The Healer's Kiss: Book Four of the Forced To Serve Series by Donna McDonald Page B

around, staggering in shock when he saw the others still frozen around him.
    “Gwen— no ,” Dorian choked out in panic, feeling for her pulse and sagging with relief when he found she still lived. Turning to the other moving people in the room, he swore in Siren and started toward the female on the bed, intending to force her to release his mate before she went to meet her makers.
    “Dorian—stop! You don’t want to take that action yet,” Ania said, stopping her friend’s stride with a firm hand on his arm. “I can release them whenever I want, just like I did you. I only hesitate because something tells me not to do so yet.”
    “Are you sure they all live?” Dorian demanded.
    “Aye. I released you because I wanted you to hear this exchange. As my spiritual counselor, I need you to help guide my actions. I can’t afford to misuse the power over this being that the Creators have given me,” Ania exclaimed, squeezing hard to hold him back.
    Dorian yanked his arm away and took a calming breath. “Very well. Do you understand her intentions?”
    Ania shook her head. “No—I have no idea yet.”
    Dorian could tell this was a time to use logic, not emotion, but another glance at Gwen’s unmoving body alarmed him too much to focus on the higher path. “How can you be so calm? Do you not fear for your mate?” he demanded when he could no longer hold all the fear inside. He swore in Siren at his own distress and ran a restless hand through his hair. It wasn’t often that he came so close to a full emotional melt-down.
    Ania looked at Synar frozen in a mid-glare and smiled. “No. I do not fear Liam’s fate. Or at least not nearly as much as I fear using this power to evoke that same state in him whenever I wish. It would be a great temptation to me. I’m fairly sure I would prove unworthy to carry this gift for long.”
    Malachi laughed behind her and found himself quickly on the receiving end of Zade’s angry glare. “Sorry. Frozen mates are not funny—not funny at all,” he stated firmly, shaking his head and waving his hand apologetically at the worried Siren. “Your mate is fine lieutenant and totally unaware of her state. I swear by the Creators.”
    Ania sighed in response to Dorian’s sigh of distress. Playing nice was getting them nowhere, she decided, turning back to the female that had caused the situation. “I have suspected for some time now that this ship is under the greater protection of the Creators. They seem to be having a grand time wreaking havoc with crew members while each is set on whatever personal journey the Creators deem necessary for them.”
    “You expect me to believe the Creators talk to you about their will? Your energy is as dark as his,” Rena declared, tilting her chin towards Malachi, who arched a brow.
    “Like yours isn’t right now?” Malachi demanded in return. “You thought nothing of causing me pain even though I have yet to take any step to harm you or the sibling of your host body that you seem so fond of deceiving. So tell me, Rena Trax, or whoever you are, which of us is acting more from our dark side?”
    “You might have made some changes to your nature, but you’re still a demon,” Rena said firmly, ignoring his logic. What did he know of the burdens she bore? Had he responsibility for the spirits of others? For setting them on their path to redemption? No. He had not.
    Ania snorted and crossed her arms. “Your aversion to Malachi makes you a hypocrite. The being you call your sibling, the one you made sure joined our crew, has carried demon number three on board the Liberator. No one could consider that normal behavior for any servant of the Creators. The lesson you seem to be learning is one I accepted long ago. A being only has the power the Creators see fit to grant them—demon or not. Malachi is no different.”
    Rena sagged. “I concede to there being some wisdom in what you say about all creatures bowing to the will of the Creators. I