Chapter Fifty-Eight
Daxton Aegaeon
My mate had been quiet—too quiet.
It was decided that Adohan, Idris, and Astro would remain in Crimson City, as Finn and his legion of warriors had likely reached Castor and Gunnar. The rest of us would venture toward the clearing where my armies lay in wait, and the pathway toward Thira would be unveiled.
Adohan argued against not going, but in the end, I couldn’t allow him to come.
Not with their realm under the threat of another attack and their newest addition needing them now more than ever.
I was thankful he didn’t protest much further than he did.
When the morning rays peeked over the horizon, Zola, Shaw, Skylar, and I would depart to meet the others.
And maybe, just maybe, by this time tomorrow, we would be free of the wilt.
However, something felt off. Amongst the discussions and various strategies that Shaw suggested, which Zola grudgingly agreed with, my spitfire was uncharacteristically quiet.
Shaw and Zola seemed at odds with each other, fighting a silent battle that I honestly didn’t have the time or energy to begin to decipher.
Skylar seemed to be drifting, silently floating amongst the chatter surrounding her. She was content to hide amongst the chaos, but she could never hide with me.
“Are you hungry?” I asked Skylar as we departed the gathering area.
I selfishly longed to whisk her away and keep her all to myself. So many aspects of our lives were drowning in disarray, yet all I wanted to do was steal the next few hours alone with her.
“It’s late,” Skylar said, shrugging her shoulders. “I don’t want to bother anyone.”
“I’m sure the staff would be happy to—”
“I’m not hungry,” she snapped, stopping me in my tracks.
I glanced over my shoulder, half expecting to see Shaw nearby, but to my surprise, he wasn’t.
I was unfamiliar with the inner workings of the beta and alpha bond, but I knew he wasn’t a threat.
And thankfully, Shaw seemed to understand this and made himself scarce when Skylar and I needed to be alone.
“What’s wrong?” I asked
“I don’t have an appetite.”
“Since when?” I challenged, not buying for one second that she was all right.
Something was troubling her. Through our bond, I could sense her emotions rising and falling with waves of fear and uncertainty.
“It’s nothing, Dax.” Skylar sighed as she meandered to the railing and gazed upon the slumbering city below a blanket of moonlight and stars.
“Bullshit,” I cursed as I leaned my shoulder against hers, reaching out to brush her hair and tucking a strand behind her curved ear.
She was hiding something. I knew my mate. Whether she intended to or not, the pain swirling in her heart worked its way through my center. Her sorrow became my own.
“Tell me what’s wrong. You’ve been quiet since you read the scroll.”
“Leave it alone, Dax,” she said, refusing to meet my stare. “I don’t want to do this right now. I’m trying to keep myself together. I just—”
“You know I won’t stop until you tell me.”
“Gahh,” she groaned, knowing I wouldn’t let up. “Fine.”
Skylar turned to face me, and I could see the shimmer of grief threatening to break through her brave facade. I reached to cup her cheek, desperate to catch her falling tears and make them disappear.
“Skylar,” I said softly as she nuzzled her cheek into my hand, a stray tear dampening my palm. “What is it?” I asked, pulling her close to my chest.
The feel of Skylar in my arms centered my world in a way that still managed to take my breath away. She was my anchor to this life, the tether of sanity that kept my heart beating, my lungs breathing, and my soul from crumbling to pieces.
Whatever was ailing her, whoever hurt her, would feel the wrath of Valencia as I tore through the fabric of their world—because she was mine.
“It happened in Solace.”
I stopped breathing at the mention of her time parted from me. My mind jumped to thoughts of Gilen. Anjani’s sick and twisted visions of them together after she taunted me about not claiming her flashed in my mind’s eye all over again.
“What happened?” My voice rumbled with a caged fury as my blood began to boil. If that fucking male did anything to my mate, I would end his life without a second of remorse. “Did Gilen—”
“No,” Skylar said, pushing back to meet my stare. “No, it wasn’t Gilen. It—” My mate’s voice trailed off as grief swallowed her words. “It’s Julia. She’s gone. She died in battle against the humans.”
“Gone?” My chest ached as I felt my mate’s heart shatter from the grief of losing her surrogate mother.
“I’m sorry, love,” I whispered, wrapping my arms tightly around Skylar as she openly sobbed into my shirt. I stroked her hair softly, laying a gentle kiss against her brow. “I’m so sorry.”
I knew the pain of losing a parent, of someone who loved you unconditionally with all they had. These emotions were not something she could bury within herself and ignore. The blow inevitably softened over time, but you would never forget.
“Shhh,” I hushed, trying to calm her sobs. “Let’s go to our room.”
In my mind, I pictured where I wanted to go, and in a silver flash, there we were.
Cradling Skylar on our bed, I leaned against the headboard, content with holding her until she no longer had the energy or need to cry, lending her my strength in any way I could.
The night was well underway before she was able to calm herself. The cool breeze drifted through the open window, lifting the crimson curtain to allow the moonlight to flood the space.
“Skylar, look,” I said, gently encouraging her to lift her head to gaze upon the idol symbolizing our protective Father hanging in the night sky.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, her sobs thankfully halting.
“The Father and the Mother watch over the living and those who have passed. When one slumbers in this realm, the other guards over those at the great crossing. Speak to him,” I said. “Ask him to send a prayer to Julia. I know she’ll be listening.”
“Do you think it’ll help?” Skylar asked me with tear-soaked eyes, nearly breaking my heart.
“It helped me,” I said. “When my parents died, I prayed each morning and night for years. Telling them about anything and everything. I don’t know if they heard me, but regardless, it aided in lifting the weight of the loss.”
Skylar summoned her well of courage as she squared her shoulders and gazed upon the face of the moon peering through the window, allowing herself a moment to grieve.
It pained me to witness the weight of the Meja Mountain carried on her shoulders.
Her chest heaved, and her soaked eyes looked weathered with worry.
I sent my own prayer to the ever-watchful Father, asking him to help me shoulder what Skylar could not. And when the time came that she could no longer carry the weight of the world alone, I would be strong enough to help her.
To the Mother, I prayed for her guidance. To lead me to do what was right and to shine a light on the path that would lead us to a long, beautiful life together.
I watched as Skylar bent her head, mouthing a silent prayer to the Gods.
Her shoulders slowly dropped as the tension in them subsided.
When she finished, I watched as my mate bucked up her chin, the fire I loved rekindling and burning bright within her.
She turned to me, and my soul felt whole.
I reached out to grasp her hand as she folded against me.
“At least…” Skylar whispered. “At least I know I’ll see her again.”
“You will, but not for a very long time, Spitfire,” I answered as the gripping fear of losing her damn near stilled my beating heart.
I reached out my hand and guided her to our bed. As she curled into my chest, I held her close, willing sleep to come swiftly, to wash away the weight of the day and bring the promise of a brighter dawn.