Resurrection Of The Fallen
Page 34
“Apples?” Benton asked.
“Delicious, right?” Vann replied. “They’re my absolute favorite food, especially the green ones. I love wandering through apple orchards to pick them myself in the fall.”
“I don’t know who your mate is,” Chander said and it was the plain truth. “But I think it’s safe to assume you have one alive somewhere.”
“You think maybe they survived when I died?”
“It’s a possibility I suppose. Shifters don’t necessarily die if their mate does. Anyone who has been resurrected won’t die when they lose their other half. There might be other races like that we don’t know about as well.”
“Okay, makes sense.”
“The only other thing I can tell you is Vann isn’t the name I chose for you,” Chander said.
The fallen knight’s brow crinkled. “It’s not?”
“No, I chose the name Titus for you. It means defender; I thought it was fitting,” Chander said. “But you wouldn’t stop repeating that your name was Vann. In the end, I had no choice but to allow you to have it your way.”
“That’s fucking odd, any other fallen knight insist on a different name than the one you gave them?”
“No, and I’d never even heard the name Vann before you said it. I didn’t hear it again used as a name until last century,” Chander said. “I have poured over history books for fallen warriors named Vann, but I’ve never found any. Not that lived before the fourteenth century. I can only assume it might be a nickname. Perhaps a shortened version of a name. I wish I could tell you more, but that’s all I know.”
“Is that the spelling I requested? With two n’s?”
“When I asked you to spell it you just looked at me so I had to assume there was no specific spelling you desired so I guessed.”
“Thanks, Chand, I really appreciate it. If you see my mate wandering around, tell him or her to come and find me,” Vann said as he stood.
“It would be my pleasure,” Chander said as he walked out. He really did hope whoever Vann was mated to showed up soon. No one worked harder than the original four fallen knights, and they deserved every bit of happiness.
* * *
Drystan squeezed Conley’s hand. Conley was never big on patience, and they’d been waiting for several minutes now while Chrysander allowed all the attendees of his ball to arrive so they could join the rest of the guests. They were dressed in their fanciest uniforms, and Conley looked good enough to eat in his silk and wool ensemble. The last two weeks had been wonderful. They’d loved and laughed. He’d never believed he could be closer to Conley than he’d been at the time of their deaths, but somehow they had managed it.
However, at the moment the constant tapping of his shiny footwear was driving Drystan crazy, so he slid a hand around his neck and kissed him. Conley stabbed his tongue between Drystan’s lips and things turned carnal. Their mouths were still mashed together when Drystan heard someone clear their throat.
“You two want to stop making out and come downstairs?” Vann asked.
Drystan just glared and dragged Conley out into the ornate ballroom. Every person in the room, which included all the Council leaders, the D’Vaires, and the Beradraconis’s burst into applause. When it died down, Chrysander came over to stand next to them.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for being here tonight. It’s an extraordinarily important evening as we are not only welcoming Reverent Knight Conley Gylde-Kempe to our humble Council but also celebrating the matebond of our Reverent Knights. It would be remiss of me not to mention they have recently had their memories restored. As if their tireless dedication as fallen knights and leaders of the Order of the Fallen Knights was not enough to recommend them, these courageous men once led the dragons as emperors. No dragon, nor truly any shifter, would be who they are today without these two men. The Council of Sorcery and Shifters is indebted to them for all they have sacrificed. On behalf of this Council and as the current leader of the dragons, you have my eternal gratitude. It is an honor and indeed a privilege to not only get to work closely together but to call you both friends as well.”
Cheers and applause resonated through the room when Chrysander finished speaking. Drystan and Conley both thanked him profusely before taking turns embracing the man. Fate had indeed done a great job of filling their shoes after their deaths. They then moved on to greet so many well-wishers Drystan’s head spun. But it was his parents who hugged them the tightest and that was exactly how it should be, he decided.
After several glasses of champagne and about a million hors d’oeuvres, Drystan did something he hadn’t done since his previous life. He dragged an unresisting Conley out onto the dance floor. Above them, light glowed from brilliant chandeliers and as the orchestra played, their shoes moved over the black-and-white tiled floor.
“A beautiful evening,” Conley said as they swayed.
“It is,” Drystan said. “Get ready to do it again soon. The Draconis Museum is going to throw us a ball.”
“Well, they were pretty thrilled to get our emperor rings,” Conley said. Chander had, as promised, had them delivered as well as their swords. The weapons they had elected to keep and were now displayed proudly in the living room of the condo they shared.
“And happy to meet the former emperors,” Drystan said. Chrysander hadn’t hesitated to announce their true identities to the world and once again, they were dogged by the press wherever they went. This time around wasn’t quite as annoying.
“Don’t worry, the novelty of it should wear off soon.”
“As long as your love for me never does.”
Conley gave him a fond smile that Drystan kissed. “You’ll never be rid of me or my love.”
“I’ve got an eternity to hold you to that.”
“I love you, Drys.”
“I love you too, Con.” Drystan continued to twirl the best part of his soul around the beautiful room and marveled that not even death could tear them apart. Time meant nothing to them now; their lives were infinite but he would waste none of it. Life was about leading the fallen knights and more importantly, loving Conley. That was the one thing he knew he’d been born and resurrected to do. And one day in the future, he’d find a way to thank the man who’d given them a second life. But first, he’d have to learn to forgive him.
Tugging Conley a little closer, he set those thoughts aside. Anger had no place in these tender moments, and he preferred to focus on the happy. Lucky for him, it was damn near impossible to be anything but blissful whenever Conley was in his vicinity. The truth was, all the rumors about them and their previous life were true, especially the ones which described their love as legendary. And now the fallen would weave new tales of a devotion that had no equal.
About the Author
Jessamyn Kingley lives in Western Maryland with her husband of nearly two decades. She considers it a bad day when the lovely men in her head refuse to speak to her. When she is not writing, Jessamyn is pretending to be one of the magickind she loves to create in the rich world of video gaming.
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