King's Highlander

by Jessi Gage

  “Darling daughter, the only one to have ever expected perfection from you is you. To me, you are perfect in who you are and in the love you put forth in all you do. There is no other kind of perfection that matters.”

  Her heart wanted to soften at his words, but she did not allow the softness. Could her father not see the devastation around her? Did he not realize it had all begun when she’d accepted Hyrk’s wager?

  “I suspect Magnus would disagree with you,” she said. If she had lived up to the perfection she expected of herself, he would be alive and well.

  “Not so. Your Magnus would be the first to agree with me.” The air around her warmed. “He also considers you perfect just as you are.”

  She snorted. “Perfect? In this human body? While my creation crumbles around me?” Tears leaked from her eyes. She swiped at them angrily. “It does not matter what he would have thought, anyway. He’s gone—or nearly so.” And she could not even welcome his soul into heaven. He deserved so much better.

  “You sound so certain, daughter. Is there no room in your heart for hope?”

  She scoffed. Hope? For two thousand years, she’d hoped for rescue, and when it had seemed to come, it was nothing but a stepping stone to more devastation.

  “Perhaps, once,” she said. “But I have learned that hope is an illusion, an unmet expectation. A goddess does not hope. A goddess acts. But my actions only result in death.”

  “Sweet, sweet Danu. My princess. I did not think it was possible to be disappointed in you. Until now.” Her stomach shriveled. “You have learned a lesson, my daughter, but the wrong lesson.”

  Finally, he would voice his displeasure. She waited for it. She deserved it.

  “Turn around,” he said, surprising her.

  Dread was a weight around her neck. If she turned, she would see Magnus’s body. Would there be suffering in his eyes, or would they stare at the sky emptily? She did not want to look, but she must. Her father’s commands were to be obeyed.

  Chin trembling, she turned, and was instantly overwhelmed with all she saw.

  Duff, with his raven hair and flawless skin visible in the full light of day, crouched protectively over her—or Seona, rather, in her body. Seona was no longer in Hyrk’s dungeon. She was no longer in Hyrk’s dungeon! “How—” she started to ask, but stopped when she realized the two were frozen in time, as was everything in the mortal realm.

  If that was not startling enough, beyond Duff and Seona, there should have been a dragon lying in the river, but instead, Hyrk was splayed out on the rocks with water cascading over him. His blood-red hair lay limp across his brow and clung to his cheek. In the center of his chest was a gory crater with a dagger jutting from it.

  Beside Hyrk, where Magnus’s body should be, was her king. Not dead, not broken, but frozen above the water in the moment before impact.

  She lunged toward him, clawing at the wall of the globe. “Magnus! Magnus! I thought—” A sob shuddered from her chest. He hadn’t hit the ground. The thud she’d heard must have been from the dragon—who appeared to have been Hyrk. “Oh, father!” She whirled to face her father, squinting at his glory. The wetness in her eyes this time was from relief. “You stopped his fall.”

  His radiant smile filled her with light and happiness. “I did,” he said, and she heard a note of mischief in his voice. “Why have I chosen this moment, my princess?”

  How many times had she heard that question while sitting on his lap? He was quizzing her now, just like back then. The difference was that now she stood inside one of his globes.

  Just like back then, she desperately wished to impress him. So she took great care in studying everything around her. The warriors on the bank, Hyrk, her sweet Magnus, whose peaceful face looked up at the sky, as if he accepted what was about to happen.

  Hyrk must have taken on a dragon’s form. The only reason she could think of for Magnus and Hyrk to fall from the sky at the same time, was if they had battled.

  The dagger in Hyrk’s chest. The peace on Magnus’s handsome face.

  Realization dawned. Her king had bested her enemy!

  Her gaze fell to the dagger. She recognized the handle, having seen it in her king’s hand earlier, when Duff had surprised them in Magnus’s chamber. Somehow, he’d destroyed Hyrk’s gemstone! He had defeated Hyrk!

  She was truly free! Hyrk would harm her people no more!

  Magnus had given his life to conquer her enemy. Her chest burned with love and gratitude. How she wanted to go to him and throw her arms around him!

  But her father waited for an answer. She forced herself to concentrate on the question: why this moment? There was something here that could spark change in her realm. She was determined to find it.

  She considered Duff and Seona. When Hyrk had died, his dungeon would have been rendered useless. That explained their presence here in her realm. It was what they had planned, after all, for her and Seona to be together so—so they could each return to their true forms.

  Her insides went cold as the answer became clear.

  “I am to make a choice,” she said. “And that choice will determine what happens to Magnus.”

  His skin shimmered with warmth. “Perceptive, as always, my daughter. Tell me, what choice do you face?”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Whether I wish to return to my true form.”

  A few days ago, returning to her true form had been a foregone conclusion. She simply must return. She was a goddess. Her place was to rule over, protect, and bless her people. There was no choice involved. It simply was.

  But in this moment, faced with actually returning to her deity... Heavens! She did not want to. She was not ready to leave.

  She had only just begun to experience her realm as part of that creation rather than its overseer. Anya’s friendship brought her happiness. Embracing children brought her joy. Attending kingdom celebrations brought her a sense of community she had never before known. Taking a mortal lover brought her tender intimacy that ran so much deeper than physical pleasure.

  The temptation to remain mortal was strong. But how else could she mend all that had gone wrong except to return to her true form? How else could she ensure the safety of the children, who still faced a vicious enemy? How else could she bless her people beyond measure as recompense for all they had suffered? How else could she save Magnus’s life?

  “Why do you give me this choice when it shouldn’t be a choice at all? I cannot abandon my people. There is no other decision I can make but to return to them as their goddess.”

  “You think living among them, serving as their queen, would be abandoning them?”

  Their queen? Her father made it sound as if Magnus would live, even if she chose to remain mortal. Otherwise, Anya would be queen to Riggs’s king. A glimmer of hope lit her heart like a sliver of sunshine.

  “You would save him for me?”

  “How could I not?” was his answer.

  “But—but this is my realm. My responsibility.” The Sacred Way was clear that a Creator god or goddess was, alone, responsible for ruling their realm. Other deities were not permitted to interfere. This rule had protected her people from Hyrk’s whims, forcing her enemy to great lengths in his attempted overthrow. But what had been meant as a protection for mortals had often made her feel lonely. Even before Hyrk’s dungeon, truth be told, she had longed for someone to discuss important mortal matters with, to rule at her side.

  The only way to have someone like that would be to enact the Sacred Tradition, but no deity had ever made her wish to marry before.

  The sun’s brightness shifted from side to side, as if her father slowly shook his head. The clouds darkened except for where his glory pierced them. Fat raindrops pattered on the globe.

  “You truly believe you must do it all on your own?” her father said. “That you cannot ask for help from time to time? How it saddens me that you do not call out to your father in your distress! Two thousand years in prison, and you n
ever once asked for my help. Still, when your beloved’s mortal life is at stake, you do not appeal to me. You are grown. You have your own people—your own responsibilities. But am I not still your father? Do I not still love you? Can I not give you gifts of help when you are in need?”

  Rain turned to pouring. Her father grieved, and nature wept with him.

  She grieved. Her father’s sadness overwhelmed her. And what he’d said—she hadn’t known. She’d always assumed that possessing the power of Creation meant she was on her own. It had never occurred to her to ask for help.

  She crumbled to the floor of the globe. Sobs racked her entire body as she understood what her father was saying. He would have helped—if only she had asked.

  “I—I’m so sorry! I never thought—I never—” She could hardly speak for the regret crushing her chest. “Oh, Father, I have been so proud. I wanted to prove to you that I was capable. But all I proved was how stubborn I am. I am so sorry!”

  He remained silent as she cried out her agony. When her tears finally subsided, she said, “You would have helped me? Even in Hyrk’s dungeon?”

  “Oh, daughter.” The rain stopped, and the darkest clouds rolled back. “I did help you.”

  With his words came Duff’s image. He had come to her when she’d summoned him, even though she had not been certain her summons would work within the cell of cold-iron. Her moonstone had found its way from Duff to Anya to Magnus and back to her again, completing its circle of power. Her father had done it, she realized. He’d done all of it. Sending Duff to her in Magnus’s chamber, bringing her and Anya to Magnus’s camp on the other side of Mammoth.

  Her heart skipped a beat as she realized what else her father had done.

  “It was you! When Seona fell from the cliff, it was you who made us swap places.” Her father had been nudging her fate all along. He had sent her into her realm to live as a mortal. “You sent me to Magnus.” Her mind filled with the image of the portrait over the second throne, the one of Seona holding the fair-haired child. “You gave him that vision all those years ago.” It all made sense now! All the things she could not have done because she was in that cell. It hadn’t been her power working through her moonstone but her father’s power.

  Her gaze cut to Magnus. For the first time, she realized he had his fist curled around something, something connected to his neck by a bejeweled chain.

  Relief and laughter bubbled within her like the bright refreshment of ambrosia.

  “Yes. It was my power,” her father said, as if he had read her thoughts. “I helped you then. And I will help you now. This man, this king, has given his life for you. What kind of father would I be if I do not rescue my daughter’s rescuer, my daughter’s husband, when it is in my power to do so? When his living would ensure your happiness?”

  “Husband?” Had she heard him correctly? “But we are not wed,” she blurted.

  “Your moonsoul says differently.”

  Her moonsoul? But that most essential part of her would only declare her wed if she shared a lifemate bond with Magnus. Her breath caught.

  “Last night!” she said in a rush. “It happened last night! We became lifemates!” It had been a full moon. She’d only known because Magnus had postponed the lottery drawing that normally occurred on the night of the full moon. That explained the extraordinary lovemaking. It hadn’t been because of the mortal body she inhabited but because of her moonsoul joining with that of the man meant for her and her alone.

  The sun burst through the clouds, accompanied by waves of warmth. “Yes, my darling. You are no longer my princess. You are Magnus’s queen. You are his moonsoul and he is yours.”

  I am his lifemate. And he is mine. I am wed!

  “You are joined now,” her father said. “You need each other. Which is why you must know this before you choose. If you return to your throne in heaven, he will suffer and eventually waste away in your absence. If you choose deity, it would be kinder to allow him to perish now. But if you choose mortality, I will bless you. Both of you. And I will guide and help the united pair who will rule over your realm in your stead.”

  Her head spun. Because she and Magnus were lifemates, returning to her heavenly throne would hurt him. Her choice was becoming clearer and clearer. But what had her father just said? “United pair?”

  His glory shone in a beam onto Duff and Seona, and instantly, they moved. Duff straightened, his sculpted, perfectly handsome face taut with worry. How she had missed his face! What a joy it was to see him in the light of day!

  Within the protective circle of Duff’s arms, Seona rose to her full height, which nearly matched Duff’s. Blood stained her knees beneath the hem of her shift, but the wounds healed before Danu’s eyes. The crystal-blue eyes that used to stare back at her in the mirror searched the globe.

  “Wha—what has happened?” she said in her burred accent. Grabbing onto Duff’s arm, she looked at him, and her jaw fell open. “Why, you’re—you’re perfection!”

  He bowed his head to her, his affection clear.

  They looked beautiful together. A statuesque goddess with flowing blond hair and a dark, winsome Faerie. United pair. Duff and Seona must have enacted the Sacred Tradition. How interesting!

  Duff noticed the globe surrounding them all. He gasped when he saw Magnus and Hyrk. When he at last spotted Danu, he grinned.

  “Well, you don’t see that every day,” he said.

  “Duff,” she said on a joyful laugh, and she stepped to him. He leaned down so she could kiss his cheek.

  Seona’s shoulders tightened. Her nostrils flared.

  “Easy, love,” Duff said, jostling his new wife affectionately. “Just a friendly greeting.”

  Danu smiled so wide her cheeks hurt. “It is good to see you.”

  Duff’s laughter tinkled around them.

  “Deity suits you,” she said. He had always been impeccably beautiful, but he positively glowed now.

  The grin fell from his lips. “About that,” he said. “I did it because of the souls. Seona could not let them through, and I thought, if I shared her power I could help—”

  She interrupted him. “I am not angry. Perhaps I would have been before. But not now. I believe congratulations are in order.”

  He blinked with surprise. Then, typical of the Fae, he recovered quickly. Sniffing the air, he said, “Likewise, I’m sure.” He could detect the lifemate scent on her when she couldn’t detect in on herself.

  Her heart smiled, but the joy quickly faded as the fate of those souls and the children in the fortress pressed at her.

  “Father?” She would take his words to heart. When she needed help, she would ask for it, starting now.

  Before she could speak, her father said, “I know, my darling. Do not worry for them. All will be set right.” Her father knew her heart before she could voice what she needed. He never ceased to amaze her.

  The tension in her chest relaxed. Her father would ensure those warrior souls received the peace they deserved. While she had no trust whatsoever for Seona, she did trust that Duff would rule her realm justly.

  Heavens! It seemed she had made her choice.

  “Thank you, Father,” she said. “For everything.” Gratefulness filled her heart for all he had done and all he had taught her.

  A gentle pressure around her shoulder was his embrace. “You are my daughter,” was his reply.

  She wept, but this time, they were happy tears. When she wiped them away and could see clearly again, she blinked in surprise. Magnus stood in front of her, brows drawn together in confusion.

  “Oh, Magnus!” she cried, and she threw her arms around him. “Oh, I love you! I love you so much!”

  He nearly fell backward at her assault, but his strong legs kept them upright. His arms closed around her. “Danu? My beloved?” He felt her face and head with trembling hands. “Am I—?”

  “You’re alive!” she said, laughing and crying at the same time. And she could say no more, because her lip
s were kissing every inch of his face.

  He received her affection in shocked silence, his gaze intense on her, his grip on her waist almost painful in its tightness.

  A sudden thought made her reel back. She hadn’t yet told her father her choice. She faced the sun over Magnus’s shoulder. “I have changed my mind,” she said with a smile. “I wish to remain right here.”

  Frowning, and still somewhat bewildered looking, Magnus peered over his shoulder, no doubt seeking the one she addressed.

  “To whom do you speak?” he asked, gaze roving over the clear casing of the globe. With one hand—a steady hand this time—he reached out to touch its surface. A ripple started at his fingertip and spread over the entire surface like the pattern made by a rock in a calm pool.

  “No, your mind has not changed,” her father said. “You made your decision before I appeared.” With those words, the heather-gray sky closed up around the sun, blotting it from view.

  Chapter 33

  Battle-lust thundered in Magnus’s veins. Or perhaps it was the shock of falling from a league above the Earth alongside a mythical dragon and not hitting the ground, but instead finding himself within a floating sphere that seemed neither solid nor liquid but something in between. If that were not strange enough, he was not alone in the sphere. His lifemate should be leagues away safe in the caves, but here she was, shining her smile on him. And then there were the two figures bathed in light looking on.

  Danu had assured him he was alive, but he could hardly believe it. “How is this possible?” He smoothed his hands over her face and hair, assuring himself she was hale. “How are you in my arms? What—” He indicated the sphere with a lift of his chin. “Is all this?” Beyond the sphere, his army was frozen. Not because of the cold, but stopped in place as if they were children’s toys in need of winding.

  Danu gazed at him with tears shimmering in her eyes. A bubbling laugh parted her lips. “My father has helped us,” she said and kissed him again. Her mouth on his obliterated all thoughts except those centering on his love for her.