Soul of Flame (5 page)

He raised his eyes to the watchful pair. “What’s wrong with her?”

Rekkus just folded his arms and gave him a look that clearly said
mind your own fucking business
.

He tried a different tack. “You are sure she’s not here because of me?”

Cyrus looked thoughtful for a moment. “She’s here because she was involved in an accident. We will be assisting with her recovery.”

Which doesn’t answer my question at all
.

Scooting back on the bed, he crossed his legs in front of him. Time to forget about the little fae and focus on his own problems. “A fae captured me, held me against my will. She tortured me with ice because I wouldn’t give her what she wanted. I waited for my opportunity, and, the instant she let her guard down, I attacked her. She bargained her life for my freedom.” Drawing in a shuddering breath, he rolled his shoulders trying to relieve some of the tension racking his body.

“What did she want from you?” Rekkus murmured, a dangerous hint in his voice.

Shim didn’t want to tell the tiger what he already suspected. He didn’t want his suffering to stir up bad memories for Rekkus. The sad history of the last of the black tigers served as a warning to the other shifters. Rekkus’ father had force-bonded his mother, leading to her madness and the destruction of the rest of the family at her hand.

Shim studied his own hands, balled in tight fists resting on top of his thighs. “She tried to force a mating,” he whispered. The fury and despair in the snarl loosed from Rekkus, echoed his own.

“And the curse?” Cyrus prompted, turning the conversation back on track.

Shim nodded in gratitude and carried on talking. “I made her take me to the outskirts of the capital city. I knew I could get help there to find my way home. I didn’t want her anywhere near my lands. She wore a necklace, a talisman of some type she used to teleport between locations. I don’t know where she got it, but she would come and go, leaving me alone for days at a time.”

He trailed off, the memory of gnawing hunger rising in his gut. He shoved it away and forced himself to finish the story. “I got my claws in her throat. She pulled a mirror out of her pocket and held it up in front of us. Said until the image of hate reflected there changed to one of love, I would never find peace in my animal form. I didn’t realize what she was doing until she threw the mirror on the ground. I dived for it, releasing her in the process, and she ported away.” He remembered his scream of fury. The shattering of glass as his enemy escaped.

Cyrus drew a notepad out of his pocket, tore off the top page, and handed it to Shim.

He studied the list, a timetable of activities, before staring back in disbelief. “Yoga? Seeking Inner Contentment?
Aromatherapy fucking Massage?
You’re messing with me, right?” Waving the list around, he jumped off the bed and started pacing again.

“And you’ll spend an hour before dinner with the young weres, helping them with their control lessons. I’ll handle the wolves, but I need you to work with Ben. He’s a bear so works better on a one-to-one basis. Dana and the cubs need my attention, too.” The glare on Rekkus’ face at the mention of his mate and new family softened, and envy stabbed Shim’s heart.

Fighting his jealousy over the other shifter’s joy, he studied the list. “I know I’m going to regret asking this, but what does the P stand for?” The bold letter repeated every morning and afternoon.

“That’s from Sarka. She’s going to consult our cousin Janessa who has some skills with curse breaking. It will take a few attempts to perfect, but there are some potions she has in mind which may help to reduce your symptoms until the curse can be broken.” Cyrus spoke in such a benign voice.

Shim scowled at him. He did not like the idea of being a guinea pig for the eldest Rowan. “And if I don’t agree to this regimen?” He knew the answer but just wanted to be sure.

Rekkus pushed away from the wall. “You’ll be off the island with my boot up your arse,” he snapped, ushering Cyrus out of the room in front of him. The bar thudded down behind them, locking Shim in for the night.

“Someone will be here first thing to let you out. Don’t forget you’ve got Sun Salutations at dawn on the cliffs!” Rekkus’ laugh echoed down the corridor, and Shim raised his finger at the closed door.

Fucking yoga….

Ceara hesitated at the door to the dining room, scanning the area with care before she risked entering. A few guests had arrived before her, and they eyed her with interest. Slipping into the room, she took a table in the far corner. The patio doors stood open, and she shivered in the light breeze, but she wanted an exit point available to her.

The wait staff proved discreet and solicitous, bringing her a huge bowl of ripe strawberries, Greek yogurt, and a small pot of honey. An herbal shake and a glass of water were added to the table, and her server left her in peace. She tucked in, having missed her meal in all the turmoil the night before. Her spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl—distracted by the day’s activity list, she’d eaten everything.

A waft of jasmine and heather caught her attention. Sage stood next to the table, a sweet smile on her face. The pretty blonde woman carried such an aura of serenity Ceara smiled in response.

Sage held out her hand, and, drawing Ceara’s arm through hers, she led her out the door onto the large patio area. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to see you last night. Are you well?”

She nodded, allowing Sage to draw her back to the path she’d followed from her cottage earlier.

“I’ve been thinking about your problem. I believe the meadow will be a good place for us to begin your therapy.” The breeze caught Sage’s waist-length hair. She laughed, unhooking her arm to weave her wavy blonde locks into a quick plait. Ceara’s own hair lay concealed beneath the knit cap covering her ears. The sun held no warmth for her. Unlike Sage who wore a flowing skirt and thin white blouse, she hid under thick layers of clothing. It made no difference. The cold radiated from deep inside her.

They strolled along the path. Sage set a gentle pace, her light chatter filling in the blanks about the island not covered by Cemil when he’d escorted her to the cottage. Ceara let her mind drift until the mention of some hot springs caught her attention.

Sage smiled. “I thought they might capture your interest. You will have some free time later to explore them. Just keep following the path up past your cottage. It’s a hike, but the reward will be worth it.”

Reaching a set of intricate wooden gates, Sage swung them open to reveal a carpet of wildflowers and plants, stretching off to the horizon. The sight of bright-yellow blooms froze Ceara in fear, but Sage linked arms with her again, guiding her into the long grass.

“The meadow knows you, will display those plants and flowers most beneficial to you. You will be safe here.” The flowers nodded in the breeze as though agreeing with Sage’s statement, and Ceara brushed her fingers through the hip-high stems surrounding her.

Sage stood a couple of inches taller than her; the floaty clothing she favored flattered her curves. Ceara’s own frame tended toward leanness, although the number of layers she currently wore rounded her out.

Tucking her hand in her pocket, she shivered from cold and memory. “There was faebane,” she whispered. “I walked right into a trap, a fire set to draw my team there. To draw me there.” The full realization struck her, how the acrid scent of an accelerant disguised the sickly fragrance of the flowers. Someone had set out to harm
her
. Someone with a detailed knowledge of the fae and their weaknesses.

Sage murmured in sympathy, but didn’t interrupt, allowing her time to process her thoughts. She already carried the guilt of knowing her friends died because of her failure to control her power. Understanding they’d died because she’d hidden amongst the humans heaped more on her.

“I should never have tried to live in the human world.” She sighed. “I told myself working with the rescue squad benefited people, but now I see it was just an excuse to wield my power. I grew too cocky, too sure no one else knew about me. My hubris got them killed.” A tear rolled down Ceara’s cheek, and Sage reached for her hand and squeezed it.

“From what I understand, you saved a great many lives. Whoever targeted you is to blame. Try to remember that.”

They crested a small hill, and Sage paused. The sound of the Wiccan’s breath catching in her throat caused Ceara to follow her gaze. A stone circle rose in the distance, a ring of alternate tall and thin and short, wide stones surrounding a huge dolmen in the center.

“One of the things I love about the island is you never know what you will find.” Gathering her skirts, Sage ran through the long grass to the circle, Ceara close on her heels.

Stone circles were fae-linked. Some guarded gateways between the realms. Others acted like lodestones, carrying the spirit charge of the humans who worshipped the Lord and Lady. She had visited many of them during her exile, a way of retaining a connection to her own lands. She slipped between a pair of stones, the tall symbolizing male and the shorter female. Energy from the circle rose to greet her, and she sighed in relief. The circle still recognized her as fae, even without her powers. She’d feared the loss of them meant she was mundane. Sage stayed outside the ring, walking a slow circuit. Scattering herbs from the cloth bag over her shoulder, she paced clockwise, whispering a soft invocation.

Ceara approached the dolmen at the center of the circle, and the buzz of energy increased, drawing her closer until she stood beneath the capstone. Stretching her arms out, she could just brush her fingertips against the uprights on either side. The energy tingled against her skin, like sharp pinpricks. She soaked it in, her starved spirit beginning to recharge. Needing to get closer, she stripped down to just a thin tank and shorts. Goose bumps sprang up everywhere, and she pressed herself against the left-hand upright. Power surged over her skin, biting and sharp, but so welcome. The stone grew warm beneath her flesh. Up close she could see the myriad tiny colored crystals hidden within the gray. She turned, resting her back against the stone. Sage raised her arm in a parting wave then wandered through the grass in the direction of the gates.

Deep notches decorated the opposite upright. A fairy ladder. Wedging her fingers and toes into the grooves, Ceara scrambled up the side of the massive stone. Sinews straining, she pulled herself up on top of the capstone. The energy thrummed through the soles of her feet, and she turned in a slow circle to examine the horizon. She expected to be able to see the coastline from her vantage point, but the meadow stretched in every direction, a beautiful carpet of flowers.

She was alone. Sage had vanished from view, the flowers bobbing in the gentle breeze her sole companions. With a sigh of pleasure, she removed the last of her clothing and lay flat on the capstone. The energy from the circle hummed along her skin. Closing her eyes, she let it recharge her broken spirit.

Something tickled against her cheek. She brushed it away, but the sensation remained. Cracking one eye open, she looked for the source. A bud of hope unfurled in her heart when it dawned upon her…she could feel the warmth of the sun on her skin for the first time since the accident.

A rustle in the grass disturbed her. She raised her hand to shield her eyes. The sun shone high overhead now, dazzling her. Sitting up, she faced the noise and frowned at the tall man prowling through the meadow in her direction.

Jet-black hair lay close to his scalp, and his golden-brown skin glowed in the sun. His body flowed with the inborn grace of a shifter, and thick corded muscle packed his shoulders and arms. Dressed in a white T-shirt and cargo shorts, his feet bare, he ate up the distance until he paused at the edge of the circle. The lines feathered around his eyes and two deep grooves etched between his dark brows spoke of age and experience. A scruff of beard graced his jaw and upper lip, flecks of silver glinting in the bright sunshine. His jade eyes gave her the final piece in an unwanted puzzle.
The jaguar.

Although he remained outside the circle, his presence unnerved her. The hairs on the back of her neck bristled, things long dormant stirring deep in her belly. Rising to her feet, she drew upon every harsh lesson learned at court. Women of the Emerald did not get intimidated by walking beasts—no matter how attractive.
Not possible.

His gaze traced over her naked form, she fought the urge to preen beneath his attention.

“You were told to stay away from me.”

“I was.” His deep voice rumbled in his chest, and her nipples pebbled in response.

Words flooded her mind. Primal, base, earthy. Nothing like the preening fools at court nor the softer humans she’d met. Hard, strong, resilient. A man worthy to stand beside the daughter of a queen. His presence prickled over her skin like fireflies dancing in a dusky evening sky.

Taking a step forward, he breached the perimeter of the circle. The energy flowing through her body took on a different resonance. Sharp, fierce power flooded her veins, and she threw her head back, crying out. The world shifted on its axis, the meadow around them altering beyond recognition. The atmosphere thickened, hot and humid with a hint of sulfur. Fronded palms waved in the breeze, choking vines curled around thick trunks, bright tropical flowers spread out before her eyes.

She glanced down, and he stood right there at the foot of the dolmen, his jade eyes glowing. He captured her gaze, held it with ease—not something many men could do—and it ramped up her excitement. He couldn’t be called good-looking, in any conventional sense. His features, too scarred and age battered to be considered pretty, were raw, compelling. She wanted nothing more than to leap from her high perch into his embrace.

As though sensing her desire, he took a step back, braced his legs apart, and raised his arms. She swayed on her feet. The energy beneath her pulsed like a heartbeat, strong and steady. Her clit thrummed in time with the flow.

A soft growl rippled around the circle. He drew in a breath and licked his lips. A flush of heat bloomed on her cheeks and throat. Shifters had an amazing sense of smell, and her sudden arousal would be obvious to him. He beckoned impatiently, but she shook her head, fighting his overwhelming presence. Relief vied with disappointment when he retreated, until the moment he paused. Taking three quick steps, he used his powerful leg muscles to spring upward, landing in a crouch at her feet. He crawled across the flat stone, his movements echoing the slinking motion of his hunting cat, until his face pressed into the vee of her thighs.