29. Faith Forged in Fire
Faith Forged in Fire
“You’re dead,” Ezra drawled, slapping Matilda on the neck with the flat surface of the spear.
She groaned and angrily rubbed at the sting, trying to massage the pain away as she regrouped.
She had “died” thirty-two times since they started practicing that afternoon.
Ezra had only suffered a near-death experience when she became frustrated and launched the spear at him.
He ducked, and the tip of the blade plunged into the weathered tree behind him. “Matilda…”
“Stop. I know what you’ll say,” she said, panting and trying to catch her breath.
“We must rest.”
“There is no rest in battle; therefore, we shall not rest in practice,” she replied stubbornly.
Ezra resigned, recognizing that Matilda was being factual. Because Alaria was a vampire, her stamina far outweighed Matilda’s. Unless Matilda finished Alaria off quickly, the challenge could last for hours.
“Very well. Perhaps you’d prefer to change weapons?”
“The only other weapon that would be fitting to avoid close combat is the broadsword or a battle axe, and both would tire me within minutes of combat.”
“What do you plan on doing with David’s blood?”
Matilda grinned suspiciously, raising the hairs on the back of Ezra’s neck. “And ruin the surprise? I think not.”
“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s dastardly.”
“Oh, of the highest degree, my dear bodyguard.”
Silence settled between them, save for Matilda’s shallow breaths. He spoke again when she appeared well-rested.
“You mustn’t fall,” he said.
“I agree.”
“You do not understand. Luka requested that I deliver him a swift demise if you perish.”
“I heard. Have you talked some sense into him since then?”
Ezra shook his head. “What is there to say to a man whose mind is made?”
“You’d have to change his mind.”
“And be plagued to watch him suffer for centuries from losing his fated mate and child? I’d rather not.”
Matilda blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of Ezra’s confusing statement. “Fated mates? What does that mean?”
“Shit,” he mumbled under his breath.
“What does that mean?” she repeated.
“I’ve said too much. It’s not for me to say.”
“You do not have the gift of time travel. The door has already been opened; you might as well walk through it.”
He rolled his eyes. “Very well. You and King Alesi are fated mates—meaning he is your soul mate, and you are his.”
“T-that doesn’t make sense. Wasn’t Anastasia his mate?”
“Yes, she was his mate, but not his fated mate. Which probably had something to do with why they couldn’t reproduce, despite how hard they tried.”
“Is it the same for vampires as it is for werewolves?”
“Precisely,” he answered.
Matilda began pacing in circles. “How is something like this confirmed? And why would a human be fated with a vampire?”
“Did you notice anything peculiar when you fed from Luka?”
She paused in her tracks to think. “I-I did.”
“What was it?”
“I felt… a pull like I was being sucked in. It felt as if my soul wanted to rip free from my body, but I thought nothing of it. I thought perhaps that was normal when a human ingested vampire blood—like a drug of some sort.”
“No, that is not, as you say, normal. That was your soul tying to his and vice versa. I cannot answer why a human would be fated to a vampire—a vampire from an ancient line at that. However, it isn’t our place to question the gods.
Knowing this, I will ask you once more. Matilda Helsing, do you wish to forfeit to Alaria Marquis from the House of Marquis for the title of Queen of Night Falls? ”
Matilda smirked and twirled her spear over her head before slicing it at her side. “What is with the rhetorical question, Ezra?”
***
Luka wiped the sweat from his brow on the back of his hand. He flicked the sweat away, only for more to gather along his brow, threatening to slip past his brow and sting his eyes.
He confined himself to the stone dwelling behind his castle for nearly two days.
It was a place of great significance—the place where their weapons and armor were forged against their enemies.
Swords, daggers, axes, and arrows were hammered, grinded, and sharpened to perfection.
The Royal Army of Night Falls was infamous for its deadly weapons that were forged with a secret component—dragon’s tooth.
How Luka’s father commandeered the fang was always a mystery.
His father’s tall tale varied depending on who asked or who he was trying to impress.
For all Luka knew, the tooth simply fell from the sky and landed in the forest behind the castle.
He polished the weapon until the gleam of the steel was nearly blinding.
He examined it under the moonlight and caught minor imperfections.
It wasn’t perfect by any means, but it was a labor of love, and as he was finding out, sometimes love wasn’t perfect.
Being in love didn’t shield you from pain.
If anything, the love intensified it. Love was both unfathomable to experience and simultaneously be without.
It was a double-edged sword—a savior in the darkest hours and an unjust executioner, doling out punishment for a crime you never knew you had committed.
And despite all the uncertainty and the aches and pains that came with it—love, in fact, was a beautiful fate that Luka had the pleasure of experiencing not once, twice, but thrice he loved—the last being his unborn child.
As he forged into the night, a calm had settled over him. Fear still scratched at the surface; however, he had made peace with the huntress’s decision and was prepared for the outcome, no matter what it might be.
Several minutes later, Luka stood outside his fated mate’s chamber. It was late, and she should be resting, but he knew better. He knocked politely and waited for her response.
“There could only be one who would visit at such a time when the full moon sits high, and the creatures slumber… maybe two.”
The urge to roll his eyes was strong, yet he refrained.
“It is your king. Will you entertain me?” he asked through the door.
“I am not much of a songstress. I sound like a goat giving birth, but I shall do my best.”
Luka grinned. What would he do without her childish remarks?
He entered her chamber, and his breath caught in his throat.
There she stood—his queen in her battle attire.
It was sleek, black, and protectively conformed to her figure.
She was breathtaking; however, he didn’t care for the crimson cape, which could prove hazardous during battle.
“Relax, my King. The cape is detachable and only for show,” she said, demonstrating for him.
“What is a challenge to the death without a little showmanship?” he quipped.
“Precise—what is that you have?” she asked, finally laying eyes on the spear gripped tightly in his hand. He dropped to his knees and presented the spear to her with his head bowed. She gently took the weapon in her hands.
“You may not have noticed my absence because you’ve been preparing for the challenge and undoubtedly still distressed by my disgraceful comment and everything in between.
I forged this for you,” he said, pausing to examine her reaction.
He watched her as she observed the weapon in her hands.
Her mouth parted when she ran her finger ever so gently on the edge.
Blood leaked down her finger, but she didn’t mind it.
“It isn’t the most elegant, and with more time, I could’ve perfected it, but I put all my love and well wishes into it.
I prayed to the gods, asking them to divinely bless it so that it may protect you and vanquish your enemy.
This is me believing in you and proving that I have full confidence that you will return to me and carry the rightful title of Queen of Night Falls.
And if you do not return to me for some unthinkable reason, you’ll have a more fitting procession than the gods—even they will envy how I’ll keep your memory alive.
I need you to return to me because what is truly left without you?
Please forgive me for being cruel, short-sighted, and blinded. ”
Matilda wiped away tears, ignoring the heaviness in her heart.
She’d never witnessed anything so monumentally beautiful in her life.
He said everything she wanted to hear, but mainly that he believed in her.
She wasn’t dense. She knew her chances of survival were slim, but knowing he fully supported her made her feel invincible.
“Please rise, my King.” He did as commanded and hovered over her, waiting for her acceptance or rejection. “I feel that I’m already victorious. This is the second greatest gift you’ve given me.”
Luka tilted his head to the side. “And what was the first?”
She smirked, reached for his hand, and guided it to her protected abdomen—an enhancement she had made to her suit. “Of course,” he remarked with a gentle smile.
“I know you believe I’m fighting because of my pride and because I don’t want to be sent away, and yes, these things are true, but I’m also fighting because I’m fearful for you.”
Luka’s brows drew in. “Fearful for me? What do you mean?”
“If you think the Marquises will allow you to stay on that throne, then you are simple. They will murder you and put who they desire on the throne. And what will become of everyone else, huh? What will happen to the loyalists who’ve served you throughout the years?
What will happen to people like Ezra? What will happen to the people of Night Falls?
The humans? I’ve heard harsh things about the Marquises and how they wish all humans were enslaved as blood pets.
I am fighting for Night Falls,” she proclaimed.
Luka’s heart rejoiced for his beloved. “I’m aware that I’m gambling my life, but that is a risk I’m willing to take—for my people and for this kingdom. ”
He stroked her damp cheek, truly treasuring the woman before him. “They do not deserve you,” he whispered. “And neither do I, for that matter.”
“This is usually the part where I give a witty comment, but I’m emotionally drained and don’t have anything in me.”
“No witty remark necessary, but I must know: have you forgiven me?”
“How could I not?”
“I need to hear you say it,” he insisted.
“I have forgiven you.”
“Wonderful. Will we be sharing our marital bed this night?”
She grinned. “Such a lascivious vamp you are. Are you looking for one more roll in the hay?”
“I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.”
“That is too bad because I must wake Ezra from the cold of sleep to spar with my new spear. Thank you, my love,” Matilda said before leaving her chambers.
“But—”
“Goodnight, my King!”
***
Matilda grinned down at Ezra, who lay bleeding before her. “You’re dead.”
“While I find it utterly unnecessary to stab me, I have fallen. Congratulations, Matilda. I think you’re ready.”
She smiled and twirled her new lightweight spear above her head. She sliced it at her side and nearly shuddered from the sound it made as it cut through the air.
“May the gods have mercy on Alaria’s soul.”