Alpha Erased (Alpha Girls Book 9) Page 12

  I was lost and alone and terrified that I would never see her again.

  Please let this work.

  Michael had taken Axel out on a run tonight. Axel wasn’t handling any of this very well. Every time we hit a dead end, he ended up losing control of his wolf. He’d destroy something or shift and be unable to shift back to human for days, or start a fight for no reason. The last was the most problematic. If he didn’t get control and keep it, then…

  I didn’t want to think about what would happen to him.

  I couldn’t think about that. Not right now.

  I was lying in the center of a ring of salt. Candles burned around me. Eleven of the strongest werewolves, fey, and witches held hands. The new council was together, but it felt broken without her. She was our center. She was the tie that unified us. She was the key to it all. And if she wasn’t here, was there even a council?

  They said the words together. They’d been practicing this for days, and in order for it to work, their power needed to hit me and my bonds at the same time. If they timed it right, then the dark, sludgy magic that had infected my bonds would go. And if that worked, then maybe the magic that hid my mate bond from me would thin or even break.

  It was a lot of ifs, and I hadn’t had a lot of luck lately.

  God. Tessa liked to talk about her shit luck, but damn it if I needed some good luck to hit her now. To hit us.

  I tried not to listen to the words as their voices grew louder. I let the chanting fade into the background while I stared up at the stars, waiting for something to change.

  Suddenly everything was quiet.

  They’d finished, but I didn’t feel anything. No power. No magic. Not even the faintest twinge along my bonds.

  I closed my eyes, waiting, hoping, praying that something had changed.

  “Do you feel anything?” Claudia’s voice had me sitting up. She stepped forward, and I knew she was worried that it hadn’t worked. Because this wasn’t the first time she’d tried a spell. This wasn’t even the first time we’d tried a spell with all eleven—twelve counting me—remaining council members.

  Lucas stepped up to his mate, holding her hand. “Anything at all? Any change?”

  I shook my head, and there were a few curses and grunts and then silence.

  I wanted to scream with frustration, but these were my friends. They were trying the best they could to fight the magic that they had no way of fighting. “No change at all.” I forced my voice to stay steady.

  “Try again. Maybe it’ll take a second for the spell to damage the magic on your bonds.” Chris stepped into the circle. “Tessa’s your True Mate. What you have can’t be broken. It’s still there. It has to be.” He was close with Tessa, and the fact that we couldn’t find her weighed on him almost as much as it did on Axel and me.

  I’d been jealous of Chris and Tessa at first, but then I saw what was really between them.

  They were friends. Maybe even best friends. I was sure that would piss off Meredith. She’d fight him for the title, but it was true. And I was sure that Axel would want in on that fight. He’d been her best friend—her only friend—until I bit her.

  But I wasn’t alone here. It wasn’t just me feeling desperate about finding her. It was Chris. It was Axel. It was Claudia. It was all of us. Tessa changed our lives in such a massive way that none of us would stop fighting to find her.

  I saw the desperation in Chris’s eyes as they went from human glass-blue to the bright electric of his wolf.

  “Okay. I’ll try again.” I closed my eyes and pictured all the bonds. I found the pack. My friends. A few of my family in France. But the one shiny, glittering, glowing golden rope that tied me to my mate was gone. There was nothing there.

  Nothing. There.

  Just an empty void where my bond should’ve been.

  I shook my head as I opened my eyes. “What do we do now?” I asked, hoping that someone would have an idea.

  Everyone started looking back and forth among themselves, but no one said a word. They didn’t say a word because they didn’t need to.

  We were at an end. An impasse that was thicker, higher, tougher than any of us could fight.

  They needed to keep doing what the council needed to do—to fight against evil, to keep the supernaturals from war, to keep this realm safe from the demons beyond.

  But I couldn’t do any of that.

  Not anymore.

  Not without her.

  They might be giving up, but I wasn’t. I’d find another way.

  I wasn’t sure where I’d go from here, but wherever I went, I’d do it alone.

  Chapter Eleven

  DASTIEN

  One Hundred Thirty-Five Days Missing

  The candles in the small chapel flickered. The monks chanted. The scent of the incense—frankincense, myrrh, and rose—was so thick that I couldn’t smell anything else. Being cut off from the depth of scent I was used to made me feel like I’d lost myself and my surroundings. But it would be worth it if it worked.

  Except it wasn’t working.

  The Greek icons—saints and Jesus and Mary—all painted with gold leafing stared down at me. The men in their black robes wandered around, singing their prayers, calling in the angels for help.

  After the last council spell failed, I left Texas. I didn’t wait for Michael and Axel to come back from their run. Both of them would’ve tried to stop me, and I wasn’t sure I could go against an order from Michael anymore.

  I didn’t listen to my friends pleading with me to give it another shot. They would redo the spell tomorrow with some additional steps, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t take the pity and sorrow and guilt over having failed again.

  They couldn’t help me. Not anymore. And things were happening in the world that they needed to deal with. Humans rising up against supernaturals. The fey’s growing aggression against the werewolves. Chaos seemed to be springing up everywhere. They couldn’t fix that and help me at the same time.

  It was time for me to figure this out myself.

  Tessa was my mate. The other half of my soul. It was time for me to find her in my own way.

  I went to France first. I needed a plan, but nothing seemed to make sense. So, I wandered around for a bit, searching for Tessa in every face I passed. I let my gut guide me and took it on faith that sometime, somewhere fate would end up pushing us together again.

  It’d happened once. It’d happen again. I just had to keep looking.

  Eventually, I ended up in Greece. I couldn’t remember how I got there, but Thomas—a lone wolf I met on the road—told me about a monastery. He said that the monks there glowed in the dark when they prayed. Glowing monks sounded like some powerful magic to me.

  So, I found the monastery. The monks let me in, listened to my story, and they let me stay.

  I’d been here for two months. I’d fasted. Prayed. Hoped that God would answer my prayers. Or that maybe Eli would show up and tell me where Tessa was. That he’d have mercy on me. The same mercy that had been shown to Shannon.

  Michael filled me in when I called—which I tried to do every other day. Shannon was back with Meredith and Donovan, paying her penance there. Michael didn’t tell me where Imogene was or what happened to her, but that was probably for the best. If I knew, I might’ve gone hunting.

  Maybe that’s why Eli hadn’t come. I’d begged the archon to come in my head over and over, but he hadn’t shown. Maybe I was being punished for not giving a shit about Imogene.

  I thought I’d lived my life well. I’d spent my life—risked my life—to protect everyone from evil. But I guessed that didn’t matter. Otherwise, why would this be happening? Why were so many powerful supernaturals completely unable to undo this stupid spell?

  The incense burned my lungs, but I breathed deep. Hoping that today—this day—something would change.

  But nothing changed. Nothing ever changed.

  I wasn’t sure if God was listening to me. Not even among his monks
on top of a mountain in Greece.

  I was starting to think that if there was a God, then he hated me.

  But why would God do this to Tessa?

  She was sweet and innocent and good. She would argue against all of those points, but that didn’t mean they were less true.

  I’d been so alone before, and then I wasn’t. And it was so good. Beyond good. It had been amazing. A dream. My dream.

  But now I was alone and without hope.

  This wasn’t helping. It wasn’t working, and that meant it was time to do something else. Time to try something else.

  I’d thank the monks, and I’d leave tonight.

  I’d find another way.

  I had to find another way.

  She was out there somewhere, and it was my job to find her.

  So, that’s what I’d do.

  I just wasn’t sure how.

  One Hundred Fifty-Seven Days Missing

  The room was crowded. People came from around the world to practice yoga with this master. Meredith said that maybe yoga would help. She was a firm believer in the practice, and maybe some meditation would help me find my mate bond. It was there inside me, locked up tight, but clarity might help me reach it. She booked me at a retreat in Rishikesh, India. So, I went.

  Meredith gave me a valid argument that I listened to about half of, but I did it. Anything was worth a try. I put myself in strange poses—different from any other poses I’d done before and held them until my arms and legs were shaking—for ten hours a day. And then meditated for the rest of the day. During the occasional free times, I ran in my wolf form through hiking trails or sat by the Ganga River and thought about where she might be or think of some other way to find her.

  I got here nearly two weeks ago. Spending most of the day in a room stinking of sweat and filled with too many people made it hard for me to eat at night. After fasting with the monks, I wasn’t sure there was much muscle left for me to lose. But I stayed because I needed to do something. To keep trying. I wasn’t giving up.

  I couldn’t give up.

  Except it might be time for me to give up on this.

  As the yogi was guiding us into another meditation, I couldn’t take one more second. My wolf surged. Urging me to move. To fight. To stop this nonsense.

  To eat.

  And he was right.

  I’d tried this.

  I’d meditated.

  I’d done the poses.

  But it wasn’t working.

  There was no flicker along my bond. No sign of my mate. Nothing to give me hope that I’d find her by staying one second longer in this hot, stinky, sweaty room.

  I got up, ignoring the yogi calling after me. He walked through the mats to get to me, but I moved faster. He’d been nice, but I didn’t have it in me to explain.

  I left my stuff behind. My mat. My clothes. My phone.

  I didn’t need anything. I just had to go.

  As soon as I was outside, I shifted into my wolf, and I ran.

  So Many Days Missing

  I ran as a wolf and hunted my way across endless miles of land. Days and nights passed, and I didn’t keep track of them. I kept moving.

  When I met a fellow werewolf, I’d shift. I’d take their hospitality. But when I was out of my mind, I let my wolf take control.

  I ran all the way from India to my home in France. I didn’t mean to end up there. I just suddenly stopped running and looked up to see my house—the house I’d been born in, lived in, until my parents died.

  The caretaker called after me as I ran inside—shifting as I moved—to get clothes.

  My wolf had taken me home, and for a moment, I thought that it would work. That this place would heal me enough so that I could find a way to see beyond my despair, pain, loss, anger, and fear—and fix the bond.

  So, I ate, rested, healed as much as I could without her. But the constant searing pain in my soul wouldn’t stop.

  Tessa had been happy in France. It might’ve been the last place she’d been truly happy. Before the beach where she nearly drowned. Before the battle with Astaroth. Before months and months of battles against fey and demons and vampires.

  France was the last time I’d seen her carefree.

  It was the only time I’d ever seen her carefree and truly at one with herself.

  I wanted to go back in time. To relive those two weeks over and over again. But I couldn’t.

  And she wasn’t here.

  I’d roll over in bed every morning expecting her to be there, and when she wasn’t, the pain was too much.

  So I had to leave.

  I had to leave.

  But I had nowhere else to go.

  I was lost.

  Too Many Days Missing to Count or Hope or Dream Anymore

  I left France as human and decided it was safer for everyone I came into contact with if I stayed human. I stuck to wilderness mostly, and three days ago, I came across a mountain.

  I wasn’t sure what mountain it was or where I was—and it didn’t matter—but I started climbing. I wasn’t sure why I did it. Maybe part of me hoped that if I was high enough in the sky, I could get a direction—a feel—for where Tessa was.

  Wandering hadn’t worked. Whatever fate had brought us together the first time wasn’t happening again. I didn’t have magic. There was no one to fight. There was literally nothing for me to do, and I couldn’t make myself come to terms with that.

  She was out there, and I had to give up? Go on with my life? How? How was I supposed to do that?

  I wasn’t sure what else to do, so I kept climbing until I reached the top. And then I sat amid the snow.

  The sun was setting and more snow was falling in a soft blanket around me. I was wearing weather-appropriate attire—an impossibly thick coat, two layers under the snow pants, thermal boots, gloves, hat, scarf. All the things that made my wolf feel like it was suffocating.

  The thin air wasn’t helping with that feeling either. Every breath I took seemed harder to take than the one before it. But I was a werewolf. I was strong enough to live in the worst conditions. This wouldn’t kill me.

  I was starting to wonder what I was living for. What I was doing. Nothing worked. And I was beginning to question if she was still alive. If she was really my True Mate. Maybe she was only just my mate, and the rest came from how powerful we both were. And if that were true, then she could be dead and I wouldn’t know it.

  My wolf was in mourning, and now, finally, I had to admit, so was I.

  My bond was gone.

  My mate was gone.

  But I was still here—still alive—when I should be dead.

  When I wanted to be dead.

  “It’s much too cold for me to stay here very long.” The voice was familiar and friendly with a tease in his tone.

  I’d been alone for the entire climb up, and I would’ve been able to see anyone approaching.

  Which meant it could only be one person.

  I looked up slowly to see Van. “Feel free to leave.” My tone wasn’t even a quarter as friendly as his had been.

  “No.” He sat beside me, but he wasn’t wearing the right gear for it. His pants weren’t thick enough. His coat wasn’t down. He’d freeze before long, if the fey could freeze. “I think we’ve left you alone long enough.”

  Fine. Then he could freeze.

  Unless… “Have you found—”

  “No. We know who did it. There was a witch from the New York coven who had a grudge against Claudia. And then three fey, one of which was Helen. One is dead. The other we can’t find. We have to assume she’s wherever Tessa is. And since there’s no way I can coerce Helen to tell me where she put Tessa, we’re at an impasse. But I have confirmation that she’s alive. Helen spilled that much to a fey that paid their bargain to me with that bit of information.”

  “Where—”

  “I don’t know. Helen wouldn’t tell them. I’ve done my best. But I know for a fact that she is unharmed somewhere on this earth.”<
br />
  Then that didn’t help me. Not really. I was relieved to know that she was alive, but with no way to find her, I was just as lost and alone as I had been five minutes ago. “I wish that were enough. I wish I didn’t feel my wolf slipping away. I’m fading, and I can’t seem to—”

  “I had a wife.” Van’s words stopped my own. “A family.”

  Had. Past tense. I looked at him, curious enough to want to know more, but I also wasn’t sure where he was going with this. He had to be telling me for a reason—probably to tell me to keep going—but I wasn’t sure I had the patience to listen to any kind of emotional, motivational speech. Especially not one about how I should move on with my life. Forget Tessa. Start living again.

  Fuck that. Fuck forgetting her. That wasn’t happening.

  He was staring off at the horizon. It was beautiful—the clouds below us were light and fluffy and colored with the oranges, pinks, and golds of the faded sun. The fading sun was behind us, giving the illusion of some heat.

  “Unlike you, I have no hope for my wife,” Van said after a while. “I held her body as she bled out, until her eyes were glassy with death. And you might think that it was easier than what you’re going through right now. But it’s not. It’s really not.”

  “I’m sorry.” I couldn’t imagine anything harder than what I was already going through, but that—that—had to be harder. I’d glimpsed a bit of it when I pulled Tessa’s body from the water on our honeymoon. She’d been under a magical attack and almost drowned. Almost, but didn’t.

  I don’t know what I’d do if I held Tessa’s lifeless body. If I watched her die.

  No. I knew what I would do.

  I would die.

  “It’s been more than a thousand years, and I’m still not over the loss. I don’t think I ever will be. But you have hope.” He moved so fast, I didn’t see it. Suddenly he was squatting in front of me, with his hands gripping my shoulders. “You’re focusing on the fact that she’s gone, but not that she’s still out there. She is still out there. Do you think she’d be happy with what you’re doing to yourself? You’re thin. Weak. Fading. You couldn’t take anyone in a fight now.”