Chapter 5
“Amemory?”
Vadis folded his arms across his chest and nodded.
First, gamers would have to solve the riddle. He imagined more than a few would need to use one of the pay-for-play hints to decipher it. From there, single players would likely have it easier since he couldn’t imagine many people would be happy about revealing a precious memory in front of others.
It was genius, and downright insidious.
“What kind of memory?” Tira asked as she marched across the sands to stand directly in front of him.
“I’m not certain, but my guess would be one that you wouldn’t want to lose. A memory you cherish.” He figured he’d gotten in right when a set of wooden steps materialized out of nowhere next to the boat. “I’ll go first.”
Ascending the stairs, he stepped into the boat, surprised when it neither rocked nor swayed under his weight. Unsure of what to do next, he waited, watching the ferryman for any signs of how to proceed.
For several seconds, nothing happened. Then, without a sound, the god reached out with his twisted staff, pressing the knotted end to the center of Vadis’ chest. The rod glowed gold, and twin flames appeared beneath the figure’s hood, right where his eyes should have been.
Fog gathered, swirling into a cloud suspended above the boat like a massive holo-screen. His head swam, his muscles contracted, and pressure built in his temples as he felt foreign tendrils slither through his mind. Memories flashed by in rapid succession, one rolling into the next too quickly for him to follow.
After what felt like an eternity, everything, including his mind, went completely still.
A single strand of golden light trickled from his temple, tumbling and spiraling through the air before disappearing into the mist. Held immobile, Vadis could only watch as the memory danced across the sky in real time.
For a brief moment, he had worried the recollection would be embarrassing, but the feeling has been fleeting and superficial. He didn’t believe in regret or shame, and he definitely didn’t have any secrets from his mate. They might not know each other that well yet, but eventually, he wanted her to know everything about him.
The good. The bad. And the…questionable.
This time, though, he needn’t have worried since Tira had been present for the memory the game had chosen. He didn’t know how the AI decided what constituted as suitable “payment,” but he definitely approved.
A vid of the two of them strolling along the moonlit beach played across the misty screen. A smile danced over his mate’s lips, just a small curvature that transformed her ethereal beauty into something truly angelic. As they walked, he reached out for her hand, capturing it in his own, and though she appeared startled at first, she didn’t pull away.
Still trapped by the god’s magic, Vadis couldn’t move, but he sighed mentally, remembering the satisfaction that simple act had given him.
Tira Meadowlark was a guarded female, cautious and distrusting. Whether her innate personality or a reaction to something from her past, he couldn’t say, but he vowed to find a way past the walls she had built around herself.
There on the beach, when she had gripped his hand and leaned against his arm, it had felt like a monumental victory. It was only the first step, though, and he knew the road ahead wouldn’t be without its obstacles.
Yet, no matter how long it took, or how much effort it required, he was determined to prove that she could rely on him. Trust him. That he could be her safe harbor, her refuge in the turbulent storm of life if she would just let him.
The memory ended abruptly, the fog dispersed, and the magical paralysis lifted. Shaking out his tense muscles, Vadis glanced over his shoulder at Tira, studying her as he tried to gauge her reaction. As stoic and restrained as ever, her expression gave away nothing.
The markings that covered her fair skin, however, were another story entirely. While they couldn’t tell him exactly what she was feeling, he could tell from the flush of iridescent light that some emotion had been triggered by the memory.
Without a word, she strode across the sand, meeting him as he descended the stairs out of the boat. She appeared neither happy nor angry, and he found the lack of visual cues slightly disconcerting. Until meeting her, he had never realized how much he relied on nonverbal signals when interacting with people.
Even so, he wouldn’t change anything about her.
“You are a curious male, Vadis Kesski.”
He even loved the way she always called him by his full name. So much, in fact, that it hadn’t even occurred to him to correct her.
“Is that good or bad?”
In response, she inched closer, crowding into his space, and fisted the front of his tunic. With a sharp jerk, she pulled him forward and down until their lips were barely a breath apart. His heart hammered, and his cock instantly swelled at the proximity, but he held perfectly still, waiting to see what she would do.
“I’ll let you know once I’ve decided.” Her tone held a seductive purr, and she leaned in to rub their cheeks together before releasing him and sauntering away.
Oh, she was a fucking tease. She knew exactly what she was doing to him, and judging by the sway of her hips, she enjoyed it. Despite his frustration, Vadis liked it, too. He had always enjoyed a good hunt, and he had no doubt his mate would give him one hell of a chase.
The only question was if she would allow him to catch her in the end.
Gliding up the steps, she stepped into the boat and faced the ferryman with her shoulders back and her head held high. Yet, he could see the tension in her back and the way the muscles in her jaw ticked rhythmically. She clearly had reservations about what came next, and frankly, he couldn’t blame her.
Laying one’s soul bare wasn’t exactly a relaxing experience.
What he hadn’t anticipated was the brutal sense of possessiveness that overwhelmed him when the boatman began to lower his staff. A menacing growl built in his chest as he leapt onto the bow and grabbed the end of the knobby stick before it could touch his mate.
Other than a couple of slow blinks, Tira didn’t physically react to his outburst. And when she spoke, it was with the air of someone inquiring about the weather.
“What are you doing?”
“I don’t like him touching you.”
His little elf looked between him and the ferryman a couple of times. “You do realize that he isn’t real?”
Yes, he knew that, but it didn’t seem to matter. His instincts were in hyperdrive, overriding any semblance of common sense.
“Captain, you have ten minutes remaining to complete the current level.”
Vadis jerked his head back to snarl at the sky. “Don’t talk to my mate!”
“Unable to comply,” Evo responded.
He was pretty sure he detected a smirk in the AI’s voice. “If you have something to say, just say it to me.”
“Unable to comply.”
“What the fuck do you mean you can’t comply? Why not?”
“I have determined that your request contains multiple fallacies and is therefore illogical.”
Yeah, she was definitely laughing at him.
The worst of it was that if he had been on the outside looking in, he’d probably be laughing at his absurd behavior, too. Sure, Krytos could be fiercely territorial, but he had never heard of anyone being jealous of a fucking software program, no matter how advanced or complex it was.
Tira studied him for several uncomfortable moment before turning her attention toward the sky as well. “Evo, what happens if we don’t complete the level in the allotted time?”
“You will be forced to exit the game and will have to wait twenty-four hours before attempting the level again.”
“And I just have to get across the river to complete the level?”
“That is correct.”
Tira bobbed her head slowly. “Thank you, Evo.”
“My pleasure, Captain Tira.”
He still wished the damn AI would stop addressing his mate directly, but he had enough presence of mind to keep his mouth shut that time. Not a drastic improvement, but still, progress.
“Vadis Kesski.”
“Yes, daka?”
“You can release the ferryman’s staff now.” Her lips curved into a rare and knowing grin. “I assure you I am in no danger.”
Oh, right. He’d completely forgotten he was still holding onto the knotted end of the wood. “Are you sure?”
Her smile brightened a degree. “I am quite certain.” She turned away to stare into the darkness on the other side of the river. “Besides, we’re running out of time.”
True, and he damned sure didn’t want to go through the whole ordeal again tomorrow. With a resigned growl, he unfurled his fingers and jumped off the bow into the sand below.
Although he repeatedly told himself he was being irrational, it didn’t change anything. He fucking hated every part of this, and the idea of another male—even a computer generated one—coming anywhere near his mate made him feel positively murderous.
Folding his arms over his chest, he locked down every muscle in his body, forcing himself not to move as the end of the staff descended toward Tira’s chest. Mist gathered overhead, forming a giant screen, and a thin tendril of golden light floated from his elf’s temple to the clouds.
Any disappointment he felt at not seeing himself in the vision quickly evaporated to be replaced by curiosity. A sun-drenched field, nestled between mountains and blanketed with wildflowers, played host to two tiny females.
Dressed in matching tunics, the children laughed as they sprawled on their backs in the grass and pointed up at the sky. Vadis instantly recognized his mate, though he guessed she couldn’t have been more than ten years old in the memory. The girl beside her appeared younger, but he could see the family resemblance. A sister, or perhaps, a cousin.
And that was it. Just that one, brief scene. Then, as quickly as I had come, the fog retreated, leaving only darkness once more.
Of course, Vadis had questions, but he also instinctively knew Tira wouldn’t want to talk about the memory just yet. So, he pressed his lips together and said nothing as he joined her in the boat again.
The instant his feet left the steps, they disappeared, and the boat began gliding smoothly across the inky water.
“My sister,” Tira said after several seconds of silence. “That was the last happy memory I have of her.”
Although he detected no anguish in her voice, Vadis’ heart still ached for his mate.
“I’m sorry, daka.” He caught her hand where it dangled at her side and linked their fingers together, pleased when she didn’t pull away. “Did she die?”
Tira didn’t look at him but continued to stare straight ahead across the river. “No.”
In some ways, that was worse because it meant something had happened. Something had torn the siblings apart. While he couldn’t begin to guess what had caused the rift between them, he sensed it had been Tira who had chosen to pull away.
“Do you have regrets?”
“No,” she answered without hesitation, confirming his suspicions.
There was something there, though, something in her voice. Not regret, no. Not exactly sadness, either. If he had to put a name to it, he would call it…disappointment.
“I’m still sorry.”
She squeezed his hand gently and dipped her head without looking at him. “Me, too.”