Ilera gave a shaky chuckle. “Forgive me, Myern. I am certain your tree homes are just as safe as those on the ground.”
Lyr could tell by the way she bit her lip and kept glancing out the window that she was decidedly not certain, but he let the comment pass. “Taysonal Kaienan will lead the mission tomorrow morning, provided you are prepared.”
After a quick look at the other mages, Ilera nodded. “We will be ready.”
“I’ll meet with you in your tower before dinner to discuss the details,” Kai said.
Only a few more words of pleasantry later, Kera escorted the mages from the room. As the door closed behind them, Lyr lowered himself to perch on the edge of his desk. His arms shook as he held himself upright. “Gods, I’m tired.”
Kai grinned, though concern shadowed his gaze. “You look like the humans’ hell.”
“I feel worse.” Lyr glanced at the water clock. He could spare a little time to rest—but not much. “Could you take care of things while I get some sleep?”
“You are asking for help?” Kai asked, brows lifted.
Lyr rolled his eyes. “Just shut up and do it.”
Kai’s laughter followed Lyr all the way out into the hall.
By the time Lyr reached the top of the stairs, his wound throbbed with each heaving breath. He paused to lean against the wall, and his hand drifted to his chest. Gods, how he wanted to scratch at the unrelenting tingle-pain of it. Fighting against the urge, he jerked his hand away. Who knew what Lial would do if Lyr broke his injury open by scratching it?
An unpleasant potion in his drink, for sure.
Lyr shoved away from the wall and started the long trek down the hall. Though he wavered on his feet like a scout walking along a wobbly tree branch, he managed to make it almost to his room before his mother’s door opened. Lial stepped out and then paused to give Lyr a scowl.
“You’d better be headed to sleep,” the healer grumbled.
Lyr gave a frown of his own. “You were supposed to tell me when my mother woke.”
“I wanted to check her spine for further injury first,” Lial answered, shrugging. Then his eyes narrowed. “It looks like you need another healing session, anyway.”
“Later.” Lyr waved a hand as he brushed past the healer. He tossed a look over his shoulder. “Go rest. You have energy stores of your own to restore, and there are certain to be more attacks. You can shout at me later.”
Lial’s brow rose. “I never shout.” He paused, his lips sliding up in a grin. “I simply show my concern loudly.”
The healer slipped from the room, and Lynia’s laughter caught Lyr’s attention. His own chuckle strangled in his throat at the sight of his mother, her face almost as pale as the white pillows propped behind her. But he couldn’t rush forward as he wanted, not without revealing the depth of his weakness.
His head pounded with the effort of pulling in more energy, a sure sign of his low reserves, but Lyr managed to gather enough to walk to his mother’s bed without swaying. Not that it helped. Her laughter faded, and her face pinched with concern as he reached her side. With a huff of effort, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed.
“Laiala—”
“If you treat me like an invalid, I will scream.” Her gaze pinned his. “I am still your mother, and I am not weak.”
Lyr grimaced. “I know that. But you’re pale, and Lial seemed concerned about your back. I’d rather—”
“Lyrnis!” She grabbed his hand, and he helped her balance out of reflex as she levered herself to standing. “Stop. I’m healing.” Her other hand cupped his cheek. “Stop all of it. The guilt. Blaming yourself. Worrying over me. My injury hurts less than knowing what those things led you to yesterday.”
His breath caught, and he forced it loose. “I didn’t go out there because of you. Not specifically. I thought…I thought I could make up for my failure.”
“By all the gods,” his mother snapped, her hands falling to her sides, “the failure was not yours. Telien started all of this. Your father was more concerned with his magical research than in checking on the branches under his command. Allafon never, never should have grown so dark and cruel without Telien noticing. He was Myern for millennia. You’ve only held the title for twenty-two years.”
Lyr’s fists clenched. “Long enough to do my own checking.”
“Why would you?” His mother’s mouth pinched as she shook her head. “Think. Kai was born and raised on that estate. By the time he was born, Allafon had masked his deeds so thoroughly that Kai didn’t even know.” Then her expression softened. “You are not responsible for the world.”
His gaze slid to the side. “Maybe someday I’ll believe that.”
“So long as you don’t scare me like this again,” she whispered.
The anguish in her voice caught at him. After a quick glance at her worried face, Lyr pulled her into a hug. Pain jolted him at the contact, but he shoved it aside and dropped his forehead to her hair. "I’m sorry, Laiala. I’ll try. But I am a warrior.”
She pulled back, her brows rising. “One who has better sense than to venture out alone.”
A chuckled slipped free, and he winced at the ache that came with the movement. “Usually.”
“Use that sense and go get some sleep.” His mother shifted to the side, grabbing her walking stick from its place by the bed. “I’m going to make my way to the library for some research.”
Lyr tensed. “You’ve been to the library?”
A hard gleam entered her eyes as she met his gaze. “I refuse to let one moment ruin millennia of good memories. It is difficult, but some things must be faced. Avoidance only brings more pain in the end.”
Speechless, Lyr stared at her with wide eyes as she made her way to the door. Laiala was right. He’d tried so hard to shunt his feelings to the side so he could avoid dealing with them, but they’d built into a mountain that had fallen, burying him. All that time, she’d been resolutely rebuilding her life. He rubbed the back of his neck. Gods.
“I love you, Laiala.”
His voice was soft, but she heard. Smiling, she glanced over her shoulder. “I love you, too. Always.”
Lyr’s muscles loosened with a sudden sense of relief. His mother was right—enough avoiding. Then he shook his head, chuckling, as he headed toward the door. Did finally getting some sleep count as avoiding?
Chapter 18
Meli shifted on the stone bench and lifted her hair away from the back of her neck. Should have braided it, she grumbled to herself. Why didn’t the Moranaians do something about the oppressive heat? Their buildings were magic-cooled. Couldn’t they surround their lands with a similar shield as the Ljósálfar did? It would make staying here more pleasant.
Not that Meli would be able to stay once she announced that she’d no longer work with the ambassador. A shame, considering how drawn she was to this world. Meli closed her eyes as the peace of the garden filled her. The gentle rustle of countless leaves swaying together above, the gurgle of the nearby stream, the woodsy tang of the forest wafting around her—they melded, a balm soaking through to her soul. More home than Alfheim had ever been.
But Meli refused to be silent and complacent any longer. Lady Teronver had gone too far with her insults. Meli would share her body with whomever she chose, as was her right, and the ambassador went beyond all politeness to question that. It was never acceptable to deride another’s sexual choices.
Then again, hadn’t Meli allowed the woman’s abuse from the beginning? It didn’t make it right, but she should have stood up for herself sooner. Freyr knew she’d always struggled to stand up for herself. Maybe it was time to learn how.
“Are you unwell?”
Meli jumped, letting out a yelp, as Lyr’s voice sounded from behind her. Hand over her pounding heart, she spun to face him. “Gods!”
“I’m sorry,” he said, brows pinching in concern. “I called your name from farther down the path. It wasn’t my intention to startle you.”
>
She forced her breathing to slow, though her heart maintained its frantic beat. But not out of fear. She took in the loose tunic and pants he wore, and the memory of their last encounter flashed through her. Would she ever be able to look at him without thinking of him naked? Her skin heated in a blush. Probably not.
Lyr’s frown deepened as he sat beside her. “Is it the heat? You’re flushed.”
She let out a choked laugh and shook her head. “The temperature doesn’t help, but, truly, I am well. I’m only surprised I didn’t hear you. Shouldn’t you be resting?”
“I slept a couple of marks and had another healing session.” He smiled, and Meli had to admit he looked better than he had that morning. More color. More…vitality. “It’s almost time for dinner. I was on my way to the dining room when I sensed your discord.”
Meli stifled a groan. Had she been broadcasting her confusion to him? “I’m sorry I bothered you. But I needed to speak with you, in any case.”
His eyes focused on hers, and she froze, her attention caught like a dragon in the thrall of flawless emeralds. Too bad she couldn’t keep him.
“Dare I ask why?” he finally asked.
“It’s not…” Meli swallowed against the lump in her throat. “It’s not about the bond.”
Lyr slumped, and all at once, he looked tired. Resigned. “What is it, then?”
Chin lifting, she straightened. “I will no longer work with the ambassador.”
“I don’t blame you,” he said, another frown pinching his brows. “But is there a specific reason?” His shoulders went taut as he leaned closer. “Did she threaten you?”
Again, she froze. But this time, he seemed more the dragon, ready to rend. Instinctively, she wrapped her hand around his tense forearm to soothe. “Yes, but Pol handled that. She offered me grave offense. Grave enough that I can bear her no longer.”
Lyr glanced down, and the muscles beneath her hand loosened as he relaxed. But only a little. “Might I ask what she said?”
Meli bit her lip. “I stayed near the healer’s place last night, hoping to find out how you fared. After everything, I…” She paused and took a deep breath. “I couldn’t leave. But when I returned to the tower this morning, Lady Teronver claimed I’d used my body to gain your favor.”
Lyr jerked to his feet, breaking her hold. “I will see her gone before the sun sets.”
“No!” Rising, Meli grabbed at him again as he took a step forward. Her fingers curved around his wrist, stopping him. “Don’t doom Alfheim because of me. The ambassador’s role here is more important.”
For a moment, he simply stood there, head bowed, and a hint of his anger washed over her. Meli’s heart jumped. How could she feel so much from him when they weren’t actually bound in the way of his people? Then he turned, and she knew she’d only sensed the barest hint of his emotions. The pain and fury of ages swirled in his eyes.
“I care more for you than a city too long awash in its own self-importance,” Lyr bit out.
Meli threw up her hands. “Why? You barely know me. I mean nothing to you beyond our potential bond.”
Lyr stepped closer. “But I want to know you,” he said. He brushed his fingers down her cheek, and she trembled. “I want to know why you hesitate so often even though you’re brave. I want to know why I can feel your desire for me even as you turn away.”
“I’m not brave,” Meli whispered. Her hands fluttered at her side, uncertain where they wished to be. No, not true, she admitted. They’d rather be on him. “Or I wouldn’t turn away.”
He reached for her. Paused. “May I?”
Meli took a long, wavering breath. Then raised her wayward hands to his shoulders and nodded. His strong arms gathered around her, pulling her close despite his wound, and his sigh ruffled her hair as he settled his cheek against the strands. Then he flinched as she shifted closer, and she stilled.
“You’re hurt,” she said. “I shouldn’t—”
“It’s worth this slight ache to hold you.” Lyr slipped his hand into her hair and tipped her head back. “I want to kiss you again. But not on the forehead this time.”
Her hands tightened on his shoulders, and her heart throbbed a frantic beat in her ears. Did she dare let herself get closer, more attached? A quiver traced down her spine at his heated gaze. What other chance would she have? Lyr might be forced to send her home when he learned about her disgrace. By Freyr, they deserved at least one moment for themselves. Meli gave a shaky nod, and he captured her lips with his own.
Nothing could have prepared her for the feel of his mouth on hers. Nothing. The burn that flared through every muscle and bone. The singing of her soul. The belonging. She gasped, and Lyr took the kiss deeper, his tongue tangling with hers in a delicious dance. Ah, gods. Meli ran her hands down his side and snaked them around his back to pull herself tight against him. Anything to get closer.
Lyr’s quick hiss of pain brought her back to reality. With a groan, Meli jerked away. “We can’t.”
“If you’re still concerned about—”
“No!” At his raised brows, she grimaced. “Well, I don’t want to cause you pain, but that’s not…I wasn’t…” Meli huffed. Could she ever just say what she meant without fumbling the words? She stiffened her spine and forced her gaze to stay firm on his. “We can’t let ourselves get this close.”
He flinched as though she’d struck him. “This wasn’t an attempt to pressure you.”
“I know. I didn’t think…” Meli closed her eyes and let the words tumble free. “I return to ruin when I go home. I failed every test posed to Alfheim’s children, every chance to have a place there. My family saved me. Because of their influence, I was given a little more time to find some talent that might benefit our people. I am almost out of that time.” Her shoulders twitched with an involuntary shudder. “I’ll be banished from regular society—unmarriageable.”
His hand cupped her cheek, and she opened her eyes to his intense gaze. “They would banish you?”
“I have no magic,” Meli blurted. “I can’t shield in the way of my people. Can’t summon the elements or light a candle. I’ve no skill for crafting, and I can fight only well enough for basic self-defense. Magic is fundamental to life. A Ljósálfr so imperfect could never be accepted.”
“But you aren’t powerless.” His eyes narrowed on her face. “What of the runes?”
Meli grasped the rune pouch at her waist, and the barest tingle danced along her fingers before fading away. She glanced down, but there was no sign of magic coming from the bag. “I’ve only had these since the mists,” she answered, letting the pouch drop back to dangle from her belt. “But this new power wouldn’t be enough. The Ljósálfar are traditional beyond all comprehension. Those who do not fit are considered Unfavorable, their place tenuous.”
“Meli.” At her questioning look, his lips curved up. “You aren’t in Alfheim.”
Her mouth fell open, and the color drained from her face. “You can’t…you can’t just dismiss this.”
“I didn’t intend to.” Lyr’s smile never wavered, though the fear in her eyes bit at him. “You expect me to judge you by the standards of another world. We are not so inflexible here, nor so foolish. Everyone has value. You have value.”
Meli stepped back, breaking his light hold. “Not in Alfheim.” She bit her bottom lip, and a hint of her pain drifted over him, settling in his heart. “This might be a different world, but to ally with me would make negotiations with Alfheim impossible. Even if I never return there.”
His eyes narrowed. “Why would you consider going back? Why do you care?”
“My family. They’ve shown me nothing but love, and I’ll not leave them to the poison,” Meli answered softly. “My people haven’t always been so afraid, you know. We even reached some accord with the humans. But Alfheim is maintained by magic. It’s life. When that started to fade among some, the Ljósálfar pulled away. Tried to regroup.”
“They disavowed us lon
g before that day,” Lyr said.
“You moved away from the nine known worlds,” she answered, shrugging. “At least that’s my guess. Tradition is almost as sacred as magic. That’s why I can’t consider a bond with you if I hope to save Alfheim. Accepting my status would forever lessen you in their eyes.”
Anger surged, and Lyr clenched his fists in a vain attempt to repress it. “They came to me.” Meli’s eyes widened, and he sucked in a deep breath, searching for calm. “If they wish my aid, then they will meet my terms. I will work with none but you.”
“You can’t do that,” Meli said, eyes going wide.
“Oh, I can.” Satisfaction flashed through him, and he lifted a brow. “I am eighteenth in line to the throne of Moranaia and cousin to the king himself. It is my duty to deal with all of our kindred from Earth, though we left long before the Sidhe were defeated by the humans. Your family can come here if the situation becomes dire. The rest will negotiate on my terms or fend for themselves.”
Her hand flew to her throat. “You’d leave Alfheim to its doom?”
“No,” Lyr answered, taking a step closer. “Your king would. If he’s unwilling to make amends for the discord Lady Teronver has caused, then he is responsible. I’ll not take the blame for his blind inflexibility.”
“But he follows the Ancient One.” Meli’s forehead furrowed. “She advised him in this.”
A smooth, amused voice cut through the sudden silence. “My sister’s words have no doubt changed.”
Lyr stiffened, and his hand fell to the knife at his belt as he spun. Pol leaned against a tree, a smirk on his face and his legs and arms loosely crossed as though he’d been enjoying a play. Lyr’s eyes narrowed. “Your sister?”
Pol shrugged. “When she claims me.”
“Who are you?” Meli whispered from behind Lyr, her robes rustling as she stepped close to his side. His heart leapt as she slipped her hand into his. “You couldn’t possibly be as old as that.”
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