by Karey Brown
“Nay, my lady.”
None questioned Emily’s sudden insight. Her eyes glowed soft amber. Out of habit, each man clandestinely took a step away, lest she make a grab for one of their hilts.
“I’ll respect your wishes, Lady Emily. But, know this, when and if Princess Kendara says me yea, I may not match her in power, but she will respect I am her equal, out for her best interest, and at times, my word will be her law. As I swear fealty to her and her kin, so too, she will swear oath to mine of the Fey.”
Emily smiled. “I didn’t say I wanted her running roughshod over you.”
Inzyr pushed from the wall, freeing his small gold dagger. “Blood oath. I’ll tolerate nothing less for my granddaughter.” He sliced his own palm then grabbed Aedan’s hand.
Aedan snorted. “Will I one day drink from her neck, or will she drink from mine?”
Laughing softly, Emily shook her head, watching her father tightly clasp Aedan’s bleeding hand, muttering words. Aedan stared hard at the Lumynari, showing no fear. A few more words and the Shield Master gave a curt nod. Emily looked at their hands, now released from their tight hold. No blood. Weird. “Don’t panic, Aedan. She’s probably going have bitten each and every one of you before she’s done.”
“Aye. She’ll ‘ave all mi’ men eatin’ out the palm of her hand,” Broc said from behind Emily. His Emily giggled. “Ye’ did well, lass. Never ‘ave I witnessed such an event. Amazing. I thank you, Lady Emily. Can I get ye’ anything?” He shifted, pulling his leg gently from around her and heaved himself from the bed. He stretched, grabbed his lower back and winced. Emily spied bruising and claw marks up and down his arm. She hadn’t realized she’d been assaulting him. She crooked her finger for him to lower his head, whispering her request.
Broc’s sappy grinning turned grim. “Yer’ sure?”
A weak nod before she slid down, Vaide arranging pillows and pulling a blanket up. She was sound asleep, too deeply exhausted to be aware of the men shooed so Cianna and Maeve could apply ministrations to begin healing her body. Nor was she coherent of Vaide standing at her shoulder, should the enchantress, Cianna, command he supply his queen with blood if Emily’s began to ebb.
Broc watched her for a time. The guard, he knew, would never be far from her side. She’d be safe with this one. None were taking chances. They’d been careless protecting Aurelia. Emily, however, was acquiring her own little garrison. He lifted his foster son. Son. His to raise. To teach everything he knew so the boy would grow into a man. He nestled the tiny body closer to his heart. It felt good. Powerful. Awe-inspiring. His hands were the size of the infant’s entire body. He knew, without looking, Inzyr scrutinized, weighing if he were worthy. He supposed, if he weren’t, he’d have long been dead by now, the assassin fiercely protective of his daughter.
“You have good insight, Outlander.” Inzyr clapped the Forest Lord on the shoulder. “We are bonded now.” The assassin shrugged. “Now, I’ll have to make sure it’s truly a worthy reason before I kill you.”
Broc narrowed his gaze. “You may refer to me as your liege—“
Both males laughed.
And both were vastly aware of the strange turn of events uniting ancient enemies.
“Well, laddie,” Reignsfeugh said from the door, Aunsgar pushing past him to see the new arrivals, “what did she whisper to ye’? What is it she said she needs?”
Broc grimaced.
“You look to be facing death,” Aunsgar noted. Urkani stepped around the laird. Both nodded to Emily’s sire before taking a closer look at the newest members to join the motely inhabitants of Castle MacLarrin.
Maeve confiscated Denzyr and passed Broc a small tumbler of scotch. “Might as well tell them.” She pat his arm and moved to a newly fashioned cradle, whittled by Aunsgar.
“Ye’ ken?”
“Aye.”
“Yer’ hearing frightens me, auld woman.”
“As it should.”
Broc downed his scotch.
Reignsfeugh cursed, knowing it must be bad. He eyed Erchyll, who had just picked himself off the floor, daring the priest to lecture him about blasphemy. Broc’s next words rendered them speechless . . . save for a bandy-legged priest who shouted gleefully, clamped a hand over his mouth and looked at the still sleeping twins, then rushed from the chamber towards his church.
Inzyr cursed in Balkorian.
Vaide chuckled.
The twins were to be baptized. Erchyll’s Holy water would finally have a use. God help them all, they’d never hear the end of the priest’s bragging.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Had it been a painting, it would have been labeled exaggerated. Surreal. Pooh-poohed as fantasy. Too beautiful to exist as genuine topography. A freakish late season storm last night, Old Man Winter howling his rage before taking his leave of these lands. She snapped the shutter again, hoping the camera lens would capture what her eyes beheld.
It mirrored her soul.
Icy terrain. Frozen trees looking as if their limbs were made of glass. White contrasted sharply against a sky so cold blue, it looked bruised; the azure of Dezenial’s eyes.
Was he looking down at her?
Nothing stirred. Even Sister Wind huddled somewhere, her brother, Winter, obviously winning their forever-battle.
Wish you were here to see this, Dez.
Thick mist halted, barricaded by an invisible wall of ice cold. Swirling, thickening, trying in vain to stretch across the iced land, it could travel no further than the outcropping of trees. As a last effort, it soared, searching for away over an unseen barrier. Faint shadows of smile played with her bluing lips. Maybe it was the ghost of Dezenial trying valiantly to return to her.
“You need to feed.”
She flinched, still not used to Vaide’s sudden appearances, nor his insight. “No.”
“My Lord Dezenial’s children wean your strength.”
Her gaze swiveled to Vaide’s, his yellow eyes reminding her of a tiger’s, pupils diamond in shape. She nodded, and leaned against him when he drew near. “Why am I so comfortable with you? Why do I fight it?”
He wrapped his arms around her, his body heat warming her. “We were . . . companions, when Hades guarded you, until Zeus cast you out into the mortal’s realm.”
She looked up at him from the crook of his arm. “Lovers?”
His answer wasn’t immediate. “Yes,” he finally said.
“There was a pause there, Vaide.”
“Lord Dezenial knows of our relationship. It is why he chose me to be with you, should anything ever befall him. I never thought it would come to pass.”
“I didn’t either.”
He kissed the top of her head, both content to hold each other, ancient friends, and seek comfort in shared heartache. Skies darkened, the sun finally saying goodnight.
“Come, I will ease your thirst. Do you wish to dominate again?”
Gently, she smacked his arm. “You should at least pretend you need a shirt in this cold. No, I’m still not used to the idea of having sex with you.” She held up her finger, pointing at him. “One word about how it didn’t seem to be a problem the other night, and I’ll . . . well, I don’t know what I’ll do—stop grinning.”
Gently, he confiscated her icy hand and placed it on his neck, pulsating artery pushing against her fingers. Her gums itched, teeth stretching the delicate skin. “Just a little.”
His throaty chuckle was the last she heard, Vaide having sunk to his knees so she could better reach his neck. Her ears roared with the sound of his blood coursing through his magnificent body. His hands trailed down her arms, delicately placing her fingers in his hair. The Daemon knew this act would awaken her. The rest was a blur, as she yanked his head back; too long without the hot liquid his body nourished hers with. She drank deeply until her jaws ached. Lapping droplets of blood, she disentangled her fingers from his hair and dabbed at her mouth as he stood. “My father still rages that Dezenial and he spoke many times in rega
rds to you and I being together. I just can’t go to the next level with you, Vaide. I’m not ready. I feel like, you drinking from me . . .” she shook her head, and turned away.
Vaide held her from behind, every so often sweeping Emily’s hair back, Sister Wind determined to swish some of the wayward strands. “In the mortal’s realm, you are taught a different way than Lumynari and Daemon. You are my queen. My loyalty is to you and Prince Dezenial. It is not to make you unhappy, or uncomfortable. My duty is to you, regardless of how you see fit for that use.”
Quickly she turned, and buried herself against him. He held her tightly, comforting her as she sobbed for her beloved. Cupping the back of her head, holding her close, he gave her long moments to dry her eyes. “Though the guardian banded around your arm warms you, it grows too cold for you to be up here much longer.” He cupped her chin, softly tilting her head. He kissed her brow. “A few moments more, Lady Emily, and then you must seek shelter and true warmth.”
She nodded and he stepped away, once again merging with shadows.
Emily moved closer to the low wall, caressed her abdomen and looked out over the upper bailey. Her stomach was flat again. She grinned at her vanity. Her body had become strong again thanks to a mercilessly untiring Urkani. A truce had settled between she and the Elf commander. Daily, they sought each other, each seeming to achieve a certain solace only found in the other. He kept her so physically active during her training, she slept free of dreams. She had voiced that she was indebted to him forever for the small window of peace he’d provided her with, enabling her to sleep again. He had smiled, but said nothing.
“I’ve never seen you smile. You should do it more often.”
“It is the first time, in a long time, that I have felt the need to.”
“Do you see me as Aurelia . . . as your lost betrothed?”
Surprisingly, he nodded. She cherished his honesty. “I chose a path I was duty bound to follow. It doesn’t mean I liked it,” he’d said before turning away.
“Urkani?”
He halted his horse and allowed her to catch up. Pain marred his otherwise ethereal face. “Tell me.”
“I’ve spent thirty-six hundred years wondering if my choice was selfish. If I’d not given fealty to Aunsgar, if I’d married you as destined . . . would you have still been exiled? Would you have still been murdered by the Lumynari—maybe at the keep, or along the shore? Just because you would not have fallen under guardianship of the Forest Lords, would Ardra have still murdered you?”
“Would destiny have still brought about my demise, regardless where I called home.”
He nodded.
She expelled air. “Seems like we have many paths, though at the time, we don’t know it. And we certainly don’t know where they’ll lead. Maybe Aurelia would have survived,” she looked straight at him. “And you would have perished. Defending her? Defending your children—“
He flinched.
Absolute realization washed over her. Amber eyes pricked, tears, sudden knowing.
“You never had children. Because of your decision. And then, Pendaran’s curse.” His eyes were the only admission he dared. “And now, I have children.”
“Who are endearing, very cherished—“
“But still fill you with pain of what could have been; what will never be.”
“I am sorry for it.”
She shook her head. “Don’t be. I know your pain, Urkani.” She looked above, dark clouds promising another storm. “Trust me, I know your sense of loss.”
He took her hand, their horses moving closer. “I will find a new path, and on it, will be the one I’m intended to be with. Now that you’ve returned, so too will our destinies, for all of us.”
They embraced, pulled apart, and allowed their horses to canter back to the stables.
Memories faded to incoherent echoes. Urkani had trusted her with innermost revelations about himself, something Elves never partook in. She treasured what they now had. Gently, she placed her camera on the small table, having taken one last shot, and returned her grasp upon the cold stone wall. “Kendara squeals continuously, watching Aedan shift back and forth from man into cat.” Emily looked down, hint of a smile. “Your men tease he will do this too often, ending up a man with feline whiskers and tail.”
“How long ‘ave ye’ known I was here?” Broc asked, coming closer.
“Since you arrived. Aunsgar has departed?”
“He prepares, but says it may be one or two more days. He’s no longer able to ignore his visions regarding the woman called Kit. Strange name.”
“I worry for his safety in the mountains of California. People of my realm are very . . . what are you hiding from me?”
“Your father will accompany him.”
Emily inhaled so sharply, not only did Broc rush closer, but also, Vaide manifested from shadow.
“No, no, I’m fine. Sorry.” I will be alone.
No, my queen, you will not.
She looked at Vaide quizzically. How long have you been in my mind?
Only when we are this close, and only when you are truly distressed. Remember, I was sent to keep you safe and comfortable, mind, body and soul, when needed.
She nodded, dropped her gaze and blushed a bit. Broc looked between the two of them. Vaide nodded to the laird, and returned to his stance within shadows.
Longingly, Emily looked towards the strange mist swirling again, this time higher than before. It called to her, pulling her, pleading she vacate the castle, allowing the white billowy mass to encompass her.
As Dezenial once had.
His exhale had been her inhale. Would her heart never cease this anguished cinching? The twins were her singular light. His legacy. Warmth thawed her for a moment. Each mirrored him in their own way. Kendara with high cheekbones, his chiseled mouth, but with amber eyes and Inzyr’s temper. Denzyr had a peculiar calmness, indifferent to Kendara’s screams . . . his eyes azure blue that near broke her heart. The twins babbled in a strange language, and actually seemed to understand each other. Her father spoke with them as well, stating they spoke the language of the gods. Perfect. Thank you, Hades. The twins would one day plot, and she’d never be the wiser, because she didn’t speak whatever they spoke on Mt. Olympus. Her twins were very bonded. And though they had dozens of uncles, their own personal assassin, a dog-beast who surprisingly relished tail-tuggings, explaining it was the reason for owning two of them, and their clamoring all over him as if were a giant couch . . . never did they tolerate too long, their mother being far. Even if held from the terrace, as long as they could see her below while she practiced sword fighting, archery or wrestling, they were content.
Oddly, they always knew when her heart was heaviest. Kendara would screech until brought to her, Denzyr not far with the same demand. That strange language between them and, suddenly, they would stare at her. She’d take them both, fitting them onto her lap where they’d latch onto her hair, and pat her back. Unsettling. Tender. It never failed to warm her.
Emily breathed deeply, and held in the crisp air as long as she could.
“Colin and Reignsfeugh prepare to play the cello and pipes. They sent me ta’ invite you.”
“Perhaps, in a while.”
“Emily?”
Turning her head slightly, she peripherally offered her attention.
“Lass, he’s gone. I ken yer’ pain. I suffered, long ago, the same loss. Ye’ve got ta’ begin the journey back.” His voice dropped, barely above a whisper. “Ye’ve got to, Emily.”
“Every time I laugh, it’s a betrayal to him.” She looked out to the mists again. “Every day I think of him, but no matter how much . . .” she knuckle-dashed her tears and turned to face the laird. “His image fades. Where clarity resided, now mere glimpses are all that remain. Sometimes, a rare smile, or laughter he never allowed any to hear from him,” she pointed to her head, “I can hear it, as if he’s just down the way. Twice,” she held up two fingers, “I actually took off
down those stairs, nearly broke my neck, just sure it really was him I heard. Wind. Nothing more than a trick of wind.” More tears needed to be wiped away. “His hair, or an expression . . . but no longer, do I see him in his entirety. No paintings. No photos. Nothing left behind enabling me to refresh my mind’s eye, that I can say, ‘don’t even think about forgetting’. Why does my memory betray me like this? So, when I’m up here, if I’m very, very still, for a time, I can hear his voice upon the wind. Sometimes, Broc, sometimes, I can even laugh again over something he said meant only for me.”
Vaide moved to her, strength without touching he offered her. Black hair swaying against powerful shoulders forever void of tunic. How much longer before she entwined herself to him? Her father had warned, not much longer would he abide her grieving. He understood the reasons, but demanded, for the sake of the twins, she take Vaide and begin anew, as much as she was able in the wake of her profound loss. Emily knew too, her father did not want to suffer loss such as he had when her own mother had passed. What right did she have to put him through that again? No, she knew she would give in to her father’s reasoning and accept Vaide. The Daemon was protective, loving and soft spoken, unless they were sharing their bodies. He fully understood that she was Lumynari. But never did he try to override her memories or her love for Dezenial. For that, she loved him already. Maybe, one day, she could offer him more than just the shell she currently was.
“Fading memories force ye’ ta’ heal,” Broc said.
“Then why doesn’t it start with the pain of heartache instead of erasing his image?”
Broc lacked answers as she turned from him, her shoulders trembling. He’d accepted, many months ago, Emily would never be his. He’d grieved in private, keeping to himself for many weeks. Until his men’s panic brought his attention to the fact that she was waif thin. Silence her constant companion, her eyes always watching, observing life, but never truly participating. He’d gone to Aunsgar. And demanded Vaide step from shadows. Both Daemon and Elf had agreed with Broc, the twins, nothing else, kept her from slipping so deeply within, none would find her. Broc had railed at Vaide to take her, Inzyr having explained what would happen to Emily if she did not accept the Daemon as her new mate. Vaide had told a tale, holding Broc to secrecy—as if he would dare break an oath given to a Daemon. Emily would have to make the choice, whether or not to allow Vaide to claim her, similar to Dezenial’s claim, though not as soul deep. Theirs would not be for eternity, that was reserved for Dezenial. But what Emily and Vaide would share would enable Emily to continue in this life, her heartache lessoning with time versus intensifying. And he could not push. It was not their way. It was not his place. Emily was his queen and he loved her deeply, but not in the way mortal men love mortal women. In that, he’d not been able to fully make Broc, nor Aunsgar understand the difference. Broc’s heart pounded over a recent event, the memory still making him break out in a sweat. Two separate occasions, Emily had stood upon the outer curtain wall. Urkani had coaxed her down, Elven footing more sure than any of theirs. The second time, her Daemon protector had leapt from the ground to the forty-foot high wall top—his men still spoke of it—and simply whisked her into his arms and jumped down. He didn’t think he’d ever forget Maeve’s shriek. Vaide had handed her to Urkani, spoken a few words to him in Elvish, and stepped back, becoming one with the wall. By now, his men were accustomed to Vaide’s uncanny ability to appear next to Emily without warning, then vanish. The Elf commander had forced her into physical activity, his daily teas secretly laden with Elvish herbs to begin putting color in her cheeks . . . and increase her appetite. Maeve made sure to serve everything she could create with potatoes, oats, and barley. Meat on the bones was what the lass needed, the auld woman had crowed.