Coveted (18 page)

 Chapter Nineteen

W
ith more than a little
trepidation, Shayla followed Aiden to the main hall. She clutched his hand, cursing
the way her heart thundered in her ears at the prospect of being paraded in
front of his family.

His pack.

She wanted to create
a good impression, but she felt awkward in the borrowed dress, conscious of
being completely bare beneath the soft fabric thanks to Aiden’s meddling. When
his scorching gaze landed on her, the knowledge glowed in his eyes, and her
misgivings turned into anticipation for what would come afterward.

As soon as her foot
came off the last step, Aiden pushed her up against the wall, brushing his lips
over hers in a hot rush, nibbling and taking everything she offered and
demanding more, all the while touching her with nothing more than his mouth.
Just when her brain was ready to turn to mush, he broke the kiss. Despite her
promise to remain strong, a small whimper escaped. His mouth lingered, his lips
barely touching her, as if savoring her taste, before he finally straightened. It
took an embarrassingly long time for her eyes to open and focus, and a longer
time for her to be sure her legs would support her. “Remember that they are
more nervous to meet you than you are of meeting them.”

Shayla snorted, hating
that more than her lips still tingled at the devastating kiss. “I doubt that.”

Aiden smiled a little
devilishly. “Just concentrate on what I have planned for you later.”

He danced away before
she could swat him, and she gave chase. When they burst into the main hall, all
conversation stopped. Shayla skidded to a halt. It took Aiden’s nudge to get
her moving again…it was either walk or fall flat on her face. He guided her
toward a big table in front of the group, and she struggled not to drag her
feet.

There were near forty
men of all ages crammed from wall to wall, changing the once gigantic room into
an itty-bitty living space. The men were well groomed and freshly showered. Their
eyes followed her like a stripper at a bachelor party. Some smiled, while
others just stared as if she were their own personal squeaky toy. No one spoke,
no one so much as twitched.

Her chest burned under
the attention, and Shayla gulped for air, trying not to hyperventilate. It
didn’t help. A spark flared to life in her gut, and her gift woke with a
vengeance.

Panic surged up her
throat, leaving a rancid aftertaste, and her gaze flicked around the room,
frantically searching for the nearest exit.

This couldn’t be
happening.

Not here.

Not now.

She jerked her hand
from Aiden’s, immediately missing his warmth as she backed away.

It was much too
dangerous.

She couldn’t risk him
becoming infected by her magic.

She had to get out.
Had to flee. Even as she scuttled back, the room altered, colors bled away as
the Frost World and real world collided. Heat burned under her skin, the flames
licking at her flesh.

Indistinct shapes
formed from the shadows like fog, and she braced herself for an attack. Wraiths
lived in the parallel plane. There was a cruelty to them, aimed at humans, which
seemed bred down to the bone. Their hatred and thirst for the living was all-consuming. 
 

But instead of those
vicious creatures, a pack of wolves charged out of the dark mass, the animals
all sleek and beautiful. They roamed amongst the men, both curious and playful.
One appeared brighter than the rest, nearly twice the size of the others. He wove
his way through the crowd, ignoring everything around him, those eyes of his gleaming
as he stalked toward her.

Her mind screamed at
her to run, a primitive command that warned she’d be devoured if she didn’t flee.
She trembled with the effort to hold her ground. Running would gain her
nothing. She had to face the danger, a lesson she’d learned the hard way. If
her magic had something to show her, there was nothing she could do to stop it.

The large beast came
to a stop in front of her, sniffing at her skirt. Seemingly satisfied with what
he discovered, he leaned his massive body against her, nearly knocking her off
her feet. He did it again and again as if trying to herd her toward the door on
the opposite side of the room.

When she wasn’t
moving fast enough, he nipped at her ankles, and she barely bit back a yelp of
pain.

“Shayla?”

Aiden watched her,
concern darkening his gaze.

She must look like an
idiot, prancing around the room to evade the hound’s persistent prodding. “Ah,
bathroom.”

Aiden nodded, but his
eyes narrowed in suspicion. “The door behind you. Take a right.”

Shayla bolted from
the room, the devil dog hard on her heels. As soon as the door shut, she
whirled. “Bad doggie. What do you think you’re doing?”

As if delighted by
her response, he smiled, revealing a fine set of big, sharp teeth just waiting
to munch on her. Shayla carefully straightened. “Okay, you win. I’ll follow,
but we’ll have to hurry, lest they think I fell into the toilet. You’ve embarrassed
me enough with that display out there.”  

The dog trotted left,
down a dimly lit hallway, melting into the gloomy interior of the castle. Shayla
faltered, questioning her sanity. Nothing good could come from what he wanted
to show her, they were not her secrets to learn. Just when she was about to scurry
back into the main hall, the dog gave a sharp yip as if to warn her to get her
ass moving. Those yellow eyes locked on her, and his legs bunched as if he was prepared
to retrieve her if she made it necessary.

Shaking her head at
her own stupidity for getting into this mess, Shayla hurried into the darkness.
She’d learned long ago that there was no fighting this kind of thing. If magic
wanted her to know something, it could be relentless. She might not care for
the spectacle it would create next time in guise of teaching her to pay better attention.

Hiking up her skirt with
one hand, she followed the beast down a narrow set of stone steps that had long
since been worn away by time. The hallway was dusty but in good repair, the
smell of oil, dirt and generations of smoke lingered in the confined space. The
silence was eerie. There were no settling noises, no groaning of floorboards. All
she heard in the darkness was her own breathing echoing against stone.

A draft swirled
around her ankles, the air cold and damp, just as she had imaged the rest of
the castle would be like without the extensive remodeling. The passageway
twisted and turned, narrowing until she was walking on hard-packed dirt. Every
twenty feet or so they would pass a wooden door. Some were old and rotten,
others oiled and apparently in perfect working condition.

All were locked.

When she was about to
call it quits, she turned the corner to see her guide waiting for her. The large
oak door with reinforced metal straps looked like it had survived for hundreds
of years. Impenetrable. As she neared, the wolf darted right through the closed
door and vanished. Great for the beastie, but not so much for her. Determined
to see this through now that she’d come so far, Shayla grasped the cold ring
and tugged.

Much to her surprise,
the door opened without any resistance. Stifling darkness blanketed the room,
so she could barely make out any shapes.

Something large moved
toward her.

In a room that had
been locked for decades.

Images of mummies and
vampires popped into her head, and she let loose a stream of profanity as she
scrambled backwards. It wasn’t until she recognized the black beast that her
heart finally settled back into her chest.

“You rotten, mangy
beast. You did that on purpose.” The dog’s lips curled up in a very pointy grin
as if enjoying his joke. Then he lifted a massive paw, thumping it against the large
stand in the center of the room. The pedestal wobbled precariously, and a small
box toppled to the floor.

“Careful. I don’t
want to get blamed if you break something.” Shayla bent to replace the box when
the wolf set his giant paw on it, his green eyes intent on her.

“Is this what you
wanted me to see?”

In an answer, he
plopped his butt down and waited expectantly. Not willing to turn her back on the
shade, Shayla tugged off the wooden lid. Air stilled as if holding its breath.

Inside rested a cloth
of some sort.

Something ancient and
powerful seeped into the room. The air became thicker, the small space a bit
cooler.

Shayla froze like an
animal sensing a predator closing in on them, but the dog didn’t have any such
qualms, nudging her hand as if impatient with her dillydallying. Prickly pain
lashed across her skin at the contact, like a limb waking after having fallen
numb. The box slipped from her grip, and the contents crashed to the floor for
a second time.

“Stop that.” She
rubbed the back of her hand, glaring at the mutt.

She scooped up the
container, but halted when she spotted a silver chain that had spilled out onto
the dirt.

She gingerly picked
up the metal links, gasping when a cloudy, oval stone shimmered into view. The
gem was green, an emerald of some sort, and the size of her thumb. The color
seemed to swirl, beckoning her closer.

The wolf tipped back
his head and gave a howl of triumph. His baritone cry ripped through the room,
the sound vibrating uncomfortably in her chest. She covered her ears, gathering
herself to run when the wolf’s form turned hazy.

Before she could
move, the beast leapt at her.

Shayla fell on her
backside, lifting her arms to protect herself. As the wolf hit the emerald, he
vanished in a flash of green light. Fire surged up her arm, settling heavily
under her skin.

Every hair on her
body stood on end, the static painful as she struggled to adjust to the sudden
influx of magic. She curled her arm to her chest and gasped to see that the
once dull emerald now appeared lit from within. When she peered closer, she
could’ve sworn that an image of a wolf was etched into the gem when there had
once only been murky stone.

Desperate to get back
to Aiden and away from any damming evidence of magic, Shayla picked up the
necklace and scrambled from the room.

* * *

Aiden watched Shayla practically
sprinted from the hall, the hem of her skirt snapping around her ankles as she
disappeared through the door, and his pleasure in the evening evaporated. Aiden
whirled, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he surveyed his men. “What are you
buffoons trying to do? Tone it down before you scare her off.”

The men shuffled
uncomfortably.

“Is she one of the
Beloved?

“Has she been
tested?”

The questions came
from opposite sides of the room. Aiden snapped to attention, his blood pressure
spiking. Whatever secrecy he’d been trying to maintain was well and truly gone.

“We don’t know. And until
we can guarantee her safety, she will not undergo any tests.”

Mac rose from his
seat and lifted his chin defiantly. “Test or no test, she’s in danger already.
We would be better off knowing the truth, so we can form a plan to protect her.”

Aiden whirled on his
second-in-command. “She is my guest. Beloved or not, everyone here will do what
they can to ensure no harm comes to her. Understood?”

“You’ve slept with
her.” Mac balled his fists, muscles corded on his arm, one step away from
throwing a punch.

It wasn’t a question,
and Aiden’s smile wasn’t nice. “She’s mine.”

Mac didn’t relent, didn’t
back away from the challenge. “She could be bait. None of us can know for sure.
All I’m asking is that she be tested. Then we’ll know if she can be trusted.”

Mac knew his
weaknesses and ruthlessly preyed on them. Aiden crossed his arms, barley
refraining from beating his best friend into a bloody pulp, but it was a close
call. “She doesn’t even know about us.”