Chapter 26

Chapter

Twenty-Six

BEN

The water turned still and silent as the minutes passed. No bubbles, no sign of Connor fighting to reach the surface.

His mate was drowning.

Ben couldn't let it happen. He jabbed his elbow into his captor's ribs, then delivered an uppercut to the jaw that would have made Seamus crow in delight. The wolf staggered back, and Ben punched him in the throat before sweeping his legs out from under him.

Vaughn blocked Ben's path to the grotto and clapped his hands sardonically. "Someone's been teaching you tricks."

"You fucking bastard! " Ben screamed, eyes stinging as he raised his fists.

"Tut, tut, sprite, I promise you don't want to jump in there. All sorts of dead things to keep your mate company." Vaughn mirrored Ben's steps when he tried to get past him to the pond. The alpha waved off the wolves crowding close to grab Ben, clearly wanting to take Ben himself. "Just calm down. You should accept your fate."

"Yeah, like you have?" Ben sneered. He looked the alpha up and down. "You got so mad when I called you weak."

"I won't take disrespect, sprite. Life will be easier when you obey me."

Ben spat at Vaughn's feet. For an alpha so feared by the shifter community, Vaughn was rather pathetic. In his forties with muscles bulging across his arms and chest, Vaughn really should have a century or two of comfortable living ahead. But beyond the black eyes and outward strength, there was a sallowness to his skin. An air of desperation clung to him.

"What's your problem, Vaughn? You stink of fear." Ben sneered. "The powder you drink to change your luck is your poison, isn't it?"

What sweet irony that would be.

Vaughn roared and charged. Ben knocked away the first blow with an insulting slap, then ducked in close for three rapid hits to the alpha's guts before jumping away again. Connor and his enforcers taught him to be quick. And he needed to be, now more than ever, with Connor drowning with every passing second.

Luck be on my side , he begged as Vaughn tried to grab him. Ben skidded under the attack and went for Vaughn's spleen. The alpha tripped, clutching his side.

Then the way to the pond became clear.

"Stop him!" Vaughn roared.

Ben didn't hesitate. He launched himself into the grotto, every part of him screaming to reach Connor.

The water burned exactly as he remembered, searing his skin as if someone had dropped a new barrel of vileness into the grotto. The water carried the memory of what happened, filling his ears with shrieks and whimpers of agony.

He kicked deeper, arms out searching for Connor in the foulness.

Echoes surrounded him, filled with so much sorrow and pain. It wanted to take hold and settle into his lungs, but Ben refused to share the fate of his parents and kin.

I make my own luck , he thought furiously.

Determination blazed through him as he swam deeper. He was done with being hunted. Done with accepting that anyone else could control his luck. It was his, damn it, and he would decide who fortune favored.

Including me , he thought. Luck was his to wield, misfortune his to inflict on anyone who touched his family.

The shrieks and moans fell away, replaced by something approving. Something ancient and calculating that had waited over a decade for a kinsman driven to decide their own fate. It swept against Ben, nudging him on a different path in the water.

Ben trusted the water to guide him, silently wishing his clan peace as they fell away.

The current twirled, and Ben's hand brushed against fabric. He grabbed firm, kicking to get close, finding muscled arms and the face he knew so well. The arms closed about him as Connor kicked them towards the surface.

My one and only beloved…

Ben blindly grabbed his wolf's face with both hands, pressed their lips together, and breathed. He breathed into Connor like it was the last breath he'd ever take, like they were in pure water, like he heard his ancestors singing with approval. The exchanging of breath was the most intimate gift between a sprite and their beloved. He gave Connor everything, the water flowing past them as Connor brought them closer to the surface.

The last echo of emptiness in Ben's soul fell away as Connor breathed back into him.

They broke the surface locked in a kiss.

The vile water didn't matter. The growling wolves on the edge of the grotto didn't matter. Only Connor, alive and well and his tongue in Ben's mouth.

Ben reluctantly drew back. He felt the power in his voice when he said, "Vaughn's dead."

"I'll follow your lead, love," Connor rumbled.

"Damn right you will."

Connor's approving grin turned wolfish.