“What?” Bryton gaped at her, his heart leaping at her words. “How?”
“As we flew together over the ocean, your spirit can fly with me in my realm.” Temptation tinged her words with honeysuckle nectar. The powerful sweetness surged through his blood. “We could be together for eternity.”
“No.” Myla’s voice spiked into their private haze with a steely edge. “You must remain here.”
Duty crashed on Bryton’s shoulders with the weight of a mountain. Love lured his heart in opposition to his oath. Tarsha’s question reared in his mind like a tidal wave. This was his test and it taxed more than his soul. It broke his heart. His destiny was set and did not include Salome. She could give him no child, no daughter to be the heartmate of a prince, the one day future queen of the people he’d delivered from tyranny and bloodshed.
Bitter denial washed over his tongue. To ensure the monarchy he’d pledged his life to, he had to remain and let Salome go.
Myla’s fingers arched into a claw-like spread and she hissed in fury. “You
must
have another child. You know this.”
Resentment and offense snapped Bryton to his full height. He was the King’s High Captain, his Might and his Law, not some lowly indentured serf who had to be reminded of his place. He knew his damned duty and didn’t need anyone, not even his rival-turned-queen, reminding him of it. Myla had her love, would grow old beside him, while Bryton simply grew old and lonely.
His vow was a freely given promise, not a task assigned like cleaning the stables or running the mill. It had cost him his left eye. That deserved the proper respect, even from the monarchy. Maybe she needed to be reminded.
Ire shimmered in Myla’s green eyes. A wild cat’s warning growl began in his gut. Protectively, he stepped in front of Salome. “I vowed to die or kill for the crown. I said nothing about knocking anyone up.”
“I’m missing something here.” Taric frowned at them both. “What’s going on? Myla, why’s it so important he have a second child?”
Myla said nothing, her gaze spitting razors at Bryton. The air between them flickered with barely concealed animosity. Myla’s snarl echoed Bryton’s in pitch and heat, and he bared his teeth. His blood surged at battle speed, thumping hard at his temple and neck. His mouth filled with embittered fervor and his knuckles grew white.
“Myla!” Taric’s shout turned her head. Her chin wobbled as she fought the truth she had denied telling him. Part of Bryton, the honor he’d held dear for all his life, prodded at him but he let her flounder. This was her choice, not his. He never vowed to protect her from her own secrets.
“Batu’s heartmate shall be Bryton’s second daughter.”
“What?” Taric gaped at her then spun to Bryton. “Bry, you have to—”
“No, I don’t
have
to. Not even the crown can make me fuck someone if I say no.”
Salome ducked her head, pressing her temple to Bryton’s shoulder blade. Heartmates were rare and priceless. She hadn’t known any still existed, passed down through blood that all but died out from an ancient gift turned curse. To be denied a heartmate was a living death. Taric’s son would never love, never have a child, would be alone throughout life and beyond. This was Bryton’s destiny. He must stay here, father another child, a future queen.
Dread wrapped around her, her knees locked tight so she wouldn’t fall. Dusty air pressed down, choking her. Every magic fiber twanged with tension as she struggled to stay in his world. Each minute drop of her humanity screamed in futility for not being what he needed. Deep in her hips, her useless womb cramped. Silver tears crested in her eyes and she sucked in a strengthening breath. She couldn’t stay and he couldn’t go.
His skin was warm, smooth and firm. The hard muscles of his back twitched in anger. She pressed her lips to his spine, tasting salt and the flavor of love. Her arms trembled around his waist and she tried to move them, to let go and step away, but the limbs wouldn’t listen to her brain. They listened to her heart and clung tighter.
Taric spoke slowly as if addressing a child. “Bry, if you go, then the monarchy dies with Batu. More importantly, he’ll never lo—”
“Stop telling me what I have to do! You think I don’t fucking know?” Bryton’s shout brought more dust from the walls. His agony rumbled beneath her lips, vibrating her soul. He loved her. The knowledge was powerful and horrible. It would have been better had he never loved her at all. “The monarchy isn’t going to die out. The son Myla’s carrying now could wear the crown.”
Jealousy swooped down with falcon speed, tearing into Salome’s soul. Myla had been a spell called to this realm. She’d given birth and now carried another child. Salome knew sacrifices had been made to allow that. Still, pettiness made her want to stomp her feet and rail at the sky. Who could give their life for her to have that same chance? No one but Bryton and then she wouldn’t want to live.
Her tongue fought her mouth, aching to plead with him to step away from his world and come with her. She could sway him, remind him he had given more than any soldier should ever be asked to give. He had delivered a peace over three decades in the making. He had cast off the shackles of oppression and violence, granting his homeland new life. Wasn’t that enough of a gift? Why did his destiny demand more?
But it did and it would not be set aside, not even for love.
Nothing could have made her step away from Bryton except for a child. The innocent of innocents could not suffer for her selfishness. Nature was powerful and unforgiving but it was never intentionally cruel. That thought steeled her spine and she slid from behind him.
Apparently the king had not known Myla was expecting. “What did you say?”
Bryton crossed his arms and glared. “Ask your kitty-cat. Her and her gifts are really chapping my ass right now.”
“Damn it, Myla, is this true?” Taric seethed. His finger stabbed at the air in front of her. “It is, isn’t it? You’re pregnant and didn’t tell me so I wouldn’t make your ass stay home.”
Myla ignored him and addressed Bryton. “Whether I carry again or not is unimportant. Batu will be alone if you leave.”
“Bryton.” Salome licked her lips, stepping in front of him and palming his cheek. His face was stony with rage but softened when he looked at her. Pinning a false smile on her lips, she nodded. “You must stay. Destiny cannot be altered without a price and this price is too costly.”
Firm hands cupped her cheeks, love flowing from his skin to hers. “I love you. You’re the reason I was given a second chance at life. If you hadn—”
“Your life is promised to the crown!” Taric roared. Paternal fear flushed his cheeks and glistened brightly in his eyes. Salome cringed at the blast of raw despair emanating around him.
Bryton shook his head, sorrow scratching his voice with misery. “My life, yes, my soul, no. I’ll die for you, Taric, have killed for you, but not even you can make me love another woman. It’s
my
choice whether or not I go with Salome, not yours. I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry? You sentence my son to an empty life and you’re sorry?” Taric’s lips went thin and his fists clenched tight. Behind him, Myla’s growl echoed low and soft, a deadly purr in a destroyed holy place. “You turn your back on a blood oath and you’re sorry? You’re not sorry, Bryton. You’re self-centered!”
Bryton’s sudden squeeze shot pain through the bones of her hand. She might have winced in agony had the ache in her heart not surpassed the clench. His upper lip curled and cold fury whistled through him. “Who nearly handed the entire fucking country to his enemy when he bonded with a magic spell? You had to get your ass skewered like a deer on a spit to change things. I can’t make Salome human. There isn’t anyone to die for her unless you’re volunteering. You got your love and a crown. I lose either way. If that’s too fucking difficult to get through your thick head, then yes, I’m sorry.”
Salome slipped her hand from Bryton’s grasp. He glared at Taric and Taric glared back, livid glowers that blinded them to her inching away. Queen Myla watched her with silent, scrutinizing eyes but made no move to interfere. She wouldn’t. Salome’s departure would reset Bryton’s destiny and spare her son a wretched, empty life. If Salome were gone, he could find another. With her tongue bitten between chattering teeth, she held her heartbroken sob in a burning chest. This she could give him. She would fade to her home realm like the dawn succumbing to daylight.
Her sandals left smudges in the dirt, tiny footprints to show she’d once lived. They too would fade over time. One brisk wind rippling down the mountainside would erase her path on this earth. Salome didn’t want to touch the evil stain of blood and chose a small clear space in full sunshine. She tilted her face upward, let the golden rays warm her human flesh for one last moment.
There was no time for a sweet goodbye. The men were still exchanging harsh words, flinging insults and tempers, clashing like two rival bucks for a seasoned doe. Bryton would be angry for a while, bitter and resentful. His friendship with the king would take time to heal. But destiny was never thwarted for long. Things would fall into their place, each peg into its allotted spot. The only hole left unfilled would be the one in her heart—a heart that had no structure. The heartache would be intertwined with her entire being for eternity.
Breathing deep, she raised her arms and opened to the cadence of magic rhythmically pulsing in her spirit. The glare of yellow sunlight sizzled to a flash of lavender. A waterfall of magic descended, wrapping around her like a mother’s arms cradling a newborn. Salome focused on the faraway heartbeat of a prism. Her body rose off the stone without the aid of wings, held aloft by magic’s hand.
She clung tight to her love, the touch of his hand, the fire of his kiss, the warmth of his embrace. These things, the memories, she would keep. A solemn bell tolled and the prism grew in intensity. Home beckoned with the promise of oblivion.
Taric froze, his eyes wide and his mouth opened. His sentence stopped midword. Bryton frowned and turned. Anguish stabbed into his soul. Salome was leaving him. Lavender radiance streaming from the bright blue sky surrounded her. Her hair danced wildly about her face. The blaze of her gown glittered like morning light. A rainbow shooting off the sides mocked his torment. A yawning ache formed in his heart and he screamed her name. Only Taric’s fast clutch prevented him from lunging toward her.
“No!” he cried, fighting at the hold around his arms. “Salome, wait!
“Farewell, beloved. Think of me when the morn kisses the night and know that you are loved in more worlds than your own.”
Her words were a magic sigh in the wind. Love-stained eyes found his and deepened with bereavement. She pressed a single kiss to her slender fingertips and blew it toward him.
Taric’s restraint fell away with a horrified murmur. “Oh, shit.”
Bryton took a charging step toward the magical beam that lifted her but Taric grabbed his arm. “Did you bed her?”
“What?” Disbelief scourged through him and he gaped at Taric. Salome was leaving this world and Taric wanted to have a man-to-man about sexual escapades?
“Just tell me if you did. Did she bleed?”
“It’s none of your godda—”
“Answer me!”
“Yes!”
Frenzied thoughts sparkled in Taric’s eyes in flashes of bronze and gold. “Did she bleed more than once?”
“Women only bleed once, Tar, unless you’re doing it wrong. Now get the fuck off me!” He ripped from Taric’s hold and rushed toward the cascade of enchantment.
A vibrating hiss shot over his shoulder in a screaming pitch. Salome jerked, her arms flinging wide, an arrow shaft embedded deep in her breast. A small bloom of blood welled on her chiton. The magic beam fractured and split, dropping her to the ground.
An ice-cold knife carved into Bryton’s heart, slamming him to a halt. The pulse in his temple pounded with gushing heat and air lodged in his lungs. He whirled. Taric stood poised, his bow still gripped in his extended arm.
“You son of a bitch!” Bryton’s fist connected with Taric’s jaw, snapping through the sanctuary like a thunder crack. His battle cry lodged in his pain-tightened throat as he landed on top of the king. He gripped Taric’s tunic and slammed him against the floor. Taric offered no defense and his golden head hit the stone with a sharp thwack. A bloody splatter fanned out.
“Why? She was leaving. You didn’t have to kill her!” With his lips curled back and hot breath soaring passed his teeth, Bryton’s every muscle quivered in agony, in betrayal. How could Taric do such evil? Heartbreak collided with treachery and sliced his soul to ribbons. A tiger’s growl powered through him. He slammed Taric harder against the stone. Another patch of blood smudged with dark wetness, the thud twanging up his arms. “I wasn’t going with her, damn it! I know my duty. I just didn’t want to be ordered to stay!”
Taric’s eyes went wide as Myla’s pointed boot tip rammed into Bryton’s ribs, forcing the air from his lungs. A fast throat punch followed by a kick to his chin knocked him off Taric. Her bony knee planted in his stomach and her sharp nails clamped on his windpipe. Bryton had no doubt she was going to rip him open like she’d once done to a wolf. He didn’t much care at that point.
Taric pulled her away. His ragged breath panted hotly over Bryton’s chin. “You were going to stay?”
Misery sapped Bryton’s wrath and torment twisted through him. “I took an oath, you dumb ass. Have you ever known me to break a promise? Why, Taric? I just wanted to say goodbye.”
“She’s alive.” Myla’s whisper raked his aching heart.
He whipped his head around. Crumpled on her side, blood flowing in bright red pulses, Salome gasped. The noisy breaths gurgled wetly. Her eyes rose to his, puzzlement and pain rounding them. He shoved Taric aside, his feet barely skimming the dusty ground as he raced to Salome’s side. A metallic tang filled the air as her blood dripped to the temple floor. His trembling fingers traced her cheek.
“Wind, Salome, mist to wind. Heal, sweetling, please.”
“No, Salome, don’t shift.” The royal command in Taric’s tone jammed the invisible knife deeper into Bryton’s back. He gritted his teeth. He was going to die for assassination because once Salome healed, he was beating the shit out of Taric.