Dawn's Path: Completed Wor

The Native Dawn Series Book 11 Rogue Dawn book 7

Dawn's Path

Prologue

Angel pounded her fist against the table with such force that the cherry wood veneer splintered into toothpick sized shards. Angry didn't begin to define her reaction to Kayla's news. "I can't believe you're considering this!" she shouted. Rage tinted her normally brown eyes, infusing them with flares of gold and amber. Unblinking, Kayla stood across the table from her completely unaffected by the outburst. And her reaction or rather non-reaction made Angel seethe with fury. "How stupid are you?"

Kayla huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, casually regarding her friend. Ok, so she knew Angel wouldn't be giving her hugs and congratulations. But, she hadn't exactly expected her sort of best friend to resort to furniture abuse either. Kayla held her ground as Angel scrubbed her hand through her spiked hair and paced in agitation. "I guess I'm pretty damn stupid," she coolly replied. Unfettered by Angel's outburst and grateful for the table separating them, she jutted her chin out in defiance. "I don't care if you like it or not. It's my life and I'm doing this. I just thought you might like to know."

"Or your death," Angel rasped. Tugging on the ends of her hair in frustration she wished Kayla had picked someone else to confide in. The woman operated under the misconception that they were BFFs or something. They were friends...but not friends...and certainly not best friends. Know? Of course she didn't want to know. And this...Kayla stood there so calm and casual about the whole thing. As if it were no big deal. It was a big fucking deal. Angel noted the hard glint of determination in Kayla's aquamarine eyes and the steely set of her jaw. There were literally dozens of arguments she could use against what Kayla planned to do. But, not one of them was going to get through to her. What Kayla had just announced was the equivalent of suicide. And to think, she wanted her support.

"I've considered that possibility," Kayla said. What she was planning to do was risky. But, for a virtually eternal love, she considered it a chance she was willing to take. She thought if anyone might understand and just maybe support her decision. Angel would. Kayla was wrong about that one. Telling Angel had been a huge mistake. "It just makes sense. If I'm going to marry Bryce, I should be like he is."

Angel huffed at Kayla's logic. Kayla's reasoning was the stupidest thing she'd ever heard. Give up her life for love? Love? She stopped pacing long enough to pin Kayla with a hard glare, that and to show her a healthy flash of fang. The woman had no idea what she as asking or what she was giving up. "I suppose he's going to do the honors personally?" she asked. Her voice riddled with sarcasm.

Kayla visibly bristled from the acidic tone in her voice. Angel knew if she pushed it much farther, Kayla would just shut her down completely. She tried a different tactic to combat Kayla's line of thought. There had to be some way to get through to her before it was too late. Angel mentally scrabbled for the right words to say to make Kayla question her decision. It wasn't too late for her to change her mind. Kayla still had a choice and she could choose differently. "If Bryce is so in love with you, shouldn't he be happy with you just the way you are? Why do you have to change for him?"

Kayla should have expected this from Angel. She'd asked it herself that same question at least a hundred times. And each time her answer was exactly the same. Giving up her life wasn't something she planned to do on a whim. Her decision was permanent and once she carried it through, there was no going back. Ever. "This is what I want, Angel."

"Why," Angel asked. There was a sincerity and urgency to her question she didn't try to hide. Kayla had everything. She held the brass ring in her hand and she was willing to give it up. If Angel could trade her places, she'd grab onto that ring and run like hell. Find some normal place to live. Work a normal job. And surround herself with normal people. And just be ...normal. Kayla could do that. She didn't have to be this... thing that she was considering turning into. Love wasn't worth it.

Kayla didn't expect Angel to understand the reasons behind her decision. Respect her decision, yes. But, understand it, never. Angel was so closed off and terrified of real emotions, real contact beyond the superficial, that she would never comprehend something deeper, like love. Not because she wasn't capable of it. She just would never let her guard down enough to let anybody in. Angel only got so close to people before she shut them out. Too much had happened in her past. And rather than face it, she preferred to hide behind it and use it as an excuse to push everybody away.

Angel had never been in love. Never felt the urgency of knowing one lifetime with the man you love would never be enough. Death was the ultimate cheat. And for Kayla, it didn't have to be. Steeling her resolve, she braced herself for the repercussions of her answer. "Because, I love him. Bryce isn't asking me to change for him. But, I can give him more than just a few decades together. And this is my wedding gift to him...to us. We can have forever."

Angel opened her mouth to unleash a tirade of snarky rebuttals and then quickly snapped it shut. There was no way she was going to win this debate and convince Kayla to change her mind. Unleashing a barrage of verbal assaults wasn't going to accomplish anything except destroying the fragile friendship they struggled to maintain. She had no options left. Either she was going to get on board with Kayla's plan or she was going to lose one of the few people on earth she actually trusted. "When?"

"Tonight." Kayla winced at the pain in Angel's expression. She'd made the decision the minute Bryce slid the engagement ring on her finger. They'd talked about it long and hard. Considered every angle and possible outcome. Bryce sugarcoated nothing. He also didn't try to persuade or dissuade her. He'd left the final decision up to her.

Bryce and Angel were as different as night and day in their view of the world. And it was because of choice. He'd had one. Angel hadn't. Bryce saw his condition as a gift. That wasn't the case with her. To her, it was a curse. A reminder of a past she could not escape. Sure, Bryce was scared. She was scared. And she understood that Angel was scared for her too. There was always a chance things wouldn't work out the way she hoped. She could die for nothing more than a glimmering promise of a forever that might not happen.

"Fuck, Kayla, tonight?" Angel exhaled and dragged her hands through her hair. She glared at the clock mounted on the dining room wall. The clock ticked softly, counting down the hours, minutes, and the seconds left. Kayla's life was measured in the inexorable swing of the brass pendulum. Back and forth it swung without pause. Kayla had less than twelve hours. Angel wanted to rip the clock from the wall and smash it to bits. Stop the brass pendulum from swinging. Stop time from racing forward in the blink of an eye. She shook her head in denial. Eleven hours and fifty-three minutes and ten seconds. And the damn pendulum kept right on swinging, mocking her with the rightness of its every pass back and forth.

"Angel," Kayla said softly. "You'll be there wont you? Tonight?" Somehow, not telling Angel didn't seem right. They'd been through so many things together. More than any two women should. And not any of it had been good. If things went to shit, she just wanted Angel to have at least an explanation as to why she'd chosen what she had. And she'd want the chance...this chance... to tell her goodbye.

Angel could not take the deafening tick of the clock another second. A walk. She needed to get out of this place and the walls that were closing in around her. Distance was good. The only defense she had against time and Kayla. She could not tolerate the hopefulness in Kayla's expression. Dying for love. Love? What was that? And why die for something so fleeting as love? Love was temporary. But, death...death was forever. Turning on her heel to leave the dining room and her friend, taking in air past the thick lump in her throat, she nodded and said, "Sure, I'll be there."

Kayla watched Angel go without trying to stop her. Kayla was asking her to relive a nightmare. She would have understood if Angel had said no. Angel cared deeply. She hid behind a wall of scowls and cold standoffishness. In ways, Kayla doubted if anyone had ever gotten more than just a glimpse of who Angel truly was beneath the surface. Angel excluded herself from too much. She stood in the background and never let herself get close to anybody. Kayla knew the reasons why Angel hid from her past and her pain. That she'd agreed to be there tonight was enough.

Contemplating what to do with the rest of her day, Kayla glanced at the clock. Time seemed to pass so much quicker when it was running out. Angel had stared at the clock hanging on the dining room wall as if it were a bitter enemy she could not defeat. Kayla didn't see it that way. Time was a simply a formality and nothing more. Soon, it wouldn't matter to her at all. Hours, days, weeks, months, years didn't matter when you had a limitless supply of them.

Angel ran. She always ran. Away. From people, from her pain, and from her past, but, she never fast enough, never far enough. And it always caught up with her. She stood at the highest point of the bluffs on a narrow cleft of bleak gray shale, overlooking a pale, icy, winter-white landscape and barren skies. An eerie wind howled winter's lonely cry. Tossed about by the force of the gale. Powder sugar snow swirled in vortexes across the rock. The cold was relentless. Numbing. Freezing her to her very soul until it was as cold, gray, and barren as the scenery around her.

Closing her eyes against all the lifelessness of winter, Angel wished for spring. A time when things were fresh and new, bursting with life. A time when the lush green of growing things, lemon yellow sunlight, and soft, warm breezes whispered promises of tomorrow. A time when even the very air seemed to shimmer with hope and anything seemed possible, even outrunning her past.

Chapter 1

Angel balanced on the rocky precipice, looking down at the bonfire. The flames danced merrily in the darkness. Their orange tongues lapped at the spring sky, wiggling wildly, as if they could taste the stars twinkling just out of their reach. She was hiding. These days she was always hiding. Dodging the terror better known as Bridezilla. Tonight was the night. THE NIGHT. And she had been dreading it for weeks.

Kayla and Bryce were finally tying the knot. Angel had been flattered, hell flabbergasted, when Kayla had asked her to be a bridesmaid. And even though she'd had a vague idea of what the job description entailed when she'd agreed. She'd failed miserably. When she refused to meet Kayla's unreasonable demands and trade in her black leathers for a ridiculous lavender, taffeta dress and shiny white stiletto heels. Argued that there was no reason to order a champagne fountain and a four-tier wedding cake with peach frosting since nobody would eat it anyway. And grouched about how silly it was to make all those damn bags filled with birdseed. She'd found herself promptly relieved of her official duties and demoted to guest status.

Angel remembered the look of sheer terror that filled Kayla's eyes before she lost consciousness as the last of her blood was drained away and her heart beat one final time. In those seconds terror unlike anything Angel had ever known held her immobile. As Kayla lie cold and dead in Bryce's arms, as Bryce tried to coax the blood that would give her life down her throat, Angel's heart had stopped too. Bryce's blood, his very life, rolled down Kayla's chin to gather into a clotted thick puddle on the snowy ground. Kayla was gone. Stolen away by love.

Kayla had to live. Kayla was the only friend she'd ever had. And if she died, Angel didn't have any reason to believe in anything. And she so desperately needed to believe in something good instead of everything bad. In her urgency to pull Kayla back from the brink, she'd dropped to her knees, squeezed Kayla's cold, mottled fingers in her hand, and made a promise. The words she'd whispered so urgently in Kayla's ear had worked. Kayla latched onto Bryce's wrist and drank down every drop of the life he bled back into her.

Oh, the company was congenial enough, the accommodations fitting, and at first, Angel had relished the idea of finally belonging somewhere and fitting in. The closeness of it all and the togetherness everyone seemed to share. It was the knowledge that in an instant it could be gone that terrified her. Loss couldn't hurt her, if she had nothing of value to lose.

Duty bound her to Kayla. Duty kept her stationary. Only duty and that was it. She was rooted in the spot, here, because of that damn promise. At least, that was the lie she told herself. Angel felt the ache of longing deep in the very core of her being. The thought of friendships and home brought a flash of pain to her chest and stirred feelings that she'd hidden away long ago. Caring about other people meant opening yourself up to bitter hurt when they turned on you. And in her life, she'd had more than her share of pain. There were no exceptions to the rule. Not even Kayla was completely exempt.

Angel was an equal opportunity skeptic when it came to people and their true motives. Everybody wanted something. It was only a question of what. Angel's solution was one of practicality. Case in point. Kayla was one of the few, still exempt, of course. But, nonetheless, she was as close as Angel allowed anyone to get. And Kayla hadn't hesitated to hand her a pink slip the first time Angel had refused to bend to her will. Lavender was a stupid color anyway. And so, here she sat, as usual, on the outside looking in. Observing everything, but never really belonging anywhere.

Every night, Angel pulled her shifts. Made her route through the now familiar woods, patrolling them for any sign of danger. And everyday she returned to her quarters to sleep in her bed, alone. Just the way she wanted it. Exactly the way it had to be. Maybe, she was a coward in keeping everyone out. But, she liked to consider herself as just being cautious.

"I thought I'd find you here," Lance said. He leapt across a wide gulf between the sheer cliffs and landed on the narrow ledge Angel usually used as a perch from which she viewed the world. He could tell from the furrowing of her brows and the scowl on her expression that he'd interrupted one of her intensely dark brooding moments. And damn, did his dark angel love to brood.

Angel had no idea how much prettier she'd be if she'd smile once in a while. But, if she did, she wouldn't be her. Or at least the version of her persona she showed the world. He'd guessed a long time ago that there was more to her and more behind the scowl she wore firmly in place. He'd gotten a smile out of her, once or twice. And, because they were so rare, they were all the more beautiful when they happened.

Compact, standing no taller than five foot-two and clad totally in black from head to toe. Angel was a pint-sized ball of pure fury that only someone with a death wish would provoke. If not for her perpetual scowl, her almond shaped brown eyes, pert nose, and delicate bone structure might have made her features appear ultra feminine instead of terrifying. Her lips were full and soft. Perfect for kissing. And he could attest to that. He'd conned her into kissing him, just once, and had ended up with a broken nose for the trouble. But, damn had that kiss been worth it.

Angel had the whole 'don't fuck with me' vibe down to an art form. He didn't buy it though. Deep down she wanted someone to notice her. Someone brave enough to work past her defenses and find the real woman hidden beyond the spiked hair and ever present scowl that marred her expression. She tried so hard to keep everyone at a distance. Too bad he didn't have the common sense most people did to leave her alone. On the night they met, he'd been chasing her. And he'd chased after her every day since.

"What do you want?" Hoping he'd just leave, Angel glared at Lance with every bit of disdain she could muster. Lance was one of those devastatingly handsome guys that drew females to them like bees to honey. And he knew it. He was straight-teeth and rugged, intimate, rakish grins. A strong jaw line and cleft chin lent to his appeal. His white-blond hair swooped carelessly out of his eyes, to dip beneath the collar of his black jacket, gave him a sort of bad boy aura. Dark expressive brows and long lashes framed his brown, almost black, eyes. And they were focused on her. They were always focused on her.

Lance was tall. Towering over her with a body built for speed and the endurance of a long distance runner with long muscular legs, narrow hips, and a lean waist. Cockily, as if he were daring her to contradict him or worse challenge him. He made no secret of his attraction to her. Not that it mattered. The attraction no matter how mutual it was. Would not be reciprocated. Angel wanted no complications in her life as dangerously handsome as Lance.

Despite his reputation as a player amongst the brotherhood, Lance was one of the good guys. He had proven his friendship to her time and time again. He'd been there for her through some of the darkest hours of her life. When she fell, he was the one who picked her up, dusted her off, and set her on her feet again. He'd never asked her for anything in return. And that was what made him so dangerous to her. She didn't want to depend on anybody. She couldn't afford the luxury of letting her guard down for a single minute. Angel couldn't hurt him though. Instead of encouraging him and letting him know how much she appreciated he was who he was. She did the most sensible thing any girl could do in the situation. She hid.

"The mistress beckons." He grinned almost snickering as Angel rolled her brown eyes at him. Singeing him with nothing more than a single glare where he stood. "Hey." He held up his hands in surrender and stepped a few inches away from her. "Don't shoot the messenger." He knew Angel's moods well and the eye roll was like the peel of thunder before a storm.

They were partners in the field. Lance had made the arrangement by calling in a hefty favor from Patrick. It seemed that not everybody was as squeamish or hell bent on following the rules as Dane. And Patrick, in a show of solidarity, had been more than willing to assign Angel as his partner. The assumption was a gamble. Lance was willing to bet that the more time he spent with Angel. The more likely he was to figure out a way around or through that tough armor of hers. If nothing else, he'd pick at it bit by bit until he wore her down. Eventually, she'd stop shutting him out and let him in.

"She can forget it," Angel huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. She packed the mandatory, regulation brotherhood version of the 'bat phone' with her everywhere she went. Kayla could have called instead of sending Lance to fetch her. Well, Kayla might have been able to call if Angel hadn't turned the ringer off. "Besides, I'm busy. If her bridesmaid ditched her, she can find somebody else to do it."

"I don't think that's what she wants." Lance took a daring step closer, backing Angel to the steep edge of the narrow outcropping. She had every intention of shutting Kayla out. Much as she'd tried to shut him out more times than he could count. Usually, he'd let it slide. Not today though. Bryce was his best friend. And he deserved a happy bride on his wedding day. And damn it. He was going to get it. Even if Lance had to throw Angel over his shoulder and cart her to Kayla's room kicking and screaming to make it happen.