Page 69 of Heavy is the Crown
My head swims, and I stumble, the golden leash pulling taut as the party whirls in front of me. My mother moves forward, blocking me from the crowd as my body wobbles again. My limbs feel heavy and uncoordinated.
“What’s happening?” I slur, my tongue and mouth refusing to cooperate. I can’t seem to keep myself standing upright, and suddenly, I’m on my back on the cool marble floor.
“Oh, Ava. You never were bright. You really should learn to detect magic within things.” Her wicked smile is the last thing I see before the world goes dark.
Shadow
(“I Would Die for You” – In This Moment)
Weeks. That's how long it’s been since Ava was taken. Weeks of torment, feeling her down that bond until last night, when she was suddenly cut off from us, the feeling like a rusted piece of metal stabbing me in the heart. But that was nothing compared to the agonized scream of Drago as he collapsed to the ground, finally succumbing to all the feelings he had been trying to keep locked down. Whereas I’ve felt too much my whole life and tried to numb it out, Drago has always locked his emotions away, and the sudden cut off from Ava cracked that box wide open, flooding him with everything.
I push my hand into my pocket, feeling the crumpled-up piece of paper I’ve carried around with me ever since I found it, addressed to me. She knew what would happen if she was taken, and yet, she still let it happen. She knew how Drago would fall apart, and how it would be up to me to keep us afloat. Even if Ava hadn’t left us those fucking letters, making me promise to watch over Drago, I still would be.
I look over to him where he stands in the frost-covered forest next to Astrea and Ciaran. His hair is a mess since he can’t seem to stop pushing his hands through it. His normal dress pants and shirt have been discarded for sweats and a hooded sweatshirt. He looks beautifully wrecked, and it shatters my already broken heart.
We will get her back, my dragon growls. No argument in his tone.
I know.
Because there is no alternative for Drago and me. We either get her back or die trying. We won’t be leaving Hell without her. Which is exactly why we find ourselves standing outside in the freezing morning air as we wait for Jackson to portal in. Drago had been hesitant to involve Astrea and Ciaran, but we don’tstand a chance without them, which I reminded him of. He isn’t happy about it.
Glancing over at the two, I can’t blame him entirely. They are both different, their energy shifted, even outside the fact that Ciaran hid being from Hell.
Samhain lets out a caw as he flutters down onto my shoulder, the familiar suddenly attached to me now that Ava is gone. Another caw echoes through the woods, which have gone eerily quiet. A warning. We all go on high alert, each pulling our magic up and at the ready.
The air shimmers as a portal opens in front of us, and I see familiar blond hair come into view. Jackson is followed closely by another man with rich toffee skin covered in whirls of tattoos, and when his blue and green eyes lock onto me, I let out a hiss.
“El Dador de la Muerte.The Giver of Death,” Drago rumbles, and I don’t have to look to see that he’s starting to shift slowly.
A soft chuckle comes from the newcomer. “Hola, Drago.” He nods toward me. “Shadow.”
“What are you doing here, Dios?” I ask, my eyes bouncing between the two men. They seem oddly familiar with one another. Dios, or as most know him,El Dador de la Muerte, is part of the Primal Knights MC. Last we heard, he was Demon’s sergeant at arms. What he was doing with the king of Hell was a mystery to me and worrying.
Jackson steps forward, angling his body almost in front of Dios. “He’s with me.”
Astrea moves forward, Onyx snaking around her in his shadow form. Ciaran moves to grab her, but she brushes him off. “How do you two know each other?” She may not know who Dios is, but like calls to like. Her power would recognize someone similar.
Dios offers her a chilling grin, but it’s Jackson who answers. “It doesn’t matter. And he is helping us for now.”
“Helping us with what?” Drago asks. His voice is low, but the fury and grief are thick within it. My heart breaks a little more as I watch my normally stoic mate finally start to crumble.
“Rescuing my sister,” Jackson starts. “And getting my gods damn kingdom back.”
“You’re lucky we don’t gut you right here,” Drago says.
Jackson looks us over, cocking his head to the side. “Ah. Did she tell you, then?”
Drago lets out a snarl that is more animal than man and has me stepping forward without thought. “Drago.” I cut him a sharp look, angling my body between him and Ava’s brother before focusing back on Dios and the king. “She didn’t tell us anything except that we couldn’t kill you. Which, as you can see, is testing the limit of control that we have.”
I watch his fingers start to tap his leg before he shakes out his hand in a quick motion. Dios’s eyes track the movement, too, and I watch the shifter lean in and whisper something. Jackson flushes and clears his throat. “Look, nothing changes. We need to get her out. That’s all that matters—but to do that, we need to get you all into Hell.”
THIRTY-NINE
A Heat Cycle is unbearable for the individual without use of the ritual.
Their bodies are anxious to channel the magic.
They will need sexual release during this time.
