In Darkness We Must Abide: The Complete Third Season

by Frater, Rhiannon

  With a weary sigh, Aeron slumped against the damp wood at his back.

  Reaching out, Vanora pressed her hand to his face.

  He leaned into it.

  Vanora was shifted through time again, emerging in a smelly, muddy port town filled with travelers, sailors, prostitutes and beggars. Aeron trudged through the mud, careful to keep his cloak free of the sludge. His shoulders were slumped with exhaustion and probably hunger. Vanora easily followed, the world not affecting her like it did Aeron.

  The whores called out to him, but a few recoiled when he looked their way and they saw his white visage. Others looked intrigued.

  Children clustered around him, begging for money and food.

  Aeron gave the first group of children the remains of the bread from his voyage. Other beggars witnessed this kindness and flocked to him.

  “I’m sorry. I have nothing more,” he said, his voice thick with sorrow.

  At last, the children let him be and ran after other travelers.

  Aeron didn’t even try to find lodging, but continued out of the town following the road. Some suspicious and dangerous-looking men shadowed him for a short distance, but then scampered off after a merchant cart that passed.

  “I will set all this right,” Aeron muttered under his breath. “Spirit, when I am a god, this will all change.”

  The world continued to spin around her like a top, offering glimpses of his journey. Vanora was disoriented by the cacophony of sounds and the constantly altering terrain. Dizzy, she grabbed Aeron’s arm to steady herself, and Aeron smiled. Throughout the rapidly changing panorama, she held onto him, and it appeared he was comforted by her touch.

  Through vineyards, forests, towns, and meadows he continued onward. He spoke occasionally to other travelers, but kept his face hidden in his hood. His albino appearance drew attention and it was not always pleasant. Sometimes children taunted him, or ran screaming when they caught sight of his purple eyes and white hair.

  The pain of rejection in his eyes was an emotion she was well-acquainted with, and again, she was reminded how similar they were.

  * * *

  Abruptly, Vanora found herself standing beside a campfire. Aeron crouched on the opposite side watching the flames roasting a fat rabbit. It was colder and Vanora wondered where they were now. She suspected Aeron was making his way across Europe and that Greece was his final destination.

  The trees rose high above Vanora, and the full moon hung in a clear sky. The stars were so bright, they dazzled her eyes. She fancied she could reach up and pluck one out of the sky. Would it burn her fingers with the cold or with fire? She was beginning to feel as distant from her real life as the stars were from the earth. The longer she was caught in this vision of the past, the more adrift she felt. The layers of her mortal coil were sloughing away to reveal the old soul trapped within. Vanora was gradually coming to realize that she was much more intricately interwoven with Aeron than she’d ever imagined.

  It frightened her.

  Knowing that every time she settled into a particular moment of Aeron’s history something important was revealed, she nervously studied the darkness dwelling in the thick forest. What danger lurked in the moon speckled gloom?

  “I can see you clearer tonight,” Aeron said in a lowered voice.

  Or maybe his voice had deepened. It sounded closer to the voice that had slithered out of the darkness when he’d come into her apartment in Austin. That night she had been so frightened of him despite the yearning she’d experienced. To her discomfort, she only felt yearning now. She was no longer afraid of Aeron. At least, not this mortal version of him.

  The firelight played off his features, and she could see that his cheekbones were sharper, his jaw-line more defined. He was older. How much time had passed since he had started his journey?

  “What do you see?” Vanora asked boldly. “Can you hear me?”

  “Is that your voice on the wind?” He cocked his head as though to listen more intently. “You flicker in and out of my vision like a firefly. You’re as white as I am. Another child of the moon. And so beautiful.”

  Hesitantly, he approached where she stood. Rising to his full height, he towered over her. The cloak his mother had given him was a bit worn, and he shivered in the icy air. Vanora could still see the blue lines of magic woven in its fabric, but now, it seemed more ornate than when he’d been given it. Lifting her hand, she traced the intricate glowing embroidery. What sort of spell was this? What had Aeron’s mother done? Vanora could feel the spell pulsing against her fingers.

  Cautiously, Aeron extended his hand toward her as if to touch her. The warmth of his skin made her cheeks flush as his palm and curved fingers barely grazed her skin. “I can almost touch you.”

  “But can you hear me?” Vanora tried to ignore both the way her heart quickened with his nearness and her desire to feel his skin against hers.

  A bone chilling snarl drew their attention away from each other to the darkened woods. Enormous dark shapes slinked through the brush, snapping twigs and crushing dead leaves beneath giant paws. Eyes glinted yellow in the firelight.

  Aeron drew his sword, his eyes darting to where his shield rested on the ground.

  At first, the glowing orbs were near the ground, then rose up until they were above even Aeron’s head.

  “Werewolves,” Vanora gasped.

  The beasts erupted into the clearing. There were two of the wolfish creatures. Neither human or wolf, but a combination of both, the werewolves were beautiful with their glossy black fur and elegant lupine faces, but they were also terrifying with black claws and glistening fangs that were ready to tear flesh.

  “Leave now, and I won’t kill you,” Aeron said, his voice not revealing a bit of fear.

  The werewolves growled in answer. The two beings began to circle the fire from opposite sides, attempting to trap Aeron between them. Even though they couldn’t touch her, Vanora found herself frozen in place, unable to move out of fear. She’d never seen anything like the werewolves before and her brain sputtered with fright.

  Meanwhile, Aeron did not appear afraid. Kicking the logs in the campfire, he sent embers spewing outward toward the werewolves. They darted out of the reach of the smoldering ash. Aeron took advantage of the moment and snatched up his shield. A heartbeat later and the first wolf smashed into it as it attempted to take him down. Planting his feet firmly against the ground and leaning into the assault, Aeron knocked back the wolf. A quick pivot put him face to face with the second beast. His sword slashed through the air, blood spraying as he deflected the clawed hand thrusting toward his throat.

  Vanora stumbled backward as the first werewolf joined the fray. Guttural growls, snarls, and sharp yelps filled the air as Aeron battled the two creatures simultaneously. The iron blade of his sword was soon dripping with blood, and the droplets hissed when they struck the fire. The werewolves continued to slash at the pale warrior, claws extracting blood. Yet, Aeron continued to escape the worst of their attacks. He was supernaturally fast, agile, and powerful. White magic sizzled beneath his skin, and the cloak around his shoulders gleamed with the spell his mother had cast.

  The intricate battle dance was graceful, yet brutal. Aeron did not falter when he managed to hack into the neck of one of the great beasts. It fell, gurgling on its own blood. Enraged, the second werewolf threw itself at Aeron, ramming against his shield. Caught off balance, Aeron and the monster crashed to the forest floor. The shield kept the snapping jaws of the werewolf at bay, but Aeron could not use his sword in such close proximity. He tossed it aside and jerked his dagger from its sheath.

  The mortally wounded werewolf staggered to its feet, blood pouring from its neck, and weakly loped toward the struggle. Vanora instantly saw that Aeron would be at a disadvantage, trapped on the ground like he was. Without thought, she thrust one hand out toward the dying werewolf, and a surge of white light erupted from her palm striking the beast. Her magic tossed the creature aside, its body
plunging into the darkness of the forest. Confusion and disbelief left her panting for air.

  She’d affected the past!

  Hope surged inside her. Distracted for an instant, the werewolf atop Aeron howled as the dagger found its mark. With a powerful shove, Aeron knocked the monster aside. The beast lay at his feet, one hand grasping the hilt of the dagger buried in its heart. Wiping blood from his face, Aeron picked up his sword. A powerful whack severed the werewolf’s head.

  Horrified, Vanora waited for the being to return to its human, but instead it remained wolf-like.

  Wading through the underbrush into the forest, Aeron sought out the werewolf Vanora had deflected with her magic. There was a meaty thud, then he dragged the body out of the woods. Shivering with both fear and excitement, Vanora watched Aeron set the two massive wolf heads near the fire before turning his attention to the fur covered bodies.

  “You are powerful, spirit,” Aeron said, still breathing heavily. “I saw what you did.”

  Vanora’s pulse accelerated. She had affected the past, which meant maybe she could change it. If she could convince Aeron to turn back, then wouldn’t that save her mother’s life? Roman’s life? The lives of all those Aeron had killed?

  Before she could seek an answer, the night drifted into day, and the journey continued.

  The images of Aeron’s travels spun past her, then at last settled into one moment.

  Vanora found herself in a cave.

  Water poured over the entrance, and the floor was dry only because it rose upward into the deeper recesses of the rocky alcove. There wasn’t a fire to keep Aeron warm. He sat huddled in the back, wrapped in not only his father’s cloak, but one made of the fur of the werewolves. The discarded bones of the fowl he’d eaten earlier bobbed in the waves lapping against the entrance of the cave. It was cold enough that vapor slipped from his lips as he breathed. Vanora huddled next to him, his warmth chasing away the cold. Again, she wondered where they were.

  In his sleep, Aeron’s head dropped onto her shoulder. The white cloud of his hair settled softly against her skin. Listening to him breathe, she wondered what he was dreaming. Was it of his home so far away?

  “No, it’s of you,” Aeron’s voice answered, echoing in the stone chamber. “I always dream of you...”

  Vanora raised her head. The cave was lit by the muted glow of the moon filtering through the water rushing over the mouth of the cave. Aeron leaned against the rock wall near the entrance with his arms folded across his chest while he gazed at the darkened sky. He very much looked like a son of the moon illuminated by its light.

  Vanora glanced to her side to see him still sleeping. Somehow she’d slipped into his dream. Excitement filled her for at last she could speak to him, and he would hear her.

  “My mother said that waterfalls are doorways into another world. When I found this cave, I hoped it was true. I prayed that it would allow me to finally speak to you,” he said, smiling at her kindly. “I suppose dreams are other worlds, aren’t they?”

  “In this case, yes...” she answered, her brain jumbled with all the things she wanted to say. Rising, she approached him, her voice catching in her throat. “Aeron, please listen to-”

  “This isn’t merely a dream, is it? It feels like something more because I can clearly see your face and hear your voice.” The awe and pleasure in his eyes saddened and thrilled her.

  “Aeron, I need to speak to you...” she started, trying to sort out just how to explain to him that his journey was ill-fated.

  “What is your name?” he asked eagerly, watching her draw close.

  Distorted by the waterfall, the moonlight danced over his features. Closer, she could see he was older. More time had passed than she’d realized. He appeared near the age he’d be when transformed into a vampire. With sadness in her heart, Vanora understood that he was nearing the end of his long journey.

  Soon he would find Parthenia.

  Soon he would be a vampire.

  “My name isn’t important,” she answered at last.

  “But you are important,” Aeron said, displaying a dazzling grin.

  Resting her hands on his forearm, Vanora gazed up into his face. It lacked the cruelty that would come over time. It was striking and kind. It hurt to think of it transformed into the terrifying visage she’d seen just the night before. Was it just last night that she had eluded him at Carlotta’s home with Greg’s help? “Aeron, please, return home. Don’t continue onward.”

  Staring at her in confusion, but also with adoration, he touched her cheek. “You stay so diligently at my side. My constant companion throughout my journey, yet you want me to turn back. Why?”

  “Aeron, listen to me. Please. If you do this you’ll not be the man you are now. You’ll change.”

  With a nod, he said, “This is true. My mother told me what I will become. I will be a true son of the night and feast on the blood of my enemies.” Aeron’s broad shoulders sagged. “I’m afraid, but I know her words are my destiny. I will ascend to power and set the world right.”

  “But you won’t be the man you are now!” Vanora protested. “You’ll change.”

  “I need to change. Don’t you see? If I am strong, powerful, a god, I can change the world. Bring order to it so that we won’t be threatened by those who would hurt us. My journey has convinced me of that even more than when I started. I was such a child in my thinking, but after the things I’ve seen, the creatures I’ve slain...” Aeron glanced toward the heavy werewolf cloak his body was sleeping beneath. “There are terrible things in this world. I must bring order to it.”

  “Aeron, I agree. There are frightening things out here. I saw those werewolves attack you.”

  “And you saved me from one. I saw you cast it away. You’re so powerful!” Grasping her shoulders, his fingers stroked her skin. “What are you? What is your name, my spirit guardian?”

  The touch of his hands was distracting. It elicited emotions and sensations that she didn’t want to acknowledge. She placed her hands over his, meaning to push him away, but faltered. “I was able to help you fight the werewolf, which means I can now help you fight this destiny that your mother foretold. You have to fight against it. Go home, Aeron. Turn away before you become what you hate.” Miserable, she lowered her chin, unable to gaze into his amethyst eyes. They were kind and full of love. It was difficult to witness such gentle emotions in the face of someone she’d feared so much.

  “My mother says I can only be with you if I fulfill my destiny.” His fingers gripped her chin gently and lifted her face toward him. “Is this true?”

  She wanted to lie, but discovered the words were caught in an ugly gnarl in her throat. Mute, she stared at him in despair.

  “My mother says you lay before me in my future. My true love. My wife to be. She has warned me that I will have to wait eons to hold you close in the world beyond dreams. Is this true?” Aeron searched in her gaze for the truth.

  Lips quivering, Vanora opened her mouth to deny the portent, but instead said, “Yes.”

  “Then I will continue onward,” he said with the firm nod of his head. “I will wait until the day we will be together.”

  “Go home,” Vanora pleaded. “Go home and don’t do this.”

  “No,” he said sharply. “I will do this because it’s right. I will obtain the power that has been prophesied and then I will prepare the world for the time when you will stand at my side.”

  “Aeron, please.”

  “Tell me we are not meant to be,” he demanded, his hands tight on her arms. Leaning toward her to press his brow against hers, his purple eyes gazed intently into hers. “Tell me that you are not mine and I am not yours.”

  “Fate can be fought,” she said in a ragged voice.

  “I don’t want to fight it,” Aeron answered.

  Vanora gasped into his searing kiss when he tugged her close. The passion that burned in the caress of his mouth set her own heart aflame and she was staggered by the
power of her desire. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she returned his kiss until her lips were bruised, and she was breathless. Everything within her cried out for him. Again, the impression of completion filled her soul. Tears streaked her face as she drew away from him, stunned and troubled.

  “I am yours and you are mine,” Aeron breathed in her ear, catching her and pulling her close again. “This may be a dream but I know this to be true. How can you ask me to turn back and deny us our future?”

  “Go home,” Vanora begged. “Don’t do this.”

  Instead, he pressed his lips to hers, and again, Vanora found herself ardently responding. Trapped in the confines of his dream, it was terribly easy to give into his seduction. His hands were hot against her skin as he attempted to undress her. His mouth completely possessed hers in a way that both alarmed and captivated her. Fingers threaded in his white hair, she squirmed against his body as his hand found the delicate spot between her thighs. The staggering need to be with him, to feel him within her, and to be joined with him forever ripped through all her defenses. Without a doubt, she knew they belonged together. They were meant to be. To even attempt to deny it was ridiculous. Within her chest, her soul rejoiced in joining with Aeron. She was no longer alone, adrift, set apart. At last, she was exactly where she was supposed to be. The joy that came with that knowledge abolished all fear and hesitation.

  The moment he slid into her, he possessed her. There was nothing but bliss between them as he plunged into her. She clung to his body with her arms and legs and lavished his mouth with adoring kisses. Aeron made love to her sweetly, but fervidly. Vanora could think of nothing but him.

  “I am yours and you are mine,” Aeron growled in her ear, then lightly bit her neck when at last he came inside her.

  Like a bolt of black lightning, the bite reconnected her with a world that felt far away, yet was where she belonged. The memory of his fangs at her throat, the brutality of his vampire war, and Roman’s death broke her free of the power of their bond. It was then, Vanora reclaimed her resolve.