Chapter 38 PROTECTOR
PROTECTOR
Marina
“I feel fine.” Marina sent her brother a stubborn stare.
“You just came back from the dead,” Finnian chided, lifting her arm and prodding his fingers into her muscle. “My ghouls had more side effects than what you are leading on.”
She detested when another invaded her space, but Finnian’s intrusive examination did not grate at her nerves. His concern filled her with a damning hope that, perhaps, in the future, they could reconcile just as she had with Naia.
Marina rolled her eyes, feigning annoyance as he grabbed her by the cheeks and forced her mouth open, hunting down her throat. “You feel no pain? No aches anywhere?”
She snapped her jaws shut, eyeing him. “No.”
He crossed his arms, leveling her with an equally stubborn look. “Don’t lie to me.”
“Lying is useless. Like you, I have no problem being straightforward.”
At the mention of their similarities, Finnian’s nostrils flared and his eyes hardened around her. “Make no mistake, Marina, I only brought you back because you made a vow to our father.”
Marina frowned at the sting in her chest. “Naia told you?”
“Naia tells me everything.”
She averted her gaze to the sludgy groundcover, discomfort twisting her stomach. “I am sorry…” She exhaled and forced herself to meet his gaze again. “For what I did back in the Land.”
He stared at her, mirroring the scowl that she wore so well. Suddenly, she felt empathy for all the poor souls she’d scrutinized with it.
A beat passed.
“I still hate you for it.” Finnian turned his head, peering out in the direction of Tenebris.
Marina pursed her lips, her last interaction with Father fresh in her mind. One day, she would forgive herself, but today was not that day.
“I hate myself for it too,” she murmured.
Another long breath of silence twined with the breeze.
She pushed her hair behind her ear, unable to bring herself to look at him.
“You did die…”
At the playful note in his voice, she glanced at him.
He smirked, full of teeth. “So I guess payback is a bitch.”
Marina chuckled at his mockery, shaking her head as she looked back out at the land. The knot in her chest loosened. “It didn’t feel fantastic.”
“Good.”
Her grin widened and he gave a breathy laugh.
“Thank you.” She peeked over at him. “For reviving me.”
“I worked tirelessly to craft that antidote. It was my only one,” he replied, begrudgingly. “Though, you did me a favor, because now I know that it works. Not that I doubted myself.”
She rubbed at the knot that had yet to heal in her chest. When she awoke, it was with a syringe in her heart. Always the clever one. Of course, he’d crafted an antidote with Ash’s remaining blood from the day she killed Father. She’d only injected a portion into his system.
“Will I be immune to Ash’s blood now?”
Finnian shrugged. “Not sure. The only way to know is to test it out.”
“Will you create more?” Marina looked down, imagining the blood pumping through the blue veins of her palm.
“Under the radar, yes. I don’t want deities knowing that it exists, or else they will target me and my husband and our peaceful life.” He gave her a sharp look. “So best keep this to yourself, or else I won’t hesitate to hex you.”
Marina grimaced, thinking of the grisly image of their mother.
After their last encounter, it was best to create distance from Mira, but Marina couldn’t get the visual of her alone and suffering out of her head.
“Stop that.” Finnian nudged her arm. “She deserved it.”
Marina blinked at him. “How did you—?”
He rotated his body toward her, the glint of his rings flickering as he unfolded his arms. “You may come off as emotionless as I, but it is our family curse to feel deeply. Whatever guilt you feel for that horrible goddess, absolve yourself and move on. She will waste her days away in that prison, blaming everyone else for the way her life ended up, never taking responsibility for her own actions.” He looked at her with intensity.
“Best to move on and live your own life, let her walk in the suffering of her own design.”
Marina studied her little brother. His dark curls were still cut short, their ends grown over the tips of his ears, and his eyes were the same from his boyhood, low-lidded and lethal. She admired his strong-willed mind, the times he fought Mira head on, refusing to bow down to her ways.
“She is our mother.” Marina scoured his face, tracking it for any flits of emotion. “Did you ever want her love?”
The steel in his gaze softened. “Of course, but what she had to offer was not love, and I deserved more. We all did. Well, aside from the triplets.”
Allow him to grow up and experience the love neither I nor your mother were ever able to fully give you.
Marina’s nose burned as Father’s words returned to her.
Love was not something that Marina could teach their mother. Finnian was right. Mira would spend eternity in her cell, harboring more animosity toward those around her, if just to avoid the hatred she held for herself.
Marina cleared her throat, and the corner of her mouth lifted. “I told Mother that her fate was in the triplets’ hands now.”
Finnian breathed out a chuckle. “Last I heard, they were in Isolde with their tails tucked between their legs. I haven’t seen Malik once since we fought after Freya won her title.”
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about our duel.” Marina tapped him on the arm, her brows raised in a sly manner. “You owe me another. I won’t lose this time.”
Finnian scoffed. “It would be a pleasure to kick your ass again, Sister.”
Marina’s cheeks warmed, the joy of hearing him refer to her as a sister vastly consuming her chest.
Finnian’s attention shifted over her head.
She looked back as Acacius and Cassian approached. Walking side by side, their similar appearances were uncanny—ivory blond hair, golden eyes, pale skin, tall and broad builds. Their ancient power radiated like rays of sunlight, humming off one another’s energy.
Acacius wrapped an arm around Marina’s neck, kissing the side of her head.
The rush of his scent, pine needles and smoky black pepper, eased the tension in her muscles.
The rigidity had been there since she’d resurrected—something she wouldn’t dare inform her brother, knowing he would dedicate another five minutes to inspecting her.
Cassian kept his hands in his pockets as he stood close to Finnian, their arms touching. He looked at his partner, his gaze puddling like magma. “Ready?”
Finnian fished out the shiny watch from his pocket and lifted Cassian’s hand, clasping it back onto his wrist. “More than ever.”
Marina interlaced her fingers with Acacius’s as they made the journey down the cliffside. Traveling into the cusp of death had rattled her nerves, and now more than ever, she wanted to feel him beside her, bridging the distance that her end had carried her.
Cassian and Finnian strolled down the rocky pathway a little way ahead of them.
Her eyes jumped to the figures in the clearing, and she inhaled a deep breath, bracing herself for Ronin and Naia’s lecture. It had been wrong of her to make the call of taking Ash. In the end, her decision nearly killed him.
Acacius lightly tugged on a piece of her hair. “Whatever you’re thinking so hard about can wait. Have you noticed your hair?”
She glanced over at him, running her fingers through her waves to assess the pieces. Strokes of cosmic white contrasted the intense darkness. “A side effect of the afterlife, I guess.”
Light always finds a way through. She reminisced on her father’s wisdom.
“There are now flecks of starlight in the brown of your irises as well.” Acacius pecked the tip of her nose, sending her pulse into a messy stride. “You are stunning.”
Her bloodstream kindled, heating her cheeks.
She resumed looking straight to hide her blush. Apparently, coming back from the dead was turning her into a sappy fool. An obsessive, sappy fool that couldn’t wait to return home with him.
When she did not reply, Acacius’s lips grazed her ear. “I love you too, Rina.”
Warmth overflowed in her heart, flooding her chest, like she’d swallowed a cup of fresh tea.
She didn’t think he would remember her confession. It was shortly after he came to, and he’d been so worked up after realizing the damage he’d caused.
Marina turned her head and pressed her mouth into his forearm, grinning in embarrassing euphoria.
He kissed her temple before slipping away.
She held onto his arm, not ready to give it back.
As they journeyed through the clearing and approached the others, Ash’s blubbering grew louder.
Acacius removed his arm from her neck, letting her continue toward the child.
Cassian and Finnian remained back at his side.
Theon was gone. She’d noticed him leaving earlier while Finnian prodded at her legs in his examination. She assumed the middle god had set off to do a sweep around the area, in search of any traces of Soren.
Naia held Ash to her side, consoling the crying child, and Ronin stood between them and Marina.
Her stomach capsized as she stopped before him. “I apologize.” She bowed her chin. “There was so much commotion at the compound. Your members were dying and Ash’s life was in danger, and I knew I could fight Soren off if I drew him out. He was distracting us all to make his move on Ash.”
Ronin was silent.
Marina lifted her head, desperate to break through his intense gaze. “Please, Ronin, I never would’ve acted so rashly if I hadn’t believed Ash’s life was at immediate risk. I know what I did jeopardized your trust in me—”
“It’s not Aunt Marina’s fault!” Ash tore from Naia’s arms and ran up to stand between his father and Marina. Looking up at Ronin, he shook his head, his silver hair matted and stuck against his damp cheeks. “My–my blood, it–it—” he sniveled.
Naia rose to her feet, frowning. “Ashy darling, it’s not your fault.”
“It is!” he yelled, bringing both of his small, trembling hands up, blood-crusted and bright red from the cold. “I hate my blood! I don’t want to be made this way anymore!”
“Ash.” Ronin’s tense brow fell as he reached for him.
Ash recoiled, backing away. “Don’t touch me! I still have my blood on me!”
Marina had heard Naia mention ingesting a potion regularly to curb the reaction of his blood if it touched her. A potion created in the early days of her pregnancy to keep her alive.
Cassian, Finnian, and Theon probably consumed it as well, with as much time as they spent with Ash. Which meant, up until now, the thought of his blood killing another was foreign to him, and by the time he remembered it was a poison, it had been too late for Marina.
Tears bit at her eyes as she kneeled eye-level with him. “Ash.”
Ash hid his face in his hands and wailed, the heart-wrenching sounds shaking his shoulders. He was only a child. One that should never have to feel such guilt and pressure. They were all feelings that she could easily resonate with, buried under Mira’s scrutiny and expectations.
Unable to take another second of his crying, Marina grabbed him by the arms and wrenched him into a hug. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Ash.”
“But I killed you!” He crumbled in her hold, nuzzling his hand-covered face into her chest.
Naia rolled her trembling lips, tears flowing steadily down her face. Ronin pulled her into his side with a pool welling in his own eyes.
“I hate myself!” Ash cried harder.
Marina recalled weeping in her father’s embrace, moments before she would send him off to the Land of the Dead, repeating her apology like a prayer that would bring him back to life.
I don’t understand how you could forgive me.
Marina’s heart fractured as she cradled her nephew.
One day you will.
“It was an accident, and I forgive you.” A lump swelled in her throat, wishing she could siphon away his pain. “But I would die a hundred times over if it meant that you were safe, Ash. I am your protector.”
The title engraved into the fissures of her soul.
Resolution locked in her gut, warm and bright. A new purpose outside of herself. And suddenly, all the hurt she’d walked with was worth it, if it meant arriving at this place in her life.
Ash threw his arms around her neck, wailing harder. “I am sorry. I am so, so sorry.”
Marina embraced his small frame, holding him tightly against her.
Naia shot forward and engulfed them both, suffocating them with her inhuman strength. “I love you both so much.”
Marina smiled against Ash’s hair through the stream of her tears, a sign of old wounds healing.
Thank you, Father, for instilling this love in us.