Page 2 of City of Promise and Light (Mates of Gods and Fae #1)

I inhaled sharply, my eyes widening and my muscles tensing, when the wolf leaped into the air. His mouth opened; his sharp teeth ready to rip into my flesh.

The feel of needles threaded through me, the sensation painfully running down my arms. My blood hummed from the pressure building inside of me.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I lifted my hands, a small and feeble attempt to protect myself, and screamed.

My hands warmed and a light shone brightly around me.

The pressure that had built erupted from me, the adrenaline making my body feel numb.

This was it; I knew that there was nothing else I could do to stop the razor-sharp pain that was about to strike.

Pain that was taking…a little too long to feel?

Slowly, I opened my eyes before widening them, surprise skittering through me as I found the wolf lying on the ground, whining and struggling to stand on his feet.

Looking around me, I found the other wolves frozen in place, their ears lowered, and their hackles raised along their backs.

They watched me with deadly intent, waiting for their leader’s next move.

When I looked back at the wolf in front of me, he finally stood on shaking legs.

I instinctively lifted my hands again, mentally preparing myself for another attack.

The wolf stood still, quietly assessing me with defeated eyes, like I was the predator instead of him.

As if finding his answer, the wolf’s ears lowered as he turned and slowly limped back into the dark forest, his pack following close behind him, one by one.

Dazed and confused, I turned to where I had last heard Micah.

Making my way down the hill, I found him sitting on the ground, rubbing his bloodied knees.

He winced when his teary gaze met my icy glare.

A small part of me was relieved that he wasn’t hurt, but that was a very small part.

The rest was angry, and that anger thrummed through my body, making my hands itch with a force that felt ready to burst from me.

My lips curled into a sneer as I watched Micah quiver on the hard ground, watching how his shoulders seemed to curl inward under the weight of my scowl. Fear and guilt glimmered in his eyes when I took a slow step forward. Every thought in my mind evaporated. All except for one.

Make him pay.

I wanted to make him suffer for offering me as bait to the wolves, abandoning me to save himself. My body felt hot, outraged by how much of a coward he had become in that moment. All I could feel was a burning desire to make him face the same betrayal that clenched my heart tight within its grip.

The touch of his sweaty palms pushing me forward was burned into my memory.

How the cold from the ground seeped into my knees while he ran.

My anger quickly morphed into fury and disgust. My breath grew heavier as the memory replayed across my mind again and again.

My body felt as if it was pulsing. It was like I was on the outside looking in, watching someone else take command of my body, moving it forward, closer to Micah’s hunched form.

Lost in the memory that consumed me, I stretched my hands to him, eager to make him feel every bit of the misery he deserved, when a soft voice called to me from the darkened woods.

My hand stopped, still outstretched, while I listened to the voice, deep and calming, murmuring a plea for me to stop.

Melodic and harmonious, the words wrapped around me in a language I couldn’t understand but felt in my very soul.

An overwhelming sense of stillness washed through me, calming the rage that had consumed my every thought.

The peacefulness that followed brought me back to myself before I could do something I’d regret.

Looking to the shadowy woods, I found nothing but darkness staring back.

Closing my eyes, I took a deep calming breath, relaxing my shoulders, letting the tension drain away along with the last of the violence that purred inside me.

I looked down at my hands, clenching them into tight fists as the feeling of pinpricking needles eased.

Taking another glance at the forest, I shuddered with a breath.

Cutting my gaze to Micah, my eyes must have still shown the promise of violence from moments before.

His face paled as I stared at him. “Asshole,” I muttered, turning my back on him, leaving him on his own.

Sniffling, Micah stood and quietly followed behind, his steps timid as the trail twisted and turned, weaving us to the main road.

Retracing our steps back to the red-leafed maple tree, I paused, reaching out to the tree, letting my hand graze softly against the rough bark.

The tree felt like home; the calmness it gave me was warm and welcoming.

The deep burgundy leaves rustled as a cold breeze wrapped around us, like it was celebrating our safe return.

Taking another moment to savor the peace, I pushed the anxiety I felt about returning home deep inside and continued down the path.

Reaching the street, I ignored the sound of Micah’s wavering steps.

I could feel his guilt hanging heavy in the air.

I almost hoped he choked on it. I couldn’t forget the memory of tonight, of him shoving me toward the wolf, leaving me to fend for myself.

I knew he wanted my forgiveness. I knew he wanted me to turn to him, to tell him that everything was fine and that I understood why he did it.

But I refused to give him the words that he was hoping to hear as I kept walking, leaving him standing alone in the middle of the darkened street.

My steps grew heavier when I reached the pathway to my house. The porch light was on, casting my father’s menacing shadow onto the steps below. My heart pinched with guilt, knowing how disappointed and angry my father would feel after learning just how close to harm’s way Micah and I had been.

Stepping into the light, I paused at the bottom of the steps, my palms clammy as I fidgeted with the hem of my shirt. Too ashamed to meet my father’s glare, I stared at the ground, swallowing hard.

“Where were you?” He demanded quietly. His voice was low and unnervingly calm.

My face grew hot from the shame I felt from getting caught. “Micah and I went into the woods,” I muttered softly.

The silence stretched between us; my father’s stare seemed to burn right through me.

Seconds passed, but it felt like an eternity until he finally said, “Do you not remember what I told you about being in those woods?” My mouth dried at the shakiness in his voice as he fought to keep his temper at bay.

The heat of unshed tears stung my eyes, but I could only nod, too afraid to even whisper a response. “Did anything happen?”

I looked up at him then, his question sounding so soft that I was sure I would find relief gleaming in his gaze.

I was sure he would be overjoyed to see me home, safe and sound.

But it wasn’t relief or joy that I found reflected there.

The same sky-blue eyes that all the men in my family shared were narrowed and filled with contempt.

My heart dropped when I took in the wariness carved along the lines of his jaw.

His body was stiff with uncertainty and distrust as his cold glare studied me.

I swallowed down the knot in my throat, shock needling down my spine, which quickly turned to dread. I tried to find the words, any words, that would make him stop looking at me like I was a stain that he needed to remove.

“I said, did anything happen?” He bellowed, his words echoing into the darkness behind me.

Flinching, I stumbled through the events of the evening, what happened with the wolves and how they stopped their hunt.

How they returning to the woods after the bright light shone around us.

With every word, my father’s body shook more and more with restraint, his eyes filling with venom.

My voice quivered as I tried to explain how everything was okay, that Micah and I were fine, promising him we would stay away from the woods.

Tears blurred my vision at the thought of never seeing my maple tree again, but I kept repeating my promise and my apology, though anguish tore through me.

I would give it all up just so he wouldn’t look at me like I was nothing.

I would promise anything just for warmth and love to return to those soft blue eyes once again.

After finishing my apology, I looked back to the ground, the weight of his stare feeling too heavy, and silently waited for my punishment. His anger was so potent in the air that I could taste it, like fire and smoke, choking me with its presence.

The moments stretched until my father finally stood, his shadow towering over me, making me shrink back. Giving me one final huff of disappointment, he turned to the front door, muttering words too quiet for me to understand.

With timid steps, I followed him, walking straight to my room.

Softly closing the door behind me, I flinched at the loud thud of my parents’ bedroom door slamming shut, the force making the wall shake.

Sliding down against the door, I sat on the floor, pulling my knees close to my chest while I listened to the angry murmurs echoing through the quiet house.

Why did I ever think this was something we could get away with?

Exploring the woods, following the deer trails along the streams, it all seemed so easy to do—until it wasn’t.

Softly, my head thumped against the door, the tears I held back finally falling free.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when I wiped my swollen eyes and changed into my pajamas.

Sliding into my soft bed, I wrapped my thick blanket around me, forming a tight cocoon.

I breathed in deeply a few times and finally drifted off into a fitful sleep filled with sounds of terrible growls.

As the sun rose the next day, I opened my tired eyes.

They felt puffy and full of sand as thoughts from the previous night barreled through my mind.

The hungry growls still haunted me, and the fear and anger that seemed to possess me made my chest feel tight.

That anger had warmed my veins; I had felt powerful, like I could do anything and everything and the world was there, ready for the taking.

Yet, I felt sick at the same time. It was so easy for that power to morph into something else, something darker, almost deadly.

A shiver shot down my spine at the memory of how I had lost all control of my body as I stalked closer to Micah, wanting nothing but revenge, or how my mind seemed to whisper three words repeatedly.

Make him pay.

A sniffling sound caught my attention, pulling my thoughts back to the present. Sitting up, I strained my ears to find where the sound was coming from. Another sniffle came from outside my door, and I recognized the sound. My mother.

I quickly pulled the covers off me, and my heart dropped.

Silently, I cracked open my door enough to make out the shape of my mother hunched over the kitchen table, her ashy brown hair falling around her face.

The sight broke me in two as those soft and delicate hands covered her face while she wept alone.

Afraid to move, to make any sudden noise, I rested my body against the door frame while I watched my mother’s listless form, my heart tearing into pieces.

A strange silence echoed through the house as I pieced it all together. The disgust that resonated from my father, my mother crying alone, the silence that seemed to ring throughout the house.

My father had left, abandoning us, and it was all my fault.