Destiny Unchained Read online

  The things I do for love.

  Chapter 20

  Nyx was in a shitload of trouble. Midnight in Las Vegas and the city spun like a never ending amusement park ride. The Dragon’s Lair was as taunting as it sounded. Shaped like a dragon’s head, covered in iridescent blue and purple tiles, the entryway was as flashy and gaudy as the rest of the city. The vault wasn’t hard to find and the guards were easy to incapacitate. But the trouble came after she’d switched the combination lock.

  Bars slammed down from the ceiling, trapping her in the vault room. She inhaled a breath. Silver-coated bars. Seemed Nyx was prepared for anything. Two human guards came down the stairs and stood grinning on the other side of the gate.

  “She’s the sexiest thief I’ve ever seen,” a blonde guard said to the other.

  The second looked over her leather ensemble and licked his lips. “Call Kristoff. He’ll know how to deal with Xena Warrior Princess.”

  She stepped toward the gate with a sultry smile. “Walk back up the stairs and I’ll spare your lives.”

  One snorted, the other laughed out loud.

  “Last chance,” she warned.

  The blonde guard turned away and dialed, she guessed, Kristoff, on a cell phone. She shrugged and wrapped her hands around the bars.

  A tall figure appeared out of thin air, halting her escape. The figure snapped the blonde guard’s neck then crushed his cell phone as he fell to the ground. The second pulled out a taser, but the figure moved in a blur and at his next breath, the guard joined the other, unconscious on the floor.

  The figure squared his shoulders and faced her. Tall with dark skin and ragged black hair down to his chin, he stared down at her with deep chocolate brown eyes. She inhaled his scent – exotic and warm all at once – and a sense of comfort swept over her. His broad shoulders and muscular build rivaled Cristian’s.

  He took a step forward and bared his teeth. “Hello, wife.”

  She smirked. “Marcelo. It’s been a long time.”

  “Over eight hundred years.” His voice was calm but his glare cut into her like a knife.

  “Heard you were looking for me.” She motioned to the bars caging her. “Are you going to let me out?”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her from under furrowed brows. “I think not. You have some questions to answer.”

  Her gaze dropped to the guards on the floor. “How did you do that…teleporting?”

  He shrugged those powerful shoulders. Shoulders she remembered gripping in the throes of love. Biceps bulged under his tight-fitting t-shirt. She used to love being embraced in his muscular arms.

  “When I was turned, I acquired an extra gift.” His eyes narrowed. “When I turned for you. Why did you run?”

  He deserved answers, and she would give them, but first...she closed her eyes and focused her energy on the metal bars. Slowly, the two in front of her bent away from each other, creating an opening she slipped through with ease.

  Marcelo arched a brow. “Seems I’m not the only one with gifts.”

  She looked at the bars then back to his face. “I have an aversion to cages.”

  “I see.” He stepped back and sighed. “I just want an explanation, Nat –”

  “Marcelo,” a soft, feminine voice called down from the stairs. “Can I come down?”

  Immediately, his expression softened. His body twitched on high alert, ready to protect whoever this woman was. But his frown turned to a smile and he gazed tenderly at the young woman descending the stairs. “Yes, mi amor, it’s safe.”

  Mi amor? My love? Natalia inhaled the woman’s sweet scent then switched to their native ancient version of Spanish. “A fae?”

  He answered in the same language. “Careful, Nata, she’s my mate.”

  She studied the tiny girl. Honey-colored hair hung loose around her shoulders. Her face was angelic and pure. The fae girl and Natalia were opposite in every way. If Natalia was the dark night, the woman was a bright, sunny day.

  Natalia shifted her gaze to Marcelo. He pulled the fae into his body in a protective stance, an arm wrapped around her slender shoulders.

  “You look happy,” she said in Spanish again. “When did you find your mate?”

  “Not long ago.” He kissed the top of her head. “She was the only thing to tear me from my hunt for you.”

  A flood of guilt filled her heart and she swallowed hard. She didn’t mean for him to suffer. How could she explain that? She changed topics for now. “And this mad king they speak of? Doesn’t sound like someone you’d align with.”

  He stiffened. “I’ve made mistakes.” His eyes darkened and she couldn’t stop a shudder. Like her, he’d changed in the last eight centuries. Her warm, loving husband looked every part the vampire he was. “But I made amends. The Dark King is dead. A Queen rules the Underworld now. I helped put her in place.” He glanced at his mate. “Her sister.”

  “A fae? Queen of the Underworld?” The world had gone mad.

  “Not her sister by blood. They shared a foster home. Queen Eirian is the Dark King’s daughter.”

  Natalia blanched then shook her head. Not just mad, turned upside down and shaken like an etch-a-sketch.

  “She’s half sorceress, half witch and –”

  An irritated grunt cut him off. “You know I don’t like when you do that,” the young woman said to Marcelo, scowling. “I know you’re talking about Sage but I can’t understand what you’re saying!”

  He smiled down at her. “Lo siento, querida – ah! Sorry, love.” He turned to Natalia. “This is my mate, Aila. Aila, this is my wife…er…wife when I was human, Natalia.”

  Aila smiled slightly, but didn’t look surprised. Marcelo must’ve explained things already. Natalia watched them gaze at each other sweetly. He used to gaze at her that way. A lump formed in her throat. “So…uh…what are you doing in Las Vegas?”

  Marcelo answered. “Settling up a favor for a dragon. You?”

  She sighed. “Favor. Dragon. But really I came to apologize for…” She gulped and stared down at the floor. Gods, this was harder than she thought.

  Marcelo spoke, spared her dignity. “For running away eight hundred years ago then leading me on a wild goose chase for centuries?”

  She smiled faintly. “Yes. That. I was…scared. And ashamed.” She exhaled a breath and sucked up her pride. “I planned to end myself but didn’t know how. If it makes you feel any better, I’ve been miserable too.”

  After a long, drawn out sigh, he said, “It doesn’t make me feel better. I harbor no resentment toward you, Natalia. When you were turned…it surprised me. I just needed a little bit of time to process it. I came back for you. I would have accepted you.”

  She closed her eyes. “I know. There are so many things I regret.” Her voice wavered. “That was one of the biggest. I’m trying to make atonement. It’s difficult. I’ve hurt so many people –”

  “Natalia.” His deep voice pulled her away from her pain. “I forgive you.”

  She nodded. He was always a gracious man. “Thank you.”

  He smiled in return. “Besides, if you hadn’t have left me, I wouldn’t have found my true mate.” He hugged Aila tighter and she beamed.

  A thought occurred to her. She had one more task before she was ready to find Cristian. One that would go much faster with Marcelo’s help.

  “Marcelo.” She took a deep breath. Humility, it’s time to make your acquaintance. “I hurt another man. Someone I care deeply about. Can you help me repair things?” At his wary expression, she added, “It won’t harm you and will take less than five minutes of your time.”

  He looked at Aila, who nodded slightly. “What do you need?”

  “That teleporting gift of yours, can you transport another person?”

  “Yes, but I can only teleport to places I’ve been.”

  She arched a brow. “Ever been to Albany?”

  ***

  Natalia stood outside the stone cottage, watching M
oira tuck her children into bed through the window. The last time she’d been here, more than a decade ago, it was to re-sign the blood contract between her and the witches. Rose, Moira’s grandmother, passed down the power that held Natalia’s gift, to Moira. The witch had only been twenty years old.

  Natalia stepped forward as soon as Moira headed toward the study. The front door opened, stopping her in her tracks. A young woman slammed it shut then stormed across the yard. Natalia stepped back into the trees. The girl’s curly orange hair flared under the moonlight.

  Moira’s husband opened the door and called out, “Samantha! Where do you think you’re going?”

  Samantha spun around to face him. “You won’t help me so I’m going after Nikki by myself!” She made a sound of disgust and looked him over. “I thought you were different, Uncle Jasper. But you’re just like my dad!”

  Jasper sighed. “Come back inside, Sam. I didn’t say I wouldn’t help you but there are certain steps we are legally required to take. You can’t just storm into the Underworld and demand your sister be released.”

  Her fists clenched. “That’s exactly what I intend to do.”

  He made a move toward her. Lightening quick, she withdrew an impressive sword from a sheath on her back. With a challenging smile she said, “Just try to stop me.”

  Jasper froze. His eyes darted around the yard, looking uncertain of what to do with her. Samantha grabbed a pouch from her coat pocket, sprinkled something in her hand then threw it up in the air. Jasper lunged for her, but she disappeared.

  “Son of a –” Jasper kicked a rock across the yard. Rubbing his hand over his face, he paced the yard a few times. With another muttered curse, he walked back into the house.

  That was strange. Natalia blinked several times then shook her head and walked to the front door. She knocked.

  Moira opened the door. “Natalia?” Her brows furrowed. “What are you –”

  Ignoring her, Natalia pushed her way in and walked straight to the study.

  Moira was on her heels. “What are you doing here? You can’t just storm into my house without calling –”

  “I quit,” she threw over her shoulder.

  Moira froze, speechless in the hallway. Natalia opened the door to the study.

  “What do you mean, you quit?” Moira’s footsteps hurried down the hall. “You can’t just quit.”

  Natalia scanned the study, filled with filing cabinets, bookcases, and boxes of junk. “I can quit. In fact, I just did. Now I want the contract.”

  Moira stepped in front of her, her eyes wide and on the verge of panic. “Now wait just a minute! If you quit, I’ll have to take away your gift.”

  Natalia inhaled a big whiff of the dusty air. The subtle scent of her blood came from the filing cabinet on the far right. She sidestepped Moira. The cabinet lock broke easily. Natalia yanked the drawer open and pulled out the faded parchment, splattered with a few drops of her blood. A smile touched her lips. Moira stood by the door, her mouth hanging open, her eyes glazed over with shock.

  Decades of obligation disappeared and Natalia’s shoulders sagged in relief. “Moira, you can take your gift and shove it.”

  She walked out the door and didn’t look back.

  Chapter 21

  Even the smell of Chinese food wasn’t enough to overpower Cristian’s heady scent. Natalia stood under the street light across from the shoddy Chinese restaurant. Her belly fluttered with nervous anticipation. Nerves? She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been nervous. But determination won over fear and she forced her feet to remain in place and her hands to fist at her sides.

  Cristian stepped out onto the sidewalk and his nostrils flared. Their gazes locked. Gods, she even missed him.

  If he was surprised to see her, he didn’t show it. He turned to the male werewolf next to him and whispered something. The werewolf went on without him and Cristian set his gaze on her. They stared at each other from a distance. Natalia’s belly exploded in a wave of flutters under his scrutinizing glare. The normally passionate and emotional Cristian was blank faced. Unreadable. Finally, he jerked his head toward the line of trees across the street. She followed him.

  They walked silently until the main road was out of sight then he spun around to face her, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

  Well, hello to you too. “Um…” She cleared her throat. “I came to give you something.” The ring suddenly felt like lead in her hand. She tossed it to Cristian and he swiped it from the air. His brow furrowed as he studied it.

  “It’s the ring Eli gave to me.” At his questioning glare, she admitted, “I…was going to make him eat it before I killed him.”

  He didn’t look impressed. “Mm. Interesting. Why –”

  “I wanted you to know that I followed your advice. Forgiveness. No more plans for revenge.”

  His hand closed around the ring and when he opened it, the ring was warped. Then he threw it deep into the woods. “Good for you. Is that all?”

  She pulled an envelope from her back pocket and held it out to him. He had to move closer to take it from her hand. Her eyes closed when his scent wrapped around her. How she longed to be in his arms again. “It’s the contract I made with the witches.” It was really more symbolic since she could’ve left anytime and they could’ve taken away her gift anytime. But he didn’t know that. “I want you to rip it up.”

  He gave her a long look then tore the contract into four pieces and handed them back. She let them flutter to the ground. She waited for a response but he gave none. With a sigh, she unsheathed a small silver knife at her waist, and keeping her gaze on him, she pressed the point on the skin of her forearm.

  Hissing in a breath, she left it there as it burned through layers of skin, smoke tendrils rising into the air. She bit back a scream. Finally, Cristian’s hard mask fell away. He reached out and grabbed the knife from her hand.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” he scolded, tucking the knife back in its sheath. She couldn’t help leaning into his body just a bit. His eyes softened when he looked at her again. With a deep sigh he said, “Natalia, I’m glad you’re taking control of your life, but I meant what I said. It’s too late.”

  “I have one more thing.”

  He pursed his lips, but nodded.

  She pulled the last thing from her pocket. If this didn’t work, there was nothing more she could do. She’d have to say goodbye. Her stomach dropped as she placed the item in his hand.

  He looked down. “A prism?”

  Her hands trembled, her lip quivered, but she steeled herself and said, “You told me that love requires courage. Like a prism, we have to allow another to view our flaws. So,” – she swallowed the lump in her throat – “here I am. I hold nothing back. I want to be yours, mind, body, and soul.”

  He stared at the prism for what felt like forever. Gods, I was so stupid to think this would work. Heat spread across her cheeks and she fought the urge to flee.

  No, she didn’t go through all of this to let him go that easily. If she had to beg for a second chance, she would.

  Finally, he exhaled a sigh. With a grim expression, he commanded, “Take off your shirt.”

  What? She remained in place, waiting for an explanation. He gave none. When she opened her mouth to question him, he arched a brow. Then it hit her. This was a test. He wanted her to prove herself – her devotion – by submitting to him. Just the thought of it chaffed. She lifted her chin and looked him in the eye. His expression remained unmovable. He was dead set on his course. Damn her feminine pride. If he thought this would scare her away, he was about to be schooled.

  Maintaining eye contact, she stripped off her shirt.

  His gaze swept over her yet he showed no approval of her obedience. “And the pants.”

  With a deep breath, she took off her boots then shimmied out of her leather pants. Goose bumps covered her skin. It couldn’t have been more than forty-f
ive degrees and she stood barefoot, clothed only in black panties and a bra, awaiting the next command. By the gods, this better not be a joke.

  “Turn around,” he ordered. “Put your hands on the tree.”

  She closed her eyes and did as he told her. The seconds that passed, cold and alone, felt like hours. His footsteps across the leaves made her tense in anticipation. The heat from his body behind her sent a shiver down her spine.

  His breath was at her ear, warm and inviting. “Are you sure you want to do this? There’ll be no going back. You’ll be mine. Forever.”

  His. Did she really want that? To belong to a man? Last time she took that leap, she’d been hurt – not only beaten, but betrayed. An emotional beating. Could she handle another if Cristian betrayed her too?

  His cheek rubbed against hers, coarse on her skin. Her eyes drifted shut. Breathe in, breathe out. He smelled like earth and fire and…home. She sighed. “Yes,” she answered, feeling the weight of it to the depths of her soul. She wanted this more than anything.

  He exhaled then stepped away. She remained against the tree, shaking, fighting the urge to turn around and throw her arms around his neck. But if this was a test of her commitment, she would pass it.

  Something hard and smooth touched the inside of her ankle then glided up past her knee. Not metal. Not his hand. Smelled like leather. His whip handle? It tapped the inside of her thigh twice.

  “Open,” he commanded. She took a step out. He tapped again. “Wider.” Trembling, she took another step.

  The air felt cooler on her skin, sensitive with arousal and anticipation. She wanted him wrapped around her body like a blanket. His hand slid between her legs and grabbed her mound. Her cheeks heated. She was wet. Naked, being ordered around and she was turned on?