Heavy is the Crown: A Gothic Grove Novel, page 8
“She needs blood,” I hear a voice say. No, I hear Ciaran say. That's Ciaran’s voice now next to me.
A low growl has my body vibrating, the mark on my neck pulsing with need. Shadow.
“If we don’t do this, she’ll die.” Ciaran again.
Something warm is shoved into my mouth, and the metallic taste of blood surges into me. Renewed strength moves through my body. Magic swirls within me. My eyes crack open a little, and I can see Shadow’s eyes on mine, relief blazing through them.
“Hold on, rakkaani, just hold on.” He cradles me in his arms, and we are stepping through a portal.
NINE
Mating among shifters is not a rare occurrence like it is with witches. However, gaining two mates is rare.
– Rosewood Family Journal
Drago
The sound of someone banging on my front door pulls me from my already shaky sleep. The clock next to the bed blinks 2 a.m. I let out a long groan. I only just fell asleep after a long night at the club. Some assholes thought they could deal their own drugs on my turf followed by another getting handsy with one of the waitresses. Their bodies are now decomposing with the rest of the trash that was taken out. My knuckles are still cracked open from the fights, despite my fast healing. Normally, I allow my men to handle it, but my skin has been crawling lately, my dragon antsy to be released. So, I sated him with what he craves most: death.
The sound comes again, and I let my power move through me as I stand and head toward the front door. The black veins forming from my hands up my forearms twist and curl like snakes against my skin. I feel my eyes narrow as I near the door, a frown forming. This house, unlike my penthouse, isn’t known by people. It’s my own private oasis away from the city, on a bluff overlooking the bay. Only one person would know of this place, and no way in hell would he show up here.
“God damn it, Drago. Open the fuck up!”
The voice stuns me for a moment before it has me moving quicker. My bare feet are almost sliding out from under me on my marble floor. As I rip the metal door open, moonlight cascades over the late-night intruder. Ciaran Helvig stands tense, his blond hair down in wavy locks, uncharacteristically messy for him. His eyes are a stormy blue but seem to flash red as he takes in his surroundings. Blood is splattered across his face, that ancient sword gripped tightly in his right hand.
“Wha—” I’m cut off in my questioning as he steps aside and my stepbrother comes into view holding a wisp of a girl in his arms.
Shadow shoves past us into my home, his arm grazing my bare chest as he pushes by, his black boots leaving bloody prints across the white marble. My nostrils flare at his scent, and a trace of something else right under it . . .
Lilacs.
I take another deep breath and feel my dragon coming out of its slumber, now nuzzling against my death magic. Ciaran pushes in last. I glance outside before shutting the door firmly, sliding the lock into place, and checking the magical wards. All still intact.
“She needs help.” Shadow’s panicked tone has me frowning. From this angle, I can see she has a deep wound across her belly. Blood oozes from it rapidly. He pulls back from laying her on the couch, and I realize now that Shadow is also covered in blood, the dark night having obscured it originally, but with the light of my living room on him, I can see it splattered over his dark clothing.
I rush to him, ignoring the fact that I’m half-naked, and grip his arm tightly. “Are you okay, rakkaani?” He tenses at the name and rips his arm from my grasp as if I’ve burned him. My chest cracks a little at the loss of connection.
“I’m fine.” His voice is flat. “She’s not.” He draws my attention back down to the girl, whose face is unnaturally pale, her long blonde hair hanging limp around it. She’s beautiful, despite the filth covering her. A rumble sounds deep in my chest, the sound unmistakable in the quiet of the room. Ciaran lets out a cough, purposefully distracting me from the girl on my couch. My attention snaps to him.
“We need your help, Drago. She needs your help,” he says. “She needs a place that's safe to heal.” His voice is calm but firm, but his body betrays him as anything but calm. His muscles are taut over his body, ready to spring into action.
Ciaran, Shadow, and I worked out a system years ago. I have been helping them get witches out of his father’s prison. They have the option to either remain in Gothic Grove working for me, or I ferry them out with money and a new identity. Most choose to leave. The few that have stayed have remained under my protection in my club, the only place Alexi doesn’t dare go. Injured witches, however, tend to go to The Motel, where Ferra helps tend to them before getting them out of the city.
“What's so special about this one?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. I’m at war with my own body, part of me desperate to wrap the girl in my arms while the other wants to get as far away as possible. Shadow’s eyes flare as he finally takes in my lack of a shirt, and I smirk. His whiskey eyes trace my form, longing flashing over his face before he schools it again. But not before I catch him pull his bottom lip between his teeth. The movement sends shivers down my spine.
“She mine,” he growls, his eyes flashing golden briefly before he regains control. I involuntarily step back, yielding space between us.
“Yours?” I whisper. Both fascination and hurt burn into my chest like a brand. My dragon seems stunned into submission as it takes the small girl in.
He steps into my space, eyes blazing golden again, his control barely holding. “Mine,” he repeats. My heart beats once, twice, and then shatters completely as the words to sink into my very core.
I move to push him out of my space, to turn and demand they remove the girl from my home. But Ciaran steps between us. His eyes are stormy as they take in the situation, taking in the pain that I’m sure is as clear as day on my face. The pain I’m desperate to hide from Shadow.
“Ava is important. We had already planned to bring her here, but I’m sorry to dump her when she’s injured as she is.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, his level of exhaustion evident on his face. “She’s had my blood, so she’ll heal, but slowly. We can stay the night to help you look after her, but after that, we need to return to the prison. My father will wonder where we’ve been.”
Pulling a deep breath into my chest and schooling my face, I turn and watch the struggle move over my stepbrother’s face; I can see he cares for this girl. Cares for her on a level that makes my heart twist painfully in my chest. It’s all I can do not to rub at the pain. I had hoped one day he would look at me like that, but after everything, Shadow refuses to forgive me. Refuses to listen to my side of the story of when his father sold him. And honestly, I’m not sure I can blame him. Not when I blame myself for letting him get dragged off in the first place.
Pain turns to something dark and twisty. Jealousy. That green poison moves under my skin as I glare down at the girl who has the affections of the person who should be my mate. She shifts a little so her head falls to the side, exposing her neck. I suck in a hiss when I see the claiming mark stamped on the juncture of shoulder and neck, and snap my eyes to Shadow.
“You claimed her?” The words leave my mouth in a whoosh of unimaginable pain. He says nothing, only stares me down with those whiskey eyes. “How? How is that possible?” I take a step toward him, but he backs away. The distance between us might as well be a canyon.
“She’s mine. My dragon and I chose her.” His voice rumbles low, but it feels like he is screaming at me.
My mate chose another, and the devastation feels insurmountable.
After a moment of biting back my emotions, I finally speak. “She can stay here until she’s stable. After that, I want her out. I’m not in the business of taking in strays,” I say, ignoring how the statement tastes on my tongue. Ignoring how Shadow looks at me like I truly am the monster he's painted me as in his head. But my whole body is vibrating with excruciating pain, thinking my mate chose another.
To deny the mate bond is a death sentence in the end.
Ciaran claps his hand on my bare shoulder, squeezing. “Thank you.” He moves past me toward the guest room at the back of the house, leaving me and Shadow alone with the brutalized girl. An array of emotions swims through me as I hold the eyes of the man I love.
“Shadow . . .” I begin, but he shakes his head, before kneeling next to her. “Shadow, please listen to me.”
“No.” The word is commanding. Harsh.
My heart fractures even more, but I turn and head back to my bedroom. I refuse to allow him to see the tears about to fall. Because in the end, I really did fail him, and I don’t deserve his comfort.
The next morning, I find Shadow in the same place I left him, holding silent vigil over the sleeping girl. Her hair hangs limply around her thin face, but her breathing seems less labored. Fresh blood marks her pale lips, and the scent floods my nostrils.
“I gave her more blood; she’ll be okay,” Ciaran says as he licks the blood off his wrist.
Nodding, I burrow deeper into the black hoodie I pulled on above the flannel pajama pants I spent the night tossing and turning in. Sleep evaded me all night, knowing Shadow was only in another room, so close to me. It was a special kind of torture to know he was with some random girl instead of in bed next to me.
I don’t say anything as I grab two coffee mugs, fill them both, and hand one off to Ciaran. My hair falls into my eyes from beneath the hood as I take a long drink of the hot beverage.
Ciaran takes a sip out of his coffee mug as he looks out at the gray morning through the bay windows next to us. They look out over the port, where ships move to and fro. Seagulls can be heard through the glass panes. I love this home. Being able to see the port while having the forest behind me brings peace that I don’t get from being in the city. When I built this place, I built it for us. But now, it's a reminder of what I’ll never have. This mystery girl has poisoned it without even being aware.
Silence overtakes the room, heavy and foreboding as I watch Shadow fuss over the girl, pulling the blanket up and over her chest before moving her hair off her forehead. The gesture is so tender.
He takes one last look at her before he stands up from his spot and shoots a death glare at me. “If she dies, I will kill you. Consequences be damned.” And then he’s stepping through a portal, leaving Ciaran and me alone. Looking down at the girl, I let out a long sigh, fist clenched tightly inside the pocket of my hoodie as I try to rein in my emotions.
Ciaran doesn’t move to follow Shadow. He turns to me instead. “He loves you,” he says. “He just can’t get out of his own damn way.”
I shrug. “It’s my own fault, Ciaran. I let him down.”
He scoffs and shakes his head. “You didn’t let him down, his father did. You have always been fighting for him, even if he had no idea.” He pauses for a moment, his gaze traveling down to the woman. “Keep her safe. I don’t want her leaving here.”
His tone causes some red flags to raise in my head, and I frown. “Is she a prisoner?”
He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, just walks to the sink and places his coffee cup in it. “She’s not a prisoner, but she’s . . . different, and I don’t want her slipping away.”
The way he says it makes my dragon rumble to life, my magic swirling in my veins for a moment as if drawn to protect her. The feeling confuses me to my very core. Ciaran smirks. As if he sees everything. He waves at me before stepping through the portal.
The room returns to silence, the only sound the light breathing of the tiny female buried under the blankets. I’m not sure how long I stand looking at the spot where the portal was, the spot my mate left from, but it’s long enough that the girl suddenly regains consciousness, her arms flailing out around her before she looks over at me, her silver eyes locking onto my blue ones.
Fuck me. Silver eyes.
Ava
When I open my eyes, I’m met with the face of the second most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. Two crystal-blue eyes peek out from under a dark hood, blond hair hanging in front of them in whisps. My heart hammers in my chest as the memories of my attack come rushing back, my mind trying to piece together how I ended up here. And where exactly here is. I attempt to push up but wince as my stomach pulls.
“You shouldn’t move. Ciaran gave you as much blood as he could, but you are still healing.” The voice of the stranger shoots to my chest in a strange way before dropping to my core. His stare is intense and seems to shift from loathing to longing in quick succession.
“Who are you?” My voice is hoarse and scratchy. “Where am I?”
He scowls before stalking off, and I look around, confused at his reaction to simple questions. “What the fuck is going on?” I mutter as I attempt to push up again.
“Here.” A glass of water is thrust in front of my face, causing me to fall back into my pillow on the couch. “You’re at my house. Ciaran and my stepbrother brought you here last night after you were presumably attacked.”
He pauses, indicating for me to drink the water. I roll my eyes but take a sip of the cool liquid anyway, and I can’t help moaning at the taste and feel. The stranger’s eyes flash with hunger so rapidly that I second-guess having seen it. “My name is Drago.”
“I’m Ava.”
His eyes trace over me, making me self-conscious of how dirty I am. “Ava,” he repeats back to me, and my name rolling off his tongue sounds like a promise of things to come. “You probably want to shower. It’s through the hallway on the left.” It’s all he says before turning his back to me and heading to the kitchen. A dismissal, if I’ve ever seen one.
Letting out a long sigh, I manage to stand, but when I hit my feet and attempt to take a step, blinding pain shoots through me, causing me to cry out and collapse back against the couch, arms around my stomach.
Cool, strong hands covered in tattoos suddenly grip me. “Fuck,” Drago curses. “You are going to hurt yourself. You have to be fucking careful.”
His anger sparks my own. “You are an asshole. I didn’t ask to be left here. As soon as I’m healed, I’ll be out.”
“You aren’t going anymore,” he growls before lifting me into his arms, earning a squeak from me.
“What do you mean?” I yell, ready for an argument, but it’s cut short as he sets me on the countertop of his bathroom and rips off his shirt, exposing his beautiful body. My mouth waters as I take him in, my anger dissolving into a puddle of arousal. Words fail me when he pulls those flannel pajama pants off, exposing the outline of his thick length under black boxer briefs.
He turns his back to me, apparently oblivious of the effect he is having on my body, and turns on the giant walk-in shower. “Can you undress, or do you need help?” he asks, still facing away.
I clear my throat. “Uh, you want me to get undressed with you? A complete stranger?”
His soft chuckle sends a fresh wave of arousal through me, and I squirm, cursing my body for betraying me in this moment. “I can promise you, I have no interest in you that way.”
The words are a bucket of cold water on my body, causing my face to flush. Of course, he doesn’t. I’m covered in filth, and Shadow probably told him how we hooked up. I begin wrestling with my clothing, but each time I go to pull my thin tank top up, I cringe.
“Jesus, let me help.” In quick movements, his hands skate over my sides as he gently pulls the material over me. I bless the fabric when it covers my face because I know I am blushing deeply by the way it burns. When the top is finally over me, my eyes refocus on him as he gently lifts me up, then sets my bare feet on the warm marble floors. Slowly, with the grace of someone much smaller than he is, he kneels in front of me. His hands trace up my thighs in a movement that has the arousal back in full force. He pauses, nostrils flaring and eyes shooting up to me. His glowing, golden eyes.
“What are you?” I whisper. But even as I say it, I know in my gut what he is. I know what golden eyes mean—anyone from Hell does.
His lips kick up into a small smirk before he rips my pants down and stands up quickly. “Come on, let’s get you clean.”
When he leads me into the shower, my body begins to move automatically, and when the hot water hits me, the moan that comes from me is pornographic. Closing my eyes, I allow it to cascade down my body, and run it through my long hair with my hands.
“Oh, fuck, this feels good,” I say, pleasure drawing out the words. When I finally open my eyes, I see Drago is pushed against the counter, his hands gripping the countertop so tightly that I worry he’ll crack it. His gaze, still golden, is burning me alive. His cock is no longer soft but rigid and straining against those cotton briefs. For a moment, I think he is going to do something crazy like fuck me against this wall, but the heat dissolves to sadness, followed by anger, and instead of pushing to join me, he storms from the room.
TEN
We learned that Hell killed off the most powerful dragon lines. Death dragons were thought to be extinct. Until we discovered one still alive.
– Carmine Family Grimoire
Ava
The book in my hands falls into my lap just as my head bobs down, waking me, and I jerk back up. “Fuck.”
I swipe my eyes in a desperate attempt to push the tiredness away. I have no reason to be tired; I don’t do anything. I’ve done nothing for the past few weeks as I’ve healed since my rescue. I sit here, day after day, frozen and unsure what my next move is. Sure, I’m still healing a bit, but the biggest thing is trying to figure out what my life will look like now. Before Alexi snatched me, I’d had a small apartment and a part-time job as a bartender and dancer at a local shifter club. I had been dating one of the waitresses. Well, we had been fucking. Dating is a loose term. My life hadn’t been grand, I suppose, but it had been mine. It had been a time of self-discovery, and I had loved it. But it doesn’t feel like I can go back to that life now.
