Her room had been a place to keep her belongings, nothing more. She’d hated being alone in it, and by the time she’d last used the space, sleep had been a distant memory. She trailed her fingertips over the desk. Unlike the surfaces in the church, no dust covered it—a benefit of living in the Underworld. She’d forgotten how much the little detail appealed to her. Having to clean the room she’d claimed in the Huntsmen’s new estate was annoying, to say the least.
This section of Hell, the Huntsmen’s private retreat, saw the same cycles of day and night that the human realm did, but it never changed seasons. Spring ruled in the valley of the Hunters.
She moved to the window and opened the shutters. Her room overlooked the stream that cut a meandering path through the resting fields. A couple of their hounds drank from the water, while others chased each other over the grassy meadow. Thousands of glowing balls in a variety of shades from pure white to dark gray undulated in the breeze blowing through the valley. Every one belonged to a victim of the fairies. The sheer number of orbs, representing the souls they’d collected over the years, stirred her anger. Each marked a failure.
Unable to look upon their collective sin a moment longer, she faced the chest. The wooden box was as wide as the bed. Carvings of animals decorated the sides. She’d fallen in love with the piece of furniture when she’d seen a similar one in the human world and had replicated it for her personal use in the Underworld. With a single finger, she traced the depiction of a wolf howling at the moon. It was beautiful and…
She sighed at the realization of what she was doing—delaying the inevitable moment when she retrieved her mating gift. That was the purpose of entering her old room, not allowing her thoughts to wander to meaningless things.
With a swipe of her hand, she knocked the pieces of clothing to the floor and lifted the chest’s heavy lid. Centuries’ worth of memories stared back at her, some from before her time with Kai, some after. She ignored them all and grabbed a small wooden case. Without looking at the contents of the box, she dropped the lid of the chest, allowing it to slam closed, and left her sullen room behind.
She paused at the parlor’s door. Still no Arawn. Hopefully that meant he was with Minerva, but the likelihood of that was slim. Rowan wasn’t about to look for him either. She’d promised Trevor she wouldn’t leave the sanctuary of the Huntsmen’s valley, and she kept her promises. She clutched the box—another promise she planned to fulfill, even if the delivery was a few centuries late.
The hounds greeted her at the door. They never entered the house, even though they could. The dogs enjoyed being outside. They followed her to the winding stone path leading to the rough-cut entrance to the human world. No matter where they opened a portal on the mortal realm, it always led here—home. There was another one waiting for her, though, and his name was Trevor.
The rock surface at the end of the corridor grew opaque with each step she took toward it. Fuzzy shapes formed—the replacement bench for the one Calan had broken months ago, the bushes, and small shrubs. Each detail became crisper until the doorway gave way to the human realm. She stepped through, and the portal snapped closed behind her.
Dusk darkened the sky over the butterfly gardens on the Huntsmen’s new estate. No more than an hour had passed, but she hadn’t entered the Underworld immediately upon returning from the city. After the two-hour drive to the estate, Rhys had cornered them to extract every detail of the discovery in the church’s basement.
Trevor would likely be awake, waiting for her. She wanted to go to him. His arms wrapped around her eased her bleeding soul. Instead of taking the path to the house, she walked through the woods, following the worn footpath to the lake.
Slashes of reds and pinks painted a colorful sunset over the still water. In the dim light, the lake’s surface resembled a dark mirror, ready to bestow glimpses of a person’s future or their secret longings. It wasn’t real, of course. Only her mare could do such things. Allowing her horse to partially connect with her was how she bestowed visions of the hell awaiting sinners. She never saw any visions when she looked in Grief’s fathomless eyes, however, which was unfortunate. If she’d known about the future awaiting her, she could’ve prevented Kai’s death.
Eyes closed, she withdrew the image of him she’d held close through the ages. In that life, he’d had dark blond hair and hazel eyes. He’d been an inch or two shorter than her, but muscles had packed his wide frame. He’d had a workingman’s body. The son of a farmer, he’d been a simple man and not in her league, according to her mother and stepfather. Rowan had been born the beloved stepdaughter of a wealthy landowner and had been treated like royalty.
She’d met Kai a few weeks before Arawn’s hounds had led her to the Underworld to start her training. Their courtship had been sweet but had turned passionate on that night she’d left him. He’d known what she was, where she’d be for the next seven years. Still, he’d waited for her. Loved her the moment she’d stepped into his embrace.
He’d stripped her out of the pants and short tunic she’d taken to wearing during her training and worshiped her. He’d turned her into a woman. Every day she’d returned from the Hunt, he’d done the same. In his arms, she was his to command and pleasure. She’d given herself to him freely.
Kai had been the love of her life, and she’d failed him.
The first tear slipped free. She didn’t fight them. She opened herself to the grief that had followed her for most of her life, to the weakness she could never escape. The box she held fell from her limp hands. The thin wood cracked, and the contents spilled out. She hunkered down but didn’t pick up the scattered pieces. She wrapped her arms around her knees and cried.
Her sobs shook her body, and her chest tightened, making it hard to breathe. She choked with the squeezing of her throat. Her body ached. She rocked harder. Her sobs turned to wails that ripped her heart out. Nothing stopped the guilt. No amount of crying ever made it better or wiped away her sin, but she couldn’t let go of the sorrow. It overshadowed everything she did.
Tainted her love for Kai.
She wanted to do it over again. Why wasn’t that allowed? If she’d only known the consequences of her actions—her selfishness—she wouldn’t have made the same choices. It wasn’t fair. She was a demigod, the daughter of the Lord of the Underworld. In some respects, she was more powerful than the gods and goddesses. She could walk among the mortals, touch them…love them.
Why was she too weak to save them all?
Gods, she tried. From her little acts of intervention to the nightly hunts, she sought to eliminate evil from the world. She couldn’t, though. No matter how hard she tried, people suffered. She hadn’t even been able to save the one person who owned her. Kai had died while she’d helplessly held his bloody body in her arms.
Death was a part of her life. She knew it intimately. Had experienced it countless times before that night. Watching the life fade from Kai’s eyes had destroyed her, however. She hadn’t been able to stop it. She’d failed him.
If she couldn’t even save her mate, how was she supposed to save the world?
“My fault. My fault.” She gripped handfuls of her hair and tugged at the strands. The pain didn’t help. Nothing did. “I’m sorry, Kai. I’m so sorry.”
Strong arms wrapped around her. She jerked her head up, and Trevor’s face filled her vision.
He brushed back the wet strands of hair from her cheeks. “It wasn’t your fault, Rowan. I relived that moment in the fairy realm, remember? You weren’t even in the room.”
“Yes, it was,” she choked out the words.
“Yeah?” Trevor wiped at the trail of tears on her cheeks. “Then tell me. Why was it your fault?”
“I left you.” She squeezed her eyes shut, more tears leaking out, and berated herself for the slip. “Kai. I left Kai alone.”
He kissed her closed eyelids. “I am Kai, right? That’s what Jen said. I’m your mate’s reincarnation. I’m not going to get upset if you slip
and call me his name. I’d just prefer you didn’t. I’ve grown fond of Trevor. It is what’s on my passport, and those take forever to get reissued. I’d need a new birth certificate, social security number, driver’s license. That’d be a hassle.”
She grinned and snuggled closer, laying her head against his chest and allowing the steady beat of Trevor’s heart to comfort her. Trevor was her second chance to make things right. “I meant what I said earlier. You are the man who fits me in this age. Trevor, no one else. Kai is on my mind tonight, though.”
“His death, you mean?”
“Yes. It’s the anniversary of his death.” And the yearly reminder of her selfishness.
“You left Kai before he could complete the mate bond. Why?”
“I was a romantic fool. That’s why.” She motioned toward the broken case. “I wanted to give him a present.”
Trevor sat on the ground, pulling her onto his lap so her legs draped over his thighs, then gathered a few of the ivory carvings closest to them. “Chess pieces?”
“Yes. Kai and I enjoyed playing chess.” She took the knight from Trevor’s hand and ran her fingers over the details. It wasn’t perfect. None of them were. The pawns didn’t even match, despite her effort to make them the same, and the bishops had ended up looking wicked, not noble. She’d never claimed to be an artist, however. She’d done the best she could.
He studied one of the bishops intently, turning it from side to side. She held her breath, waiting on his assessment of her craftsmanship.
“This is beautiful.” He glanced at her. Pride shone in his eyes. “Absolutely beautiful. You did this by hand, didn’t you?”
She locked her gaze on Trevor’s face, reminding herself he was her present and her future, and pushed back the unsettling memories of the past. “Yes.”
“When did you have time to make them?”
“While I was training with my siblings in Hell. Between sessions, my father allowed us recovery time. I used mine to make those.”
He selected a pawn and turned the piece in his hands, examining it from all angles. “Were they easy to make? I’d never have the patience to do such a thing.”
“No.” Rowan swallowed hard and blinked several times to dim the pricking in her eyes. “They weren’t easy.” She’d poured her heart and soul into each one.
He glanced at her. “How did you learn, then? Practicing?”
A deep breath eased the burn in her muscles. Another inhale and exhale cleared the lump in her throat. She focused on answering Trevor’s question. “I started carving in wood first, then moved on to ivory. It took me seven years to make enough pieces that I was happy with.” She chuckled. “Some were pretty sad looking. It was a good thing Arawn could fabricate the ivory I needed.”
He gathered the rest of the pieces, piling them on her lap, then studied each one intently. “You did a wonderful job. Each one is distinct. It’s as if they have their own personality.”
“Thank you. I wanted to make them real, so I tried to capture the traits I thought the players in the game would have.”
He picked up the White King. She’d distinguished the pieces by using the purest color for one side and the murkier ivory for the other. “This is how you saw Kai, isn’t it? Gallant and kind.”
She scrubbed the back of her hand over her cheek, wiping the last of the tears away. “Yes. He was a good man. Very honorable. He reached out to everyone in need, from the orphans in his village to my siblings, offering everything he had.”
Rowan took the piece from Trevor and traced the etchings she’d labored over for countless hours. Out of all the pieces, this one had taken her the longest to create. She’d wanted it perfect. “No matter how dark and moody I was when I came back from the Hunt, he was there, waiting for me with open arms. He loved me exactly as I was.”
“And why wouldn’t he have loved you? You’re an amazing person. You’re the perfect mix of warrior and woman, of strength and softness, of darkness and light. Those are the reasons I love you.”
She slipped her hand into his hair, cradling the back of Trevor’s head, and drew him close. With the barest caress of her parted lips, she mapped a path from his jaw to his mouth and kissed him, slowly twining their tongues. She poured her love into the kiss, hoping he’d feel her emotion, what it meant to have him—Trevor, not Kai—in her arms.
Finally, she eased back. “You’re more than honorable. You’re wickedly sexy, and I love having you in my life, fighting by my side. I would never have considered such a thing with Kai.”
“Why? Didn’t he want to help you?”
“Yes. He asked to join the Hunt. I refused him. I didn’t want him to dirty himself by fighting evil.” She placed the King in Trevor’s hand and urged him to curl his fingers around it. “I thought it would change Kai, and I was afraid I wouldn’t love the man he’d become after joining the Teulu.”
She closed her eyes for a moment and sought the words to express how she’d viewed Kai. “He was my humanity. Do you understand? When I was with him, I felt like a woman, not a Hunter. I refused to lose that. That’s why I mated him.” She tipped her head back and met Trevor’s gaze. “That’s how I failed him.”
The guilt she carried pressed down on her. “I treated Kai as an object, not my partner. I placed him on a pedestal and worshiped him, but I couldn’t save him when he needed me most.”
Trevor rested his head on top of hers and wrapped his arms tighter around her. “You blame yourself for his death. You shouldn’t. You didn’t know your house would be targeted by those thieves.”
She hadn’t told him the whole story, but it didn’t surprise her that he knew it. Her brothers did like to stick their noses into her business. Then again, she did the same to them. It was a consequence of being a part of Arawn’s Teulu.
“No, I didn’t know we’d be targeted, but I did know that there was a group of mercenaries and thieves pillaging the neighboring villages. I’d planned to hunt down the humans and show them the fate awaiting them, but Kai had threatened to go to Calan that night and ask him to approve his request to join the Huntsmen. I refused to allow that to happen, so I ignored my duty to mankind in order to mate Kai.” She laughed bitterly. “Then I foolishly stopped him from completing his half of the bond so I could give him a silly present.”
Trevor ran his hand over her hair, smoothing the mussed locks. “It’s not a silly present. You made these pieces with Kai in mind. I’m sure he would’ve loved getting them.”
She picked up the White Queen. Compared to the rest of the set, it wasn’t a pretty piece. It was also the only dual-faced one. She’d fashioned it with her dual nature in mind. One side was a rough imitation of her human face, the other depicted the beast she could become.
“I want you to have them.” She held the Queen’s piece out to Trevor. “And I want you to be my partner, not just my lover. That’s how I failed Kai. I won’t make the same mistake with you.”
He took the piece from her. “I want that too.”
“I’m glad.” She laid her hand over his heart. Its beat was steady and strong, not like those first few hours in the hospital after he’d returned from the fairy realm.
Gods, if he’d died then, she would’ve lost her connection to him for good. Minerva wouldn’t have been able to cry for them, ensuring his soul would remember loving her. Her heart rate kicked up. This was their last chance.
She fisted his shirt. “I know you want to wait to join the Teulu until after Craig and his brothers are captured, but you can’t. You need to accept the Huntsman’s mark as soon as Calan returns tomorrow. No waiting.”
“I have to wait. Now that Ian is mated, I’m the only one besides Allie who isn’t connected to the Hunt, and we aren’t sending her out to fight against the redcaps or the sluaghs. She knows nothing about fighting.”
“I understand that, but your life is just as valuable.” To her, even more so. He was her world. “What if I can’t protect you?”
Trevor’s
features hardened. “I’m not helpless.”
She didn’t want him to think she saw him that way. She’d been awed by his skills and strength as they’d fought, back to back, against those sluaghs.
“I know that, but without the mark of the Hunt, you’re mortal. If you die, you’ll forget me.” Rowan looked imploringly at him. “Minerva won’t be able to cry for us. That’ll be it. No more chances.”
Her chest squeezed tight, and her eyes burned. She wouldn’t survive the loss of him, not again. She blinked rapidly, hoping to stop the tears.
“I’ll go insane. Lose myself to the rage. Arawn will have to lock me away. It almost happened last time. I was so close to succumbing. If I lose you…” Her breathing quickened; her pulse raced. “If I lose you, knowing we’ll never find each other, knowing I was the reason you died again, I won’t—”
“Rowan.”
Her name spoken in his harsh tone stopped her words.
“Focus on me.” Trevor pulled her balled fists off him and uncurled her fingers, then pressed her hands to his chest. “Do you feel me? I’m alive, and I’m with you. You are not going to lose me.”
“But—”
“But nothing.” A hard stamp of determination glinted in his eyes. “I promise you. I will not die on you, but I can’t accept the Huntsman’s mark knowing I can locate those redcaps tied to Harley. That would be selfish for both of us.”
“No.” She shook her head. She didn’t want to hear his argument. “Not accepting Minerva’s gift is selfish. She cried for us. Every time you died, she shed more tears. She suffered—physically, mentally. For us, Trevor. Minerva’s heart bled for us.”
“I get that, and I’m grateful for her tears, but if I accept the mark, I will suffer knowing innocents are dying. Every day that goes by will hurt me more.” He slid his hands from her shoulders to her neck before holding her face between the palms of his hands. “I don’t want to feel guilty for loving you or resent you for convincing me to do something I know is selfish.”
He caressed the corners of her mouth with his thumb. “Can you honestly say you would put our happiness above the innocents of the world?”
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