“I love you, Rhys,” she breathed. “I love you so much. I only want you to be happy. Why can’t you be happy for me? I want us to be family, just like we always have been. We can’t be if you don’t make your peace with Silas.”
He shrugged and looked away. “I love you, too. I love you more than all the rest of the family put together. I want you to be happy. I never wanted anything else. I guess…I guess I can let it go if it means keeping you in my life.”
She collapsed against his chest. “Oh, Rhys! Thank you. That’s the best gift anyone could give me.”
He pressed his lips to her hair. “I never want to lose you.”
She clamped her eyes shut against his shirt. “I never wanted to lose you, either.”
A low chuckle interrupted her emotion. “And I sure as the dickens never want to fight you. Phew! You scared the pants off me just now.”
Natalie’s head shot up. When she caught him grinning, she burst out laughing. She snatched his hand. “Come on. Let me take you inside where you can talk to him.”
She towed him toward the door, but Rhys dragged his feet. “Aw, come on. Do we have to do this right now?”
“No time like the present,” she chirped.
She hauled him up the steps by brute strength. He struggled the whole way, but he didn’t put up much of a fight. He let her push him through the front door. The instant he crossed the threshold, the bubble of conversation died in the living room. The whole circle of Alphas and seconds turned around to stare at him.
Riskin took a step forward. “How dare you come in here, on this day of all days? Don’t worry, Silas. I’ll handle this.”
Riskin menaced his brother, but Natalie moved between them. She held up her hand to Riskin. “Rhys is here to make peace with Silas. He’s here to bury the hatchet, and to offer his condolences and his congratulations to the new Alpha.”
No one moved a muscle. Riskin’s face hardened.
Natalie half-turned to her brother. “Isn’t that right, Rhys?”
Rhys didn’t say anything, either. Daggers flew back and forth between him and Silas.
Natalie turned all the way around. She raised her voice ever so slightly. “Isn’t that right, Rhys?”
He couldn’t look at her. He lowered his gaze and nodded down at the carpet. Natalie turned back around to face Riskin. She took Rhys’s hand. “He’s ready. We just talked about it outside. He’s putting the past behind him, and he’s come to congratulate Silas on his marriage”
Riskin cocked his head. “Are you sure about this, Rhys? I need to hear it straight from you before I let you walk through that door.”
“I’m sure about it.” Natalie steered him forward to stand in front of Silas. Rhys shifted from one foot to the other. He still glanced right and left, but he got the words out in the end. “I’m happy for you. I don’t want anything but for my little sister to be happy in her new home. I hope we can…you know…bury the hatchet and all that. I hope we can make this marriage a good thing for both our families.”
The whole circle watched for Silas’s response. Even Natalie hung on his every facial expression. What would he do? Would he accept Rhys? Would he throw his new brother-in-law out on his ear?
Natalie hoped against hope that Silas would look at her. She had to show him, by the expression in her eyes, how much this meant to her. He had to accept Rhys. He had to do it for her. She couldn’t go through with this if it meant Rhys getting left out in the cold.
Silas didn’t look at her, though. He kept his eyes on Rhys. He measured and weighed everything Rhys said. He sensed, with the intuitive understanding innate in any Alpha, the truth and sincerity of Rhys’s words. Would it be enough?
All at once, Silas thrust out his hand. “I don’t want anything but for your sister to be happy, too. I’m glad to have you in my family. We can do great things together, you and me.”
Rhys frowned down at Silas's hand. Would he take it? Would he rekindle the old hatred all over again? How serious could he be when he said he wanted to bury the hatchet? He used Natalie’s words, not his own.
He shrugged his shoulders. That simple movement sloughed off the last of his stiffness. He grasped Silas’s hand and shook it.
In an instant, the talking erupted all over again. Riskin hugged Rhys. “I was hoping you would show up. We’re just talking about the Farrells’ timber operation. You know that part of the Peak. Maybe you can advise us.”
He drew Rhys into the circle along with the other seconds. In the blink of an eye, all the tension faded from the room. The conversation turned back to business. No one ever mentioned Rhys hating Silas again.
Natalie retreated to the kitchen where she could watch these men from a neutral distance. Those were her men over there—her mate, her brothers, her neighbors and friends. She knew each and every one of them. She loved them and cared for them. She would fight and die to make any of them happy.
Her love extended far beyond this room, all over Bruins’ Peak, to the very last corner of every house. That widening circle of care and concern spread to every child and infant, every aging couple, and every awkward teenager.
She was their mother, their protector, their she-bear. Nothing in the world came close to her belief in them. She called up hidden reserves from somewhere unknown to herself. Bruins’ Peak fed her and made her strong so she could care for these people. She could succor them and carry them through to the next generation.
*******The End.
Witch Academy Box Set (1-5)
Sarah J. Stone
95. Book 1: The Missing Queen
Chapter 1
Desmond awoke with a start, his body tensing up. It took him a moment to figure out exactly what the problem was, his magic finding its way up to his brain.
He realized after a moment that it was a crash from his kitchen that had woken him. However, the presence that he sensed was not anything that would cause him harm. His dishes and food supply might be in danger, but he was not.
Running a hand over his face, he tried to pull the sleep from his eyes, glancing at the time piece. He was planning to get up now anyway; the alarm would beep after a moment or two. It was later than he normally got up, but he didn't have anywhere to be for another hour.
“Nathaniel,” he said as the door to his chambers whooshed open at his touch. “What are you doing?”
His former Tiro looked up at him, a piece of toast in his mouth.
“You're awake.”
Desmond raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe.
“You think I can't still sense when you are causing chaos? Eleven years of training you, Nathaniel. I promise that the bond is not broken yet.”
Nathaniel smirked as he searched for more bread, and Desmond decided it was a losing battle. Besides, he was meeting Mariah for breakfast anyway, so he didn't need food here.
He had trained Nathaniel for eleven years as his third Tiro, readying him as a full-fledged witch; the guardians of the galaxy. Magic was dangerous and destructive if not controlled and well trained, and those born with it often didn't survive it unless they were taken from their families and devoted their life to its control. Witches, who were taken to the academies around the galaxy and trained by Maestros, became warriors, guardians, peacemakers, and healers. They were well respected, strong, and completely devoted to keeping the galaxy safe.
It came at a price, of course. They rarely, if ever, saw their families again. They were not supposed to form attachments or have families of their own. They were completely devoted to their craft and their quests. When they were young, they were usually devoted to their Maestros. When they came of age, they were put through a series of rigorous tests that determined whether they could go off on their own and become a new generation of Maestros.
There were exceptions to every rule, of course. Tiros were supposed to be in the academy from the time they started walking, and they needed to be with a Maestro by the time they were thirteen if they wanted to be able to
take the tests. Otherwise, they remained at school until eighteen and could work in a minor role. Any time after eighteen, they could take the tests and become a full-fledged witch.
Desmond knew that he and Nathaniel had broken almost every single one of those rules in their years together. It wasn't necessarily on purpose, because he didn't always believe in everything the Jurors dictated. But Nathaniel had been almost fourteen when Desmond finally took him on after a disastrous last Tiro. Nathaniel was stubborn, mouthy, and more interested in fun half the time. Desmond knew Nathaniel would never be the serious, quiet, thoughtful Witch that was expected. Nathaniel was twenty-four when he finally took the tests, passing with flying colors in everything except his attitude.
Now, nearly two years later, they remained at the academy. Nathaniel was teaching some of the classes, and Desmond sat on the Jurors part time, dealing with the intergalactic issues that came their way. Both of them were expected at some point soon to take on a Tiro. But after a bumpy eleven years, Nathaniel didn't seem quite ready to be self-sufficient
Desmond, despite being technically free of a Tiro, found it hard to find time for himself and Mariah – not that he publicly wished for it.
The first day Desmond saw Mariah was nearly thirty years ago. They had both been young witches on their first Tiros. They had locked eyes across the room, and Desmond knew that he was in trouble.
Neither of them had broken any rules, at least in public. But as they started to age toward retirement with a quiet life of advising only in their near future, he found it harder to make sure they were in line and not just existing in a grey area that the Jurors raised their eyebrows at.
He knew Nathaniel was aware of the fine line he walked and took it as challenge. No matter how much Desmond tried and scolded, Nathaniel had always had eyes for women. He wasn't discreet either, and more than once, he had been called in front of the Jurors for disobedience.
Desmond's only solace was that, as Nathaniel got older, he seemed to be settling down and focusing his attention on the one woman he came back to again, and again. A quest on Jeffro – a border planet – had introduced the fifteen-year-old Nathaniel to the seventeen-year-old orphaned ruler, Queen Eliza. She was just as head strong, stubborn, and in control of her emotions as he was. Desmond pretended to not hear the late-night hologram fights they had over the years, and pretended not to hear Nathaniel's thoughts when they were doing well. As long as he was focused on his duties, Desmond could turn a blind eye. And, he noticed, no matter how hard they fought, they always returned to each other. They fought in a way that acknowledged that ending their relationship was never an option.
It was admirable, in a way, except neither of them were supposed to be even thinking of romantic love.
This life was not an easy one, but it was worth it for the greater good. Despite being two of the most powerful warrior witches in the galaxy, they were still only human.
“Are you going to the showcase today?” Nathaniel asked. “I saw them setting up this morning.”
“I might,” Desmond answered, watching Nathaniel eat his way through half a loaf of bread. The showcases were bi-annual and meant to show off the skills of young witches who were hoping to find Maestros. They came from the various academies to go the headquarters, and it was usually impressive. Desmond wasn't quite sure he was interested in taking another one, though. If he was truthful, Nathaniel had been difficult at best. Desmond would technically age out before another Tiro came of age. He and Mariah had loose plans to not take another one, retiring together. Not that he could tell anyone of that, he knew.
Right now, his biggest concern was getting Nathaniel out of his kitchen. “Is there something wrong with the cafeteria? Or your own kitchen, perhaps? Your room is down the hall, Nathaniel. Surely your own kitchen is closer.”
“I have to teach in ten minutes,” Nathaniel protested. “There's no time to wait in the cafeteria or make my own food. You always have something ready.”
“In case I need to grab something swiftly,” Desmond replied. “I don't usually keep you in mind.”
“I love how prepared you are, Maestro,” Nathaniel grinned. “I didn't have time last night.”
“Why? You finished class at seven p.m.” Desmond raised an eyebrow. “What did you do with your evening?”
“Eliza called,” Nathaniel admitted. “It was a long call.”
“I'm sure it was,” Desmond said. “Go to class. If the professor is late, it says something.”
“See you.” Nathaniel finally finished chewing and took off, leaving Desmond to shake his head. Nathaniel's appetite had not changed since he was fifteen, nor had his energy or his attitude. It was amazing how different they were. Nathaniel's dream was to be on the Jurors, where Desmond couldn't think of a more boring way to live life. Although Nathaniel was successful and well respected, Desmond sometimes wondered where he went wrong as a Maestro.
He tied up the bread bag, putting the dishes in the sink before going to get dressed. He always got Mariah from her room if they were having a meal together, as the hallways were crowded. Mariah had been blinded nearly ten years ago, and although she was very proficient with her magic, using it to see rather than her eyes, he still worried about her. Her last Tiro, Nathaniel's childhood best friend, had graduated early, and Mariah had been working within the safety of the academy ever since. Desmond worried every day she took a minor quest, even though he knew she was just as strong as the first day.
His com-link buzzed as he was finishing getting dressed, and he saw it was Thomas, one of the permanent members.
“I'm not expected for another two hours,” he answered, finishing the buttons on his old shirt.
“I know,” Thomas replied. “I'm not calling because I don't know how to tell time.”
“Good to know,” Desmond answered. “What can I do for you?”
“There was a ship coming from a border planet that had some terrible turbulence. It was full of showcases attendees, and some were injured. Can you stop by the med bay to sign off on their participation? The professor is insistent that they participate, and I'm not sure he's taking their physical state into account.”
“These off-world professors,” Desmond said, shaking his head. “They count their success on the amount of Tiros that get trained, regardless of consequence.”
“I'm aware,” Thomas said. “Will you do it?”
“In an hour,” Desmond replied. “I have plans currently.”
“Doing what?”
“I have plans,” Desmond repeated. “But I will be there.”
Thomas sighed. “Fine,” he answered, not willing to fight. “I'll see you later.”
“You will,” Desmond said, and hung up. He knew that walking the grey areas of magic often landed him with tasks like this, but it was a small price to pay to mostly do as he pleased.
Mariah was ready when he came to the door, looking beautiful despite a plain outfit. Her hair was pulled back, and he was used to the scarring around her eyes that had caused the blindness. Once bright red, the scars were now pure white, crisscrossing her eyes and causing his heart to ache whenever he saw her. She was still beautiful, but he hated that he had not been there to help her.
“Good morning,” Mariah said, knowing exactly where to look. “You're troubled today.”
He smiled, always impressed by how sensitive her magic was.
“It could have been Thomas calling to ask me something ridiculous,” he replied. “Or it could be that Nathaniel showed up and ate half of my fridge before dawn.”
“So, a normal day, then?” She smiled at him, closing the door behind them. He took her arm, the shivers going down her spine. The only good thing about her blindness was that they could now touch in public under the guise that he was guiding her.
“A normal day, lately,” he said, shaking his head. “Nathaniel has such pent-up energy since we've returned. When we were working, he could exhaust himself by the end of the day. We worked from dawn to dus
k, and I usually didn't hear a peep from him after ten p.m. But here, just teaching during the day and having nothing to do in the evenings doesn't suit him. And yet he does nothing about it.”
“Desmond,” Mariah said softly with the patience of a mother. Their Tiros were the closest thing to children they would have in a life they could only dream of having. “He's not ready to leave you.”
“He's taken the tests,” Desmond replied, “and he was physically ready to take them years ago. I know his self-sufficiency is still an area he struggles with, but he will not last long here before he gets into trouble. There's already a pretty blond Maestro that I see him eyeing.”
“Are we ones to talk?” Mariah asked, and he sighed.
“He's not discreet, Mariah.”
“At that age,” she said softly, “I'm not sure we had learned how to be, either.”
Chapter 2
“Mariah.” Her former Tiro and Nathaniel's childhood best friend, Sybil, touched her arm gently as they were finishing their breakfast in the cafeteria. Humanoid with green skin and a need for a watery environment more often than not, it had been Sybil that they thought would be more difficult to train than Nathaniel. But Sybil had proved a quick study and quick to adapt, and had taken the tests at nineteen, several years before Nathaniel. Today, she had her own Tiro and was rising fast. “How are you?
“I am well,” Mariah said, still feeling a bond with her former Tiro. “I thought you were back last night. Was it successful?”
“Simple search and rescue,” Sybil replied. “Easy to locate the target with just a small bit of magic. Anyone could have done it.”
“You are modest,” Mariah praised her. “And your Tiro?”
“Already itching to go out again,” Sybil replied. “How are you, Maestro Desmond?”
“I am well, Sybil,” he replied. “It's been a quiet week, so a chance to reflect.”
“Are you two going to the showcase?” Sybil's eyes lit up. “We're going just to watch.”
Sybil had grown up in the center of the relationship between the two of them, and while she didn't agree with the grey line they walked, she was well aware of it. She knew it would take wild horses to separate them when they had every opportunity to be together.
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