Chapter 46 #2
The legion promised the same victory as Flynn’s fleet, but she’d have to give up gold, not her hand in marriage. The word conjured memories of a certain spearmint scent. Fresh, enticing. Her skin tickled with the memories of him traveling down her neck or how his tongue had worshiped her there.
Tovi clenched her thighs, hating how her mind wandered to such distracting places. Goddess, perhaps she should marry Flynn and save her people from the thrall the werewolf held over her. But that would be a union in title only, not body or heart.
The night’s cold nipped at Tovi’s skin—she could barely think his name, let alone admit all those things belonged to him.
Steps grew louder behind her as someone climbed the stairs, and Yennifer crested the last step, wheat-colored hair blowing in the breeze. Her nostrils flared and eyes widened at the sight of the city of soldiers.
Her friend handed her a glass of wine. “Thank you.”
“I should thank you,” Yen said. “Lord Nathanael’s disgruntled return gave me the perfect opportunity to slip out. That manor smells like death.”
“Is the Drystan air any better?” Tovi scoffed.
“There are hints of promise.” Yennifer winked.
“Nadia?” Tovi asked.
Yennifer waved her hand. “Frightening Lady Nathanael with tales of being a spy. She’s covering for us while we talk.” Yen turned her archer-like focus onto the legion ahead. “There it is then, what you need to win against your brother.”
Tovi sighed, resting her forearms on the roof’s wall. “It is.”
“What are you thinking about?” her friend asked, leaning against the wall with her.
“My father and brother, and the things they’d do for power.” Tovi’s words felt like an admission of a fear she’d harbored to herself for weeks. “Buying my way to the throne feels a lot like them.”
Yen shook her head. “Your father and brother didn’t make their choices for anyone else but themselves. You make it not for power but for your people and a better future for Drystan, one without the curse.”
“Do I?” Tovi shook her head. “Lord Nathanael is the type of male I loathe in vampyr society—pompous, arrogant, selling his daughter to the highest bidder. I doubt General Oziel is any better. Here I am, about to conduct business with him. Flynn is a good male, one who could help create change alongside me.”
“The perfect choice isn’t always the right choice, though, and the fact you’re thinking of your options is better than Riven, a man so easily fooled by the Blood Goddess. Why haven’t you sought her help?”
Tovi scoffed. “That’s wrong.”
“It’s weak,” Yen said. “You and Riven may be twins, but your opposites.”
Tovi considered her words—she didn’t feel as wild and off-kilter as her brother and father, but the fear remained. She wished to grasp certainty with an iron grip, yet it wasn’t a tangible thing, like the tendrils reaching out from the mists of the Void, playing tricks on her wary mind.
“I wasn’t completely honest with you the other day.” Yen didn’t meet her gaze, studying the burgundy liquid in her cup.
“About?” Tovi asked.
“Bétar.” Silence stretched until Yennifer continued. “You asked when I knew Bétar was my mate, and yes, the moment I met him, but it took me two years to finally admit it to myself, and then another until he and I admitted it to one another.”
Tovi’s chest tightened. “You fought your feelings for three years?”
“Yes, along with the mating bond.”
“Why?” Tovi asked.
“I’m from a family of five children, and I’m the youngest. In werewolf society, those after the third born have the freedom to choose what post they take up.
After losing two siblings to the Void, I had my sights on being a protector, you know, continue to make Sorin a better place—much to my parents’ dismay.
Their disapproval ate at me, but if I became the best archer, how could I have made the wrong choice? ”
Yennifer paused, composing herself, keen stare tracking more than the army ahead, but memories it seemed, too.
Tovi waited, giving her the space she needed.
The werewolf went on. “When Kade asked me to join his team, I didn’t hesitate.
Years of hard work got me to that point, but then I met Bétar.
” Yen scoffed, shaking her head. “Like a dark cloud, it suddenly felt like I might lose everything, all because my heart yearned. I’m not a queen like you, but I’m a warrior, bound by duty, too, and I was afraid if I chose Bétar, I’d lose sight of it.
The worst part? The more time I spent with Bétar, the more I actually liked him.
Not all mated pairs are love matches, ya know?
There I was, falling in love with a male I denied myself. ”
“What changed your mind?” Tovi breathed, afraid to learn the truth.
Yennifer laughed. “Well, after too much blueberry ale at the Shield-maiden, Bétar declared his love for me. The whole tavern fell silent, and he turned beet red, and I knew right then and there I’d lose him forever if I said nothing, and then I realized it was okay to choose me once in a while.
So, I walked straight up to him, kissed him, and said, ‘I’m glad to hear it, because I love you, too.
’ Not all sacrifice is valiant, and it doesn’t make us neglectful of our duty when we choose ourselves. ”
Tovi clamped her eyes shut, something within her warring against the blissful promise Yen’s story gave her. “What if I’m not like you and Bétar? What if I’m like my brother and father? What if it consumes me? Where is the line between choosing myself and being a queen?”
Yen shook her head and grasped Tovi’s hand as she said, “You, Tovi Verena, are one of the strongest people I know, and that makes you different from your father and brother.”
Tovi sipped her wine, trying to swallow some sense of believing that she was indeed like Yennifer said.
She wasn’t used to this doubt. Yet, she wasn’t used to foreign feelings related to a male either, all battling her pursuit of doing right by her people.
The answer sprawled out, all for the fine price of fifty thousand god coins—
The color red caught her attention, and below the manor near the gardens, Anastasia, Lord Nathanael’s daughter, snuck through the shadows, glancing back at the manor every few feet.
“Yen,” Tovi breathed, jutting her chin in the vampyr’s direction.
Yennifer hummed. “My guess is she’s off to meet that commanding soldier her eyes kept finding during dinner.”
“It’s a good thing I’m wearing pants,” Tovi said, setting her goblet down and searching for a way to get down the side wall of the manor. Anastasia disappeared beyond a gate overtaken by ivy.
“Are you planning on following her?” Yen asked.
“Yes,” Tovi said. “If Lord Nathanael’s daughter is sneaking out of her house and heading towards the legion I’m supposed to pay for, I want to know why.”
“You’re hoping she’ll reveal more about her father and General Oziel.”
“Precisely.” Tovi found a metal gutter running down the gray brick. Perfect. “Cover for me?”
Yennifer nodded. “Yes. If you need to hurry back, you’ll know it.”
Tovi planted her hand at the top of the metal, and swung over, allowing her grip to guide her momentum downward.
As her boots hit the stone, she somersaulted across the stone patio and rolled off onto the path, hoping to go unnoticed from the manor’s windows.
She remained crouched and followed the same path as Anastasia.
The ancient gate groaned as she slipped through it, entering a garden tunnel with more ivy. Voices murmured ahead, and on light feet, Tovi crept further down.
“You’re late, Ana,” a male voice drawled.
“I’m glad to see you waited for me, Bash,” a female responded—perhaps Anastasia.
Bash remained silent, and as Tovi peeked around the ivy-covered archway, she found Anastasia changing into fighting leathers and the commanding soldier without his armor, stripped to a black tunic and trousers, practice swords in hand.
He threw one right as Anastasia finished lacing her boot.
She caught it, albeit almost a moment too late.
The soldier smirked, and Goddess, Anastasia, blushed in return and attacked.
Bloody hel, the soldier was training the lord’s daughter to fight.
And well.
Their wooden weapons clashed, but the sounds were swallowed, as if muted somehow. Tovi searched the fighting area, spying enchanted rocks in each corner. Interesting.
Mentor and mentee danced more than they fought—fluid, breathless, and in tune with one another, until they both attacked at once, clashing in a tight embrace.
The soldier stared down at Anastasia. Their lips almost touched, and the intense sheen in their eyes had Tovi turning back around the corner, averting her gaze from such an intimate moment between them.
Not just training—the two were clearly entangled. But Anastasia was betrothed; how in the Goddess was the young female getting away with this right under mother and father’s nose?
Clanging wooden swords turned to something else entirely, and Tovi headed down the ivy-covered tunnel, retreating from the very specific noises that she had no business hearing. Instead, she waited for Anastasia at the end of the garden tunnel.
Once night had begun its descent and Tovi’s ass had gone numb, Anastasia crept through the iron gate—training leathers gone and the multilayered skirts of a lady returned.
Tovi emerged from the ivy she hid behind and found the tip of a dagger at her throat the next second.
She raised a brow, peering down at Anastasia.
Tovi’s own dagger pressed into the young vampyr’s belly.
The young female gasped, covering her mouth, and backed away. “Bloody hel—I mean—fuck—no, I’m sorry—you’re the queen. Oh my word, I just tried to stab the queen.”
Tovi rushed over and grasped Anastasia’s arms. “Shhh, you’re fine. Unless you want us to get caught.”
Anastasia blinked. “Why are you out here? Did you . . .” Her eyes flicked to the gate, and she swallowed.