Alliance Forged

by Kylie Griffin

  Someone tackled him from the side. The collision broke his grip around Lisella’s throat. He hit the ground hard. The impact drove the breath from his lungs and cracked his head back against the hard-packed dirt.

  Head spinning, he blinked up at a bloodred sky that abruptly changed to blue. A forearm pressed against his chest. Jole’s weather-tanned face stared down at him, his expression two parts steely resolve, one part concern.

  Rasping gasps and coughing reached them. Varian turned toward the sound. Jole’s weight shifted and the edge of a dagger was placed against his throat.

  “Easy, Na’Chi,” the Light Blade warned. Hypersensitive, Varian could feel the deadly hum of his Gift.

  Collapsed on the ground, with Candra kneeling beside her, Lisella attempted to suck in deep breaths. Tears tracked down her cheeks. Around them the small crowd buzzed with whispers. Their bitter fear saturated the air. As the last few minutes crystallized in his mind, shock lanced through Varian.

  “Merciful Mother…” His voice, hoarse and gravelly, broke. “Lisella? What have I done?” A shudder tore through him. Red finger marks ringed her throat, a violent tattoo that shook him to the core. Nausea rolled, and his stomach dry heaved. “Let me up, Jole. Candra, is she all right?”

  The warrior on top of him pressed harder with his dagger. The elderly healer glanced up, the lines creasing her face white with tension.

  “It’s all right, Jole,” she said, her tone low. “The energy inside him, he has it under control.”

  Controlled, a small mercy, but not banished. Jole slowly rose off him, sheathing his dagger. Varian pushed himself upright, every limb trembling, his heart tearing at the tears tracking down Lisella’s face.

  “Oh, Lady of Light… I’m sorry….” He dropped his head into his hands as a groan welled from deep inside his chest. “I’m so sorry….”

  What had he done?

  “Varian…” Lisella’s harsh whisper lifted his head. Her gaze locked with his. With Candra’s help, she climbed to her feet and came over to him. She reached out to touch him, hand shaking. “I’ll be all right. But you won’t… if you don’t get help….”

  The painful rasp in her voice made him flinch. Throat tightening, he averted his gaze, no longer able to meet hers. He’d attacked her. If Candra and Jole hadn’t stopped him, he’d have killed her. The darkness inside him writhed, but guilt choked it back.

  “Don’t let this beat you, Varian.” Her hand tightened on his shoulder. “We can’t lose you now.” She made him look at her. The flecks in her gaze were a deep, solid green.

  Not yellow.

  Fear.

  Or black.

  Anger.

  Pure green.

  Steely resolve.

  It gave him the strength to push to his feet even though every muscle felt like one of Candra’s gelatinous salves. The pain eating away everything inside him hadn’t disappeared. If he ignored it, the beast would return, eventually, and he doubted any interference would stop him until he killed someone.

  Varian trembled. The shadow staining his soul would consume him. He wasn’t supposed to hurt the ones he cared about. There’d never be any peace for him if he did that.

  “Kymora…” he rasped. “Where’s Kymora?”

  “You’re not going anywhere near—”

  “He won’t hurt her, Jole.” Lisella pointed in the direction of the Temple. “Apartment… meditating…”

  The gathered crowd backed away as he staggered in their direction. Varian grimaced at the heavy stench of fear rolling at him in waves but didn’t let it stop him. His breath shortened as everything around him began leeching of color again. Beautiful blues, greens, browns, and yellows altered to the faintest of crimson hues.

  No, not again.

  His heart pounded fast and sweat bloomed all over him by the time he reached the end of the Memorial Garden walkway. He leapt up the Temple steps, taking three at a time, his boots cracking against the stone.

  Varian stumbled to a halt in the open Temple doorway, catching himself on the wooden supports. He stood there, shaking, as two young acolytes looked up from cleaning the floor. Neither commented as he headed along the covered walkway paralleling the Temple. It led to the dormitories and Kymora’s apartment.

  Fear ate at him, hard and vivid, the closer he drew to her door. Her two Light Blade guards stood in the corridor, a short distance from her apartment. Lisella’s abused throat flashed in his mind. Instinct screamed that he was putting Kymora in danger. In just a heartbeat, he could very well turn on her, too. He’d come too close once already to hurting her, and now he stood poised on the edge of a very high cliff. It wouldn’t take much to make him tumble over.

  Mother of Mercy, how he wished he could exorcise his darker half. Banish it, bury it, cut it out. He’d give up his colored eyes, his body markings, his enhanced senses and strength, everything he liked about being Na’Chi, if he could just be rid of it. All it seemed to do was grow stronger and hurt those he cared about.

  As he passed the Light Blades, he nodded a response to their greetings, unable to voice a reply. He halted in front of the apartment door. He placed his hand, then his forehead on the rough panels. The odor of wood and Keri-blossom incense, Kymora’s favorite scent, assailed his nostrils. It was wholesome, clean, much like her.

  He breathed in deeply, trying to capture a little part of her for himself, trying to reconstruct the sense of peace he felt when with her. Just thinking about it sparked a craving as strong as the battle rush heating his veins.

  His gut twisted. The truth was that peace would never be his. Not permanently. Darkness held him. Now it almost controlled him. He feared himself and what he was capable of doing. How could he put Kymora at risk?

  His heart constricted. He wanted her. It was that simple. She brought him happiness and light. She showered him with her smiles, addicted him to them like a blood-slave to his mistress’s blood. She saw him as a friend, a companion, and lover. Unscarred. Whole. Desirable on so many levels. She made him feel complete. Worthy of so much more than he deserved.

  More truths.

  But despite that mutual attraction, what right did it give him to endanger her? How did he deserve her when that thing lived inside him?

  Varian shut his eyes. The sound forced from his throat was too unpleasant to be a laugh and too abrasive to be a gasp. He dropped his hand to his side.

  It didn’t matter how much he wanted everything she offered him. He cared too much for her to take the risk. He’d rather die with Jole’s dagger planted in his chest than jeopardize Kymora’s life.

  Chapter 32

  THE door to the apartment opened and Kymora stood there. Even dressed in her Temple robe, she took his breath away. Her expression was relaxed, calm, and the smallest of smiles curved her full lips. She smelled like a garden full of flowers, the floral fragrance light and sweet. Meditating. She’d been burning incense and meditating.

  Varian frowned. Then how had she known someone was at her door? He fisted a hand, keeping his curse to himself. Had she sensed his emotions? Lady knew they had to be pouring off him. He was too rattled to care or feel frustrated by his lack of control.

  “Varian?” Her soft, melodic voice sent a shudder through him. The warmth and welcome in it felt like a balm, soothing some of the rawness inside of him. “Come in.”

  She stepped back, opening the door wider, and motioned him into her apartment. He remained on the threshold. Her common room was simply furnished, a table and chairs sanded but not painted, a braided rug spread on the floor, a padded chair near the fireplace, a small prayer niche set into one wall. A stick of incense still burned there. Neat, full of textures and warmth. It suited her.

  “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” The roughness in his tone should have been warning enough.

  Her head cocked to one side, her expression contemplative half a heartbeat before she stepped toward him. He stiffened as her outstretched hand made contact with his side. Slende
r fingers skimmed his leather vest, then her arms slid under it and she embraced him.

  His throat squeezed tight and he opened his mouth to warn her again, but all that came from him was a ragged gasp that quickly turned into a series of uneven, lung-shuddering breaths. He stood as she hugged him, not moving, fearing and waiting for the darkness to surge and take control.

  But all he could feel was her. Her hold wasn’t tight, but every soft curve she possessed pressed against his torso. Her arms looped loosely around his waist and her palms were flat against his lower back. As he looked down at her, she placed her cheek against his collarbone, and the top of her dark-haired head brushed against his jaw.

  “Do you know this is the first time you’ve sought me out after coming back from patrol?” she asked. “I’d really like it if you’d come inside and visit.”

  With two simple sentences, a profound sense of comfort washed through him. Lightness and warmth. Until his body relaxed, he never even realized just how tense he was. He caught himself, one arm reaching out to lean against the door frame, the other wrapping around her.

  Kymora tightened her hold on Varian as his body sagged, taking some of his weight even though he caught himself against the jam of the doorway. His every breath juddered in and out of his lungs, sounding like a winded war-beast, only she knew the force of his emotions drove him, not exhaustion. His muscles trembled and his whole body quaked with whatever was tearing him up inside.

  The strength of them had alerted her to the fact he was outside her apartment to begin with. The raw blanket of pain that bled from him like hearts-blood, rich and thick and uncontrollable, covered a wealth of other emotions, ones so tangled and twisted she had no chance of sensing what they were. Not yet. He needed a little distance and time before dealing with what had brought him to her.

  She was surprised to be able to identify any of what he was feeling. Was it because he’d come to her, needing her help? An active participant in a resolution session was easier to read than an uncooperative one. Whatever the case, this time she wouldn’t be going in blind.

  Kymora lifted her head from his shoulder. “Come inside, please, Varian.”

  With gentle coaxing, she brought him into her apartment, closed the door behind them, and headed straight for her bathing room. Nudging the arm she had wrapped around him, slung over his shoulder, was his travel pouch. Judging by the bulge, it had a change of clothes inside.

  “If you’re anything like Kalan, the first thing he likes to indulge in once he comes off patrol is a bath.” She kept her tone deliberately light. “He swears that it takes a good hour of soaking to get rid of the musky odor of war-beasts on his skin. A poor excuse when I know he’s always been partial to hot water and a long bath.”

  Varian said nothing, not even when she stopped at the edge of the pool and began unlacing his vest. His breathing had eased and he no longer trembled so violently. His aura held the dull edge of numbness, like he’d reached the end of his strength.

  Or the eye of the storm.

  As she slipped the vest from his arms, she grasped his hands. His skin was cold to the touch.

  “Unbuckle your weapons belt and give it to me.” She kept her voice soft but firm. “Just leave your clothes on the floor and get into the water.”

  As she hung his belt and vest on the wall, he complied with her instruction. For the next quarter of an hour, she talked about her day, alternating between just chatting and passing him a cleaning cloth and soap-sand. When he was ready, she handed him a towel, then rifled through his travel pouch to find clean clothes.

  “While you’re drying, I might send to the kitchen for some geefan blood.” She pulled a rolled-up ball of material out of the pouch. A quick shake and she knew she held a shirt, the light scent of herbal wash lingering in the fabric. She held it out to him. “I’m assuming you’re hungry?”

  Varian’s hand closed over hers, but he didn’t take the shirt. A faint tremor shook his fingers as his aura flashed with dark heat. The intensity of it startled a gasp out of her.

  “Kymora…” His voice broke on her name, a heart-wrenching half groan, half grating sob. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

  “Why not?”

  “I attacked Lisella.” His tone was flat, emotionless, but his aura lit up again like a log thrown on embers. Through the contact she had with his hand, a wave of guilt and regret closely followed by horror and disgust swamped her.

  Her heart picked up speed with his admission as she fought to keep her reaction from showing on her face. “Is she all right?”

  “I almost killed her.” His voice sounded like gravel grinding against itself. “Jole stopped me but I hurt her.”

  His breath caught in a strangled hiccup as he pulled his hand away from hers and left her holding the shirt. “Varian?” He didn’t reply. She tilted her head, listening. There it was again, the muffled hiccup. “Varian?”

  Kymora moved toward the sound. Her foot nudged warm flesh. She reached out and found the top of Varian’s head at waist level. His head was bowed, the bare curve of one shoulder and arm cradling it.

  She dropped to her knees beside his huddled form and wrapped her arms around him again. Silent now, his shoulders quivered in telling jerky movements.

  Merciful Mother, he was crying.

  Kymora’s throat closed over and tears burned in her eyes. Lady knew what it cost him to open up to her like that, but his courage brought a shaky smile to her lips. She pressed her cheek against his damp hair and just held him.

  If Jole had stopped him, he’d done enough to save Lisella and bring Varian out of the effects of battle rush. The exact details could wait.

  “Lisella’s all right,” she murmured. “You wouldn’t be here if she weren’t.” Thank the Lady for Her mercy as she had little doubt Varian would be in chains or dead if he’d killed her. “That’s all that matters.”

  “I can’t… control it… anymore.” Every word sounded torn from his soul. “It’s inside me… waiting… in the darkness…. It’s like a parasite.… It just burrows deeper, growing bigger, poisoning me…. I can’t stop it…. I tried….”

  Kymora hugged him harder. Like a dam bursting, the words just poured out of him. She wasn’t sure if he realized what he was saying, but as she listened, much of what he revealed gave her a very clear picture of everything she’d ever felt or sensed in him.

  He saw himself as two separate identities. Varian, leader of the Na’Chi, and the beast, the thing threatening to take over the man. Anger heated his words, his muscles tight with frustrated rage that he couldn’t control that part of himself. Impotent fury rode beside the fear as he believed he’d succumb to the part of him he saw as dark and evil. Despair interlocked all of it because he thought himself beyond forgiveness or redemption. All for being who and what he was. For what he’d done and everything he feared he would do.

  Warm tears tracked down her cheeks, but she refused to let go of him to wipe them from her face. His outpouring filled her with hope, as painful as it was to listen to. He’d come to her. He’d fought against everything from his past to share his fears with her, a dual gift of giving her his trust and baring his soul.

  Kymora traced the bowed curve of his head, the soft dampness of his hair sliding over her fingers. He shifted under her touch, the muscles of his shoulders and arms bunching with tension. His aura was brittle with shock, and shame bled through the cracks. He tried to pull away from her, but she refused to release him.

  “You’d deny me the pleasure of comforting a friend by pulling away,” she said, softly. “Do you truly believe I’d let you face this alone?”

  Did he expect her to abandon him when he needed her the most? The thought slashed at her heart like a blade. That it hurt so much drew her up short. Then she blinked, a slow, deliberate motion that gave her time to digest the impact of what it meant.

  She loved him. Her heart beat harder. Part of her balked in surprise; another part accepted it with a sense of rightness and
joy.

  Varian made a small sound in the back of his throat, and something flickered through his aura. With her focus torn between her realization and him, she almost didn’t catch it. As exciting as her insight was, analyzing what she felt would have to wait.

  “You’re not weak, Varian.”

  She moved so she was kneeling in front of him instead of beside, so he could see her face. This time she wanted him to see her expression. Water on the floor soaked into the folds of her dress, but she ignored it. She reached up to caress the side of his face.

  Lady of Light, be merciful and generous, steady my thoughts and guide me in my Journey. A Journey perhaps now she understood more clearly.

  “This jaw doesn’t belong to a weak man.” She trailed a hand over his shoulder and along his arm. “Nor does this strong arm, or these capable hands.” She pressed her palm to the center of his bare chest. “Beneath this warm flesh beats the heart of a compassionate man, one who’s fought his whole life to fulfill his people’s dream. Just because you feel the need to lean on someone, to accept someone else’s strength for a little while, doesn’t make you weak.”

  Varian’s chest rose on a sharp breath. She placed her fingers over his lips.

  “You’ve always looked out and cared for others. Even me when I needed it.” The night spent in the cave after the rebel attack on the Na’Chi village was vivid. Kymora leaned forward and brushed her lips over his brow. “Please, I need to take care of you.”

  Kymora held her breath. She was asking for more of his trust, pushing him. She swallowed against a dry throat. The hand that stroked his stubble-rough cheek trembled.

  The fierce tenderness on Kymora’s face held Varian transfixed. While her lashes were wet with recently shed tears, the warmth in her emerald gaze wrapped around him like a blanket, soft and comforting. It was there, he could feel it, the tranquility he’d craved while standing outside her door.

  Something stirred deep inside him, expanding, heating fast. His heart jolted and he stiffened, afraid that somehow he’d triggered the darkness to rise. But the rush never eventuated and the heat settled in his chest and infiltrated his heart.