Everbound

by Donna Grant

  She wasn’t used to anyone taking care of her, and if she hadn’t been so weak, she never would have stood for it. But as the days went on and she grew progressively stronger, she still allowed Jarin to hunt for their food.

  Not that she could’ve been much help. She had always used magic before to help her catch her meal. Since she couldn’t chance it with the Coven, she’d had no choice but to leave it to him.

  Yet...even she had to admit that it had been nice. They had fit well together. Hopefully, when they left the abbey, she would be strong enough to keep up with the pace he normally used. She was all too aware that he had slowed considerably for her.

  “There,” Synne said after a long time. “All done. It looks quite fetching if I do say so myself. You have the most amazing hair. I wish mine was red.”

  Helena felt her cheeks warm as she opened her eyes. She hadn’t blushed in years. “Thank you,” she said and reached back to touch the braids.

  Synne grabbed her hands and fisted all but Helena’s index fingers. Then she ran them along each of the three small plaits on either side of her head above her ears that met at her crown.

  “Feel those?” Synne asked.

  Helena nodded.

  “I braided the plaits on each side into two thicker ones before binding them together here,” she said, using Helena’s fingers as she explained everything.

  “I wish I could see it. I can never repay you for this kindness.”

  Synne moved to stand before her. “It was my pleasure. You look beautiful, by the way. Ready to eat?”

  “Is it time already?”

  “Aye,” the Hunter said with a grin.

  Helena got to her feet and glanced down at herself. She was much skinnier than she had been a few months ago. What strength she’d lost would replenish quickly. It had to. She had no idea when they would encounter the Coven, but it would happen, and she needed to be ready.

  She wouldn’t be a liability for anyone. Especially Jarin.

  “Come on,” Synne said at the door.

  Helena drew in a deep breath and followed the Hunter out of the chamber. When Edra had first led her to the room, Helena had been tired with the remnants of weakness hanging on. It was like the bath had washed away all of that along with the dirt. For three days now, she’d regularly had food in her belly, and her strength was returning.

  Synne talked as they walked through the corridors and past chambers, pointing out this and that. Helena listened, but her mind was on Jarin. She wished she didn’t think about him so much, but her thoughts went to him before she had a chance to stop them.

  The closer they got to the hall, the more nervous Helena became. She wanted Jarin to notice her. Nay. That wasn’t true. The truth was much more straightforward.

  She needed to see the hunger in his gaze that Synne had mentioned.

  They turned a corner, and before Helena knew it, they stood in the hall. They must have been the last to enter because the food was already out and seats taken.

  Several tables were empty, denoting Hunters who were out searching for Coven members, but she barely noticed them. Her gaze had found Jarin immediately upon entering.

  Her stomach plummeted to her feet when he glanced her way without a smile. Then he did a double-take, his pale eyes fastening on her with such intensity that it made her stomach flutter and her heart race.

  “Hungrily,” Synne leaned over to whisper. “I told you.”

  Jarin slowly rose to his feet. Valdr padded to Helena. She looked down long enough to smile at the wolf before returning her attention to the warlock. Dimly, she realized that Synne had left her.

  Unsure where to sit, Helena looked around and saw Edra waving her over to their table. The table where Jarin was. Helena started toward them with Valdr by her side. Moments later, Jarin started toward her. She came to a halt when he reached her in the middle of the room.

  “You look as if you feel better,” he said.

  If she thought he would mention her attire, she’d been dead wrong. “A bath seems to be a miracle worker.”

  “I also like the clothes.”

  She smiled. “I’m enjoying them immensely.”

  A slow grin pulled at his lips. “They suit you.”

  She stilled when he reached around and lifted the half of her hair that Synne had left free of the braids. Helena couldn’t take her eyes from his face.

  Just as with the first time he’d touched her hair, he let it drop without a word. Then he shifted to the side and waited for her to move past him.

  On her way to the table, Helena glanced at Synne, who shot her an I-told-you-so look. Helena hastily looked away as she and Jarin reached the main table. She found herself sitting between a tall knight she learned was Radnar and Jarin.

  “You were right to bring her, Jarin,” Edra said with a knowing look at Helena. “She looks refreshed and ready to face anything.”

  “Thank you for all the kindness I’ve received,” Helena said. “As well as for the clothes.”

  “Both of you are always welcome here,” Radnar said.

  “Eat,” Jarin said as he nudged her to grab food.

  Soon, her anxiety disappeared amidst the excellent food, ale, and conversation. She laughed at the stories being told and listened raptly to tales of the encounters the Hunters had with the Coven.

  Helena filed it all away. It wasn’t until the meal was nearly finished that she looked over at Jarin, who was staring into his trencher.

  “Everything all right?” she asked.

  He glanced at her, giving her a quick smile. “Aye.”

  That’s when she realized he was usually on his own. He wasn’t around this many people too often. “Is it too much for you? Shall we go?”

  His head jerked to her. “I’m fine.”

  She cocked a brow, telling him without words that she didn’t believe him.

  “I do not converse well with others,” he admitted with a sigh.

  “I beg to differ.” Without thinking, she put her hand on his arm to offer him comfort.

  There was a beat of silence as they both became aware of her touch. They looked down at her hand as one before she hastily jerked her palm away.

  She couldn’t catch her breath after, thinking of the strong muscles she’d felt beneath her palm—all while wondering what the rest of him felt like.

  9

  Uncertainty wasn’t an emotion Jarin was familiar with. At least, not until recently. Twice, he’d joined with the Hunters and knights to fight the Coven, and he alone knew the growth of their magic.

  He walked from the abbey, wanting and needing the sting of the icy air in his lungs after sitting next to Helena, who looked radiant and so damn pretty he couldn’t stop staring.

  She rattled him like no one before. And when she’d touched him...it had sent a hot, lust-filled jolt straight through him.

  Jarin couldn’t allow his thoughts to deter him from his goals, which was putting the Coven back in their place. The fear he had kept to himself was that the witches might be too powerful now. It helped that the Hunters were agreeable to joining with the Varroki.

  But would it be enough?

  His gaze lifted to the clear night sky. A multitude of stars looked down upon him. Most of his life had been spent staring up at the evening sky before he fell asleep. There was something comforting and soothing about the moon and stars.

  Or maybe he was just so used to living on his own outdoors that he didn’t know how to act in an enclosed space.

  “You do not want to be here, do you?”

  His head turned to the side at the sound of Helena’s soft, sensual voice behind him. He didn’t turn around to look at her. The image of her face had imprinted itself in his mind from the first day he met her.

  Seeing her looking healthier and stronger than before and wearing clothing that showed every amazing curve had only fanned the flames of desire that he had been battling. While he wasn’t inexperienced when it came to bedding a woman, he had few
skills.

  And he wasn’t sure he wanted to act on anything. It was easier to ignore his feelings and everything else involving Helena.

  “If you want to leave, we can,” she said. “Or...perhaps you would rather go alone.”

  He faced forward, unsure how to answer.

  There was a stretch of silence. Then Helena said, “You saved my life. I can never thank you properly for that.”

  “There is no need,” he replied.

  “I disagree.”

  He knew the moment she moved closer. He could feel her, as if invisible strings connected them. Jarin fisted his hands at the sensation of the raw, visceral urges running rampant through him the closer he was to her.

  Even now, he could feel the touch of her hand on his arm. It wasn’t the first time he had been freely touched, but it was the first time he had wanted it. Yearned for it.

  And missed the feel of it when it was gone.

  “We spoke about going after Sybbyl together,” Helena continued. “I will not hold you to that pact.”

  He realized that she was giving him a way out. Why then did it anger him so? “You do not wish to be associated with a warlock?”

  “Nay, that’s not it,” she stated quickly. Then she was before him, glaring daggers at him with her vibrant green eyes. “I see how uncomfortable you are among others, and I wanted to give you an opportunity to go out on your own if that is your wish.”

  Her red locks glowed in the moonlight as if on fire. Jarin had never seen anything so mesmerizing. She had no idea of her appeal—or how much he wanted her.

  “Say something,” she demanded.

  “You should always be bathed in moonlight.”

  Her lips parted as her face went slack. “I berate you, and you compliment me?”

  “I say what needs to be said.”

  He watched the subtle play of emotions on her face. Surprise, confusion, and, finally, delight. The nervous lift of the corners of her mouth gave him more insight into her than words ever could.

  Few had ever given her such praise. She, like Jarin, had let few people close. Fear of the Coven and those without magic kept her isolated, while he had chosen his solitary path.

  Odd that they would find each other.

  Helena shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. “I do not always know what to say to you.”

  “The truth. Always the truth.”

  “Even if I do not want to say it?” she asked.

  He gave a nod. “Especially then. And I will do the same.”

  “I like that.”

  Jarin swallowed and tried, unsuccessfully, to look away from her. “When I leave here, you will be by my side. Unless you have changed your mind about accompanying me.”

  “Nay,” she said hastily, shaking her head.

  That pleased him much more than it should. “Then ease your mind. I’ll be here in the morn.”

  “But you do not like it.”

  “That is not entirely correct.” He’d promised her truth, so it would be honesty that he gave—even if it was hard for him. “I think this place is almost as amazing as Blackglade. The problem is that I do not feel as if I belong here.”

  Valdr walked toward them, coming to sit between them. The wolf leaned against Jarin. Without thinking, Jarin began to slowly pet the animal’s head.

  Helena studied Jarin for a long, quiet moment before she looked at the abbey. “I disagree. I think you most certainly belong, and I know that everyone is quite taken with you.” Her gaze swung back to him. “You do not see the respect and awe others give you.”

  Jarin glanced away, uncomfortable with her statement. He knew the path of a warrior was one seen favorably by his people. He’d grasped his destiny with both hands and never looked back. The toughest part hadn’t been the seclusion or even tracking down the Coven.

  It had been leaving Blackglade and his family.

  What was it about Helena that brought everything he believed he had buried years ago back?

  He jerked his gaze to her when she gently took one of his fists in her hand. He stared at the top of her head as she slowly, tenderly unfurled one finger at a time. Then she placed her hand atop his before lightly running her fingertips over his palm.

  She was closer now. So close, Jarin could smell the lavender on her skin. The scent filled his nostrils and sank into him. When had she closed the distance?

  Enthralled, Jarin stood still as stone when she lowered his hand to his side and reached for the other, repeating the movements again. Then she lifted his palm and pressed her lips to his skin.

  His blood ran hot, pounding in his ears as his breathing became ragged and harsh. Without a doubt, he wanted Helena. Craved her.

  Hungered for her.

  Her head lifted, her gaze spearing him. Her smile was soft with just a hint of seduction, as if she knew her action had rattled him—and she liked it.

  To his surprise, she released him and turned to walk away. Jarin grasped her hand before she could leave. She turned back to him, but he didn’t take her in his arms as he yearned to, didn’t lower his head to her mouth.

  He simply stared at her, trying to find the words to convey what he felt.

  Her lips curved into a grin before she took a step back, their fingers sliding from each other. She pivoted and walked away, but right before entering the abbey, she looked at him over her shoulder.

  How in the world was he going to spend days, weeks, and possibly months alone with her and not give in to the desire that pounded through him?

  His chance to leave Helena behind was gone, but he didn’t regret it. The witch was full of surprises. And he was quite keen on learning more about her.

  For the first time, he was immensely grateful that Malene had changed the Varroki laws because he knew he didn’t have enough willpower to ignore his need for Helena.

  Jarin looked down at Valdr, who blinked at him with yellow eyes. Jarin frowned as he thought about the Coven once more. The elders were gone. The witches would convene soon where Sybbyl could claim the position to rule them.

  She would be the one to take over the role of leader, and there was no telling in what direction she would take the Coven. The more Jarin thought about it, the more concerned he became.

  Sybbyl had changed after she got the Staff of the Eternal. As far as he knew, the same lust for power had not happened to Braith when he claimed the Blood Skull.

  Then again, Braith was the Warden, destined to be the skull’s keeper and make sure it never fell into the hands of the Coven. They had been content to let the skull go and search for other pieces of the First Witch.

  But would Sybbyl feel the same? Or would she go after Braith, intent on killing him to claim the skull as her own?

  Radnar had assured Jarin that Leoma and Braith were prepared for such an outcome, but Jarin wasn’t so sure. And he wouldn’t be until he found Sybbyl again. The glimpse he’d gotten of the witch before she disappeared left him thinking that they were all in for more than they could possibly imagine.

  The elders had fought amongst themselves for power, with all four rarely agreeing on anything. The Varroki and the Hunters had actually benefited from that. But Jarin couldn’t help but think that things were about to get much, much worse if Sybbyl took the Coven in hand as he suspected she would.

  He and Helena needed to leave at first light the next day to begin their hunt for Sybbyl. His instincts were demanding urgency, and he always listened.

  If he were going alone, he would leave right then. But he wasn’t. He’d made a vow to Helena, and he aimed to keep it. A few more hours wouldn’t hurt. He would allow her a night in a soft bed before they began their journey.

  Jarin pivoted and headed back into the abbey with Valdr by his side. He had been shown his chamber earlier, and he headed there now. As he walked, he went over the details of his last encounter with Sybbyl and everything she’d done to Ravyn. The Hunter had nearly died, and would have, had Carac and his men not arrived when they had. And
that was all thanks to Helena.

  While Jarin had expected to fight Sybbyl on his own, he wouldn’t turn away any reinforcements that offered aid. In his dealings with Braith and Leoma, he’d learned just how much someone would fight for another when love was involved.

  He entered his chamber and smiled when he saw Andi sitting on a perch, already asleep. Valdr curled up next to the fire, and Jarin lowered himself to the bed. He lay back with an arm beneath his head, staring at the palm that Helena had kissed.

  10

  She felt the witches enter the Witch’s Grove. One by one, they made their way to the center where they stood in a circle around Sybbyl. Her call had forced those nearest to heed her demand. The number was not even a quarter of their members, but the sight of the witches made her smile.

  Their looks of alarm and disbelief at finding her and not an elder made her incredibly happy. So many who had told her she would never have the magic to become an elder were about to discover just how wrong they were.

  “Behold!” she stated loudly and held up the staff. “The elders’ mishandling caused us to lose the Blood Skull, but I was the one who found the Staff of the Eternal. And, as you can all see, I am now its owner.”

  “How do we know it is the real thing?”

  The voice came from behind her. Sybbyl drew in a steadying breath. She had expected such an outburst, and now it would give her the opportunity to prove just how powerful she was with the staff.

  She let the words and the voice of the witch roll through her head as she pulled magic from the staff. Sybbyl only had to think the spell for the staff to react.

  There was no gust of wind, no smoke or colored magic shot from her or the staff. But the sound of the offending witch gasping for air filled the silence. Within seconds, the woman’s life was taken from her.

  Sybbyl lifted the staff, daring anyone else to question her authority as the witch’s body fell to the ground before disintegrating into ash.

  Looking straight at the witches ahead of her, Sybbyl waited for them to kneel before she turned. Every witch she looked at fell to her knees, their heads bowed in acknowledgment that Sybbyl was the new leader.