Timeless (Maiden Of Time Book 3)

by Crystal Collier

  Finally time to be moving again.

  Nine

  Without Time

  Alexia’s knees faltered. She landed against weathered stone, hidden by shadows as deep as her shock.

  Kiren had lied to her.

  Her Kiren.

  She hugged herself, frozen in his loss anew. He’d said he wouldn’t be here, and yet here he was…in a fashion. Unless they’d never met in his past. What if he hadn’t known, because she was altering history for the first time? Except her daughter had been born into the past—that much she knew. What if Kiren simply didn’t remember her from the past—if something had happened that claimed his memory, or one of the Passionate took it? She was stretching for a plausible excuse now. She recognized that, but she couldn’t reconcile that he would keep this from her.

  It didn’t make sense.

  She set the scrolls down and unrolled one but couldn’t focus on the words. Her mind kept spinning reasons, but none of them added up.

  Alexia stepped out of time, to its absence—the one place she could truly escape the world. Minutes didn’t count against her here.

  The breeze ceased. Silence reigned. She turned to find Grandfather watching her. She’d discovered him, a prisoner in the absence of time after she came to this timeline—taking the place of her long-dead mother in a realm only her family could occupy. He was the rightful guardian of time in this era, but he’d stepped into this abyss for the short duration she would occupy the thirteenth century. Many times she’d postulated what had become of his physical body, but she’d only anticipated being in the past a short time. Now she questioned if she’d overstayed her welcome.

  He tucked his hands in the girdle of his tunic, shoulders rounded and relaxed, cocoa hair veiling his ears and coal-like eyes. Kind eyes. From the quirk in his cheek and the way skin creased in happy lines around his eyes, she felt certain she’d met him before—perhaps in the future—though she had yet to connect him to anyone.

  His head bobbed in greeting, fingers tapping out a rhythm against his leg as if it were hard to stand still.

  “He was not supposed to be here,” she said.

  “Mm.” He nodded. “But he is, and like it or not, here he will stay.”

  She brushed a tear off her cheek and straightened up. This flustered state would not do. She had an important mission and she would accomplish it. “There is a traitor.”

  “Aye.”

  “Why did you not warn me?”

  The man laughed. The chugging sound tugged at something in her memory, but it was too firmly buried. Laughter never was far from him. She wondered how he had weathered his decades and still found reason to be jovial. In her near twenty years she had seen so much sorrow.

  “You know the rules well as me.”

  She did. Her mother, Dana, had refused to reveal anything to come while in the absence of time because of how it would alter her future. A traitor or not, there must have always been a traitor in this time. It meant nothing but that she had to be more careful and find this person out.

  “I could speed through time to see what will happen,” she warned. “Then return to this moment.”

  He nodded. “And imperil yer child.”

  Dana had warned her about that as well—the dangers of speeding time. She could hasten the moments, but that would mean placing herself at the mercy of whatever changed in the world around her. If a horse came barreling through the spot she occupied, she would die. And her child with her.

  “I could dream the future.”

  “Always,” he agreed. “But where be the fun in that?”

  She gave him a look. Fun? How about survival? A new thought hit her: when she had this baby, Kiren’s gift might be able to save her. And her baby. Perhaps his being here was a blessing.

  “Do I dare trust him?” she asked.

  “Why not ask him?” Grandfather pointed.

  She squinted at him then turned. Outside of frozen time, Kiren was stationary in the trees, one foot lifted in approach.

  He was so beautiful, the smooth quality of his skin, the sharp angle of his cheekbones, the perfect line of his nose. Her soul reached for his, wishing he was hers, needing as much of him as she could have in the little time that remained for her.

  “I do believe I will. Goodbye, Grandfather.” Alexia resumed her seat, the same spot she’d occupied before stepping out of time. She settled back into the ticking seconds.

  A shadow draped over her. She straightened up, squaring her shoulders and suppressing the flutters in her stomach. He met her gaze, his as blue as midnight, a boundless sky promising terrifying storms as much as starlight. He stiffened, as though what he’d come to say could no longer be said.

  She lifted a barrier over her thoughts and stared him straight in the eye.

  “You know my name?” he asked.

  Alexia closed her eyes and let the sound of his voice penetrate her, let it move her as it had in the past. The depth of her mistake struck her like a jackhammer. Kiren had guarded his identity with a zeal that put King George’s palace guard to shame. If he did so in this time as well…

  “Yes,” she replied. How could she deny it? She had used his name to address him.

  He cocked his head, stepping closer, his eyes both amused and wary. “How?”

  Alexia struggled up off the ground. If he was asking, this must be an age after the loss of his family and kingdom. Otherwise, his name would be known among the dignitaries of the world as the arising prince. Her heart ached for him, the depth of his loss. How heavily it must weigh on him even now, bearing him to the ground with the force of ten men.

  “You told it to me.”

  His foot slid back, his lips parted. He shook his head. “I would never—”

  “I apologize for kissing you.” She pulled in her emotions, grunting as she steadied on her feet.

  He squinted at her. “Yet you do not claim to have mistaken me for another. We have met?”

  She could see his mind working, stumbling back over the hundreds of faces he’d encountered and searching for hers. “Not yet.”

  He leaned back from her.

  She curtsied. “I am Alexia, the Maiden of Time. If you have come to join our struggling band, we could certainly use your gifts.”

  His head turned back toward the camp and his mouth opened like he was about to protest.

  Keep talking. Keep him from asking questions—at least until she’d figured out what to tell him. “Your gift for growth, for healing, your unique love for exotic flora, all are welcome. I pray you will not fear to let these people near your heart because of the danger it poses. They are worthy.”

  His fists locked, his brow twisted, shoulders turned inward. This was precisely how he’d stood the evening he’d given her up, locked in his own silent battle and broken by what he must do. He hissed in a breath. “You may know what I can do, but you do not know me.”

  Alexia stood to her full height, wondering if he would welcome her hand on his cheek, if she could soothe the ache in his stare. “Perhaps not yet, but I am most anxious to learn.”

  He stepped forward.

  She should back away, but she didn’t have enough willpower.

  He snaked a finger forward and tipped her chin up. “Why did you kiss me?”

  She averted her gaze. Her stomach clenched with the memory of that kiss, echoed by a hundred others. Kiren’s lips on hers. The heat of his passion filling her so fully she had no need to eat, to sleep. “It was a mistake.”

  His finger pulled away. He shook out his hand like he’d been stung. “Tell me about this future. When shall we meet?”

  Cerulean blue burned into her, drawing out her secrets like a searing prod thrust into water. Her struggle evaporated. She had no desire to stop him from her thoughts and every reason to welcome him in. His palm touched her cheek, and he drew everything in on a breath, her tortured existence for the last five months, her purpose here, the suffocating love that even now shattered her resistance.


  Kiren released her. He stumbled backward, head shaking. “No. This, this is not…” He slid both hands into his hair, denial and fury twisting his lowered brows. “It is a lie.”

  Alexia’s heart squeezed. She forged past her own pain to recognize his. Allowing him this glimpse proved that he would never recover his father’s throne, that he would wander for centuries until finally finding a love he clearly didn’t want. It was cruel. No person deserved to have their hopes dashed in an instant. Perhaps there was a reason Dana and Grandfather withheld what was to come from her.

  Alexia reached back in time one minute, to before she lost control. Blackness. Steadying on her feet.

  “Tell me about this future. When shall we meet?” he asked.

  “Do not touch me.” She backed away. Do not melt my resistance. “I know that trick too.” She closed her eyes to keep him out. He’d warned her she’d never be able to fully block her thoughts from him, not while gazing into one another’s eyes, but he was so magnetic. How could she succeed in keeping him out?

  He sucked in a breath, startled. “Is there anything you do not know?”

  What comes next. She hadn’t expected him to be here, and that might change everything. One wrong move and she might condemn their fates. Alexia tentatively met his stare. She wanted to answer him, but how could she do that knowing it might ultimately destroy him? His necklace felt especially heavy around her neck.

  Kiren’s brows crunched down. She realized too late that he was reading her. He lunged and caught her bodice, his fingers crimping around the medallion hidden beneath the material. His necklace from the future.

  His eyes widened.

  Alexia jerked time to a stop. The impact of what might have come next slammed her with the force of an axe. Her last thought about his untimely destruction—which he must have intercepted—along with her possession of his necklace must look like irrefutable proof of a coming assassination.

  The early dawn caressed his fingers, curled so intimately close to her heart. She wanted to linger, to allow this wishful closeness to permeate her being, but the terror in his eyes crushed the idea. His nose flared wide, teeth clenched. Here was a man to be feared, not loved.

  He must not know that she had his necklace. Ever.

  One more try. Alexia jumped back to the pivotal second. Pitch. Regaining balance.

  “Tell me about this future. When shall we meet?” he asked.

  She gave him a sad smile, meeting his gaze and solidifying a mental barrier that would keep even sunlight out.

  He stared deep and flinched, deflected. “That kiss. Have you agreed with someone to ensnare me?”

  The words stabbed. Oh Kiren, you will wreck so many hearts, but now it is your turn. “I am certain you are strong enough to resist.”

  “Ah, then I am correct.”

  “If that is what you choose to believe.”

  His jaw clenched and released. “You love me in this future?” It was a blind accusation, a fishing allegation. He was trying to get her to confess something or distract her enough to find the answers in her eyes.

  “Every woman loves you in this future, as I am certain they do at present.” Her cheeks flamed, both with jealousy and embarrassment.

  His smirk said it all. “I have no time or appetite for women.”

  “That will simplify things for us some.” She turned and gathered up her scrolls, gripping her heart with a tight fist. It was not a rejection. He didn’t know her. He didn’t realize that saying she bore no sway over him was nearly enough to crush her. She was just a woman like any other he’d met. “If you will excuse me, I have duties to attend.”

  “Who is your husband?” He was right behind her. “Or your lover?”

  How dare he accuse her of being an unchaste woman! She steadied the shaking from her voice. “I hardly see how that is any business of yours.” Even if it is. “You are welcomed in our company, but if you stay, do make yourself useful. I trust you can do that?”

  “Wait.”

  The word harbored a modicum of desperation, and she could hear herself in it—the frantic plea in her father’s garden ages ago when she had needed to know what she was. She couldn’t deny him.

  Alexia turned back. Her mouth instantly dried. He looked on her with an expression he had so often used, one where he peered to her very core. Do not stand so proud. Do not look at me that way. Do not be my Kiren in all but reality.

  His shoulders relaxed, his head tilted inquisitively. “I am pleased to know you, Alexia. I hope we shall become…friends.”

  The silent plea for more information in his posture too felt familiar, except this time they stood on opposite sides.

  “I should like that.” She inclined her head and turned to leave.

  He grabbed her arm. “You will kindly keep my name a secret?”

  Alexia recognized the same creases of pain that had always been around his eyes. “What happened to you?” she whispered.

  Guilt crinkled his brow and his teeth clenched.

  She pressed on. “I know how you lost your family and kingdom, but this is different. You fear these people?”

  His mouth worked, but no other words escaped. He released her, backing away. He turned, halted and looked back, almost said something, then shook his head and sped into the trees.

  Ten

  Warped

  When Kiren returned, Zeph mingled with the others, his wings fully visible, all attempt to hide his horns or tail abandoned. Relieved as he was to have his friend present, Kiren felt like he was stumbling across uneven terrain. He kept his gaze down and fought to get himself under control. His chest heaved. If he had wings like Zeph’s, they’d be ruffled, feathers pointing all different directions, making it impossible to fly. She knew about his kingdom. About his parents. About his heritage. The fact she knew his name was the least of his concerns.

  Her sorrow had been for him this time. For the death of his parents.

  Yes, Amos knew of his family line, as did a couple others. They’d overheard him telling Zeph that he belonged to the family of Kir in the confidence of friendship, but the depth of Alexia’s understanding outweighed them all. She knew about talents and interests he kept hidden. She’d addressed the silent battle he constantly fought.

  He would tell her his name in a time to come. In the future… He couldn’t quite make that concept settle. Would he tell her more than that, or did she know about him because she came from his home? That thought opened too many doors to even consider, but one predominant question must be answered: Was she a friend or foe? She played the friend, but he had mistaken others in the past.

  Alexia was new to this group of Lost Ones, at least, newer than when he’d last been with them. He needed to discover how she’d come to join them and if her actions had been calculated—grabbing his attention in a way he couldn’t ignore—or a simple accident.

  How could anyone accidentally kiss someone like that?

  He ran a hand through his hair, unable to smooth the way his pulse raced at the memory of her lips pressed to his.

  “You look like you are going to lose your stomach.” Zeph’s voice was a grounding agent, bringing him back to reality.

  “I might.”

  Wings flurried. “I am away from you moments, and you are as bad as before we left. You need to get away from here.”

  Kiren nodded, biting down. But first he had a line of injuries to mend—if he could calm himself enough to do any good. Even at full health, the number of injuries were more than he could heal in two days.

  Alexia returned from the trees, four scrolls tucked under one arm. Her cheeks were rosy, her shoulders back as if nothing of importance had occurred. Perhaps nothing had. The initial kiss must have been a simple mistake as she’d suggested. Her vision might be bad. He shouldn’t have followed her into the trees, but even now he needed to close the distance and uncover the mystery of her actions.

  “That is a change.”

  Kiren ripped his eyes away
and turned to his friend.

  Zeph chuckled. “You were picturing her to the skin, were you not?”

  “No,” he scoffed. Although now that it had been suggested… He forced his gaze to the sky and centered his focus on cuts, bruises, and the exhausting night ahead. Zeph knew about some of his past and that the kingdom waited for him, but he didn’t know everything—not Kiren’s name, not his secret gifts, not how he came to be the sought after heir. No one knew it all. Except maybe Alexia. It was how he protected everyone.

  His friend whistled. “We are going to be here a while.”

  Kiren shoved past him, returning for the injured.

  “She is nice to look at, but did you notice her middle front region?”

  “Hard to miss, and the fact she cannot be read.”

  Zeph froze in his tracks. “You cannot read her thoughts?”

  Kiren turned back. “Not a single one.”

  His friend shivered. “Scary.”

  And that is only the beginning of it. If Zeph had any idea how hard he was fighting to stay on the opposite side of camp, he’d either laugh his gourd off or swoop Kiren to safety. That woman was danger.

  Zephaniah’s wings fluttered. “Is that Silivia over there?”

  A smile tugged at Kiren’s cheek. His friend was still obsessed with the island girl’s dark hair and bronzed skin. Who cared that she’d thrown a boulder at his unmentionables—with her mind.

  “Yes, terrifying.”

  Zeph waved him off and crossed the camp like a lovesick puppy.

  Kiren knelt to mend a head wound, but when his friend crossed paths with Alexia, he couldn’t pull his gaze away. Despite her girth, she moved with the grace of a queen, almost floating. She stopped in front of a gangly, tall man with long blonde hair and handed him the stack of scrolls. He was the kind whose skin had only seen the sun because he’d been forced into it. Not at all beautiful like the Lost Ones. An awkward smile and subdued speech made him look like a twitching weasel.

  Alexia’s laughter carried across the camp. Glittering specks of joy. They tugged at his heart, reminding him what it was to be so light. She was laughing at the strange man—no, with him. Her hand landed on his arm in a flirtatious gesture, and the weasel smiled at her as if she were the only woman in the world.