Sundered

by Bethany Adams

  Her mouth fell open. “He wants to send me on an actual mission?”

  “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

  Arlyn heaved herself to her feet. What could have happened now? “Should we go to his study?”

  “No,” Kai answered. “He’ll be here any moment.”

  Heart pounding, Arlyn walked to the window, though she didn’t care about the view. When the knock came, she shoved her shoulders back to brace herself. She’d told Kai the truth when she’d said she wasn’t angry, but her emotions were jumbled. Would Lyr be awkward around her? Upset? As Kai opened the door, she spun and met her father’s eyes.

  Lyr entered with hesitant steps and stopped in the center of the room. “Are you well?”

  Her feelings solidified into one thing—love—and she found herself closing the distance between them. Peace filled her as her arms wrapped around his waist and his closed around her. Despite all of the upheaval she had gone through leaving Earth to find him, she had no regrets. Meeting her father had been worth it.

  Arlyn pulled away to smile up at him. “I’m sorry if you thought I was angry with you.”

  “I bonded with Meli even though my mind is conflicted. Even though I knew yours would be.”

  “You didn’t need my permission.” Arlyn chuckled, and she glanced at Kai. “I understand the insanity of the bond.”

  Lyr rubbed at the back of his neck. “What does it say of our life that bonding is the least of the insanity?”

  “Kai said you needed to speak to us about some kind of mission.” Her smile fell. “I get the feeling I’m not going to like it.”

  “None of us are going to like it, least of all me.”

  Arlyn gestured to a chair. “Do you want to sit?”

  “I don’t think I can.” His shoulders sagged, a sign of weariness she’d seen all too often from him of late. “Ralan said that Kien’s spell must be stopped now.”

  Kai flushed, his hands clenching and loosening as though he sought the hilt of his sword. “Does it involve retribution for the Neorans?”

  “Not directly,” Lyr answered. “I spoke with their queen a few moments ago. I have never in my life seen a ruler openly weep until this day. At least I can send her the children, as they have all been healed, and then the others in a few days’ time.”

  Kai nodded, though Arlyn could sense his pain. “So little. Hardly enough.”

  “Unfortunately,” her father said. “But if we can disrupt Kien’s spell, perhaps the effects can be reversed. If nothing else, maybe we can clear their home of the poison.”

  Arlyn took her bonded’s hand. “What do we need to do?”

  As Lyr climbed the stairs to Meli’s room, he wanted to smash his fist into a wall. Or Ralan’s face. It didn’t matter that the prince wasn’t to blame for his brother’s actions. He was to blame for the way he manipulated them all, never telling more than the barest details but expecting his orders to be obeyed. It was bad enough when he’d done it to Lyr. But now Arlyn was involved.

  Though it was unreasonable, Lyr had never wanted her to step back through the portal to Earth. Now she would be doing just that. Aside from the danger of finding the camp, dealing with the poison, and possibly encountering Kien himself, there was the chance she would want to stay. He well remembered the excitement of Earth; the humans surrounded themselves with technology more creative than any magic. Would a visit awaken a longing for her former home? She’d only lived on Moranaia for a month, after all.

  As Kai and Arlyn gathered supplies for the journey, Lyr was left adrift to worry. He’d wanted to go himself, unwilling to remain behind through one more mission, but Ralan had commanded he stay. Stay and wait for word, like a civilian hoping for a beloved warrior’s return. The mission was set. Even now, the prince spoke with Selia about the type of spell Arlyn would carry.

  Lyr hesitated outside of Meli’s door, unsure if he should disturb her. His emotions were turbulent, fury at Ralan and fear for his daughter mixing with his uncertainty about the bond. Meli needed rest, and in his current state, he could provide only upset. He would check on her when he was under better control. If she were truly ill, he would sense it along their growing bond.

  Before he could force his feet to move, the door opened. Meli stared at him with sleepy eyes. Then a small smile curved her lips. “If you’re going to wake me with your concern, at least come in and tell me what’s wrong.”

  Guilt blended with everything else. He should have tried to shield his emotions before they could pass along the bond. “I’m sorry. I’d just thought better of disturbing you and was about to go. I’ll come back.”

  “No.” She huffed out a breath. “I was only dozing, easing out of my nap. I want to know what happened.”

  His body hardened at the sight of her. Her blond hair tangled around her waist, and she wore only the underdress he’d seen in the observation tower. The late afternoon light streaming through the windows left little to his imagination. Lyr swallowed, struggling with himself a moment before forcing his gaze back to her eyes. Eyes that laughed at him.

  “I’m not sure—”

  Meli grabbed his hand and pulled, cutting off his words. “I’ve seen Moranaian women wearing less than this. Surely you aren’t scandalized.”

  That surprised a laugh out of him. “No. But the others don’t affect me the way you do.”

  True pleasure lit her face then as she closed the door. “A fine compliment, considering their beauty. Now, are you going to tell me what’s wrong? Is Arlyn still upset?”

  “Confused and hurting, but not angry,” he reassured her. “Though I hate to see her in pain, it isn’t that. Ralan commanded me to send her and Kai to Earth. Not suggested. Then I watched a queen sob as if the world had ended. And for her, I suppose it has.”

  Meli took his hand again, this time for comfort. “That’s a great deal to handle after this morning.”

  “Exactly.” His anger began to dissolve at her quiet commiseration. “I’d thrash Ralan if he hadn’t disappeared. He was with us this morning. He saw what we went through…and now this. It’s too much.”

  She wrapped her arms around his waist, much as Arlyn had earlier, but the feeling this time was completely different. As she rested her cheek on his chest, he closed his own arms around her and let himself be. Meli was a haven, her serenity a balm to his rawness. In that moment, he forgot about Aimee and the echoes of the past. He held Meli and no one else.

  Meli tipped her face up to study Lyr. His eyes were closed, and the turmoil that had surrounded him was ebbing. Her chest ached for him. And maybe a little because of him. She could sense how he worried over her past life. It should have bothered her, that life, but she was at peace with the memories for the first time ever. Her soul felt…settled. She’d never realized how split she had always been until Aimee’s remnants had merged during the spell.

  What did bother her was the others’ reactions to the revelation. Meli had no desire to be bound to a male who forever saw another woman, one he’d loved, and she feared that Arlyn would always avoid her. While she couldn’t blame her, it would make life awkward and unpleasant for them all. Could they accept Meli beyond what they knew of her soul’s past? The dread caught at her breath and held it.

  Lyr’s eyes opened, meeting hers. “What is it?”

  She exhaled in one long gust of air. “I’m not her.”

  “Wh—” he began and then stilled. The turmoil began to build in him once more, spilling into their bond. “I didn’t think you were.”

  “Are you certain? I know it is difficult.”

  His arms tightened. “It is. But I don’t see her when I’m with you. Somehow, I don’t.”

  “But our souls—”

  “Are similar, yes.” His lips twisted. “But there isn’t really an ‘our’ anymore. Your spirit is richer, more vibrant. Your current life has had its own impact. Just as beautiful but not the same. So, no, I don’t mistake you for her.”

  Warmth flowed thro
ugh her at his words, at his expression, and she relaxed in his arms. Her worry wasn’t completely gone, for she knew the transition would not always be so easy. But in this moment, she believed him. Perhaps her decision to bond would one day prove foolish. She couldn’t find it in her to care.

  Meli released his waist to run her hands up his chest. As she linked her arms behind his neck, she lifted herself to kiss him. Their lips brushed, light and hesitant, before he captured her mouth. He pulled her closer, supporting her weight. Then he devoured her. A fire seemed to light within them both, and she ceased to think.

  Hands turning frantic, they pulled at clothing, mouths parting only when necessary. She wanted to touch every inch of his flesh. Nothing had ever felt as wonderful as his skin. When they finally pressed together with nothing between them, she moaned. Complete and yet so empty. She trembled with the tension consuming her.

  Meli hardly noticed when he lifted her and carried her to the bed. Lyr lowered her to the mattress, his mouth barely leaving hers as she fell beneath him. She’d dreamed of this, but imagination hadn’t captured how he would affect her in real life. The bond between them hummed, the connection so intense it heightened every touch.

  Neither had patience for gentle caresses. The link tightening between them was too strong, too consuming. Meli opened to him, her body beyond ready, and her breaths came in sharp pants as he entered her. Energy gathered even as passion rose, even as she burned with it. They moved together for a seeming eternity before the tension released and they both cried out.

  As the energy settled and their breathing eased, Lyr turned to his side and pulled her close. Meli rested her head on his shoulder, her mind empty of everything but the bond that had grown strong between them. The touch of his body and his soul were so familiar, as though she had always been missing them. Their unity brought peace.

  For the first time, Meli could sense Lyr’s emotions clearly. How could he be so calm at his core? Not just the temporary relief of their joining, but an ease she had never sensed from him before. Her gaze caressed his face, relaxed as she’d never seen it. The ever-present worry lines had disappeared.

  She blinked, and his eyes met hers. His smile began there. “Thank you.”

  Meli pulled back a little. “I didn’t offer myself as a gift to soothe you.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” His arms tightened. “For…being. For accepting.” His sigh ruffled her hair. “I can’t seem to find the words to explain.”

  Her confusion cleared. He referred to the same joy she experienced in being bonded. It would have been easy for either of them to run from it, considering the past. Yet here they lay. “I think I know.”

  Meli’s hands tangled in his long brown hair. The first time she’d done so, he had been near death. Now he was life. But then he heaved another sigh, and she felt the worry begin to creep into him again. “Stop stressing.”

  His laugh jostled her. “At this point, I’m not sure I can. At least I no longer want to thrash Ralan.”

  “Isn’t it a prince’s job to command?”

  “Yes. And logically, I know it.” He caressed her side with gentle fingers. “But it’s difficult to think of him that way. He lived on Earth for three centuries and was nothing but my friend. There were times, during my trips to Earth, that we simply explored the world. The easiest way to poke at him was to treat him like a prince.”

  Meli chuckled. “A contradiction.”

  “The embodiment.” Though he smiled, his hand stilled. His expression grew thoughtful. “Maybe I haven’t forgiven him. He failed to see my mother’s attack in time to save her from grave injury. I didn’t blame him, and yet…”

  “You wonder,” she answered. “Every time he acts as a seer.”

  Lyr sat up, pulling her with him. He didn’t seem to notice the arm he curved around her waist. “That’s it. He didn’t see Lady Teronver’s attack, either. How can I send Kai and Arlyn on a dangerous mission on his word? What if…I don’t even want to consider it.”

  Meli pressed herself against him, offering comfort. She knew well enough the trouble seers could cause, having been sent into the mists by one herself. Then again, that hadn’t turned out so bad. “Talk to him.”

  Lyr’s mouth quirked. “I’ll just get vague nonsense.”

  “If he’s your friend,” she began, meeting his eyes, “then talk to him.”

  Once again, Lyr stood before a door, uncertain if he wanted to enter. His body might be lax, but his mind was in turmoil once more. He had returned to his room to shower, a luxury he hadn’t installed in the guest rooms yet, and soaked up the comforting warmth of Eradisel. When Meli slipped in some time later, her bag of meager belongings in hand, she had simply smiled and left him to his thoughts as she headed into the dressing chamber.

  At least she’d agreed to the move without hesitation.

  He had skipped dinner as he puzzled over his mixed emotions. For the first time in over a month—maybe longer—he felt like himself. The anger that had simmered after his mother’s injury had dulled, eased by the truth he hadn’t been able to acknowledge until Meli’s words. Though the fault was ultimately with Allafon, Lyr blamed himself for not being there. And Ralan for not seeing.

  Being captured, being chained—it had been Lyr’s first true failure. He should have recognized Allafon’s insanity and cruelty long before. Instead, his lapse had put his entire family at risk. If Arlyn hadn’t learned the trick of converting iron, they’d all be dead. As it was, his mother had paid.

  Now he stood in front of Ralan’s door, ready to apologize. Lyr knew how much the prince mourned his failure to stop Lynia’s attack. He knew but hadn’t been able to accept. With a sigh, he raised his hand to knock, but the door opened before he had the chance. Instead of his friend, Eri gazed up at him with solemn eyes.

  “Hello,” she said.

  “Might I speak with your father, Eri?”

  She shook her head. “He’s not here.”

  “Not…” For the first time, Lyr thought to search along the estate key for the prince. His stomach tightened when he found no trace. “He’s gone?”

  “Yep.” The little girl practically glared at him. “He decided to return to court early. He wanted to give you time to calm down. Should’ve Looked before bothering with that.”

  Returned to court? Lyr stared at her as comprehension trickled in. Ralan had ordered Lyr’s family into danger and then left. He’d said his gift might be a bit rusty and then left? “I can’t believe he did this.”

  Eri rolled her eyes. “I told him to Look, but he didn’t want to. Don’t worry, though. I’m here to help.”

  The statement was in no way comforting.

  Chapter 28

  Even after several centuries, the stone palace at the heart of Moranaia felt like home. And yet it didn’t. As Ralan emerged from the portal room into the large formal entryway, memories washed over him no matter how he tried to shove them aside. Listening to his father as he told the tales behind the ancient carvings on each wall. Sliding down the banister of the grand staircase on a dare by Kien. Storming down the small steps at the far end, rage and hurt consuming him.

  He halted, Teyark and Corath stopping beside him. The few milling about the room froze at the sight of the princes. “Thank you for coming with me,” Ralan murmured.

  Teyark snorted. “You didn’t phrase it as a request. Myern Lyrnis may never forgive my rudeness in leaving without a word.”

  “He’ll blame me.” Ralan rolled his eyes at his brother, pleased to be able to do so. Their comradery was slowly returning. “Besides, you’ve never hesitated to tell me no in the past. Truth be told, you wouldn’t miss this encounter.”

  His brother grinned. “Fair enough.”

  Beyond the windows, the sky was dark, the mountains beyond barely illuminated by the moon. The palace sat on a flat ridge at the base of the Great Range, mountains so tall that some had never been scaled, with the foothills rolling away to the north. Lyr’s estate
nestled a day’s ride away where the hills began to drop into the plains. Millennia before, Ralan’s ancestors had emerged through the portal where Braelyn now stood, but their queen had not been content to rest there. She’d left it in the hands of one of her sons and headed south until she reached the mountains.

  Here, the forest was sparser, leaving room for larger buildings. Ralan had been in castles on Earth that tripled the size of the Moranaian palace, but in his mind, none could compare. As he started toward the large doors at the far end of the entry, his gaze caressed the carvings, a scene of their arrival on this world, immortalized in the stone. He’d told Lyr he planned to find his own home, but being in the palace, he was no longer certain he needed to.

  The circlet on Ralan’s brow constricted, a reminder of a rank he hadn’t wanted—one he’d told his father he would never accept. Unlike the long vest he wore, created by the seamstress at Braelyn from an image he had placed in her mind, the copper band was ancient. For much of his life, Ralan had seen his brother wear it at important functions. A symbol of the heir. But Teyark had presented it to him.

  Ralan paused to take a deep breath. He’d sworn never to return, but he should have known the future was never so certain. No point in delaying. Steeling himself, he pushed open the doors. Gods, it was just the same. The great room beyond had been transformed for the evening feast with the king’s family and court, though during the day, the tables were removed. Those seeking formal audience with the king had to do so standing. Ralan took a few steps forward before the noise of dinner abruptly halted. It hadn’t taken long for their entry to be noted.

  Alianar’s golden eyes, a gift he’d passed to all of his children, widened, and his glass slipped from his fingers to shatter on the table. More shattered glass and a woman’s cry turned Ralan’s attention to the end of the table. Enielle, his mother, leapt to her feet, tears already streaming, and raced toward them.