Page 22

CHAPTER 22

B ella’s heart pounded as they approached Agatha’s cottage. The half-timbered building was perched at the edge of Vultor territory, surrounded by a lush garden overflowing with flowers and herbs. It looked exactly the way she remembered it, but everything else felt different. She was different.

She glanced at Malrik, who’d shifted more toward his Vultor form as they neared the edge of forest though his eyes still glowed faintly and his movements retained his usual predatory grace. He paused for a moment, nostrils flaring as he scanned their surroundings.

“It’s safe,” she assured him, squeezing his hand. “Agatha’s place is private. No one will see us here.”

He gave a terse nod but the tension in his body didn’t ease. “I smell him. Your father. He’s inside.”

She couldn’t suppress the wave of relief that washed through her. “Is he… can you tell if he’s well?”

His nostril flared and he tilted his head, considering. “Alive. Weak. Not dying.”

Not the most reassuring assessment, but better than the alternatives. Her steps slowed as she approached the door, suddenly nervous. What would her father think of her now? Of her choices? Of Malrik?

Before she could knock, the door swung open. Agatha stood there, silver hair pulled back in a practical bun. Her eyes traveled from Bella to Malrik, and then a broad smile crossed her face.

“Well,” she said after a moment. “You certainly don’t waste time, do you, girl?”

She blinked. “I… what?”

Agatha ignored the question and waved them in. “Come, come. Standing on my doorstep for all to see. In you go.”

Malrik ducked to enter the low doorway, his massive body making the cottage seem suddenly tiny. He stood awkwardly in the center of the main room, clearly uncomfortable with the confined space.

“Father?” she called, moving toward the back bedroom.

“Bella?” Her father’s voice, weaker than she remembered but undeniably his, sent another wave of relief through her. “Bella, is that you?”

She rushed into the bedroom to find her father propped up on pillows, his face pale but his eyes clear. He looked thinner, frailer, but his smile when he saw her was as bright as ever.

“You’re safe,” he breathed, reaching for her with trembling hands.

She crossed to him in three quick strides, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his shoulder. The familiar scent of machine oil mixed with Agatha’s herbs. He felt smaller in her embrace, but his arms tightened around her with reassuring strength.

“I was so worried,” he murmured against her hair.

“I’m fine, Papa,” she assured him, pulling back to look at him properly. “Better than fine, actually. I?—”

A shadow fell across the doorway, interrupting her words, and her father looked up, his face draining of what little color it had.

“Gods above,” he whispered, staring at Malrik. “You brought the beast with you. Why?”

Malrik remained in the doorway. She could tell he was doing his best to appear non-threatening, but he was too big and powerful to be anything else.

“Papa, this is Malrik,” she said as she went to join him. She put her hand on his arm and smiled up at him, and the tension in his shoulders eased slightly before she turned back to her father. “He’s the one who found you in the storm. He… he kept you safe.”

“Safe? He locked me in a tower!”

“To keep you out of the storm,” she said patiently. “He could have hurt you, but he didn’t. He took care of you until I arrived.”

Her father’s eyes darted between them, fear and confusion giving way to dawning understanding as he studied the two of them, his gaze going from their faces to her hand on Malrik’s arm.

“Bella,” he said slowly. “What’s going on here?”

She took a deep breath. “It’s complicated.”

“Uncomplicate it,” he demanded, his voice firmer now.

“I stayed to fix things at the keep, like I promised. But while I was there…” She glanced up at Malrik, who was watching her with those intense yellow eyes. “We formed a connection. A bond.”

“A bond. With a Vultor. With the beast who imprisoned me.”

“He was cursed, Papa. He’s been alone for years, trapped in his beast form. But when I came, something changed. He started to remember who he was.”

Her father shook his head, disbelief etched on his features. “Bella, do you hear yourself? This sounds like something from one of those ridiculous romances you and Tessa used to read.”

“I know how it sounds,” she admitted. “But it’s real. He’s real.” She turned to Malrik. “Can you show him? Show him who you really are?”

Malrik hesitated, then nodded. He closed his eyes, and she watched as the transformation took hold—fur receding, features shifting, becoming more defined, more Vultor. When he opened his eyes again, he almost looked like any other Vultor warrior, although hints of the beast remained.

Her father stared at him, speechless.

“I apologize,” Malrik said, his voice deep but clear, “for frightening you. For confining you. My beast… it doesn’t always understand human ways.”

“Your beast,” her father echoed. “You speak of it as separate from yourself.”

“It is and it isn’t. The curse fragments the mind. The beast takes control. But Bella…” He looked down at her with such tenderness that her heart ached. “She helped me remember. She brought me back.”

Her father studied them both, his engineer’s mind visibly working through the problem. “And this bond you mentioned?”

She knew she was blushing, but she met his gaze steadily. “We’re… together.”

“Together,” he repeated. “As in…?”

“As in I love him, Papa.”

The words hung in the air between them. She hadn’t planned to say it, but as soon as the words left her lips, satisfaction filled her.

Malrik’s sharp intake of breath made her look up. His eyes were wide, filled with wonder and something that looked suspiciously like hope.

“You love me?” he asked, so softly she almost didn’t hear it.

“Yes,” she said simply. “I do.”

For a moment, the room was utterly silent. Then her father sighed heavily.

“Well,” he said, “I suppose that complicates things.”

“Mr. Fletcher,” Malrik said, turning back to her father. “I know this is… unexpected. But I give you my word as a Vultor warrior that I will protect your daughter with my life.”

“Noble words,” her father said dryly. “But forgive me if I find them hard to trust, coming from the one who held me prisoner.”

“Papa—” she began, but Malrik raised a hand.

“He’s right to doubt,” Malrik said. “I’ve given him no reason to trust me. Only my actions can prove my intentions.” He looked directly at her father. “I love your daughter. She has brought light back into my existence. I would die before allowing harm to come to her.”

Her father held Malrik’s gaze for a long moment, then looked back at her. “And you’re sure about this? About him?”

She nodded. “More sure than I’ve ever been about anything.”

Her father closed his eyes briefly, then gave a resigned nod. “Then I suppose I’ll have to accept it.” He fixed Malrik with a stern look. “But if you ever hurt her?—”

“If I ever hurt her,” Malrik said solemnly, “I would welcome your vengeance.”

A dry chuckle from the doorway drew their attention. Agatha stood there, watching the exchange with evident amusement.

“Well, that’s all very dramatic,” she said. “Now perhaps you’d like to hear what I know about Vultor curses?”

“You know about the curse?”

Agatha snorted. “Child, I’ve lived alongside the Vultor for fifty years. I’ve forgotten more about them than most humans will ever know.” She moved into the room, shooing Bella toward a chair. “Sit. Both of you. This may take a while.”

She obeyed, but Malrik remained standing, his tall frame making the small bedroom feel even more cramped.

“The curse of the unmated,” Agatha began, “is as old as the Vultor themselves. As a Vultor male grows older, his beast grows stronger. Unless he finds a mate, it can consume him entirely. For some males that can take many years. For some it never happens. For others, especially those who are not open to the possibility of a mate, it can occur more rapidly.”

“That’s what happened to me,” Malrik said quietly. “I was… arrogant. I rejected many potential mates, believing none were worthy.”

“And then you were alone,” Agatha continued, “trapped in your beast form, unable to find your way back to yourself. Until Bella.”

“Until Bella,” he agreed, his eyes finding hers across the room. “But the beast is still strong. Still fighting for control.”

“A Vultor is not meant to live alone,” Agatha said tartly. “Being part of a pack will help your efforts to control your beast.”

“I was cast out of the pack.”

“As I recall, you never considered yourself part of it to begin with.”

She saw him wince, even as he nodded.

“I did not believe I needed a pack either.”

“And so Seren enforced the old ways,” Agatha said. “Cast you out until you learned humility.”

“We’re supposed to meet with him today,” she said. “He’s coming here.”

Agatha nodded approvingly. “Good. You must face him, acknowledge what you’ve learned.”

“And if he doesn’t accept it?” Malrik asked, his voice low.

“He will,” Agatha said confidently. “Seren is stern but fair. And I think you’ll find him much more… relaxed than usual,” she added, her eyes twinkling.

Malrik still looked uneasy and she went to join him at the door, smiling up at him. “And I’ll be there with you.”

“Bella, no,” her father protested. “It could be dangerous.”

“It won’t be,” she insisted. “Not if what Agatha says is true. And besides,” she added, looking up at Malrik, “we’re in this together now.”

Malrik’s expression softened as he looked down at her. “Together,” he agreed.

Her father watched them, a mixture of concern and resignation on his face. “I suppose there’s no talking you out of this?”

“None at all,” she said cheerfully.

“You’re just like your mother. Stubborn as a rock drill and twice as determined.” Her father looked at Malrik then nodded slowly. “She’d have liked you, I think. Once she got past the whole beast thing.”

“I would have been honored to meet her,” Malrik said quietly.

Her father nodded, then turned back to her. “Just… be careful. And come back to me. Both of you,” he added, including Malrik in his gaze.

“We will,” she promised. She moved to kiss her father’s forehead. “Rest now. We’ll talk more later.”

As they left the bedroom, Agatha pulled her aside. “The love you feel for him,” she said quietly, “it’s the key. Remember that when you face Seren.”

“I will,” she said. “Thank you, Agatha. For everything.”

The old woman waved dismissively. “Just doing what needs doing. Now go on, you two. You’ve got preparations to make.”

“What kind of preparations?”

Agatha’s eyes sparkled gleefully. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

She shooed them both out of the cottage before she could ask any more questions, and she gave Malrik a puzzled look.

“Do you know what she was talking about?”

He shook his head absently, then cleared his throat.

“What you said in there… about loving me…”

“I meant it,” she said firmly. “Every word.”

“Even knowing what I am? What I’ve been?”

“I love all of you, Malrik. The beast, the Vultor, everything in between. Just as you are.”

For a moment, he seemed unable to speak. Then he pulled her close, burying his face in her hair. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmured.

“Good thing it’s not about deserving,” she replied, wrapping her arms around him. “It’s about choosing. And I choose you.”