by L. R. W. Lee
“Aimil?” She swears. “Is he—”
“Long story that’s not worth telling. Aimil said he’ll be fine in a couple days.” I’m in no mood to recount the tale, and I give her a clipped answer because I’m not sure if I should be mad at her for not telling me or not.
She gives me a long look but my pissiness kills any questions she may have.
“How’d you know where I am?” Blunt and to the point. I run a finger along the handle of my blade.
“Harp told me where to come. He’d know because of your bond.”
“Seriously?” I can’t believe this bond allows him to track my whereabouts. Talk about big brother.
I wave off her comment. I can’t deal with this right now.
A bird calls to a friend, who answers back.
“He wanted me to make sure you’re okay.” She scans the area. I can only guess she’s looking for threats.
I huff. Even after running, I can’t get away.
“I don’t recommend spending the night.” Concern fills her eyes.
I don’t care. “I’m staying.”
Nuria exhales. “Then at least let me ensure your protection… as my friend.”
Friend. Her friend.
I’ve enjoyed our conversations, but I give her a hard look nonetheless.
“Please?” She’s ancient, almost like Harpoc, yet I believe her when she calls me her friend.
I let a corner of my mouth hitch. “Fine.”
She smiles.
A second later, I feel the ground shake. My breathing labors and my gaze darts about. Earthquake? But before I can react, the tremor ends.
“Give me your hand,” she says.
A second later, I step out of her shadows, inside the ancient ruin and look around. But this place is no ruin.
“Did you?” My mouth drops open. She did the same thing Harpoc did to that maze where we sealed Zephyr. I need to learn this trick sometime.
She laughs. “Only the best for my friend.”
I refuse to ask whose room this used to be because I’m afraid I know as I spot a lavishly appointed, gray covered, four-poster bed with gobs of black and silver pillows lining the headboard.
Elegant sheer gray curtains with black rose accents line the glassless windows and flutter in the hint of an early evening breeze. It brings the scent of jasmine to further enhance the finely appointed, yet comfortable room.
A mixed bowl of ripe jungle fruits along with a loaf of freshly baked bread from the smell of it, a butter knife, and butter sit atop a modest table beneath the open window. A lit lantern fills out the balance of the table’s contents.
A second later, shadows appear in the fireplace that I could stand up straight in. When they disappear, there’s a cheery fire crackling in the grate that promises that while I’m cold toward a certain someone, this room won’t be.
The archeologist in me longs to ask if this is the way this room used to be way back when, but I shut her up.
“The fire as well as the lanterns will burn until you tell them to stop.” She gives me a look that’s asking me how long I plan to stay.
I pretend I don’t notice because I don’t honestly know how long that will be, and I focus instead on a doorway leading out of the room.
“That’s the bath and there’s a closet with a couple changes of clothes, should you need them, beyond that.” Nuria watches me take it all in, and I sense she wants to say something, so as she opens her mouth, I cut her off.
“Thank you for helping me.” A short dismissal.
But instead of hushing her, she sets her jaw and says, “It may seem unfair that he didn’t tell you of your bond right away, but you didn’t exactly take the news of having secret magic and being immortal very well. How was he to tell you something of this magnitude without upsetting you?” She raises an eyebrow.
I draw a hand and cover the hole in my chest. Direct hit. Harpoc said she was a straight shooter. He wasn’t kidding.
I’ve never been one to shun responsibility. I’ll woman up to not taking his revelations well. But come on, it was just four, count them, four days ago, for pity sake. She makes it sound like it was no big deal. Hardly.
I have secret magic, and I’m immortal. I’m still trying to wrap my brain and heart around it. But she thinks I should have just accepted it? Ha. I’m not a machine. I’d trusted him… implicitly and asked him to be forthcoming. He’d agreed, and I’d thought he’d been frank and candid since I came here. He sure fooled me.
Shame on me.
It felt like a betrayal, and my heart still hasn’t completely adjusted. Now, to add this….
Only being this pissed off at him shields me from a small part of the hurt.
He had no right to keep something like this, another world-shaking truth, hidden from me. This is my life. Come on, he’s a freaking god. Get some big boy pants. He should have told me.
I open my mouth to say just that, but she cuts me off.
“I’ve set wards to keep any creature, large or small, from entering these rooms so you’ll be safe. I’ll be back tomorrow evening to check on you if you haven’t returned before then.”
With that, she disappears in a swirl of shadows, and I’m left alone again with my thoughts. It’s a good thing too because I’m torked with Nuria now, too. I understand she’s loyal to Harpoc, but give me a break, everything doesn’t revolve around him. I have feelings to.
I exhale sharply. “Nuria.” It comes out a growl.
I set my tile knife down on the table and hang my long coat on the back of one of the two chairs before scrounging in my pants for my ring.
So much has happened, and I long to feel… what?
Normal? I huff as I look my ring over. Somehow I don’t think I’ll ever feel “normal” again, but as it slides into place, some sense of calm falls over me despite there being a secret no one can breathe a word of, related to it.
While that sends a wave of angst through me, I still feel better as I rub the back of it—I refuse to flirt with thoughts of my parent’s treachery, it’ll only make things worse.
I wander past the bed, running my hand along the fine covers as I do, then head out onto the abundant balcony, one end of which overlooks that tree lined terrace two floors below.
Dusk has well and truly fallen, and I take a seat in one of the wooden chairs that has roses carved in the back and along the arms, and take in the view of the ruined city.
Two of the three moons are low on the horizon and reddish tonight. It’s so peaceful, and as I listen to the night sounds—crickets chirping, owls hooting, along with a couple other somethings trading yips and bays—I inhale deeply, letting my frustration go.
Bond mates.
It doesn’t make my breathing labor this time. That’s progress.
I sit enjoying the solitude until night closes in, then wander back inside and help myself to a ripe mango. The juices run down my hands it’s so fresh and so sweet.
I’ve only known Harpoc for a dozen days. Twelve. Not that I’m counting. When did he know we share a bond? I ponder as I chew.
How did it even happen? I mean, it’s not like we’ve been…
I shake my head.
I’ve no idea how bonds work, but twelve days… it’s a blip on an immortal timeline, especially for something so significant that I’m guessing will last the rest of my eternal lifetime.
The thought fries a circuit in my brain.
Another question follows on its heels. If Harpoc had told me right away, whenever that was, how would I have responded?
I sigh.
Nuria’s probably right. Not well.
And he knew that. I’m not sure what I think about that.
As a rule, I never respond well to significant changes that I have no warning of. Who does? I’ll fight whatever it is, even if it’s supposed to be good for me, because I can’t stand feeling corralled like a pig in a poke.
Yes, I’m a firm believer in personal freedom, as well as justice.
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br /> “Mate.”
“Harpoc is my mate.”
“I’m mated.”
“We share a bond.”
I announce it to any critter who cares, as I run the words around my tongue trying to accustom myself to them. And the more I do, the more clear I am that I don’t have a grasp of the full meaning of it.
But there’s nothing to be done about that tonight.
I grab a fresh, fluffy washcloth from the bath, wet it, then clean up the trail of mango juice I left on the table. I sweep the bread crumbs off the table and toss them out the window for whatever creature wants them.
There’s nothing else to do, so I clean up in the bath and put on the pair of shorts and T-shirt I find in the closet, then slip between the soft sheets of the overlarge bed.
Last night I’d been spooned in his arms, my back against his bare chest. He’d woken me from a terrifying nightmare in which Glass soldiers demanded I give them my ring.
A chill snakes up my back.
The night before, I’d been his teddy bear, his subtle citrus-with-a-hint-of-cloves scent filling my nose.
It’s the safest and most protected I’ve ever felt.
I swallow.
Mate.
My bond mate.
Somehow, this fine bed… it feels cold and empty with just me.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
I curse the bright sunlight that shines through the windows, right into my eyes. I throw an arm up to shield them.
It takes me a minute to remember where I am and why.
I survey the huge bed with only half of the covers disturbed, and that lonely feeling reignites an ache in my heart.
A multitude of birds exchange morning gossip along with… maybe it’s squirrels, maybe monkeys, that chatter, I’m not sure. No doubt I’m a topic of conversation, a hot one too judging by the raucous hoots—yeah, what’s that idiot in those lavish digs, doing living among us, all by herself?
Mate.
My mate.
It’s why he wanted me to know the real him.
I haven’t had coffee so the thought nearly takes my breath away as it clobbers me over the head.
This ancient, supersecretive male who treasures privacy above all else, wanted little noob me, to know the real him… because we share a bond. We’re mated.
Gotta love subconscious thought. Is that what my brain was doing all night? Putting the pieces together? It waited until I’m barely awake to spring it on me.
But it has to be. It makes way too much sense.
It’s, no doubt, also why our magic blended in the garden.
I inhale sharply.
I need coffee, but ain’t no way I’m getting any out here in the middle of nowhere.
“I know, it’s my own fault,” I say, before my inner minion can make the point.
Nuria provided the basics, including toiletries, and I stumble into the bath, clean up, braid my hair, then dress in the clean, gray T-shirt she left and don the black pants from yesterday.
When I come back out, my nose instantly… picks up… the scent of…
“Ah!” I don’t care how it happens; I’m just overjoyed it does. A cup sits beside a steel French press on the small table. And there’s two toasty warm cinnamon rolls on a plate, as well.
Coffee and cinnamon. Two of my favorite smells.
I grab a roll and take a bite as I pour myself a cup of coffee. Nuria needs a promotion.
I amble outside with the plate and have a seat.
My mate.
Harpoc’s a private guy. How hard has it been for him to reveal the things he has about himself?
The thought makes me stop chewing midbite.
Some of what he’s shared has been very… abrupt. I attributed it to his vow to be forthcoming for once and not sugarcoat anything, but is his seeming clumsiness because he’s unpracticed with revealing anything personal?
I finish chewing as the thought marinates.
He’s a god. Somehow I expect that to mean he’s got everything under control, but maybe he doesn’t, secret magic case in point.
Has he been struggling, trying this whole time, to let me see parts of him no one ever has?
I’ve taken it for granted, but if so… my heart warms.
My mate.
I’ve been falling for him... I know I have.
But I ran.
I take another bite while I contemplate my reaction.
I’m no different from him. I’ve never had an intimate relationship with any guy. How much more intimate could one with him become?
My breathing labors.
Am I ready?
The thought scares me. I quickly finish the final bite of my cinnamon roll and stride inside, chucking the plate on the table. My heart’s pounding.
I planned to lose myself in this ruin today, and it’s what I aim to do. Harpoc gave me the quick tour the first time, but I want to take my time and appreciate all that’s here.
I chuckle. Taking my time, appreciating all that’s here… sounds like an oxymoron for this situation because twelve days is anything but slow for getting to know someone.
I grab my blade from the table and head for the black door that Nuria must have added when she did her hocus pocus because it’s strong, along with the ornate silver handle inlaid with a rosette that shines as I grip it.
Yesterday, I blocked out the notion of this place revealing more about its founder, but in the light of morning, I reconsider.
My mate.
What more might I discover about him from the rest of his rooms?
I enter the first. Nuria’s magic didn’t touch it, so it’s bare of furnishings, and there’s dust and vines that have grown in through the windows as far as the light stretches. But the simplicity of the ancient floors, identical to the bedroom’s, strikes me as I enter what I’m guessing was a sitting area.
The bareness of the floors hadn’t struck me until now, when I look at things with a trained eye. Unlike so many ancient buildings where the owner took the opportunity to show off his wealth with intricate tile work, these floors are unadorned.
Seems he’s never been one to flaunt, no surprise there. Or maybe he’s always appreciated simplicity… although sealing secrets seems anything but simple.
Rose insets adorn the walls, looking like a rose bush gone nuts—I expect nothing less—and there’s another hulking fireplace just like the one in the bedroom, but other than that, it’s very plain—four walls with four paneless windows running down one side.
I head to the next room. My best guess, it was an office. It’s the right size for one. Again, the accoutrements carry over with their surprising simplicity considering he’s a god and the head honcho. The only addition is a niche of four shelves carved into the wall.
He told me he didn’t find much time to read. I guess that’s not a new thing.
I find a kitchen with more spartan décor—although one of the cupboards is oversize, and I wonder if it’s where he kept all his spices. I can’t help but smile.
Collecting spices is as unique a hobby as he is a being.
There’s five more living spaces to round out his haunts. They’re all very simple, a bachelor’s pad on steroids.
There’s no signs that more than one being ever lived here—there was only one sink in the bath, one office, one anything. I wish I could see it furnished and decorated; I’d know for sure.
How many lovers has he had in his immortal existence or has he always been a solitary soul?
I’m tempted to try recreating the rooms with secret magic like Nuria did, but I don’t want to accidently have the place come down around my ears.
Maybe I can get Harpoc to do it up big.
The thought pulls me up short.
No, I’m not ready to see him yet.
I keep going.
Exiting his rooms, which no longer have their double doors, I find myself in a grand foyer with smallish windows circling a rose-embellished domed ceiling that allows the sun to
illuminate an otherwise dark space.
I’m immediately impressed by the ornate tile floor—it’s a sweeping design of black and gray shadows swirling about the polished stone column that adorns the middle. The column might well be support for the dome because it extends floor to ceiling and wasn’t taken when they relocated the capital.
The side closest to me has the largest carving of four—a face that looks remarkably like Harpoc’s, perhaps a few years younger. The three other faces are smaller, but very good likenesses of Nuria to the right, Idris around back, and another of Aura, as suited her fancy at the time, to the left.
Are the three suites off this foyer Nuria’s and the others? It seems more than coincidence. There’s a grand stairway that descends who knows where, between two of them.
I realize I’ve no idea where any of their rooms are at the current castle. I shake my head, unsure where I fit in after everyone kept me in the dark... . No, I don’t want to go down that path right now.
Did the four gather here like they do now in the café? Is this where they enjoyed each other’s company and experienced life together? Is this where they were… a family?
In this moment, I realize the four of them are just that… they’re a family. After being rejected by three potential adoptive families, I stopped hoping to ever have one. It hurt too much.
My mate.
If I allow him to be that to me…
I swipe at the… the dust, in my eye. Yeah, dust.
Sure, Pell. Whatever you say.
Shush.
I take a deep breath.
I could have… a family.
I don’t abide all the secrets. I know it’s secret magic’s fault and Harpoc’s just a pawn, but how am I to harmonize my head with my heart?
I keep going, touring what I’m guessing are the Core’s rooms, then continue on down the grand stairway and work my way through several rooms on the second, then first floor. There’s a plethora of carvings of Harpoc’s face. I guess it makes sense since he is the emperor, as well as a god, despite not wanting to show off.
My mate… is a god.
I still can’t quite get my head around that, try as I may.
Funny enough, Harpoc’s rooms are the only spartan ones I find.