12. Emrie

Ihadn't noticed it before, because it was night and I was a little freaked out, and also I was trying to be calm for the cub, but there was a light grey mist over everything. Including in the house.

I sat down with the cub in the living room where the Clan, Roarke and I had just watched a chick flick—it had been my movie-night pick—and I'd gotten to enjoy a room full of males groaning over the sappy love story with a huge smile on my face while eating my gummy worms and drinking my mint water. It had been a red-letter night. I'd been having a lot of those days and nights lately, and I was a fan, let me tell you. It wasn't that my life until now had been sad, grey and dismal. No, not at all. It had just been sort of muted. And now there were colors everywhere, and music no one else but me could hear.

Not literally. I am not currently experiencing auditory hallucinations at this time.

Although—I shivered as I glanced around the dim, grey living room. Have you ever seen those movies where they leach just a little bit of color out of the character's world? Just enough so that the audience knows that something really whacked is about to happen?

Yep. Except this was real life, and I was determined to protect myself and the cub in my arms from whatever freaked-out thing was happening or about to happen.

And then, in the space of a blink, a large, very shadowy figure was suddenly sitting in the chair across from me.

"Hello, Emrie."

Now listen, normally, I don't talk to shadowy figures. Stranger danger, after all. But my Clan had disappeared, Roarke had disappeared, and there was a creepy grey cast to everything my eyesight touched. I was more than a little freaked out, and the sudden appearance of what amounted to a moving black shadow blob given form and substance sitting in a chair was enough for me to realize I might need therapy, or at least a plate of nachos, after this.

The black shadow crossed his legs. I could tell it was male from his voice, but also because he was massive. Or, at least his black shadow was massive. I couldn't make out anything other than basic dimensions. There was no form or features for me to focus my gaze on. I couldn't even make out basic skin or hair color.

I remained mute. I wanted to speak, but I waited him out, on high alert. I could run like the wind if I needed to to protect myself and the cub, and I could change into my bear in moments. While I tried to assure myself with these thoughts, they didn't help much, considering the man was a shadow, and would more than likely not be damaged by my bear claws or teeth.

Still, it was better than my fragile human hands and teeth, if push came to shove.

A glass snifter appeared in one of his hands. He sniffed the liquid before taking a sip. I sat back, suddenly very interested in not speaking first. My anxiety was snarling obscenities at me, but I was determined that I would give this shadowy presence nothing of me first.

It was something I'd learned from Alpha Riggs. When you were in a situation where there were powerful players on the board, you sat back and observed as much as possible, letting the other players show their hands first, and then you acted. And then you spoke.

So, I tried to shove my fear and anxiety down deep, and I waited patiently for him to show his hand.

The cub in my arms didn't even stir. It had fallen asleep nestled next to my heartbeat.

"No questions, Emrie?"

I raised an eyebrow.

He chuckled, seeming to find great amusement in my silence. "You remind me of your mother."

Now why did my insides squirm when he said that? He hadn't said it in a lecherous tone of voice, but there had been something there, just at the edge of his words, that bothered me.

Still, I said nothing.

He sipped his drink and gazed around the lodge casually. This told me two things: he might know the layout of the room we were in, and the lodge, but he'd never seen it in person. There was too much interest in his movements. Too much time spent eying the tiny details that most people didn't notice at first glance.

Also, he was incredibly observant. This made my skin itch. I always liked it when the villain in the stories was dumb. Smart villains were too much work to overcome. I'd just gotten to the beginning of my happily ever after and I was in no mood to take out some vaudeville villain who was too smart for his own good. The only thing that allowed me to keep my silence was the thought that I had a Roarke and a Clan who would help. And they were...somewhere.

His gaze focused on me again. "You look good, Emrie. All grown up now, I see."

He didn't mention the cub in my arms, and I didn't offer a reason why I was carrying it around. My skin was chilled, even in the temperature-controlled environment of the lodge, and my heart continued to thump against my breastbone with the force of a jackhammer. I waited for him to speak again.

"I knew your mother, once upon a time. Your father too."

The last statement—about my father—held a world of undercurrents. Dark undercurrents.

It occurred to me quite suddenly then, sitting in the lodge in what should have been a very safe Clan environment, that I was sitting across from my parents' killer.

And I was very much not safe.

There was nothing overt in what he'd said, just some emotional residue from his words that I was picking up. I wondered somehow if this was a natural phenomenon from having a mate who was a dragon? I didn't know. I'd never picked up on emotional undercurrents before in this way.

I finally spoke. "You killed them."

He nodded slowly, his words soft. "I did."

White noise bled through my thoughts and made me deaf for a few moments. My thoughts reeled and my heart shuddered. When I came back to myself, he was mid villain-monologue.

"I loved her, needed her, wanted her desperately, but she chose your father in the end, after I'd given her my whole world, and then they got pregnant with you." He said the last like I was a tick that had sucked the life blood of my mom, I kid you not. He looked at me in much the same way as well.

I held up a hand, stopping him mid monologue, my heart breaking and aching for my parents, whose lives were cut short because of this madman. "We don't kill the people we love. I mean, that's just Kindergarten 101 right there. That's not love. That's obsession. And, I'm not sure you've come to this realization yet, but you are aware that you're clinically insane right?" I checked things off on the hand not cuddling the cub to me. "Obsession with another woman leading to stalking her and hating her choice to be with another male so much that it ultimately led you to kill both her and her spouse. Also, the mind games here, I won't even go into. Let me just say, they don't reflect well on you or your poor life choices." I sat back again. "I'm assuming you're here to kill me as well? The tick that my mother gave birth to?"

I had no idea how I was managing to keep it together when I wanted to just curl in a ball somewhere and bawl my eyes out. But I had to, and I guess that gave me the strength I needed, because I was not this kind of girl. I was the anxiety-ridden, bury-my-head-in-the-face-of-conflict kind of girl. Definitely not the type to smack-talk a killer.

That's not to say I wouldn't jump for joy if Roarke or my Clan showed up suddenly, because my bravado would hold for only so long before I crumbled like a cookie.

The scene faded, as did the shadowy figure, and suddenly I was in the lap of a very ticked off, emotionally unstable dragon. The cub was gone, my Clan and Dice the apothecarist were looking down at me in concern, and colors were once again normal, without a grey tinge in sight.

I looked around frenetically, throwing myself out of my mate's arms and looking over the side of the bed. "Where did the cub and the shadowy figure go?"

Roarke reeled me gently back toward his lap. "You were asleep, mo chroì. It was just a dream."

I shook my head, feeling more than a little frantic. I was willing to believe that of the cub—my maternal instinct or something working overtime, but the shadowy psycho that had just confessed to killing my parents? Uh uh, there was no way.

I grabbed Roarke's shirt in my fists and shook him a little to get his attention. "You don't understand, Roarke! He confessed to killing my parents!"

At this, my room erupted into shouts and chaos until Roarke brought his dragon out just enough to instantly silence everyone. There was so much raw power in the room that everyone but me, including Alpha Riggs, had their head bowed and their eyes closed. My mate snarled into the sudden silence, "Everyone but Emrie, Dice, and Riggs out." His skin was warm where I touched it, but I think hot everywhere else. I couldn't even fathom the amount of control that must have took.

The rest of the Clan left the room. Dice ran her fingers through her hair and sighed. "Emrie, whoever you met in there, they put you in the tainted sleep to begin with, so I'm prone to agree with you when you say you met your parents' killer. They knew exactly where to find you, and they obviously have a Sandman on their payroll."

Roarke's arms squeezed me softly, and I realized his arms were trembling. In anger or another emotion, I didn't know. "What did he look like, Emrie?"

I shook my head. "See, that's the thing. He appeared to me as a black shadow. He had form and substance, but little else. I couldn't make out any defining characteristics. The only things I know about him are that he knew my parents a long time ago, he was obsessed with my mother, he killed her and my dad in a fit of rage because she chose my dad over him, he was aware I'd been born, he's huge, about the size of you, and if I heard his voice again, I could match it to him because it was that distinctive, but that's all I know."

Alpha Riggs sat carefully on the bed, well away from Roarke and I. "It sounds like he's a shifter. Usually, only our kind have forms that large."

A fact I hadn't put together until now.

I looked at the room's other occupants. "How did you guys wake me up?" I mean, if I had been put in a tainted sleep, I should have slowly withered away and died there. The survivors of tainted sleep were few and far between.

Dice bit her lip, looking the tiniest bit uncertain. "You have to understand, it was a life or death decision."

That didn't sound great. I braced for bad news, but what she said next almost knocked me off Roarke's lap in shock. "Alpha Riggs had to complete the first half of the bond between you and Roarke. It was the only way Roarke could pull you back to him, and nothing else I'd tried had worked." Shakily, I looked around me at scattered vials, potions, syringes, books, pestle and mortar, and various other healing things were scattered around the room. My room looked like it'd gone twenty minutes with the heavyweight champion and lost.

I looked at Roarke and he watched me carefully.

I had two options here.

Anger and outrage that the bond had been completed without my permission—a violation of my right to choose—or gratitude. If left within my tainted dreams I would have died. Our bodies withered in that state, the magic of tainted sleep sucking the life out of us. It was not the way I would choose to go if my time were up on this earth.

And really, hadn't I already chosen Roarke, over and over again? Sure, I wish I could have given the final permission for our bond to be completed, but Roarke and my alpha both knew my permission was a mere formality. My choice had already been made.

I'd gone from desperately in love with my best friend under what had seemed very hopeless circumstances, to my wildest dreams coming true. And even though it'd been just a week or so since we'd discovered we were mates, I'd known Roarke much longer, and loved him almost half that time. I knew him, heart, mind and soul, and let me tell you, wild horses couldn't drag me away now.

So option two?

I tackled Roarke, which wasn't hard considering I was still sitting in his lap, and squeezed him in as tight a hug as I could manage. In the silence of my bedroom later, I would puzzle over the presence in my heart that felt like a missing, lost piece had just slotted in and fused to me.

He exhaled in relief, and chuckled, clutching me tighter to his chest. I pulled away a little, and gave him a jaunty smile. "You really are the best mate ever."

"Well I do try."

I laughed and kissed his cheek, then turned to Dice and Alpha Riggs. "Thank you, both of you, for all of your help. And Alpha, you made the right choice."

Alpha Riggs nodded, though I saw that his shoulders loosened a little bit, and he put a warm, comforting hand on my shoulder. "I'll see Dice out, and then we'll talk."

I don't think that he could help the small alpha push that his words came with. It was just a matter of course when you were an alpha, but I could tell because he always tried really hard to rein it in when he was around me and I was particularly sensitive.

"Yes, Alpha."

He shook his head with a smile on his face, me not calling him Riggs in company now a joke between us.

I turned to Dice. "Thanks so much for coming over, and for everything that you did to help bring me back." I looked into her eyes, searching for what I didn't know. "I know it's your job, but I really do appreciate it."

Dice smiled. "It's a calling, I always tell people. And it was my pleasure."

She gathered up the odd bits, vials, and needles around the room, slung her bag over her shoulder, and left with the alpha.

I turned back to the fully emotional dragon in the room, almost afraid of what his expression would tell me. I found that I didn't have to guess. Because of the new spot he inhabited within my mind and my emotions, I could feel him, and I knew. He was feeling a chaotic yet humbling mix of fury over my parents' killer trying to trap me in a comatose state and drain my life away, luminous joy because he and I were past the first stage of bonding, with only our marriage and first intimate time together the last stage, and that he could feel me now, without doing his freaky soul looking thing that he did as a dragon.

And I could feel him as well.

The spark of his essence was so comfortable within me that my bear, for the first time in a long time, felt deeply content.

If there was ever a good time for a first kiss, this would not be it. I'd just been almost killed, and my parents' killer was still out there roaming loose. Also, I'd been in a coma all day.

But Roarke was an everflame in my chest, and his adoration and deep love for me was filling my heart like a balloon filled with helium. I couldn't look away from his glowing, beautiful blue eyes.

I knew his dragon was close to the surface—because of the glow—and he wanted to be present for what was happening between Roarke and I, and it filled me with joy. I welcomed Roarke and his dragon into our bond. Roarke's eyes blazed, as though he could read my thoughts. His gaze was so warm and full of tenderness and love that I wanted to burrow close to him and hibernate for the winter. With him I felt like I was coming home.

We both inched closer to each other, my eyes trailing from his eyes to his lips, and there my gaze grew laser focused. I couldn't look away, not even if a parade tramped through my bedroom.

"I'm sorry that I worried you," I whispered directly to his lips, my stomach swooping in delight when the pretty lips smiled at me. Seriously, why couldn't I look away from my mate's lips?

"It wasn't your fault," he assured me in a husky whisper. "I'm so glad you're awake now."

His lips hovered inches away from my own. His beautiful eyes lovingly caressed every inch of my face. "I have waited a very long lifetime for you," he said softly, and there was such a depth of emotion in his voice and in the connection that I was feeling from our bond echoing in my own emotions that I trembled, my eyes prickling with moisture. Then his lips formed a half smile, and I managed to pull my gaze from his mouth to meet his eyes. "You'd better treat my tender, fair-maiden heart well."

I didn't laugh because I knew he really meant it. Not the fair maiden part, that was obviously a joke, but the warning to treat his tender heart well. It was true. My mate was incredibly tender hearted, and it was really starting to sink in that he adored me beyond all reason.

In fact, in that moment, everything finally sank in. The fact that I got to be with my best friend forever and ever, the fact that my story wouldn't have a tragic ending, and that I wouldn't have to watch as some other paranormal—who could never appreciate or love Roarke as I did—mate with him and break my heart. He was mine. I was his. And heaven help anyone that tried to tear us apart. I had a dragon shifter mate, and I wasn't afraid to sick him on people.

With the twin realizations of how much he loved and adored me, I felt set free. All of my fears just whooshed away, and I suddenly very much wanted to kiss my mate. I leaned closer, my eyes watching his the whole time, grabbed fist-fulls of his dark shirt to pull him the last few inches to me, and kissed him, laying claim to those glorious lips that I finally got to taste.

And holy honey badgers were they glorious.

As our kiss deepened, my eyes closed gently, and all of the feelings I'd kept buried for so long became unburied. They came, not in riotous explosions like fireworks, but in deep cracks that broke through my very bedrock, expanding my soul, and enlarging and changing my foundation.

And the first time Roarke kissed me?

He cried.

His lips were warm on mine as he pulled me closer so I was resting more fully against his chest. My hands wandered to his hair, and I ran my fingers through the thick silkiness of it. His hands draped around my hips, and stayed there, not wondering an inch from where he'd put them, as if he were keeping them pinned in place with military precision.

Such a respectful mate I had. I loved him even more for his restraint.

The kiss became gentler, more tender, showing me that there was more than passion between us, there was also love. Roarke's hands cupped the back of my head and neck, his hands were so big they nearly covered them entirely, and he tangled his fingers in my hair, gently massaging my neck and scalp. Apparently he could multi-task; I, sadly, could not. My entire focus was on our kiss.

When we finally broke apart, I searched his face and dabbed at his tear-streaked cheeks with my sleeve. I didn't even think he realized he'd been crying. It was slightly alarming because in all the time I'd known him I'd only seen him cry the day he'd discovered we were mates.

"Are you okay?"

He nodded as he leaned in and tenderly kissed my forehead. "I'm perfect. Are you okay?"

"I'm perfect too."

He pulled me more fully onto his lap, wrapped his massive arms around me, and held me for a really long time.

For the first time in my life, I felt completely at peace.