Marianna
I wake up alone in the haze of another bright, sunny day. Summer heat pours over Moonrise as I slide out of bed and pull on a thin, silken robe over the tank top and shorts I fell asleep in late last night, after putting Skye to bed and rejoining Blake. He hadn’t woken up since I forced him to sleep yesterday, sometime in the early afternoon, but he’s gone now..
I blink back fatigue still clogging my eyesight and open our bedroom door, where soft voices drift toward me, carried on a warm breeze scented like maple syrup and freshly brewed coffee.
Skye kneels beside the coffee table in the living room, a plate of half-eaten pancakes resting beside her. She looks up at me with a sugary grin before her gaze locks back onto the chessboard on the table. Blake turns his head and follows my progress across the room to where a breakfast spread has been laid out–pancakes, eggs, fruit, and an assortment of juices, but I reach for the carafe of steaming coffee, trying to will my hands to stop trembling as his gaze works through me.
I’m not scared of him. I’m scared for him. Terrified.
But the scene in front of me is undeniable.
“You’re not very good at this, are you?” Skye titters, knocking one of his pieces from the board.
“You’re just exceptionally good at chess,” Blake replies under his breath, slightly taken aback, I think, at her level of skill. So am I, admittedly.
“Where did you learn how to play chess, Skye?”
“Dad,” she shrugs, waiting patiently for Blake to make his next move. “Just now.”
“About twenty minutes ago,” Blake replies with a soft growl. He moves a knight, and Skye doesn’t even need to think through her next move. She steals his piece within a second.
I hang back by the breakfast table, slowly bringing my coffee to my lips. Blake shifts his weight on the carpet, muttering something under his breath as they lean into the game, his eyes flashing with restraint and Skye absolutely glowing under his undivided attention, which makes my heart sing but also squeeze so tight it nearly takes my breath away.
He looks about as relaxed as he possibly can, but I can feel the seconds ticking by like a timer is somehow woven into our mate bond, like every moment that passes is a moment closer to when he makes the decision that will change the course of our life forever.
I think back on our first moments together here in Moonrise while they finish their game. Seeing him at the temple. Our chance meeting at the alpine lake. The afternoon he spent with Skye in the backyard of the townhouse when he’d told me her powers were extreme, and she needed training.
But she’s been better with him around. She’s easier on us and herself–like she finally feels like she has a place to stand in the world because her world is now surrounded by magic, just like her own.
But the man at its center, the man who’s been tucking her in at night and slowly, cautiously getting to know her, is going to… leave. Again.
“Your great-grandfather is very good at chess,” Blake says as their murmured conversation breaks through my thoughts. “His father, Maddox, taught him how to play when he was your age.”
“Is he better than me?”
“I’m not sure. Are you using your powers to cheat?”
She tilts her head to the side while he gives her a sharp, but still playful, look that screams he knows exactly what she’s doing, what she’s seeing behind those violet eyes.
I sink into an armchair for the rest of the morning, a silent observer to their conversations, to the next game of chess they play–which she also wins. Time moves slowly, and I’m grateful for it, but I know what’s coming. I know what he’s planning.
I just hope he gives me some time to prepare, to really let it sink in.
“Skye?” Soren calls out. His voice reaches us before he comes into view. Fallon wiggles in the carrier on Soren’s chest, and he’s dressed in shorts and a ratty old T-shirt with his favorite hat slapped backward on his head.
Skye pops up from her spot on the carpet with excitement shining behind her eyes. Blake, however, seems to sink against the foot of the couch while he runs a hand down his face.
I sit up a little straighter as I watch my mate roll his neck, his eyes pinched shut like he has a blinding headache.
“It’s our lucky day, kid. I’m busting out of the castle, and you’re coming with me,” Soren booms.
“Where are we going?” Skye asks, bouncing on her toes.
“We have a royal escort to the lake. We’re going to the beach and having a picnic. Jane and Patton will be there, too.”
Skye’s head whips in my direction. “And Dad and Mom?”
My heart sinks to my stomach. “Um, not today, honey.”
Skye looks at Blake, but he has his head in his hands. I rise from my chair, trying to hide my concern, but Soren also catches on and quickly says, “Let’s go. We’ll be back by dinner, okay? We’re picking up your grammy on the way…”
I remain in place while Soren talks Skye out of the room, closing us into silence, but I realize quite quickly that we’re not alone.
Maeve had been hanging back, just out of sight, while Soren fetched Skye. She’s a tangle of shadows as she edges into the living room, glancing at the breakfast spread before settling her sights on Blake.
He looks up from his hands, his eyes tired and slightly hazy with his powers. “Next time, can you just come in instead of standing right against my shields? It gives me a blinding migraine.”
Maeve’s mouth twitches, but only a ghost of a smile remains, and I quickly realize I don’t need to be here for whatever conversation is about to take place.
“I’ll be at the lake as long as both of you can promise not to kill each other if I leave,” I say, cutting through the tension between them.
“I think that’s wise,” Maeve says under her breath, but Blake looks at me, really looks, and I see nothing but mingled heartbreak and determination in his eyes.
He’s made a decision. He knows what he needs to do.
And he’s not ready to tell me.
It takes all of five minutes to catch up to Soren and Skye, the latter ecstatic that I’m joining them. Within an hour, we have a small picnic spot on the coarse, but warm, sand, with warriors in their wolf forms lingering nearby but some privacy, nonetheless.
Mom is on the shore with Skye looking for agates, of course, while I sit on a blanket with Fallon resting between my tights, her tiny fingers clutching my thumbs while she blows raspberries.
Soren and I have been sitting in silence for several minutes at this point. We’re both watching Jane and Patton pace the beach, obviously locked in deep conversation.
“They’re delaying the wedding,” Soren says with a soft sigh.
“Why?” I know why. I shouldn’t have even asked.
“The war, whenever that’ll be. Every territory under Maeve’s control is tightening up, all warriors accounted for.” He draws his knees up to his chest. “Patton would take her to the temple today if it were entirely up to him, but Jane… wants more for him. A real wedding. All the fluff. He’d love it, and she knows it.”
“They’re great mates for each other.”
Soren’s soft smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “I wanted this for him. Something easy. Someone he doesn’t have to put on a show for and who loves him regardless of what he went through with the Viper.”
Fallon yawns, blinking into the shade of the massive umbrella casting us in shadow. Her curly blonde hair ripples in the breeze coming off the lake as I rock her from side to side on my thighs, her body a comforting, grounding weight. “Blake told me bits and pieces about the Viper. But… she’s whatever Hannibal is, right?”
“She was. Maeve killed her, and it wasn’t easy.” His tone gives me pause. His voice is tight, controlled, but laced with what I know are horrible memories.
“Blake… he’s going after Hannibal, isn’t he?”
Soren stares at the water. He rolls his lips between his teeth before nodding, stealing a quick glance in my direction. “It’s personal for him.”
“Why?”
“Because of you.”
I shake my head, releasing a bitter laugh. “No–”
“He was willing to die to protect your memory. He was dying in Hannibal’s hands, shielding the memory of you, Marianna.” He takes another deep breath, his tone even more bitter as he adds, “No one messes with our mates and gets away with it.”
I stare at him, suddenly, finally, understanding. “This is all because Blake feels threatened by Hannibal when it comes to me?”
“Of course it is. But it’s also so much bigger than that. The whole family is being called to attention right now, everyone making moves, everyone lying in wait. Blake is the one who can tell them when to strike, but he won’t, because it means…”
“Giving in to his powers.”
“Yes.”
“He talked to you about it then?”
“Last night.”
I look down at Fallon, a weight lifting off my shoulders. “Good. I hoped he would.”
“He… did he talk to you about what he has to do?”
“He mentioned leaving.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“But leaving for where, exactly? And when? I can’t get that out of him. All for a vendetta against a man who had already left–”
“He has to finish this. I don’t think he has a choice.”
“But if he could just ignore it,” I counter even though I already know it’s not even remotely close to the truth, “and we all just move on, would there be a war?”
“I don’t know, but I feel it. Something… unsteady. Blake feels like he’s the one that has to right it.”
Neither of us speaks again for another hour, which bleeds into another, then another. The day stretches into late afternoon, then early evening, quiet and uneventful. We all have dinner together at the castle. Even my mom joins us, but over the chatter and occasional laughter, Blake’s silence and inability to even touch his food drenches me in dread. I miss him. I feel like I just got him back, and then this shift happened, ruining everything.
But as I watch him carefully, dutifully, tuck Skye into bed, I feel a sweeping calm drift through me. Whatever he chooses… whatever he feels pulled to do, he’s doing it for us. For his kingdom. For his family. For me.
I just wish I could hear him say why out loud. Just to silence my nerves.
But Blake has always been a man of few words.
He wasn’t planning on coming to bed with me, that’s clear, but I guide him to the bed regardless in a quiet command, a siren’s song, a gentle plea to be here for a moment with me, and he does.
I kiss him like my life depends on it. I pour every ounce of love I feel into the kiss, which turns into one more, and then our clothes fall to the floor, and it’s just the two of us against a world of unknowns, but in our room, it’s… beautiful. Safe and warm.
I fall asleep in his strong arms, drinking in his scent. A scent that reminds me of winter and the cozy security of Solstice.
I tell him I love him.
He presses his lips to mine one last time before I fall asleep.