“If you don’t learn to defeat the monsters that haunt you, they will simply lie in wait, hidden in the dark recesses of your mind. They will remain so quiet that you are drawn into a false sense of security. Then, out of nowhere, they will attack and bring your world crashing down around you.” ~Zara
Two days had passed since Vasile and Rachel used their combined powers to temporarily restrain Zara’s wolf, preventing it from overpowering her human side and forcing the girl to phase uncontrollably. Now, Zara sat in the archives clutching her chest as her heart beat painfully hard. It was pounding out a rhythm brought on by a sudden bout of fear. It was late and the mansion was still. Zara, unable to sleep, had been reading. The fear had given her no warning of its arrival. One second, she was thumbing through the book, the next, her heart was racing. Soon, her breathing followed suit, and it became erratic as well. Try as she might, she could slow neither heart nor lungs. She couldn’t understand the sudden feeling of vulnerability. Zara had been with the werewolves for weeks now and felt safer than she had in nearly a decade. But, in this moment, she felt anything but safe.
The girl fought the darkness she could feel coming on, but Zara was no match for her memories. The archival room disappeared, and Zara was suddenly chained to a concrete wall. The only light came from a candelabra set in the wall. She looked down at herself. Her nightgown had been replaced with her old familiar rags, soiled and dirty. Ander kept her practically naked. That, along with the loss of blood, caused her to shiver as if she were in a snowstorm. She knew it was just a memory, but it felt so real, too real. Her breathing increased as she realized that he might show up in this memory. She might not simply be in his room, chained to a wall. Zara began praying to any god that would listen. “Please don’t let him come. Don’t let him come.” She didn’t think her mind could handle him touching her … biting her, again and again. Especially now that she’d found Wadim. She already felt dirty and unworthy of him. Now that she knew Wadim’s gentle and adoring touch, the thought of enduring Ander’s touch nauseated her even more than it had been when she’d really been stuck in that hell. Her head jerked up when she heard the all-too-familiar sounds of footsteps. She knew what was coming. Ander was obsessed with her. He just couldn’t leave her to suffer in peace.
Zara couldn’t stop her stomach from retching though nothing came up. She gagged over and over until her body was just too weak to continue. Then she heard his voice and screamed.
“Hello little lamb.” Ander’s voice was sickeningly sweet. Zara flailed her body violently in an attempt to get free of the shackles. “You thought you could get away from me. Silly girl, you are mine. You will always be mine. Or did you forget that I wasn’t the only one who drank blood during our time in my bed?”
Zara’s eyes shot open as she lifted her head to look at the monster who had taken everything from her. She had forgotten that he’d forced his blood in her. She’d forgotten how he’d held her mouth closed so she couldn’t spit it out and how he kissed her afterward, whispering wicked words in her ear, telling her how he was now a part of her. This was the worst thing that happened to her during her captivity, and her mind must have blocked the memory because she was so terrified of the repercussions. Would she never be free of Ander? She was scared to know the truth. He was dead. Wasn’t he? Could you really kill a vampire for good? She had no idea. Couldn’t his spirit reach her even after death because of the blood they’d shared? No, not shared, that implied a mutual exchange. Her blood had been ripped from her body, and his had been forced into hers. It wasn’t the only thing he’d forced on her.
Now, the vampire started walking toward her, the evil smile, the one she knew as well as the back of her hand, stretched across his face. NO. She growled at herself. This was just a memory, and she wasn’t going to endure this, not again. Wake up! She chanted it over and over, screaming at her unconscious mind to escape from the horrid place. Wake. Up. She kept telling herself, but Zara knew she wasn’t asleep. She was stuck in her own mind, and she didn’t know how to get out. As Ander drew closer, she redoubled her efforts to get free. She wished he would just kill her and be done with it. So many times when they’d been together, she’d thought that very thing, over and over. She just wanted it to be over, and if death was the only way, then she would welcome it with open arms.
“Zara!”
She heard her name, but the voice did not belong to her captor.
“Zara, come back to me, baby.”
She knew that voice. “Wadim?”
“Open your eyes for me, beautiful. I’m right here. You’re not with him anymore.”
Hearing Wadim in her mind gave Zara something to grab onto, an anchor in the storm of memories that were trying to drown her. She felt his love through the bond, felt his concern and his need to protect her. Zara felt Wadim’s arms around her and his lips on hers, his breath filling her starving lungs. Finally, her eyes opened, and the memories were shoved down deep inside of her.
When Zara’s eyes met his, they were glowing bright with the presence of his wolf, and everything in his stiff posture screamed that he was on the verge of losing control.
“What happened?” he asked, his voice a low growl.
Zara tried to drop her head, but Wadim wouldn’t let her. He held her face in both of his hands, forcing her to look at him.
“Talk to me, Z. You don’t have to deal with this alone.”
Zara wanted to sound strong and capable, despite feeling weak and vulnerable. But her voice betrayed her true emotions. “I was reading,” she finally said. “And then suddenly I was back in that hell … with him. It felt so real.”
“Is this the first time this has happened?” he asked.
She shook her head. It had happened before, but only while Wadim had been asleep and never this vivid. It had taken all her will but, somehow, up to this point, she’d managed to keep the memories from her mate. She knew she was tainted, dirty. She didn’t want Wadim to have to bear that burden.
“You could never be a burden to me,” he said, having picked up on her thoughts. “You’re mine. My mate, my love, and it is a privilege to get to care for you.” He paused, searching her eyes before he continued. “I could feel your terror, but I couldn’t see what you saw. What did he do to you, my love?”
Zara felt so much shame. She couldn’t bring herself to tell Wadim, this beautiful creature that claimed to love her, what she’d done. Her body began to tremble. Wadim placed a steadying hand on her shoulder.
“It’s okay, love. Whatever it is, we will get through it. I told you. I’m here, right by your side. There is nothing you can tell me that will make me leave you.”
Zara took a deep breath. She knew that couldn’t be true. She knew he’d leave once he found out what she’d done … what she was. But Zara knew she couldn’t hide the memories from Wadim any longer. Eventually, he’d see them through their bond. Then it would all be over. Best to rip the bandage off now and get it over with, before this went any further. Before she fell even more for him and the pain of his inevitable leaving got even worse.
“Ander didn’t just drink my blood,” she said. She glanced up at Wadim’s blue eyes. There was no judgment there, but still she looked quickly back at the ground. “He did other things…”
“That’s okay,” Wadim began. “I’ve already told you—”
“No, that’s not it,” interrupted Zara. “He … he … forced me to drink his blood too. He claimed it made him a part of me.” Zara closed her eyes as she spoke. “He said I would never be rid of him, that he would always be a part of me.” She began to sob.
Wadim pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. She cried into his chest, speaking through the tears. “Is that true?” Her voice was muffled. “Even though he’s dead, I still feel him. It’s like he’s still right here with me. Like he’s still putting his hands on me. It is true, Wadim? Is he really a part of me?”
Wadim’s wolf growled, but the man stifled it. “I wish I could say with absolute certainty, no. There’s no kind of magic that could bind your spirits. But I cannot lie to you. I honestly don’t know. But I can promise you this.” Wadim pulled her back and held her by both shoulders. He looked into her eyes. Zara wanted to wrench away. She wanted to run and hide. She looked everywhere but at Wadim’s face. “Look at me, love.”
Finally, she forced herself to meet his gaze.
“I promise you,” he said, “I will find out. I’ll find an answer for you. I don’t care if I have to read every single page of every single book in this entire archive. I don’t care if I have to travel to the djinn realm and break into their archives. I will find an answer.”
Zara’s trembling began to slow. A faint hope began to blossom in her heart.
“And I promise you this as well. It doesn’t matter what the answer is, I will still love you with everything I have. I don’t care if you have the blood of a thousand vampires or witches or trolls or ogres flowing through your veins, my love. You are mine and I am yours. Nothing, nothing, will ever change that.”
It wasn’t what Zara had been hoping to hear. She’d wanted to hear Wadim say she was just being silly, that nothing like that could ever happen, but she was glad he didn’t tell her a lie just to placate her. Finally, her breathing slowed and the shaking began to stop. She collapsed back into Wadim’s embrace. He held her gently. After some time, he spoke again.
“Have you ever considered talking to someone about what happened to you, Z?” he asked softly as he ran his hands gently across her arm. “Your mind and your body have experienced extreme trauma. I don’t say that to make you feel weak,” he said quickly. She could tell he noticed her sudden stiff demeanor. “I’m just stating facts. I want you to be whole. I want you to be happy and healthy. I’ll do anything to make that happen.”
She looked down at her hands, her fingers clasping and unclasping as she considered her next words. “I don’t like remembering. I just want it to be gone, to be over.”
“Sometimes in order for a wound to heal, you have to reopen it and remove the infection. You can’t ignore that it happened. You have to deal with it.”
She nodded, even though she wanted to stomp her foot like a five-year-old and tell him no. Zara hated to admit it, but Wadim was right. She needed to deal with her past.
“I’m scared,” she admitted after several minutes of silence. She was learning that Wadim was completely comfortable with silence. Despite his quick wit and sharp tongue, he had no need to fill the air with unnecessary words. He was comfortable in his own skin and comfortable with her.
“I know,” he said as he gently ran his hand down her hair. “But you’re safe now. I won’t let anything or anyone hurt you ever again.”
She leaned into his touch. It had been so long since anyone had touched her in a kind, caring way and, though she feared it, she also craved it. And as much as she craved that touch, she also craved the safety he promised. But despite the good intentions behind his words, that’s all they were. He couldn’t keep her safe from the memories or scars that marred her body. He couldn’t fight monsters that lingered in the form of ghosts that attacked her when she least expected it.
“How can you say that? I’m sure my parents promised me the same thing, and look at them now.”
“Maybe I cannot protect you from the hurts you’ve already experienced,” he said, picking up on her concerns—apparently, she didn’t have as tight a hold on the bond as she’d thought she did—“but I can help you as you deal with them yourself. I can be by your side every step of the way.”
Zara had been careful to keep the new bond between them closed when the memories overtook her or the pain became too much, and Wadim had been incredibly understanding about it. He said he could understand her not wanting someone else invading her body after what she’d been through. But that wasn’t the reason she kept the bond closed. She didn’t want him in her mind because she didn’t want him to feel the shame she was drowning in. She didn’t want him to see how she saw herself. She didn’t want him to know she wished the vampires would have just drained her like they had so many of their other captives. Zara didn’t want him to realize he’d been given such an unworthy mate.
“Hey,” his voice coaxed her out of her mind. “Do you want to go on a walk? Maybe get some fresh air? I know it’s late, but perhaps a walk will help us unwind.”
“Sure,” she said, but it wasn’t what she really wanted. Instead, she wanted to knock herself unconscious somehow and slip into the silent darkness and stay there. She let him pull her to her feet and thread his fingers through hers. Part of her loved his touch, loved that he gave it so freely and with such tenderness. But part of her loathed it because she couldn’t understand how he could possibly want to touch her. He’d seen a glimpse of what had been done to her, how her body had been violated. How could he possibly still see her as desirable?
He led her up the stairs from the vault of history to where he made his home. They emerged into a hallway of the Romania pack mansion. The house was huge. She’d walked around some, but she still hadn’t seen the entire thing.
They didn’t pass anyone on their way to the front doors, which sort of surprised her. Despite the late hour, there always seemed to be at least a few people up and about in the mansion.
“It’s quiet,” she murmured, feeling she shouldn’t speak too loudly.
Wadim nodded. “Yeah, it almost feels like the calm before the storm. Vasile mentioned to me tonight that he is expecting Skender, one of our male wolves who has been looking for his mate in the U.S., to arrive any day now. The storm that’s coming is named Costin. He will most likely kill Skender once he finds out what Skender knows.”
“What?”
Wadim blanched as he looked her. She knew he must see horror on her face.
“Crap, I’m sorry,” he said. “I guess I shouldn’t talk about killing another person so casually. I didn’t mean to scare you. Don’t be alarmed. We are nothing like the vampires. We do not kill for sport. But, occasionally, unfortunate things happen when members of the pack betray one another. As you know, male Canis lupus are very, very protective of their mates. According to Vasile, Skender was aware of what happened to Sally, and yet he did not call his Alpha and inform him. It’s a betrayal of his pack that cannot be forgiven. His actions are a death sentence. The punishment will be carried out by the one affected most by his betrayal. Don’t mention any of this to Jen, Jacque, or Sally. I don’t know how much they know about Skender, if anything, and the situation must be handled delicately. They are good girls but they, too, are still relatively new to our pack. Sometimes, well-meaning though they might be, they exacerbate problems instead of helping matters.”
“Speaking of Sally,” Zara said, hoping not to return to the topic of her own issues, “how is she doing?”
“I’ve only seen her a couple of times since they got back, but it seems like the visit to her home was good for her.”
Zara’s heart clenched tightly in her chest. She had no home to go back to.
Wadim stopped and gently lifted her chin. “I may not be able to see into your mind, beautiful, but I’m perfectly capable of reading your face. Your pain is like a physical ache in me. I would do anything to remove it. Remember this, I’m your home now. I’m your safe place.”
Zara nodded but didn’t speak. There were no words she could offer. He was her home. Even if she didn’t deserve him and wasn’t worthy of him, he was all she had.
They continued and as Wadim pulled open the large front door, she took a deep breath of the clean, mountain air. It was summer, and the air was warm in her lungs. The evening sun had surrendered her sky to the moon hours ago, and all of nature seemed to be asleep under the vast canopy of stars. “You can phase if you want,” she told him. His eyes were glowing again, and she could see the eagerness in his body.
“I won’t be able to talk to you.”
She knew he was referring to their bond, and it made her feel guilty. Still, she wasn’t willing to open it, knowing what he would see inside of her. He continued to hold her hand as they walked out onto the front lawn, past the driveway, and off into the woods where the pack liked to roam.
“What was your last name?” Wadim asked.
It wasn’t a strange question, really. But Zara knew there was more to the question than a simple curiosity about her previous life. Wadim was the pack historian. She’d noticed he had a habit of seeking out information he would eventually store in the archives. This tendency bled over into their relationship. It felt slightly invasive, but he always backed off when she needed him to.
“I know you said you don’t want to use it anymore,” he added. “But it’s a part of who you were, and I want all of you.”
“Possessive much?” she teased.
“Very,” he answered, and his voice rumbled with his wolf.
“Myers,” Zara said. “My last name was Myers. My parents were Summer and Zach Myers.”
He smiled. “Fitting that a woman named Summer would give her offspring a name like Zara. Beautiful and unusual, just like her.”
“You’re a little biased.”
“Because I’m your true mate?” he asked. “Perhaps a little,” he admitted. “But I’m also male, and I’d have to be blind not to see how beautiful you are. And deaf and dumb not to hear your sweet, genuine voice and know that you have a kind, giving spirit.”
What was she supposed to say to that? Thanks? You’re welcome? That would have been a Jen answer. But what was a Zara answer? To tuck her tail and run, yes, that seemed more up her alley. But he was a predator, so if she ran, he would simply chase her. And she had a feeling she’d tire out way before he did.
“My beautiful mate, you’ll learn to take my compliments. I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.” He squeezed her hand and then ran his thumb across the palm of the hand he was holding. His touch did strange things to her, and by the grin on his face, he knew it.
They walked in companionable silence for over half an hour, and by the time they returned to the mansion, Zara was finally beginning to feel tired. She tilted her head back and stared up at the dark night sky and wondered how it could be so beautiful and so scary at the same time. There was a time when she wasn’t afraid of the dark. She hadn’t believed in monsters and thought she was untouchable in the safe bubble of her middle-class home. She’d been so very wrong.
“I have a surprise for you,” Wadim said as he led her up the steps to the front door. “Do you mind heading down to our place? I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Sure,” Zara said.
“Good.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss on her forehead. They parted ways once inside the foyer. The mansion was silent as she walked and the lack of noise felt ominous. Everyone else was, no doubt, tucked safely away in their beds, their bodies getting the rest they needed, the rest that her own body denied her. If she didn’t get some sleep tonight, Zara wouldn’t be up to making an appearance in the mansion tomorrow. She hadn’t been out of the archives in two days. She knew if she didn’t show her face above ground soon, Jen would eventually pay her a visit. Zara didn’t want that. An uninvited visit from Jen was kind of like eating a suspect burrito. At first, it seems okay, but then, fifteen minutes later, you’re in agony in the bathroom. She didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Jen’s “love.” At least that’s what the blonde claimed it was when she bombarded people to death. And Zara didn’t want to face the others either. She may be able to hide things from Wadim, but she had a feeling Alina and Vasile would see right through her. They would pick up on the sheer terror in her eyes of not knowing what her future held.
Zara had been sitting at the table in the main room of the archives for less than five minutes when she heard the door at the top of the stairs open and then footsteps descending
Wadim appeared at the bottom of the stairs and the flirty smile she’d grown to love was titled up on his face, and his eyes danced with mischief as he took the seat beside her and then reached out his hand. Zara took the outstretched hand and let him pull her out of her chair and into his lap. It was his standard practice. Wadim seemed to think that his lap was the only place worthy of her derrière … his words.
Zara leaned her body into his chest and rested her head on his shoulder. “Where’s my surprise?”
Without answering, he held out his other hand, which had been clenched into a fist, and slowly opened it one finger at a time.
Zara’s breath caught as she stared at the small carved figure attached to a delicate necklace. “A moon?” she asked.
Wadim nodded.
“Did you carve this?”
He nodded again. “It’s carved from a piece of Birch tree. As you know”—he grinned at her and winked—“I have a little bit of love for history, and not just for that of the supernaturals. I enjoy history in general. Native American history is especially interesting to me. They believe trees have different meanings, and a Birch tree symbolizes new beginnings and a cleansing of the past.”
“So why the moon?” Zara asked.
“It represents our Creator. I made this for you to wear as a reminder that you’ve been given a new beginning by The Great Luna. She didn’t forget you. And though your past will definitely shape how you move forward, it does not define you or the future you will have. You have a new beginning, with me, with our pack.” He leaned back and moved her hair over her shoulder. Zara lifted her hair a bit so that he could place the necklace around her neck and connect the clasp.
“Thank you,” she said as she turned to look at him. “I love it.” She didn’t know what else to say. It had been so long since anyone had given her anything, and she felt a little out of sorts.
Wadim pressed his lips to hers for several seconds and then slowly separated them as he pulled back. “You are most welcome. Are you ready to try and get some rest?”
She nodded.
“Good. Because I have it on good authority that you will be having a visitor tomorrow who is willing to drag you by your gorgeous hair from the dungeon if she has to.”
“Let me guess,” Zara said. “Jen?”
Wadim nodded.
“And who was the good authority from?”
Wadim chuckled. “Jen.”
“Of course.”