Before I can negotiate, he claims he’s come to speak to Raiden and me. And everything he’s said since is terrifying.

  “Mathias is running loose? Not Mathias d’Arc, surely. He was exiled⁠—”

  “Centuries past, yes. He broke free over a month ago. That night, he attacked the MacKinnetts. He violated and killed the witchling Tynan O’Shea planned to mate once she transitioned.”

  So he’s not interested in Kari? “Witchling? How old was she?”

  “Still a child. Mathias has been killing innocents and wreaking havoc since.”

  I gape, trying to wrap my mind around something that should be impossible. The danger around Kari is so much worse than I imagined. “You said he’s creating soulless minions as well. For his Anarki army?”

  “Indeed. We’re up to our elbows fighting them. And they’re impervious to magic. Mathias is creating them faster than we can kill them.”

  “We?”

  Bram and Tynan exchange a glance. “The Doomsday Brethren. We’ve banded together to defeat Mathias.”

  My blood runs cold. So the group Rhea mentioned before the bitch attacked is real. My instinct to protect Kari multiplies.

  The “Brethren” part I understand, since that echoes the name of the group that fought Mathias centuries ago. But only one object in magical lore bears the other part of that moniker.

  I lower my voice. “Doomsday, as in the Doomsday Diary, Morgana Le Fay’s enchanted book?”

  “That grants its user any power, even to destroy the world? The very one,” Bram says. “We recovered it a few weeks past. So our mission also includes keeping it from Mathias.”

  Such a weapon in the hands of a madman… I only know of the evil wizard from history. I wasn’t alive when Mathias last terrorized magickind, but if history is even half accurate… I shudder.

  “How have I not heard this news? Why isn’t all of magickind talking about it?”

  “You know the rest of the Council.” Bram shrugs.

  Indeed. Notoriously closemouthed, even to magickind’s detriment. They would rather appear indecisive than be publicly excoriated for their decisions.

  “You’re leading this effort?” I ask Bram.

  “Indeed. I formed the group. Mathias must be eliminated.”

  “Agreed. But you cannot be here. Anyone involved in this resistance puts Kari in danger.”

  Kari, standing near Bram, scowls. “You can’t tell me who to serve in my own pub.”

  I turn to Tynan. “A few days ago, she was attacked by a witch named Rhea, who was looking for you. Small brunette dressed like a streetwalker. Ring a bell? She blasted Kari with a dangerous green spell I’ve never seen.”

  Tynan and Bram exchange a glance, then shake their heads.

  “Sorry. I don’t know her,” O’Shea adds.

  “Well, Rhea knows you. She demanded Kari tell her what you and Shock discussed.”

  Tynan frowns. “Since his family has long supported Mathias, I wasn’t keen on the idea of his involvement. Maybe he got wind of that fact.”

  “Who is this Rhea, and why would she spy on Shock? Or attack a human to learn about his conversations?”

  “I can only guess.”

  I’m done guessing. “Bloody hell, I need answers! My mate is in danger!”

  “I’m not your mate!”

  Kari’s hands-on-hips protest tramples my last nerve. I should want distance between us…but something primal isn’t having any of that. The wizard in me insists she is my mate and won’t let her go. “Say that again, and I will take you over my knee.”

  She rolls her eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Want to try me?”

  Bram clears his throat. “I know why. Shock Denzell is a member of the Doomsday Brethren…in theory.”

  “So…Rhea supports Mathias?” I ask. “And Mathias wants to know where Shock’s loyalty lies, so he’s using the witch to find out?”

  “I think so, yes. Ask many more questions, however, and I’ll conscript you.”

  I scowl. “Who else has joined? Who must I keep far from Kari?”

  Bram sighs. “This information cannot go beyond these walls, and I’m trusting you only because you were my sister’s childhood friend, and you’re clearly overprotective because of your unanswered mating Call.

  “Lucan MacTavish fights with us…or he did until he was felled by mate mourning. Mathias took Anka from him while Lucan was protecting the Doomsday Diary. We have been unable to locate her.”

  That news strikes terror in my heart and reinforces all the reasons I’m determined to keep Kari safe.

  “His brother, Caden, is helping a bit,” Bram goes on. “Isdernus Rykard⁠—”

  The nutter outcast?

  “Along with Simon Northam, the Duke of Hurstgrove. Tynan, here”—Bram points to the other wizard—“joined recently. An immortal human warrior, Marrok of Cadbury, trains us in human combat. And Shock Denzell plays the double agent.” Bram shrugs. “We’ll see whose side he ends up on.”

  Those men are from all walks of magic and humankind, highborn to low, from dedicated to dodgy. “That’s only eight warriors, including yourself. How will you fight Mathias’s army?”

  “Good question. We’re…working through the details. Interested in joining? I came here to ask you and your brother.”

  Once, my automatic answer would have been no. Wolvseys aren’t interested in battle or politics, just sex. But I have Kari to think about now, her safety to put first. Would my involvement provide Kari more protection or put her at greater risk?

  Or is that the wrong question? Maybe I should be asking what will befall magickind—and humans alike—if the Doomsday Brethren fail?

  I already know the answer.

  “I’m in. But my mate’s safety comes first,” I insist.

  “I am not your mate.” Kari shoots me a mutinous glare.

  “Naturally. We’ll help you defend her,” Bram agrees as if Kari never interjected. “You and Raiden will be good additions to our force.”

  “I can’t speak for my brother, but⁠—”

  “You won’t be able to keep either of them from chasing random skirts long enough to fight,” Kari drawls.

  Two urges slam me at once: to lay down the law and to kiss her senseless. She makes me crazy with her vulnerable, mutinous streak of feminine independence. Yet that maddening backbone is one of the reasons I fell for her.

  “Get back to me about Raiden,” Bram orders, then turns to Tynan. “We’ve done all we can here. Back to work. When you’ve figured out your…situation here, pop over to my house. Marrok will start you on human combat. I’ll school you on the magic you’ll need to stay alive.”

  After a quick shake of hands, he and O’Shea exit the pub. Closing time comes around, so the regulars and random customers all file out, too.

  Finally, Kari and I are alone.

  With a flick of my wrist, I lock the door. Then I cup her shoulders, holding her firm when she tries to squirm away. “Listen⁠—”

  “Get your hands off me.” She tries to wrench free.

  I hold firm. “What Bram and Tynan are involved in is very dangerous. You can’t even comprehend…”

  “Then why did you join?”

  “Because if Mathias prevails, we’ll all be dead or enslaved. Allying myself with the Doomsday Brethren might be the only way I can protect you. But it won’t work if you keep letting Tynan, Bram, and the rest come here.”

  “Piss off. I’m not taking orders from the bastard who Calls to me, then turns around and shags someone else. I fell for one cheating bastard. I won’t make that mistake again.”

  Though I staged the incident to put distance between us, I hate Kari comparing me to her ex. I’d do anything to take back that stupid scheme.

  “I didn’t shag that woman,” I growl.

  “Oh? Did she find her brain in her nonexistent bra and turn you down?”

  “No. I turned her down. I didn’t want her.” I grip Kari’s shoulders and stare into her eyes. The hurt there nearly fells me. “I only want you.”

  “Liar. I stopped caring about you the moment you left with her. I don’t want you here anymore. I told you that. Now go.” She sniffs, and the tears filling her eyes crush my heart. “And don’t come back. I mean it.”

  In a foul mood, I teleport home.

  Sometimes, being magical sucks. A human male never has a mating curse hanging over his head. A human male never worries about his missing instincts. He simply weighs whatever feelings he has and makes a rational choice.

  Right now, I feel anything but rational.

  “So you’re finally back?” Raiden lounges in the doorway. Then his eyes sharpen on my magical signature. “You Called to her? Are you out of your fucking mind. Do you want her to die?”

  Of all the things I thought my twin would say, concern for Kari’s safety wasn’t even on the list. “Of course not. But she was nearly killed a few days past.”

  “What? Is that why the Brew has been closed?”

  I nod. “Did you know Mathias d’Arc has returned from exile? And he’s creating an army he’s using to kill innocents?”

  Raiden blanches. “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “How is that possible?”

  So my twin had no idea, either. Little wonder, since both of us have been shagging our way through life, giving little thought to tomorrow, to roots, or to family.

  I don’t want to be like my father, slowly aging and alone, constantly fucking women who seek fleeting gratification with any halfway good-looking bloke. Raiden will soon have a youngling of his own, and if he’s happy, that’s great. But I don’t want a child with a woman for whom I have no feelings.

  Bloody hell, if this doesn’t make me the family freak.

  “I don’t know exactly, but some of Mathias’s followers attacked the Witch’s Brew. Kari almost didn’t make it.”

  “Because we’re cursed. You know that.” Raiden rakes a hand through his long golden hair. “She would likely be dead if she’d spoken the Binding.”

  “That’s why I made her promise she never would.”

  “Good. You need to give her space so she moves on. Resume your normal life. We’ll go out tomorrow night and⁠—”

  “I can’t.” I close my eyes. I don’t want to confess this, truly. But I can’t lie, especially to my twin. “Once I Called to her, something inside me…changed. I don’t want another woman.”

  “Are you saying you plan to be faithful?” Raiden spits. “To a woman who will never be your mate?”

  “I know it sounds foolish⁠—”

  “It sounds ridiculously self-sacrificing, actually. You need energy to power your magic. To live. If this is some barmy trick to deepen Kari’s feelings for you, stop. She’s already madly in love with you.”

  And I hurt her deeply. Shame roils through me.

  “Not anymore. She thinks I bedded another woman.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “I couldn’t. And I don’t want to hurt Kari again.”

  “Listen to me. You can’t complete your mate bond, or you’ll have her death on your conscience. You need to find another woman to power your magic⁠—”

  “Or I’ll die. I know.”

  So I must either perish, break Kari’s heart, or be the cause of her demise.

  “But I tried to bed another woman,” I tell Raiden. “I couldn’t abide her touch, her smell. Her kiss made me retch. Literally.”

  This time, my twin has no sarcasm or growled advice. “I won’t ask if she was unattractive. No woman has ever been that ugly, especially if she was willing.”

  “She was perfectly acceptable and amenable. But one kiss and…” I shudder.

  Raiden pauses. “So you’re going to abandon me to troll our usual haunts alone? Though we’ve shared the same curse and taken the same path for decades?”

  I tense. This question will probably drive a permanent wedge between us. “I’m sorry.”

  With a primal scream, Raiden whirls and punches the wall. “You’d rather sink into your fucking fairy tale where love and happily-ever-after can happen for a Wolvsey? What you want is impossible.”

  Perhaps, but everything inside me aches to make Kari my mate, to see her grow round with my children, to love her for the next nine hundred years.

  None of that will ever come to pass.

  “If it makes you happier, knowing that I’ve lost Kari and will likely lose you as well is killing me.”

  Raiden stares at me as if I’m a complete stranger. “Did you ever think that, perhaps, I have feelings for someone, too?”

  I blink at my twin, stunned. “You never shag anyone more than once.”

  He glances away with a guilty flush. “Tabitha carries my child now. It takes every bit of my will to stay away from her, to ensure her safety. It’s best for her and the baby.”

  But his face tells me he’s in love with her. How did I miss that?

  I know my brother can only stand to share a bed with random women while he has another in his heart because he closes his eyes and pretends. I used to do it all the time.

  That’s impossible now.

  I rake a hand through my hair, feeling defeated. I’ve failed everyone—my brother, my ancestors, my beloved, even myself. What the fuck do I do?

  With a sigh and a shake of his head, Raiden turns away. “Let me know when you’ve come to your senses. Otherwise, stay the fuck away.”

  Chapter

  Eight

  At the Witch’s Brew, I sit in a shadowy corner, watching Kari’s every move. I’ve barely left her sight in days.

  The pub is busy for a Thursday night. Humans mingle with magickind, never knowing they’re flirting with someone not quite their own species. Music blares, drinks flow, and people laugh.

  And I’ve never been more miserable.

  Kari refuses to speak to me. The first night I occupied this spot, she never once acknowledged me. By the following evening, she hired a waiter—a large one—with a shaved head, sporting a skull-and-crossbones tattoo on one forearm, and a fire-breathing dragon on the other. Human, so not much of a threat to me, but I hear her message loud and clear.

  Fuck off.

  Nursing a scotch, I watch the ebb and flow of the patrons for the twelfth straight night. Kari may never speak to me again, but I’ll do whatever I must to ensure she stays safe, regardless of my waning energy. The one bright spot? The rest of the Doomsday Brethren have been too busy training to put in an appearance. Small favor, that. But one keeping her safer.

  Not for the first time, I suspect Kari would be better protected if I learned to fight evil beside them, rather than merely waiting for it to strike. Just like I finally realize, now that I’m no longer banging a different female every night, that I’ve given too little thought to the future. What the hell am I going to do?

  I have no answers, but regardless of what Kari says or believes, in my heart, she’s my mate.

  Wind gusts through the pub as the door opens. Shock Denzell strolls in, his gaze hidden behind dark sunglasses as he scans the room. Damn, I really hoped the prick would steer clear.

  I leap from my stool and position myself between him and Kari. “Get out.”

  Shock scowls at me as if I’m a gnat. “Who the fuck are you? Not the pub’s owner.”

  “Her mate. I don’t need you bringing more trouble.”

  Shock eyes my magical signature with disdain. “Not her mate.”

  That truth rankles. Then again, his signature suggests he’s issued an unrequited Call to someone, too…

  I glare his way. “I’m not arguing semantics. Moments after you last left here, the pub was attacked. Kari was nearly killed. I won’t have that again.”

  “Attacked by whom?”

  “This isn’t an interrogation.”

  “If you want to save her life, start talking.” Shock crosses his arms over his massive chest.

  “How do I know you won’t simply end it?”

  Shock shrugs. “You don’t. But how can you protect her when you don’t understand the threat?”

  As much as I hate it, the bastard has a point. “The witch who attacked her is named Rhea. She was quite interested in knowing whatever you and Tynan O’Shea chatted about.”

  I can’t decipher the expression Shock hides behind his sunglasses, but the way he tenses tells me he’s furious.

  “Rhea is my issue.”

  Despite Shock’s slight height advantage and the badassery of all his leather, I think I could thrash the bastard. I certainly have anger on my side. And if I had to, I could channel my twin’s energy. Secondary energy from Raiden has saved me in past scrapes.

  “Mine as well if she comes back to kill my mate.”

  But whose fault is it truly? I inflicted the Wolvsey curse on Kari.

  “What bloody curse?” Shock snaps. “What are you on about?”

  He can read my thoughts?

  “Bingo, Einstein. What curse?”

  None of your fucking business. “That compute for you?”

  “Don’t be a prat. Most curses are crap, but”—Shock shrugs—“it’s your hairshirt to wear.”

  “This one is real.”

  “You’re sure? I know dark magic. You don’t. But if you enjoy being a martyr, fuck off and let me pass.”

  A martyr? That assho⁠—

  “If you’re going to mentally repeat everything I say, this will be a bloody long conversation.” Shock sighs.

  “What do you mean about most curses being crap?”

  “Just what I said. Most are pure shit.”

  “Explain.”

  “I will, like you’re a youngling barely out of nappies,” he says snidely. “Most of magickind don’t have the faintest clue how to create a strong curse, much less a lasting one. Were you the one cursed?”

  I hesitate. I don’t trust Shock…but what if he knows something helpful? “No, an ancestor.”

  “Unless the hex was cast properly, its effectiveness on extended family is weak at best. When was the curse placed?”

  “It’s been nearly a thousand years.”