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“The guardian . . .” I murmured, and Styx reached for the two sticks that held up the bun she wore on top of her head, her unassuming hidden weapons ready for the kill. Quickly grabbing her wrist, I managed to form a single word as my entire world recalibrated. “No.”
“What?” she asked, her voice rising in disbelief.
“No,” I repeated with urgency. “She’s . . . my mate.”
“Well, I didn’t see that coming,” Oberon muttered, twirling his sword to show off, and in a quick motion, sheathed it beside him.
“Hey! Get out of here!” the dark-haired boy screeched, shooing us away with one hand.
The young woman across from him made a loud shushing sound before redirecting her attention on me. “What do you want?” she asked, a deep tenor in her voice leaked with magic.
I narrowed my eyes in response. “Ask your questions, witch, but your magic won’t work on me.”
“I can see that,” she snapped, but her expression gave away how deeply she was concerned. “I know The Crossroads is a bit different from the rest of No Man’s Land, and you’re obviously not from around here, so I’d highly suggest you get out before someone kills you.” I smirked in surprise. I liked this one. She had moxie. “And the name is Clara, asshole,” she added as an afterthought.
“I think not,” I said simply, emitting a fraction of power into my voice.
The guardian twisted on the ground, and fire spread over me once more. I grunted, the sound deep and menacing.
The man holding the knife twisted it in his palm, his thick brows furrowing as he assessed me. The woman shifted forward while still sitting on the guardian’s legs and tried to grab his arm and pull him back.
The young witch shook her head a fraction, then whispered, “Tío, I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”
A battle raged inside me. Love of a mortal had led me to damnation once already. I wanted nothing to do with it, but this was different. A fated mate; a bond a primordial shouldn’t be capable of having. That’s not how we’d been made. Yet I knew with every fiber of my being that she was meant to be mine.
A soulmate . . . and the irony of what she guarded wasn’t lost on me.
“Hold them back,” I commanded. Styx grumbled, but she and Oberon rushed forward.
The guardian met my heated gaze with wide eyes. A terrified and feeble whimper escaped her throat, and she began to writhe weakly beneath the bodies holding her down.
The boy jumped up in defense, ready to attack me. I laughed at his arrogance as I crossed the small space. While I needed her alive, the rest didn’t matter. The one called Clara stood quickly, shoving her shoulder into his stomach, and knocking him backward as they tumbled onto the floor.
“Nog, don’t! You’re going to get yourself killed!”
“And he’s going to kill Re—” As he tried to stand up, she knocked him down again, using both her magic and whatever strength she possessed. The witch was feisty.
“Your death won’t save her,” she snarled, sticking her knee in his back to pin him. “It’s not what she would want.”
At least one of them was smart.
I leaned down, brushing the hair over my mate’s forehead.
While the older woman didn’t struggle, accepting that this situation was beyond her control, Styx subdued a young woman with hate-filled eyes and Oberon had to shove the large shifter against a wall. “Get your hands off her!” he roared, thrashing under their hold.
After assessing the shifter’s features, I then looked down at my mate. They shared similarities. Same olive skin tone. Same shade of dark brown hair. The same shape of their eyes and hands. “Knock him out if you must, but keep him alive,” I instructed. Styx huffed.
Glancing at the child still crouched next to my mate, I tilted my head and considered him. His eyes . . . I’d seen them before, but never did I expect to see them again.Impossible. Whatever this child was, whoever he was, something old rested in him. Something ancient.
He stared at me with the appropriate amount of fear and respect, but he didn’t move away. Instead, he looked at me knowingly, wise beyond his years.
“You know what I am.” He swallowed thickly, nodding in a rapid motion. “Yet you stay by her side?”
“I won’t leave her,” he said, his small voice wavering. I bent down next to him, resting one knee on the ground.
“Jo,” the older woman whisper-yelled, motioning for him to come to her arms where she thought he’d be protected. “Get away from him.”
Despite all the chaos in the room, a small smile formed. “Stay, brave one. Give her comfort. She’s going to need it.” I held his tiny chin between my forefinger and thumb.
