Dawn's Awakening

  A slender shadow jumped, two graceful feet aimed for the head but struck the shoulder as a purely catlike twist-and-drop was performed while the larger figure was pushed back, but not down.

  Seth stood, his heart in his throat as he watched the maneuvers. He could see the size of the Breed she was sparring with and guess at his identity. Stygian—he hadn’t taken a last name. A dark Wolf Breed created from the DNA of the black wolf. Blue eyes and coffee-colored skin. He was massive, six and a half feet tall, with shoulders a football player dreamed of having.

  He struck out as the too-small form advanced again, locked his arms around her neck as a feline scream erupted.

  “Does it hurt?” Stygian growled as he suddenly pushed her away. “You’re mated, little Cougar. You think I’m gonna stand here and let you beat on me to keep from touching you?”

  “Bring it on, asshole.” She was panting, crouched, waiting for him.

  A dark chuckle filled the room as they began a slow, intricate dance around the area. Thrust and parry, a slender shape striking where the larger would least expect it.

  A powerful kick to his knee and she was ducking, twisting, kicking out at the opposite knee from behind before executing a quick roll and jumping to her feet several feet away.

  Stygian swayed, but he didn’t go down.

  “Next time I catch you, I’m taking you down, little girl,” he laughed.

  Little girl. The soldiers had called her little girl.

  Feline rage erupted and the next time Dawn struck, she managed to sweep Stygian’s feet out from under him.

  To give the Wolf Breed credit, once again he didn’t go down, but bounced against the netting and cursed before righting himself.

  “Almost had you,” Dawn snapped as the weave and advance between them began again.

  “You live in a dreamworld,” Stygian grunted. “You weren’t even close.”

  Back and forth, she moved to strike and he countered. Long seconds later he caught her again, her smaller frame swallowed by his. As Seth ran, sprinting across the room and rushing into the partitioned section, the only sounds in the room were those feline screams of rage and pain. Stygian quickly pushed her away from him and retreated, his blue eyes flickering with flames of warning, and Seth stopped, prepared to launch himself at the Breed if he touched her, just laid a single finger on her one more time.

  Dawn turned to him. Her face was wet with sweat, her eyes were red, haunted, tormented, as she snarled at him in aggressive fury.

  “Stygian, you can leave now,” Seth snapped.

  He had never seen Dawn like this. She was primal, fierce, ferocious.

  “Get the hell out of here, Lawrence,” Stygian retorted rather than doing as he was ordered. “This is no place for you.”

  Dawn turned and snarled at Stygian then, her canines flashing, her pale face white beneath the harsh lights.

  Stygian’s jaw bunched, and something akin to pity flashed in his eyes.

  There was something desperate, desolate about the sound that came from her throat. All the pent-up rage and horror rushing through her was in that sound. The memories she didn’t want to allow freedom, the child she couldn’t face.

  “Let him stay.” Dawn whipped around as Seth moved closer, a step closer. Her lips were pulled back in a primitive grimace of warning.

  Stygian watched him, his eyes those of a predator, his expression savage. Seth wondered if he was seeing the true color of the man’s eyes now. Stygian liked his contacts. Colored contacts. He liked shocking, surprising, throwing others off balance. Especially those who weren’t Breeds.

  “This is my fight, Stygian.” Seth faced his mate, feeling the power that filled his own muscles, his mind. Mating heat was a pain in the ass, but in this, it had made him stronger, faster. The decrease in aging kept him at his peak, and since the full mating had begun the adrenaline coursing through him had only amplified it.

  Stygian shook his head. “She’s going to kick your ass.”

  Seth smiled as he watched anticipation rise inside Dawn. She couldn’t be weakened by the pain if he touched her. She wouldn’t lose that delicate edge that the agony of another’s touch stole from her.

  He smiled back at her. A slow, sensual curve to his lips as he suddenly realized it had been coming to this. As the memories fought Dawn’s instinctive animalism, the situation had demanded this confrontation. The animal wouldn’t let her give herself totally to him unless he took it. There could be only one alpha male, and to accept him, that part of her needed to know he was stronger, faster, that he could take her down and force her submission if he needed to.

  “I can take you,” she growled, her voice raspy and so sensually exciting his dick immediately responded by growing harder than ever before.

  “Can you now?” he drawled. “Shall we put that to the test, sweetheart? Do you think you’re the only one who trains? The only one who fights?”

  Oh, he had fought. He had trained beneath the best the Breeds had to offer for years. Stygian knew it; he knew Seth was more than a match for Dawn, but he thought Seth would let her win. Let her beat on him out of pity and love.

  Stygian had another think coming.

  He would never strike her. He would never hurt her. But there were other ways to bring her down.

  He was only barely aware of Stygian retreating to the opposite exit as he and Dawn began to circle each other, to prepare for the strengths and weaknesses they would detect in each other.

  As they did, Seth felt his mind settle. The turmoil that had been rising inside it in the past few days hardened to resolve.

  “The next time you need to fight, you won’t go to another man,” he promised her.

  She growled. “The next time I need to fight, you’ll run with your tail tucked between your legs.”

  Seth chuckled, seeing her response to the amusement. Her eyes narrowed and the rumbling growls in her chest grew more warning, harder, more dangerous.

  And the battle began.

  She was damned good. Seth hadn’t realized how good she was, how strong, how coordinated. She twisted and turned and fought to kick, scratch, wound.

  And he laughed at her. He forced himself to laugh at her. He dragged the sound from his chest and wondered if she knew how much it tore at his soul to do it. He pushed her, chided her, assured her she couldn’t win.

  He blocked most of the moves, took the ones he couldn’t block, and each time he got his hands on her he restrained her. He held her against his chest, or pushed her into the padded wall. He held her for long seconds.

  “Fight me, Dawn.” Holding her broke his heart; hearing those feral screams tore at his soul.

  He released her, jumped back and ducked as she kicked off from the wall and flew over his head.

  She executed another of those feline twists and landed in a crouch.

  “Is this how you deal with it?” He finally struck, as realization slapped him as hard as one of her fists did and she flew by him again. “Is this what you do, Dawn? You fight because you can’t cry?”

  She froze, crouched, a black shadow, her face paper white, her eyes flames of agony, the whites red, the need to drain that fury and that pain welling just beyond them.

  God, the tears that were trapped inside her.

  “You fight to get rid of the pain. You hurt yourself, you let others bruise you, and you deliver as much pain as you can, don’t you, Dawn?” he whispered into the silence of the room, watching her, knowing he would see a shift of muscle before she moved. And he would feel it, he would know it was coming.

  He watched the eyes, locked on his, the pupils dilated until her gaze was nearly black as sweat poured from her hair and her face.

  “Does it take the pain away?” He shifted to the side, moving slowly, almost casually. “Does it make the memories subside?”

  She flinched and everything inside his soul was torn to shreds. Because he knew that was exactly what she did.

  “You don’t know—”

&
nbsp; “What I’m talking about?” He finished for her.

  “You don’t.” She struck.

  The words weren’t out of her mouth before she moved. Seth barely avoided her claws or those lethal feet before he hooked his arm around her waist and slammed her into the mat beneath them.

  Feral, inflamed, her scream echoed through the training room and through his soul as he held her down.

  “Is this what fighting others won’t give you?” he yelled over the snarls. “Is this it, Dawn? They won’t force you to remember? Because you can’t let it go yourself.”

  And he knew it was the truth. Callan had put out the order years ago. When sparring, Dawn was not to be held down, no matter the circumstance, for more than a three-second count. There were no excuses allowed; ignoring that order called the wrath of their pride leader down, and none of the Breeds in Sanctuary wanted to tangle with Callan.

  He wasn’t pride leader by election, but by strength.

  And he wasn’t Seth’s pride leader.

  Seth tightened his legs on her thighs, held her wrists with one hand, a hard hand pressed between her shoulders, flattening her to the mat.

  “Is this what you are, Dawn?” he yelled, furious himself now, livid that she had to beat herself to exhaustion to still the memories, to still the pain raging inside her. “Are you an animal? Is that what God gave Callan the strength to rescue you for? So you could hide? So you could deny what you are by pushing it back forever?”

  God forgive him.

  The scream that came from her throat must have echoed through the house.

  “Listen to yourself,” he roared. “Feel yourself, Dawn. What are you? Are you the animal the Council wanted? They fucking won, didn’t they?” He wanted to shake her. He wanted to hold her and still the pain in both of them, and his tears fell because hers wouldn’t.

  “Answer me, damn you.” He twisted his fingers in her hair and held her head still, her cheek pressed into the mat as he stared down at her.

  He could hear the feet pounding on the stairs leading to the room, the door slamming into the wall as others rushed to them.

  “Get out of here!” He lifted his head, rage scouring his voice as Callan, Jonas, Elizabeth and Dash stood in the entrance, watching in shock.

  “Let her go!” Callan’s voice was more animal than man. “Let her go or I’ll kill you.”

  Dawn’s scream had them all flinching. Elizabeth’s eyes welled with tears as she buried her face in Dash’s chest and they turned, pulling back.

  “You turned your back on her,” Seth charged, holding Dawn as pure animal screams left her throat now. “You didn’t even watch those fucking images you showed me, you turned your fucking back on her then and you can do it now.”

  Dawn bucked, fought, her muscles tightened to the breaking point as she screamed again.

  “Let her fucking go!” Callan jumped to race to them before Jonas caught him. Jonas, then Dash, pushed their pride leader to the wall as he snarled and struggled against them.

  “You son of a bitch, let her go!” Callan’s rage was a terrible sight, nearly as terrible as the sound of Dawn’s feral screams rising.

  “You sons of bitches, let her go!”

  He was the new Breed. He was young. Dawn knew his voice, knew he was strong and had been free before they brought him to the labs. She knew he fought for them, took the lashes for them and screamed out in rage each time they took her from the cage.

  And this time, they brought him to the lab. They chained him to the wall and he fought the chains. Fought them until blood welled beneath the steel as it welled beneath the restraints that held her.

  She was screaming. Held to the metal table, the soldiers laughing around her as one moved into position.

  “You bastards! I’ll fucking kill you!” Feral, primal rage filled the room as she felt that first touch. And the animal, it rose inside her. Her screams tore from her throat, her prayers…If she prayed, they hurt her worse, she knew they hurt her worse, just for praying. But the animal, the animal wouldn’t listen…

  “Oh God…Oh God…Save me! Save me!”

  They froze. Seth’s gaze jerked back to Dawn as he heard the wail, a child’s cry filled with such agony, such brutal, soul-searing pain that it sliced into him with a wound he knew would never heal.

  “Save me!” she screamed again. Jerking. Crying. Sobs ripping from her throat. “Oh God! Save me!”

  The strength went out of her. Seth moved to her side carefully, trying to pull her into his arms.

  She shuddered and fought, curling into herself, a fetal position of agony as her arms wrapped around her stomach and the woman’s cries tore free.

  This wasn’t the animal. This was the woman, the child, the fury and pain that couldn’t be contained tearing through her as the memories rushed inside her.

  Seth couldn’t bear it. He jerked her to him, curled himself around her and bent his head over hers. To cry with her. He couldn’t hold back his own tears.

  God help him, she was his. His heart and soul and everything he had known or loved in his entire life. She was steel and satin, lace and courage. And she was so much a part of him that when she latched on to him, he could only hold her tighter.

  “He wouldn’t save me!” she screamed out, agony resonating through her voice. “He didn’t save me. Oh God. Oh God, why didn’t you save me!”

  Her tears were soaking through his T-shirt, burning into his heart. Scars, of such brutality that he had never imagined feeling them, ripped at his being as he rocked her. He fought to hold her.

  “He saved you, Dawn,” he whispered. “He brought Callan to you. Callan rescued you. Callan slew Dayan and freed you. Then Callan brought you to me. God brought you strength, Dawn. He saved you.”

  “I prayed,” she sobbed. “I prayed like that stupid book I hid told me to pray. I prayed and I begged and I read and He didn’t make it stop. It didn’t stop!”

  They had still hurt her. The Bible had promised her God’s protection, and Dawn hadn’t seen the protection God had given her.

  “Did Callan hurt you?” He could barely speak for his own tears. “Callan could have been sent to any lab, but he was sent to yours. He defied the safeguards they had in place and he destroyed the monsters, Dawn. God sent him to you. And God sent me to you. And you to me. And God helped you hide those memories. He gave you escape. He heard you, baby. He heard you.”

  She collapsed against him. The sobs were tearing from her throat now, shaking her body, and he knew, he knew as certainly as anything in his life, as certainly as he knew that God had indeed watched over her, that those memories were pouring back.

  And all he could do was hold her.

  The demons were long dead, but for this moment they were as fresh and as clear as yesterday. Right now, as he held her to his chest and fought to shelter her with his strength, Dawn could do nothing but remember. And shed the tears…

  CHAPTER 21

  He carried her to their bedroom.

  Dawn was aware that they were alone. The Breeds that patrolled the house were noticeably absent, and Callan, Jonas, Dash and Elizabeth didn’t follow them.

  They held back as she cried. Broken sobs that should have been silenced long before this, and the tears that still soaked Seth’s shirt.

  She remembered. The memories were bleak and ugly, filled with pain and hopelessness, just as the images had been. But that wasn’t why she cried. She cried because as the memories flowed over her, so had realization.

  She hadn’t been deserted. Not by God, and not by herself. She had hid from them. She had hid from the child she had been because she had sworn, vowed to herself and to God that she would kill the bastard that had tried to destroy her. She had sworn it to every child that died by his hand during their stay there, and she had sworn it to herself.

  But she hadn’t killed him. His blood hadn’t soaked her hands. She hadn’t tasted her own vengeance, and that was part of what she couldn’t face. That and the fear that she w
as lost, never a part of the true circle of life. Neither human nor animal in the eyes of a supreme being.

  “I’m sorry,” the half sob came as she tried to unclench her hands from his neck, tried to ease the desperate hold she had on him.

  “Apologize to me for your pain, Dawn, and I really will spank you,” he snapped. “As God is my witness, if you take another helping of guilt on your slender shoulders then you’ll destroy my heart.”

  She could do more than scent his pain now, she could feel it. His pain that she had suffered, his willingness to do anything, no matter the cost, to ease her. His complete, unquestioned dedication to her.

  Her true mate.

  Something inside her had shattered as he held her down, as he yelled at her, as he forced her to remember, to realize what she didn’t want to remember or to accept. She had smelled his pain, felt it blending with her own, tearing through her, breaking down the walls she had erected so long ago.

  Those memories lived inside her. Knowing what had happened hadn’t helped her to know why she hid from it. Now she knew.

  She knew, and knowing didn’t change anything. She had no identity to place to her rapist. There was no way to taste vengeance or to fulfill the promise she had made to God as a child.

  If he would save her, she would kill. If he would just make the pain go away, she would shed that bastard’s blood and make certain he never raped another child, Breed or human.

  She had failed, God hadn’t.

  “I didn’t keep my promises,” she told Seth as he stepped past Mercury and into their sitting room.

  She scented the other Breed’s compassion, and rather than shaming her, she felt thankfulness. The Breeds as a species, as a race, or however the world defined them, were worthy. God had given them a soul, no matter what the scientists believed. He had adopted them.

  “I swore I’d kill him,” she whispered. “I didn’t.”

  “Callan did it for you, Dawn.” He carried her into the bedroom, then to the bed. “You were a child. No one could expect you to do it all.”

  He sat on the bed, still holding her, his arms so strong. He was so strong, so warm and so important to her very existence.

  “I swore,” she whispered again.

  “And He forgave,” he told her gently, his hand moving to tip her head back.

  And then she saw the destruction of his tears. His expression was ravaged, heavy with grief, his gray eyes nearly black with emotions as he cupped her face in his palm.

  “I love you,” he whispered, and her heart stilled in her chest. “I have loved you since the day I saw you, and the depth of that love can never do anything but deepen, Dawn. Whether you stay with me, or you walk away, I need you to know that. You define my soul.”

  She blinked back at him, swallowing tightly.

  “The mating heat…”

  “Didn’t start until we touched,” he told her. “I loved you before I touched you. When I saw you, I felt my heart beat and I swear to you, I felt it beating for you.”

  She stared up at him, feeling all the fears begin to lift, all the fears that he would reject her, even now, after the mating heat, after every touch he had used to show her how important she was to him.

  “I wanted you then,” she whispered. “You left me alone, Seth.” Another tear fell. Another weight rose from her soul. “Callan was wrong. I didn’t want you to leave me.”

  His lashes drifted closed as a pain-filled grimace twisted his expression. “It wasn’t time. You know it wasn’t time, sweetheart. As much as I loved you, you needed your distance, and you needed your strength.”

  “And you had others,” she bit the words out. “You were going to leave me forever, Seth.”

  His head shook, his gaze became rueful. “I forced myself to let go of you, or I would have withered away, Dawn. And that’s not your fault, it’s mine. But no matter what I wanted to convince myself of, Caroline was on her way out. She knew it, and I did as well.”

  “She didn’t look on her way out.” Feminine fear, Dawn knew what it was, the fear of losing what she knew had to be hers.

  “She wasn’t sleeping in my bed,” he reminded her. “And she wouldn’t have been. No other woman has slept in this bed, Dawn.”

  And that she knew was the truth. There was no scent of feminine lust permeating the room, no taint of another woman’s hunger for his body.

  “I didn’t want to remember,” she finally said. “I knew what had happened. It wasn’t the memory of the rapes I was scared to face.”

  “It was the memory of feeling deserted.” His thumb brushed over her trembling lips. “Of having no hope, no promises to believe in. And the memory of betraying the vows to yourself.”

  She nodded. “I hadn’t kept the promises I made to Him. Why should He keep the promises I read of? Each time it was over, I swore the next time I’d kill. And I never did.”

  But the promises had been made. Another realization she had hid from herself for so many years. The agony had stopped, and eventually, freedom had come. And then, there had been Seth.

  “Come here.” He lifted her until she stood between his thighs, shaking, trembling as her body realized how incredibly tired it was.

  There was no adrenaline rushing through her, no anger or fury spurring her to fight against the darkness she always felt inside her.

  And now she was tired.

  The sun was rising; she could feel it in her blood, heating her despite the weariness as Seth slowly undressed her.

  He didn’t caress her as a lover would. He caressed her as a mate. Loving, soothing kisses where she was bruised. A murmur of regret at a scratch to her flesh.

  He had no idea that this was the least damaged she had ever been in a fight with Stygian. He rarely gave quarter, and he taunted her in the bargain. But it had never drawn free the primal fury that Seth had drawn from her.

  Because no other Breed had been allowed to restrain her; Callan forbade it. Seth didn’t