by K. A. Linde
“No, I’m starting to think that you don’t.”
“We were trained for war. I pulled you out of that war camp in the mountains not to protect you. I never intended to coddle you. It was to train you to be a soldier in whatever form that came. And this—this—is our war. It’s the one we’ve been fighting since the moment we defected.”
“My whole life has been a battle, Tristen,” she growled at him. “I know that the cause is just, but I don’t think this is how we are best utilized. Just because the rest of the Guild is fighting for Malysa doesn’t mean we should fight in the same manner for Cyrene.”
“And I don’t intend to.”
Haeven turned away from him and stared at the tent wall. She was shaking. She’d endured more than most. Seen more than everyone. Many thought her empty or devoid of emotion. But in truth, she was overflowing with it. She had just learned to shield it from everyone. Everyone but him.
“I’m tired of fighting.”
“I know,” he said, coming up behind her but not touching her. Touch was something requested but never freely given without that consent. “This is the last one. After this…we’ll retire.”
She snorted. “No, you won’t.”
“Livia,” he breathed her real name, the name only he knew, like a prayer, “we will come out of this together. I promise.”
Then he placed a kiss on her shoulder, a daring move. She allowed it…and more.
The camp was silent.
Or as silent as Cyrene had ever heard it.
One by one, she had seen her friends disappear into their tents. Most in pairs or even threes. They all knew this was the last night they might have together. Tomorrow…was war.
Still, Cyrene was restless.
Only the night guard remained on duty. Looking out in case Kael was stupid enough to try to attack them at night. Her gaze shifted to the castle, as she envisioned him up there in his fancy bed. She couldn’t feel the bond. So, she couldn’t pinpoint his exact location. But still, she could sense him in her own way. He was the only one who blazed with as much power as her. Even from this distance.
Tomorrow, it would be the beginning of the end.
A battle years in the making.
And it kept her out of bed when she knew that she should get as much sleep as she could. Replenish her magic and wake up, ready to go.
But she felt as if she was leaving something unfinished.
Her feet carried her back toward her tent. Not into hers, but the one next to it.
She took a deep breath and then stepped inside.
Dean whirled around, magic at the ready. Then he saw it was her and released it. “Cyrene.” He was shirtless. The waistband of his pants undone slightly. His hair was tousled and wet as if he had just doused it. He looked…incredible. “Is everything all right? Can I help you?”
“Yes,” she told him.
She took another step in, letting the flap close behind her.
He arched an eyebrow. “Yes, everything is all right or I can help you?”
“Both.” She took another step forward, looking into those brown eyes. “I wanted to talk to you.”
“What about? I think we covered all the strategy for tomorrow. Did you want to go over it one more time?”
“No. I want to talk about us.”
He remained perfectly still. “You’re ready to talk about us?”
She nodded. “I think…I’ve been ready for a while.” As she got closer, she had to tilt her chin up to meet his gaze. “You saved my life more times than I can count these last couple of months. We’ve worked as partners for much, much longer than that. I’ve been guarding myself. I was worried that it would shatter all over again. That I wouldn’t be able to handle that happening again.”
“I would never…”
She held up her hand. “I know. We’re both different people than we were when we fell in love in Eleysia, Dean.” She laced their fingers together. “But I still love you.”
“Cyrene, you’re not going to die.”
“No, I’m not. This isn’t about that. This is about how I feel for you. I’ve been keeping you at a distance. It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. And all it has done is hold us back. But I’m done with that.” Her gaze was steady. “I love you, Dean. You’ve always had my heart.”
“I love you, too,” he said with the first real smile.
She reached into the pouch she always kept the portaling coins in and withdrew a ring. A ring with a large oval diamond on the gold filigreed band with smaller diamonds and tiny Eleysian onyx pearls. The ring that Dean had used to propose to her that day in Eleysia at the Bride of the Sea ceremony.
“You…you kept it?” he asked in shock.
“How could I get rid of it? I said yes once. I meant it when I said it.”
He took the ring from her finger. “And now? Do you still wish to marry me?”
She nodded once. “If we make it through this war…yes. That is what I want.”
“We’ll make it,” he said as a promise as he slipped the Bride of the Sea ring back onto her finger, where it fit perfectly. “And I’m going to marry you.”
She hadn’t come for promises. She hadn’t come for confirmation that they would make it. Because it was entirely possible that, when this was all said and done, neither of them would be alive to fulfill the promise.
But it was worth it to hear him say it. To know that he believed it.
Because all she had really wanted was to get it all out in the open.
She had been holding on to it for too long. Far too long. And it had been cruel to make him wait to hear the truth from her. She had thought it too soon. That she needed more time. That she wasn’t ready. That she wouldn’t let Malysa push her into this. But tonight wasn’t about that. It was about them.
She threaded her fingers up into his hair and drew his lips down to hers. His hands ran down her backside to her thighs, easily hoisting her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist, which only drew them closer and closer.
So close that she was sure she couldn’t feel anything but one heart beating between the two of them.
This wasn’t their first time. But a renewing. Remembering the feel of the other’s body. Discovering the planes of his abdominals and the curve of her waist.
They discarded their clothing and fell back onto the cot. She laughed as it creaked under their weight. This wasn’t how she had pictured it. But, with him hovering over her and all the love in his eyes, she was certain it was better than she could have imagined. Better than the innocent love when they had first been together. Better than an engagement boat on the water. Better than starting a hurricane.
And, as he filled her, she felt their magic mingle. A link forming between them, not unlike being bound. But of their own making.
A choosing.
A claiming.
For this was becoming one.
She kept her eyes open and saw that he felt it, too. This inexplicable bond forged between them. One that she had no intention of breaking anytime soon.
There was a war on the horizon.
But she hadn’t planned on sleeping anyway.
48
The War
Cyrene rose at dawn and assembled the troops to face off with Byern. She was decorated in the light Hohl armor that the Tyghan soldiers had walked out of Aleut in. Someone had gifted it to her for protection on the front lines. For she refused to stand back and watch as she sent troops in.
And all she saw was line after line of Byern soldiers. Humans. Her own people. Some might even one day show Doma magic. It might run in their veins and produce children with it. It was a travesty. One she wished that she could avoid. But Malysa had made this happen.
Cyrene amplified her voice with her magic as she trotted up and down the line of her soldiers on her Eleysian stead. “The enemy sides with a corrupt king. He murdered the one true king and forced these soldiers into subjugation. He works for an evil goddess set on
ruling all, destroying Byern and all you hold dear. They fight for a murderer. A puppet king. And he does not deserve the throne.”
Her soldiers cheered and sneered at the opposing forces.
“We fight for the good of all. The right to have magic out in the open and not be punished for it. To rule ourselves!” She reached for another small pouch she had filled before leaving Fen. She smeared the ash down her forehead. “We live and die by the ash! We will defeat our enemies!” She raised her sword high. “Ash Doma!”
The soldiers took up the chant. Ash Doma. Ash Doma. Ash Doma!
Cyrene trotted around to face the opposing forces.
And as their song rang true, Cyrene pointed her sword toward Byern and shouted, “Charge!”
She cantered into the melee, driving ahead of the foot soldiers as she collided with the first row of Byern soldiers. Her blade sliced through its target with ease. One after the other after the other.
A sea of dead bodies.
Her countrymen fighting against her.
Dying because of her.
And yet, she would not stop.
Not now. Not ever. Not until Malysa was defeated and Cyrene’s people had a place in this world.
Then she felt it.
Blood magic.
Not hers. Not even Kael’s.
She rose in the stirrups and let her gaze sweep beyond the soldiers at her feet. Which was when she saw that great wave of blood magic. A gasp rose from her lips. Kael hadn’t just been creating an army. He had been creating an army of sacrifice. These soldiers would feed the real troops waiting behind. The men and women he had converted to blood magic, who would now feast on their fallen brothers and sisters.
Cyrene was horrified.
She knew that Kael had tried to convert her to blood magic. But it was another thing to force an entire portion of his army to it. That cursed magic was stolen magic, and it fed on the soul. Those who used it for too long could have their soul fractured so completely that they could even lose it entirely. She was horrified.
And she hadn’t prepared for that.
She hadn’t expected to be fodder for more blood magic. And she would need to figure out how to stop them.
Then a soldier tried to unseat her from the saddle, and she was back in the fray. Right now, she had to just stay on her horse and drive the soldiers back. The rest would have to wait.
Cyrene burst back into the war council tent. “It’s been three days, and we have nothing to show for it.”
“These battles can take months. Sometimes years,” Joffrey said from where he stood over a map with little figurines on it.
She wanted to throw all his little pieces to the ground, hand him a sword, and see how he’d feel about months of this battle if he were on the front lines.
“He’s right,” Avoca said hastily. Blood smeared her fighting leathers. She must have been pulled for a reprieve only recently as it hadn’t fully dried yet. “We knew this wasn’t going to be easy. We’re going up against the might of Byern and Malysa.”
“I know it isn’t going to be easy,” she said in frustration. “But all we are doing is feeding their blood magic with every death. Making the enemy stronger each and every kill on both sides. And, without burning myself out, I have no idea how to make them stop.”
“I know,” Avoca said, tugging on the bond. “What we need to do is make a push to get through the line and start to take out their magical users. If we can drive through their front, then we can stop feeding their army.”
“Yes. That sounds like a plan,” Cyrene said. “We’ll get the strongest among us to drive through the forces and then take out the secondary army.”
“Except,” Brendt cut in, “putting all of the best magical users in one place makes you a target. And we’ve assessed their numbers. They have triple what we have. Maybe more. Pushing through the army would leave you surrounded, cutting you off from reinforcements.”
Cyrene wanted to growl at him. Of course, it was logical. What he’d said made sense. But it also felt like they were doing nothing while people died all around her.
“Cyrene, you’re back,” Vera said, appearing in the tent. She was covered in blood, too. Blood of the injured where she had been working with Lady Cauthorn to help the healers the best she knew how. She stopped when she saw Cyrene though. “Are you hurt?”
Cyrene looked down at her own blood-coated clothing. “No. It’s not mine.”
“How are you doing with that?” Vera asked.
“With what?”
“The blood magic. It must be excruciating to hold it back, especially with the other users on the field doing the same. Tempting.”
Cyrene tilted her head and thought about that. “I…I actually haven’t noticed. I mean, I realize when the second army is pulling in magic, I can sense it. But it hasn’t affected me.”
Vera raised her eyebrows. “Really?”
“Yeah…I hadn’t thought about it. I’m so focused on the battle.”
“What does this mean?” Avoca asked. “Is she cured?”
“I’m not sure,” Vera admitted. “Cyrene is unique in this instance. No one has ever come back from blood magic. Perhaps the diamond is protecting you or strengthening your resolve.”
Cyrene touched the diamond. “That could be. Also, ever since I helped Ahlvie, I’ve felt…I don’t know…it sounds strange.”
“What?” Vera asked.
“So…full of light?”
Vera smiled and then pulled Cyrene into a hug. “You are the Heir.”
Cyrene laughed. “We’re getting blood everywhere.”
Vera stepped back. “True. Well, I’m glad it’s not a problem. Let’s hope it stays that way by the time you face Malysa.”
“Agreed.” Cyrene sighed. “I’m just so frustrated about the rest. I haven’t even seen Kael yet. He’s hiding out in his castle, waiting for us to weaken so that he can drop in.”
“Wars aren’t won in a day,” Vera told her. “Killing Kael is only a piece of the puzzle. Malysa is still waiting at the finish line.”
Cyrene nodded. She knew as much. But patience had never been a strong suit of hers.
“Allow me to pass!” a voice rang out at the tent flap.
“Generals only.”
“I am a messenger. I have a note for Cyrene. For…the Domina.”
Cyrene knew that voice. She rushed past Avoca and Vera. “Rhea!” She pushed through the tent and found her friend there. She crushed her in a hug. “What are you doing here?” She drew her into the tent and lowered her voice. “I thought you were with Fenix.”
“He left with Kael weeks ago. I haven’t seen him. I’ve been spying in the castle in his absence.”
“That sounds horribly dangerous. What’s going on? What’s happening in the castle?”
“Kael and Elea have married.”
Cyrene froze. “Truly?”
She nodded. “Malysa appeared at the end of the ceremony with Kaliana and Alessia in tow…as a wedding gift.”
Cyrene’s stomach twisted. “No. Oh Creator!” She had already believed them dead…but this was so much worse. “Has he…”
“No,” Rhea said sharply. “Elea told me that he hasn’t killed them. He put them up in apartments with an armed guard at all times. I have no idea what he plans for them.”
“I do,” she said grimly. “Blood magic. That was the wedding gift.”
“But there’s more, Cyrene.” Rhea withdrew a folded piece of paper. “I hadn’t heard from Fenix in so long. And then I found this this morning. I did everything I could to sneak out of the castle and get this to you. I knew you had to get it right away.”
Cyrene took the slip of paper from her. Fear and unease settled in her gut.
She unfolded the note and saw that scribbled on the paper was what looked to be a bunch of gibberish. But, underneath it, Rhea had apparently decoded the message.
* * *
New creatures in mountains.
Need to destroy.
No time to wait.
She suspects me.
—F
* * *
Cyrene shuddered at the last line. She passed the note to Avoca to read.
“We’ll have to send someone right away,” she told Rhea.
Rhea nodded urgently. “He’s in trouble.”
She could see how much it had taken out of Rhea to love Fenix after what had happened with Eren. After Kael had murdered him. And how much it pained her to have Fenix in the same kind of danger.
“We will get him back,” she told Rhea.
“Are you sure this is from him?” Avoca asked.
“It’s his handwriting and his code,” Rhea said.
“It just…we need to discuss this before we go running into another fight in the middle of the war,” Avoca said.
“We put Fenix in position for this reason,” Cyrene argued. “We cannot just abandon him.”
“It could be a trap.”
“It could be, but that does not mean that we leave him there alone. Plus, what of these beasts? If it was urgent enough for him to get this message to us, it could turn the tide of the war. Can we just ignore that?”
“We might have to,” Avoca said.
“Cyrene,” Vera cut in, “I know you don’t want to hear this, but this has Malysa written all over it. This is the sort of manipulation that she does. She embeds herself in this way. Pull you or someone else you care about away and then uses them to get to you. She wants to draw your focus away from where it matters—here.”
Rhea glanced between them all. “Did you not read what he said?” Rhea snatched back the letter. “She suspects him. Malysa suspects that he is double-crossing her. That means his life is in danger.”
Avoca sighed. “We realize. And, as callous as it sounds, Rhea, he knew what he was getting into when he agreed to go.”
“No,” she snapped. “No, you cannot just leave him to die.”
She glared at each of them in turn and then promptly fled the tent. Cyrene took a few steps after her, but Vera stopped her.