Chapter 18 Eighteen
Orin's POV
I saw the world fall into madness and did something I wouldn’t have believed an hour ago.
“We didn’t bring Thanos here,” I said desperately to Theron, step-ping forward even if the Lycan’s suspicion was obvious. “This is not in our program.
Kieran joined me beside him, his usual frostiness thawing enough to reveal real worry. "We came for the girl. Not to declare war on shifters.”
The golden heraldry banner with the phoenix flapped in the breeze of newly-stoked fires. Beneath it, I could see the shifter army flowing across the southern border. Hundreds of them, maybe thousands. More orchestrated than any rogue attack I had seen.
This was an all out invasion.
Theron's silver eyes assessed Rhea and then us. I could see him working through options, weighing trust.
"If you care about her being alive," thorted Theron with such decisive authority, "then come fight at our side. Now."
It wasn't a request. It was an order from a Lycan who had lived through millenniums of war.
I should have declined for principle. We were here to get back our runaway bride, not join forces with our enemy. But it was now undeniable and insistent in my chest.
The mate bond to Rhea, tugging at something down deep in me I didn’t even realize I had.
I glanced at Kieran. My twin’s face was as blank as ever, but I knew him better than anyone. He felt it too. The bond. The connection. Being filled with the insatiable urge to keep her safe.
We fight together," Kieran said, flat as final. "For now."
Theron extended his hand. I hesitated for just a second and then I took it. He held my hand in a bone-crushing way that reminded me of how strong he was.
"Lilith," Theron spoke to the female Lycan. You with us or you against us?
She glanced back and forth, her amber eyes moving from Theron to the oncoming shifter army. Finally, she nodded. "I did not survive three centuries to be killed by Thanos' spawn"
"Then move," Theron commanded. "All of you. They will strike against the southern wall first.”
The world turned to blood and fire and death.
I had seen a dozen were fought. Conquered eight packs with Kieran. Directed an empire by force and guile. But standing side by side with the famous Lycan Theron was a whole new ballgame.
This man was a force of nature.
He cut through shifters like they were nothing, claws rending flesh and bone with savage ease. His strength flowed outward from him and even the bravest of warriors cowered.
I found myself side by side with him, holding the mansion's western flank while the shifters continued to throw themselves at us.
“You love her,” I whispered in between my strikes, my sword singing through the chest of a shifter. "Rhea."
Theron didn't answer immediately. He had a mid-leap grab on a shifter and threw him into three others with bone breaking force.
“You focus on not dying,” he eventually replied.
But his was answer to answer enough.
I had never felt attachment outside my brother. Kieran and I had been born together, raised together, fought side by side. He was the only person I’d ever loved.
Women were temporary pleasures. Great for politics or as a stew partner, but never quite close enough to actually root for.
But watching Rhea a moment ago, to see her stand against Lilith's bullying and with your mate bond flare up in me like lightning in my blood….it made something snap inside me.
I was truly, for the first time in my life, fighting for something greater than territory or conquest.
I was fighting for a woman who had glared at me with disgust right before our not-wedding. Who’d been American and run away rather than marry me.
And for some reason, I wanted to fight harder.
"On your left," Theron growled.
I turned, my sword slashing a shifter that had come in too close. We were driven back, step by step, toward the mansion.
Cassian swooped in behind us, the ice of his dormant alpha power shining in every step. “They are attempting to penetrate the eastern wing. Where Rhea is."
Theron's expression turned murderous. "Fall back. Protect the mansion."
We hacked our ways through them, leaving corpses behind us. The great hall of the mansion was a battle scene, with furniture overturned, tapestries on fire.
That's when I saw her.
Rhea, flanked by five shifter soldiers.
I wanted to burst in, a hero from a story, and pull her free. But then she moved.
Silver fire burst from her fingers, intense enough that I squinted. She didn't cower or run. She fought.
She was awkward but powerful in her motions. Somebody had been coaching her lately. The Lycan, probably. She leapt below an overhead shifter’s claws and rammed her sword of pure silver fire through his chest.
The shifter screamed and fell.
Another came charging at her from behind. She whirled, fie swirling about her and snatched him out of the air. He slammed into the wall, which shattered like stone.
I was paralyzed, watching this woman who’s supposed to be a meek political pawn emerge as something fierce and lethal.
When the last shifter dropped, Rhea glanced up. Her gaze met mine down the bloodied hall.
The zing of the mate bond sparked from between us, stronger than ever. Not the kind of sense it really is, either. Not just “I can only articulate the truth opaquely now that I’m so far removed from it,” but actual connection. I could sense her fatigue, her terror, and her resolve.
It was overwhelming.
I went over to her, stepping over the bodies. I tried to summon the charm I usually feel, my practiced ease around women.
“You’ve been hiding from us,” I said. But my voice felt rougher than it should have, and it didn’t have its normal sleek shine.
Rhea didn't smile. Didn't soften. "What is the meaning of your being here, Orin?"
"Saving your life, apparently."
"I was doing fine on my own."
She was right. She'd taken on five shifters on her own. But admitting that felt strange.
“The mate bond,” I said, giving up pretending. "You feel it too."
It wasn't a question. I could read the truth in her face.
Rhea glanced away and I read the struggle in her blue eyes. "I don't want this. Any of this. I don’t want to be walking around with four guys I barely know.”
"Nor do I," I confessed, the naked truth a shock even to my own self.
I’d spent my whole life avoiding commitment. Sleeping with women, but never letting them into my heart. Keeping everything light and temporary and safe.
“I don’t think I have ever desired a mate,” I went on, approaching. “Never meant to belong to anyone. Never wanted to own someone.”
Rhea met my eyes. “Then we’re alike then.”
"But here we are." I made a sweeping motion between the two of us,the bond that was humming in the air . “The moon goddess has a sense of humor.”
Rhea's lips quirked slightly. Almost a smile. "A twisted one."
Before I could answer, before I could even think about what to say to this woman who may have been my destiny, a cacophony of something groaning washed through the hall.
We both looked up.
The ceiling, damaged by fire and war, was crumbling. Splitting. About to cave in.
I didn't think. Never thought about odds or consequences.
I leapt over Rhea and covered her body with my own as the roof caved in.
Stone and timber crashed down. Pain shot through my back, my ribs. A heavy object carried me in the head and I saw blurry.
But Rhea was alive beneath me. I could feel her hand clinking on my shirt, hear her breath.
my last image before darkness claimed me was odd.
The thought of dying to save her didn't feel like sacrifice at all.