Undying Hope (27 page)

“Haven Killian, from the first moment I saw you, I knew my life would never be the same without you. Every part of me is in love with every part of you. I know we come from two different worlds, but I need you with me, forever and always. Haven, will you marry me?”

Haven’s face lit up as tears collected in her eyes, her head bobbing before she could say any words, a hand covering her mouth. She closed her eyes and smiled as she wrapped herself around him. “I love you, Quinn. I will marry you. I want to be with you forever and always.”

The crowd cheered and then started to chant. “Ring, ring, ring.”

Donovan laughed as he slid a hand into his pocket, pulled out a tiny purple box, and opened it. Haven’s face flashed amazement, and she beamed at him as she gently took the ring out and slid it on to her finger. He breathed against her ear. “Woman, you are mine.”

She laughed quietly before her mouth yielded to him. The crowd went wild.

“All right, all right, I think we should give the happy couple some space and start the next contest, though I can’t promise as good a prize as what Miss Haven received.” He winked at her. Donovan ushered her off stage and away from the DJ booth toward his office.

* * * *

“I need something to drink first,” Haven said and pulled him to the bar instead. “A water is fine,” she told the bartender. She moved in close to Quinn and was glad when Nikon pressed into her leg. While she tried to pretend she was handling the traumatic events, she had no wish to repeat them. The bartender gave her the water and served Quinn the glass of bourbon he ordered. Quinn gave him a large tip, and Haven settled onto his lap. She couldn’t stop looking at everything disguised as a magical fairy glade. “Do I even want to know where you’ve seen this place before?”

He shifted her in his lap, and then placed his hand over his heart. “Here, I’ve seen it here, but I didn’t realize until tonight that this place is real. It lives in you. You are magic, woman.”

She laid her head on his chest in a way that she could keep looking at everything. The club was beautiful, from the walls to the fairy lights that glittered to the secret grottos with tables and happy people all around them. Quinn had created a fairytale. Here and there were paintings that added to the illusion of this magical place, but the paintings were of warriors, standing as silent sentinels over the patrons, making it safe for all who entered. She’d seen all those faces in the men who guarded them during this eventful bonding.

The one above the bar was a life-sized painting of Quinn. He was in his full battle regalia, the same on display in the penthouse. His brow and chest gleamed with sweat, and he had the very same look as when Mason had scared her in the mall—a man determined to keep the gates of hell closed and those around him from the dangers only he could hold back. She studied the painting. The likeness was uncanny. She shifted in his lap. But there was something that wasn’t quite right. His eyes. They did have their golden umber flame, but there were tiny flecks of red in them. She furrowed her brow as she sipped at the water. “Who’s the artist?”

“Emily Hopkins. I’ll introduce you. She and I get along fairly well, if she’d ever learn to lock a door.”

Haven laughed. “Maybe she does it to drive you crazy? I would, if I didn’t think you’d throttle me for attempting.”

He nibbled at her throat. “I don’t want to talk about paintings. I want to talk about being buried deep inside of you.”

She leaned back into him but couldn’t take her eyes off his in the painting. “Does she know what you are?”

He rested his chin on the top of her head. “No, she’s human.”

“Did you stand for the painting? In your battle regalia?”

“No, Emily sees things as they really are. I think she is one of fairy sight. I’ve thought about telling her, but it could be dicey with how humans view another who sees magic, and she already believes she is a little crazy.”

“As they really are,” Haven echoed. She leaned forward to get a closer look at the eyes of the painting. Yes, Quinn’s
treòir
, the red flecks of the power within, were there. It was a part of him, like the sword in his hand, his thick hair twisted into a braid and hanging over his shoulder. It was as much a part of him as Nikon at his side or her being his lifebond. “Quinn, we need to go home. I need to look something up in the book Wolf gave me.”

“Now?” He sounded disgruntled. She could feel why when she settled her bottom in his lap, and his hard-on pressed against the back of her thigh.

“Yes, now. I’ll make it up to you once I look it up. I promise.”

He let out a long-suffering sigh. “All right, woman, you want to go home, we go home, but we share a bed tonight.”

She turned, grinned at him, and then leaned up and kissed his chin. “I need to be a good lifebond. There are just things I don’t know yet, and you and all your stubborn glory would try to protect me from them.”

His brow furrowed. “What is it?”

“It’s just a thought, but I have to check something first before I tell you.”

“All right,” he said with that mournful note of a man who knew he was going to be denied.

Haven flipped the book open the second she was able. She turned to the page where Wolf explained in great detail how the
treòir
of the Undying male worked. She skimmed over the information, taking in every word. The power was a part of them since birth but didn’t activate until they hit puberty. They always struggled to keep it from taking control of the body and mind. If that happened, they would turn into the same kind of monster Kyros was, locked in a hell where there was never enough blood to quench their thirst. Then it would slowly consume them until they started hunting the innocent to get what they craved. But the book didn’t give a reason for why someone with fairy sight would see a mix of color in Quinn’s eyes. She closed the book in frustration. Nothing told her why or how the sides of Quinn would combined.

There were a couple things that made the long, lonely fight bearable. One was to find a lifebond, and the other was death. She closed her eyes to see the painting over the bar again, and then she looked at Quinn who was hovering over her. Her mouth dropped open. “How long have you been with your
treòir
this close to the surface?”

He huffed. “As long as I can remember.”

“And you let it out to make the kill, don’t you?”

His face twitched and went dark. “Always.”

He closed his eyes as he pulled Haven into his memory. The battle was still fresh in his mind, unable to be dulled by the passage of time. Back to a time in his youth. To when his father was still Cadeyrn.

A storm raged far above in a turbulent sky, sending down a torrent that could not quench the hell fires licking the stone walls. A fire that burned so hot it reduced the stone to ash. Only the fire of the dragon clan could burn that hot. Screams drowned out the battle sounds raging below. For untold centuries, the clan of the dragon and that of the wolf had worked together to insure the safety of their people. Directing them, commanding them, helping them, and leading them. It had all been wiped out in one night of madness. The dragon Caden of the Cadeyrn had turned, but it should have been an impossibility. His lifebond should have prevented it, should have kept the change from happening. But no one could have foretold of the woman’s untimely death.

There was a river of blood, human and Undying. So much death, the air was rank with it. The children. It was the only thought in his mind. Someone had to save the children from this blood bath. Swiftly, Quinn moved through the great halls of his ancestral home, calling his brother to him, the one who bore the name of their clan.

His mother stood guard over the door that led to the safe room for the women and children, the warriors all around her fallen. Her life was fading as she used her essence to keep the children locked inside a room in the belly of the citadel, protecting them from the fires as they raged. He reached out to aid her, adding his strength to hers, but it was to no avail. He was too late. By the time he reached the door, she, too, was lost to the senseless slaughter.

“Father.”
His mind reached out.

“I know, my son
.
”
Despair was thick in his tone.
“Do not let her death be in vain. Protect them.”

He fought the fires with his own magic, but he was not strong enough. The power of the dragon was too great. The beast of legend flapped its wings, sending waves of gale force winds whipping through the citadel. Quinn was unable to stand up against it. In the distance was the call of the wolf. The pack was coming to help them.
“No.”
He warned Nikon and the other Ashina wolves of the pack. “
Call them back. We are doomed. Do not let your pack be killed.”

“We are coming.”
Nikon, the strongest of the pack, responded.

Quinn’s strength was failing as he fought the unholy blaze. The whispers in his mind grew louder. The one he’d been taught to keep locked inside at all costs. It called to him, enticed him with long life and a power that would be unmatched. The children—they would die if he couldn’t stop this. Fire kissed the soles of his boots. Frantic screams ripped through him. For all the power and might of the Wolf Clan, it was no match for that of a Dragon with a slain mate. Quinn wished his father were with him, knew that his father would be able to stop the fires, but he wasn’t there. With his lifebond, Quinn’s mother, gone, there was no hope for them. Soon Joseph would join the dragon in its destruction. Still, the voice of the
treòir
within called to him. Promised to stop the fires, to conquer the dragon with a fire so hot he could melt stone. The door made of granite protecting the women and children started to melt. Pulsing liquid rock puddled on the floor. Quinn called out for his brother again, but there was no answer. He was trapped, his body broken. Quinn was alone.

May the gods forgive him! He reached out to the whisper, giving in to the tempting words, and allowed his own
treòir
to fill him. At once he was able to reach out to a mountain pass, and with the aid of an Earth Warrior, bring down a flash flood. Then, with the aid of a Storm Warrior, Quinn was able to make the air around the women and children so cold that the fire choked and died. They were now locked in a room surrounded by ice, and Quinn’s eyes burned with the dark power within.

He ran up the stairs to the main hall where his father confronted the power of the dragon. His father’s gaze turned to him.
“Protect them, my son.”
He slipped the sacred ring from his finger and threw it into the rubble. Mighty Joseph, the Cadeyrn of all the Undying people, threw down his weapons and spread his arms open wide.
“You took her from me. You took her from our sons and from our people. I will not become you. Take me!”
The dragon landed over top of him and consumed him.

The
treòir
inside of Quinn raged hot and violent. Quinn ran directly at the dragon, picked up his father’s sword, and skidded across the stone, plunging the blade deep into the belly. The dragon screamed its pain and rage. The form flickered and then faded into a black nothingness. Quinn lifted his head, his gaze narrowing on his prey. He might be an ancient, but Quinn knew with his new power, he’d be able to defeat him.

“Quinn!”
Came the voice of his youngest brother, Riordan, not yet six years in life. “
Quinn, the water is coming in. I can’t hold it back.”

The
treòir
raged to kill the enemy, but Riordan’s voice called to him again. “
Quinn, the other children are afraid. Are we going to die?”

It was a battle Quinn expected to lose, but he held on tight to the image of his young brother, and with everything that was inside of him, he pushed the darkness back into the tiny corner of his mind so that it was only whispering to him again.
“No, little brother, you will not die.
”

He broke eye contact with the monster dragon and ran back to help the children survive. The ice was melting all around them, and the room was filling up. Again, he knew he could not save them with his power alone, and once again, he let the
treòir
consume him, knowing that once his people were safe, he’d be able to put it back into its cage.

Quinn’s body trembled. His grip was brutal and bruising, but Haven wasn’t going to let this happen to him, not to her Quinn. She didn’t mask the fear that tingled along her spine, but she wasn’t going to give into it either. “I won’t leave you.”

The laugh that rumbled from him was dark and not entirely his own. He lifted her up and brought her down hard on the kitchen countertop. He forced her legs apart and stepped between them. One hand slid under the skirt of her dress and the other was possessive on her breast. “You do not need to fear me.”

“I do not fear my lifebond. You will not hurt me.”

His teeth scraped against her throat, nipping, pinching her tender flesh. She drew in a sharp breath, and he smiled. “I am your bond, not the man.”

She leaned up and flicked her tongue over his pulse point. “You are part of Quinn and are part of what makes him my lifebond. You’ve a duty to protect me above all things.”

“He is pathetic and weak and would have allowed you to die. We bond now.” To prove it, he ripped the front of her dress apart and bent his head down, his teeth scraping across a nipple.

She curled her fingers into his hair, holding his head to her breast. She whispered, “You cannot take what I freely give you.”

The grip he had on her arm grew tighter and tighter until Haven had no choice but to cry out for fear he would snap a bone. His eyes were a mix of gold and red flame when his hold loosened. Haven slipped her mind into Quinn’s.

The landscape was black and foreboding. She could feel the two distinct presences, one of unfailing compassion and duty, the other of power and control. They swirled around her, fighting for dominance, and it frightened her, but she pushed forward, seeking something she could hold on to, something solid in his mind, the image he held of himself. Two figures formed. One of the man Haven knew, who was tall, brooding, and beautiful with eyes of a golden fire. The other was of an ancient warrior, poised and ready for battle, the darkness glowing red in his eyes. She stood between them and could feel the menace as if it was a third, altogether different, entity.