Page 125 of Blood and Trouble

Lycan thrashed against the hardwood, his head slamming repeatedly on the floorboards, his hands clenched, his legs bouncing.

“No, no, no,” I said, slumping down next to him. The agony amplified, and I shoved all the energy I had left into the bond. I forced it into him, willing it to keep him alive.

“You promised. You said you’d stay alive. You better keep that promise, you Bastard,” I told him.

Footsteps echoed around me, and I threw myself on him, rounding on the intruders with a snarl, my fangs extended.

“Whoa, easy there,” Guin said, holding up her hands. The others poured through the doors behind her, their clothes bearing the signs of the battle. Bloody. Beat up. Disheveled. I registered none of it.

“He’s seizing,” Poe said. “Don’t hold him down. Get him on his side.”

“Let me see him,” Aquila said.

The human in me recognized them as my friends, my family. But the animal, the one who had just lived through a ritual and fought off countless vampires only for her mate to keel over, didn’t want anyone touching him.

“Baby, let them help,” Poe said, brushing his fingers down my cheek. “Come on.”

Growling, I slowly backed away. Aquila took my place, resting a hand on Lycan’s chest. Maeve and Sol went to help Moose while Mill and Bow took care of Locust. It was only then that I realized the pack had wiped out any remaining vampires in the room. Body parts and rotten blood lined the ancient tapestries.

My focus returned to Lycan. Poe wrapped his arms around me and helped me to my feet, holding me tight. Together, we hurled our magic into our mating bond, wrapping it around Lycan’s, forcing him to accept it, to receive it, to use it.

“We need to get out of here and burn the place,” Orion said. “Get him up.”

I gripped Lycan’s hand as the others carried him out while he thrashed and convulsed. And that nascent tie between us, the one I’d spent so long wishing for, praying for, faded into a tiny sliver.

CHAPTER 30

Lycan

The afterlife wasn’t quite what I’d been told when I was a pup. The elders made it sound like nirvana, like the soul found rest when it moved on. From their stories, I imagined sunny beaches, piña coladas, and never-ending parties with my ancestors. I thought I’d get to see my parents again, get to tell them about all the amazing shit I’d done in my life, and watch from the great beyond as my descendants carried on the family legend. Which, admittedly, amounted to little more than being a terrible lush and attending the wildest orgies this side of Montana.

What I did not anticipate was the pain. Everything burned. My veins. My muscles. My literal brain. And an incessant beeping sound was enough to make me curse my existence. What kind of peaceful rest was this shit?

“It’s been a week,” came a familiar voice. Beautiful. Melodic. The kind of pitch that would bring me to my knees in the before times, when I’d been alive. “He still looks terrible.”

“You can’t rush healing,” said another voice, one I’d known my entire life, one I considered family.

Morwyn? Am I home?

“The marks healed up,” said a third voice, this one deeper and raspy. I loved that voice. I’d never been a poet, couldn’t even write a decent story, but I’d sing sonnets for that baritone. I’d do anything to keep it close, never let it go. “That’s promising.”

“He’s been through a lot,” said the second voice. “The silver. The ritual. The mating. It overwhelmed his system. His magic is recovering, but it will take time.”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

What the hell is that noise?

Make it stop.

I drifted into darkness again, and the voices faded into whispers, then silence. But still…no toasty white sand or refreshing coconut drinks greeted me—just the blankness of oblivion, the never-ending, boring dullness of nothing.

At least the fucking beeping was gone…

Until it wasn’t.

This time, it came back with a vengeance. Louder. Splitting. Hitting me right between the eyes. The pain wasn’t quite as bad. My body still ached, but only when I moved. Only when I breathed.

I squinted my eyes open and immediately closed them again, a bright light stabbing my corneas.