Page 13 of Forgotten Mate

Just then, he gasped in pain and bent overas far as he could.

She jumped up and hurried to his side.“Greyden?”

An agonized moan burst forward, and sweatimmediately dotted his forehead.

“I think that enchantress really downplayedhow much this was going to hurt.” His body stiffened and he closedhis eyes, trying to keep his breath even. Once the wave passed, heopened his eyes and stared at her. “Talk to me.”

“About what?”

“Whatever. I need to take my mind off what’shappening.”

“Okay,” she said, wracking her brain. “Um.Growing up I wanted to be a writer. I loved reading romance books,because they always had a happy ending.”

“And who doesn’t like a happy ending?”

“Precisely.” She smiled.

Another intense jolt of pain left himpanting.

“I think today might be the day I cry. Thisbetter break the fucking spell because I don’t want to go throughthis again.”

For the next twenty minutes or so, the paincame quicker than the last time and grew in intensity. Zenia felthelpless, and when he started to vomit, she grew scared. Thickblack goo, for lack of a better description, poured from his mouth.The muck undulated, morphing into different shapes. It lunged inher direction and she practically tumbled from the chair. In apanic, she ran to the stairwell and screamed for Savannah beforerushing back to Greyden’s side. He was covered in the black vomit,and it twisted around his legs, as if trying to scale him. Itlooked like it wanted to crawl back into his mouth. His eyes rolledback in his head, leaving only the white sclera visible It wasterrifyingly evil. Footsteps came running into the apartment andSavannah came to an abrupt stop.

Savannah threw a white powder at the sludge.An ear-piercing screech filled the room, but a moment later, itevaporated in a puff of black smoke. Greyden hung his head, eyesclosed. Then he started to convulse, his body shakinguncontrollably.

“Is this supposed to happen?” Zeniacried.

“No,” Savannah said. “I have to grab anantidote. I’ll be right back.”

She disappeared again and Zenia grabbedpaper towels trying to clean him up. The blood had drained from hisface, leaving him pale, and his hair dripped with sweat.

“Greyden,” she whispered. “Can you hear me?Greyden? Please, come back to me. We have an entire lifetime aheadof us, but only if you open your eyes.”

Savannah ran back into the kitchen with somered leaves in her hand. “Help me, Zenia. Take these and stuff asmany into his mouth as you can.”

Zenia took hold of them and franticallystuffed them into Greyden’s mouth. Savannah poured some clearliquid in her hand and slapped it on his forehead, muttering anincantation under her breath. For a few minutes, nothing happened,and then suddenly he dragged in a lungful of air and startedcoughing. Bits of the leaves fell out, falling to the floor likeobscene confetti. This time, silver sludge came spewing out of hismouth.

Savannah let out a shuddering breath ofrelief. “He’s going to be all right.”

“What the fuck happened to my clothes?”Greyden’s voice was shallow. He could barely open his eyes.

“Nothing a good cleaning can’t fix,” Zeniasaid, freeing him from the cords. Once released, he leaned into herand she held him tight, not caring his vomit was getting on her.She looked at Savannah. “What happened?”

“It’s not a simple spell,” she said. “Whatcame out of him was very dark, ancient magic. He’s not yet freefrom its hold. This is out of my scope of power. I’m going to needhelp.”

Chapter Eight

Zenia watched Greyden sleep. Jericho hadcome to help him walk, and the alpha had brought her mate into hishome. She came as well because she wouldn’t leave him. She sat nextto him, watching over him as he slept. Completely spent from hisordeal.

She’d never been so terrified in all herlife. The dark magic had wrapped around his soul, and Savannah saidit would take more than a potion to free him. This fake mate of hismust have paid a lot of money to enact such a travesty.

Through the night, she held vigil, bathinghis brow in a cool washcloth. Maybe he shouldn’t have come here andfound her. He wouldn’t have almost died, wouldn’t have beenstruggling with the moral dilemma of betraying his true moon-fatedmate. She forgave him, of course she did. He was as much a victimas she was.

When the dawn came, Jericho came into theroom to check on them.

“Did you sleep?”

“I was afraid to close my eyes.” She bit herlip. “I’ve been wondering if he should never have come here. Neverfound out the truth.”

---