Page 56 of Secrets of Avalon

I release Melinda, shoving her behind me and lunge at my brother. "He wouldn't do that to me!" The growl rips free as I grab Destrien by the collar and slam him against the unforgiving stone wall. His head cracks against the surface, but his eyes remain angrily locked with mine.

Destrien's fangs descend. He hisses back in my face. "Let me go. This isn't you talking, brother–it's the darkness clouding your mind." He shoves both hands against my chest, but I don't release my grip. "You're not thinking clearly about the consequences here. Father intends to use this engagement to solidify our family’s influence with the High Council. You need to know what’s coming. You need to be prepared."

A part of me rages that this isn't some feral impulse, but the rest cannot be so sure anymore. My father can't marry me off to Vencia... not when my mate is right here. I have Melinda.

Melinda. Where’s Melinda?

I whirl away from Destrien, my hands coming up empty. I scan the corridor wildly. "Melinda?" I growl out the summons, baring my fangs at the formidable form of Kellan looming in the shadows a few yards away. Her presence whispers at the edges of my senses, but I cannot pinpoint the source. She’s close. I can feel her. My vision tunnels as that terribly familiar darkness begins encroaching. "Where is she? Give her back!"

Kellan doesn't flinch, regarding me with a maddeningly cold, steady gaze. One bushy brow arches slightly. "Is this truly what you wish for, Princeling? To allow your baser instincts freedom to scare your mate?"

The words explode inside my skull like shrapnel, each jagged syllable shredding through the haze of primal fury gripping me. Melinda...my mate. My everything. Panic ratchets its way up my throat. Visions of Melinda's horrified face, of her recoiling from the monster I've allowed to surface, assault my imagination.

I suck in a ragged breath that burns like I’ve inhaled shards of ice instead of air. I wrestle to leash the wildness still snarling at the edges of my psyche. But the ache, the desperate yearning to simply see her, touch her, reassure myself of her immediate safety… it's an inexorable force pulling me under again.

"Give. Her. Back." The words are slowed but no less fraught with menace than before. My jaw clenches until molars grind against the strain. I fight to hold the darkness and my magick at bay through sheer force of will. "She's mine."

"Settle yourself first." Kellan's unshakable composure only inflames my desperation further.

Melinda's slender hand appears from behind the Drakonii's formidable bulk, her fingers wrapping around his forearm in a casual grip that ignites like a flame in my addled mind.

She's touching him. A guttural snarl rips its way free as my control ruptures, rational thought consumed by the primal urgency to reclaim what is mine. To keep her safe, sheltered from any who might try to part us ever again

I roll my shoulders against the tremors of warring impulses, jaw muscles flexing as I fight to retain some semblance of rationality. Melinda needs my steady presence now more than anything, not the rampaging feral beast slavering at the mere implication of her being taken from my side.

Control...I must regain control over myself before I spiral any deeper into this darkness raging to swallow me whole.

"Kellan. Move," Melinda speaks up from behind the Drakonii knight, her soft tone commanding and sure.

"No, Domina." Kellan doesn't budge an inch, that anvil-steady glare boring into me with censure. "He's not safe."

It's like a dash of icy water hitting me square in the face. Not safe...for her? Am I truly so lost to the nightmare shadows lurking within that I would bring Melinda to harm? Horror wars with shame, twisting my gut into agonized knots. I wouldn’t hurt her. I know I wouldn’t.

Melinda moves, deliberately ignoring Kellan, into my line of sight. Her serene face is an instant balm to my overwhelmed senses. Her luminous golden-brown eyes search my own without a shred of fear or revulsion.

"Hawke, I'm here," she murmurs, her voice quivering ever so subtly. Yet her unwavering gaze holds me transfixed as if she is the unshakable eye in this storm of violent impulses.

My focus narrows to that singular point of light, my touchstone against the swirling madness. Distantly, I'm aware of Destrien speaking, but his words hold no meaning against Melinda's ethereal gravity slowly reeling me back from the brink.

Step by step, she approaches with her small hand outstretched, delicate fingers carefully unfurling like a bloom seeking the sun's warmth. Please. Touch me.

In seconds those same elegant fingers are brushing against my chest, her touch searing through layers of clothing and muscle to singe against my very essence.

The breath I've been holding expels in a violent rush as every unraveled thread woven into my psyche snaps taut once more. The savagery retreats. I capture her delicate frame against me, cradling her close for fear that she might evaporate if I don't keep holding on.

I bury my face against the satin strands of her hair, each inhalation flooding my senses with her vibrant citrus essence and steadying my fracturing composure further. "I won't lose you," I rasp out in a voice made rough by the exquisite combination of want, relief, and the shame of my failure to protect her. "I promise..."

"I know," she soothes, her small hands tracing patterns against my back that leave tingling trails of balm in their wake. "It's okay. I'm okay."

"You're mine," I repeat the declaration more for my benefit than hers. I move my hands from her back to her face, cupping her cheeks. “Mine.”

Melinda doesn't flinch from the weight of the pronouncement, of the desperate need driving it. Instead, her plush lips quirk in the barest hint of a smile. She gives a slight nod. "Yes." She presses a scorching kiss against my palm. "Mine."

That word hits me with the force of a stomping hoof to the chest. With that singular acknowledgment, the last dregs of darkness recede into the shadows of my soul and I am fully myself and in control once more… for now.

I pull Melinda tighter to my chest. Her warmth. The softness of her body molds against mine perfectly. Her scent fills my lungs, and I take several slow deep breaths.

Destrien clears his throat, drawing my attention away from Melinda. His expression now is a mix of concern and understanding, completely contradicting what I saw before. "I'll leave you to it, brother. But please, be careful."