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Chapter 75: The Fourth Time I’ve Died for You
Maeve
“This is at least the fourth time I’ve died for you-or almost died for you,” Troy said weakly as Cleo rolled a
bandage over his chest. “You’re going to marry me.”
“Okay,” I whispered, my mouth trembling as I smiled, and my eyes welled with tears. I looked from his
face to his chest, which was moving up and down as he breathed.
He was breathing. He was alive.
And he had a moonstone.
Keaton was sniffling behind us, Myla murmuring reassurances in his ear as she stroked his back with her
head pressed against his shoulder
I’d had a strained relationship with Keaton since the day I met him. I thought he was ornery and arrogant,
and I would continue to think that, but kneeling on the beach with him while Troy died in front of us had
cemented an intimate type of relationship between us a shared indescribable grief, and eventually a
communal joy when Troy opened his eyes once more.
We were all standing in absolute disbelief, still processing the events that had taken place in the last
thirty minutes or so. Troy had died and come back to life. Damian was dead. Opaline had been captured
and was hogtied and laying in one of the skiffs, her screams of frustration mingling with the rush of the
incoming tide.
And we had the moonstone we had come all this way for.
“We‘re going back to Winter Forest now,” Troy grunted, trying to sit upright despite Cleo’s protests.
“We–we can’t. We have to go to Dianny first-“| stammered, stepping forward into the circle that was
standing around Troy.
“Maeve’s right. We can take whatever goods we find here back to the Persephone, but we’ll need to stop
to-”
“Tasia-” Myla and I said at the same time, which caused the low murmuring taking place around the circle
to quiet.
I sucked in my breath, glancing at Myla before exhaling deeply and telling everyone what had happened,
and what had been said, after Myla killed Damian.
Keaton’s face fell at every word. I knew he was thinking about Robbie. We all were. I didn’t know if I fully
believed Opaline, but even Damian had warned me about Tasia and her powers.
“We have to go back and see what happened. If there were survivors. If Robbie…” | tucked my hands
into the pockets of my pants. I was filthy, still in the clothes I had worn when we entered the tomb three
days ago.
“Robbie would have made it out; he’ll be fine,” Keaton turned to Troy, offering his hand. Troy took it as
Keaton helped him upright, holding onto Keaton’s shoulder for support as he stood, wobbling for a
moment before regaining his composure.
It seemed that my blood hadn’t healed him. The moonstone had brought him back to life, but he still had
a deep wound across his chest. Pete was holding the knife Opaline had stabbed him with during her
attack, turning it over and over in his hand.
“We’ll split the supplies Damian has here at camp,” Troy said firmly, looking from face to face. “Maeve
and I are going north, back to the pack lands… to Winter Forest. The rest of you will go to Dianny.”
“Troy, we should go with them,”
“No,” he rounded on me, looking irritated. I pursed my lips, biting the inside of my cheek as he continued.
“This was the plan all along, to stop Damian from getting his hands on the moonstone. It’s done. It’s time
for you to go home, Maeve.”
His tone was incredibly harsh, and I felt myself beginning to cower. He was angry, whether at me or the
situation, I wasn’t
sure.
But Troy was watching me with interest as he spoke, his eyes boring into mine. I could feel his gaze all
over my skin and it brought a warm blush to my cheeks. I looked away from him, knowing exactly what
he was looking for. He knew today was my birthday. He knew what that meant.
I wondered if he felt the mate bond.
I wondered if he knew I didn’t.
“Troy’s right; we split up. Someone find the keys to that cruiser in the distance,” Keaton stepped out of
the circle, letting go of Troy. He was barking commands to the crew now, his skin tight with dried tears. I
swallowed against the apprehension tightening my throat and looked at Myla, who just shook her head.
“We‘re really going to split up?” I said to anyone who was still listening.
“I want to go north with you.” Pete had stepped forward, his words directed at me instead of Troy. This
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇttook Troy by surprise, and he turned to face Pete, his brow furrowed.
“That’s not up to you–” Troy began.
“I’d never been off the Isles when I first boarded the
Persephone. Now, I’ve traveled south, about as far as you can go. I didn’t find her,”
“Find who?” Troy asked, narrowing his eyes.
“My… mate.”
Keaton let out his breath, shaking his head as he chuckled and turned to face us. “I knew it all along,”
“I’m serious! I want to go with Maeve. I want to see the world north of the Isles—”
“Fine!” Troy bit out, reaching up to hold his hand against his temple. He swayed, and I jumped forward,
wrapping my arms around him before he fell over. His body was warm against mine, and I couldn’t help
but lay my cheek against his back, thankful when his body softened to my touch. “I’m tired. I’m really… I
just need to lie down.”
“That’s fine. There’re couches in the big tent. You can rest while the rest of us gather up supplies.” I
whispered against his skin. I felt him nod, weakly, his muscles trembling as he took a deep breath.
Then he moved out of my arms and walked in silence toward Damian’s tent.
“It’s not you, Maeve. He’s hurt.” Keaton was looking at me, his
eyes shining in the moonlight.
| swallowed hard, nodding as I looked down at my feet.
Keaton was only half right.
***
It was daybreak. Light was filtering through the tent flap and people were walking by with bundles of
supplies in their hands. Cleo came in carrying fresh bandages, and I sat up, giving her a soft smile.
“How was he last night?” she asked as she sat her bundle down on Damian’s desk and began to unroll
the bandages.
“He woke up a few times…. He’s in pain, Cleo. I offered to help him but he-he told me not to bother.” I
tried to hide my hurt but failed, my cheeks flaming with a furious blush.
“I’m sorry he said that to you Maeve. I’m sure he didn’t mean it to upset you.” She soaked a rag with
what smelled like pure alcohol, and I sucked in my breath, imagining how much it would sting when she
cleaned Troy’s wound with it.
“I want you to watch me do this, okay? You’re going to have to do this when we… We…” She paused,
biting her lip and shaking her head as she set the alcohol-soaked rag on a small tray. “I can’t say I’m
totally on board with you traveling with Troy and
Pete without me with you, being as pregnant as you are.”
We had talked about it the night before. Troy, Pete, and I would be going north in Damian’s cruiser, while
the rest of the crew of the Persephone would be going to Dianny, which included Cleo. She had
protested, but I knew she would come to regret being separated from Myla if she didn’t go with them,
especially after hearing the story of Cleo’s mate.
“I’m going to be fine,” I said reassuringly, trying to sound sincere. I had at least three months to go before
I gave birth, and a two-month-long journey to Winter Forest. Troy stirred, shifting uncomfortably on the
couch near Damian’s desk, his eyes fluttering.
“We‘re going to have to leave soon. Keaton is taking Opaline on the Persephone,”
“No, he’s not.” Troy rolled onto his side, hissing as he struggled to sit upright. His bandages were red
with fresh blood. He blinked into the soft morning light, his gaze settling on me for a moment before
looking at Cleo, then her bandages. “No,” he said curtly, crossing his arms over his chest.
“You’ll get a raging infection, Troy. We‘ve been over this twice already.” She took the tray between her
hands and stood before him, giving him a motherly look, something that demanded obedience.
He surrendered, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he accepted his fate, and Cleo started to unwind the
bandages over his chest wound.
I wanted to look away, but Cleo called me over. “This is the area you need to worry about, right here. See
how deep this is? I’m going to stitch it up-”
“No, you’re not-” Troy closed his mouth and breathed through his nose as Cleo gave him another cold
look, then settled back against the couch.
“Anyway, I’m going to stitch him up. But you still need to clean the entire area at least twice a day. When
you get to Winter Forest, your mother should take a look at it and see if she can help him, okay? He
might have some nerve damage…”
I nodded, fighting back tears. I hadn’t told anyone about the painful feeling lodged in my chest that was
telling me something was dreadfully wrong in Winter Forest.
I continued to watch Cleo, listening as she told me exactly what she was doing and why. As she was
wrapping a fresh bandage around Troy’s chest, I looked up into his eyes, which were focused on mine
again with the same intensity as the night before. He said something to Cleo, and she nodded in
response, turning away from him and gathering her supplies before she left the tent.
I held my breath as I sat down on the couch across from Troy, my mouth going dry. He cleared his throat,
and I looked up at him, waiting for him to ask me the inevitable.
But he didn’t speak. He just stared.
“I don’t feel it, Troy,”
“I know you don’t. It doesn’t change anything.”
“Of course, it does!” I cried, wringing my hands together. “I’m not your mate. Your mate is still out there
somewhere, and I… I won’t let you sacrifice that happiness. If you found her I would… I would let you go.
I would.”
“I feel it, Maeve, even if you can’t.”
His voice was incredibly serious, which matched the look etched on his face. There was no softness in
his features. He wasn’t trying to convince me. He was telling me it was so.
“There’s a difference between being in love and being with your mate-”
“How do you know?” His eyes were shining in the sunlight coming through the tent flap. I looked away
from him. “How could you possibly know the difference? What do you feel for me, Maeve? Tell me how
it’s different.”
“I love you”
“That is enough for me.”
“It’s not enough for me.” I bit my lower lip, wishing he could just peer into my mind and help unravel the
tangled web of emotions I was feeling. I loved him. I wanted him. He was the father of my unborn
children.
If he was my mate, I couldn’t feel it. I couldn’t even feel my wolf. My blood didn’t possess healing powers.
I was useless. I wasn’t a White Queen.
And it would kill me if he found his mate and refused her because of me. I wouldn’t let him sacrifice that
right, that gift. I loved him too much to let him do that for me.
“We‘ve talked about this before,” he said, but I interrupted him, holding my hand up to silence him.
“It doesn’t change how I feel!”
“You’re mine!” He looked like a totally different person than the
Troy I had once known during those early, easy days at the Castle in Mirage. His hair was much lighter
now, bleached a soft chestnut brown by the sun and curled softly against his shoulders. His skin was still
deeply tanned, but his face was etched with lines of fatigue from months of turmoil and stress.
He looked tired, annoyed, and overall displeased.
I could see the silent plea of understanding in his eyes. It broke my heart
“I can feel it even if you can’t,” he said as he rose to his feet, baring his teeth against the pain. “I have
been beaten, broken, and seen death for you, Maeve.”
“I’m sorry for all of that,”
“Don’t apologize to me!” He took a wobbling step forward, his hand coming up to press against the
wound over his heart, closing his eyes for a moment. “I would do it all over again. I would. And I’ve told
you time and time again how I knew you were my mate the second I saw you. I was watching, you know,
before I even knew who you were. I had seen you in the market twice before the day we met. I thought
you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen in my life. And that day… the fight, you remember? I
started it.”
“The street brawl? When I got pushed into the street?”
He nodded, taking another step toward me.
“I was in the bar, waiting to meet with Horace on the castle grounds, just trying to pass the time. But I
also knew you passed by Johnny’s almost every day at the same time in midmorning. I saw your hair in
the crowd, and I stood up from
the barstool so abruptly that it fell over and landed on someone’ s foot. He thought the man standing next
to him had stepped on him, so he pushed him. And then the fight started.”
“And you ran outside-”
“And caught you right before you broke your damn ankle. Touched you. I felt it then. I’d had a feeling
what I was feeling was the mate bond, but… that cemented it for me.” He took another pained step
forward, shaking with effort.
“Troy, you need to sit down!”
“You’ve been fighting against everyone, and everything, your entire life, Maeve. I know you can’t feel the
mate bond. I understand your hesitation to believe that we are actually mates. But I feel it. I know it in my
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmsoul that you are it for me. For always. I died on that beach knowing I had gotten everything I ever
wanted, and that my MATE would be caring for my children. I was okay with that. I didn’t fight against
death because of it.”
“Stop-”
“Surrender, Maeve.”
“What if you’re wrong?”
“I’m not wrong. Maybe I was wrong about the curse, okay? You’
re twenty-one now. You should have your powers, and you don’ t, right? You haven’t attempted to shift
yet, and I don’t think you should until we get you home–
“And Ernest’s dream came true when… when Gemma-”
“I know,” he said softly, his hands shaking from pain as he gripped my shoulders. “But we have one of
the moonstones. That’s enough for now. You need to go home, Maeve. We need to just… see what
happens.”
“My mom… something is wrong”
“We‘re going to fix it.”
“14”
“I’m going to fix it. I promise. I’m going to get you back to them. I promised you that a long time ago.” He
leaned his forward and rested his forehead against mine as he closed his eyes, taking a shuddering
breath. He leaned further down, his breath tickling my ear and the side of my neck.
| shivered from the sensation; it felt like it had been such a long time since he’d had his hands on me.
“Maeve?” He said my name like a whisper.
“Yeah?”
He kissed my neck, then my shoulder, his teeth grazing my skin and sending an electric sensation
through my core. He was holding onto me for support, easing me down onto the couch. The kiss became
intense as he reached up and tangled his fingers in my hair. When his other hand came down to cup my
breast, I pulled away from the kiss, grabbing his face between my hands.
“You are seriously injured!” I hissed.
“Not injured enough to prevent me from doing this!” He pulled my hair, not even to hurt me, but enough
to expose my neck to him again, his mouth lingering just above my skin. Oh, I wanted him. I wanted him
in more ways than one. And I knew what he wanted from me. He wanted me to surrender. To finally
submit to him. To accept what he believed as fact.
So, I did.
And if anyone had come into the tent, they would have found us in a very compromising situation.
Troy had me on his lap, my dress hiking up over my waist as I rode him, trying with all of might to be
gentle. He held me close, kissing my chest and neck and running his hands down my back.
He reached up to touch my cheek, running his fingers along my jaw. “I meant what I said on the beach.
We‘re going to get
married. You’re going to my wife,” he said in a gravely, strained voice. I grabbed my hips, guiding my
movements and forcing me to slow my pace.
“1-I know,” I panted, on the edge of my own release. “I want that too, if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure,” he groaned, closing his eyes. I kissed him softly, my lips barely brushing his. “Maeve?”
“Am I hurting you?”
“No, no-not at all..” he inhaled deeply, then paused as if catching his breath. He wrapped me in a close
embrace, trembling slightly as he held me still.
“Troy, what’s-”
“I don’t have a ring for you. I’ll get you one.”
“That doesn’t matter to me, you know I don’t wear jewelry!”
“I’m going to mark you. I want your permission-”
“Think-think about what that would mean, Troy, before-”
“Is that a yes?”
“It’s-it’s not a no?”
He bit down, hard, and I closed my eyes.
Fireworks erupted over my skin. All of my senses seemed to heighten for a moment, making me dizzy
and driving my pleasure over the edge. I moaned, partly from the pain of the bite but also at the feeling of
him inside of me, unable to hold back any longer.
Before I could stop myself I had his skin between my teeth. I felt like an animal, feral, burning with
uncontrollable desire.
Is this what it’s supposed to feel like with your mate? Why didn’t I know for sure?
I bit down, leaving my mark on him, forever.