Page 115 of When Shadows Dream: Shadow Hounds

“Hey guys, did you know Australia is home to a huge number of some of the most deadly and dangerous animals on earth? You might want to be careful, those sticks and branches might just be snakes in disguise, boys,” Jezzie trilled, smiling.

In an awesome show of great timing a branch lashed out to bite at Athon’s arm. “Argh,” he practically squealed as he leaped sideways, straight into Nithe’s unprepared arms. Nithe hadn’t yet gotten comfortable with uncontrolled and unexpected contact with others, only Jezzie, but progress was being made with Athon. Nithe quickly set Athon back on his feet after calming his frayed nerves. Good thing too, because Jezzie was too busy laughing her ass off.

“Fuck! Jez, was that really necessary, a stór?” Nithe chided.

“Yeah, what the fuck, babe? I just about had a heart attack. I mean, if an angel ever could have one of those I’d have been roast on toast,” Athon added, before he gasped and silence reigned. Not that she noticed at first.

“Umm, Jez, sweets,” Athon loudly whispered. “Stand very still. There’s a huuuge fucking spider in your hair.” Nithe stood beside him nodding along frantically.

“Uh-huh, sure there is.” She winked. They were obviously trying to get back at her. They knew she hated spiders more than any other creature. All those legs and eyes. She wasn’t going to fall for it. There was no spi— The feel of something as it moved out of her hair onto her forehead froze her in shock. Outwardly she was a statue, but inside she was freaking the fuck out in a major way. The memory of Tim Dennison’s pet tarantula crawling up her six-year-old arm from where he’d hidden it in her backpack made black spots dance through her vision.

Athon picked up a large stick and slowly made his way toward her.

“Wh-what are you going to do with that thing?” Jezzie stammered out, her voice quivering.

“Well, after that little scare you gave me I could very well just try to squash the creepy thing into a gooey, bloody mess on your face . . . But since I love you so damn much, and doing so would probably cause a head injury we don’t have time to deal with, I’m just going to try to flick it off,” replied Athon, sarcasm thick in his suddenly gruff voice.

The look on Ath’s face brought her back to herself, hard and fast. The instant the spider was gone and Athon stepped back she threw herself into his arms and tried to calm her racing thoughts.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, Ath. I don’t know what’s happening to me at the moment. My brain’s all over the place and I’m just so fucking scared. I didn’t mean to turn into such a bitch. Are you okay?”

“Don’t stress, Jez. If I know Roth, and I do, he weaved a light layer of confusion into his illusion. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Almighty’s own power didn’t infuse this thing. On humans and civilians it just makes them walk away, on our kind it can have varied effects. Apparently it brings out your inner bitch.” Athon’s hand glided over her hair and down to the base of her spine, the repetitive movement soothing her immensely.

They walked another twenty minutes in silence before a flash of vibrant blue feathers caught Jezzie’s eye, and she paused to observe the small black, white, and blue bird as it perched delicately on a thicket of brambles. It didn’t stay still long and was soon joined by a small brown-hued bird of a similar, if not the same, subspecies. They started to flit and flutter about, as if engaging in an intricate dance mid-flight, not a care in the world. Playful, that’s what they were. Jezzie couldn’t help but smile at the simple joy of watching them, a giggle escaped her at their antics. They seemed so in tune with each other and their surroundings. Something Jezzie was not familiar with these days. Athon and Nithe were amazing, but without Roth it was like a limb had been severed, and they hadn’t learned to live without it yet. She wasn’t sure she ever could.

Athon felt it as strongly as she did, Nithe too, to a lesser extent. They’d had long conversations, even longer snuggle times, devising ways to get him back, to convince him to stay. All to no avail. Until now. This was their chance. Suddenly she found each of her hands clasped in a gentle grip. One on each side, both cradling her close.

When Jezzie and the guys finally continued on down the unused path to pass by the cheeky birds that had alighted onto a thin branch, side by side they cocked their tiny heads curiously at the interlopers in their home, before swooping down into the underbrush together, and out of sight.

They eventually came to a small clearing, a wooden cabin stood blocking their path. A sweaty and fed up Jezzie paused, hand raised to knock on the door.

She wanted, no, needed her mates to feel joy in their love, in the bond they had. Not just with her but with each other as well. To feel whole and complete. All of them. Roth was hers as much as she was his, and it was about time the stubborn assed doofus realized their bond, their love, was forever. And there wasn’t a damn thing he or that bitch Mara could do about it!

Well, apparently there was something he could do about it. He could refuse to open the fucking door, or he’d already abandoned his little hideaway and Leraie was wrong as to his whereabouts. Where the hell was he? Not like he couldn’t just pop away to anywhere he wanted to on a whim . . .

Oh, wait. Yes he could. Why hadn’t they planned for this?

Chapter 49

Where the fuck was he? He should be here. Surely Leraie would’ve known if he’d left. What if he’d known when they crossed the barrier? What if he’d fled their impending arrival? Where would he have gone? Should they have stayed away?

Thoughts and questions flew through Athon’s mind so fast he felt as if he'd lost his mind. He became blind to the door before them, a vortex of soundless negativity flooded his being until he thought he’d be sick from the void left by his shrinking, shriveling heart.

A sharp tug pulled at his arm. His vision cleared, his heartbeat resumed in his chest as he gulped in some much-needed air. Not that he couldn’t survive without it, but it would be an unpleasant experience to say the least. His chest expanded and the weight lifted as his ears rejoined reality and he heard what Jezzie had already noticed.

From deep in the wooded area behind the cabin came the rhythmic thunk of something being struck. He listened closer, after the thunk came a crack and a softer thunk.

Jezzie tugged at his arm again, and they followed the noises from the porch, around the cabin, and into the trees. Light struggled to break through the canopy of branches and leaves, sound from the outside world became muffles, and the musty, earthy smell of damp soil and rotting leaves and moss filled their noses.

Athon’s feet stopped moving, his eyes transfixed on a shirtless Roth. Sweat glistened on his exposed torso, the muscles of his back and arms bulged and rippled with every swing of the ax as it lifted above his head and came down with a thunk and a crack on the timber blocks. As they hit the ground, Roth picked them up and tossed them onto one of the many piles of firewood littered around him. He’d clearly been out there a while, judging by how many trees he’d felled.

Athon felt fingers under his chin. He looked at Nithe as the male lifted his and Jezzie’s chins from their slack-jawed positions, amusement dancing in his eyes as he indicated Athon should wipe the drool from the corner of his mouth. Jezzie gulped in some air and leaned against him as if weak in the knees, and he knew just how she felt. Roth was and always would be a devastatingly handsome male, but naked and sweaty he was the epitome of a fantasy come to life.

Roth straightened his back, lifted the ax above his head, then stopped. Frozen for a second as he seemed to register the shift in the atmosphere and was pulled out of his hyper-focused state. He turned, ax lowering, his eyes alighting on them. Athon swore he could see the longing in Roth’s gaze, his body shifting closer to them. The four of them were locked in a state of mesmerized want. A need so strong Jezzie shifted forward on unsteady feet. He saw her lick her lips, her nostrils flared as if taking in the flavor and smell of him, and she probably was. He felt a ripple along the bond they shared.

His longing smells so sweet, like nectar bursting on my tongue. Jezzie’s silent words came just before the scent and taste of Roth’s feelings flowed into his senses. A split second later they turned to ashes and bitterness as Roth’s eyes filled with hostility.

“What are you doing here? I thought I made my feelings perfectly clear already.” He spat his annoyance their way, his eyes locked on Athon’s.

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