Burnt Devotion

by Rebecca Ethington

  I knew it couldn’t be.

  “Talon?” I asked again as he reluctantly released me. My frame was tiny against his as I looked up to him, grateful when his large, warm hands stayed against my skin. “What’s going on?”

  The joy in Talon’s face sagged at the question, the light behind his dark eyes dimming a bit.

  I tensed at his reaction, almost expecting the laugh to filter through the courtyard.

  “What are you asking?”

  Like an off key note in a Styx cover, something was bothering me. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but the more I looked at him, the more my panic grew.

  “Why are you here?” My voice faltered a bit at the question, and the pieces fell into place as the image of him standing behind the clouded veil came to me, the sad half smile he had given me as I made my choice.

  “This is our Tȍuha, Wynny.”

  Panic spouted at his words. What I had perceived to be a lie dug at me, bringing back the pain and denial I had only so recently escaped.

  This wasn’t a Tȍuha. It couldn’t be. Not after his death, not after the choice I had made. I hadn’t realized it at the time, but I had given this up. This life, this beautiful place that linked me so closely to my mate, to him—it was gone now.

  “No.” His face fell, and I regretted the sternness in my voice at once. It was not like I had meant it, but it wasn’t, not anymore. “I chose to live.”

  “You did,” he said succinctly, as if commenting on his distaste in my choice of music.

  The response only added to my confusion more, and I was positive it showed on my face, for Talon chuckled the same as he always had while his hands ran down my arms as the cool air moved around us. His smile grew as he led me to the same bench we had sat on for more than a century of shared consciousness.

  “Then how…?” The words barely made it out. The confusion was so deep now I was sure I was going to give myself permanent wrinkles from the amount of concentration I was trying to take on.

  I sunk down to the bench as Talon laughed beside me, his body folding before me until he kneeled on the old, cobbled stones with his large hands wrapped comfortably around mine.

  He seemed so much larger than he really was when he sat like that, the sheer bulk of his muscles and width of his chest turning him into a bolder. I smiled, a look he returned with his bright eyes dancing.

  “You chose to live,” Talon parroted, his voice near a whisper as the pressure of his hands against mine increased. “You let Joclyn heal you so you could help them … so you could be with them.”

  My lips pressed into a tight line at the memory of that moment, the army they had been surrounded by, and Sain’s knowledge of what was going to happen. Yes, I had made the choice. And, while part of me didn’t regret being able to help them—to be with Joclyn after her fight with Ilyan, to help Ryland fight his monsters—I did regret not being with Talon.

  I regretted his death and that I couldn’t follow him.

  Yet…

  “So w-w-why am I here?” I asked, my voice stuttering as I tried to find the right words to match my questioning. “Why are you here?”

  “Am I really here?” Talon laughed as he stood, his body growing to an unnatural height before he sunk down onto the bench beside me, his body pressing against mine from thigh to shoulder. “I don’t know. Perhaps this is only a dream.”

  I thought about that as I leaned against him, as his head pressed against mine, and we both looked into our sanctuary. It was a courtyard he had chosen for our Tȍuha over a century ago, one I now recognized as the cobbled yard of a castle we had met in many times before while I had spied for Ilyan, a reconnaissance spot where information had been traded. It was where our hands had touched for the first time.

  I smiled at the memories, at the knowledge that he had loved me even before my memories were gone. He had loved every part of me, even the parts that had worked for Edmund for so long.

  The thought was comforting. It made everything seem more real.

  “It doesn’t feel like a dream.”

  “No,” Talon responded in a whisper, his arm wrapping around me as he pulled me closer. “I would have to agree. I feel very real. You feel very real…”

  His voice faded away as his hands trailed over my body, the large pads of his fingers rough yet somehow soft against my skin. I gasped at the touch, at the sensations that moved through my body.

  It was so similar to how our magic had always connected inside of this space. Although much of the power and the emotion behind it was missing, I could still feel it. I could still feel him.

  It was all very real.

  My breath shook in exhale as his fingers moved over my neck, only to have both of us freeze at the childlike laugh that moved through the courtyard. The sound was high and joyous, despite my body refusing to register it as such. Everything tensed in panic as I looked toward the sound, almost expecting to see the bloodied child standing before us, but it was only the sound, only the echo of a life that was trapped.

  I knew that now, but it didn’t stop the panic and tension from taking over. All I could feel was the heavy, painful, pulse of my heart as I looked over the courtyard, Talon’s touch all but gone.

  “She is very real,” Talon whispered beside me, his voice sounding far too distanced as another echo of a laugh encompassed me.

  “Rosaline.”

  Did I speak in longing or fear? I wasn’t sure. My heart felt both, and it scared me.

  “Yes.”

  I turned toward Talon at his one word response, my eyes wide as I looked at him and begged him for an answer I knew I needed, even if I dreaded what it would be.

  “Have you seen her?”

  Talon looked at me with all the love I had known from him, his eyes shrouded in passionate sympathy.

  I stared at him, waiting for his answer, searching his eyes for some clue as to what he knew, but it was only understanding and love I saw as his hand came to rest against my cheek, as if the touch would somehow soften the blow.

  I don’t think anything could.

  “No. I have searched for her—I have followed the laugh—but she is not there. Her soul is still trapped.”

  Her soul is still trapped.

  The words dug into my heart as flash after flash of that night moved through me. Of Edmund’s torture and the way he cut her apart, locking her soul into that blood red blade.

  I had vowed to Edmund only days before that I would release her soul from that blade. I had promised I would set her and my brother free from the extended torture I knew he had wrought on them.

  Hearing it again, hearing the reminder of what had happened to her, only renewed my desire to live. I would hunt down the man who had destroyed so much and hurt so many.

  My jaw clenched together, the powerful magic that had stayed dormant until now raging to life. My fingers burned with the energy.

  “Rosy.” It sounded more like an anthem than a name. Perhaps it was now.

  “Maybe you needed to live for more than Joclyn, for more than helping them escape. Maybe you needed to live to save that little girl and help her find peace.”

  His voice was distant and hollow in my ears, even though I heard his words and agreed with every syllable he spoke.

  I couldn’t look away from the empty courtyard. I couldn’t look away from the space that her laugh had echoed from. My fists were balled at my side as I stood, certain that, if Edmund was before me at that moment, I wouldn’t hesitate to destroy him.

  The laugh came again, loud and joyous in my ears, and I flinched, the determination growing as my magic flared violently within me. I stepped forward on instinct, the tap of my shoes loud in my ears before I stepped back, doubting myself for the first time in the last few minutes.

  “Don’t worry, Wynny. One day, you will be brave enough to follow that laugh.”

  I looked at him at the statement and the confidence it held behind it. I knew it was true, and I knew I wanted to. I couldn’
t, not yet. Not when I held so much guilt in my heart about what had happened. About what I had done.

  “You and Thom, both. You will find peace. Happiness.” Talon spoke deeply, his voice breaking in an emotion that cut through me because of the jealousy and resentment I had never wanted him to feel.

  I had chosen to leave Talon in whatever life awaited us beyond this one without me. I had also chosen to live, to be near a man who tamed me. A man I still desperately loved. And everyone knew it.

  Thom.

  The blood drained from my face at the realization, at the guilt that was taking over. I wanted to tell him not to worry, to beg him not to think that way, but I couldn’t, because it wouldn’t be true.

  “I want you to always be happy, Wyn.” The words were a stab to the gut, the phrasing exactly what he had told me only moments before he had died, before I had chosen to live and left him for what I had thought would be forever.

  “Be happy.” He leaned down and whispered the last words in my ear, his voice so soft and gentle it ran down my spine in a ripple of pleasure and relaxation that took all my confusion and guilt from before away.

  I shivered at the touch, at the words, as the grey sky before us broke open, the golden light that had been smothered rushing through in ribbons as it escaped its confines. It bathed the courtyard in a yellow glow that made everything glitter and come alive. It was the same sanctuary we had sought so often before, creating a calmness that moved into me as I turned toward him. His fingers were soft as he ran them over my cheek, as his eyes pulled me into him.

  “I am not sure how this works, if this is real or if it will be here again. For all I know, our Tȍuhas have been broken, and this is part of your delusions.” He laughed at his declaration, but I couldn’t. Not when everything felt so real, not when I didn’t want to lose this.

  “I hope not.”

  “So do I.” He sighed into my ear, his breath warm as it ran pleasurably over my skin. “But, if I’m not here the next time you find this place, know that I love you, that I adore you, and that I will see you again soon.”

  “Talon…” I tried to stop him, tried to declare the same love and passion to him that he had for me, but before I could get more than one word out into the air between us, he stopped me with words that in some weird way meant more to me than any other.

  “You gave all the love that I needed. So shy, like a child who had grown. You’re my lady.” He spoke them gently, lyrics to the band I had so foolishly worshiped for so long, the band he had playfully declared his distaste for since I first found them in the 70s. Regardless, he said them. He said them loud and clear as he looked into me and captured my heart yet again.

  “Go save that beautiful girl of yours. I can’t wait to meet her.”

  His words faded as the brilliance of the sun washed everything into a bright white glow. Warmth seeped into me before the Tȍuha faded into reality, leaving me gasping on my bed as I woke.

  I blinked into the room I had spent most of the day before within, ripping apart and removing all traces of Talon and who I was. I let my eyes adjust to the dim light of what I could only assume to be dawn, the steadily increasing light glimmering over the ancient, wooden rafters above me.

  “Good morning, Wynifred.” Sain’s voice was soft beside me, and the last fragments of the dream faded away with the calm words.

  Muscles ached in a dull throb that tensed through my weak body as I turned to him. Even though it had been a few days since Joclyn had removed the curse from my body, I still ached, like a body flu mixed with a muscle transplant surgery. I was sure the fact that everything in this abbey was a veritable soap opera didn’t help, either. Then again, if it was a soap opera, it would have been at least mildly humorous.

  There wasn’t really anything funny about the dangers that had taken up residence both inside the abbey and out.

  Sain sat in the old chair near my bed with a wide grin plastered to his face as he slowly sipped on the disgusting filth both he and Joclyn now called food. My stomach twisted a bit at the memory of Joclyn, sitting surrounded by all those feathers after her fight with Ilyan, shaking and broken as she drank the Black Water.

  It was truly bizarre how everything had changed for the both of us. Too much change, too fast. Jayne would want to blow something up. I would, too.

  “Good morning.” My voice was stuck in its ‘I just woke up and need water’ gasp, something which Sain took note of as his smile widened, and he walked away from me, toward the wide table where a couple of plain, ordinary, everyday water bottles sat.

  “Sorry, it’s just me today. Thom is on watch, so I volunteered to take his place. It seems you were talking in your sleep, and he preferred some time away.” Sain handed me the water bottle as I slowly pushed myself to sitting, the aches rippling over me with a deeper intensity with the movement.

  While they were definitely not as bad as they had been when I first woke up a few days ago, my stint to visit Joclyn last night hadn’t really taken them away, either. Less Mack truck, more elephant gun to the chest now. Either way, everything still hurt.

  I knew I should have been upset that I was still being babysat, especially with Ryland fighting with his own mind. I couldn’t be, though, not with the tiny bit of information Sain had let slip and with what I knew it must mean, especially with the dream I had woken from.

  “I was talking in my sleep?” My voice sounded flat.

  “Yes, seemed to upset Thom some.”

  Ugh. I knew why, and it only upset me more. My blood pumped in disappointed irritation.

  “I wonder why that would be.” Sain spoke calmly, despite the fact that his eyes dug into me with the same intensity I had always hated from Draks. Even as a child, the way they looked into me creeped me out. I was so glad my best friend was going to start doing that, too.

  Sarcasm is a beautiful thing.

  “You tell me.” Yes, I was surly, but I had every right to be. Thom should know better after everything and all the centuries that had passed since I had seen him, the many lives I had been weaving my way through.

  He should know.

  It made me upset that he had gotten wrapped up in the “what ifs” that even I was still fighting with.

  “I have no need to tell you what you already know.”

  That did it.

  Draks and their endless open thoughts and all-seeing ventures. He might as well be wearing purple robes and carrying around a crystal ball.

  I slammed the water bottle down on the side of the bed with a thunk, droplets flying from the lip from the force. Sain moved away from them as if they were poison, his lip curling into a sneer of disgust.

  “He was my husband, Sain. My mate for over a hundred years. I can’t walk away from that and back into a life I willingly left behind.” I tried to keep the snottiness out of my voice, keep the murderess at bay, but she came out anyway. As sour as the day I was born. “It doesn’t work that way.”

  “You know as well as I that your heart is fighting the same way his does. Do not place all the blame on him.”

  And there it was—the words that weighed me down and made it hard to breath, the truth that stopped me in my tracks and froze my anger in place. I was fighting the same thing.

  Part of me expected what Thom did—to move forward without question. The other part of me knew that couldn’t happen. Not because of the death, not because of the memory, not even because of the life I had led without him, but because of the dream I had awoken from and the gentle way it pulled at my soul with all the possibilities of what it might mean.

  “Sain?” I asked, my voice faltering a bit with nerves at what I was about to ask. “Can you still have Tȍuhas after your mate has passed on?”

  “I wouldn’t know…” He didn’t even look at me as he said it; he only clutched the mug to his chest, his voice sounding a million miles away as he stared out the window at something I couldn’t see, at a life I could never comprehend.

  I stared at him, wait
ing, trying to squash the irritation and the snide comments away. I knew that, the longer he waited, the higher the chance I would demand an answer, and that was something I wasn’t really interested in doing.

  Then it hit me. His bonding, his mate, his Tȍuhas, they had been stolen from him. What was more, as much as he insisted that he no longer loved Ovailia, I knew better as much as he did. Love didn’t simply go away. It was always there. It was just that sometimes it was hidden, sometimes it was more pain than passion. That love, that connection, and that Tȍuha had been stolen from him, and there had been no death there.

  I regretted my question at once, my breath shaking with exhale before I aggressively drank from the water Sain had given me while my forehead furrowed in agitation.

  “But Dramin would.” It had been so long I hadn’t expected a response, and that one was the last one I would have wanted to hear.

  “Dramin? Your son?” The words were little more than a squeak.

  “Yes.”

  If I had been confused and lead-filled before, it was nothing compared to now. The last time I had seen Dramin was in a cave in Africa, a cave I had filled with the blood of his children, his grandchildren. I had slaughtered them all. I had walked through the pools of their blood in my attempt to reach him, the hem of my dress soaked with the deep red magic that had once held the power of sight. I would have gotten him, too, if his mate hadn’t flung herself before me. Before I could finish her off, he had already gone.

  “You are aware of my tie with Dramin?” I could barely get the words out.

  “I am. After all, it’s the same tie you have with me. You killed all of my progeny, as well.”

  Let’s just add to the dread, why don’t we?

  I could barely breathe. I hadn’t thought of that before, but now that it was out in the open, it was all I could see. This old man who had led me out of Imdalind, whom I had traveled with for months, had his kind massacred by me.

  “I still talk to you.”

  I stared at him, my eyes narrowing as I tried to figure out what to say, tried to understand what he meant and what the peculiar look he was giving me was. It wasn’t the anger I would have assumed. Not the heartache, either. Something was there that I didn’t understand, though. Something that was fueled with an emotion I knew all too well, the same one that had fueled so many of the murders I had committed.