Ryan
Three Days Later
Tarsian is gone.
That’s the only way to describe it. The cities, the packs… it’s nothing but endless, blood-stained desert now. Even the sea lapping against the shores of Serpentia is stained a dark red, but I watch it fade as I stand on what’s left of a deck overlooking the ocean.
Behind me, the incessant chatter of the injured and healing overwhelm the sound of the waves. A few people walk along the sand–warriors of different ranks and alliances. A young man in tattered Arcane Umbra armor talks to a group of men in armor from the Roguelands, reunited with old friends.
The curse is gone. The soldiers the Umbra Mortis turned into his puppets, his monsters, well… so far, they have no memory of the war, which is a blessing.
The rest of us remember, though. How could we ever forget what happened here? How are we possibly going to move on?
“Ryan?”
I turn toward Kenna’s voice as she steps toward me, edging around a group of nurses from Moonrise here to help treat those still healing.
She huffs a breath and pushes her hair out of her face as she reaches my side, breathless. “Aviva and the baby are just fine. She just had another exam. I wanted to be the one to tell you.”
A bit of the tightness in my chest eases. I lean my arms on the railing, bowing my head as I take a much needed breath, filling my lungs. “Good. Thank the Goddess.”
“Thank the Goddess, indeed,” Kenna echoes, leaning her hip against the railing. She looks out over the water, at the flawless blue sky. It’s nearly sunset again, marking the end of the third day since the battle ended.
“How's everyone else?” I ask, glancing at her.
She keeps her eyes on the water. “Sarah’s having a rough go of it, but she’s just in shock. Sydney hasn’t left her side, and he’s been talking about taking her to Moonrise as soon as dawn tomorrow morning. I agree. I think she needs to see her boys to really grasp that this is over, that we won.” Kenna’s voice is like gravel–lined with exhaustion. “My mom and dad are doing okay. I don’t think either of them has slept… at all. Your dad is still out looking for Grandma and Grandpa.” She sighs, closing her eyes for a moment.
We all saw the light. No one could have missed it. It swept through the battlefield, through Tarsian as a whole. There were reports of it reaching the Roguelands. Even in Moonrise, the light lit the night sky for several seconds before fading.
Grandma’s light. Her healing powers.
Kenna looks down at her hands. “I think Grandma’s dead.”
I chew my lower lip, nodding. “She did it, didn’t she? Broke the curse?”
“She flooded Eastonia with her healing powers,” she says softly, nodding. “All of us should be dead. But every warrior that fell on the battleground is alive and well. The curse is gone. The amount of power needed to do something like that… it doesn’t make any sense. The only thing that makes sense… is….” She can’t finish. Tears glisten on her lower lashes as she glances at me, barely able to hold my gaze. “Your dad, and my mom, are still holding out hope that they’ll find them. I don’t think they will. Not… not alive. It would have taken every ounce of her power–and then some.”
“Once Aviva’s cleared to travel, we’ll join the search.”
Kenna nods, smiling weakly. “I think you should just take your mate home, Ryan.”
The lump that's been stuck in my throat since I woke up three days ago, baking in the sun without my mate, thinking I’d been whisked to the Goddess’s kingdom only to find that somehow, we’d survived… I can’t swallow past it. My head isn't on straight, and I'm grasping for anything that makes sense right now. Going home to the Deadlands, to my pack, to my house and curling up in my bed with my wife…that’s all I want.
But there’s work to do.
“Where’s Sydney? I need to talk to him.” I push off the railing, but Kenna makes no move to follow me.
“Last I saw, he was with Sarah in the infirmary, but the Alphas of Tarsian are meeting tonight to discuss what happens next. Sydney wanted to be there.”
“What do you mean?”
She grinds her teeth. “Alpha King Cole called the meeting. I don’t know what it’s about, but he spoke with my parents recently about something.”
I check my watch. “What time were they planning on meeting?”
“I don’t know, a couple hours from now? Sydney told Evander it was at nightfall.” Kenna looks down at her hands–raw and red. While everyone seems to be alive and doing well, she’s been treating minor bumps and bruises, I’m sure. Still, I lay a hand over her shoulder and squeeze.
“You need to rest.”
“I have work to do, too,” she argues, but I shake my head.
“You look like shit, Kenna.”
She smirks, giving me a cat-like glare. “Thanks, Ryan. You, too.”
I give her shoulder another squeeze before wading through the crowd. Serpentia–what’s left of it–has become a city of warriors from every kingdom, every pack, no matter what side of the war they fell on. I step over sleeping warriors slumped against what remains of a fountain. I pass a group of warriors from Crescent Falls talking with a group of warriors from Arcane Umbra. It’s odd, really. Watching these groups converge when just three days ago they were fighting to the death.
My warriors from the Deadlands carved out a space for themselves just outside the city center in a three story building with a large courtyard. They’re fine. I’ve checked in with everyone already, and they’re all waiting to get home… but enjoying the heat, for sure. It’s been snowing like mad in the Deadlands, so this is almost like a vacation… a morbid one, but still. It’ll be months before we feel warmth like this again.
“Where’s my wife?” Evander asks as he passes me, neither of us stopping. I point in her general direction, and he barely gives me a nod in hello, or goodbye, before running off to find her.
Chaos. Calm chaos. Like war–everything is just noise, color, and movement.
But instead of the sound of death, the air is full of laughter. The smell of blood is replaced by food being grilled over open pits where warriors are burning whatever they can get their hands on. Warriors of all ranks, all allegiances, share meals together under the sunset.
I click my tongue, nodding in hello to people I recognize, saying things like, “Glad to see you’re not dead,” and “What a fucking mess, am I right?” While inside, I’m hanging on by a thread, especially as I reach the infirmary, housed in what used to be a dormitory on TU’s campus, and spot my mate.
Aviva sits up in bed as I approach, smiling. But a man sitting on the edge of a bed a few rows away steals my attention from my wife.
Misty runs her fingers over Alpha King Cole’s hand as he leans toward her, their foreheads touching.
I can hear my heartbeat in my ears, drowning out the rest of the noise all around me. Misty looks beaten–exhausted and worn thin. The Alpha King doesn’t look much better. He actually looks far worse.
“Ryan!” Aviva grabs my hand, tugging me toward her bed. “Don’t stare at them like that.”
I run my tongue along the edge of my upper teeth, feeling… uneasy. I watch Misty lift her head, her lower lip quivering as he brushes a kiss over her cheek bone, and she closes her eyes. His mark is still raw and red on her neck.
Mates… again. I’m not sure I’m ready to accept this man into the family.
But then Cole’s looking in my direction, and the soft, loving look he’d shared with my baby sister hardens to something fierce and deadly.
I arch my brows at him in a silent command to fucking try me. Let’s talk. Outside.
I tilt my head toward the entrance of the infirmary, and he rises from Misty’s bed.
“Be nice to him,” Aviva hisses, squeezing my fingers.
My eyes slide to Misty, noticing her glare. I arch my brows at her. She can try me, too, if she wants.
I turn from the women and follow Cole out of the infirmary, but he doesn’t stop walking. He’s a tall guy–my height, actually–but I have weight on him for sure. It wouldn’t take much to get him to the ground if he makes any snide-ass remarks.
“I would’ve done everything the same if I had to do it over again,” he says the second I catch up to his side.
I halt, processing his words. Slowly, he turns to face me.
“I’m not sorry,” he says, “if that’s what you’re expecting me to say. I’m sorry Misty got caught up in my family's mess, yeah, and that I couldn’t stop it from happening, but I’m not sorry for anything else.”
“You’re gonna stand by that?”
He steps into me, only a few inches of distance between us. He might be the only man I can look directly in the eye, nose to nose. “Yes.”
“You rejected her.”
“What would you have done? If you had one shot to save your wife but not yourself? Would you have let her suffer through losing a mate by death? Or let her go?”
I grit my teeth. That’s a good fucking question that I already know the answer to, and I hate it. I hate that I’m realizing Cole and I aren’t that different.
I would have done the same. Over and over again.
He backs off and starts walking. I’m not done, even though I’m not exactly sure what to say to convey how I feel about this whole fucking mess, but I follow.
“So, what now? You marry my sister and live happily ever after in your pretty glass castle?” I press. Aviva told me to be nice. I probably could be nice, if I wanted to.
He licks his lips, shaking his head, but says nothing further as we walk toward another university building that might have been stunning at one point, before it was touched by war.
He holds the door to an athletic center open for me but doesn’t look at me as we stride inside.
Several familiar faces turn to us when we walk into a cavernous space holding what remains of a swimming pool. The indoor track and balcony above it hang at odd angles, debris covering the ground, the pool, and blocking what look like locker rooms.
But several Alphas stand as Cole stops in the center of the space, tucking his hands behind his back.
I spot Sydney and Evander, who give me equally curious looks as their gaze sweeps from me to Cole and back again. I shrug, falling in line with them.
“Getting to know the new brother-in-law?” Evander says under his breath.
“He’s not an in-law yet,” I grumble, which amuses Sydney. To Evander, I ask, “Is this the Alpha meeting Kenna mentioned? Why was I not invited?”
“These are just the Alphas of Tarsian. Cole met with Ella and Ryatt two hours ago,” Evander drawls, his eyes holding on Cole’s profile.
“About what?” I murmur, but Cole begins to speak, his voice clear and echoing.
“I’m sure you’ve heard rumors today about what this meeting is about,” he booms, and all eyes turn to him. “I wanted to gather you together to thank you for your service to my father’s crown, and for trusting me with Tarsian when I… forced you and your packs to leave. And for coming back to my aid to fight for your kingdom. Your loyalty and sacrifice hasn’t gone unnoticed.”
A few of the younger Alphas nod, but the older ones… they watch Cole with interest, stealing glances at each other. Hardened Alphas. Alphas with decades of experience on their current king.
“My father wasn’t born to be Alpha King. He was made.” He takes a breath, his eyes scanning the room, stopping on me, my brother, and Evander. “I’ve already spoken to the queen of Eastonia, but I wanted you to hear this from me before word spreads any further. I am stepping down as Alpha King of Tarsian. I abdicated the throne, officially, a few hours ago. Queen Ella plans to meet with the Alphas of the packs of Tarsian individually before announcing the future of our kingdom–led by many Alphas instead of just one king.”
No one speaks to argue, but the older Alphas frown.
Finally, one speaks up. “Your father fought hard for that title.”
Cole argues. “For his title, yes, but not for the family that would carry it forward. I want a different life for my mate than our Luna–my mother–had.”
Sydney straightens beside me, folding his arms over his chest.
“Tarsian is too large for one king to handle. We all know it. All of your packs have different needs. When I spoke to the queen, I mentioned a council should be formed to discuss post-war reconstruction, but when it comes to establishing a new monarchy… I’m out. Queen Ella’s current recommendation is splitting Tarsian into thirds–three kings. The king of the desert, of the mountains, and of the coast.”
He’s so casual about it, too. But the fatigue in his expression is… extreme.
“This could cause a civil war,” one of the younger Alphas pipes up, but the older Alphas turn and glare at the men, immediately cutting off that notion in its infancy.
“I will be in Tarsian to oversee the transition,” Cole clarifies. “For at least six months, at least, until the new kings have been decided. It’s up to our queen. There will be no wars.”
One of the older Alpha’s walks toward Cole and bows. Others follow, quietly thanking him for his service in leading their kingdom through what I now understand was absolute hell and back.
After several minutes, there’s no one else in the area but us.
Cole turns to us, his eyes on his shoes before he lifts them to the men who will have to consider him family–our opinions on the matter aside.
“You’re giving up your title, just like that?” Sydney asks.
“I have an exhausted, traumatized, and pregnant mate lying on a cot across town. That’s my only concern at this point. She’s my only concern.” He starts to step past us, but I… I’m the one who reaches out, clapping him on the shoulder.
His lips barely lift into what could be considered a relieved smile, but Kenna rushes through the doors, her face white and washed in heartbreaking resignation.
I immediately know what she’s about to tell us.
I think we all do.
“They found Grandma and Grandpa,” she croaks, sucking back a sob.
“Are they… okay?” Sydney steps forward.
She looks to Cole, then back to us, and shakes her head.