by Aimee Moore
Ysiel laughed. Tinkling, lovely, and superior in its manner. For a moment, I saw a woman who was used to getting her way. “Sweet man, I have not yet shown you desire. This; this was a taste. A delicate warmth grazing your lips with a sigh.”
Dal was silent, then, and I could not tell if he feared the strength of her power or the strength of his own desire. Both jarred me, and I wanted to be rid of her before my heart was as shattered as the prospect of our forever peace.
“We will hear your request,” I said quickly.
Ysiel gave a genuine smile, and it rewarded us with its beauty and brightness. “You will have my deepest thanks,” she said. “I will return to you when I have learned more of this world, and then my request will be made.”
And then she was just gone, taking with her my cabin, the river, and the ornate table with all of its accompaniments. And the sun, she seemed to take that, too. For it had vanished into the mouth of the distant mountains, taking with it our chance at peace, and leaving only the warm glow of regret in its place.
Dal let off a pained groan, sitting on the dead grass.
I knelt next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “What is it?” I looked into his eyes and saw the lust. His skin was hot, his entire being tense.
“If that was a taste of her power, then I fear making an enemy of the Nialae,” Dal said.
“I wondered at how she affected you,” I whispered, jealousy warring with pity in my mind.
“Desire strangled you, as well, then. I failed to notice. I was blind,” Dal said on a heavy sigh.
“Are you alright?”
“I will be.” And then he reached for me. His kiss was hot and urgent, his need whispered to me in every brush of his skin and every groan that escaped his lips. Kraw lust was a force in itself. It could bring me to my knees or knock the breath from me like a battle blow.
I showed my warrior that I was a force of my own, and with a groan that was nearly a growl, Dal brought me to the grassy floor and took me. He was not gentle. He was not slow or tender. And I didn’t want him to be.
Chapter 8
The Cost Of Destiny
“What’s the meaning o’ this; just up and leaving the whole town defenseless like that? After all the work ye’ve done you’d think your heart would be in it more,” Kenni said, brandishing a ragged toy frog with fury. Her new sword bounced at her hip, trifling in the face of her maternal wrath.
“What happened to the woman after we left?” I asked.
Lianne gave us an odd tilt of her head in the dim light. “Watched you lot take off like skinny-dipping school boys bit in the cocks, then just disappeared,” Lianne said, splaying her fingers. “Poof.”
“That she did. And left all this mess, too,” Kenni said, gesturing to the glowing white moss everyone was doing their best to peel and scrape away. It kept growing back.
“Odd stuff, that white muff plant,” Lianne said.
“Was anyone else… affected by her presence?” I asked with a slight grimace.
Kenni and Lianne gave each other a shrug. “Curiosity,” Kenni said, “nothing more.”
“Then you are fortunate,” Dal said.
Watching my palm with a wince of apprehension, I called a flame to it, just to see if my gift was back in the absence of the Nialae. The flame burned bright, as beautiful and painless as always. I sagged with a sigh of relief.
“Thank the stars,” I whispered.
“Seven hells, Sera, what’s happened to you?” Kenni asked, a horrified look on her face as the light hit me.
Not knowing what I looked like, I couldn’t make much of an excuse. I glanced at Dal, whose gaze feathered over me in a caress. I recognized the lust in his features at the sight of my roughed-up appearance.
Lianne burst out laughing. “King’s spit, they took a rough tumble in the hay, they did.”
Kenni widened her eyes, then glared at Dal. “You rotten son of a bitch. Thought you was better than the rest, I did. Thought you cared.” Kenni raised her fists and beat at Dal, who only raised a shoulder to her assault.
“You misunderstand,” Dal said.
“—Like hell I’m going to listen to that nonsense you sick beast of a man! Lying to us all this time, treatin’ her like the rest of these rotten sacks of meat treat us—”
“Oh hells,” I muttered. “Kenni, it’s alright. Kenni! Calm down, no, stop hitting him!”
But Kenni was pummeling at an amused Dal with relentless fury.
I tried to holler over the snarls of her rage. “Listen—No! Get her sword!”
Lianne and I grabbed for Kenni’s arms as she unsheathed her sword and took a mighty swing at Dal. He sidestepped with ease.
“I won’t hear of it, Sera! Too many women fightin’ for their abusers, all confused in the head, it’s just bloody perfect for the man, ain’t it. Well I’ll not let my hell be yours too, I won’t! You want change, we’re startin’ here!” She was swinging her sword with such fury that neither Lianne nor I could get close to her.
“I wanted it!” I yelled over Kenni.
People were beginning to stare. Kenni lowered her weapon tip to the dirt, and Dal turned his attention from the quibbling humans to the white moss, frowning as his gaze wandered over the odd plant.
“I wanted it,” I said, quieter now. “Kraw are rougher. I guess you’d have to experience it to know,” I said, my face getting hot.
“Seven hells, Sera, he beat you he did,” Kenni whispered to me, eyes fixed on a deep bite in the spot that connected my neck to my shoulder. That one had been a climax that rocked my soul.
I laughed. “No, far from it.”
Lianne laughed, rocking back on her heels. “If there weren’t Kraw in her before, there bloody well is now,” she said with a hoot of mirth.
“She chose me as her guard long before we were mates,” Dal said. “Her safety has always been my foremost concern. I assure you I bear the marks of her passions as well.” Then Dal gestured to the white moss that was fast becoming permanent. “We have more pressing matters to address.”
Kenni gave me a frown of concern. “Jaffer says we may have to leave it.”
“Kinda pretty, when you look at it, ain’t it,” Lianne said. “Bloody shame we have no idea what it is or who the woman was.”
“Her name was Ysiel. They’re Nialae,” I said, flexing my fingers in my flame, wondering if I could remove the plant.
“They? King’s spit, there’s more of them?” Lianne gaped.
I shrugged. “I suppose so. We only met the one woman. They’re very powerful, but she seemed to think Dal and I could help her.” I flicked some of my flame at the moss, and it didn’t seem affected. It was a bit like trying to use my gift on ice. A cold deflection, nothing for my fire to feast on.
“Help with what?” Kenni asked, watching my experiment.
“She did not share yet,” Dal said. He ran his hand over the white stuff with care. I shifted my gaze to Dal’s eyes; watched as he dissected the problem in front of him.
“It is cold,” he said with a frown.
“Oh aye, not the most pleasant thing. But Lianne’s right, it’s lovely,” Kenni said.
“Bloody stuff better taste good, could use a stroke of good fortune ‘round here,” Lianne said.
“Dal,” I whispered, wanting to know his thoughts. He rose with a sigh, glancing at the rising moon.
“They are here to stay,” he said at last.
“Let them then, the bloody pale cowards,” Lianne spat into the dirt. “I’ll run ‘em through like rats on a spit.”
Kenni curled her lip at Lianne. “Eat rat, do you?”
Lianne hiked up her armor. “It has a heartbeat, it makes meat,” she said. “Can’t always have the luxury of bein’ picky.”
I ran my fingers through my hair, which had come loose earlier during Dal’s rough loving. “What in the world do we do?” I asked, looking up at my warrior.
Dal turned to walk toward our tent, stationed between town and
the woods beyond. “We leave,” Dal said. I trotted to keep up.
“What’s gotten into this Kraw of yours?” Lianne asked. “One look at trouble and he pisses himself and turns tail.”
Dal turned on Lianne with a snarl. “I have lost much in many wars, but I have lost most here in this world. I still have much to lose, and I will not risk it again.” His voice had risen to a near roar, and my eyes widened at his outburst.
Lianne and Kenni stopped in their tracks at Dal’s snarl, which exposed large canines. Other villagers looked on at Dal as the very monster they feared.
I took a careful step over to Dal, placing my marked hand on his large shoulder. I knew deep in my bones that I had nothing to fear as I crooned to him. “You will not suffer loss again, love.”
Dal softened at my touch, pulling me close with a deep sigh. I couldn’t begin to guess what was bothering him tonight.
“No,” he said in a low voice, releasing me and facing Kenni and Lianne, “there won’t be any more loss. But you would be wise to guard yourselves around these Nialae. They have silent, terrible weapons you cannot fight.” And then he marched away.
Lianne shrugged at me, and Kenni bit her lip, moving away to scold her son for playing in the white moss. I turned and followed Dal into the privacy of our tent just behind town, flicking a careless flame at the unlit pyre in town square as I passed. No one thanked me for the light.
When I entered the tent flap behind him, Dal was shuffling about in the dark. I lit a flame in my palm to see him packing our things with haste.
“Dal,” I whispered. So much had happened in such a short time. If the Nialae were staying, then perhaps my world was in trouble. I had saved it once before; was it arrogance that made me consider the possibility that I could save my people a second time?
“We cannot stay for this Nialae to approach us a second time,” Dal said. “A species with power such as theirs will not sit idle for long.”
“Dal.”
“War will not be our burden again.”
“Dal, stop.” I commanded him. He obeyed, stilling his hands with a sigh.
“Many things have become clear to me tonight, Sera,” he said, raising his gaze to mine in my firelight. The quiet green I had come to love in his hazel eyes was shrouded by the cold brown; guarded.
“What has become so clear to you that you would flee like so?”
Dal shook his head. “War. It does not just change worlds; it breaks the people whose backs it rides in on. I was made for this, and yet I cannot save those I love from its torment. The deeper my love, the deeper their pain.”
My mind tumbled over his words. “Your first mate died with your child in her arms.” The horror of it spilled out of my mouth. Unfairly. Stupidly.
Dal’s gaze was level with mine. “You have suffered more than she ever will. Death was merciful compared to what you endured, Sera. Never doubt that.”
Stunned, I opened my mouth and closed it again as Dal returned to his packing. It was too much to address, so I changed the subject.
“You don’t know what Ysiel wants,” I said. “Perhaps it’s as simple as directions, a lie told to another, simple knowledge of our world. We don’t know.”
Dal gave a half laugh, sardonic, and met my gaze. It scared me. “I know what she wants.”
“How? How could you possibly know?”
“You have seen the world from my eyes, you know what I am capable of.”
I let off a harsh breath, remembering the way he saw more details than I could ever take in, and how his mind sorted them like clockwork. “Yes, and it’s rather unfair of you to unravel the mysteries of this world and the next without confiding in me. Where does that leave me? How in the seven hells could you possibly stand by the side of a creature so inferior? What do I have to offer you but ineptitude and simpleminded musings?” I bit my lip, hard, and turned away, wishing that I had more filter where Dal was concerned. I let my flame go out, comforting myself with darkness that only I saw.
“Forget that I said that, I don’t want to hear the answer,” I whispered.
Stillness met my ears, and tears pricked my vision as I shook my head at my own foolishness. My words hung in the air, fragile and dangerous as glass.
Large hands met my waist, pulling me close to a firm body. He was so stealthy for such a large man. Dal’s deep voice whispered into my ear. “You have never been inferior, Sera. Not after taking a Kraw army and closing a leyline, and not on the first day I looked into your eyes in the back of that cart. You do not know how often you bring me surprise when the unknown spills from your lips. There is more to you than your gift. More to you than a Warlord hidden under soft skin and graceful bones. And you wrong us both by thinking otherwise.”
I didn’t know what to say to any of that, so I turned into Dal’s embrace, pulling his lips to mine in the darkness. And this time, it was not rough or demanding. He tasted me carefully, as he did the first time, in the dark, a lifetime ago, on the edge of an existence we didn’t know if we would survive.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“The fault here is mine. If I had not insisted on coming to Sunwold, we would be in my world now. We should not stay here.”
I tangled my fingers in the silken strands of his black hair. It was hard to be mad at him for his mistakes. “She’ll find us,” I said. “No matter where we go. She found us when we ran.”
“Yes, and she will find us again. I had considered that, and hoped making us inconvenient to access would deter her request. In the least, the town will be safe from her allure. I regret that I have no other options.”
“It’s only a request, Dal. We can decline and move on; find a place to hide until at last we can leave.” A request that I was afraid to ask about. I didn’t want to know what she wanted, because then the request was made, and I had to consider it. Perhaps Dal knew this, too, and did not share with me so that I might remain unburdened.
Dal moved away from me, and our bed of furs rustled in the dark as his weight settled onto them. His hand found mine, and he guided me to stand between his powerful thighs where I found comfort at our contact.
“We are already involved; and you will find her request hard to refuse.”
“No, I don’t believe that. The Nialae cannot force us to take part in their world’s strife.”
Dal kissed at my neck, his teeth grazing my skin, sending desire shooting down my spine to pool in my belly. “And you would abandon the people of Sunwold?” He asked. “After we have delayed our passing for them? You would leave Kenni to the unsure grounds of this new life in the hands of these Nialae?”
“And you would?” I asked.
“Yes. I would let this world burn for you. But I also know that you would fight with everything you have for these people, and so the Nialae have tools of persuasion beyond their allure.”
“Their allure; you fear it. Were you so affected by her, then?” I asked.
“More so than you,” Dal said into my collar bone. Again, his teeth grazed me in the darkness. His even breathing in the inky black around me became a sensual beat to my blood.
“You cannot know that,” I said on a sigh.
“You know that Kraw can smell everything, including desires.”
“And her,” I pressed, “is she at all affected by her own power?”
“Yes. Or perhaps just me.”
I laughed. “You are arrogant, aren’t you?”
Dal gave a half laugh, giving my shoulder a gentle bite. “You enjoy my arrogance.”
“So I do,” I said on a breath.
Dal stilled then. When he spoke, his voice was hesitant. “I do not want to face her again.”
“Is my warrior frightened?” I said with a smile.
There was silence for a moment. “I do not like having my control tested.”
I recalled how stiff he was when we met Ysiel by the false river. The pale spots left on his arms from powerful fingers digging in. “Is your want of her so great?
” I whispered.
“Yes. And no.”
Logical thought fell into the pit of my stomach. Along with my hammering heart. The magic of her allure had affected me as surely as it had him, hadn’t it? Yet I couldn’t force my way past the hurt.
Dal’s large hand came to rest on my chest, over my heart. “Your pace has quickened. You are upset.”
“Damn your Kraw senses,” I said.
“She is not desirable to me, Sera. Breakable, coy, secretive. And she is not you, my mate. And yet, when she is near, I cannot subdue the calling of my blood. This is not true desire; it is an ability being forced upon me. It is nearly as cruel as what Patroma had done to me.”
“Stars above, nothing is that cruel,” I whispered. “But… What if you lost control around Ysiel?” The memory of Dal’s shattered restraint jolted through me. In the presence of the leyline, both of us became the embodiment of carnal need. He would either break her or make every other man in existence lesser to her.
“I would hate myself as surely as you hated yourself after the Warlord,” Dal said, regret tinging his tone.
I swallowed the lump of despair that the memory dredged up. The terrible things that the Warlord had done to me before I killed him. “Then let us be rid of these Nialae. Let’s leave and decline to hear their pleas.”
“You are sure,” Dal said, hands brushing up and down my back.
“Yes,” I said, trailing my own hands down his muscled front. “We can seek solace from my people and refuse these Nialae their quests until the shortest day passes. Just us. It’s only six months, we can manage.”
“Thank you, Sera.” And at that, my warrior held me close for a time. No words were needed to express the loss of our departure, or the sorrows of our past that the conversation dredged up. Dal was right, no good deed is without cost, and here was ours.
Despite our conviction not to get involved, I knew deep in my gut that my world would never be the same after today.
∞∞∞∞