by Raine Thomas
Her uncle continued, “We’ve given Tate the past two hours to meet each of you. I’ll now turn to her and ask which of you she chooses.”
A flush heated her cheeks as all eyes turned to her. In attendance at the ceremony were her parents, her aunts and uncles, the elders, Tiege, C.K., Sophia and Quincy. And, of course, the ten Gloresti males even then awaiting her decision.
The fact was, any one of them was as good as the next. She hadn’t noted anything particularly remarkable about any of them. They all seemed well-trained and polite. She imagined they would each do a bang-up job of keeping her out of trouble. And they would be her obligated shadow for an unknown length of time. It was suddenly too much to bear.
Glancing up, she said in a quiet voice, “Dad…”
“Tate, we’ve had this conversation.” He caught her gaze and reached over to give her arm a squeeze.
Pursing her lips, she nodded. She didn’t agree with him, but the last time she had defied him, it hadn’t turned out well. Walking forward as she had been instructed so that she stood in the center of the circle of spectators, she looked from one Gloresti to the next.
“I choose Maddock,” she said eventually.
The male bowed and stepped forward to join her in the center of the circle. She read the satisfaction in his dark blue eyes as he approached. His blond hair was cut close enough to his head that she imagined it felt like fuzz when touched. Like his peers, he was tall and muscular with a number of pairing markings lining his skin.
“Okay, then,” Uncle Gabriel said. “Maddock, initiate the exchange of pairing vows.”
Tate allowed Maddock to reach down and lift her right hand. He held it palm-up. Then he placed his right hand palm-down on top of hers. His mouth opened.
“Have you all lost your damn minds?”
Tate’s eyes widened at the words and shifted to her right, toward the source of the question. She found her first genuine smile in almost two weeks.
Sparky.
He strode right between the remaining Gloresti, passing through the spot Maddock had vacated. Reacting to Sparky as he would any other intruder, one Gloresti who wasn’t rooted in surprise and confusion tried to stop him. Without even breaking stride, Sparky did something to the other male’s hand that had him on his knees and shouting in pain with one flick of his wrist.
Muttering something like, “You still telegraph your moves, Peter,” he walked up to Tate and Maddock.
“You would actually let her choose with whom she pairs?” he asked, looking at Uncle Gabriel. He yanked Tate’s hand from under Maddock’s and positioned himself between them.
“Hey—” Maddock started to object.
In a move so fast Tate couldn’t even react, Sparky reached down, grabbed a dagger from Maddock’s thigh scabbard, whirled her around, held her head back and jerked the dagger across her throat without actually touching her skin. Then he shoved the gaping Gloresti back a few feet and flung the dagger at the ground. It landed with an ominous thud just in front of Maddock, the handle quivering.
“She would be dead right now if I had intended it,” Sparky said in a voice rigid with fury as he once again hauled her behind him.
His gaze moved back to Uncle Gabriel, who now stood just a few feet away with his arms crossed over his chest. Tate realized her father and Uncle James were right beside him. None of them looked happy, but she had to take it as a good sign that they didn’t just kill Sparky.
“These are the Gloresti you selected to pair with her?” Sparky asked. “Do you not know her at all? She picked the one who agreed with everything she said. The first chance she gets, she will convince him to let her go off somewhere on her own.”
Tate flushed as the eyes of her family shifted to her. That thought hadn’t consciously entered her mind as she made her decision, but there was probably some truth to it. She acknowledged to herself that what had actually made her decision was the fact that Maddock looked more like Sparky than the others. Of course, with Sparky’s wildly disheveled hair and constant glower, there really wasn’t anyone just like him.
She would never admit that to her family, of course. So she just bit her lip and shrugged.
“How did you get through the protections?” Uncle Gabriel asked.
Tate noticed his eyes remained their calm blue-gray, telling her he didn’t perceive Sparky to be a threat. Since she had explained everything that occurred during her time away, she supposed she managed to convince her uncle to give Sparky the benefit of the doubt.
“I walked,” Sparky answered brusquely.
“You’re Zachariah?”
Tate glanced at her mom, who had asked the question. She stepped away from Aunt Amber and Aunt Olivia and approached the center of the circle, the gauzy skirts of her pink sundress molding to her round belly as she moved. As always, Tate couldn’t help but want to sigh in envy over her mother’s natural grace. Her long hair billowed gently around her in the soft breeze, giving her a sweet and innocent look. She came to a stop in front of Sparky, her curious, light blue eyes intent on his face.
When Tate looked at Sparky, she realized a rather remarkable change had come over him. He watched her mother with an expression between awe and bafflement. Rather than studying her face, which was the typical reaction of males who first saw her, he stared at her belly. His head actually tilted in consideration, as though he was wondering why it was so distended.
Then her mom reached up and touched Sparky’s uncontrollable hair. He flinched, but otherwise remained rooted to the spot. Her face lit with a radiant smile.
“I see,” she said with a nod. Then her smile faded as she caught Sparky’s gaze. She stepped closer and put her arms around him in a tight hug. “Thank you for saving my daughter’s life.”
Tate was torn between teary-eyed emotion and undeniable humor as Sparky looked down at her mother’s head planted somewhere in the middle of his chest. He held his arms slightly out to the side as if perplexed as to their function. He looked up at Uncle Gabriel with an expression that clearly said he needed some assistance.
Her uncle just quirked an eyebrow.
His face falling into a more characteristic glower, he gave Uncle Gabriel a good glare. Then he looked again at her mother. Sighing in resignation, he awkwardly patted her head. The action had Tate’s emotions tipping in the teary direction.
After another moment, Sparky said, “Your…” he trailed off in apparent thought, then continued, “stomach…is kicking me.”
Giggling, her mother finally let him go. “I’m sorry. The babies are very active at the moment.”
Her mother stepped away and moved to her father’s side. They shared a look. Tate knew they were exchanging thoughts. She found herself wringing her hands while she awaited the outcome.
Sparky had yet to look at her. He hadn’t acknowledged her presence outside of grabbing her, tossing her around, pretending to kill her and generally making her sound like an impulsive twit who would have been dead by now if left to her own devices.
She was so glad to see him her chest hurt.
Her father finally looked back at Sparky. “Why are you here, Zachariah?”
There was a long pause. She watched his eyes pan across the many beings staring back at him. He hesitated when he reached Malukali. Tate imagined he was considering the fact that the Orculesti elder could read his thoughts.
“She needs protecting,” he grumbled at last.
“What, exactly, do you think we’re trying to do here?” Uncle Gabriel asked dryly.
“Pairing her with fledglings like these is not protecting her,” Sparky countered. “It is setting her up to be killed. I could best all of these—”
“Yes, but you’re no longer a Gloresti, are you?” her father interrupted.
Sparky stiffened, but responded, “No.”
“Yet you appear to be suggesting that you’d make a better protector for Tate than any member of the class whose purpose is that of defense,” Uncle Gabriel said.
> “I would.”
The assertion was met with another wall of silence. Tate watched her uncles and aunts exchange more looks reflecting shared thought. Eventually, her father nodded.
“You’ve more than proven yourself by saving Tate’s life,” he said. “We’re grateful enough for your efforts that we’re open to the idea of you attempting to pair with her if she accepts it.
“But first, you have to undergo Malukali’s scan.”
Chapter 41
Zachariah had known this would be a possibility when he disregarded every argument he had with himself over the past couple weeks and deliberately brought himself back into Tate’s world. He had known he would be subjecting himself to the most intrusive, soul-baring invasion any being could undergo. He had known his deepest thoughts and memories would be mined and made the shared property of archigos Malukali and anyone with whom she wanted to share them.
Yet here he was.
Despite knowing better, he had opened his senses and followed his latent instincts as well as what remained of his connection to Tate to bring him to her. He couldn’t explain how he had been able to get through the heavy protections around her home. Even when he had been the Gloresti second commander, he had required archigos Gabriel’s mental permission to enter the realm in which he lived. Somehow, it was as though the protections didn’t exist for him now.
He had arrived earlier that day and skulked in the cover of the forest as he debated just how to make his presence known. He continued his mental arguments, trying to convince himself to leave. Tate had lived almost eighteen years without him. She probably didn’t want him around. Her parents would never accept him—a Mercesti—in her life. He had been removed from Estilorian society for too long to try to reintegrate. His life would be much simpler with only Nyx as a companion. Tate came with family. What the hell did he know about family?
When he overheard Tate’s cousin, Sophia, speaking with Quincy about the pairing ceremony, his internal debate continued. Tate’s parents intended to pair her with a Gloresti. She would be protected and live a normal existence without him in it.
The thought had caused an inexplicable pain in his gut. But he had used the knowledge as fuel for the part of himself arguing that he needed to get back to his old way of existence and forget about the bouncy-haired female who had disrupted it. He would make sure she was properly paired and then return to Nyx, he decided, never thinking of her again.
That had lasted until he watched her interact with the ten pairing candidates. From his position in the forest, he hadn’t seen her emerge from her home. He did, however, have a clear view of the Gloresti males when they spotted her for the first time. Their expressions were all dumbstruck. When Tate finally moved into his range of vision, led to the candidates by her parents and aunts and uncles, he took one look at her and knew there was no argument in the world strong enough to keep him from her.
And he wanted to kill every one of the Gloresti chosen to possibly pair with her.
Now, he held her father’s gaze. He felt Tate shifting behind him and knew she was anxiously rubbing her hands together. Because he still inexplicably sensed some of her emotions, he knew she was anxious about what he was going to say. It was because he had felt her unbridled joy when she saw him again that he now ultimately dismissed his better judgment.
“I will undergo the scan,” he said.
A few murmurs arose from the crowd. Behind him, Tate stilled. A low-level wave of shock and elation flowed through him, and he knew she was pleased by his response. For some reason, that made what he was about to endure a bit easier to bear.
Malukali stepped forward. Although her dark green eyes were kind, he couldn’t remember ever fearing another being more.
“I will do what I can to—” she began.
“Just get it done,” he interrupted.
Blinking over his abruptness, she quickly regrouped and nodded. Then she reached up and touched either side of his face. He felt her in his head the moment she touched him. Knowing they would only make things more difficult, he tried to lower the mental barriers he had erected over the centuries. His efforts were unnecessary, however. She laid waste to any resistance.
And before he was really ready, the memories he had thought were gone flooded back.
“We should be near the Mercesti camp, sir.”
Zachariah looked over at Gerald, one of the Gloresti chosen to accompany him on this trip to the mainland. The group was young and had enough arrogance and self-centeredness among them that they often made him want to bash their heads together, but they were well enough trained that they had earned the ability to leave the main base. He knew he’d train the arrogance out of them soon enough. As the Gloresti second commander, he had been in charge of this part of the Gloresti orientation for a number of centuries. He enjoyed it.
What began as a routine training session quickly morphed into something more urgent, however. A Waresti contingent came across a large group of Mercesti hunting for transitioned Corgloresti forms. One of the Waresti scouts found Zachariah and asked for aid, as the Mercesti had now split up into three groups. Using the information provided by the scout, Zachariah and his Gloresti soon found the trail leading to one of those groups.
Rubbing his head to ward off a headache, Zachariah nodded at Gerald. “Make certain everyone is armed and ready to engage. The moment the Mercesti make a move toward a Corgloresti transition point, we must be ready to defend against them.”
“We should go in after them now,” Gerald argued. The insubordinate comment wasn’t his first. “We can use the element of surprise—”
“They have not done anything to warrant an attack,” Zachariah interrupted, fighting the urge to shout at the promising but hot-headed Gloresti. “If you kill one of them without cause, what do you suppose will happen to you?”
Understanding Zachariah’s point, Gerald drew himself up and nodded.
They didn’t have long to wait. Just before dawn, the Mercesti made their move. Zachariah led the counterattack. He immediately found himself engaged in battle.
“Your trainees are pitiable,” said the Mercesti he faced. It was Angius, one of Grolkinei’s top commanders. “They are an embarrassment to your class.”
Never one to find conversation during battle productive, Zachariah didn’t reply. But he couldn’t stop the thought that Angius was right. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched two of his Gloresti fall against their opponents. A third one let out a cry of pain. It didn’t appear as though any of the Mercesti were falling. Rage such as he had never known surged through him.
Shaken by the intensity of the foreign emotion, he shook his head to clear it and focused on the confrontation at hand. Angius was remarkably skilled. Destroying him would be a great accomplishment for all Estilorians.
“Their ineptitude reflects very poorly on you,” Angius said with a strike of his cursed sword. “It makes me once again realize how weak Gabriel is.”
He was right. These Gloresti were all incompetent. They were making a mockery of everything his lauded leader stood for. They all deserved—
Realizing what thoughts had nearly run through his mind, he stepped away from Angius, backing away from a fight for the first time in his existence. Something wasn’t right. These weren’t his thoughts.
His head pounded. He had to call for a retreat.
“Gerald, however, appears more worthy,” Angius said. He moved toward Zachariah, not willing to stop. “He asked me to kill you so that he could have a chance to assume your role.”
That didn’t make any sense, Zachariah told himself as his thoughts grew more confused and the pain all but brought him to his knees. Blood seeped between his lips and he realized his nose was bleeding. His mind circled around the word retreat, but it was as if there was a disconnect between his instincts and his actions.
Gerald wasn’t remotely experienced enough to assume a command position, he thought. But then, how did Angius know Gerald’s name if not
from contact with him? This was Gerald’s first visit to the mainland.
Zachariah’s weapon shook in his hand. He no longer fought Angius. He fought himself.
His gaze shifted to Gerald, where the Gloresti provided a very impressive display of his fighting abilities. Several Mercesti fell even as Zachariah watched. Although he didn’t realize it, his feet drew him closer to the Gloresti male. One corner of his mind ordered him to go the other way, but that thought was quickly obliterated.
“He also told me,” Angius said from right behind him, “that when he has taken over your position, he will do whatever he can to bring Gabriel down, too.”
A blinding red haze of rage coated Zachariah’s mind. The pain in his head was so excruciating that he couldn’t focus through it. He didn’t fully register what happened in the next brief span of time.
But he knew when the haze finally cleared that the majority of the Gloresti now lying dead at his feet had been killed by his hand.
When he looked up, his head still pounding, he spotted Angius leaning against a nearby tree. Beside him stood a number of other Mercesti. Angius grinned. “You are our biggest achievement thus far. Congratulations…brother.”
As realization hit him, Zachariah was overcome by a shame and depth of despair so great that death would have been welcome.
Archigos Malukali removed her hands.
Zachariah blinked back to awareness. He noticed that dark green light continued to flow between them as she wiped at the tears on her cheeks. He also realized that the black memories he had just revisited were diminishing. She was doing something to make them less painful.
While part of him considered telling her not to, that he couldn’t afford to forget again, the rest of him said it was better to allow those wounds to heal however they could.
When she collected herself enough to do so, Malukali turned to Tate’s family. “You can rest assured that Zachariah didn’t convert willingly. Layla’s attack on his mind was so—he was forced—”
