Bonds That Break (The Havoc Chronicles Book 3) (20 page)

Each word hurt – a knife stabbed into my heart. I was the cause of Rhys going feral.
I
caused this.

The dragon continued. "Soon even use of your Berserker powers will cause him to go feral. Not long after that, just your very presence will be enough to trigger it."

Before I could say anything more, the dragon lifted itself once again, and climbed partially up the tree before leaning its massive head down to speak one last time.

"But if you still need proof that I am telling you the truth, feel free to test it." He slithered around the tree and disappeared from view. 

The world around me fell apart.

I woke up drenched in sweat, Rhys still asleep beside me. I closed my eyes again, wishing that this was the kind of dream where I could be relieved it was over when I woke up. But deep down, I knew it wasn't an ordinary dream.

I was the cause of Rhys going feral.

Me.

And the only way to keep him sane was to leave him. Sure, I could stay with him for a while if I didn't use my powers, but it was only a matter of time until just my presence would cause him to go feral.

How could I possibly live with that? I couldn't bear to have Rhys go feral, but I couldn't bear to be away from him either. It was a no-win situation. Either I left the man I loved, or he would go crazy if I stayed.

Either way I lost.

Hot tears poured out of me. I felt sick. Broken. My world had been pulled out from under me. All my plans, my dreams, my hopes, had in the course of one vision been destroyed.

I lay next to Rhys, feeling his presence – his warmth and solidity. I could almost feel the moments we had together ticking away, slipping through my fingers. How could I go on like this?

My sobs, or the very real possibility of drowning in my tears, must have disturbed Rhys because he began to stir. I waited, braced to take action if he woke up feral again.

He opened his beautiful blue eyes and smiled up at me. It only lasted for a moment before my puffy red eyes and tear-streaked cheeks registered.

Rhys sat up, immediately alert. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Everything," I said, my voice breaking and the flood of tears increasing. I grabbed him and pulled him into a tight hug, unable to do anything but sob into his chest.

He held me for what could have been a few minutes or possibly hours. I was so torn up and confused I couldn't even tell any more. When I had calmed down enough that I could once again speak, I told him about my dream.

The look of despair on Rhys' face as I told him what I had learned was more than I could handle. I had to turn away as I spoke and avoid looking at him.

When I finished, I continued staring at the wall. I couldn't bring myself to look at Rhys and risk seeing that expression of pain and suffering. It would be more than I could bear.

I felt a light touch on my cheek as Rhys reached out and gently turned me so I could look at him. Instead of the despair and hopelessness I had expected to find, there was an expression of resolve and defiance.

"I will not," he said, slowly and deliberately, enunciating every word, "let this tear us apart, Madison." His expression was both fierce and loving at the same time.

He was my Rhys.

"But how can we stop it?" I asked. "You can't control what my Binder powers do to you. It won't be long until just being around me will turn you feral. How can we stop that?"

Rhys shook his head. "I don't know," he said. His voice was soft, but his expression still determined. "But I do know that I have not waited this long to find love only to give up on it now. I will not stop until I figure out a way to beat this. I will move mountains and drain oceans if I have to, but I will not give up. Do you hear me? I will not."

Looking into his eyes I could almost believe that there was a way to make this work.

Almost.

"So what do we do?" I asked.

"Let's start with a test to make sure that it really is your binder powers that make me feral."

"What, here?"

Rhys shrugged. "Why not?"

"Because we're on a boat in the middle of the ocean." I said. "Because you might kill everyone on board. Because I’m scared to death that if it is my magic, and you do go feral, that you may never make it back. How about those reasons?"

For a moment Rhys didn't say anything and scrunched his brow in concentration. If the situation were not quite so dire, I would have been completely distracted by how cute it made him look.

"Let's try this," he said at last. "It's your Binder magic that’s supposed to make me feral, right? So, let's have you cast your strongest snare on me. If nothing happens, you can just let me go. But, if your magic does cause the problem, you said that your snare was strong enough to hold me immobile. You can hold me until I pass out like the time before."

"But what if you get loose?" I asked.

"Better on a ship in the middle of the ocean than in a crowded city. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I guess," I said. His logic made a sort-of-twisted sense. If he did get loose here, there would be far fewer casualties than if we waited until we got back to the mainland. I was just so relieved to have him back from going feral that I was extremely nervous to attempt anything that might put him back into that state of rage.

"We need to know," said Rhys. "
I
need to know. If this is true, I need to start looking for a solution."

Slowly, I nodded. I dreaded doing this, but Rhys was right, we needed to know. I wasn't about to give up on my love with Rhys based on what might just be a dream, but if it were true, we needed to be prepared, take precautions, and most importantly, look for a cure.

I walked the two steps it took to get to the far side of the small cabin while Rhys remained on the bed. I tried to mentally prepare myself for what I was about to do, but how could you ever feel ready to cause your boyfriend to become a mass-murdering monster?

I really hoped my dream was wrong.

Standing there, taking deep breaths felt like standing on the edge of a pool. You know that sooner or later you will have to jump in and that waiting simply delays the inevitable, but you still can't bring yourself to do it. Except this pool was full of rage and pain, and there was no guarantee of ever getting out of it.

At this moment, there was still hope that the vision was wrong. The moment I cast the snare, we would find out one way or the other if Rhys would become a murderous rampaging monster.

Can you blame me for hesitating?

Rhys nodded at me. "You can do it," he said.

I felt the tears once again begin to roll down my cheeks. I took in a steadying breath. This was it. I was going to do it. Any minute now. Right now. Or now.

Or now.

Black cables flew from my fingers wrapping Rhys tightly from head to toe, his arms pinned to his side.

Nothing happened.

Rhys looked up at me and smiled, relief clearly visible on his face. The dream had been wrong. We could be together!

And then his eyes rolled back in his head, and he fell limp against my snare.

"Rhys? Rhys?" I cried. "Wake up! Don't do this!"

But when he opened his eyes, they were glowing red.

Chapter 12

Bitter Medicine

I spent the next day holding the man I loved prisoner. Fortunately, by the time we had to get off the yacht, he had passed out, and I was able to carry him off the boat in my arms, the snare that kept him captive invisible to everyone but me.

I cried a lot during that time. My worst fears had been confirmed and an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness weighed me down and sucked all the joy out of my heart.

The words Rhys had said to me about never giving up still ran through my mind and were the only thing that kept me sane during this dark journey. I held those precious words tightly and tried to focus on the hope they offered, not the bleak reality that kept punching me in the face whenever I let my mental guard down. 

I chartered a private jet to take us home. I didn't want to risk the awkward questions that would come with a commercial flight, and my experience had been that with enough money crew members would keep quiet and give us privacy. Also, if something did happen with Rhys, the cold reality was there were fewer people on a private jet.

Halfway through the flight, Rhys woke up. I had laid him down on a leather couch and sat so that his head rested on a pillow in my lap. He had woken up several times before, but this time his eyes were normal. He looked up at me, took in the interior of the jet, and frowned.

"I guess our little experiment didn't work out so well?" he asked.

My throat felt too tight to get any words out. What was I supposed to say? Sorry, Rhys, but you go feral anytime I use my binder powers around you. I hope that isn't a problem?

Instead, I just shook my head.

Rhys slowly sat up and rubbed his eyes. He looked exhausted. "We will get through this," he promised.

It took me a minute to find my voice. "You can't know that," I said.

Rhys pondered my words for a moment. "I don't have any proof," he said. "I know things look bad. Really bad. But I also know things will work out for us. Someway, somehow, we will get through this and be stronger for it."

"Isn't that just wishful thinking?" I asked. I wanted to believe. I really did. But I couldn't see any scenario where this could possibly work out. I was losing my faith in us. You can only have so many bad things happen before you start to expect them.

"There’s a difference between having hope and wishful thinking," said Rhys. He squeezed my hand tighter. "I still have hope that we can and will get through this. I don't have all the answers now, but I know that as we need them the answers will come. I’m not giving up on us."

***

I kept a close eye on Rhys for the rest of the trip. He didn't show any signs of going feral, but it was obvious that he was still exhausted. He couldn't stay awake for very long at a time and the least bit of exertion tired him out completely. But at least he was still Rhys and hadn't gone feral again.

We brought the venom to Shing, straight from the airport. We found him still watching over my unconscious dad. As he had promised, Shing had not left Dad's side for long, if at all.

I knelt beside my father's bed and stroked his face, which I noticed was clean shaven. Obviously Shing had been seeing to his care. I held his hand for a moment, secretly hoping that my presence would somehow register with his unconscious mind and cause him to wake up.

It did not.

Rhys fell asleep on the couch while Shing examined the venom. After a few moments of looking at it from various angles and – beyond gross – tasting a sample, Shing pronounced it good. I breathed a sigh of relief. I had been afraid that we hadn't harvested enough or Shing would find something wrong with it. I hadn't relished the thought of going back there anytime soon, but I would have done it a hundred times over if that was what it took to save my dad.

Shing said he would need a few hours to make up the appropriate medicine. He had ordered the needed supplies while we had been gone, so he had everything he needed at the Berserker house.

Before he left, Shing motioned to Rhys' sleeping form. "It is not like Rhys to be so exhausted," he said.

Which, now that I had been around Shing for so long, I realized was his way of asking what had happened to Rhys.

I hesitated a moment while I thought through the consequences of telling Shing about what had happened. Would he think Rhys was too dangerous and kill him on the spot? I didn't think he would, but I couldn't be entirely sure. I needed to feel him out a bit.

"I think he's sick," I said. I wanted to start slowly and not just dump it on Shing all at once.

"In what way?" asked Shing.

How did I answer that? Did I tell him about Rhys going feral, or just leave it vague? The question I had to answer for myself was how much did I trust Shing?

Which wasn't a difficult question. I completely trusted Shing. There was no way I could not tell him.

I explained to him the situation – about the dream, Rhys' red eyes, and how I had brought him back.

Shing's expression did not change the entire time I spoke. I could have been discussing the weather or best chocolate chip cookie recipes for all the reaction I got from him. I knew by now that it wasn't that he didn't care. He simply controlled how he expressed his emotions with an iron will.

"You have given me much to think about," Shing said. "I, too, have never heard of a Berserker going feral and then coming back from it. As you said, the old rules clearly do not apply anymore."

"But what do I do?" I asked. "I'm still new at this. I don't know what to do." At this point I couldn't help it and hot tears spilled out of my eyes.

The stoic expression on Shing's face melted and was replaced by a look of tender compassion. It changed his face so much I almost couldn't recognize it as him.

He pulled me in to a hug, and I sobbed on his shoulder, completely soaking his shirt. Shing was the last person still conscious that I could fully trust.

After a moment I pulled back and Shing handed me a tissue. I wiped my eyes and tried to stop my blubbering, but it was several minutes before I could gather myself back together.

"I have found that action is often helpful in times of sadness," he said.

I nodded and blew my nose, cringing at how gross it sounded. So ladylike.

"I believe it may be prudent to start with the things we know we have control over," Shing said.

I was pretty sure I knew where Shing was going with this. "The medicine for my dad?"

Shing gave single nod. "Yes. I will take Rhys back to the Berserker house with me and make the medicine there."

"Why take Rhys?" I asked. "What if he goes feral again?"

"I do not believe that will be the case," he said. "If we believe your dream dragon, it seems that being farther away from you will reduce the likelihood of that happening."