Page 4 of The King

“I. Will Not. Give. Up.”She growled.

“Me neither,”Eden agreed with a grumble.

“Thank the Goddess, you’re back.”

"Yeah, well, thank me later. We are getting out of this, no matter what's on the other side."

"I'll second that."

Forcing one metaphysical foot in front of the other, the determined duo trudged through wave after wave of viscous, impenetrable, all-encompassing unconsciousness. Ettie knew it wasn't the Wild Magic that had caused her original incapacitation, and neither was it what they were fighting.

No, the Wild Magic felt natural, organic, and alive, although highly irritated and absolutely looking for vengeance. It came from the Light and would always belong to what was good and right in the universe. It wanted nothing more than to return home - or, at the very least, find a reasonable facsimile. It wasn't destructive or malicious. No, it was just as lost as she was.

But the force, the sheer magnitude of whatever was keeping her in such a deep sleep, well, that bastard was anything but natural – and there was absolutely no doubt it was malicious.

Another flash of Wild Magic slid down her arm, then up again. Traveling over her shoulder and onto her back, it sought to touch her heart and soul from a different direction.

The combination of abhorrent, unnatural crap shoved into her body and the Wild Magic trying to connect with her own was once again devastating. It was worse than being locked up, held in silver shackles, whipped with a cat-of-nine-tails, and strung up on a rack. Yes, she'd been through all that and more in her many years. It was also worse than being exhausted after traversing the Annapurna Massif in Nepal or dealing with her family on any given holiday. Still, nothing she'd ever experienced prepared her for what was happening at that very moment.

"I. Will. Do. This."

"Yes, you will, mo bhràthar. I believe in you,"the lyrical voice that had just appeared out of the Ether and popped into her mind reassured."Unfortunately, I cannot help."

2

THREE DAYS EARLIER - A FEW MINUTES LATER

"Well, hello to you, too, Amigo," the King of the Big Cats smirked even as Casimiro, the Black Panther with whom he shared his soul, growled,“Something is not right. It's the middle of the afternoon, and they're leaving the diner? Something is definitely…”

“Yes, I can feel it. But patience, Old Friend. Let them speak.”

"No, that's not what I meant. I was just…" Heath quickly responded, then stopped short. Knocking back the tawny Stetson on his head with a tap of his knuckle on the inside of the brim as his Mate looked over his shoulder, the youngest Guardsman of the MacAllen Clan inhaled sharply then immediately blew out the breath. "Sorry, man. Like I said, that's not what I meant. Of course, I'm glad to see you. Hell, I'm thrilled. It's just that… Well, that's to say that… I mean…"

"He means that I just got a call from Ettie –on the phone.” To add even more emphasis to her declaration, Maggie Mae Sampson-MacAllen, one of the Twin Alphas of the Sampson Pack, Mate to the youngest MacAllen Dragon, and averygood friend to his Mate, came from behind Heath, stopped two steps in front of Max, and with her hands out in front accentuating every word, added, "On. A. Land. Line. Not even her cell. Your Mate called me on a landline."

"I see," the King nodded, keeping a tight hold on his warring emotions and those of the Panther with whom he shared his soul. "And this is unusual for Bridgette?"

He hated to ask, but since his rather obstinate Mate had yet to accept that they were meant to be together and, hence, had never called him, Max had no point of reference. Actually, it was putting it lightly to say that Bridgette had refused to accept him and the plan the Universe and The Powers That Be put into play even before they were born. It was more accurate to say that she adamantly and strenuously avoided him at all costs and refused to acknowledge his existence unless absolutely forced, even when they were standing side-by-side.

Being a man of Latin descent and often referred to as suave and debonair, Max was shocked at her absolute rejection, but he was not deterred. He had seen the fire in his Mate's eyes and knew Destiny would not be denied. He knew she was the woman made for him and was sure he could make her see reason.

However, he’d been wrong – seriously wrong.

Every attempt he made to forge a connection was shot down, burnt to the ground, and obliterated. Even the simplest gesture, flowers on Bridgette's birthday, were returned without so much as a note telling him to 'get lost.'

They’d fought in the same battles. Saved their friends and family from the same foes. Hell, they’d even celebrated those victories in the same place. But only once had Bridgette even acknowledged his existence.

And what an acknowledgment it had been. It gave Max hope and reassured him that The Powers That Be did not make mistakes.

Reliving the details of their latest victory with several of the Dragon Guardsmen, an alluring perfume unlike any other demanded his attention. The spring-like floral scent of lilacs, the crisp touch of a winter's breeze, the icy-cool, woodsy aroma of mountain spruce, and the earthy citrus bouquet of forest moss awoke his senses, made his heart beat faster and forced Casimiro to stand at attention.

“She is here,” the Panther King with whom he shared his soul declared, his tone deep and resonant, more of a baritone grumble that rumbled in the depths of Max’s soul.

His body turned of its own volition. His eyes took in the splendor that was his Mate. Standing with her cousins, Bridgette was the brightest of the seven, outshining some of the most beautiful women The Powers That Be had ever put on the Earth.

Her very being was a beacon to his soul. And when their eyes met – it was nothing short of Magical.

Moving across the room, he only saw her. Taking her outstretched hand, they move together without words.

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