Shattered (Mists of the Fae Book 9)

by Jaime Marks

  Cymeryn sighed rubbing his chin. “If it helps your decision, the concession I require is for you to pick your sire and bind yourself to them so I will know that your awakening will be attended. The only Fae that I believe will be able to awaken you are one of the three of us or mine twin. I will give you time to consider it while we first see to Narysia.”

  Byryn watched in shock as he walked across the hall to their study. He just expected one of them to bind to Wytheryn without even a discussion about it? Then again he was Byryn’s brother which meant neither Kyle nor he would deny him. He’d already decided he would awaken Wytheryn. He studied him a moment but he hadn’t risen to his feet yet. It seemed like he was fighting something.

  Kyle looked up at him. “It’s the penance for his betrayal. Revealing Alayne’s secrets is painful for his…chosen,” he explained, but the word slaves slipped through the periphery of his mind. “It’s like a chemical reaction in his blood. It’ll pass in a moment.”

  Wytheryn’s breathing seemed to slow as he spoke to him. Slowly he rose up on his knees, seeming to take a meditative stance as he breathed deeply. Kyle stood behind him holding his shoulders as he flooded him with his essence. Why it relaxed him so easily he had no idea, but it had something to do with how Alayne treated his slaves and the trace of his line that remained in Kyle’s blood. His gemyn had known the second he saw the scars on Wytheryn’s back. It was why he was treating him so differently.

  Cymeryn and Sanytia approached and Wytheryn’s eyes opened sensing them. He rose to his feet, bowing at the waist and led the Healer into the room. Byryn watched them go before turning to Kyle.

  “Can he handle this right now?”

  “Yeah, he’s just going to be exhausted later but, then I’d assume she will as well.” He shrugged. “If the Healer can’t heal the scars they carved into her we should attempt it. We all feel the trace of Lunyan essence in his blood. I’m not saying Narysia and he are definitely Sacred Borne, but we can’t discount the potential for it.”

  Byryn sighed and nodded. “If he is we have our work cut out for us. His concessions are forced. We haven’t earned his trust fully, but he knows he needs our protection and assistance. Can we even trust what he told us?”

  Kyle nodded. “His pain was genuine. As one of Alayne’s favored, Wytheryn would have overheard many things that make him dangerous to the Priests. To ensure his loyalty Alayne would’ve forced him to endure a…binding ritual of sorts. It’s an infusion of his blood that allows him to know when he’s been betrayed and punishes those he’s bound.”

  “You did not suffer that reaction when you confessed to me,” Cymeryn noted.

  “I was never bound in that way.” Kyle shrugged again in dismissal. “I’m of his line. Our obedience was enforced through severe discipline.” He grimaced looking to the door. “That wouldn’t have been enough for Wytheryn because he was exposed to extreme depravity and pain, conditioned to endure and enjoy the abuse regularly, and he likely knows more than anyone. Alayne’s favorites rarely last more than a few years, but if Dad’s right; and based on Wytheryn’s reactions, things I’ve seen in him, and how he reacts to my praise and favor, I’d say he probably is. He’s been under Alayne’s thumb his entire life. The things he’s endured would negate the ability to control him with discipline.”

  Byryn grimaced at the images that Kyle accidently let flow once more through his mind. He met his eyes in apology. “It’s fine. You can’t stop thinking and the link prevents you from blocking it.” He shrugged.

  Cymeryn looked between them but nodded his understanding before he spoke, “Can the boy be trusted? You make it sound as though Alayne has complete control over him.”

  “It doesn’t work like that. The bond makes it so he can track him down anywhere, despite the lack of a blood connection, and it punishes him for going against his will; but it only works on Commands he’s already been given and direct acts of betrayal. Actions such as attacking him in any physical manner, or betraying secrets that could lead to his fall result in immediate penance without Alayne even having to know, though there’s always the risk he’ll sense it if the betrayal is large enough,” Kyle explained. “If Wytheryn pushes it too far, it would threaten his life. If Alayne senses it, he could use the connection to torture or even kill him, but his will is technically his own. That bond is dangerous, and it definitely needs to be broken, but it’s more of a threat to Wytheryn. He has the ability to choose to disobey, even if Alayne were standing right in front of him, but doing so continually or in the wrong situation will kill him.”

  Cymeryn glanced at his watch. “It will be a long day,” he grumbled before refocusing on the situation at hand. “Will binding him to one of us be enough to grant him relief, to protect him?”

  “Yes,” Kyle replied simply, “but he can’t bond to me directly and I doubt I can awaken him. I’d have to do some research, but despite how diluted it is now, Alayne’s blood is still in my veins. It could risk strengthening their bond. It could also be a trigger for him to be that…close to me.”

  “What about me?” Byryn requested. “We’re closely linked. I’ve taken your life’s blood. Will it affect him?”

  “No. You’re not of Alayne’s line and I can’t sense that essence in you like I can even in Wytheryn. He doesn’t either, or he’d relax around you and hear you out. He wouldn’t react to me so easily if he didn’t sense it in me.”

  Byryn thought through all the implications as he leaned against the wall. It had been a while since the Healer had gone in and he hated that his sunshine had been hurt so badly. He should’ve moved her up to the Familial Lines Corridor the moment he realized she was likely his brother’s mate. It was arrogant and stupid to think he could keep her under the radar when she was openly pursuing him.

  He also hated the picture that had been painted of what Wytheryn had lived through. He felt obligated to reach him in some way, despite how his existence felt like a betrayal. It was stupid really and had nothing to do with Wytheryn. He was pissed as hell with Trevyn for never telling him, especially knowing that there was a possibility the Priests held him, but the Shade was dead and there was nowhere to direct his rage.

  It was more than that though. Everything with his brother was a contradiction for him. His existence, his actions, it all pissed him off and yet wasn’t really his fault. Wytheryn had been involved in Staryana’s abduction, but he’d apparently been raised by and made a slave to the High Priest. He couldn’t hold that against him, especially not if he wanted to grant him Redemption. He couldn’t hold it against him regardless. His brother didn’t even know them. He ran a hand roughly through his hair and studied Kyle.

  “Would binding him to me give him access to our links?” He requested, knowing he had to protect his baby girl and eria first and foremost.

  Kyle shook his head. “No, honestly the only thing it will give Wytheryn is freedom from Alayne and a need to feel closer and more connected to you. He won’t have any access to anything unless you grant it directly, but it’ll give you access to his mind in some ways. It won’t be anything like what we share, but it will be far more than you have with the rest of your brethren, or even what you would have with other progeny if you awakened any.”

  “And how do you feel about it?” He asked studying him. “We agreed. No more blood bonds.” If Wytheryn was going to feel a need to be closer to him he didn’t want Kyle struggling or feeling possessive. He knew how he’d reacted to Pravyous and he wasn’t really sure, considering what his brother had likely been to Alayne, what he’d expect from him.

  His gemyn smirked as he stepped closer, caging him against the wall. “This is different, Byryn. It’s your brother and he’s been through enough. I wouldn’t deny you the right to save him and he won’t be bound to all of us. He won’t even be bound to you in this way…gemyn.”

  That devilish smile almost did him in. He was lucky his Father was standing right there or Byryn would definitely flip him and pay him back for his ta
unting. It drove him nuts to have Kyle this close and not be able to touch him the way he wanted. They’d been getting closer but still skirting right at the edge. The intimacy they shared was so comfortable and denying it even slightly bothered him. He hated hiding this, but he knew Kyle wasn’t ready and they had no idea how the others would react.

  “You’re sure?” He demanded. When he nodded Byryn pulled him into a tight embrace. “Thank you.” He breathed in his ear and kissed his temple, though he blocked it from Cymeryn’s view.

  Kyle smiled knowingly and stepped back, allowing him to regain his composure. “Always, Byryn,” he reassured him, referring to the promises they’d made one another to always support and look out for each other and the girls.

  Cymeryn studied them quizzically but said nothing as he turned to the door. It opened as the Healer stepped out. “How is she, Sanytia?”

  She sighed, shaking her head in disgust. “She had some internal injuries and a lot of bruising. The wounds on her stomach are faded, but they did not heal completely and it will take weeks for her to heal fully. They should heal in the awakening if there is nothing else that can be done.” She glanced back at the door. “It is her emotional state that concerns me, but the boy seems to be able to calm her and get her to listen, though he is a bit…controlling?” She broached uncertainly.

  Cymeryn nodded. “Thank you Sanytia. We will monitor it. It may simply be that is what she requires right now to push her through this,” he offered. They waited until the Healer was out of sight before Cymeryn motioned for the door. “Let us attend to this so we can get some rest this morn.”

  Byryn sighed and followed him in, knowing that Kyle was purposely keeping his mind busy to distract him from what he really wanted to know. He knew he’d tell him when he was ready to explain it, but it only made him leery of binding Wytheryn to him. It didn’t matter if his brother had been raised a slave, he’d find a way to come to terms with all this and free him.

  Alayne was on borrowed time. After everything he’d learned tonight that male was too much of a threat to leave unchecked. He didn’t know how they’d manage it when Cymeryn had never succeeded, but the High Priest needed to die. It was obvious he was working plans inside of strategies, inside of agendas, all to achieve his goal. He was targeting his blood, his mates, and his family. Staryana, Kyle, and Wytheryn had all suffered dearly because of that son of a bitch. If it was the last thing he did, he’d be damned sure he never got the chance to hurt any of them again.

  When they entered Wytheryn sat on the couch with Narysia in his lap. She hid her face from them, burrowing into him and pulling the robes that covered her tighter. She was so scared and Kyle hated that she was afraid of even Byryn and him, but he understood the reasons. It would probably take a few days before she would relax around them at all. With the connections they’d formed with her he hoped it wouldn’t take much longer than that for them to reach her.

  Kyle sat beside them, placing a hand on Wytheryn’s shoulder to help calm him somewhat. He wasn’t sure it was a fair tactic, but he knew it was probably soothing to him and he needed him to trust them right now so they could help her. He looked over at him and Kyle met his eyes. The male looked so uncertain and based on everything he knew and had seen he wondered if he’d ever even touched a girl before Narysia walked up to him a couple days ago.

  “We can try to heal her,” he offered. “Byryn and I would have to encircle her between us, but if you don’t think she can handle it we can hold you both between us. My question is…can you handle that?”

  He looked down at her before meeting his eyes with resignation. “For her I can.”

  He nodded, knowing that as Alayne’s he wasn’t allowed to let anyone else touch him without his Master’s command. For some reason Narysia wasn’t triggering the penance, likely because the strength of true mate bonds was beyond even the power of Alayne. If they were Sacred Borne that connection was even stronger and his and Byryn’s power should be able to counter the penance as well. In all honesty this would likely help to terminate the link as well, but he wasn’t going to bring that up. It wasn’t something he had the ability to test without risking Wytheryn. It wasn’t worth his life to experiment with it. Kyle knew what had to happen and if he tried to put it off it could cost Wytheryn his life.

  As Byryn sat on his brother’s other side he gently guided him forward and slid his arm behind him, taking Byryn’s hand before wrapping an arm around the front of them. They grasped hands firmly as they opened the links between them, completely allowing the essence to flow as white Light encompassed the four of them.

  He could feel it. They were definitely Sacred Borne but what did that mean? It was more than that though. It was Narysia. Who was she to him? She felt so damned familiar but in a distinct sort of way that he couldn’t place. It was the same sort of sensation he’d felt the first time Cymeryn had entered his mind, that knowledge of a connection he just couldn’t read or define. He didn’t know what to make of it.

  When they were sure her wounds would all be healed they released them. Wytheryn looked between them with an odd expression. “What does that mean? That feeling, it means something.”

  Kyle glanced to Byryn and Cymeryn. “It means you’ve both been touched by the Divine and her wounds are fully healed. She’ll likely be sore for a couple days yet, but all the bruising, cuts, and abrasions should be gone.”

  He reached under the robes that covered her, careful not to disturb her. The poor girl was exhausted and had passed out before they’d finished. It didn’t surprise him. When their essence merged completely like that it was one of the most peaceful feelings he’d ever experienced. Wytheryn eased immediately, finding whatever he’d checked gone. At least their sunshine wouldn’t have to deal with the physical reminder of what she’d been through tonight. The psychological scars would be more than enough.

  When they moved from the couch he rose, gently setting her down to rest. He adjusted the robes to cover her completely and walked to where Kyle’s Dad leaned against his desk. They watched as he knelt before him and waited to be heard.

  This was Wytheryn. It was why every reaction he’d had with him felt almost fake. The arrogance, the snide remarks, they were forced and based out of the anger and hate Alayne had bred into him, but his subservience was a deeply ingrained part of his personality. It would have to be for him to survive this long.

  Cymeryn sighed heavily. “Your favor honors me, Wytheryn, but we must find other suitable means for you to show it if we are in public. As much as it humbles me to see your appreciation, I do not want others to view you as subservient to us.”

  “Yes, Grandsire,” he replied, but Kyle could sense his confusion and uncertainty.

  Wytheryn didn’t understand. This was the highest form of respect in his mind. It probably felt like a rejection that they kept trying to dismiss it or telling him he needed to change it.

  He sighed walking up behind him and rested his hands on his shoulders again. “He’s not reprimanding you, Wytheryn. He’s trying to tell you he wants to help you fit into this life better. You’re one of us. You’re our equal, not our slave,” he explained trying to express this with the patience and understanding he needed.

  “Yes…” He stopped in confusion and fear. He’d almost slipped and called him Master.

  “Kyle,” he offered trying to alleviate the strain. “You are my gemyn’s brother. You’re not my slave or subordinate, Wytheryn. You will use my name. You don’t owe me a title.” He breathed deeply in frustration but nodded his understanding as Kyle allowed his essence to flow over him. “Good Wytheryn,” he praised.

  Cymeryn raised a brow studying the male. “Wytheryn, I am not questioning your loyalty, but I do not understand your behavior. Before this eve you have fought me and Byryn at every turn and now you seem completely subservient. I am not disappointed in you boy, only trying to understand you.”

  “I…I don’t understand.”

  Kyle breathed deeply knowi
ng he was being as genuine as he could be now. As a slave he’d be used to a complete lack of privacy. If there was any question of his intentions, the truth would be taken from his mind without a second thought. Wytheryn was sitting there completely open to them. He was trying to show them his loyalty, but he wasn’t a slave here. Aside from the emotions they felt from him, they weren’t sensing him any further. Wytheryn had literally offered them his life and he didn’t understand why they would have any reason to question this.

  Dad and Byryn were confused because this was complete turnaround. They didn’t get where the male was coming from, what he’d been through. His behavior was foreign to them. As Shade they’d both possessed slaves, but they weren’t Priests. They didn’t use the binding to control them. Instead their slaves were disciplined to explain themselves and, while subservient to them, they’d never seen servitude to the level Wytheryn was used to. Alayne’s slaves didn’t exist beyond the will of their Master.

  “He doesn’t really know any different,” Kyle interjected trying to find some way to make them understand. “He sees you as his superior because you’re his Grandsire and a King of this realm. Alayne has always considered you his rival and therefore that places you on his level. Byryn’s a Prince here. He’s also considered to be Elder and head of his line in the realm, Wytheryn’s line. If he considers you his enemies it’s easy for him to be smug and standoffish. However as his…” He searched for the right word but chose a different route. “Wytheryn, it’s alright, but you need to tell Cymeryn what your loyalty means to you. Explain what is he to you now, what that makes Byryn and I.”

  Wytheryn nodded lowering his head to the floor in fealty. “I am yours, my Masters.”