by Lisa Kumar
“I ... yes ...” He flung himself from the chair, and panic knocked a frightened expression across his face. “I can’t do this right now.”
He was unnerved. Somehow, she knew that. She felt it. His emotions were all over the place, and he didn’t know how to deal with them. For so long, he’d repressed all feelings but hate and anger. He really was a novice at this whole feeling thing.
That knowledge gave her the courage to spring up after him. “You’re upset and don’t know how to handle all that you’re feeling.”
A sneer slapped into place. “You’re a mind reader?”
She shook her head, advancing on him slowly. He was merely striking out in fear, and that realization made it easier to navigate his more negative moods.
Ignoring his rigid posture, she rested a light hand on his shoulder. “I’ve been experiencing an increasing connection to you. I didn’t really notice how strong it’d gotten until after” — she hesitated, not sure how Eamon would react to what she was about to say — “your father kidnapped me.”
Eamon slumped inward as if all the fight had left him. “Danger will do that to a developing bond.”
She frowned. “What?”
He straightened and rubbed a weary hand over his face. “Aistiane no doubt knew about it all along. Damn her, we’re her chess pieces she moves around at will.”
Confusion made Caralyn a bit snippy, and her hand slipped off his shoulder. “What in the world are you talking about?”
“You know why I and the graykindred are here.”
She took a step back. “To find the fated mates and drag them back to Eria. But what does that have to do with a bond forming —” She broke off. Dear God, she’d just answered her own question. “You mean ... you mean ...”
He nodded with a solemnity that told her nothing of his feelings. “We have such a bond between us. For all intents and purposes, we’re bonded.”
Shock struck hard, and she clutched at her chest. What? “How?”
“During one of our many sexual encounters, we both must’ve had the intent, either consciously or subconsciously, to bond. Now, all our link needs is stability so it can settle firmly into place.”
She licked her lips nervously. “Oh.” The word felt weak in the face of what he’d told her, but her mind struggled to process this newest bomb. She was basically a married woman?
Given the suddenness of this life-altering change, she should seriously dislike the idea. But she found she couldn’t. In such a small time, he’d become an integral part of her life. She was traditional enough to want a husband and kids. A husband and kids. A new dread sprang up. Eamon hadn’t sounded overjoyed at the prospect, and she didn’t sense that emotion from him, either. If he wasn’t, how could she — Wait. Was there a hopeful undercurrent buried beneath it all?
Since he remained silent, the urge to fill the silence and find out the truth shot through her. “How do you feel about that?”
“The more important question is how do you?”
Without thought, she closed the distance between them and laid her hands on his chest. His heart pounded under her fingertips. “I’m not upset, if that’s what you’re asking.”
He held completely still, and she heard the breath catch in his throat. “You’re not?” he asked.
A burst of exhilaration not her own expanded through her chest until it filled every corner. She shook her head, sensing he needed her complete assurance. He was strong in so many ways but strangely vulnerable in others. “Not one bit. Are you?”
She didn’t think he was from what she sensed, but until she heard the words, she couldn’t be fully at ease.
His throat bobbed as he visibly swallowed. “No, but ...”
“But?” A little wariness trickled through her. She drew away from him an inch or two, though she kept her hands where they were. There was always a “but.” Was this a good or bad one in the scheme of things?
“You’ll have little say over how the relationship develops. Since the bond is nearly fully formed, it’ll get worse until we fully satisfy it.”
Her hands slid down his chest as she leaned farther away from him. “What do you mean?”
As if he couldn’t help himself, he glided his palms over her backside. A pleasurable quiver worked its way up her spine in response.
“This,” he said, squeezing her butt and yanking her closer. “We’ll crave each other’s presence and bodies. The more we’re in close proximity and the more often we’re intimate, the stronger the bond will become.”
Her mind spun from the double whammy of taking in all he said while being pressed so closely to him. “So you won’t have much control over it, either?”
He scowled, clearly disliking the idea. “No. The nature of the bond is to ensure that it fulfills itself. It takes a truly suicidal elf to turn his or her back on a developing bond. Though it’s happened, I’m not that idiotic.”
Though she had a basic understanding of how bonds worked, she never thought she’d be faced with one. “Are you only accepting the bond because you have no choice?”
He smacked the question back at her. “Are you?”
So he didn’t want to be the first one to admit anything. “No, never.” Her next words stuck in her throat, but she forced them out. “I care for you. In fact, I’m pretty sure I love you. Isn’t that what the whole thing with bonds is about? Compatibility and love?”
His arms loosened around her, and for a split second, she thought she’d made a great mistake. He didn’t love her after all and wasn’t even interested in trying. If he stayed, it’d only be because —
He pulled her to him and swooped down to capture her lips. The heat of his kiss seared her veins, and a foreign sensation of love crashed over her. She gasped against his mouth at the intensity of his emotions. After she scrabbled for his shoulders, she held on for dear life, feeling as if she were going to be swept away.
His tongue plunged between her lips, and his groan filled the silence. She gladly met him. After a minute they drew apart, breathless.
She found her voice and smiled. “So does that mean you love me?”
With a chuckle, he lowered his forehead to hers. “Silly girl, you know I do. I never planned on falling in love, let alone with a human. However, I was entranced from the first moment of our meeting.”
“You were?”
He lifted his head. “Of course, but I couldn’t let it show.”
“Naturally,” she said with a snort. Some things would never change, his arrogance being one of them.
A crooked grin lifted up one corner of his mouth. “You make me want to be a better person, but I doubt I’ll ever be a good one.”
She wound her arms around his neck. “As long as you no longer corrupt anyone or try to take over your world or mine, we should be good.”
His lips twitched. “I think I can do that if I try really hard.”
With a laugh she pulled him over to the couch. “I have faith in you. Under all that reserve and bluster, you’re not so bad.”
He reclined on the sofa and yanked her so she tumbled into his lap. “Is that so?”
Turning around to face him and straddle his legs, she nodded. “Totally.”
Some of the humor glinting in his eyes died. “Caralyn, you know some of my past, and none of it is good. Unfortunately, it’s a fair representation of how I’ve lived my life. Never make the mistake of thinking I haven’t committed great evil.”
She cupped his face in her hands. “I haven’t forgotten. You did attempt to kill my cousin, after all. But I also see the goodness in you that you try so hard to hide. I think if that could be cultivated instead of the anger and hate you were raised on, you’d be a much happier person.”
He covered her hands with his and gently pulled them from his face. Keeping them in a tight grip that didn’t hurt, he stared at her. “Ah, but what about all the people who I’ve directly or indirectly killed? They’ll never get that chance. Though I don’t often have
bouts of a guilt-ridden conscience, I do have my moments.”
Her heart swelled, and she squeezed his hands. “I’m afraid that is your penance to bear, but you were given a chance at redemption, so you might as well take it. You deserve it. If you can help make your home world a better place in the long run, that’ll go far in making amends, don’t you think?”
After a few moments of silence, he nodded. “I guess so.”
She knew full acceptance would come with time. He was used to thinking of himself as a bad person, an evil person, and he still found it hard to leave behind those black-and-white designations.
Though she didn’t want to dredge up every sordid detail of his past, there were still a few questions that remained. She leaned back against him. Maybe this would be easier if she wasn’t looking at him. “Eamon, though I know it’s not something you probably want to talk about, I feel that there are things about your past that I should better understand.”
He tensed underneath her but didn’t protest. “Fair enough, if you’re going to spend your life with me.”
Turning around briefly to offer him a bright smile, she said, “I certainly plan to. You won’t get rid of me that easily.” Her grin faded. “You know I’ve drawn pictures of you, and if you want to destroy them, I fully understand. Some show you bloody, with cuts similar to mine.”
“Either my father’s doing or Serrina’s ... my aunt.”
He choked out the last part as if it physically hurt him. It probably did. She laid a soothing hand on his knee. “She sexually abused you in addition to the physical abuse, didn’t she?”
“Yes,” he breathed.
She rested her head on his shoulder, not wanting to offer him what he might consider pity.
That apparently was all he needed to open up. “I won’t regale you of every base detail. No one should have to hear it, let alone you. Suffice it to say, she never treated me as a nephew. I was her toy. At first, it didn’t seem so bad. She gave me the attention and admiration I’d always thirsted for. All too soon, the lewd touches started, and so did the beatings and other physical abuse.”
Though he spoke in a monotone, the pain underneath it struck her squarely in the heart. He picked up a strand of her hair and ran it through his fingers. “Like my father, she liked to cut. Unlike him, she also wanted sex from me, and she got it. I could look to no help from my father, and my mother had been long dead. Truthfully, I didn’t want anyone to know of my shame.”
She fought to keep the tears out of her voice. “It was her shame, not yours.”
“Be that as it may, it didn’t feel like that at the time. Sometimes, it still doesn’t. I was weak, ineffectual, at the time and couldn’t stop her.” He paused before continuing on in a ragged tone. “I hated her. I hated her for every touch she took. But she was all I had and all I’d known.”
Oh, Eamon. “No one should have such a childhood.”
He laid his chin on the top of her head and laced his arms about her. “Having lived it, I’d have to say I agree with you. I know it can’t explain away all my later choices, but at the time, no one had ever really loved me except for my mother. And she’d been taken from me when I was merely a small child. After that, my hatred for humans — and for many elves, truthfully — had been cemented.”
She rubbed her arms, warding off a chill that had nothing to do with the cold outside. “I can understand how you formed that sentiment. You had a horrible life, so I imagine it was easier to just hate everyone.”
His arms tightened about her. “You’re correct about that. Many times, it’s still easier to hate.”
He sighed. “I grew into a bitter young elf who wanted power so no one could ever hurt me again. Even when I was strong enough physically to stop my aunt, she held too much over my head. Until the day she died, I was under her thumb. After her passing I felt an immense sense of relief. After all, it was better to serve just one master instead of two. Before, my father and Serrina would always tear me in two different directions in their effort to get me to do their bidding.”
“How did the wicked bitch die?” In Caralyn’s mind that would be how she’d always think of his aunt.
“Andrian killed her.”
She reared forward and turned her head to stare at him in shock. “What?”
“They were lovers for a few years. Once he found out what a wicked bitch she was — I like that apt term, by the way — he killed her.” She felt him shrug. “I wasn’t there when it happened and only walked in during the aftermath, so I can’t say if she attacked him first or not. However, no matter what truly happened, if anyone deserved death, she did.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Caralyn thought for a moment. It seemed impossible to work out how everything had happened, the timeline and the order of occurrence. “So what’s the complete story with Andrian?”
“Before her death, Andrian suspected what Serrina was doing to me. I know they argued, and he tried to get me to tell him what was happening. But I was sulky and resentful. I’d hated Andrian from the first because he and Talion were twins and looked it. By then, I already viewed Andrian as a thorn in my side.”
She sensed there was a major story there, one that would slowly come out over the course of many conversations. “When were the darkindred formed?”
His hands drifted over her stomach, drawing little circles there. “A few years before Serrina’s death. At the time my aunt and father were quarreling over the handling of them. And Andrian thought he could befriend me and change the course of the darkindred. Needless to say, only my father obtained what he wanted.”
She glowered at the television, wanting to physically attack something. “You mean he orchestrated everything to his benefit.”
“That was how he operated, always the opportunist. When he found out about the darkindred and my hold over them, he played the proud father at first. That mien was quickly dropped, though, as he saw I wasn’t going to turn the orb over to him.”
“He wanted the power.”
He snorted. “Naturally. Where do you think I received my thirst for power from? Certainly not from my mother.”
“That’s all you were taught from a young age.” She was about to say more when a terrible thought stabbed her in the mind. Whipping around in his arms, she craned her neck to look at him. “Eamon, how old is Talion’s son? Could ... could you have fathered him?”
“I never had a babe by her,” he said, resolutely shaking his head and stilling his hands. “He was born before she ever touched me sexually. Anyway, there can be no doubt that Relian is Talion’s son. Serrina made sure of that. Except for Relian’s disparate hair color, they look eerily alike, though admittedly I look like both of them, too. As does Andrian. The lineage my mother shared with Talion runs strong and true. But there was never any fear that he was Andrian’s or mine. She didn’t sleep with Andrian until after Relian was born.”
Caralyn wilted with relief against him. Though it wouldn’t have affected her love for him, he didn’t need any more ghosts in his baggage. “I’m glad she didn’t do that to you.”
“Yes, I made sure that she couldn’t, even though I didn’t think she would. She wasn’t the kind who wanted children. She only had Relian because she needed to produce an heir for Talion.”
Caralyn angled herself sideways in his lap. “She didn’t abuse her son?”
“No, she was sane enough to realize she couldn’t do that to Talion’s heir.” He paused, idly playing with her hair. “No matter what I think of the king, I’ll admit he always has had a strong relationship with Relian. That fueled my jealousy, too. My father was known as a proud, cold man. People used to say I was much like him, but I was never but a failure to him. A pawn.” His mouth twisted. “I guess our supposed similarities didn’t breed fondness between us. Not that they could’ve, because he had no paternal or even affectionate feelings of which to speak. ”
She cupped his cheek. “Your father was an evil psychopath who couldn’t experience tho
se feelings. It was just the way he was wired — the same for your aunt, too. But I think when it comes to your heart, you’re nothing like them and were misguided in many ways.”
His jaw tensed. “Misguided? Did you hear what I’ve told you? I killed — I corrupted.”
With a gentle touch, she smoothed the taut lines away. “You did, and I don’t love the fact that you committed those crimes. Guess what, though? It’s all part of the past — the good and bad — and made you into the person you are now.”
“There’s a lot more bad than good,” he muttered.
“Maybe there was.” She shrugged. “But you’ve changed. You’ve said it yourself.”
“I have, but my personality will never be all rainbows and sunshine.”
She chuckled. “I fully realize that. Trust me, I know you can be scary and intimidating.”
“The whole of my father’s side of the family were deviants,” he said, aiming a glower at her.
“Your father and aunt were horrible people, but I’ve heard an uncle mentioned a few times. He sounds like a good guy.”
Still frowning, Eamon stared at the opposite wall. “I suppose Avrin is. He’s Talion’s man — has always been, so I never had much to do with him. It wasn’t from a lack of him trying, but my father always rebuffed his attempts or had me do so when I was old enough.”
Fury at that sadistic father of his flared up. He really had cut Eamon off from all that could’ve been good in his life. Getting angry at a dead person now wouldn’t help, though.
She dropped a kiss on the strong column of his throat. “Hmm, maybe it’s time to rectify that.” But a doubt about Avrin crept in. “If you and your father were usually at court with your aunt and the king, couldn’t your uncle see something was wrong with you? Plus, I wonder what made your father and aunt so cruel and abusive?”
A long, weary sound escaped from Eamon’s throat. “Avrin did notice, and he tried talking privately to me. Of course, I didn’t confide anything to him. Then my father found out and warned him to stay away. As to what made them the way they were, I believe my father was born that way, as we’ve said. And, to some degree, my aunt was susceptible to some of his worst traits.”