Authors: Emma Weylin
“Go. Even if he won’t let you,” Memphis said. “I can man the frying pan if needed. Nikon won’t kick me out for cooking.”
Haven flashed a worried smile before running up to the room after Quinn. She figured she had as much right to be in there as he did since her stuff was there, but she did knock before she entered. A large, arching laceration covered his beautiful chest as he pulled on a clean black T-shirt, but the wound appeared like one that had been mending for a few days.
“I don’t need anything right now.”
“But maybe I do. What happened? I don’t understand.” She quietly padded over to the bed and sat down on the corner. She could guess he had to put down one of his own, but she hoped talking about it would help him.
“There is a new Cadfael in Denmark. I had to put down the last one,” he said wearily. He sat down on the bed next to her and rested the side of his head on the top of hers. “That part never gets easier. I guess, at least, it doesn’t happen very often.”
Right, of course he didn’t want to talk about this. Haven decided to ask questions about something else to distract him instead. “Cadeyrn, Cadfael, Caden—what do all those terms mean?”
He let out a short laugh as his arm looped around her. “A Caden is like a clan lord, for lack of a better explanation. We have the world divided up into provinces and territories, and the Cadfaels…” He made a face, as if he didn’t know what he should be saying next. “We don’t exactly rule over them. It’s like guarding them and presiding over the Undying who live within their province.”
“And your title,” Haven whispered, not sure she wanted to know.
He winced. “I preside over the Cadfaels.”
“Oh,” she said, trying not to let that sink in too deeply. “You’re their king.”
“Something like that, but not exactly.”
She lightly ran her hand down the side of his chest she knew wasn’t marked. “Then what, exactly?”
“I help them. I guide them. They are my people. When everything else fails them, I cannot.”
The weight settling down on them was tangible. “And you think you failed this Denmark Cadfael? Could he not come to you before he went down the wrong path?”
“Haven, don’t—”
“But I will,” she snapped as she stood and moved in front of him. “Yeah, I am sure it royally sucks right now, and I’m not going to tell you not to grieve, but you can’t let someone else’s failing also be yours. Would you have been able to help him if he’d have come to you?”
* * * *
Donovan blinked at her a few times. No one came into his personal space when he wanted to be left alone. They sure as hell wouldn’t yell at him not to feel however he wanted to feel after having to put down a meirlock. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does.” She stamped her foot and put her fists on her well-curved hips. “You’d help Bastian anyway if I wasn’t attached to him. Right?”
“That’s different,” he said, unsure if he should be amused or pissed off.
“No. The Denmark Cadfael chose not to ask you for help while you could still help him. That is not your fault.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but he realized she was right. “I’m trying. This is never easy.”
“Nor should it be,” she said as her voice went soft. She sat down on his lap and hooked her arms around his neck. “But you should only take on the parts that you had control over.”
He looped an arm around her. This was foreign to him. He wasn’t used to anyone taking the time to help him muddle through the feeling part of life’s darker necessities. “I’ll work on it.”
She narrowed her eyes on him before she leaned up and kissed his chin. “Good. Are you ready to come back down so I can make breakfast, or did you need more time?”
Donovan opened his mouth as a yowl of pain filled the penthouse.
Haven jumped to her feet and ran out the door. “Bastian!”
When they got downstairs, Bastian was balled up on the dining room floor with his hands wrapped around his head. The wolves were lying on either side of him while Memphis stood off to the side, gritting his teeth together. “Donovan!”
“I’ve got this.” He crouched down next to Bastian and placed a hand on the boy’s head. His
treòir
stretched out and easily suppressed the less powerful one.
“It’s all right, young one,”
the
treòir
said to Bastian. “
The Storm will not hurt you or the lifebond. He is here at my behest to aid your power should danger befall us.”
Bastian’s
treòir
settled, and Donovan took the opportunity to take a cursory look inside Bastian’s head, only to have his worst fears confirmed. He pulled his mind back from Bastian’s as he sat on his heels. “Stay down for a few more minutes,” Donovan murmured. “That’s right. Just breathe in and out slowly.”
Memphis let out a breath. “Holy hell. What happened to him?”
“Mason Earthshaker,” Donovan said. “I am going to need to take him to Riordan and also have Haven checked out.” He scooped Bastian up as he contacted his brother. “
Bastian has scarring from where he ripped out several compulsions on his own. I need for you to look at him now.”
“Bring him,”
Riordan replied.
“Memphis, I need a portal to Riordan’s house.”
“Quinn?” Haven’s voice shuddered.
“It’s all right,” he said. “Bastian is fine. I just want some things checked out. Memphis will take you through if you’re afraid.” He ground his teeth together to suppress a growl. While he knew Bastian needed him more in this moment, he wanted to be there for Haven as she experienced all the newness of his world.
“Put me down,” Bastian said weekly. “I can walk.”
“I’ll take him through the portal,” Memphis said. “You should focus on your lifebond.”
“I don’t need anyone to take me through,” Haven said, but she nervously picked at her pinky.
He carefully set Bastian down and waited to make sure he was stable before turning to his mate. “I’d rather you’re with me if you’re worried.”
“But Bastian…”
His brow shot up. “You have people capable and willing to help both of you.”
She waited for Bastian to nod. He leaned against Memphis while rubbing the back of his head. “I will be all right. They don’t feel the same way Mason did.”
She drew in a deep breath. “All right. Let’s go. If Riordan can fix his headaches that would be wonderful.”
He wrapped his arm around her more for his comfort than for hers. He didn’t want to think about the sentence that had to be carried out for the Denmark Cadfael. There were only limited ways for an Undying to be killed. He preferred the one that involved a sword to the one he had to do by hand. With practiced techniques, he shoved aside the horrors of the day and focused on helping Haven through her first portal jump.
“The wolves!” she said when they got into the small room made entirely of tile.
“They are fine alone, and they will guard our home while I am not there,” he said.
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely,” he said. “Are you ready?”
“No, but Bastian needs a doctor who can actually help him.” Her hand curled in a death grip around his. “Let’s do this.”
Donovan nodded to Memphis.
Haven’s mouth dropped open as she watched a tiny tornado form on Memphis’s hand. The vortex grew and stretched until Memphis stood it on end. Sparks of violet and silver lightning streaked across the opening large enough to fit a man.
“It’s safe,” Donovan said. “Memphis, take the boy.”
Haven lurched forward when man and boy vanished into the portal. “Quinn!”
“They are safe on the other side. Do you want to walk through or would you prefer a lift?”
She canted her head as she glared up at him. “I’m not sure.”
He looped an arm around her bottom and lifted her up, clamping her tight to his body with one arm so they were face to face. “Close your eyes and you’ll never know it’s happening.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and ducked her face against his cotton-clad chest. “Just go.”
Donovan stepped through to the other side. “We’re here.”
Her eyes popped open as she turned to peek at her new surroundings. “We didn’t leave.”
“Look at the door.”
She did. “Oh. That’s not the same.”
“No. Everyone has their own symbol. That makes it easier for the Storm warriors to get to where they are going.” He set her on her feet. The portal rooms also allowed for lifebonds and children to travel between dwellings without needing a Storm Warrior in the case of danger, but Donovan didn’t tell Haven. She was already dealing with a lot. He’d save the lesson for later.
“Right. So, we’ll have Riordan look at Bastian, and then we need to talk about things we’re going to need.”
“You’re getting a check-up as well,” Donovan said.
“Wait…what? I’m fine,” she snapped at him.
“Humor me, woman,” Donovan said as Memphis opened the door and led them into Riordan’s healing den. The room was washed in calming blues and had Nadia’s touch for soft fabrics and comfortable furniture. A set of stairs went up to the main house, and a hall on the other side headed to private examination rooms.
“Where are we?” Haven asked.
“Riordan’s healing den. Most of his visitors are more likely to need him in his healer capacity than anything else.”
Her hand wrapped tightly around his. “I still don’t need a doctor.”
“What is causing the worst of Bastian’s headaches isn’t his
treòir
.”
“What? How do you know that?” She moved in front of him and planted her fists on her hips.
He leaned down and kissed her nose. “I was in his head with him to control the
treòir
. There is scarring there from a compulsion Mason had given him at one point. I want you checked for the same thing.”
Her eyes went huge. “Oh.”
“Exactly,” he said, turning around to lead her back into a more private exam area. “Don’t fight me, woman.”
She snorted at him. “If you say so, man.”
Even after the day’s traumas, Donovan couldn’t help the slight smile curving his mouth. Haven was already making an interesting addition to his long life.
Donovan dragged Haven out of the exam room when Bastian screamed. She fought hard to get out of his hold. He’d give her that credit. If he’d been human, even with his size, she’d have escaped him and probably done some gnarly damage to his brother.
“Let me go!” she yelled. “He’s hurting him!”
He wrapped his arms tightly around her torso and arms and fell back on a couch in the waiting area so he could lock her legs in place with his own. He kept his head back and out of the way to keep her from smacking him in the chin with the back of her head. “Shh,” he murmured. “Bastian is going to be just fine.” He started a slow rocking in a rhythmic sway and let his power wash around both of them in an attempt to help calm her. “Extracting a faulty compulsion is painful. I am going to have to do that to you.”
She stopped fighting him. “What?”
“Mason. He planted thoughts into both of your heads. Bastian managed to root most of it out of his own head, but he wasn’t able to get yours without hurting you,” Donovan said as calmly as he could, given the situation. It was difficult to hold her down while the
treòir
was actively working against him. The damn thing thought she should be allowed to rip Riordan a new one.
She let out two heavy breaths. “This will make him better?”
“Most of his headaches will be gone. It won’t erase all of them because the
treòir
will try to use them to control him for its own bidding.”
“Get that thing out of his head,” she snapped, but she no longer struggled. “I don’t want anything trying to control him.”
“Are you calm?”
She jerked, trying to get away from him, but couldn’t break free. “Yes!”
“Really?”
She snorted. “As calm as I can be while Riordan is in there torturing him.”
Donovan decided against letting her go. “He’s not torturing him. He is helping him. Mason’s compulsion could set Bastian on the road to becoming a meirlock. The
treòir
is only struggling for dominance. Bastian must win the battle if he is ever to reach maturity.”
Her entire body vibrated with rage when Bastian let out one last wrenching scream before there was silence. “Let me go, you son of a bitch!”
“No,” he said calmly. “I understand you’re angry and confused. To leave the compulsion in there partially intact could get him killed. Like a brain tumor,” he said, finally finding the right human jargon to use so she’d understand.
She went limp in his arms. “The doctor thought the same thing.”
“Some compulsions are close.” He still didn’t let her go, though he did rest his chin on her shoulder. “They’re more of a metaphysical tumor than a physical one, and the damage is more outreaching if they are done with ill intent.”
“Brain surgery would hurt, right? That’s what this is. Brain surgery? Why can’t Riordan knock him out?” she said with the fierceness of a mama bear.
Donovan tentatively let go of one of her wrists so he could lightly stroke a hand down her silky soft hair. “The procedure must be done while the person is awake.”
Bastian came out smiling a moment later, with Riordan close behind. Donovan let Haven go. She sprang up and darted to Bastian, checking over every inch of him.
Bastian flushed with embarrassment. “I feel good. I no longer have a dull ache.”
Haven pulled back and looked into Bastian’s eyes for several moments before she pulled his face down so she could kiss his forehead and hug him—hard. “I don’t care how old you are. I thought he was killing you.” She wrapped her arm protectively around Bastian, which was either ridiculous or adorable. Donovan couldn’t decide which. Her head lifted high as she gave a tight smile to Riordan. “Thank you. Is there anything else I need to know about his health?”
“Yeah,” Riordan said. “How have you managed to afford his protein needs? He could stand to gain a few pounds, but he’s in surprisingly excellent health considering you have no knowledge of proper Undying nutrition.”
“He’s too thin?” She pulled away from Bastian. “I’m so sorry. I—”
Bastian hugged her tight. “We did the best we could. I wasn’t starving. I promise.”