Chapter 60 Meryn
MERYN
Killian’s headless body tips to the side, then collapses to the ground. A strange, blueish smoke pours from his bleeding neck, and for a moment, I see that glint of blue eyes again, Alistair’s eerie gaze.
Then it’s gone.
I inhale deep and latch on to my shadows with all my might, reining in their chaos, and quickly disperse the magic all around us before just letting go, falling to my knees in the blood-soaked dirt.
I let myself sink to the ground, empty, exhausted.
It’s so bright and sunny out, suddenly. The sky above me is clear and blue, as if everything that just transpired was only a dream.
I stare at it, dazed, and for a long moment, my mind is blessedly empty of pain and the clamor of voices and the buzz and pull of magic. The color is so pure, the blue so vibrant. It’s as though it is washing me clean.
Then the pain crashes back into me. Anassa.
I pull myself to her side, frantically checking her over.
She’s weakened, but alive. Her chest rises and falls with breath. Weeping, I throw myself across her side. “You’re not rid of me yet,” I whisper.
I pull off my jacket and press it to her wound, stanching it, though it’s thankfully already slowed to a trickle.
The howls of direwolves all over the camp bring me back to the moment. Stark and Cratos exert their control back over them, taking advantage of the chaos caused by Killian’s death and the coercion Tear’s power ending.
The wrist that holds my engagement bracelet tingles, and I lift my arm and watch wonderingly as the metal loosens, the ruby lightening from its shadow-soaked red to the unvarnished shine of a normal, lifeless gem.
As if it’s been there all along, a seam in the metal appears, just the faintest black line in the metalwork, with a simple clasp holding it shut.
Feeling like I could weep, I tentatively touch the clasp, then use my nail to flick it open, watching as the bracelet opens.
It dangles balanced on my wrist for a final breath.
And falls into the dirt next to me.
Such a small movement. Such a tiny piece of metal. My whole body is lighter.
The space beside me warms, and I shiver. He doesn’t need to speak. My body recognizes him.
I turn, and Stark has crouched down beside me. I throw myself into his arms, and he pulls me close. He crushes me so tightly that I end up in his lap, my face hidden in his neck and his pulse leaping against my lips.
Cratos has gone directly to Anassa’s side, bending down to wash her face with his tongue. “Stark, can Cratos tell—”
“She’s going to be okay,” Stark confirms. “The wound is serious, though. She needs rest and time to recover.”
I breathe out, another weight dropping from my shoulders.
His arms around me are an anchor. This is real. I’m actually finally free of Killian for good.
Neither of us needs words. Whenever comes next… I’m free.
Tears trickle down my face. They drip from my chin onto Stark’s shoulder, and I squeeze my eyes tighter shut, blocking out everything but the press of him against me, his chest so warm and solid, his embrace—his love—stronger than anything I’ve ever known.
“Meryn,” Noemi says in an uneven voice.
I pull away from Stark and look up at her. She’s smiling, but there’s a lingering pain in her eyes. When I hold my hand out to her, relief chases it away. I pull her to me and hold her, too, in the hopes that it’ll lend her some of the strength Stark just gave me.
“I’m so sorry,” she says with a sniff. She holds up between us the ring she pulled from Killian’s finger.
I accept it and hold it up in this brand-new sun. The opal glows so innocently. It shouldn’t be so beautiful. “You don’t need to apologize, Noemi. He controlled me, too, didn’t he? Nothing you did was your fault.”
Noemi gulps, tears filling her eyes, but eventually nods. “What are you going to do with the ring? With all of it?” she asks.
I close it in my fist tightly before shoving it into the bag that held the other Tears. Wearily, I step over to Killian’s body, retrieving the Tears he took from me from where they fell around him.
Shaking my head, I tell her, “No one should have the power of commanding worship. To be able to manipulate so many? Bend minds to your will? There’s nobody in the world who should have that power.”
“But the rest?” She lifts a hand to gesture at the rest of the gemstones.
Exhaustion overtakes me as I contemplate what needs to be done. “I have to get Lucien’s two Tears back to him in Astreona. And the others… there’s a part of me that wants to take the three we’ve discovered and destroy them or bury them somewhere they’ll never be found.”
Noemi is nodding along, but Stark’s expression is tight. Shadowed, even.
“You don’t agree?” I ask him.
“I agree with whatever you decide. You’re in charge.”
That answer sits sour in my stomach, but I don’t have time to draw him out from behind his walls. Killian’s war camp is coming back to life. Those caught in his magic’s tide are blinking back to themselves, staggering into the light, asking for answers.
As Stark helps me to my feet, I ask them the question even though I already know the answer. “Tormun?”
“He was under Killian’s control,” Stark replies. “But regardless, he wasn’t going to be subdued. Cratos and I did what needed to be done.”
So he’s dead, then. The Phylax pack is without an Alpha.
A rumbling noise upends Killian’s camp further. I would recognize this sound anywhere. Dozens of wolves riding together, paws pounding and riders’ minds raging with hope.
Bonded are riding down the hillsides from the direction of Blumenfall. Egith is at the head of their march, her shoulders back and her head high. I let out a small crow of victory and stumble forward.
They stand before us moments later, and I reach a hand up to her wolf, Sofos. “Anassa has been injured,” I say, though the words are unnecessary—Sofos will have already sensed it.
Egith swings down off her wolf’s back, and Sofos races to Anassa’s side.
“I’m so glad you’re safe. That you’re all safe,” I say to Egith, voice cracking with weariness.
“Thank you for getting here in time,” she tells me.
“For stopping him.” She takes a deep breath.
“Blumenfall has been steadfast and loyal to you and to all the Bonded, but there was no way we would’ve been able to hold off his attack.
Come back into the city with us. We’ll bring Anassa immediately to be tended, and we can get you set up at Lord Blumenfall’s manor. ”
I lift the corner of my mouth. “Thank you, Alpha.”
Egith bows her head. Several of the riders with her work with their wolves to bind Anassa’s wound tightly. Anassa’s own healing magic is already at work, and her labored breathing begins to ease a little.
Looking around, I realize I need to say something to the people here, the ones from Killian’s camp. As much as I want to run away to Blumenfall, tend to my direwolf, and fall into a light coma, I have to make sure these people know that I’m not the same.
I’m not like him.
So I step forward, out of the fray of wolves and riders newly arrived. I speak loudly, and I speak plainly.
“I know many of you were under an influence that you could not resist, and I understand. You will not be punished, for you had no free will. But we will have a lot of rebuilding to do together, and it will take a while for all of us to earn one another’s trust again. I know that.”
The Phylax riders closest to me are shifting uncomfortably, glancing among one another. But they’re listening.
“From here on out, we will be stronger than ever before. If you do not believe you could ever trust me, and you do not want to be a part of the pack we are building here, leave now. I will not come after you,” I tell them.
When I turn back to Egith, I see that the loyal wolves and riders have fashioned a rough stretcher out of tent fabric and poles and loaded Anassa onto it. Cratos and Ephyse and two wolves I don’t know by name carry the ends of the poles in their teeth. The sight of them bolsters my courage.
I give Egith a tight smile. “Lead the way.”
A couple of hours later, I’m standing by the hearth of the huge suite of rooms Blumenfall’s welcoming nobles gave Stark and me. Their gratitude looks like a sparkling chandelier, a wardrobe full of fresh finery, and an enormous bed that’s giving me ideas.
They even provided a massive pallet of blankets and furs to make Anassa more comfortable while she recovers.
I look at my direwolf fondly, watching her sleep. The castle’s medic confirmed that her wound was clean and healing well. Her back legs kick a little in dream. Cratos is stretched around her, keeping her warm and safe.
I stoke the fire and watch the sparks explode from the wood. Something about the simplicity of bringing this fire to life is helping me calm down after everything.
A knock jars me from my trance, and I stand to go answer. When I open it, I freeze. “Oh.”
Ruby is standing in front of me. “Am I disturbing—?”
She doesn’t even get the question out before I step aside to let her in.
“I’m glad you survived,” I tell her as she enters. “I think both Lucien and my father would have my head if you didn’t, and I’m pretty fond of having a head.”
Ruby smiles wryly. She clearly doesn’t feel entirely in her element, being here in my chambers. “Fredrich was well when you left him?”
I move toward my little fire and cross my arms. She watches me closely.
“He was. He misses you very much, but he’s taking care of my sister now.
Have you been in communication with him?
” I believe they’re able to reach each other mentally through their sire bond, and my shoulders tense as I wait to hear news of my sister.
She joins me before the flames, and they light her eyes beautifully.
“I have. He says Saela is adjusting well to her time in Brightbane. They’ve been touring around the city—he’s trying to feed her curiosity as much as possible.
He’d like… well, he’d like to enroll her into a school, with your blessing.
At least for now, until you make a permanent decision about her living situation. ”
Tears prick my eyes. A school. I thought that future was gone for Saela. In Nocturna, it would be; even with the war over, I don’t see a classroom full of Nocturnans welcoming a Siphon into their midst.
But in Astreona…
“That sounds fine,” I say through the tightness in my throat. I don’t want to think about her permanent living situation, not yet—it’s too painful to contemplate. “When you go back to Astreona, what will happen?”
Ruby stares into the flames’ light, and tension increasingly tightens her brow. When she speaks, she sounds certain of every word.
“I would not want to get in the way of their relationship. If I need to give them space, I will. However, if she would like to get to know me, I would also like that very much.”
Her words make something seize in my chest, and I look away before she can see the glimmer of my eyes clearly reflected in the firelight.
“You and my father…” There’s a lump in my throat. It’s still hard to think of him with another woman. “It’s been tough to accept that he’s alive after all this time. But I’m glad he’s here. I’m glad he and Saela can have a relationship. Thank you for saving him.”
She steps closer to me, opening her arms, and I lift my hand. “I may be grateful, but you and I are not in a hugging place yet.”
Ruby laughs and inclines her head. “Yet?” Awkward silence lingers between us before she takes pity on me. “We’ll speak more later, all right?”
I nod my assent, and then she’s shutting the door behind her and leaving me in gently crackling silence. With a sigh, I head toward the adjoining bathing chamber. What I find waiting for me there assuages my headache and soothes the stress from my muscles.
Stark leans against the edge of the massive tub with a tiny upward curl to his mouth. He lifts up a fluffy sponge, and his eyes move over me. “A bath, my queen?”
I smile and approach him. “Did you draw this yourself, Alpha?”
He straightens up. “Figured it would be well deserved. You’re not going to make me chase you down to clean you this time, are you?”
I guide his hands to my hips, and he leans over me. Immediately, he’s smoothing his touch around to my back, slipping a hand under my shirt and following my spine with his fingers. I sigh and lean into his chest. “I’ve used up my fighting energy for the day. I’m all yours, Stark.”
His amused breath tickles my neck before he kisses me there. The sponge caresses my lower back, dry but soft and full of promise. Stark’s stubble scratches my palm as I guide his mouth to mine. His fingers start to unfasten my clothes even as he kisses me in a slow slide.
I’m exhausted, but I’m lighter than I’ve been since I took the throne, or maybe even since my sister was taken. Yes, the future yawns wide as a sea. But I’m no longer anchored by a darkness on my wrist.
I can move. I can breathe.
Tonight, I can drift away into the feeling of Stark’s hips meeting mine, his hand cupping my breast, his teeth trapping my lip.
Tonight, I can soak up the light and chart a new course.
Tonight, I have him, and when he lifts me up effortlessly and steps into the bath with me, none of the rest matters.