What I’d promised I would do in the event of his betrayal.
My fingers flew to the back of his neck, just above his spine and using all my strength, I punched my claws through his flesh. He let loose a guttural roar. That’s when everything went black, my monster instincts completely taking over and pushing me to the back of my mind.
My heart ached at the sound of my mate in complete agony. Which just made my blood boil more. The bastard didn’t deserve my pity. And he wouldn’t deserve the horrible morning period I was going to go through.
And I sure as hell didn’t deserve the trauma I was going to have to endure by wearing his body home. I’d never performed this kind of spell and swore I never would.
A sickening sensation settled in my belly, so visceral that I curled up inside my consciousness and shut out the screams of the man I’d loved. I had to lock away my weaker, human side. If I didn’t, I’d never get myself home.
I allowed my other side complete and utter control.
My eyelids snapped open, and I came to with the sounds of screaming filling my head. It was no longer Vincent’s monstrous baritone splitting my skull apart but a woman’s. I felt flesh splitting around me, like a warm wet bathing suit that was too small, splitting at the seams. I was laying spread eagle in the bed. It had been white before.
Now it was soaked with blood. Scraps of flesh covered me.
Unholy nausea climbed up my throat, and I had to swallow it back down.
Everyone’s eyes were still on me, frozen in their seats, all of them wearing the same look of horror.
My heart pounded in my ears as I raised my shaking hands in front of me. No more claws. I’d exhausted so much of my energy that I’d shifted back. Why? The spell hadn’t even worked. My hands started to shake.
Wait. My hands. They were covered in blood—redblood, not black. Clumps of hair were stuck in the viscous liquid—white hair. I picked up one of the scraps of skin and turned it over, seeing a portion of a bird tattoo. Not ravens. Doves.
My mind was a whirlwind as I thought back to when I’d met the female fae with the dove familiar. Vin had said something about his ex being the most skilled shapeshifter in the entire village.
Val had taken Vin’s shape and had tried to humiliate me in front of everyone.
Vincent hadn’t betrayed me at all.
I couldn’t hold the tears back. The crowd blurred. I slowly sat up, pulling my bloody knees to my chin. I was going into shock.
Just then, the door to one of the treehouses was blown off its hinges. Vincent dragged himself outside with his mother clinging to his back, trying to pull him back inside. My mate said something in fae tongue and, with a jerk of his arm, threw her off him. Mid-air, she shifted to her owl form and flew away.
So the queen had been in on this cruel plan with Val.
“Ruby!” Vincent shouted my name, reaching for me. Reaching. I held my arms out to him, feeling so weak and sapped of energy that the next thing I knew, I was falling, and the night sky filled my vision. Instead of my back hitting the bed of blood and bone, Vincent caught me in his embrace. His wings stretched around me, shielding me from the crowd.
Raindrops hailed down over my face. Wait, no. It wasn’t rain. They were tears. Vincent Feral was crying. “I’m sorry. I tried to get to you sooner. My mother, she held me up. She was against this from the beginning.”
He drew me tighter into the cradle of his arms, enveloping me in the comfort of his body heat. “Come on. Let’s take you home.”
I blinked at him with tear-swollen eyes. “But I haven’t fulfilled my part of the bargain.”
“I release you from it. I’ve been selfish. I don’t need these people to watch me claim you for the gods to recognize you as my mate and wife. I’ve kept you here too long anyway.”
Unbridled joy bounded through my veins. “We’re going home.”
He arched down, pressing a kiss to my bloodied brow. “Yeah. I'm taking you home, Princess.”
Chapter thirty-two
From Ashes
Thequeen’ssmallerfamiliarform streaked through the night, flying over our heads in a rustle of wings. I’d never seen an owl in person. The Animal Planet channel hadn’t made them out to be this terrifying. Then again, the owls on TV didn’t shift into evil, naked mothers-in-law.
In a blur of gray and brown feathers, the fae queen morphed into her full fae state and landed in a crouch before us. As she slowly stood to her full height, the moon bounded off her hair as the wind whipped it around her shoulders.
I don’t know how I’d missed it before. Probably because she’d played her cards right and only shown her true colors when I was at my most vulnerable. But there was no hiding it now. With her violent nature, cruelty, and beauty possessing an edge enough to weaponize, she reminded me of her son more than ever.
