The Allseer Trilogy

by Kaitlyn Rouhier

  He turned back towards her, his eyes alight with mischief. “You ever feel like doing something rebellious?”

  Kirheen laughed softly, gesturing to the empty trail and the surrounding forest. “This wasn’t rebellious?”

  “No one said we couldn’t go for a walk,” he grinned. “Come on, there is a place I want to show you. There’s a clearing through the trees that I sneak off to when I need time to myself, and I bet it looks beautiful right now with the moon so bright.”

  You are bonded…

  Turn back.

  But they got it wrong.

  “Lead the way.”

  He sighed loudly as she said it, as if relieved she hadn’t turned away and faded back into the dark. He held out his hand, gesturing for her to take it, his lips cracking into a grin that melted her heart. She reached for his outstretched hand, feeling as if she were in a dream until the warmth of his skin enveloped her hand. There was safety in that touch, and whatever hesitation she’d felt about following him fled.

  They darted off the trail, tall grass and scraggly branches whipping against arms and legs as they dashed through the underbrush, slowing only to bypass a fallen tree. During their mad dash, they startled a deer, sending it skittering into the shadows of the forest. Kirheen yelped, nearly jumping into Ian’s arms, and he burst out laughing, wrapping his arms around her protectively.

  Walking hand in hand, they stepped through a break in the trees into a beautiful moonlit clearing. Tall grasses, tinged blue by the glow of the moon, swayed back and forth in the gentle breeze, the sound and sight of it almost hypnotic to watch. “This is beautiful,” Kirheen managed to breath.

  “It really is,” he agreed. “Just look at the stars.”

  Kirheen glanced up, her mouth dropping open as she took in the sight of a thousand stars, the beautiful glow of the moon. Ian peeled his hand away from hers and took a seat in the center of the clearing, then laid back, lacing his fingers behind his head. “What are you doing?”

  “Watching the stars. Get over here. How often do we get a chance to see the stars like this?”

  She smiled and sank down in the grass beside him, the smell of dirt and plant matter filling her nose. Crickets chirped loudly from their hidden sanctuaries in the tall grasses, their music echoing into the night. Her eyes wandered over the twinkling stars overhead, but all she could think about was Ian laying at her side, the warmth of his arm pressed against hers.

  He moved suddenly, rolling onto his side to face her. His luminous eyes watched her closely, his expression troubled. He reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingertips lingering against her skin. “Kirheen, I wanted it to be you I was bonded with. I’ve always wanted it to be you.”

  She sat up, a wave of elation and nausea coursing through her. Hearing him say it out loud had unknotted something within her, something she’d kept locked up tight and buried deep. Ian sat up too, and he clutched her arm. His eyes were filled with sorrow when she finally met his gaze, as if his entire being hung on her response. He was waiting for the validation he’d just given her, clinging to some fragile hope that she felt the same, a hope that still had the potential to slip through his fingers.

  “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I shouldn’t have said anything. It was foolish.”

  He went to turn away from her and she stopped him, her hand resting against his cheek. “No, no. Ian. Please. I’m sorry.” The truth came rushing out of her, a torrent of words she couldn’t stop. “I’ve always thought about this, of what it might feel like to hear you say those words, about what it might feel like to say them back. And it is better than I ever imagined. Ian, I wanted it to be you too. All this time…”

  His face shifted through a myriad of emotions before settling on pure joy. He slid closer to her, cupping her face in both of his hands. “You mean it? All of it?”

  “I do.”

  You’re bonded.

  And then his lips were pressed against hers, pulling her into a place of warmth, and need, and hunger.

  CHAPTER 22

  Garild was the happiest he’d ever been. Filled with joy at the good food and good conversation he’d been gifted with, he mingled with his friends, his soul basking in the companionship he’d been missing over the long winter months. He felt whole again.

  Hardly able to contain his good cheer, he went seeking the one person with whom he wanted to share it with. He fully expected to find her tucked away in a corner, hoarding a number of pastries and avoiding the dancing and conversations she seemed to care so little for.

  But she wasn’t there.

  And he realized, with a thundering disappointment that shook him all the way to his core, she wasn’t there at all. She was gone. And so was Ian.

  His happiness was a glass ball of emotion that someone had picked up and hurled against the floor. It shattered, and out spilled a swirling glob of confusion and anger. He tried not to let his mind wander, to not jump to conclusions, but he’d seen the way they looked at each other, had noticed the lingering stares and discontented sighs whenever he was in the room.

  He squeezed his eyes shut and focused on his bond mate. Instead of getting a general sense of her direction, he was overwhelmed by a pulsating wave of emotions. It was tumultuous, a waterfall crashing down over his head. Longing and shame pulled at his heart, each emotion tugging a separate string until he felt like he was unraveling.

  It was a struggle to free himself from those emotions. They’d crashed right through his defenses, overwhelming his mind, and body, and soul. He tried to move towards the door, but his legs felt laden with an unbearable amount of weight, a weight that threatened to pull him into a pit of despair he’d never be able to leave. If I can get outside, maybe I can breathe. Maybe I can focus.

  But he couldn’t make it. It was too much. He was fighting a losing battle, and he didn’t want to feel anymore, didn’t want those emotions tearing him apart. He just wanted to block his mind, but he needed help. He could no longer do it alone.

  The woman swimming in his vision regarded him with a cold stare as he approached.

  “Please…help me,” Garild begged. His legs slid out from under him and he found himself at her feet.

  “What is it, boy? Speak,” the woman demanded.

  He gave her the truth, his words a jumbled mess as they spilled out of him.

  And Herzin listened.

  Just this once.

  Just once.

  Ian slid his lips away from her ear, kissing a line across her cheek until he found his way back to her mouth. His lips were warm, and soft, and the taste of apples was sweet on his tongue. Nobody could teach such perfection. It was natural, meant to be.

  Even if you yearn…

  You are bonded.

  His kisses grew more passionate, his hands roaming away from her face. Strong hands pressed against her shoulders, pushing her back into the grass and he followed her down, his lips never leaving hers. The feel of his body pressed against hers was almost too much to bear.

  This can’t be a mistake.

  His hand wandered down her body, pressing against her side and traveling to her hip. Fingers danced down her thigh, coming to rest behind her knee. He pulled her closer and she felt herself slip, anticipation drowning out her senses. She let her own hands travel, feeling the firmness of his chest, the strength of his shoulders. Her fingers found the sash of his robe and she undid the knot, slipping it off of his waist. She reached up to push back his robes when she felt the first whisper of warning, a slight tingle of pain echoing softly through her mind.

  It was ignored in favor of the lips nestled against her neck.

  A whisper turned into an inferno and she found herself flowing with anger, an unwarranted aggression bursting out of her. She pushed Ian away, trying to shake away the anger that clung to her mind, sticky syrup coating her synapses in red.

  Ian’s face was a mask of hurt and confusion. He tried to move towards her, but his body went rigi
d, a cry tearing from his throat as he fell to the ground, writhing in pain. Kirheen scrambled on her hands and knees towards him, but an intense bolt of pain stopped her, striking her mind like a lightning bolt.

  Her ears began to ring, a gentle chime that rose into a terrifying cacophony of sound. Warmth dripped from her nose, and when she raised a hand to it, her fingers came away bloody. She made a desperate attempt to block her mind, but it was far too late. The pain ripped through her defenses, cutting through them as if they’d been made of paper.

  Someone was yelling nearby, a familiar voice cutting through the fog of pain.

  “Stop, please! You’re hurting them. You have to stop!”

  Another wave of pain sent her doubling over, and she heaved into the grass, her stomach spasming painfully. And then it was her entire body, shaking violently, completely out of her control.

  This is how it ends…

  A broken bond…

  Everything faded but the pain. It felt like hours before it stopped, but by then her mind was gone, lost to the dark, a prison she could not escape from.

  Alone.

  Afraid.

  Broken.

  CHAPTER 23

  In the early hours of the morning, Tomias promised himself one last attempt. This is it, he told himself. After this, let it be done. Let yourself rest. Exhaustion loomed over him and each attempt brought him further and further into its grasp, but he couldn’t bring himself to give up, to let go. He had to keep trying, no matter the cost.

  And so, with every failed attempt, he made himself another promise and broke it time and time again. There would be no final attempt, not until he’d given everything to save her.

  He eased his power forward, gently prodding Kirheen’s shattered mind. The damage was catastrophic, a swirling vortex of crumbling barriers, pain, and fear. She was lost somewhere in that abyss, and his attempts to find her in the chaos had been fruitless. She remained in a deep slumber, trapped within her own mind, lost in a nightmare.

  It was a miracle she lived at all. Herzin hadn’t been merciful when she’d found Kirheen in a field with Ian, doing what the young and stupid do best. Whether it was the nature of the crime, or the fact that it involved Kirheen, it had driven Herzin insane with rage. Nyson had to stop her attack himself, but by the time he’d gotten there, the damage had been done.

  Rumors of what had transpired raged like wildfire until they’d all been confined to their homes. None were to leave until Nyson gave the word, which left Tomias stuck in a home with two broken students, one on her death bed, and the other lost in a land of his own misery.

  Garild had sat in a chair before the empty hearth and hadn’t moved since. He stared off into space, his eyes glossy and distant, lost in his pain. He hadn’t spoken a word and he refused to eat. Tomias was surprised he was even allowing himself to breath. He’d been betrayed in the worst way possible, and his unfortunate choice in confidant had nearly cost Kirheen her life.

  It pained Tomias to look at her. The delicate skin around her eyes was swollen and bruised, her nose a patchwork of broken blood vessels. There was a welt on her cheek bone where she’d hit the ground in a fit of violent spasms, and her lip was split and crusted with dried blood. Her external appearance was bad enough, but it was the internal damage that truly worried him. Trista had given her a thorough evaluation, but all she’d been able to tell him was what he already knew; that the internal damage might kill her, that he might not be able to save her, that even if she lived she might not be the same person she was before.

  He’d been by her side for two days, watching and waiting. He got small moments of rest in a chair he’d dragged to her bedside, his waking moments spent trying to find her in the fractured landscape of her mind. If he could just get in, if he could find her, he might be able to get her back. He reached towards her mind with his power but was met with a wave of resistance that pushed back until he could no longer withstand the pressure. He broke contact and rested his head in his heads, the dull throb of a headache radiating through his temples.

  “You need to stop,” Fenir warned. Tomias didn’t even have to lift his head to know he stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, regarding him with a stern and worried expression. “She’s not likely to make it, mind or no mind. We need to accept that she-”

  “No!” Tomias growled, his frustration making his tone harsher than intended. He ground his teeth back and forth, trying to keep his anger at bay. Fenir was just being logical, which Tomias was certainly not. “I can’t just give up on her. Maybe if I’d paid closer attention, I could have stopped this before it happened.”

  “This isn’t your fault, Brother. Regret isn’t going to change anything. You need rest, or soon you’ll be joining her. Now go lie down. I’ll keep trying.”

  “Be gentle with her,” Tomias pleaded, and his twin nodded solemnly. His bones creaked and his muscles protested as he slowly rose to his feet. It felt like he’d aged overnight. He could feel every ache of both body and mind as he made his way to the other bed. Lacking the energy to even pull back the covers, he let himself fall forward into the pillows, his arms sprawled across the bed. He turned his head away from Kirheen, hoping to block her from his mind, but when he closed his eyes it was her bruised and bloody face that filled his dreams.

  He woke hours later, but he felt no more rested than he had before. He stared at the ceiling for a long while before he allowed himself to sit up, to look towards Kirheen. It was his brother he expected to see sitting by her side, but Garild had taken his place. He stared down at his bond mate, brown eyes dull and lifeless, ringed in red. When he heard Tomias shift, he raised his head.

  “Why did she do it?” Garild asked, his question drifting through the air, aimless. “We are…we were bonded.”

  Tomias sighed and rubbed at his tired eyes. The poor boy was a wreck, his face contorted with a mixture of grief, and worry, and anger. The anger was a dull thing, glowing like coals beneath his other emotions. “Garild, I’m sorry. I know this hurts…”

  “We were bonded. Did it really mean nothing?” Tears gathered along his lower lashes, threatening to spill over. “Did it really mean so little to her?”

  Tomias shook his head. He barely felt capable of processing his own emotions about the situation, let alone guiding Garild through his grief. How could he explain the complexity of what had happened, to make him understand the wild whims of the heart that led to such disasters? “Garild, I can’t speak for her. I hope when she wakes, she is able to give you the answers you seek.”

  Garild swiped a shaking hand over his eyes. “It’s been days. Is she even going to wake up?”

  Tomias glanced at Kirheen, looking over her pale face, the bruises marring the beauty of it. Hope was slipping out of his grasp, falling through his fingers like sand, counting down the minutes until he lost her forever. “I don’t know, Garild. I don’t know. I’m doing everything I can, but I don’t know if it’ll be enough.”

  “Just bring her back, please. I feel so angry. I hate what she did, but I can’t bear to lose her.” He leaned forward and scooped her hand into his. Lowering his head, he kissed the back of her hand softly, as if he feared hurting her further. There was a flicker in his eyes, the last of his hope spilling out with his tears. His empty gaze turned to Tomias, and his words were wrapped in an icy chill as he said, “There’s going to be a trial. Nyson is going to judge their crime…”

  Tomias shivered, the announcement chilling him to the bone. “When did you hear that?”

  “While you were sleeping. We didn’t want to wake you…”

  This isn’t good, Tomias thought. If Nyson was planning to hand down the sentence himself, Kirheen surviving was the least of their concerns. “We’ll figure this out. I’ll do whatever I can to protect you both.”

  Garild nodded and shambled out of the room, as lively as a corpse. Tomias was no better as he stumbled across the short distance separating him from Kirheen. He reached towards her, res
ting his palm against her forehead. So cold… She was dreadfully pale, so devoid of color she looked as if she’d been formed from ash. The only sign that she still lived came from the steady rise and fall of her chest.

  What more can I do?

  Even if she did wake, they had a trial to worry about, and Nyson was not likely to judge her actions lightly. She’d be severely punished, likely stripped of her bond and exiled from Sanctuary to fall victim to the Darkness. Tomias couldn’t bear to see that happen. He’d failed to notice the turmoil brewing around him, had failed to divert Kirheen towards a better path. If he didn’t try to stop the coming storm, she’d pay the price for his ignorance.

  And so, he slipped out the window, a jolt shooting through his tired limbs as he landed quietly in the grass below. The sun was bright overhead, stinging eyes that had spent days trapped behind the safety of curtains. He blinked away tears and set out on the path that would lead him to Nyson.

  Nestled in a grove of ancient wraith wood trees, Nyson’s home was a simple dwelling, small for a man of such importance. Tomias didn’t even bother to knock when he reached the front door, his mood lending him a foolish indifference when it came to formalities. The handle turned without resistance and then he was walking through the door, right into the home of the Union Master himself.

  The front room was large and scarcely furnished. Every piece of furniture looked like it had been placed with purpose, with no room left over for anything as frivolous as decorations. Nyson sat behind an ornately carved wraith wood table, a piece of faded parchment gripped between gnarled fingers. Slate blue eyes wandered up from the paper in hand and settled on Tomias, flashing with annoyance. He may have been annoyed, but he didn’t seem surprised to see him there. “Have a seat,” he said dryly, nodding his head towards the empty chair on the other side of the table.