Chapter 32

Chapter

Thirty-Two

Fane inched toward me, his smoldering gaze locked on my lips. "Fiera mika." His voice in my head had shivers running down my spine and heat spilling into my center.

If he kissed me right now, there would be no stopping the desire from consuming us.

Someone cleared his throat. "Sorry to interrupt, but I thought we'd have din-din together." Wrath sauntered into the room, placing a tray of food on the coffee table.

"I hope you like ham, cheese, and bacon subs, but I know you both love lemonade." He chuckled as he set the glasses of lemonade in front of Fane and me.

"I'm not as forgiving as my mother." The heat around Fane had vanished, replaced with an icy fury. "I don't remember my experiences in Heldrok, but I know how bad that place is."

Wrath shrugged as he laid out three plates of food. "I didn't expect you to instantly forgive me." He dragged the puffy chair beside the couch closer to the table and sat. "We used to be friends, though. You, me, and Warin."

"And Ruin." Fane leaned back into the couch cushions, crossing his arms against his chest. "What happened between you guys?"

Wrath dismissively waved his hand. "That's a long story. Maybe another time." He motioned to the food. "Everyone, eat up."

I reached for the sandwich and took a bite. If I didn't eat, my stomach would start screaming at any moment. "How do you know Valeria?" I asked after swallowing.

"We're very close. We had a fling once." He laughed at my expression. "She wasn't always an old woman."

Fane reached for his lemonade. "And she told you who Tate was."

"Valeria was the one who helped Tamara hide Tate. When Barric was out of town a few weeks before the baby was due, Valeria brought in a witch to induce labor and cast a spell to hide Tate from Barric." His blue eyes softened as he studied me. "I'm the one who took you from the compound and dropped you off at a hospital."

I nearly choked on my sandwich, and Fane hit my back. "You?"

"I wanted to raise you in the Underworld myself, but they worried that the magic wouldn't hold if you remained with nightworlders." He sighed and stuffed a piece of bacon back onto his sandwich. "So I reluctantly parted ways with you."

My life would have been entirely different if the high demon had raised me in the Underworld. Would I have called him Dad? That would have made Ruin my uncle.

Gross.

"Did you know who she was in Heldrok?" Fane asked, finally grabbing the sandwich and taking a bite.

Wrath shook his head. "I knew there was something different about her, but I couldn't put my finger on it until Valeria contacted me a few months ago for help. The spell probably muddled my thoughts."

Wrath—or Demarcus—had always looked at me strangely in Heldrok as if he was trying to figure me out.

"So you're doing all of this out of the kindness of your heart?" Fane motioned the sandwich around the room. "You get nothing out of it?"

"I'm a high demon. Of course I get something out of this. That doesn't mean I'm not also doing this because I care about Tate."

"I was a baby. You didn't even know me." If he'd really cared, he wouldn't have left me in a hospital where I'd be tossed into foster care and abused. I would have rather lived in the Underworld with the possibility of Barric discovering the truth.

Fane sensed the dark turn in my mood, and he placed the half-eaten sandwich on his plate, resting his hand on my thigh. "What are you getting out of this?"

Wrath shrugged. "The chance to right a few wrongs and get justice for someone." His jaw clenched, the humor evaporating from him. "I'm not elaborating on it. Just know this person deserves their vengeance."

An icy breeze ruffled my fur as I sat on my haunches in the backyard, the golden sun finally dipping behind the trees and the vibrant winter blue sky fading to gray. It took almost a whole day to overcome my fear of getting stuck in my wolf form before I shifted again.

Changing back still took some concentration—as if my wolf didn't want to leave after being trapped inside me for so long—but it became easier every time. Fane said it would eventually become as easy as breathing.

I wasn't sure about that. The demon shifter made everything look easy. He could fight a dozen sub-demons without breaking a sweat.

Thankfully, the shifting sped up my healing, and my wounds were almost gone. It was nice not to have those little painful reminders of my asshole biological father.

My snout lifted into the air, inhaling the scents of the yard and surrounding forest. I'd spent the whole afternoon traipsing around in my wolf form, getting used to how my muscles moved and senses worked. Fane would need to teach me how to fight like a wolf so I could battle enemies in both forms.

Speaking of enemies, Barric barged into Ruin's house, demanding he turn over Fane and me. Ruin played his part well and finally convinced the head alpha he had no idea where we were. He even allowed Jax to search his home. He also had Nik scrub the security cameras around town, so we weren't seen getting into Wrath's car.

When I was a kid and fantasized about my real parents, a man like Barric sure as hell didn't come to mind. But Tamara? The way the older members of the pack spoke of her painted a picture of a sweet, kindhearted, and maybe a little rebellious soul. While in foster care, I dreamed of someone like her busting into the house and stealing me away.

She obviously loved me if she'd planned my escape well before I was born, going against her fated mate. Tamara had to have known it would result in her death if Barric found out. And that was exactly what happened.

Before we escaped, I should have snatched a picture of her from the compound. Did I really look like her? We had the same smattering of freckles on our noses, but her eyes were green while mine were hazel. Would my hair have become the same shade as hers without the spell?

My life would have been so different if she could have escaped with me. I would have been cherished and loved. I would have been happy.

I reached up to wipe the moisture from my cheeks but instead of a hand, a black-and-red paw hovered over my face. With a huff, my paw fell back to the grass, and I allowed the tears to fall and disappear into my fur.

Spinning around, I trotted toward the back door Kesa left cracked so I could get inside. While I was exploring the forest earlier, Fane found me, his demon wolf slinking through the trees like a beast out of a nightmare. He kept his distance until I settled near a pond as exhaustion swept over me.

Fane had sat down beside me, his massive body pouring warmth into me like a fire. I couldn't stop from snuggling into him and falling asleep for a little bit. When I woke up, he was still there, looking out at the water with a pensive stare. He didn't say anything as he finally got up and trotted away.

I stepped into the warm house, engulfed in scents of cinnamon, nutmeg, and apples. Either Kesa had cooked dessert, or she was concocting some kind of potpourri. She loved crafting.

Crystal chandeliers dangled from high ceilings, decorative wallpaper met glossy wainscoting, and original hardwood floors stretched beneath decorative rugs. Even the curtains framing the large windows had that old-world feel. One of those gramophone things and a harp were in the music room.

After climbing the stairs, a tug in my center pulled me to the left, and I followed the bond's command. It wasn't leading me to Fane—I felt him outside—so this was something it wanted me to see.

I stopped at a door at the end of a hall, the faint hint of paint drifting up my nose from the ajar door. Inside, a few easels, some empty and some with painted canvas, stood on white drop cloths spotted with a rainbow of colors.

Fane's mom had set up an art room for him.

One of the paintings caught my attention, and all the air syphoned from my lungs. I had to blink to make sure I wasn't hallucinating.

Two people were locked in an embrace beneath a full moon, surrounded by forest. Even though their faces were hidden as they buried them in each other, the tattoos on the man's arms and the red hair gave them away.

Fane had painted us together. And this wasn't a fabricated scene from his imagination but a memory he wasn't supposed to have. I even wore the same shirt from that night, one of his.

After fighting those agrigons and demons in Mohan Wilds and nearly dying, Fane had taken me outside during the full moon to shift to heal my injuries. The painful fail had caused me to pass out in his arms. When I came to, he shared the details about his first shift and how he'd hurt his mother, giving her those scars on her face.

We'd held each other for a long time, offering comfort people like us usually refused.

Hope unfurled in my chest as I lifted my fingers toward the canvas. Was he remembering? Was the spell breaking?

"You just can't help yourself, can you, Teague?"

I jumped at the sound of Fane's gruff, angry voice and whipped around as he stood behind me, glaring.

"Fane, I, uh…" I huffed and tried to shrug, but it translated as a jerky head movement in my wolf form. "I just stumbled onto this place."

He folded his arms. "You just happened to find my studio at the very end of one of the many halls? "

"Yeah."

"You're unbelievable," he muttered as he stormed to the painting, his teeth grinding. "Now that you've snooped around, you can leave."

"Are you remembering?"

"No."

The answer came too quickly, and his shoulders tensed beneath the gray t-shirt.

"You are. That's us, and that actually happened."

He scoffed. "I just made it up. Stop looking for things that aren't there."

I took a deep breath and focused on pushing my wolf aside and returning to my human form. Tingles radiated over my body, and after a few moments, I stood on my two legs in front of the painting. And totally naked.

Even though Fane had seen me in the buff a few times since Kaspin's spell, I still tried to cover myself. "Can I get that blanket or something?" I squeaked, pointing to the throw on the tan leather couch a few feet away.

Heat spilled into Fane's eyes as he slowly perused my flesh, the air sparking and filling with tension. And arousal. He wanted me so much he could barely stand it.

Fane's jaw snapped, his teeth clicking together, and he finally tore his gaze away. "Maybe you shouldn't wander around the house in your wolf form if you're not prepared to be naked." Instead of giving me the blanket, he shucked his shirt and tossed it to me.

I snatched it out of the air and shoved it over my head, choking back the moan I wanted to release at being wrapped in his scent. His warmth still clung to the material. "You're getting your memories back." My hope to break the spell had died when Kaspin did, but maybe Venna and Mykel had been lying. Could the enchantment still be broken without the ancient witch? "Just admit it."

A low growl built in Fane's chest, and he stormed toward me, forcing me to stumble back. "Stop trying to make me into someone I'm not. I don't remember that guy, and I don't remember what we had. I'll never be that guy."

I shoved him as a wave of hurt pummeled my insides. "Too bad because you are him, Maverick. Maybe once you accept it, you'll be able to remember more."

"I don't want to remember!" He closed the distance between us, the tips of his boots touching my toes as he towered over me. "I don't want all of those memories of me saving my brother's killer, of falling for her."

The room blurred from my unshed tears. "Too bad. Those memories might surface no matter how much you pretend to hate me. And I'm not going anywhere. You're the one who's determined to protect me, and we both know it's not so you can be the one to kill me. You've already admitted that you don't want that."

"You're suffocating me," he yelled. "Every time you look at me, I can see you searching for the person I used to be. Do you have any idea of how much pressure that puts on me? I'm not him. I can't be him for you."

His words were daggers to my heart, tearing gashes in the delicate flesh. I wasn't trying to pressure him. Part of me knew he wanted to push me away because he refused to deal with his feelings.

"I'm not searching for anyone when I look at you, Fane." I brushed away a stray tear that had escaped. "I don't need to. You're him, memories or not. Even when you shut me out, even when you say things to hurt me, underneath all that anger, you're still him. "

"Or maybe you're just pretending the guy you see is the one you lost."

He was so damn stubborn.

"We weren't perfect together. We fought and bickered." A bitter laugh slipped out. "Sometimes we let our fears turn us against each other, and sometimes our differences became too much. But in the end, none of that mattered because we couldn't change what was in here." My hand rested against the center of his bare chest, his heart beating wildly. "That won't ever go away."

I pivoted and marched toward the door, needing to get out before I had a complete breakdown. Fane probably already felt my emotions. He knew his words had cut deeply even while I pretended to be as tough as steel.

As I pulled the door open, a hand slammed it shut, a fiery body brushing against mine.