Chapter 11

Larkin

Ifelt like I was in a fever dream, in and out of reality. I could see flashes of light, hear bursts of sound, and feel something warm and wet move across my brow.

I tried to inhale deeply, take in the scents around me that would help me decipher what was going on and where I was. And for a second, panic swelled in me, because things were too conflicted all around me.

But then… then I smelled a scent that instantly calmed me. Odhran.

I wanted to call out to him, but my tongue felt too thick, my throat too tight. Trying to form words seemed too difficult.

I could smell antiseptic, a fire burning nearby, and something else, something that tingled my senses and tried to pull on my memories. I could sense anguish in the air, a heavy cloak of worry. From my mate. I couldn't make out any words, but I could hear him speaking, the deep, low sound of his voice a comfort I found in this painful, confusing time.

I wanted to say his name. I wanted to ask him what was wrong. I wanted to ask him if everything worked out… why I hurt so much.

I heard more of his low rumble of words, his deep, soothing voice speaking in his native tongue. And although I hadn't spent more than a moment in time with him so long ago, I'd be able to recognize his voice anywhere.

I couldn't understand him, his Gaelic words soft, the inflection gentle, as if he was telling me everything would be okay.

"Odhran," I finally said, forcing that one word past my too-dry lips and raw throat. A second later, I felt something press against my lips, then cool liquid slid into my mouth and down my throat.

"Easy, lass," he crooned when I swallowed too much and coughed. I felt the heavy weight of his hand rest against my cheek. I opened my mouth to speak, but he hummed low. "Just rest. Just heal. I will no' let anything hurt ye."

I took another sip of water, coughed again, water slipping out the corner of my mouth. He was there instantly, drying it up. I wanted to open my eyes fully, to see him, but they felt so heavy. Too heavy. My entire body did, as if a lead blanket covered me. I would have been panicking if I wasn't too weak and tired.

He started speaking in Gaelic again, and it was those words, that deep rumble from my mate, that had me drifting back to sleep.

When I woke up again, I had the strange sense that a long time had passed. I remembered bits and pieces, things that felt like a dream, not quite reality. But maybe they were. I opened my eyes, and it took long moments for my vision to adjust and clear.

I stared up at a ceiling, the rustic construction of it showing whitewashed beams that ran parallel to the floor. The coloring of the beams reminded me of the driftwood I used to collect at the beach for my father.

I didn't move right away, just took note of my surroundings, of my body.

I licked my dry lips, swallowed against my parched throat, and felt as if my side was on fire, as if somebody had taken a knife and sliced me open.

I shifted on the bed slightly and instantly hissed out as the searing pain encompassed me. I froze and closed my eyes, just breathing through it. I'd dealt with pain plenty of times. I could handle this.

I was in a bed, one that was soft. The blankets smelled faintly of lavender, but it was the artificial kind. I sifted through the rest of the scents and picked up the one that had me squeezing my eyes shut with a pang of homesickness.

Saudade.

I smelled salt water.

A lock of my hair hung over my shoulder, and I turned my head toward it and inhaled deeply. The strands smelled like the ocean. Gods, it had been so long since I smelled the sea.

When I opened my eyes, I realized I was smiling. And crying. I looked around the room as much as I could without moving my body and feeling that pain again.

The room was darkened by the night, a swatch of moonlight peeking out from between the partially closed curtains. There was a dresser to one side and a door right beside that. Across from that was another door.

Memories of what happened—escaping the facility, Odhran and I running, and then the point when we broke free, when I glanced at the entrance only to see D standing there with a gun pointed right at me. It all played through my mind like a reel.

There had been pain. And then there was nothing.

One of the doors opened, and I looked over to watch Odhran coming in with a glass of water in his hand. He froze when he saw me, his nostrils flaring and his free hand going to his chest. Right over his heart.

"Don't move, darlin'."

My pulse picked up at the sound of his voice so clear, his Scottish accent thickly laced through the words.

He came over to me and set the glass of water on the little table beside the bed. "Ye're wounded verra badly, Larkin." His big body was shrouded in shadows, but the scent of the sea mixed with his wild aroma hung around him. It was the most glorious fragrance I'd ever taken into my body.

He gingerly sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress creaking softly from his substantial weight. And when he took my hand in his, I felt my throat tighten for reasons other than thirst.

"Is this real?" I asked. "I'm not dreaming?" I blinked back my tears, because I was afraid this was all a fantasy, one of the many dreams I had when I'd first been captured.

I remembered waking up, gasping out, clutching at the air, crying out for Odhran, my family… for freedom.

Odhran lifted a hand and gently smoothed his fingers over my forehead, pushing the locks away along the side of my face. "Aye, sweetheart. It's real, and ye're safe."

I found myself leaning into his touch, and although the room was dark, my vision still hazy from the pain, I could see the way his lips curled as he smiled.

"How much do ye remember?"

I gave myself a few seconds to focus on his question before answering. "I remember everything up until I was shot." My heart started racing as I thought about D. As if Odhran knew where my thoughts were headed, a deep rumbling noise came from the center of his chest, and he shook his head slowly.

"No worries. That bastard has been handled and is never going tae hurt ye again." He said that last part on a growl, his eyes briefly flashing blue before he garnered his control. "I wanted tae drag out his death, make it slow, painful." He glanced off as if thinking of all the things he wanted to do. "But ye were injured. I had tae get ye out of there and tae safety."

I licked my lips. It didn't matter how much or how little D suffered. He was dead, and that was all I cared about.

"What about the facility?" My voice was rough from days of not using it, my throat feeling raw. My words caught on the last part as memories of my time within the clutches of the Assembly played through my mind. Gods, am I really free? Truly? "What about the Assem—" I couldn't even finish saying the name out loud.

"Shhh." Odhran kept trailing his fingers along my forehead and temple. "Everything is fine."

It took me a second to respond, waiting until I made sure the horrors of the past didn't make my voice shake. "What about Sebastian? He said he would handle it, ruin them. Did he succeed? Did he make it out okay?"

Odhran smiled and leaned in to press his lips to my forehead. I heard him inhale deeply before he pulled back.

"Sebastian and the rest of the Otherworlders he freed destroyed the facility. And last I heard—every human in it."

I felt something burn in my chest. It wasn't fear, wasn't anxiety. It was something close to hope, a painful pleasure. Although I knew it was foolish to think anything could end that evil entity. I knew, despite this one facility being taken down, it wasn't going to stop the whole organization. I was sure they had places planted all over the world.

"They'll never stop being a reality, at least not for the foreseeable future. They've been around far too long and have deep roots," Odhran finally said. "But I heard from my king, who spoke with Adryan, the leader of the American Vampire Clan, that convoys have already started moving out all across the world from both the vampires and the Lycans, as well as allies of many Otherworld factions. It's the age in which the Otherworld hunts down the Assembly."

"But Sebastian—he's okay?" I repeated. He saved my life, and the worry that he didn't make it out after risking everything for me and others made me anxious to know he was fine.

Odhran was silent for a long while, too long, and I felt dread in my belly.

"He didn't make it out." I didn't phrase it like a question.

"I donna know, lass. After we escaped and I was able tae get in contact with Banner, my king, I found out no one has heard from the vampire, no' even Adryan, his leader and cousin. We donna know if he's alive or dead."

I wasn't sure what to say, didn't know how to respond.

"But," Odhran said, and I held my breath, "I donna think Sebastian is dead. The fooker…" He cleared his throat. "Sorry for the crass language, sweetheart."

A burst of laughter left me. After everything we'd been through, swear words were the least offensive thing.

"The vampire is resilient, unbelievably strong, and lacks a moral compass or emotions. He'll probably outlive all of us."

I felt a wave of relief fill me and nodded.

For long seconds, we just sat there in silence, and then Odhran groaned. "Ah, my girl. I'll never believe ye're really here with me, that I finally have ye back after all this time." He leaned down and kissed me on the forehead once more, one hand cupping my cheek, the sound of him inhaling my scent filling my head. "I know what will make ye feel better."

He was up and heading toward the window before I could ask him what was going on. And once he slid it open and I felt the breeze move into the room, surrounding me, a smile formed on my lips.

I smelled the salt in the air and heard the waves rushing against the shore. We were close to the ocean. Very close.

I focused on Odhran. "How long ago was it…?" My throat seized as I tried to get the words through. But I didn't need to emphasize what I meant. He knew. Just like he seemed to know all my thoughts, not because I was too expressive, but because we were undeniably linked.

He was back to the bed and sitting beside me a moment later. I felt his hand engulf mine, and for long moments, we sat there, the scent of ocean air and the sound of the waves rushing through the window filling the room.

"After ye were shot and I took out the threat, I panicked. I dinna know where tae take ye, because I dinna know where we were." He scrubbed his free hand over his face.

I realized he had shaved since I'd been unconscious. Gone was the thick beard, and in its place was scruff that made him even more attractive to me.

"Where are we?"

"Ireland." He smoothed a hand over my head, and I winced, even the strands painful. "I'm sorry, sweetheart." The low rumble of his voice and the worry laced within it had me instantly feeling guilty for showing any kind of pain in front of him. I knew it had to hurt him, being my mate.

"I'm okay. You'd think after all the wounds I've gotten I'd be used to…" My words trailed off when I saw the way his jaw clenched, watched his eyes glow blue, and heard the deadly growl that left him. "I'm okay," I reiterated and gave him a smile I hoped was convincing."The facility was in Ireland?" I changed the subject.

He closed his eyes and breathed out through his nose. After long seconds, he finally looked at me again, seeming to be more in control."Aye. I could no' travel with ye injured, but we are far enough away that we're safe. Verra far, darlin'. After, I assessed yer wound and thanked the gods the bullet passed cleanly through. But still, I had no medical supplies and no one tae ask for help." He stared at the open window. "But we were close tae the ocean. I could smell it, so I did the only thing I could think of." He faced me once more. "I took ye tae the water and prayed it would help until I could figure out the next step."

We both sat in silence for long moments, but it wasn't tense or forced; it was a kind of quiet where someone could think, could reflect on everything. It was very clear by the tenseness of Odhran's body he was thinking about things we both probably preferred he didn't.

"I stayed in small inns for only a day at a time before moving on, keeping close tae the coast so I could get ye in the water tae heal." He scrubbed a hand over his dark-blond hair, messing up the short strands and making him seem almost boyish in appearance. "Once I got in contact with Banner and could access my accounts and funds, acquired supplies tae take care of ye, I found this cottage, and we've been holed up here for days, allowing ye time tae rest and get better."

"Thank you," I whispered, and there was this hardness to his expression that startled me.

"Ye shouldn't thank me. I failed—" He cleared his throat. "I failed ye. I'll never forgive myself. I'll never forgive myself for letting them take ye, for all the horrible things they did tae ye." He exhaled, and I shook my head. "I can never forgive myself, but I can spend the rest of my life atoning, and can show ye that I am a male of worth for my mate."

I didn't realize I was crying until I felt fat tears sliding down my cheeks. He brushed them away with the pad of his thumb and then brought it to his mouth to lick my sorrow.

"It's not your fault. It's not anyone's fault but theirs." Of course, I knew my words fell on deaf ears. He'd been beating himself up this entire time. Nothing I said or did would convince him otherwise. So I would just need to show him that I wasn't broken and would be able to have a happy life with him, with myself.

I glanced down at my side, seeing the brand I'd gotten while with the Assembly, where this new pain had settled most intensely. I used my free hand to lift the shirt I wore, one that I just realized smelled of Odhran and swallowed me whole because it was his.

When my side was revealed, I spied the old mark that I remembered getting vividly. I gingerly tried to pull off the bandage.

"Here, let me." His voice was gruff, and I glanced at him to see he stared at the crescent and starburst insignia of the Assembly burned into my flesh. His eyes flashed blue, his jaw was locked tight, and he flared his nostrils as he breathed harshly.

He closed his eyes a second, and when he opened them again, I could see he was more in control. His touch soft as he pulled off the tape and gauze to reveal the bullet wound.

I stared at the circular healing wound, and a little laugh welled out of me.

"Lass?" There was clear confusion and concern in his voice.

"For something that hurts so much, I can't believe how small it is." When I was met with silence, I looked at Odhran. He had a confused expression on his face before finally his lips curved into a smile.

"My sweet, soft-hearted girl can find humor in darkness." His voice was deep and tight, but his smile was still in place.

If I died right now, with the ocean air filling the room, the sound of the waves lulling me into a sense of well-being, and the feel of my mate so close, his touch so solidifying and right, I would die contently.

He adjusted the bandage, pulled my shirt back down, and covered me with the blanket. It had been so long since I had the healing properties of natural bodies of water, and I knew I'd been starved for it. I'd yearned for it. And although the water was healing, it wasn't a miracle, wasn't laced in magic. There was still pain, still weakness. I'd most definitely be scarred. But I'd be alive, and that was all that mattered.

"Ye've been in and out of it for a few days. I managed tae get some broth intae ye while ye were conscious enough tae swallow, made sure yer wound was clean, took ye out of the dirty clothes and slipped my shirt on ye." He glanced away quickly, and I watched as his throat bobbed when he swallowed. "If ye're worried that I was inappropriate?—"

"—never." I waited until he glanced at me before continuing. "I know you're honorable, a gentleman." It was my turn to squeeze his hand. "I know you'd never do anything to hurt me."

He cleared his throat again and, dare I say… looked sheepish. I laughed softly.

"I love that sound," he said, and my laughter faded off at the clear heat in his voice. "Nothing sounds as sweet as yer voice."

Oh my heart.

"What next? What happens when I'm healed and we don't have to be here?"

"I'll take ye tae yer family home but, lass?—"

"I know," I said, cutting him off. "I know they aren't there any longer. I can feel it in my heart, have for years. But I still want to go."

He nodded, a fierce look on his face. "After that, we'll journey tae Scotland."

"What's in Scotland?"

His eyes flashed blue, but I wasn't afraid. I felt protected and safe, knowing his inner animal wouldn't let anything hurt me. I could see it in his face, smell it in the air, and knew he'd rather die than feel like he betrayed me.

I stared at his face, saw the jagged scar he sported, remembered how he got it so long ago, how he'd fought so bravely and determinedly.

"Home, darlin'. Home is what's in Scotland."