by Jessi Gage
With a final kiss, he left the tent, and she curled in on herself. The sounds of boots crunching in snow meant Magnus and his army marched for the caves. She listened until she could hear them no more. Then she wept.
Chapter 27
As Magnus had suspected, the caves were completely abandoned. Torchlight shone on barren rock walls as he led his army through Mammoth. Occasionally, they passed through a cavern with scattered remnants of past habitation, like old hay in moldering piles and broken animal-bone tools. Near midday, they reached the Spring of All Seasons, so named because no matter how cold the weather outside the caves, it remained unfrozen. They stopped to refill their canteens and marched on.
By mid-afternoon, they had emerged on the other side. The fortress lay but a few hours’ walk away if they kept their pace swift. Horses would have sped them along, but the men would have lost that time coaxing the large warhorses through such narrow passages.
Each step through the snow-covered hills increased his agitation at being away from Danu. He’d thought finally bedding her would ease the clenching of his lungs at their separation, but their night together seemed only to have worsened it. How he loved her!
She was his goddess. She was his lover. If he had his way, she would be his pledgemate, and queen, his lifemate, his everything. But she was not his to keep. He would never constrain her as with a lifemate bond. Such a bond would cause her pain when she returned to her heavenly throne. She must never be bound again, not for any reason.
He would return to her a victor, having slain her enemy. Then he would let her go.
Their entire world depended on her speedy return to a place of power where she could bless them. With her reigning over them, more children would be born, a respectable number of females among them. His efforts to maintain a library of their history and occupations would be worthwhile. A new generation would grow and learn not directly from mentors as in the past but from their words and images, captured on paper with ink so their trades and discoveries would live on.
Until his dying breath he would lament the loss of his Danu in bodily form at his side, but he would carry on. He had many tasks to see to which would keep his grief at bay, such as ensuring their culture survived along with them. Training up a new king or queen, likely Riggs and Anya’s firstborn, as his parents had trained him. Instilling a love for Danu in the next generation, beginning with the children Hyrk had deceived.
He had failed them in this, and in many other ways. His dream last night had shown him the error of his ways in excruciating detail. The moment he’d gathered Danu in his arms and lay down, the scene started. Whether it reflected reality or was simply the workings of his conscience, he did not know, but it played over and over in his mind as he led his men today. With each remembrance, it became easier and easier to understand why the children had followed Hyrk to Larna.
Three boys sat together at one end of a rough-hewn table. He recognized them easily as Ruben, Craiden, and Riggs’s youngest brother, Julian. Each held a tin cup of steaming liquid that might have been tea, or perhaps simply hot water if they had no tea leaves at hand.
Behind the boys, flames leapt in a great fireplace. This was the main hall of the fortress he and his men sought. The long room was clean and appeared warm, but furniture was sparse. The boys’ clothing was dirty and worn.
At another table, Alexander bent his head with a group of younger children, eyes alight with planning. Magnus recognized the gleam in his eyes. He’d witnessed it many times before in the eyes of the boy’s father. It was the self-satisfied assurance of one who had yearned for position and recently attained it.
Focusing on the three older boys, who were closer to Magnus’s vantage point, he listened to their hushed conversation.
“I don’t like Alexander’s plan,” Ruben said, sipping from his cup. “He wants to lure the women here and force them to stay. He’ll put them in his sham of a lottery regardless of their wishes. It’s not right. That’s not how ladies should be treated.”
Women? What women? Not human women. He’d rescued them all last moon. And not Larnian females. They’d been taken out of Larna for their safety in the war twenty years past. Sadly, they had been so old and in such rough shape they had all gone to Danu’s breast since then. Magnus knew for a fact there were no women in Larna, let alone healthy women of breeding age.
Craiden snorted. His scruffy, teenage face scrunched up. “Those females—if there’s even more than the one we saw in that mirror thing—aren’t ladies. They’re Larnians. Rejected Larnians at that. If they’re smart, they’ll be grateful when we give them warm rooms instead of those caves they’re living in, never mind the fine clothes we’ve scavenged.” His scowl softened. “But I agree about the lottery shite. They might not be Maranner ladies, but I’m not about to go sticking my cock into someone who doesn’t want it. That’s no way to make our kind live on.”
The other boys nodded while Magnus’s mind reeled with all he’d just heard. He prayed his imagination was conjuring all this, but he feared the dream was like the one he’d had on the night of his coronation, that it was divine and given for a purpose. He held a sleeping goddess in his arms, after all, and her magic moonstone had brought her to him. Perhaps the stone was showing him all this.
Perhaps there were females in Larna. Craiden had mentioned caves. Not the caves his army was to pass through, surely, but perhaps there were caves his men had overlooked during their scouring of Larna after the war.
The presence of women would explain how Hyrk had gained the confidence of the children. They were young, but they understood the state of their world. The existence of females would prove too strong a lure to resist, at least for the older lads.
But what had Craiden meant by “rejected Larnians?” And what was this business about a lottery and taking women who were unwilling? These boys weren’t old enough to enter Marann’s breeding lottery. Only adults were permitted to purchase tickets.
Then again, he remembered being eighteen and nineteen, like many of these boys. He had been years from full adulthood, according to their traditions, but his cock hadn’t known that. Like most other boys, he’d fantasized liberally about taking ladies to bed. Society said he must wait until the age of twenty-five, and he had, but he could have bred a female much earlier.
It seemed the children, led by Alexander, thought to do just that. They must intend to set up a lottery of their own in Larna with whatever females Hyrk had promised them.
He felt sick. Not only because this plan of theirs was a perversion of Marann’s necessary lottery system, but because he had never once considered how heavy a burden these young men carried. The weight of their world rested on their slender shoulders, yet Magnus had never so much as discussed their futures with them.
Clearly, these young ones intended to be part of the solution to their population crisis.
The boys were silent for a time, each sipping his drink and seemingly lost in thought.
Julian said, “Someday, we’ll be old, and there will be hardly any of us left. I think we ought to court these Larnian females slowly. Make friends with them first, see to their needs, offer protection. Once they trust us, we can explain that we’ll all be done for if we don’t find some way to come together in breeding.” Magnus approved. Julian had a quiet wisdom about him like his brother.
“Yeah,” Ruben said. “We’re young. We’ve got time on our side, but Alexander’s in some kind of rush. And he’s got this spark in his eye I don’t like.”
“That’s just Xander,” Craiden said. “He’s like his sire with his grand ideas and his ego. But you have a point about taking our time. If we force breeding on the females, what’ll we tell our sons and daughters? How will we raise them up if their mothers hate us? Better to take our time and get them comfortable with us. Maybe start by finding out why they’ve been in hiding all this time.”
The other boys nodded.
“Do you think the others are buying into it?” Julian
asked.
The three boys glanced at the other table, where Alexander joked and talked with the younger pups.
“I don’t know,” Ruben said. “I know you two are of like mind with me, but I wouldn’t risk talking to anyone else. Not unless they say something first.”
“So what are we going to do?” Julian asked. “Are we going to keep sitting back and observing this madness, or are we going to do something about it?”
“For now, we wait and see,” Ruben said. “We don’t want to wind up like Travis.”
The dream ended, leaving Magnus with a hundred questions, foremost of which was what had happened to Travis. So lost was he in thought he didn’t hear Riggs come up alongside him. The big man had been leading the back centuries while Magnus led the front. But now that they were out of the caves, they could move as a unit instead of in the single-file formation forced by the narrow passages.
“So,” Riggs said, sniffing the air. “It’s true, then.”
“What’s true?” He focused ahead, picking out their trail by keeping an eye on the mountain to their left and the slope of the ground. Within the hour, they would intersect Black River Gorge. Despite the foreboding name, he anticipated a smooth crossing. The water would be shallow this time of year, and though steep banks cradled the river, men on foot could take them easily. Once on the eastern bank, the fortress would be in sight.
“You called on last night’s full moon,” Riggs said, a lopsided grin on his face. “Sire,” he added.
“When it’s just the two of us, you can leave off with that nonsense.” He didn’t expect his second to constantly refer to him by title, and had told him so many times before. “And what do you mean about the moon?”
Vaguely, he recalled it had been a full moon last night. If he weren’t out here with his army, a lottery drawing would have been held, and winners would have greeted their new breeding partners in a celebration at Glendall. As it was, the drawing had to be delayed and would take place upon their triumphant return, providing reason for a double celebration.
Riggs’s eyebrows drew down. “You mean, you didn’t call on the moon? On...Danu’s blessing?”
Magnus’s mind was on the route they must take to the fortress and on the children. He had no time for riddles. “Say what you mean, knight.” His patience grew short, especially since the only reason a man would call on Danu’s blessing on a full moon was— He hitched in a breath.
“That’s how it was for me and Anya,” Riggs said, voice grave.
Magnus’s heart leapt like a falcon eager to leave its cage. “Lifemates,” Magnus said, but surely he was mistaking Riggs’s meaning. He could not have made Danu his lifemate during their coupling last night. True, their finish had been the longest, most glorious finish of his entire life, and true the moon had been full, but he had sought no blessing, as men of old did when wishing to bind their moonsoul to that of another for all time. How could he, when their goddess’s heavenly throne sat vacant? Danu was in no position to grant a lifemating. She was mortal.
But then, she had been in no position to grant Riggs’s lifemating with Anya, either. That hadn’t stopped it from happening.
His mind spun with hope and confusion. And dread.
“Was the end—” Riggs cleared his throat. “For us, the end was remarkable, at least according to Anya. I had nothing to compare it to.”
Magnus cut a sharp look at his second. “How was it remarkable?”
“Uh-hem. Longer, I guess.” He shook his head, the skin above his beard pink.
“Don’t mince words with me. I want to know.” He was desperate to know. He could not have made Danu his lifemate. The risks were too great to contemplate. What if he’d done it by accident and it bound her to him so she could not return to her true form? What if he’d unintentionally bound Seona’s human body to him, and when she returned to it she hated him even more than she already did?
Riggs sighed. Looking around to make sure they were a respectable distance from the men behind, he said, “Being with Anya makes me blind with pleasure. Not just the first time. Every time. And my prick—it extends at the tip when I finish. I never knew it could do that.” His entire face was red, but he pressed on, ever the obedient and loyal knight. “It feels like heaven. It’s more than I ever felt on my own.” He looked pointedly at Magnus to get his meaning across.
“I see.” He spoke the words coolly, but inwardly a riot of emotions pummeled him. What Riggs described matched what he had experienced last night.
Magnus had bedded every woman alive without exception, at least the wolfkind women. As soon as he’d come of age, he’d done what his father had commanded. You must bed them all, son. Keep records. Take as many to bed in a season as you can. Those you take will be kept separate from the lottery that moon. It is vitally important that we produce children, especially daughters. But it is ten-times more vital that you sire an heir. Promise me you will see it done.
He had not known, when he’d made that promise, that it would be the last time he would speak to his father. The king’s heart had failed the very next day, and Magnus had promptly been crowned the new king of Marann.
He’d been grieving his father bitterly when he’d begun taking ladies of breeding age to his bed, and he found much pleasure and comfort in the duty he had sworn himself to. But those experiences had paled in comparison to last night with his goddess. If bedding a woman was a goblet of fine wine, making love to Danu had been a storehouse full of barrels, a lifetime supply of heady drink to last through the ages and beyond.
He had assumed the extraordinary pleasure was a result of the deprivation he’d experienced the past two moons. Since Seona had been found, he had determined to trust his vision. He ceased all attempts to breed with the other women, being faithful to his future queen even though her behavior had done nothing to encourage his faithfulness.
All thoughts of siring an heir had vanished since he’d discovered Seona’s body was home not to the human but to his beloved goddess. Breeding had been the furthest thing from his mind when he’d sunk inside her welcoming sheath last night and poured his love into her, thrust by decadent thrust.
By the moon, his cock was thickening just remembering it.
“It cannot be,” he said firmly. For many reasons it could not be, even if his moonsoul craved to be bound with hers. Could a goddess even be bound to a mortal? There was nothing of the like in the Archives.
“I thought so, too,” Riggs said. “But everyone smelled it on us.” He referred to the distinct lifemate scent. On Anya, the scent repelled all males save her lifemate. On Riggs, it served as a constant reminder to the other men that he was blessed above all others. He alone among wolfkind males had the right to one special female, and she had a right to him. They were irrevocably bound in this life and beyond. “You smelled it on us,” Riggs reminded him. “Now everyone smells it on you.”
Magnus looked at him sharply. “What do you mean?”
“Just what I said.” Riggs looked ahead as they walked, keeping a swift pace. “Your scent has changed. Everyone knows it. The men can’t stop talking about it.”
“Fuck.”
He could think of nothing else to say. Nor did he have time to dwell on the implications of what his second was telling him. They were nearing the gorge, and the hairs on the back of his neck prickled. They were being watched.
Chapter 28
Danu lowered herself to a rock, grateful for another rest. How weak this human body was! She could scarcely walk for an hour before becoming winded.
A water skin appeared before her, held out by the large hand of the commander in charge of their safety. Verden was a large, muscle-bound warrior with a gray beard and a bald head beneath his helm. “My thanks,” she panted as she raised it to her lips.
Verden nodded before returning to the distance he and his men kept from her and Anya.
The water was cold and refreshing as she gulped it down. Not long ago, their party had stopped in a wide
cavern lit with daylight, which shone through a gap in the rock overhead. A deep, blue cold-water spring took up the majority of the space, and it was from this water source the men had refilled their canteens. She and Anya had knelt by the pool and used their cupped hands to slake their thirst. Immediately, the men near them had moved to the other side of the pool, as if they did not want to risk coming into contact with them.
Another stretch of walking through tunnels had brought them to their current location, a barren cavern the size of a modest bedchamber with two tunnels providing access. Rough rock made up the walls, and the ceiling hung so low most of the men had to stoop. The space was empty except for a few boulders, two of which she and Anya sat upon.
She’d lost track of their winding path through the mountain long ago, but she gathered they’d arrived at the cavern Magnus had shown them on the map. The men had stowed some of their gear along the walls and had spread out through the connecting passageways, no doubt to guard her and Anya from every direction. It seemed they would stay here awhile. Not too long, she hoped, because having her king away caused a pang of longing in her chest.
Today, the pain of separation was even sharper than when Magnus had left with his army. The send-off from Chroina felt like only yesterday for her, but in reality, it had occurred six days ago. Her moonstone had brought her and Anya through space and time, and during their walk today, she had been trying to sort out the reason.
Perhaps Magnus needed the moonstone for the coming battle, and now that he had it, their purpose was complete. Or perhaps there was more to it.
Could it be that she and Anya were needed in Larna? Certainly not to join the army in marching to the fortress. Their fragile human bodies could scarcely withstand walking this far from their camp. They could not have trekked another half-day without slowing Magnus and his men. Furthermore, if they met Hyrk and a battle took place, they would surely come to harm. With Anya carrying the first child to be conceived in years, risking her life would be the height of foolishness.