by Lisa Rector
I don’t think I’ll ever be settled into my role as king, but I shouldn’t place the rest of my life on hold either.
For a change of pace, they flew toward the southern coast, where a couple of great sea towns spotted the area. Soothing beaches were a welcome sight, in contrast to the harsh currents and the cold, bracing waters of the north. Smooth rounded cliff faces more or less melted into the sea.
How do you think love feels? Einion asked.
I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve ever been in love. Wouldn’t you know if you were? I’ve tried with the lady wings. No luck.
That’s the problem. If you’ve been friends with someone your whole life, how do you tell when you’ve crossed that line?
I can assume you’re talking about Catrin, Trahaearn said.
How do I differentiate between lust and love?
Maybe you can’t.
You know I feel like an idiot, right? Einion asked.
Yes. Trahaearn laughed. Well, think of it this way. You find them attractive. There is no doubt you have physically desired them at one point or another. So don’t think of it that way. Who do you trust more? Who would you want to come home to every day of your life?
Hold it right there. I have come home to both of them, in a manner of speaking. They have both been there when I needed them. That’s not helping.
Wasn’t Rhianu’s trust the one attribute he had considered before? Einion trusted her now—completely. She’d proven herself as his friend. A problem arose only when she stirred up dark feelings inside him, and that hadn’t happened for a while. Was his control growing stronger? Maybe he could keep the internal scale in his heart-center tipped toward the light.
Very well, but Rhianu has this unknown history and dark past. Do you want to become involved with that?
I don’t know. Let’s lay this aside for now. It’s giving me a headache.
I say let the friendship unfold and see what happens. You’re here with Rhianu, and Catrin is conveniently absent. If you have an impulse to pursue Rhianu, you shouldn’t feel guilty. You have plenty of time to decide.
You’re right. I have endless years. No hurry. No reason to decide on my soul mate now.
Right.
Einion pondered Trahaearn’s words. Maybe he couldn’t comprehend the difference between lust and love, but he had to figure something out. He thought of his father’s journal, a permanent resident on his bedside table. He would flip through the entries, again, tonight.
With that, Einion decided to focus on spending time with Trahaearn, the one influence that was not confusing and did not stir up awkward feelings of longing and desire. Thank the Light for that.
CHAPTER TWENTY
BIG MISTAKE
From the window in the sunlit hall, Rhianu watched the men in the training yard. This was one of her favorite spots in the palace. The evening sun cast ribbons across the room, causing a blinding glare, which could be avoided by looking down into the yard where the men sparred. Rhianu didn’t mind the view of the men sweating in the remaining day’s heat as they played out their aggressions in mock combat. Rhianu closed her eyes against the sun, enjoying the last warm rays as night descended.
She turned her attention to the men. Most were mortals, but a few were emrys. Einion was among them. He had entered the training yard, carrying a staff. One of the emrys stepped forward to challenge him, and they began their dance. The flickering torchlight gave their faces a menacing glow. Rhianu smiled though. She could sense the fun and camaraderie the men had for each other.
Einion and his partner moved with whirling grace. Their staffs whistled through the air and rapped against each other. Occasionally one combatant would smack or jab the other, and at times, the two men pushed the staffs against each other, leaning together. Matched evenly in strength, they dueled for minutes that stretched ever longer. Watching them filled Rhianu with exhilaration.
The men halted their sport to strip off their sweaty, drenched shirts. Beads of sweat glistened across their bodies, and they began again. They ranged all over as they moved across the yard. Einion found an opening and, with one sweep, knocked his sparring mate off his feet.
Rhianu gasped—not because of the raw, masculine energy the men displayed and their power and agility, but because she recognized the command behind each strike and the familiar movements of the staff. Rhianu let go of the window ledge she found herself gripping before she turned and ran down the hallway.
Einion was drinking from a water skin but paused and wiped the sweat off his face as Rhianu entered the yard. Many men turned to greet her as she strode over to Einion. With water dripping down his chin, he smiled at her as he lowered the skin.
“Rhianu, what are you doing?” Einion asked.
She fixed her gaze on him. “I remembered something.” Rhianu stretched out her hand to a man holding a staff and waited for him to respond. The thrill grew inside her. This I can do. “Staff.” She shook her arm at him.
“You’re going to fight me in front of this group of men?” Einion asked.
Rhianu knew he remembered her skill with his blade.
She nodded.
“In your dress?” Amusement covered his face.
Some of the men snickered.
Rhianu sighed, walked up to a man wearing a knife on his belt, and grabbed it without asking. She slit the seam in her dress and cut the lower half off up to her knees. She balled up the bottom piece and tossed it to the man, hitting him in the face.
Voices called a taunt to Einion. “Think you can take her, Your Majesty?” “Don’t hurt her.” “Go easy on her.” “Oh, you’re in trouble.”
They didn’t know of her skill. This will give them something to talk about. Rhianu smirked.
“Very well,” Einion said, still out of breath from his prior combat.
Someone tossed a staff to Rhianu, and she caught it in the air. Many exclaimed amazement. Rhianu noticed Einion’s heavy breathing. “My lord Einion needs to borrow some light. It has to be an even match.”
“Really, Rhianu?” Einion asked.
“Really.” Rhianu hoped he heard the challenge in her voice.
One of the emrys stepped forward to his liege and placed his hand upon Einion’s arm. A stream of light was visible to only the emrys watching, but everyone saw the vitality Einion picked up.
Staffs held at the ready, they began. They started with the same dance, circling each other, measuring one another’s every step. Rhianu hoped Einion wouldn’t go easy on her for the sake of her dignity. She would show him no leniency.
Rhianu moved with a measured strike, first to test his aptitude. Einion causally absorbed the blow with his staff. The men called in encouragement.
And the fight really began.
The light’s energy flowed through her and into her staff as an extension of her body. The wooden rods sang their song as they rhythmically clashed against each other. Around the courtyard, the pair stepped.
Einion relaxed his stance, and Rhianu made the first blow. She knew it—he let his guard down on purpose.
Rhianu snarled, well into the emotion of the game. “Don’t take it easy on me, Your Majesty.”
She knew how she must look, and it gave her pride. Rhianu, the strong warrior, fighting a king, a half-emrys nearly as strong as she was. The thought gave her ferocity. She felt bold and dangerous. As her strikes became more forceful, she laughed.
Einion struck a blow to her thigh. He winced as if he felt the pain. Rhianu limped to the side but recovered quickly.
“Sorry,” he exclaimed.
Annoyed with his compassion, Rhianu said, “No mercy.” She found an opening and jabbed Einion in the shoulder.
He staggered back but regained his balance. Rhianu whirled her staff overhead and cracked it against Einion’s ribs. She heard the crunch of bone. Yes! A sure hit.
Einion responded the way she desired. His pain sent a momentary fury into him, fueling his attacks. He would fight without hesitation now. G
rimacing, but with a decisive aim, he knocked her off her feet. Rhianu fell hard, landing on her back, her staff knocked a few inches from her outstretched fingers. Einion straddled her and pinned her with his staff.
“No mercy, Rhianu.” Einion grinned at her with a wickedness she had never seen in him.
She could feel his dark energy, which had emerged in vehemence when she broke his rib. Sweat poured off his face and dripped into hers. Rhianu grinned back at him, seeing a sinister glint in his eyes. She felt it as well inside her mind. This little mockery was dangerous play for two half-emrys, and they had both felt the change. They had started with the light, and when the fray became intense, their powers shifted. The two powers could be used, but not at the same time. Had Rhianu ever known this? Had she ever used both before becoming a Dark Emrys?
Einion pressed down on her, the staff pinned against her chest. She pushed with one hand while feeling for her weapon with her free one.
One of the men yelled, “My lord!” He moved closer, afraid Einion was going to hurt her.
She had it! Fingers clasped her staff, and she raised it, landing a blow on his back. Einion collapsed with an oath, but she rolled his body away before his weight crushed her. Scrambling to her feet, Rhianu kicked his staff aside. Einion lay on his back as she stood above him with the end of her staff against his heart, forcing him down.
Clapping broke out around them, men cheering for the lady’s triumph. Rhianu didn’t move until Einion’s head fell back in defeat. Ready to gloat, she relaxed her stance, but Einion yanked the staff from her grasp, tossing it aside. Caught off balance by his bold move, Rhianu fell on top of him, but to his detriment—she landed on his broken rib, and he groaned.
Sitting with her thighs around his midsection, Rhianu pushed herself up to look into Einion’s face. She was about to open her mouth and gloat when Einion reached his hands up roughly into her hair and pulled her mouth to his. His forcible kiss bit into her with hunger. Tasting his sweat, she pulled away, and before she could register the horror on his face at what he had done, she struck on instinct.
A red handprint formed on Einion’s face along with a shocked expression. Rhianu’s hands flew to her mouth with the revulsion of what she had done. Before Einion or anyone else reacted, Rhianu jumped to her feet and ran as fast as she could.
Traitorous tears spilled down her cheeks before Rhianu made it to the palace doors. She ran blindly down the hall, seeking refuge somewhere. Einion called her name. Soon he would round the corner and find her.
But she couldn’t face him.
Aerona!
I’m already on my way.
Rhianu kept running until she came to an upper hallway. She stopped a few feet away from a pair of balcony doors. What have I done? Will Einion ever forgive me? He had almost caught up with her. She pushed the doors open and waited. They would reach her at the same time.
Einion spoke first, but she didn’t turn around.
“Forgive me,” he simply said, hurt in his voice. He had stopped mere feet from her, but it could have been a chasm. She would have rather fallen into his arms and begged him for forgiveness, but Deian only knew what feelings would pass between them if she did.
Rhianu turned and gave him one sorrowful glance. Did he not see that she was the one at fault? Was Einion so selfless as to deny her role and carry the blame himself? When he replayed the scene, he would know she had been the one to coax out his darkness, and he would hate her. “There’s nothing to forgive.” She stepped up onto the stone ledge. Forgive me.
She flung herself into the air.
“Rhianu!” Einion lunged for her, but his fingers closed on nothing.
Aerona met her in time, and Rhianu landed in the saddle. Einion called after her again. The way he said her name struck true like an arrow to her heart-center. Tears blinding her flight, Rhianu leaned forward in the saddle, pressed herself to her dragon’s body, and cried.
***
Einion watched Rhianu leave as Aerona grew smaller in the distance. He didn’t go after her. What did I do? He braced his side with his hand. His rib would heal. The bone fragments already smoothed over, but his body shook violently. How could I have kissed her like that? Dark impulses and a lusty fervor had come over him. Moron! His actions sickened him. He brought his hand to his mouth and bit down on the side of his index finger, stifling a string of curses that entered his mind.
Einion, you’ll have to forgive yourself. What’s done is done.
Oh, Trahaearn, I made a huge mistake. He held his hands out and looked at the ceaseless shaking. Something happened. I couldn’t prevent it. I felt this rage and power unleash, and it was magnified by the same waves coming off Rhianu. Then I kissed her! I felt so hungry—so greedy for a taste of her.
The darkness rose in you, my brother. This has been building for some time, and it exploded out of you.
But why now? It had been so long since that morning in Eilian when he wanted to possess Rhianu. Einion let out a savage roar and punched the stone wall in front of himself. Pain shot through his hand, and he slumped to the floor, knowing his hand was broken. He rested lifeless against the wall, his ruined hand limp on the floor.
He could not allow this darkness to surface inside. He was wrong to ignore the warnings. If this were what feelings for a woman caused, he would have to stop it. I cannot love Catrin, and I’ll ignore every tender feeling I’ve ever had for Rhianu.
But you like her. You LIKE her, Trahaearn said.
I can’t. I’m afraid. Since coming to the mortal world, I’ve learned too much about the darkness. It moves like a shadow inside me. I can’t bridge the gap between lust and love. So far my feelings haven’t emerged the way I want them to. I’m overcome by my carnal desires. I’m too weak.
No, Einion. No, you’re not. True love brings light. If you really care for Rhianu, then the light will overcome the lust.
I’ve made up my mind, Trahaearn.
It’s the beguiling of Cysgod that makes you feel this way. You’re a good person.
It’s too risky. I’m sorry.
Einion allowed himself to fall on his side, tears flowing with regret and remorse. He lay there until he passed out, his light’s energy consumed with healing his broken hand but not his heart.
***
Aerona, I don’t know what happened. Rhianu cried. Probing fingers reached deep into her throbbing brain.
I do. Are you that naïve? You fell for him—you fell in love with him.
What? Her stomach turned, the nausea amplified by the headache. Why does that feel wrong?
Must I remind you? You swore never to fall in love with anyone. You slapped him out of habit or reflex. You never let anyone take advantage of you.
Is that what you think I was doing? Allowing him to take advantage of me?
No, this was different. You felt it. You felt your dark power emerge. You remembered how it felt. Einion tapped into that when you cracked him in the ribs. Awesome maneuver by the way.
Thank you. The sparring terrified me, yet I enjoyed it. I don’t know how to describe it.
You don’t have to, Aerona said.
They flew in a northeasterly direction. The tail end of the northern mountain range loomed close.
Where to now? Aerona asked.
I don’t know. Land anywhere for tonight. I don’t care. Throw me under a bush if you must.
It’ll be all right, Rhianu. Perhaps love is not the worst outcome in the world.
That does not make me feel better. Love is weakness. I remember saying that. You’re right.
But you love him! You can’t deny that.
When did you become sympathetic to love? Rhianu asked.
I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I feel your love for him. You forget—my heart follows your heart. Even when you don’t realize it, my reaction is usually what your heart is trying to tell you. I feel your heart. That’s why dragons become dark. They follow their dark riders. We emulate what you are.
So your heart is changing because you already feel what I’m too stubborn to acknowledge?
Yes, my sister.
Oh, Aerona. What am I to do?
About midnight, they landed in a clearing with some rangy, little shrubs. Rhianu scoffed at the stars mocking her with their happy, silvery light. Aerona curled up and made a place for Rhianu to lie in her arms. Weary emotions made sleep come swiftly.
But Rhianu knew rest for the pained soul would not come freely. Rest for the Master’s vessel would not come without a price.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
FOR FORGIVENESS
Are you going to desert me, Rhianu? You have been my stalwart servant for ages. You cannot rest. Your objective is not complete. The young king is right where you need him.
Who are you?
Don’t you remember me, my most precious? You have fought for me and bled for me. You have done my desire willingly. Remember the power and the victories I gave you. Remember how it all felt. You were marvelous.
Memories flooded back into Rhianu with a dizzying commotion. The blood, the screams, the deaths. Her triumphs. The most recent memories unfolded before the earlier ones. Ghastly images of her victories surrendered to pictures from her youth. Her father’s smile, her mother’s touch, Meuric’s laugh.
Rhianu knew who she was. Every. Single. Moment. Every feeling, every emotion. By taking the essence of the Dark Master into herself and becoming the Vessel, she had grown from an innocent child into a power-hungry woman who men feared. She killed and dominated and conquered. Rhianu could do anything. Now that she remembered, now that she knew who she was, she felt pride for all her miserably delightful deeds.
Caedryn’s betrayal assaulted her. With the recall of his touch and his slimy lies and his deception came the vile feeling of being an ineffectual, powerless wretch!
And if that wasn’t enough to shatter her spirit, the Dark Master unveiled one final revelation. Rhianu learned the odious truth about the moment she lost her memories during the lightning strike. He had taken them away. He had blocked the images from her and had used her for his amusement. Any pride she felt at being her master’s servant left as soon as it returned. Revulsion filled Rhianu. She had been prized. She was his. She had done everything for him. Bled for him. Burned for him. Denied herself for him.
