“They’re dying faster now,” Alaric said.
“I guess we never anticipated what impact the Cwylld stone would have on the two of them,” Dre’Kariston responded as he lifted his lashes. There still wasn’t much to view on the bed; Scheredin kept the soft glow around his aunt and uncle.
“It’s better,” Dra’Kaedan commented. “It’ll give them more time on the other side. They’ll be happy.”
The Grand Warlock walked across the room and wrapped his arms around Aleksander. Dra’Kaedan quietly thanked their king for what he’d just done.
“What now, Squirt? What do you want to do?”
“I can’t leave them. I just can’t,” Dra’Kaedan managed as he scrubbed away fresh tears. “I know they are on their way and that I can’t touch them or comfort them, but I have to stay.”
“Then we stay,” Aleksander assured him. He crossed over and hugged Dre’Kariston. Next, he lowered his body to the floor and sat. Seconds later he was squished between the Grand Warlock and the Grand Summoner with their mates flanking them. Renny and Lucian took up posts on the opposite sides of Somerly and Brogan.
It didn’t take long for the rest of the D’Vaire family—including their extended members who did not share their roof—to find a spot on the wooden planks to wait out the precious time T’Eirick and Saura would share with them as the resurrected former warlocks. Delaney laid his head against Grigori, who wrapped his arm around him, and reminded himself that when they returned, they’d be darkfallen. He had zero doubt they would once again change their world as they did when they created the Council over six centuries ago.
They gave their sons the same indomitable spirit that lived inside them, and Delaney was blessed to be a part of all their lives. The faint murmur of conversation filtered around the room as the occupants told stories of T’Eirick and Saura. Over the three months they were under the D’Vaire roof, they made quite an impact. The following day when they became D’Vaires, there would be even more beautiful tales of the kindness and compassion they offered everyone. Delaney’s thoughts went to the path which led them to this time and place.
All those centuries before, Carvallius had signed their death warrants since he wanted their titles for himself. His greed and evil had cost the Coven of Warlocks everything. Fate left Dra’Kaedan and Dre’Kariston on this side of the veil to pick up the pieces. It could have turned them bitter or angry. Instead, the pair had looked outward and chosen to open their hearts and home. Because of them, Delaney had a family. He owed them everything, and he hoped to hell he got the chance to take down Latarian. It was the only way he could ever pay back the D’Vaires and maybe finally earn the name he so proudly carried.
Chapter 34
When the sun attempted to lighten the darkness of the night, Grigori was standing outside the D’Vaire mansion. The backyard hardly resembled the home he knew. All the people were dressed in the simple cotton tunics and pants in D’Vaire blue-black. Magickind were wearing their most extravagant cloaks, and the Sentinel Brotherhood contingent had all hidden their faces under their hoods. Grigori had donned the only one he owned—the same one he was mated in. In the air was the intoxicating smell of blue lotus flowers. They were everywhere, and Grigori was told they symbolized rebirth.
In a large circle, several fires were in the process of being lit. Dark and light casters, as well as those in between, were using their signature colors to illuminate the area. The focal point of everything was the two large wooden pyres that had yet to be burned. Dravyn, along with his sister, Noirin, were carefully placing pomegranates, apples, plums, and strawberries around the silk-clad bodies of T’Eirick and Saura. Each fruit represented either immortality, afterlife, or rebirth.
Standing alone while he waited for Delaney to finish his contribution of black flames, he found Duff at his side.
“Can you believe all this?” the Kellas cat shifter asked.
“Pretty amazing,” Grigori replied. “And beautiful.”
“Yeah, but they’re going to be here tomorrow. What’s the point of going through such a big deal?”
Grigori turned his head and stared at Duff for several seconds as he contemplated how best to answer. He went with his gut. “Everything about our lives that we enjoy today is because one morning, T’Eirick and Saura decided we’d all be better off if we joined together. Before they could reap the benefits of that alliance, T’Eirick and Saura were dead. Their sons never had the chance to say good-bye. They’re getting that chance now. Not many of us get the opportunity to have this kind of closure, to have a tangible moment in life to let the past go and be rebirthed. I understand you lost your parents not so long ago.…I think you’d be able to relate to what they’re going through.”
“No one’s going to resurrect my parents. No one even bothered to ask me if I might want that,” Duff snapped angrily, then stomped off.
Grigori didn’t know what to think about Duff’s statement. It wasn’t fair that some people had to lose their loved ones forever while others had the opportunity to be reunited, but if necromancers went around and brought back everybody, it would imbalance everything. The world would be lopsidedly undead and the truth was, not everyone was meant to return. He doubted any of that was something Duff wished to hear, and he could understand his anger at having to lose his parents, especially at such a young age. Duff’s grief might also be playing into his behavior that stumped both Delaney and Idris.
“You okay?” Delaney asked when he returned to his side.
“Yeah, I had a chat with Duff. I’ll tell you about it later.”
Delaney laced their fingers together, and they stood side-by-side as Aleksander waved his arms a little to get everyone’s attention. When everyone was silent and standing inside the circle of bonfires, he spoke. “There are no words to comfort someone when a loved one leaves. Though we all want to offer our hearts and would give anything to ease the pain, when the soul cries there’s nothing that can be done but give it the time it needs to heal. Thousands of years ago two warlocks were born, and at birth one of them had a faint circle on his wrist with a lion’s head in the center. Fate chose him as the next Grand Warlock and when he met his mate, she was the one selected for the role of Grand Summoner.”
Aleksander paused to suck in a shaky breath. “Their contributions to their people and to all us of standing here protected by the Council of Sorcery and Shifters are too numerous to list. It’s difficult to say what else they could’ve done if not for an evil man who tricked an equally malevolent pair of elven rulers into nearly destroying the Coven of Warlocks. We stand here today saying good-bye to those two people. To T’Eirick and Saura, who bravely stood side-by-side and sheltered their people the best they could right up until the end. Cadlyr?”
Cadlyr strode over with his stunning blue mate at his side. Evlithar had a fistful of beaded necklaces used traditionally by elves when a loved one passed. For T’Eirick and Saura, the beads were all gold and silver, the same two colors that had represented them in life as they’d ruled over the warlocks.
“The Cwylld did this,” Cadlyr stated. “Chieftain Aneirnan and Chieftess Taliya took away the lives of T’Eirick and Saura—not because of any great vendetta or just cause. They robbed their twin sons of their parents and stole from the world two rulers we desperately needed, simply because they could. As the leader of my tribe, I offer a solemn vow that no one will ever forget the evil deeds of my predecessors but more importantly, I’ll remember Grand Warlock T’Eirick and Grand Summoner Saura Leolinnia.”
“Elven tradition dictates a necklace is given to the mourner, so they may have something tangible to connect to whenever they need the love of the person on the other side of the veil,” Chieftain-mate Evlithar Cwylld-D’Vaire said. “But today, the D’Vaire elves offer our beads for another purpose. These are to recall a lifelong past and after this ceremony should be tucked away and forgotten as we focus on the rebirth of two beautiful souls.”
The pair slid necklaces ove
r the heads of the warlock twins, their mates, and their familiars as Duke Dravyn stepped forward. “On a day we thought we’d lost Dra’Kaedan, this garden was born with a single gazebo. It was expanded when Aleksander was compelled to memorialize the people in our family’s lives that were lost. Since the D’Vaires have grown, more has been added as we strive to give each of you a place of comfort if you wish. T’Eirick and Saura are already here—two statues stand for them in all their glory. They do not stand alone, as we’ve included those related to the D’Vaires who passed along with them, but it would be remiss of us to think of their deaths without acknowledging all the men, women, and children who fought so bravely against the Cwylld. They were rallied and pushed to their limits by two glorious leaders who died at the sides of their people, never retreating from battle. The former Grand Warlock and Grand Summoner were the epitome of valor and bravery—traits they passed down to their children who were mere teenagers when they lost those who gave them life.”
The dragon shifter then handed Aleksander two torches before lighting them. Magic was rarely used for funerals; it was preferred to allow nature to cleanse the bodies with fire. Aleksander passed one to Dra’Kaedan, and the other he handed to Dre’Kariston. With desolation and an innocence you did not normally see in their eyes, the twins set their parents’ bodies ablaze.
It was as if they were sucked into the past, and it was two eighteen-year-old boys who had just lost their parents instead of men who’d lived over six centuries. Once it was done, Aleksander grabbed the torches and the two warlocks hugged each other tight. It was a solemn moment that would be forever etched in Grigori’s memory.
The pyres quickly built into small infernos. Dra’Kaedan pulled back, put his hands on his brother’s face for a moment, then released him to turn and face the circle of mourners. The air became charged and filled with rhythmic drumming. “I’ve lost more of my life than I care to think about, and what hurts the most is the six centuries I had no knowledge of the people who brought me into this world. ‘How could my soul have forgotten them?’ I ask myself.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter any longer. I remember them now. Love—that’s what that they gave everyone, and it was given freely and unconditionally. I wake up each day striving to be even half as good, as caring and generous as they were. That’s the legacy they leave behind. Two people who never put themselves first.”
Dre’Kariston reached up, clasped his brother’s neck, and pulled Dra’Kaedan’s head toward his shoulder for a moment while they each got a hold of their emotions. “I could stand here until the end of time enumerating each wonderful memory I have of them. Instead, we’re going to do this the ancient way of warlocks.”
The music picked up and grew so loud it thundered in Grigori’s chest, then lowered slightly—enough so the voices of Dra’Kaedan and his brother singing could be heard. They sang in a language Grigori didn’t understand, but the feeling of it was undeniable. It was a lament, a song of mourning, and he doubted there was a person listening that was not moved by their pain and grief.
When they finished, the drums continued to beat as Aleksander disappeared into the gazebo. He returned seconds later with two large scepters, one in each hand. The first was done in D’Vaire blue-black and decorated lavishly in gold. At the top was a bright globe with a navy dragon in flight above it. The other work of art had the same base but was embellished with silver; its orb was dark like Dre’Kariston.
After handing each to the appropriate twin, he said, “Grand Warlock T’Eirick and Grand Summoner Saura explained to me that it’s customary for the rights of rulers be handed off at the funerals of their predecessors. They designed these for you. May you guide and shelter your people as their new rulers.”
The twins each gave him a solemn nod, then stared at the metal staves that soared a good foot above their heads. Seconds later, the music once again pounded through Grigori. This time when the twins sang, the other magickind joined in. The lyrics spoke of life, memories, and most importantly, rebirth.
Noirin brought out two smaller versions that were handed to Renny and Lucian as their familiars. As they all chanted, Chander grabbed Blodwen’s hand. Together, the two necromancers thinned the veil separating life from death. It was hazy, and the faces were indistinct, but Grigori intuitively understood he was looking at the long-dead entire Coven of Warlocks. He managed to spot T’Eirick and Saura standing alongside two people who resembled them as the fracture on the other side of the veil between the warlocks and their familiars was set aside for this ceremony. Grigori couldn’t hear their voices, but they were singing.
When the song ended, the entire crowd of spirits lowered down to one knee and bowed their heads in respect of the new Grand Warlock and Grand Summoner. Aleksander was the first on the side of the living to do the same and once he did, every other person in the backyard followed—barring the two twins, who were finally being properly anointed with their titles. It was another of those images Grigori would carry with him as he kneeled in respect for Dra’Kaedan and Dre’Kariston.
Dra’Kaedan lifted his arms high. “Rise,” he invited. “It’s time to shed our tears and remember life. Precious and often altogether too short.”
He handed his scepter to Brogan and changed the beat of the drums to a lively tune. His beautiful voice rang out as he removed his cloak and danced. Delaney squeezed Grigori’s hand and after getting the dark wizard and himself out of their cloaks, they joined in with the now-large crowd of people twirling and moving around the burning pyres.
The mourners on death’s side faded away, but they moved around on agile feet as well. Grigori had no doubt they would all be out here until the fires left behind nothing but ash. It was a fitting end to the lives once led by T’Eirick and Saura. He idly wondered how many hours were left before they were reborn. Without a doubt, Dra’Kaedan and Dre’Kariston could answer that question down to the minute. Grigori wanted to see smiles on their faces instead of tears in their eyes, so he hoped however long it was, it went by quickly.
Chapter 35
Tossing away his wrapper, Delaney was still in the tunic and pants he said good-bye to T’Eirick and Saura in. His feet were bare, and over twenty-four hours had passed since he’d shut his eyes to sleep. The sun rose fully and with it, a family mourned. Mired in grief, Dra’Kaedan and Dre’Kariston had switched the tempo as the pyres burned. They danced until everyone grew too weary to continue.
Then they sat down, and the twins turned to telling fantastic stories of all the trouble they got into as children. No one suggested taking a nap as the hours passed. Delaney couldn’t imagine sleeping; the tribal drumming and lively songs left his magic super-charged. Despite the weight of saying farewell to who T’Eirick and Saura were in life, Delaney’s mood grew excited as the day faded into night.
The Volkovs were with them through it all, but since they were getting ready to start focusing on resurrection, they elected to head to their condo so they would not be underfoot. Aleksander assured them that there was plenty of space and that they were family, but Irina was adamant. T’Eirick and Saura would be spending the next three days recovering, and the Volkovs would not be an obstacle to their recuperation. Scheredin had once again teleported them to their home in Las Vegas. Grigori elected to go with them, and Delaney was glad it gave him a few minutes to talk to them alone before he returned to D’Vaire.
As for Delaney, he and Greggory decided to grab a sweet snack to fuel up for the demanding work that was set to begin. He gave Greggory too many cookies to count while Delaney enjoyed an ice cream bar. The rest of the D’Vaires were scattered all over as the family waited to know if Fate was going to answer the sorcerer’s call to make the darkfallen healers. Unsure where Scheredin and Grigori were going to teleport home, Delaney headed to T’Eirick and Saura’s room. The pair mentioned to Larissa that they wanted their space done in Aleksander’s unique dragon colors with black accents. Larissa put together a gorgeous design and along with several helpers had hu
rriedly installed it all afternoon and evening.
As Delaney left the kitchen and strode down the hallway, it was his dumb luck that he found himself alone with Duff.
“On your way to pretend you’re helping with the resurrections?” Duff asked as he stood blocking Delaney’s way.
“It’s a transfer of power. If I helped with the spell itself, I’d change my magic into the school of necromancy,” Delaney patiently explained.
“Going to give me a lecture on Magic 101?”
“No, you aren’t interested in learning.”
“Like anyone around here cares what I’m interested in,” Duff griped.
“Don’t make out like the D’Vaires haven’t been good to you.”
“It’s like I told that vampire you’re always holding on to like he’s about to run out the door, no one’s rezzing my parents tonight.”
Delaney had no idea how to respond. He started off pissed at Duff’s dismissal of his relationship with Grigori, but he was stymied by the end. Duff had been his friend once, and Delaney wasn’t heartless. He’d always known the shifter missed his folks. “Duff—”
“Not that I expect you to understand. You didn’t know your parents, did you? They probably dumped your ass in an orphanage the minute your mom left the hospital. They knew you were a freak and didn’t want you fucking up their lives.”
Delaney’s fists clenched, and he wanted to punch the jerk. One minute he had compassion for Duff and in the next, he wished they didn’t share a roof. “Look—”
“Oh, don’t get your panties in a twist. Do me a favor. Ask Alaric if he can get a sentinel to take me to a club. It’s later than I usually go out, but at least I’ll get some time to dance and get laid. I already missed last night,” he said. Delaney’s face must have perfectly translated his irritation, because Duff started talking again. “Come on, not all of us get to go to bed with a sexy vampire every night.”
Becoming D'Vaire (D'Vaire, Book 11) Page 28
