47 Roman
Roman
Crows cawing pulled me from the depths of sleep. I almost thought I’d imagined it because Meg—whose shifter hearing would’ve picked the sound up well before I did—was still nestled peacefully in my arms.
Then I heard it again.
It’d been an adjustment learning to sleep out here with all the different noises of the wild going bump in the night.
I was still learning what was a threat, what was food, and what was both.
We didn’t have many birds in Ethica that I was aware of, but even I could tell this one didn’t sound like anything natural.
Another caw. More urgent this time.
It felt dreamlike as I crawled from the warmth of the furs and Meg’s body, pressing a kiss to her forehead before I left our bed.
I always did that now. Just in case.
The cold hit my bones as I set my bare feet on the ground, but it wasn’t enough to shock me fully awake.
Meg’s breaths were still soft and even. Neither she nor her wolf stirred as I stood. I knew I was stealth, but there weren’t many things you could slip past a wolf-shifter.
She still didn’t move as I pulled on my pants and boots, then pushed open the tent flap.
I slung the rifle strap over my shoulder as I peered into the darkness, trying to recall who was on watch tonight. Sleep clung to me, threatening to drag me back under, and I shook it off.
It’d been weeks since I slept as deeply as I had tonight. The exhaustion was bound to catch up. I rationalized the dreamlike haze in as many ways as my human brain could think of.
Breath misted around my face as the chilling cold cut through my thin clothes. My uniform would’ve been thicker, but I pushed that thought far away. Later, I’d process all that had happened in the last few weeks.
I needed to keep moving forward.
But I wasn’t sure exactly where I was going.
An eerie fog had rolled in over the hill and settled on the trees, dripping from the branches and pooling on the brown grass underfoot.
A caw sounded again and a rustle in the woods drew my attention. Clouds parted overhead, revealing a slowly sinking moon in a clearing between two pines.
And then I knew I was dreaming.
“Dad?” My whisper was a hoarse and broken thing. He stood tall. An echo of the man he once was, with straight back and broad shoulders and a smile that brightened his weary face.
I ran to him, not caring if I was still asleep. Science couldn’t bring my father back, but maybe the magic of the dream world would. If I could just see him for a moment. Speak with him again…
I burst through the clearing as a cloud passed over the moon. The vision disappeared into thin air.
“Pity.” A female voice spoke.
I spun to face the sound with my rifle ready.
The Morrigan leaned against a tree, inspecting her nails.
I guessed our luck had run out.
“What’s a pity?” I barked at her, trying to shove the hope I’d felt somewhere deep where it wouldn’t hurt so much again.
“You.” Morrigan’s dark eyes cut straight through me. “I thought you’d be stronger than this.”
“I don’t understand.” I lowered my weapon, keeping it ready just in case. She wouldn’t bleed, like Ares hadn’t bled, but it still wasn’t completely useless.
She sighed. “You were never supposed to. But I guess I can’t fault you in the end.”
“Speak plainly, goddess,” I growled, tired of these riddles and games.
Morrigan moved fast, until she was standing in front of me and I felt the cold from her being wrap me in its embrace. She laid a freezing hand on the side of my cheek.
“What do the gods love most?” she asked.
I don’t know how I knew the answer, but I somehow did.
“Worship,” I said.
“Good. And what causes you to worship? What motivates you to pray?” Morrigan coaxed the word from me.
“Pain,” I told her. “Because when we suffer, we turn to them.”
Morrigan smiled with a mouth of sharp teeth. “And you, dear Roman, you were supposed to suffer so greatly. It would’ve been the ultimate sacrifice.”
“It was never about the wedding?” I asked.
She winked. “We didn’t think you’d break. Your fate line declared you a champion. One that’d lead the humans to new heights. But the strings of destiny are fickle things.”
“I did this?” I took a forceful step back, mind reeling with the new information.
“I’ll admit, you had us all fooled with your perfect disposition.
” She tsked. “Such a good soldier, one raised on the stories of heroes as martyrs, with so much pain carried so deeply. The strength of your heart and your convictions. I’d assumed you’d keep your distance if duty and honor demanded it, but nature always has a say. ”
“It was my fault?” I asked again. “The power outage? The gods?”
“Don’t get too big a head.” Morrigan laughed. “We all had our parts to play. But you, my warrior, surprised me. It’s not often that a mortal can outwit the plans of the gods.”
“Why tell me this now?” I asked, point-blank. “What purpose does it serve?”
Make no mistake, the gods did nothing without a reason.
Morrigan’s shoulders fell as an ancient weight seemed to settle upon them.
“I needed you to know all this before the coming days, when more choices will need to be made, and more lies will be woven by sharp tongues. You won’t see me for a while, but if fate does cross our paths again, I want you to remember that I told you this truth.
You wrote your own story. One even the gods hadn’t predicted. ”
A branch snapped in the forest.
“Come out, Alpha. I have a gift for both of you.” Morrigan smiled as her skirts blew around her legs. “Let it be known that I take care of my warriors, and you were both mine first.”
Moonlight shone in the clearing again.
There was my father without his hospital gown. Strong and tall, not a wasted shell of the man he once was, in all his youthful glory. With large hands and that beaming smile.
“Is that my boy?” His deep voice boomed throughout the quiet woods.
I set down my rifle. “Dad?”
“You have until dawn for one last visit.” Morrigan faded into the mist on the wings of a crow.
“Get over here son, and give me a hug.” My dad stretched out his big arms.
And for a moment, I was small again, staying up late and waiting for him to come home to tell me a bedtime story. The days when he was superhuman, and I wanted to be just like him.
“I missed you.” His voice broke as he pulled me in tight. That was my father. Never ashamed to wear his heart on his sleeve. “And who is that?”
I turned to see Meg in human form with wide eyes as she took a step back. “I’ll give you two a minute.”
“No.” I reached for her, pushing any sadness I felt down deep so that my dad would only see how happy I was. “This is Megaera Cereberus. Or now Meg Miller. My mate. My wife.”
“Wha… Welcome to the family!” My dad recovered from the shock quickly, looking at his surroundings, and I saw the moment confusion sank in.
“No chairs… I have… Nothing.” He forced a smile for Meg, one I’d seen too many times growing up. “I’m sorry, dear. It looks like I don’t have anything to offer you, and I’m not quite sure where we are.”
“Oh, that’s okay.” Meg choked back tears as she sat right on the dirt, patting the ground beside her and inviting him to sit. “You know, I’ve been dying to hear one of your stories.”
“I like her already.” Dad winked at me, taking a seat on the earth. I swallowed down the sensation of my heart in my throat as I sat with them, trying to stay present.
Because I knew better than most that each moment was an unpromised gift.
“Cerberus, you say. Now that’s an interesting last name.” Dad rested his hand on top of mine as he looked at Meg with stars in his eyes. “Did you ever hear the story about Cerberus, the three-headed beast of the underworld and Hades’s right hand?”