by Elissa Daye
Lysandra squeezed her eyes shut one more time, hoping that the haze around her would disappear long enough for her to figure out where she was. When she opened them, the mist had cleared around her. She felt as if she was looking at the world for the very first time as fresh light shone brightly around her. She was standing among a forest of towering trees; her toes were delving into the small bank of a creek that was somehow familiar. If she wanted to continue on her current path she would have to wade through the creek to get to the other side. She picked up the skirt of her dress and waded into the cold water. Chills ran up her shoulders and the slight wobble of her lips told her that she needed to get out of this water as soon as possible. She trudged through as quickly as she could before her numb legs could give out on her.
When she climbed out the other side she shook off as much of the water as she could. She sat down, huddled amidst the dry skirts of her dress and took a few deep, stilling breaths. She almost expected to see the puff of breath from her mouth escape in tiny rings of fog, but the air around her was actually quite warm. She stood up as soon as her legs thawed enough to keep moving. She gave a passive glance back to the frigid waters.
As she continued through the forest she heard the faint clash of steel upon steel and voices that were almost muffled. Again she found herself amidst a forest that was oddly familiar. She looked around desperately for some sort of clue to let her know where she was. When she looked closer to the trees around her she found they were marked much like trees near any city or town with three small nails. When she stepped closer she let out a cry of recognition. These were not just any nails, as the head of every nail was painted red and tied with a yellow ribbon. She would recognize this combination anywhere, and yet she was surprised that she had not noticed them at once. These were from Elkliss, which meant she was in the forest outside her beloved home.
Lysandra paused for only a moment as she ran a gentle finger over the nail on the tree. She moved forward swiftly, skirting every tree until she ran into the clearing that would lead her home. She saw the lovely jasmine flowers around her and almost squealed in delight. She was so close to her home that it was like a dream come true. When she looked up, in the distance she saw large grey clouds circling the walls of Elkliss. With each step she took forward, the swordplay she had faintly heard grew. The shouts and screams were so loud that they echoed around the clearing. A body fell over the walls that protected the keep and Lysandra knew at once that something very wrong was happening before her eyes.
She ran to the gates, a protective fire burning within her. The gate to Elkliss lay on the ground in splinters and when she rushed inside the gates, she was yanked to the side. “What are you doing here, my lady? You must leave at once.”
She stared at the young squire before her. She blinked in confusion at him. It was then that she realized her reality was off. It all came crashing back to her in wave after miserable wave of memories. Devon was dead. They all were dead. The scene shifted before her eyes as the fighting stopped, the smoky haze ceased, and the bodies fell to the ground no longer animated. Lysandra fell to her knees. Her beloved home. Dead before her eyes, for Elkliss was nothing without the heart of its people. She had been the only survivor from that day and she still could not understand why her life had been spared.
Tears invaded her eyes as a damming river of sorrows pooled behind them. When was the last time she had thought of her people? She had been so engrossed with her angst lately that she had not thought to mourn those that had gone before her. Wretched sobs stung her throat, for she still did not deserve the peaceful release they would bring.
A hand reached her shoulders; its soft fingertips pulled her hair away from her neck. “Rise, Lysandra. Sorrow is not the answer.”
Lysandra pushed up so fast that her legs almost fell out from beneath her. It could not be, but there she stood, tall and proud before her. “Mother?”
“My little rose, so grown up.” There were tears in her eyes as Alycia reached out to hug her daughter.
“But you’re—well, Mother, I thought you were—”
“Dead, my love? Yes. I am no longer with the land of the living, Lysandra.”
“But…” Lysandra’s mind reached for all the endless possibilities, but latched on to the one idea that made sense. “Am I dead?”
“Oh goodness, no. You are simply stuck between here and there.”
“How did this happen, Mother?” Lysandra tried to remember the last thing that had happened to her. Her mind was a little foggy right now and the only thing she could remember was Elkliss, her family, her people, and her duty to remember them.
“Lysandra, you do not belong to Elkliss anymore. You are forging a new path, a new life filled with new people to give yourself to.”
“But I don’t remember them, Mother. Who? Where?”
Alycia looked down sadly at her and shook her head. “You’ve given your heart away, Lysandra. And now that you have, your fear is keeping you from returning. Do not fear, my child. It will come back to you when you have the courage to let go.”
“I love someone?” Lysandra searched deep within herself. She saw hazel eyes illuminating the darkness within her, eyes that fit the man and the wolf. She closed her eyes and could almost feel his hands softly caressing her face. When she breathed in, she could smell the scent of leather and wood.
“Lysandra, our lineage makes it impossible to fall for someone without losing everything we are to them. Do not be afraid of this, for the heart does not lead us in the wrong direction.”
“What if he does not love me back?”
“Then you let the magic build enough love for both of you. It is the way of the Adrianic women. We love one man, deeply and passionately, and one man only for a lifetime.”
“I don’t know if that is enough, Mother. I’ve already lost everything.” She felt bitterness covering her heart. She was remembering Aiden’s proclamation to her. He would never love anyone. His heart was closed to it.
Alycia held her close to her. She stroked her hair gently, and sang a soothing lullaby from her childhood. Lysandra’s heart was just beginning to heal from losing her home and family.
Falling in love for the first time was something new and altogether confusing. It was normal for her to want to run from herself. It was good to feel the comfort of her mother’s touch. She wished her mother could tell her that everything would be all right, but no one could ever give her that guarantee. Love was an awkward emotion, sometimes it could lift you up and sometimes it let you down. Lysandra would have been happy if her marriage showed half as much potential as her parents’ marriage had.
Sometimes she tired of the fight. She would give anything to be a child back at Elkliss, safely hidden away from the future that had awaited her. She was not ready to turn back to the reality that faced her. Lysandra would go back when she was ready. When that would happen she did not know, but she did know that eventually she would have to.
“Lysandra, my child. You have a path you are destined to follow without me. I must go.”
Lysandra looked up at her mother one last time and attempted to smile. The images around her changed and she saw the battle of Elkliss no longer. She was in a forest of trees with sun streaming down on her through the spaces between the branches. She sat down on the forest floor and put her head on her knees. She let the silence of stillness fill her, but echoes of memories tiptoed across her mind. Lysandra lifted up her face to the sun’s warming rays while the devastation of loneliness rocked through her. She was not ready to return. She needed a lot more strength before she did.
Chapter 27
Aiden watched as Lysandra’s sleep became fitful. For a moment he thought she was fighting her way back, but the tossing and turning finally stopped. He refused to give up hope that she would return to him. The people of Blackwolf needed her and, even though it was hard to admit, he needed her too. He had no idea that he could feel this alone without her in his life. He clung to the memori
es of her beaming smile, the smell of jasmine in her hair, and the heat that burned in her eyes before she climaxed with him. In her fleeting absence he missed all of these things. Everything he had known to be true in life had changed and he was left feeling achingly raw and hollow at the same time. He was empty without her.
Against all the bickering between him and the women, he had finally given in to their requests. They rotated shifts during the day so that Aiden could get some rest. He loathed leaving her side, but he knew that even though he wanted to be there every second of the day the exhaustion was wearing on him. He was no good to her if he could not function enough to stay awake. He spent the night in the other room in a fitful sleep. The fear inside him was the same fear he carried with him before the moon fully lit up the sky. It was fear of the unknown, fear over his lack of control. It ate at him everywhere he turned and he could not evade it, even in his sleep.
He dreamed of her each time he closed his eyes. Every moment in time was captured inside like a fragile flower that was here one instant, gone the next. He held onto her image as he slept, waking up only to find he was alone in a bed without her curved at his side. He yearned to reach out to her, shake her free from her deep sleep, to rant at her to come back to him. She was his, after all. She would always belong to him, but it was not the amount of gold that he had paid for her that made her shackled to him for life. It was the beast that cried out inside of him, that fed the emotions beneath the surface. The beast that helplessly compelled him to take her when he’d first found her. She was his mate. She matched him in every way. He would not lose her. She had to come back to him. She had tamed the beast within more than any mate ever could. They were destined to be together, of this he was sure. If she never returned back to this earth the beast inside the man would never be tamed again. The man would lose everything to the wolf.
When days turned into a week, one week turned into two, the moon’s rays began to eat away at him. Aiden longed to be normal, to be able to safely stay at Lysandra’s side no matter what face the moon hung in the sky, but he had no choice. He did not think he would ever harm her, but sometimes the wildness took over him immediately and he lost control. He had to get away from Blackwolf when it did. Tonight he was feeling especially rabid, for anguish lit his soul on fire. There was no escape from the pain that sliced through every inch of his heart. He looked to Lysandra’s women to guard her safely as he walked quietly from the keep.
He went deep into the forest, as far as his feet could carry him. Aiden crossed the path he had taken many times before, stood next to the tree marked with the lash of his claws. He placed a finger against the tree and felt the stillness of the night hit him. His pack had given him a wide berth, their respect for the emotions that raced through him was clear. He removed his clothing and felt his body contort angrily as it unleashed the raging beast within. He let his fear, anguish, painful insecurities, and anger out in one long, savage howl. It cut across the silence and echoed beyond the deep stillness of the forest floor as the silver wolf cried for its mate.
The sorrow enraged him and the anger started to build. He ran at the trees around him, gnashing his teeth viciously at the large shadows they cast. His claws dug deep into the earth and sent a typhoon of dirt into the air. His growl reverberated fiercely and his eyes narrowed into small slits. There was only one target that would make him feel any better.
He raised his head and smelled the air with nostrils flaring menacingly. The hair on the back of his neck pricked in warning and he turned to find the one who had been the cause of his turmoil. Terryn’s beastly shape had crept upon him quietly during his ranting and was now trying to sneak an attack. Aiden tilted his head calculatingly at Terryn and bared his sharp teeth in warning. Aiden did not make it a point to go after those of his own kind, but Terryn had attacked his home first. Terryn had been attacking him for as long as he could remember and no code of ethics would stop him any longer. He crouched low on his back haunches and waited for the moment Terryn decided to come closer. The hate in his eyes burned holes in his opponent, deep into the dark soul that lounged beneath.
The black wolf bared his teeth in response, flashed his brown eyes at Aiden and a low, guttural growl passed through them. He scratched the dirt with his back paws to indicate that he accepted the challenge. Terryn leapt at him, but Aiden was prepared. He rolled away from the fangs that attempted to puncture the scruff of his neck and sprang back into action. His claws reached for Terryn’s face, slicing through the skin along his jaw line. Terryn shook off the blood that ran down his face and his venomous sneer gathered once more.
This time it was Aiden’s turn to leap at Terryn. His shape arced gracefully through the sky, stopping only once his teeth had leveraged a hold on Terryn’s shoulder. His body wrenched back and forth through the air as the black wolf jerked around to shake him free, but Aiden’s jaw was clamped firmly on its prey. Terryn yelped in pain as he tried to shake him off one last time.
A voice echoed on the wind, but only Aiden seemed to hear it. “Aiden. Where are you?” It was Lysandra. She was reaching out to him and his hair fluffed up on his spine. He promptly let go of Terryn and trotted away from his quarry. He did not even turn to look back at his foe as he left the forest behind him. He missed the calculating stare that blinked back in the darkness.
When Aiden finally reached the keep, he continued the path up to his room. His feet clopped loudly up the stairs until his nails tapped out a litany of scratches on the bedroom door. The door was opened cautiously and, when he entered, Aiden ignored the fear within Millie’s eyes.
She bowed before him swiftly and opened it completely. “She calls for you, yet she slumbers still. Layla is getting more broth for her.”
Aiden nudged Millie away from the room with his nose and, when the door closed behind him, he moved slowly over to Lysandra’s body. He could hear her gentle breaths fill the air and they seemed peaceful. An arm had come loose from her blanket and her hand dangled awkwardly over the edge of the bed. Aiden licked the fingertips delicately and nuzzled her hand back underneath the covers. He jumped on the bed beside her and crept beneath the covers.
“Aiden.” A murmur escaped Lysandra’s mouth and he was filled with jubilation. Her voice was reaching for him across the gap in ways her physical body could not. It calmed the wildness within and he relaxed next to her as tame as a gentle pup. Her hand reached for him in the darkness and his heart leapt for joy as arms circled around him. She sighed deeply and, while he knew she was still asleep, there was hope that tomorrow could be a much better day for her. He put his nose in his paws and let his eyelids closed warily. His soul was weary with an exhaustion that was catching up to him.
When Aiden awoke he was lying beside Lysandra, a blanket haphazardly covering his naked body. He heard the loud clucking of the mother hens and turned to see Millie’s sarcastic glare. He rose swiftly from bed, ignoring the eyes roving over his body. He grabbed some clothing and left the room to bathe away the night. He needed to separate his thoughts and feelings from the surface before he returned. He spent the day going over the accounts, much as he did every month, although most of the people who came to him with problems seemed to do so with weary hearts. Each and every one of them asked after their lady and some had even come bearing gifts for her recovery. The heart of Blackwolf was beating, but the sorrow of its master was clear to each of them.
When he returned back to his room, concern was etched on April’s face. Her eyes told a story far deeper than any words could have. Lysandra was in great danger. “What does she need?”
“I wish I knew, Lord Aiden. She has not responded to any medicine I have given her. She should have awakened by now.” Her breath caught in her throat as she stifled the sob that threatened to escape her. “I’m afraid, my lord. I have nothing left to offer her. I’ve done everything I know. Her fever has risen even further.”
“Go, April. Get some rest. I will watch over her.” Aiden watched her shoulders slump
over in defeat as she walked out the door. He refused to give in to such a notion. He would not give up, not on Lysandra, never.
He moved back the covers from her burning body and started his daily ministrations of washing every inch of her. The cold water stung his fingers, but he ignored the sensations. His hands would outlast the cold from the water long after they had dried. He spooned hot soup into her mouth, doing the best he could to keep every drop from spilling. She never turned away the liquid broth, even when he expected her to cough it up. He opened the windows to let in fresh air for a change, hoping the cool air could reach her wherever her soul hid.
He undressed and crawled under the covers beside her. He gathered her as close as he could, so that every inch of her flesh was cradled against his. The heat of her skin seared his and the guilt inside him grew. For the first time in years he felt water gather at the rims of his eyes, fall slowly down his face, and splash helplessly against her neck. “Please don’t leave me, my love. The world would be a much darker place without your light.”
He stroked her hair softly and breathed in her scent. Even among all the sickly vapors in this room he could still smell the jasmine layered within the dark tresses. “Lysandra, please. Come back to me.” He held her in his arms for hours, talking to her so long that his voice started to get hoarse. He told her about his life as a child, the first time he changed forms, about Lady Selia’s capture, about the first time he saw her in Ghelli House, anything to bring her closer to him. At one point he felt her body shift into his, and in that moment in time he had hope. His energy started to fade and the days had finally taken a toll on him. He soon found himself drifting into a deep sleep.
Chapter 28
Daylight slowly faded from the world around Lysandra and the sky was darkened with the falling night. Stars peered out cautiously from behind sleepy eyelids, blinking some sort of mysterious code that no one could decipher. She watched the moon rise far from her as a halo of light separated the orb from the black void circling around it. She thought it was ironic that something so beautiful to most people could be so deadly to others.