4. Ben

4

BEN

I wish the numbness of my fingers dangling the bottle of alcohol would spread to my heart. The night is a reminder that the world still turns, fall is in the air, and winter will follow. The rooftop of a dragon’s home is a surprisingly good place to be alone.

I’m not much one for alcohol, but if there was ever a night to dull my feelings, it’s this one.

And yet, I can’t make myself uncork whatever bottle I snatched from Kalos’s collection.

I don’t deserve the numb.

No one is a fan of mine tonight. Kalos is still furious that I put Katarina and their unborn child in harm’s way even though it saved his life. Katarina is upset with both of us that her best friend had to enter into a political marriage to get the Council to leave us alone and to deal with the Leonid threat.

And Stella…I don’t know what she thinks of me, but she deserved so much better.

She deserved to be courted and to actually know who she was marrying instead of having to deal with the Devil.

I put the bottle on the ground before I drop it.

The sucking sensation in my chest is useless. Stella was never mine. She can make her own decisions.

It’s better this way. What would I do with a mate anyway? It would only serve to distract me from my position. I have responsibilities. Kalos is my family.

Stoneheart is a formidable territory leader. His enemies won’t dare to move against him, and his people are loyal. I’ve kept an eye on his actions over the years. I’d even admired his strategy from time to time…but that didn’t make watching her walk down the aisle any easier.

She and I could hardly hold a civil conversation through most of our acquaintance, but the memory of the moment that changed has sharp edges. Each time I run it through my mind it cuts a little deeper.

But I can’t seem to help myself.

I knock on the door to the room Stella has been staying in while we resolve the situation with the Leonids. Her shop being ransacked made a compelling case to accept our protection. It also allowed her to help in finding where Katarina had run off to after the attack.

I mentally prepare myself until the door swings open. The sight of her is still enough to knock the air from my lungs, but I’m used to that. Stella is gorgeous, but one should pay more attention to her thorns to get through an interaction unscathed.

I’ll never admit to anyone that her prickliness pulls me in almost more than her conventional beauty. Not that I’m immune to that. Her hair is down and flows over her shoulders. The copper highlights make my fingers itch to touch it.

She folds her arms and leans against the door jam. “What do you want?”

I clear my throat to corral my thoughts. I had a purpose for being here.

“I wanted to apologize for being an ass.” I hold out the flowers that look more worse for wear after their journey through the shadows of the in-between.

“What’s this?” she asks but accepts them.

“A gift.” My ears burn, the gesture suddenly seeming beyond ridiculous.

Stella’s lips curves in half question and half a bashfulness I rarely see from her, but when she opens her mouth, her words are exactly the type I expect. “You’re giving me flowers? I know you may fantasize about strangling me, but it’s too early to plan my funeral.”

I cough to stop my laugh. She’s always able to turn things back on me with a jab, and I’d be lying if a part of me didn’t enjoy our banter. Crave it. The shine in her eyes makes me think she enjoys it as much as I do.

The arch of her brow is as sharp as her teasing words.

“I’m sorry,” I start instead of getting pulled into a satisfying exchange of quips. Quips that have lately strayed into the territory of angry sniping more than I wish. “It’s a stressful situation, and I know I’m not helping you feel any better.”

Stella glances down as if uncomfortable with putting words to the actions. As if we didn’t mention it, she could forget the risk to her and her friend’s life.

I continue, trying to distract her from everything and maybe share something about me that would help her understand. “It’s always been my job to create solutions to chaos, and it’s made me…inflexible.”

“A stick-in-the-mud?” Stella teases.

My lips pull into a reluctant grin. “I’m very good at it. The most stable stick-in-the-mud.”

She nods, her gaze taking in the haphazard bouquet. “I know. It’s a good attribute to have. I’m sorry if I’ve been catty about it. I’m just worried about Kat. Thank you for the flowers.”

The truce of our words rests in the air and make me want to linger.

“I saw them, and they seemed fitting. You know, wildflowers.” My cheeks warm as she looks up at me.

The smile of her lush lips is wry. “Are you calling me wild?”

“Utter chaos.” I’m suddenly breathless.

Her cheeks pinken. There’s a beat of silence as the revelation crashes over me like the long-waited crescendo of a song. I’ve always liked verbally sparring with Stella. It’s only now that it occurs to me that it’s much more than that.

“These are called forget-me-nots,” she says softly her expression thoughtful, questioning the tension between us. “I would think that I’m someone you’d want to forget.”

A foreign sensation rises in my throat. Nerves.

“You’d be wrong,” I say.

And then I’d enacted a solution to the Leonid problem. A solution that put Stella as far away from me as she could be.

I don’t deserve to drown my misplaced sorrow or to mark Stella’s wedding with forget-me-nots, but some part of my soul wouldn’t allow me to let her be bound to Stoneheart without knowing that I…grieved for something we hadn’t had the opportunity to explore.

The sensation in my chest tightens, and I gasp, pressing my hand to my heart as it to push it back into place.

This is something different than the emotions I’ve been wrestling with. A hint of floral citrus warms the back of my throat as surely and distinctly as if she were in front of me.

This is magic.

“Ben.”

Her voice in my head is enough to make me scramble to my feet. All my thoughts about distancing myself from her fall away and only leave a certainty.

She needs me.

Her call pulls me through the in-between as surely as if a thread connects us. The shadows between planes that I traverse curl around me as if to usher me forward to the shining light of Stella’s location. Anyone I teleport experiences this as an instant sensation. Only those souls with the ability to navigate through space and shadow can glimpse this world.

I already know where I’m headed to without Stella’s call acting as a beacon, and I don’t care if it creates a political crisis. She needs me.

Even if a certain gargoyle will undoubtedly be displeased by me showing up in their bridal suite.

The pull disappears as the shadows clear around me and reveal a luxurious, if generic, hotel room. My heart races as I take in the room looking for danger.

“You came,” she says.

I frown. “Of course I came. Where is?—”

I cut myself off when I take in her position at the edge of the bed. Stella is wrapped in only a sheet. That would be a distraction alone with the warm tone of her skin showing through the thin material, but the rest of the details jar my thoughts from where they should not go when in front of a married woman.

The usual teasing floral feel of her magic mixes with something darker and unforgiving that must be traces of Stoneheart. My nose isn’t as strong as my demonic senses are to energy, but his scent covers her. The other scents of the room are more delicate: her hunger, blood, and pain.

Her eyes are red as if she’s been crying.

Rage flashes quick, and suddenly I don’t care about skirting around Stoneheart’s ire.

“What did he do?”

Her eyes widen. “Ben?—”

“I’ll kill him myself,” I snarl. Or drop him in Antarctica. I’ve never been, but I can make the trip for this. Even if the political fallout would be catastrophic since he’s Kalos’s ally.

“Kalos will understand,” I say, responding to my own thoughts.

Stella is our responsibility. She was put in this situation for us. Because of me.

“No,” she says, eyes wide.

But the shadows pulse in time to my raging heart. “If he’s hurt you?—”

Stella drops a twisted piece of metal to grab my coat sleeve. “It was consensual.”

That one word, or rather her touch as it slides down my arm to take my hand, collapses the fury that has me sympathizing with the dragon I serve.

“I wanted it.” She nearly chokes on the words, but they are clear enough that I can’t believe any differently.

I look away. The jealousy that stabs me is painful, but I breathe through it. Though I don’t want to stop touching her, I release her hand and shake myself out of my suit coat, wrapping the garment to cover her.

“What do you need?” I ask.

She clears her throat, wrapping a hand to hold the jacket together. “I’m sorry. There wasn’t anyone else I could think to try and summon who would be able to get here without alerting anyone?—”

“I said to call me if you needed anything, and I meant it,” I try to gentle my voice. The strain in Stella’s face speaks volumes. Along with the scents of the room and the wedding dress that will live forever in my memory pooled on the floor, the lace and beading ripped apart.

Bitterness fills my mouth, but I don’t allow myself to reflect on anything other than her statement. Consensual.

Stoneheart and Stella consummated their marriage and enacted a mating just as they should. The bitemark on the crook of her neck is binding.

She didn’t do anything wrong.

He’s the one who is missing.

“I don’t have any supplies,” she says, snapping me from my contemplation. “The clothes that were supposed to be here, the damned towels even, are gone.”

I frown.

“Stoneheart?” I ask, even though that doesn’t jive with what I know about the gargoyle.

She shrugs. “Probably not.”

“Where is he?”

“He left after—” She breaks off and blushes. It’s a breath before she starts again. “Uh, there was an interruption, and he took off afterward.”

An interruption? I must look confused because Stella inhales before explaining.

“The Council had someone interrupt us to ensure that we were…busy.”

I grit my teeth at the nerve of the Council and our damned gargoyle ally. It would have served his purpose to let such a thing happen. I knew he was callous. I didn’t think it would extend to this. Gargoyles are supposed to be protective of mates.

“I can get you supplies, but do you want to stay here?” I ask.

She sighs and stands shuffling with the sheet wrapped around her.

“Honestly, I want to take a shower.”

The willpower it takes for me to not entertain the visual of that with her half-dressed in front of me is shamefully high. I grit past the urge to clearer thoughts.

The wedding makeup tries its best, but it doesn’t disguise her weariness. She’ll be needing to sleep along with that shower, but she can’t trust Stoneheart’s guards. Can she even trust Stoneheart at this point?

“I’m so sorry, Stella.” It slips from me without my meaning to.

Her eyes water for a moment, making them seem bluer. “It’s not your fault.”

But it is. I take a step toward her without meaning to.

The mix of energies and scents on her don’t make me long for her any less.

“I wish this could have been different.” It’s a selfish thing for me to say. Littering her wedding with forget-me-nots is one thing. Saying such a thing now that it’s impossible is another.

“I know…me too.” She takes a step toward me.

It’s been a difficult night. That’s the only reason she’s as close to me as she is. If she hadn’t just been humiliated by the Council and abandoned by her mate, she wouldn’t be looking at me like she is right now.

I step back. Not from self-preservation, though, if I touch her, Stoneheart will undoubtedly take issue, but because she is looking for comfort. It’s something I’d love to give her, but even though Stella’s nature is chaotic, she’s loyal.

She’d regret it if anything happened between us. It doesn’t stop my heart from throbbing.

She shakes her head as if realizing the way her body was swaying toward me. “I’m so sorry?—”

The doors to the balcony break open. We both jump and spin at the sound of metal snapping and glass shattering.

A monster enters from the night. Or rather, an angry gargoyle.

Stoneheart’s gaze burns on me, ignoring his mate in a way that makes my fists clench. The sound emanating from the Devil is vicious, meant to warn me away by the fear it strikes. It’s a type of growl I’ve never even heard from a dragon, but I understand it’s meaning.

It’s a statement that unless I leave, he’ll follow through on my obvious death wish.

But I won’t leave her alone to face him.

And I won’t go down without a fight.