Prince of Forever

by Gena Showalter

  “Do not hurt her, Zirra,” he commanded. “’Tis me you want.”

  Fear, then. How she hated the terror this big, strong man had to face.

  “You are right.” Zirra narrowed her eyes and wiped the blood from her lip with the back of her hand. “I do want you, Tristan, but your bitch is going to suffer first.”

  The man at Zirra’s side flicked his tongue over an incisor.

  When the sorceress raised her arms, Tristan launched at her. Too late. By the time he reached her, she’d already uttered a spell, her volume too low to make out her words.

  An eerie heaviness settled over Julia’s eyelids, lethargy coursing through her veins. “Tristan,” she said, weaker by the second. Her knees buckled. Thankfully, he rushed back to her side, catching her before she hit the ground.

  * * *

  “WHAT DID YOU DO to her?” Tristan demanded of Zirra.

  She merely smiled, as smug as always.

  “Julia. Draga,” he whispered, cupping her cheek. “What is wrong?”

  No response.

  “What did you do to her?” he roared again.

  “Romulis helped me regain my powers,” Zirra said, gloating. “I used them to cast a spell of sickness over the girl.”

  “Break it. Now,” Tristan commanded. Fear raced through him, more potent than any other emotion he’d ever endured, because he knew Zirra would not heed him. She was evil incarnate. If she could cast him to an eternity of hell when she professed to love him, what would she do to Julia, a woman who stood in the way of her possession?

  Julia’s skin quickly bleached of color, the blue trace of her veins visible beneath it. She was silent, lifeless. “Save her,” he said, nearly choking on his tongue. His eyes blurred as he addressed Romulis. “Save her now.”

  “I cannot.” The warrior directed a darker scowl to Zirra. “The Druinn cannot break each other’s spells, and well Zirra knows it. I did not bring her here for this. Did not know her powers had returned in full force.”

  Tristan clenched his fists around Julia’s clothing. He needed her, needed her more than he needed to take his next breath. He needed to spend an eternity with her. Needed to hear her laugh and see her smile every—single—day.

  To him, she represented everything that was good and right. She did not deserve the fate Zirra had planned for her, a torturous punishment that only an unstable mind could mete out. He could not let this happen. He could not let Zirra hurt Julia.

  He had once refused to beg this sorceress for his own life. But he would beg for Julia’s. And he would do so with pleasure.

  Without another thought, he gently laid Julia atop her table, tenderly caressed her cheek, then faced Zirra. She was scowling. Head high, he dropped to one knee.

  “What are you doing?” she sputtered. “Get up!”

  Kneeling, he pressed his hands together, creating a steeple.

  “Tristan.”

  “Please, Zirra. Let me have the life I have built for myself. Let me have Julia healthy and whole and in peace. Please… I am begging you. Leave us to our life. Then I will return to you willingly.”

  A seething Romulis strode to him and tried to jerk him to his feet. “Do not beg her for anything,” he said.

  Tristan held fast, remaining on his knee.

  Zirra stumbled back a step, gasping, “You dare beg me now? And for her? She is nothing, I tell you. Nothing!”

  “Nay, she is everything.”

  She gave a violent shake of her head. “I will not let you do this. Where is your box? Tell me, and I’ll let the whore live.”

  He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “Please, Zirra. Please. I swore never to beg again, yet here I am.”

  Zirra screeched, “Where is your box?”

  Romulis released Tristan and grabbed her shoulders to shake her. “Do you see what he is willing to do for this woman? Do you see how much he wants her? How much he does not want you?”

  Tension crackled between them.

  “You know not of what you speak,” she snapped.

  He rattled her again. “How can you not realize you are meant to be my life-mate?”

  She tried to slap away his arms without success, grating, “I do not realize it because it is not true.”

  Tristan listened to the exchange, vacillating between hope and dread.

  “Liar.” A pause, then Romulis narrowed his eyes. “I am calling in my favor. You will leave Tristan and his woman alone.”

  “No!” Panic washed over Zirra’s features. Then she paused and smiled slowly. “I-I am afraid I’ve already granted your favor, Romulis. You told me to come here and here I am.”

  A muscle ticked beneath his eye, until finally he ground out, “Curse you, Zirra. You destroy everyone in your life.”

  “What do you care, Romulis?” Haughty now, she flicked her hair over one shoulder. “Even without Tristan I would not come to you.”

  All emotion drained from Romulis, his features going blank. He dropped his arms to his sides and stepped away from her.

  Tristan tried one last time to save the life of the woman he cherished. “Heal her and let me stay here with her, Zirra. Please. Then I’ll do this and whatever you desire for the rest of your life.”

  Mouth tightening, glaring, Zirra strode to him. “Get off your knees, curse you. Stand before your master.”

  He remained where he was, sweating, trembling. Zirra wasn’t going to grant his request. Stubborn pride all but seeped from her pores. There was only one thing he could do, then. His stomach twisted painfully. How great would his suffering be because of his next action?

  Immeasurable.

  But he would do anything to save Julia’s life. Anything.

  “Do you vow to heal Julia,” he said, “to leave her and all of her family alone, if I give you the box and leave with you now?”

  Zirra’s nostrils flared but she nodded. “Aye.”

  “Swear it by the Kyi-en-Tra Crystal,” Tristan added. Such a vow could not be broken without death.

  To his surprise, she didn’t hesitate. “I swear by the Kyi-en-Tra Crystal not to harm Julia or her family if you give me the box.”

  So let it be done.

  Defeated, he bowed his head. “Let me first say goodbye.” Dying inside, he pushed to his feet and leaned over Julia, whispering in her ear, “Remember me fondly, sweet draga, for I will never forget you. Live your dream. Love another. Have your children and be happy.”

  Then. That moment. He understood why and how Julia had fought to get his confession of love. Love was giving willingly, not taking, putting the needs of another first.

  She moaned when he placed a soft kiss on her lips. As he lifted his head, he tried to memorize her features.

  “You’ve said goodbye,” Zirra snapped.

  Everything inside him crumbled, but he motioned with a tilt of his chin. “It is there.”

  Zirra rushed over, dropped to her knees and waved her hand over the plant, unleashing a stream of magic. The stand shattered, and a gasp parted her lips. Slowly, reverently, she lifted the box.

  “I have fulfilled my part of the bargain, Zirra.” He nuzzled his cheek against Julia’s. “Now fulfill yours.”

  She clutched the box to her chest with one hand and waved the other. Julia moaned again, stirring this time. Color flooded her cheeks, and he pushed out a relieved breath. Her eyelids fluttered open.

  “Tristan?” Julia reached for him.

  Though it was the hardest thing he had ever done, he walked to Zirra.

  “You will be in my bed this night,” the black-haired witch purred as she ran a fingertip over his chest.

  He shuddered, sickened by her touch.

  “Tristan,” Julia repeated, shouting now.

  Without uttering a word, he returned to his box, and Julia’s world disappeared from view.

  * * *

  TRISTAN FELT THE box’s walls close around him. Darkness enveloped him as he became a vaporous entity. Before, it would have killed him
to willingly enter his prison, but now…now he was happy for it. Julia was safe. Nothing else mattered.

  * * *

  “COME.”

  He heard Zirra’s summons and obeyed without hesitation, exiting the box and appearing in her bedchamber. The walls, the bed, the floor, were all as white as he remembered. The perfect contrast to her black heart.

  “Zirra,” he said with a nod of acknowledgment.

  “I am here, my pet.” She stood at the hearth, naked and ready. Flames kindled behind her, illuminating her body with a glowing amber halo. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I have been waiting for this summons,” he said, and she must have caught the truth in his tone, because her smile widened.

  “Did I not tell you the other girl meant nothing?”

  He kept his tone mild, soothing. “You did say that.”

  Now her eyes softened. “You are mine once again.”

  “That is the way it appears.”

  “Come here and welcome me with a kiss.”

  He closed the distance, hating every step that brought them closer together. The moment he reached her, she cupped his cheeks to force his head down. Their mouths pressed together, and she thrust her tongue deep. He hated her taste, her smell, the way her teeth scraped his, so he did not respond in any way. He stood as still as a statue, not even moving his tongue.

  When his response did not meet with her approval, she rocked back and huffed. “I will make you forget that woman if it kills you.”

  Tristan crossed his arms over his chest. “Before you start, there’s something you must know.”

  She ripped off his shirt and licked his nipples, mumbling, “And what is that, slave?”

  “You were right. Love matters, and I was wrong to spurn yours.” Love was precious. True love, anyway. What Zirra felt for him was not love. It couldn’t be. She took, and took, and took, and never gave.

  Her head jerked up, and she met his gaze. “What are you doing? I kept my end of the bargain. I healed the girl. You cannot do—”

  “I kept my end of the bargain, too. I gave you the box. I severed ties with the woman I craved more than air. I willingly became your slave to serve your every whim. But now…now the time has come to break your curse.”

  “Tristan—”

  “I—love—Julia—Anderson.”

  Four words that he’d once considered impossible to utter. Four simple words that were suddenly more real and emotion-filled than any he had ever spoken before. He loved Julia. Everything about her appealed to him. Her softness and beauty. Her wit and intelligence. Her drive to succeed. Her honesty and loyalty. Unlike his other guan rens, she did not make him weak. Nay, she made him strong. Not once had she sought to master him. She’d only ever sought to return his affection.

  “I love Julia,” he said again.

  Just like that, the spell that Zirra had cast, sentencing him to centuries of agony, finally broke at long last.

  Zirra threw back her head and screamed as the air around him whirled.

  The gale force thrust him against the wall. Invisible bands snapped from his wrists and neck, every docile acceptance he had ever given lifting from his shoulders. He doubled over when his cells blazed white-hot, the magic burning, leaving his pores in ribbons of smoke.

  By the time he straightened, he knew he was free.

  Free!

  But the knowledge held no joy. Only a painful reminder that he was without Julia. No Druinn would escort him back to earth, even if they’d wanted to prick Zirra’s ire. Not without another Imperian there to anchor the magic. The best they could do was hurl him through the cosmos, like before. By the time he reached Earth again, Julia would be dead.

  Zirra yelled with rage and flung herself at him, hitting and kicking. What should have been a catapult of teeth, fists and nails—a warrior woman at her finest—was merely a creature to be pitied. He recognized her agony, because he experienced his own. He understood her obsession. He understood it so well, in fact, he could almost forgive her. Almost.

  “I will not rest until you’ve suffered a thousand deaths,” she spat, then collapsed to the floor.

  “You cannot curse me again, not when my heart is full of love. But worry not. I will suffer forever, anyway, for I am parted from the woman I love.” How true those words were. His life was nothing without Julia.

  He pivoted to leave when a thunderous sound stopped him.

  Percen, High Priest of the Druinn, appeared in a brand new whirl of wind, resplendent in his royal robe of turquoise and scarlet cloth. “I wish words with you, Tristan. But first…” He pointed an accusatory finger at Zirra. “I will deal with you, a disgrace to our kind.”

  “I am the best of our kind,” she snarled, jolting up.

  “Keep talking. You are only increasing the scope of your punishment.”

  Gone went her haughty smile, her smug air. She snatched up her robe to cover herself and blurted, “What of Romulis? He aided me.”

  “Nay. He aided me by distracting you. He thought he could save you in the process. Alas.”

  She licked her lips and backed up a step. “Percen—”

  “I told you to leave this mortal alone,” he continued. “I told you the Fates would one day return him.”

  Tristan listened to the exchange and just felt…empty. He could not hate the man for having sent him to Julia, any more than he could despise Zirra for it. But he could certainly mourn all he’d lost.

  “Percen—” the sorceress tried again.

  Percen silenced her with a wave of his hand. “You will interfere in the lives of mortals no more. The Alliance is too important to our kind.” He raised his hands and uttered a spell very much like the spell Zirra had uttered over Tristan so long ago.

  Her eyes widened with horror as her body morphed into mist. Mist that got sucked into the very box Tristan had once occupied.

  The sovereign looked to Tristan. “I cast the world traveling spell because the time had not yet come to free you. Do you forgive me?”

  “I understand and forgive.” And he did.

  “The Druinn will leave you in peace.”

  “Wait,” Tristan rushed out. “I would first beg a favor from you.”

  Percen paused, his expression weary. “I know what you plan to ask.”

  “There is an otherworlder, Julia.”

  “Aye. This.”

  “I ask that you send me back to her somehow,” he finished. If anyone could do it, it was this man, who’d visited Earth a time or two himself.

  The male shook his head. “Your place is here. The centuries you endured on other worlds have not yet passed here. To us, you have been gone a short while. We are still adrift as the rebellion grows, and we need leaders such as yourself. But most importantly, it has already been prophesized that your firstborn will one day rule Imperia, ending the feud between our people once and for all. I am sorry, but you must stay here.”

  Tristan blinked, almost choking on a wave of longing. My child will rule? “I will have a child with Julia and no other.”

  “Would you have this planet at war, simply to be with your woman?”

  “Yes! I would burn this planet to the ground to be with her. So bring her to me. I will give her as many children as possible.”

  “What if she does not wish to come? She has a shop to run. A sister.”

  He lifted his chin. “She will come to me. She loves me.”

  Percen sighed. “Very well. If you spend the next season fighting the rebellion and still yearn for the otherworlder—and if she wants to come to you—I will bring her to you.”

  Knowing he had no other option to gain his heart’s desire, Tristan gave a stiff nod.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Your Greatest Satisfaction Is Knowing

  You Pleased Your Mistress

  “JULIA,” FAITH SAID on a sigh. She sat beside Julia’s bed, concerned. “Tristan left you. You can’t mope here forever, neglecting your life and your business, praying for him
to return. You have to move on. No man is worth this amount of suffering.”

  “You don’t understand, Faithie,” she croaked. She’d known saying goodbye to him would be hard. Brutal, even. She’d thought she would be prepared. But this…this was the cruelest torture, loving Tristan and living without him.

  She’d always thought of herself as content. A mistake. She’d never known true contentment before Tristan.

  Murky darkness filled her bedroom, the curtains drawn, the lights switched off. She liked it this way. Here, she could remember; she could picture Tristan in her mind and could catch a hint of his lingering scent on the sheets and pretend that he really was here.

  “Just go, Faith.” She wanted to be alone with her memories.

  Don’t cry. Whatever you do, don’t cry. Once you start, you’ll never stop.

  “I went out with Peter again yesterday,” Faith said. “Some women like excitement. I like boring. For some reason, when he starts talking about plants and gardening, I get all hot and bothered.”

  “I’m glad you had fun. Love you. Goodbye.”

  “We’re going out again tomorrow,” Faith continued, ignoring the many hints Julia had dropped.

  “Go home and start getting ready now,” she said, making a shooing motion.

  Her sister remained undeterred. “Refusing to leave your bed isn’t going to help you. Thousands of women have been dumped all over the world. You have to pick yourself back up and prove you can live without him.”

  “He didn’t dump me.” She’d heard every word. Had heard Tristan tell her to live her dreams, had heard his unspoken vow of love. He’d left with Zirra to save her. Oh, how she ached for him, for the tortures he must be enduring. “He was forced to go.”

  Faith snorted. “That man was a mountain. No one could force him to do anything he didn’t want to do.”

  “Yes, they could.” Her voice almost imperceptible, she told Faith the entire story. Her sister didn’t believe her, and she didn’t have the strength to convince her.

  She’d closed her shop this past week. She simply hadn’t had the time or the energy to work. She needed Tristan, and her every waking moment was spent here at the house, in bed or on the computer, searching for information about magic and spells, something, anything to lead her to Imperia.