Chapter Twenty-four

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

RYDER

R yder saw the instant Morgan faltered, and his heart ached that she would doubt herself for even a second. Ignoring the chaos around them, he was at her side before full-blown panic could take hold. He cut off her view of the dead alpha, then caught her hands when she wrung them together, her grip so tight, her fingertips went white.

"I had no choice. He wouldn't have stopped until you and the others were dead." She looked up at him with shattered eyes, and his heart broke at her torment.

"I know," he whispered, then crushed her to his chest, unable to go another moment without having her in his arms. He held her tight, wishing with all his might that he was enough to keep her from falling apart. "You're right—he wouldn't have stopped until you were dead."

She shuddered in his hold, her hands coming up to grip his shirt, clinging to him in a way that sent his heart galloping in his chest. He ran a shaky hand down the back of her head, grabbing a fistful of her hair in his grip, then tipped her head back. "Taking the life of a wolf is different now that you're an alpha. You can feel their beast deep in your soul, and when one dies, you grieve. "

He tightened his grip on the strands of her hair, using the pain to ground her. "You did your job. He not only attacked the pack, he came for the coven. He signed his own death warrant."

Morgan shuddered, brushing her cheek against his chest in a very wolf-like way that he didn't think she noticed, something she did more and more frequently of late.

And just like the first time she did it, his heart melted in a puddle of goo.

Anything she wanted, anything she needed, he would give it to her in a heartbeat.

She blew out a heavy breath, her shoulders relaxing like a weight had been lifted, and he suspected part of her worry had been about his reaction. He cupped the back of her neck, allowing his claws to rest lightly against her skin. "Never doubt yourself. If you're in danger, kill first and ask questions later. Understand?"

A muffled chuckle came from her, and she lifted her head, humor dancing in her eyes.

But he was completely serious.

She didn't even have to ask for his help in getting rid of the bodies.

When she pulled away, Ryder crossed his arms to keep himself from dragging her back into the protection of his embrace.

When she glanced at the rest of her mates, Ryder glared at them, warning them silently that they better not do anything stupid, but he needn't have worried. They loved her just as fiercely and would rather cut out their own tongue than say anything that would hurt her.

He very much feared that as long as she remained at the coven, remained their alpha, she would have to defend herself over and over.

She was changing the way paranormal creatures were treated, giving them a second chance at life. She was giving people hope. Those who ruled by fear and greed would see her as a threat to be eliminated. They would want to destroy or take the dynasty she was creating with her very own blood, sweat, and tears.

Pride filled him at everything she was doing without even being aware of it.

By fang or claw, he would do everything in his power to keep her safe and her dream alive.

R yder's unwavering support gave Morgan enough courage to pull away and face the others.

The rest of her mates stood strong and proud, without a hint of judgment.

"You were badass," Draven said, giving his nod of approval.

"It was quick and merciful," Ascher agreed, a slight snarl curling his lips. "I would've made him bleed more before making him pay."

Atlas and Caedmon nodded to her briefly, warriors acknowledging another for surviving battle.

Kincade waited with his arms crossed, his legs splayed, but it was the compassion in his eyes that had her taking a shuddering breath. He understood what it was like to be in charge of others—the responsibilities and burdens they suffered in order to keep others alive.

He was silently telling her that he would stand by her decisions and be at her side at the end of the day to pick up the pieces. She gave him a nod, then turned to face the wolves waiting for her.

"Morgan." Ryder caught her arm, and she nearly groaned at his serious tone. "When an alpha is killed, the champion takes over the opposing pack." He waited a heartbeat when she continued to stare at him blankly, then he sighed and a tiny smile curled his lips. "The wolves are yours to do with what you wish. Most wolves kill or banish the ones who challenged them. The rest would be forced to assimilate into the new pack. "

"Because of course they would consider wolves more property than people." Morgan huffed in annoyance at how ass-backwards the way other alphas ran their packs. Shifters were more brutal in their way of life, their beliefs stolen from a time long ago.

Which makes sense, since they can sprout teeth and claws.

They needed someone strong enough to keep them in line.

Morgan just didn't think it did them any favors to rip families apart.

She glanced over at Carrington, but couldn't make herself feel bad for killing him. Seeing him just made her want to kill him all over again for the trouble he'd brought to her doorstep because of his greed. She'd given him more than one warning, more than one chance to walk away. It was his own stupidity that he thought she would just roll over and die to make his life easier.

"Thank you," she murmured to Ryder, patting his hand before she turned toward the wolves.Most of the men had removed their masks. They were so young that her heart ached. A few looked nervous and uncertain, the majority were stoic, just awaiting their fate.

"My offer still stands—you are welcome to stay or go back to the Assembly. I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt that you were just following orders. This is your fresh start to a new life if you want it." Morgan thought they would be excited at the chance to leave Carrington's reign of terror, but only five of them accepted her offer.

The remaining wolves hesitated, not trusting to keep her at her word, eying the metal wolves warily. "Take Carrington home and give him a proper burial. I hope you will tell the other alphas that I don't want any more trouble. No retaliation will come from us."

One of the older wolves gave a formal bow, then directed the younger ones to pick up the body of the alpha. They threw it over their shoulder with no more care than a bag of rocks and disappeared in the trees with barely a sound, vanishing in seconds.

All except for the mysterious man that had been standing in the back, observing everything.

As if her attention was an invitation, the masked man casually strode forward, clapping his hands together slowly. "Very entertaining."

He came to a stop directly across from her, only the wards separating them, but Morgan feared that it wasn't much of a barrier. If this man wanted to enter the coven, he would get across.

With a simple snap of his fingers, the dark mask dissolved…revealing a dark fae.

Fae that wanted her dead.

Morgan bit back a groan for not having expected them to show up at the same time.

His skin was a light gray with just a tinge of purple to give it a bit of color. He was tall, towering over her nearly six-foot frame. She was used to seeing fae with a sleek form, but this man had broad shoulders and thick muscles and enough scars that said he came by his muscles naturally. His black hair was cut shorter, so the slight wavy strands brushed his shoulders.

He had a strong jaw, his expression carved from stone, leaving his face all angles. His pointed ears looked natural instead of sticking out. His lips were full, but it was his eyes that arrested her—they were a vivid purple.

Caedmon and Atlas immediately came to her side, standing slightly in front of her. Caedmon crossed his arms, not in the least bit intimidated. "What do you want?"

The dark fae tipped his head to the side, a spark of interest entering his eyes as he surveyed the two. Then his gaze swung back toward her. "They're your mates. You willingly took a cursed ancient and a dark fae as your mates."

She scowled at the questioning tone of his voice. "Yes, and if you think of touching them, I will end you. I told the same thing to the light fae—they're mine and not going anywhere. "

Morgan waited for the fae to laugh or scoff.

She didn't expect a grimace.

"This would be easier if you were corrupt and I could just kill you outright." He sighed, like her life was a great inconvenience.

Caedmon reached back and pulled a sword out of thin air, his stance relaxing in a deceptive way that said he was seconds away from eviscerating the man. "What do you want?"

"He wants me dead, he's been ordered to kill me, but the fae have rules they must follow." Morgan tipped her head as she studied the man who stood so still and passive across from her, coiled energy giving him the impression of a wild beast. He wasn't as uptight as the light fae, but he followed a code that was just as rigid and unbending.

Morgan chuckled, but it held little amusement. "My guess is he took a little bit of a detour and contacted the wolves to do his dirty work. Bummer they weren't able to kill me like you were hoping, huh?"

"Indeed," he muttered, a tinge of wry humor in his voice, not the least bit repentant. Then his amusement dropped away, his features hardening. "Which leaves me no choice but take you back to Faerie for trial."

One by one, her mates came to stand next to her, a united front.

They would fight to keep the fae from taking her.

They would die for her.

And that was what raised her hackles.

The fae was alone, unarmed, and not even remotely worried about how he would complete his mission.

No…he had something else planned.

"No," Atlas said, a brittleness to his tone that had Morgan glancing at him.

He was worried, his body so stiff, she feared the answer might shatter him. "Atlas?"

He didn't glance away from the threat, like he was afraid if he looked at her, he would lose his shit. "A trial is just a formality. If you go with him, you will never leave Faerie."

When the dark fae across from them didn't deny it, her heart sank. "Why would I go with you if I don't even get a fair trial?"

"If you were corrupt and immoral, it wouldn't even be an issue." He looked off in the distance, squinting, even though the sun was just a hint on the horizon, then he gave a tired sigh, like not being able to kill her outright was a personal annoyance. "But you showed yourself to be honorable, which means you're worthy of at least a trial."

Morgan didn't like his attitude, like he was so much better than her. "A trial? Or an execution?"

He only lifted a cocked brow at her, completely unfazed, and she switched tactics. "Why would I go with you?"

Excitement shimmered in his eyes, his fangs flashing when he smiled, as if eager for a fight. "If you don't accompany me willingly, your coven will pay the price. Any wolf on the premises will be turned feral. They would spread through the world like a plague."

Her breath left her in a whoosh, shaken that the fae would go to such an extreme and destroy so many lives to get what they want. "I can't. The wolves are sick. If I leave, the wolfsbane will kill them."

"Not if they stay at the coven," he countered without missing a beat. "Your magic is soaked into the very ground. It might drain the wards a bit, but they will recover over time."

"You orchestrated this outcome." It was an accusation, but Morgan knew she was right.

Everything was too calculated.

Choreographed.

"Of course." He lifted an imperious brow, as if offended she would think he wouldn't have planned for every contingency.

Ascher grabbed her arm and spun her to face them, a muscle ticking in his jaw. "You're not going."

"I don't think I have a choice." Morgan spoke softly, trying to ease the blow, but it did no good. Heat began to radiate from him like a furnace, and she feared he was moments away from bursting into flames.

Feeling helpless, she looked at the others. "Give me options."

"We could kill him." Draven shrugged when she glanced at him, not looking the least bit sheepish at plotting murder. "What? It would buy us time. We can't let them take you."

"Is that an option?" Kincade glanced at Atlas and Caedmon, but both men remained stoic.

"No," Atlas replied after a moment, the pale lavender color of his skin fading as the sun began to crest. "The fae will just send more and more reinforcements. There will be no place to hide. If we fight, they won't just come for Morgan next time, they will come for the whole coven."

Draven nodded, like he was already plotting different war strategies and tactics, while Ascher cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulders, eager for the fight.

"No." Morgan turned toward Kincade, determined to make him understand. "If the coven is attacked, the Academy will be pulled into a war with the fae. We have to figure out a way to deal with this situation without dragging innocent people into this mess."

"As much as I don't want to agree, you're right." A scowl crossed Kincade's face, as if it pained him to let her go. When Ryder looked ready to explode, Kincade lifted up his hand. "At least for now."

It did little to appease her mates.

Kincade rubbed the back of his neck, then put his hands on his hips. "Do you have a plan?"

Morgan pursed her lips, not liking her choices. "Not a good one."

His skin took on a slight granite texture as his gargoyle pushed its way to the surface, despite his control. He gave her a grim nod, silently asking her to continue.

"Locate Thanatos." She grimaced at the thought of relying on anyone but her men, especially a god, but she had to trust that he didn't want the gods to return any more than they did. "I'll try to stay alive long enough for him to find me."

Ryder growled, shoving his way past the rest of her mates, and grabbed her shoulders, his whisky eyes glowing as his wolf took over, and her heart broke for causing him so much grief. He wanted to fight and ravage and defend her, but they had no choice and he knew it.

She threw herself at his chest and hugged him tight, the grumbling from his beast only then fading slightly. "You will watch over the wolves while I'm gone. Help them heal. Retrieve as many ferals as you can. Train those who are willing. Make it so when I come back, no one will ever dare try this again."

"Fuck, no." The tips of his claws danced threateningly over her hips, his hulking form looming over her, trying to intimidate her into doing what he wanted. "I'm going with you."

His earnestness was so damned sweet that the back of her throat tightened.

Caedmon exchanged a look with Atlas, then stepped forward. "They won't allow anyone but other fae into Faerie. We'll go with her and keep her safe."

"No, wait! Neither of you can go. You heard Aoibh—if you return to Faerie, you'll never be able to come back." Silence descended around her when no one spoke, and it felt like her heart was cracking.

They knew the risks, and they were determined to come anyway.

"Not happening. You?—"

"They either go with you, or we go to war." Ascher crossed his arms, refusing to unbend, the rest of her mates standing next to him just as resolute.

Her lungs burned so badly, it felt like her insides were being turned to ash.

How could they ask her to be okay with losing two of her mates?

She wanted to be selfish and refuse, and entertained the idea for a full minute. They could run, use the void to escape to a different time and place. Then reality crashed down on her. The fae would only follow, bringing chaos and destruction wherever they went.

The only way to stop them would be to go to Faerie and find a way to win the trial that was already stacked against her.