Shifters’ Fae Captive by Lacey Carter Andersen
Chapter 4
Phantom
She emergesfrom the cave like a vision of beauty and my heart is taken by the prospect of touching her. Of throwing her over my shoulder and bringing her to safety. Ann is without a doubt a vision with her long blonde hair tied in a braid that moves down her back, and the leather clothes that hug her every curve. She is not at all who I thought our mate would be. I never even imagined we’d find a mate after all we’ve lost.
But as much as she complicates this, as much as I fear for her, the mate-pull can’t be ignored. The instant I smelled her, I knew she was ours and ours alone. The only thing we could do was to take her, for her own sake, and for our own sanity.
Still, we need to tread lightly with her. In our time as prisoners with the light fae, we saw a dark and terrible side to who they are and what they can do. They claimed the dark fae were the evil ones, but we could see the truth. Good people didn’t trap and enslave others. They didn’t put collars on them and force them to kill.
The thought of the many innocents we were forced to kill because of those collars that gave us no choice, makes my blood boil with rage. There are many things I’ve done in my life that I regret, but the helplessness I felt as a prisoner, the disgust I felt with myself when I killed like a dog with a master, it was not something I’d soon ignore.
And with Ann, we had to have her. There was no choice. But we did have a choice in how we approached her. Our mate would not be treated like a prisoner, any more than we could help it. We would always treat her with kindness and respect, even if we didn’t know yet who she is as a person, nor what to expect from her.
Dusk looks at me, then her while Onyx focuses on nothing but the woman, and I can’t blame them. There’s something about her, a glow, an aura that shines like a beacon. If she were one of our women, we would have already bedded her. She would be in our arms night and day.
But no matter how she calls to us, we have to accept she is not of our kind, and that her mate-rituals might be different.
“What is the Void?” Her voice is like a melody. A song that hits my guts and makes me want, makes me long to crush her against me.
Yet I can see it in her face. She is frightened of me. Of all of us.
So, we would start slower.
“Something bad.” I smile like by that motion alone I can dispel her fears, at least make them subside, but it's a fool’s notion. Her fear is as visible as it is potent and I want to touch her, but Dusk is there with one hand on her shoulder. He’s gentler, less fierce, smaller in stature, and less threatening. It’s better to let him comfort her.
But it isn’t to him she looks for answers. It’s to me. “And I’m in danger?”
Fuck. That’s not what I wanted her to know. Not yet. Our tiny mate is already afraid of us. I didn’t need her to fear the Void yet, or the monsters that lurk within it.
“We will protect you.” I leave no question in my tone. No reason for her to doubt, but her gaze falters, her eyes darken. Her fear is real.
“Why?”
The question takes me off guard. “Why are you in danger or why would we protect you?” One of those answers is infinitely easier to explain than the other.
“Yes.” She nods and half-smiles, hiding her fear behind curiosity. But I can still feel it vibrating inside her.
“We have much to discuss.” I sound like one of the elders and Dusk chuckles beside me. He knows we can’t tell her everything. He also knows I’m fluttering, rippling, and the woman is not the only body vibrating. We’re tuned in that way.
“Yes.” I draw her to the fire outside and we all sit. I’m beside her, Dusk on the other side, and Onyx across from her. Dusk signs to him, telling Onyx to offer her food and drink.
“Are you deaf?” She’s looking at Onyx. It’s one of the easy questions for everyone but me. For me, it’s a bad memory laced with so many bad memories that just thinking about any of it makes me want to punch myself in the face, or race through the woods, destroying everything in my path.
Onyx stares at her. Unwilling to show himself as he is. He’s an enigma. A man of few words even before he lost his hearing. Once he told me that losing his hearing wasn’t as bad as I imagined. That at least it gave him an excuse not to talk to the others. I’m truly not sure if he said that to make me feel better, or because he wanted to ease my guilt.
Probably the latter.
Dusk answers for him. Something he often does, even from the time we were boys. “He is.”
She watches us, fear still glowing. Eyes still bright.
“You’re our mate.” I’ve seen what happens when this information isn’t communicated with strength of tone, with decisive command. It isn’t pretty. Compliance is requisite in this situation.
But she scoffs. “I’ve had a mate and lost him.”
That does surprise me. She’s young to have lost her first mate. “Perhaps, but it doesn’t change that we’re your mates. The mate bond is too powerful to be anything else.”
Her expression says she doesn’t believe me. “I just want to go home now.”
She’s brave, voice strong, eyes piercing as she glances from me to Onyx to Dusk. There’s a confidence in that gaze, as if she can use her beautiful blue eyes to entice or enchant, to convince us of something we know can never happen.
“No.” The answer doesn’t require expansion. She can’t go home. Period. It isn’t an option.
“Yes. I want to go home.” She speaks with force now, a panic inside of her erupting through her tone. The inflection comes with strength.
“No.”
Softer, Dusk adds, “You aren’t safe there.” Onyx nods as Dusk speaks again. “You’re safe here. You’re our mate and we will protect you.”
Her nostrils flare and she’s angry and it’s beautiful. The glow around her changes colors, darker now. “Who’s going to protect me from you? You’re kidnappers.”
“You’re our mate. We didn’t have a choice.” And that’s all she needs to know. Dusk and Onyx watch her intently. I think hoping for any sign that she realizes this mate-bond between us can’t be ignored.
But I can already read her feelings well. Whether it’s from the trauma of losing the man she believed was her mate, or something else, she’s blocked her awareness of this tie between us. It can’t last forever, but her disbelief of the truth will certainly make things harder.
Dusk puts an arm around her and hauls her into his side. Her eyes go wide, and she shoves against him, glaring. Then, she crosses her arms in front of her chest and glares at all of us as if her eyes alone could make us all disappear in a puff of smoke.
A look of hurt comes and goes in a flash across my little brother’s face, and my chest aches. After all he’s been through, he deserves to have this one thing go smoothly. When he’s ready and willing to give all his love and affection to one person, it only seems fair the woman should want him back. But nothing in our lives has gone the way it was supposed to, so it’s no surprise to me this hasn’t either.
Unfortunately, my brother has always been a bit of an optimist.
I slide my gaze back to her and see the defiance in her eyes. It hits me that this stubborn woman still doesn’t understand. Even after we’ve explained that she’d be in danger without us, she thinks that going home is what’s best for her. And a thought like that could just get her killed. “You can never go home. Do you understand me?”
She frowns then stares into the fire. “I’m going home.”
“No.”
The fire crackles, spits embers into the air and she watches them while I watch her. The light shines off her hair, giving it an even more golden glow, mimicking the flames themselves. She’s holding her body rigid now, head straight, shoulders back. Defensive, ready to run and as much as the desire to get away radiates off her, her resignation is only visible in the thin line of her lips.
Her attitude is an insult. It’s hurtful even, but I ignore it because she’s here and she hasn’t yet decided to leave. Although, she will and then our game changes to something else. One where if she wins, she dies. And if we win, she might just die anyway.
She glances at me. It’s then, in that short look at her face, that I know. She’s planning something. An escape.
And it’s going to be up to me to stop her.
