"
Really?
You want to get dressed?"
"Not at all," he chuckled. "I need my flask. It's on my belt."
Forest sat up and looked at the mess of clothes on her floor. "To your right."
He grabbed the belt from the floor and pulled his flask off. She winced as he took a swig. Tears burned her eyes as he cringed and growled in pain. It only took a moment, but every second of his pain ripped through her.
Syrus straightened his shoulders, took a few deep breaths, and then opened his eyes.
"Why would you do that to yourself?"
Syrus raised one eyebrow. "You're naked."
She gave a little yelp as he grabbed the edge of the sheet and jerked it off the bed.
"So," she said saucily. "You'd go through that kind of pain just to ogle me?"
"Obviously."
"Was it worth it?...Syrus?"
"Huh? I'm sorry what did you say?"
Forest laughed, shaking her head. "Come back here."
Forest awoke in the dark, hours later. Light from the street lamps outside pushed through the fabric of her curtains. The small amount of light made everything in the room a silhouette. Her head rested on Syrus' chest, and his hand skimmed up and down her scars lightly. She didn't like that and was instantly self-conscious.
"Stop that," she ordered, moving her shoulder away.
He gripped both her shoulders and rolled her under him, his fingers digging deep into her flesh. Teeth flashed in the darkness before her eyes.
"Faithless whore! I'll teach you who you belong to," Leith snarled.
Forest screamed as Leith sank his teeth into the tangle of her scars. Her flesh tore and burned between his teeth.
Syrus held Forest in the circle of his arms while she slept. He couldn't sleep anymore but was content laying still, replaying the last hours in his mind. He didn't want to disturb her slumber but couldn't stop himself from pressing his lips into her hair or brushing them across her temple every so often. After all the pain of separation, being together this way, completely, was a marvel.
She
was a marvel, and the love he had for her filled him up and stretched outward beyond his flesh, imbuing his aura with intense golden light.
He exhaled, and his thoughts moved to the future,
their
future, then she suddenly stiffened in his arms. Her whole body went rigid, and a strangled cry escaped her lips. Knowing all too well how violently she could wake up, Syrus pulled her closer and whispered, "I'm here, Forest. It's Syrus. There's no one here but me. Just Syrus."
She cried out again, her body jerking, her arms and legs flailing. Syrus let go and rolled away from her. "Wake up, Forest!" he commanded loudly now.
"I am awake," she rasped. Her body bucked and cringed, and she screamed in agony.
"
What's happening?
What can I do?"
He was desperate.
"It burns! It burns so bad!" she cried. "No! Don't touch me!"
She groped for her bedside lamp and turned it on. The pain was so terrible she wished she had something to bite down on. Her eyes tried to focus on her scars. The crescent lovers marks glowed bright red, like coals in a fire. Then starting at the top, one by one, they tore open and bled. Forest pushed past Syrus and ran into the bathroom. She turned the faucet on and splashed water on her arm.
Syrus was on her heels. She slammed the door and locked it.
"Forest what’s happening?!" He shouted, panic woven through his voice.
"I'm all right. Just give me a minute."
He leaned his head against the door, teeth clenched, and tried to slow his breathing. She had been or was still in some intense pain and yet he couldn't feel it. Their connection should have alerted him to what she was going through, but he could sense nothing. His heart felt the beating of hers, her vital signs were strong and steady. Whatever she was experiencing was outside of the entity that was "them."
Then the knowledge of the cause ran through his blood like poison.
Leith
.
The physical price of consummating their connection while she was under Leith's power was uncharted territory. Syrus might have been able to consider there would be ramifications for her, if they hadn't been separated so long. But there were no thoughts in his head once he arrived in her apartment. He waited for her to return. Surrounded by her things, inundated by her scent. No, there were no thoughts when she came through the door. The connection took over both of them and brought them to completion. He was far from sorry. But now Forest was suffering something he couldn't stop, fix, or ease.
He scrubbed his hands over his face and walked back to the bedroom. He pulled his pants on and sat down on the edge of the bed, turning his flask around in his hands. Should he take another drink? Did he need his sight or his strength more at this moment? Syrus punched the mattress.
Damn it all to
hell
. He flipped the lid open and took a drink, fighting back the involuntary cry of pain in his throat as his eyes tore themselves open. If she was in pain, then he would be in pain, too.
The sound of the bathroom door opening had Syrus on his feet. Forest walked slowly around the corner, into his line of sight. He couldn't read her expression. Tears ran freely down her cheeks. She stood still, facing him, her whole body taught as a wire.
"Forest, what is it? What's wrong?"
"Well…uh…it…" she stumbled over her words, her face slack.
The next second her smile lit up the whole room and she squealed, jumping at him.
"LOOK!" She cried. "Look, look, look! Their gone, Syrus! GONE!"
"What's gone?"
"The marks! The lovers marks are gone!"
She thrust her upper arm toward his face. He looked closely at her skin. The straight line—the slave mark was still there, but the seven crescent lover's marks were gone. Her skin was pink, as though it had been roughly scrubbed.
"Oh look…my skin…gone…all gone…" Forest's words came out in jerky sobs, and she collapsed against Syrus, weeping uncontrollably.
He held her tightly, tears blurring his eyes as well.
"I'm half-free."
Syrus cupped her face in his hands and kissed her fiercely.
She took a deep breath, steadying the spasms in her lungs. "Oh, Syrus, I've never been so happy in my entire life. These last few hours… ever since you got here…have been so wonderful, like a miracle even. And now half of my scars are gone." Her voice broke again. "I love you so much!"
"I love you, too. More than I ever knew to be possible."
Shi hovered over Netriet as she slept, infusing her cells with energy pulled from The Heart. She was bemused at herself, not quite sure why she cared so much that this young vampire live. She considered Netriet's character equally split between good and bad. She had never saved the life of a vampire before. Maybe it was the novelty of the action that spurred her on, or possibly, it was her lack of having anything else to do. The Wood was now completely devoid of werewolves, now they had all marched off to war.
Netriet moaned as Shi knit one of her broken ribs back together. Shi kept her in a deep sleep at all times so she wouldn't have to experience any more pain. She smiled unwittingly at the vampire. Netriet's courage and strength reminded her of Forest.
She killed Philippe. I'd grow her a new arm for that if I could
.
Shi flew back to The Heart and cupped her insubstantial hands in the black flames of the manifestation. A small tongue of fire alighted on her palms. She took it back to Netriet. Slowly, Shi pushed her ghostly hands through the skin of Netriet's stomach; the fire rebuilt the walls of her interior organs.
A few more hours in her care, and Netriet would be better than new. Much better. Shi smiled as she imagined how happy and amazed Netriet would be when she woke up and found she was so much…so much…better? Superior? A shadow of doubt crept into the periphery of Shi's mind as she flew back to the Heart. She reached in again and brought a small tongue of flame close to her face. The Heart was black. The world was filled with dark emotion. What was that doing to Netriet? The power was healing her body but what was it doing to her spirit? Her psyche?
Shi brought the fire back to Netriet and sat down next to her. She toyed with the flame for a few moments. How many times had she infused it into the young woman? Could she remove it? Not without killing her. Should she kill her? What kind of monster was she creating? Would it have been a better kindness to have let her die?
As she contemplated ending Netriet's life, she realized she didn't have the heart for it. She would monitor her before releasing her back into the world. Shi looked closely at Netriet's sleeping face, and an emotion she hadn't felt for centuries darkened her…fear.
What have I done?
Shi stayed next to Netriet for days and waited for her healing to complete. Slowly, she began to bring her closer to the surface of waking. She began gathering things the werewolves had left lying around, thinking Netriet might need them when she made her way back out into the world. She fought against the desire to hold Netriet captive once she was awake. She wouldn't be the right kind of mentor the young woman needed. She would have to find her own way, decide right or wrong on her own. And despite her longing for company, Shi decided to move Netriet outside The Wood before she woke.
A few hours later, invisible in the branches overhead, Shi watched Netriet regain consciousness, instantly alarmed as the vampire opened her eyes. Her left eye was different. A smoky black tentacle snaked through her amber iris and wound a circle around her pupil. She could see the shadows veining through Netriet's heart, pushing deeper with each beat.
****
Awareness moved slowly, rising from the darkness. Netriet memories smeared together like modern art. She knew her name, where she was born, and the faces of her parents. Most memories were intact, but in her drowsy, semi-conscious state, she found her feelings skewed. The way she had always felt about certain things changed.
Netriet opened her eyes slowly. A canopy of branches stretched out overhead, blocking the morning sunlight.
How did I get here?
The titling sky as she fell, clasped to Philippe's chest, came back to her mind.
I was dead.
She sat up, surveying her surroundings, groping for her missing arm. Her fingers clutched a sleeve tied into a knot. These were not the clothes she had died in. Simple clothes that fit well enough and smelled like werewolf. She wiggled her toes in the too-big shoes. A lumpy pack sat next to her leg. She opened it. Food, water, a knife, and a change of clothes.
The transparent being
. Shi's eyes and voice came back to Netriet like the remnant of a dream. What had she done?
Netriet looked more closely at things. She held her hand up to her face, contracting and extending her fingers. Black scars laced the edge of her hand and ran down her wrist. Netriet looked at the contrasting color confusedly, suddenly worried about just how scarred her face might be and if it was lined with black as well.
She ran her fingertips lightly over her face. The ridge of a scar wound a jagged line next to her hairline and another on the temple by her right eye. Tears sprang to her eyes. The injustice of what had happened to her and what she had been reduced to, pulled down like gravity. She wrapped her arm around her knees and wept bitterly. What was she to do? Where could she go? Was there anywhere that would welcome a creature like her?
Netriet cried until her sorrow and self-pity were spent. Then something darker spread inside her, just under the skin. She raised her head, startled as if someone or something had called her name. And indeed, something had. Something inside her, another entity, unreasoning, volatile, and solely emotional.
Netriet struggled to her feet, picked up the pack, and slung it across her body. She eyed The Wood behind her dubiously. She had died in there and now she was…transformed. She had no desire to go back and investigate. She didn't give a damn for answers or excuses, if the transparent being would even give her any. Anger and blame clutched at her throat.
She looked out on the world ahead. Where would she go?
Did it matter? She was alive. Regardless of what she felt or wanted, she had to reinvent herself. She could shed her name and make up a story about how she lost her arm.
Netriet straightened her spine. She extended her fingers and contracted them into a fist. She would survive. She would carve out a future with her one hand.
****
Rahaxeris leaned back lazily in the throne, his sharp fingers drumming on the armrests. He didn't care for it. However, it was still necessary to make a show of his authority to everyone in the castle. If he was correct in his calculations—and he always was—Zeren would be arriving shortly, in a fit no doubt. He contemplated the outcome of his time with Zeren. Maybe Zefyre's missteps would work out for the better: perhaps not for the better of Regia as a whole, but better for Forest. He could be content with that.
Rahaxeris could feel the moment of the King's arrival approaching. "Everyone leave the throne room," he ordered.
The handful of courtiers who had been reduced to fearful wallflowers obeyed immediately with obvious relief. Only Merhl hesitated. Rahaxeris nodded that he should leave as well.
The portal burst into the middle of the room. Zeren charged out of it, followed closely by Redge. Zeren drew his sword, locking his eyes on Rahaxeris. Rahaxeris flicked his finger, sending out a wave of grey energy that formed a transparent barrier to block Zeren.
Zeren, arrayed in his battle armor and half covered in mud, roared and struck the force field with his sword. The energy vibrated momentarily then smoothed out, unharmed.
"How dare you?!" Zeren shouted. "By what right have you routed my castle?"
Rahaxeris stood. "By my right as a parent."
His words made no sense to Zeren. "What did you say? Where is Christiana?"
"Speaking of the queen, tell me, Your Majesty, is royalty above the law?"
Zeren's brow furrowed as he contemplated his odd situation and took a calming breath. "No. Royalty is not above the law," he said uneasily.
"Then we are in agreement. I acted within the confines of the law, was lenient even, when I dispatched Queen Christiana to another realm. The law allows a person the right to protect the life of their child if persons or an individual threatens it, by any means. And since you charged off to war, Christiana has made unjustified, daily attempts to kill my daughter, Forest."
"Forest? The Halfling?"
"Correct."
"
She's
your daughter?" Zeren asked incredulously.
"And your daughter as well."
"I'm sorry, what was that?"
"Our children are destined life mates."
Zeren sheathed his sword and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Leave us, Redge."
Redge bowed and left the throne room. The eavesdroppers outside the doors instantly accosted him.
"What happened?"
"Did that
Rune-dy
say what he did to the queen?"
"What's happening on the battlefield?"
"What is the king going to do about all this?"
"What's going to happen to us if that elf kills the king?"
Redge stretched his arms out and began walking, gathering and pushing the people in front of him.
"Move along, you great idiots," Redge ordered. "That elf would kill you in a heartbeat for listening at the door. Don't you think he knew you were there anyway?"
The entire group gasped at once and scattered down the halls.
Redge clanked down hall in his full armor, anxious to shed it. Making his way to his apartments, loosening the clasps of his vambraces, he caught sight of Merhl, pacing a small circuit and wringing his hands.
"Hey, Merhl."
The ogre glanced up nervously.
"Come and talk to me," Redge said.
****
Zeren paced and pulled at his armor as he listened to Rahaxeris talk. Processing his feelings wasn't easy. The world was flipping upside down. He had no way of knowing if what he was hearing was the truth.
"Okay. Hold it," Zeren said stopping Rahaxeris mid-sentence. "I'm going to need some time to think about all of this and to consult with my advisors about the legality."
"I understand that I have unloaded a lot of unexpected news on you, but you have apparently misunderstood one vital thing. I'm not giving you a choice."
"Now wait one damn minute. That's my throne you're sitting on."
"Not anymore."
The two men glared at each other, neither giving an inch.
After a moment, Rahaxeris’ face relaxed. "I'm not your enemy, Zeren. Everything I have done, every bit of scheming, killing, and double-dealing has been for my daughter. I've set the world on fire to make it new, for her. It never occurred to me that her destined life mate would be someone of such consequence. Despite all I have done to make a better world for her, I never intended to place her on this throne." He gestured to Christiana's place next to him. "But she is in the position to take it if she chooses."
"I guess she is," Zeren conceded vaguely.
"You want Syrus to be king, don't you?"
"Yes! Very much. I'm just not sure… what with all that has happened and everything you've told me…" Zeren narrowed his eyes at Rahaxeris. "Would you allow Syrus to become king?"
"The
Rune-dy
is passionate about turning Regia into a republic. However, personally, I want my child to be happy above anything else. If Forest desires to be queen, I will allow it."
Zeren stared at him, calculating. "All right. Let's leave it up to them. The future of Regia is theirs anyway. They can decide its fate."
"I agree."
"So where are they?" Zeren asked.
"Earth. I assume they are enjoying their new connection. Forest has had enough hardship in her life. I don't intend to call them home before they are ready to return. "
"Okay. What do we do in the meantime?"
Rahaxeris gave Zeren a half smile. "We crush the Werewolves' pride and end the war."
The foundations of Zeren's whole life swirled and he hesitated throwing his hat over the fence until he had more time to consider and test the individual in front of him. Major decisions made in the midst of crisis and chaos never set well with him. Zeren was certain Syrus was able to face any challenge but he'd been through so much. And now he'd found his mate, she'd bring new things to the table and already had in the form of a powerful and frightening father.