Chapter 27

Chapter

Twenty-Seven

No Freak Outs: Keeping Your Cool During Berserker Bedlam

Hint: Buy Chocolate

From A Beginner's Guide to Berserker Bliss

Author Unknown

H inges squeaked, and I cast my gaze to the door. I tried not to smile. Knew he'd return. I was ready for him.

Throwing my legs over the mattress, I sat up just as Callen entered the room. Only a few hours had passed since he'd left. Enough time for me to style the space to my liking and forge a plan.

He'd changed into a button down and slacks. I wore the clotheshe'd provided for me. A too big T-shirt and sweatpants. Not glamorous, but cozy and very me.

In one hand, he held a stack of books. His gaze remained locked on me as he strolled over and set those books on my brand-new coffee table. Strain etched every inch of him. "Study these."

Yes, please, and thank you. Because knowledge. But show him mercy? No. "Do any of them tell me how to get rid of your mark?" I asked with my sassiest tone.

A beat of silence stretched before he grated, "It isn't my mark. I made a mistake. You and Tavish did something. A trick." His gaze pursued me, his irises heating, making me wonder…

I batted my lashes. "Is the mark getting brighter?"

Callen scowled and motioned to the books. "Until it wears off, you'll learn the proper way to interact with a sentinel king. It might save your life. If I decide to keep you locked away so that you cannot share our secrets with the world."

I snorted, stealthily reaching for the length of chain I'd hidden under my pillow. What had he called it? Rasensteel? Whatever the name, he shouldn't have left it behind.

"Learn the proper way to deal with a king," I mocked, inching the chain behind my back. "That's not happening." As a distraction, and okay, yes, to be contrary, I kicked the books off the table. Guilt instantly filled me. I'd just mistreated precious tomes, the magical device able to transport you anywhere in the world, in any time period, to experience a completely different reality.

He worked his jaw but eased onto the velvet settee. His dark hair was disheveled, his shirt wrinkled. Rolling up his wrist cuffs, he announced, "I moved Mirren and Gavina to an undisclosed location."

"Smart. Sorcha is a killer ready to endanger her own child to gain control of you and our people."

A muscle jumped beneath his eye. "That I allowed you to get so close to her—" His hands balled into fists.

"Closer than you're willing to admit. But I only ever helped Mirren."

He glowered. Again, no ring twisting. "You offered me a kiss. I accept." He crooked his finger at me. "Come here."

My eyes widened. "What about dishonoring yourself?"

"I'll learn to live with the guilt."

That didn't sound like him, and I wasn't sure what to think. At least I knew what to do. My heart raced as I stood, careful to keep the chain hidden. Exaggerating the roll of my hips, I sauntered over.

His nostrils flared. As soon as I reached striking distance, I acted, lunging to lock a shackle on his wrist, then my own. Triumph flooded me.

"Now that that's done," he said with a dry tone.

Wait. "You let me do that?"

"Obviously." He wound the metal links around his hand and yanked me closer.

Uh-oh. I'd bound myself to trouble. "I'm not kissing you," I informed him. "That was a onetime offer." What are you doing? Accept, accept! But I didn't. I couldn't. "You don't get to kiss me while denying who I am to you. If you want anything from me, you'll admit I'm your Elle and the woman masquerading as Isobel is Sorcha."

He sat before me for a long while, doing his smoldering thing. I didn't look away from him, didn't back down. Finally, he unlocked the chain from us both, stood, and stomped from the room. Another point Elle.

Over the next two days, he returned again and again. Always bearing fresh cuts and bruises, as if coming straight from battle. With Tavish?

I asked him the same question each time. "Is Isobel acting strange?"

He never failed to reply. "She isn't up for discussion. "

He didn't request another kiss, and I didn't offer. He always left soon after he arrived, as if he only needed, or wanted, to see me and know I was okay.

In my spare time, I searched for a way out of the room and read the books he'd given me. A treasure trove of information about the immortal world. What I learned helped me cobble together a plan.

On the third morning, the door burst open as I ran my palms over the wall, searching for a secret passage.

"Tell me about yourself," Callen demanded. He stalked to the makeshift wet bar he'd stocked last night, proving he trusted me not to turn the bottles into weapons, then plopped into the recliner near the settee, a glass of iced whiskey in hand. "If I'm to judge you for your insides, I should know more about you, Miss Elizabeth Darcy, special education teacher from Oklahoma City, Oklahoma."

I'd bet he'd ordered a highly detailed background check on me. "I'll answer your questions if you answer mine," I said, continuing my search for the door unabashed. "But for my generosity, I expect two facts to start."

A slight incline of his head. "Ask."

"You know the first. Is fake Isobel acting strange?"

He took a gulp of his drink, as if he required fortification. "Like you, she remains locked up until I render a verdict. She…isn't happy."

Seriously? He'd believed me enough to take steps against her? That was big. Huge! I glided to the settee and eased down before him. "Second question. Why are you always injured?"

He pursed his lips. "Tavish claims you are his woman, and he wants you back. His wolves attack often."

So the war raged on. "He's lying and eager to kill your true fated," I said, hooking a stray lock behind my ear. As Callen glowered, I added, "Your turn. What do you want to know?"

"Tell me one of your favorite memories as a child." He practically spit the words at me, as if each one contained a piece of his resentment.

I double-blinked at him, surprised. Okay. Not what I'd expected. But sure, I could roll. Bonus: I didn't need to think too hard about my reply.

Tucking my feet behind my backside, I told him, "One Sunday morning after church, there was a potluck luncheon. I helped my mom make her special black bean and sour cream tamales. What we didn't know at the time was that I'd mistaken the measurement of salt. By a lot."

A smile bloomed as I remembered the rest. "Everyone but my dad threw their tamale away. He choked his down and went back for seconds as if he'd never tasted anything better." Familiar grief slashed at me, but it lacked the same sting. "He's been gone for years, but I still miss him."

"You loved him," Callen stated.

"I did, and I do with all my heart." I barely stopped myself from reaching for my husband. Hmm. Him and not my coin ring, now that the precious treasure was back in my possession?

"Your turn," he prompted.

Right. "The man who brought you up." Since he'd lost both of his parents on the same night, his mother to death and his father to the curse of the wolf. "Did you love him?"

"I respected him. How could I not? He became king in my father's stead. He was a good man who raised me as an equal."

"Yet you later challenged and killed him, becoming king yourself."

"No. He died in battle, killed by Tavish. A tournament took place, and I won. I was twenty-three at the time." Callen got more comfortable, stretching his muscular arms over the back of the settee. "Have you ever fallen in love?"

Well now. Time to get personal, it seemed. "Yes."

He swirled the ice in his glass. "That's all I get? Shall I keep my answers as succinct?"

Guess I was doing this. Making my declaration. "I fell in love…then the guy locked me up."

His spine straightened as realization dawned. "You love me?"

"Maybe loved, past tense," I grumbled. Probably not, but let him make of that what he would.

When his pupils spilled over his irises, I had to cut off a moan. Sexy man!

With slow, measured movements, he set his glass on the floor. His gaze held mine captive. "I want you," he stated bluntly. "I want you more than I've ever wanted anything."

My jaw dropped. Um… Can't process. I didn't know what to say, my thoughts fragmenting before they had a chance to fully form, replaced by two words. Want you.

WANT YOU.

Nothing could stop the tide of longing that swept through me. "Do you believe me? Will you forsake Sorcha?—"

"Isobel," he corrected with a growl.

Nope. Not gonna support the lie. "Will you forsake fake Isobel to be with me?"

"And if I do?"

"That isn't an answer," I said, exasperated.

The muscle under his eye started jumping again, keeping time with my erratic pulse. "If she were who you say she is, she's also Mirren's mother. "

"And you feel you must protect her." A statement not a question, leaving me both despondent and sympathetic. "You still love her."

He nodded. "I cared for her, but my affections never went deeper." The cords in his neck pulled tight. "I let her die once. I couldn't allow such a travesty to taint Mirren's life a second time."

Yes, I despised Sorcha for all she'd done to me, Callen and his people. But. I did like that this amazing male shielded his daughter. It made me fall in love with him all over again.

"None of it matters anyway," he snarled. "Admitting you are soul switched is a death sentence for you both. Word of the possibility is out now. There's no hiding it and sparing you from an inquiry."

"You are king. Change the law."

"Such a change requires the approval of all ten kings. That feat has not occurred in centuries."

"So you won't even try?" I pushed a little harder. "You were willing to help my fictional friend, but you refuse to take a chance for me?"

"I. Already. Tried," he grated. "I received a unanimous rejection."

Oh. I couldn't ask him to run away with me. His people needed him. "How do you feel about the Isobel you've been married to these last few days now?"

He pursed his lips again.

"That bad, huh?" I winced, as if I felt sorry for him. "All the feelings you've experienced since the wedding are for me. I reciprocate. But I won't let you abdicate, and I won't be with you in half measure." I'd tasted a full commitment with him, and I could settle for nothing less. "If you want me, you'll have to do something to keep me. "

He scrubbed a hand over his face. I opened my mouth to push further, but he stood. Conversation over, then. Got it.

"Proceed with caution, Callen." I balled my hands as he strode to the door. "I grow tired of playing sexy warden and innocent prisoner. Every day that you snub the truth, your downfall draws closer. Soon I will escape. I refuse to wait around for Sorcha or Tavish to orchestrate my death."

Callen paused in front of the door, his spine ramrod straight. "Isobel has demanded a trial by kings to prove she isn't soul switched and you seek only to orchestrate her death."

Ugh. She'd stolen my plan! To demand a proceeding against her . From the history books, I'd learned a trial forced a judgment for any supposed crimes committed by a royal or their closest associates. I'd hoped to work up a solid offense and defense first.

"When is my hearing to take place?" I asked.

He inhaled slowly but deeply. "Tomorrow morning."

So soon? Dread unfurled, its sharp edges shredding what remained of my good humor. What, had he come in here to warn me of my coming guilty verdict? Hadn't wanted me getting my hopes up and expecting too much?

There were just so many accusations she could launch at me. So many ways to "prove" I'd done this or that. Because I had—while she inhabited my body. Logically, her arguments made all kinds of sense. Therefore, I wouldn't be able to rely on head knowledge. I'd have to go deeper and force the judges to accept heart knowledge.

Would my husband be one of them?

"Callen," I breathed out before he walked away for good.

He gripped the sides of the door, his knuckles quickly turning white. "Aye. "

A tide of longing spiked, nearly swallowing me whole. Words evaporated before I could speak them. I surged forward.

He must have sensed my purpose, because he spun on his heel and caught me. As we slung our arms around each other, he bent his head and pressed his lips into mine. Our tongues thrust together in a tangle of need, hunger and...hope?

He hauled me against his chest, cradling me against his powerful body. We clung to each other. Kissing wildly. Desperate. Every thought faded to the background. A whimper escaped when he tenderly cupped my jaw with his calloused palms. His unbreakable strength guarded the tenderest of hearts. But…

In the back of my mind, I couldn't stop thoughts from forming. While this act should have sealed our connection, offering a blend of longing and release, it merely illustrated the sacrifices we'd soon be forced to make.

With a rough noise, Callen broke away. He panted as he rested his forehead against mine. I choked on a sob. These too brief stolen moments might be all I ever got.

All too soon, he lifted his head. Flames danced in his irises. Determination and sorrow stamped his features. His mask had been totally stripped away, strain and torment aging him a thousand years.

He lowered his lips to my ear and whispered, "I will forget to lock the door when I leave. At midnight, every sentry, including your guards, will be preoccupied with trouble that accompanies Prince Jamie on his visit. His car will be parked in the drive, the trunk empty. When he leaves, he'll go to the airport on an assignment for me. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

I licked my lips, tasting him and trying not to crumple. He was breaking berserker law and letting me go. Telling me goodbye. If I stayed, I would be put to death. If I left, I must live without him.

"I understand," I croaked.

He hesitated only a moment longer before spinning on his heel and exiting. The door closed behind him, but the lock never turned.