“Why?” Kaedrin broke in with a rare grin. “She never has any of us. I have begun Ayela’s training—where Ivariel left off—on the journey here. Ayela will make a fine priestess.”
“This is all well and good,” Ursula raised her voice over the laughter and babble of remarks in several languages, “but there is still the Dasnarian navy on its way here.”
“Then let’s go turn them around,” Zyr said cockily. “Karyn and I have been deprived of our heroic battle, after all.”
“Zynda and I, also,” Marskal remarked.
“I can keep the ships going in unfortunate circles for some days with my storms,” Nakoa said, startling everyone. The Nyamburans eyed the Nahanaun king’s tattoos with interest.
“And we do have several waves of our ships going that direction,” Dafne added. “Plus our aerial forces are rested and ready to go.”
“I can fly a few of us to the Hákyrling, to consult on strategy,” Zynda said.
“Is that a land?” Ivariel inquired. “It sounds Dasnarian.”
Harlan cleared his throat. “Er, it is our brother Kral’s ship.”
She stilled, going to ice again. “Kral. He is emperor now?”
“No…” Harlan rubbed a hand over his short hair. “Hestar is.”
Ivariel’s expression grew blacker. “Too much to hope he wouldn’t be. And Kral leads the navy for him?”
“He actually left Dasnaria,” Harlan explained. “And he’s fighting for us.”
Her icy demeanor melted into sheer astonishment. “How the world turns and times change,” she murmured. Then she lifted her gaze, her blue eyes clear and determined. “Perhaps Kral will also like to help cut off the head of the beast.”
“You would forgive him so easily?” Harlan seemed sincerely surprised.
“Forgive?” Ivariel pondered the word, then sighed. “I don’t know. You have.”
He looked back at her, lips parting. “How did you know?”
“Oh, baby brother, your goodness is writ all over you. I hear it in your voice.” She asked him something in Dasnarian and he replied slowly. She nodded crisply. “I shall allow him to grovel and we shall go from there.”
“That I’d like to see,” Ursula commented.
“Do you want to go with them?” Harlan asked.
“I cannot.” She shook her head. “I must return to Ordnung. There’s a great deal to do.” Raising her brows at me, she added. “Apparently I have an extraordinary reign yet to conduct.”
I tipped my head at her ruefully. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
“Indeed. It will be interesting to finally settle down to the business of actually running the realm. And I trust my people to handle this Dasnarian aggression. Will you go with them?” she asked Harlan in a carefully neutral tone.
“No.” He lifted his still-bloodied dagger to his forehead in the Elskathorrl. “My place is with you. Always.”
She nodded in acknowledgment, but I read the relief in her. “Whatever supplies you all need, just ask.” Pausing, she looked to Rayfe. “With your permission, of course.”
Rayfe rubbed my shoulders. “Of course. We are all in this together.”
So good, to feel the balance returning. “Will you take the elephants to Dasnaria, though?” I asked Ivariel and Ochieng.
“It will start getting quite cold there before long,” she replied, then turned to Ochieng. “Will you be able to keep the elephants warm enough?”
“For that matter,” Dafne broke in, “how did you keep them warm enough on the journey here? I’ve been wondering about that, since everything I’ve read about elephants indicates they couldn’t withstand the temperatures around the Crane Isthmus.”
“Well, it is still summer, so it wasn’t awful,” Ivariel replied, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “But it turns out that, with the return of magic to Nyambura, the D’Tiembo family’s natural gifts with elephants extend to quite a few supernatural tricks.”
Ochieng grinned easily. “We can keep the elephants warm, yes. Besides, Violet tells me they long to see the land that birthed our Ivariel. And perhaps stomp on a few people.”
The matriarch elephant, Violet, along with Efe and several others, lifted their trunks, trumpeting in apparent agreement.
Frowning, thinking through the logistics even though she’d claimed she was handing over the problem, Ursula added one more thing. “You’ll be sailing there from here then, and eventually you’ll need Andi to get you all through the barrier if you want to get to Dasnaria.”
“Oh.” I straightened, and Rayfe chuckled in my ear. “I forgot to mention. I took the barrier down. It’s gone. Forever.”
They all stared at me with varying levels of incomprehension. Then everyone started shouting questions at once.
The universe might be in a state of constant change, but some things stayed the same. I leaned back into Rayfe’s arms, and laughed.
~ Epilogue ~
“A blindfold seems ridiculous,” I protested to Rayfe. “You know I can see using other means.”
“Yes,” he replied, laughter in his voice as he steered me from behind, hands firm and warm on my hips. “But you promised you wouldn’t.”
“Hmm.” I hadn’t exactly promised.
“A sacred vow,” Rayfe intoned, saying it the way the Shamans chanted to Moranu. He caressed my hips, lightly kneading the muscles of my lower back.
I groaned in appreciation. “Keep doing that and I’ll promise anything you want.”
He chuckled, low and sensuous. “Deal. And we’re here.”
Slipping the blindfold from my eyes, he swept a hand at the scene before me. A decidedly not exciting sight. I’d known we were climbing the path to the cliff top, but I hadn’t expected to see Fiona there, arching her neck in greeting, and lightly pawing the gritty soil with a dainty hoof. I went to her, stroking her gleaming neck and accepting the horse nibbles against my arm. Had I known I’d be seeing her, I would’ve brought a treat. I squinted at her companion, also saddled and bridled. That alone would’ve tipped me off, even if I couldn’t see staymach magic. “That’s a real horse,” I informed Rayfe.
“Can’t get anything past a sorceress like you,” he agreed.
I just gave him a look. “You prefer staymach horses, and…” I scanned the area. “Where’s your wolfhound guard?”
“I told them to stay away.” He looked from me to Fiona. “Would I be insulting your abilities as a rider if I offer to help you up?”
I sighed, running my hands over my distended belly. “I’d like to be offended, but I know I need the help. I take it we’re riding to wherever we’re staying overnight?”
“So clever,” he murmured, ducking with a wicked grin when I snarled. He settled hands on my hips. “You don’t have much of a waist anymore.”
“You don’t have to tell me, but you’re also not winning any points here.”
He slid his hands lower to cup my bottom, smile widening. “Ah, now there’s a better grip. Ready?”
“Are you sure you can lift me?” I braced my hands on his shoulders. The ocean breeze tossed his gleaming dark hair, sunlight picking glints as blue as his eyes and as the deep sea beyond.
“Forever, my queen,” he murmured. And with shapeshifter strength, he lifted me onto Fiona’s back, holding me steady with casual ease while I found my seat.
“I never thought I’d have to ride sideways again,” I griped.
“Kelleah said you’d have an easier time of it, and I’ve promised to go slowly,” Rayfe said, swinging onto the back of the other horse with enviable grace. “I also promised you wouldn’t fall off.”
“I never fall off my horse,” I retorted.
“You did that one time.”
“That was entirely your fault. And, as I’ve told you a hundred times, I didn’t fall: Fiona did, and I went with her.”
He held out a hand, twining his fingers with mine. “Then make sure Fiona doesn’t fall. She’s carrying the two most important
people in the world to me.”
I smiled mistily, blinking the tears away. “You can’t say stuff like that to me right now. I’ve cried three times today already, and once was at the sight of a cup of milk.”
“It doesn’t bother me,” he said, squeezing my hand. “Shall we? It’s not that far, but we do have to go slowly.”
“We could’ve shapeshifted,” I pointed out as Fiona glided into her smooth stride.
“Yes, but you love to ride, and you always complain you don’t get to do it enough.”
True enough. And it was a beautiful day. Peace had returned to Annfwn, magic filtering through everything with abundance, making the sky more blue, the light more golden, and the sounds of laughter, bird song, and the buzzing of pollinators a quiet harmonious symphony. The flowers of Annfwn bloomed with redolent splendor.
And the love of my life held my hand, smiling over at me, as he rode by my side. “This is good,” he said. “Quiet.”
I nearly mentioned the virtual din of sound, but I knew what he meant. No screams. No clashing of weapons. No demands. “Oh,” I realized. “We’re alone.”
“Except for the horses,” he agreed, “but you’re catching on now.”
“Do I get to know where we’re going yet?”
“Not to that cabin, though I considered it. That’s farther than Kelleah would agree to. She wants you close enough for her to attend, should you go into labor.”
“I’m still weeks away.”
“Nevertheless.”
“Besides,” I teased, unable to resist poking at him, “I’d have you with me.”
He didn’t laugh or rise to the bait. Instead he tightened his grip on my hand. “Yes. As long as I live, I’ll be with you. Nothing can change that.”
“My wolf,” I said softly, hating the haunted look in his eye, “I know that. Nothing ever will change that.”
His sensuous lips curved, but his eyes were suspiciously bright, and he cleared his throat. “That said, I’d just as soon not be wholly responsible for helping you deliver our son.”
“Wise.” We’d climbed some ways into the foothills above the cliff city, following a winding path that rose through the dense forest, then ran parallel to the sea. “I don’t think I’ve been this way before.”
“There didn’t used be much this way to see,” he allowed.
Something about the way he said it made me raise a brow. “And now?”
“You’ll see.”
Indeed, around the next bend, we came through a break in the trees, and out onto a promontory jutting high over the ocean. A lovely house sat on the point, with open windows on all sides. A meadow in back beckoned to the horses, who pricked their ears at the scent of the emerald velvet grass, studded with brilliant buttercups.
“Oh, Rayfe,” I sighed. “It’s just so pretty. How did I not know this was here?”
“Because it wasn’t.” He brought his horse to a halt and swung down. Coming over, he held his hands up to me, helping to lever my ungainly self to the ground. “I had it built for you. For us. They just finished yesterday. There may be a few rough edges yet, but I didn’t want to wait to spend a night here with you.”
I gazed at the quiet place, then up at him. “Alone.”
“Alone,” he confirmed. A wry look crossed his face. “Not that they can’t find us if they try, but I left Ami in charge. She knows that it better be an act of war before they interrupt us.”
I mock shuddered. “Don’t even say it. I’ve had enough of war to last the rest of my life.”
“You’re the one with Moranu’s ear. Tell Her so.”
“She knows.” I leaned against him as best I could with my belly between us. “I think all the goddesses agree we deserve some peace.”
“Yes,” he replied fervently, then kissed me on the forehead. “Why don’t you go inside and explore while I take care of the horses?”
“If we’re replicating our wedding night, then I should help you.”
“We’re not tied together this time.”
“Not with rope,” I replied, “but in every other way.”
“In every way that matters,” he agreed, dropping his mouth to mine, lips soft and heated. I hummed, the need rising in me. “Go inside,” he breathed, “I’ll be right there with the bags.”
“All right, but only because I need to pee,” I agreed.
“Didn’t you right before we left?”
“Rayfe, my love, when our son is born, I’ll have him sit on your bladder all day and you can tell me how it feels.”
His laughter followed me as I walked through the velvety soft grass, glad of being in Annfwn where I could simply go barefoot and not try to wedge shoes over my swollen feet. The last few days since the Battle for Annfwn, I’d mostly slept. That seemed to be the best thing for me to recover, and I felt fully restored. A good thing, too, as Kelleah had utterly depleted herself healing people and had been asleep for the last week. Same with Ash, Vanka, and everyone else with a smidgeon of healing magic.
I entered the open doorway of the cottage, the cool ocean breeze wafting in from the graceful balcony that overhung the sea. It wasn’t large, consisting mainly of the one open room with a wide porch ringing it on three sides. A large bed with fluffy pillows took up most of one corner, and various lounging spots for reading, napping, or simply lying in the sun took up the rest of the space.
Rayfe came in and set the saddlebags down. I turned, smiling at him. “Is that a bed like the one from the wedding night cabin?”
“The same bed,” he confirmed.
“You brought it here?”
“I had it brought here,” he clarified. “In pieces. Sometimes it’s good to be king, and although we didn’t spend much time in the actual bed”—his smile widened salaciously—“I thought it brought us good luck.”
“True. As I recall, most of the sex occurred on that white fur before the fireplace.”
“Yes, which is why I had that brought, too.”
I followed his gaze to the white bear fur in front of the fireplace on the one wall without windows. “A fireplace—in Annfwn?”
“We can make a fire without heat, for ambience.” He ran his long fingers over my bare arms, eyes going lambent with wicked intent. “I loved the way the firelight flickered over your skin, the way it brought out the red in your hair. You glowed from within, Andromeda. You took my breath away and I kept wondering what I’d done to deserve such a beautiful, magical, and brilliant woman to be my wife.”
“Rayfe,” I breathed, unutterably moved. “The brutal foreign king who waged a war to capture me… a romantic?”
His expression went determined, and he combed the hair back from my face, threading his fingers through it. “I once told you that I would’ve wooed you properly, had I been able to. And I’d thought to do it after, to give you romance and win your love. Then I somehow forgot.”
“‘Somehow,’” I echoed with a smile. “We’ve been a little busy. Besides, you didn’t have to win my love. You’ve had it all along.”
“But I won’t take it for granted, ever again,” he replied with somber intensity. “I hate that anything I did ever led you to believe I found you ugly, or anything but the most admirable person I know.”
“It wasn’t you,” I reminded him. “She—”
“No,” he interrupted, then kissed me, an edge of desperation in it. “I let my fears open the doors to doubts. Never again. Will you lie with me, my queen?”
“Yes. Oh, yes.” I glanced down at my round, taut belly. “Though we’ll have to figure out a way.”
“I have some ideas.” He smiled, sensual and confident, the wolf in his eyes. “Come over here.”
He started to lead me to the bed, but I resisted. Turning back with quick concern, he looked me up and down. “No?”
“The rug.” I tugged his hand in that direction. “Like the first time.” With a flick of a thought, I made a fire burn, flickering ruby flames without heat.
“Beautiful,�
�� he murmured, but he was looking at me.
“It will be pretty when night falls,” I said, smoothing my hands over his leanly muscled chest, untying the laces that held the black silk together. Separating the sides, I pushed it off of him, following the carved lines of his arms, chest and abdomen. So gorgeous, my husband.
He slipped the light straps of my gown from my shoulders, letting the simple light shift pool at my feet. I hesitated, feeling decidedly unbeautiful, with stretch marks on my breasts and belly. I could’ve shapeshifted to erase them, but it seemed a waste of energy when the marks simply reappeared overnight. And that did nothing about the enlarged blue veins tracing spider webs over my breasts, belly, and thighs—or the rest of me being so swollen and just… so large and ungainly.
But Rayfe’s expression was rapt, his hands greedy on my skin as he cupped my breasts, running thumbs over the engorged areolae. His hair veiled his face, but not the smile of wicked delight at my sharp intake of breath, followed by a guttural moan at the shock from my sensitive nipples.
“Your body is different now,” he murmured, lowering his mouth to delicately kiss one nipple, then the other.
I clutched at his shoulders, unbalanced by the intensity of the sensation. “In so many ways,” I agreed.
He lifted his head, eyes brilliantly blue under black winged brows. “Next time, I will follow every change, every day will be a new discovery, together.”
“Next time?” I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I’d been so consumed with premonitions of annihilating war that it hadn’t occurred to me to imagine life beyond that. But here we were: living the rest of our lives.
“If you want to?” Rayfe asked, concerned by my shock.
“I want to,” I assured him. “I want a dozen children. More.” Especially since our son would belong to Moranu. Time enough to face that day when it came.
“Two dozen?” Rayfe suggested.
“We do have a race of shapeshifters and wizards to rebuild,” I pointed out.
“Very true.” His mouth took mine in a kiss full of wild emotion, the charge of it surging between us, his thoughts—full of love and optimism—twining with mine as his hands roamed every curve of my body, learning it anew.
The Fate of the Tala Page 34