Fit for the warrior princess who carried it.
Shaking himself from his stray thoughts, he swiveled his head to see Trystan step back and reach down before rising to the pyre again. A gleaming broadsword rested in his hands.
For the past seven nights, after tracking Kylian's warriors and searching for their base of power, Trystan would come home and light a candle to add to the others surrounding her pyre. He'd not eaten a bite during the feasts to celebrate Ciarra's life, only sitting quietly among the celebration. After placing his candle, he would kiss his fingers, place them on her wrapped head, and move to a fallen log nearby. There he would sit for hours, polishing her sword, making it perfect to send with her.
Now Trystan leaned in, gently placing the sword close to her right hand. Her power hand. He bowed his head, whispering words even Rhys's advanced hearing couldn't pick up. But he heard the torment in them. Trystan’s voice shook as it ground out of him, pulling at Rhys’ heart, adding to his own grief. Then he stepped back and met Rhys's eyes, his tortured one filling with tears again. Rhys extended his hand, giving Trystan the torch. They clapped shoulders and shared a nod. An acknowledgement of their shared grief. A wish Rhys could take the hurt from his Beta.
But he would heal and so would Trystan. It might take bloodshed and private tears, hidden in the dark of night, but they would move on.
Rhys watched one of his dearest friends lay the torch to the cloth cradling his love, hesitating before finally lighting the pyre. They all moved back as one, eying the flame that engulfed their sister, their lover, their friend.
Minutes, maybe hours later, the crowd dispersed, each going their separate ways to mourn as they saw fit.
Except for Rhys, Trystan, Amanda, and Talon.
The four of them stalked silently to Rhys's hut. Halfway there, he nodded to his own mage, Bowen. Though a powerful mage, he was a warrior as well. Tall, as they all were, though slightly smaller in build than the rest of the males. His long brown hair fluttered in the breeze as his wise, bright blue eyes took them in and mirrored their sadness. He joined their procession.
Rhys followed his friends and advisers into the hut, flipping on the light as he went. They had tapped into nearby lines, and thanks to Bowen and his powers, had flowing, clean water as well. At least they had a few of the comforts they were used to. Still, it wasn’t the comfort he’d grown up in. The furniture was rough-hewn, most made from trees they’d culled. The one room dwelling with his bed in the corner of the living area served its purpose, though.
He didn’t require comfort to fight a war.
Chairs scraped across the wood floor and creaked as the large warriors settled themselves around the simple, roughhewn table. Rhys sat last, eying each one.
Bowen, the oldest of them and his lead mage, sat straight and silent, waiting for Rhys to speak. He counted on Bowen not just for his magic, but for his reason. The male was logical to a fault. He sat in his usual position, hands folded and resting on the table, his stoic face devoid of the emotion that raged in his cerulean eyes.
Talon and Amanda leaned their heads together, throwing strategy back and forth. The two looked so much alike they could almost be twins. A pang struck his chest at all they’d lost, some of the same losses that had touched him so deeply. Yet they fought on, determined to put the rest of their family back together. Well, the parts that could be reassemble.
They were both animated, the warrior in Talon arguing with the mediator in Amanda. The one who wanted peace but had no problem fighting to attain it. They both wanted vengeance but, judging by how heated the discussion was becoming, they disagreed on how to obtain it.
Trystan was still and quiet. His face expressionless, the ruthless warrior contained to furious eyes and tension in his muscles. He wouldn't be quiet for long. A storm was building inside his friend. Emotion churned, stirring up the man's guts, stoking the flames of rage burning in those dark eyes. Only once before had Rhys seen Trystan in such a state, and that had been when Amanda had nearly died on the battlefield.
Said female reached over, still arguing with her brother, and took her best friend's hand. Trystan didn't move his stare from the spot he'd chosen on the wall, but he squeezed back.
When would those two realize they were made for each other? That they loved each other desperately and were meant to be together?
Rhys shook his head. It seemed that most often, everyone but the couple in question could see it. At the moment, Trystan was blinded by grief. Rhys could only hope that one day he would heal and see the diamond in front of him. The gem created just for him.
That brought his thoughts back to why he'd called this meeting and dropped a ball of lead in his gut. Makenna.
His queen.
His mate.
He wasn't afraid to tell them he'd found her. But he'd just realized this was the first time he would speak her name aloud. The first time he would publicly state she was his. The first time he'd state his intention to claim her.
Rhys cleared his thoughts and his throat. “I have some news.”
The room fell silent and all eyes turned to him.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and clasping his hands. Were they shaking? Rhys gave himself a good internal kick in the ass and lifted his gaze.
“I found her.”
Talon and Amanda exchanged a look full of cautious hope.
Amanda spoke. “You found her?” She whispered the words, as if afraid to believe them. She closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, stronger but still guarded hope shone in them. “Are you certain it's her?”
Rhys inhaled deeply, remembering her scent of vanilla and strawberries. “Yes. I'm certain. I found Makenna.”
Amanda jumped up, a smile lighting her face as she turned to embrace Talon who now stood by her side. She wiped at her eyes and pulled Rhys up to hug him. “I'm happy for you. Finally, we have—I mean, you have your queen.”
Rhys gave a half smile and nodded, accepting the congratulations. Nerves on edge, his insides in chaos, and still he couldn't hide the part of him that was so happy to have found her.
Bowen smiled, excitement growing on his face. “Having the Morrigan will help us immensely. And I’m happy that you have your mate at last.” His wolf shown in his eyes, sharing his joy.
Trystan wasn't nearly as pleased. He tossed his chair back, joining the rest of them on his feet. Every muscle he owned strung tight as a bow. “You cannot claim her right now.”
That certainly wasn't the reaction Rhys had expected.
Rhys sent his own chair flying. His expression hardened and a muscle ticked in his jaw. “Why not?” His chest heated. He didn't like being told what to do or not to do, but more than that, his entire being revolted at even the thought of being kept from Makenna. “What's the problem, Trys? We've all been searching for her for years. Why all of the sudden are you against me claiming her?”
Rhys used the pack link to dig deeper into his friend’s mind, searching for the source of his anger. He ran into a solid barrier. Whatever the cause, it was buried deep.
Trystan shook his head vehemently. His eyes flashed as he dragged both hands through his hair, leaving the dark mass scattered over his shoulders. “Do you know where she's been all these years? How she was raised? Does she even know who she is?”
The tone of his voice said he knew some of those answers.
Rhys instantly straightened, his shoulders going back. “No. I don't. But it appears you might.” Eyes narrowed, he rounded the table to stand almost nose to nose with Trystan. “Tell me.”
Trystan met Rhys's stare head on. “I don't know anything for sure.” Rhys wondered if anyone else in the room could smell the bitter, acidic fragrance of the lie. “But we have no idea which side she's on. She could be working with Kylian for all we know.” The venom in his voice increased as he spoke. He broke the stare, eying the door. “It's too much of a risk. You should wait. At least until we've defeated Kylian.”
&nbs
p; Rhys moved in until they were chest to chest. “You're a liar.” Trystan had never lied to him before, and he couldn't imagine why he did so now.
Amanda gasped and Talon stepped closer, ready to intervene. For the Alpha to call the Beta a liar, in front on witnesses, was a rare thing. They always presented a united front. That front was currently beginning to crack.
Bowen rose, his power massing in his hands, glowing a bright orange.
Trystan growled low. “Watch it. You're not king yet, Rhys.”
“No. But I am your Alpha and your friend. You will tell me what you know.”
Trystan’s fists tightened so that his knuckles cracked. “I know nothing except that our best warriors are being killed off in seemingly random incursions. There were the three that we know of, and now Ciarra.” He choked on her name and his lip curled. “Kylian has to be behind these attacks and we need to find him. That's a little more important than you gaining a new form, someone to fuck every night, and a throne that won't change anything.”
Something inside Rhys snapped. He sprang forward faster than thought, pinning Trystan to the wall with a forearm across the throat. Talon grabbed his shoulder and Rhys shook him off. He was Alpha, not Trystan. If Trystan thought he could brush him aside, he didn’t understand him at all.
Rhys's voice dropped to a low rumble. “I know you're hurting. I know you miss her. But you will not take your grief out on me.” He had his own grief to deal with. His own failure that lead to his people dying around him.
Bowen tried to step between them, and Rhys pushed him away with one arm, still pinning Trystan. Bowen raised his hands and backed up.
Rhys turned his full attention back to his Beta. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I’ll back off and you’ll tell me what you know. No more secrets.” Rhys held Trystan’s eyes in a hard stare. He wouldn’t have his second in command, any of his people for that matter, lie to him.
Trystan remained rigid, fighting Rhys’ hold.
Rhys slammed him again. “Dammit, Trys! What the hell is going on with you?”
“They killed Ciarra!”
“I’m trying to stop him from killing more!” The rage building in Rhys was hot and unstoppable. “I can only protect our people to the fullest with the Morrigan by my side. You know this.” Trystan pushed against his hold and Rhys loosened it, weariness like he’d never known seeping into his bones. “I miss her too, but protecting an entire clan takes precedence over one life.” The words cost him and he sagged.
Sometimes he hated being Alpha.
The price of those words went up as Trystan slammed a fist into Rhys's ribs, another to his kidney. Rhys pressed harder into Trystan's throat and buried his left fist in his gut. Amanda shouted while Talon tried to separate the men.
Amanda sighed and pulled Talon back. “Let them go. Maybe it'll help.”
Bowen sat back down like he was bored with the drama. “She’s right. Hopefully they’ll knock some sense into each other.”
Rhys barely heard them as Trystan brought a knee up. It missed Rhys's groin as he pivoted, tossing Trystan across the room. He landed against the far wall, shaking the hut and denting the paneling. In a blink, he was up, diving over the table. He hit Rhys in the midsection, sending them both flying into the far wall.
They busted through the flimsy structure. The two landed in the mud behind the house, sending brown muck and water flying.
Rhys had no idea how long the brutal fight went on. All he knew was that it tore at his soul to be fighting his best friend. But if Trystan knew something about Makenna, Rhys needed that information. And if beating it out of Trystan was the only way to get it, then he’d do it.
Neither of them held back. Punch after punch, kick after kick, they both tried to rid themselves of the fury and grief within.
A crowd gathered, forming a circle around them. They were warriors and loved a good row. Fights often broke out, some in fun, some to settle an issue. It was their way. But unlike when observing the other fights, the crowd was quiet.
Things were different. The battle reeked of agony, grief, and emotional turmoil. Two best friends, bloodying one another because they couldn't contain the madness within.
“Yield!” Rhys pinned Trystan to the ground, blood dripping from his forehead and nose onto Trystan's own bloody chest.
“No.” Trystan grunted. He shifted his hips, throwing Rhys to the side in an attempt to switch their positions.
Rhys recovered, jumping to his feet with ease. Trystan did the same. They circled each other, growling. Trystan's eyes were crazed, full of pain and disbelief.
“Trystan, enough!” Rhys had to reason with him. If they kept going, the rift this created could never be healed.
“Promise not to touch her until we have Kylian.”
“I can't do that. You know I'll be stronger, we'll be stronger, when I mate.” He glanced around at the gasps and looks of confusion from his people. Well, better they know. “We need her, Trystan. We can't defeat Kylian without her and you know it.”
“No I don't! There's a good chance she could be against us.” Something flashed in Trystan's eyes, but Rhys couldn't decipher it.
“I've read her, been near her. There's not an evil bone in her body. She's nothing like Kylian or his followers. You have my word.”
“You can't know that! You've spent what, a few minutes with her? She could have tricked you. She could be drawing you in.” Trystan scanned the crowd, as if trying to get them on his side. “Your mate could be the downfall of us all.”
Trystan stopped circling and stretched his neck as understanding flitted through the crowd. Their Alpha had found his mate. He watched as some smiled, some frowned, and others simply sported brows creased with confusion. He wondered what their whispers said, how they would respond to Makenna. He could only hope they would accept her without reservation.
He had to make sure they did.
What he said now would set the tone for her reception. It would set the tone for how the pack moved forward, and for the rest of his relationship with his Beta. He had to convince them it was necessary for him to mate. That it was best for all of them.
Because there was no way he could be without Makenna now that he’d touched her.
“I swear to you, she will not be. I will be stronger, and in turn our people. We will have added another warrior to our ranks, one with power most only dream of.”
“And that doesn't concern you? You're not concerned her power might be greater than yours? She could be being used to get into our inner circle, to feed our plans and weaknesses to Kylian. She's a weakness anyway even if she's not been turned. Mates always are.”
Rhys didn't miss Trystan glancing at Amanda and her fiery eyes and flushed cheeks in response. They really needed to deal with the shit between them. He wanted to shake Trystan’s words off, but he’d just voiced Rhys’ own fear.
He squared his shoulders and looked Trystan in the eyes. “She won't be a weakness, she will be a strength. Strength we need if we are to end this war.”
“You're blinded by your desire for your mate, your desire for the throne.” Trystan spat the words at him. Before Rhys could respond, Trystan shook his limbs out as a familiar shimmer began to sparkle around him.
“Think carefully before you do this, Trys.” Rhys's heart broke as he said the words. He'd never thought he'd have this conversation, this moment, with his best friend. “If you shift, you're challenging me for the position of Alpha. You know this. Don't, Trystan.”
“Maybe someone should!” Trystan's voice wavered, rage and agony coloring his words. “You're not thinking about your people, those who've died for this war. You're so focused on having your mate you can't see she might destroy us!” Trystan scanned the crowd, looking for support and finding only sorrow and pity. They knew where his uncharacteristic behavior sprang from. “All of you, can't you see? He's forgetting those who've been by his side, fighting. Dying.” Trystan locked eyes with Rhys, tears forming in his ow
n as the anger faded, chased by raw, vicious grief. “He's forgetting Ciarra.”
Trystan was bordering on madness. A madness greater than his pain over losing Ciarra.
“Trys, please. I’m not forgetting her. I’m honoring what she fought for. We’ve all been looking for Makenna. It’s been primary to our mission for years. She’d want this.” Rhys took a chance and stepped forward. “Let's end this. You don't want to challenge me.”
Trystan gave Rhys a tortured look that clenched his chest. “I just want to punish those responsible for her death.” He seemed to deflate as his bluster began to desert him. Tension still hung in the air, but it was fading.
“I understand. I want that too. But my mating is the only way we can do that.”
Trystan shuddered, releasing more of the tension surrounding them. The crowd dispersed, knowing it was over and what happened next wasn't for their eyes.
Rhys edged closer, waving to Talon and Amanda to stay back. Bowen simply stood with his arms crossed, assessing the situation.
A cornered wolf was a dangerous wolf. Trystan still shimmered, hanging on the brink of a shift, his pain fueling him.
“Socair, my friend. Please. Come back to us. Let us help you.” Rhys had no idea how to help his friend, but he had to try. His heart broke for him.
Trystan let out an agonizing whimper as the shimmering ceased. Rhys breathed out an imperceptible sign of relief. The air losing its tension. “They killed her, Rhys. I was the target, and they killed her instead. Right in front of me.” His shoulders shook as sobs tore through him and he dropped to his knees.
Rhys met him on the ground, pulling his friend close. They sat in the mud, one warrior wrapped in the arms of the other, his grief seeping down his cheeks to the ground. Rhys didn't say a word, just bore the violent sobs as they wracked his friend's body. Talon, Bowen, and Amanda stayed, their backs turned, protecting the friends as they mourned. Eventually, the moon broke through the clouds again, bathing Trystan and Rhys in soft, healing, soothing light.
Sleeper (Rise of the Fianna Book 1) Page 4
