Chronicles of the Half-Emrys Box Set (Books 1-3)

by Lisa Rector

  Aneirin jerked away and gasped. He lacked the skill to heal her from a dream this tortured. It took years of practice. He rolled away from Ahnalyn, clutching a stomach tied up in knots. His body trembled as a wave of grief passed over him—grief from Ahnalyn’s nightmare. He should have known better. Using his light in such a way took a physical and emotional toll, and he was unprepared for it.

  When the weakness subsided, Aneirin stretched his arms over his head. He had unknowingly passed out. He did a quick scan of his injuries. The light inside him was healing his body, but it would require more time. A couple more hours and his head should be fine. Aneirin hoped he had enough strength to break the barrier. It would take every effort he had if he was in his top condition, which he was not.

  Ahnalyn breathed peacefully beside him. Caedryn must have manipulated her memories when he touched her forehead to cause her to have such tormented dreams. The dream he’d witnessed was so far from what had actually happened. She was weakening and crumbling. Aneirin wanted to push his light into her and make the darkness leave, let her feel the peace that came from the light, but he didn’t have any to spare, not if they wanted to make a prison break.

  He had originally thought Ahnalyn’s minuscule amount of light might be enough, combined with his, to break the barrier and free Seren. Now, Ahnalyn would be useless. The light in her, which had been growing from the happiness of her son’s birth, was rapidly disappearing. It grew scarcer the more she cried out in her sleep. Caedryn was destroying her! Some father. What kind of man would twist his child’s mind to make her in his own freakish image? His further resolve to crush Caedryn flared inside.

  But his seething would inhibit his light’s growth. Aneirin pushed the anger aside and focused on the light instead. He could multiply it with the right mind-set. He pushed the light to the outer limits of his body, willing it into his head where the pain still throbbed, rousing every ounce of his light. He would fight for Ahnalyn. When did I become so protective of her? He would break them out of this cave, and he would stop Caedryn before he hurt Ahnalyn anymore.

  Aneirin looked over at her. He thought of the night they stood in the moonlight on the deck, of her body shining with light, and of the feelings she roused in him. He had seen the moon illuminating her skin and giving her the appearance of an emrys glowing from within. Ahnalyn could be radiant. She will be radiant, and she is beautiful. The most incredible woman he’d ever envisioned. And eruptive and fierce and headstrong. Ahnalyn had untapped potential. She just needed to understand who she was. Her loyalty to her father, husband, and son could translate into such compassion and unending love. Ahnalyn was young, just beginning her immortality. Aneirin could see all she might attain if given the chance. Her light would shine brightly.

  His awareness registered on the thudding in his chest, so vigorous, he thought it would wake Ahnalyn. Cephias would say, Settle down, you’re keeping me awake, if they still had their dragon stones.

  Aneirin rolled closer to Ahnalyn and traced his fingers across her forehead and down her cheek. Her face moved with a slight twitch. “Shh,” he whispered and leaned in and pressed his lips softly to her brow. He pulled back. What am I doing? His breathing became erratic, matching his forcible heartbeat in magnitude. I feel so strange.

  The throbbing of his injured head came to an abrupt halt.

  Ahnalyn stirred, fluttering her lashes. Her brows lifted in confusion as her eyes met his.

  And Aneirin understood. He was glowing, filling the tiny space around them with pale pink light.

  Ahnalyn reached over, touched his face, and whispered, “You’re glowing.”

  Aneirin pressed her hand against his cheek and mumbled. “I…”

  He couldn’t register a thought. Master of Light, he had a sudden understanding of how Niawen felt and why she was crushed when he couldn’t reciprocate the feelings. His heart blistered within him, and his light stretched through every fiber of his being, yearning to be released. What is she doing to me? He tried to catch his breath. It’s so powerful. If he didn’t release this fervent emotion, he feared he’d ignite on the spot.

  Aneirin stood and pulled Ahnalyn to standing with him. He lifted her chin and brought her eyes to meet his gaze. He was going to say it—forget the repercussions.

  “I love you.”

  Without waiting for Ahnalyn to reply or even register this fact, Aneirin took her hand and led her over to the barrier. He stood behind her and lifted her arms to the invisible boundary. Aneirin placed his hands over hers with their arms touching, her back against his chest, and his cheek to hers—much like the day when he held her while she delivered her son.

  Breathe, Aneirin. Focus. Her cold skin burned him like fire.

  Aneirin could feel the energy, moving before them, which was strong enough that Caedryn could leave without his presence to sustain it. The energy constantly turned and swirled in on itself while increasing in intensity and spreading out to the edges of the cave’s mouth. It pushed against their touch—the negative pressure fighting the positive.

  His intuition guided him. The barrier needed to be nullified—cancelled with an influx of light. Aneirin didn’t know how he knew, but it would work.

  Empowered by his new feelings and the contact from Ahnalyn, despite her shadowy countenance from Caedryn’s damage, Aneirin began. His light was already pushed to the outer limits of his body, aching to be released. It surged right through Ahnalyn, and she moaned, her knees quivering, but Aneirin supported her. The force was too powerful for her, but he needed Ahnalyn. He needed her touch. He wanted to touch her.

  Her skin gleamed for an instant, but the light kept moving into the barrier. Aneirin pushed all the light he could spare into the dark energy, watching the light creep up and out like spilled water. Aneirin pushed harder, the glow fading from his body as more light infused the invisible curtain. The barrier started to break up as the swirling energy flecked with patchy holes.

  I love her. Aneirin understood completely. He now knew what it felt like to love. The emotion was more intense than any secondary perception from another. Love would beat the darkness. Love would crumble the barrier and set them free. His light flared again, sending more power out. Aneirin would give anything to save Ahnalyn. In this moment, she had become his everything.

  The last speck fizzled, and the barrier dropped. Ahnalyn pitched forward out of the cave, but Aneirin grabbed her arm, saving her from falling to her knees, and curled her into his embrace. Her chest heaved as though she’d done a sprint.

  Aneirin wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead. “I did it.” He gasped. “I broke the barrier because my feelings for you energized my light.” Please don’t let her panic. “I couldn’t control how fast it developed. I told you I needed you to help free Seren.”

  He laughed. She was a vision, and she stood there doe eyed and willowy with a honey-crisp tint on her cheeks. She didn’t appear perturbed, so he kept on blabbering. “Ahnalyn, I’ve never felt like this before! I’m in love with you!”

  Ahnalyn’s coloring deepened at Aneirin’s declaration, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she flung her arms around Aneirin’s neck and squeezed him.

  Aneirin wrapped his arms entirely around her and pressed his hands into her back.

  “Ahem.” Cephias cleared his throat. He and Seren waited, ready to fly, flexing their wings out in the open.

  “Let’s fly out of here before evil shows its face,” Cephias said.

  Aneirin pulled a rather stunned Ahnalyn toward Cephias. “I agree, let’s fly.”

  Aneirin couldn’t stop grinning like a fool. He was still glowing. They climbed onto Cephias, and he and Seren lifted off and flew away from the rising sun.

  PART II

  TRUTH

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  DREAM AND PROPHECY

  Ahnalyn’s hair fluttered in the wind’s fingers, so Aneirin twisted it out of his face. The rush of air wrapped the pair together, and Aneirin relished the feel of Ahnalyn, her sle
nder arms touching him and her petite frame leaning against his chest. His arms encircled her waist as if she were his own.

  He knew she wasn’t—Ahnalyn was nowhere near healed enough to give her heart to him.

  But what Aneirin had accomplished, tearing apart the barrier because of his influx of light, because of his feelings for Ahnalyn and the strength it gave him, was a feat in itself.

  Aneirin now understood what Niawen had gone through. Sensing her feelings and knowing she loved him was different from being in love himself. Now Aneirin knew what love was. It filled his entire being, his heart and mind. He couldn’t deny or hide his feelings. He wished he could have been more sympathetic when Niawen bared her soul to him. His misunderstanding at the time was to his shame.

  Because of what she was going through, Ahnalyn couldn’t reciprocate the same feelings, and Aneirin accepted this. He couldn’t force someone to love him. He knew this. Love took time. And Ahnalyn was hurting. Aneirin would wait, and he would protect her.

  Caedryn had that correct. Her protector—this, he swore to himself, he would be.

  Aneirin wanted Ahnalyn safe and away from Lord Caedryn. Once Ahnalyn retrieved her son, they would fly to the dragon realm. Caedryn could never touch her there, not without a dragon. The entrance was high in the Eirwen Mountains. The icy precipice was impossible to scale—by a man or a half-emrys without a dragon.

  Usually in times like this, Aneirin could count on his dragon brother to be reading his thoughts and talking him through them. But his mind was too quiet. Right now, Cephias would be teasing him about Ahnalyn. Aneirin imagined the feedback. See, didn’t I tell you? I knew it. You love her!

  Aneirin would do anything to recover his dragon stone and restore the connection. Cephias had become a part of Aneirin these long years together, and losing the bond was like missing a major appendage—his best appendage.

  Ahnalyn hadn’t even had a chance to fly on Seren. It wasn’t right for Seren to be reunited with her rider and then to lose the connection that was so vital—vital because the connection was what prolonged the life of the dragon. Through the light’s life force in the emrys, connected to the stone, the dragons were immortal as well. Without it, they aged. Slowly, but they aged nonetheless.

  Caedryn had to know this since he was half-emrys. Aneirin feared what Caedryn might do with the dragon stones. Knowing about the connection, did he know what would happen if a dragon’s stone was destroyed?

  Aneirin glanced at Seren flying alongside her mate. Her scales caught the sun and emphasized her radiance. The way she stretched her wings and hugged the wind proved that she was glad to be in the air again, out of her cramped prison.

  Her saddle had been taken off while she was captive, and because of the spiny ridge that ran down the backs of most dragons, riding with a saddle was preferable, definitely more comfortable.

  A smile spread across Aneirin’s face. Ahnalyn would fly on Cephias the entire trip to Gorlassar, for many long hours, in his arms. Aneirin closed his eyes and squeezed Ahnalyn, nosing in her hair and enjoying the moment.

  “Aneirin,” Cephias called over the wind.

  “Yes, Cephias.”

  “We’ll drop you off with the Eilian and then go hunting. Seren’s starving. Why don’t we pick you up in the morning?”

  Aneirin laughed. “You mean you’re starving.”

  “Uh, yes. You know me. Dragon stone or not,” Cephias said.

  Aneirin leaned over and patted Cephias. “Easy, Brother. We’ll recover the stones. I promise.”

  It was nearing nightfall, and Aneirin desired a good night’s sleep and, not to mention, a decent meal. It had been almost a day since they’d eaten, and Aneirin’s stomach growled in anticipation of the hot food Emlyn would have.

  “Sounds like a plan,” Aneirin said, answering Cephias’s initial question. “Sounds like a plan.”

  ***

  They were back on the ground (or in the tree rather), with a hearty meal in their stomachs and a cozy fire to chase away the gloom. Emlyn and Hadyn sat in their overstuffed armchairs: Hadyn, smoking his pipe and for once silent, and Emlyn, working on a needlework piece while prattling on about everything Einion did in their absence. Ahnalyn sat on her fur pallet holding Einion and cooing to him. Aneirin sat opposite the fire from Ahnalyn with his knees drawn up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them.

  It was as if nothing horrible had ever happened and life was grand.

  From the edge of her sight line, Ahnalyn could see Aneirin’s eyes on her. His skin still held a slight luminescence, more evident in the dim light. Evidence of his prior affirmation of love.

  Ahnalyn tried her best to ignore Aneirin and turned her attention to Einion. She traced her finger down Einion’s scooping nose and over his squishy cheeks. Ignore him. Ignore him.

  She recalled the initial flight to retrieve Seren and how she’d snuggled up to Aneirin. What was she thinking? Why’d she let her guard down? And he still stared at her!

  Thoughts plagued the back of her mind, far worse than Aneirin’s unyielding stare. She couldn’t forget the events that happened in the cave. Nor could she hide from her own nightmares, not when they were inside her. Ahnalyn feared even Einion’s cherubic face wouldn’t chase them away.

  She’d have to go to sleep soon. What horrifying nightmare will engage me this time? She sat before the fire holding Einion for as long as she could postpone the inevitable, but her eyelids weighed heavily.

  Shortly, Emlyn yawned loudly and tottered off to bed, followed by Hadyn after an impatient nudge from Emlyn.

  His brow now furrowed, Aneirin still watched Ahnalyn. Apparently he was in deep thought, ready to speak, his mouth slightly parted. She wouldn’t doubt if Aneirin was gauging a good feel for her emotions.

  Doesn’t he know that’s annoying?

  Worried it might be about his declaration, Ahnalyn braced herself for what Aneirin was going to say.

  He stood and leaned over Ahnalyn, reaching out as if to take Einion. “You’ll have to sleep sometime. You need rest.”

  Aneirin tried to pry Einion from Ahnalyn, but she resisted.

  “Ahnalyn, let me lay him down. Trust me.”

  I’ve heard that one before. Even so, Ahnalyn sighed and reluctantly gave up Einion. Too tired to fight anymore, her arms fell slack.

  Silently, Aneirin crossed over to the cradle, kissed Einion on the top of his head, and lovingly laid him down as he muttered words in Emryn.

  He came over to Ahnalyn.

  “You won’t have bad dreams tonight. I promise.” Aneirin slid beside Ahnalyn on her pallet and wrapped his elbow around his bent knee.

  His straight brows were smooth, and his pale lips drawn in a tight line. Silvery blond hair looked golden in the fire glow and dangled straight over his shoulders behind his ears. His jade eyes reflected dancing flames in their centers. Flawless skin had been cleaned and healed since his injury in the cave. Faint cheekbones were visible, attempting to make him look serious, but Aneirin was more youthful and carefree—if he didn’t have that one crease of worry across his forehead.

  Aneirin waited, gazing back at her while the uncomfortable silence stretched on. He shocked her when he leaned in, resting his chin on her shoulder, and whispered in her ear. “I won’t hurt you.”

  His breath nagged her ear. Ahnalyn turned her head away, shrugging him off.

  “You’re sly,” Ahnalyn mouthed carefully.

  He leaned back, jerking his head. “I am not.” In spite of his retort, Aneirin flashed a devilish grin.

  Quick, before she could stop him, his fingers found her waist, and he started tickling her. She pushed at him and tried to pry him off, but she fell back on the pallet, gripping her sides, protecting them.

  “Stop! Stop!” she gasped. “It’s too much.” Ahnalyn attempted to roll away from him, but he didn’t relent.

  “Sly, sly… Who is sly?” His long hair fell over his shoulder, into Ahnalyn’s face, and itched her nose.

&nb
sp; Emlyn sat up in bed across the room. “Shh!” she whispered loudly and plopped back down.

  Aneirin stopped tickling Ahnalyn and burst out laughing. He rolled onto his stomach and buried his face in the blankets to stifle the sound.

  Having recovered from the contact, Ahnalyn jabbed him in the ribs. Aneirin rolled over, and in one swift movement, pulled her against himself.

  Ahnalyn let out a startled, “Oh!”

  He wouldn’t let go.

  She pawed at his chest briefly but gave up. His grip was too firm and iron vicelike. Her head lay on Aneirin’s chest with the loud thump of his heartbeat in her ear. Too tired to care any longer, Ahnalyn stopped resisting, cursing her weakness.

  His grip relaxed, and his fingers trailed down her hair and twisted in her locks, soothing her pounding blood beat.

  “Now I’ll chase those nightmares away, and you are going to sleep,” Aneirin whispered.

  If Ahnalyn didn’t know what an emrys was, she would have sworn his touch was magic.

  ***

  Aneirin concentrated on his light, expanding it in his heart until he pushed it through his chest into Ahnalyn, right into her head, which was lying against his heart, and right into her mind. Whereas he was too weak before, and despite his lack of training, he found that he could do this. He could heal her subconscious and give her peace. Aneirin focused the light into the farthest recesses of her memories, chasing out Caedryn’s darkness. Ahnalyn would sleep well tonight.

  A song his mother sang to him as a child, to chase away frightening dreams, came to mind. He sang the words to Ahnalyn. This will work, and I can hold her the entire night. He couldn’t help but think about her soft body practically on top of his. He closed his eyes and ran his fingers over her back. He still glowed faintly, unable to contain how pleased he was. Must fall asleep… before morning.