Chapter 385
Rafe just…stares.
His mouth hangs open and he stands still as he just…looks at the place his sister was standing just – just a fucking moment ago –
Where Jackson is now roaring his rage and pain as he turns, fruitlessly, looking everywhere for his mate like he’s just going to find her sitting on the ground behind him or something. But she’s gone – Ariel is…is fucking gone.
Vanished, like Jesse.
Like Juniper.
Who…who is taking his family, one by one?
“Let’s go,” Roger snarls, grabbing Rafe by his arm and striding forward, the needle still in his hand.
“Roger!” Rafe snaps out, digging his feet in, shaking his head. “We have to – we have to stay – she’s here –“
“She’s not here!” Roger snaps, spinning his head back to glare at his nephew, his canines elongated, his eyes alight with rage and with pain. God, his niece – his perfect niece – gone now too? Like Jesse, his fucking son? And Juniper, who had no god damn part in this war? “We’re getting out of here, Rafe! We need to regroup!”
“No!” Rafe roars, giving a mighty shake of his head. “We’re not leaving without her!”
Roger yanks, hard, pulling the boy to him. “You have a responsibility to this realm, Rafe,” he snarls, shaking his nephew, making him hear it. “You are second in line to this throne. Some mysterious force has just snatched the third in line from right under our eyes. I’m getting you out of here! Now!”
Rafe quails at this, at the idea of just…just leaving. Of not even looking for her.
“We’re getting you out of here,” Roger snaps, pulling Rafe forward, and striding for Jackson. “And I need your help with him. He needs medical attention.”
Confused, Rafe follows Roger with stumbling steps as he strides for Jackson, even as gunfire continues to explode on either side of them. Medical attention? Jackson doesn’t need –
But then Rafe’s eyes fall to Jackson’s hand, which is blistered with burns.
Burns from where he held Ariel’s hand, passed her his power, even when her power roared so powerfully that she nearly burned herself out. Rafe’s stomach turns at the sight of Jackson’s ruined palm.
But the agony on his face…
As they step closer, Rafe’s devastation grows. Because Jackson just continues to roar, his unharmed hand sunk deep in his hair as he continues to spin, wide-eyed, looking everywhere for Ariel.
But of course, she’s not there.
“Jackson!” Roger shouts, reaching for the younger man.
But Jackson just spins, his good hand lashing out, his knuckles catching Roger backwards across the cheek and sending him stumbling back. “Don’t touch me!” Jackson snarls around his canines, his eyes wide and furious.
“Jacks,” Rafe cries, shaking his head, reaching for him to. “Roger’s right – she’s –“
“We’re getting her back!” Jackson shouts.
“We will!” Rafe calls, nodding fervently. “But – you need help – we have to get off this field –“
“I’m not leaving her!”
“She’s already gone!”
Jackson stills at the words, staring at Rafe with such horror and grief in his eyes that Rafe moans, holding his hand out further.
“Please, Jacks,” Rafe says, his voice breaking on the words. “She’s gone – they took her, she’s gone – we can’t get her back by standing here – we need to go back to the base, make a plan –“
“I can’t leave her,” Jackson cries, his shoulders slumping in grief. “I – I have to stay –“
But he goes suddenly rigid as a hand wraps around his chest from behind. Rafe gasps in a sharp breath, horrified –
But the horror shifts to mere confusion when Roger peers over Jackson’s shoulder a moment later. And then Rafe’s eyes shift to the needle in Roger’s hand, the other side of which is deep in Jackson’s neck. Jackson’s eyes roll back and he slumps hard to the ground, almost taking Roger with him.
“Let’s go,” Roger barks, looking anxiously around at the battle. “It’s getting bad here. And I need…your help with this guy.” He looks down and grimaces at the huge form laying unconscious on the ground, clearly wondering how they’re going to lift him.
“Roger,” Rafe says, stepping close and kneeling down as his uncle does, already getting a hand beneath Jackson’s limp form. “He’s right – how…how can we leave her?”
Roger stills for a moment, sighing and looking down. “Part of being a good soldier, Rafe, is knowing when to retreat. Their forces took severe damage but they won this battle when they took her. And – I mean, can you go into that other world? Where she vanished to?”
Slowly, Rafe shakes his head, grief filling his heart. His wolf howls, devastated at his complete ineptness. God, what kind of commander or prince is he – what kind of brother – if he can’t even protect his little sister?
“Come on,” Roger snaps, holding his nephew’s gaze. “You think you’re the only one who lost someone today? For fuck’s sake, Rafe, I love you – but pull it together. We have work to do, and Ariel’s never going to forgive you if you leave her mate unconscious on a battlefield when he needs Ella.”
Something in Roger’s tough love makes Rafe clench his jaw. He nods once, hefting hard at Jackson’s body, getting him up far enough that Roger can slip his shoulder beneath Jackson’s armpit and then stand.
“God,” Roger growls as Rafe slips under Jackson’s other shoulder. “What are you feeding this one?”
as the battle continues behind them.
But Rafe can’t laugh, as they drag Jackson back towards the transport, glancing back at the battle that continues behind them. Because Roger’s attempt at humor, even in the worst of situations, it reminds Rafe too much of Jesse. And Rafe – he just can’t go to that space in his mind right now. Not if he wants to avoid going to pieces.
So Rafe just puts his head down, and stares at the ground, and hauls his sister’s mate away to safety.
Leaving his sister, wherever she is now, behind.
I’m screaming as my feet hit the ground in that strange other world, as I rip my elbow back in the way that Blaze taught me, catching my mate – my fucking mate – hard in the ribs.
But he just laughs and lets me push him away. I stumble forward, hardly able to catch myself as I look frantically around at this horrible, dark world. My eyes flash up to the three moons above me for just an instant before I whirl, my canines extended, to snarl at my captor.
Immediately, I try to throw myself back to my home world, to leave this horrible place. I beg, in my soul, for the world to turn again, to send me back as it did before.
But nothing happens. My wolf howls, frantic, spinning, looking for an escape. But nothing.
“Take me back,” I growl, spinning back towards my mate, my lips peeled back. “Now.”
“You really are very pretty when you’re fierce,” he says, smiling at me like he’s perversely proud of the way I’m responding.
My snarl only grows as I drop my hands to my side in fists, calling on my magic, intent on setting him on fire immediately – make him just burst into flames -
But nothing happens.
A smirk grows on his mouth and I drop my eyes down to my hands, suddenly realizing that my body is cool again – any threat of burnout gone because – because my magic isn’t working at all.
My eyes go wide when I see the two cuffs of light around my wrists, lightly encircling them like bracelets. “What the hell is this,” I growl.
“Oh, just a little present,” my mate replies. I raise my eyes to see him sauntering forward. “A pretty girl like you should have the finest jewelry. And you didn’t expect me to let you burn me to bits the moment I had you alone, did you?” He reaches out a hand, possessive, clasping my chin between his fingers.
I snarl and rip my chin from his fingertips but – quick as a snake – he his hand snaps out, his palm slapping me right across the cheek. I go completely still as I whip my face back to stare at him, my jaw falling open in surprise.
I mean, it didn’t even really hurt – barely stung – but I have never, ever been slapped in my entire life. And I find that I do not, at all, enjoy the experience.
“Learn your place, mate,” he says, perfectly calm, again taking my chin between his fingers and looking cooly down into my eyes. “A Luna obeys her Alpha.”
“I am not your Luna.” I work again to rip my chin from his hand, but he snarls, stepping close and wrapping his other hand around my neck, holding my head still.
“You are my Luna, and I will teach you your place,” he growls, shaking me, again taking me by surprise. I just stare at him, completely shocked.
The smile returns to his lips as I fail to make any further move. “Yes,” he murmurs, moving his hand up and pulling my cap from my head, tossing it aside like it can’t possibly matter and I’ll never need it again. “Yes, once we get you dressed up and behaving properly as a woman, you’ll make a very lovely Princess of Atalaxia. Won’t you, Luna?”
Prin…Princess? Of Atalaxia?
Who on earth is this man?
