Read Inseverable: A Carolina Beach Novel Online
Authors: Cecy Robson
Inseverable: A Carolina Beach Novel (34 page)
Emme’s always been so sweet and angelic. Me? Not at all. “Hey, do you suppose Celia’s more flexible now, given how Aric knocked her up? As in ankles behind the head kind of flexible―”
Emme lifts a muffin with her
force
and sends it zipping my way. I catch it in my hand before it rams me in the mouth. “Eat,” she insists. “Just eat.”
In other words, for once in your life, shut your inappropriate trap.
Shayna takes a seat beside me, laughing her skinny ass off. Emme sits, too, in time for Celia to stagger down the back steps.
Good God. Celia’s long curly hair is tousled from lack of sleep and the insane amount of sex she’s had. And her eyes? They’re glazed with a hunger that warns me not to get too close. “Is there bacon? Please tell me there’s bacon,” she growls as if crazed.
Her entire face beams when Emme levitates a plateful of bacon and lowers it front of an empty seat. Like a woman possessed, Celia sits and rams about four pieces in her mouth at once. The rest of us watch her in stunned silence as she chomps them down and reaches for another few slices. She freezes when she realizes we’re all gaping at her. “Sorry. Would you like some?”
Her tigress eyes replace her human ones, making it clear she’s only trying to be polite. And that only an idiot would get between her and her breakfast.
“No, nope, uh-uh,” the three of us answer at once.
This seems to settle her inner beast enough so Celia’s human eyes once more blink back at us. I pour her a glass of juice, while Emme and Shayna carefully place plates stacked with food closer to her reach. What can I say, we don’t want to be eaten.
“Are you all right?” Emme asks her quietly.
It’s only then that Celia slows her frantic munching. “I don’t know,” she admits, her husky voice trickling with concern. She lifts her T-shirt and shows us her tiny belly. “The baby’s not growing.”
Yeah. We noticed that, too. Her pregnancy had been unexpected given she was incapable of bearing children. But within two weeks of finding out she and Aric had conceived, her baby bump had appeared and was visible through her wedding gown.
That was two months ago. And now, well, let’s say despite how this baby has been prophesized to rid the world of evil, we’re all pretty much freaking out that he or she isn’t growing.
“But your body’s changing,” I insist. I don’t exactly ooze optimism. In fact, I’m mostly the sky is falling and the earth is swallowing us whole kind of gal. But Celia doesn’t need to hear what’s wrong. My girl needs hope so that’s what I give her. I point to her chest. “If your hooters don’t scream you’re knocked up, I don’t know what does.”
She glances at her girls and then back at me, the tension in her shoulders lifting slightly. Yeah. Hope is exactly what she needs.
“They are a lot bigger,” she agrees quietly. She gathers her thoughts, appearing to want to say more despite her obvious hesitation. “My body’s changing in a lot of ways. Maybe not outwardly, but I can feel the difference inside of me.”
“Like in your magic, dude?” Shayna asks.
Celia nods. “The magic that helped me get pregnant seems to compliment mine. But I have to say, my hormones are out of control.” Her cheeks flush and she lowers her voice. “Poor Aric. I can’t stop having sex with him. It’s like every time I see him, I pounce.”
It’s then Aric bounds down the steps, his eyes glassy from lack of sleep and his five o’clock shadow now a full-out beard thanks to his preference to satisfy Celia’s needs instead shave. His face lights up when he sees Celia―kind of like she did at the sight of bacon.
“Yeah, poor bastard,” I mutter.
“Hey, beautiful,” he says to Celia, bending to kiss her lips.
She smiles against his mouth. “Hey, wolf,” she answers, stroking his beard lightly.
Emme inches away when Celia’s stare suggests the need for something more than breakfast. Aric, being Aric, returns that look with equal force. I start to laugh, not because of Celia and Aric, but because of Emme’s response. She’s glancing around at the food like she knows it’s going to end up splattered across Celia and Aric’s soon-to-be naked bodies.
My laugh lodges in my throat when my right arm jerks as if shocked. Shayna lowers her fork. “You okay, T?” she asks.
I shove my arm under the table. “Fine,” I say. I reach for glass of juice with my opposite hand, trying to stay calm. Celia and Emme didn’t notice my twitch, and I don’t think Aric did either, but something about me lures his attention away from Celia.
He cocks his head, his nose flaring as if his alpha wolf has latched onto something. “Taran, what’s wrong?” he asks.
Celia’s and Emme’s attention drifts my way. Shayna rises, fear crinkling her brow.
“I’m tired,” I say dismissively, feeling my pulse start to race. I push my chair out. “I should head back to bed. I didn’t sleep much―”
All at once, and without warning, pain burns its way across my affected limb, curling me forward in agony. My arm whips out, sending the table and all its contents soaring with freakish speed. Plates shatter on the floor as the table imbeds with a loud bang
into
the wall―directly where Celia sat seconds before.
I lift my head as the burn recedes, searching for her―panicked I harmed her. Tears of relief and residual pain slide down my face when I see Aric lower her to floor, far away from me. She and our sisters stare back at me stunned. But Aric? Holy shit, he’s
pissed
.
“Taran, what are you doing?” he growls.
I shake my head, knowing he’s angry I almost hurt Celia. “I’m not doing anything . . .”
The burn returns and so does its torment. This time, I can’t bite back my screams. I stumble forward. Aric races to me. I don’t see him. I only feel his body and hear the crunch of bone when my arm flails and connects with his jaw.
He crashes against our granite counter with a grunt as my arm jerks wildly and the burn increases tenfold.
My vision fades in and out and my body thrashes, the erratic movements of my limb sending me to smack hard against the wall. I collapse, my arm beating itself against the floor with enough force to splinter and punch through the wood. I’m not thinking. I can’t. Everything hurts.
No. Everything
burns
.
“Cut it off!” I scream.
Shayna reaches for a knife, elongating it with her power and manipulating it into a deadly sword. She lifts the blade above my spastic arm, her expression torn. By now I’m sobbing, and all but clawing at my face.
“
Please
, Shayna,” I beg. “Cut it off!”
“I can’t,” Shayna chokes out. “I can’t do this.”
“Pin it,” Celia yells. “Pin it to the floor!”
With a flick of her wrists Shayna changes the sword’s position and brings the point down toward my raging hand. I barely feel the prick before the room erupts in a ghostly light and Shayna goes flying.
Emme screams as Shayna collides into the far wall. Aric and Celia are scrambling forward, but all thoughts are lost in my torture. I’m retching with how hard I’m crying and from the anguish crawling from my arm and into my chest.
Just as the burn reaches my heart, and I begin to lose consciousness, a pale yellow light surrounds me. Slowly, very slowly, the heat charring my insides is replaced with a soothing chill I welcome like a draw of fresh air.
My body shudders as the coolness spreads like a cascade of water from a gentle spring. With each sensation of cold, my pain eases and my cries dwindle. It takes a long time for the ache to lessen, and even longer for my vision to clear. But eventually it does.
Not that I like what I see.
Blood cakes the side of Shayna’s face. She winces as the bone along her eye socket pops out and her eyebrow knits close. Bile churns my gut. If Koda hadn’t passed her his werewolf essence, I would have killed her. There’s no doubt based on the amount of blood coating her skin, and what her body had to do to heal her indented skull.
I cover my mouth. “Oh, my God,” I gasp.
“It’s okay, T,” she says, as if I can’t see the pain tightening her small pixie face. “It’s okay.”
No. Not at all, sweetie.
Aric leans forward. Being all
were
, and that of pure blood, his inner beast had healed him faster than Shayna. That didn’t mean I hadn’t made rubble out of his jaw, or that I hadn’t hurt him . . . Or that I won’t do it again.
I had no control over my arm. None. Nor do I believe I have it now.
Aric realizes as much. I don’t miss how he keeps Celia behind him, appearing to shield her and their child from whatever way I’ll lash out next.
“What happened?” he asks, his voice riddled with anger, and maybe something more.
“I don’t know,” I respond, my voice trembling and my body strangely weak. “I felt pain and it-it just went wild.”
“Your arm?” It’s a question, but he’s not really asking.
I nod as Emme’s healing light recedes and her hands withdraw from my shoulders. Her face is unusually pale. She swallows hard, struggling to speak. “It’s her fire,” she says, barely above a whisper. She looks at Aric. “It’s eating her alive . . .”
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