The man looked pale and swallowed audibly, but his eyes weren’t on him, they were on Morgan…the fucker knew something. Kincade barely resisted reaching for his blades as he rose to his full height, cursing that they needed the bastard alive. “Speak.”
“If her father is who I believe, then there is nothing you can do to protect her.” The man finally lifted his girly eyes from Morgan. “She’s growing into her power. Whatever bindings were put on her are snapping, too weak to contain her anymore. When her powers manifest, they will come for her.”
“Who?” Atlas circled Shade, cutting off his escape.
Ward watched the exchange from the sidelines with a little too much interest.
The dick was going to be a problem, but the team had more urgent issues to deal with first.
“Anyone and everyone.” Shade shook his head, his eyes dropping back to Morgan’s still form. “Only the gods have the power to seal the gate.”
“So, even if the council wanted to close the gate—”
“It’s possible...if they all worked together, but it’s highly unlikely they would’ve evaded the fog with their magic intact to even make the attempt. And if they did escape the fog, the sheer amount of magic needed to seal the gate would drain them. If they survived the experience, the chances that they would ever be able to cast magic again is very slim.”
Such a clever trap.
The council members were the only ones strong enough to possibly contain the mess, which would prevent them from draining Tartarus any further, but the fear of losing their magic ensured that they wouldn’t even try.
The gods had planned for every contingency.
A chill slithered down his spine—the council had sent their best and brightest to be callously sacrificed, knowing the possibility of success was practically non-existent—Atlas and his men hadn’t stood a chance.
Then another realization struck him…only the gods could seal the gate, which meant at least one or more of the gods had escaped the expulsion to Tartarus to set that trap.
“So you never intended to seal the portal?” Draven casually began to flip his blade, a sure sign the fucker was seconds away from death. Though he didn’t do any solo missions anymore, Draven was one of the deadliest assassins. If someone needed to be dead quickly and quietly, they would send him.
“Of course.” Shade scowled. “Though I only gave my word to tell her how, I had every intention of helping. If the gods are still alive in this realm, we will need her alive. My mother gave birth to the gods. My blood, combined with hers, should’ve worked…before.”
Shade’s eyes dropped to Morgan again, as if the bastard couldn’t stop himself, and every protective instinct in Kincade rose at the possessiveness in the asshole’s look. He placed himself between her and the fucker, not wanting him to get ideas, signaling Draven to guard her.
Draven would fight like the devil, even sacrifice himself in a heartbeat if it meant keeping her safe.
“She needs to be trained property and none of you are capable of doing it. You should hand her over to me, so I can—”
Kincade wasn’t even aware of throwing the first punch, taking vicious pleasure as the man’s head snapped back and the feel of blood on his knuckles. He didn’t feel the blow to his ribs as they began to exchange punches in earnest. The others joined as well, and Kincade begrudgingly admitted the man wasn’t a pansy, holding his own against them.
That didn’t mean he was letting the fucker anywhere near Morgan.
“Morgan.”
She felt someone brush their lips against her forehead, dragging her from the darkness.
“Mmmm?” She pried open her eyes and smiled up at Draven. “Hey.”
“Hey, beautiful.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled down at her. “How do you feel about sitting up? I fear your mates will kill your demigod if you don’t wake up soon.”
“What?” Morgan lurched upright, the grabbed Draven’s arm when the room swam. Her body felt like dead weight. “Get me up.”
He slipped his arm around her waist, easily hauling her ass upright, using more energy then she had available at the moment. Her bones hurt. The thought of touching anything magical made her ache, and she doubted she could pull a rabbit out of a stupid hat even if it was already sitting inside it. She staggered a few steps, and Draven helpfully steered her to the opposite side of the room. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” He winked then shoved her into the lion’s den.
Shade had his back to the wall, his violent-blue eyes dark with frustration, only his vow preventing him from killing her men outright. The guys were taking their turns trying to beat the crap out of him, but the nightshade gave as good as he got.
“Would someone mind telling me what the hell is going on here?”
Kincade turned at the sound of her voice, taking a blow to his jaw that nearly dropped him to the ground. Morgan sighed, raising a brow at Shade, but only received a shrug in return.
“Did it work?” She ignored the team as they gathered around her, directing her question to Shade. She glanced at Atlas, and her spirits plummeted. He looked the same.
She failed.
“Yes.”
“What?” She whirled to face Shade and scowled, pointing an accusing finger at Atlas. “Then why isn’t he cured?”
“The infection has been stopped from spreading. Further mutation has been halted, but those who’ve been altered by the infection…it’s permanent.”
Her brain refused to process the devastating information, and her chest tightened at the thought of losing Atlas.
“I’m sorry.” Morgan dropped her gaze, unable to face Atlas. She foolishly thought she could save him. Instead, because she was stubborn, she’d gotten him infected in the first place. She’d struggled with his indifference when they first met. She didn’t know if she could deal with his hatred now they were mated.
“Morgan.” When Atlas grabbed her hand, she flinched. “Look at me.”
She couldn’t.
She couldn’t bear to see his disappointment.
“Very well.” He dropped her hand, and it felt like he’d stabbed her in the chest. To her shock, he tugged his shirt over his head, then snatched her hand and placed her palm over their mating mark. “If you won’t listen to what I’m saying, then feel the truth.”
Her fingers automatically curled in resistance. He placed his hand over hers, threaded their fingers together, then forced her palm to touch the mark. “You told me to live for you. Did you change your mind?”
“What?” Her head jerked up at the rough, uncertain tone of his voice. “Of course not.”
“Then feel.”
She absently brushed her thumb against the defined muscles of his chest, and reluctantly closed her eyes. And was immediately bombarded with his absolute wonder at being selected as her mate. Determination to live with what he considered his deformity surged through him—for her. He never wanted to let her down again, despite the fear that she would find him inferior. Underneath it lay a hunger that stole her breath. He would do anything for her, willing give her his heart and soul for a second chance.
He considered her his world…if she would just allow him into her life.
His emotions threatened to tear apart her heart, and she jerked her hand away. Ignoring the way his uncertain expression hardened with rejection, she threw her arms around his neck. “I think you’re perfect exactly the way you are.”
Atlas very slowly brought his arms around her, releasing a sigh of relief. “What do you say we go home?”
Chapter Twenty-seven
“You feel guilty about what you did to me.”
Shade’s comment startled Morgan. She’d been studiously avoiding him. As soon as they exited the temple, instead of stepping into a cave, the room held only a set of stairs carved out of pure rock that seemed to stretch forever upwards.