Page 74

Amari

S ix hours.

Carla has been trapped in that magical web for six hours, and now she’s been sleeping for hours more. The combination is enough to drive me insane. I’ve been watching her breathe, counting each rise and fall of her chest, terrified that if I look away, she might disappear again.

She fell asleep in the SUV on the way back to the cabin.

I carried her inside, changed her into a nightgown, and stripped down to my tank top and boxer briefs before crawling into bed beside her.

I haven’t moved since, just watching over her, my eyes tracing the curve of her cheek, the softness of her lips, the curls that frame her face.

Movement on the wall catches my attention. Moria and Kemnebi suddenly appear in the bedroom, their legs making the faintest tapping sound against the wall. I sit up, my eyes locking onto them.

“I know you went into limbo with Carla,” I say quietly, careful not to wake her. “What happened?”

They remain still, offering no response. No images, no communication of any kind.

“What is it?” I press, frustration leaking into my voice. “I’m not allowed to know? She is my fated mate.”

Still nothing. Kemnebi shifts slightly, his eight eyes fixed on the window, but offers no explanation. I turn away from them with a sigh, returning my attention to Carla. My fingers gently stroke her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath my touch.

“Wake up, baby, please?” I whisper, leaning in to press soft kisses against her arm.

She shifts a little, rolling onto her back, and I smile as I detect the change in her heartbeat. My fingers move to caress her forehead.

“She’s waking up,” I murmur, more to myself than to the spiders still watching from the wall.

Her eyes slowly flutter open, and she moans, squirming against the sheets. When she finally focuses on me, a smile spreads across her face, sending a wave of relief through my body.

“Finally,” I say, gently stroking her cheek.

She puts a hand to her mouth and yawns. “How long was I out?”

“Hours,” I tell her, my thumb tracing the line of her jaw.

“How long was I in limbo?”

“Six hours,” I reply, watching her closely for any sign of distress.

She sits up suddenly, then winces, falling back against the pillow with a groan. Her hand flies to her forehead. “Instant headache.”

I’m off the bed in a flash, dashing to the bathroom. I run a washcloth under warm water, wring it out, and return to the bed. I place it gently over her forehead, and she moans at the warmth of it.

“I don’t know how to help you with a headache,” I admit, feeling oddly helpless. “Do witches take aspirin?”

She laughs at that, the sound warming me from the inside out. Even in pain, her laughter is the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.

“Are you thirsty? Hungry?” I ask, already thinking about what I could bring her.

She tries to sit up again, and this time I help her, propping pillows against the headboard to support her.

“Why does it feel like my entire body is sore?” she mutters, shifting uncomfortably. “Limbo sucks.”

I laugh, sliding out of bed. “I’ll get you something to eat and drink.”

She shakes her head, reaching for me. “No, stay.”

It’s hard to deny her anything when she looks at me like that, with those dark eyes full of need. I slide back into bed and pull her into my arms, feeling her relax against me.

“Do you remember anything?” I ask, my chin resting on the top of her head.

“I remember everything,” she says, her voice quiet. “And unfortunately, it’s not good news.”

I wait, giving her space to tell me in her own time.

“I met Tabatha in limbo,” she continues. “She said the veil won’t lift until I’m ready.”

“Ready for what?” I ask, my fingers tracing idle patterns on her arm.

“Tabatha was cryptic,” Carla sighs. “Something about me being queen of limbo.”

I chuckle, not surprised by this revelation. “Well, we knew you were at least a doorway, but I already knew you were a queen.”

She frowns up at me, and I smile at the way her brow furrows.

“The visit was pointless,” she says, frustration evident in her voice. “The veil isn’t lifted.”

“But Tabatha didn’t say it would be this way forever,” I point out, trying to offer some hope.

Carla sighs and rests her head against me. “I just want to be whole with you.”

I gently rub the top of her head, my other hand making slow circles on her back. “I will take you as you are,” I tell her softly. “Even if the veil never lifts, I will make my peace with it. As long as I get to stay with you. That’s all that matters to me.”

She looks up at me with a smile that lights up her entire face. “For an asshole, you always say the sweetest things. It’s maddening.”

I chuckle, tightening my arms around her. “I’m an asshole in love.”

Her expression shifts, frustration replacing the momentary happiness. “It feels like there’s nothing more I can do other than wait,” she says. “It’s not fair.”

I stay quiet, letting her work through her feelings.

“Tabatha said she could see us,” Carla continues. “That she knows how much you love me. That you would live in limbo for all eternity as long as you could be with me.”

“Tabatha is a smart woman,” I reply, meaning every word.

“No,” Carla says firmly, sitting up to frown at me. “I don’t want that. I don’t want to pull you into darkness.”

I run a finger over her lips, stopping her protest. “It’s too late, Carla,” I tell her, my voice low and serious. “I’m too far gone. You own me. I’ve been in darkness until I found you.”

She looks at me with those big, vulnerable eyes, and something shifts inside me. Before she can respond, I pull the damp cloth from her forehead and stand from the bed. I drop it in the hamper, then head downstairs to the kitchen.

I make her a bowl of fresh fruit, slicing apples, strawberries, and bananas, and adding some grapes for good measure.

I fill a tall glass with ice water, then glance at the refrigerator, knowing there’s a gallon of blood inside that I should drink from.

My throat burns at the thought, but I close the fridge without taking it.

Carla needs me more than I need to feed right now.

I make my way back upstairs to where she’s waiting for me in bed. I sit down and place the food in front of her, then begin to play with her hair as she eats, twirling the curls around my fingers.

“So it’s a waiting game,” I say, watching as she takes a bite of fruit.

She chews thoughtfully, then looks up at me. “Are you disappointed? That you got a broken mate like this?”

I laugh, genuinely amused by her question. “What’s broken about you?”

I shift on the bed, turning to face her more directly. “I think what Tabatha means by ‘the veil won’t lift until you’re ready’ is that you aren’t sure of yourself yet.”

Her eyes meet mine, curious and wary at the same time.

“That worthless human at the restaurant was ready to strike you,” I remind her, the memory burning fresh in my mind.

Carla stares at her bowl for a moment, then looks back at me.

“You’re a Blackwood witch,” I continue, my voice hardening. “You should have melted his fucking hand for even raising it.”

She blinks, startled by the intensity of my words.

“You’ve got to stop accepting scraps from humans and the supernaturals here,” I tell her. “But not to worry, I’ll be handling that from now on.”

“Tabatha knows that Alexis has my blood,” Carla says, changing the subject slightly. “And whatever samples she took from Verde and Petra. She said this is what she was worried about.”

She looks at me, her expression turning inquiring. “Did you ever find out why she wanted to meet you?”

I shake my head. “No. I never responded to her, and she sent me another cryptic message after Bobby retrieved Verde and Petra. She said she took that response as a decline and that all is fair in love and war.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Carla asks, surprise evident in her voice.

“Do you really want the gory details of corporate warfare?” I counter, raising an eyebrow.

Carla sighs, her shoulders slumping slightly. “It bothers me that even Tabatha says I have a lack of confidence. How is that fair? I’ve been living in the worst places imaginable because the world hates me for who I am.”

I pull the bowl from her lap and set it aside, then pull her into my arms. “You shouldn’t be asking—begging,” I tell her firmly. “Fuck them. And now you don’t have to worry about that. You have me, your spider children, and now an army of 200 men who will die for you.”

I tilt her chin up so she’s looking at me. “It’s not a question of whether or not they will accept you. Medina Shadow already has. They’re breaking ground, building a palace for you now.”

“How do Damon and Kade feel about you having such a big coven?” she asks.

I shrug, lifting her chin to place a soft kiss on her lips. “And you have me, baby. And I don’t care how anyone feels about the decisions I made for my coven. Amir has already said I’m a vampire ahead of my time.” I chuckle, shaking my head. “Whatever that means.”

“Amir approves of my coven,” I explain, running my fingers through her curls.

“Are you going to turn more men?” she asks, her eyes searching mine.

“No,” I say with certainty. “I’m resigned to a life here with you. The men of my coven is all that will be.”

A question occurs to me as I watch Moria and Kemnebi on the wall, still observing us silently. “Do your mated children reproduce? Will Moria and Kemnebi make spiderlings?”

Carla shakes her head. “No. They’re just paired up, but Moria will never lay an egg sac.”

She looks thoughtful for a moment. “I never actually saw the mother of the egg sac that hatched when I got them. It was as if Fate herself created it and them, just the same way I was created.”

“I learned about that,” she continues, her voice growing softer. “Fate gave Tabatha’s coven a baby—me. And she thought that I was the answer to their prayers, the sacrifice they made.”

Her eyes grow distant as she recalls the story. “Aya was hunting them, so they knew the best way to keep me safe was to send me away. They placed me in a cot in the forest, and that’s how my adoptive parents found me.”

She stares at her hands, fingers twisting together in her lap. “Tabatha watched me grow up and even leave the village when my parents kicked me out. Tabatha even saw me in the shadows with the spiderlings and watched me grow up with them.”

“She didn’t show up again until...” Her voice trails off, and she bows her head. I wrap my arms around her, feeling the tremor that runs through her body.

“Until you were murdered,” I finish for her.

She looks up at me, and I smile, trying to ease the pain I see in her eyes.

“Tabatha didn’t step in because it was somehow better for me to die first and be brought back to life,” Carla explains. “She never explained that part. But she made a deal with the children and... here I am.”

“What now?” she asks, her voice small. “This veil isn’t lifting, and I don’t know what kind of readiness I need to have.”

Suddenly, she stiffens in my arms and looks up at me, her eyes widening.

“What is it?” I ask, concerned by the sudden change.

“I asked Tabatha about what was going on with King Amir and Queen Anora’s son,” she says. “Our children Yara and Kofi have been fighting souls from limbo from coming after him.”

Her brow furrows as she recalls the conversation. “Tabatha was cryptic about that and said that was one of the many thankless battles I will fight for Wintermoon. It feels like I’m a weapon or something.”

I shake my head and press a kiss to her forehead. “No, it sounds like you’re a guardian. A guardian of realms.” I smile down at her, my eyes meeting hers. “And I will happily serve you as Queen of that.”

“You’re insane,” she says, but there’s no heat in her words.

I narrow my eyes at her. “I’m in love. There’s a difference.”

She laughs, the sound washing over me, warm and soothing.

“Right now, you rest,” I tell her, stroking her back. “But after, we’ll work something out to figure out how to get you ready so the veil can lift. I’m not going anywhere. I’m building a life with you here on Wintermoon.”

I continue, sharing the plans that have been forming in my mind. “I’m even considering building a technology center, helping the little shifters, witches, and warlocks at the Academy navigate in this new digital age. It’s going to keep evolving, and the children need to be ready for it.”

She smiles and leans up for a kiss, her lips soft against mine. “I love you,” she says, and my heart skips a beat at the words.

“I love you too,” I reply, my voice rough with emotion. “More than you know. And I felt the pull of the mate bond when you left for limbo.” I close my eyes, remembering the agony. “I pray I never feel that shit again. It felt like my heart was being ripped right out of me.”

She presses her hand to me, right over my heart. “Sorry,” she whispers.

“Next time, take me with you,” I tell her, only half joking.

She giggles and rests against me, her body warm and solid in my arms. “Taking my blood during the claiming process has allowed you to read spells,” she muses. “I wonder what else you can do?”

I grin at that, my arms tightening around her. “We shall see.”

As I hold her, I think about Tabatha, this mysterious Blackwood witch who changed everything for Carla.

From what Carla described, Tabatha was a powerful figure—her magic strong enough to bridge the gap between life and death, her wisdom deep enough to recognize Carla’s true nature even when Carla herself couldn’t see it.

Now trapped in limbo, she waits for Carla to accept her destiny.

I wonder what she saw in Carla all those centuries ago that made her choose her for such an important role.

But then again, I only needed one look at Carla to know she was extraordinary.

Perhaps Tabatha simply recognized what I now know with absolute certainty—that Carla’s strength and compassion make her perfect for a role beyond what either of us initially imagined.

Queen of Limbo. Guardian of the realms. My mate.