Chapter 38
Chapter
Thirty-Eight
Selene.
The past.
The tent quivers as the warrior’s boots walk past. Their harsh, loud steps felt as natural as my heartbeat. As their shadows fall, the fabric groans and flaps.
I stand like a cloud ready to thunder down tears as the rows of soldiers march to battle. I scan my tent, spotting my bed. How many cots will remain empty? Without a body, how many blankets won’t warm up? How many miles will remain untrodden by the warriors who won’t march home?
My teeth sink into my chapped lip. I shut my eyes and turn my head toward the door. Swords running over whetstones, strings being pulled into bows, soldiers doing last-minute war rituals were as common as brushing the knots from my hair.
“I’m tired,” I whisper to no one.
I tug on the straps of the helmet I stole. My fingers trace the arch of the longbow. I will not wait for another victim in the healer’s tent. I’m going to battle, dammit, and I’m fighting!
I’m done. I’m weary in both body and mind. I’ll go out in glory. Better than being bartered away as a pawn to another king.
The weight of the quiver I swing onto my back helps strengthen my spine. I move toward the back of my tent, dagger ready.
“Selene,” Everett whispers my name softly as he enters. Even from afar, his shadow reaches and grazes me.
The echo of my gnashing teeth grieves my ears. “Don’t stop me.”
A faint breeze stirred by his step cools my sweaty neck. “Then don’t ask me to.”
I knew he’d come. After all, he can see snippets of the future. My turn is lightning—a flash of fury with screaming eyes. His broad shoulders, covered in battle-scarred armor, absorb my stare rather than deflect it.
He can afford a new armor, but he’s the type that wears a pair of boots till the soles are riddled with holes.
His golden skin has lost its luster. He’s got more dirt than freckles staining his cheeks. Under all this war-stress is still my older brother, the handsome fae prince who should be married, plotting safety in the palace walls with our father, not fighting in battle.
That’s why I love him. He risks it all for others.
That’s also the part I abhor.
I lost him decades ago. It’s my fault. I should have told an elder about his foresight. His sanity might have been preserved if they’d helped.
The inhalation of my lungs may fracture my lower ribs. “You’re in love with a nightmare you refuse to wake up from. Stop meddling,” I say softly.
“That is my path.” His unblinking eyes study me, never letting me go. It pulls at my heart, makes me feel incredibly loved, a rare item on a shelf adored and admired, trapped behind glass.
“Leave it. Walk on a new one.” The feathers on my arrows—in my quiver on my back—rest against my shoulder. They blur in the corner of my eye. Ready to be set loose in battle.
“All roads must end, Selene.” His chin lifts, not in pride but in resignation. “I’d rather decide the ending.”
“You continue to drag me back, making promises, but I wake up alone. Let. Me. Go.”
“It’s not your time.”
“If we can choose paths, I pick this one.” I stab my longbow into the ground.
Callused hands cup my face. “You’re not listening to me,” he murmurs.
“I’m going to fight.” I peer at his chin, unable to meet his eyes.
“I know. I’ve seen it, but today is not that day.” Slowly, he unbuckles my helmet and places it back on the stand.
“Why?” My lip trembles.
He holds my jaw, pressing firmly so my lips still. “Do not cry for death. Weep for life; it’s far more precious, sister.”
“You’ve taught me how to fight; you’ve always supported me, told me not to cower, but in the middle of a battle, you force me to remain behind.”
“I saw this day, and it changed everything. You snuck out and never returned. You died by friendly fire because you were not in the war room. You didn’t know we had archers hidden in the west, directly where you ran to fight the vampires.”
I shake off the chill that covers my skin. “Then let me die with honor. Let me fight by your side.”
His jaw is stone.
I throw my hands up. “I’m nothing more than a piece Father moves on his chessboard. An item you move.”
My words are a blow that turns his face sharp. The sounds beyond the tent are silent. He’s trapped us in time. “You and I are going to die,” he whispers.
I shove down a gulp. For years, he trusted me. Then it became too much for me to bear. I chose myself over him. At the time, it was the only way I could survive without descending into madness.
I regret it every day. I walk this world blind to his plots.
“Tell me something I don’t know. Everyone must die.
” I brush off this statement. What should I do?
Sit and cry? I’m not that type of girl. “We’re standing in the middle of a war camp.
Let today be that day. I can’t live like this any longer, Everett.
Healing fae who are forced to go back out and fight. What are we fighting for?”
He takes my hands. “When we die, it’s going to be purposeful.”
“Oh, thank the gods for that,” I scoff as I step back.
Everett pins me with his stare. “You stopped believing in the gods, Selene.”
“They stopped believing in me, Everett!” I throw my longbow at his chest. It clatters at his feet.
“Look where we are. Surrounded by death, and the cause of it. You and Father have forced me to be friend and foe; I heal so they can fight to the death again. That’s not honorable. You have turned me into a monster!”
“That’s man’s fault, not the gods,” he retorts, shaking his head as bitterness coats his words.
“If we are their children, shouldn’t they care about us? Where the fuck are they? Why don’t they want the war to end?”
“Who says they don’t?” he sharply replies. “Every parent has to let their child go. We must watch them fail or succeed.”
I shove past him. “I’m fighting.”
The time bubble snaps, prickling my skin. “Guards!” he shouts.
I whirl around. “Don’t you dare.” Two guards come to my side, each grabbing my biceps.
Everett steps closer. “You can spend the battle in the healer’s tent or locked up. It’s up to you. Today will not be the day you die.” He storms past me, never looking back, which means today he won’t die either.
I’ve never been scared of dying. How can I be? Everyone must. I came to terms with that early on.
I never imagined I’d die with my mate’s cock buried so deep inside me I saw the heavens. An ambush of colors, senses, tastes, and smells I can’t define.
And when he bit me, fed from me… it changed everything.
My heart? Erupted.
When he drank that first mouthful of my blood, I was reborn.
Ever since Everett stopped me from dying in battle, I’ve been waiting for death to claim me. After my brother's death, I hoped my death would be soon. I longed for it, for the pain and grief to stop.
Then Titus showed up, and everything shifted. I sensed he was my mate. I hated it. If I were mated, I would have to endure overcoming the grief of Everett’s death. It’s a dirty fact I don’t want Titus to know.
I stopped thinking about death. I was focused on keeping Titus alive. There is something else I haven’t told my mate, a deep knot in my stomach that is so anchored and buried, it can’t be freed. So I cut it loose from my ship—my mind—I stopped thinking about what Everett hinted at.
But now I feel it, a huge barrier blocking all the warm fuzzies settling in my belly.
I praised Titus for being brave. Yet here I am, lying under him, floating between consciousness, lost in an orgasmic high. I’m a hypocrite. A part of me wants to convince him to run away, so we both can just find a cave to live in and fuck in till the end of our days.
That’s a happy ending Tristen would applaud.
Everything Everett has predicted is coming true. Everything… including my ending.
The problem is, I don’t know when it will be.
Titus is with Adrian. Tristen has remained outside my door as I sit, hugging my knees. I’m sore in the best way possible. I wish I could bask in that.
I should sleep more, but the tea I just drank makes closing my eyes impossible.
“Tristen!” I shout. A moment later, the door opens.
“Did you call?” He pokes his head inside. His goofy grin is a defense, buying him time to dissect his prey. Look deep in his eyes, and you’ll see the offense he’s hiding. He’s a lethal weapon, just what I need to protect my mate.
He makes you laugh because you step closer and speak freely. He’s waiting to gobble up your secrets and turn them into weapons. He uses his thick lashes to make you think he’s a ladies’ man looking for his next hookup.
In truth, he’s scanning the crowd, spotting the predators that might prove deadly to his family.
“Come,” I wave him inside.
He steps into the room and rubs his ears.
“Sorry, I wasn’t sure if you called. I’m still deaf from all the sex screams. Next time, can you warn me to descend a flight of stairs?
” He holds up his hands. “Listen, I’m happy Titus got laid, but…
yeah… I don’t need to hear it, which is odd because sometimes Nero and I share.
I don’t mind when he’s there, but Titus is too much like a parent. ”
I wrinkle my nose in distaste. “That’s a lot of details I didn’t need.”
“Oh, you’ll need them. We hold shit like this over each other's heads.” The edge of my bed dips as he sits.
I know what he’s doing, babbling to remove the awkward air, so I’ll lower my defenses.
He continues, “Wait till you meet the others. Ryker is a scary fuck. He produces more grunting sounds than words, claiming it’s his wind magic talking.
He looked at a guy once on the battle field.
One look from Ryker and the guy stab himself.
True story. One less person to kill. It wasn’t a fae, so I mean no insult.
Contrary to what you think, we don’t kill fae for sport.
Oh, and Ryker’s eyes are violet. Freaky shit. ”
I cross my legs, feigning a relaxed position. “Violet?” I’ll indulge him.
“It’s an odd color, right? Have you ever seen violet eyes?”
“Can’t say I have,” I respond. “So you and Nero are together?” I thought Nero was like his brother? Maybe I was wrong and they consider Nero family because he’s Tristen’s partner.
“Together?” He scratches his head, “Not like that. We just share sometimes. He’s a copy-paste of me. We like the same thing, a woman sandwiched between our bodies.”
“So there are two of you to worry about?” I arch a comical brow.
“Twice the pleasure.” Tristen smirks. “Not that you’ll ever experience that, nor would you need to. Tell me, is sex with a mate all it’s cracked up to be?”
Hiding my blush is impossible, so I answer, “Yeah. It’s like having sex for the first time, but it doesn’t hurt. Every sensation is new, hard to explain. You want it again, and again."
“You’re not bashful. Bonus points.”
“What’s with this change in attitude towards me?”
“Blame it on mood swings. I’ll be honest: when I first realized you were his mate, I wanted to find a way to break the bond.
But I realized that either way, I’d lose a part of him.
If I broke the bond or kidnapped him, he’d never forgive me.
He’d always try to get back to you. I had no choice but to jump on this bandwagon and help two star-crossed lovers. ”
“That’s quite a rendition of the truth.” I think you’d still pull us apart if you could. I don’t blame you.
He shrugs. “What can I say? I like to embellish.” He hesitates. “Well, not when it comes to myself. I have no lack of confidence when it comes to my cock and how good at sex I am.”
I roll my eyes.
“I should warn you, Ember is not going to like you at first. She’s our sister, crazy protective, double standard because when we chase guys away from her, she bitches up a storm.” He grins at a memory.
“And what about Cyrus? You don’t mention him as much.”
Tristen’s playful demeanor vanishes. “We’re protective of his privacy.”
“Why?”
“It’s a need-to-know basis.” He shifts closer to the edge of the mattress. “Why did you call me in?”
“I can see Cyrus is a button,” I murmur.
“Yes. Don’t push it.”
I throw my hands up. “I won’t. But if I’m part of your family, I’ll need to know why.”
“Family bonds are earned.”
“Noted,” I reply. “Are you this hot and cold with the ladies?”
“Only one certain one.”
“How special.”
His eyes darken. Did Titus teach him how to camouflage so seamlessly? “What did you need?”
I bite my lip, feeling the ache in my neck from where Titus fed from me. The wound has healed thanks to him. “You’d do anything for your family. I…” I inhale sharply. “I need you to do something for me.”
He leans closer, pressing his elbow on his knee. “Something naughty?”
“You could say that.”
He jolts back. “I don’t like that tone. Here I was, coming into your room, thinking we were going to have fun and play a joke on Titus, but that tone tells me you want me to keep a secret from him.” The mattress squeaks as he stands. “Don’t ask me to do that.”
I lunge forward and grab his hand. “I just… If I ask you to give him a letter, would you?”
He snatches his hand back. “I was just starting to like you. What do I call you? Sister-in-law sounds insulting to the bond.” He hems and haws. "Mate-in-law."
“Tristen.”
“Don’t!” he snaps with a wicked tongue. “You can give him the letter.”
“What if I’m not here?”
I hear his teeth grind before he flashes his fangs. He walks to the door and grabs the handle. “Newsflash, mate-in-law, you’re not going anywhere.” He slams the door shut.
I walk to my desk, light a candle and, with shaking hands, I begin to write Titus a letter. Tears stain the page. Just as I pen the final word, I remember the conversation Titus and I had when we first met. Ironic that it was about final goodbyes.
Titus coughs, but his voice only deepens. “During Everett’s final battle, he caged me. Stopped time. My brother was on the outside, moving more slowly. I witnessed swords sink into flesh; I saw the prolonged confusion that death claimed them. I’d rather die instantly than watch the seconds pass.”
The hand of my brother’s killer slips into mine before I can stop myself. My actions shock us both. There’s a spark that curls up our arms. His fingers hug mine.
“Some say a slow death is more precious; it gives you time to say your goodbyes,” I murmur.
“What if I don’t want goodbyes?” He studies our held hands much longer than is appropriate.
Titus doesn’t want a long goodbye, and that’s what a letter would be.
I hang my head. “What am I doing?”
The edge of the paper curls as the candle’s flame begins to burn it. I hurry, walk to my balcony, and release it. The wind carries it, up, up, up, then it's gone.