This couldn’t be happening. Danica refused to look at the Mark on her hand, though she could feel the magical residue of its imprint tickling her skin. It only made her more determined not to think about it, which in turn made her think about it. It was a vicious cycle of suckage.

After Gage was hauled off to the dungeons, Danica had begged Alara to let her see him. She could tell Alara felt guilty for allowing the match to take place anyway, and Danica would be lying if she said she hadn’t played upon that guilt to needle Alara into allowing her to visit Gage.

She turned and marched in the direction they had taken him before the, “Yes,” had fully cleared Alara’s lips.

Alara had sent two guards to escort her, and Malachite made no move to stop her. Danica had almost wished he’d at least tried. Then she’d have another excuse to try to slap him.

She was so angry and confused, she wanted to beat his face in. She didn’t fancy herself a violent person, but the idea of him touching her in the way Gage had during their mating ceremony made her gag.

She refused to think about that. Right now, she had to focus on being strong for Gage. Thinking of her mate made a deluge of sorrow wash through her, like the sun would never shine again.

Danica felt like an inmate walking Death Row as she descended the dank stairwell into the dungeons below the castle. Her knees shook, and she had to keep a hand along the wall to keep from tripping. The sense that her life was falling apart and all her dreams were shattering overwhelmed her. This couldn’t be happening. Gage wasn’t supposed to lose. He couldn’t lose. He was strong and true and fearless and the man she truly loved.

Weren’t the good guys supposed to win? Didn’t that always happen in the movies? She suddenly felt childish for thinking so. The naive girl she was when she first met Gage was slowly slipping away, replaced by someone whose heart had stone walls built around it due to a lifetime of broken expectations. Still, the part of her that was hurting demanded an explanation.

Why is this happening? Is it all another test? What good can come of this?

She used to believe everything happened for a reason. “Tests are there to make you stronger,” her aunt had told her when she was younger. It had been her response whenever something bad had happened.

It was “just a test” when her mom died.

It was “just a test” when her boyfriend dumped her.

It was “just a test” when she got made fun of in school for not having the most stylish clothing.

Danica had whole-heartedly believed her aunt while growing up. But with every new test she faced, and every year she grew older, she started to doubt her aunt’s statements.

Were they all just “tests” or simply bouts of bad luck?

Danica was starting to feel like she couldn’t see any way another test could help her. If anything, it was only making her more tired and bitter.

Torches lined the walls of the dark hallway at the foot of the stairwell. “This way, ma’am,” one guard said solemnly as he led her through the passage.

Danica barely took notice of her surroundings. Shock came closest to what she felt, the same, familiar numbness that had swallowed her whole when she realized her aunt had abandoned her. The same way she’d felt when she found out her father was going to miss yet another birthday or Christmas because he’d be in jail again.

The dungeon was dark and well kept. She thankfully didn’t see any rats as she’d been halfway expecting. Hollywood had ruined her expectations of what a classic castle dungeon looked like. This was the twenty-first century, not the sixteenth.

Each cell was about eight feet across and eight feet deep. Iron bars lined the walls, and each cell had a modest cot, along with a small sink and a toilet. Danica wrinkled her nose. Despite the modern accommodations in each cell, she would die if she had to do a number two in front of someone.

With everything that’s going on, this is what you’re thinking about?

“We’re here.”

Her heart nearly stopped beating as her head shot up. Werewolf eyesight, she had to admit, was pretty impressive. Strangely enough, of all the changes that had been happening to her body since she mated with Gage, seeing more clearly in the dark had been the easiest to adapt to.

She paused in front of the cell the guards had stopped at, making out the figure of her mate beyond the bars.

She instantly went forward and gripped the cold iron as Gage did the same. Their lips met in a passionate kiss, though the angle was awkward thanks to the barrier. The bars pressed into her face as she strained to kiss her mate. When they broke the kiss, Gage gripped her hands. “I didn’t do it,” he whispered. “I didn’t use magic. I can’t.”

“I know. I believe you. Malachite had to have had something to do with it. He couldn’t have been playing fair.”

Footsteps approached, along with a deep voice that echoed off the lonely, spooky corridor. “Try to justify it all you want with your imaginative stories, but saying I cheated makes the outcome no less real.”

Danica growled and whirled around, leveling every ounce of hatred in her body at Malachite. “What the hell are you doing here? Can you not even grant me a moment alone with my mate?”

“He is not your mate anymore,” Malachite said calmly. “I am. I won you.”

Her head nearly exploded in outrage. She was surprised smoke didn’t start to seep out of her ears. “You—that—how dare you! I’m not some stuffed animal you won at the fair! Don’t treat me like an object with no feelings and no freewill!”

“I apologize,” he said, starting toward her. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Too late for that,” she snapped, smacking away his hand before it could caress her face. With anger fueling her resolve, she boldly walked up to him and looked him in the eyes. “What happened in the garden, or at any point after that, makes no difference to me. Even if you claim me as yours, I swear I will never stop looking for a way to break the spell.”

Malachite sighed tiredly and looked at her with sadness in his eyes. “When will you learn I’m not going to hurt you?” He reached for her hand. She tried to jerk it out of his reach, but he grabbed hold of her anyway and held her hand to his heart. “I swear I will be good to you.”

“I hate you,” Danica spat, angry tears pricking her eyes. Dammit, why did she have to cry every time she was upset? “You have ruined the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me, and I despise you for it.”

Hurt flashed through his eyes, replaced by simmering anger. “You may feel that way now, but you won’t always hate me. Either way, you mate with me tonight.”

Danica could scream. She thought about punching him but kept her anger thinly in check. “Aren’t you leaving?”

“I have something I wish to discuss with Gage,” Malachite said. “In private.”

Danica’s eyes flashed to Gage with worry. “I’m not leaving.”

“It’s fine,” Gage said, giving her a thin smile. “Alara promised she wouldn’t let anything happen to me.”

Danica smiled inside. That was a reminder to the guards standing nearby that if they broke the princess’s commandment, they’d have hell to pay. Catching on, she said to the guards, “Well, you heard him, boys. And now you have a witness that Malachite was down here. And considering the princess is my sister-in-law, I’d be sure to make her proud.”

Not ready to admit defeat, she couldn’t bring herself to say “was my sister-in-law.” She had no idea what this bogus Mark meant, if anything.

The guards nodded, each going for the gun on their belt. “We are loyal to our princess. We swear no harm will come to him.”

Danica appraised them. “It’d better not.” She brushed past Malachite, roughly bumping into him and causing him to take a step back as she went to the cell. “I’ll find a way to get you out,” she said to Gage. “I promise.” She kissed him again as passionately as she could, knowing full well Malachite was watching.

He cleared his throat, a scowl on his face, which only made her drag out the kiss longer. At last she pulled away from Gage and shone a snarky smile at Malachite.

“That’s the kind of kiss you’ll never get from me,” she said and turned on her heel to stalk off.

 

 

Gage couldn’t take his eyes off Danica as she walked away. Even when his eyes started to burn, he didn’t blink for fear it would be the last time he’d ever see her.

Come on, Danny, look back at me. Please. His soul yearned for it, more than oxygen or water. If he had a dying wish, it would be to see those beautiful green eyes of hers again.

Just when he thought she wouldn’t look back, she paused with her hand on the wall and glanced over her shoulder at him. For a precious moment in time, their eyes met and he swore he felt connected to her. Her love shone through her gaze, so real he could feel it.

I love you too, Danica. With all my heart and soul.

And then she was gone, the tears shining in his eyes haunting him for the silent few seconds that followed her departure.

Malachite put his hands in his jeans pockets and leaned against the cell. He stared at the floor, a pensive look to his face. “I hated to do this to you. But I had to have her.”

“Yeah. You sound sorry.” Gage had to walk away from the bars. Otherwise, he ran the risk of reaching through them, grasping a handful of Malachite’s freshly pressed shirt, and slamming his head against the bars.

The fantasy made him smile. Then Malachite spoke and things went to shit again.

“I can’t wait to feel her body against mine as I claim her.”

Gage nearly charged the bars. “You’ll never lay a finger on her!” he snarled.

“It looks like that’s not for you to decide.” Malachite barely contained his smile. It looked like he was enjoying this far too much.

Probably was, that smug son of a bitch. Ever since Gage bested him for the rank of Alpha, he knew it was only a matter of time before Malachite sought revenge. No true Alpha could just walk away from a humiliating situation with his tail between his legs.

Gage stared at him with loathing. “You don’t love her.”

That caught him off guard. “I could.”

“No, you won’t. You don’t know how to love. You never have.”

“Stop it.”

“Be a man and admit it, Malachite.” Gage grasped the bars, leaning forward. “You just can’t stand the thought of me being happy and getting what you can’t ever have.”

Malachite’s eyes flashed gold as he snarled and shook the bars. The whole cell rattled as a low growl emanated from his chest.

Guns cocked behind him. “Step away from the cell, Malachite. Or we’ll shoot.”

The gold in Malachite’s eyes faded away, and his growl turned into a dark chuckle. He smiled. “It hurts to be betrayed, doesn’t it?” he said softly.

“I couldn’t let you keep hurting people.”

“And yet you hurt the only packmaster who would take you and your unruly brother in.”

That almost hurt, had Gage not had years’ worth of horrific memories to dull the sting of regret.

“That’s the thing about betrayal,” Malachite said. “It has consequences. A single event can trigger ripples that set a plot for revenge into motion. As I told you when you beat me, Gage—what goes around truly does come around.”

Malachite straightened and tugged at his shirt to get out the wrinkles. “I’m done here,” he said to the guards. He cast Gage one last triumphant smile. “Think of me tonight when I’m ravishing Danica.”

“Gaahhhhhhh!” Gage roared as Malachite sauntered away. The bars weren’t completely sanded. Their rough texture grated against his hands as he pulled at them, but they wouldn’t budge.

He seethed as Malachite began whistling.

I’ll kill you for this. Then you won’t ever be able to hurt the ones I love again.