Escaping Death
Chapter 49

Hey everyone! Sorry for the disappearing act, life is always crazy for us in September.

For anyone wanting the rest of this story and it’s sequel (book 4), head on over to my Patreon. There’s also a few bonus chapters from this story exclusively available there.

Happy Tuesday!

— — — — —

Solana

“Ready to go, Sunshine?” Dean grabs my travel bag and throws it over his shoulder as he lifts two other bags off the floor.

“I still don’t understand why we had to leave today. The party isn’t until Thursday,” I complain for the hundredth time.

“It’s too late to change plans now, Sol. We need to be at Caligo in thirty minutes.” Ace grumbles as he exits the front door and adds his bag to the trunk of Eli’s car.

“Don’t worry, Sunshine. Once we’re there we can sneak off and spend the week getting lost in the Grove.” Eli winks at me and playfully slaps me on the bottom earning himself warning growls from both Ace and Hunter.

Dean packs the last of the bags and joins Tate and Eli in the car while Ace kicks his bike into gear and looks at me expectantly.

Hunter’s strong arms encase me from behind and squeeze me tightly. His chin rests on my shoulder where he occasionally drops kisses to my neck and jaw. “You’ll be okay, Sunflower.” He whispers to me sweetly.

I begin to turn in his arms and he loosens his hold on me to allow me to turn to face him and wrap my own arms around his waist so we’re both standing there holding on to each other.

“Please promise you’ll record your brothers kicking Eli’s ass, because you know he’s going to piss them off,” Hunter is only half-joking.

“Fuck, Hunter, three days at home…just kill me now.” I turn and drop my forehead to the center of his chest, taking my time to listen to the steady, unwavering beating of his heart.

I feel his laughter as much as I hear it. “Say hi to your mom, then fly off to the hot springs and camp out there until the party. Slip in casually late, stay for a drink, and then come home — here.” I don’t miss the way he called this home, and the way he almost made it sound like it was my home too.

“That’s not a half bad plan,” I think aloud.

The blaring of Ace’s horn calls out to us to hurry up and say goodbye, but it’s just so fucking hard when I really don’t want to go. Especially without Hunter.

“I better go before Ace gets his tail in a twist.” I begin to pull away from Hunter but he doesn’t relinquish his hold on me quite yet.

“Hey,” he tugs me back towards him, slips a hand behind my head, and brings our lips together. He holds me there for several moments allowing me to soak in his scent and his taste, the pressure of his hands on my body, the warmth of his touch. Not even the second sounding of Ace’s horn can disrupt this moment.

When we finally pull apart he tucks a strand of my naturally white hair behind my ear, kisses my cheek, and whispers “I’ll miss you,” in my ear. Then he sends me off to climb on to the back of Ace’s bike.

“Everything okay?” Ace asks me as I settle in behind him.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s get this over with.” He chuckles at my groaning and leads the way to Caligo.

The ride seems faster than usual, not that I paid much attention to it. Ace’s heat, scent, and electric touch occupied most of my thoughts, leaving little room for dread.

We park in the back of the club where Ace can keep his precious bike off the street and out of sight. I’ve learned that there are few things that Ace loves more than that bike. I’m also surprised he lets anyone ride with him, but whenever he’s on it he insists I ride with him.

I linger on the bike, sitting sideways on it while I watch the guys unload the trunk. Dean grabs most of the bags and heads straight inside the club.

“You’re too good at that,” Ace comes to stand in front of me.

What a random thing to say. “At what?”

“Hiding,” he says with a tone that’s more remorseful than malicious. “If we weren’t mates I’d never know what was going on in that head of yours. But we are, so I can feel how much anxiety this is causing you.” Ace nudges my knees apart and steps further into my space. His hands find their way to my hips and the rumble from his purring soothes my nerves.

“You don’t need to respond to that. I’m not looking for you to admit it even though we both know it’s true. My job —our job — is to protect you, even in the Grove. So if you really want to leave at any time, say the word and we’re gone.”

I nod and dismiss him with a tight smile but now I’m feeling even more unsettled than before. He hasn’t been this…sweet to me since my heat. Which means he’s not treating me this way because he has to, but because he wants to.

The problem is that this side of Ace, the sweet, gentle side, is more dangerous than the cold, calculating, killer side. Because when he’s this considerate and sincere it makes keeping my heart out of his hands a little harder.

Ace lifts my hand up and deposits a tender kiss in my palm before clasping my hand in his and leading us into the club. Our connection doesn’t go unnoticed by the others when we finally join them inside, but Ace doesn’t let go of my hand.

“I accused your fathers of lying to me. I couldn’t believe Calla actually convinced you to come.” Xander stands by the bar with arms opened wide in invitation.

I slip out of Ace’s hand hold and all but fly into Xander’s arms. “Is this your punishment for doubting them? Chauffeur duty?”

“Bringing you home is never a punishment, Sunflower.” Xander squeezes me tighter and I can feel Ace’s wolf at the very limit of his control. Such an alpha.

“You remember these three,” I gesture to Dean, Tate, and Eli. “And this is Ace. Ace this is Xander, my mother’s guardian.”

“The boss!” Xander plasters on his full, Prince Charming, megawatt smile and shakes hands with Ace firmly. “The Alphas are looking forward to meeting you. Are we waiting on one more?” Xander asks, doing the math and realizing we’re an H short of Death.

“He’s wrapping up some business out of town but we expect him to join us by Thursday,” Ace lies smoothly.

“Well alright then, let’s go home.”

Normally the thought of going back to the Grove makes me sick. But this time I feel like maybe it won’t be so bad, especially when I’m shadowed by Death.

— — —

Ace

Xander’s affection for Solana is palpable, but she made it clear that she thinks of him like family — like an uncle.

I snake an arm around her waist, holding her closer than is probably necessary, and allow Xander to teleport us into the Grove. Now that I’ve been brought in past their shield I’ll be able to teleport in and out on my own. That’s why we needed to meet Xander — admittance to the Grove is by invitation of the Queen only.

We appear in the foyer of an enormous palace. The ceilings are limitless and the halls are so wide I have no doubt that I could soar through this place in dragon form with ease.

The palace isn’t gilded and glittering with ornate structures and decor. It feels alive. Organic. The columns look like braided trees, benches are brambled, floors wooden. I’ve never seen anything like it.

“The Queen has cleared Sol’s floor so you and your mates can feel free to choose any room you’d like. Each of them neighbor hers.”

Xander has barely finished before Sol grabs her bag and flies up through the open center of the palace. Tate and Dean quickly follow behind her so I’m left with a hilariously annoyed Eli and an amused Xander.

“Gods I hope they’re paying you whatever you want. Quite frankly I’m shocked she hasn’t taken off on you guys.” Xander claps me on the back.

“She has,” I admit.

“Well then I’d say she’s met her match,” he says with a knowing grin, making me feel more transparent than ever. “There’s food in the kitchen, help yourselves to lunch. The Queen will expect you all for dinner. You have my cell, text me if you need anything.”

We shake hands and then he walks away chuckling to himself, likely at this whole situation with Solana.

“How the fuck am I supposed to get around in here? It’s like a fucking airport.” Eli complains but I sense it has more to do with the fact that Tate and Dean can easily keep up with Sol and that they got the first choice of rooms.

“You want to walk or do you want me to carry you?” I bite back my smile. There’s no way Eli will agree to be carried, he’d sooner crawl up the stairs.

“You can’t teleport?”

I shake my head, “not yet, I have to know where I’m going first.”

“Fuck, fine. Let’s get this over with.”

Sensing his embarrassment and general unease about being carried up, I choose not to make any more comments or jokes at his expense.

Her scent is easy to follow. I could drop her in an ocean and still find her — that’s how well I know her scent.

Sol’s scent-trail leads us to the 6th floor of the palace and like Xander said the entire floor is void of occupants except for Sol.

Eli goes door to door checking out every bedroom but I don’t bother. There’s only one room I’m sleeping in and that’s hers. I’ll pretend it’s not because I’ve grown accustomed to sleeping with her in my arms, using the steady rise and fall of her breathing to soothe me into my own sleep.

I’m not exactly sure what I imagined her room would look like but I definitely expected it to be darker than it is. Her room embodies her perfectly. The walls are an indescribable array of harmonious shades of purple. Her furniture is white with black hardware, including her bed. White oak wooden four-poster bed with pitch black sheets and a delicate purple canopy.

My thoughts are consumed by images of her naturally pearly white hair spread wildly on her black pillow as I drive into her. What a delicious sight that would be.

“You know this is my room, right?” Sol says when she catches me throwing my bag onto one of her arm chairs, staking my claim.

“Yes, I’m quite aware.”

“You have rooms as big as your house to choose from and you want to slum it on my couch?” She asks more amused than upset.

“I never said I was sleeping on the couch,” I raise a brow at her, earning myself a rare blush.

Before either of us could get another word out, Tate comes bursting into her room and throws his bag next to mine on the couch. “What the fuck is this?”

He holds up a small note and something that looks like some kind of plant.

“What is that?” I command Tate to clue us in on what has him so agitated.

The small note in his hand reads “have a safe trip,” with the initials NS at the bottom all in neat script.

“Who’s NS?” I ask.

Tate’s eyes ping pong between Sol and me, ultimately hardening into angry slits when he says, “Nightshade.”

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