Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
A s if she sensed his attention, or just felt the hand holding hers, Mekale’s eyes cracked open.
Eirik didn’t hide his relief, or the tears that blurred the sight of her laying there.
The princess’s brows furrowed. She rasped, “What happened?”
“We won,” Eirik said hoarsely. “The rebels and townspeople, Arrowren loyalist, came to our aid.”
“The others? Are they…”
“Fine.” He squeezed her hand, comforted anew by the warmth returning to it. “They are all fine.”
He had come straight here. Practically before Gideon’s head had stopped rolling across the floor. His first question to Bastian and Sage, to anyone who might know, had been where is she?
Everyone knew who she was.
Their worried, dire faces were the only answer.
Lark hadn’t hesitated, extending a hand down from her black steed. The redheaded warrior had flown him over the blood-soaked city. Across the still smoldering bay, straight to the tent in the outlying forest where Sterling paced worriedly .
Amira showed Eirik right to her. The healer had done all she could.
At first, he could only stare, unable to process how pale she looked, her golden curls fanned out around her sweat-slicked face, her breathing too shallow.
Then he hit his knees. Bowed his head and prayed. Prayed to Janus, to the stars, all the gods, the universe. Anyone who might hear his desperate words. To any force inclined to save her. And in doing so… to save him .
Because he knew in that moment he couldn’t live without her.
Mekale shifted, and winced.
“Don’t,” Eirik said, trying to keep the shooting panic from showing on his face. The look on hers proved he was failing. He tried again. “The wound is still stitching itself closed. Amira has made a paste, but you need to stay still while it aids your natural healing process.”
She nodded. Her voice came hesitantly. “The darkness?”
“Gone.” He smiled for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. “With the help of a few gods.”
Mekale returned his smile, her eyes bright. “I knew you could do it.”
“It took three of us, actually.”
She kept those beautiful, fearless eyes on him. That defiant and joyful gaze that had always been his downfall. Made it impossible to think about anything else if she was around.
His princess said, “But it took one of them being you .”
He had no words. They had become as foreign as distant lands, harder to reach than the stars.
Her gaze brushed over him like a physical touch, searching his figure from head to toe. When those hazel eyes again landed on his, she said, “Tell me everything.”
So he did. When he was done, she explained all that had occurred after he left Windsong. He fought the nausea that rose when she told him about her mother and brother. Her father had been killed in the explosion. She had no idea what had become of Lord Venderson. Or Glenton, the tourney contestant they’d allied with.
They both sat in silence after that. Not ready to speculate or move beyond the here and now. In this tent. The wind sighing along the canvas. The crackling fire outside. The murmurs of Sterling and Amira.
Finally Mekale sighed. “I know you need to be doing something.” She looked down at their clasped hands. “Other than sitting here with me.”
“There is nothing more important than what I’m doing now.” He shocked himself with the blunt admission.
But he meant it. And he could finally admit it out loud.
Her gaze slowly lifted to his. “Do you mean that, Eirik LaGoryen?”
He held her gaze. Let some inner wall within him crumble down. Let her see past what she already knew. Him as the warrior. The brother and friend. The goofy idiot who liked to cha-cha. The not Chosen One. He let her see all of it. And then he let her see what no female had ever seen in his eyes before now.
Love.
“I do.” His swallow was audible, his heart a battering-ram in his chest, but he managed to say, “I love you, Mekale.”
“I love you, too. From the moment you showed up at court.” Tears broke the barrier of blonde lashes. “And after you left…everything I did… Entering the tourney. Trying not to get myself killed. It was to buy me time. Enough time for you to come back.” Her tears were free flowing down her face now. “For I never doubted that you would. I knew you would come for me. If I just held on long enough.”
Eirik scooped her into his arms. Then he remembered she wasn’t supposed to move, and cursed. Mekale let out a breathy chuckle. He started to carefully ease back.
She didn’t let him, tightening her grip around him. “Don’t you dare let go of me, Eirik LaGoryen. Don’t you ever let go.”
He knew in his soul… He most certainty wouldn’t.
M etal glinted in the morning sun. From the expertly forged steel of palace soldiers to rusty pitchforks in the hands of hardworking townsfolk. They raised their voices and weapons high as word spread from the castle steps to the ships out in the bay. They had won. Hornhall was liberated.
Then someone started bellowing a name. A victory cry. Over and over, the entire village taking up the call.
Their voices lifted. Until the name they called out drifted all the way up to the blown out ballroom where Sage stood.
“Arrowren, Arrowren, Arrowren!”
Two strong arms encircled her waist, accompanied by the scent of night-chilled mist and crackling embers. Sage closed her eyes as her muscles instantly relaxed, his warmth sinking into her bones.
Her mate whispered into her ear, “Hope is their victory cry. Hope and pride. Something you alone could give them.”
“ We gave them,” she amended. “I couldn’t have done it without you. Without them.”
“I gave them my might. We all gave them our courage. But you…” His words vibrated through her. “You gave them a reason. You gave them your heart.”
A solitary tear slid down her cheek. His heartfelt words meant more to her than she could possibly express. “Thank you.” She turned in his arms to face him. “For the might and the courage. For all of it.”
He brushed away the tear. Kissed her forehead, then her mouth. “You’ll always have all of it, Sage Astamere,” Bastian vowed. “All of me there is to give. ”
She laid her head to his chest. He held her tightly under the light of a new day. Under the cheers of a new world.
How long they stood there, she didn’t know. But when a throat cleared nearby, they peeled apart and turned toward its source.
Bastian’s uncle approached, Palomi by his side. Both warriors were covered in blood and Palomi limped, with a nasty gash down her thigh.
The ebony-haired fae, whose father had served Sage’s own so loyally, had overseen the destruction in the harbor. After Bastian and Teakin set it ablaze, she’d used her wind-magic to fan the flames. Then she’d passed information telepathically to Wilkes and the aerial unit when the Windsong ships arrived.
Wilkes had given her a quick recounting of events before heading back out with Kier to update their allies. Teakin and the Warborn left to secure the castle and assess any possible threats that might remain. Archer, with his King’s Knights and wolf pack, fanned out in search of Xavier.
Lark returned shortly after everyone dispersed to report the princess was healing and going to be just fine. Especially now that she was under Eirik’s supervision. Sage had openly wept at the news. Lark then went to help the others.
Merick exited at some point to fetch Lord Ulrich, who had been instrumental in aiding them and freeing Archer, so they could locate a spell book to unlock the realm’s borders. The ex-advisor to Hornhall had been a spy all along. A wizard faithful to Archer’s father, he’d positioned himself strategically to help further the cause.
Katarra slipped out to retrieve the two orphans from their hiding place in the catacombs. Bastian watched every step the female took out of the ballroom.
Rightfully so. Her son had tried to kill Bastian and take over Ventus with Gideon. Although she’d helped them, there was no telling where the beauty’s true alliances lay. Despite the connection she obviously had with Archer .
Teakin spoke. “The castle is secure. The troops are making camp on the western side in the woods. They await your next orders.”
Her orders…
Her people. Her kingdom. Everything she’d spent her life fighting for…
Bastian’s uncle smiled and said, “A well-deserved ending, Your Majesty.”
“It sure is.” Palomi, beside him, nodded proudly.
Sage was forming a reply when a thunderous boom shook the land. An energy so fierce, so powerful, her magic sizzled at her fingertips, preparing to fight.
No one else batted an eye.
Sage’s gaze swung from the two warriors in front of her to her mate.
Bastian just gave her a sexy lopsided grin. “Ready to meet my father?”