Undying Hope (25 page)

“Speak to her with an open mind. Her reasons were just and not against the laws of your kind. Her actions were of love. Do not dishonor her, or my allegiance to you is finished.”

Donovan moved his hand in time to avoid Nikon’s vicious snap of sharp fangs. Then the wolf trotted after her.

Medea nuzzled his hand. “
You are wounded, but so is your heart. Go and speak with her while I go and speak with mine.”

Donovan rubbed Medea’s ear as he stood there for a long moment, and then with a heavy sigh, he changed into something more comfortable and went to go find Haven. She was sitting at the kitchen table. The book was open. Her brow furrowed in an adorable way as she studied the contents. His voice was a soft whisper. “What are you reading?”

She didn’t look at him. “A book Wolf wrote about the Undying. Dinner is started. I’ll let you know when it’s done.”

“Where are my brothers?”

“They left. Riordan will be by tomorrow to take me to see Bastian.”

He kept his voice soft. “I can take you.”

She shook her head and finally looked at him with a soul-deep sadness in her eyes. “I know you have things to take care of, and he said he didn’t mind.”

He sat down across from her. He sought to find some kind of numbness from the twisting in his gut, but he wasn’t going to leave her alone. Not in the kitchen with so many knives within easy reach. He stretched across the table and ran a finger over the top of the book pages. It was the closest he could bring himself to touching her. “So, he actually did write a book. Learn anything interesting?”

Her pale eyes met his. “He has over a hundred pages on you.”

“Does he? That’s…interesting.”

She smiled faintly, but it didn’t touch her eyes. “Actually it is, and a lot of it is heartbreaking. You saved the life of two young Undying Dragons, even after their father killed yours.”

“Aye,” he said softly.

Haven’s smile went a little wider. “But you love them, anyway. You saved their lives. They would be the same kind of monster as Kyros if it wasn’t for you.”

The tension in his body eased. “Kale can be a problem child at times.”

“That may be, but you took in the children of your enemy, even after he killed your parents. Not many men would do that.” Her eyes were filled with so much love and compassion that he had to look away. She let out a soft breath.

“It wasn’t their fault their father went mad. I couldn’t take it out on them. Kane was just a baby.”

“Quinn, why are you defending this like you did something wrong?”

The tips of their fingers touched, and he jerked back.

“What is it?”

He grimaced. “You tried to kill yourself! Why? I would have left you alone if you’d have asked.”

Her mouth dropped open, and then she took several deep breaths before she reached over and lightly ran a finger over his. “I wasn’t trying to kill myself. I never expected to die.”

He clamped his hand down over hers. “What are you talking about?”

Fear registered on her face. “You said if I was Undying and you weren’t, you’d find a way to make me change you because you’d have to protect me forever. I thought… Damn it! Quinn, I thought if I was dying, you wouldn’t have a choice, and then you wouldn’t give up your power, your life. You’d taken away my ability to convince you over time.”

His eyes flared a deep and golden umber, and he caught a hold of her wrist, clamping down with so much force she was afraid he was going to snap the bone. She tugged, but his grip only went tighter, pulling her up and onto the table. “You manipulated me. Goddamn it, woman!”

Instead of closing herself off from him, Haven projected a raw fear that ripped through her because of him. Her voice was a whisper. “You’re hurting me.”

He let go, and she sank back into her chair. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Carefully, she closed the book and then stood up. “Is there a way to change me back? You can choose to grow old. Can I do the same?”

His growl was a savage snarl, his teeth bared. “I am not letting you take this back, woman! Not after the hell you put us both through because of it.”

She didn’t back down from him. Her chin lifted, and her eyes met his with a fire of their own. “I survived it. Maybe not because of my own strength, but because you wouldn’t let me die. That has to mean something. I am your lifebond. You don’t have to like what I did, but please don’t shut me out because you are angry with me.”

He was prowling the kitchen now as rage boiled inside of him. Donovan knew her arguments made sense, and it’s exactly what he would have done if the situation was reversed. He caused this. He killed her. She’d been dead in his arms, and the only thing that had brought her back was his unwillingness to let her go. Every wall, every carefully constructed cage for the power within he’d created vanished, and he struggled to control it. He couldn’t hurt her, couldn’t be what destroyed her. If he did, there would be no coming back for him. “In all my life no one has ever once defied me the way you do. No one has ever been able to make me do anything against my will. My will is what rules us and binds us to our laws. You carelessly threw it away on a whim for immortality.”

Her face drained of all color, and she cast her gaze to the floor. “I think I need to be alone for a little while.” She went to the oven and turned it off. “I’ll finish your dinner later.” Then she walked out of the room.

Donovan dropped onto the chair. Goddamn it. She wasn’t Helena, and he wasn’t Kyros. Instead of owning the fact his inaction had caused her to harm herself, he accused her of the same thing Helena had done because Kyros thought she was his mate. Helena had wanted immortality, and she’d wanted Kyros to convert her.

Haven’s footfalls paced the length of the bedroom before she went into the bathroom. Fear clawed through him, and he was in motion in the next instant. He didn’t even stop to see if it was locked. He put a shoulder into it and broke the freshly mended door off its hinges. He’d have preferred the sight that greeted him to have been the same as the one he walked into days before, but instead, he found her curled into the corner, her arms wrapped around her knees, which were pulled in tight to her chest. Medea sat close to her, trying to offer comfort Haven wouldn’t accept. Haven’s head was bowed and her shoulders rounded. Her tiny body was wracked by savage sobs.

With two quick strides, he was in front of her. He crouched down and started to reach for a strand of her hair and then let his arm fall to his side as he realized he didn’t have a right. His voice was subdued, more like his own. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

She grew still. Her voice shook. “Go away, Quinn. I want to be alone for a while, please.”

“Damn it! I’m a bloody bastard. I caused you to kill yourself. And it’s making me crazy.”

Haven’s eyes were swollen and red from crying. “I’m not dead.”

“No, but you were. There were a couple of minutes that I was alone in the tub. It was just me breathing for both of us.”

“I died?” The realization showed in her eyes. “My God.”

His voice cracked. “Yes.”

She scrambled into him, knocking him backward. His arms banded tightly around her as she cried, “I’m sorry, Quinn, so sorry.”

The
treòir
within faded back into the corner of his mind. Anger still bubbled in its core, but it was content to let her scent, the softness of her skin, the way her hair brushed fire across his flesh sooth the man for now.

The beat of her heart sounded loudly in his ears and brought the sting of tears to his eyes. She was alive, and he wasn’t trapped in some fantasy his mind had concocted to keep himself from totally losing his sanity.

“What have I done?” she whispered.

Donovan held her close to his chest as the madness faded back, and he was finally able to think clearly again. Being able to feel her helped tremendously. He wasn’t safe to be around her, at least not alone. He knew all the dangers. The
treòir
had been unlocked in the moment of Haven’s death, and he didn’t know if he could control the power again, not even with her sweet scent enveloping his senses, the feel of her skin touching his. The
treòir
was quiet for now, but raged at what Donovan had done to his lifebond. At how careless he’d been to her feelings and her own need to save his life. If Donovan didn’t regain control, the
treòir
would claim her for itself, and Haven would be trapped in a nightmare far worse than anything Mason could have done to her. He carefully lifted her with him as he stood and carried her into the bedroom. He set her down on the bed and took several steps back from her. “It’s not your fault. I should have listened to you and trusted myself. The only one to blame is me.”

Haven squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m the one who didn’t—”

“Don’t. You’re in danger here. You are my lifebond, and even as I fight the
treòir,
it wants possession of you. To control you in a way I can’t even begin to explain.”

She opened her eyes, so much love and trust showing in them that it tore at his heart, ripped at his insides. The
treòir
wanted to rear up and devour what hurt her, but Donovan shoved it back once more. She slipped off the bed. “I did this to you. Let me help you. Let me find a way to make this right.”

Donovan couldn’t stop her hand sliding under the hem of his shirt, her touch branding his skin. He let out a dark rumble, knowing this was the least safe activity for them to be doing. He stepped back and groaned.

Haven’s eyes went round. He was afraid of her. No, he was afraid
for
her.

She canted her head to the side. “Very well, then, I want you to take me out. I want to be with you, but if we can’t do that here, then take me to one of your clubs. You have four, and I’ve only been to Coliseum.”

That was safe. Being near helpless humans would make it easier for him to control the
treòir
—as long as Kyros didn’t show up. “All right, do you want to go to Tribal, Pharaoh, or Fantasia?”

* * * *

Swallowing hard, Haven made up her mind to do this. The other horrible things that had happened the last few times they ventured out of the apartment couldn’t happen this time. Quinn had an army of men walking the city streets. There was a way to help him, and she needed to focus on what would get Quinn captivated.

She mentally went through the new clothes she had, and nothing seemed to work for what she was planning to do. Once again, they had that wonderful connection where it was difficult to tell who was who, but she was learning to use Rowan’s necklace to help her keep an air of mystery with Quinn. She glanced at the clock. It was still early enough they could get to a boutique and then make it to Fantasia before it was too late to really enjoy themselves. She’d heard that while Tribal did have belly dancers, Fantasia did, too, but they let the audience participate in the show. She turned a sweet, innocent smile up to him. “I need a new dress.”

“Fine, let’s go.” Then he bellowed, “Nikon, you are coming with.” He started toward the door and looked over his shoulder at Haven. “Where are we going?”

“Fantasia.”

He froze and turned to look at her. “You wanted to go to Tribal the other night.” His voice was tight, almost pleading.

She grinned at him and pushed him out the door. “Of course I did, but this is today, and I want to go to Fantasia today. It will be fun, and we need to hurry if I am going to spend enough of your money to get myself a knockout outfit and make all the men’s heads turn.”

“I am a danger to others.” His voice was strained.

She nodded as she tugged him down the stairs. “Yes, Quinn, I know.” He thought he was dangerous, but she knew better. Neither Quinn, nor his power, would do anything that would prevent them from having their lifebond. “I was thinking something in green. I look dynamite in the right color green, and maybe something backless, with those thin little spaghetti straps with a flowing skirt on it or something with slits in the side.” She batted her eyes at him. “What do you think?”

* * * *

His head was going to explode, right into a bloody mess on the floor, but he’d be damned, the fucking
treòir
was amused with what she was planning. He growled when she stopped and turned to look at him. “You’re not going to wear that, are you? Go change and I will clean up the kitchen real quick.”

He was so stunned that the
treòir
inside of him had stopped rumbling that he couldn’t do anything other than what Haven had asked. When he got back downstairs, she was already dressed to combat the cold and was waiting for him by the door with Nikon at her side. Her smile was beautiful, excited, and made his heart do a flip.

She made an erotic sound with her throat. “I expect more than just the men’s head will be turning tonight, my Quinn.” Then she slipped her hand into his and allowed him to guide her down to the Hummer.

When they got to the boutique she wanted, Haven appeared shocked when Donovan insisted that Nikon go in with them. “You’re not going to let me into the dressing room with you, so he’s coming with us.”

“He’s a wolf. You can’t explain him away as a seeing-eye-dog.” Her hand went protectively on top of Nikon’s head. “That would be insulting to try to do so.”

The heaviness on his shoulders lifted a smidgen. “No, but he does have his companion dog papers, and I have the right harness in the back.”

“You’re serious?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “What breed did you say he was?”

“Husky-Newfoundland mix.” He opened the glove compartment, flipped through a stack of papers, and then handed her the right ones.

Her name was on them as the person who needed the companion animal. Her brow furrowed. “Why is my name on these?”

“I had the papers made a few days ago. I don’t need a wolf to follow me around to make sure some dark and evil thing isn’t going to carry me off into the night. I already had the papers because that makes it easier to take him places when I need to, but they like to have a name on them.”

She gave him an accusing look. “So you put mine on there.”