Warring Mates

The damp scent of the earth floated around me, flittering and dancing with the smells of the wildflowers in the woods. It had rained all day yesterday; the aftermath lingering as small pools of water and mud.

I shifted on my feet, my body refusing to listen as I forced it to move. To step into the treeline. At first my parents protested heavily. The Reptillions were still kidnapping people, and for my parents it didn’t matter if they had left me for dead. They feared those creatures would come for me, kill me. Luckily, for my sake, Silas vouched for me. He assured to keep an eye on my mind and to let Zak know when he should save me.

Yet, when the actual time came to leave for Lachlan’s grave, I couldn’t do it. My feet rooted to the ground, my eyes peering into the depths of the wood. Into that same darkness I experienced in those mountains. The place where I killed his friend—a traitor—in cold-blood. It went into everything my dad taught me when I was little. Protect the ones who can’t protect themselves. Never kill a defenceless person.

And yes, she could control one’s mind, even when she was in chains. When she was stuck in the dungeon and no one was near her. But I made her. I controlled her mind, rendering her powerless.

“Everything all right?”

My heart fluttered in annoyance upon hearing Damon’s flat voice. I looked over my shoulder to see him walking up to me with his hands in his pockets. He wore his usual outfit. Black.

I gave him the stink-eye. “Tell my dad he is being overbearing again.”

He cocked a brow and said, “Don’t make assumptions when you don’t have all the information.”

I shifted my attention back to the woods, huffing.

“You seemed like you needed a talk.”

“If I needed a talk, I would have asked for one.”

He came to stand in front of me. “Yesterday you killed for the first time,” he began, eyes conveying how serious he was. “That’s not something small.”

I shrugged. “We are trained to kill. It was bound to happen sooner or later.” Steadily, the wind picked up. Leaves fell around us.

“You’re pushing your feelings away—lock them in that inescapable wall of yours.” His gaze flickered to somewhere else for a moment. “It’s not healthy.”

“Why?” I spat. “Because you’re doing the exact same thing.”

“Exactly,” he emphasized, his jaw clenching as if that little truth about him was a secret too hard to tell. “It makes me distance to everyone—including Cole.”

My shoulders slumped, face softening. “That won’t happen to me.” Collin would notice the moment something was wrong with me, and then he would talk to me. About silly things. About his past. He would wait until I was ready. “But if you really want to know,” I joked half-heartedly, “I controlled her mind and killed her. She was defenceless...” My voice cracked when I said those last words, the force of it hitting me. Saying it aloud… It was different. Made it real.

Images of her wide eyes haunted me. Filled with paralysing fear. Knowing she was about to take her last breath. Her skin as pale as the snow that laid on top of the northern mountains. I did that to her. Caused by her such dread, she looked human—innocent.

As he pulled me in for one of his rare hugs, he said, “She wasn’t.” I buried my head in his chest. “The moment she had a chance, she would have killed you.”

“I know,” I murmured. She was a cruel person who enjoyed causing others pain. If I hadn’t killed her, she would have escaped and made my life hell. She would have most likely gone after Collin, my family—everyone I cared about.

“Though, if I were you, I would wait with telling Silas how you killed her.” His chest vibrated with a chuckle. “The stress of having a pregnant wife and an upcoming war is taking its toll on him.”

I groaned, letting go of him. “Is it that bad?” I knew we had a tremendous problem with the Reptillions, but to think that there would actually be a war...

He opened his mouth to answer me when his eyes glazed over. A second passed by, followed by him rubbing his face. “I have to go. Silas needs me.”

He walked away, but I stopped him as I asked, “Can I know about what?”

“It’s about our defences,” he said. “Nikai wants everyone who can manipulate water back in the capital city. He will also send out an invitation for another meeting.”

I grinned at his last words. “A meeting I can attend.” Since I will be the future queen of the Werewolves.

“I guess so,” he said as he strode back to the palace.

I turned back to the woods. Sorrow washed over the contentment I had felt moments ago. His grave wasn’t far from here. Buried at our favourite spot. The lake... The place where he confessed his feelings for me.

The place where those creatures murdered him.

Blinking away the traitorous tears, I took the first step. The second. The third. Each one brought me closer and closer to that spot. Brought me to the path I ran over not too long ago. The race I thought I was sure to win.

Ears buzzing, heart pounding, I stopped twenty feet away from the opening. My feet hesitated with the next step, as if they’d remember what happened on this exact spot. I choked. The lake filtered through the trees, bits and pieces visible. Water glistening in the feeble sunlight, the long grass dancing with the wind.

My vision blurred, throat constricting, and I slid to the ground, my gaze still on that damned lake. I couldn’t face the truth. To see he was truly gone. After all, as long as I did not see his grave, I could pretend he was still here. Gone on a mission far away, dying to see me again.

I clutched my hands to my heart, my mouth etched in a silent scream as I hunched over. Tears ran down my cheeks. Gone. He was gone. Never coming back again. I wailed—raw and guttural.

A soft caress brushed against my mind. A silent question. After some hesitating, I opened a small door for him.

Do you want me to come and get you? Collin asked tentatively. His worry swam through my head, almost making me say yes. I caught myself in time.

No. I rocked back and forth in an attempt to calm myself, my breathing unsteady. I’ll be fine.

Okay. For a moment it stayed silent inside my mind, his reassuring presence the only thing keeping me from breaking down. From losing my entire world. One, two, three, seven, four, he said, most likely noticing the shift inside of me. Say it.

I furrowed my brows, but did as he said. With each number, my breathing steadies, much-needed oxygen filling lungs. I said them again and again, like a mantra.

You're brain can't focus on panicking if it has to name random numbers, he explained when he noticed I had calmed down enough.

Good to know, I said, bracing myself to scramble off the ground with weak knees. And thank you.

Are you sure you don’t want me to come?

Rolling my eyes at his overprotectiveness, I said a bit too harshly as I placed a hand on a tree to steady myself, yes. I flinched at the tone I used. I will let you know when I’m done, I added softer.

His presence brushed against mine, in what could have been a fleeting kiss, before he left. I closed the hole inside my wall and turned to the lake with newfound confidence. Brittle, but better than nothing.

The waterfall cascaded into the water. But unlike before, when we had last been here, there were clouds casting shadows along the field of withering flowers. The wind was chilly, able to freeze you to the bone if you hadn’t dressed properly. I shivered, rubbing my hands along my arms. That jacket sounded really great right about now. A thin sweater wasn’t enough.

As I walked a little closer to the lake, my eyes searching for his twin daggers—his grave—I fought against the panic that was threatening to take over again. I could do this. I could find his grave, marked with his favourite weapon. A tradition that’s part of the funeral. When a fae child is old enough, he will make his own weapon and when he dies, the family decides what to do with it. Most would mark their grave with it if the body and weapons were recovered. A lot of the fae died in battle or on missions.

My breath hitched, eyes stuck on the massive willow tree. His weapons hung against the bark—stark, striking. As if he was a war hero. Fought in a hundred battles, coming up with victory. Little did they know it was quite the opposite. He had never killed someone and died controlled by her. Not a glorious death a warrior would get in the midst of a war. No. Slaughtered like an animal.

Butchered.

I let my fingers glide over those two masterpieces. The blade curled inwards, the outer side jagged. One jab with it, and it would be over. Skin shredded to the point it would take days to heal. But that wasn’t what I loved about this weapon. It was the detail—the attentiveness—he paid to the sheath. Patterns of gold and black swirled all over it, coming together at the base, where they circled around an amber stone.

A soft smile tugged at my lips. He had always said they were light and easy to use. That he loved the way he could hide them, strike when the opponent least expected it. I would admire him whenever he used them. They were a part of him. Part of his body. Just the way the spear was a part of me.

My chest filled with a silent sigh, and I sat down by the willow tree, my back against the rough bark. Above me the arching branches of the tree swayed in a rhythm that was almost hypnotising, weren’t it for the early autumn breeze.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for the funeral.” I paused for a long time. Excuses wouldn’t do him any good. Wouldn’t bring him back. “I miss you,” I began again, my voice a mere whisper. “A lot…” I missed our training sessions. How he outsmarted me as he knew he couldn’t win from me with strength alone. How he made me smile, take my mind off things when I had another fight with my parents. But most of all… I missed loving him. Missed his affections, even though I didn’t deserve it. Not after what I did.

I dropped my head in my hands, a sob wrecking my body as I bawled, “I am so sorry. For… For everything. For cheating. For letting you die. Giving up on you so soon.” I stopped to allow myself to breathe through the pain. “Goddess, I’m such a failure.” A breeze ruffled my hair, the chilliness doing little to cool down my heated body. “And now I am moving on as if what we had, had been nothing.” I shook my head, my face still in my hands. “I’m a horrible person.”

A ruffle in the bushes had me still, force me to quiet my sobs. I looked up from my hands. A bunny—white as snow—hopped to me, its nose sniffing the air as if it wanted to make sure it was safe. No… to make sure I was the right person. It leaped onto my lap, nestling under my shirt.

“Is this your way of comforting me?” I asked, another sob threatening to break free.

Bunny. His nickname for me.

I cried harder, hugging the soft fuzzy ball closer to me. “Thank you,” I whispered. “For being my friend. Even though we both know I wasn’t the easiest.”

…

I sat there for hours, ignoring the shivering of my body. Coldness had seeped deep into my bones, and I knew it would take me several hours before I would be warm again. But the regret had me rooted to the numbing, hard ground. When I left, I would go straight to Collin. Warm up in his embrace.

In the end, the frigidness won as the setting sun took its last lingering heat with it. From here on, it would take minutes before I would be too cold to move. “I don’t know when I can visit you again, but I hope you don’t mind me taking the bunny with me.”

I touched the ground where he laid beneath in a last goodbye and scrambled off the ground, the animal in question still tucked in safely underneath my shirt. The walk back felt shorter—peaceful. My mind silent for a change. I walked the same path, this time with strong and confident strides. Not the weak ones. The ones where I could break down at any moment.

“Hope you’re going to like your new home,” I muttered to bunny, kissing its head that peeped through the neck of my shirt. “Now I just need a name for you…”

As I thought of various kinds of names, I stared at the ground, my feet bringing me closer to the edge of the woods. Collin was already waiting for me there, as if he’d known I would forget to warn him.

“Is that… a rabbit?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

I stammered. “Maybe.”

“Are we going to keep it?”

A smile stretched across my face. Radiant. With teeth and all. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“I guess I will need to build it a home,” he said, his hands on my hip as he pulled me closer to him, noticing the way I hid my shivering.

I savoured his heath, curling into his body as I nibbled on my lower lip. Images of him shirtless ran through my mind. Sweat glistening deliciously on his body. Muscles bulging with every move as he hammered those nails into the wood. Heat crept on my cheeks, tainting them a slight pink. Me and my horny mind…

He quirked his brow and leant in. “What are you thinking about, darling?” he whispered in my ear, his breath tickling the shell, sending a shiver down my spine.

I gulped, my mouth dry, unable to speak.

“Well…” he drawled, a suggestive look playing in his eyes. He knew. He knew what I was thinking about.

“Nothing,” I hasted out. This… Even though Lachlan gave me his blessing with that bunny, I couldn’t do this—this flirting—so soon after visiting his grave. “We should head back home. Our home,” I clarified. Our house at the lake. Our kingdom.

“Our home.” His nose brushed against mine. “I love it when you call it that.”

My toes involuntarily curled at the suggestion in his voice. “It’s the truth.” He hummed, lips drawing closer to his mark on my neck. “Collin…”

“I want you to become an official member of the Regaliri Pack.” His lips brushed against mine, pressing a soft kiss against them. “Become our queen.