Jessamine
The days that follow are hard on everyone. News of Kier’s apparent death spreads as far as the borders and Atticus’s army moved early than normal. If I had hoped even for one day of rest, I was sorely mistaken. The days are sweaty and the nights are barely enough to spend with Kier. He returns so tired, he falls asleep the moment his head hits the pillow.
I’m content with just holding him, brushing his hair back and watching him lean into my touch, or sigh contently. Though, there are times I crave even a moment of peace, but I know we won’t have that until the war is over. Until we’ve won, because there’s simply no other option.
The reports we have received on Atticus’s army has given us a spark of hope and it is growing into something more confident. Our numbers triple his. It’ll be an easy battle, everyone says, but Kier worries endlessly that it’s too easy. He worries and I feel it down the bond. His constant state of duress.
I have received no letters from Atticus, and I assume that since my trial before the council and exposing my plan to practically the whole pack, he must have figured out that I deceived him by now. But he is uncharacteristically quiet. Perhaps, it is because he realized he lost his wild card and Renae, his ally, is with the Goddess now. Or hell.
Kier doesn’t think so, though. He thinks Atticus has something grand planned. I think he’s so used to having to fight tooth and nail for everything in his life, so much so, the possibility of winning a war so easily seems foreign to him.
On the nights when he isn’t passed out, I try to make him forget. I dance for him. He likes it when I do. He says he loves it when I straddle him and roll my hips. He says my rump jiggles and he could watch the movement all day, get off of it. I sing, too. It’s embarrassing as hell, but he falls asleep fastest when I’m singing. He’s like a child in those moments, and I hurt when I realize he’s probably never had much warmth in his life. It makes me want to love him more than I already do—and I’m unsure how that can even be possible.
Becoming Kier’s Luna—well, I sort of brushed it off when the talk came up. I love Kier, but I have responsibilities I owe to Dawn. To my father. Be Kier’s Luna or remain Dawn’s heir. I’ll put it off for as long as I can, until I can’t avoid it anymore. The reluctance of the people to accept me makes it that much harder. To be honest, I don’t care what they think of me at this point. Randale tells me that I should, and I’ve told him to go knock himself out. From the way I see it, they need my acceptance, not the other way around, because, hey! I’m the one who rode out here with my men to protect them. I’ve sacrificed way more for them than they ever will for me, and I’m leading them, fighting alongside them, even if I don’t have to.
If that’s not enough to breach the gap between my people and theirs, then I don’t know what is.
Tossing for the fifth time, I take Kier’s arm off my waist gently and slip out of bed as silently as I can. He rolls onto his side, nestling deeper into the pillows and I move only when he begins snoring again, softly. I grab his cloak and wrap it around my shoulders before sneaking out of his bedroom. A few guards loiter the hallways but they don’t stop me, instead bowing in greeting and staring straight ahead.
I could as well be alone with statues—not that I’m complaining.
My feet bring me to Lloyd’s door and I pause outside, my fist poised to knock. But I don’t, because there is a feminine voice coming from inside.
I lean closer, recognizing Nymeria's soft whine and confusion creases my brow as a hushed cuss followed, "Keep still. I won't cut you!" The scraping and snipping of something soft and silky fills the air.
Tilting my head, curiosity battled the rising frustration in my gut. She's cutting his hair? Why is she even in here? How is Nymeria in here? And Lloyd? He's letting her touch him? I've been here three times since the first and every time he lays eyes on me, he goes rabid.
Why...
"There. You like? I'm a little rusty, but...well..." she mumbled, her voice laced with uncertainty. "You don't look so...bad."
Hanging on more tensely than I realize, knots form in my stomach, and when Lloyd gives a small sound of amusement, tears spring to my eyes. Holding my breath, I lean back against the door and sit as quietly as I can.
"It's...horrible," he croaks. "Uneven."
Goddess, he's talking. My lips quiver. He's talking to her.
"Well, have at it. I'd like to see you try it out yourself!" I can hear the scowl in Nymeria's voice. "The lot of you are an ungrateful bunch. Good night."
Her feet stomps hard into the ground, but one word stops her angry pacing.
"Nym." A pause. "Stay. It's...dark. And cold. I don't..." His voice trails off, but I hear the rest of the words he doesn't say. I don't want to be alone.
I wipe a tear from the corner of my eye, an unbearable pressure growing up my throat at the rawness in his voice. Not even Nymeria can say no to that.
More gently, she paces back, and I hear the rustle of sheets, and she says, "Come on. Get off the floor. It's warmer here."
I've never quite heard her speak to anyone so gently, softly, and Lloyd, he listens to her. I wonder why that is. I wonder how long this has been happening.
"Your sister," Lloyd muses. "Is she alright?"
Nymeria snorts. "That one is a little roach. Hard to kill. I was worried for no reason."
"Worried?" He sounds incredulous. "You were crying when--"
"I told you something got in my eye."
"You bite your lip when you lie."
"Fuck you. You want to sleep or not?"
Another sound slips from Lloyd. It might have been laughter. "You...you should tell her. That you care. I told Nadine she was a coward and I hated her." His voice is cold again. Detached. Empty. "I didn't get a chance to take it back."
Nymeria is silent for a while. "That bitch stole my groom, my life and she didn't even need to! Now she's discarding them and I'm sure as hell she won't be needing her status as heir when she marries your Alpha. She could've just stayed right here, but no. She has to have everything. Fuck her, I don't care."
I glare at the door, but I understand what she's trying to do. Divert attention from Nadine's death.
"Who's your child's father? You're an unmated woman." The curiosity in Lloyd's voice is almost child-like.
Nymeria grumbles, "It's rude to ask questions like that. It's intrusive. You can ask what my favorite flowers are. Lilies."
But Lloyd isn't easily pulled off the subject and he asks in a faint, almost slurred voice, "Is he dead?"
A tense silence hangs heavy the air, and just when I think Nymeria might not respond, she whispers, "He...he might as well be. He isn't who I thought he was. I fell in love with a monster."
She chokes on a sob, and somehow, I know I'm about to experience something sensitive to Nymeria. A part she wouldn't appreciate me eavesdropping on. I find my way to the stairs, happy for the fact that Lloyd seems to be alright around her. I don't know if...if he'll ever forgive me. If we'll ever be the way we used to be, but I'll give him however long he needs to heal.
The problem is, I don't know if one ever heals from that kind of pain.
Something heavy settles in my heart, tightening it. I don't know what it is, but I feel uneasy. On edge. It's why I couldn't sleep tonight. It's also why I don't return to the room, instead taking the stairs to the top floor.
I wonder if Kier's paranoia has begun to rub off on me.
Reaching the veranda, I start when I find Darrock with a bottle, his back leaning against the wall and his eyes closed. His features are rested, and I would have thought he was asleep if he didn't say, "Grown bored of him already?"
Snorting, I lower myself the ground beside him, folding my legs under me. "Never. Just...my head feels full of...nothing, and my hands itch to do something."
"Anxiety. The war is less than a day away. It happens that way." He still hasn't opened his eyes.
I eye him. "You're leading the left flank. I'd think that'd be more than enough reason to remain sober. Going to battle hungover--"
He cracks one eye open, the maroon of it twinkling. "You're nagging me again. Don't make me yearn for the days I thought you would be mine." His head lolls a little in my direction. "Hard not to try distract myself when I think of what happens every night you spend with him. Makes me wonder what I could have done differently."
His other eye opens slowly, and he's looking at me deeply, heavily, both eyes searching mine, following and tracking every movement, committing it to memory. "He won."
I blink. "What?"
"The duel I promised. We had it that night, after he publicly claimed you." A ragged sigh, and he rubs his face with long fingers. "I challenged him and lost. It's why I agreed to call off the wedding." His eyes grow distant, a hint of fear and awe creeping into them. "I never stood a chance."
Dumbfounded, I replay Kier's words in my head from that night. I assumed you would need to speak to him, so I did it for you. I called off the wedding on your behalf. Calling it off entailed a duel I knew nothing about? Talk about secretive and territorial, and Goddess help me, I find it irresistibly hot that he fought for me. And won.
"Stay with the Alpha tomorrow.” Darrock’s voice broke through my thoughts. "He'll keep you safe."
I force my gaze to meet his and for the first time, I let him see all of it. All of the love I feel for Kier, no matter that I haven't expressed it yet to the man. "I will never leave his side." Swallowing the lump in my throat, I add, "I'm sorry."
He reaches out, over the bottle of wine, and his fingers are warm and gentle as they brush against my cheek. "Me too,” he murmurs. “Give me something, Violet, anything, before I let you go."
Stretching forward, he lowers his face to mine. He kisses me. I let him. It is nothing sensual. It is gentle. It is a longing for more that will never come. It is goodbye.
I don't know why, but a tear slips from the corner of my eye as he lets go, and when he walks away from me, he doesn't look back.
*********
"No."
"Jess, please," Kier pleads, running his fingers through his hair. "You don't need to come along. Stay with the women and children in the levels beneath the castle. It'll be over before you know it--"
"No." I strap on another heavy piece of armor. "I'm coming with you. The last time I left you behind, you almost died. We do this together." I hold up my hand when he starts to protest. "We are NOT having this conversation because I won't listen."
I head for the door, only to have him block the path. I growl and he growls right back, his hazel eyes flaring gold. It's the paranoia again, getting the best of him. He's been on edge since he rose this morning, and having me against the bathroom wall, covered in water and our sweat only seems to have worsened it. "You WILL--"
"Try compelling me and let me break your fucking nose, Kier."
He blinks, as if surprised that he'd even done that. Then he sighs heavily, letting his hands rest on my waist. The heat of them burns through the leather and I shiver, despite my anger. "Sorry. I just...I want you to be safe."
"Stop treating me like I'm some figurine made of glass. I won't break. Like you, I have Alpha blood in me. I'm a fighter. I won't sit back and wait while you head first to the front lines without a care in the world. What if something happens? Do you have any idea what it was like seeing you lying there with his hand in your chest? Do you have any idea..." I don't finish my sentence because it feels too heavy to say.
Kier understands and he sighs, wrapping his arms around me, tucking my head under his chin. "Zephyr is rattled. It's unusual, and it's fucking with my head. I'm sorry." He pulls back, adjusting the scraps of metal on my shoulder, and he walks to the stand to retrieve the breast plate he had made, just for me. "Stay behind the front lines. There's no shame in prioritizing your safety. If there's a breach, head for the caves. I will find you." He pulls my hair up and effortlessly wraps it in a bun. "Stay close to me, always."
I nod, and he leans forward, nuzzling my neck. "I love you," he murmurs, and kisses me on the arch.
Outside, Randale, Mikkel, Darrock and Az wait, dressed in tough leather and a little bit of armor, conversing in hushed tones, and when we join them, they fill us in on the reports of Atticus's men. The latter has dark circles under his eyes and a haunted expression, and I know it has everything to do with the fact that Moira is out there somewhere, alone while the war approaches. He's worried for her and he'd offered to go with her and guard her until she reached the docks and ships. But she rejected him again.
Az's gaze meets mine briefly and he looks away first.
"How many more?" Kier asks when Mikkel tells him more of Atticus's men have joined the rest approaching outside the city gates.
"A few hundreds. Nothing we can't handle." While it should have put us all at ease, it only makes Kier tense and his fingers entwined in mine tighten.
"Any suspicious activity from the other locations? Sneak attacks or..." Kier almost sounds like he's expecting or wishing for more.
Randale narrows him a look. "Nothing." The castle is uncomfortably silent and empty, save for the men loitering about. Everyone's been moved under and to the most secret safe structures. Everything's fine, so far. Lloyd and Nymeria are there with the women and children. Everything's fine. We'll win. Our numbers are greater, by a lot, our men stronger.
I peer up at Kier to find him already watching me. He's in deep blue leather, and it takes a lot of discipline to keep my eyes off the fit, the hug of it to his skin, the v of his hips and how delicious he looks. I want to be the leather. "How's a formal engagement sound?" He whispers, drawing soothing circles inside my palm.
My eyebrows quirk up, and even if I've been avoiding this topic in particular, I don't digress, seeing as it seems to take his mind off his anxiety. "Define formal."
He shrugs, tucking me closer to him as we make our way outside, to the waiting horses. "I've been speaking to your father. We've been discussing a proposition. While the purpose of this war is to get rid of the rogues permanently, we'll be conquering King Hamon's lands as well. Joining it to ours."
I frown. "The humans won't like this very much, Kier."
He huffs a laugh. "They won't need to live with us. All I'm doing is taking control of their lands. I won't force them to mingle. They can keep to their side of the borders, but they be a kingdom no longer. There will be lords governing over them, with one sole king. Me."
Something about that catches my interest. "When you say one king..." My voice trails off at the pleased gleam in his eyes. "My father is agreeing to this too? One king? You'll merge all three kingdoms into one? Who'll rule? You've been to Dawn. You know what they think of you."
He grips my waist and settles me on the back of my horse and while he adjusts the saddle, he smirks cockily. "They may have a hard time deferring to my authority, but not yours."
My lips part and I blink rapidly, processing his words at an insanely fast rate. "High Queen, that's what you want me to be."
He reaches up to tuck my hair behind my ear. "It's your birthright, Jess."
A hush falls between us, and I just stare at Kier, thinking of sitting by his side with a crown on my head, wearing one of those false smiles I've seen on Queen Tara's face. The heavy weight of it all is crushing. I've always wanted one thing; Kier. I don't know if I'm cut out to be Queen of three different people. Being my father's heir was already hard enough.
Kier must sense my panic through the bond because he caressing the curve of my ear, whispering kindly, "You don't have to decide right now. The proposition is a work in progress and it'll take months to finalize. It's a lot of pressure, I'm well aware, but, I'd be honored to have you do this with me. I'm equally nervous, and I know I won't get through it without you."
But he doesn't look nervous. How could he? He's been doing this since he was what--nine?
"Alpha Kier!" Randale yells in the distance. It's time to leave.
Kier pulls back, his expression closing off once more, but he somehow manages to give me a smile before strutting off to his own horse. "You'll do great."
*******
Kier
For three days we fought, the blood of family and foe staining the snow. We offered surrender, but Atticus's men would sooner slit their throats than live. So, we killed. Retreated. Regrouped. At the end of each day, we burned our dead, offering prayers to the Goddess to lead them into the After.
Atticus was nowhere to be found, but King Hamon's General Rowan, led the army.
Through it all, Jessamine remained by my side, a blur of blonde hair and fierce silver eyes. She was just as merciless as I was, beautiful in her artful destruction. I'd glance back occasionally in search for her, but she never strayed too far, protecting me, watching over me like a guardian angel. It is, however, when the last of Atticus's men fall on the third day and my men roar in victory, that I notice something is wrong.
The bond is silent.
Panic surges. My gaze whips around, searching for Jessamine's familiar form amidst the carnage. Nothing. I storm through the battlefield, scanning each face, hoping to find her among them. But my heart sinks with each passing moment when I don't.
I, however, find Randale, smiling, his face flush with blood and joy. His smile falters when he sees the storm brewing within me. "Where is Jessamine?"
Randale pauses, his gaze darting around. "I...I last saw her with Darrock."
"When?" The question is heavy, dripping with dread.
Randale's eyes glazed and horror filled his gaze. "It's...been a while. It might have been an hour ago. Or more than that. I was..."
I stop hearing him. His words feel like a blow landed by a battle ram. I could've sworn she was right there. I could've sworn I saw her hair. Fear morphs into a suffocating anger. I leave Randale behind, stumbling over bodies, searching for her scent. But the air held only the metallic tang of blood and the faint, fading echo of her presence – hours old.
My knees buckle. I clutch my chest as I fall, a desperate plea for Zephyr to find her. But the bond remains silent. Too silent. And Zephyr's roaring; panicking. He can't reach Nyx either.
His knees gave out and he clutched his chest tightly, like he could force Zephyr to find her. But the bond was silent. Too silent. And Zephyr was roaring.
I'd known something was wrong. I'd known Atticus had plans. And this...war had been too easy to win. It had all been a ruse to get what he really wanted. Jessamine, and I was a fool not to realize it sooner. That all of these men were simply fodder, and what he wanted was not to win. He wanted something important to both kings. He wanted a prize and I unwittingly let her come here. But how could he have....
My jaw clenches, and I stand abruptly at the sound of footsteps behind me. I meet Az's wide eyes. "Where is Darrock?"
"Gone, with our supplies," Az breathes, extending a bloody note to me. I take it with trembling hands, scarcely noticing the men teeming around me, waiting as I read Darrock's jagged writing;
"I'm sorry. He has my sister."
Descending into a feat I can only tag as madness, I roar.