Birthright (The Stone Legacy Series Book 5)

by Theresa Dalayne

  He skated his fingers through the tips of her hair. “You’re tired, I know. I am too.”

  She examined him again, more carefully this time. The thin lines in his forehead were creased, and dark circles shadowed the skin above his cheekbones. She tilted her head, suddenly hyper-aware of what a grouch she was being. “You’re the one who should be tired. You haven’t slept all night.” She laced her fingers between his. “You need to get some rest.”

  “I can’t. Not until I see it.”

  “See…your home.” It came out very matter-of-factly.

  “Yes. The home I grew up in.”

  Whoa. That changed things. She bit the inside of her cheek. Sleep and a hot shower could wait, but breakfast couldn’t. “We grab something to eat, and then we leave.”

  He frowned. “No. You need to rest. We can find a hotel and—”

  “No good.” She pulled her hand back and brought them both back to her lap. “We leave now.” His eyes lit up. “On the next flight.” She waited a moment, and then waved him forward. “What are you waiting for? Drive.”

  He grinned and pressed his foot harder on the gas, thrusting them toward the signs pointing to the airport.

  After grabbing a bite at a drive-through, Zanya was coherent enough to travel. They used Arwan’s bank card—which was apparently tied to a hefty inheritance—to book their tickets, and they’d left the “borrowed” car in short term parking. It’d be towed when nobody came back for it, solving that issue.

  She was getting used to hopping around from one city to the next, and had even learned to ignore the sensation of her stomach lurching into her throat through takeoff and landing.

  The two connecting flights to Mexico went smoothly enough with little sleep and nothing but the clothes on her back. When they made it, they flagged a cab, and soon were on their way…home.

  Zanya watched Arwan in the back seat of the taxi. He tilted his phone side to side with a compass app open. The digital dial bobbed side to side before settling in one direction.

  “Didn’t Renato send you the address?”

  “There is no address. Just a latitude and longitude. We’ll have to hike there once the cab drops us off.”

  “More camping. Perfect.” The last time they slept in the jungle, they were going to the caves of Naj Tunich, and Balam nearly scared them to death by stalking them the entire way. Not to mention the bugs. The hairs on Zanya’s arms stood on end.

  Arwan pulled her against him, pressing a kiss on her temple. “Thank you for doing this for me.” His hot breath rolled down her neck, making her skin flicker with electricity. The cabby glanced in the rear view mirror, but didn’t seem to be paying attention to much more than the Latin music carrying through the speakers. Thankfully, she’d learned how to control her abilities and could smother the occasional outburst of her powers when they popped up.

  She rested her head on his shoulder and drew in a deep breath, inhaling his warm, musky scent. They were bonded now. His history was her history. His future was hers too. They were in this together, no matter what.

  “We’ll stop by a sporting goods store before we head out there. We’ll gather some supplies and a tent.”

  Zanya nodded, though her nodding gradually stopped. “A tent? As in…one?”

  “We don’t need two. It would be more to carry, and the terrain won’t be easy.”

  “We didn’t have tents last time we camped.”

  “It was the dry season. This time we should expect rain. A lot of it.”

  Her body rushed with a sick heat. It’s not like they’d never slept beside each other before. They had in the coffin house in Victorian London, and again when they traveled together to the entrance of the underworld to retrieve Jayden’s soul. But it was different. In both cases, someone was around. In the coffin house, the English security guard made his rounds every few minutes, and while camping, Balam and Cualli were always close by.

  Now they would be alone, and there would be…expectations.

  She slouched in her seat. Her stone buzzed, blanketing her with a sense of comfort. She ran her fingers over the leather pouch on her wrist where her stone was tucked away.

  As the Stone Guardian, she was strong, fast, could conjure fire and wind, heal, and even use telepathic manipulation like Marzena. She could do it all…if she only knew how. Training had only gotten her so far. If she’d learned one thing, it was that having the capability to do something and actually being able to do it were two different things. She needed to be instructed by someone who had mastered the skill, and then she would have to practice.

  Until then, she’d have to agree to the one-tent thing. Otherwise the pack would be too heavy, until she learned how to utilize Renato’s strength ability, at least. Hopefully it wouldn’t be as exhausting as the wind conjuring ability. Some powers took more of a toll on her than others.

  Zanya pursed her lips, making a mental note to put training on the top of her to-do list.

  A few hours later, the cab pulled to a stop in the parking lot of a store. Arwan leaned forward into the midday sun beaming through the windows, and said something in Spanish before pushing open the door and stepping out of the cab. She followed him onto the paved ground and into the store, where everything they needed for a hike into the Mexican jungle sat on shelves and hung on shiny silver hooks with bright yellow price tags.

  Zanya grabbed some clothes, travel size toiletries, a portable water filter, hiking boots, and a handful of other necessities.

  After checking out, she crouched in the corner, filing everything into her pack as quickly as possible. Arwan dropped his pack beside her and did the same. While he worked, strands of dark hair hung in his face and his muscles bulged under the tightly fitted black tee.

  “This reminds me of when we hiked to the caves.”

  His smoky eyes met her gaze. “Minus the dressing room.”

  Heat spread over her cheeks. “Right. Minus that.”

  “Right.” The corner of his lip turned into a grin.

  Her flush deepened, and she forced her focus away from his sharp cheekbones and olive skin to the cool, smooth flint stone in her hand.

  Arwan zipped up his pack and threw it over his shoulder with little effort, even though the thing must have weighed a hundred pounds. “Ready?”

  She stood, slipped the pack onto her back, and nodded. “I’m ready.” Before he turned toward the front door, she took his hand. “Hey.” She bit her bottom lip. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

  He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss on her knuckles. “Don’t worry.”

  “I just know it’s a lot for you to wrap your mind around, that’s all.”

  “No, I meant about the tent—about us. Don’t worry, I won’t push.”

  Chapter Three

  Arwan

  Once the cab dropped them off at the edge of the jungle, Arwan pointed his phone left while analyzing the map. Northeast was the quickest route as long as they didn’t run into any obstacles that would force them to detour.

  From what he could tell by the coordinates of the home, it was hidden deep in the jungle, away from most villages and far from any big cities. It stood out there, all alone, just how his mother intended it to be.

  Zanya lifted her backpack off the ground and fitted the straps around her. Once she’d adjusted the sternum strap and hip belt, she gathered her hair on top of her head and tied it into a messy bun. “Okay.” She slipped an aerosol can out of the side pocket and sprayed her arms. Mist floated through the air. The pungent scent burned his nostrils. He turned his head.

  Since the bonding ceremony, his senses had been even more heightened. He always had the ability to hear the change in Zanya’s heartbeat or smell the light odor of her sweat when she hiked beside him. But now, everything was sharper and more focused. It had to be the effect of the bonding. That, or the fact the beast had been awakened inside of him.

  “Are you ready?” She secured her raincoat in a knot around her wai
st. “You lead the way.” She held out her hand, encouraging him forward.

  He laid his hand on the hilt of the machete strapped to his side and pivoted toward the game trail leading into the thick, winding foliage. Dozens of shades of green shimmered in the afternoon sun that speckled the jungle ground with light. Colorful flowers and delicate baby ferns reached up from the mossy earth, surrounded by glistening rocks slick from the morning dew.

  The jungle was a mysterious place. He hadn’t spent much time in Mexico, which made these jungles even more unpredictable. It meant keeping a close eye out for anything out of the ordinary and never letting his guard down. He withdrew the machete and took his first swing at the overgrowth.

  Hours later, they’d kept a steady pace, sometimes being forced to veer off one game trail only to fight through thick overgrowth. The wet season had brought with it thick, goopy mud, making every step laborious.

  Zanya’s quickened breaths caught his ear. He braced his hand on a half-dead tree branch beside him. “Do you need to stop?”

  She wiped sweat off of her forehead and fanned her flushed face. “This is way different than the other times we were in the jungle.”

  “This area is more like marshland.”

  “And it stinks.” She covered her nose with her forearm, stealing several deep breaths through her mouth. “What is that?”

  He analyzed the mixture of strange smells. The back of his throat closed, and he couldn’t help but cough. “Decaying plant matter, I think. Rotting fruit.” The branches above them rattled, and the distant scream of monkeys echoed through the trees. “Monkey scat.”

  “Yeah, that’s gross. Let’s get out of here as quickly as possible. I’d prefer not to be sliding around in monkey poo if I can help it.”

  He poised the machete in front of him. “I couldn’t agree more.” With a few more swings, they were out of the thick patch with endless wetlands ahead. Arwan paused and looked back at Zanya. “Let me go ahead. I’ll clear the next few yards and you can follow me.”

  Zanya propped her pack against a tree, her chest heaving with every breath. “You know, it’s not the weight of the pack or the mud that’s bothering me as much as the humidity and the disgusting stench.” She swatted at the air in front of her. “And the flies.”

  A streak of guilt ran through him. He should have made this journey alone.

  Her eyes narrowed and she pointed at him. “Don’t even think that. I’m glad I’m here. Ignore my complaining. I’m just being a big baby.”

  He cocked his head. “How do you know what I’m thinking?”

  “You give the same pitiful stare every time you feel bad about something. So knock it off and go clear some creepy jungle vines so we can keep going.” She winked.

  ***

  Zanya

  The last few feet of mucky, gross, sloppy, stinky jungle wetlands were enough to suck every ounce of strength from her legs and land her on her ass on the jungle floor.

  But at least it was dry jungle floor.

  She could deal with that.

  “Can we stop soon?” she panted.

  He pointed up a steep hill where a cluster of trees grew out of the sloped, grassy angles. “As soon as we make it up there.”

  She perched her hands on her hips, scaling the near forty-five-degree angle straight up, leading to a stone structure buried in thick foliage. “Is that a ruin?”

  “A small one, but it’ll give us some cover.”

  First the marshland, and then a small mountain. Fantastic.

  “Don’t worry. It’s just so we are away from the wetland.” He peered up at the sky. “Trust me, you’ll be happy for the shelter.”

  She pushed flyaway hairs away from her face and nodded. “Okay, then. Let’s do this.”

  After a vigorous hike up the rocky terrain, Zanya clawed her way the last few steps—victorious. She groaned and slipped off her backpack, then collapsed to the ground by the ruin and let her hands splay to the sides. “Oh. My. God.” She turned her head to look at Arwan, and lost her breath at the sight of him stripping off his t-shirt and slinging it over his shoulder. His muscles bulged with every movement, his skin shimmering with a thin layer of sweat.

  He took a few gulps of water from his camel pack and slicked his hair back with his fingers. “This trip has already been more difficult than I anticipated. It’s as if my mother wanted to stay hidden.”

  Zanya watched him for a moment before pushing onto her forearms. “Even if your mother was trying to hide, that doesn’t mean she was trying to hide you.”

  He held her gaze for a moment longer, and then gave a soft smile. “Maybe.” He went back to digging through his bag.

  She lay back on the grass and rolled onto her side, resting her cheek in the palm of her hand. “Besides, look at the bright side. I could have used my transporting ability like Hawa and left you in the dust if I really wanted to.”

  He smiled—a brilliant white smile this time—and let out a low, quiet laugh. “I know you could. Thanks for waiting around for me.”

  “You can show me your gratitude by setting up camp.” No more hiking for the day would be a fine reward.

  “Is that all?” He yanked a tightly rolled tarp from his pack, followed by a bundle of poles. “Consider it done.” He leaned against the aged stone structure and pulled out more supplies, stacking them on the lowest step of the Mayan ruin.

  Surprisingly, the sight of the tent didn’t grip her chest.

  She tilted her face, staring at the canopy of green and wavering leaves with streaks of blue peeking through the branches. Now that they were out of the swampland, it was all uphill from there. Literally. Tomorrow was going to be a death march. They were headed up the worst side of a mountain, studded with rocks and riddled with possible dangers. She dragged her fingers along the dry ground, finding a tiny green vine reaching out from the thick plants.

  She coiled the vine around her finger before tugging on it gently, then letting it spring back.

  The small gesture reminded her of the times Peter, their healer, would play with her best friend’s curls. Zanya frowned. She’d left Tara behind a second time. What kind of friend was she?

  A gentle pull on her finger brought her back to the moment. She turned her head to see the tiny, beautiful vine reach out to the mid-afternoon sun. Its velvety texture hugged tighter, as if it were acknowledging her presence.

  The coil tightened, and the tip pricked her skin, drawing a single plump drop of scarlet blood.

  “Ouch.” She pulled back her hand and sucked on her fingertip.

  “I’m almost finished with the tent.” Arwan’s voice stole her attention away from the vicious plant. “Do you want to collect some firewood? Almost everything will be wet, but if you stay under the trees, there should be some dry kindling.”

  “Um…sure.” She looked at her finger, now with just a tiny red blemish. She’d better be careful while searching for firewood. The plants around here were carnivorous.

  Against the protest of every aching muscle, she pushed to her feet. A cool wind wove through the trees, rattling the branches and showering her in leaves.

  “Change of plans.” She glanced back at Arwan, whose face was tilted to the sky. “It looks like the rain will be here sooner than I thought. The ruin will shield us from the wind on one side, but the trees will only give us so much cover from the rain.”

  “I thought the whole point of being up here was so we had cover.”

  “Yes.” He drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes. “But this storm isn’t going to be just rain.”

  “How do you know?” She searched the blue sky and grayish clouds overhead. Sure, it was overcast, but it didn’t exactly scream torrential downpour.

  He opened his eyes. “I can smell the rain in the air and feel the electrical charge building in the atmosphere.” He ran his hand down the length of his arm. If she didn’t pay attention, she wouldn’t have noticed his hairs standing on end. He returned to assembling the tent.
“We should get camp set up and prepare to ride it out.”

  Chapter Four

  Zanya

  In Ohio, when Zanya lived in the orphanage, rain meant the gentle tapping of water on the metal roof and a deep drink for the plants outside. However, here, in the jungles of Mexico, rain meant something entirely different.

  Inside the tent, Zanya pulled her knees to her chest, hoping the fiberglass frame and water-resistant fabric walls would stand up against the assault. As leaves smacked against the sides of their shelter—and even though she lay on top of a thick sleeping bag—she could feel the ground beneath her turning soggy while it soaked up the endless supply of water.

  Another gust of wind hit the left wall of the tent. She tucked into a tighter ball and ground her teeth. At this rate, it was possible they’d get tossed off the hillside.

  A flash of lightning and a clap of thunder made her suck in a sharp breath. She cringed at the rolling rumble as it echoed around them and then morphed into the familiar sound of the downpour. With another strike of lightning, the earth trembled as if the bolt of electricity had just missed them.

  The only perk to this whole tropical storm was it took focus off of them sharing a tent for the night.

  “Try to get some rest.” Arwan lay down, laced his fingers behind his head, and closed his eyes, as if Mother Nature’s assault had exactly zero effect on him.

  “How can you sleep through this? The marsh could rise overnight, right? I mean, what if we wake up to a flooded tent?”

  “We’re at least twenty-five feet above the marshes. Flash floods are heard of, but I doubt the water will come up that high.”

  “Oh.” She relaxed her muscles. “That’s good.” Another gust of wind battered the tent, sending a shiver up the backs of her legs. “I didn’t know it got this cold in the jungle.”

  He drew in a sleepy breath. “It’s the wet season.”

  She nodded, thankful for his exhaustion. She was tired to the bone too, and even if it was hard to sleep, she had to try. She slipped into her sleeping bag and curled into a ball. Arwan’s eyes fluttered closed as he drifted off to sleep. It seemed like he was already dreaming, though it was impossible to determine whether it was good or bad. Maybe it was about what he’d find at his mother’s home, but maybe…maybe it was about her.