The Marked and the Broken Read online

  I’ve been independent and on my own for so long, but I’ve just started to see what my life could be like if I had more. If I had them. Part of me wants to say, “Fuck it, I am who I am, my magic is what it is, take it or leave it.” And the other side of me is terrified that this has pushed them too far, too out of reach, and nothing I can do or say is going to pull them back into me.

  “And what about trusting us?” Bastien counters, pulling me from my worried thoughts. “We are telling you that we don’t trust them, and yet here you are, going against that and defending them.”

  “Because my experiences aren’t your experiences, Bas. You all grew up together, and you compete against each other, and you just don’t like each other. I lived with them; I’ve trained and fought with them. I don’t have the same hang-ups that you do. I don’t trust Lachlan or Silva, but I accept that your experiences with them are different than mine. I have never, and will never, ask you to turn your back on them just because I don’t like or trust them.”

  “Yeah, but that’s family, that’s not the same thing,” Knox argues. “And you can say that you trust Enoch and his coven all you want, but you went after them just like we did when you first saw their markings. Doesn’t that prove that deep down you don’t trust them either?”

  I rub my hands over my face and take a minute to collect my thoughts. “The word family doesn’t mean the same thing to me that it does to you. However if I apply your logic, Knox, then Valen and Bastien are biologically connected to Silva and his coven, so there’s an exception for them. But I might be magically connected to Enoch, Kallan, Nash and—yay for me—Becket. So wouldn’t the same exception apply?”

  “Why are you fighting so hard for them, Vinna? What’s really going on here?” Knox asks, and I don’t like the tinge of suspicion or accusation in his tone.

  “I have no idea, Knox. I didn’t intentionally mark them, so whatever it is you’re accusing me of right now, shut it the fuck down. I haven’t done anything to earn the betrayal that’s leaking out of your eyes.”

  Knox runs a hand over his face, and my chest aches. How the hell is this all going so wrong? This is me he’s talking to. I take a step toward Knox and reach for his hand, but he crosses his arms, physically shutting me out. I’m so surprised by his denial that I’m not sure what to say. It’s like he’s taken something fragile and beautiful that I’ve given him and smashed it on the ground, and now I’m staring at the pieces, desperate to put them back together but with no idea how. I just look at him, shocked and suddenly lost.

  “I don’t trust them,” Knox tells me.

  “I don’t either,” Bastien agrees, and his stance mirrors Knox’s.

  I step back and remind myself that, as much as I think they should cut me some fucking slack, I need to do the same for them too. A ton of shit has gone down in the last twenty-four hours, so I’ll treat them how I want to be treated instead of junk punching them, which is what I want to do. I cross my arms over my chest since apparently it’s the go-to move for stubborn assholes.

  “Your mistrust is noted,” I tell Knox and Bastien coldly. “I would also like it noted that I never know what the fuck my magic is going to do, but it always works out in the best possible way in the end.”

  No one says anything, and I ignore the ache in my chest when Bastien and then Knox walk out of the living room. I watch their backs as they disappear through the kitchen, and refuse to flinch when the door that leads out to the garage slams loudly behind them. I stare at the wall, not sure what to think or feel. Valen steps in front of me and waits patiently for my eyes to move from the wall to him.

  “I’ll talk to them,” he reassures me. “It’s been a long night, it’ll blow over.”

  I nod at Valen’s words, not trusting myself to say anything right now. He leans down, his lips skimming mine, and I can taste hesitancy. I hate that it’s flavoring his lips, so I reach up and grab the back of his neck and pull his mouth firmly to mine. I fill my kiss with as much reassurance as I can, and Valen drinks it up and asks for more. I kiss him until the ground feels more solid under my feet and he doesn’t feel so far away. We pull apart, and he rests his forehead against mine, grounding me in a way I desperately need.

  “Can we just try to make the best of this? Do what we can to superhero it up, kill Adriel, save some ungrateful assholes who probably aren’t worth it and definitely won’t appreciate it?” I ask him as we stand there, breathing each other in.

  He reaches up and caresses my cheek with his thumb, and gives me a small smile that doesn’t resonate in his eyes. He kisses the tip of my nose and then pulls away from me. My questions trail after him, unanswered, and I watch hollowly as he disappears through the kitchen door.

  “You alright?” Sabin asks me as he pulls on a strand of hair that’s fallen out of my messy bun.

  Everything inside of me screams no at his question, but I know if I speak that truth, I’m going to fucking fall apart. I shrug instead and swallow down just how not alright I currently am. I get the sinking feeling it’s going to become my go-to response with all of the shit that’s going down, but I plaster a fake ass smile on my face and try not to cry when Sabin pulls me into a hug and kisses the top of my head.

  “Let’s get going before Aydin blows a gasket.”

  I nod and nuzzle into the comfort of Sabin’s chest and the strong arms that he’s wrapped around me. “Why are we doing this again?” I tease, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

  I nod at the simple answer and ignore all the thoughts that tell me, if the roles were reversed, I’d probably be the property of Adriel for the rest of my days. I’m pretty sure Lachlan would continue on with his life and just pretend I never existed, rather than stick his neck out for me. Fuck. Sometimes being the bigger person sucks unwashed, hairy balls. Laughter vibrates in Sabin’s chest, and I realize I must have said that last part out loud.

  I look around the house that I’ve barely had enough time to call my own, and take a deep breath. Belarus, ready or not, here we fucking come.

  3

  I stare out the window of the plane into star kissed darkness. An occasional patch of clouds appears below the plane, and I like thinking we’re surfing the night sky as we make our way from Solace to Belarus. In my earbuds, Nothing More’s “Go to War” comes to an end, and Chevelle’s “The Red” picks up. I tap my fingers to the beat on the cream leather of the oversized seat I’m leaning back in. I lose myself in the music, using it to work out the tension that’s settled in my body since we climbed up the stairs onto this plane.

  Enoch’s face appears above me, and before I can so much as pluck an earbud out to hear what he has to say, his head snaps to the left. His face turns from hesitant and questioning to pissed in less than a second. I sit up a little to track who Enoch is now snarling at, and feel zero surprise at finding Bastien on the other side of whatever the fuck is going down. I debate for a second if I even want to know. I’m about two seconds away from just leaning back in the chair and letting them figure it the fuck out when Enoch goes from pissed to enraged and rounds on Bastien.

  I rip the music from my ears and unbuckle myself, ready to intervene.

  “We would never fucking do that!” Enoch shouts at Bastien, his hands slashing away from each other, his body language punctuating his point. His eyes are filled with fire.

  “Bullshit! You fucking knew what your dad and the other elders were going to do. You were all too eager to welcome her into your home and start working with her so you could see what her magic could do. Do you think we’re that fucking stupid? You think we didn’t know that you and your daddy were trying to set her up with you?” Bastien accuses.

  “Oh please, Fierro. Despite your delusional conspiracy theory, there wasn’t some big evil plan to steal Vinna away. No one even knew your coven wanted to claim her until the fucking trial,” Nash interjects.

  “Somebody needed to do something,” Enoch adds. “It
’s not like you guys were stopping her uncle from treating her like shit.”

  “You better shut the fuck up right now, Cleary,” Knox shouts and rears up out of his seat on the plane. The rest of the guys on both sides of the argument stand up too, and the tension goes from thick and uncomfortable to suffocating. “You don’t get to pretend that you’re some fucking hero, not when we all know what you let happen to Ryker!”

  Enoch throws his hands up in exasperation. “I was a fucking kid! I didn’t know. I thought everyone’s home life was like mine. I had no fucking clue what he was going through with his dad!”

  “You were his best friend, and it was fucking obvious. I told my parents that something was wrong, and they went to the council that same day. Your dad tried to convince the elders not to look into it at all,” Knox bellows, his face red and furious.

  I’m shocked by Knox’s revelation, and my gaze immediately jumps to Ryker. He’s standing next to Knox with his hand on Knox’s chest to keep him from advancing any further. His face is hard and unreadable, but his sky-blue eyes flash from torn to sad.

  “Here we go again with the your fucking dad bullshit. My parents were friends with his parents; they didn’t think Trevor was hurting Ryker. Either way though, that has nothing to do with me. You think my dad listens to shit I say when it comes to his decisions as an elder? I’m fucking sick and tired of you assholes blaming me and Becket every time the elders do something you don’t like.”

  “Something we don’t like? They set our parents up to get captured and then refused to lead a proper search for them,” Valen counters. He brushes the loose strands of his dark brown hair out of his face and takes an angry step toward Enoch.

  “Once again that’s not our fault, and once again no one knew about Elder Albrecht and what he was doing before tonight!” Kallan throws out, his tone fed up and tired.

  “Please. It’s clear the apple doesn’t fall far from the fucking tree, Cleary. You took Vinna from our protection, where she was attacked, spied on like a fucking criminal, and threatened by your piece of shit dad that he would fucking expose her if she didn’t choose your coven over ours. You knew what she was the whole time, and you lied to her about it. And then when she wouldn’t give you what you wanted, you took it without her permission,” Bastien spits out venomously, and both sides press even closer together.

  I scramble out of my seat and magic myself between them before the fists that both sides have clenched in anger start getting thrown. I pop up in front of Bastien out of nowhere. Which might not have been the smartest move on my part, because he slams into the back of me in an effort to get to Enoch, and I fly forward and slam into Nash hard. Pain slices through my stomach as I grab onto Nash’s shoulders to keep from falling. His dark blue eyes widen in shock, and fear lights up his entire face. I gasp, stunned and hurting, and we both look down at the same time to see the blue tinged blade in his grip. The blade that’s just been pushed through my stomach.

  “Oh fuck!” he shouts out in panic. I reach down and wrap my hand around his, the one still holding the handle of the short sword he just stabbed me with, and I sag against him slightly. A whimper escapes me, and it’s like somehow the small innocuous noise penetrates the yelling, and the plane goes quiet for a breath.

  “What the fuck did you do?” roars around me, and I can picture how Knox looks as the words leave his anguished and rage-filled face.

  “No one fucking touch her,” Ryker commands, and I can feel the way his order lashes out at everyone, making them freeze.

  “I’m sorry,” Nash laments. “I don’t know how it happened. Bastien came at us, and the next thing I know, I’m holding this, and then she was slamming into me,” Nash blurts, hurried and in shock.

  “It’s okay,” I offer Nash with a pained croak. “My magic always does weird shit when I felt threatened,” I try to explain, but it’s hard to get the air out to speak and then back in to breathe. If it didn’t fucking hurt so bad, I might actually find this funny. I’ve been trying to get the guys to fight with me and deliver blows like this since they got their runes, but they refuse. At least Nash will be better equipped the next time he goes to stab someone on purpose. He’ll know what it feels like and rebound better in a fight because of it.

  My eyes bounce from Nash’s dark blue terrified gaze to Ryker’s bright blue assessing stare as he moves over to us. His hand presses next to where the blue blade sticks out of my back, and I can feel his Healing magic as it moves through me.

  “Don’t let go of the magic or the blade yet,” Ryker instructs Nash. “Let me deal with what internal damage I can first.”

  Nash nods, and I feel his grip tighten on the handle under mine. “I’m so sorry, Vinna. I swear by the stars, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Nash tells me over and over again as Ryker continues to magically put me back together. I can’t talk very well, so I just pat Nash’s shoulder reassuringly and hope it communicates that I’m not mad.

  “Okay, that should keep her from bleeding faster than we can fix once the sword is out. Alright, Nash, when you’re ready, you can let go of the handle, and the sword should disappear. Then I’m going to need you to heal what you can from the front while I work on the back.”

  Nash seems to gain some composure with Ryker’s instructions, and he looks at me for a second and then back at Ryker. He gives him a nod, and then he lets go of the handle and immediately presses his palms into my stomach.

  Motherfucker! I shout internally, and externally I cry out hoarsely.

  “Shit, the sword’s still in her!” Nash announces, and he presses harder against the wound in my stomach.

  “You have to let go of the magic,” Valen tells Nash calmly, his cadence patient and his tone reassuring. He joins Ryker, Nash and me, and puts his hand on Nash’s shoulder. “Take a deep breath and feel for the tether of new magic in your chest. It will feel familiar but different than the Healing magic you’ve always had.” Nash does exactly what Valen’s hypnotic voice instructs him to do, and in a blink, the short sword disappears from where it was sitting in my abdomen.

  Healing magic slams into me, and Ryker and Nash sandwich me between them as they both work to fix my giant stab wound. I can feel subtle differences in their magic as it swells through me, knitting organs, muscle, and tissue together. The pain recedes, and I fill my lungs with a deep grateful breath. I give Valen a reassuring smile, and as soon as I do, he yanks Nash away from me.

  “Fuck, Fierro, I wasn’t finished,” Nash objects, but the rest of my Chosen close ranks and move Nash, Enoch and Kallan farther away from me.

  “We’ll take care of our mate from here. You’ve done enough,” Valen tells him.

  I turn to tell him to knock it the fuck off, but Ryker pulls his palm away from my back. He’s got an arm behind my knees in a blink, and he swings me up into a bridal carry before I can even find my voice to object. He hurries me away to the back of the plane and sits down, setting me in his lap. Ryker immediately shoves his hand up my shirt and pushes more Healing magic into me to get anything that Nash might have missed.

  I grab his chin and turn his attention to my face. “It was an accident, Ryker,” I tell him, urging him with my eyes not to look so completely and utterly pissed.

  His magic surges into me for a couple seconds more, and then he pulls it back. He leaves his warm hand on my stomach and puts his other palm on the back of my neck. He pulls my head down and presses his forehead to mine. Ryker huffs out a worried breath, and I run my fingers soothingly through his shoulder-length blond hair.

  “You could have been hurt so much worse,” he tells me, his tone haunted.

  “But I wasn’t. They’ll get control over their magic, and it will be fine. This was a fluke, not an assassination attempt,” I challenge and shoot a look over my shoulder at the rest of my guys who are standing guard to keep everyone else away from me. “Besides, I’ve never been stabbed before. Now I know what it feels like, and I’ll be more prepared to deal with it next time
,” I reassure them, and Ryker shakes his head at me.

  “Of course you would think somehow taking a sword to your gut is a good thing, you weirdo,” Ryker chuckles, and he pulls my lips to his. I open for him, but Ryker doesn’t deepen the kiss the way I’m encouraging him to. He kisses me slowly, savoring my lips, and I can taste the worry and the relief in it.

  “You know you like my weird,” I tease as I pull away.

  “It’s a good thing you’re hot, Squeaks, with some of the shit you put us through,” he teases, and I chuckle and play with the ends of his hair.

  “I didn’t know you and Enoch used to be friends,” I tell him, curious about the history that spilled out with this fight.

  Ryker gives me a peck and runs his thumb across my cheek. “Yeah, we were close when we were younger,” he admits, but then his features shutter, and it’s clear that he doesn’t want to talk about this anymore. I want to ask him if he thinks Enoch knew about the neglect and what he was going through with his father, but I don’t want to press him. He looked conflicted when Knox and Enoch were fighting about it, and I suspect maybe he doesn’t really know what to think or how to feel. The tinge of sadness in his eyes makes me ache, and I want him to know it’s okay if he tucks this piece of pain away again. He doesn’t have to look at it just because I want him to.

  “Think we can kick Evrin or Aydin out of one of the beds in the back and go make out?” I ask, my body warming as his fingers graze the skin of my abdomen, his lips mere inches from mine. A spark of relief and then heat fills his gaze, and I can practically see some of the weight and pain lift off of him. A flash of Ryker sucking on my nipple and pinching the other with his fingers, while Knox circled my clit with his tongue, pops into my head. I nuzzle the tip of his nose with mine, and Ryker laughs and then tsks reproachfully at me.