The Wolf Who Fought for His Soul Mate (19 page)

that, she could do nothing else. She released another furious howl as

invisible bindings pinned her against the floor, layer upon layer of

magical energy threatening to crush her under all the power.

Aria was well and utterly caught. The only advantage of her

current position was that she could see what was going on with the

others. Sadly, that didn’t bring her much encouragement, since it

seemed obvious that Tyrell was also losing the battle.

A blue circle glowed around him, much like the one he himself

had once summoned, but somehow, very different. His childlike

features were contorted with pain and fury. He no longer levitated, but

seemed completely focused on the strange Sidhe who had put Aria off

her guard.

Noah stood behind the powerful magic user, eyes closed and

muttering something under his breath. She didn’t know what Noah

could be doing, but somehow, she realized that the actual

confrontation was taking place purely between Tyrell and the Sidhe.

Information slipped into her mind, and she grasped that Tyrell’s

attacker was Sterling Tomacelli, the Sidhe king.

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Tyrell was a powerful warlock, but in the end, Sterling prevailed.

One particular spell had Tyrell slumped on the ground, defeated,

unable to speak or to move. Aria suppressed a smirk. It seemed that

she’d been right about one thing. These weaklings wouldn’t kill

Tyrell, which meant that eventually, the warlock would break free. It

might take a long time, but Aria could wait.

Much to her surprise, though, something else happened then. A

ghostly figure appeared next to Sterling, looking exactly as Tyrell. He

held onto Noah’s hand, looking confused and bewildered.

Tyrell—the one who had a physical form—gaped in disbelief.

“You can’t do this,” he shouted. “You can’t.”

Sterling smiled coldly, and terror flowed through Aria. “Oh, but I

can,” the Sidhe king replied. Turning toward the translucent boy, he

whispered something in the youth’s ear that Aria couldn’t hear.

Instantly, the child’s expression turned into a bright, but uncertain

smile. He nodded and released Noah’s hand.

The Sidhe king murmured another spell, and a flash of bright light

filled the room. Tyrell screamed, and Aria felt the moment the

different presence entered the warlock. This was the true owner of

Tyrell’s body, the child whose mind and soul had been banished when

Tyrell had chosen him as his vessel. Now, he was taking back what

legitimately belonged to him.

Tyrell tried to keep hold of his position within the child’s body,

but the youth had Sterling’s and Noah’s powers backing him up. Aria

sensed the moment when Tyrell lost the battle. Her vision blurred, and

her lungs started to seize. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t see. She

tried to cling to reality, to life, but as the child finally took his body

back, everything became lost, and her world melted into utter

darkness.

* * * *

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117

Paris knelt by his mother’s still form, checking her pulse. He

couldn’t sense it, and he couldn’t hear her heart beating. “Jace,” he

said in a choked voice. “I think she’s dead.”

He hoped to receive some sort of reassurance from his mate, but

instead, King Sterling spoke. “I’m afraid it couldn’t be helped. As she

was bound to Tyrell, her soul couldn’t withstand the shock when we

banished him from the body he had stolen. I would have warned you,

but she did have a chance. If she’d been stronger, if she’d had

someone else to anchor her, a person she truly loved, she could have

survived.”

At this point, Paris couldn’t really process Sterling’s words. He

felt a little numb. In his heart, he’d always hoped he could one day

redeem her. It might have been unreasonable, even treasonous, given

everything she had done. She had hurt his new family a lot. In spite of

everything he’d found out about her, a part of him hadn’t been able to

give up on that quiet wish.

Jace took him in his arms, shushing him.
“It’s okay, sweetheart.

You can grieve. She was your mother. It’s normal to feel pain.”

“I…I don’t know what to do, Jace,”
Paris sent to his mate.
“I

want to cry, but I can’t. I can’t be relieved, or hurt, or anything

really. I just don’t know.”

“Above all, you are loved, Paris,”
Jace told him.
“We’ll get over

this, together. She chose her own path, and you’re not to blame for

any of this.”

And therein lay the crux of the issue. In a way, Paris’s actions had

led Aria up to this point. Paris experienced a pang of guilt and

accepted it. Even so, as he thought back and ruminated over Jace’s

words, he realized that, in the end, Aria’s own actions had determined

her fate. It still hurt that he hadn’t been able to help her, and it

probably would for a while now. But useless guilt wouldn’t help. He

needed to tell his siblings and discuss what they would do with her

body.

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Shaking himself, Paris tried to focus on the rest of the room’s

occupants. King Sterling held the child who had once been Tyrell in

his arms. As if realizing he was being studied, the boy turned toward

Paris.

It was so strange to see the same face Paris had grown to associate

with Tyrell on a different person. However, Paris didn’t feel for a

minute that he was looking at Tyrell. The child’s eyes held an

innocence and an apprehension that called out to Paris and reminded

him of his own past.

Paris broke away from Jace’s arms and headed toward the boy

with Jace trailing behind him. “Hi,” he said. “I’m Paris, and this is my

mate, Jace. What’s your name?”

“I’m Daire,” the boy replied. “I’m lonely. Will you be my

friend?”

“I’d love to,” Paris answered. He stole Daire from Sterling’s arms

and kissed his forehead. “Don’t be afraid. You’re safe now. They

can’t hurt you anymore.”

As Daire cuddled close to him, Sterling tensed, much like he had

earlier that day. Paris was getting good at interpreting the Sidhe

king’s expressions and immediately inquired, “What is it? What’s

wrong?”

“It’s Winter,” Sterling said. “He’s giving birth.”

A blur of activity exploded all around them. Some of the guards

gathered the invading warlocks and witches and ushered them out.

Even if they seemed concerned about their prince’s condition, they

obeyed King Sterling’s every order, securing the remaining dangerous

elements. Meanwhile, Sterling rushed out of the room, leaving Paris

alone and confused as to what he was supposed to do.

Jace took the decision for him. Taking Daire from Paris, the other

wolf pulled Paris along, following right behind the Sidhe king. And as

he ran by his mate’s side, Paris found the strangest thing happening.

In spite of the pain still pulsing in his heart, there was also hope. A

new future lay in front of them, embodied by Daire and baby Lamont.

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119

It would be up to them to make sure that the story would not repeat

itself. This day marked an ending and a beginning, and Paris fully

intended to use the second chance he’d been given together with the

mate he loved so much.

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A rose landed on the coffin, then another and another, until six

flowers waited forlornly on the wooden surface. Then, the first

shovelful of earth followed, crushing the roses under its weight. Paris

supposed that, in a way, it was symbolic. Aria had been beautiful

once, but she had been destroyed by her own ambitions.

As he threw more dirt over his mother’s coffin, it seemed to Paris

that every motion was both painful and cathartic. He still wished he

could have helped her, but he understood that something had been

fundamentally wrong with her. A small part of him would always

grieve for her, but this was well and truly the end.

He wondered what his siblings were thinking. Up until this point,

they hadn’t talked too much beyond making arrangements regarding

Aria’s resting place. She had been brought to Marrow pack lands,

where the Alpha had decided on a location for her grave. Paris’s

brothers and sister seemed to have accepted Aria’s demise, but Paris

suspected it must be even harder for them than for him. At least he

could acknowledge the full extent of Aria’s deeds. In their case,

Alpha Marrow had most likely kept the gory details of what had

happened from them. What were they thinking now? Did they

understand the reasons of her death, or were they outraged and angry

that Elder Wade hadn’t protected her? He was their brother, the eldest

of them, but they had no real relationship, and he couldn’t bring

himself to ask.

“You have to make the attempt, sweetheart,”
Jace told him

through their bond.
“They’re in mourning, but so are you. Take the

first step. I know you can.”

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121

“I don’t think this is the right time,”
Paris replied. Their world

had been shaken, and unlike Paris, they didn’t have mates to steady

them, to provide them with comfort.

“They have each other and their father,”
Jace offered.
“And they

have you.”

Jace had a point, but Paris still wasn’t sure how to approach them.

They’d always rebuffed his every attempt of befriending them. He

would have to give the matter some further thought.

As he considered this, he and his siblings at last finished filling

the grave with dirt. Paris abandoned the shovel and stepped back, his

mind filled with questions. What now? It simply didn’t feel right to

just leave. He scanned the faces of those present, seeking answers.

Few people had come to Aria’s funeral. Mostly, the only

attendants were those who’d at one point been close to Aria—Alpha

Marrow, Paris, and his five siblings, as well as Jace, Paris’s father,

and Reed, who had joined them in a natural show of support. Elder

Wade and his mate were also here, something which Alpha Marrow

seemed to appreciate.

They’d kept the ceremony brief and private. None of her children

had known what to say. Alpha Marrow had refused to do so, as well,

so the elder had spoken instead. Now that it was all over, Paris wanted

go back to the mansion and meet up with the people who meant so

much to him. But at the same time, he felt like there was still

something he needed to do.

And then, Alissa took a step forward and left another rose on the

fresh mound of earth. She caressed the headstone and sighed. Her

lower lip trembled as if she wanted to weep and was forcing herself

not to.

Giles wrapped an arm around his twin’s waist, blankly staring at

the grave. They were the youngest of Aria’s children and would

probably be most affected by her death. Paris couldn’t help himself.

He had to tell them he shared their pain.

“It’s all right,” Paris said. “It’s okay if you want to cry.”

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For a few seconds, Alissa just stared at him. Paris half expected

her to push him away, but she did no such thing. Instead, she burst

into tears and hugged him tightly. On instinct, Paris returned the

embrace, caressing her hair. She didn’t speak, but when Giles joined

in the hug, he said, “Thanks. Thank you for being here for us. You’ve

always been kinder than we deserve.”

“Don’t say that,” Paris immediately shot back. “We’re siblings.

Of course we should be close. I just wish things could have been

different with…with her.”

Alissa stopped crying. She broke away from Paris and gave him

an earnest look. “Is it true that she tried to kill you?”

Paris nodded, but decided they probably didn’t want the details.

“She did, but it doesn’t matter anymore. That’s in the past. You have

to remember the good about her.”

“You’re very generous,” Tucker said from behind him. “I don’t

know if I could say that had I been in your shoes.”

“We’ve been thinking,” Hamilton added. “The six of us have