“It’s just a bruise,” Rayna said, picking up her bracelet. It was undamaged. She sighed in relief.
“Does it mean something?”
“Aye. It does.”
“Rayna, may I ask you something personal?”
She hesitated, but did not want Coer to know she suspected him. “All right.” She replaced the bracelet around her wrist.
“Why are you marrying Rhael?”
She paused, but none of this information would be new to Rhael. There was no harm in telling Coer, and it lifted the pressure by some small measure to speak the words to someone else. “I had to.”
“Did your uncle force you?”
“No. Bayne would never want this life for me. If he knew my misery, it would kill him.”
“Then why?”
“At first, I'd hoped to protect my country, to convince my packmates that the alliance was a good idea. I wanted to be a hero, but when I realized all that I was giving up, I changed my mind. But then Rhael took something from me, something I cannot live without. I don't know why. I can't understand why he despises me so much, or why I'm here. It doesn't make sense.”
“So you must go through with it? There is no other way to get back what he took?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Rayna listen, I can’t promise to protect you from Rhael. I’m sorry. But I will do whatever it takes to help you, so you can get back what was stolen.”
Rayna smiled at Coer, but said nothing. Despite her reservations, she buried her face into his shoulder. They sat there, silent, for a long time. He pulled his arm around her and pressed his cheek to the top of her head.
“Everything will be fine. You're safe,” he murmured as Rayna wept against him. She did not understand his gentleness. It could be some cruel trick planned by Rhael. But as Coer's hands wiped away her tears, she could not help but believe that perhaps there was still some kindness in the world.
Rhael smirked as he heard Coer slip into Rayna's room and close the door. He had done well to assign such a softhearted and comely man to her protection. Their closeness would be useful. He descended the spiral staircase and made for the east wing. Immaculately maintained tapestries depicting long-dead forefathers haunted his peripheral vision as he strode through the main corridor. Now and then he passed a servant or guard, all who were quick to bow and murmur 'my lord.'
Once Rhael reached the stairs to his own chambers, he was alone. The tap of his boots against stone echoed as he lit the torches with a wave of his hand. He passed through his sitting room, dressing room, and sleeping quarters before entering his study. The smell of incense clung to the heavy fabrics that framed his room and kept the drafts at bay. A fine layer of dust coated the mantel and the overburdened bookshelves. No servant was to enter here, on pain of death.
Rhael approached the high table in the room's exact center. He glanced at the iron chandelier above, and its seven candles flicked to life. A silver hourglass rested beside a basin filled with still, black liquid. Blood dripped steadily from one glass bulb to the other. In a few moments, the top globe would be drained. It was almost the appointed time.
The mirror-like surface of the basin rippled. A voice, smooth and unyielding as marble, came from the darkness. “I trust you bring good news, Lord Rhael.”
“Yes. The girl is in my possession, Councilor.”
“You are certain she is the Fenearen seer?”
“As certain as I can be. Morna was deeply affected by her, and vouched for it.”
“Even so, I am sending my emissaries to confirm. Do nothing until they arrive.”
“As you wish, Councilor.”
“Very good. How fares your pet seer? Miss Morna Helena?”
Rhael could hear the smile in the disembodied words. “The same as always. Beautiful, eager, occasionally useful. Why do you ask?”
“I wished to know if you would part with her.”
Rhael ground his teeth. He had no intention of letting Terayan take Morna. “Why? What possible use would you have for her?”
“The same as you have, I imagine. But I see I have touched upon a sensitive subject. I will not pry further. Tell me, how went your first time using the Sionic Hex? Who was the hapless victim?”
Rhael did not ask how the Councilor knew about the hex. Anyone with a scrap of magical talent would feel such a powerful curse. “It was far simpler than I had expected, given your grand descriptions and warnings. The result was nevertheless satisfying. It proved an invaluable tool to gain control over Rayna.”
“You used it on someone close to the seer? Is that wise when she is one of the few capable of breaking it?”
Rhael chuckled. “Yes, but she does not know that.”
The Councilor laughed. “Indeed, it is always best when your puppets have no idea of their true power. I’m surprised you resorted to such drastic measures to lure the girl. Were your charms not enough to woo her, Lord Rhael?”
Rhael exhaled sharply. “I easily convinced her marrying me would protect her people, but when I pretended to be enraptured by her savage charms–to dispel any suspicions or doubts–my seduction infuriated her. Nor was she was interested in promises of wealth and privilege. Cursing her lover was the only way to control her. I told her it was within my power to bring him back, and she believed me.”
“Fenearens are not known for their interest in civilized society. I trust you will keep her under control until my emissaries arrive and confirm her identity? After that, we can continue as planned.”
“Of course, Councilor. May the True God's favor fall upon you.”
“And you, Overlord.”
The ripples ceased and stillness returned to the chamber. Rhael turned his hourglass over and watched as the blood began to flow once more.
Chapter Ten
Roxen peered into Channon's den, nose twitching at the staleness of his friend's scent. He wondered how long it would be until Channon returned. Probably not until after Rayna's wedding. He shook his head and turned back toward the site's center. Losing Rayna to Rhael and the Maenorens was difficult for them all, but none more than Channon, and the poor man would be forced to watch it unfold right in front of him. Roxen could see how Channon felt about Rayna, even if neither of his friends had been ready to explore it. He was not quite as sure of Rayna's feeling, but he had never expected their story to end with her betrothal to someone else. Especially not to the Maenoren Overlord.
His mother's warm smile brought Roxen back to the present as Thera approached him from the other side of the fire pit.
“Are you worried about Channon and Rayna?” she asked, running her hand through his auburn locks as she so often did.
“Of course, I am. Rayna's strong. She can handle anything, but how can we ask so much of her?” He shook his head. “And Channon, he must be heartbroken. How can he stand it?”
“Perhaps he can't.”
“What do you mean, Mada?”
She touched his wrist. “Roxen, did I ever tell you that before your father and I became mates, he was promised to another woman?”
Roxen blinked. “What?”
“Courtship was different in those days. Parents had more say in matchmaking than they do now. Damen's parents wanted him to take a woman, Aileen, for a mate. For the life of me, I cannot remember why they were set on the match.”
“What happened?”
A hint of pink touched her cheeks. “You did. At first, I was scared that Damen would take back everything he'd promised, that he would bow to his parents' wishes. I should have known better. Damen loved me, and I love him. Death hasn't changed that.”
“So you're saying that Channon might still be able to get her back?”
“I have known Channon and Rayna their entire lives. A bond likes theirs is not easily broken. If anyone can bring her back, it's him.”
Roxen clenched his fists, feeling shame settle in his stomach. “I should have gone with them. Bayne and Silver need to stay with the pack, but Channon and Ray
na could use help now that they've gone into that viper's nest.”
“Believe in your friends, my son. Sometimes that is all we can do for those we love.”
“But what if it isn't enough?” Roxen's voice was a strangled whisper. Rayna, the sister of his heart, had left them. Channon, one of the few he considered a true friend, had left, too. He had not even said goodbye. Roxen did not notice his own tears until one escaped down his cheek. He brushed it away, hoping no one had seen.
A gruff laugh caught Roxen's attention and he turned to its source. Nero stood at the head of a hunting party.
“Aw, Thera, is your poor little pup missing his friends?” Nero's comment incited several sniggers from the hunters.
Roxen's spine stiffened. “I am no pup, Nero Geddeont. I am your Beta, and you would do well to remember that.”
“Strong words from someone who was just crying to their mother.”
Thera stepped between them. “Displaying emotions does not make one weak.”
Nero glanced from Roxen to Thera. “Do you let your mother fight all your battles, Roxen?”
“Is this a fight, Nero? Are you challenging me?” Roxen's eyes thinned and his lips curled into a snarl. He preferred posturing to violence, and hoped this would deter his opponent. Nero was a strong fighter, but Roxen was a full head taller and more muscular. He could beat him if he had to, but did not want it to come to that.
“No. Not yet. I'd hate to rip you apart in front of Thera.”
“A wise choice, Nero.” Thera closed the distance to Nero, grabbing his arm. She whispered in his ear, but Roxen could not hear what she said.
To Roxen's surprise, Nero's face paled. He opened his mouth to retort, but seemed to think better of it. With a last hateful glance at Roxen and his mother, he and his followers walked to the trails. Thera returned to Roxen’s side.
“What did you say to him?”
She frowned, her gaze focused in the distance. “I reminded him that I know his secrets, and that if he ever harmed you,” she inhaled sharply, “the rest of the pack would learn them, too.”
Roxen knew there was no point in asking what Nero's secrets were. “You didn't have to threaten him. I had it under control.”
“I have no doubt, my son. But a mother worries nonetheless. Now, back to our conversation.” She smiled, taking his hand. “You will see your friends soon. Have faith.”
“I want to,” Roxen said. “But I keep thinking how miserable they both must be. Rayna can't stand Rhael. The morning before Rhael convinced her that marrying him would protect Fenear, Channon and I came upon them talking. I've never seen Rayna so pale, so shaken.”
“What do you mean? What did he say to her?” Thera’s smile collapsed into a hard line.
“I didn't hear the whole conversation. Something about being sorry for her mother's death, hoping his presence did not stir up old nightmares–”
“What?” Unexpected urgency strained Thera's voice. “You're certain he spoke of both Mya's death and nightmares?”
“Yes. I didn't hear the whole conversation, but I'm sure he did. Why does that matter?” Roxen’s face betrayed his confusion, and Thera's gentle smile returned, though it seemed false. “It’s nothing for you to worry about. I need to speak with the Alphen.” With that enigmatic statement, Roxen’s mother left him standing outside Channon’s vacant den.
Bayne sat by his hearth, his eyebrows bunched low over his forehead. The fire danced before his gaze, the shimmering red flames reminding him how steep the price of peace could be. A letter rested by his knee. Rayna had been in regular correspondence with them over the past three weeks, sharing her interest in the Maenoren culture, and her excitement over having set a date for the wedding. The first day of winter, she had written, to celebrate this new beginning. There were less than six weeks until he would see her again, but to him it seemed a lifetime.
Silver watched him from where she stood by the mantel, her seafoam eyes concerned.
“Bayne.” Silver took his hand. “When I was Rayna’s age, I made a choice my father was certain I'd regret when I chose you as mate. He was wrong. As difficult as it is, we must trust Rayna to make her own decisions.”
“That,” said Bayne, “was different.”
“Of course it was. Rayna does not love Rhael. But this choice must be her own.”
“It wasn’t her choice. Rhael made her think it would prevent Fenear and Maenor from falling into another war.” He shook his head. “Giving Rayna the choice between her own happiness and the safety of others is giving her no choice at all.”
“I know,” Silver said, “but perhaps we’re both wrong, as my father was wrong about us. Perhaps Rhael will prove himself worthy of Rayna. Only time will tell. No grudge is worth the loss of more lives. Ending this war is the right path. Besides, Channon is with her. They are safest when they're together.”
“That may be, but I should have planned against this, made it clear that Rayna was not an option.”
“Then Nero would have been right. We cannot afford to show that kind of nepotism.”
“I would rather Nero be Alpha than Rayna be in that man's clutches.”
Silver's eyes widened. “You don't mean that. As much as we need Rayna, this country needs you, Bayne. The pack only flourishes when the Alpha is strong and gentle. Nero would be a tyrant. You remember when he was my father’s Beta–when he tried to court me. He's too cruel to lead.” Silver's voice caught, and Bayne regretted his words.
“I'm sorry, Silver. I just can't stand the idea of Rayna's misery. We promised to raise her, to protect her, should anything happen to Aquillo and Mya. How can we when she is leagues away?”
Silver placed her hand on his cheek. “Rhael agreed to the terms. His bride had to be willing. No matter what, she will always have a way out.”
Bayne wrapped his arms around her. “I just hope she takes it.”
“That will be up to her.” Silver pulled away and took another letter from the mantel. “Georg and Declan report that Rhael has honored the treaty provisions regarding the border. He's expanded the no-man’s land to a half-league and recalled most of the troops stationed there.”
Bayne tried to push thoughts of his niece aside to focus on policy matters. The image of her tear-stained face as she bade them goodbye would not leave him.
“Have Georg and Declan lessened our patrols?”
“Reluctantly.” Silver returned the letter to the mantel. “We've also received word from General Pheros. Beginning this month, all trade between Alvorn and Fenear shall cease. But as Rhael said, we can import our steel from Maenor instead.”
“Maenoren steel is nothing compared to ocean-tempered Alvornian blades.” He glanced at the oversized dagger hanging from his belt. The Alvornian steel blade had been a present from Silver’s father, Eron, once he had finally decided Bayne was good enough for his youngest daughter.
“True, but we don't use much steel anyway.”
“Aye, but–”
A voice outside their den interrupted him. “Alpha Bayne? Alphena Silver? May I come in?”
“Of course, Thera.” Silver pulled back the flap.
“Thank you.” Thera bowed her gray-streaked head, and Bayne led her to a willow bark chair.
Once she was seated and had declined Silver’s offer of sassafras tea, Bayne spoke. “Can we help you with something?”
Thera lacked her usual serenity. She picked at her nails and did not meet their gazes.
She took a deep breath. “I should have told you this the moment Rhael singled out Rayna, but I thought it more important to keep my word than to…” She trailed off with a sigh.
“Thera?” Silver knelt beside her. “Are you trying to tell us something about Rayna?”
Bayne stared at the Lead Healer, the woman who had been his mentor's mate, the woman he trusted more than almost anyone. What could she possibly have hidden?
“Yes. About Rayna, and Mya, and your family in general, Silver.”
“What?” Bayne and Silver spoke the word together.
“Perhaps you ought to make that tea for yourself and Bayne, Silver. It’s a long story.”
Bayne must have paced their den a thousand times as Thera told of Mya’s prophetic dreams, how she had made Thera shield Rayna from them. At first, both he and Silver had difficulty accepting the story. How could Mya have kept something so huge from them? But the more Bayne remembered, the more Thera’s words made sense. He had noticed a change in Mya after Aquillo's death. He had expected it; the love of her life had been cut down right after their child's birth. However, it was not only grief he had seen, but guilt and rage. It made sense now that she had reacted to seeing Aquillo’s death prophetically and being unable to stop it. He also remembered a conversation he'd had with Mya and Silver a few months before Mya's death. Seemingly out of nowhere, she had made them promise to raise Rayna if anything happened to her. He had thought it a sudden request, but Bayne and Silver loved Rayna. Of course they would care for her if Mya could not. His words had soothed Mya, and again he had thought her behavior strange. Now, more than twelve years later, he had the truth. Mya had known she was going to die. She had known that Bayne and Silver would become Rayna’s guardians and had wanted to prepare them.
Silver stood, her seafoam eyes wet. Bayne cradled her head against his shoulder.
“She should have told me.” Silver sniffed. “I could have helped her, or at least prepared Rayna better.”
Thera shook her head and squeezed Silver’s hand. “Your sister loved you. She wanted to protect you, like she wanted to protect her daughter. Powerful and fierce as you are, Silver, nothing could have changed what Mya saw. That is the curse of her gift. Of Rayna’s gift.”
Hearing his niece’s name returned Bayne to the present with a sharp lurch. “Rayna. We have to send for her return.”
“What?” Silver wiped her eyes.
Bayne turned to Thera. “That’s why you decided to tell us, is it not? You’re worried she may have visions despite your tonic?”
“But why wait until now to tell us? Rayna left weeks ago,” said Silver.
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