by Brenna Lyons
“You will take this from me. If I must do it this way, I will.”
“No,” Pauwel protested in a hoarse whisper.
Jörg sobbed as the memories poured in, unable to be silenced. All the compassionate things his rival was and did seared him. “What have I done?” he asked again.
As he skated on the edges of death, Pauwel’s will finally fell under his control. Jörg closed the wound a second time to fend off death for a few minutes more. He opened his wrist again.
“Drink,” he invited with a touch of coercion in his voice.
Unable to fight the push, Pauwel accepted his blood in return.
Jörg sent information to Pauwel with the flow of his blood. He would be a match for any elder, unworthy to take their lives as Jörg was unworthy, but more powerful in the knowledge that Jörg granted him. He held no knowledge back. Pauwel could not kill him, and whatever retribution he took, Jörg deserved.
He broke Pauwel’s hold and closed the wound. For a long time, the older man lay, barely breathing as his body began the adjustment necessary to the change.
When consciousness returned, KreuzStütze stared at him in confusion before realization sank in. He rent a heartbreaking scream into the whipping wind and started to sob. “You’ve damned me.”
“Yes,” Jörg admitted. “Your fate lies in Regana’s hands.”
“She will let me die. She must let me die, now,” he pleaded in a hopeless prayer to gods now unhearing of such as he.
“I will take you to her and let her decide,” he promised. Jörg hefted Pauwel over his shoulder with a heavy heart and sped to Regana.
* * * *
Pauwel felt sick. The motion was bad enough in his dizziness, but the knowledge of what he was now was worse. He could feel the change, and he hated every second of it. Veriel’s blood had leached into his veins and now coursed through him, searing every muscle as it sank into him.
“It would not hurt so badly, if you did not fight it,” Veriel counseled him.
“You expect me to accept this with no fight?” he asked acidly.
“You cannot stop it. You should let it happen painlessly.”
But, Pauwel wished it to be painful. How could he have done what he had? How could he have accepted the foul blood? “Will you kill me painlessly?” he shot back, annoyed with Veriel as much as himself.
“If that is what Regana chooses, I will. If she does not wish you to die, I will protect you with my own life. I will force you to live, if I must — for her.”
“I will not permit it,” he growled. “I will find a way to die tonight.”
“Only if Regana gives you leave,” Veriel countered stubbornly.
Pauwel closed his eyes as the landscape rushed by him. He wished the sour sensation in the pit of his stomach would allow him to be sick and rid himself of this poison even as he knew it was far too late for that. He spit to rid his mouth of the taste of Veriel’s foul blood, refusing to use the cleaning power he now knew and admit that small defeat by doing so.
Pauwel groaned, as Veriel dropped him to the ground, and opened his eyes to the sight of what was once his home.
Gawen stormed out toward them then stilled at the sight of Pauwel at the elder’s feet. His jaw tightened in fury that blazed around him, white light that hurt Pauwel’s changing eyes.
“Back off, beast,” Gawen commanded.
“Bring Regana to me. Her husband’s life lies in her hands,” Veriel requested in a voice that almost passed for cordial.
“Don’t do it, Gawen,” Pauwel pleaded. “Kill me now. Don’t allow him to hurt Regana again. Better a widow than married to me as I am.”
Gawen nodded miserably. “You’re sure?” he asked gently, his reluctance to be the one to slay his sister’s husband evident on his face.
“It’s too late for me. Don’t let Veriel play this game with her. Promise me, please.”
Gawen nodded again and started toward them.
“It’s no game,” the beast corrected him. “You can have her. She can choose your life. And you,” he motioned to Gawen, stilling his advance, “cannot best me. Unless you want to widow your wife and sister in the same night and leave both the children fatherless, you will stand down. It is Regana’s choice. Not his and not yours.”
“As this?” Pauwel demanded. “I will not live this way.”
“For her, you will, just as I will.”
Gawen wheeled around at a movement behind him and launched back into the house.
Pauwel sobbed as he realized that he could easily hear him trying to convince Regana to stay where she was. Her sobbing at the news that Pauwel would not survive what was done to him speared him.
“Please, don’t do this to her. Have you no heart?” he begged, but Veriel’s face was set in stone.
Gawen returned, looking angrier than ever. “You’ve already upset her, beast. I know you can hear it. Leave now and let me finish this.”
“You’ve not asked her,” he replied calmly. “You’ve not given her the choice I set. You told her that her husband is dead.”
“I am dead,” Pauwel countered. “I am lost to the sun, beyond redemption— I cannot even father children, now.”
“I am sorry I took those things from you. If I could give them back, I would. Had I known the truth— No, that is my fault, not yours. I had no right to take it that way. All I can give you is each other.”
“As a beast that lives by killing?”
“You don’t have to kill. Your sustenance need not even be human. I know.”
“What of the rest?”
“If Regana chooses you, you need not look any further,” he answered dispassionately. “If she doesn’t choose you, you will not live to concern yourself with it. I will kill you at any time she rejects you or is lost to you in any way. It is the least I can do.”
“Pauwel?” Gawen asked in confusion.
“Tell her the lifeless beast I am now. Tell her I wish her to set me free. If Regana commands it, Veriel will let me die. I must die. You know that.”
Gawen took a deep breath and nodded then stepped inside. Regana’s ragged cry cut through Pauwel’s soul.
She charged through the doorway, and Gawen grabbed her by the shoulders to make her halt. “You,” she spat at Veriel. “Can you do anything that does not ruin my life?”
“This is my fault, I know. I make bad choices where you are concerned, ones that hurt you when I should do better by you. There is no forgiveness for me. If I was not before, I am damned now.”
“Now, you ask me to condemn my husband?” Regana’s voice broke at the end, and she looked at Pauwel through tears.
“I ask nothing. I give you all I can give. You can still have him. Despite what Gawen told you, he will not be changed. Pauwel cannot give you more children. That, I wish more than anything I could change. He will not take meals with you. Otherwise, he will be the man you’ve always loved.”
Pauwel could see her wavering. “No, Regana. If the villagers discovered it, they would kill you and our child.” He smirked as Veriel flinched at the thought of her death — or of Pauwel claiming what he knew to be his son, he couldn’t tell. “The life he offers would be a lie. You know it would.”
Regana ran a hand over their child slowly, and Pauwel ached to do the same. “If I lose you, I die,” she whispered. “Who will protect our son?”
“Gawen has given his word already. He knows what needs done,” he assured her. “You can choose another husband if you wish. You should have a husband who can give you what I cannot.”
“Stop it! I will not choose again. I cannot.” She pushed free from Gawen’s grip and stormed toward him with her brother at her heels. “It is easy for you to choose death,” she accused.
“It is not, but I have nothing to offer you.”
Regana knelt to touch his face, but her amulet pushed her away. She landed unceremoniously on her backside, looking stunned and pained.
“You see? I am not even worthy to touch you no
w.”
Without warning, she tore her amulet off and threw it at Gawen. Regana launched into her husband’s arms.
Pauwel looked to Veriel fearfully, knowing he could not defend her when he was incapable even of standing. The beast nodded in understanding and stepped back to allow Gawen to step between him and the couple on the ground. Pauwel used the cleaning power, suddenly aware of the need not to let Regana touch any of that beast.
Regana ran her hands over his chest, and Pauwel felt a crushing rush of emotion.
“You can touch me. You are my protection.” She drew his hands to the mound of her pregnant belly. “Feel our son move. Can you give us up so easily? I can’t. Tell me you don’t want us, that you don’t love us, and I will let him kill you. But, answer me honestly,” she begged.
Pauwel nodded as he stroked his hands over their son. He smiled weakly as the baby beat at Regana’s belly near his hand. “He’s so strong,” he mused. “He will be a fine warrior someday.”
“Do you still want him?” she asked quietly.
He guided her up to kiss the pulsating spot of his son’s assault tenderly. “Nearly as much as I want you,” he reassured her. Pauwel couldn’t leave her. He’d find a way to be her husband somehow.
“Then, don’t make me choose your death,” she pleaded.
Pauwel met her eyes and ran a hand over her cheek, drawing her down to his mouth. She met his advance with passion, and his decision was sealed. Regana still wanted him as husband in every way.
“It won’t be the same,” he cautioned her. “To the world, I will be dead and you a widow. I cannot even be a father to our son once he is old enough to repeat what he sees.”
“But you can keep him safe from harm and be my husband?”
“If you would still have me.”
Regana met his lips again, brushing hers over them softly. “As far as I can tell, you’ve never been more tender. Why would I not want you?”
“Gawen?” Pauwel asked nervously.
“If it is Regana’s choice, I will support this plan as long as you are controlled,” he admitted.
“If you seek death, I will stop you,” Veriel warned. “Regana has made her choice.”
“I will not choose death as long as she will have me. I am printed. You knew I could not leave her if she asked,” Pauwel accused.
“Yes, I did,” Veriel admitted.
Chapter Twelve
501 AD
Regana watched the night coming eagerly. Andris lay nestled next to her breast, tired from his labor and sated on her milk. Pauwel would soon meet his son. As agreed, Gawen had given Andris his blessing and a KreuzStütze amulet as soon as Emecin freed him from her body.
Kethe and Thorald had left long ago for their own home, and Regana could read the sadness in the older woman’s eyes that she would not see her brother hold his son for the first time. Still, Thorald and the other villagers had no knowledge of how Pauwel came to her nightly, playing his hands over their growing son and making love to Regana before disappearing into the night to hunt beasts or prey to feed on. Some mornings, she woke to find a flower laid on the bed beside her and ached that Pauwel had not lain a fond hand on her cheek before going to ground and leaving her to face another day without him, that he could not do so because of the amulet she wore at all times when he was gone from her.
Now, only Gawen and Bavin stayed with her, waiting Pauwel’s arrival. Bavin, Kethe, and Anabilia were the only true humans entrusted with the knowledge of Pauwel’s half-life. While she was certain Emecin and Landric suspected, they never asked, never hinted at the possibility that Pauwel lived and shared her life. Bavin was the only one with the knowledge of Andris’ true parentage. Gawen decided that his wife would only become more and more suspicious if she was not told the truth, and despite Regana’s fears, she found the other woman nothing but encouraging.
Even the warriors, who still had no knowledge of her involvement with Jörg, had taken their time warming up to the idea of Pauwel as a beast. At first, the sight of the Lord KreuzStütze materializing to take the life of a turned beast or to send an elder to ground for up to a week had made them distinctly uneasy. Over time, they came to appreciate his assistance, admire his improved prowess, and even joke with him about a kill.
Gawen laughed lightly, and Regana looked at him in confusion.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Your husband is stirring, and he is — concerned,” he warned her. “He must have felt your son’s birth, but the pain and emotions translate outside the framework of the complete picture. He probably thinks you’re gravely wounded.”
Bavin sighed and placed her hand over the formidable swell of her belly. “She has been,” she countered. “You warriors enjoy spreading your seed well enough, but we women have to carry the young warriors. Believe me, that is no small task.”
Regana smiled as Gawen kissed his wife playfully and ran his hands over his son. The joke of the virility and potency of the warriors was well earned. Bavin seemed to have conceived the first night Gawen came for her. Gawen had wasted no time at attaining that goal, taking his mate for the first time the night after choosing, as Regana settled into life with her husband. Anabilia and Evfemia were with child at or soon after the joining ceremony. Until Regana gave birth that afternoon, all seven were carrying.
She swiveled her head around as Pauwel materialized, looking frantic and dangerous. His expression melted into one of shock and then into a wide smile.
“Come meet your son, Pauwel,” she invited, removing Andris’ amulet then her own and setting them aside.
He crossed to her and kissed her passionately before taking in the sight of their baby. “He’s perfect,” Pauwel crooned, playing his fingers over the chubby cheek of the sleeping infant.
“Yes, he is. Would you like to hold him?” she offered.
Pauwel sank to the bed beside her and took Andris from her arms. He ran his fingertips over the baby’s hands. “Big for a newborn,” he mused. “No wonder he caused you such pain.”
“It’s a wise man who says that,” Bavin assured her husband. “Remember that comment when I am the one sewn to heal.”
“Are you in much pain?” Pauwel asked quietly.
Regana smiled weakly. “It’s much better, now. Landric left me a willow tea.”
“Good. I’m—” His eyes widened and he settled Andris back into her arms abruptly. “Amulet,” he barked as Gawen drew his blades.
Regana fumbled with the baby’s amulet while Bavin dropped onto the bed and scooped Regana’s back over her head. Pauwel pressed one of his own blades from the belt hung over the bed into her hand, and Regana nodded mutely.
Veriel materialized at the foot of the bed in a fury. His features softened as he took in the group of women and babies huddled on the bed with their men standing guard over them. He reached toward Regana, but Gawen’s blade and Pauwel’s claws flashed up to block him.
He lowered his hand slowly. “You have to let me hold him,” he breathed. “Let me hold him just once, and I will walk away.”
Regana shook her head frantically and held Andris closer to her. “No. You can’t have him.”
“I won’t hurt him, Regana. Please — just this once,” he pleaded.
She was almost drawn in by the look in his eyes, but a picture of Pauwel half-dead at Veriel’s feet steeled her resolve. “No,” she insisted. “You won’t take him from me. I won’t let you.”
Regana looked from Pauwel to Gawen, and both men nodded in reassurance.
Pauwel faced Veriel. “Regana has made her choice. I had to live with the choice she made for me. You must do the same,” he decided.
“Her choice for you has been bliss. You have her love and her body. You have her child. I’m not asking for much, Pauwel. I could be happy with so little. Regana—”
“No,” she exploded, startling Andris. Regana tried to calm the baby, never taking her eyes from her enemy. “You can’t. I can’t trust you.”
&
nbsp; “I’ve always kept my word when I could,” he countered.
“You’ve never kept your word,” she replied miserably.
“I gave your husband back to you.”
“You took him from me. It was the least you could do to ease your conscience,” she spat. “You took away our ability to have more children. If you take my son, too— I will not allow you to take everything from me.”
Veriel nodded in tired resignation. “You are drained from your hard labor. I will ask another time.” He smiled a sad, tight smile. “He is beautiful, Regana. I would sooner die than allow him to come to harm. Perhaps some day, you may see that.” With that, he faded from view.
“Is he gone? Is he truly gone?” Regana asked, knowing the men could sense such things.
Pauwel and Gawen glanced at each other.
“Yes,” Pauwel snapped in irritation. “He’s gone.”
Regana nodded and handed the weapon to Bavin to sheathe for her while she scooped Andris’ amulet off then her own. “Good,” she decided. “Now, meet your son.” She placed him back into her husband’s arms. “I named him Andris.”
Pauwel bit back some strong emotion and nodded. “My father’s name. Thank you for that, Regana.”
She shivered as a sudden chill ran up her spine. Regana looked around and tried to find the source of the draft, but there was nothing she could see. Her heart started to pound, and she considered pulling Andris back to her chest, but Pauwel had only these precious few years and he would protect their son with his life.
“Are you all right?” Bavin asked.
Regana nodded uncertainly, though a dark sense of foreboding washed over her. Tonight would have repercussions. She knew it.
“Yes. I’m fine,” she managed.
* * *
Jörg felt Pauwel coming. Though he could, KreuzStütze did not ghost himself. He knew Jörg wanted to talk to him. Jörg had made that fact clear to him when he called Pauwel to him, so there would be an uneasy truce — for the moment. Jörg seldom forced his will on the other man. It would be dishonorable considering the circumstances, but his honor was tarnished beyond polishing now. Even Jörg was unsure how much of it remained tacked to his tattered soul.