Magda welcomed her with a slap on the back as she slotted into formation along with the others. Their unit would be employing hit-and-run tactics along with the Noxblades and wolves while the war bears would try to hold ground alongside Prince Alastor’s small unit of brutes. Apart from Callum, none of the other leaders would be fighting tonight.
This battle will make all the difference, either buy us the time we need or Ash Valley will fall before dawn.
The wounded in the med center, the surviving Latents, the kits who hadn’t learned to shift yet… they were all counting on a successful assault. And Dom. He’s waiting for me to come home. While their relationship might not be perfect, she couldn’t brook leaving him alone again. Those thoughts firmed Pru’s resolve as she shifted and fell in behind Magda, feeling incredibly small in ocelot form.
If she’d felt tiny compared with Mags, the bears loomed over her like titans. She’d never seen the Order of Saint Casimir geared for war, but they wore armored chest pieces, vambraces around their arms. Pru wished she could tell them how amazing they looked, how much confidence they inspired, but she could only snarl in approval. The wolves took up the call, howling their own battle cry, and soon the staging area echoed with Animari battle challenges.
“Let’s do this,” Gavriel bit out.
This had to be the largest war party that had ever slipped out of Ash Valley; certainly it was the most diverse. The Order of Saint Casimir exploded from the tunnel and hit the Golgoth from behind like a cluster of armored vehicles. For a moment, Pru just watched, stunned by such synchronized ferocity, then Mags bumped her, recalling her to their purpose, and she raced after the Noxblades, who had all but vanished in the dark.
For this fight, she chose a young wolf as her partner. She’d never have the size to take on a brute by herself, but she didn’t need to be a killing machine to serve the pride well. I’m doing this for everyone I love. I’m doing this for—
Dominic. Because you want to fight for us, but you can’t.
Somehow, her entire body felt lighter for that silent admission. With renewed determination, Pru leapt at a gray-skinned enemy, narrowly avoiding his razor-sharp claws when he spun on her. The wolf at her side went for the hamstring, and she bounded through the brute’s legs, ready for action. All around her, the Order of Saint Casimir reaped the enemy like angels of death, silent in their violence. Noxblade silver flashed in the night, and each time one of Raff’s wolves scored a kill, a howl split the silence. The taste of blood flooded Pru’s mouth as she fought on. For the pride. For my family. For—
Dominic. Always.
Pru still loves Slay.
The devastation in her eyes haunted Dom. No matter what he did, he couldn’t shake it—that moment of shock and pallor, where her freckles stood out like copper dots against skin like milk. She shook it off fast, covered up with a smile, but learning about Slay had fucking eviscerated her. Probably he should’ve expected that. Pru wasn’t the kind of woman who could turn her heart so fast, but it felt like somebody had cracked his rib cage and scooped his out with a rusty spoon.
She’d said that when she was with him, she was with him, but that didn’t speak to her moments alone, what she wished for in the silence of her own head. Somehow, he scraped those thoughts away and focused on the gunnery nest he’d constructed on the ramparts. If he couldn’t be in the battle up close and personal, he’d be damned if he sat around waiting to hear how it went. As he set up and donned the goggles he’d borrowed from the Order of Saint Casimir, Princess Thalia joined him.
“I wish I was out there too,” she said, her tone wistful.
“The lightning gizmo doesn’t have good range?” he guessed.
“You impress me. So many people assume it’s magic.”
“By which I presume you mean humans? Give me a little credit. Even if I don’t understand exactly how it works, I can tell you have a small battery pack in your bracer.”
“How?”
Holding up a hand, Dom shook his head. It wasn’t the time to discuss his keen sense of smell, but if he’d wanted, he could’ve startled her with an account of everything she had eaten in the last twenty-four hours. The Eldritch princess apparently had a real fondness for pears.
He skated his fingertips across the lenses of his goggles to activate them; the tech augmented his natural night vision, making the action look like it was happening right in front of him. Though he told himself he wouldn’t, Dom still tried to track Pru down below, scanning for an ocelot amid the melee. It was no use, though, so he flipped off the safety and powered up the beast of a gun. Most of the fighting was out of range, but when some dumb-ass Golgoth crept around the corner of the hold, Dom blasted him with great satisfaction. Even if the brutes were built like small dinosaurs, a hole that size in the chest had to slow it down. That one tried to get up, so he shot it again.
This thing has to be .50 cal.
That time, the brute actually exploded, chunks flying like shrapnel from a meat grenade. Killing took away some of the sting, so he locked on to the battlefield, firing whenever a Golgoth wandered in range. It drove him crazy not knowing how Pru was out there. More than once he thought, Fuck being supportive. She’ll be lucky if I ever let her leave the hold again. But despite his visceral terror of losing her—a woman who shouldn’t even be his—he’d never try to cage Pru or limit her in any way.
And if she comes back with Slay…if she finds him…
I’ll set her free.
Pru would never break her promise or abandon him, but Dom wasn’t such a bastard that he could be fine keeping somebody beside him because he didn’t want to be alone. And she’s propped me up “for the good of the pride” long enough. It shouldn’t have taken such a dire threat as Slay disappearing to wake him up, either. I’ll make it up to them somehow. The mate bond could be broken; it would just be excruciating. He’d tried to convince himself that she belonged to him now, but as he knew better than anyone, wishing for something didn’t make it true.
With a wicked hurt blazing inside him, he unleashed it on the cluster of Golgoth searching near the walls, probably for the hidden entrance to Ash Valley. He sprayed the ground, littering the wall with spent shells, and the enemy’s anguished screams spoke to a sadistic streak he’d never even guessed at before now. Heartbreak’s making me mean. It would be more satisfying if he could kill the invaders with his bare hands, but his status made that impossible.
“You hate it too,” the princess said.
Dom started. He’d forgotten she was standing beside him. “What?”
“The limitations placed on us. Everyone acts as if we’re incomparable, but the truth is, somebody else would rise up to lead.”
“In time,” he agreed. “But the chaos of the transition is a weakness we can’t afford. I never dreamed I’d see the Pax Protocols broken in my lifetime.”
“Do you feel as if…?” The princess trailed off, as if she wasn’t sure she should ask whatever it was.
“It’s fine. Finish the question.” Dom shot another brute. Without their C-TAK, the opposition didn’t have anything that could barrage the walls or he’d have sent the Eldritch royal below long ago.
“You failed. As if someone else could’ve stopped all this.”
“Damn. You don’t pull your punches.”
The princess sank down on the chill stone walls and drew her knees to her chest, suddenly seeming unspeakably young, though she was probably five hundred, given what he knew about Eldritch lifespans. “It’s not an indictment. I only ask because I struggle with it. If I’d acted sooner, if I hadn’t given my father so many chances to turn back, if—”
“Yeah,” Dom said softly. “I imagine how much better my dad would’ve handled things. Beren would still be alive, and we’d be signing papers instead of going to war.”
“We should stop. Guilt only inhibits our ability to make rational decisions.”
In the distance, something exploded. Where are you, kitten? Magda would keep h
er safe if at all possible, but Dom damn well knew in the scrum and filth of the battlefield anything could happen. His ears were keen enough to pick up distant echoes and snarls of challenge along with the wolves howling—because that was what wolves did—but with the radios down, he couldn’t demand a status report. If something didn’t give soon, he might chew off his own arm.
Hating himself for it, he took his impatience out on the princess. “There’s nothing sane about any of this. Why the hell does this Tycho think he has the right to rule over us?”
“We have stories,” she said. “I don’t know if they’re true.”
That wasn’t an answer, but before he could demand clarification, Raff raced up with a crackling comm unit. “We’ve got signal.”
“Do you know how to shoot?” he asked Thalia.
Shitty apology, but… he shrugged mentally.
“I’m on it.” Smoothly, she slid into position and went after the nearest target with great precision. Clearly there was more than swords and tech-lightning to this royal. When he handed over his goggles, her aim improved even more.
Impressive.
He snatched the radio from Raff and switched channels until he got Magda. “Can you read me? We stumbled on their jammers and took them out. The Golgoth are in full retreat. I’m awaiting orders. Over.” From her frustrated tone, she had been repeating this for a while.
“Reading you loud and clear. Crush as many as you can, but don’t pursue them into an ambush. If they get more than a klick out, circle back.”
“Understood,” Mags said.
He had to ask. “She’s all right?”
“Fine. Fought like a tiny terror. The wolf she partnered with seems like he’s half in love with her now.” That teasing tone goaded him, just like Mags intended.
Relief swelled inside him so bright and sweet that Dom went lightheaded. She’s safe. But… not mine.
When the connection dropped, he passed the unit back to Raff, who wore a roguish smile. “How much would it take to convince you to assign Magda to Pine Ridge permanently? Let’s call her a diplomatic envoy.”
Despite the sprawling shitfulness of his mood, Dom laughed. “She’d kill me if I agreed, so there’s no bribe big enough to get that done.”
“Then… could you put in a good word for me?”
“I’ve met you,” he said. “So that would be a no. If you win Mags over, it’ll be without my help. I like my head where it is.” He turned to Princess Thalia, still eagerly gunning down the Golgoths below. “You got this?”
She nodded without glancing away from her ground targets. “If I get tired, the wolf lord will spell me.”
“I will?” Raff feigned reluctance, but Dom had no interest in this exchange.
Leaving them to it, he headed for the staging area, as the strike force should be back relatively soon. I’ll hold Pru once more, just once, and then I’ll tell her. For at least an hour, he paced the chamber that was both inside the hold and beneath it, his strides echoing on the solid stone. At last, he heard the noise of the returning survivors.
Well, shit. It’s time.
28.
Pru smelled Dom before she saw him, all cordite, winter wind, and… fear.
The latter quickened her step, and with an apologetic look for the injured wolf warrior leaning on her shoulder, she raced ahead. Did something happen? But it seemed that was Dom’s worry too, as his gaze searched each face until he found her. Then his shoulders eased slightly, but his look skipped over her, as if he was seeking somebody else too.
Slay.
But she hadn’t found him, not for want of trying. To make matters worse, she hadn’t even caught a whiff of his scent. That failure left her shaken, despite their overall victory. How can a person just vanish like that? Something flickered in Dom’s gaze as he met her look, a strange combination of devastation and yearning. Pru had never seen his face cast in exactly those lines before, and then she was in his arms, his face tucked against her neck.
“I’m filthy,” she protested. “And people are watching.”
“Let them.”
“You’re so relieved I’m all right? At this rate you’ll give me a complex.”
“That’s not it. Just give me a minute like this. And then… we’ll talk.”
The successful strike team surged around them, likely heading off to celebrate. While they hadn’t won the war, this strategic victory had turned the tide. And I was part of it. Elated, Pru wrapped her arms around Dom. Tonight, I’ll tell him. What the hell was I so afraid of, before? Even if he doesn’t love me, he won’t reject my heart. She’d known this man long enough to be certain he would treat her devotion with as much respect and tenderness as possible.
“All right. I have something important to say anyway.”
It might be her imagination, but he seemed to flinch a little, and his breath gusted against her skin, tickling her ear. Pru squirmed and rose to kiss him with a fresh, fearless enthusiasm. At first, he seemed too stunned to respond, and then he returned her passion with an intensity that made it seem like he expected never to touch her again.
“We get it, you’re glad to see her,” Magda said. “But take that show somewhere private before it gets too steamy. I heard from Raff that your old place is mostly livable now.”
Deciding that was an epic idea, she laced her fingers through Dom’s and tugged him out of the staging area. Tonight, the hold rang with laughter and the start of a party that would probably rage all night. Guards were dragging out the best booze that had survived the initial bombing, and musicians tuned their instruments in the park. In silent anticipation, she hauled her mate along with her, heart thumping with excitement.
I haven’t felt like this since I first told Slay… Her heart ached over not knowing what had happened to her first love, but she couldn’t let that stop her. For some reason, Dom didn’t walk as fast, and she kept having to tug harder on his hand to keep him moving. She aimed a teasing glance over one shoulder.
“Lead in your shoes?”
“Something like that,” he said.
At last the somber tone penetrated, but there was no point in questioning him before they got to the apartment. As with the other unit they’d borrowed, the keypad wasn’t working, but the wolves had replaced the door, repaired walls and ceiling. The housekeeping left something to be desired, but she almost cried in relief at having a home again, no matter how dusty.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk first.” Pru shut the door behind them and carefully turned the lock.
“If you prefer,” he said, low.
The construction wasn’t enough to block out all the festive noises from beyond the residential annex, but this atmosphere actually suited the moment. While the future of the pride might still be in jeopardy, tonight Pru meant to gamble everything. Since the power wasn’t back on yet, she lit some candles while Dom perched on the edge of the tattered sofa, like this wasn’t his home and he expected her to ask him to leave at any minute.
Finally, the strangeness of his attitude sank in. “Maybe you should instead? You’re scaring me a little, if you want the truth.”
Dom swallowed hard and tipped his head toward the ceiling, as if he could make out the patchwork of plaster scars left from the quick and dirty repairs. “I saw your face when we first heard about Slay.”
Oh.
“I won’t deny that I’m worried and sad, but that’s how I’d feel if it was Mags or Arran, Joss or—”
“Stop. Please don’t drag this out. Letting you go will be hard enough. I promise I’ll devote all the resources we can spare to finding him, and I’ll do my damnedest to give you the life you wanted all along. With him.”
The onslaught hit her like a punch in the sternum. “Wait, so… you don’t want me? You’re giving me up?”
Dom closed his eyes like looking at her had become too hard. “Not from a lack of wanting, kitten. It’s only right, now that I understand how you feel. I won’t tie you to me forever be
cause we made a deal.”
I want forever. I want you. Forever. But with her throat tightening, she could barely breathe, let alone speak.
He went on, dogged in tone. “Besides… I have a confession to make. You never had to ‘take me on’, as I put it. Before, I’d already made up my mind to come home.”
The silence went on for a thousand years. Or seconds. Whichever. Pru tried to process everything at once, but his words sliced like knives. She didn’t know if he’d accepted her offer out of pity, or if she’d been tricked or—
No. Why this? Why now?
“You must really think I’m an idiot,” she whispered. “I went on and on about the good of the pride and my s-self-esteem.”
His gaze scraped down from the ceiling, lighting on her face with an anguished confusion. “No. That’s not what I’m saying. Aren’t you hearing me? You still love Slay.”
“Bullshit. I don’t understand anything anymore, and I don’t think you ever did.” She got up and paced by candlelight, stepping in and out of the shadows, silently playing a child’s game to clear her head. “You know what’s beyond ironic?”
“What?”
“I was going to tell you tonight.”
“That you love him?”
“Fucking idiot. You. That I love you. I get that you didn’t sign on for that, probably don’t need or expect it from me. But I wanted to tell you because for once in my life, I felt powerful and brave, like nothing could…” Damn. She swiped at her cheeks, her eyes, hating the tears that made her look weak. “We don’t have a great love, a destined one, like you and Dalena. I wouldn’t even have asked for you to say it back. It’s enough that you’re good to me—that you treat me like I’m important a-and that you’re proud to be with me.”