by Montana Ash
“Fuck!” he shouted.
“What? What is it?” Mordecai swiftly appeared next to him.
“I look like shit,” Ryker admitted, not recognising the person staring back at him.
Mordecai snorted, “Yeah, you look like shit. Not even warmed up shit. But like, old, dried out, caked on, shit that’s been left to rot in the bowels of some foul beast’s intestines.”
“Geez, man. Don’t hold back. Tell me how you really feel.”
A small chuckle left Mordecai’s lips and Ryker leaned forward, fingering the new, brutal scar on his face. For some reason, the return of the scar didn’t bother him. In fact, it made him feel closer to Max for some stupid reason. Knowing his ugly, shitty appearance wasn’t going to magically get better just by staring at it, he made his way into his room and looked around it hopelessly for a few minutes. What was he supposed to be doing again?
Fabric hit his face and he caught it instinctively. Holding up the black and white material, he realised they were a ratty pair of old track pants and a tee shirt.
“Put that shit on, will you? I don’t want to keep seeing the junk you’re sporting,” Mordecai griped, turning away and staring out the window.
Ryker grunted, stepping sluggishly into the clothes. He hadn’t even noticed he had been standing there stark naked.
“She knew.”
Ryker glanced over at Mordecai as he yanked on the white tee, “What?”
“Max. She knew this was going to happen. The day before Emmanuel – we talked. She made me promise I wouldn’t leave – that I would stay for as long as it took. I knew something bad must have been on the horizon. But a small part of me hoped she asked me to stay so we could get to know each other. Turns out, it was for you. For all of you.”
Well, what do you know? Turns out Ryker could feel shittier. Max had told him about her talk with her father, and then she had cried. But Ryker knew they had been happy tears – tears of hope. She had wanted a chance at the relationship which had been denied to them for so long. Walking over to his father-in-law, he placed a comforting hand on the man’s shoulder. He had to reach up a little, which was novel. Not many people were taller than him.
“Mordecai. She trusted you with her greatest possessions – her family. If that doesn’t prove she trusts you – that she loves you – I don’t know what does.”
Mordecai turned around, searching Ry’s gaze for a moment before clearing his throat and nodding his head. “Thank you,” he murmured.
Ryker shook his head, “No. Thank you. Thank you for making Max.”
THIRTY-TWO
Mordecai entered the room first and Ryker took a few seconds to compose himself. Seeing his Order was going to be hard. He didn’t have anything to offer them yet – had nothing left to give. He was still a shell of a man. But he was now a walking, talking one, and he figured it was a start.
“Wow. No new bruises today? Was he passed-out or something?” The voice belonged to Diana.
Mordecai grunted, “I don’t get hit every time I visit him.”
Snickers and good-natured ribbing followed, and Ryker closed his eyes, leaning against the wall as he took in the familiar sounds. He felt a lump form in his throat because he knew one voice was missing. He was trying to find a way to push past the sudden flare of pain in his chest, when he heard Cali groan and gasp.
“This sucks!”
“Okay, anyone who is not the baby-daddy or the push-partners – get out.”
Ryker recognised the voice as the human doctor Max had conveniently forgotten to tell him about. He was sure he hadn’t made the best first impression on the woman. What with all the yelling and the smashing of furniture and beating on his family and stuff. In fact, the outrageously beautiful, African American woman had been so terrified of his antics, she had stabbed a giant needle filled with elephant tranquilisers into his butt. Well, to be fair they were probably human sedatives rather than elephant ones. But all he knew, was that shit had knocked him out for twenty solid hours. And after that? The woman who was a strange mix of timid and terrifying had refused to give him more.
“Ryker.”
Ryker opened his eyes to find Darius, Axel, Lark, Beyden, and Ivy standing in front of him. Beyden was on crutches and looked drawn and ill, but he was standing. Suddenly remembering how badly his fellow knights had been injured he quickly looked them all over in more detail. Beyden was by far the worst, and Ryker was scared to ask what the white bandages around his foot and lower leg were hiding. Darius looked thinner and not as tanned as usual but otherwise okay. Ryker knew at least those two had suffered through chade poisoning for days after the battle, just as he had. He figured the only difference was that he had hoped the toxin would kill him, but they had fought to survive. Axel, Lark, and Ivy appeared unharmed, but then again, they may have had injuries which had already healed. Ryker still had no idea how long he had been out of it.
“How long?” he asked, his voice sounding rusty to his own ears.
“Four weeks, three days,” Axel offered.
Ryker simply nodded his head. What else was there to say. But as he saw the four men move as a unit as if to embrace him, he held up a hand. “Don’t,” he warned. “I’m not back.”
They stared at him in silence for a moment. Axel finally saying, “But you’re here. It’s a start.”
Ryker nodded, the only reply he could articulate.
“Ivy?! Get back in here, woman!” Cali’s screech sounded from inside the room.
Ivy looked positively horrified, “Fuck no!” she shouted back. “I am not your push-partner!”
“Yes, you are!” Cali’s response was impossibly louder.
Ivy looked around frantically for a moment before her dark gaze landed on him, “Ryker’s out here!” she yelled.
“What the fuck, Ivy?” He gaped at her.
The ranger shrugged, “Every man for himself, Ry.”
“Ryker’s out there? Ryker! Ryyykeeer!” Cali bellowed.
Darius yanked him away from the wall, “Gut-up,” was his sage advice, before he pushed Ry bodily into the room.
Ryker was no expert, but Cali looked absolutely terrible. Her sweaty hair was plastered to her face, which was flushed and red-looking. She breathed in pants and was clutching at her considerably rounder tummy like she wanted to claw it open with her bare hands. Dex appeared about as useful as tits on a bull as he hovered next to the bed, arms flapping and breathing stupidly. About thirty seconds later, Cali seemed able to breathe normally again and she spotted him standing inside the doorway.
“Ryker,” Cali sobbed. He rushed over to her, and grabbed her hand. “You came.”
He couldn’t smile, but he did squeeze her hand, “I wouldn’t miss it.” He looked up and saw Diana looking at him, a little misty-eyed. He nodded to her, receiving a nod in return.
“Ahem.” The sound of a throat clearing loudly echoed in the quiet room.
Ryker turned slowly, “Doctor Ross,” he murmured, hoping the respectful title might thaw the middle-aged woman toward him a little.
Her almond-shaped eyes narrowed for a moment before she looked away, studying the notes in her hand. “You can stay. But if you go postal again, I’m injecting you with gonorrhoea.” She looked up, suddenly making eye contact, “Your dick will shrivel up and die. For real.”
Dex stifled a laugh with his hand while Ryker tried to think of an appropriate response. In the end, he figured there wasn’t really one, so he settled for a nod. He stayed for another ten minutes, just long enough for Cali to squeeze his hand so hard he thought he felt his bones crush into dust. But when he started to hear words like crowning he hightailed it out of there to join the rest of the team in the hallway. Twenty minutes – and much screaming – later, a thin cry echoed from the room. Ryker stood up straight, feeling himself begin to sweat; there was a baby in that room. It was another thirty minutes before they were all invited back in, and Ryker stayed in the background as everyone crowded around Dex and the tiny
bundle he held in his arms.
“Ryker? Come and hold him,” Cali said, gently.
“Oh, no. Hell no,” he added and then wondered if he should be saying words like hell around a baby. Could they understand swear words so young? He had no fucking idea.
“Ryker, come and hold your nephew,” Cali’s voice had gone from to gentle to drill sergeant.
Despite the trepidation pounding through his body, Ryker moved forward slowly, his family parting and granting him access to Dex and his son. Dex smiled, the sight blinding with love and pride, as he carefully handed the baby over to Ryker. Ryker felt like a giant holding an ant. The little guy was tiny and felt like he weighed nothing. But then, he was five weeks early. Jazz had assured everyone he was perfectly healthy and that his lungs were mature, but that she would keep him in the humidicrib until he put on some weight and could regulate his body temperature better.
Taking a deep breath, Ryker peeled back the layers of swaddling and stared in awe at the tiny creature gazing up at him with complete trust. He had a head full of black hair like his father, but his eyes were as blue as a summer sky like his mother’s. Ryker ran a finger over his cheek and marvelled at how soft it was. “What did you call him?” he asked, looking up.
The new parents looked at each other and he saw Dex squeeze Cali’s hand. Cali cleared her throat. “Maxwell. We called him Maxwell. Max for short.”
The whole room seemed to hold its breath as they waited for his reaction. “It suits him,” he promised, and saw Cali relax.
Dex reached over and wiped the lone tear escaping down Cali’s cheek. She nodded, “It does. See how strong he is already?”
The baby chose that moment to grip Ryker’s finger, and he felt himself smile; “He’s very strong. Max will love you,” he promised the babe.
The four words brought pain but not devastation. Max had said she would come back to him – to them. Max never broke her word. He had to trust her. He had to have faith.
His love, his beating heart, his soulmate, would return to him.
She had to.
THIRTY-THREE
Beyden took his turn cuddling the newest member of the family before he slowly made his way outside. He was sweating and panting by the time he made his way to the bench seat in the garden at the rear of the house. As soon as he was alone, he allowed his façade to fall, dropping his head into his hands. He was trying so hard not to fall into the black pit of depression he could see right in front of him. One little push would be all it took. So far, visions of the state Ryker was in had been enough to keep Beyden clinging stubbornly to the edge instead of tumbling in headfirst. The birth of baby Maxwell had brought some much-needed joy to the household and he could see the light coming back into the eyes of his fellow knights.
Beyden felt warmth brush his fingers and peered through his hands to see Zombie sitting in front of him. “What? Everyone else can wallow in self-pity but I’m not allowed?” he asked the dog.
Zombie yipped at him and Beyden sighed, scrubbing his palms over the dog’s soft fur. Zombie whined a little and leant into his touch. Beyden knew he was missing Max just as much as the rest of them were. It was like there was a gaping void in the house without her. He looked at his coat of arms, running his hand over it roughly, but the stupid thing didn’t move, and his druid symbol didn’t glow. It was almost like a normal tattoo now. Beyden knew it was because it no longer held any power. It was no longer needed as a conduit because Max was gone.
And Max wasn’t the only one. Beyden could barely comprehend the loss of life that had occurred in under thirty minutes. Hundreds of paladins, chadens, and wardens had lost their lives, including many who had been good friends to him, like Fawn. He knew he wasn’t the only one hurting, he saw evidence of that daily when visitor after visitor arrived at the house. Beyden was helping as much as he could, but what he really wanted was just permission to grieve. He wanted to grieve for his family, for his friends, for his liege, and also for himself, he thought, looking down at his bandaged leg.
The useless thing chose that moment to start aching and he felt sharp pain shoot up his entire leg from toes to thigh. He gritted his teeth against the onslaught, knowing he wasn’t allowed any pain medication for another hour. The human doctor was extremely strict with the drugs and medical advice she doled out. Beyden found the woman – Jasminka, or Jazz as she asked to be called – a curiosity. As a paladin, he had never had any need for a medical professional before. Under normal circumstances, paladins healed very quickly. Apparently having an infected chade burrow into your flesh down to the bone, were not normal circumstances.
He winced and tried to massage the muscles as Jasminka had showed him. The circular motions were supposed to calm the raging nerves and help relieve the pain. But it was pretty much bullshit, Beyden thought. There was no taking away the pain of knowing he was now crippled for life. After all, what good was a crippled soldier? It took everything in him not to rage out loud at the loss.
The pain he had felt when that chade had ripped into his calf and ankle had been unlike anything he had ever felt before, and he had known without even looking that the wound wasn’t an ordinary one. But his brain still hadn’t been able to compute what it saw when he had looked down. The entire thing was a ragged mass of torn flesh and exposed muscle. With no Max to magically heal him, he had been rushed into surgery by the good doctor, who had no doubt saved his leg. He may not understand human medicine, but he was darn grateful for it. As bad as his long-term prognosis was, he knew it would have been far worse if Jasminka had been forced to amputate.
The doctor was tall for a human woman and had dark, chocolate-coloured skin. She had long black hair, practically down to her butt, and almond-shaped eyes that matched the colour of her skin perfectly. She had barely any breasts to speak of, and wore purple-framed glasses perched on her nose most of the time. Beyden had yet to see her in anything but dresses or skirts, and she seemed to favour highly feminine, floral patterns. The overall effect? She was stunningly beautiful.
Zombie’s ears pricked up and a small growl left his lips. Bey automatically reached for his weapon, cursing when it wasn’t there. Of course it wasn’t there. He would probably never wield the weapon of the paladins ever again. But he still had the instincts of a knight and he quickly manoeuvred the cumbersome crutches under his arms. He wished he could call his Order telepathically but the link was no longer there. It had severed the moment Max had winked out of existence.
He followed the sound of snapping twigs, expecting to see a warden or a paladin. There had been a steady stream of them over the weeks. Most came seeking answers or aid. But some came to fight some more – pissed off and terrified over the loss of their world as they knew it. Beyden couldn’t even blame them. He knew the others felt the same for they rarely gave them the arse-whipping some of them needed. They disabused them of their surly ways and sent them off with warnings not to return in anger again.
He was pretty sure the unexpected visitor wouldn’t be a chade because Max seemed to have wiped every single one off the face of the planet. Even those who weren’t on the battlefield and were countries away, were all reported to have vanished in a bright, blazing light. But not the ones who had stubbornly and bravely clung to their souls. Those chades had all been healed. As a result, there were now hundreds of new wardens – or chadens, rather – trying to reassimilate into a society who cast them out.
Balance had been returned to their world.
But it would be a long time before order was restored. Their community was a real mess and Beyden didn’t envy the remaining members of the IDC and the local councils. He had no idea how their society was going to get back on track.
Finally making his way around the garden and into the open – crutches were hard to use when you were Beyden’s size – he got his first glimpse of the intruder. But what he saw wasn’t a lost paladin or a bitter warden. It was a woman. A woman with dark red hair that fell in thick, chaotic tumbles around h
er shoulders. A woman with golden skin and full lips. A woman who stood only a couple of inches above five-feet.
It was a woman with clear turquoise eyes and a playful smile tilting her lips.
“Max?” he croaked.
THE END
ALSO BY MONTANA ASH:
The Elemental Paladins Series:
BOOK ONE: Warden
BOOK TWO: Paladin
BOOK THREE: Chade
BOOK FOUR: Ranger
COMING UP NEXT IN THE ELEMENTAL PALADINS SERIES:
BOOK SIX: Revolution
***
THE FAMILIARS:
BOOK ONE: Ivory’s Familiars
***
COMING SOON:
The Reluctant Royals Series
BOOK ONE: Reluctant King
Meet Montana!
Montana is an Aussie, self-confessed book junkie. Although she loves reading absolutely everything, her not-so-guilty pleasure is paranormal romance. Alpha men – just a little bit damaged – and feisty women – strong yet vulnerable – are a favourite combination of hers. Throw in some steamy sex scenes, a touch of humour, and a little violence and she is in heaven! She is a scientist by day, a writer by night, and a reader always!
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