.
Elena paused, second-guessing herself.
The last time she’d messed with ancient magic, she’d trapped Cian in stone for over a century. But what choice did she have? Sit and wait for her next set of captors to show up?
Vaughn may have left her vulnerable without her magic, but he hadn’t physically mistreated her. She doubted those coming for her would be worried about that.
Here…
Elena jerked back, coming an inch from impaling herself of the end of a spear jutting from the earth.
A cloaked figure kneeled on the ground, a handful of scorched earth in her open palm. A blood-stained sword rested on the ground next to her.
The Iron Queen. Again.
She’d been in the same place the last time Elena had a vision, only the other woman hadn’t said a single word then, just stared at the devastation until the connection between them was broken.
“This really needs to stop.”
“It stops when you do what you must.” The Iron Queen rose, pushing back the hood of her cloak. “You won’t be able to save them all. Not on your own.”
“Save them? Don’t you mean slaughter them? That is your thing, isn’t it?”
The Iron Queen faced the brutal remains of those left on the battlefield. The warriors, their families. Their children. And they died for what?
“You’re running out of time.”
“Pretty sure that’s not all I’m running out of,” Elena growled. “I’m not interested in being your plaything. Whatever you’re after—”
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand what I desire,” the Fae interrupted. “And you don’t need to.”
“Good then. I guess we’re done here.” She turned as if she could walk away and only to come face-to-face with the woman who bore an increasing resemblance to her and Emma.
A Fae glamour? Or had she just not noticed the similarities before, too distracted by the surrounding devastation and the chilling power that radiated from the Fae.
A cold smile curved the other woman’s lips. “He will destroy you if you keep fighting this.”
“Who?”
“The one you never saw coming.”
Vaughn? No. She couldn’t mean Vaughn. Alrick maybe, or whoever had taken Piper.
“Let me help you, Elena. Before it’s too late. He can’t be trusted.”
“Who can’t be trusted?”
“I’m not the enemy you think I am,” the ancient Fae said, ignoring the question.
“I’d be insane to trust you.”
“And dead if you do not.”
Not a threat. A warning? “I don’t understand.”
The Fae glanced over her shoulder. “You are out of time.” She jerked her sword up. “If you fight your fate, you will die.” Something that might have been sadness blinked across the Iron Queen’s face.
“And what is my fate?” Elena demanded.
The battlefield vanished so fast it made Elena’s head spin.
She leaned into the bookshelf, letting reality sink back in. She had more questions than ever, and unfortunately she wouldn’t find any answers by running from the magic that called to her.
And the crown was the only shot she had of leveling the playing field if her ability to disobey Vaughn was only temporary. It wasn’t like she needed to put the crown on, right? She just needed to be close enough to get a good boost to access her own magic.
Iron was a Fae’s kryptonite and although it had corrupted the Iron Queen, there was a good chance Elena’s sorceress half would offer some protection from the poisonous metal.
Maybe.
Part of her resisted the idea of finding out, the part of her that knew how dangerous magic like that was, how addictive it could become. At the same time, she knew tapping into the crown’s magic might be the only way to take back control of her fate.
If she was going to be someone’s pawn—the kidnappers or a dead Fae Queen—she’d rather it be on her terms.
Steps echoed close by. Her time had just run out.
She plucked the closest, thick volume off the shelf as Vaughn stepped into the aisle in front of her.
She took her time acknowledging his presence. Avoiding eye contact wasn’t an option but she wished it was when she lifted her gaze and his fierce blue eyes locked her feet to the floor.
It was the first time he’d truly met her gaze since she got out of the car, and she wasn’t even half prepared for the fear, hurt and raw need he managed to convey with one sweeping glance that ran from her eyes, to the book in her hand, and back.
All the butterflies that poofed into existence in his presence went wild as he looked at her like he didn’t know whether to strangle her or kiss her. But her heart was the worst, followed closely by the suspicion that sliding into his arms could somehow fix everything.
Not that it mattered moments later when all trace of emotion left his face, and she pasted on her most brazen smile. Fake it ‘til you make it.
The wolf flashed in his eyes, but didn’t rise to his voice. “All rested up, huh?”
Okay. If he was going to play games instead of calling her out for not being under his control anymore, she’d roll with that. “I figured I’d find something to read.”
He nodded to the book in her hand, reading the spine. “Theories of the Spiritual and Metaphysical Woman in the Ancient World. Riveting stuff.”
“Probably not if you have a penis.”
His lips twitched but he wasn’t amused. Probably trying to figure out if she’d regained more than just the ability to ignore his commands.
“We should go back downstairs.”
Elena flipped through the book. “You know, that almost sounded like a suggestion.”
“I prefer to think of it as a solid plan.”
“And here I thought you preferred to fly by the seat of your pants.” She snapped the book shut and lowered her voice. “I mean this whole abduction doesn’t exactly scream well-thought-out.”
Vaughn straightened up. “Let’s go, Elena.”
“I know this is going to sound a little juvenile—” she shrugged, “—but make me.”
“Turn around and return to your room.”
Elena’s eyes widened then she whistled. “Nothing. Guess it was worth a shot though, huh?”
Vaughn’s hand flexed at his side, but she knew the show was intentional. If he didn’t want her to see him coming, he wouldn’t betray a damn thing.
“Best bring your A-game, Shadow. You’re going to need it without those Fae puppet strings you’ve been yanking on.”
His jaw tensed. “You may not have to listen, but you’re still at a disadvantage without your magic to even the odds.”
He wouldn’t be the first to mistakenly assume that. “Who says I don’t have my magic back, Barkley?” she bluffed, fighting through the pain to pull a spark of blue flame down the spine of the book.
There. Let him chew on that.
He didn’t react when she took a step toward him, then another.
Yes, this way.
Vaughn cocked his head, the wolf flashing in his eyes as if he’d sensed the voice in her head. When he didn’t say anything, she set the book down, drawn toward the ancient magic.
She took another step toward him.
“Stop.”
She paused, chewing thoughtfully on her lip. “Guess it’s still on the fritz. You should probably talk to whoever sold you those magic beans and get your cow back.” She paused next to him. “Or maybe they just didn’t realize what would happen if you used them on your mate.”
She couldn’t resist throwing that at him, wanting him to hurt just a little. Okay, maybe more than a little. Maybe as much as it was hurting her to look at him now and see only grim determination in the wild eyes she’d fallen in love with.
Because there was no way around facing that. Maybe she couldn’t pin down the moment it happened—when she sat down at the Blackjack table in Vegas, when he kissed her forehead in the hall or when he found her waiting at the elevator—but she’d given him her heart.
Denying that would make her weak, vulnerable, and she needed every shred of strength she could hold onto.
“What are you doing, Ivy?”
“The same thing you are. What I have to.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Oh good. For a moment there I thought you were going to say it’s complicated,” she quipped.
“You can’t have it, Elena.”
“My freedom or the crown of the Iron Queen?”
His eyes flared, and she smiled, feeling like there was a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel.
He grabbed her hand.
Two seconds.
Two seconds that lasted merely a heartbeat and an eternity all at once. Two seconds that tore her down and somehow refortified all the cracks ready to splinter at any moment.
She raised a hand, cupping his face. His eyes, so fierce and wild, never left hers. She leaned in, her words a whisper as she pressed her lips to his rough jaw as carefully as he had the night in Vegas. “I’m sorry.”
And she was.
Sorry that they’d missed their chance, that they hadn’t found each other sooner, that she wouldn’t spend a lifetime trying to outmaneuver the playful wolf.
And so very sorry that she couldn’t be the woman who sacrificed herself for the man she loved.
“Ivy.” The plea in his voice nearly broke her.
She stepped back, anticipating the way his hold tightened.
Because she’d been counting on it.
***
The sorceress jerked her hand to his chest as sparks of blue lightning rolled across her eyes. Searing heat punched through the center of her palm and straight into him.
The wolf howled in his head as he fumbled to clutch the bookcase. He’d drop without something to hold onto.
Releasing him, Elena stumbled out of reach, steadier than he was, but still hurting.
The bookshelf seemed to slip through his fingers and Vaughn dropped to his knees anyway, his body too stunned to respond to every mental order to get the fuck off the floor.
Elena cocked her head like she was straining to hear something he couldn’t. He didn’t need to hear it to know the crown was reaching out to her somehow.
A new kind of fear iced his blood. “Wait!”
“No more Simon Says, Barkley.” She turned, staggering into the end of the bookshelf before she caught her balance and disappeared around the corner.
He didn’t know how she’d done it, or how she’d gotten out of the car and room downstairs, but she’d need more than whatever it was to ditch him now.
He pushed to his feet, his knees buckling three steps in. He sucked in a breath, forcing his legs to hold him. “Elena!”
His vision went fuzzy at the edges, his eyes watering as if the heat had singed every cell in his body.
He paused, listening, then spun to the right. His coordination returned with each step. He rushed through the stacks, registering another set of steps somewhere behind him. Dare, he hoped.
“Elena!” Vaughn almost ran past her.
She was crouched in the middle of an aisle, gaze locked on something on the bottom shelf.
He backtracked, approaching her carefully. There was no way to know if she had any other cards left to play.
“You don’t want to mess with that, Ivy. We both know how unpredictable that kind of magic is. Let’s just talk, okay?”
“Now you want to talk?” she drawled.
“We both know I screwed up,” he admitted.
He’d taken one look at her after she collapsed, when she’d sat there waiting for him to acknowledge their bond, and he’d left her.
Again.
Because he knew if he stayed he’d never be able to go through with the exchange. Just like he knew it now. He couldn’t sacrifice his mate. He had to find another way. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be the man his parents believed him to be. Wouldn’t deserve his sister’s faith in him, or ever earn the love of the incredible female in front of him.
Even after everything he’d put her through, Elena had tried reaching him, and he’d turned away from her.
He wouldn’t make that mistake again. “I need your help, Ivy.”
“How convenient,” she mocked, her attention locked on the box within her reach.
The wolf snarled in his head, both man and beast knowing her fascination with the crown was about to make a hell-and-gone situation a thousand times worse. He needed her attention off that box. Now.
“Dare says I need to trust you.”
She didn’t respond right away. “I wish it wasn’t too late for that.” She reached for the box.
This time he snarled aloud, the wolf wanting out. “It’s not too late. Come on, Ivy. Look at me.”
“She said she’s not my enemy.”
She? The Iron Queen? His gut twisted. “Is she talking to you?” He’d seen how Elena reacted in the chamber, but she’d never said a damn thing about hearing any voices.
She ignored him, preoccupied with something he couldn’t pick up on, but it was driving the wolf crazy. The animal in him was near savage, pacing and growling and pressing so close to the surface Vaughn’s skin grew feverish. “The Iron Queen is dead and that thing is playing with your head.”
“Maybe. But what if she’s right? What if the crown can save me, can save them all? I won’t have to lose another one.”
Lose another what? “It just wants to use you.” Vaughn didn’t have a clue if Elena could even open the box and channel magic that old, but he knew damn well whatever she was hearing was making her think she could.
And he didn’t want to test that theory today or any other.
“Maybe I can save her, too.”
He frowned. “Save who, Ivy?”
She parted her lips, but he didn’t wait for her answer. He threw himself at her, knocking them both away from the box and into the shelf behind her. Books rained down around them.
Elena jammed her foot between them as they hit the ground, using the momentum to throw him over her. The landing jarred him but he didn’t stay down.
Where the hell did that come from? Elena relied on magic, not physical combat.
He pivoted just fast enough to catch her ankle and jerked her toward him. This time he was ready for the leg she tried to nail him with, flipping her onto her belly.
She smashed her head back, clipping his chin. Blood pooled across his lip.
“What other secrets have you been keeping, Ivy?”
“You have no idea,” she snapped, jamming her elbow into his side.
Half prepared for it, he grunted through the pain and pressed her harder into the floor.
Like a pretzel coming undone, she snaked her leg between his, using the leverage to get to her side. Still not himself after the earlier shock of heat she’d nailed him with, he was slower to respond, but managed to keep her pinned beneath him.
For a whole three seconds.
So determined to trap her in place, his hand grazed her chest, and she took full advantage. Another sizzle of heat hit him, not as strong as before but carried enough kick to throw him off balance when she pitched her hips hard to the left.
She scrambled out from beneath him, leaving him between her and the crown.
Unfortunately, that still left her far too close as far as he was concerned.
“Take it,” he ordered Dare, who’d finally joined the party.
Elena craned her neck, watching Dare dart in to grab the box behind Vaughn and retreat. “Don’t. We need it,” she pleaded.
Dare hesitated. “Maybe we—”
“We can’t take that chance. It could kill her,” he snapped.
“And we wouldn’t want anything to happen to little ole me before the deal goes down.” She lunged for Vaughn.
He caught her around the waist. “Go,” he yelled at Dare.
Torn, his friend finally obeyed.
Elena shoved Vaughn back, spinning around as if she planned to cut Dare off.
Vaughn sprinted after her, knocking aside the books she shoved off the shelf in his direction. “Throwing obstacles in my path didn’t work so well for you the last time.”
She ignored the barb meant to provoke a response and increased her speed.
Shit.
He jumped a shorter set of shelves and missed snagging her shirt. The sorceress was quicker on her feet than he’d ever witnessed.
Did it have something to do with the crown or was there more to it than that?
He heard a door slam ahead, one Dare was hopefully already trying to lock or jam shut, trapping Elena in with Vaughn.
She rounded the last set of shelves three steps ahead of Vaughn, slamming her palms on the door when it wouldn’t budge. She didn’t waste time badgering Dare to unlock it, but whipped around to confront Vaughn. “I’m done playing nice.”
Whatever hold the crown on her, it had intensified since they first encountered it below the Wolf’s Den.
“The Iron Queen is gone.” Had been for a very long time if the myths were to be believed.
Elena shook her head, rubbing at the brand on her chest as though to soothe the pain there. “You don’t understand.”
“I know it’s not real.” She had to know that. She was far too smart to trust magic that old, especially when she’d witnessed firsthand what manipulative, ancient beings were capable of when driven by revenge.
And he wouldn’t be surprised if the residual magic left over from a dead queen put down by her own family might hunger for vengeance.
Whatever was happening, though, it was his fault. He’d left his mate weak, vulnerable. He wouldn’t let that thing manipulate her when she’d already been through enough.
It ended here. Now.
She thrust a hand out. “Tell Dare to open the door.”
“I can’t do that.”
Her tracings vanished and then reappeared as she cried out. He reached for her, but she backed away. “What if it’s the only way I can save them? Save her?”
“So you don’t lose anyone else?” he asked gently, wondering if it had been her talking or the ancient magic influencing her.
She nodded, her attention straying toward the door.
Was it still reaching out to her?
He closed the distance between them. She was too distracted to notice until he was all the way in her personal space. “Tell me about them, the ones you couldn’t save.”
“No. I need—”
He grabbed her arm. “It’s gone, Elena.”
Her eyes flashed with a fury he recognized. Now there was his sorceress. Dare must have put enough distance between her and the crown to ease its hold on her.
“You want to be mad at someone, take it out on me.”
“You think I wouldn’t?”
“I know that’s probably what you want me to believe. Honestly? I don’t think you want to hurt me any more than I want to hurt you.”
“You kidnapped me, locked down my magic, drove me off the road, left me defenseless against a wraith, and taunt me with ancient magic that would crush you, all the while waiting to trade me away. I’ve got a hundred reasons to hurt you.”
“Then do it.” He reached for her. “You want to hurt me, then go ahead.”
“Don’t,” she warned, a sliver of panic creeping into her voice.
She might be furious with him, might never be able to forgive him for what he’d done, but she still cared. He could see it in the eyes she let slide shut a beat later. If she wanted to hurt him, this was her moment.
“You can’t keep doing this. I can’t…” she whispered, the rest of her words slipping away.
He cupped her face, wondering if it was possible to hate himself any more than he did at that very moment.
She gripped his wrist, tugging it away. “You gave up the right to touch me when you walked out on me in Vegas.”
The change in subject gave him hope that the crown’s proximity her biggest trigger. Needing her mind on something besides tracking Dare and the siren’s call of the crown, he’d talk about anything, even Vegas.
“Is that what you’re really pissed about? That I was the one who walked away and not you?”
Her gaze turned murderous, and he knew he finally had her full attention.
“Probably doesn’t happen often, does it?” He searched her face. “Unless… That wasn’t the first time it happened to you, was it?” He whistled. “Must have been a blow to the ego.”
“I know what you’re doing and it won’t work.”
“And what am I doing?” Aside from being an even bigger asshole than ever before.
“Get out of my way.”
“Not to sound juvenile,” he parroted, “but make me.” He was ready for anything. A burst of heat, one of her blue balls of fire, a kick, a punch, a knee to the groin. He’d telegraphed every possibility in his mind, except one.
She let her hands fall back to her sides. “I’m not going to hate you.”
“Two minutes ago you would have set me on fire if you could have.”
“That was…before.”
“And now?”
“Now you’re just trying to provoke me to keep yourself from feeling like a dick for not telling me the truth. That I’m your mate.”
“I think I liked it better when you wanted to set me on fire.” It made it a hell of a lot easier to fight the wolf’s need to hold onto her, and that didn’t compare to the need Vaughn felt to keep her close and never let go.
“You should have told me,” she said softly.
“The truth—” he tucked her hair behind her ear because he couldn’t not touch her, “—is that I that meeting you during the Gauntlet was like taking a hundred strikes of lightning at once. I was completely blindsided.”
Her eyes widened, and he almost stopped himself there. He wasn’t even sure who he’d been trying to spare by saying nothing—her or himself. But it ended now.
“I should have told you,” he continued, “I should have told that night in Vegas was the best night of my life.”
She shook her head, the haunting gray of her eyes slicing him wide open as the words kept coming.
“I should have told you that there isn’t a smarter, sexier, stronger woman I’d ever want for a mate.”
Her lids drifted shut and a shudder went through her.
He waited for her to look at him, completely undone at the tear that slid down her cheek when she finally glanced at him.
“And I should have told you that I think I fell in love with you the moment you called me Superman.”