A Destiny Revealed

  “I know who killed your mate,” she taunted.

  Bakari felt his beast slam against his chest. “You will tell me what you know.” His voice was calm, deadly.

  The first sign of panic lit Nala’s eyes. She stepped back hastily. She pushed her power at him, pinning him back on the beam and that panic was replaced with triumph.

  “It's your fault Layla's dead.” Emboldened, she moved closer. She trailed her finger down his chest, her nail ripping away his shirt. “If I couldn’t have you, then neither could she.”

  Bakari struggled against Nala’s power. He could feel Fynn in his mind, but he dismissed the distraction.

  Nala ran her hands across his chest. “Had you shown me the teeniest bit of attention, I wouldn’t have had your bitch killed.” She quickly stepped back as Bakari roared and tried to reach for her.

  DALIA ENTERED THE WAREHOUSE SILENTLY, keeping to the shadows to avoid attention. She cursed silently as the bag she carried banged against her leg. Going to her mother’s house to retrieve its contents didn't waste too much time. She tensed to strike as she felt a hand cover her mouth.

  “What are you doing back here?” Bron whispered in her ear.

  “She can’t get away with using my family.”

  "Did it occur to you that I would take care of it?" His breath warmed her neck and she shuddered at the hurt in his tone.

  "I need to do this for myself."

  Bron released her and stepped back. Dalia thought he would tell her to leave, but he motioned her to follow him. They climbed a rusted staircase to the catwalk, where they found Fynn lying flat against the floor. Dalia saw that he had a perfect view of Nala and Bakari and she smiled in triumph. Snatches of their conversation floated up towards them, but Dalia ignored it. She emptied the contents of her bag, slowly, methodically, careful not to make a sound. She set her rifle up and lay down next to Fynn. The warrior’s eyes widened in surprise, and he looked up at Bron.

  Bron’s expression was grim 'Why all this?'

  'I know when I am out-matched, it proves nothing for me to go down there and get my ass kicked. She’s got centuries of power behind her. I want her dead, it doesn’t matter how I accomplish it.' Dalia told him, her voice resolute.

  'Oh I think it matters.' The bite in his voice made her wince.

  She avoided his gaze. Yes, it mattered. She wanted to take Nala out herself. She hunkered down to line up her shot when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Bron was tense next to her, his eyes glued to the scene below, he held up a single finger, halting her. Dalia kept her finger on the trigger but she focused on the conversation below, listening for what had Bron engrossed.

  “I will kill you,” Dalia heard Bakari growl.

  Nala laughed and clapped her hands. “You'll try, Ijoye. Trust me; I'm not that easy to kill.” She put the amulet around her neck and eyed Bakari defiantly.

  Her icy expression was brought in stunning color through the scope of her rifle and Dalia finger tightened slightly on the trigger.

  “Do you have any idea how easy it was to convince my lover to ransack the village? Of course, the temple was another matter. Maksim wouldn't risk it, so he hired some Dutchman and his soldiers to do it.”

  “You gave up the tribe’s secrets, for petty revenge? Do you know how many villagers died that night?” Bakari’s voice echoed around the catwalk.

  “It was what they deserved.” Nala laughed. “Those who taunted me were the first to go. The others, well, I had to allow Maksim his sport, you know. I told the villagers to scream to the Ijoye for help with the hope that I could capture you. Like a fool you raced to their sides.”

  The casual way in which she said it filled Dalia with disgust.

  “Do you want to know the best part?” Nala leaned over into Bakari’s face. She kissed him lightly on his lips.

  Dalia cursed because she couldn’t get a good shot if they were that close. She breathed a sigh of relief when Nala did a small pirouette away from the Ijoye and laughed.

  “When the Dutchman raided the tomb, I gave him specific instructions to kill the oracle. How does it feel to have saved the village but not your mate?”

  Dalia closed her eyes against the pain radiating from the three warriors. Tears blurred her vision momentarily as Bron’s guilt and sorrow flooded through her from the bond they shared. Nala’s taunting laughter floated up to Dalia, she flinched as the Ijoye roared. Icy resolve flooded her veins steadying her hands as she lined her shot. Dalia pulled the trigger, once, twice, hitting Nala in the chest and neck. Missing her heart as the vampire moved at the least second.

  The vampire slumped to the ground, releasing Bakari from her hold. Fynn teleported quickly to his father's side and they disappeared. Dalia set down her rifle and ran for the stairs intending to finish the job. Bron called to her and she hesitated. What she saw over her shoulder stopped her in her tracks. She saw the need on his face and the pressure from it weighed down her heart. Bron held his hand out to her.

  Leave it, rewà. I need to be with Fynn and cannot leave you here alone.' He told her sadly.

  Dalia thought briefly of her revenge, if she took his hand she wondered what it would mean for them. Her mind demanded vengeance for the way both Nala and Maksim used her, but her heart hurt for her mate. She saw the momentary panic in his eyes before she grabbed his hand and teleported them back to the safe house.

  Chapter 29

  DALIA CLOSED THE DOOR to her mother’s room hours later, happy that Isabelle had finally drifted off to sleep.

  Zahra met her in the hallway, her eyes anxious. “How is she?”

  “She's resting now, I'll check on her in a couple of hours. Has Bron checked in?” Dalia asked. He'd gone to check on the rest of her family once he finished with Fynn and she was grateful, it allowed her stay with her mother. A part of her had wanted to do it herself, but it felt good to allow someone else to take care of it for her.

  Zahra shook her head and guided Dalia into the kitchen. She poured Dalia tea.

  “What are you doing?” Dalia asked, grateful for the tea.

  Zahra was searching the cabinets pulling out food. “When the guys get in, they will be starving.” Worried colored the oracle’s eyes.

  She moved her chair back and stood to help. “Are you worried about Fynn?”

  Zahra shook her head. “The Ijoye, Fynn will not tell me what happened…” she stopped and braced herself on the counter. “I can feel their pain.”

  Dalia touched the woman’s shoulder briefly. Zahra turned and clasped her hand. Dalia didn't think it was her place to tell Zahra about the conversation the Ijoye had with Nala. She would leave that to the warriors to explain. Deciding to make herself useful, she washed her hands to help the oracle. They moved around the kitchen in companionable silence. Ajani and Aren teleported into the kitchen minutes later, exhaustion slumping their shoulders.

  “Your family has been taken care of,” Ajani said wearily.

  Dalia gave them a grateful smile.

  Aren dumped his body into a chair at the table. Zahra placed a steaming plate in front of him. It was stacked with pancakes, fluffy eggs and crisp bacon.

  Aren smiled gratefully “Did you poison it?”

  “Ha ha. No I didn’t, though I was tempted. But I think that punch to your chin sufficed.”

  He rubbed his chin and let out a tired laugh. “Fine we’ll call a truce.” He dug into his breakfast.

  “Sit Ajani, I have called to the others.” Zahra said.

  Dalia heard the patio door in the living room slide open and the kitchen was soon crowded. She helped fix plates and left the warriors to eat in peace. Her mind continually sought out Bron, checking on him. She could feel his sorrow but didn't want to disturb him. Now that her family was safe, her worry was solely focused on Bron. She felt a hand on her shoulder.

  “Bron is with Fynn and the Ijoye now, they shouldn't be much longer.” Zahra assured her.

  Dalia sighed, she stepped back as Zahra gasped and clutched
her heart.

  “Are you okay?” Dalia reached for Zahra,

  "The Ijoye has cut himself off from the tribe," Zahra’s voice was breathless with pain.

  Dalia reached out to comfort her, but grabbed air as Zahra teleported from the room. Dalia felt a heavy sadness descend and she clutched her own heart, feeling the loss of a man she hadn't even liked days ago. She prayed Bron was okay, she couldn't feel anything from him. She paced the room to stave off the panic gathering in her chest.

  Dalia went limp with relief when Bron teleported into the room. She went to him at once, stopping in front of him when she saw his face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “The Ijoye.” Bron shook his head.

  Dalia reached and touched Bron’s face, just to make certain he was okay. Weariness and sadness pulled at her. She wanted nothing more than to curl into bed with Bron for three days.

  “Are you hungry?”

  Bron shook his head, his eyes never leaving her face. “How is your mother?”

  “She's sleeping. She'll be fine.” Dalia felt a wall between them and thought back to their last conversation. “I'm sorry for the things I said to you.” He watched her stiffly, but said nothing.

  "I know you're hurting now, we can talk tomorrow," she offered. Disappointment moved through Bron's eyes, before they hardened. “What do you want me to say, Bron. I want to make this right between us.” Dalia closed the distance between them. Bron stepped back and Dalia blinked. “I won’t beg you.”

  Bron threw his hands up. “Did I ask you to beg, Dalia?” His frustration was evident.

  "Well what do you want?"

  "Dalia, you didn't come to me when your mother was in danger."

  She shrugged. "I'm used to handling things on my own, Bron."

  "You didn't trust me to help you?"

  "It's not like that. My only thought was for my mother, I thought I could handle it on my own."

  "You are no longer on your own. I thought you understood that." Bron's eyes were sad, and guilt tugged at Dalia.

  "I don't know anything about being a mate. I've only known you a couple of weeks. It's all too fast for me." She wrapped her arms around her chest and turned her head. She raised her eyes back to his face at his silence.

  "I don't know what you want," she whispered.

  “I want a mate who trusts and respects my opinion. I've spent too many centuries with the distrust of my brothers. I won't have it from my mate. I would rather spend eternity alone.” his voice was tired, but filled with steely resolve.

  Her stomach pitched in worry. “I’m sorry, Bron. I haven't trusted anyone outside of my family for years. It’s not something that can happen overnight.”

  “No. I won't accept excuses, rewà. After what we just witnessed, the things I've just heard… The Ijoye’s mate has been dead centuries and still his love for her has not diminished." Bron breathed deep. “I nearly lost you a week ago. I can't go through what I went through every time you decide to do something yourself. I'll not accept less than everything from you, and that includes your trust. Come to me when you are ready to give it.”

  “I gave up my revenge for you, Bron. That has to tell you how much I love you.”

  Bron cupped her cheek. “I know what it meant to give that up, mi ôkàn and the gesture gives me hope for us.” Bron left Dalia standing in the middle of the room, her head hung in defeat.

  ZAHRA TELEPORTED INTO THE TEMPLE, searching the rooms for her husband and Bakari. She found them in Layla's room. She'd been over every inch of that room, cleaning, trying to get some insight into her husband and father in-law. She knew she would find them here. Bakari knelt next to the bed, his shoulders stiff, Fynn knelt next to his father and Zahra rushed to their side. Zahra swayed with Bakari’s pain, tears trailing her cheeks.

  "What happened?" her voice was thick with grief.

  “It’s my fault she died,” Bakari said hoarsely.

  “You can't say that, Father.” Fynn protested.

  “I can't lead the tribe this way, Fynn.” Bakari whispered. “Not like this, I don’t have it in me to do again.”

  “Ijoye,” Zahra started.

  “No Zahra.” Bakari cut off her words.

  “We need our leader more than ever now,” Zahra protested. “I can help ease your pain.”

  Bakari shook his head. Zahra looked to her husband for help. Fynn shook his head, confusion and sorrow weighing down his shoulders.

  “Fynn will lead the tribe,” Bakari announced. Fynn looked taken aback. Bakari stared at his son, pride momentarily replacing his grief. “Don't tell me you haven't felt the shift of power, son.”

  Fynn shook his head. “It’s not my place, Ijoye.”

  “You've been giving orders for weeks, Fynn, without protest from anyone. Do you think that could've been achieved without power? You would've been challenged before you finished the order. Our beasts will only follow an alpha. You've been that.” Bakari embraced his son, nuzzling his face, the touch soothing them both.

  “I can't take your place,”

  “No, you can't. But you will take your place.” Bakari insisted.

  Fynn wouldn't give up his argument. “The Ijoye is not a position to be given away, it must be earned.”

  “He is right, Bakari,” They all turned at the new voice. Oya entered the room, a small breeze blowing through the door behind her. “You cannot simply give away what I have blessed you with.” Her chocolate eyes held no anger, only shared grief. She placed her hand on Bakari and Fynn’s shoulder.

  “I am tired, goddess,” Bakari’s head was bent in respect.

  Oya lifted his chin with her finger. “Then I will allow you to rest, Bakari. Are you ready to join your mate?” Bakari’s heart raced as he thought of joining Layla in Olurun, but vengeance sealed his lips.

  Zahra made a sound of distress.

  “Goddess,” the words stuck in his throat.

  “You seek vengeance?” Oya asked.

  Bakari nodded. Oya kneeled next to Bakari and gathered him into her arms. Sobs shook his body as the presence of the goddess soothed him, even as vengeance burned. Oya reached her hand out for Fynn.

  “Fynn, your father was right, you have been slowly taking your place in the tribe. It is time for you to lead.” Oya ran her hands lovingly over Fynn’s hair. “You look so much like your mother.” Placing her hand on his forehead Oya closed her eyes.

  Zahra felt the exchange of magic and her throat filled. Pride for her husband brought tears to her eyes. He had grown much in the last year and she knew he would lead their tribe with honor.

  Zahra met the goddess’s eyes and received her instructions telepathically.

  Fynn stood and walked to his wife, gathering her in his arms. He could feel the goddess’s touch moving through him, but did not feel any different.

  “You’re not different, Fynn. You were always in possession of the power needed; I only gave you the knowledge you would need to lead.” Oya explained, a small smile lifting her lips. She turned her gaze back to Bakari. “You will have your vengeance, Bakari. You have earned it.” She laid a single kiss on his forehead and left on a breeze. The room was silent as they all processed the goddess’s words.

  “Nala told me she was responsible for the attack on the village and temple.” Bakari said, breaking the silence. “She and Maksim hired a Dutchman to raid the temple. Nala gave him instructions to kill your mother.”

  Zahra’s eyes widened in horror, Fynn tightened his grip on her.

  “We will find him,” Fynn promised.

  “He will pay for what he has done,” Bakari vowed.

  Saleem cleared his throat at the door. “Ijoye, Bron said Nala’s body was missing when he went to dispose of it.”

  Zahra blinked in surprise. Saleem was talking to Fynn, acknowledging the transfer of power without having to be told.

  “So she could still be alive,” Fynn murmured.

  “Should we start a hunt for her?” Saleem looked to Fyn
n for the answer and Fynn felt the responsibility of his new position settle on his shoulders.

  “Not yet, we need time to regroup.” Fynn said. “I want a message sent to her though.”

  Saleem nodded and carefully committed the message to memory.

  “Saleem, I also have a task for you,” Zahra stopped him from leaving the room. She kissed Fynn on the cheek and followed Saleem from the room. Fynn watched his mate leave, grateful to have her.

  “Take care of your mate, Ijoye,” Bakari said gruffly. Fynn’s eyes were dark when he faced his father.

  “I will,” he promised. “Take as much time as you need, father. When you are ready, we will take our vengeance.”

  Chapter 30

  NALA PACED through the underground cavern her lover had built as a healing cavern. She'd spent the last six risings there waiting for the injuries from her gunshot wounds to heal. She cursed, and fury stabbed her. Shot with hollow points that exploded on contact with her body, she barely made it from the warehouse alive. Surprisingly Lev had come to her aid. She knew she owed him now; she hated to think of what he would ask of her. Her bare feet were silent as she paced the floor. She'd been trying to unlock the powers of the amulet for hours, to no avail. Nala rolled her shoulders to loosen the sore muscles. She turned when she heard the door to the chamber open.

  “What?”

  Lev walked in cautiously. “A message was left on the front gate.”

  Nala huffed in impatience. “What did it say?”

  Lev opened the paper crushed in his fist. “ 'Hope you enjoy the necklace, while it does not contain power, it should serve you as a reminder that when we are done with the Dutchman, it will be your turn.' ” Lev handed the note to Nala, she snatched it from his hand.

  Reading the note again, she screamed in frustration. The amulet was a fake. Taking it from her neck, she flung it against the wall of the cavern.

  “I'm making preparations for us to leave this house.” Lev informed her. “It would not be wise for us to sleep where our enemy can find us easily.”