Chapter 36
~ DONAVYN ~
Half an hour later, Kgosi and I soared a mile above the forests, in the land surrounding the Keep. Kgosi hadn’t asked me where I’d like to go. But it made no difference. The point was to be alone and speak.
I was surprised he’d stayed virtually silent this long. I’d expected him to lay into me the moment we were alone in the air.
But we both loved to fly—especially together. And for some time, my dragon lazily flapped, riding the air currents, taking us slowly south and west. When he did finally speak, there was a burst of adrenaline in my chest.
‘I have waited, Donavyn. Expected you to see your error, and come to me. But you haven’t.
And now your anger unleashed towards your mate.
Soon, we embark on a deceptive and dangerous mission.
One which I support for the sake of the kingdom.
But if this is the heart you bring to it, I foresee disaster, Donavyn. You are not grounded.’
I frowned. ‘I’m not ungrounded. I’m angry. And rightfully so. Those men stole from her and—’
‘And they will be punished—if they have not been already. The righteous right hand of the Creator will reveal their sins. Retribution will follow.’
‘I don’t trust Alexi to truly punish that kind of conduct. He’s too lenient when he approves of a man, and he’s always taken personal interest in Ruin.’
‘Alexi is not the Creator, Donavyn. Do you not believe God Himself would enact revenge on those who hurt His daughter?’
‘They’ll be punished, I’m sure. But when, Kgosi?
This happened before they were sent into Draeventhall—who knows what other shit they got up to, or what they’ve done since.
As far as we know, they were free and applauded until recent days.
God, in all His sovereignty, left them to continue to hurt her, or others.
But she’s been given to me now—don’t tell me God wouldn't have me protect her.’
‘As mate, you protect her where she cannot protect herself. You are the sword at her side. The shadow for her rest. You are not the hand of God.’
I grimaced. ‘I have never claimed to be God’s hand for—’
‘You claim it the moment you decide that judgment is yours, and yours alone to determine.’
‘She is my mate—and mine alone!’
‘Meanwhile, you have also been provided protection in me—yet you obscured this from me. I will speak plainly, Donavyn: You have no room to speak to your mate of caution when you so blatantly hide motives and deceive even me, who would burn the world for you.’
He let me see it then—a vision in my mind of me, standing on a hill, the wind fluttering my hair, weapons in my hands, facing an army utterly alone. Except for him. He stood at my back, loomed over me, and roared his defiance to the thousands of men who came for me.
My heart twisted, even as I tried to push the image away.
He’d do it. I knew he would. And he knew I’d give my life to save his.
And then, as that vision faded, something else surged forward in the bond. Something that made me sick to my stomach.
Hurt.
My dragon was hurt that I’d hidden my vengeance from him. Wounded that I hadn’t trusted him to hear my rage and intention. And that feeling overwhelmed even his wisdom that cautioned against the plan.
“Kgosi,” I sighed. But he rumbled to cut me off.
‘I am strong, and wise. I have lived life. I know the Creator, and I know you. I can be wounded, and walk through it at your side—though I pray you won’t ask me to continue to do so. But I am dominant, Donavyn. I am more than your equal. I carry your strength.
‘In Bren’s world, that is your role—the larger, stronger, more experienced half of her heart.
Today, she stood before you with herself bare, trusted you entirely.
She showed you something she’d learned, and wanted to share her newfound strength with you.
Do not underestimate that she also sought your approval, your agreement, your belief in her ability to manage that tool and balance it with her love for you, and her purpose.
Yet, you lashed out.’ He hesitated, that deep rumble vibrating in his chest. ‘It is not your way, Donavyn. You are wiser than that. What has shifted in your heart that brought you to this place? Because for now, it has only pricked your heart. The wounds are small and will heal quickly—unless you tear them wider. If you continue on this path, what comes next? Do you lash out in jealousy when a drunk nobleman expresses his desire for her? Do you accuse her because of your own fear? How does she trust you when she’s under the eyes of other men, if your only thought is for vengeance or possession?
They will want her, Donavyn. We both know that.
How can she trust you to be her strength in that, rather than forcing her to fight on two fronts—the men she sees as enemies, and the one who is her closest ally? ’
I felt sick, because I knew what he meant. It was a sensation I experienced at times with the king—knowing we aimed for the same goal, yet also knowing I must manage his expectation and reaction to get us there. Rather than being open and unified in our approach.
Because our hearts weren’t driven the same way.
‘Bren and I are far more unified than that,’ I muttered in the link. ‘I’m not proud of the words I chose today, and I admit, I’ve deceived you, my friend. I ask your forgiveness for that. I knew it was wrong when I did it. But I burned with—’
‘You burned. And instead of bringing me that fire and letting me help you turn it into a tool, you stuffed it into a dark corner of your heart and protected it, as if that kind of violence would soothe you. But we both know better, don’t we?’
My jaw rolled. I knew exactly to what he referred. It was something I’d taught men for a decade—a hard won lesson: That giving in to aggression and violence would destroy the man as much as the enemy he unleashed upon.
There were always problems among Furyknights—strong, capable, highly trained men with a great deal of power and autonomy.
Especially the young, who still lacked discipline.
It was our way to throw ourselves into a fight—even with each other.
I’d been training Wing Leaders for years on how to both moderate their own violence, and teach their men to do the same.
We’d set a culture among the men in which our oldest and strongest Furyknights were also those with the greatest restraint and willingness to avoid an altercation.
Sovanne, the Wing Leader of the squad who’d taken Bren to the tavern the evening after her first assessment, had been an example of that—handling the conflict with words and measured attitude, rather than plowing into a situation with violence, which would only escalate it.
Kgosi was reminding me of my own wisdom.
Damn him for it.
‘I know you’re right,’ I admitted, reluctantly.
‘But if it’s my deepest heart and rage you want me to bring, then have it: How should I respond to men who violated my mate?
How should I regard the men who she might meet that would pose similar threats?
How do I guide her in this, to keep her safe, if she’s insisting on plowing forward when she’s na?ve?
If she believes she can flirt with men of this stature and not entice them to take liberties with her, she’s walking towards disaster. You know I’m not wrong!’
‘Your fears are seeded in truth,’ Kgosi admitted.
‘But you ignore both the Creator’s guidance and protection of her, and the asset of her willingness to come to you when she fears.
If you show her now that she can only expect your anger when she shares difficult things, you force her to hide from you.
Just as you’ve hidden your intentions from me, fearing my restraint, she will learn to hide hers from you.
You do not want that, Donavyn. Your mate should stand before you in utter freedom—knowing even if she were wrong, even if she were weak, even if she’s been wounded, that you are her safety in that storm. Not another wind to buffet her.’
Fuck. Fuck.
‘It’s not her I don’t trust!’
‘Yes, it is,’ Kgosi intoned. ‘You don’t trust her to accurately measure danger—or to tell you if her instincts prickle.
But hear me, Donavyn: The only barrier Bren will have for baring herself to her very soul, is your anger and insistence on using your power against her when she does.
If she comes to you for safety, and you provide it—even in anger—she will bring you everything.
You’ll never be left out. She’ll never hide from you. ’
‘So, I should just watch her throw herself into danger and say nothing?!’ I knew I sounded petulant, but the fear was very real.
War never went the way we expected. Any battle, whether it was fought in the field, the sky, or the ballroom, took turns we didn’t anticipate.
And those turns often ended in the loss of good men.
‘If she faces something we haven’t anticipated when I’m not at her side, who’ll protect her, Kgosi?
Wouldn’t you warn Akhane if you saw her putting herself in danger? !’
‘Warning your mate, equipping her, preparing her is wisdom, Donavyn. Do you truly believe that’s what you did—what you have been doing?’
The words slapped me in the face just as hard as Bren had. My heart sank as I played back the events of the past weeks, and saw them through the filter of what he’d said. My anger, my fear, my caution… all of it intended to soothe my struggles. To make me more comfortable as I walked alongside her.
But Kgosi wasn’t done. ‘The Creator allows no pain or struggle into your life without purpose, Donavyn. He brings no trial or pain without a reason that is ultimately for your good. His is the example we follow. He has brought Bren here—a place that will test and try her. But also strengthen and equip her. Your job, as her mate, is not to be God in her life. It is to be her partner in her growth and healing.’