Wicked Ties (The Tether Trilogy Book 2)
Wicked Ties: Chapter 90

This is the third day of sunshine in Blackwater. Caz believes it’s an omen from the Regals. In his mind, they’re watching over us. They can see and hear things we can’t and have a much deeper connection to Vakeeli than we do…but he still doesn’t trust them.

With the sun in the sky, us making the trek toward Blackwater forest with guns, the forest doesn’t seem so daunting now. In fact, the leaves on the trees are emerald in the sunlight, the trunks and branches sharp black. A coolness drifts in the air, but it’s a pleasant cool, one that mingles with the warmth. Tufts of clouds linger in the sky, bringing a possibility of rain, but I’ve learned Blackwater is a lot like the beaches of Florida. The rain is sporadic because we’re so close to the ocean, and when it does shower, it’s brief.

The sounds of panting rise beside me, and I carry my eyes down to my wolf Silvera who trots next to me. Cerberus is on Caz’s side. They’re protectors of Blackwater Manor and the castle grounds. A badass concept, I won’t lie.

When we meet the forest, Caz pushes a thick brush of trees aside to let me by, and we keep walking, going well past my portal, stepping over clusters of bushes and mangled branches until a thicket appears.

Caz takes the machete out of the sheath attached to his waist, the sunlight glinting off of it as he raises it and slices through the thicket.

“Haven’t been here in ages,” he sighs.

“Where are we, exactly?” I ask.

His lips quirk on one side. “You’ll see.”

He chops some more until an opening appears then tucks the machete away. He presses an arm against one side of the bush to keep it propped open.

“Go on. Step through,” he insists.

I put a foot through, guiding my body through the hole. I immediately notice the difference in the grass. It’s much denser and plusher, and the scent of lilac floats past my nose, as well as honeysuckle. When I make it through, I drink in my surroundings, completely in awe.

We’ve reached a field, the blades of grass ankle-deep and black flowers peppered throughout. The flowers glisten with a fresh coat of dew, tall, thick trees wrapped in thriving green vines leaning inward as if protecting this particular space. Each tree slopes toward the next, the tips of their branches touching. At a glance, it would seem these trees are whispering to one other. I squat, taking a closer look at the flowers with their golden centers and petals that are a soft, rich black. At the far end of the field are three wooden pedestals, which I replace out of place.

Caz meets up to me as Silvera and Cerberus sniff around. “We call this place the Monarch Terrain,” he says, looking upward.

I look with him, allowing the sunlight to bathe my skin with its gold warmth. “Why is it called that?” I ask.

“It was created as a place for all monarchs to practice, whether it be with swords, knives, or guns. See how the trees curve?”

“Yeah.”

“A Mythic made it so that the trees keep everything inside it. Whether a bullet goes astray or a dagger ends up flying too far across the field, it won’t escape this area. Originally there were people living in this forest. Lots of commoners, and the previous monarchs didn’t want anyone getting hurt during their practice, so this place was created. I like to think of it as a bubble of sorts. I actually heard someone accidentally got shot in the ass before the barrier was created.”

“You did not!” I bust out laughing.

“I swear it!” he laughs. “Anyway, those posts,” he says, pointing to the wooden pedestals. “They help us practice. Watch this.”

Caz jogs away, stopping at a tree next to the posts. This tree is not like the others. It looks to be more of a black pole with the design of tree bark. He presses a button on the pole, and the pole whirs to life. It splits into three sections, revealing spin dials. The dials wind with aging creaks, and the pedestals next to them rise in the air. They fly toward the center of the field, floating midair as Caz makes his way back to me.

One of the pedestals shoots something out. I can’t make out what it is. A boomerang? A disc? Whatever it is, it comes flying down, whirling around the terrain rapidly until Caz whips out his gun, cocks it, and shoots it down.

I walk with him, and he picks up the object. It’s a wooden bird with a bullet smackdab in the center.

“This,” Caz says, raising it in the air, “is the best target practice you’ll ever get. You learn to shoot down one of these with a weapon, and you’re good as gold.”

I look up again at the floating pedestals. They shoot out another bird, but Caz doesn’t shoot it this time. Instead, he gestures to me. “Right. Go on. Let me see what you’ve got.”

“Oh my God,” I gasp. “I’m nervous. What if I miss?”

He smiles graciously. “Then you try again.”

His eyes fall to the gun attached to my hip. “Retrieve your gun.” I do, and he takes a step toward me. “Don’t be afraid of it.”

“Hard not to be. They’re so dangerous.”

“Wrong. It’s the person who has it that makes it dangerous. If your intentions are good, there’s nothing dangerous about it. You’re only using it to protect yourself.”

“I’m not really a gun-positive person,” I say, half-joking.

“I get it.” His cerulean eyes shift up to the top of one of the trees. “Your world is not like this. On Earth, I bet it’s frowned upon to love guns so much.”

“Meh. Guns are a hot topic on Earth. Lots of debates about them.”

“Well, this is Vakeeli. And like you said, you want to be able to protect yourself. If push comes to shove, I want you to protect yourself too. So, we’ll start with guns, and then we’ll move on to knives and daggers. How’s that sound?”

“Sure. Sounds good.”

“Right.” Caz steps behind me, and I’m not prepared for him to wrap his arms around me. His warm fingers slide down my forearms until his palm is resting on the back of my hand. I feel a shiver ride through me, that same feeling I had when we first kissed, and I bite a smile as he whispers on the shell of my ear, “Let me teach you.”

“’Kay,” I breathe, holding the gun with both hands.

“Raise your gun and aim,” he whispers again, breath warm. Goosebumps crawl up my spine, the heat of his body flush against my back. “Focus on the target,” he murmurs, and I do my best to focus on the wooden bird which is impossible seeing as he feels so good against me…

Focus, Willow.

He chuckles, and I’m certain that thought slipped out.

The bird floats everywhere, not as fast as the first bird, but still pretty quick. It bobs back and forth over the pedestals, nearly hitting the trees. I align my gun with the angle of the bird.

“When you lock on your target, pull the trigger,” Caz says, and I press my finger to the trigger, sending a bullet flying toward the bird. The gunshot echoes along with a hollow thunk, and the wooden object flails to the ground.

“Holy shit!” I gasp when Caz pulls away. “I shot it!”

“I knew you could do it!” I jump into his arms, and he holds me tight with a deep laugh. “You see? You’re a natural.”

The whirring of the pole becomes faster, and this time two birds come flying out of the pedestals.

“I’ll try by myself this time,” I tell him, and Caz grins, gesturing to the open field with a slight bow.

“Be my guest.”

I miss my second bird, and it takes me three tries before I finally shoot it down. Caz whips out a dagger, throwing it into the air at the other bird. The bird sails across the field and pins to a tree trunk.

“Show off!” I yell, and he throws his hands in the air, a guiltless gesture.

“Hundreds of years of practice, babe!”

We spend an hour on the field, wooden birds springing out of the pedestals, a gentle breeze going, and the honeysuckle scent stronger. The daggers are the hardest part, and he informs me that it’s really about force and the use of my wrists.

I only knock down one bird with a dagger, but I’m determined. Hopefully with a few more weeks of practice, I’ll be just as good as he is—as all of his clan are, really.

There’s a serenity to this—being outdoors in a picturesque field and practicing with my mate. Moments like these, I realize, are irreplaceable. We’re bonding, allowing our Tether to go much deeper than we imagined. I could never get this on Earth. I’m starting to think everything I need is all here. I wonder what Warren thinks about this new life…well, from what he can remember. Does he like it here? Does he want to stay forever? Would he want to go back to Earth?

I throw a dagger ahead of me as one of the five wooden birds floats nearby. Sometimes they thrust high, sometimes they bobble low. I barely hit the bird, but it does fall, my dagger going with it.

Then I feel a sense of unease wash over me. There’s a tightness in my stomach, almost a cramp, and my heart races, the hairs on my arms rising. Silvera and Cerberus are on their feet in seconds growling and baring their teeth and I look over my shoulder at Caz, who rapidly whips out his gun and points it directly at the opening of the thicket.

“Who’s there?” he barks, brows furrowing as he moves closer toward it. My heart continues its race as I remain stuck in place. Fuck. Here I go freezing again.

There’s rustling near the thicket, and Caz presses the gun hammer down, his finger wrapping tighter around the trigger.

Who is it? I ask him.

Don’t know.

“It’s just me.” A person appears, climbing through the opening. Her hair is pulled back in a thick braid, and loose tendrils hang around her face. Her eyes are still puffy, and the gray eye seems sadder than the good eye, but her face is clear, a little brighter. She’s also changed clothes, dressed in all brown, with boots to match.

Danica forces a smile, looking from Caz to me, and I relax a little, breathing a sigh of relief. God, this place makes me so on edge. That could have been anyone coming to hurt us.

Caz drops his arm with a frown. “Why are you sneaking up on us?” he snaps.

“I’m not sneaking up on you. I was looking for you.”

“Well, you found us. Now what do you want?”

Danica takes a thorough look around, moving closer. “I was hoping to ask for a favor.”

“Of what kind?” Caz moves my way. He does that a lot, no matter the person. Stands close to me, just to avoid any surprise attacks.

“It’s about Warren. He’s hanging out with Rowan right now, but I’m a little worried.” She wrings her fingers together. “You, um…saw me this morning. How I ran off. He found me through our bond, and he tells me he can still hear my thoughts, still feel how I feel. But…something is different now. Besides the fact that he can’t remember anything we’ve experienced together or falling in love with me, his thoughts are…well, they’re disturbing.”

“Disturbing how?” I ask.

“Earlier, I heard him thinking about killing himself. But it’s a different voice, one that sounds like his but more sinister. Truthfully, I don’t think it belongs to him at all.”

“Whose do you think it is?” Caz inquires.

“I know you said Decius has been put away, and that Korah has him locked up, but that doesn’t mean all his energy has fully disappeared, does it? I think…I think this voice that’s in Warren’s head is telling him to kill or harm himself so that his half of the Cold Tether can be dispensed. And I know this is a stretch, but what if Decius is still controlling him somehow? He was stuck in that trance before, and sure, the elixir woke him up and brought him back to reality, but it didn’t erase everything. And I hate saying it, but Warren is the weakest of us all. He’d be the easiest to take down. Decius’ energy is still working through him, regardless that he’s been put away by a Regal. It won’t be until he’s dead that we’re all truly safe.”

I glance at Caz, my chest growing tighter by the second. “Would that be possible? For Decius to still have energy around?”

“Honestly, anything is possible these days. But even so, what do you want us to do about it?” Caz asks, frowning at Danica. “There is no Mythic strong enough to penetrate a hold like that. Even the Regals said they can’t fully kill him, they can only weaken him. And the only Regal who can remains in a slumber.”

“Please,” Danica pleads. “T-there has to be something.” She steps closer, gesturing to me. “Willow, he’s your brother, and you know I’m telling the truth. These thoughts are dangerous, and they’re not like him. I’ve heard him three times this morning thinking about killing himself.”

So that’s what that was at the table—why he was frowning, and she put the knife out of his reach. The idea of Warren using that knife to hurt himself sends my mind spiraling. I replace it hard to swallow, to digest. The Warren I know would never do such a thing.

“You’re right. It’s not like him,” I agree.

“Is there anyone we can talk to who can restore Warren’s mind? Get Decius completely out of him?” she requests.

Caz lowers his head with an irritated sigh. “Look, Danica, I already know what you’re hinting at, but it’s not possible and frankly, I don’t want to do it..”

“Why not?” she counters rapidly.

“Because for one, I don’t trust the Regals. And two, they are not easy to replace. We have no clue where Korah is, and as for Hassha, I highly doubt she’ll allow us on her island twice.”

“You mean in Kessel?” Danica asks. “No, she wouldn’t. My mother told me stories about her journeys to Kessel. The warriors would kill you before you even make it to shore. But I have their blood. Perhaps she’ll allow us.”

Caz says nothing, only stares at her.

I grab his hand. “There has to be a way we can get in touch with them, Caz.”

“There must,” Danica insists. “I know I come from nothing, but if you help me, I’ll owe you tenfold. I will forever be in your debt. I—I work hard and fight harder, and I can hold my own in any situation I’m put in.” Danica raises her head, though her mouth is quivering. “Please.”

Her tears fall, slowly skating down her cheeks.

Caz sighs. “Love of Vakeeli, I don’t do well with tears.”

“Caz. We have to do something,” I murmur.

“I know. I know.” Another sigh escapes him, and he tucks his gun into his holster, eyeing Danica. “Fine. I’ll do my best to send a message to Hassha, but I can’t promise it’ll get to her.”

Danica swipes at her face, nodding eagerly. “Yes—okay, yes. I understand. Anything is better than nothing at all.”

“I’ll express that it’s urgent, and if that doesn’t work, I’ll ask around, see if any Mythics can assist us with Warren or ward off those dark thoughts, even if it’s temporarily.”

“Okay. That could work.” Danica closes the gap to offer a hand to Caz. “Thank you. I promise you, I’m forever in your debt. Anything you need me to do, it shall be done.”

Caz glances at her hand before locking on her eyes. To my surprise, he takes it, his jaw clenching. The pain spreads all over him, and I feel a hint of that sensation in me, but he shakes while nodding at her.

With that, Danica turns away and jogs across the terrain and through the thicket.

“I can’t help feeling like that was a mutual understanding just now,” I tell him.

Caz is quiet for a while. “Perhaps it was.” He glances at me. “Do you get odd sensations when they’re around? Like little shocks?”

“I do. You feel that too? I couldn’t figure it out before.”

“I think it’s in our blood,” he murmurs. “The Cold Tether has an effect on all of us. It’s a bond that unites us, whether we know each other or not. What I gather from her is similar to how I felt when I met you. I knew you weren’t a threat and that she wasn’t one either.”

I wrap an arm around him, and he closes me in his. “Are you saying you believe her? That you trust her?” I ask.

“I never said all that.”

“Caspian Harlow? Trusting a stranger? That would be very new.”

“Pipe down, Willow Woman.”

I laugh into his chest, but the laughter is short lived as someone shouts his name.

“Caz!” Rowan calls, bursting through the thicket. Caz pulls away, looking in his direction. “Finally got contact from The Council!” he pants. “Better come now. They say it’s urgent.”

Caz’s eyes fall to mine, a sense of dread sinking into us both. Regardless, he wastes no time taking my hand and leading the way out of Monarch Terrain and to the castle.