Page 10 of Rising Reign

“King would never want to put her at risk like that,” Locke argued.

Everything about it was wrong. A one-sided bond would be a disaster in the long run, but I also knew exactly why Hera had suggested it. We could draw strength from our bondmates, and right now, that was what King needed the most.

He’d been willing to give his life for me, and I would do the same for him.

My canines lengthened, pressing through my gums. Before anyone could stop me, I bit Kingston’s shoulder, sending all my love, strength, and hope with the bite. Sensations swept through me—pleasure and pain, hope and fear. Wave after wave until I felt a mental click.

I gently pulled my teeth from King’s flesh and wiped away the tiny specks of blood. Below the bite, a mark began to appear. A heart half-covered in what looked like hand wraps from the gym. A choked cry left my lips.

“Take his hand,” Hera ordered. “Keep him here.”

I gripped King’s hand as hard as I could. My vision blurred as she went to work with a mix of medical and magical tactics. King’s energy started to fade, and I pushed more of mine into him.

I swayed on my feet, and Locke instantly moved in to steady me. “It’s too much,” he said.

“No,” I rasped. “He’s not leaving. I won’t let him.”

“Almost there,” Hera called.

Her hand hovered over King’s chest, and the bullet sprang free. The moment it did, her hand clamped over the wound, and she began to chant. But it was too much. Everything in me started to waver. The room tipped sideways, and then I couldn’t see anything at all.

7

WREN

I woke to a burning heat as if I were lying on sand baked by the sun, the kind that scalded your feet if you stayed put too long. I let out a grumbling groan, and the surface I was lying on shifted. Was some kind of weird earthquake happening?

My eyelids fluttered, and bright light swept through in flashes. I took in everything I could before they closed again. Each sweep gave me more information. A rustic cabin, but one that was that way by choice. I knew because all the furniture looked fancy.

A cloud-like bed with a thick comforter. A bare, muscular chest. An angry scar.

The last image had me jerking upright.

“Easy,” Kingston said, the tone of his voice unreadable.

“Oh, gods.” I shoved my hair out of my face, struggling to process what I saw. King was propped up against the pillows and had color back in his face. It was no longer a sickly shade of pale. He looked…good. The scruff on his face was thicker, and he somehow looked more muscular, but his eyes… Shadows swirled in the pale blue, gray swirls streaking across his irises.

“Are you…you’re okay?” I croaked.

“I’m fine.” A muscle pulsed in Kingston’s jaw. “How do you feel? Are you in pain?”

I did a mental sweep. I felt rough, sore muscles and an ache that lived in my bones. Given what I’d been through in the past few days, it made sense. And then I remembered the bite. The bond.

My gaze moved to King’s shoulder and the mark there. A heart wrapped in something that signified both our fighting natures, in practice and in our souls. My fingers itched to reach out and touch it, to stroke every line.

“Why?” Kingston rasped. “Why did you do it?”

My eyes flew to his face, and I saw it then—the anger pulsing behind the mask. “What do you mean?”

“You bonded us,” he growled. “You could’ve been killed.”

I felt my eyes flash to my wolf. My inner beast wanted to rake her claws across King. “You were dying.”

“I would’ve survived,” Kingston ground out.

I threw off the covers and pushed out of bed. “Is being mated to me truly that horrible?”

King shoved up and raked a hand through his hair. “I never wanted you to mate me because you were forced to.”