Chapter 19
Viviane’s POV
“How is this possible?”
Caspian is still standing over Mordred in wolf form, his fangs dripping with blood. His paws are planted on my attacker’s chest, pinning him to the ground with bruising force, but Caspian’s attention is fixed solely on me.
At first it hadn’t even occurred to me that he couldn’t speak when shifted, I simply heard his voice and responded reflexively. Now it seems all too surreal, can I really be hearing Caspian speak in my mind?
“You’re mates.” Chase explains evenly, still trying to balance Caspian’s out-of-control emotions with his unfailing calm. “It’s right for you to be linked this way.”
My eyes swing back and forth between the men. “Does it work both ways?”
Chase is watching his friend closely, seeming to notice the way Caspian’s focus lingers on my ripped clothing. Before answering he pulls off his jacket, moving forward to offer me the garment.
I leap backward out of Chase’s reach, my mind registering nothing but the fact that a man is approaching me. My back hits the wall, and my bones rattle against the bricks with the force of my shaking.
Both men pause, studying me warily and doubtless exchanging their own silent conversation. Chase sets his jacket on the ground between us and backs away, returning to the topic at hand. “There’s only one way to find out if the link is mutual.” He states simply, nodding with approval when I slink forward to take up his jacket and wrap it around my body. “Try to send Caspian a message.”
My brows wrinkle as I struggle to choose the right words for this test. Before I can make a decision, Kiera comes flying around the corner, skidding to a stop when she sees our gory little assembly. Smears of thick scarlet liquid varnish the stone floors, and Mordred’s pitiful whines grate at my frayed nerves.
I’m not the only one. While Kiera hurtles to my side, fussing over my torn clothes and bruised skin, Caspian takes a bite out of Mordred’s shoulder, giving his body a ferocious shake until the beaten shifter ceases whimpering.
“Are you all right?” Kiera frets, wiping a bit of blood from the corner of my mouth.
The lie is on the tip of my tongue, I want to tell her I’m okay, but Caspian’s foreboding expression prevents the words from coming out. It’s strange how easily I can read him in this form. “No,” I choke, shaking my head, “I’m not.”
She throws her arms around me, rubbing my back and whispering soothing nonsense in my ear. Her sudden proximity does not frighten me the way Chase’s did. I sense no threat from her touch, instead melting into her sympathetic hold.
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.
As if he can hear my internal recitations, Caspian shifts on the spot. The imposing gray wolf disappears, replaced by a very large, very naked man. I determinedly avert my gaze, wanting him close but not prepared for such an intimate sight – especially not right now. He pulls a couple of towels from the supply closet, scrubbing the blood from his face with one and wrapping the other around his waist.
“Take care of that, will you?” Caspian orders Chase, nodding towards Mordred’s limp form as he slowly approaches Kiera and I. I wait for the same primal fear which blazed when Chase came near, but it never rises. Instead the tide of emotion already rising amidst Kiera’s comfort swells into a powerful wave, threatening to drown me.
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.
Just hold on a little longer, baby. Caspian’s low bass quiets my nervous chant, confirming once and for all that our mental link does go both ways. I’m going to get you out of here.
His words settle in my heart, helping me recognize that I’m not merely unafraid of the shifter, but that he represents a security feminine consolation simply cannot provide. Caspian will protect and take care of me until his dying breath, and he is not an easy man to kill.
I cling to Kiera while he trades keys with Chase, suffering a stab of guilt for wishing to be in Caspian’s arms instead of hers. Luckily I don’t have to wait long. He reaches for me a moment later and I clamber into the steel cage of his arms, a grateful sigh on my lips.
My fear and dread ebbs almost instantly, relieved by the press of his bare skin on mine. My distress transforms to tranquil calm; I know I will be safe as long as Caspian is with me. I’ve never trusted anyone so completely.
He’s right. I muse, finally admitting the truth, even if it is only to myself. Caspian is my mate.
Mordred’s POV
The Nightshade Citadel lies at the base of the austere rift valley which cleaves Asterion in two. Hundreds of feet below a suspension bridge connecting the two halves of the city, a stone fortress houses all those deemed unworthy of mixing with the pack.
I’ve seen the prison a thousand times, looking down on the bleak structure from far above and pitying the wretches doomed to live out their days in such a lonely place. Now I am one of them, crammed into a dark, windowless cell without so much as a trial to determine my fate.
One minute I was broken and bleeding beneath that mongrel Alpha heir, the next I was here, half-healed but trapped. Only the Gods know how long I am destined to suffer this outrage, but I’ve already decided to dedicate my incarceration to plotting revenge.
It’s inconceivable that so much upset could be caused by that worthless child. Viviane is beautiful to be sure, but she has no wealth, standing or title in the pack. She is a feline interloper from the slums, no more worthy of Caspian Shaw’s attention than an insect. He cannot possibly care so much about one silly girl.
This must be about something more, some larger picture I was standing too close to see.
I scrape my claws over the iron bars guarding the doorway, picturing all the ways I will make Viviane and her would-be protector pay. I have plenty of creative ideas for reminding the girl of her proper place, but taking on the future Alpha is a bit more difficult.
As if conjured by my dark musings, a new scent announces the arrival of another shifter, though I see no one. The lamps in the hallway flicker and burn out, as footsteps draw close. Sitting up anxiously, I squint into the shadows. I haven’t come across anyone since waking up here: no guards, no fellow prisoners or visitors. Whoever approaches now clearly doesn’t want to be seen, which does not bode well for me.
“You look like you’ve had a hell of a day.” The words float to me through the darkness, a cold intonation from some hidden onlooker.
“Who are you?” I reply immediately, “Show yourself.”
A humorless laugh carries to my ears, “I hardly think you’re in a position to make demands.” The strange man’s biting tone flips back to nonchalance with practiced ease. “Just think of me as a friend.”
“The kind of friend who will get me out of here?” I inquire hopefully.
“If we can come to an agreement.” My visitor concedes. “You see, we have a common enemy.”
“We do?” I parrot dumbly.
Loathing coats the man’s tongue. “Yours isn’t the only life the Shaw family has destroyed.”
My curiosity piques, “You too?”
“We are nothing but pawns to the Alphas.” The stranger replies in answer. “They care about no one but themselves, and they’ll demolish anything or anyone who stands in the way of their selfish desires.” In his passion, the man steps far enough forward to reveal a single black boot. “They twist their power to abuse and intimidate pack members, moving us around like pieces on a chessboard – and we let them. We just bend over and take it. But no more.”
“What are you planning?”
“That isn’t important right now. The important thing is that I can help you.” He coaxes, “I can get you out of here.”
Unease filters into my excitement. “Why would you do that for me?”
A poisonous laugh echoes through the darkness. “Because you’re going to help me, of course.”
“With what?” I press, “I won’t agree unless you tell me.”
“You will.” He scoffs. “Nobody knows you’re here, Mordred. No one is going to come looking for you. Your daughter might ask questions but with you out of the way, she inherits your fortune and will be free to spend it however she wishes. It won’t be long before she stops looking.”
How does he know all this, how does he know about Nerissa? “The Shaws will leave you to rot down here.” The man continues bitterly, “Even if they let you live, you will never see the light of day again. You’ll help me, because I’m the only chance you have for a future.”
“Life in a cell might be better than death for treason. How do you expect to take on both Jasper and Caspian?” I interrogate, “They are scions of the most powerful shifter bloodline we’ve seen in centuries. What chance do you possibly stand against them?”
“Power isn’t just about brute strength.” He hisses, “I have allies, powerful allies beyond Nightshade territory who have already vowed to back my plans.”
“Then why do you need me?” I growl. “What could I possibly give you that they can’t?”
“Plenty.” The stranger pronounces cryptically, “But we’ll start with your loyalty.”
This has to be a trap – or a suicide mission, it’s too suspicious to be anything else. And yet, he’s right. What other choice do I have?
“Do we have a deal?”
