The Lady of Toryn Anthology (Lady of Toryn trilogy)

by Charity Santiago

  “Just until you’re ready to take over,” the half-Toryn girl said, offering an easy smile. “Have a safe trip. I’m so glad that your father is going to be okay.”

  Ashlyn stood and turned to leave, then hesitated. “You know, Restlyn, I’m going to talk to him about you being Scorned,” she said, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “Obviously it doesn’t stand now, but we both know what he did was wrong and hurtful. He needs to apologize.”

  “I know, and I’d like that,” Restlyn answered, and Ashlyn glanced over her shoulder, surprised at the reply. Restlyn grinned ruefully. “I’m not saying I’ll move back to Toryn. But I’d like to know that I could if I wanted to, and not have to suffer any of the elders condemning me. I always felt like this was my home- not Cosmea, and definitely not Storim.”

  Ashlyn smiled. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Chapter 8

  Monsters and Royals

  Ashlyn made her way towards the healing lodge, carrying her book with her and wondering for the first time if perhaps Restlyn was a better option to select as her successor than Skye. Was there any way that a half-Toryn could become Lady? Restlyn had been brought to Toryn and adopted into the Li family following her mother’s death in Cosmea, so that did give Restlyn some status within the Toryn community.

  Ashlyn took off her shoes before entering the lodge. Although she had noticed that most of the old traditions were overlooked in Toryn now, it didn’t feel right to enter a place of magic wearing grubby old sneakers.

  “Come in,” Vargo snapped when she knocked on the doorframe. When she slid the door open and stepped inside, he had his pillow over his face, his face hidden but his bandaged wrists and arms showing. There was a book on the sheet next to him.

  “I didn’t know you could read,” Ashlyn said teasingly, and he nudged the pillow out of the way, immediately brightening when he saw her.

  “It’s this new thing I’m trying.” He tried to sit up, but fell back, grimacing with the effort. “Apparently…girls dig…ugh…learned men.”

  “Depends on the girl, I guess.” Ashlyn eased herself down into a sitting position beside his mat, put the book on the floor and reached over to help him, propping the pillow behind him to keep him upright. The bandages swathed his arms from wrist to elbow. He was shirtless, with his abdomen wrapped in gauze. Ashlyn found herself noting the solidness of his heavily muscled upper arms and well-defined, scarred chest before she averted her eyes, blushing, and tried to sound light-hearted. “You look pretty awesome right now. No joke. I’d never guess you almost died last night.”

  “Almost died? Yeah, right. I’d never kick it without a sweeping exit.”

  He was parroting the same words back to her that she had said that night in Storim, when she first found out about Devlyn and his war on FLD. The humor was lost on Ashlyn, though, as she was hit rather suddenly with the realization that her entire world had completely changed in the few short weeks since she had walked into Restlyn Place.

  That night she had still regarded the Spartans as enemies, but today she was sitting next to a Spartan who had wormed his way into her heart and- more importantly- saved her life. That night she had called Drake a two-faced liar, but now they were- they were something. Courting? In a relationship? It was difficult to label, whatever it was.

  “I’m glad you’re okay,” she said, turning her attention back to Vargo. “And I mean ‘okay’ as in not dead after saving my butt yesterday.”

  His eyes were fixed on hers, and he somehow managed to look nonchalant by quirking one corner of his mouth briefly. “It’s not often I get the chance to play hero in front of you, Ash. Even less often that I get to show you how I feel without you knocking me out or running.”

  “I don’t run,” she protested.

  “I seem to remember two specific occasions where you fled after I kissed you, princess,” he said.

  “Those were…special situations.” She cringed at the silliness of her own wording.

  Vargo grinned. “They were pretty special.”

  She shifted uncomfortably, and stared down at her hands. There really wasn’t any way out of this. “Vargo, I’m…” Totally at a loss for words. How do I explain this to you?

  “Speechless? Head over heels for me? Completely turned on by my heroics?”

  He was so adorably annoying that she had to smile. “You’re not in any condition to be flirting.”

  “Babe, I’m in condition for more than flirting,” he said, and his gaze was so direct that Ashlyn started blushing again.

  “I’m…not going to deny that there’s something between us, Vargo,” she said. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not attracted to you, or that I don’t care about you, or that I’m not…incredibly grateful for what you did yesterday.” She paused.

  His eyes had shifted as she spoke, his expression more guarded. “Go on,” he prompted flatly.

  “I...love Drake,” she said.

  Vargo was silent for a moment, clearly unsurprised.

  “Does he love you?” he asked at last.

  Another pause.

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “That’s right, I don’t know,” Ashlyn said testily. “That’s not really so unusual, Vargo. I don’t know his every thought and this- this relationship is so new that it’s not like we’ve discussed all of it in detail.”

  “Did you tell him you loved him?” Vargo demanded. His hands were clenching and unclenching the bedcovers, his mouth set in a grim line.

  “Of course.”

  “If you told him you loved him, then he should have responded accordingly,” Vargo said, his voice low and growling. “When your girl tells you she loves you, you don’t leave her hanging like a bratty little kid with a crush. You tell her how you feel.”

  “Some people are more open with their feelings. Drake’s not like that.”

  “Damn straight, Drake’s not like that. He’s just like Skye, hung up on some dead girl. He’s also a vampire, Ash. Do you have any idea what that means?”

  “I know that!” Ashlyn snarled. “I’m not blind! The resist stane controls his vampirism. He’s still got a soul and he’s still capable of loving, just as much as you or me.”

  “You can train a dog to heel, but it’ll still turn on you when it’s hungry. Resist is only hiding the monster, not making it disappear!” Vargo was nearly yelling by his last word.

  “Calm down!”Ashlyn exclaimed. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. It’s none of your business!”

  “We’ve been keeping tabs on that vampire for the last three years,” Vargo said. “Every year, like clockwork. Meeting up with him to make sure that he hasn’t gone insane and started killing again. And now you’re saying you love him? Are you…” He stopped, breath hissing through his teeth as he fought to control his temper. “Someday he’s going to snap. It’s inevitable and that’s the whole damn reason the Spartans keep an eye on him. If you’re with him, who the hell do you think he’s going to kill first when that time comes? That resist stane is a pretty pathetic insurance policy!”

  Ashlyn snatched up her book and stood, tears in her eyes. “I don’t have to listen to this,” she said unsteadily. “Drake doesn’t want to kill, any more than he wants to be a vampire. I know he asked the Spartans to hold onto the second resist stane. That’s only because he didn’t have anyone else to help him.”

  “And there’s a good reason for that! People steer clear of vampires, Ash. People who value their own lives. People who care about those who love them.” He glared at her, and his eyes were bright. Too bright. He was close to crying too.

  Frustrated, Ashlyn turned and braced one hand against a wooden beam in the wall, trying to keep a handle on her temper. “Don’t do this, Vargo,” she said quietly. “I care about you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  He laughed hoarsely behind her, his voice thick with tears as he spoke. “That’s working out great, princess. Just great. Nice stra
tegy. Make a guy fall in love with you and then tell him you’re ditching him for a monster. It’s phenomenal for the ego. I’m not even kidding. I feel awesome right now.”

  “Stop it,” she pleaded, turning back. “You’re my friend. I’m not ditching you for anybody.”

  “I don’t want to be your friend,” he snapped. “Any more than I’m sure Lockhart does. That guy-” Vargo shook his head, swallowing hard. “What did he do to deserve you?”

  She wasn’t sure how to respond. Vargo wasn’t looking at her. He was staring hard at the wall on the opposite side of the room like his life depended on it.

  “Vargo,” she said gently. “I-”

  “Don’t.” He still didn’t look at her. “Just leave.”

  “I’m not-”

  “I don’t want you here,” he seethed, and exasperated beyond reason, Ashlyn threw up her hands.

  “Fine,” she said. “Have it your way.” She almost yanked the door to his room off its tracks, not bothering to close it behind her as she nodded to an embarrassed surgeon who had clearly heard the entire thing through the thin walls of the lodge. Ashlyn stomped out the main door, carrying her shoes with her.

  She had barely taken two steps outside before she smacked into Drake’s chest.

  “Damn it! Ow,” she muttered, rubbing her nose. “What the hell, Drake? Can’t you use your super senses to move out of the way or something when I’m being klutzy?” She sniffled and bent to pick up her dropped book. Drake offered her a handkerchief- red, of course- and she accepted it gratefully. “Thank you. I just don’t get it. Why do you always have to show up just in time to see me at my worst?”

  He didn’t say anything, and after a moment, she glanced up at him. His eyes were shadowed, his lips pressed into a thin line. Ashlyn recognized that look.

  “Oh, no. What? What’s wrong?” She put a hand on his arm, and slowly, Drake turned his head to look at her hand, then turned back to meet her eyes.

  “I was listening,” he said, his voice morose and deadened, in a way that Ashlyn was very familiar with.

  Completely unbidden, a single giggle rose up and forced its way out from her throat, then another, until Ashlyn clapped her hand over her mouth, horrified by her completely inappropriate reaction. She held up one finger to Drake as she turned away, trying to quell her hysterics.

  “I’m sorry,” she finally managed to gasp out. “You’re just so…so serious…and I think…I’m sorry…I just can’t be serious anymore.” She laughed again, remembering that just a few weeks ago she’d been as light-hearted and fun-loving as ever, and nothing had changed, nothing should change, even with the addition of all these new responsibilities and developments. Except that being hysterical over Drake’s angst was a far cry from being light-hearted.

  She smiled wanly at Drake as she turned back to him a moment later. “Whatever you’ve got to say, Lockhart, it ain’t gonna ruin my mood.”

  He fixed her with a red-eyed stare, and she stared back at him half-earnestly, doing her best not to crack a grin. Maybe she’d finally lost her mind. Maybe this was the last day that history would document Ashlyn Li as being of sound mind and body.

  “Vargo is right, Ashlyn.”

  Oh, great. He was not doing this now. No man in his right mind would do this now.

  “No man in his right mind would do this right now,” Ashlyn repeated aloud. It sounded better in her head, somehow.

  “I am a monster,” Drake said, completely stone-faced.

  “Is that your excuse? You’re a monster so you don’t have to have manners?”

  “Ashlyn.” He was still trying to be serious, but in some ridiculous twist of fate, any hint of seriousness inside Ashlyn had flown out the window, and all that was left were several hysterical giggles and flippant denial. Here she was, standing barefoot outside the healing lodge, in love with a vampire, rejecting advances from a Spartan, and Drake was trying to turn it into some kind of on-stage melodrama, as if reality wasn’t dramatic enough.

  “An hour ago you gave me the second resist stane!” she said, completely dumbfounded as to this new development. “How can you change your mind in an hour? I haven’t even seen you since you gave it to me.”

  “You can keep the stane,” he said, and stopped, looking unsure of how to continue. “I just want you to be happy, Ashlyn. I can’t promise you happiness, not with what I am.”

  “Where in any book, anywhere does it say that vampires aren’t allowed to be happy?” she demanded, poking a finger into Drake’s chest with every word for emphasis. “You are not allowed to be miserable any more. I forbid it. And I’m going to be Lady of Toryn, so people pretty much have to listen to me. It’s a law…or something.”

  “Ashlyn, would you please stop acting like a child?” he snapped, grabbing her hand and shoving it away.

  That gave her pause. He’d never called her childish before. Ashlyn fell silent, and looked up at him, dread creeping into her heart.

  “You deserve to be with a man,” he said, all darkness and gloom and liquid red eyes.

  I could happily murder him right now with my bare hands for being such an unforgivable ass, she thought as he continued.

  “A man who can rule beside you, who can grow old with you. Vargo is right. I am a monster. I certainly shouldn’t be putting your life in danger as I have, risking your safety for the sake of my own desires.”

  Ashlyn gathered her dignity around her like a cloak, trying to summon her self-respect and anger and whatever authority she could muster as his words ripped into her like bullets. “You should consider your words very carefully right now. Nothing you’re saying is news to me. I chose to be with you despite whatever dangers you think there are. And I know you haven’t forgotten that I’ve experienced some of those dangers firsthand, and emerged pretty much unscathed.”

  He flinched visibly at her last sentence, no doubt remembering the attack by the waterfall. “I’m sorry. But…” He paused for what was possibly the longest pause ever since the beginning of time, probably allowing himself time to come up with the most hurtful words he could manage, and said, “I am…ending this.”

  Ashlyn’s eyes narrowed as she gazed up at him, fury unfurling in the pit of her stomach. “You’re ending this,” she repeated. “You’re ending what, exactly? The way I feel about you? The chemistry between us? Somehow I don’t think that’s gonna just disappear because you said so.”

  Conflicting emotions warred in his expression. “I’m aware of that.”

  She waited for him to continue, but when he didn’t, she shook her head. “So I guess that means you’re just going to walk away after all this is over, then? Pretend I don’t exist until FLD has to come together to save the world again however many years down the line? We’re this way for a reason, Drake. For crying out loud, you were the one who told me no one can run from destiny! I should know. I spent the last three years convincing myself I didn’t care about you, and that all flew out the window the minute I looked into your eyes.”

  Her eyes were stinging with the promise of tears, but at this point she didn’t care how pitiful she looked. “Vargo loves me, and he’s not afraid to fight for me. He has been completely honest about his feelings from the beginning. He wants to give me safety and stability and- and love. He’s offering me all of that. But the thing is, I know…I just know I’ll never feel safe or loved, unless I’m with you.”

  Drake’s eyes glittered, but still he said nothing, and after a long moment, Ashlyn dropped her gaze to the handkerchief she was still holding. “The worst part,” she said softly, “is that I know you love me. I know you could be happy with me if you would just…let go. But nobody can make you start living again. No one can force happiness on you, Drake. You have to make that decision yourself.”

  The short pause that followed her words was the longest of her life, while Ashlyn struggled against the urge to keep going, to try to convince him using words and logic. There was nothing logical about love. If that were the case, the
n she certainly wouldn’t have fallen for a masochistic and boneheaded vampire with a penchant for drama.

  She stared down at the handkerchief in her hand, deciding impulsively not to give it back.

  Finally she looked up at Drake, and their eyes locked one last time.

  “I’m not going to beg you to love me,” she said, and brushed past him, scooping to pick up her shoes as she fled.

  Despite the stinging in her eyes, she didn’t cry. There was something inside her that refused to be broken, something reminding her that she wasn’t a child and she didn’t need Drake any more than he needed her. What she’d told him was a true reflection of her heart. She would walk away from this without regret.

  A sudden wind whipped at her ponytail, the sound of humming engines reaching her ears, and Ashlyn looked up, hoping against hope that Aaron had returned at exactly the right moment.

  He had.

  “Oh, I love you so much right now, you ancient crotchety old pilot!” she exclaimed, breaking into a run. North Camp wasn’t more than a quarter day’s flight, but for Aaron to be coming back this soon, he must have left immediately after getting her dad settled and flown through the night to get back to Toryn.

  She took a shortcut between two lines of houses, dashing between the raised porches of the homes and slipping a bit in the mud she found there. The airship roared above her head, the noise a welcoming respite from the self-pity that was threatening to consume Ashlyn’s thoughts at the moment. She rounded the corner and nearly collided with Aik, who was exiting the stairwell of one of the houses.

  “Oh geez! Sorry, Aik, you okay?” She jogged in place, mud squishing between her bare toes. She was too relieved for a distraction to stop completely.

  He ignored her question and looked up at the airship. “Is he here to take you back to North Camp?”