Protector of the Flame

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Protector of the Flame Page 25

by Isis Rushdan


  “A tiger almost attacked us tonight. Nikos or any of the others that…wish us ill might use this opportunity to harm you.”

  Sothis clasped a hand on Serenity’s shoulder as she helped her away from the bench. “No one here would harm her. Besides, I’m well equipped to handle a tiger, crazed monkey or band of Kindred that would seek to snuff out her flame. She’ll be safe with me and never out of my sight. I’ll even see her back to your room.”

  Reluctantly, Cyrus sat.

  Serenity hugged his shoulders and kissed him. “I’ll see you in the room.” She turned and walked away with her mother.

  The looks she received this time didn’t bother her as much, except for one.

  Adriel homed in on her gaze and held her attention with the twinkle in his eyes. His expression soured as his eyes fell from her face to her neck. His jaw tightened and his hands curled into fists. He glanced at Cyrus and then back at her.

  Dread gnawed at her and she shook her head at him not to cause trouble.

  “You would do best to look away from him. All eyes are upon you,” Sothis said casually, staring straight ahead.

  Serenity broke the lock from his eyes and faced forward, quickening her pace, but her mother gently touched her forearm with two fingers, keeping her own stride steady. She slowed to meet her mother’s leisurely gait.

  As her energy stream disconnected from Cyrus, she took a deep breath through the dizziness. Tendrils of her pool stretched behind her, demanding she return to him. Her core ached to reconnect to his until she could no longer sense him.

  A breeze refreshed her, clearing her mind of fogginess.

  Once in the garden, Serenity looked at her mother, prepared to beg for help, but Sothis said, “Not here.”

  They cleared the garden, headed toward the shore. Passing a meadow of tall grass and cattails, they entered a thicket of trees so close to the water she could hear the waves rolling in.

  “What did you need to discuss?” Sothis asked as they strayed from the path, weaving between the trees parallel to the shoreline.

  “The link binding me to Adriel can’t be broken. Neith said you might be able to give advice on how to manage it.”

  Sothis stopped and held her shoulders. Her hands were warm, her expression deepened into compassion. It was the closest thing to a hug she’d received. “Let him go.”

  Didn’t her mother hear or understand what she’d said? She couldn’t let Adriel go any more than she could a fallen star soldered to her core, to the very essence of her being. “I wish it were that simple.”

  “Our hearts are not as fragile as a human’s. We can endure unbearable pain and suffering. Adriel is a cancer eating away at your soul. Cut him out of your life. Scrape him from your heart.”

  Her mother’s words were tainted by whatever knowledge she had of Adriel’s kabashem, Evane. Adriel could do great harm, but he wasn’t a cancer. He was good and kind and stuck in this too. A victim of his own gift, in a far worse position because he didn’t have the love of a mate to help him through it.

  “I can’t. I don’t know how.” At least not while they were trapped on an island.

  “Well then,” Sothis said, turning to walk, “adherence to a few simple rules should get you through. Whenever Adriel enters a room, never notice him. When engaged in conversation, don’t maintain eye contact with him for longer than two seconds, and if Cyrus is present, dote on your kabashem’s every word, not Adriel’s.”

  Serenity listened intently, taking mental notes of the mistakes she’d already made.

  “Show Cyrus affection in Adriel’s presence.” Serenity went to speak, but Sothis continued, “More affection than usual. We are a territorial species and your mate is overly protective of you, which brings me to the last rule that can never be broken.”

  Her heart raced with anxiety.

  “You can never let Adriel touch you.”

  A nervous laugh grated her lips. “I thought you were going to say something outrageous. Trust me. I learned earlier today not to let him touch me.”

  “Not even in private. Adriel likes to express his…fondness for you with physical affection that you enjoy. This will get him killed. When he touches you, it alters your scent. Even if Cyrus doesn’t see it, he’ll smell him on you.”

  There was still much to learn about Kindred, but her misguided experiences with Adriel made her question the bit about her scent being altered.

  Her mother’s head whipped sharply to the right. She stared into the darkness back toward the meadow. Sothis darted past the trees, disappearing in the night without a word or making a sound.

  Footsteps, one person walked toward Serenity from the meadow. Carelessness in the weight of their step made the grass rustle, echoing in the air. A thud, as if someone hit the ground, followed by silence. A second later, Sothis emerged holding Adriel by the arm.

  “What are you doing?” Serenity asked him.

  “I had to see if you were all right.” His eyes lit up like stars.

  Sothis glanced around. “I’ll give you a moment, but Serenity—” her mother gave her a sharp look, “—it would be wise not to linger too long.” Then she faded into the darkness.

  “Did he hurt you?” Adriel reached out to touch her face.

  Serenity stepped away. “No, I’m fine.”

  Adriel drifted closer. “How dare he parade you around like this?” He tried to cup her cheek in his hands, but she backed up to a tree, using it as a barrier. “Why do you keep moving away from me?”

  “You can’t touch me.” She lowered her gaze. “Your scent will alter mine.”

  “Nonsense,” he said.

  It might be nonsense, but it would keep them both safe. The degree of physical affection they’d already shared had created this mess. She’d been so blind regarding Adriel, but not anymore.

  The susurrus of the wind combing the leaves carried with it a sense of foreboding, quickening her pulse. Branches and shrubs swayed in the breeze, and then the wind died as if caught in the eye of a storm. Grateful for the still moment to pick her words with care, the tide crashing on the beach behind them filled the night.

  “Are you okay?” She leaned against the tree. “I was worried. You hit your head pretty hard.”

  “I began to heal before I was off the floor. My cracked ribs have mended, but are still a little sore.” Inching toward her, he stared at her neck. “Does it hurt?”

  “It looks worse than it is.” She searched his perfect face, his eyes brimming with love, his forehead riddled with worry. She suppressed her urge to comfort him. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I have since this started. I let us get too comfortable and…I may have given you the wrong impression.”

  His shoulders stiffened and he squared his stance. “What impression would that be?”

  “You’re a dear brother, but we can’t ever be anything more.” Pressing her palm into the ridged bark of the palm tree, she looked down. “I’m sorry if I led you to believe otherwise. Cyrus is—”

  “Stop.” His voice was soft, yet resounded with a strength she’d never heard from him. When she glanced up, his gaze cut through her, peeling back the layers of her shallow defenses. “You’d never make a cuckold of Cyrus, nor would I ask you to.” He rested a forearm on the tree. “Once all of the record-keepers have returned, Neith plans to send them back out on a new assignment.”

  She tensed at the news. “So soon? They won’t have time to spend with their families.”

  “This is the first time she’s recalled all of them at once.”

  A chill licked her skin. “What’s she planning?”

  “I don’t know, but she asked me to leave with one of the teams.”

  Trying to hide her panic and failing miserably as her heart imploded, she put her forehead against the bark. “Are you leaving?” Her voice was a whisper.

  He closed the scant distance between them, testing boundaries. The heat fr
om his body brushed her skin, his warm breath on her face titillated down to the core. Oh how she wished he could turn off the gut-wrenching draw that made being near him such exquisite torture.

  “I overheard your conversation with Neith. Do you want me to go?”

  She couldn’t bear to look at him. He was on her side in this insane struggle to survive. She needed to rally as many supporters as she could. There were only a few she trusted with her life and he was one of them. Perhaps it was the unnatural tether or genuine friendship, but she didn’t want him to leave.

  Yet, there was no other way.

  “It’d be best if you went with the others.” A fist squeezed her heart at speaking the words and if she dared look at him, she’d cave. This was her chance to let him go, to be free of Adriel.

  “Best for whom?”

  She met his eyes. “For all of us, but especially you. I want you to be safe, Adriel. You should leave while you can.”

  His safety and well-being was only second to that of Cyrus.

  He shook his head slowly, a rueful smile on his lips as though the response disappointed him. “Dark days are ahead. It would be best if you had the greatest healer that has ever lived at your side.”

  “We have Carin.”

  A brittle laugh echoed. “I won’t tire like she will and my ability far exceeds what she’s capable of. I can bring someone back from the very brink of death. I’d say that’s a useful skill for what you’re about to face, especially in your condition.”

  Carin had saved her life when she almost bled out after being shot, but if there had been a minute delay, who was to say how it would’ve turned out.

  “I’ll take my chances with Carin. I won’t risk your life for mine.” No matter how important everyone thought she was.

  “What about Cyrus’s life?”

  She pushed off the tree and held his gaze.

  “Neith is preparing for a shitstorm to hit this island. If it does, many warriors will be hurt. Many will die, but I can help change that. Cyrus will fight with his last breath to protect you. If anything were to happen to him, I might be the only one who could save him.”

  Goose bumps raised the hair on her arms, her stomach tangled into knots. She turned from him. She didn’t want to risk losing either of them, but she couldn’t endure the loss of Cyrus. She’d rather be dead without him.

  Her vision swam in darkness and she reached out for the tree.

  Everything Adriel said was true. He was the most powerful healer alive and the day might soon come when Cyrus needed him most of all.

  Materializing from the shadows as though a part of the darkness, Sothis stood in front of them. “We should head back.” She turned to Adriel. “Wait here for ten minutes, and then go down to the beach.”

  “We agree?” Adriel said. “I’m staying.”

  Serenity gave an uncertain nod. “Keep your distance and tell your friends to back off.”

  Satisfaction oozed in Adriel’s smile. The fool. This gamble could cost him his life. If she had been a stronger person, a better person, she would’ve begged him to leave.

  Sothis took her by the wrist and led her at a clipped pace in a different direction from where they entered the thicket. Once they hit a well-worn path, they resumed a normal stride.

  They entered the garden, strolling toward the main building in silence.

  Sothis kept her head high, scanning their surroundings with keen vigilance.

  When they reached her dormitory sector, tendrils of her energy stream surged outward, struggling to connect to Cyrus. She stumbled from the force of it and her mother gave her a queer glance.

  They stopped in front of her room and Sothis kissed her once on each cheek.

  Serenity hugged her, holding her, waiting for a reciprocal embrace that didn’t come.

  Her mother pressed her lips against Serenity’s ear and in the faintest voice said, “Your mate won’t share. Think long upon this link. Then imagine the hold it’ll have in three hundred years if you allow Adriel to stay at your side.” With a pat to her back, Sothis pulled away. “I don’t wish to see you neck high in a quagmire of your own making. Be well.”

  Serenity mulled over her mother’s good advice. It would’ve been helpful, if she had the ability to focus on it, but she couldn’t envision tomorrow much less three hundred years down the road when she might not live long enough to see the New Year.

  Everything was out of kilter in this world where Christmas and birthdays weren’t celebrated. The holiday had come and gone, like Thanksgiving, without her even realizing it.

  Neith’s concern clearly rested with Abbadon and whether or not he could pull off his task while leaving the library’s neutrality intact. Until Abbadon succeeded and their lives spared, wasting time thinking of a future she might not ever have seemed pointless.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Cool air drifted in through the outlet of their bedroom, carrying the quiet sweetness of morning just before dawn. She loved this hour when the gossamer curtains rustled with the promise of a new day about to break, her kabashem’s warm body beside her.

  Serenity pressed her breasts against his back and nibbled his ear. Stroking his hair, she slid her leg in between his and caressed his shoulders, working her way down to his buttocks.

  He didn’t stir.

  Out of the twenty-one different workstations, he had rotated through twelve. Every night after they made love, he fell into a deep slumber until the first light of day. The only thing that managed to rouse him sooner was the cunning of her libido. A few strokes of his cock, which never failed to respond, and within minutes the rest of him would follow suit. But earlier this week he had taken to sleeping on his stomach.

  She coiled her fingers through his hair and tugged—not a peep from him. She shook him and tried to roll him over, but one could no more nudge a mountain than flip it.

  Climbing out of bed, she pulled the sheet from his body. “Lights dim.” The room brightened enough for her to see well. Opening her drawing pad, she finished the sketch of him she started after he fell asleep. She used charcoal along the outline, smudging it to soften the curves of his buttocks and shoulders. She tore it from the pad and taped it to the wall alongside the others she’d drawn in the middle of her sleepless nights.

  The idea came as a means of covering the damage to the wall and a way to occupy the nights as he slept more and her less. She hadn’t asked Neith about having the wall fixed out of fear Cyrus’s work details would be altered yet again to accommodate the request.

  If she could ever finish Neith’s portrait, she’d be able to begin painting her sketches and add much needed color to the room.

  In the bathroom, she gathered her things to shower. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror and trailed the love bites on her neck and chest. It’d been over a month since the incident with Adriel. Cyrus hadn’t spoken of it since, yet every night he put fresh purple marks on her body like a dog pissing on a tree.

  She headed for the showers. Midway down the corridor, she reached the threshold of her connection with Cyrus and braced for detachment. Her energy pool bubbled and gushed, insatiable tentacles of her stream thrashed, stretching for his. Dizzy from the swirl of energy in her head and core, she hurried away, running her hand along the wall to steady her until she could no longer feel him.

  Her energy stream churned, slowly settling back into its usual flow. Once the dizziness faded, she resumed a normal pace.

  The halls were empty, quiet at this hour. One or two showers ran in the open bay and she made her way outside. She’d never seen a sentinel while she showered, but she didn’t doubt at least one of them had a view of that part of the building.

  After she dressed, she pulled her wet hair into a thick ponytail. As she walked around the railing under the dome where all the sectors converged, a figure at the end of sector four stood out against the brightening backdrop of the fresh air outlet.

  It was a male leaving Neith’s room. He locked the
door and began to leave the sector headed in her direction.

  Serenity wrapped her towel around her neck, waiting for his face to come into the light. When he cleared the shadows of the hall and entered the burgeoning daylight from the dome, her jaw dropped to see Soren.

  He approached her carrying an electronic tablet. “It’s good I’ve run into you,” he said, without any shame. “Neith will be away for the day and wants you to make the rounds. She’ll expect a full report at evening meal and has instructed you use her office as if it were your own.”

  “Neith is putting me in charge?”

  “For the day,” he clarified and handed her the tablet.

  She paged through the screens, glancing at a list of the workstations with space to type in comments. “Where is she?”

  “Attending to business elsewhere.”

  Tightening her grip on the tablet, she said, “What were you doing in her room?”

  “Ask Neith. If she wants you to know, she’ll tell you.”

  Her jaw tightened. “Does Mira know you visit Neith’s bedchamber?”

  His expression remained light, unguarded. “My kabashem is aware of the full scope of my duties.”

  Shaking her head, she walked away. Her opinion of Neith diminished at the thought of her being a dirty old woman seducing taken men, but it also satisfied her to know the ancient beauty had urges she was too weak to resist.

  “Neith also wants an update on your mother’s team,” Soren said. She turned to face him. “They’ll finish up their pre-dawn training by the docks if you want to catch her this morning before they eat. Otherwise, I believe they’ll be down at the quarry.”

  “Thank you.”

  He bowed his head and went down to the first level.

  She returned to her room and rested her head against the door, waiting for her stream to fully merge with Cyrus’s.

  Inside, he sat on the bed, his shoulders slumped forward. Yawning, he rose and staggered toward the bathroom.

  “How do you feel this morning?”

  He grumbled something indiscernible and shut the door.

  She stripped the sheets and put them along with their other dirty items in a pile at the foot of the bed.

 

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