Dante didn’t even blink when Thomson disappeared. Instead, he directed his attention toward the rest of the gathering. “Roshan, get Kier and the others. We’re going to need some help with this.” Turning toward the group of bloodkin soldiers, he scowled. “All of you…If you want to be spared upon my return, take this woman to the tower and make sure she doesn’t escape.”
Roshan responded to Dante’s words by turning on his heel and disappearing down the corridor, presumably to go through with the command. The bloodkin weren’t nearly as efficient. “Yes, Your Majesty,” one of the soldiers said, although he still seemed to hesitate.
“Your Highness,” Dante corrected the other man. “Last time I checked, my father was still alive.”
Eli didn’t bother to tell his mate that might not be the case if they didn’t hurry. Dante already seemed more than aware of it. With excruciating gentleness, he took his father in his arms and left the cell. Eli did the same with Valerian, and rushed after his mate. His mind was already screaming at him, berating him for what he intended to do. Even so, Eli would not back down. He’d face his father and his past, and hopefully with the help of Mother Earth, he’d come out the victor.
Fortunately, Thomson came through for them with striking expedience. As they ran toward the dungeon exit, he reappeared at their side and said, “Prince Gideon is in his quarters. Apparently, he’s been drugged, although not with Blood Freedom.”
“Of course,” Dante murmured. “They’d want him to be out for the count until they went through with their plan.”
Thomson nodded. “I’ve managed to wake him, but he is still dazed.”
“That’s going to be a problem,” Vane said. “You can’t just leave the palace with no one to handle it.”
“True,” Dante said. Before he could add anything else, their group ran into Kier’s. Cole released a curse when he saw them, while Kier paled, something quite striking given Kier’s dark coloring. “Sweet Mother Earth,” the other elf said. “What happened?”
“Blood Freedom,” Eli replied simply. “Quickly. We need to get them to my father.”
Kier didn’t look particularly thrilled at the idea of having to return to Manturanael, but neither did he protest. They didn’t have time to hesitate or doubt. There was too much at stake here.
“Vane, Cole, I’m giving you back your Kin Lord positions, at least on a temporary basis. In my absence, help Gideon hold the fort and make sure nothing else goes wrong.”
“I’m going with you,” Kier offered. Dante assented with a brisk nod, already heading toward the stables.
Cole didn’t seem very happy about Kier’s decision. Given his long separation from Kier, Eli didn’t blame him. But then, Kier kissed Cole’s cheek and smiled slightly. Eli half expected the bloodkin to keep Kier from going, but Cole didn’t. Instead, he pulled Kier close for a real kiss, one of passion and need. When they broke apart, the bloodkin brushed his thumb over Kier’s lower lip. “Good luck.”
In spite of the awful circumstances, Eli felt pleased that his friend had finally managed to find happiness. That brief pang of glee was overshadowed, however, by the knowledge of his own mate’s distress. “Come on,” he told Kier. “Let’s go.”
With a silent good-bye toward his friends, Eli rushed after Dante and to the stables. Death was already looming close to Aran and Valerian, and salvation lay in Manturanael. Would they manage to reach Hashiraden in time? Would Eli’s father even agree to receive them? Eli couldn’t be sure, but he certainly hoped so. He had to believe that, no matter how much hatred elves felt for bloodkin, his sire wouldn’t refuse such a request. He didn’t want to even consider what would happen if they were refused.
Chapter Eight
A long time ago, before bloodkin influence had extended all over the continent, elves had kept an eye on human activity. Back then, elven envoys had, at times, even opened trade routes. For the purpose of their transportation, magical portals were created.
No one even knew anymore what kind of power had been behind the emergence of these gateways. After the bloodkin expansion, most of the ones on the continent had been abandoned, left forgotten, and unused. Since only an elf could open them, there was no danger for anyone outside these species to end up in Manturanael.
Nevertheless, in Eli’s memories, Dante had seen that the portals still existed and remained in working order. In fact, one of the gateways lay in the Tachakan plains, very close to the bloodkin capital.
This proved to be fortunate in more than one way. First of all, this had been the portal used by Eli and the others to escape shortly after Dante’s death. Moreover, this would be the gateway that would carry Dante and his companions to Manturanael, and hopefully to the cure Aran and Valerian so desperately needed.
They left the palace using the bloodkin horses bred for the exclusive use of the Imperator. Dante held onto Aran, always paying close attention so as not to jar his father’s body too badly. Valerian received the same treatment from Eli, while Kier rode ahead, scanning for any possible threats. To prevent additional problems, Dante remembered to put on a strong glamour so that the Tachakan citizens wouldn’t see him carrying away the half-dead Imperator.
This strategy worked, and they exited the city with no incident. Even so, an impending sense of doom weighed on Dante’s heart. This wasn’t how he’d imagined the day of his resurrection. He’d wanted to finally wipe away the guilt he could see every time in Aran’s gaze. He’d been dreaming of completing his mate bond with Eli and finally having a family. Alas, it seemed that fate had other ideas.
Unlike Eli, Dante didn’t dare to hope that his mate’s father would help them. From his point of view, a man who banished his own son for no reason other than being a good friend couldn’t be relied upon. But Eli still believed in his father, and Dante truly had no other option but to trust his mate’s assessment. In the end, just like he’d told the rest of the bloodkin back at the palace, this was the only option they had that gave Aran and Valerian even a slim chance for survival.
At last, they reached their destination, a small grove in the middle of the Tachakan plains. Dante had passed this spot countless times without knowing what it hid. To his bloodkin eyes, the area looked completely normal, the only thing that could have possibly drawn the eye being a tree stump.
Everyone dismounted, and Dante carefully lifted his father off the horse. As Eli did the same with Valerian, Kier eyed the two bloodkin with clear skepticism. “I don’t think they’re in any condition to withstand a transport through the portal,” the dark elf said.
Dante had never travelled through an elven portal. He’d caught brief glimpses of it in Eli’s memories, but nothing significant enough to allow him to understand what Kier meant.
“The trip is hard on people who’ve never experienced it before,” Eli explained. “Perhaps we should try something different.” “Like what?” Dante inquired. “We don’t have time for further
delays.”
“I was thinking to go ahead and let my father know,” Eli mused,
“but you’re probably right in that it wouldn’t work.”
“I guess you’re right. We have no choice but to chance it,” Kier
said as he headed toward the tree stump. “From what I know, Blood Freedom is very potent. In fact, if I’m not mistaken, the Imperator and
Prince Valerian should have already been dead.”
“I can only guess some modifications were made to the
substance,” Dante answered, following the dark elf with his father in
his arms and his horse in tow. “Is this where we need to be?” Kier nodded. “If I may, perhaps you’d allow me to carry your
father,” he told Dante. “This is your first time traveling this way and
you might lose your balance.”
The words were likely not meant as an insult, but Dante couldn’t
help but bristle. His naturally suspicious nature pointed out that Kier
had a lot of
reasons to hate Aran. They had a history, and a very
unpleasant one at that. Dante’s father had once exiled Cole, therefore
separating Kier from his mate for fifty years. Upon Cole’s return,
Aran had taken him as a lover. And okay, Dante’s reluctance to
cooperate with Kier might have also had something to do with the fact
that a part of him was still jealous of the dark elf. How in the world
could he possibly trust the other man with something so precious to
him?
“I understand how you feel,” Kier said, surprising Dante. “But I
think now that he’s a good man. He was just…misguided.” Misguided. Dante supposed that word was quite generous, from
Kier’s perspective, at least. Dante honestly would have preferred to
give his father to Eli, but his mate was carrying Valerian, and they
couldn’t wait around passing unconscious people to each other while
the persons in question suffered.
Then, Dante looked in the dark elf’s eyes, and for a moment there
he saw the same man Eli did, a good friend who’d found happiness
and had left the past behind. Something eased inside his heart, the
burden of doubt slowly vanishing. Without a word, he handed Aran to
Kier. Strikingly, Kier was just as careful with Aran as Dante himself
had been, which confirmed the fact that Dante had made the right
decision.
“If you’d do the honors, Eli,” Kier said as they all gathered around
the tree stump. Eli nodded and started to chant. Before Dante even
knew what was going on, the world started to swirl madly. Lights
flashed in his vision, reminding Dante far too much of the first day
after his death.
He didn’t know how long it all lasted, but when the madness
stopped, Dante fell to his knees and took a couple of deep breaths. His
first thought was that Kier had been correct about the portal’s effect.
As his mind cleared, he realized something else. The air smelled
different. It felt different. When Dante looked up, he was unsurprised
to find himself in a wide grove, surrounded by light elves. He was in
Manturanael.
Unwilling to allow the nausea to keep him on his knees in front of
the people he still considered his opponents, Dante got up.
Meanwhile, the elves in the area were gathering around them, holding
wicked-looking bows. Judging by their expressions, they weren’t very
happy to see Eli back, and even less pleased that Eli had brought
bloodkin with him.
All of the lingering dizziness vanished, replaced by tension and
apprehension. Dante could probably take these elves on long enough
to make an escape, but the situation of their injured worsened with
every passing second. Coming here had to be the craziest thing Dante
had ever done, but he held his ground and didn’t allow anyone to see
his anxiety.
Eli handed Valerian to him and smiled slightly. “Don’t worry,” he
mouthed. “We’ll get through to them.”
Dante wanted nothing more than to hug his lover tightly. Instead,
he held onto his dying brother and waited to see what would happen.
Turning away from him, Eli slowly approached the other light elves.
Instantly, dozens of arrows were pointed his way.
Even if he held Valerian in his arms, Dante couldn’t help but take
a step forward. Kier stopped him, placing himself between Dante and Eli. “Don’t. If you want this plan to have any chance of success, you
have to trust Eli will know what to do.”
“I trust Eli,” Dante murmured. “They, on the other hand, are a
different matter entirely.”
Having obviously overheard him, one of the elves threw a dirty
look his way. “And what would a bloodkin know of trust?” he
sneered.
Eli intervened before the matter could escalate into violence.
“Please. I didn’t come here to fight. I just want to see Father.” “I don’t believe that would be a very good idea,” another elf guard
said. “Turn back at once.”
“This is important,” Eli insisted. “These men need his help. Could
you at least take a message to him?”
All of a sudden, a loud voice rang out in the grove. Dante looked
past the group of assembled guards and saw a tall, blond elf
approaching. His somber air and elegantly embroidered outfit clearly
illustrated that he occupied a position of authority. Something about
him, likely his gold eyes, reminded Dante of Eli.
“That won’t be necessary,” the new arrival said. “I’m right here.”
* * * * Several months had passed since Eli had last seen his father. At that time, his sire had banished him from Manturanael, only because he’d allied himself with Vane in order to save Kier.
His father hadn’t changed in the slightest, but that came as no surprise. Of course, physical differences were out of the question, but Eli had been hoping for some sign that his sire had missed him. Obviously, he’d been asking for too much. Ironically, when he was in public, Sorr Starburst showed as much emotion as some bloodkin Eli had recently met.
Of course, Eli couldn’t say it surprised him. Growing up, he’d gotten used to his father’s ways. He’d never known his mother, as she had unexpectedly died when she’d given birth to him, but according to what he’d been told, she hadn’t been Sorr’s true mate. Eli guessed that might be one of the reasons why his father had never had the ability to understand him.
But Eli didn’t let that stop him. Pushing past the guards, he met his father halfway. As Sorr arched a brow at him, Eli dropped to his knees and bowed. “I humbly request your assistance for a matter of grave importance.”
“So I heard,” Sorr answered. “Rise, son. I do believe we don’t have time for formalities.”
Eli looked up at his father, taking in Sorr’s matter-of-fact demeanor with wide eyes. Automatically, he followed Sorr’s command and shot to his feet. Sorr threw him a small, almost imperceptible smile, making Eli revise his opinion of his father’s approach toward public displays of affection. It startled him so much that he almost missed what his father said next. “As I understand it, the Imperator is gravely injured. We must get him medical attention at once. Where is he?”
If he wanted to be honest, Eli had expected to have more of a battle on his hands, to have to coax and plead in order to convince Sorr to assist them. But his father seemed to already be aware of the matter, which surprised Eli a great deal. Not to mention that this unexpected helpfulness was quite out of character. Nevertheless, Eli quickly recovered and headed toward his waiting mate. “This way.”
The elven guards allowed them to pass, and they rushed together to Kier and Dante. Sorr took one look at the unconscious bloodkin and said, “This is very bad. We must make haste. Follow me.”
Was it Eli’s impression or did Sorr’s gaze linger slightly on Aran? The brief moment of hesitation likely went unnoticed by the rest of those present, but not by Eli. Either way, no one spoke as they abandoned the grove with the portal and headed toward the city. Fortunately, this particular portal was very close to the capital city of the elves, Hashiraden.
Hashiraden was one of the few places in Manturanael where both breeds of elves lived together. Living here had allowed Eli to meet Kier and eventually fall in love with the orphaned night elf. As they entered the capital city, Eli greedily took in its beauty and its quiet elegance, the way his kind had built every structure around the trees, integrating their lifestyle within nature, instead of modifying it.
&
nbsp; It felt surreal to be walking through the streets of Hashiraden with Dante. But nothing, not even the awe-inspiring sight of Hashiraden could wipe away Eli’s growing fear. Suddenly, the city’s size became an annoyance. Other elves glanced at them as they passed, their curiosity and quiet disapproval settling over Eli like a malevolent cloud. He ignored it, but it still seemed to take forever for them to finally reach the temple of Mother Earth.
When Eli saw the large structure looming ahead, a small spark of hope bloomed inside him. So far, things had gone well. His father had proven to be quite cooperative. And if anyone in this world could heal Aran and Valerian, it had to be the elven priests of Mother Earth.
As Sorr led them inside, a remarkable number of clerics gathered at the entrance. “Blood Freedom,” Sorr said. “They’re fading already. We need to act quickly.”
Activity exploded around Eli, Kier, and Dante. They were led in a large room that bore a striking resemblance to the one where the ritual to bring Dante back had taken place. There were even similar marble platforms, although the sculptures and symbols were somewhat different.
“Place your injured there,” one of the clerics said. Eli recognized him as one of the most preeminent members of the priesthood, Lenias.
“Quickly now,” Lenias commanded. “Every second counts.”
Dante threw Eli a look of uncertainty, but obeyed. He laid Valerian on one of the platforms, while Kier did the same with Aran. “Very good,” Lenias told them. “Now, I’m going to have to ask you to wait outside. This is going to be a very delicate process.”
It wasn’t unexpected, but Dante still looked like he wanted to protest. Eli took his mate’s hand and slowly pulled him out of the room. “Let’s allow them to do their jobs,” he whispered. “They’re good people. Since they’ve taken on this task, they’ll do their utmost to save your father and your brother.”
For a few moments, Dante just stared at Eli. Their gazes met and locked, and in Dante’s dark eyes, Eli saw so much heartbreak it crushed him. Following a sudden impulse, he stepped toward Dante and hugged his mate tightly. “It’s all right. It’s going to be all right. I promise you.”
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