Chapter 37
Fraser found Sylvie at the lake, her back pressed against a tree and the Tear of Adreisai cupped in her upturned palms. She had a suspicion about her pack's matelessness, but it would amount to nothing if she couldn’t open a portal.
“What are you doing,” he asked cautiously, keeping a wide berth around the trunk as she opened her eyes.
“Fixing things.”
“And how’s that working out for you?”
She snarled, stood, and pocketed the seed. There was no point in trying to get zen enough to splice with him standing over her.
“I don’t need your input, Fraser.”
“Sharp tone for someone who tried to kill an innocent man.”
As if he had drawn a knife from his belt and stabbed her with it, she recoiled, teeth-gritting hard enough to hurt her jaw. As if noticing her look, he narrowed his eyes, the act mixed with a wince. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Without a word, she strode for the lapping waters of the lake, ignoring the footsteps that followed in her wake.
She didn't bother stripping beyond shrugging off her jacket, the Tear of Adreisai tucked safely away in the breast pocket, before marching through the frigid waters. Immediately, the icyness cut through her rage and bubbling panic, and she dove under, cutting off any words from anyone.
The urge to suck in a breath hit her, but she fought against it. She didn't need the air. The water bit into her skin as she plundered through it, her kicks taking her to the platform in the lake's centre.
Above her, water sloshed and rocked as if a large beast carved a wave into its still skin, and she finally surfaced. Her breathing even. Slow. Barely a ripple from where she broke the surface.
Ahead of her, on the platform, Fraser sat, feet submerged and upper body bare, the cold not affecting him beyond the hardening of his nipples. She looked away even as she pulled herself onto the floating grey square. He wisely didn't touch her and remained silent as she sat beside him, crossing her legs and burying her fingers in her gnarled hair.
“I’m sorry,” she finally said. The words had been sitting heavy in her gut for days. Ever since they returned home, she’d avoided him at every turn, running the opposite way whenever he came close. Not because he did anything wrong, but because she was ashamed.
Hellbent on revenge, she was quick to point blame, even when the evidence wasn’t adding up. He became guilty the moment she lost Amira, whether he did it or not.
When he didn't reply, she looked at him through the dripping curtain of hair. He was already looking at her, mouth downturned and a soft crease between his brows.
“I’m sorry, too.”
She shook her head, the droplets like tiny stings on her skin.
“I should’ve talked to you before attacking everyone.”
“You should have. But I understand why you didn’t.”
He reached across the distance between them and pushed her hair back over her shoulder, revealing her face. His forefinger lightly traced her cheek before she exhaled sharply and sat up straighter.
“You’re a fast swimmer,” he said then. The casual manner of the statement made her blink once, twice.
“Rowan taught me.”
His lip flickered in the corner a fraction. She would've missed it if she hadn't been staring so intently at them. He seemed to notice her noticing and sucked in his cheeks slightly.
“So that’s what I’d been missing, right?”
Sylvie wriggled, pulling her knees up to her chest and draped her arms around them. “What are you talking about?”
He stared for a moment before speaking, his gaze drifting to the spot on her chest where her marks lay hidden under her clothes.
“When the first batch of Rowan's shifters defected to me, I couldn’t understand why they felt so distant. It hadn't happened with any others, even when they were possessed. The mind link forming is a swearing of allegiance from pack to Alpha, but with Rowans, it was different.”
She knew this vaguely, but her lack of shifter heritage meant she didn't think about it often. She wondered how much it hurt Rowan to lose his pack members to Fraser. Breaking fealty was like a loss of trust, a loss of family.
“How?”
“Well, they wouldn't tell me or their mates anything about you, for one.”
Sylvie flushed, pride making her heart swell.
“They should have been mine. They couldn’t have kept their loyalty to another Alpha, but their devotion wasn’t really to a shifter, was it?”
His kicking feet sloshed the water as he spoke. “Am I on the right track?”
“When did you figure that out?”
“Still am,” he said with a light grin. “So?”
She gnawed on her inner cheek and flicked chipped paint off the platform. “You really know nothing about me other than what I told you?”
He shifted, hands behind him and propping him up as he leaned back a little. “Nothing other than you’re a Vampire Queen and maybe the female Alpha to this pack.”
Her mouth twitched. “Fae princess, too. Or a lady. Not sure how it works.”
When Fraser gave her a blank stare, she couldn’t stop the slight curl of her lips.
“From Kian’s bond.”
The cogs in Fraser's mind settled into place before Sylvie’s eyes. His lips parted in surprise as Sylvie stood, wringing the water from her hair.
“Three mates for my three personalities.” She scoffed at herself and padded to the other side of the dock, enjoying the tilt of the platform underfoot. Her toes pressed down firmer, and her core braced as Fray moved behind her.
When his warm shoulder brushed hers, she didn't shift away. Instead, she let the faint tingles from their touching skin spread up her shoulder and down to her fingers.
“I think I’d like to know you better,” he said softly. A ghost of touch against her pinky made her heart jump, and she leant away.
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything,” he replied instantly. When she turned to regard him, she found he was already watching her, his molten eyes searching. “But I think I’ll start with your name,” he said.
“Hi. My name is Fray. What’s yours?” He held out his hand, the huge mitt shoved between them, making the ground wobble under her feet.
The weight of their bodies made the platform sink until the waterline was only a few inches from the top. She stared at the hand for a few beats and finally slipped her hand into his.
“Sylvie Hart.” He shook once, strongly. Firmly. She warmed under his gaze, the air between their dripping bodies turning electric.
“Sylvie,” he said, tasting the name, and she stepped back just hard enough to tip the platform, sending the pair sprawling into the frigid water again.
The moon illuminated the grassy knoll behind Sylvie’s home, where she relayed her plan and handed over a handwritten invitation.
“Will you help me?” Sylvie asked the Queen as she sank to her knees. Kerensa pocketed the note and crossed her arms, scrutinising her friend, her sister.
“Stand up, Hart. You know you don’t have to ask.” When Sylvie made no effort to move, Kerensa snatched her up by the wrists and searched her face, fangs baring a little. “I know you’re hurting. I know there are things you don’t want to share, but you are not alone. Don’t act like you are.”
“I’m not,” she said weakly.
“You are. Without looking, I know your marks are faded. Stop cutting them out.”
Sylvie palmed her marks self-consciously. They weren't fading, were they? She still loved them all as much as physically possible. She’d been intimate with them. But deep down, she knew Kerensa’s words were true, too.
“Okay. I-I’ll stop.”
“Good, because you’ll need to be at full strength to face those demons, and this,” Kerensa let go of her wrist to gesture the length of her body, “is not at full strength.”
A glimmer of humour shone in her eyes, and Sylvie’s heart twinged a little. “I resent that.”
Kerensa nodded, clapping her shoulder lightly. “Let Kian take some of the darkness.”
Sylvie shook her head, casting her eyes to the dark house. He had been more withdrawn lately, busy with work and researching ways to help Claudine. He didn’t need more on his plate.
“I’ll open up to them,” she promised. “But it's my burden to bear.”
Kerensa looked ready to argue, but Elias padded from the back door, hands carefully hooked in his pockets. The relaxed stance was meant to disarm, but Sylvie knew he had heard every word.
“Dinners ready. Would you like to join us, Majesty?”
The Fae Queen inclined her head but declined the offer. “Another time. I have an enchantment to make.”
She gave one last, lingering look at Sylvie and portalled away, a ring of mushrooms around where she had stood.
“Come now, Kitten. You need to eat.”
Her stomach grumbled, and she wandered over, leaning into her Vampire mate as they headed for the dining room.
Dinner was a fine array of Sylvie’s favourites: pasta, stew, dumplings and bottles of bubbling liquids. For once, she didn’t baulk. She sat and ate her fill, and when her stomach stopped cramping, she ate some more.
Her mates all regarded her with hints of relief. It may have looked like she turned a corner to them, but in reality, Sylvie’s current state was closer to resignation. To fix things, she needed to be at full strength. That meant food.
Kerensa’s words replayed in her head, and when everyone had finished their meals, she met their eyes one by one—and strengthened her mate bonds again.
“I need to show you something.”
Without nearly enough warning, Sylvie opened the bond she’d been hiding from them for weeks, and her mates groaned, clutching their marks with equal pain.
Rowan strained against it but shifted anyway, his wolf whining and curling next to the dining table. Kian swayed, his skin turning ashen as he stared at his mate, glassy-eyed, a new necklace Sylvie had only just noticed spinning in front of his chest with unsteady movements. And Elias had been driven to the brink of insanity, his eyes flaring red, fangs descended.
She knew she shouldn’t have shown them.
Tears carved a trail down Sylvie’s face as she slowly pulled it back to close them off when Elias lunged for her, taking her hands and dropping to his knees in front of her. “Don’t,” he gritted. “Don’t, Sylvie.”
“I have to,” she whispered, heart racing from the equally terrifying responses of her mates.
“No,” Kian added, closing the gap between them and coming to her side, brushing a tear about to fall from her cheek. “We can take it.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
Rowan pawed over, curling around her legs and acted as a steadying force. He clearly shared the others’ sentiments.
“I wish I’d known sooner,” Kian said, shaking slightly. His voice took on a faraway quality that unnerved her.
Elias stood, staring down at her. “I once told you I would find you anywhere. On this earth. Hel.” He cradled her cheek in one enormous hand, his thumb swiping her quivering lower lip. “Even if that’s your mind, Sylvie. I will find you.”
Her body shuddered, a choked sob breaking free as he scooped her into his arms and carried her to their bed. Once lying atop it, Rowan climbed up, laying across her legs like a weighted blanket, while Kian and Elias took either side, their presence staving the hopelessness that had been dragging her away since Amira died.
Amira wouldn't want this for her. If she had done it to herself, she had to have known how it would affect her. She wouldn't have killed herself if she thought Sylvie would end up in the same position.
“Princess-”
Kian’s haunted expression stilled her spiralling thoughts, and she touched his face lightly. “I’m sorry.”
He only shook his head as Elias hooked his finger around her chin and guided her eyes to his. Even in the darkness, she could see his pain. “We’re in this together. Do you understand me? Nothing matters to us more than you, Sylvie—everything from this point on we do together. We plan together, fight together, feel together. You are not alone.”
Those words echoed inside her head until a flurry of faces filled her mind's eye. Kerensa, her parents, the shifters: people who loved her no matter what she did. Even Rosie, whom she had pulled away from. Pushed and hurt again and again. Her heart ached as she thought of her, the face that embodied sunshine now dulled by ashen clouds. And the ones who had passed over. Despite death parting them, she was not alone. In her mind, Amira and Natalie smiled. Her eyes burned as she whispered.
“I’m not alone.” Something shifted in her once more. It was no longer resignation, hopelessness, and despair. No. Like a last gift from her Seanmhair, determination filled her, eating away at the darkness, just as Kian absorbed some of her grief. She frowned toward him but stopped at his faraway look. Something wasn’t right. And now the bonds were open, she could find out why. Soon.
Rowan shifted back into skin form and pulled himself over her, his head resting on her lower belly.
“Never.”
Elias kissed her jaw with the lightest touch, the action forcing her to shiver.
“No secrets.”
She whispered his words as he kissed the spot beneath her earlobe.
“No lies.”
A kiss to the shell of her ear. Again, she breathed the words he spoke.
“Tonight, we heal what we can.” He bit her neck lightly over the spot where he first marked her all those years ago in Evergreen.
She clenched the bedsheets, and her breathing turned shallow.
“Tomorrow we plan.”
Rowan ran his hands along the outside of her thighs, past her hips and waist, humming his agreement.
“Together,” he rumbled between her legs.
“Together,” Kian and Elias intoned, eyes darkening and lips pressing against Sylvie as she writhed.
“Together,” she sighed.
End of Book 4