Chapter 2: Heal the Villain, Get the Girl

Chapter 2: Heal the Villain, Get the Girl

Patch POV

“Well, Patch, what do you have to say for yourself?”

Over six feet tall, blue-eyed, dark-haired, and with their father’s noble chin, Alpha Dane Cresta could intimidate at the best of times, and even more when he just sat calmly in the Crimsontail Great Hall and glared at Patch, who felt like a wayward little brother.

Normally a softening influence on Dane, Lilia Rolfe Cresta frowned and looked at him through penetrating violet eyes.

Patch’s brother Jiro, the newly chosen Alpha and lord of the manor who had poured toughness and kindness on the battling Crimsontails and straightened them out, folded his arms and looked disappointed. Jiro’s mate and Luna, Garnet, seemed to understand the most, from her sympathetic amber gaze, and Cyran was her brother, for Fenrir’s sake!

Patch reached for the ceramic coffee pot and poured himself a cup of the steaming, fragrant dwarf drink before answering. He needed a cup after the last hour trying to help Anneliese with Cyran and Tulaska.

“I did try to behave,” he said aloud after taking a sip of the hot drink and feeling the liquid courage shoot from his mouth to his toes. “Honest.”

“That’s not what Anneliese says,” Lilia told him. He never knew violet could be such a fierce color as it was in her eyes. “She’s always liked you, but she was ready to use her petrified wood spell on you and turn you into a statue for her parents’ garden. Anneliese doesn’t get riled up easily, you know.”

Under Lilia’s accusing stare, Patch flushed. “I could have been more helpful. I was VERY helpful with Tulaska.”

Gray-eyed Tulaska shared Patch’s love of music, weird magic and shifter lore, and riddles. She’d been the Evenhide Pack Wise Woman for as long as he could remember.He’d laid as many hot washcloths as he could on her shivering body and chatted to her, even though she just stared up at the ceiling. He regaled her with amusing stories he’d heard from the other Alphas at the Alpha Gathering that the Crimsontails had hosted for the first time in a century, all thanks to Jiro and Garnet. 

But when he stared at Cyran, lying silent and cold on a crystalline bed in the cool blue Desperate Cases Room in the Healing Wing, all he could see was the man who hurt the four people in front of him, four of the people he loved most in the world.

Cyran had Lilia kidnapped after a campaign of terror, started a war between the Crimsontails and the Evenhide Pack, and fled like a coward after trying to kill Dane. When he resurfaced with a dark shifter wizard named Hades, who turned out to be his ancestor, he stoked the fires of a civil war that led to Jiro becoming the Crimsontail Alpha. He plotted to assassinate Jiro, and his crazy followers wounded Jiro and Garnet with deadly silver … fortunately, they were too tough to kill. Finally, he tried to lure Jiro and Garnet into a trap so that the demon inside Hades and Cyran could suck all the life out of Jiro.

Anneliese had been so brave and beautiful fighting for Garnet and Jiro, using all her witch powers to clobber Hades and his enslaved followers. But still, Tulaska ended up in a demon coma, and several shifters, as well as allied fighters like the orcs and elves, died.

A demon controlling Cyran couldn’t possibly excuse all that, in Patch’s view. He knew Anneliese felt the same, but the Wildefell Witch Circle had given her strict orders to heal Cyran. He admired her, but her goodness and dedication only made him wish Cyran never woke up.

“Yes, well, it’s easy to help with Tulaska,” Jiro said in his blunt way, his turquoise eyes not revealing what he thought. “But Cyran–”

Patch knew he had to tread with care–not his favorite approach. Because Garnet, whose amber eyes were nothing like her horrible brother’s, might be hurt if he said something careless. He’d already stepped in a hot, steaming pile of dragon dung with Anneliese.

He tried to sound helpful and accommodating. “I know. I know he’s got important information. He’s an asset. I AM Intelligence Chief, after all. And I know he’s Garnet’s brother. I have a duty to him, and all that.”

Garnet said quietly, “If I can be around him after everything, then anyone can.”

Patch reached out and grabbed her hand, noticing how it didn’t shake anymore. Not like it did when she and Jiro first bonded. “I know I’d do anything for these two idiots, regardless of what they did.” He nodded at Dane and Jiro.

“Why, thank you,” Dane said in a dry voice. “Anything?”

“You name it,” Patch promised, his hand on his heart.

“Good, because here it is.” Dane leaned forward, his big elbows on the table. “Don’t let the past with Cyran poison what you have with Anneliese.”

“Or what you COULD have if you put the right effort into pursuing her,” Jiro added.

Caught off guard, Patch leaned back with a cavalier grin and looked at Dane and Jiro in turn. “Well, look at the two of you. Just a few months ago, one of you was fending off his current sister-in-law and fretting over his fated mate being a witch, and the other was swearing up and down he’d never find a mate, and as for Kyon–”

His second oldest brother’s massive hands came down on his shoulders like weights. “Are you sure you want to finish that sentence, pup?”

Patch looked up into Kyon’s brown eyes, identical to his own. His giant brother stared down at him seriously. “You … needed help courting Azandra,” he said.

Kyon shrugged, the motion rippling through his arms. “Can’t argue with that. But now, the tables have turned.”

Lilia agreed. “YOU need help to win over a certain pink-haired sophisticated witch, whom Azandra says might be your fated mate.”

And there it was. Patch had wondered, ever since he set eyes on Anneliese Chalice at the Bloodstone Shop in Wildefell, if this glorious, spirited, sassy creature could be his fated mate … after all, Dane successfully took a witch as a mate.

His wolf, Tiva, was sure that Anneliese was the one for him. She smelled like seawater. They had tremendous fun together at festivals. But the Pack Wise Woman typically confirmed fated mates, and with Tulaska lying in a coma, Kyon’s mate Azandra Hemming Cresta had stepped in as Evenhide Pack Wise Woman.

“Could be?” he asked. “I was hoping for more.”

Garnet looked sympathetic. “She’s just become the Acting Wise Woman. She’s being careful … it’s a lot of responsibility all at once.”

Patch shrugged. “‘Might be’ is better than nothing.”

If he knew Azandra, and he’d known her all their lives, she probably suspected Anneliese and Patch were fated mates but wanted to be absolutely sure.

Lilia’s purple gaze pinned him. “Even if Azandra does confirm it, you still have to court her, Patch. Be kind to her … Anneliese may be all style and sass on the surface, but she has a lot of expectations placed on her. The Witch Circle is breathing down her neck for results with Cyran. Mrs. Chalice can’t let up just because Anneliese happens to be her daughter. Both of them are under enormous pressure.”

Patch felt lower than if he’d fallen into the elevator shaft. He’d seen Anneliese in action, blasting Hades, freeing Garnet, battling her hardest. He could see the other witches look at her admiringly when she walked, barely touching the ground with her feet. She seemed to float much of the time. Except lately. Her spark was there, but it seemed a little burned out.

“I see your point. You know … I’ve got stories, jokes, and riddles I’ve been saving. Maybe Cyran would like to hear some of my funny poems.”

As he got up, all five surprised him with hugs of support. “We know you’ll do the right thing, pup,” Dane whispered, and Jiro ruffled his blond hair gently. Lilia kissed him on the cheek.

* * * * *

Anneliese POV

Weeks on end. Weeks on end that she’d been working to help her two silent and still patients, and what did she have to show for it?

Nothing. They looked as much like living death now as they had when the witches transported them to the Desperate Cases Room. They didn’t smell like living death or, in Cyran’s case, like whatever nauseatingly sweet drug Hades had dosed him with. But they didn’t smell like life, either. 

She never imagined, helping with Healing Circles in Wildefell from the time she could walk, that she would be trying to reach two people who might as well be encased in blocks of crystal for all the response she got. When she held Tulaska’s soft, limp hand, it felt warm and alive, at least. Cyran’s hand felt the same.

Cyran’s face took on a menacing snarl, which, coupled with the faded red and black tint on his face as a mark of dabbling in dark magic, made him look like a nasty customer. When she adjusted his pillow, he hissed at her, his only sign that he was even a tiny bit aware of her.

For this, she’d acted like a screaming devil hound with Patch. All he tried to do was bring light and sunshine into the lives of the Crimsontails, who were just coming out of the oversized shadow of Cyran and into the light.

With that big, infectious smile, he’d won the hearts of his pack and was rapidly winning over the Crimsontails who he’d hated … well, he’d won over Selene, anyway, and Garnet. What she loved most about Patch was that he had his older brothers’ sense of duty and responsibility, but he lived life with his whole heart and knew the value of an afternoon game of hide and seek or trying to win prizes at the Harvest Festival games not too long ago.

And she’d lectured him about his duty to the man who caused so much pain to his family. What in the name of the Twelve Sacred Witch Sites had she been thinking? Patch didn’t deserve any of that. He could cheer her up and make Lilia give him the world.

One flirty look from his sexy brown eyes made her weak in the knees. His body was petite but muscular, with the cutest behind she’d ever seen, surprisingly long legs for his stature, and a powerful chest, plus the most kissable lips she’d ever seen. When he laughed, full of life, she wanted to kiss him even more.

She should NOT be thinking about this right now. Nor his smooth, bright voice, so similar to another young man who swore on the Twelve Sacred Sites that he cherished her …

NO. Her faithless lover, Xidorn Reynard, had as much in common with Patch as the most shameless seducer of women had with a carefree, innocent schoolboy. 

A snarl interrupted her thoughts and she looked over to see Cyran gnashing his teeth and glaring around him with wild, scary eyes. His hand jerked up, as it sometimes did, and his claws appeared. He swiped at her with his claws and she scooted back, choking back a sob.

When she jumped back, Patch’s warm arms and chest surrounded her, and he held her comfortingly. “It’s all right. He can’t hurt you. He can’t hurt anyone right now.”

“I’m not afraid of him,” she admitted. “What if … what if the Dark Goddess comes back?”

“Then you and the other witches are going to kick her back to whatever nightmare realm she came from,” Patch said soothingly. “We’ll all help.”

She let herself melt into his embrace. “Oh, Patch. Thank you for being here.”