He’s still in his prime and a handsome man in his own right. I should feel fortunate.
I don’t.
Sean raises a hand. Moments later, the gate opens. Raiden guides me through until we stand before my mate-to-be.
“Thank goodness you’re safe,” he murmurs, taking my hands in his. “After I heard of your family, I worried for you and the youngling. I looked everywhere. I didn’t know where to find you.”
“I’m fine.” Physically. On the inside? I’m dying. How can I mate with this man? Or any other besides Raiden?
Sean directs a firm stare his way. “You’re giving her to me, correct? You understand that once you leave this estate, she will be mine and you will no longer be welcome to see her?”
Raiden doesn’t look at me, doesn’t hesitate. “I understand. It’s as her parents wished. You will keep her and the youngling protected.”
“With my life.” Sean curls an arm around my shoulders and eases me close. I go, but some part of me stays behind with Raiden, refusing to move.
Nothing about the wizard who will soon be my mate repulses me. But I don’t love Sean Blackbourne. And I never will. There’s no heat between us. No spark. No pull. Just…nothing. And after Raiden, nothing feels like death.
“That’s the only thing that matters.”
“Well, then.” Sean’s mouth curls up in a painfully polite smile. “We’ve nothing more to say.”
“Actually, I have one request.” Raiden swallows like this is killing him, too. “When the youngling comes, if I’m still…”
Alive. That’s the word he seeks.
He clears his throat. “If I’m still…fighting, will you send word of his birth? I’d simply like to know that he’s delivered safely. And that Tabitha is well.”
Blackbourne hesitates. “All right. But never ask me for anything else.”
Chapter
Ten
Raiden
* * *
I pace the barren turf around the perimeter of Blackbourne’s estate like a damn stalker, sinking into the newly rain-soaked soil as I eye the towering gates and the imposing house beyond. I should leave. Tabby—Tabitha—is no longer mine. But I remain. Wind whips my hair, tugs at the bare branches of the trees above, and echoes hollowly around me.
Two damn days have passed since I dropped her off with Blackbourne and the wizard took her into his home. Has he Called to her already? Claimed her?
I clench my fists. Likely so, and it’s best for Tabitha. But damn if it doesn’t hurt like I’m ripping my heart out of my chest with my bare hands. Gritting my teeth at the futility of my pain only intensifies it.
Suddenly, the hair on my arms stands up—no breeze, no sound, just the sinking certainty that something foul has stepped into the world behind me. A whooshing sound behind me breaks the silence. Then another. Followed by several more. Heart pounding, I tuck myself deeper into the shadows, crouching behind a massive tree. I peer around the gnarled trunk.
Mathias materializes from the shadows at the perimeter of Blackbourne’s gate first, his presence bending the air around him. A dozen Anarki scramble after him, their eyes glowing with that sick, deadly gleam. This isn’t a social call. Everything about their manner screams violence.
Fuck! Why are they here? Between the Blackbourne family connection to Mathias and the fact he already knows the Untouchable’s identity, Tabitha should be safe now. This show of force makes no sense.
Except Mathias’s expression says he has revenge on his mind.
I don’t dare teleport away. This close, Mathias will hear. And I can’t leave Tabitha alone. But I also can’t fight a half-dozen Anarki by myself.
Sending up a prayer that my unconventional idea works, I whip out my mobile phone and snap a picture of Mathias and his goons, then send it to Bram. I add a text: Get ur arses to Sean Blackbourne’s & b quiet.
Unless and until reinforcements arrive, I have to slow the Anarkis’ entry into the house. Because if Mathias reaches Tabitha, the fighting will likely be brutal, swift, and one-sided.
As the wind turns particularly brisk, I aim my wand at the nearest tree and lop off a heavy, dangling branch. I send it hurtling into two of the formerly human soldiers. Their undead corpses topple—one head separating cleanly and rolling across the lawn like something out of a nightmare. The other grunts, losing his arm and bleeding that unnatural black sludge.
