Blessed by Sapphires (A Dance with Destiny Book 2)

by JK Ensley

  You are a wicked little Death Angel… growing darker by the day. Varick was right, I thought.

  I reluctantly returned home.

  *****

  Varick blocked the doorway to my room.

  “Where have you been, Princess?” His tone was dry and sharp.

  “I’ve been out, Dad. Why do you ask?” I mimicked him as best I could.

  “You did not leave here wearing that.” He pointed toward my body. “What happened?” His voice softened, worry started to shadow his sharp features.

  I looked down at the outfit Syadar had given me to replace the filthy dress I’d fallen to his world in. I will admit to you now, Reader, it could hardly be called clothing in most parts of the universe. Apparently, the Byzanthians didn’t prefer much in the way of covering.

  The extremely short skirt was the same color as his soft fur, and it hung around me with a belt that clasped just below my hipbones. The top was little more than a band of matching cloth tied around my breasts. There were some rather curious markings and scattered beadwork upon it. Syadar hadn’t mentioned if they held any significance.

  “My lovely dress got mussed on my mission.” I didn’t lie, but I chose not to elaborate.

  Varick slightly arched one eyebrow. “I didn’t realize your summons required a stop on layer two.”

  I sighed and gave in to this line of questioning. I knew there was no escaping. Have you ever tried to live with a judge? Well, it isn’t an easy thing. They are skeptical, cynical, and way too inquisitive.

  “How do you know I’ve been to layer two?”

  “You wear the markings of the Darthian clan.” He pointed toward my breasts.

  “Darthian Clan?” I looked down at my skimpy outfit. “I didn’t know that was the clan name.”

  “You don’t even know the name of his clan, yet you accept such favor from him?” His golden eyes had flames licking their edges.

  “What makes you say it was a him? Perhaps this outfit belonged to a her.” I was too tired to fight, but I couldn’t stop my tongue.

  “It did not,” he said flatly. “I should say you are the first to wear it.”

  I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. “Now, how in the world would you know a thing like that?”

  His smirk was regal, yet scary. “You do not know much about your new lover, do you?”

  That was it. He hit the button he had been searching for.

  “I don’t have a new lover.” My voice was like ice. “I have no lovers at all. I am surrounded by giant children, and children aren’t suitable lovers.”

  I tried to storm past him but he grabbed my injured arm. He didn’t speak. Anger pulsed through the vein at his temple. His breathing was loud and rapid. I stood quietly until it slowed. I knew better than to push this warrior any farther. I imagined him counting to ten in his head… One, I want to kill her. Two, I want to kill her. Three, I want to kill her. You get the picture.

  “Apologies. Your friend…” He choked on the word. “…is the first born to the leader of his clan. He has no cubs and he has not yet said the words to take a life-mate.”

  “And you know all of this… how?”

  Even though I knew better, I made sure my sarcasm was thick and uninviting. He ignored it, as usual.

  “All of this is written plainly across your breast, for all to behold. He has gifted you with the garment of your joining, your life-joining. He gets but one.”

  “This is a wedding dress?” I looked down at the tiny outfit my cat-friend was adamant I take.

  Syadar had kept my torn and dirty dress, promising he would have it mended and cleaned for when next he saw me. I could just see him laughing that curious purring laugh at me right now.

  I’m going to kill him. When next we meet, he is a dead Kitty.

  Varick didn’t speak. He just looked at me with that cocked eyebrow and a slight twist to one corner of his mouth, waiting patiently for my admission of guilt. Ugh, he infuriated me!

  “Okay, listen. I ended up there one day by accident, back before Shabriri. I made a friend while I was playing in the musical forest. His name is Syadar. He’s a mischievous trickster. Which is why he gave me these clothes, I’m certain. He’s probably rolling on the floor laughing as we speak. He is not my lover.”

  His grip upon me tightened. “Wait, you said musical forest. You can hear the music there?”

  “Yes. It’s the most enchanting sound in the world. It pulls at my soul and leaves me feeling whole and refreshed.”

  Varick put his hand to his forehead. “What am I saying? Of course you can hear the music… why would I ever have hoped otherwise?” He was mumbling more to himself than he was actually speaking to me. “You said you went there before you were taken to Spadroon. How is it you now wear these clothes?”

  I sighed again. “Nothing gets past you, does it, Varick?” I rolled my eyes and jerked my arm free from his painful grasp. “I fell through the clouds and landed there today.”

  “You fell? What happened? Are you hurt? Is the babe well within you? Please, Jenevier, tell me what horrible thing could have caused an Angel to fall thusly.”

  I felt the tears burning the backs of my eyes. “Stop calling me Angel. I am well, as is the babe. But I saw something and heard something intended neither for my ears nor my eyes. It was meant to be a secret… I wish it still was.”

  “What was it, my love?” He turned soft and gentle toward me. “Tell me what causes these tears. What could have broken you so badly?”

  “No. I will never utter a single word about what I bore witness to this day. I don’t even wish it to remain in my mind.” I grabbed onto his forearm. “Varick, do you know of a secret spell that can charm a thought out of your head? One that can erase it and leave no trace at all?”

  “No. I do not.” His eyes searched mine until he was certain I was done speaking. “Very well, then. If it was painful enough to make you fall, I will press you no more.” He gently touched my cheek. “So, you fell through the clouds and landed back in that magical forest?”

  “I did.”

  “And this, Syadar, he was there again?”

  “He was.”

  “He was the one who healed your wound?”

  I looked down at my arm where Varick was pointing. I hadn’t thought much about my injury. The skin was neatly knitted back together and only a faint scar remained.

  “Wow, I guess he did. I hadn’t even noticed. I didn’t know he could do that.”

  “It seems there is much you do not know about Byzantha, or the creatures who live there.”

  “I know that’s where Alzeen lives.”

  Varick’s eyes widened with horror at my little revelation. “You met him?”

  “Fret not, Guardian. The first time I was there, I couldn’t help but notice Syadar’s markings. They brought Alzeen’s to mind and I mentioned it to him. He could tell how much I loved Alzeen by my words alone. He sought him out for me and offered to take me to him today, since this is their Month of Joining.”

  Varick stood speechless, searching my eyes.

  I continued to reveal all I had kept hidden about this strange secret concerning his mask. I still couldn’t quite figure it out.

  “Vittorio had already explained to me how the Vanir can assume the shape of what the innocent person they are helping will feel comfortable with. He also told me he couldn’t look like Alzeen because he had never met him. It wasn’t too much of a stretch from there for me to figure out you had obviously been to Byzantha and had met the real Alzeen at some point.”

  “I wondered why his was the shape I assumed as I approached you by that little stream… while Pixies were stabbing you with thorns.”

  “You mean… you don’t get to decide what you look like?”

  “It is as you have been told many times before. We come in the form that would be most comfortable to the one we are helping.”

  A single tear ran down Varick’s cheek, he wiped it away before he thought I had the c
hance to see.

  “So, did you share with your beloved Alzeen in the glorious month of their joining?”

  I waited a moment before I answered him. “Vittorio told me I didn’t fall in love with Alzeen. He told me I fell in love with Varick while I was looking at Alzeen.”

  “That is true.” The tears returned to his amber-golden eyes.

  I touched his cheek and ran my fingers through his glorious hair. “And… this is Alzeen’s Month of Joining. I wonder who claimed him.” I couldn’t help the playful smile that spread across my face.

  He searched my eyes. “Would you claim him?”

  “I would claim my Alzeen, yes. Not that one.”

  Varick scooped me up in his arms as Alzeen’s blood red hair fell all around me.

  “You keep saying how much you need me. Yet it is I who truly needs you, Ajená.”

  I pulled back at the sound of my other name and caught the mischievous glint in his eye… an instant before his kisses removed everything else in the world.

  Chapter 52

  Jenevier

  (ZHEN-ah-veer)

  Since my belly has begun to swell, my summonses have become fewer and farther between.

  I spend much time swimming in the pristine pool of Princess Falls, my own private paradise, or walking through the vast ancient forest of Vanahirdem.

  I can no longer fly. Well, not safely, anyway. It’s awkward to my changing body and I get off-balance rather easily. Although I can still transport, I become horribly dizzy and unsteady when I reach my intended destination.

  I’m pretty much unsteady all the time anymore, even walking.

  I am constantly smothered by my new family and I long to get away for a private little holiday. Everyone here is dreadfully busy, as usual, with duties and summonses and various other heavenly responsibilities. Even though I dream of nothing more, no one will hear of me going anywhere alone.

  I miss Ashgard and I want to see Jezreel. She doesn’t even know I’m with child. This was something I dreamed of sharing with my dearest friend. I always thought our children would grow up together, play together, become the best of friends. And Jezreel, I wonder if she has found love. Now that she’s no longer cursed, suitors are probably lined up down the cobbled streets of Tamar Broden. Just thinking about it brings a smile to my heart.

  Sadly, there is no one left from my former life to share my happy news with. At least, no one I can see from within my ethereal prison home. If I still lived in the little cottage, the village women would have made many gifts for the baby, and I would already have procured a lovely little crib from the talented Mr. Trinken.

  Mostly, I’m just scared. I don’t know what to expect. I have never given birth nor have I assisted anyone else in this terrifying act of bringing forth a treasured life. My new family isn’t much help in this arena. Vareen has birthed, yes, but it was many eons ago. She only smiles at the distant memory when I try to question her about the technical parts. Vareilious has promised to stay by my side and whisper the calming words to me, aiding me through the painful process. I know he’ll do everything he can. They all will.

  Varick already waits on me hand and foot and worries over me constantly.

  But I miss my husband. He is on my mind daily now. The larger our son grows, the bigger the hole in my heart caused by the loss of his father becomes. I tell my mounding stomach the heroic story of how a brave father sacrificed everything to save me and ensure the life growing within me.

  I keep my only picture of him close to my heart, always.

  Do not think ill of me, Reader. I do not lead my loving Varick on. He chooses to be with me. And I don’t believe I could force him to leave, even as Vashti. Yet I feel he probably stays more out of duty for the child. Oh, he loves me madly. I don’t doubt that. But he never forces the issue and neither do I. I am content to live out the rest of eternity by his regal side. I will never betray him again. Yet our relationship is not a physical one. I am as committed to that mighty warrior as any loving partner could be. Alas, the heart is not an easy thing.

  When I was a child, I thought as a child. I believed in fairytales and knights and handsome Princes riding to the rescue… I still believe.

  As an adult, I know now the knights are exhausted from always being at war, and the Princes tire of constant chivalry. For they are only men and not made of the magical things I had once imagined.

  At the end of the day, we’re all just people.

  No matter what we look like on the outside. Whether we have wings, or horns, or gills, or fur, or nothing… we’re just people. We get tired, we have bad days, we say stupid and hurtful things, we get sick, we get headaches, and we get our feelings hurt. The magic part comes when we can allow our hearts to forgive. That’s true magic… and the only kind that really matters.

  The ones who will survive, is the race that wakes up to a new day and a clean slate with each sunrise.

  And that’s what I do.

  I ask forgiveness for offenses. I enjoy a good cup of tea. I sleep on a giant feather bed. And each new glorious day I walk into these enchanted woods and tell the air, for nothing remains of the portal, everything that happened the day before. Be it how many times the baby kicked, or how my back hurts and my ankles swell, or how very much I miss my azure-haired Angel. I confess all.

  It has been said there is someone for everyone out there… you simply have to find them.

  I don’t believe that’s true. I believe some people live a full life and die an honorable death, without ever having known what real love truly feels like. And I also know there are people who feel sooo much love, they cannot possibly tie it all to just one person.

  I have known the awesome power of love, and I have seen the beauty that can come from it.

  I have also seen how horribly vicious and destructive love and the hearts that wield it can be. It is a powerful emotion. But not any more powerful than is hate or fear. Amazing things have happened because of hate or fear—wonderful things and horrific things, inspiring things and heartbreaking things. This can also be said of love.

  God didn’t have to create us with such a wonderful thing as color vision, but I love nothing more than to drink in all the vibrant hues of this world. He didn’t have to make us with ears to hear, but I have been wholly comforted by a hauntingly beautiful tune I once heard played upon bagpipes. I cry still at the thought. And God didn’t have to create us with such a thing as passion. It is an awesome gift.

  I am ever thankful for all the little extra blessings that were not necessary, but make life so much more… magical.

  A friend of mine once said, and I have already recorded it here many times, that a man does not choose love, the heart loves who it will. Truer words were never spoken. If the mind were to get to choose love, I would be married to Varick and fighting by his side against the evil of this universe. But the heart gets to do all the picking. No matter how many times our brain complains, the heart is a greedy little thing. It wants what it wants, and it demands as it will.

  To be so full of the power of love, the heart alone has no compassion. And no creature can survive for very long without a drop of compassion. Not even… an executioner.

  *****

  “Are you well, my love?”

  “Yes. As well as can be expected.”

  “Why do you dwell always within these woods? Does it make you feel closer to him?”

  I looked at the tiny flowers wilting in my hands. “It does, for I am nothing if not a fool.”

  “Not foolish… broken,” he whispered.

  “Broken, yes. And now, powerless. I haven’t lived as a mere human in so long, I scarce can function so.”

  “I don’t believe you were ever a mere human.” He rubbed tiny circles across my back. “Fret not. It will return, my love. Your power wanes as the time grows near. It will return with the joyous sounds of your child’s first cries.”

  “Are you certain, Varick? Are you sure I will once again don my wings and c
laws?” I pleaded with him through my eyes. “Are you certain I will be myself once more?”

  He tenderly kissed the top of my head. “No, my Princess. I am not.” He pulled me closer and lent me his awesome strength. “But I will remain always by your side. Shoulder to shoulder, blade in hand. I will never leave you, tiny Angel. You are my world. And I wish it no other way.”

  Yes, dear Reader, and now you know the truth of it.

  This is my normal… in all its dysfunctional glory.

  Enthroned by Amethysts

  Book Three of

  A Dance with Destiny

  Chapter 1

  “And you are certain this is what happened?” He closed the book, casually looking back up at the strange glowing woman seated across from him. “This is the whole of it?”

  “It’s her journal, written by her own treacherous hand.”

  “Yes, that’s what you’ve said.” He tossed it back upon the desk between them. “How can I be sure?”

  “Believe what you will, I care not.” She crossed her arms and glared at him. “I was there… well, she records when first I showed myself to her.”

  “That event is recorded here, yes, if this is truly her story.”

  Valencia’s arms went down, hands balling into fists at her sides. “You doubt me? This is her twisted life written by her betraying hand and I took it from her own bed chambers. If she lied, take it up with her. I care not.”

  “Yes, you keep saying that.” He casually rested his forearm on the ornate sword hilt at his waist. “But tell me… Why? No one ever had to know. All you had to do was live and let live. Yet you willingly came to me with an unbelievable tale for the ages, when sealed lips alone could’ve spared so much misery.” He leaned toward her, studying her features. “Why?”