A Lair So Loyal (The Last Dragorai Book 2)

by Zoey Ellis

  Oshali stared at her. “Does that mean I’ve… passed?”

  Guardian Vy said nothing for a long moment, taking the time to observe Oshali. “You are one of the most rebellious children we’ve ever had here.”

  Oshali drew in a slow breath slowly and held it.

  “You are incredibly bright,” Vy continued. “You have an unusual affinity for magic, a quick and brilliant mind, and your tenacious curiosity has helped you develop into one of the most well-informed and talented novices we have ever raised in the sanctum. But you have rebelled against almost every rule in one way or another. You have repeatedly questioned our lifestyle and the purpose of what we do. You’ve even gone as far as to question the logic and mindset of the Goddesses.”

  Oshali wasn’t sure what to say. She’d certainly argued a lot with some of the guardians over the years when she was trying to understand their culture—why they simply recorded events rather than go out and live them—but she didn’t realize her questions would be considered unusual or disruptive. And yes, she had been very mischievous as a teenager, but most of the orphans had.

  “But the fact remains that we believe you would be an excellent Mheyu Guardian,” Guardian Vy said.

  “You do?” Oshali breathed out a heavy sigh. She’d been wondering where the guardian was going with this line of thought.

  “Absolutely,” she replied. “You cannot seek the truth without a curious mind, and you certainly cannot record the history of events if you do not care enough to question how the information came to be. Being a Mheyu Guardian is not just about records and dates and archives, it is about the integrity to record history in a fair way. It is an incredible responsibility that many do not consider important, and yet it affects us all in some way or another.”

  “You mean it will affect future generations?” Oshali asked.

  “Not just them,” Guardian Vy said. “It affects us all right now.” She smiled at Oshali’s puzzled expression. “I’m sure your opinion of the dragorai would be different if you hadn’t studied every single thing written about them from times past,” she explained. “If you hadn’t gained an understanding of who they are and the significance of what they mean or meant to the realms, and what they have experienced and been through, it is unlikely you would feel or behave the same toward them,” she pointed out. “This knowledge affects your conduct now.”

  Oshali nodded. That was true. “But not everybody reads the Mheyu records. It only matters if the information is passed on. Right now, it just sits here.”

  Guardian Vy pursed her lips. “For now,” she agreed. “While the realm is at war, we cannot expect people will want to read them. But eventually, they will seek our records. There is a reason the warring king and queen do not attack the sanctum.”

  “You think it is because we have the favor of the Goddesses?”

  Vy’s expression grew sour. “The dragorai had the favor of the Goddesses and look what many mortals did to them.” Her lips puckered. “No. I’m sure that the Mheyu are being spared because whoever wins would like to rewrite our history, read all of our records and documentation, and either destroy or hide it. Then maybe create records in their favor. I do not think the king or queen are above doing that.” She held Oshali’s eye. “And I hope you can imagine the power that would give them?”

  An uncomfortable shiver trembled down Oshali’s spine. The way Guardian Vy was talking, it was as though the Mheyu and all their work, over a thousand centuries of history, could be under threat. And that wasn’t something Oshali had ever imagined.

  “The only concern we have about you becoming a Guardian is that rebellious nature you have,” Vy said after silence had stretched through the room. “The lack of control.”

  Oshali frowned. “Surely I have proven I can control myself, Guardian?”

  “I explicitly told you not to speak in the dragorai interviews. Not only did you speak, but you insulted him.”

  Oshali was taken aback for a moment. She tried to explain herself. “He was trying to intimidate me. He talked about my veil and his brother—”

  “So?” Vy’s gaze was stern. “Nothing is more important in that scenario than getting the testimony. Nothing.”

  “Guardian Tavelai wasn’t saying anything,” Oshali protested. “She was letting him distract himself from the interview. There was nothing of benefit happening there.”

  Vy leaned forward. “Wasn’t there?”

  Oshali stopped to think for a moment, suddenly unsure. The guardians in the interview had still continued scribing, even when Sethorn had been speaking to her. Maybe there had been some benefit she hadn’t seen.

  “We knew it was unlikely that you would stay with us once you turn twenty-five,” Vy said, interrupting her thoughts.

  Oshali opened her mouth to speak but again, realized she didn’t know what to say. Part of her had truly considered what it would be like to stay, to remain where she was comfortable. But the only truly exciting thing about being here was talking with Tyomar, and that was more nerve-racking than anything else.

  “But we allowed you to pursue earning the Gowns to help you take control of that side of yourself.”

  “So… you never intended for me to actually become a guardian?” Oshali asked, shocked.

  “Did you intend it?” Vy asked back, not unkindly. “It seems to me your primary intention is to leave the sanctum. Attempting to achieve your Gowns when you have no intention of being a guardian seems like a cruel deception, Oshali.”

  “No. I…” Oshali shook her head, trying to gather her thoughts and explain herself. Achieving her Gowns when she was not going to be a Mheyu Guardian seemed like a waste of time, energy, and effort for everyone involved, but she couldn’t have passed up the opportunity to do it—she just had to.

  “It wasn’t just about keeping you busy. Yes, we wanted you to remain challenged and engaged while here. Someone with your mind and your talents couldn’t have nothing to do until you reached twenty-five; it would have been all seven hells for all of us, not just you.” The corner of Vy’s lip curled up in a wry smile, but Oshali was too focused on what the consequences were going to be to smile along with her. “We thought you would do well too. We just didn’t expect how well. And now, after meeting with the Vattoro clan, circumstances have changed a little.”

  Oshali frowned. “How?”

  Vy leaned forward in her chair. “We believe they all will eventually find their mates.”

  Elation and relief gripped Oshali, but only for a moment because Tyomar sprung to her mind. Beautiful, powerful Tyomar. He would indeed find his mate. The ugly feelings about that idea rushed back to her, but she tried to focus on what Vy was saying. “How does that change things for me?”

  “We have an assignment.”

  Oshali drew a breath in, her eyes widening. “For me?”

  Assignments were one of the most exciting tasks that Mheyu Guardians undertook. They were missions to travel to different places across the realm to witness an event first hand, record someone’s testimony, collect an item of importance, something the guardians could not do from inside in the sanctum. In Oshali’s opinion, assignments were one of the main reasons to even earn the Gowns, but not every guardian was trained to go on them. From Oshali’s understanding, the guardians who traveled the lands were awarded certain privileges and protections, even with the current war that waged the lands.

  “Currently you are the most appropriate person we have to do this assignment,” Vy replied. “You don’t have to go, but we would like you to. Once you complete it for us successfully, you will be free to leave the sanctum for good, like your friends.”

  Oshali stared at Vy for a long moment as she thought. If she could go out into the realm as a Mheyu on an assignment, she would be able to explore while remaining relatively safe. It was the perfect opportunity to do everything she wanted and have everything she wanted for a short time. And it wouldn’t be a terrible thing to be away from Tyomar for the first time in seven
years. “So if I take the assignment, I can leave the sanctum?”

  “If you complete It successfully,” Vy added. “Though there is never any guarantee. You may not even survive it.”

  Oshali nodded. “Right, but if I don’t go?”

  “Then you stay here at the sanctum beyond your twenty-fifth,” Vy responded. “And spend your lifetime putting to use the years of training we have invested in you.”

  “Oh.”

  Vy leaned forward again. “I know you want to explore the realm. There are many benefits that your talents can offer the Mheyu Guardians, Oshali. If you are in any doubt about what your purpose is to the goddesses, or to the realms, you have a uniquely honed talent for everything we do here. You would make an excellent guardian.”

  Oshali smiled, her face heating at the guardian’s praise. “I do love what you do here,” she admitted. “I just need something more.”

  The guardian sighed and leaned back. “I know. Most of our young people do. They need to experience the realms for themselves and not just through words on parchment. It is unfortunate because some of them would no doubt do better if they stayed with us.”

  “But don’t you allow them to come back if they choose?” Oshali asked. She already knew the formal explanation of why, but she wanted to hear Vy say it, because Oshali would love to explore the lands and then come back if she wanted to. But the Mheyu didn’t allow that.

  Vy slowly shook her head. “There is a concept in the Thrakond culture that idle people among a group contribute negative results. Anyone here must be dedicated to the Mheyu cause. We guardians do not monitor each other, we trust each other to do what we are supposed to do. Every single guardian has faith in the Seven from the moment we put on our cloaks. The children who have never left, who have had that faith in the Mheyu and stay with us, are the ones that we realize and recognize to be faithful to our cause. The ones who want to go out and see what the world is like are not interested in that, so it would not benefit them to return here. We are not a shelter. We look after the innocent and guide them the best way we can until they are self-sufficient adults. That is as much as we can do. Everyone else has to make up their own minds and make their own choices. We cannot do it for them.” Vy looked closely at Oshali. “With you it is slightly different. You have displayed certain skills way before your time. You have an ability and talent for learning language that we have never seen in any other child in the time we have been here. We expect all who train in the Mheyu way, whether they end up as aides or novices or get their Gowns, to learn Thrakondarian and steep themselves in the history of the Thrakonds… but that doesn’t mean that they take to it easily. You have a gift, and that is what has led to this unusual scenario. So the decision is yours to make.”

  Oshali leaned back in her chair slowly, exhaling a breath. She had been short-sighted and selfish to think she could go through all the training they’d offered and not stay around to make use of it. It didn’t really occur to her. The training gave her something to do and focus on; Silette and Joren had even encouraged her to do it. But it wasn’t fair to the guardians. Even if they had offered, she could have refused and made it clear she wasn’t staying, but she hadn’t wanted to let the guardians down. While she didn’t always agree with them, they had looked after her and the other children over the years without complaint. And even though her life may not be as exciting as she would like, the purpose of having children at the sanctum was safety from the horrific and arduous war. She held a great deal of respect for the guardians for that; their lives would no doubt be easier if they didn’t have to constantly monitor, discipline, and teach children.

  The other reason was Tyomar.

  As much as she wanted to ignore the pain that plagued at the thought of him mating, it clearly signified something she never wanted to admit. There was more than just desire and attraction. And those feelings made her wonder if it would be so bad to stay. After all, he was her savior and, in some ways, her overseer. As much as it was against the guidelines, he asked her how she was, offered support in his own annoying way, and debated with her about a range of topics. But he was a dragorai. His affections could never be for a “lesser mortal.” They considered the smaller mortals inferior—good for some things, like adoration and devotion, but not for anything significant. She’d like to think that Tyomar was different—he certainly didn’t treat her like she was inferior—but he treated her like a child. Yet what was Oshali planning to do? Stay at the sanctum, become a guardian and stay in love with the one man she could never have? A powerful dragorai who twisted her insides and left her tongue-tied most of the time. Was she to spend the rest of her life pining for him while he plundered and hunted and laid with every woman in his path? She didn’t doubt that Tyomar was just as wild as his brothers. Just because he was prettier did not mean he didn’t have the same instincts, the same drive. She had often wondered if being with would be like what she’d read. To be destroyed by his savage kiss, to have him desire her… it was truly an unbelievable thought. It would never happen. Now, there was a real possibility his mate was waiting for him. And that made her feel incredibly stupid, because it illuminated the difference between them, something she should have always remembered; he was an anointed being, and she was a mortal whom he felt responsible for. That was all. And it wasn’t a reason to stay.

  Her eyes flicked up to Guardian Vy. “You said this assignment was important?”

  Vy nodded. “It is. If the Mheyu were to ever be under threat in ways I mentioned earlier, it would be very problematic for us. This assignment will help to protect us.”

  “And you all believe I am best suited to it?”

  “Yes. We hope that the extensive knowledge you have gained as a Mheyu will help balance your inexperience.”

  Even if this was offered as an ultimatum, the guardians were giving her an opportunity to safely explore the lands, and afterward she would be more confident to go out into the realms and live her life, away from the dragorai and away from all rules and procedures. That was what she wanted, and that was what she deserved.

  Her earlier excitement returned, slamming into her with the full brunt of all the years she had waited for the chance to leave the sanctum.

  Deciding, she stood up, smiling at Vy. “I’ll do it.”

  The next day, the buzz of excitement that floated around her body didn’t seem to want to fade. Everything seemed different now. Her immediate future looked bright, and so did her long-term future. With this assignment, she would get to do everything she’d wanted to do, and she was going to grab the opportunity and make the most of it.

  As she was finishing her preparations, an aide knocked on her door

  “The dragorai is here to see you again,” the aide said. “He appears agitated.”

  Oshali frowned. Why did he need to see her again so soon? He saw her last week, and he had visited the temple the last two days when his brothers attended their interviews. Still, she promised him she would not refuse his requests for an audience again, and it would be an opportunity to say good-bye.

  Sighing, she made her way to the older part of the sanctum and put on her veil and fixed her hood over her hair. She walked out onto the platform; the breeze playing with her robes, and took her position. “By the grace of the sacred Seven—”

  “You did not attend my interview,” Tyomar growled out. It was an accusation, not a question, and Oshali was disappointed that he was once again annoyed.

  She began the welcome prayer again. “By the grace—”

  “Forget the fucking welcome prayer,” Tyomar bellowed. “Why did you not attend my interview?”

  Oshali stared at him, bewildered. “I told you I may not be able to attend. Interviewing is reserved for the guardians—”

  “You attended my brothers!” Tyomar almost roared. “Two of them! And yet you did not attend mine.”

  Oshali face hardened as she glared at him. “I could only choose to attend two.”

  “That does no
t answer my question.”

  “I see you more regularly than I see your brothers, so—”

  “So you wish to see my brothers?” His voice dropped to a deadly growl, and he clenched his fists, causing a ridged tenseness all the way up his arms to his shoulders.

  Oshali froze. What exactly was happening here? What was he so angry about?

  She exhaled and took a moment to quiet her thoughts. When she peered closer at him, she saw that he wasn’t just annoyed but angry. He was pacing at the edge of the ledge, watching her with furiously dark eyes, his neck bulging. Maybe he arrived angry about something else, and it had nothing to do with this situation? He shouldn’t have been expecting her to attend his interview in the first place. Maybe he was offended that she had attended his brothers are not his. Regardless, it shouldn’t have made him this angry.

  In truth, she hadn’t considered that he would be petty about it, but Sethorn’s taunt flooded into her mind. Maybe he did believe that she was his Mheyu, and maybe it was time to dispel that notion.

  Squaring her shoulders, Oshali spoke calmly. “I apologize if I offended you for not attending your interview, Anointed One,” she said, trying to keep as much annoyance out of her tone as she could. “However, there was much for me to learn from attending your brothers’ interviews.”

  Tyomar paused his pacing, glaring at her. “Like what?” he demanded.

  “To meet them and see how they respond to questions,” Oshali said. “There have been many records made about your clan over the years. It was unlikely I would get the opportunity again to observe your brothers, whereas I have regular contact with you.”

  That seemed to make him even angrier. Damn it! She couldn’t say anything right. A rough growl erupted in the back of his throat, and his eyes flashed. Immediately a tingling sensation sparked in her stomach, swirling down between her legs, but she ignored it. She had to.

  “It will please you to know,” she said, taking the opportunity to change the subject. “That I am now considered a full Mheyu Guardian.” She smiled at him. “My training was successful.”