Sundered

by Bethany Adams

  Of course they did. Meli was coming to realize that Moranaians took their trees quite seriously.

  They ducked into a shelter tucked between three massive limbs. Lyr scooted to the side, his legs stretched before him, as Meli settled next to him. Though she was out of breath, the view she earned was more than worth it. She could see beyond the patch of fields to more hills in the distance. At the base of one, the moonlight glimmered silver, revealing a lake.

  Lyr sighed, a content sound, and leaned back on his hands. The shelter was just large enough to hold them and maybe one other person, and they were so far up in the trees they could have been alone in the world. Perhaps she should have been alarmed, since she barely knew him, but he had no reason to hurt her. He could have sent her back to Alfheim if he’d wanted to do that.

  “Worth the climb?” Lyr asked, his voice resounding pleasantly in the small space.

  She smiled over at him. “Absolutely.”

  The first drops of rain pattered against the roof and dipped the leaves outside the shelter. But Meli was more curious about him. “Do you like it here? Do you like your place as lord?”

  “I do. Mostly.” Lyr leaned forward, his expression turning serious. “Though I would rather not be Myern, for it meant my father’s early death.”

  “How terrible. I’m sorry I mentioned it.”

  Lyr took her hand. “Don’t be. I wanted us to get to know one another. He was murdered over twenty years ago, the reason I rushed back from Earth without Arlyn’s mother. I never knew I left a daughter behind.”

  “Arlyn told me a little of the story.” Meli nudged him, trying to lighten the mood. “This has not been a good half-century for you.”

  “No,” he answered, though with a laugh. “But overall worth it.”

  They leaned against one another in companionable silence as the rain pounded out a symphony. “Would you tell me more about the bond?” Meli finally asked. “What is it? How is it formed?”

  “You told me you have soul companions.” Lyr’s forehead wrinkled in thought. “I suppose it is a formal linking of that. First, there’s an exchange of pendants. There are words that can activate them before given, but intent can also work. Finally, there is physical union.”

  Horrified, Meli pulled back to look at him. “You have to wait until soulbonding for physical intimacy in this world?”

  “Gods, no,” Lyr choked out around his laughter. “We’d be mad, for soulbonds are not very common. But it does act to solidify a bonding once the process has begun.”

  “Thank goodness,” she breathed.

  One side of his mouth quirked up. “I’d assumed the Ljósálfar were much stricter about such things.”

  “Yes and no.” Meli grimaced, trying to find the words to explain. “We may join with whomever we wish. But that act of joining is no small thing. Our bodies are our dominion, so it is considered an honor to share that body. It is why Lady Teronver’s insult was a grave one.”

  “I’ll be glad to see the back of her.”

  She nudged him again. “As will I.”

  The feel of his skin pressed to hers, even in that innocent contact, caused her heart to race. Meli had never understood soul companions until she’d touched him. “So are males in charge of bonding?”

  “Not really. Either of a couple might begin the process.” She could hear the smile enter his voice. “Though it’s usually whoever rushes to it first. Soulbonds are rare and valued—and they’ve been known to make fools of many. When Kai first met Arlyn, he was so afraid he would lose her that he began the bond without her even knowing. He’s fortunate that she forgave him.”

  “How were you able to resist doing the same?” she asked, careful to keep her voice measured. To keep him from hearing how much the answer meant to her.

  Lyr pulled his leg up and rested his arm on his knee, his gaze shifting to the distant valley below. “I suppose restraint is my curse.”

  Meli stilled. “Curse?”

  “I did not bond with Aimee.” His eyes met hers. “She was human, or so I thought, though she ended up having more than a bit of elven blood. I wanted to wait until I’d talked to Kai about bringing her through the Veil. I didn’t want to harm her, and humans struggle crossing through the mists since time is so much in flux.”

  For a moment, the cold mists of the Veil flowed around her again, and she winced. “Wise.”

  “Was it?” His face twisted with pain. “I had to rush away, not knowing I would be unable to return. Both Aimee and Arlyn suffered for it.”

  What could she say? Had he bonded with his first love, it would have left Meli in an awkward place. Her stomach lurched at the thought of what might have happened had she arrived to find Lyr already bonded. But to say so would be to wish his pain. “I’m sorry.”

  “All is as it should be.” Lyr tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, his expression softening. “Only on days like today do I think of the past. It doesn’t seem real to me that you’re here. I never thought to have another chance at a bond. I didn’t know it was possible.”

  The words stabbed at her. “And here I am, uncertain if I even want it.”

  He nodded, averting his gaze. His sudden isolation tore at her as surely as his pained story. What was it that drew her to him? She felt like she had always known him, like he had whispered words of love even in her dreams. There was an entire history between them that she didn’t comprehend. A pull that went beyond any she had ever known.

  The wind picked up through the trees, gusting droplets of rain through the small opening where they’d entered. So high off the ground, the air was cooler here, and as her thin gown grew damp, her teeth chattered with the cold. Meli wanted to laugh. All day, she’d been sweltering in the heat, and now she wanted nothing more than her hated robe.

  She rubbed at her arms to warm them, and Lyr glanced over at the movement, a frown pulling his brows together. “Cold?”

  “Unbelievably, yes.”

  He lifted the edge of his cloak invitingly. “Come, bundle up. We can admire the view while the rain passes. It shouldn’t be too much longer.”

  How could she resist an invitation like that?

  Meli slid the short distance between them and under his arm. Almost instantly, she warmed, in no small part because of the male beside her. He radiated heat, life, and something…some energy that meshed so perfectly with her own. She sighed and settled into him, home for the first time in memory.

  He turned his face toward hers, so close their breaths merged. “Meli? I’d like to kiss you again.”

  Chapter 24

  Lyr expected Meli to hesitate as she had before, but she didn’t. Instead, she closed the distance and brushed her lips against his. Just the barest touch, but his body hardened. Burned. He slid his hand from her shoulder and down her side, and she trembled. Then she pressed against his side and kissed him once more.

  Her sweet taste filled him, pulsing through him like blood. Lyr’s fingers tightened on her hip as desire exploded within him, the restraint he’d mentioned before gone. His free hand dove into her hair as Meli opened her mouth fully to his. And the feel of her breasts against him… Gods. A groan escaped as he plundered.

  She twisted to straddle him, and her arms wrapped around his neck. His hands wandered up her spine and then down her waist until he gripped her hips. If she kept moving against him, he would lose all control. Lyr bent his head to trail his mouth along her throat, and her panting gasps echoed in the tiny shelter.

  All fear of offending her faded from Lyr’s mind, but he hesitated before his palms slid up to cup her breasts. Meli caught his gaze as her lips curved into a smile. “Stop worrying. I offer permission.”

  Lyr needed nothing more. Their lips met again, volatile, as he lowered her to the floor of the shelter. She gripped the edges of his cloak for a moment before her own hands started to roam. As his fingers teased at the bottom of her short robe, she began to tug at his tunic. Clechtan, but he was going to go mad.


  Lyr sat up, searching for the cloak’s clasp. He wanted to shed his clothes, the better to be close to her. As close as she would let him get. He fumbled with the metal closure for a moment and then sighed with relief when it fell free. He shrugged the cloak off, the tunic following, before returning to Meli once more. Her mouth was better than any wine.

  “LYR!”

  The contact blasted through his mind, the pain instant and searing. He jerked upright with a strangled cry and then rolled to his back. Blindly, he shoved his fingers against his temples. He hardly noticed Meli’s hand on his shoulder as he struggled to control the agony. “What’s wrong?”

  “Lial. Mind blast,” Lyr whispered.

  He had no idea what she thought of his explanation, for the healer’s next words brought a fresh wave of pain. “WHERE ARE YOU?”

  “For the love of all the gods, TONE IT DOWN,” Lyr sent back with force of his own, letting the full scope of his agony filter through.

  There was a moment’s silence before shocked regret flowed through the link. “Forgive me, Lyr. I didn’t mean to cause you pain. I’ve been searching for you for over an hour.”

  With the healer’s words, a bit of soothing flowed in. Not much, but it was enough to help Lyr think. “I’ve been on a hike. Lady Selia is having me test a new cloak.”

  “Did the damn thing wipe you out of existence?”

  “What?” Lyr sent back.

  He let his eyes slit open, though he continued to rub his temples, and relaxed when no new pain resulted. Meli’s face glowed pale in the dim moonlight as she leaned over him, and he struggled to form an explanation. “Lial contacted me telepathically. And rather forcefully.”

  Her breath hissed out in a relieved sigh, and Lyr’s gaze shifted to her mouth. He wanted to return to kissing her, but the healer’s voice broke through again. “You disappeared. Gone from the estate key. Gone from our senses. If Kai had better range, you’d be hearing worse.”

  Though he wanted to kill Lial in that moment, he had to smile at the assessment. “I’ve no doubt. You can assure him that I am well. I might have been more than well if not for your untimely interruption.”

  “Ah…my apologies.” The healer hesitated. “But there is much unresolved with the Neorans. You wanted my report when I could get away.”

  Lyr bit back the string of curses that flowed through his mind. Work. Ever work. “I will return as soon as possible. At least Selia can rest assured that her cloak does a fine job of muffling my energy.”

  “That it does.”

  Sighing, Lyr rubbed a hand across his face. Remnants of pain pulsed between his temples, and his good humor was gone. “Forgive me, Meli. Lial has news to report, and I fear the estate, or at least Kai, is in an uproar. The cloak worked better than expected. They thought I’d disappeared until I shrugged it off.”

  Her eyes widened. Then she surprised him with a laugh. “Too bad we didn’t keep them waiting longer.”

  “You’re certain you aren’t offended? I moved faster than I’d meant.”

  Meli rolled her eyes. “I gave you permission.”

  “True. I suppose I am uncertain of such things since I don’t know your customs.” Bemused, he pulled his tunic back on and shrugged into the cloak, though he kept the hood lowered. “Maybe you could tell me more about Alfheim.”

  She moved to the door and then twisted, lowering herself down the rungs one careful step at a time. “Certainly.”

  It took longer to descend the trunk than it had to climb it, as it was slippery after the rain. Lyr worried that he should have gone first, as Meli did not seem familiar with climbing trees in any weather, but she moved down steadily. When he dropped down beside her, she was already reaching for the heavy robe she usually wore.

  “Ah, Freyr,” she muttered, holding the cloth away from her body. “The whole thing is soaked. I should have thought to take it up with me.”

  Lyr eyed the thin cloth of her underdress and could find no reason to agree. Still, it would be rude of him not to offer aid. “I can dry it. Here.”

  It was a short spell, one learned when he’d first started camping as a boy. Within a moment, he held out a perfectly dried gown. Meli took it almost hesitantly, stared at it, and then draped it over her shoulder. “Thank you. I think I’ll wait until we get closer to wear it. It’s so much hotter down here.”

  Lyr grinned. He wasn’t going to argue with that. Taking her hand once more, Lyr led her back the way they’d come. The air was thick with moisture from the rain, the smell of wet earth strong, but he hardly paid it attention. He listened to her voice as she described the world of her birth, the words painting images in his mind. How could they bear cold stone over the life of the forest?

  It pained him that she had struggled in her life there, though her family was loving. He’d always known the Ljósálfar were fairly inflexible and that they considered the other fae races lacking. He hadn’t realized that some of their own people were treated the same. On Moranaia, whatever talent one possessed was welcome if it brought greater good. But Alfheim required one fit into a smaller mold.

  “Does everyone have to be a mage?” Lyr asked.

  “No.” Meli grimaced. “Those with fighting skills can become warriors or guardians. Some do well at a trade, like making furniture or growing food—all magically assisted. There are those like the ambassador who are skilled with words. The least talented are often assistants, using their meager skills as best they can. And the untalented, like me—”

  Lyr halted, unable to resist caressing her cheek. “You are not untalented.”

  Her eyes went soft, but she shook her head. “To the Ljósálfar, I am. I’d be the lowest of servants if I returned.”

  “Remind me that I don’t need a war,” Lyr bit out. “Not in the middle of this.”

  Meli merely laughed. Then she grabbed his wrist and tugged him forward. “I thought restraint was your curse. Perhaps it is honor.”

  “The last turn of the moon would strain the greatest discipline,” he muttered.

  She gave a teasing grin. “So it would.”

  After escorting Meli to the base of her tower, Lyr strode toward his study where he sensed the others waiting. It was interesting that Kai, Arlyn, and Lial couldn’t detect him through the estate key, for he could still access it with no difficulties. Selia’s spell must have been a powerful one considering she herself didn’t have the key. Well, formally at least. She had worked with both him and Arlyn on strengthening Braelyn’s ancient defenses.

  As soon as the door opened, Kai shot to his feet. “That was a cruel trick.”

  Lyr stopped short, surprised. “What are you talking about?”

  “After a day filled with corpses, it was no small matter to think you dead.”

  Understanding washed over him. Though Lyr was several years older, Kai had grown protective ever since Lyr had lost Aimee. But then, it was always wise to watch someone in power who had lost a soulbond. “It was no trick, but I’m sorry nonetheless. I had no idea the cloak would have such an effect. I did tell Selia when I left.”

  “I haven’t seen her.” Kai sank into his seat and ran a hand through his hair. “Arlyn said she didn’t think you were dead, but…”

  Lyr winced. After his friend’s earlier report, he could imagine what Kai had visualized. “I should have told you. I decided to show Meli the forest and gave leaving no thought. I’ve roamed at will for centuries, after all.”

  “Perhaps.” Lial pushed away from where he’d been leaning on the front of the desk. “But you also gave no thought to the current crisis.”

  Though Lyr should have been embarrassed by the reprimand, he wasn’t. He refused to regret the time he’d taken with Meli. “If I’d known mental communication couldn’t get through, I’d have warned you. Meli could speak with me, so I assumed others could also.”

  “I thought I could sense you somewhat, too,” Arlyn spoke up from the chair next to Kai. “Not clearly, but enough not to panic. Even as you
stand before me, it’s just a hint.”

  He was still wearing the cloak. Lyr unclasped it—an easier task in the clear light—and draped it across a chair before stepping away. “Now?”

  “Much better,” Arlyn answered, relaxing. Lial and Kai nodded.

  Lyr dropped into the seat behind his desk. “Though it certainly has its uses, I’ll have to see if Selia can adjust the spell. Those keyed into the estate should be able to speak to me at the least. But why didn’t you contact me, Arlyn?”

  She lifted her hands. “I tried, but every time I almost reached you, you seemed to flicker out of range. I’m still learning how to connect.”

  “We’ll work on it.” Lyr rubbed his temples where a faint ache from the healer’s mental blast still resided. “I’d certainly rather Lial not contact me again for some time.”

  “I sent my call wide and quick,” Lial said as he walked around the desk. Though often biting in his humor, Lial was a healer to his core. True regret haunted his eyes at the pain he’d caused. “I gave little thought to my own strength.”

  The healer reached out, his energy sparking to life before Lyr could protest. A few breaths, and the pain was gone. “You should save your strength for the Neorans.”

  Shrugging, Lial stepped back. “I’ll be heading to my room to rest after this, as there isn’t much more I can do for them tonight. There was no sign of the poisoned energy in any of the survivors, and their physical injuries are stable.”

  “Wait.” Lyr shook his head. “The poison is just…gone?”

  “As though the Veil washed them clean,” Lial answered. “But their minds are in terrible shape. Magical pathways blown open or bleeding. Other, more mundane sections of the brain in tatters. It’s no wonder so many are insane.”

  “Can you heal them?”

  Lial nodded. “It will be a slow process, but I believe so. Ralan’s pathways were similar after his contact with the poison on Earth, and I repaired that damage.”

  The door clicked open, and Selia entered, Lynia shuffling in behind. Lyr froze, reminded of the others’ cloak-induced panic, but his mother’s face held nothing but concentration. He eased back in his seat as she smiled up at him. “I was speaking to Selia when you disappeared. She explained what happened,” his mother clarified before he could ask.