by Trisha Wolfe
I know I saved her life—and she saved me right back—and that should be enough. But I’m haunted by what Kal’s lost in spite of it. She’s much stronger now, more powerful, though I believe terrified to test the full extent of her power, but she’s also more despondent. Especially when anyone broaches the subject. She needs time to heal and…adjust. That’s all.
For now, I’m choosing to put it behind me. Focus on what we have to accomplish. Which is more than any magics or supernatural powers can establish. Unfortunately.
“Gorgeous, yes. And at least it’s big enough, don’t you think?” Lena says, plopping down beside Lilly. Lena, on the other hand, has no reservations about reminding me how mad I still come across at times.
I smile wanly in her direction. In a matter of days, I’ve watched Lena and Kal’s interactions. I know something is wrong there, but I haven’t probed. I trust Kal to tell me when she’s ready.
Pressing my back into the cushion, I say, “I had somewhat of a complex in my younger years.” I shrug, and Lilly’s eyes go wide. “Not that kind of complex. Not a size issue…a father issue. Needing to assert my right to rule over something massive where I didn’t have any say in his kingdom.”
Both of them nod hesitantly, and I release a heavy breath. Women. I’m cursed to be surrounded by them, my only male accomplice who could get me out of the many fixes I find myself in is Bax. And he doesn’t count. He’s as likely to side with them over me.
Oh, and there’s Kaide. But I haven’t been able to speak with him much. He’s a loner. You’d think after our time spent together in the Cage we’d have formed somewhat of a kinship. But he seems a very devoted individual, only concerned about Kal’s wellbeing and finding his place in our new circumstance, where he’s no longer a member of an elite faction.
We’re traitors. Looked down upon and considered lower than the Otherworlders. They, according to both my and Kal’s countries, didn’t have a choice in their allegiance. But we did. And we chose to retaliate against direct orders that would have sentenced Kal to her death.
I’m including myself among the Nactue and Bax here, because even if I hadn’t been possessed by a deranged goddess, I’d have been right alongside them. Also, I’m eternally grateful for their disobedience. They saved my mother’s life. To which, someday, I will find a way to restore each of their reputations among their queen and country.
Only I first have to do the same for myself in order to see that goal through.
Until then, the least I can do is offer my home as a means of refuge for them.
Luckily, the only people who know of its isolated location that may pose a threat are Councilor Teagan, who tracked my haphazard trail through the forest—which at the time, was done so purposely to lead Kal to me—and Lake, who covered my haphazard trail, protecting its whereabouts, and who is now an integral part of our new mission.
Both of them are, astonishingly, members of our unique group of traitors. Most of my select detail of Otherworlders who I stationed here lost their lives during the final battle. The ones who survived were taken prisoner. We saw their capture as we darted past the time-altered scene out of the Otherworld.
Kal managed to wipe the Otherworlders’ minds of this place as we escaped. Claiming, their weak-mindedness made it simple enough. She’s even cloaked my treehouse so that Bale can’t easily locate it. And she states: all of these things are not a difficult feat. Not for her. Not now.
Again, I can’t comprehend how powerful she’s become. I wonder if the goddesses purposely restrained the power with that cybernetic clamp—if they never intended for it to be removed. But trying to understand why the goddesses do or don’t do anything is infuriatingly pointless.
I believe we’re better off far away from their influence.
Removing my injured leg from its aching position on the table, I try to get comfortable on the couch, wishing Lake were here to bring me a pillow—
I immediately stop my brain from heading in that direction. Some residual thoughts are still present—I think that’s to be expected—but I’ve done well to push most from my mind. Though I do truly miss Lake.
I admit, had anyone told me I’d befriend an Otherworlder during a bout of possession by the moon goddess of legend…I’d have decked them in the mouth. Then laughed. But Lake has become just that. Admitting his servitude to Bale ended the moment she left my being, he chose to keep serving me instead. He said he admired my will, and I told him I didn’t want his servitude, but friendship.
I know. How sentimental I’ve become. Only it’s the truth. I fear I will never be much of a leader—hardly a king—unable to lead anyone.
My thoughts drift away as the others enter the common room of the treehouse. Kaide, still wearing his Nactue uniform—only designed for a male; how strange. Whip, her leather circlet in place around her head, just like in the Cage. I shake my head.
Following them, Bax and Kal.
My heart stutters in my chest. No amount of time with her will ever make me immune to her consuming presence. And I sincerely hope not, because how could I ever fully recover my feelings for that woman? I owe her…everything.
She sits next to me, sliding her fingers through mine, her thumb caressing my ring, and it’s still such an odd sensation. The Nactue leader, the woman who could barely speak of her feelings, more than touch a man—other than to inflict pain on him—outright professing them in front of others. Openly displaying us.
I’ve come to know a different Kal over the past days. She’s still the stubborn, willful, completely insufferable idealist—but she’s also so vulnerable it startles me. She’s someone who doesn’t question her love for me. Who doesn’t try to downplay her emotions, claiming they’re due to our near death experiences. Something I assumed she’d do.
I’m not sure if it’s the newness of it all, or the extreme circumstance we’ve found ourselves in—I just don’t know. But we’re managing to accept each other. I only wish I could meet her expectations. Where I was once the cocky prince pushing her to give her affections over, I’m now the one pulling away.
Not completely, not for fear of commitment—I’m simply unable to look into her eyes without the deepest regret eating me alive. What I did to her… Even now, I want to disappear; shame at my thoughts and actions rising up like a solid plate of glass between us. The truth is: I can never fully trust myself around her again.
“Are you feeling better?” she asks, giving my hand a pump and then holding it tighter. Preventing me from releasing it, how I usually do before long. Again, I want to punch myself. Or maybe she should just go ahead and punch me one good time. I almost miss that about her.
But she sacrificed everything for me. And how do I repay her? With hesitancy.
Trying, I close both my hands around hers, bringing her closer. “Just needed to get off my leg for a while.” I smile, hoping I sound sincere. But the flash of uncertainty in her jade eyes reveals her concern, and her doubt.
“I wish you’d allow me to heal you,” she says.
She knows I won’t, though. I’ve already told her I can bear the pain; it’s only a torn tendon—though what I won’t voice is that I feel I deserve this pain and much more.
Bax taking his place at the head of the room draws her attention, and I release a pent-up breath. Someday soon, I’ll need to address my issues. I hate that she must feel my distance. I want so badly to explain it has nothing to do with her—it’s all my bullshit.
“Where’s Teagan?” he asks.
Kai enters the den and says, “I just took her to her room. Though I feel really…strange locking up one of our Council members.” She moves to sit next to Lilly.
“Former Council member,” Bax corrects. “She can’t be trusted. So until we figure out just what to do with her, best to keep her out of the know.” He clears his throat and presses his silver-ringed brows together. “I received a missive today from Lake. He’s made it into the compound.” His narrowed gaze travels over us, allowing t
his news to settle in. “From here on, we’ll have little communication with him. It would be too dangerous if he’s caught. For us all. We have to trust he’ll get us word when, and only if, Bale decides to spring her followers.”
“You know she will,” Lena cuts in. Her eyes widen as she glances between Kal and Bax. “Once she’s taken out the rulers of the Three Realms, I mean. She owes her underlings a debt, right?”
Bax huffs. “I doubt you can rely on the dark goddess to follow through with her promises.”
I feel Kal tense next to me. “She’ll see some of them through,” she says, and the room stills at her softly spoken yet assured words.
“Only those that serve her, my friend,” Bax says. Their gazes meet briefly, and something of an understanding passes between them. I tighten my hold on her hand, trying to offer reassurance. I feel I’m failing miserably.
Kal returns the pressure on my hand, and says, “Was Lake able to discover anything about Empress Iana and Julian’s efforts? Any idea as to what their plan of attack will be?”
Bax shakes his head. “Unfortunately, our new informant wasn’t able to get close enough during his capture. He maintains he was taken directly to the compound with the imprisoned Otherworlders—” Bax halts suddenly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a letter. He skims it, then, “He did mention passing through the Perinyian Court. Giant walls have been erected, the people being brought inside the perimeter. I assume, then, their only tactic at this point is defense.”
This makes sense. After the number of losses both countries suffered during the war, it will take time to rebuild their forces. Only, Bale is unlikely to allow them that time to do so. From what I recall during the possession, Bale was anxious to exact her revenge on the world. On the people who worship the sisters who banished her.
Which doesn’t make sense why we’re still sitting here. Alive. Why the leaders still live, and countries remain intact. “What is she waiting for?” I hear myself say aloud before I’m able to clamp my mouth shut.
“Possibly recovering?” Kaide offers. “Kal was able to hurt her.”
Kal releases a clipped breath. “The little damage I inflicted… No. She healed quickly.” She bows her head, her long dark hair falling around her face to conceal it. I almost reach out to brush it aside, but clench the hand not linked with hers into a fist.
I feel the stare of every person in the room. I spent months with the moon goddess trapped inside me. They’re right; I should have some kind of answer as to what her next move will be—but would it help?
Releasing Kal’s hand to wrap my arm around her, I pull her against my side. Make sure I’m giving her some kind of comfort for my next admission. “She likes…games,” I say. I hear Kal’s breath grow shallow. “I believe she’s waiting until we present a great enough challenge for her. Something she can delight in destroying even further. For her, there would be little enjoyment in conquering too easily.”
While the others ponder this, I glimpse the silent woman beside me. And all I want to do is drop to my knees before her and beg her forgiveness for the hundredth time.
“This is nonsense,” Lena says, and all attention is directed toward her. “Kal is the damn goddesses’ weapon. Why haven’t the empress and the Councils come crawling back to her, pleading for her help?”
“That’s not how it works,” Lilly says, placing her hand on her lover’s thigh. “Rulers don’t request, and they certainly don’t beg—they take. And besides, Kal was their weapon. She’s not now.”
“That’s right,” Kal says. “I was only designed to be Bale’s vessel. To reunite the lost part of herself and make her whole again. I’m not much of a threat to her otherwise.”
Something distant…a thought or memory…pulls at the corners of my mind. “Wait,” I say. As I try to uncover it, the headache I’d just rid myself of comes back full force. I pinch my eyes closed and mutter a curse under my breath.
Kal’s warm palm touches my chest. “You don’t have to—”
“I do,” I say forcibly. Because this is my penance. For all the horror I helped Bale unleash, I must suffer some. I have to offer something, anything that will help us. Just maybe. “She didn’t just fear Kal while she was incorporeal. She wanted Kal destroyed permanently, after the fact.” I look up at them. “She believed Kal would continue to threaten her…somehow. It’s the last thing I can recall.”
I hadn’t noticed during the throbbing pain splintering my head, but Kal removed her hand from me. There’s now a space between us on the couch. I realize how my words have hurt her. It wasn’t only Bale who desired Kal’s death—it was me. Though Bale twisted my feelings for the woman I love into an obsessive need to be eliminated, I’m the one who delivered those threats to Kal. I’m the one who wounded her. Over and over…
My mouth parts to say something, but Kal turns her full attention on Bax, not me, when she says, “She only loathes the reminder of her humanity, despises it. She doesn’t fear me now. She admitted as much.”
A lump lodges in my throat. I wish it would choke me.
I’m not sure if Kal truly believes her words, or if she’s simply afraid to go up against Bale again—something no one would fault her for—but she’s lost her fire. That once clear belief in herself that made her burn brighter than any star or moon has dimmed.
“Kal…” Lilly begins.
“I should check on Aurelia,” Kal says, pretending not to hear her friend’s afflicted tone. “Fill me in on whatever plan we decide on.” Then she bounds from her seat and leaves.
The den becomes so quiet, I can hear the crash of the waves against the shore far below.
I’m torn. One side of me demanding I man up and go after her, the other deciding she needs space. I know her volatile nature, and how she gathers strength from solitude—what true comfort would I be? Then I berate my damn, dumb self and I’m rising from the couch when Lena’s voice stops me cold.
“Choice words, Prince,” she says, shooting me a glare that could flay me.
“Lena, it’s not his fault,” Lilly says. I appreciate her offering to stand in my defense, but she’s wrong.
It is my fault. It’s me. I’m still wrong.
♦ 33 ♦
Kaliope
RUNNING A BRUSH THROUGH Aurelia’s silver hair, I hum the song my mother used to sing to me when I was sick. She’d sing so low I’d have to scoot close to hear her, because like I revealed to Caben long ago, my father got angry when she disturbed him.
But I hum it audibly now, though I’m a poor substitute for my mother, before her lung disease took her singing voice. Caben’s mother seems to relax when I do.
“She seems calmer now.”
I turn to see Lilly lingering near the open door. Pressing my lips into a tight smile, I nod. “She knows her son’s well. I’m sure most of her anxiety before was fear for him.”
Lilly enters the room, walking slowly toward me. “I’m sure that’s it.” She pauses near my side. Tilts her head. “And how is your anxiety fairing over it all?”
I shrug. I can’t really lie to Lilly. She sees right through me. “Now that the dust has literally settled? I’m not sure. Relieved, most days. On edge others, anticipating some residual side effect to surface.” I sigh. “And then there’s everything else. Which makes me feel selfish for even taking the time to consider my and Caben’s…whatever. The impending doom that Bale is going to bring on everyone when she feels so inclined to resurface.”
Lilly takes my hand, removing the brush so she can link her fingers with mine. “You truly don’t feel you hurt her at all?”
I shrug. “Some. Probably not enough. The closest I can figure…I think I made her feel.” I look into Lilly’s amber eyes, watch as comprehension brightens them. “The part of her I carry, when I destroyed the clamp? I had so much…” I shake my head. “It’s hard to explain. Like every emotion ever imparted to humanity struck me all at once. It was overwhelming. I’m sure I transferred at least some of that
to Bale when I bled on her.”
Lilly releases my hand to wrap her arms around me, and I hug her tightly in response. Needing and for once, accepting, offered security. “You think that’s why she stripped herself of it? I mean, that part of herself. Maybe it was too much. Even for a goddess.”
Disentangling myself from her, I say, “It’s sometimes unnerving how closely our thoughts coincide.” Her lips twitch into a soft smile. And I’m glad we’ve been able to move past our argument about her relationship with Lena—though I’m still watching that closely.
“I have considered that,” I say. “But she’s a goddess. She’s all-powerful and above comprehension. How can she be limited in any fashion? Incapable of anything?”
Her brows pull together. “I don’t know. For all our knowledge on the goddesses we worship, there’s still so little known about them.”
I agree. “Something’s missing. And it’s a big something. I feel it’s the part that will unveil Bale’s possible weakness, maybe.” And what I can’t tell her further? That I empathize with a goddess bent on mayhem and obliteration—that if I had to carry the full dose of those overpowering emotions all the time…I’d have torn it from my bleeding soul also?
I’m relieved I only felt it for a moment. Though, I’ll never be the same for it.
“You’ll pull through this,” she says. “And we will figure it out. You just need some time to acclimate.”
“Yes, as I’ve never been one to handle the feeling part well. Makes sense I’d blow up into a giant ball of fury and attack a mad goddess.”
“Absolutely.” Her smile takes over her face. She nods her head toward the door. “I believe Caben’s guilt is what’s preventing his full return, if you will, into his old self.”
Smiling, I give my friend a quick nod. Unable to agree vocally, I understand what she’s trying to tell me. “I trust time to mend that, too.”
Then, before I lose my nerve, I blurt, “Is your goddess bond with the empress still strong?”
Her forehead creases. “As ever,” she says. “Why?”