She wished she’d known what the future held and could have forced Mather to go home before they ever found Kale’s graveyard ship. But Mather was wrong—Jon didn’t need anyone to care for him. Despite his mood swings, Jon was strong, smart and sure of himself, and she envied him for it.
He leaned against a tall palm near the edge of the surf. Smoke rose from the ember on his cigarette as he drove three arrows into the sand and crouched next to them, a bow across his knees. “You never answered my question.”
“Dammit, Captain, I have answered every single one, and yet you keep digging. Leave it alone.” She moved to a palm a few feet away and sulked against it.
“Cut the shit. I ain’t your captain.” He drove the end of his bow into the sand, his jaw so tight it was practically forged in steel. “You had a choice on that deck, Jàden. Kill me, or kill him.”
The venom in Jon’s tone stabbed her heart.
Him. As if Kale was the problem.
She hated how much it stung to have his anger turned on her. “Leave Kale out of this. Frank would have killed him no matter what I did.”
That was the horrible truth. Even if she’d gone with Frank, the bastard would have shown her Kale in his new life then gunned him down before she could turn away. Frank would do it to break her spirit and any hope she had left.
“Why would Frank care about some old lover of yours?” Jon wouldn’t even look at her. “He had you, Jàden, your little bird-in-a-cage theory. But a man like Frank wouldn’t give two shits about some ex-lover. There are other ways to break a mind.”
She kicked at the sand, trying to ignore Jon’s penetrating anger. “His real name is Command General Frank Kale, one of the highest Guild Council members and a tracker from the Alliance rim worlds. Jason Kale, the man I’ve been searching for, is his son.”
If Jon’s silence before had been a minor irritation, this time it was a punch to the throat. She could almost sense his fury through their tied energy, and the longer he said nothing, the more her body tightened.
Jàden couldn’t bear the quiet any longer. “Frank doesn’t give two shits about his son. He only wants the Flame. I spent years in a cage while he killed my dog, my grandparents and eventually the man I love, just to watch me break under the grief.”
Tears burned in her eyes as she dropped to the ground, digging her fingers into the sand to fight off the urge to run.
Jon lit his third—or twelfth—cigarette. She’d lost count, but every time she glanced at him, another one was already in his hand.
“Then why the fuck are you searching for him if he’s gonna end up dead again?” he asked. “Kale failed you once, Jàden, and there’s no guarantee he’ll protect you now.”
Anger ripped through her chest as she stumbled to her feet, fury boiling her blood. She threw a handful of sand at him. “Fuck you.”
His accusation cut straight to the heart of her deepest shame. She’d waited two years, and the moment she understood he’d only broken through the lab’s defenses to say goodbye, bitterness had seeped into her psyche. Why come at all if he couldn’t save her?
“Kale didn’t fail anybody.” She hated herself for needing a rescuer, that she couldn’t save her own ass against a bastard like Frank.
But she couldn’t let Jon see this side of her, the lonely coward who was desperate to put the fight in someone else’s hands.
Fuck Jon and fuck being on watch.
“I’m still alive because of Kale,” she said. “But you can’t say the same for your sisters.”
She stormed down the beach, not caring who saw her right now.
“Get the fuck back here. We’re not finished.” Jon chased after her, fury deepening his voice.
“Yes we are!” The Flame crashed into her veins, crackling white light across her fingers. “You can’t keep pushing—”
“The fuck I can’t.” Jon grabbed her arm and pulled her back until she stood face to face with him. “I did everything to save my sisters. Everything!”
“Then stop blaming Kale. He died trying to save me.” Still, she painted him the hero, the lie in her own words like a bitter plague. And now she so desperately needed Jon to fill the same role and hated herself for it.
“Kale’s dead. I don’t care how many lives the bastard lived. He ain’t the same man, Jàden.”
“He is the same! He’ll always be Kale.” Wrenching herself free, she tried to shove him away, but Mr. Muscular didn’t budge.
“Then why did you save my life?” Jon tossed his half-spent cigarette away and grabbed her shoulders. “He’s gone. My sisters are gone. You can’t bring him back, no matter how much it hurts. So why, Jàden?”
“Because I failed him!” She shoved Jon’s hands away, her heart hurting so much she would have given anything to rip it out of her chest. “I needed him to save me, and it broke him.”
“You can’t blame yourself for what happened—”
“Yes I can! Every day of my life until I can make it right. But if I climb aboard Frank’s ship, he’ll kill Kale, whether he’s a child or an old man. I can’t put him through it again—I can’t. And I can’t fail you again.” Tears streamed down her cheeks as she pressed her hands against her forehead, pain throbbing across her skull.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Jon paced in front of her like a caged bear.
“This power I carry is like a parasite that will never go away.”
Jon held up his hand, two threads of light twisting away from his palm. “You mean what we carry.”
“That’s where I’ve failed you, Captain.”
“Dammit, Jàden, I ain’t your captain.” He practically growled at her as he grabbed her cheeks. “You’ve never failed me, not once, but this power you carry isn’t just about you anymore. I carry it too, and you need to get that straight in your head.”
“Don’t you tell me what I need.” Tying Jon’s energy had been a terrible mistake. “If I don’t leave Sandaris, this power will become so strong I won’t be able to control it.”
“How strong?” He caressed his thumb along her jaw.
The heat from his touch sent an ache to her heart. White light burned in her veins as she leaned her forehead against his chin. “Strong enough to kill everything on this moon.”
As the Flame whispered out of her, every fish and crab under the water lit up for a single beat of Sandaris’s heart then faded to darkness. A single flash of millions of creatures beneath the waves and gone the next second as if she’d never touched their hearts.
“Guardians be damned.” Jon stared at the sea in shock as she turned over his hand and traced her thumb across his palm.
“And I won’t let anyone hurt you, not even me.” He deserved better, someone who wouldn’t get him killed. She had to protect him from her, from the Flame. As the tears slid down her cheeks, Jàden pulled the Flame back into her, slowly untying the threads of energy binding her to Jon.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Jon yanked his hand away and stumbled backwards. “Jàden.”
A cold, lonely ache soured her heart as the whispers of strength disappeared. Guilt spread through her chest that she’d put all of them in so much danger. That her tie with Jon led Mather to his death. “I shouldn’t have gotten you involved. I’m sorry, Captain.”
“Jon.” He stepped close and held her cheeks, leaning his forehead against hers. “My name is Jon. Please don’t do this.”
“You’re free now. One day you’ll thank me—”
“Not for this.” He pressed his thumb against her mouth to stop the flow of words. “Jàden, please.”
She couldn’t bear the pain in his eyes or the hollow ache gutting her soul. Everything in her screamed to pull him back into her, to hold him close and never let go.
Jàden kissed his palm, breathing in his masculine scent of mountain pine, and pulled away. It was the right thing to do, giving Jon back his life and freedom, but she hadn’t expected the re
gret that burned in her senses. She still wanted him, needed him, ached to curl up in his arms and cry out all her pain.
He wrapped an arm around her, leaning his head against hers. “Bonded or not, you will always have me at your side. But please, don’t leave me so empty.”
CHAPTER 34
The Dark Isle
The emptiness, a hollow hole in his heart so wide it threatened to swallow him, lodged in Jon’s chest worse than the day his parents died. He crouched in front of the stone ruins, a zankata freshly painted on the pillar. Pressing his fingers to the damp ochre, he clenched his fist, numb to the anger that should have burned through him.
He couldn’t forgive Jàden for stripping her magic away and tearing his soul to shreds. His family dead, his best friend killed and now a wife that didn’t want him. No matter how far he rode across this world, he’d never be able to outrun the pain.
Dusty and Thomas crouched beside him, but when neither one spoke, he growled at them. “What is it?”
“You ain’t gonna fix nothing by ignoring her, Captain.” Dusty’s sharp green eyes searched the woods for the smallest movement.
“I agree with Dusty.” Thomas ran a whetstone along his blade, something others might consider a threat. But the younger man was meticulous about caring for his weapons. “You two need to finish fighting it out. Or something.”
Jon wanted to punch them both, especially Thomas for the way he muttered that last phrase. Jàden had made her intent clear the moment she’d ripped her magic out of him.
“Not this time. That symbol she’s been looking for, they’re here. We’ll find her lover and let her go.”
Jon lit a cigarette and scanned the woods, nothing but foliage and tall trees rising to a thick green canopy.
Whoever had painted the zankatas the last few days were leading them toward the light haze on the nighttime horizon, and it had to be straight into the heart of a city.
Jon returned to his horse and climbed in the saddle. He shouted to his men, “We ride until dark.”
His gaze lingered on Jàden as she searched the sky for the hundredth time that day. It was time to find that lover of hers and punch him so hard the bastard never looked at her again.
Wrangling his horse around, Jon trotted ahead of the others. Shallow reef stretched in all directions, islands and waterways broken up by large, spherical rocks with eroded carvings covered in lichen. Ruins from a civilization long dead.
He kicked his horse ahead, but Dusty and Thomas cut him off, forcing the black to rear up.
“Don’t lie to yourself, Jon.” Thomas rarely used his name, always preferring the deferential Captain. “Jàden belongs with us.”
“She belongs with that lover of hers.” Even his own words stung as she disappeared ahead, Theryn antagonizing her like an irritating sibling. Jon backed his horse up to move around them.
But Thomas grabbed the black’s bridle. “You’re scared of her because she sees you. It was in your eyes the night Mather died.”
“You told us outside Nelórath that her life matters more than yours. It got me thinking—if she ain’t your sister, there’s only one other reason you’d risk your life to protect hers.” Dusty nudged his horse closer. “Jàden saved Theryn’s life. She’s family now. So fix it before you lose what’s really precious.”
As the two men wrangled their horses around and trotted toward the others, Jon dug his heels in and charged past them all, anger and hurt tightening his heart like a vice.
She may have been his wife for a whole season, but with the bond gone, years of loneliness swallowed him whole.
He couldn’t fix this, not without magic of his own. But even if he held the power to bind them again, it didn’t change the fact that she was in love with another man.
Jon followed the road for several days, the heavy rain souring his mood as he kept his anguish wound tight around his heart. He and Jàden barely spoke two words to one another, and he insisted Thomas keep pushing her harder.
Maybe he just wanted her to break down in his arms again so he could comfort her, or maybe without him, she’d never be strong enough to face the shadows haunting her footsteps.
As they neared the city lights, the road ascended to a low cliff. White spires peeked through the jungle canopy between two giant mountain precipices. A maze of waterways wound through the landscape, cascading over a series of falls at the edge of a giant river storming toward the harbor.
Ships moored below, a few of them with insignias he recognized from the Ìdolön shipping docks, but most were unfamiliar. The only one he cared about, though, was any black sail bearing the Tower and two moons emblem—and there were none.
“Guardians be damned,” Andrew muttered, nudging his horse alongside. “The city’s as big as Ìdolön.”
Jon lit a cigarette and dropped to the ground. “We should go in now, before it gets dark.”
He didn’t care about sleeping in the mud again, but a city could mean an inn, fresh supplies and maybe some real food for a change. Plus, with Frank’s ships still in the sky, the city could offer a better way to disappear.
Eventually, they’d need to ride inland to get far enough south to find the Ironstar Tower, and civilization might give him a chance to observe the true nature of Dark Isle inhabitants.
“These ain’t our kind of folks, so I want weapons hidden,” Jon said. “Don’t need any of them to think we’re a threat.”
As Jàden stopped her horse beside him, Jon grabbed the stallion’s bridle. Agnar had shed much of his black fur for a clouded gray, though Jon didn’t think he was more than twelve years old. Too young to be turning gray.
“Hood up, cover the lower half of your face,” he told her. “You ride with me.”
“I can ride my own horse, Captain.” She slid to the ground, avoiding eye contact with him despite her stinging tone.
But Jon wanted her near him in case something went wrong. He tugged the reins over the gray’s head and stepped close to her. But instead of her sweet breath on his skin tugging at the ache in his heart, cold emptiness slapped him with the gentle scent of rainfall.
“No arguments. I’m the captain.”
The words tasted like bitter ash on his tongue.
Jon unbuckled his larger weapons and wrapped them in a blanket, tying them to her saddle. Only the daggers stayed at his back, hidden beneath his outer tunic.
Growling her contempt, Jàden unbuckled her own daggers.
But he grabbed them out of her hand. Adjusting the leather straps, he wrapped them around her waist like his, one hilt pointed at each hand. “I said weapons hidden, not off.”
“Yes, sir.” She barely kept the poison from her words as he tightened the buckle at her waist, his mouth dangerously close to hers.
He desperately wanted to kiss her and end this stubborn bitterness, but surrounded by his men was not the place to do it.
“Don’t reach for them unless you have to.” Though right now he’d welcome a stab in the back to stifle the pain in his heart. He grabbed her waist and lifted her onto his horse.
“I can only think of one person I’d use them on,” she muttered under her breath.
Jon climbed in the saddle, his jaw so tight his head throbbed. “Ashe, take her horse.”
Gathering the black’s reins in his hand, Jon led them along the cliff as the road widened onto hard-packed dirt. A ship with orange light flew over the city and disappeared into the jungle.
Fuck, the last thing he needed right now was Frank.
Jàden slipped her arms around his waist. She must have seen the ship, and no doubt her fear overrode her anger.
Jon nudged his horse into a trot. They needed to get inside the city crowds before the ship doubled back. Even as angry as he was right now, she mattered more to him than anything else.
They wound along the cliffs and beyond the muddy road to a narrow street. Zankata lined the walls, ruffling their feathers or watching the
m with sharp eyes. Several blue-feathered zankata flew down, melting together into a single, uniformed figure in the middle of the path, her black tunic emblazoned across the chest with a blue feather.
The guard held up her hand. “You shifter?”
Something about the woman’s rigid demeanor reminded him of Naréa—someone who’d spot a lie in two seconds.
Jàden hunched against Jon, but he stopped far enough away that the guard couldn’t reach him or his horse with a weapon and said,
“No, ma’am. Human. My brothers and I were shipwrecked, lost nearly everything. We’d like passage into the city for supplies.”
The birds along the wall were still as statues, turning their heads to size up Jon and his men.
“Where you comin’ from?” The woman walked a circle around him, lifting the blankets on Agnar’s back. She was looking for something, but the truth was they didn’t have more than their clothes and weapons. Even last night’s meager stew had been gone by morning.
“Forbidden Mountains. Them Ìdolön bastards been killin’ families and burning farms.” He really hoped news of the soldiers had already spread this far south. It might help his words have a bit more weight. “We’re just looking for a fresh start.”
“You’d be safer up north.” She stepped next to him, one hand on the dagger hilt at her waist. “Though I can’t say I’m surprised. We get a lot of folks escaping those northern soldiers. Usually the deserters.”
She fixed her gaze on him, the sharpness of her words revealing that she knew he and his men were soldiers. Likely by the branded emblem on their horses. The guard would be well within her rights to have them all jailed and sent back north, but Jon would kill her and every shifter on the wall if they tried.
“Try Riven Mountain Inn near the broken bell tower. Mostly humans there to help get you settled. No hunting within a day’s ride of the city—all meat must be purchased at the markets where it’s one hundred percent animal.” She pointed toward a section of the city where two smaller rivers merged into one.
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