A Promise Fulfilled

A PROMISE FULFILLED

I force a laugh, the sound brittle and unconvincing to my own ears. “I mean, it’s late, and we’re all exhausted from the exams. Why don’t we save the celebration for tomorrow? It’s bad to eat pie right before bed.”

Aspen’s blond brows pucker. “It’s not even eight, and you never turn down pie.”

“It’s time to change those poor eating habits.” I try to herd him back toward the door. “You’re always harping on me to be better.”

“What’s with you lately? You’ve been acting strange whenever anyone comes over.” Aspen frowns down at me, not budging. “Is there something you’re hiding from me?”

“Of course not!” My voice pitches higher than normal, and I clear my throat. “We’re all just super drunk from celebrating and want to get the orgy going.”

Suspicion enters Waylon’s eyes. “Wolf shifters and vampires don’t get drunk.”

“She meant we’re drunk. Rowe and me.” Tris sways in exaggeration and leans against Haut. “Can’t wait to be taken advantage of.”

Haut squeezes his shoulder. “Super excited for all of that .”

Pink creeps into Aspen’s cheeks. “If you say so.”

He doesn’t sound convinced, but his good manners won’t allow him to question it further. I usher him back toward the foyer, praying they’ll drop it and leave.

No such luck.

Waylon’s gruff voice stops me cold. “Who else is here with you tonight?”

I freeze, my stomach plummeting to my toes. Slowly, I turn to see him pointing at the coffee table, where two extra glasses sit in plain view, mocking me.

A loud thunk echoes from the back hallway, making me jump.

Aven whips out his wand. “What was that sound? ”

Ros steps forward, tension coiling in every line of his body. “Everyone stay calm.”

Aven ignores him and strides toward the kitchen, wand at the ready.

I scramble after him, my mind racing. Shit, shit, shit.

“Aven, wait!” When I grab his arm, he shakes me off.

Rounding the corner, he lets out a shout. “Someone ran out the back door!”

My heart seizes. Esme and Zane must have bolted.

“It’s Princess Peanut Butter!” I blurt out. “My goat. She got spooked by the noise.”

Aven wheels on me. “You’re lying.”

With that, he charges out the back door in hot pursuit.

“Dammit!” I bolt out the front door, bare feet pounding on the wrap-around porch as I try to head him off.

He’s too fast, though, and I spot him leaping over the handrail into the back of the garden. Past him, I make out Zane and Esme, running into the sand dunes that lead down to the beach.

“Rowe, wait,” Haut calls after me.

Ignoring him, I scramble over the railing and drop to the ground, frosty grass crunching beneath my bare feet. I race away from the house, frozen sand burning my soles.

“Stop!” I yell, my voice straining. “Leave them alone! They didn’t do anything!”

Feet pound behind me.

“Rowe!” Haut’s deep voice bellows, but I don’t spare him a glance.

I pump my legs faster, desperate to reach them before Aven does something that can’t be undone.

The salty tang of the ocean fills my nose as I reach the beach. Ahead, Aven’s arm snaps forward, wand aimed at the fleeing pair.

Esme cries out and stumbles, falling to her knees.

In a blur of speed, Zane whirls around, fangs bared in a feral snarl as he moves to protect his mate.

“No!” the word rips from my throat, but too late.

Zane lunges across the sand. He slams into Aven, and they both go down in a tangle of flailing limbs.

Ros shoots past me, auburn hair whipping in the wind. “Stand down, Zane!”

But the enraged vampire isn’t listening. Clawing and snapping, Zane tries to sink his teeth into Aven’s neck. Ros grabs him from behind, muscled arms straining as he hauls Zane back, and they grapple, sending sand flying.

My heart hammers in frantic panic as everything spirals out of control.

Esme wobbles to her feet, tears streaking her cheeks. “Stop, please!” Terror tightens her voice. “Zane, don’t!”

“It’s her.” Waylon’s gruff voice snaps my head around. Recognition dawns on his face as he levels his wand at the trembling witch. “Esme Holloway. You’re under arrest for murder, by order of the Council.”

I lunge between Waylon and Esme, throwing my arms out wide. “Wait! Just, everyone, calm down!” My voice cracks as I seek out Gael, the Hutchen brother who’s always been kind. “Please, this is all a misunderstanding! Esme isn’t dangerous, I swear it!”

Wind whips Gael’s dark hair across his face. “She bears the black mark. Her and the vampire are fugitives.” His voice hardens, unyielding. “The Council demands justice.”

Behind me, Ros grunts with effort as he finally pins Zane to the sand. The vampire thrashes under his weight, spitting curses.

Twisting his head, Zane glares. “You promised. ”

The pain and betrayal behind the words punch me in the gut. I did promise to keep them safe. Esme’s soft sobs reach my ears, and I set my jaw. I can’t let the Council sweep them away, never to be seen again.

My fingers find the buckle on the leather sheath strapped to my forearm, fumbling in my haste.

Owen starts forward, alarm twisting his features. “Rowe, stop! What are you doing?”

I ignore the pleading in my mate’s voice. I have to do this. I owe Zane my life, and I’d be a coward if I offered him anything less.

The sheath drops to the sand, and I thrust out my arm, revealing the same black mark that mars Esme’s porcelain skin.

I lift my chin, meeting Gael’s stunned gaze. “If you arrest Esme, you have to arrest me, too.”

Shock sweeps through the council members, while Aspen doesn’t appear at all surprised, only pained at my revelation.

Haut steps forward, trying to shove me behind him “It was self-defense. Bryant was a monster.”

I dart around him. “It was self-defense for Esme, too. Her ex was going to kill her!”

Aven, Waylon, and Gael exchange loaded glances, their unease palpable .

“It doesn’t matter. The law is clear.” Gael lifts his hands in a helpless gesture. “Regardless of intent, they must both face the Tribunal.”

A guttural howl rends the night air, and my blood runs cold. I whirl toward Owen, whose features contort, shifting into his hulking wolfman form in a blur of fur and fangs.

No, no, no! My mind screams as he lunges straight for Gael, my gentlest of lovers baring his teeth in a vicious snarl. Shouts of alarm erupt from the Hutchen brothers.

Panic claws up my throat, and I start forward, but Haut’s strong arm wraps around my waist, holding me back.

“Let me go!” I struggle against his iron grip. “I have to stop him before he gets himself killed!”

Haut’s arms tighten. “You’ll only make it worse.”

Helpless, I watch as sparks crackle around Gael’s fingertips, summoning lightning with the spell I taught him mere hours ago.

“No!” I scream, clawing at Haut’s arms.

A blinding bolt of energy explodes from Gael’s outstretched hand, slamming into Owen’s chest with a deafening crack. My cry lodges in my throat as Owen’s massive form flies backward, hitting the sand with a sickening thud .

“Owen!” His name tears from my lips, and I wrench free of Haut’s grip to race to my fallen mate’s side.

Knees slamming down onto the frozen sand, I fall beside Owen’s sizzling body.

Please be alive, please be alive , my mind chants.

Owen’s chest rises and falls in ragged breaths as he shifts back to his human form, black hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. Relief crashes over me, so intense that it steals my breath.

“What in the hell were you thinking?” My heart gallops out of control. “You could’ve been killed!”

Hazy with pain, Owen reaches for me. “I couldn’t…” He sucks in a labored breath. “I couldn’t let them take you, Rowe. Not without me by your side. I can’t risk losing you again.”

Tears prick the backs of my eyes, my throat constricting with a tangle of emotions.

“You silly man.” I brush black strands of hair from his face with a trembling hand. “Being arrested won’t keep me from you.”

A ghost of a smile touches Owen’s lips. “Couldn’t risk it.”

Aven’s sharp voice cuts through our moment. “Owen Hartford, you are under arrest for attacking a council witch. ”

My heart sinks as the other witches nod in agreement, their faces set in stone.

Ros steps forward, his tone leaving no room for argument. “As Zane’s leader, I must go with him to ensure he receives a fair trial.”

Aspen joins him. “Rowe is my apprentice, and in lieu of another representative, I will also stand for Esme.”

My head whips around, shocked that he would volunteer to go.

His icy blue eyes meet mine with a fierce protectiveness I never realized he felt. “I trust you. If you say it was self-defense, then that’s what it was.”

Waylon’s hand drops to the wand at his side. “Will you all come quietly? Or do we need to use force?”

Fear churns in my gut as a dozen scenarios play out over what he could mean.

I turn a hard stare on Zane. “We’ll come quietly for the sake of our mates.”

Aven dips his chin. “So be it. We will take you into custody and leave tonight?—”

“No! You can’t take Rowe!” Tris lunges forward, desperation etched across his face. “Not without me!”

My heart breaks at the frenzy in his voice as he pleads with the council witches. “Please, you can’t separate us!” His voice cracks, raw with emotion. “It’s Rowe and Tris for life.”

Aven remains unmoved by Tris’s emotional outburst. “Your request is denied. This matter does not concern you.”

Tris’s hands curl into fists, but Haut catches him before he can pull a foolish stunt like Owen did.

Tris fights against his hold. “No! You can’t break us up! We’re the dream team!”

I ache to comfort him, to wrap my arms around his trembling form and promise everything will be okay. But it would be a promise I can’t keep.

Haut pulls Tris into a hug as he breaks down, while the muscles in Haut’s jaw clench with the effort it takes not to fight what’s happening.

The last time I left Haut, he nearly lost his mind to his wolf. All I can pray is that he’s strong enough now to stop Tris from going crazy.

Owen struggles to sit up, wincing in pain. “Haut, I need you to take care of the town until we return.”

Haut nods once, a moment of unspoken understanding passing between them. Haut will resume his position as Alpha, a role he had refused to take on since Owen won it from him a few months ago .

Gael bends to pluck my wand from my fallen sheath, then gestures for us to start walking.

I help Owen rise unsteadily to his feet and pull his arm over my shoulders, offering what meager support I can as we make our way back toward the house.

As we leave the beach, I cast one last glance over my shoulder.

Tris remains crumpled within Haut’s arms, his sobs carried away by a bitter winter wind. Haut stands tall, a lone sentinel watching our retreat.

For all my brave words, uncertainty weighs down my steps. Will we really be returning to Hartford Cove? Or will this be the last time I see my mates?