Chapter 106 Public Domain

Chapter 106 Public Domain
The world was white.

For a moment, I was blinded by the sudden, aggressive glare of the tactical floodlights that had snapped on around the perimeter of the estate. 

The drone hovered ten feet from my face, its camera lens a black, unblinking eye beaming my image to millions of screens across the country.

My arms were still raised. My bruises were exposed. My violet eyes flared with the magic I had kept hidden for so long.

"I am here!" I repeated, my voice cracking with strain but carrying over the wind. "I am Evelyn Hellboud. And I am not a hostage. I am a witness!"

For three agonizing seconds, nothing happened.

The police officers at the gate shifted nervously, hands hovering over their holsters. The crowd of protestors fell silent, their chants dying in their throats as they stared at the woman they had been told was a helpless victim.

Then, the estate groaned.

It was a deep, mechanical sound, vibrating through the soles of my feet.

Hummmmm.

Behind me, the foyer chandelier flickered and blazed to life. The porch lights snapped on. The deafening silence of the dead house was replaced by the beautiful, rhythmic thrum of the central HVAC system kicking back in.

And from the library, the makeshift infirmary, I heard the sound that mattered most.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The ventilators. The heart monitors. The refrigeration units.

He had blinked.

Kane had turned the power back on.

My knees gave out. I didn't fall, because Abel was there. He had moved so fast I hadn't even seen him. 

One moment I was standing alone in the spotlight; the next, his arm was a band of steel around my waist, pulling me back into the shadows of the doorway.

"Get inside," Abel snarled, though his voice was thick with an emotion I couldn't place.

He kicked the heavy front doors shut, severing the connection with the drone, the police, and the world outside.

The sudden quiet of the hallway was jarring. We stood there, breathing heavy, the adrenaline crashing through our systems like a drug.

"You reckless, foolish, brilliant woman," Abel whispered.

He grabbed my face in both hands, tilting my head back. His silver eyes were wild, his pupils blown wide. He looked at me as if he wanted to shake me and worship me at the same time.

"He could have shot you," Abel said, his thumb tracing the pulse in my throat. "He could have ordered the police to breach."

"He couldn't," I said, my voice trembling now that the moment had passed. 

"Not with the cameras rolling. He needs me to be the victim, Abel. If the police shoot a 'mentally ill' woman who is surrendering, the narrative breaks. He had to save me to save his lie."

"You forced his hand," Abel murmured, leaning his forehead against mine. "You checkmated him in front of the whole world."

"Did it work?" I asked, gripping his wrists. "The infirmary?"

"Listen," Abel said.

I listened. Down the hall, I could hear the steady mechanical rhythm of the life support systems. I heard Dr. Vance shouting orders, but they weren't shouts of panic anymore. They were shouts of relief.

"We have power," Abel confirmed. "The vents are running. The medicine is cooling. You saved them, Evie. You saved them all."

The weight of it hit me then. The terror of the last hour, the image of the dying wolves, the darkness, the cold voice of Kane on the phone, it all came rushing back. I buried my face in Abel’s chest and sobbed.

"I thought they were going to die," I cried. "I thought I killed them."

"Shhh," Abel soothed, scooping me up into his arms effortlessly. "I’ve got you."

He carried me past the office, past the chaos of the library where the nurses were stabilizing the patients, and up the grand staircase.

"Where are we going?" I sniffled.

"Away," Abel said. 

"The blockade is still outside. The accounts are still frozen. But for tonight... we have a ceasefire. And I need to get you out of this war zone before I lose my mind."

He carried me into the master bedroom and kicked the door shut. He didn't turn on the lights. The glow from the restored security lamps outside filtered through the curtains, casting the room in a soft, amber haze.

He set me down on the edge of the bed, but he didn't step back. He stood between my knees, his hands resting on my thighs, his eyes locking onto mine.

The bond, the tether Freya had helped us visualize, was no longer a lake. It was a tidal wave.

I could feel him. I could feel the sheer, overwhelming terror he had felt when I stepped out onto that porch. I could feel the pride that burned like a sun in his chest. But mostly, I could feel the hunger.

It was a raw, primitive need to claim. To prove that I was here. To prove that I was alive.

"You scared the life out of me," Abel admitted, his voice rough. He reached out and touched the bruise on my arm, the one I had shown the cameras. 

"I wanted to kill everyone out there. I wanted to tear the world apart for looking at you."

"I’m okay," I whispered, leaning into his touch.

"You’re not okay," he corrected. "You’re trembling."

"I’m not trembling because I’m scared, Abel," I said softly.

He froze. His gaze dropped to my lips, then back to my eyes. The air in the room grew heavy, charged with the static electricity of two magical cores vibrating in sync.

"We shouldn't," Abel said, though his hands tightened on my thighs, pulling me closer. 

"You’re exhausted. We’re in the middle of a siege."

"I don't care," I said. I reached up and hooked my fingers into the collar of his tactical shirt. 

"The world might end tomorrow, Abel. Kane might find a way to drag me out of here. The Council might burn this house down."

I pulled him down until his lips were an inch from mine.

"I don't want to die without knowing what this feels like," I whispered. "I don't want to be a 'what if'."

Abel groaned, a low, guttural sound that vibrated against my chest. The last of his restraint shattered.

"Evie," he breathed.

Then he kissed me.

It wasn't gentle. It was an explosion. It was the crash of two stars colliding. His mouth was hot, demanding, tasting of desperation and peach nectar.

We fell back onto the mattress, a tangle of limbs and frantic hands. There was no finesse. 

We tore at each other’s clothes, needing skin-on-skin contact to quiet the roaring in our blood.

When he finally pushed into me, the world didn't just tilt; it vanished.

A gasp tore from my throat, but it wasn't pain. It was completion. The bond in my mind flared white-hot. I didn't just feel my own pleasure; I felt his. I felt the shock of it ripple through his nervous system, mirroring mine.

"Mine," he growled against my ear, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of my neck. "You are mine, Evelyn. No contract, no curse, no Council can change that."

"Yours," I sobbed, wrapping my legs around him, pulling him deeper. "I’m yours."

We moved together in the amber dark, driven by the rhythm of the bond. It was a reclaiming. With every touch, every kiss, every thrust, we were rewriting the history of my body. We were scrubbing away the memory of the cage, the memory of the cold cage, and replacing it with fire.

As the climax hit us, simultaneously, a blinding flash of white light that arched our backs and stole the breath from our lungs, I felt something shift deep inside my core.

It was a subtle snap. A locking of a door.

I didn't know it then. I was too lost in the afterglow, too wrapped up in the feeling of Abel collapsing against me, his heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.

But in that moment, in the safety of the dark, something new had sparked to life. A secret. A tether that not even Kane Hellboud could sever.

Abel rolled to his side, pulling me tight against his chest. He buried his face in my hair, his breathing slowly evening out.

"I love you," he whispered into the darkness.

"I love you," I answered, my eyes heavy.

We slept. And for the first time in my life, I didn't dream of monsters. I dreamed of a wolf, standing guard over a cradle in the snow.