by Meg Anne
“Tell. Me.” Helena’s teeth were gritted; she could feel her magic waking inside her, responding to the uncertainty and need to protect coiling within. Whatever rumor Gillian had to share, Helena knew it was tied to Von’s colorful past. He had more than admitted he was not proud of who he had been before he met her. She couldn’t believe they would still be so foolish to whisper such insults after all he had done to protect them. She wanted to hear what others were still saying so that she could put an end to it once and for all.
“Kiri,” the word was a whimper.
“Now!” Helena shouted, lightning flashing in the sky as thunder growled in the distance.
“Helena?” the concerned voice asked in her mind, feeling her loss of control.
“It’s just, one of the girls at the Palace. She had mentioned...” Gillian seemed to pale as she watched Helena transform as her magic took over. Those swirling eyes pinning the girl in place.
Helena did not speak, her silence a clear instruction.
“The girl had mentioned how Von singled her out to pleasure him. The night of your ball. She had been bragging about how she had ridden one of the Damaskiri’s stallions because she was more of a woman than you, despite all you stood to inherit.”
Helena saw red. There was a sharp pain in her hands as her fingers, no not fingers, claws, punctured the flesh of her palm. Where her nails had once been jet black claws, very similar to the Talyrian’s, now jutted out of her fingers. Helena let out a low hiss as visions of Von smirking while thrusting into another woman surfaced in her mind. The images from the trial were coming true. The wind howled, and around her a tempest raged, her hurt and anger fueling the storm.
“Helena!” Von shouted, running from their camp to her side. Seconds behind him the rest of the Circle followed.
She turned to face him, her lips curled in a snarl. “I warned you, Mate. I warned you that I would not share.” Despite the chaos of the storm, her words were low, guttural.
“Leave us!” she snapped at the Circle as they approached. They paused, considering defying her order, but finally relented, slowly stepping away as they returned to the camp.
“Not you!” she added as Gillian attempted to slink away. “Tell him the story you were so eager to share with me.”
“I wouldn’t say eager is quite –” Gillian hedged before Helena cut her off.
“No more games, girl.”
Von looked between the women, eyes wide. She could feel his confusion snaking through their bond; his desperation to connect with her. She closed him out, not wanting him to feel what Gillian’s words had done to her. Not wanting him to feel the doubt that was taking root in her heart; a part of her still trying to protect him.
Gillian repeated her story, frightened green eyes studying Helena’s claws before moving to stare at the ground. The rain pelting her had turned her elegant hairstyle into a sopping mess.
Von stiffened, his face losing all of its color.
“Tell me she’s lying, Mate, and I will remove this memory from her mind so that she may never repeat such filth again.” The Kiri ordered, no hint of Helena in the voice infused with many.
Von hesitated, and in that moment she felt the flicker of shame.
The emotion was like a whip across her heart; she felt both its lash and the resulting sting.
“Tell me.” She begged her voice, once again her own, thick with emotion.
“Helena, I love you...” he started, his hand reaching out towards her in a pleading motion.
Her eyes swam with tears, and she could no longer make out his face through the blur. That lying traitorous face. The face that had become more beloved to her than any other.
“I warned you,” she whimpered, face crumpling as her tears began to fall.
“It was before-” he tried, but she shook her head holding up her clawless hand for him to stop. There was nothing he could say at this moment that would make anything better. That one moment of hesitation costing him more than he may ever realize.
He was clutching at his chest as if he could feel her heart breaking. At least one of them could; she had gone numb. Her falling tears the only visible sign of her pain, inside there was only a lonely howl within a vast emptiness.
“You took another as your lover after you declared yourself to me. You know, as I do that as soon as you uttered the words, our souls recognized each other. You were mine from that moment. How dare you stand there and try and tell me it had happened before we were Mated. How. Dare. You!”
Von stood before her, his head bowed in shame, and his eyes clenched shut in pain. Still, he clutched at his heart while the storm raged around him, drops of water running down his face like tears.
“Leave me.” She whispered.
His eyes opened at that, surprise shining in the gray depths. “Helena...” echoed within her mind, but it was faint, as though he was shouting it from a distance. Silently she continued to build the wall that would close him off from her mind, not wanting to share that intimacy with him when she was feeling so shattered. Not wanting him to know how much power he held over her by seeing the damage his carelessness had caused.
“I cannot look at you right now. Leave. Take some men and go on without us. We will meet up with you at your parents’ home in a few days’ time.”
He dropped his head once more, shoulders sagging. He did not try and speak again, merely turned and walked away, each step looking heavier than the last.
Despite her words, Helena watched him. Her heart protesting the distance between them, while a small voice within her was begging for her to relent. With her eyes focused on her Mate, Helena didn’t notice the small smile of satisfaction curling Gillian’s lips.
Chapter Twenty-One
Von sat with his head in his hands, his third cup of Ronan’s home brew almost empty. He couldn’t get the image of Helena’s face out of his mind. How that small flicker of hope was still shining in her eyes when Gillian had repeated her story; and the moment it died.
Shame was too small a word for what he felt right now. Loathing was little better. One stupid moment brought on by a lifetime of bad decisions; all of which were made in response to years of being found unworthy, could be his undoing. Von slammed his fist on the table, causing the wood to crack under the force. The blow wasn’t enough to temper his pain, so he let out a roar and flung his arm out causing his cup to fly across the tent.
He stood quickly, his chair falling behind him. He had made one choice that he regretted as soon as he made it, and now he was left on the brink of losing all that he had come to love. There was his brother, and his men, but those relationships were tainted by a sense of duty. Only Helena had ever loved him freely, without ever demanding anything from him in return; besides his faithfulness.
His chest rose and fell with labored breaths; the need to dull his pain a siren's call. He knew he had failed her; knew with a bone-deep certainty she might never forgive him. It didn’t matter that they had only just met at the time, she was right, he had felt something shift in him in that moment. It had scared him. He was there to finish a job, period. It should have been no different than any of the other jobs he had taken in the last decade. Granted, this was a task he had given to himself, and for once it didn’t involve bloodshed, but regardless of that, he had planned to see it through.
Von's head throbbed, alerting him that he was nowhere near drunk enough for this line of thinking. Moving to where his cup had fallen, the thoughts continued. When he had come to Elysia, he doubted he’d even make it across the border, but years had a way of making people forget the threat that was supposed to exist, and it was easy to bribe a guard to allow his men through the pass. His only goal had been to lift the ban and find help for his brother. He never anticipated he might actually be the Damaskiri’s Mate. He had never allowed himself to imagine any sort of future for himself at all, save clearing his family’s name.
Von pressed calloused fingers against his eyes. His thoughts were spli
ntering, and it was becoming more difficult to focus; the brew was starting to create a pleasant fog in his mind.
He felt like a coward as he hid in his tent, but he couldn’t leave her. No matter what she asked; his heart felt like it was being pulled from his chest at the thought. Instead, he had decided to get completely shit-faced while he waited for her to calm down.
He knew he didn’t deserve her forgiveness, but he was not above begging. He had once planned to humble himself just to become one of her suitors, knowing the Chosen would taunt him as soon as they heard his name; but that had been no real hardship to bear. He didn't give a Shadow's shriveled cock about their opinion of him. But for a chance at her forgiveness... for that he would walk, no he'd crawl, naked through the streets of Daejara. Nodding emphatically for good measure, he crouched down before the cup, swaying slightly.
Recovering his balance, he checked the cup for dirt. Blowing on it and shaking it twice for good measure; the silent tirade continued in his mind. His pride, the one thing that had got him through years of neglect and battles, had no place here now. Not when Helena’s trust in him was on the line. He would do what he must, even if it required debasing himself completely.
Von had just stood and was reaching to refill his glass when Serena walked through the tent. His eyes were blurry enough that he squinted to try and see her more clearly.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded, the cup slipping through his fingers and rolling back across the floor. His eyes followed its progress across the floor, but he made no move to recover it. Instead, he narrowed his eyes and stared at it as if he could will it back to him.
“Let me get that for you,” she said dryly after they stood there in silence for a few moments. Stepping around him, she reached down and picked it up.
Von blinked trying to keep her in focus as her image began to swim in front of him.
Serena turned and crossed the short distance to where Ronan's small cask sat, her back facing Von.
“What are you doing here?” he asked again his voice sounding decidedly petulant.
“We could hear you roaring from across the camp. Everyone is talking about what happened. About how Helena has thrown you out of the camp,” she looked over her shoulder at him briefly as she continued to fill his cup, “I came to check on you.” Once she had finished, she faced him again and offered him a cup now brimming with the pale red liquid.
Von snatched it from her hand, the liquid sloshing over the rim as he took a greedy gulp. He scowled as he looked into his cup, “Ronan is losing his touch, each cup’s bitt’r than th’last,” he slurred.
Von smacked his lips together, surprised to find them feeling numb. “Fuck maybe not,” he groaned as his legs gave out and he sat down hard on the floor. “I haven’t been this drunk since... since...” he trailed off, staring at Serena in confusion.
“Are there two f'you?” he asked, his words blending together.
Serena laughed, one hand coming up to rest just above her necklace.
“You are that indeed, Commander.” She laughed. “Are you feeling better at least?”
Von stared at her stupidly. He didn’t know if he was feeling better, he couldn’t really feel much of anything as he sat there. He felt like there was something important he had been thinking about; something that he needed to do, but he just couldn’t make sense of anything with the fog thick in his mind.
“Here now, drink up, you’ll feel better after a good rest.”
“Now ther’sa good ‘dea.” Each word was harder to pronounce than the one before, but Von held up his cup, staring at it with one eye to make sure it made it the full way to its destination. Slurping down the last of the bitter liquid, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
Serena peered down at him with amused green eyes.
Wait. There was a single moment of clarity that broke through the fog before Von slumped over; unconscious. Serena didn’t have green eyes.
Gillian stared down at Von's motionless body with a sneer.
“Pathetic,” she sneered, “letting a woman get you worked up enough to leave yourself so defenseless, and you call yourself a warrior.”
She shook her head, not accustomed to the lightness of such short hair. She ran a hand along the back of her head, the silky fine strands sticking up in its wake.
Mother would be so proud if she could see all that she had accomplished in just a few days. Rowena never had believed her daughter would be capable of pulling off such a glorious deception, but it had been easy really. It just required a few well-aimed suggestions, offered when they would be most effective.
For Helena it had been simple, the girl was too naive to do anything other than take a story or person at face value. Everyone had seen that she had been worn down for days. The constant barrage of death had taken its toll on her physically and mentally. Delivering her message right after the battle, when any possible defense was completely gone, was priceless if she did say so herself.
Gillian set about the room, clearing up any sign of her presence there.
Von had been a little trickier to manage. Luckily the Bella Morte in his brew had worked out. She had a plan B, but it was much less elegant. Her fingers caressed the ax hanging from her hips. Less elegant, but just as effective.
For a man with such a notoriously strong will, he had been surprisingly easy to manipulate. Both times. Then again, today it was Helena that had delivered the fatal blow. Gillian had merely set events into motion.
The first time though... Gillian sighed wistfully. It had been fun to ride him, his powerful body leaving its imprint on her for days after. All it took was a few whispered words as she slipped something into his drink and he had taken the bait gratefully. She wondered idly if anyone had ever found the body of the serving girl whose appearance she had borrowed.
It wasn't like she could be certain Von had really gone through with the deed unless she was there to see it through, and it was essential his guilt be real when she presented Helena with his indiscretion. And she certainly couldn't do it as herself! No, stealing that woman's form had been the only option, and it wouldn't have gone well at all if she showed up while Gillian laid her trap. Not at all. Sometimes death really was the only option.
Too bad her mother wanted this one alive. He would have made a fun plaything. Unfortunately, orders were orders, and she didn't dare break one. Not with Micha's life on the line.
Gillian looked around the room, scanning for anything she may have overlooked. She needed to move quickly. She could not risk the Circle, or even the real Serena, finding her. Seeing nothing out of place, she moved back towards the body now sprawled on the ground. She ran her hand through his hair gripping it tight and yanking his head back. She wet her lips as she watched that luscious mouth fall open.
What the hell, Mother would never know if she had a taste before she completed her mission.
Gillian licked up the side of his face, his sweat salty and tasting of guilt. Delicious, she thought before pressing her mouth to his and biting his lower lip until she drew blood. She lapped it up and smiled, heady with the sense of accomplishment.
“Let's go home, lover. Mother is waiting for you.” Her voice was a sensual purr, completely at odds with the pointed nails that raked roughly down his chest. Drops of blood beaded until they pooled into a crimson feast, which she quickly bent to devour. Using some of her power she closed the scratches. No one must know she stopped to take a sip. Mother would be furious.
Gillian's hand lifted to her necklace, the purple stone beginning to glow faintly against her fingers. Her other hand still woven through Von's hair. One moment they were there, and the next they were gone.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Helena’s heart felt like it was splintering. Not a metaphorical breaking, but a physical tearing apart. It was a tightness in her chest that caused her breaths to come out in shallow gasps. She felt lost; her anchor cut away, leaving her at the mercy of a storm fueled sea. Even her ski
n didn’t feel as though it fit right. It was clammy, as though a part of her essence was leaking through a casing that could no longer contain her.
Blind to her surroundings, she paced the length of their room. Helena’s mind raced as it combed over every moment since the first when his hand had brushed hers, and an unknown part of her came into being. Flipping through the memories, she searched for some sign of his betrayal; any small moment she might have missed because she was too busy falling in love with him to see him clearly.
Even as the thoughts crossed her mind, she dismissed them. It wasn’t as simple as falling in love. She had found her Mate. Her soul’s other half. The part of her that she hadn’t realized was missing until she felt what it was to be whole. As much as one can lie to themselves, one cannot ignore the magnitude of such a moment; the feeling of utter completeness when you are reunited with the person that carries the other piece of you.
It came as no surprise that Von had a history, he had warned her of it often enough. He went so far as to tell her the night they were formally mated that he hadn’t been a good man. It wasn’t his past that had its claws tearing at her heart right now. Never mind the other lover, she had been fleeting. Someone he had used while trying to deny the bond that had already taken root inside of him. Although a small part of her still itched to test some of the new powers she had discovered, perhaps rake those lovely claws right down the bitch’s face. She could feel a flicker of Fire in her, but it was sluggish, calling to her from far away.
Helena squeezed her eyes shut, her head pounding in time with her heartbeat.
No, the part she kept replaying was the feel of his guilt in her mind. The confession of his heart, when his words proclaimed innocence. Even in knowing she would be able to feel the deceit through their bond, his first impulse was still to explain it away. Since knowing him, her every instinct had been to protect him. Could that be what caused his hesitation? Had he been trying to protect her feelings from a mistake that was made in a moment of weakness? Or was he merely trying to protect himself?
