He dragged her to her feet. Somehow, she found her strength and managed to run along with him. They ducked around a corner before the drakin spotted them, and made many winding turns, hoping to lose them. She pulled her hood over her face and kept her head down, lest any mishram or Favored spotted them.
“Wendyll…” she mumbled, still in shock. “Wendyll’s… He might still be alive. We have to go back.”
“Not with the drakin so close.”
“But he won’t have long.”
“Then I don’t think we can help.”
“If only I’d harvested that boy. Then we would have been able to fight back. I could have saved him.”
He tightened his hand around hers. “It isn’t your fault.”
“Yes, yes it is!” She stopped, her legs finally giving way. They were in a dark alley, away from sight. She doubted the drakin would find them here. She leaned against the wall and slumped down. “We jeopardized his safety. We knew we would and we did so anyway. He kindly took us in and we killed him.”
Jaerhel knelt at her side. “It isn’t your fault.”
“Stop saying that. You know it is.”
“All right. I won’t.”
She sobbed and met his gaze. They shared a moment of understanding. He was thinking about a spell she had told him a few days ago. He wanted her to use it.
Jaerhel said, “You have to do it, Constance. We can’t continue like this. It’s the only way to save Ayesrial. It’s how to prevent what happened to Wendyll from happening again.”
“I… But then I’d lose him. I won’t be Rayse’s mate anymore. I don’t know if I can ever change back.”
She’d found a costly black magic spell to rewrite her soul. It’d change how she looked, and even how she felt about things. She wasn’t certain who she’d be at the end of it. And since she’d no longer be herself, she would also cease to be her lover’s mate.
But it was the perfect solution. The Dragon Mother wouldn’t be able to harvest their bond, and Ayesrial would be freed from the goddess’s tyranny. Plus, it would save Rayse from going mad from the mating frenzy because their temporary bond had disappeared. It would also make it much easier to hide from the drakin and mishram. She would no longer be the most sought-after fugitive in Ayesrial.
“Even though you’d lose him, I’ll take care of you,” Jaerhel said, pulling her into an embrace.
“I can’t love you, Jaerhel. My heart belongs to him.”
She felt his arms tighten around her. “I can live with that.” The sincerity pouring from him dizzied her.
“You might have a mate out there,” she said.
“Until then, I’ll care for you.”
His words made her hate herself even more. She returned his embrace, but not as a lover. She saw him as an older brother. She could never have feelings for him that way. She didn’t deserve him, nor Wendyll. She should have killed herself. But doing that would leave Rayse’s soul still tied to her, and the unfinished mate bond would be the end of him.
She hugged Jaerhel and cried into his shoulder. She stained his shirt with tears. It was the only one he owned.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”
“About my shirt?” he said, trying to lighten the mood. “Don’t worry about it.”
She snorted a laugh, even though she knew she shouldn’t be laughing. “No, I mean, about having to stick with me… when I can’t… can’t return the feelings.”
Hurt flickered on his face, and then it was gone. “It’s okay. I can wait.”
“I might never, Jaerhel.”
“That’s fine, too.” He thumbed her tears away. “What do you need for that spell?”
“It’s black magic. I’ll need to harvest another person.”
“There’s someone nearby who might be close to death.”
Horror sliced through her. “No… No…”
“A necessary evil.” Jaerhel tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.
“I don’t want to do it.”
“Be strong, Constance. I’ll be here with you. Every step of the way.”
He helped her to her feet. The drakin should be gone by then. And Wendyll, or that boy—they should be ready for harvesting. Seeing those two people as simply a source of magic sent a shudder through her.
But she had to do it.
10
“She’s back,” Greta said.
She was standing at the entrance of Catrina’s new mansion. Rayse still couldn’t fathom that Greta was standing right here, in Ayesrial, in this hidden encampment.
“What do you mean?”
Greta placed her hands on her hips and looked at Rayse like he was stupid. “I mean, Constance is at the Grimfire mountains. She appeared yesterday.”
“Just like that?”
Greta snapped her fingers. “Skipped right up to the mountains, announcing herself and saying she wanted to see you. I’m not even sure how she got up.”
“That’s… Why didn’t she come back earlier?”
“You’ll have to ask her yourself. She isn’t being very open.”
None of this was making any sense. It couldn’t be this easy. Rayse had been looking for his mate for so long. She couldn’t just show up on his doorstep without any explanation. “How did you get here?” he asked.
Greta’s cheery expression fell. “I have my ways.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“Not at all. Though I must say, finding this place was a hell of a challenge. Every inn and bar in Ayesrial must know me by now.”
Rayse didn’t bother pressing her. The healer’s head was as hard to crack as a tortoise’s shell, and she was often a mystery. His thoughts drifted back to Constance. “You’re sure it’s her?”
“I’m old but I’m not senile. I saw her with my own eyes. She hasn’t aged a day in sixty years.”
His heart beat faster. Constance was back, and from the sounds of it, in one piece, despite what he’d done. “Then I have to go back.”
“That’s why I’m here, pumpkin, to tell you to.”
“I’ll have to let Catrina know.”
“That old woman who runs this place?”
“She’s not old. She’s the most—” He held his tongue before giving away his thoughts on Catrina. He didn’t want Greta to think that he was being unfaithful, especially since Constance was back.
But he was being two-faced that way, because his heart had betrayed him already. “Anyway, we’ll have to tell her. Do you have a plan to leave?”
“None, actually,” Greta said. “I thought I’d come here and figure out the rest as I go along.”
Rayse ran a hand over his face. “All right, I’ll warn her that there’s going to be one more person on the trip back, then. You shouldn’t have been so reckless. I’m not even sure if she has the power to send so many of us home.”
“I don’t mind staying behind.”
“I can’t possibly leave without you.”
“Sure you can. Just go. I’m not much to miss, anyway.”
He shot her a sad expression. “Of course you are.”
“Don’t get sappy on me, you big brute. Hurry and set the arrangements. Don’t you want to see your mate?”
He was supposed to be excited about seeing Constance, but instead, his insides were turning from dread. He’d just begun to build a new life here. Things were looking up, despite the dust and ever-looming gloom of Ayesrial. Because of his new-found acceptance, this place, filled with hollowed souls and dull hopes, seemed bright to him in comparison to the greens of Gaia.
He climbed up the stairs and made his way to Catrina’s room. He found Kien sitting at Catrina’s desk, reading through her ledgers. This room had already been filled with materials, despite it only existing for a short time. Dusty papers and books filled the place. There were critters in wooden cages at the side, too. It reminded Rayse of the study Constance used to have in Dragon Keep. This place almost felt like home.
“Where is she?” Rayse asked
.
Kien dropped his quill and leaned back into the crooked chair. “None of your business.”
“What’s with you? Catrina told me she sees you as a brother, and yet you’re acting as if you’re her mate.”
Kien’s shoulders stiffened. “And she doesn’t think anything of you, except you’re a nuisance that she needs to get rid of. You don’t know how your presence is hurting her.”
“Then enlighten me.”
Kien dropped his gaze to the table. “It’s not important.”
“If I’m not of any consequence, then why do I affect—”
“The sooner you leave, the better. Your being here is only trouble for everyone.”
Rayse glanced around. “This new building isn’t trouble, is it? And the men here are in better shape now. I think I’ve done a lot more than simply provide ‘trouble.’”
Kien snarled. “We could have managed without you.”
“Not as well, I don’t think.”
Rayse walked up to Kien, standing taller. Kien sized him up with a wary glance, then stood up, too. The blond was shorter by a couple inches, and Rayse’s more muscular build put Kien at a physical disadvantage.
“Give up on Catrina,” Rayse said. “She won’t ever belong to you.”
Kien growled. “Same thing for you. You’re some other woman’s man.”
Rayse knew he couldn’t argue with that, but he also knew that he wanted nothing more than to punch Kien in the face right then. The pretty man wouldn’t be so cocky with a broken jaw.
Kien apparently felt similar sentiments. Moments later, Rayse caught Kien’s fist, which would have crashed into his face had he been any slower. He twisted Kien’s hand and forced him into an arm lock.
Kien hissed discomfort. “Fuck you.”
“Where is she?”
“Down at the training grounds. She’s going through the logistics of how the warriors should handle themselves once you’re gone.”
Rayse pushed Kien from him and dusted his hands together. The blond stumbled forward before finding his balance.
“She’s not yours,” Kien said. “She can’t be.”
Rayse didn’t bother to acknowledge Kien before waltzing off.
He met Catrina before even reaching the training grounds. She was at the entrance of the mansion, staring intently at something. There were dragons outside, flying about, under Catrina’s barrier. He wondered how large the boundary was, and how much power Catrina needed to keep the magic sustained for so long. What would she do if, one day, she couldn’t find anyone she could justify harvesting from? Would the Dragon Mother rain terror on them?
Rayse halted beside her. “What are you looking at?”
He tracked her gaze before she answered. She was looking at Greta and Shen, who were having a conversation over plates of charred meat.
“She reminds me of someone I know,” Catrina said. She snapped out of her daze and directed her attention to him. “You want to leave, yes?”
“How did you know?”
“There can only be one reason why that old woman is here. She’s here to fetch you.”
Catrina had terribly good observational skills. “If you need me here, I can stay for longer.”
“Your work here is done, Alric.”
He remembered her calling him Rayse once, or was that a figment of his imagination?
“I thank you for the time and effort you’ve put into my operations,” Catrina said. “You must be homesick after spending so long here.”
“No, not really.”
“Even if your mate is waiting?”
“How did you—”
“I’ll have enough souls ready in three days. Make your arrangements. It’s more troublesome to bring an extra person back, but I think I can manage.”
“Catrina, I don’t have to leave so soon.”
“Be more considerate to Constance. She’s been waiting a long time.”
Remorse shot through him. Catrina was right. How could he be so selfish? It would be better once he saw Constance again. He’d remember how wonderful she was.
As Catrina strode away, he resisted the instinct to pull her close. His dragon was whining like a spoiled child inside. It wanted Catrina, but it needed Constance, too. It couldn’t decide.
Why was he feeling this way? He had been completely unconcerned about women since losing Constance, and no other had managed to stir his dragon, save for Catrina. He watched the sway of her hips as she moved, and tried to keep the indecent thoughts from him mind, to no avail.
Constance rolled her sack of beads in her hands. Renee, Eileen, and a few other women and men she could not get the names of lay in her palm. She tried to make it a point to remember the names of those she’d harvested, even if they were getting too many. Some names, she’d never find out. They hadn’t been able to speak when they got to her doorstep.
She was thankful for the new her—Catrina. The old Constance would never be able to handle the pain of having to kill so many people. The metamorphosis spell had hardened her soul. She was less feeling than her old self.
That didn’t mean she could forgive herself for the lives she’d taken. How many had she wasted already? Hundreds, probably. The names flickered through her mind, but they’d slip away eventually; her brain couldn’t contain so many. There was never a shortage of dying souls in Ayesrial, and she’d used that to her advantage, always convincing herself that it was for the better of others.
“You’re doing the right thing,” Jaerhel, now using Kien as a pseudonym, said from a few feet behind her.
“You don’t have to tell me that.”
“Are you ready?”
Not the least bit. She thought she’d lose her bond with Rayse forever, but now that he was close, her previous soul was trying to come back. Attempting to keep it away was ripping her apart from the inside. It hurt, physically. Still, Rayse was the love of her life, and even if his leaving would ease the physiological ache, emotionally, it’d tear her to shreds once more.
He was so close… It took everything in her to not reveal the truth. She kept herself focused on the lives she was responsible for. That made her just strong enough to deal with the pain.
“I’m ready,” she bluffed. Her breathing was irregular. “Come, Rayse is waiting downstairs.”
She pocketed her sack of soul beads and strolled to the exit. He was standing in the barren field, arms behind his back, wearing the stoic expression he often did. Others would find him intimidating, but the time she’d spent with him in their past had taught her to love that face.
He had barely aged, but his features held a gravity that hadn’t been there sixty years ago. Their separation hadn’t been kind to him. It hadn’t to her, either.
She resisted the urge to hug and kiss him. Her need for his touch would never be sated. She had to learn to accept that.
She stopped next to him, feeling small. He was at least two heads taller than her, and she had to strain her neck to look at his expression.
“It’s time,” she said. Constance could fake how uncaring she should be, but the pain wouldn’t stop aching in her.
“I wouldn’t leave you,” Rayse said, “if not for Constance…”
She withheld a reassuring smile. She wanted to comfort him but couldn’t, lest she destroy her facade. “You belong by her side.”
Greta stood next to Rayse, haughty and somewhat out of her mind, as she normally was. “I don’t know what the big talk about this Catrina is about.”
This time, Constance couldn’t stop from letting out a laugh. Her mentor was the same as ever. She’d missed them so incredibly much. A wave of emotions settled behind the dam she had constructed to keep herself level. Once they left, she’d let it all out.
But for now, she needed to maintain her composure.
Jaerhel’s fingers wrapped around her shoulders. “It’s about time you left,” he told Rayse.
“The only thing I’m not going to miss is that face of yours,” Rayse r
esponded.
“Ready?” Constance asked, gathering her magic. Her souls wove out of the beads. She whispered an apology in her heart. She always did whenever she used them.
Rayse stepped closer. “Not yet.”
She was about to mutter her spell, but he drew her into a kiss. Her eyes grew wide. The storm that was brewing in her threatened to explode. His lips were so soft, yet demanding. Her mind swirled with need and lust. The kiss drove her mad, unwinding her emotions, unraveling her insides.
“Get off her, you fucker.” Jaerhel shoved Rayse aside.
She wanted to tell Jaerhel to stop. She didn’t want her bliss to end. But Rayse was pushed to a foot away from her, and Catrina had to return.
“What… what was that?” she said. A cloud fogged over her mind. The soul of the old Constance thrashed in her, wanting to escape. She tightened her hold over her resolve. The pain crept back up, digging into her gut like a sharpened blade.
A smirk laced with chagrin tweaked the side of Rayse’s mouth up—the mouth she’d wanted to kiss for decades. “It’s how we say goodbye from the outside.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s not,” she said. She wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve. She shouldn’t have experienced the taste of him again. It would gradually kill her to know she’d never have it again. “Go back to Constance,” she said. But what she truly longed to say was, Come back to me.
That startled him from the pleased look that had washed over his face. “I should.”
“Yes.”
She couldn’t stop staring at his mouth. She licked her lips, then forced her gaze down. He was ruining her, all over again.
She steeled her resolve and took out the beads. Lifting her hand, she summoned her magic. It hurt so much each time she used it, more so every day. Perhaps it was affecting her life span. She told herself she didn’t care, but she was a coward in some ways—she didn’t want to die. Maybe that was the part of her which felt the most human.
She muttered the gateway spell, hoping the Mother didn’t get alerted. She’d sent many people away, but was never truly sure if the Dragon Mother would know. She cast a cloaking spell with it just in case every time, but the goddess was ageless, and had power Constance couldn’t assess by ordinary rules.
Fractured Souls (Soul of a Dragon Book 3) Page 9