Unwanted Fates~ Book Two
Chapter 4

“It’s for you.”

Rowan’s words said one thing, but his eyes said another: don’t fuck it up. Sylvie took the phone in her trembling hands, avoiding touching her captor’s tattooed fingers and holding it to her ear.

“Hello?”

Banging and slamming poured down the line before a familiar soft voice. “Princess?”

Sylvie blinked back the tears, turning away from Rowan’s scrutiny.

“Yeah.”

“Are you hurt?”

She shivered, remembering Jace’s torture but didn’t want him to snatch her one chance to talk to her mates away. “I’m okay. How did you know where I was?”

“Elias compelled Natalie.”

Tears dribbled down her cheeks as she remembered the betrayal.

“Is she dead?”

“No,” Kian said softly. “She was fired.”

That eased her nerves a little. Natalie only wanted to be turned. Surely, the reason was important to her. She didn’t deserve to die.

“I’m still thinking about it,” Elias’ irate voice echoed through the phone. A rush of love for both men made her heart thump.

“We’re looking for the Artefact for the shifters,” Kian said then. “We’ve been following it for some time, but the Fae that guards it is a realm walker and is difficult to track. They can’t stay in any place too long, or the Hybrids will find them, but we’re anticipating it will reappear within the next eight hours in one of our secured portal sites.”

“I don’t know what that means, Kian.” Sylvie wiped her eyes and took a few tentative steps away from Rowan, but Jace barred her movements with an arm. She looked from his arm to his face and squinted, surprised he wasn’t latched onto her bicep like he had been all morning.

“Once you get it, then what happens?”

She peeked over her shoulder at Rowan, his golden eyes flashing through the dark scowl.

“A trade,” Rowan answered for Kian, baring his teeth. “Your bosses know we will tear them apart if they step foot on shifter lands. But your new house will be the perfect neutral ground,” he sneered again, shaking his head.

Elias’ roar hurt Sylvie’s heart; she just wanted to tell him she loved him and that everything would be okay. But the look Rowan drilled into her stopped all words. If he knew her ‘bosses’ were her mates, he would probably kill her.

He looked like he wanted to kill her regardless.

“Thank you for being good guardians,” she said softly, hoping the shake in her voice would convince Rowan while simultaneously cluing her mates in about her lies to him.

“Of course,” Kian replied smoothly. God, he was perfect.

“Though Elias isn’t coping well with his failure to protect you. As your guardian.”

She nodded. “Tell him it’s not his fault, and I’m sorry for not telling him about the meeting. If I had, this never would have happened.”

The device was wrenched from her grip and smashed in Rowan’s hands before she could hear Kian’s reply. Jace’s fist twisted in disgust while Rowan stared hard at her tear-tracked cheeks.

“What’s wrong with you, woman?

“What do you care?” she replied, sniffling and crossing her arms across her chest.

His face twisted as if he tasted lemon, and his eyes flashed. “You’re right. I don’t care. Get out of my sight, damn vampire.”

She scoffed and backed up a few steps. “Fuck you.” If Jace took her back into the cells, she would be in for another beating soon after. She might not see the outside again until Kian and Elias found the artefact.

Panic blossomed in her chest like a raging fire. She couldn’t let him imprison her; she had to escape. Both Jace and Rowan stared at her just out of arms reach. She rocked from foot to foot, staring over Rowan’s shoulder, widening her eyes as if spotting something.

Rowan’s eyes narrowed, and he spun, Jace’s head following the movement, giving Sylvie an opening. She turned on the ball on her foot and ran full pelt at the nearest tree. Much thinner than the ones she had previously melded with, she prayed it would accept her as she opened her arms.

Rowan’s growl and Jace’s demonic huffs almost froze her to the spot, the rumbling bass tripping her feet slightly as she threw herself at the tree, squeezing her arms around it, eyes shut. The sensation of falling into bliss took hold, and she grinned.

She did it.

She was safe inside.

But when her eyes opened, and she spun inside the golden-sapped trunk, huge paws slammed against her, the roots tethering her to the ground, moaning and tearing from the earth.

A giant brown bear, huffing and growling, threw its full weight against her trunk repeatedly. Then, crying from pain and grief, the tree cast her out, dropping her at the bear’s feet only to be dragged by a familiar tattooed hand straight towards the cells.

The touch of his skin against hers sent a buzz along her arm to her chest. Her mate’s markings ached.

“No! I can’t go back in there! Stop it, you fucking bastard!”

Cracking and painful vocalisations came from behind her, and she twisted, spotting a naked Jace by her half-uprooted tree. Guilt gripped her as Rowan dragged her away. Would the tree live after Jace's treatment? She had a sinking feeling it would die because of her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered to it, clawing at the dirt with her free hand.

Rowan flipped her on her back and pinned her arms at her sides. Before she could kick him in the balls, a pair of hands clasped her ankles together.

“Stop!” she howled, straining against their combined vice grips.

“Tell me the truth.” Rowan bared his teeth, hovering just inches above her. He sniffed deeply and growled. “I couldn’t smell it before in the cells, but you’re a dryad, aren’t you.”

“You don’t know anything about me!”

“Oh, but I do,” he growled. “And I can’t let you near my people.”

“Then take me back!” she screamed, eyes scrunching against the flood of tears. His grip didn’t waver, but his breathing changed. “Take me back to my m- to my fucking guardians and be done with it. I hate you!”

Her chest burned as she struggled, the touch from Rowan stealing away her thoughts.

“Go to the pack house, Jace.” Without a word, the grip around her ankles disappeared, and footsteps receded towards the gravel path.

Rowan stood, keeping his hands on her wrists and pulling her to her feet.

“Why?” he demanded, dropping her hands and running them through his hair.

“Why what?”

She peeked behind him, looking for Jace, but the surrounding woods were silent.

“Why are you so desperate to get back?” A flash of hurt crossed his eyes so quickly she thought she had imagined it.

Her face twisted, and she released an aggravated breath. “None of your fucking business.”

He reached for her then, stepping into her punching range, and she swung as hard as she could, wincing as her knuckles cracked against his jaw. Time froze as he blinked down at the ground.

She didn’t dare move; her body wouldn’t let her. She didn’t even know why she did it; her impulsivity had gone haywire. He spat some blood, his red-stained teeth pulling into a smile as he licked across them.

Her hand dripped at her side, and each knuckle probably split.

“Your vampire nature wants to destroy me, but your Fae side feels the bond. Doesn’t it?”

She shook her head. “I feel nothing for you but hate. I hate you.” Her marks sizzled, and she tugged on her shirt to reduce the friction.

He took another step towards her, and she swung again, this time with the opposite fist. Clearly baiting her, he caught it, but her push kick to his hardened stomach took him by surprise. He winced slightly before straightening, rolling his head side to side and cracking his neck.

Lowering his stance, Rowan raised his hands beside his face, palms facing her. Not letting surprise take hold, she mirrored him, bringing every memory of her training to the forefront of her mind. He was big, strong, and fast, but he was no vampire.

His fist shot towards her face, and she ducked, the punch sailing past her shoulder, just grazing her ear. She circled him, watching his agile movements.

Again his fist came at her, but she jumped back, creating space between them. His smirk set her face aflame as he ran at her, jabbing and kicking her outer guard hard enough to hurt but not bruise.

“What are you doing?” she growled, kicking him back with full power. The grunt he made as her foot collided with his side both thrilled her and filled her with guilt. What the fuck?

He darted forward, grabbing her hands and spinning her against him, her back pressing the length of his front.

Squeezing her arms at her sides, he inhaled against her neck. She shivered, fighting the urge to bare her throat before dropping her head forward and throwing it back into his nose, eliciting a sharp crack. His grip loosened, and she fell, crawling away as blood dotted her back from his crooked nose.

“Fuck you,” he growled, still smirking before using his forefinger and thumb to click his nose back into place.

“Fuck you, too.” She sprinted to the left for a thicker tree, but the weight of a truck slammed into her back, knocking the wind from her lungs and pinning her again to the moist dirt.

A heavy weight settled on her back, locking her arms to her sides before a warm caress of breath tickled the hairs over her cheek. Just like in the elevator, he was sitting on her. He curled his warm hand around her throat, arching her neck back slightly before pressing his lips to her ear.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t kill you now.”

Her heart thumped in her ears, the marks on her chest buzzing with pain, adrenaline and the tiniest slivers of pleasure.

“If you touch me,” she spat. “I’ll kill you.”

“I’m already touching you, little Fae. Try again. Convince me.”

“I’m not fucking begging.”

The grip around her throat squeezed, a soft head rush clouding her senses.

“You’ll be begging, though,” she mumbled. “If you don’t get off me.”

His weight on her stopped all squirming and thrashing, as did the hand sliding into her hair to grab a fist full. He turned her head so they were almost eye to eye. She closed her eyes against the sinful thoughts threatening to creep out. No, this just reminded her of her mates. It wasn’t about him.

“Get off.”

“Do you want me to beg? Does that get you off?”

Her eyes shot open, and she peered straight down at his golden orbs. His voice was different. Deeper. Richer. Full of wanting.

“If you don’t move,” she panted, praying he couldn’t hear the racing of her heart or the way it thrummed between her thighs.

“My mates will kill you.”

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