Mischief's Mate (The Immortal Mates Book 1) (15 page)

The pain that radiated from his soul was too great a weight for him to bear. Chantelle was meant to be the light to his darkness. The one that would chase the loneliness away. Yet his female wouldn’t even listen to the reasons behind why she was kept in the dark.

“What is wrong with him, mother?”

Through his pain Loki barely registered what Bragi was asking. All he could think about was what Chantelle had felt like in his arms. Now he would never feel her against him again. That was something he couldn’t allow to happen. He would have to get her address from his mother. Loki vowed to the Sisters that he would win her heart.

“Do you not feel it too?” Loki continued to clutch at his chest. The further she moved away from him the greater the pain became.

Hoder moved forward trying to ease Loki’s pain, “Yes brother, I feel a pulling in the area of my heart as well.”

Hoder and Bragi began to pull him to his feet. He staggered as if shot. It took all their strength to lead him to a chair and help him sit.

“It seems that Chantelle is angry and will not accept your brother’s claim.”

Yeah, that was an understatement. Loki knew that if they were going to fix this then Chantelle needed to calm down. Though he wasn’t sure if he could give her the time that she needed. Slowly as if learning to walk, Loki rose and headed for the door. But his brother’s blocked the way.

“Get out of my way.” The menace in his voice told his brother’s exactly what he would do if they didn’t.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Frigga put a calming hand on his arm.

“I am going to bring Chantelle back here, mother.” Loki shrugged out of her hand and tried to move past his brothers but they stood firm.

“I think you should leave well enough alone.” Frigga’s voice cracked with her unshed tears.

Loki rounded on her, “Just like you did? If you had not taken it upon yourself to find me a suitable mate then we would not be in this mess.”

His words were out before he could stop them. Loki knew that his mother was only trying to do what was best for him. Yet here he was trying to put the blame for this evening on her shoulders alone.

There was no way this was even partially Frigga’s fault. If he had stayed calm at the club and explained everything to Chantelle then she would not have left. Loki knew that she had only wanted the truth. And the one woman he was supposed to give the truth to no matter what, he had failed.

Frigga whispered, “Please, Loki give her time.”

He nodded his head even though he doubted he had any time left to give. Loki could feel the darkness spreading across his soul. He may not have fought in as many battles as Thor, but the volatile nature of their males was still there, within him. Within all of them.

Without his Fatum Anima it was just a matter of time before he lost the battle for his soul. Loki knew that once the darkness took over there would be no going back for him. May the Sisters help those who were in his path, because he would no longer be able to see reason.

He nodded, “I doubt she would speak to me this night anyway. I shall give Chantelle a fortnight, if she has not returned to me by then, I shall seek her out. I shall explain everything. I vow that I shall be the man she needs.” He eyed his family, “And none of you shall interfere.”

Loki didn’t wait for their answer; he just pushed past his brothers and went to his room. He needed to regroup. To figure out what he would say to Chantelle when she came to her senses and returned to him. Loki knew one thing for sure; he was going to make it clear that she respect him from now on.

Savannah had left Chantelle and Emma off in front of their home, promising to call in the morning. Chantelle was grateful that her friend understood that she needed time alone. Time to process the hurt she felt over being betrayed, by the two people she trusted most.

Slowly she trudged up the walk; Emma pushed her way past Chantelle in her haste to get inside. She didn’t even wait for Chantelle to enter the darkened house first. Something was definitely wrong with her; she never went into the house alone. Being afraid of the dark was the only fear her sister had. Chantelle knew that for her to not care, she must have been pissed.

Coming into the now bright living room Chantelle found her sister crying in the chair by the window. Just the sight of Emma’s tears had her feeling horrible about what had happened earlier. She hadn’t meant to yell at her, but she was hurt.

In all the years that they had leaned on each other for support there had never been secrets between them. Then the first time Emma decides to keep one, it’s like Area 51 big. You know, the type of secret you should want to tell others but don’t because you were sworn to secrecy.

Chantelle felt herself softening at the sight of her sister’s tears. She began to rub small circles on Emma’s back. It wasn’t any good for her to get all worked up.

“Shh, listen I’m not mad at you. This wasn’t….”

Emma was up and out of arms reach as fast as her frail body would allow. Anger raged just under the surface of her tears. Chantelle could almost taste how angry she was.

“You’re not mad? Well I really don’t give a flying elephant or a bag of chips.” Emma stood there with her hands on her hips, her chest heaving with each breath she took.

Chantelle just stood there staring at her across the room. Emma had never spoken to her like this. Even when she had been diagnosed with her tumor, she had never lashed out in such a way. Emma had always just gone with the flow as she did with everything else.

“Don’t take that tone with me. I have every right to be angry.”

She just shook her head, “Oh, do you? And why the hell do you think your feelings are worth more than any of the rest of ours?”

Hearing Emma accuse her of being selfish made her heart ache. Chantelle had given her whole life for her sister. Never once in the sixteen years that Emma had walked the earth, had Chantelle regretted taking care of her. Yet, here she stood before her accusing Chantelle of being uncaring. It just boggled her mind. Where in any of this had Chantelle been the one to do something wrong?

“I hope you aren’t accusing me of not caring about others.” Chantelle’s voice was calm, even as she felt herself dying inside. “Because I hate to toot my own horn, but I am the furthest thing from selfish you will ever know.”

Emma closed her eyes and when she opened them again to look at Chantelle, there was nothing there but anger, “You were more than selfish back there, ‘Telle. Do you know what your stubbornness has cost him?”

Oh, so that was it. Loki had sweet talked her into believing whatever delusion he was suffering from. Great, just great. Emma was too young to understand the workings of relationships. Definitely not the workings of a mated immortal couple; it was too complex even for Chantelle. Right now Chantelle was regretting that she had never talked to her about the birds and the bees.

“So he filled your head with lies. I never knew you were so weak. A few nice words and you think he's a prince.”

Chantelle knew her words were untrue. Emma was anything but weak. She was too trusting at times, but Chantelle knew she shouldn’t fault her for that. It appeared that she had been the same way with Frigga.

“Listen to yourself. He is a prince, damn it.” Emma didn’t even flinch when Chantelle eyed her for cussing. “But that’s beside the point, isn’t it? You are the only woman who can make him whole. You are his other half. His Fatum Anima. Without you there is no hope for him.”

Chantelle sat down on the chair her sister had vacated. This was all too much for her to take in right now. She could not afford to have some guy waltz into her life and take over. Mating be damned.

“Where the hell did you hear that?”

She knew that Emma was too young to have learned about fated souls. The Academy wouldn’t be teaching her that for another two years. But there she was talking about it as if she knew exactly what she was talking about.

Emma heaved a long suffering sigh. “The way Loki explained it is that you are the one woman he has searched for his entire life. He’s immortal so I gather it has been a pretty long search.”

She was going to kill him when she got her hands on him. How dare he tell Emma about all this? Chantelle had hoped that Emma would never be forced to love someone because it was destined. She hoped that her sister would meet a nice normal guy and settle down. Maybe have a few kids and finally be whole and happy. But not now; not after this.

No, Loki had ruined that with his stupid stories about fated souls. She knew Emma would cling to something like that. That she would want something that was spiritually deep. And this, this Fatum Anima, was right up her sister’s alley. Dammit.

“Let’s just say he is a millenniums old immortal, Emma. And that we are meant to be. What am I supposed to do then? Just let him run roughshod all over my life. He has serious control issues.”

“You may think I’m weak, because I listened to what he had to say, instead of blowing up like a hothead. But I think you’re a coward for not listening at all. For making excuses.”

Emma didn’t even give Chantelle time to respond. With one last look at her she stormed out of the living room. Making it clear that not only had Chantelle hurt Loki and Frigga tonight, but she had hurt her as well.

A single tear escaped her eyes as she watched her sister leave the room. They never fought, not even over the TV. Chantelle couldn’t understand why this was so important to Emma. What did it matter whether she like Loki or not? Who Chantelle dated had no bearing on her sister’s life.

Slowly, Emma’s words came back to her. It was not so much the words her sister had spoken in anger, but the ones she had said about Loki. She claimed that he was her Fatum Anima and by the Academy’s standards that was some deep shit. A connection that ran through all lifetimes. It meant they were two halves of the same whole. Chantelle found herself almost believing that. It was only when she dreamed of Loki that she ever felt like she belonged.

Tonight when they had danced in the club, she had been willing to forget about every other man. It had only been Loki and her in that sea of people. Chantelle had felt as if she had found her place the moment she had stepped into his arms.

The chiming of the grandfather clock in the hallway told her that she had been down here with her thoughts for over two hours. Chantelle rose from the chair and made her way up to Emma’s room; hoping that she was still awake so she could apologize to her.

When she pushed open her door she saw her fast asleep; her favorite teddy bear, Lancelot, in her frail arms. It looked like she had cried herself to sleep and Chantelle felt worse than ever for the way she had acted. Moving into the room she pulled the lavender duvet over her sleeping form. Kissing her on the head, she left Emma to sleep.

Pulling the door closed, Chantelle made her way to her own room. Hoping that the comfort of her bed would chase away the memories of the evening, even though she knew it wouldn’t.

There was no way she would ever forget the look on Emma’s face when they had argued. With a shake of her head, as if to dislodge the memory, Chantelle got undressed. The moment her head hit the pillow sleep pulled her under, that’s where her dreams found her.

Chantelle found herself in the middle of an exotic garden, wildflowers of every color in bloom. Their heady fragrance filled the air around her, causing her eyes to grow heavy. The thought that this would be the perfect place to spend a romantic afternoon with someone you loved, came unbidden to her mind.

“I knew you would come.” His voice was like velvet sliding over her skin; it caused a shiver to run the length of her spine.

She spun around to see his green eyes boring into her brown ones. Even after his betrayal was made so painfully clear, Chantelle found herself drawn to him. As if she needed him to make her whole. Her dream-self remembered Emma’s words.

She shook her head, her dark curls spilling from the neat bun atop her head. “Not of my own free will. I don’t belong here and you know it.” Her right hand waved to indicate the space between them.

Loki advanced on her, a great sleek jungle cat, stalking and ready to pounce at a moment’s notice. Chantelle found herself taking a step back for every one he took forward. Her head kept telling her that she needed to keep a safe distance from him. For no matter how much her soul cried out to his, he was dangerous. Everything about him screamed danger; from his regal posture to the way he could make her heart melt with one whispered word. Chantelle just hoped that she woke up before she gave into his pleading eyes.

“For centuries I have searched for you. I have been there for you your entire life. Do not refuse me.” His voice was like fine silk being run over her skin.

Chantelle continued to back up; too afraid to turn her back on him and make a run for it. He was doing things to her body with his eyes and voice that she was helpless to withstand. After all these years of running from him in her dreams, she feared that tonight she would fall prey to him. Give into every demand he made of her.

Her back made contact with the stone garden wall and she knew the game was up. Chantelle now found herself trapped between the wall and the man her soul sang for. There was nowhere left to run and she didn’t know if she would be able to, if given the chance.

“You’re mad.” Her voice shook and she knew she was losing much needed ground.

“Accept your fate and love me, pet.” Loki caged her between his body and the wall with his strong muscled arms.

Chantelle felt herself shaking from his audacity. She should accept him after the betrayal he had planned? Here he was speaking to her as if she belonged to him; when they both knew she didn’t, not now not ever. Loki acted as if he loved her. But how could he possibly love her when he wished to spirit her away from Emma. Chantelle didn’t want to make the choice he was asking her to. If he loved her, truly loved her, then he wouldn’t make her choose.

She feared more than anything that she was nothing more than a passing obsession to the century’s old male. How the hell could she trust him when he was known for his forked tongue? He would say anything to get what he wanted.

No matter what text she had ever picked up on Norse mythology, he was always painted in darkness. That’s what had first drawn her to him, made him her favorite Norse god to read about. Chantelle had refused to see the bad in someone who was more childlike than malicious.

Yet now, standing before him in a dream world that she was sure was a replica of his gardens at home, Chantelle’s resolve wavered. He had been bringing her to this dream to plan her whole life. But for what purpose? To make her his willing concubine; she wouldn’t stand for that. Because whether she wanted to admit it or not, something about him brought out her primal side. Chantelle would not share him with anyone.

Loki took her hair out of its bun. As he ran his hands through it; his cool fingers left a trail of fire in their wake. Her treacherous body ignited with just one touch. What would she do if he kissed her? Chantelle’s eyes darted to his lips and then back to his evergreen eyes. A wicked smile played over his lips, one that said he knew he had her.

Anger fueled her enough to regain her senses and she ducked out from under his arms. She made sure the bench was between them before she spoke. “Not in this lifetime.”

Chantelle saw the hurt flit across his angular features and her heart stuttered in her chest. Now that the words had left her lips she wished she could take them back. Something in her soul told her no other words could have hurt him more.

She could never know just how close her words came to the truth. This was Loki’s last chance with her. The Council of Immortals would not allow him anymore time. It was now or never and he was getting close to the end of his time to claim her as his own.

Chantelle found herself stepping around the bench, reaching out a hand to him. “Please, I didn’t mean that.”

“Now who is lying?”