Bane of the Wild Hunt (Heart of the Tithriall #2)

9. YOU FELL HARD, BROTHER

Chapter nine

YOU FELL HARD, brOTHER

Sage

I did not want to move. Summer was completely wrapped around me, sleeping more soundly than she had since I’d carried her through the portal, but having her so close was soothing me too. There was a lingering buzz in my blood, a knot in my stomach, the urgency of fear still echoing in my bones from the moment I thought she’d been killed. And it reminded me uncomfortably of the near-feral rage that had gripped me after Ciaran attacked her.

So I laid with her. Once my fire magic created a little cocoon of heat around us, she sleepily peeled out of her outer tunic, leaving her in a short-sleeved undershirt that exposed her arms. I could not help touching her, although I did try to make it as noninvasive as I could. I traced the faint, whitish stripes on her tanned arm that was draped over my waist and did the same on the one between our chests with her hand clenching my bicep under her head. Her skin was as smooth and silky as new petals, far softer than anyone I had ever touched before. And I quickly learned every natural contour and scar on both of her limbs. I watched the rising sun set fire to the vibrant red of her hair; watched the shadow of her lashes stretching across her cheek; watched her lips part around every deep inhale and the steady pulse of her heartbeat that was visible in her neck. I was mesmerized by the way her furred ears laid so peacefully still when they usually rotated on constant alert. And the utter serenity of her expression that betrayed how safe she felt sleeping next to me.

I devoured her, this creature for whom I had sacrificed the trust of my brother riders without hesitation. The fear for her life had left me starving for her every breath and every flutter of her heart that meant she was still alive. The frantic obsession of it was making me feel unhinged, and yet I couldn’t stop, couldn’t help but touch her, and couldn’t look away. I greedily consumed all of her like a drug that had already laid waste to me somehow.

It had been almost an hour since my mother came to tell me that my sister had finally given birth to a healthy baby boy. They were expecting me, but I simply couldn’t seem to pull myself away from the female sleeping so deeply in my arms.

“She will not vanish if you look away,” Ciaran berated me suddenly, and I winced in embarrassment that he had observed my deranged stare. “You fell hard , brother.”

“It is not that simple,” I objected as I began to finally extract myself from Summer.

“No? Perhaps you could explain it to me then because, from where I’ve been sitting, it certainly looks that way,” Ciaran informed me drolly.

“The bond makes me… When she is threatened…”

Ciaran raised his brows, waiting for a full sentence, but I was not sure how to put it into words when I really didn’t understand it myself. The feeling like there was something potentially monstrous inside of me that might tear down the godsdamned world if she was hurt. It was not natural. There was no way it was natural. But I could hardly deny it, didn’t even want to deny it anymore, so I would honour it instead. Honour her and this connection. To whatever end, I would protect my anam .

“I cannot make you understand it,” I said instead of trying to put something so impossible into words.

I slid free of the dryad, doing my best to ignore her soft moan of objection to my departure. That little sound. Gods . I did my best to ignore the tug it ignited in my gut that tempted me to crawl back to the bed, and I tucked her in again instead. Then I invited Pyrope to nestle in closer and keep the dryad warm in my absence.

“Sage—” Ciaran began once I had stood.

“I know you do not trust her. I know ,” I reminded him before he could begin to lecture me again.

You’ve known her less than a fortnight, he persisted stubbornly, getting up to follow me away from the fire and using our bond to communicate so no one could hear.

“I know,” I snapped back, turning finally to face him. Don’t you think I am as well aware as you are of how mad it is to feel like this?

Ciaran stared at me, looking like there was something he wanted to say, but he held back.

“Last we spoke about it, you agreed to be respectful. What has changed?” I asked him reluctantly, and his eyes widened at me in confusion that I could not know.

That was before she repelled Rian even after being depleted in battle and before you abused his sanctity to protect her without any hesitation, he answered.

I almost killed you when you attacked her only a short time ago! You cannot be that surprised that I—

“Rian is our leader and your cousin ,” Ciaran cut in, and then he released a reluctant sigh as he glanced away in uncertainty of how to make me understand his point. Rian always said that you had the potential to be his counterpart with your magic. You’re a Light Wraith, Sage. You wield the Light of our Sylvan ancestors, he stressed, looking at me beseechingly. Even if you have not yet learned how to use it effectively, it is still there in you, Ciaran added sternly when I opened my mouth to remind him of this very fact. Ornella has immense power, and she certainly knows how to use it. Are you not afraid that she could use your magic through the anam bond?

“No,” I growled aloud in frustration. “Why would I fear someone who risked their life to defend my family?”

“Because you don’t know anything about her or this bond between you that is so rare that all our people know about it comes from myths and legends. All we have to go on are stories about these bonded pairs who quite often destroyed one another and everyone around them!”

“Perhaps because those were the only stories that were worth passing down through the generations,” I pointed out stubbornly. “There have probably been hundreds of nameless anam who lived perfectly ordinary lives.”

Ciaran looked severely disappointed in me as he tilted his head with a frown.

Sage, it is not like you to be willfully ignorant.

“What do you want me to say?” I demanded.

“I want you to acknowledge that it is important for you to know who and what she is!” Ciaran insisted. And then he hesitated, and I knew there was something more that he wanted to say. Aodhan said dryads can manipulate their anam . They did it to him. Forced him to be bound to a female that he hated. Perhaps this dryad—

“No. They have to manipulate the bond at birth.”

“She told you that,” Ciaran argued. “She might not be a reliable source of information.”

“But my father is, and he has trusted the legitimacy of this bond from the very beginning,” I insisted.

“Carrick is… optimistic,” Ciaran pointed out with as much sensitivity as he could manage.

“Do not insult my father,” I growled.

“I am not! But I think his sheer enthusiasm would likely outweigh any righteous caution.”

I drew in a deep breath for calm and held it a moment before releasing a long exhale through my nostrils.

“I understand what you want. I agree that we do need answers from Ornella. But did we not see the same battle last night? She gave her blood and magic freely to keep our warriors standing strong, and then she came back through the portal to get the rest of our people to safety. She stepped in front of Rian to defend us, and you still doubt her intentions?”

“We did see all the same things,” Ciaran assured me. But apparently I am the only one who has the good sense to be afraid. Sage, she is so much stronger than Aodhan, and he was a prince of the Ruadhán and the grandson of Danu herself!

She said dryad females are stronger than males.

“You are missing the damned point!” he hissed at me in frustration.

“I’m not missing the point, Ciaran, I merely refuse to treat her like a villain after she saved the lives of every single person that I love the most,” I maintained.

“How am I treating her like a villain just by wanting to know what she is?”

“Because she does not want you to know!”

“And you don’t find that suspicious?” he demanded.

“No. All I know is that she has spent most of her life running away from her past. She knew that revealing her power might make us question her, but she chose to do it to save my family. I know that we need answers from her, but I have found her to be much more forthcoming when she feels safe enough to share on her own. Be patient.”

Ciaran stared at me, his eyes wavering between mine as he processed my resolve against his logic.

“I need to go see my nephew. You will not accost her. You swore the last time you overstepped that you would allow me to handle my anam how I deemed best!”

Ciaran sighed, clearly still frustrated, but he finally nodded in reluctant agreement.

I trust you, Sage, but we may not have time for you to coddle her. If she is who I know we are both thinking she must be, then Rian will not wait for you, he warned me.

I nodded solemnly, sensing his unspoken suspicions in his mind which were the same as mine after I’d seen the dryad absorb Rian’s power. Rian would know it too.

This needs to be handled sensitively. She might not even know about Aodhan, I pointed out.

Seems unlikely she will have any more remorse for it, Ciaran dismissed.

“You don’t know that,” I objected, thinking back to my conversation with Summer while I was braiding her hair. We’ve only ever heard Aodhan’s perspective. She may have a very different story to tell.

“Her reluctance to tell us anything is not making me feel very confident in her,” Ciaran responded before he turned away to head back to the fire.

I walked through the trees to the clearing on the plateau where my people had portalled to safety. I had already stepped up in my mother’s and father’s absences to set a watch in shifts and ensured everyone had been able to locate their surviving family. We had already begun a tally of all the villagers who were presumed dead with the family sigils and symbols of our lineages which were my people’s only written language.

There were too many familiar names on the list.

Most of the aes sídhe had taken shelter amidst the trees around small campfires to escape the wet snow that had begun to fall during the night. Now the plateau clearing was eerily silent with rows of carts covered in icy snow that glimmered in the morning sun. Very few families had bothered to erect their yurt, knowing we would be moving again soon, but those with injured or vulnerable members had set up a cluster of tents. Among them, I saw the yurt with its canvas walls dyed red and painted with black pictographs of brayr, the token animal of midwives.

I was completely taken off guard when a sudden wave of uncertainty washed over me at the sight of the red-and-black tent. I had been nothing but eager to meet my niece when she was born. But it had not occurred to me until that very moment that I might have a different reaction to meeting her new brother. The revelation that I had almost become a father was still so fresh, and then we had been attacked, so I hadn’t had a chance to fully process it yet. And I was horrified to realize that I was not entirely sure how it would affect me when I held the new baby.

Serafin had followed me from the campfire and stood waiting behind me. He gave a whine when he sensed my rising fear and uncertainty.

I stood there for a full minute, just staring at the tent and not knowing how to proceed before I managed to force one foot in front of the other. I crossed the clearing, weaving with a single-minded determination through the carts to the red yurt. I raised my hand to part the beaded entrance but hesitated when I noticed there were footsteps in the snow leading into the forest. When I peered around the tent, I saw someone in the gloom of the trees behind, leaning heavily against a pine with their head resting back on the trunk. Serafin uttered a growl, but I recognized her silvery-blonde hair right away.

“Orlaith?”

My ex lover jolted in surprise and glanced over at us without meaning to, allowing me to catch a glimpse of her teary eyes before she averted her face.

“Sage! It’s about time that you got here. Shay has been demanding to know where you were,” she berated me. Clearly trying to infuse her voice with lightheartedness while keeping her face turned away from me.

I hesitated in uncertainty of whether to approach her, especially in the midst of such an emotional moment. How much interference did she want from someone who had broken her heart and then abandoned her? And was it my place to offer comfort to the mate of another male?

“Are you… Can I do anything?”

“No! I’m alright. I’m so happy for Shay, and of course I wanted to be here with her. I just… I just needed to take a moment,” she admitted finally, her voice dropping from that forced high of optimism to a more honest waver.

My heart ached for her, for the anguish and yearning she was barely keeping contained. And I decided it didn’t matter if we were not together anymore. We were friends for centuries before we ever became lovers, and I would not turn my back on her suffering again.

I stepped away from the tent, motioning for Serafin to remain before I walked over to her. I would have stayed a respectful distance away, but I could tell from her harsh breathing that she was becoming emotional. So I touched her elbow in a gentle offer that she accepted instantly, throwing her arms around my neck with a gut-wrenching cry as she began to shake with violent sobs.

“I’m so sorry, Orlaith,” I said, my voice unexpectedly rough with my own emotions as she shook against me. “You are a good friend, wanting to be at Shay’s side now, but I know my sister would completely understand if you needed some time. Your loss is still so fresh. You have to be kind to yourself too.”

She was too distraught to respond, so I shut my mouth and just focused on holding her while she unleashed the pain that must have been festering for some time. I could not imagine how much suffering she must have been keeping private during my sister’s pregnancy and labour. And I would not have been helping matters for her with my calloused refusals to see or speak with her when all she’d wanted was to share some of that grief with me.

“I wasn’t sure if I wanted to try again, wasn’t sure if I’d survive losing another, but… He is so beautiful, Sage. So perfect,” she sobbed after a few moments when she was able to breathe. “I made myself hold him, I just had to know, and he felt… so perfect in my arms.”

I squeezed her tighter as I nodded.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered again because I had no idea what else to say. There were no words I could offer that would alleviate her pain, but I still tried. “I’m so sorry.”

“I just don’t understand what is so wrong with me,” she hissed abruptly through her teeth, taking me off guard with the speed at which she went from sorrow to seething. “Why am I being punished this way?”

“This is not a punishment, Orlaith,” I told her sternly. That much I did know. “It’s not your fault.”

“Then why do I keep losing all my babies?” she cried.

I did not have an answer for her. It wasn’t fair. It was cruel and senseless, far beyond my power to fix for her, and I hated that there was nothing I could do.

“éanna wants to try again right away. He keeps saying these losses happen sometimes, we have to keep trying , but he still doesn’t know about yours. He doesn’t know that I might be… wrong inside. And I am scared he will regret marking me when he realizes that I might not ever give him children.”

“éanna has loved you since we were children, Orlaith. Trust me, I tried to dissuade him from it often enough to know that his feelings are unquestionable and beyond all reproach,” I reassured her. I allowed some of those old feelings of exasperation to bleed into my tone and was relieved when she made a soft snort of amusement.

Orlaith loosened her arms around me, and I let her go so she could step back. She kept her face down as she wiped her tears thoroughly before looking up at me.

“Thank you. And I’m so sorry, Sage, I didn’t mean to tarnish your first meeting with your nephew. I know this might be a little… strange for you too,” she pointed out, watching me curiously.

She still wanted to know how I felt, but I was not about to add my uncertainties to her burden of losses. There were other people in my life to whom I could bring those things. I would not dump them at her feet when she was so much more affected by the miscarriage.

“You did not tarnish anything. We were friends before anything else,” I reminded her sincerely.

Orlaith nodded, her head still cocked as she eyed my face in the way I knew meant she was trying to see into my head. She had so often berated me for my reticence, and while she’d definitely been right about it, she was no longer the person with whom I needed to be more open.

“Have you told Ornella?” she asked, almost as if she had seen my unbidden thoughts as they manifested.

“No. There has not been time, and I’m not really sure it is something I want to discuss with her,” I admitted, turning my head toward the tent entrance.

“Why?” she asked, instead of taking the hint that I did not want to talk about my feelings with her either.

“I don’t know,” I lied, but I knew that the last thing I wanted to share with Summer was this: my great shame. She finally trusted me, and the thought of telling her that I’d abandoned my unborn child, even unknowingly, made me feel sick. I had no idea how she would react or if it would change the way she thought about me.

I could tell Orlaith was disappointed that I still clung to all those walls that we spent so many nights fighting over, but she eventually nodded.

“Alright, well please tell Shay I returned to my teine ,” she bade, and I nodded. “And thank you again.”

I waited until she disappeared through the trees before finally returning to the front of the tent where Serafin had already curled up under a tree to wait. I smiled at him in reassurance when he gave a soft whine before I slipped inside the beaded tent entrance and out of the wind.

“Sage,” said my mother instantly, grabbing my elbow before I could even look around. She raised her brows, and at first I thought she was reprimanding me for being so late, but then I realized she was ensuring I was alright. Perhaps she had gone out to comfort Orlaith and had seen me with her instead. So I gave her hand a quick squeeze and offered her a smile to put her at ease before I looked up for my sister.

Shay was reclining against her trunk on a makeshift cot of cloaks and what looked like a wagon coverlet. Unfortunately, there had not been much thought given to making a new mother comfortable while everyone was packing our village in such a rush.

My niece, Rory, was tucked close to her mother’s side. They were both watching the healer, Orlaith’s sister Ivie, methodically tap the bottoms of my sister’s feet. I guessed Ivie was making sure that Shay still had full feeling in her lower extremities.

Rory’s mood brightened considerably when she saw me approaching them.

“Dapa Sage!” she cried, although Ivie raised a hand to prevent her from springing upright and jostling Shay.

“One-Eye,” I greeted my niece with the nickname I’d given her when she was a baby and prone to keeping just one eye closed. It still made my sister roll her eyes as I leaned over to kiss her forehead. Her hair was damp from labour, and I thought she seemed a little pale.

“Mama had another baby!” Rory informed me as she scrambled into my lap when I sat next to them. I hugged her and turned when she pointed to the corner where the midwife, Raquela, squatted with my sister’s mate, Verin. They seemed to be checking the premature baby while Ivie’s daughter, a healer in training, washed bloody rags in a basin next to them.

“Took you long enough,” said Shay, reclaiming my attention with her playful reproach.

“I’m sorry. You feel okay?” I asked her, unable to help feeling concern for her. I knew childbirth was difficult and dangerous, but my elder sister was always so strong and proud that it was unsettling to see her so exhausted.

“Oh, I’m fine now, but remind me not to ever go into labour in the middle of battle again, won’t you?”

“Yeah, that was not ideal timing for anyone, Shay,” Ivie teased as she pulled the blankets over my sister’s legs and around her waist. “You’re lucky Ornella found you.”

I looked at my sister for an explanation, but she had raised her head to Verin who was approaching with their new baby. The bundle was so tiny in his hands that it made my heart skip.

“Ronan, meet your Dapa Sage,” said Verin as he knelt next to me and Rory so I could look down at the little face that was still an unnerving reddish colour.

“Ronan,” I repeated, glancing up at my mother who now stood across my sister’s cot from me and brushed her hand affectionately through Shay’s damp hair.

“For my father,” she confirmed proudly, and I looked back at the baby in satisfaction. My maternal grandfather had been the only one in our family to actively encourage me to become a rider, and he’d demanded that Rian come home more to help me train. I missed him bitterly.

“Rory, come here and let your dapa hold your brother,” Shay encouraged her daughter, holding out her hands.

“That’s okay, help me hold him?” I asked Rory who nodded eagerly in agreement. She put her arms on her knees with her little palms turned up the way she had no doubt been told to sit while holding the baby.

Verin shifted in front of me to gently deposit that tiny bundle into my hands which hovered over Rory’s lap.

“He’s so little,” the toddler commented, and I grunted my consensus as she braced her hands under mine as if she really were helping me to hold the baby. “We have to be very careful with his head because his neck is not very strong yet,” she informed me matter-of-factly.

I looked down into that tiny face and waited for the crushing pain and regret that consumed Orlaith, but it did not come for me. There was a tug of helpless curiosity for what might have been, but there was no yearning or regret about the path I’d chosen with the Wild Hunt.

“He is… perfect, Shay,” I told my sister who watched me with the same curiosity that Orlaith had, waiting to see how I would be affected. They both seemed to expect me to feel something different, something more , but I was relieved not to be impacted more deeply. I was grateful to be spared the gut-wrenching anguish Orlaith suffered. Thankful that I could hold my nephew and smile at him with nothing but love and thankfulness.

“His first breath was the hour of sunrise. He is just six pounds, but he is already so strong,” said Verin proudly, looking like he wanted to take his son back already.

“Did you see Orlaith outside?” Shay asked me.

“She was alright, but she returned to her teine ,” I told my sister who looked at once relieved and saddened as she nodded in understanding.

“And Ornella is alright?” asked Verin, surprising me with his inquiry since he and Shay had been clear about their distaste for the dryad from the very beginning.

“She is still sleeping. She drained herself,” I admitted, and then closed my mouth before I could tell them anything more. It was better not to tell them about Rian, and not just because I didn’t want them looking at Summer with the same suspicion Ciaran did now. I also did not want to villainize Rian. I had no doubt my father would also forget to mention how my cousin almost killed us when he returned to the village.

“She saved the lives of Shay and the baby. Ronan was not ready to come. He was breech,” said Raquela who had finished packing up her supplies and was ready to depart.

“What?” I demanded, looking at Shay who appeared exasperated by her midwife’s comments. My sister was a proud female who hated to admit when she was wrong.

“She… found me. I didn’t know for sure if the baby was coming,” Shay defended. She looked down into her lap as Verin put his hand on her shoulder to squeeze in consolation. “There wasn’t enough room in the clearing, and I knew we were about to be crushed by our own people against the mountain. I had Rory with me, I was pretty sure I was going into labour too early, and I didn’t know what to do. I was scared,” my sister admitted.

“Any longer and the baby might have gotten stuck,” Ivie insisted to me even as she squeezed Shay’s thigh.

“Your mate also asked the old forest to move for us,” Raquela added. “Many would have been trampled at the end if she had not made the room.”

“Everyone in our village owes her an immense debt,” my mother chimed in sincerely.

“I’m sorry, Sage,” Shay spoke up again, and my brows rose in surprise at her since my sister never apologized. To anyone. “I was wrong about her.”

I looked from one grateful face to the next as it really hit me just how close I’d come to losing everything. I had already told Ciaran that Summer saved us, but sitting with the rest of my family, holding the newest member, it sank in with a new and rather painful clarity.

I owed Summer everything .