by I. T. Lucas
“One moment he was alive and joyful, and the next he was lying dead on the ground. A six-year-old boy riding his first horse. The animal got spooked by a snake and reared up. My boy fell and broke his beautiful little neck. That’s the whole story. One horrible moment in time that changed everything.”
She’d been repressing her sorrow for so long that once released it erupted like the faulty lid of a pressure cooker—it hit the ceiling with a bang and whatever was cooking inside the pot followed—her guts, her blood, splattered, slowly dripping back down.
Dalhu held her while she cried, rocking her as she sobbed and screamed, “Why?”
“Why him?”
“Why me?”
It had taken a while until the sobs subsided. Dalhu had said nothing throughout her outburst, just waiting it out, caressing, rocking.
Smart man. There was nothing he could’ve said anyway.
“Thank you,” she hiccupped and he offered her a napkin to blow her nose into. “You’re a good listener.”
“Is there anything I can do?” he said hesitantly.
“No, you’ve been perfect. I had a good cry and now I’m better.” She managed a small smile. “I could use a margarita, but I don’t want to leave the shelter of your arms. I’ve never felt safer than I do when you hold me.”
Dalhu kissed the top of her head, then lifted her up and sat her down on the tiny stretch of bar counter that wasn’t occupied by appliances. “You hold on to me, and I’ll pour you a drink. I don’t think I can manage a margarita, though.”
She did, holding on tight and pressing her cheek to his solid chest. When he was done, he handed her the drink and carried her to the couch. Sitting down with her cradled in his lap, he held her gently while she sipped on the gin and tonic he’d made her.
“Better?” he asked.
“Much. But could you hold me for a little longer?”
“I would gladly hold you for the rest of my life.”
CHAPTER 49: KIAN
The oppressing silence in the Lexus was like a déjà vu of Kian’s previous visit to Micah.
Fuck, why the hell had he agreed to Amanda’s idea? This was cruel. They would be reopening Micah’s wounds. Hell, those had probably never healed and were still bleeding.
Their visit would bring on a hemorrhage.
So why was he sitting in his car and driving to Micah’s house?
Because he loved his sister.
He was one hell of a stubborn ox, so it had taken him longer than the others to realize the inconvenient truth. Fate had saddled Amanda with a despicable mate—not of her choosing—and she was powerless against the metaphysical forces conspiring against her.
Damn, I can’t believe I’m buying into all this supernatural crap.
He’d considered severing the connection forcefully, but to do so to one’s own sister was even more detestable than Amanda’s Doomer. If Dalhu were indeed her fated mate, and it seemed he was, then getting rid of him would’ve taken away Amanda’s one and only opportunity of a true love match.
It was rare to find your fated mate once; to find another was unheard of.
And besides, Kian had to admit that Dalhu had succeeded to chip away at his hatred one tiny shard at a time. The profiles the guy had compiled were as thorough and complete as he could make them, including the sketched portraits. And his love for Amanda was so glaringly obvious that even a stubborn skeptic like Kian was forced to acknowledge it.
But what really tipped the scales heavily in Dalhu’s favor was his willingness to submit to whatever punishment imaginable for a chance of redemption. Grudgingly, Kian admired the guy’s courage and determination.
He deserved a chance, if only for Amanda’s sake.
Kian cast a sidelong glance at his sister. Sitting in the passenger seat, Amanda hadn’t uttered a word since they’d left the keep, but the scents of guilt and fear were doing the talking for her. He laid a hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“It’s going to be tough, I’m not going to sugarcoat it, but we’ll get through it together.”
She turned to him, a small pitiful smile tugging at her lips. “Thank you, you don’t know how much I appreciate that you’re doing this for me.”
“You’re welcome.”
From the back seat, Anandur sniffled audibly. “I’m so happy that you guys are no longer at each other’s throats. Albeit entertaining, it was breaking my poor heart.”
Brundar grunted, expressing his opinion that the comment didn’t deserve a response.
A few minutes later they arrived at Micah’s modest suburban house, and Kian eased the SUV into a spot a little further down the street.
Leaving the three of them down on the walkway, Amanda climbed the two steps leading to the front door and knocked.
Otto, Micah’s brother, opened the door. “Come in.” He motioned for them to go ahead.
Mark’s mother was sitting on a couch with an expression as hard as stone. Damn, this was going to be even more difficult than Kian had anticipated.
“Thank you for agreeing to see us.” Amanda walked over and gave Micaa a quick hug.
Micaa didn’t return it. “Please, sit down,” she offered in a dead voice.
Fuck, this isn’t going to work.
“Thank you,” he said and took a seat in one of the armchairs. Brundar and Anandur joined Otto at the dining table.
Amanda sat next to Micah, her knees and torso turned sideways so she was looking straight at the woman.
Brave move.
“I know Kian already explained over the phone the purpose of our visit, but I would like to elaborate.”
“Be my guest,” Micah said, in a tone that suggested that her mind had already been made up, and her decision wasn’t the one they were hoping for.
“I know that you don’t want to hear what I came here to say, and that nothing could ever make up for your loss, but I beg of you to hear me out.”
Micah seemed to soften a little, her rigid pose loosening. She slumped back into the couch. “Go ahead.”
For a split second, Amanda’s eyes fluttered closed in relief. “Thank you.” She took Micah’s hand.
“First, I need to tell you why this is so important to me. I’m not an impartial observer, and I didn’t come here as a council member or in any other official capacity. I’m here as a woman seeking a chance of redemption for her mate.”
Micah’s gasp meant that the rumors hadn’t reached her yet. “How can a Doomer be your mate?”
“I know, hard to believe. It took me a long while to accept it.” Amanda smiled a sad smile. “The fates work in mysterious ways. We can huff and we can puff, but in the end we have no choice but to accept whatever they decree for us.”
Micah sighed. “I guess you’re right, and I feel sorry for you, but I won’t pretend that I don’t want that Doomer dead—because I do.”
Amanda crossed her legs and licked her lips.
A long speech was coming.
“Let me lay out the facts. We don’t execute prisoners. The worst punishment we have is entombment, and it is reserved for premeditated murder, which isn’t the case here. Mark’s actual killer is already entombed in our crypt as a result of a skirmish between his unit and the Guardians. Therefore, you were denied the satisfaction of witnessing his punishment—unless, you want us to revive him only to have him entombed again, which I doubt Annani would allow.”
Micah harrumphed. “I’m not that bloodthirsty.”
“I know, I was just stating the obvious. What I’m trying to say is that Dalhu’s involvement was not direct. When he gave the order, he had no idea that Mark was one of us. Though I can’t say that it would’ve made a difference. But in any case, I’m not suggesting that he is not to blame. He was a member of the Brotherhood and was expected to deliver their loathsome vengeance. Everything changed for him when he met me. He has forsaken the Brotherhood, sworn alliance to the clan, and is providing us with invaluable information about Navuh’s operation. And for be
tter or worse, he is my mate.”
Micah’s gaze cut to Kian, and he nodded, affirming Amanda’s statements.
“He wants to become one of us, but he will never be accepted unless he is redeemed in the eyes of the clan.”
Micah shrugged as if to say—what do I care.
“Please understand, I know that no matter what punishment he’ll endure, his pain will never match yours. Nothing ever will.” Amanda choked up a little, and this time, it was Micah who squeezed her hand to provide comfort.
“But at least you’ll get the satisfaction that you’ve exacted some measure of vengeance. When I lost my son, I felt like my rage was powerful enough to destroy the world, but I had no one to blame, no one to punish, so I turned on myself. You have a chance to do something—to see someone punished and in the process give him the gift of redemption.”
This must’ve been the most difficult speech Amanda had ever delivered. For her to talk about her son was like plunging a knife into her own heart and twisting.
Silence stretched across the room as Micah pondered Amanda’s words, the seconds ticking off one by one like on a game show.
“I want him entombed.”
Amanda’s shoulders sagged in resignation. Even Kian felt an unexpected twinge of disappointment.
But Micah wasn’t done. “For a week, and then you can revive him. I want him to experience dying. But before that, I want him flogged, and I want Otto to be the one wielding the whip.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t look at me with these accusing eyes. Because he’ll be injured, I’ll allow for a venom-induced stasis instead of the agonizingly slow loss of consciousness in the tomb. That’s the best I can offer, and I’m doing it mainly for you. It’s obvious that you feel for that male, and I know you well enough to realize that if you believe him worthy of redemption then he must be. But I want him to earn it with a meaningful sacrifice and not a token one.”
“Thank you.” Amanda pulled Micah into a hug and held on. “You’re doing the right thing.” She managed only a whisper.
CHAPTER 50: AMANDA
What have I done?
That sentence had been going on a loop in Amanda’s head all the way home. She might have signed Dalhu’s death warrant. Entombment was horrible, but it was pretty safe. Venom-induced stasis wasn’t. It had to be done with extreme precision. If not halted at the right moment, Dalhu’s heart would be stopped for good.
She turned around to face Anandur. “I want you to do it.” He was the most friendly with Dalhu—seemingly the only Guardian who didn’t harbor ill feelings toward him.
“No problem, Princess, your frog is safe with me.” He chuckled. “And when he awakens seven days later, you’ll kiss him and he’ll turn into a prince. Here, I just invented a new fairy tale.”
Leave it to Anandur to make fun of the most grievous of situations. “It’s not funny.”
“Don’t worry. Dalhu is a resilient fellow, and he’ll not only make it but come out stronger on the other side. Micah’s trial is perfect for what he needs. Not too severe, but not too easy either. He’ll gain respect by submitting to it and enduring it honorably.” Looking satisfied, Anandur crossed his massive arms over his chest.
Men had such a different outlook on things. She still remembered the games boys had used to play when she was a teenager—like who could withstand the most punches to the stomach, or to the shoulder. Or wrestling in the dirt, beating the crap out of each other, and calling it fun.
Idiots.
But when she’d told Dalhu the news, it turned out that Anandur had been right on the money.
“That’s great!” was his response.
Really?
The guy was happy about a whipping and an entombment and called it freaking great?
Fates, she felt like shaking Dalhu. What was wrong with him?
Not that it would’ve made a difference if he didn’t like the result of her ill-advised meeting with Micah. The verdict was irreversible. Once decreed, Micah’s decision was obligatory.
“Why the angry face?”
“This was a mistake, my mistake. Nothing is worth even the slim chance of you dying.”
He took her into his arms. “Of course, it is, my beauty, this is exactly what I’ve been hoping for, and I have no intention of dying. I’m going to be fine.”
“How can you say it? Venom-induced stasis is extremely dangerous. The tiniest of miscalculations and your heart might stop beating for good. I will never forgive myself if that happens. Oh, sweet fates, how could I’ve painted us into this corner?” Her mascara-tinted tears were making a mess of his shirt.
“Sweetheart, you’re just overreacting.”
No, he didn’t just say it. Overreacting? The condescending, chauvinistic male.
She pushed, and he let her leave the shelter of his embrace.
Pointing a finger at his chest, she lashed out at him, “Just because I’m a female, you automatically assume that I’m overreacting? That I’m hysterical? Does your life mean nothing to you?”
With a tilt of his head and an expression of a dog that didn’t understand why his owner was shouting at him, Dalhu reached for her again, but she swatted his hand away. He dipped his head and wiped the back of his neck with his hand.
After a moment, he lifted his head, his big soulful eyes bathing her with so much love that she almost staggered. “Did it ever happen? Do you know of a precedent—an incident of a Guardian miscalculating and killing someone he was supposed to put into stasis?”
Did she?
Amanda shrugged. “Well, no. But I don’t think the Guardians would’ve advertised it.”
“Why don’t you call and ask?”
She was ready to argue when it occurred to her that he was right. “That’s actually not a bad idea,” she mumbled.
Dalhu released a relieved breath and crossed the living room to the bar. The entire two steps. “Would you like a drink?”
“Yeah, the one you made me this morning was good,” she said while her fingers flew over the phone’s screen, composing a text to Anandur. On second thoughts, she copied it and sent it to Kian as well. Anandur was a great guy, but he might be inclined to twist the truth for her sake. Her brother would tell it exactly as it was.
Anandur reply was–No, stop obsessing!
Kian’s was—Not recently.
Not great, but better than she’d expected.
“The good news is that no one died of it recently, the bad news is that it happened in the past.”
Dalhu handed her the drink. “When is it going to take place? And where?”
Amanda plopped down on the couch and took a few sips. “Three days from now, in the evening. I don’t know exactly where but probably somewhere in the basement, maybe the gym or perhaps the catacombs.”
“Why wait?” Dalhu frowned and sat next to her, holding a tall tumbler that was filled to the brim with whiskey. “I would rather have it over and done with as soon as possible.”
“That’s what I said. But Anandur said it is customary to wait three days to allow for the announcement to reach whoever wants to witness it.”
Dalhu nodded. “That makes sense.”
“It does, right? But he later confessed to me that he pulled it out of his ass. He plans a surprise bachelor party for Kian and wants you to be there—since you’re going to miss the wedding.”
Dalhu snorted. “As if Kian would’ve invited me to his wedding.”
“If we had more time, or if Micah hadn’t demanded seven days, he would’ve. After you’re considered redeemed, you will become part of the clan, maybe not a fully trusted member—yet—but certainly one who is invited to a clan-wide celebration like this.”
“Then I’m double glad for Micah’s demands. Attending a wedding with your entire clan present would’ve been a nightmare for me.”
“You’re being silly. Typical macho male—enthusiastic about enduring torture and proving his machismo but terrified of social interactions.”
&nb
sp; Dalhu laughed, a deep belly laugh that didn’t really belong in the context of their conversation. Was it his way of dealing with fear?
“You got me there. I don’t know if it has anything to do with being a male, though. I think it has more to do with what is familiar and what is not. Torture and excruciating tests of courage, those I’m well acquainted with, I know I can handle anything anyone throws at me. Celebrations? Acting all polite and pretending that I’m smart? Worldly? I have no clue how to pull it off, and it scares the crap out of me.”
Amanda had never considered that Dalhu might be insecure about his lack of education, or his somewhat crude manners. She had no problem with either. In addition to loving her with everything he’d got, Dalhu was smart and treated her with respect—everything else was inconsequential. Evidently, though, not for him.
“Make room.” She motioned to his lap and then promptly positioned herself in the space he’d made. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she gazed into his lovely chocolate eyes. “You are smart, and worldly, never doubt this. However, I understand where you’re coming from, and I’m going to help you. You’ve got yourself a very accomplished professor here, one who will have you sounding like a scholar in no time.” She kissed his smiling lips.
“How about we start with you schooling me in the erotic arts?”
She smiled. “Your enthusiasm for furthering your education is admirable. Take me to bed, big boy.”
CHAPTER 51: SYSSI
“You sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Kian asked again. He’d looked a little hurt when she’d told him that only Andrew would be coming with her to pick up her parents from the clan’s private airstrip.
The reason wasn’t that she didn’t want Kian to be there, but because she didn’t want to show up with his bodyguards in tow. Better introduce her parents to this strange world in stages, and certainly not right upon their arrival.
“If you can ditch Anandur and Brundar, you’re welcome to accompany me.”
“I can’t.”
“How about just one? We could take the limo and Anandur could pretend to be the driver.”