Noah’s boots crunched across the forest floor with the crackling of the brittle leaves filling the otherwise silent forest. After the vampire and its entourage vacated the territory, the warrior wolves trickled off one by one, returning to their homes for a well-deserved sleep. Sylvie had offered to let him ride her back to the cabin, but he declined and, instead, decided to walk the few hours home in solitude.
The silence of the pre-dawn darkness didn’t help him sort through his chaotic thoughts as much as he had hoped. Rampant thoughts flittered through his mind, too quick for him to grasp substantial ideas or true feelings before another thought took its place. The past that he had run from his entire life had finally found him tonight, and it refused to release him from its grasp without a fight.
His steps slowed until he came to a stop between two towering trees. Gazing up at the brightening sky, the day’s first rays of gentle sunlight bathed his face in warmth, erasing winter’s chill from the night before.
Decisions, decisions. Last night’s events had presented him with an unsolvable conundrum. Did he move on from his past and let Negative 3 suffer her fate? Or did he abandon his new home and leave his new family to face the Unseelie threat alone? Either way, it seemed he couldn’t achieve peace without obtaining closure.
Increasing his speed, his stroll through the woods became a full-on jog as he raced home to seek Sylvie’s advice. There was no reason to torture himself with these questions when he had a mate waiting to share this burden with him in their cabin. Chirping birds cheered him on as he crushed the dead leaves beneath his boots, and his fogging breath disappeared as the sun warmed the surrounding air.
With a painful cramp in his ribs, he finally emerged from the trees, panting heavily and soaked with sweat. A loving warmth filled his heart as he gazed at the picturesque scene of their isolated cabin. Smoke billowed from the chimney, promising a roaring fire to warm his frozen fingers. His mate stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips and pursing her lips in artificial aggravation. All that was missing was a steaming pie on the windowsill and Sylvie naked save for an apron. The pie was possible, but he didn’t think Sylvie would wear an apron willingly. Perhaps he could convince her it was some type of human armor?
Crossing the distance that separated him from his mate, he slowed as the mock annoyance didn’t fade from her face. He adorned his face with his most charming smile and raised his arms, inviting his mate to jump into his loving embrace. She didn’t. Okay, maybe it was genuine annoyance at him.
Glancing at her tapping foot and pursed lips, he slowly lowered his arms to his sides. “Have you been waiting long, my mate?”
“Oh, no. In fact, I returned home only a few minutes ago,” Sylvie said while inspecting him up and down as if she were searching for injuries.
“Hmm, that’s strange. With your speed, you should have returned hours ago,” he said, studying every variable that could have slowed her down and how she could possibly blame him for it.
She nodded her head, agreeing with him much too quickly for him to feel comfortable. “You would think so, but my mate wished to be alone with his thoughts.” Her features softened, and concern for him overpowered her aggravation at whatever he had done. “Which I understand, and I will grant you anything you desire if it will help you, Noah.”
Filled with warmth, he nodded his head and wrapped her in a loving hug. “Thank you—”
“The problem is that I needed to stalk my mate through the woods for hours, all while keeping out of sight so I wouldn’t intrude on his solitude,” she interrupted him, and her annoyance flooded back.
“You see, my mate, the warrior wolves caught Silas constructing lethal traps throughout the woods, any of which would have ended your life in an instant. Amazingly, you wandered within feet of your death multiple times on your perusing journey.”
After becoming rigid with the electric shock that coursed through him, he attempted to pull away, but her arms only tightened around him.
“Perhaps you’d like to explain why Luna almost burned down the crafter’s cabin attempting to concoct a poison that would introduce iron directly into an Unseelie’s bloodstream?” she whispered into his ear, causing him to shiver in fear…or possibly desire.
“We…they…the pack doesn’t have a designated crafter,” he answered, floundering through his lies like some novice trickster.
“Apparently, we do now! And to think, none of them asked the Alpha of their pack for permission!” she exclaimed in mock surprise.
“Luna and Silas did what? And without our knowledge? This cannot stand Sylvie. We must remind them that they answer to the Alpha. In fact, I will go to their treehouse right now to reprimand them.” He again tried to break free of her grasp, but he had a better chance of breaking through steel.
“When I questioned where they had come across such maniacal ideas, they shared with me manuals of an unknown origin. The books were some type of manifesto authored by a madman. Insanity leaked across the pages of and pages of demented ramblings, and it illustrated some of the most devilish designs the world has ever seen.”
“We must not let this lunatic’s theories spread amongst the pack. Did we discover any clues of the heretical book’s origin?” he asked in a nervous voice, holding his breath as he awaited his fate.
Sylvie snorted and shook her head, causing their cheeks to rub together in less of a romantic way and more of a psychotic way. “Unfortunately, the books lacked a signature from the author who penned them.”
“Most unfortunate indeed. Evil villains cower behind anonymity when conducting heinous acts,” he said, sighing in relief as his confidence stormed back.
Sylvie nodded and nipped at his ear, battering down his defenses one by one. Who needed torture when you had such methods at your disposal? By the time her tongue flicked his earlobe, he was willing to cough up any information she wanted to know.
Lightly grabbing his cheeks with two hands, she pulled away and stared into his eyes. The glowing silver muddled his mind and stole his senses as she whispered, “But then, I remembered my mate asking me to trade for blank books in the marketplace. For the entire week you were injured, you barely lifted your quill, and I remember becoming enraptured as each stroke of your pen danced across the pages with spectacular passion.”
“Imagine my surprise when, upon inspection of the dangerous text, an imprint of an extremely rare cowboy hat greeted me on the cover,” she said with a smile, finally releasing him and allowing him to retreat a few steps.
“You think someone is forging my name? Have I fallen victim to identity theft?” he asked with a gasp, covering his mouth in scandalous affront. She had nothing on him, so he could still save this. Deny, deny, deny.
“Of course, the real insight into the mystery came when Luna tried to defend her new ‘master’ and named you directly,” Sylvie said with a smug smile on her face as she watched him squirm.
“Dammit, Luna,” he said, throwing his hands up in exasperation. What happened to page twenty-three?
The jig was up, and he released an accepting sigh. “I can explain, Sylvie. I needed to apologize to the siblings for my escape attempt. It was unexpected how seriously they would take the books, but incorporating some of the ideas in there could enhance the security of the forest.”
“Don’t worry, my mate. We acknowledged the potential of their experiments and allowed them to continue as long as they adequately marked the traps in the woods. Only a wolf’s nose will distinguish the markings, so no more meandering through the trees without an escort.”
Confused by the lack of anger in her voice, he glanced at her and spied a mischievous smile on her face. “If you aren’t mad, why was I just interrogated?”
“I thought your mind could use a distraction after last night. Did I make a mistake?” she asked, insecurity causing her voice to become hesitant.
“No, it was perfect. Thank you, Sylvie,” he whispered, pulling her back into their hug. Perhaps only his mate was devious enough to concoct such a scheme to comfort him, and perhaps only he could find comfort in such a devious scheme.
After embracing for a few moments, Sylvie pulled back, grabbing his hand and interlocking their fingers. “Now, come inside, Noah. We need to discuss last night.”
He stood in front of the roaring fire, flexing his frozen fingers and removing his trench coat and boots. Sylvie sat at the table, waiting patiently for him to share his thoughts with her. Once the scorching flames began to make him sweat and burn his skin, he joined her at the table, not knowing how to begin.
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“Did you know that, vampire? Did she bring back painful memories for you?” Sylvie asked in a whisper, stroking her thumb across the mating mark on his hand.
“I did not know her.”
“Then what has burdened my mate with so much pain?” she asked, cocking her head in confusion.
“I did not know the vampire, but I knew the thrall it feasted upon,” he said in a strained voice, eyes fogging as the past threatened to steal his present. “That was the little sister I told you about, Negative 3. I abandoned her to save myself, and she has paid the price for my selfishness.”
A gasp drew his attention to Sylvie, whose hand covered her mouth and whose form flickered with intense emotion. With a deep breath, she controlled herself and nodded to him, inviting him to continue.
Throwing his cowboy hat on the table, he ran his hands through his black hair with a long sigh. “I have tried hiding from it, running from it, and forgetting it, but nothing has worked. I will not achieve the freedom I sought so many years ago unless I defeat the demons from my past.”
“We will face them together, my mate,” she said, gripping his hand tighter in reassurance.
“How can we face them together, Sylvie? You are an alpha. You can’t abandon your pack for months or even years at a time for personal reasons.”
“We will figure out a way as soon as we deal with the Unseelie,” she whispered, ignoring the logical points he had raised.
He slammed his fist against the table, but with his human strength, he could not cause the destruction he wished for. “And how long must Negative 3 suffer while we wait for those bastard creatures to attack? How long would you ask me to bask in the joy this new life has brought me while she is tortured in the darkness of the caverns? At some point, valid reasoning turns into unjustifiable excuses.”
“The pack cannot face the fury of two territories. We can’t gallivant off into the Wilds and attack a vampire coven while leaving our territory vulnerable, Noah,” she answered calmly in the face of his anger.
“So you suggest I bide my time and wait for the opportune moment?” he asked, standing up from his chair and walking to the fire. He stared at the flickering flames as the heat burned his skin and singed the tips of his hair. A shuffling noise sounded behind him as Sylvie followed him to the hearth until she stood so close to him that he could feel her breath on his neck.
“Throwing your life away won’t save her, my mate,” Sylvie whispered, hugging him from behind and resting her chin on the top of his shoulder. “To help her, we will have to plan our actions instead of acting on impulse. Once we survive the upcoming turmoil, we can figure out how to help them together.”
She nuzzled his ear from behind, and he caressed her forearm for comfort. He took a deep breath before nodding his head in acquiescence. Every time he rushed into something without thinking, things only became worse. Case in point: his escape attempt that had created this entire mess. This time, he would be patient, and instead of running off alone, he would wait for his mate and pack to support him.
“After we defeat the Unseelie, I won’t wait any longer, Sylvie. I will find a way to save not only Negative 3 but all the humans wasting away in the blackness of the caverns,” he vowed to Sylvie, himself, and any gods who may have been listening.
Sylvie sighed, shaking her head and draping her raven hair over his shoulder and down his chest. “You might have escaped the caverns and gained your bodily freedom twelve years ago, my mate, but you have entrapped your mind in a prison of your own making ever since. The cell has been unlocked, but you have refused to walk through the doorway to truly claim your freedom.”
“How can I? Those I left behind shackle me. The weight of their sacrifice and pain won’t allow me to take that final step, no matter how much strength I use,” he whispered as his eyes filled with tears.
“I will lend my strength to you so that you can carry that weight, my mate. You need only to accept it,” Sylvie whispered into his hair. As the wood crackled and hissed in the hearth, he nodded in acceptance of her offer. Accepting help was easier said than done, but only a fool would slap away a helping hand.
***
Over the next few days, stunning signs of change became apparent. At night, Noah tossed and turned with insomnia, fretting over Negative 3 and her fate, but he didn’t suffer debilitating nightmares. Disturbing images didn’t appear in his mind with obsessive regularity, and refuse to allow hope and positivity to take their place.
Whenever his emotions overwhelmed him, the words that so often had died in his throat over the years flowed like a river to his mate, who stood ready to share his burdens and worries. Instead of erecting invisible barriers and isolating himself from the world, he took comfort in socializing with his pack.
He didn’t know when, but some kind of seal had broken inside of him, allowing him to deal with his guilt and anxiety in a healthier manner. Whatever foreign power had controlled him like a puppet the past decade had lost its tendrils of influence on his mind, allowing the sun to brighten his shadowed soul.
One afternoon, he lay on Sylvie’s bed with his hat covering his eyes while he attempted to balance his cane on its handle. He was making progress in the useless skill, but for the eighth time in a row, his hand grasped only air as the cane swayed and fell onto its side. It rattled against the wood floor just beyond his reach, forcing him to sit upright on the bed.
As his fingers curled around the handle, the door to the cabin slammed open, leaving him to wonder if doors, not vampires, were the wolves’ mortal enemy. Standing up from the bed, he examined his mate, who practically vibrated with excitement in the doorway. She hid her hands behind her back and fidgeted with unbridled anticipation.
“Well, hello, my mate. You seem awfully excited this afternoon. Did you finally realize that I should become the alpha of the pack?”
Her excitement dissipated, and she glared at him with blazing silver eyes. “If you want to be alpha, Noah, you must challenge me for the crown.”
“Perhaps you should. After I defeat you, imagine the pleasure I could demand as my reward,” she said in a sultry whisper, with her eyes drooping with lustful intoxication.
Was he unhinged for being attracted to an unhinged mate? He couldn’t tell, but he certainly didn’t care.
With her arms still behind her back, Sylvie shook off whatever erotic daydreams had ensnared her mind and started to vibrate with excitement once more. “I have a present for you, Noah. I’m sorry it has taken me so long, but I had to request a certain merchant to hunt the materials down.”
She flung her arms in front of her to reveal a bundle of cloth enclosed with twine. Taking the bundle in his hands, he felt the multiple objects clack against one another underneath the concealing cloth. Sylvie’s eyes followed his fingers as he carefully untied the twine and released his gift from its prison. As the cloth floated gently to the floor, he gasped when a glass jar of bright blue ink and a tattoo needle appeared.
“I believe...,” Sylvie said, removing her shirt until she was topless and baring her left shoulder to him. “…that you have a mate to mark.”
With a wicked smirk, she glanced over her shoulder at him and explained, “This ink is made from fae dyes, and although it won’t glow in the dark, it carries the infused magic of their homeland. Your mating mark will contain just as much magic as mine does, Noah.”
“Thank you, Sylvie. This is the greatest gift I have ever received, and for all time I will cherish this —”
“Hurry up, Noah! I have waited long enough!” she snapped, causing him to jump and juggle the bottle of ink before securing it with a glare.
“Fine! Let’s just remove all traces of romance and charm, shall we? Lay down on the bed,” he demanded, satisfaction flowing through him as her eyes flared at his challenge, but she followed his commands.
Not fearing a potential infection with Sylvie’s immune system, he wiped her shoulder with a damp cloth before patting it dry. He had already decided on his design weeks ago and began to tattoo her with the greatest artistic touch he could manage.
Smoke rose from her skin as he injected the ink containing trace amounts of silver, but Sylvie didn’t so much as flinch from the pain as he punctured her skin with the needle repeatedly. With her sizzling skin hissing hideous screams, his stomach churned at having to stab his mate with a needle covered in poison, but it was the only way to ensure the ink would set permanently.
After a few hours, during which Sylvie never made a sound, he wiped the tattoo and led Sylvie to the window. She gazed over her shoulder at her reflection in the glass and traced the newly tattooed image with a gentle finger. It was a simple design, but nothing represented him more than a cowboy hat with a cane lying across the bill.
“Now, everyone will know that you are mine, my mate,” he declared with a nod of his head. “You will see my mark every day on your skin and will know it signifies loyalty, honesty, and love. You will never be alone with any burden, for my strength has become yours, and the weight of your burdens will be shared upon my shoulders.”
She didn’t respond, still transfixed by her reflection in the mirror, and continued to trace his mark. Giving her some time to inspect the tattoo, he stared at the empty bottle of ink that had allowed him to express his love in a visible way to the world. Perhaps his blind eyes had opened just a sliver—value indeed, Isla.
He placed the empty jar on the table and returned to Sylvie, gripping her shoulders and spinning her around so that he could examine his handiwork. After tracing the irritated skin, he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his mark, shocking Sylvie into a shiver. Fearing he had hurt her, he glanced at her reflection in the window, but instead of wincing in pain, her silver eyes glowed with desire, brighter than he had ever seen them. As she spun around to face him, something in her eyes caused him to gulp.
“What happened to not risking pregnancy during times of war, my mate?” he asked with a trembling voice, retreating slowly toward the bed. She stalked him with slow, predatory steps until the back of his knees hit the mattress. With a gentle shove, she pushed him onto the bed with a growl. As she unbuttoned his ruffled shirt, her lust-filled eyes cleared for a moment as if just remembering the iron-clad rule she had enforced since their mating.
“Oh, my mate, there are many things we can do that won’t risk pups,” she said, petting his cheeks with the back of her fingers.
“Lay on the bed, Noah,” she demanded with a growl.
Noah firmed in futile defiance, reluctant to relinquish complete control over himself to another person. “Now, hold on. I don’t think you should order me aro—”
“Lay on the bed now!”
His traitorous body nodded and lay on the bed before his brain could bargain with it. She crawled on all fours until she straddled him and pinned his arms over his head, leaving him at her mercy.
She kissed him tenderly on the mouth and whispered, “You are going to do exactly what I say, my mate…” she kissed him again before nipping at his neck. “… when I say it…” she kissed his collarbone. “… and precisely how I say it.”
She paused her teasing temptations and sought his consent one last time. “Tell me, my mate. Will you succumb to me?”
He stared into her glowing silver eyes and voluntarily surrendered his precious freedom to the one who had earned his trust. “Yes, my mate.”