Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

N o, I was right about coming here. I storm after Atticus inside, but he's nowhere to be seen. I rush through the bar and out onto the sidewalk, scanning the dark, empty streets, hoping to find him, but he's gone, vanished as if he were never here at all.

Someone grabs my arm and hauls me back in. My watcher.

"Are you nuts? You could be seen!" He hauls me to the bar and shoves me down on a barstool.

My mind is reeling. I know it was him. My father. Why is he denying it? He can see it. I know he can. My emotions are ablaze, and I struggle to contain them. The whole missing-and-now-found father issue, combined with the delicious blue drinks, is messing with my head. Gods above, why am I feeling like this?

"I take it that didn't go so well, then?" he asks, his tone genuine.

I shake my head and almost fall off the barstool. "I need another one."

He leans in closer to me, and his dark and spicy scent is far too appealing. I look up at him and then down at his full lips.

"What's your name?" I ask.

His eyes search mine before he answers. "Grazen. What's yours?"

"Zarla." There's something so alluring about this big, strong, stubborn male.

"You shouldn't look at me like that," he warns under his breath and backs up a little.

I tap my glass, signalling to the barman. "Another drink, please?"

The barman nods and makes us two more, and I finish mine quickly and then order another. The door dings again, and a group of males file through, followed by more, and soon the bar is full of them. Huge males, all dressed in black leathers, and covered in markings.

"This isn't going to go down well," the barman warns Grazen.

The magical blue liquid is doing its thing, helping to numb my emotions and sending a blanket of warmth buzzing over my skin. It's so good.

"I call this…a happy drink," I say with a giggle, cupping Grazen's cheek. "It's the same colour as your eyes."

Whispers from the other males in the bar indicate that they've noticed me, and they're chatting amongst themselves as they eye me.

"Another one, please?" I ask the barman.

There's a thump, and a big, stocky male sits down on the stool next to me. "Don't see females like you around here often…"

Grazen glares at him. "Leave. Now."

The male raises his hands and backs off. But it's not long before another one sits down in his place.

Grazen leans in close and whispers in my ear, his warm breath tickling my neck. "We need to get you out of here."

"No! I'm having fun. For once. Another, please!" I call out before finishing the one I still have.

I wobble on my barstool, almost falling off again, and the male next to me grabs me around my waist and pulls me into his lap.

"That's better," he says in my ear, and I elbow him in his stomach.

"Let go of me!" I yell.

Grazen grabs my arm and pulls me off him. "Fuck off," he warns the other male. "We're leaving. Now."

"All right, then, big guy." I giggle.

He scoops me into his arms and tries to carry me out of the bar, but several males step in front of him, blocking his way.

"I don't think she wants to leave yet," one of them says.

I can't help but laugh, and Grazen glares down at me. I stop, pretending to zip my mouth shut.

"I don't give a fuck what you think. Move. Now," he orders.

They don't, and Grazen sets me down and positions me behind him. Then he cracks his head to the side, clicking his thick neck, and then charges at the males. He tackles two of them down to the floor before jumping up and punching the third one in the face.

Gods above, he's strong. Who the hell is this male?

The other two watchers attempt to fight him, but it's pointless. He punches each of them only once, knocking them down for good before grabbing me around the tops of my legs and hauling me over his shoulder.

"We're leaving. Now." He then storms out of the bar, releases wings, and lifts off into the sky.

I stare at the beautiful glowing symbols covering his wings, the last thing I remember before I black out.

I blink my eyes open and immediately sit up. I'm in a large room, with pale floor-length curtains drawn over a window, and I'm in a huge bed with dark sheets.

Where the hell am I? I leap out of the bed and find I'm wearing nothing but a baggy black T-shirt. My daggers are nowhere to be seen. I search for them, lifting random papers covering various surfaces around the room, and then check under the bed.

"Looking for these?"

I jump at the male's voice and get to my feet. It's him. The male from last night. Grazen. Holding my daggers.

"Those are mine." I grit my teeth and build my powers, ready to use them if needed.

He smirks and slips them into the holsters on his waistband. His gaze traces me from head to toe, and I fold my arms to cover myself up. Epic fail.

"I won't hurt you," he says in an amused tone, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Don't you think I would have by now if I were going to? You've been sleeping here all night, unharmed."

Okay, he has a point. I tug on the bottom of the T-shirt, willing it to grow in length. Which, of course, it won't.

"Suits you." He says, stifling a laugh.

"Why did you undress me?" I ask. "And where the hell am I?"

He leans against the doorway. "First, you're welcome. Second, you were sick, so I took your dirty clothes off to wash them and dressed you in my T-shirt. And to answer your last question, you're at my place. Obviously."

Cocky bastard. "I need some pants."

He chuckles under his breath, pushes off from the doorway, and crosses the room toward me. I back up until I can't go any farther, and he stops a few inches from me, his eyes locked on mine. He reaches around, opens a drawer to pull out a pair of pants, and hands them to me.

"You're welcome to try these, but something tells me they won't fit." He looks me up and down before leaving the room, and he closes the door, finally giving me some privacy.

I hold the pants out, which are enormous. Gods above, these aren't going to fit. I try them anyway, and they fall down, so I give up. The T-shirt is long enough, reaching down to just above my knees, so it'll have to do.

I open the door and find him sitting at the end of a long, black table, and I immediately smell the food he has prepared. He gestures to the seat next to him, so I pad over and sit down. The food looks and smells delicious—fried bacon and other vegetables I haven't seen before—and I tuck right in. It's incredible.

Glancing around, I notice how nice his place is. The room is bright with white walls and light wood floors, with a large open-plan style kitchen, dining, and living room. It's not where I would picture a watcher to live. Least of all this one.

"There's juice here or coffee. Which do you prefer?" he asks.

I swallow my mouthful and lick my lips. "Coffee, please."

He pours me some, and the first sip immediately reminds me of Kyle. Gods above, I miss him. He's probably worried sick about me.

"Better than those ‘happy drinks' from last night?" he asks with a smirk before taking a sip of his coffee.

I laugh. "No, probably not. But still good. Thank you. For all this."

"You're welcome." Shaking his head, he takes a bite of his food, then points his fork at me. "You are a worry. You could've gotten us killed last night."

I move the food around my plate with my fork. "Sorry about that. I didn't expect to see Atticus, or for him to lie about being my father."

I pick up my mug and hold it in both hands, enjoying the warmth.

"Maybe it's not a lie," he suggests. "You warm enough?"

I set my mug down and stretch my arms above my head. "I'm fine, thanks. And it is a lie. I know he's my father."

He scratches his chin and studies me.

"What?" I ask, adjusting my T-shirt and suddenly feeling self-conscious.

He shrugs. "Nothing. It's just… It's nice being around a female for a change. I could get used to it."

This male never ceases to surprise me. I didn't realise watchers could be so kind and have so much depth. The only one I have really spent any length of time with is Zalore. And he's not the best example to go by.

I smile at Grazen and take the last bite of my food before carrying my plate into the kitchen and rinsing it off.

"You don't have to clean up," he says, clearing the table and bringing the dishes into the kitchen. "Sit down, please."

"It's not a problem," I tell him but take a seat again at the table. "I should probably make my way back to Silanthia. There will be many who are worried about me."

He leans back against the edge of the kitchen bench, bracing himself with his hands, and I can tell he has more to say.

"What is it?" I prompt.

He runs his hands down his face. "This could get me killed."

Rising, I move toward the kitchen and stop before him, giving his forearm a squeeze. "You can trust me."

His focus drops to my hand. "Okay, then. There's something you should know."

I should step away from him, but I feel he needs some cajoling, so I don't. "All right, then."

He shuffles from one foot to the other and then refocuses his gaze on mine. "Zalore is working with Amaros."

I frown, removing my hand from his arm, and take a step back. "How do you know that?"

"Because a good mate of mine works closely as one of Zalore's guards, and he heard them discussing things of concern."

I tilt my head, considering his words. "What was of concern?"

His expression shifts, and I can see the heavy toll this information has had on him in his weary face. Gods above, what is it?

"They've opened both the Realm of Lost Souls and the Spirit Realm. Taking angel spirts from the Spirit Realm and dragging them through portals into the Realm of Lost Souls to turn them into lost ones. Then sending them back through portals into the Kingdoms and down to Earth. That's where the lost ones are coming from. They're somehow controlling them, using them for something, but he wasn't sure what.

"He thought he heard them mention one of the weapons of the gods, so that could explain how they're doing it. They're planning to kill the King of Zarquon and his son, too. He's a powerful god, that one, and Zalore and Amaros know it and see him as a threat."

I gasp, covering my mouth. He's talking about Kyle and his father.

Grazen pushes off from the bench and moves closer to me. "I take it you know them?"

I nod. "Yeah, I do. Kyle is…my fated mate. At least I think he is anyway."

There's a flicker of emotion in his eyes. Jealousy maybe. But it's gone before I can be sure.

He raises his brows. "Wow. That's deep."

He leaves the kitchen and sits down on a leather sofa in the living room.

I stay in the kitchen, unsure of what to do. Twirling my hair around my finger, I wait for him to say something else.

He finally glances over his shoulder at me. "Come sit."

I join him on the sofa but keep a good distance between us. When I finally look at him, I find him watching me.

"Okay, you're making me nervous," I tell him.

He chuckles then moves his arm to rest along the back of the sofa. "Sorry. I don't mean to. The last time I had a female here, it didn't end well."

Okay, that doesn't sound good at all. Did he harm her?

He shakes his hands out. "It's not what you're thinking. I did nothing to her. But some other watchers found out she was here, and while I was out one night on patrol, they broke in… When I got back, it was too late. There was nothing I could do. She was already dead."

I cover my mouth as terrible images come to mind. "Gods above, I'm so sorry."

He bites his bottom lip and looks away, and I can see the battle raging inside of him as those memories plague his mind. His eyes glisten in the light. Is he crying?

Without further thought, I shuffle across the sofa and wrap my arms around him, resting my head against his chest.

He tenses beneath my touch before returning the hug, but he eventually relaxes. "I'm so sorry you went through something so awful."

He doesn't say a word, and when I pull back, he cups my face.

Oh no.

He leans in to kiss me, but I move back so fast I fall right off the sofa onto my back, knocking my head against the coffee table.

Shoot. Real smooth, Zarla.

He leaps forward to help me up. "Fuck, I'm sorry."

I hold my hand out to let him know I'm okay as I get to my feet. "Honestly, it's fine."

He rakes his hands down his face and turns away from me. "I read the situation wrong."

Gods above, poor male. "It's fine, honestly. I'm sorry. I just felt you needed comforting."

He wipes his eyes, and when he finally faces me again, he's composed but a little flushed. It's cute, I must admit. Gosh, never thought I'd be describing a watcher as cute.

"As just friends," he states with a smirk. "That male of yours is one lucky bastard. I'll give him that."

I chuckle and hug him once more. "I like you. You're one of the good ones."

He rubs my back. "Yeah, I know. Thank fuck I found you before anyone else did. We're not very common."

I try not to think too hard on that, knowing what most males here are like and how they seem to treat females. If I wasn't with Kyle, I would happily stay here with Grazen. He definitely makes me feel safe. I'll have to keep an eye out for a female who could be worthy of him.

"Thank you," I say, glancing up at him. "You're pretty special. I appreciate all your help."

He gently nudges my arm. "You're not bad yourself. For a female."

I roll my eyes. "So where exactly are my leathers, and are they dry? I really should get back."

He crosses the room and grabs them off a drying rack hanging from the ceiling in the corner I hadn't even noticed, and he hands them to me. Thankfully, they are dry. I smile at him then take them back into the room to get changed. I throw his T-shirt back over the top, deciding it wouldn't hurt to keep it, and then tie my cloak around my neck.

When I step out into the living area, he hands me my daggers. "Can't forget these. I know what they are, by the way. Never thought I'd hold them in my hands."

I strap them to my thighs. "Yeah, they're very special. They were my mother's, but it was wise to take them from me. I probably would have stabbed you."

He arches a brow at me then picks up his leather jacket from the back of one of the dining chairs and slips it on. "I don't doubt it. Come on. I'll get you back safely."

He opens the door, and I follow him outside, thankful to find the sun already making its descent. It helps to blend in when it's darker.

He takes my hand and tugs me through the streets while I keep my head down. In less than twenty minutes, we're at the familiar large gate on the outskirts of the city. We pass through it and continue on toward the mountain.

"I wish you could stay," he breathes, a note of sadness in his voice.

I glance up at the large, handsome, stubborn, yet incredibly sweet male. A part of me wishes I could stay, too. But there's only one male for me, and I know he'll be incredibly worried. I need to get back to Silanthia, and I just hope no one noticed I was gone. Especially Amaros. Maybe Finlay covered for me somehow.

"I've really enjoyed spending time with you," I tell him, and I mean it.

He glances down at me just before we get to the base of the mountain. "So have I."

Silence passes between us for the next few minutes as we head up the mountainside, his large hand clutching mine the entire time.

"Why is Zalore like that with females?" I ask to break the silence.

His full lips press firmly together in a line. "I cannot begin to understand why that male is the way he is. I don't know if there is an explanation for it. Some are just born cruel, and others are made that way, molded into it throughout childhood and beyond. I do not know which one it is for Zalore."

I swallow hard. "He has my sister."

His gaze shifts to mine as his lips part. "Zarla, why didn't you say something?"

I avert my gaze, kicking a rock across the path as we continue to climb the mountain. We're not too far from the top now.

I shrug. "I don't know. There's nothing you could have done about it."

He lets out a long breath. "He's an evil male, and without trying to frighten you, I fear for any female within his presence."

"I'm going to get her back."

He stops walking, pulling me to a halt along with him. "Zarla, you cannot attempt to rescue her. You can't put your life on the line like that, no matter who it's for."

I bite my bottom lip and look away from him, knowing he's right, but knowing I don't have a choice either way. He will kill her if he has her much longer.

"I have to. She…" I swallow hard before I can continue. "She wasn't in a good way the last time I was here."

He tilts his head to the side, frowning as he takes a step closer. "The last time you were here?"

"It probably wasn't the best idea, but I had to come. And he's been hurting her."

He pinches the bridge of his nose. "I understand your need to save your sister, but please promise me you won't do anything reckless? You've seen how brutal that male is. You do not want to get on his bad side. Ever."

I nod, unsure whether I want to voice that promise aloud, knowing I am going to break it. No matter what, I will save my sister from that monster.

Seeming satisfied with my response, he tugs my hand, and we carry on up the mountain.

A short while later, we reach the top, and I immediately spot the gateway glowing gently in the dark surroundings. He releases my hand, and I wander over to the gateway with him following close behind me.

When I face him again, I can see the longing in his gaze as he stares into the gateway.

"You want to leave, don't you?"

He rubs his chin. "Yes and no. I'm under the King's command, so I cannot leave, even if I wanted to. I'm one of his top soldiers. He wouldn't allow it, and he'd kill me if I did."

I take his hand, which is almost twice the size as mine, and run my thumb over his rough skin. "That's unfair. You shouldn't be kept here against your will, as some kind of prisoner. You are your own male. You do not belong to anyone."

He gives me a sad smile then leans down and gently kisses me on my cheek. "If only that were true. Now go. I wouldn't want any of your friends to come looking for you here."

Gods above, he has a point, and I wouldn't put it past Finlay either. I give him one last hug. I'm really going to miss this male.

"Thanks again for everything. I kept your T-shirt. I hope you don't mind." My cheeks flush a little, and I'm glad it's dark, as he probably won't notice it.

His eyes brighten. "I'm glad you did. It suits you better than me."

I laugh then step toward the gateway. I glance back at him one last time, and he stares at me, his eyes sad, and it hurts knowing he is so lonely.

"Goodbye, Grazen."

"Goodbye, beautiful Zarla."

I picture Silanthia and pass through the gateway, praying to the gods Amaros hasn't noticed my absence, but knowing damn well he will have. Scenarios play out in my mind of what he'll do to me if he finds out I've been gone, and each one strangles my heart even tighter.

This is going to be bad.