Munro (Immortals After Dark #18) by Kresley Cole

            One detail horrified her more than all the others: “You bit me? To turn me?”

            “Aye, I tried to save your life.”

            She cast him a murderous look. “If I’d survived, I would have become a rabid newling! No, worse—Ormlo would’ve vassaled me! Did you not see the way he looked at me?”

            The wolf’s jaw muscles tensed. “I would’ve done anything to save you, even become a warlock slave myself. Or mayhap I should have let you die?”

            “Apparently I did anyway. And then you tossed me into acid.”

            “No’ by fucking choice!”

            “And what about your jaunt into the past?” she demanded. “How could you not tell me you’d come from the future?”

            “It dinna matter. All that mattered was rescuing you from those newlings.”

            “What if I survived them?”

            He led her around a group of singing revelers, then said, “I changed nothing in your original timeline. I was never there. Your life would have played out without any interference from me. Which means you would’ve been killed.”

            “But you did change things. Your roar drew them early, and it likely brought more Lykae. My defense strategy would have worked with restocked ammunition. So I wouldn’t have needed your help. I certainly wouldn’t have made any vows in exchange for it.”

            “The pack attacked you on your wedding night, and you died. Period. Why else would the warlocks take you then? They could have chosen a year later. But Ormlo aimed the gateway toward that night twice.”

            “You’ve presented me with two unacceptable scenarios,” she said. “Either my people prevailed and I bargained with you for no reason, or I misjudged the newling pack and got the entire circus destroyed. Now you want me to live with that guilt?”

            “No, no. Your past remains in the past. Let it live there.”

            “If you’re so certain the past can’t be changed, then why defend my people?” Her gaze widened as the answer came to her. “You didn’t have a problem fighting your own kind because you didn’t believe you were actually killing them. You tricked me again!”

            “You offered yourself up to me and I accepted your terms.” He stabbed his fingers through his hair. “Regardless of how your vow came about, you’re sworn to remain with me as my eternal mate. No matter what occurred in the future.”

            Queasiness welled—because he was right. She’d pledged herself to him unconditionally. He’s . . . got me.

            He not only wanted to change her era, her calling, and her allegiances—he wanted to change her species. This immortal male kept saying that he’d saved her life, but he planned to obliterate her entire existence.





TWENTY-TWO





            Checkmate, female.

            Munro’s sense of victory dimmed right along with the light in Kereny’s eyes. Everything she’d lost must be sinking in.

            But her words had struck home, and a nagging worry took hold: What if his presence had changed her timeline? What if they discovered that in her true past, she had survived the newlings, then lived happily with her husband for years?

            Munro might have taken her from her future children. He’d be no different from the warlocks, and she’d have all the more reason to hate him. They needed to investigate the past as soon as possible. Loa would be able to help.

            He gentled his voice to say, “Look, we’ll figure this out. But for now, we need to take cover.” He led her along.

            Kereny dazedly walked beside him, her fire extinguished.

            Aside from her emotional lows, she’d probably been awake for more than twenty-four hours and hadn’t eaten in some time. The care of a mortal was very involved, yet he didn’t dare take time to let her rest.

            The fog thickened as they neared Loa’s. The emporium always had its own weather, as did the priestess herself with her mercurial moods. Loa was a mystery, and he knew more about her than most.

            Her accent changed from Hollywood’s version of a Caribbean Islander into a posh Sussex diction between one customer and the next. He’d seen her reading everything from tomes on quantum physics and string theory to torrid romance novels.