Chapter 33
SPRING
Ravensmere Forest, Realm of Calderre
Though Connor’s journey had begun only a few months before with the viper attack it seemed like ages had passed. Yet, he had a few important things to do before he left for Eldridge. Conversations to have.
Asking Ryan to be Opal’s soul-guardian had gone well. His best friend had easily agreed to care for his daughter and had made an effort to spend time with her while they were home. Even now, the pair were out searching for a new horse for Ryan in Midnight’s absence.
There was one other soul-guardian he needed to talk with before he could embark on the last stretch of his journey—back to Eldridge, to Hannelore Mountain.
Riding beside him, Rodric kept easy pace as they made their way through the woods. His horse Zora was even behaving pleasantly, having made tolerant friends with Rogue on the trip to Calderre.
The gap between the trees narrowed and the path grew tighter as they approached their destination.
This deep into the forest, snow was still thick on the ground, hugging the base of the trees.
Finding the trio of very old, thick trees whose branches wound together that acted as a landmark, Connor motioned Rodric off the path and into the dense woods.
Coming to a stop, he took a moment to breathe in the deep, clean scent of pine and ice. Though his heart had grown partial to velentha nectar and emeraldis plants, the winter scent would always speak of deep love to him. Of home and sanctuary.
“Alright, you’re starting to worry me, Connor. What’s this about?” Rodric asked, looking questioningly at him.
“I need to show you something.”
Dismounting, he commanded Rogue to stay put and moved behind him, to where their tracks were visible in the dirt marbled with melting snow. The day was bright, and sunlight streamed through the trees to meet the forest floor. The dense and towering trees created giant swaths of shadow.
Brows knit together in puzzlement, Rodric dismounted and followed him. “I’m always good for a ride, but why here?”
Connor shrugged. “I could have done it at the keep, but… this spot is significant to me. It’s where I first developed this particular skill with my magic. One I need you to see.”
Kneeling on the earth, Connor pressed his hand to the soil.
“I don’t—”
“Watch.”
He pushed his magic out slowly, letting it trickle into the earth in front of him. Directed down the path they’d come. Hide, he commanded.
The places touched by shadow rippled as his magic washed over them. The tracks they’d made unraveling to vanish into the shadows.
“How…”
“How can be a frustrating question with magic sometimes,” Connor admitted. “This skill… I’ve never met anyone else who can use it. Not even Cass, and she has more power in the shadows than I do.”
Rodric turned stunned eyes from the tracks to him.
“It was my fault that you couldn’t track Brenna, Rodric. Mine alone.”
Cursing, Rodric ran a hand through his hair and paced away.
Connor held his breath watching the hunter pace. Feeling the angry energy lashing and swirling between them, he waited it out and gave the other man time to process what he’d shared.
Eventually Rodric returned, still fuming. “It eviscerated me when I couldn’t find her. My entire skillset, useless to save her. Why? Why would you do that?”
“I was trying to save my team. To give Ryan, Thalia, and Drew time to escape with Veda and Opal. The mercenaries who ambushed us were vipers. We were fighting—running—for our lives. When I hid those tracks, it was done as a last act, Rodric. I was injured and only hoped to lead them away from my team. I expected to die, so I gave it all my magic.”
“You were nowhere near where I lost Brenna’s tracks. Your magic really stretched that far?”
“It used my lifeforce to do it. I didn’t map it or think it through, just gave a raw command with every bit of magic I had left.”
“Unbelievable. I can’t… You’re the reason?”
“Yes. I’m sorry, Rodric. I’ll apologize to Brenna as well. But you deserve to know that it wasn’t your fault, it was mine.”
“Celina didn’t know,” Rodric said, voice ringing with surprising certainty.
“No. I never told her about that particular skill. Or Cass. It developed as an adult, after I was already with the Lightning Teams. They deemed it classified—one of the reasons I came out here in secret to work on it.”
Rodric shook his head, frustration emphasizing his movements. “You should have told me.”
“I wanted to. The guilt nearly ate me alive, waiting. But learning to work together and finding Brenna was more important.”
A long sigh escaped the hunter. “The guilt… the guilt I understand. It nearly killed me, to fail her like that. To need help from you mages. And then the guilt of becoming one of you. Finding Celina. Enjoying moments of the journey while Brenna was being tortured and abused. The guilt was brutal.”
“I’m sorry, Rodric.” He’d apologize a million times if necessary, to make it right. But what he couldn’t honestly say was that he’d change what happened.
It had taken him a long while to grow comfortable with that.
But if anything had been different, he might not have found his mate or daughters.
They’d all been through tremendous trauma, but they’d survived and found one another through it.
He was sorry for the pain and suffering, but not for what happened.
Watching a litany of expressions cross Rodric’s face, Connor hoped he was coming to the same conclusion. Would arrive at forgiveness.
After a time, the hunter finally settled into a strong, confident stance that was becoming familiar.
“Family is important to me, Connor. We have enough other things to battle. Enough other things threatening to keep us divided.”
“Family is everything to me, Rodric. I’ve spent my entire life trying to protect it and always will.”
“That family is growing.”
“It is,” Connor said, thinking of his daughters and his soul-mate with a smile.
“No more secrets.” Rodric reached out, offering his arm.
“No more secrets,” Connor agreed.
Taking his brother’s arm, Connor grasped it with a warrior’s grip to seal the vow. Then he pulled the man into a hug.
An impatient whinny from Zora interrupted the moment, and they both stepped back with a laugh.
“Anything else you need to confess while we’re here?” Rodric asked, raising a brow.
“Well, actually… there is one other thing.”
Connor grinned at Rodric’s groan as they returned to their horses.
“It’s just a bit further,” Connor assured, taking Rogue’s reins in hand.
Cutting through the tight trees, he led Rodric and Zora on foot through the forest path. A few moments later, he stopped.
A huge pine tree, older and wider than the others, stood at the edge of a tiny clearing. At its center stood a small cabin and an attached barn. It was tiny compared to the majestic keep he’d called home his entire life. Connor loved it just as much but for different reasons.
“A hunting cabin?” Rodric asked, maneuvering Zora up beside him.
“My father wasn’t much for hunting, but he did like solitude,” Connor said as he led the way to the front of the house.
He brushed snow and debris away from the square of metal that bound the door to the wall.
Pressing his hand over the center, he felt the tiny prick of the lock against his palm.
The door shimmered with shadow to his magic sight as it unlocked.
Instead of opening the door, he pressed his hand against it a second time and felt magic swirl and tingle at the site.
“You Blackwoods sure like your blood locks,” Rodric mused.
Connor chuckled as he stepped back. “They’ve been in the family for hundreds of years, maybe longer. Why change them? This works just like the ones at the keep. Press your palm there while it still carries my blood, and it will accept yours as well.”
Shaking his head, Rodric obeyed. “Doesn’t seem very secure.”
“You forget, magic is partly about intention.” Connor grinned. “Don’t ever let someone convince you to touch a blood lock when they mean you harm. It won’t go so well.”
“Figures,” Rodric grumbled under his breath as he removed his hand. He flexed and studied his palm afterward until the tiny mark disappeared into clean, smooth skin.
Stepping inside the cabin, Connor breathed in the familiar scent of smoke and pine. It was one of the few physical places he’d miss if he never returned to Calderre. His father’s presence was just as strong here as it was in his office at the keep that Connor had claimed after his death.
“This was your father’s?” Rodric asked, striding to the center of the room and looking around in a slow circle.
Made of very large, old pine trees, the cabin had been carefully shaped and built by his ancestors.
The space was designed using entirely natural elements, preserved magically against age and deterioration.
The result was incredibly peaceful, a hideout within nature that allowed for warmth and comfort.
“Yes. A gift from my mother at their joining. My father—Treyvon—came from Greylon. He struggled being away from his home realm. Fitting into hers. He always said she gifted him peace in the shape of these walls.”
“I can see why he loved it,” Rodric said, eyes landing on the huge fireplace that took up one of the walls.
Two large chairs and a thick fur rug sat in front of it—his father’s favorite setup in any room. Connor ran his hand over the stone bricks that made up the fireplace.
“I spent a lot of time here after they died, but over the years, I was home less and less, and the time I was home was devoted to Celina and Cat.”
Rodric watched him with perceptive eyes. “Why did you bring me here, Connor?”
“Because you need it more than I do. And, I think, after me, he would have wanted you to have this place.”
“Connor, I can’t—”
“I want you to have it. Use it as a hunting cabin, an escape for you and Celina, or one for yourself—when you need to be just Rodric and not Lord Blackwood. You’re going to need that.”