Fated for the Alphas: The Complete Collection (Nine Book Paranormal Romance Box Set) (36 page)

Della stood on the heights, staring at the stars. “I know what you’re thinking,” she said. “We can’t fight a mage without a mage.”

Ronan walked to the edge of the stone, looking out over the dark, rippling grasses. “Someone with magic, anyway.” He frowned. “Why not a witch?”

“Lia was cast out of her coven,” Della said slowly.

“Yes, but I’m sure some of them cared for her. It’s Lia, after all.” Ronan’s heart throbbed painfully at the thought of her. He did his best to ignore it. “What about her friend, Lizabeth? Maybe she could help?”

“I’m not sure.” Della’s mouth was a twisted line. “We don’t know where their loyalties lie. The witches could cause more problems than they solve.”

“What do you suggest, then?” Ronan tried to keep his irritation off his face. If Della didn’t have any ideas, why did she drag him out here? They were wasting valuable time.

Della clasped her hands in front of her, studying her thumbs until Ronan wanted to roar at her.

“I know a mage,” she said at last. “Knew a mage, rather. He told me how to summon him, should I ever need his aid.”

“Could we summon him now?” Ronan asked. “Is it difficult?”

“He told me to build a fire on the highest peak I could find, then prick my finger and let a drop of blood fall into the flames. If he were able, he would appear.”

Ronan bit the inside of his lip. “Does he do… that kind of magic?”

“He’s very good at what he does,” Della said. “And very powerful. He’s a good man to have on your side, but I’m not sure how capable he is of being on anyone’s side but his own. I’d only ask for his help in the direst circumstance.”

Ronan gazed into the dark. He liked Lia’s magic, the kind that could make fire and flowers appear. He wasn’t sure he liked darker magic. “I think we can save Lia ourselves,” he said.

“I just wanted to give you the option.” Della kissed his cheek. “Bring Lia home in one piece, won’t you?”

Ronan left her on the heights, and went to his room to pace. There were so many ways he could think of to get to Lia, and so few that seemed possible. Should he go alone? Should he have the entire pack attack the Shadow den at once? Would Shade be expecting a dawn attack? In his musings, he didn’t notice that Kane had disappeared.

***

Kane cracked an eye as Ronan left to follow Della. Part of him was exhausted, but a stronger part of him burned to get his mate back. Though Ronan said there was nothing to forgive, Kane still had many wrongs on his head. If there was one he could set right, he had to do it, whether Ronan would help or not.

He slipped down the stairs and into the storage room. No one was there. No one was ever there.

Kane paused by the chest of drawers. This wasn’t a place he could pass without paying his respects. He shifted. Momma always said he looked most handsome as a man.

He blinked, surprised by the sudden wetness in his eyes. His momma had never really seen him as a man, had she? When she left, he had still been a gangly boy.

Carefully, he opened the top drawer and took out the locket. He clenched it, hard enough to leave an imprint of an “A” on his hand.

“I’ll get her back, Momma,” Kane said. “I’ll make it right.”

Letting out a breath, he put the locket back in the drawer where it belonged. It was time to go.

He couldn’t take it anymore, this feeling of being helpless and worthless. Shade wouldn’t keep his mate from him. No one would. When Lia had been bound to him, Kane had sworn to protect her, forever and always. If he died while trying to rescue her, then he must not be much of an Alpha.

Kane knelt beside the wall, shoving aside the moveable rock. He wriggled through, wincing as stone scraped his back. He would never fit through this gap as a wolf. It irked him. He was far too vulnerable as a human, crawling on all fours.

As soon as he was through, he replaced the rock and shifted. Della and Ronan were talking on the heights. Something about finding a mage. Kane snorted. Like they had time for such nonsense.

He raced into the woods, hoping that no one saw the flash of white. Ronan would just try to drag him back to the den, and Kane didn’t have the energy to fight him and still run to the border. Let Ronan stay up all night making plans if it pleased him. Kane would make his plans irrelevant.

Kane took the long way around, avoiding the meadow. His paws throbbed, and he thought one of his pads might be starting to crack. He needed rest, but it couldn’t be helped. He would sleep tomorrow, next to Lia.

There was still the hidden entrance to consider. How could he get inside Shade’s den if the very ground deceived him? It must be the mage boy’s doing. He couldn’t hide the entrance forever, could he? If Kane had to, he’d gouge out his own eyes so they couldn’t betray him.

That sounded like a solid plan. It was all Kane needed. He was sure Ronan would approve.

Forcing himself to go faster, Kane ran into the dark blue night.

Chapter Four

Lia’s head buzzed. She was still wet with desire between her legs, but it felt like a shard of ice had gone through her heart. The anguish in Ronan’s eyes wouldn’t leave her mind. She didn’t want it to. It was the only thing keeping her from giving in to the wine, and Shade.

She drew in a shuddering breath. Finn had left her the candle. She almost wept for joy at the sight of the tiny glow. Maybe it would keep her from going completely mad. She scooped it up, sheltering the flame. While Lia didn’t feel any drafts, she didn’t want to take any chances.

Holding the base between her palms, she heated the wax. Once it was malleable, she pressed it onto the floor in a corner of the cell. Sitting back on her heels, Lia watched the flame dance. The orange glow was almost cheerful. She had to marvel at the way a tiny pinprick of light held off the dark.

Lia stared at the flame. She couldn’t get too comfortable. It seemed like Shade had left her to stew awhile, but he could return at any time. And with Finn reluctant to disobey him, the Alphas would have to fight illusions as well as Shade to rescue her. For all of Kane and Ronan’s strength and bravery, they simply couldn’t fight illusions without magic of their own.

She slapped her hand against the stone. Magic. Earlier, she had far too much of it, and now she had none. Why couldn’t she have just kept her little magics? Maybe she could have convinced the lock to rust, or the candle to burn hot enough to melt the bars.

Hugging her knees, Lia watched the flame cast shadows on the walls. She had to think of a way out, and soon. She couldn’t let Shade come back. Thinking of his touch, she shuddered. She could only imagine the horrors he had planned for her.

Lia closed her eyes, biting her lip. She had to escape. She had to. She must.

She bit her lip so hard that it bled.

Lia yelped, not expecting the pain. She clapped a hand to her mouth, hoping the noise wouldn’t draw Shade. Her heart thudded as she waited for several agonizing minutes, straining to hear a hint of footsteps. At last, she relaxed. When she drew her hand away from her mouth, it came away bloody.

She stared at it.

How could she have forgotten? Her little magics were gone, but there was another option. A dark magic, a dangerous magic. One that she had never used, as she’d been terrified to try.

She heard Magda’s voice in her mind, so clearly that she fell back.
Failure at conjuring, blind to scrying. Afraid of blood magic.
And Lia had been afraid. She still remembered the day that Magda had tried to make her use it. The crone had held a knife to Lia’s wrist, telling her that it wouldn’t be so bad, that Lia’s blood would only run cold for a day or two. Lia had twisted, wrenched her arm away. Magda called her a coward while shrieking with laughter, telling her she wouldn’t be much of a witch without blood magic.

Lia preferred her blood warm. Some of the acolytes had whispered that blood magic not only made your blood run cold for a few days, but took the same number of days off your life. There were also stories of an acolyte, years ago, who had bungled the ritual and bled out in three minutes. Magda only smiled, content to let the rumors run wild. Maybe she had told them the truth once they’d danced around the bonfire and been made witches. Lia would never know.

All she knew for sure was that no matter how much she didn’t like blood magic, she didn’t seem to have a choice. She could use it, or surrender to Shade.

Lia picked up the knife, watching the flame reflected in the blade. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the handle. She set the blade against her palm, but she couldn’t bring herself to press it down.

“Come on,” she whispered. “Do it for Kane. For Ronan.”

She thought of his eyes again, the look he gave her when Shade made her think she had stabbed him. She couldn’t let that happen. Not ever. Pressing the knife down, she slid the blade over her skin.

One cut, Magda had said, could bring you luck on a day’s journey. Two might give you an advantage in a duel. And, she said, cackling, bleeding out might win you your true love.

Lia made three cuts across her palm. She pressed it to the stone wall while her heart beat thrice.

“Let me escape,” she said. “I’ll give three days in exchange. This I promise.”

It had to be enough time, a worthy sacrifice. Terrible things were said to happen to those whose sacrifices the dark god found unworthy. Lia wasn’t sure the dark god would bother to oversee such things, but it was better to be safe.

She gasped. Her heart felt like it was being squeezed by icy claws. It was held for the length of three heartbeats, then released. Lia coughed, trying to remain upright. The inside of her chest felt like it was covered in frost.

On the wall, her bloody handprint hissed and steamed. It seemed to have sunk into the wall. Lia pressed her palm to it, and the stone yielded. A tear trickled down her cheek, and she was shocked to find it cold. She wiped it away with her uncut hand. It was time to get to work.

Lia put her hand to the stone, moving it in a circle. The stone didn’t crumble so much as dissolve. Soon, she’d hollowed out a niche she could climb into.

She paused to catch her breath, cupping her hand to preserve her pooling blood. She didn’t want to use any more than necessary. It was almost painfully hot. It had to be, to melt the stone, but she suspected that the more she used, the colder her remaining blood would be. She didn’t want to get this far and then die from blood loss or internal frostbite.

Lia was about to press her hand to the wall again when she stopped. What was she thinking? The den was underground. She couldn’t go straight to go out. She had to go up.

Crouching, Lia raised her hand. The rock parted above her, and soon she was able to stand. Below her, the candle’s flame guttered and died, but she barely noticed. She didn’t need it anymore.

Rock steamed around her head as she continued to tunnel upward. Blood splattered her forehead, but she just shook it off and continued. She moved her hand in circles large enough for her to pass through, and stone melted before her like butter faced with a campfire. Lia pushed forward, ignoring the darkness all around. It would be gone soon. Then, there would be nothing but light.

She clawed her way up the stone, even when her arms began to ache. She faltered once, almost falling back to the cell floor, but her hatred of Shade made her hold fast to the rock walls. He could never have her now. She was nearly free.

Lia thrust her hand forward once more, and almost lost her footing. She hadn’t met the resistance of rock, but of nothingness. Had she reached another level of the den?

Widening the hole, she felt something rush past her. She couldn’t help the joyous laugh that escaped her. Fresh air filled her lungs, and she’d never realized before how sweet it tasted.

With the last of her strength, she pulled herself from the stone tunnel and up into a warm night. Rolling over, she lay on the grass, panting. The stars had never looked so bright, or so beautiful. They covered the blanket of night, a million welcomes back to the world of the living.

Groaning, she got on all fours. She couldn’t linger here. It wasn’t safe. Kneeling by the side of the tunnel, she pressed her palm to the edge.

“You couldn’t hide yourself, could you?” she asked. Immediately, the tunnel turned back to solid rock. It didn’t come without a price. Lia couldn’t wrench her hand away from the earth until about a pint of her blood had drained away. At least, that’s what it felt like.

She stood, feeling woozy. Her throat felt drier than it ever had in the cell. Lia tried to swallow, and again felt the constriction of the iron collar.

“Enough of that,” she murmured. Swiping her palm against it, she left a trail of blood. It hissed, and the collar fell. It had split in two.

She needed to find water. It was growing cold though, so cold. Lia turned her palm over, and found that her cuts had scabbed. The blood magic was complete, and now she would learn what it meant to have her blood run cold.

She almost fell to her knees. “Cold” didn’t seem strong enough of a word. Frigid, icy bitterness seemed to seep through her veins. Lia hugged her arms to her chest as every muscle in her body began to shake.

There was something she had to do, but her chilled brain was having a hard time remembering. A shaking breath left her lips, fogging in the warm night. Water. She needed water at the river. Her legs quaking with every step, Lia set off toward the woods.

It felt like she was walking through blinding sleet, though there was no wind and merry crickets hummed all around. She did her best not to cry at the freezing pain of it, as ice crystals formed in her eyes instead of tears. The river sounded like a howling blizzard, and it seemed like her very senses were freezing.

She was so close. So cold. So thirsty. Lia tottered to the riverbank, and collapsed.

***

The southern boundary was in sight. Kane surged forward. Shade, the Shadow pack, and the mage had better not hinder him, or Kane would slay them. With a growl, he leapt to the far bank.

He almost landed on a supine form. Her scent made him lose his footing, and roll into a heap. Lia? Kane trotted over, not caring about the dust that clung to his fur. Could it be?