Forty-Nine
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Samkiel. Remains of Rashearim.
S unlight bathed the new floor I’d made a week ago when I’d first
returned to the remains of Rashearim with Dianna in tow. We were in
my home, except it was no longer in a state of decay. I had remade the entire place. The holes created by powers I couldn’t contain were gone, and the overgrown foliage no longer threatened to reclaim the land. I’d modeled the interior after the places she had stayed and enjoyed. Dianna would remain here until I figured out what to do with her, and I wanted her to be comfortable.
The council would want her head for all she had done. They cared not about grief or pain, but I refused to give her to anyone, let alone them. The meeting with The Hand went well. Everything Neverra told us would stay sealed within my journal. My gut screamed that something moved beneath all of this, something I hadn’t seen yet, and trusting anyone outside of The Hand made me uneasy. My chest ached at the recollection of what Neverra had gone through, but the worst part was that I felt it was all my fault. I’d trusted the Vanderkais and sent Drake right to her, to them, and it had cost Dianna everything and almost cost Logan the same.
“You caught me.”
The words she’s spoken to me after falling through that portal whispered through my head. She had returned to me, and I had caught her.
Ethan had warned me back in that over-cumbersome mansion not to make her fall if I had no intention of catching her, and as I watched her sleeping form, I realized somewhere along the way that catching her and keeping her safe was my only intention.
“Guilt wafts off of you in waves but undetected by mortal eyes,”
Roccurem said from behind me.
“You are lucky I have not disintegrated you yet,” I snapped.
“I assure you. I have the best intentions for you, Dianna, and the realms.
In as much as I am allowed to interfere, I will do what I can for all of you.”
I sat on the edge of the oversized bed, watching her as she slept. Her hands rested on her chest as it rose and fell. She was clean, her clothes no longer a mangled, tattered mess. I had healed her as soon as I could, but she had not moved much in the last week.
Roccurem looked down at her, once again in his mortal form, his hands clasped behind his back.
“What’s happening to her? What’s wrong with her?” The words tumbled from my lips against my will. I already knew and was unsure why I needed to hear it from him.
Dianna shifted and resettled, a strand of hair falling across her cheek.
Eagerly I reached out to tuck it back behind her ear, my touch barely a whisper against her skin. I cared for her more than I wanted to admit to myself, and I had even told her. The words had left my lips of their own accord. I knew I shouldn’t because it would cause more harm than good, but I couldn’t control it, nor did I know if I wanted to.
I caressed her temple the same way she had done for me those long and bitter nights. I knew she was an Ig’Morruthen, a creature built for pure and utter destruction and my sworn enemy. The entire world knew it now, but at this moment, she resembled nothing more than an innocent woman whom Kaden had tried to turn cruel.
“She has overused her abilities to the extreme. Simply put, she is burned out.”
My hand hovered over her forehead once more, barely an inch above.
Light danced from my palm, but no swirling black mass followed. No fire rose to greet my power. I had done this so many times over the last week, and the results were always the same.
“How long do you think?” I lowered my hand. “Has this happened before?”
“I have not heard of such things, my liege. Powers like yours, like hers, are not common. We don’t know how they work or even why. It depends on her. She expelled an extreme amount of power even to open a portal from Yejedin. Even at her age of a thousand years, power of that magnitude must
be taught and trained. She has buried so much under grief and rage and has not processed it since her sister died. It may be days. It may be months, years, or never again.”
Sighing, I stared at her sleeping form. “I healed her wounds thinking she would wake up, but it’s been days.”
“It is not a physical ailment but an emotional one, and I am afraid Unir’s gifts cannot heal that.”
I studied her face as her brows drew together, reacting to whatever dream she was having.
“I feel it best for her to stay here. Until she is better, at least, and until you and the council have made your final judgment. She will be safe here.
No one knows of this place except The Hand, and they would rather cut their own throats than betray you.”
“Still an advisor to the gods, Roccurem? Even after all this time.”
“Yes, it appears so. I will admit it is peculiar to see you so enamored with one living being. It would seem it took a fiery temptress to tame the untamable.”
Tame. Is that what Dianna had done to me? It seemed such a small word for what I felt. She hadn’t tamed me. She’d healed me without even realizing it.
“You can return to the council, Roccurem, and let the others know I’ll be there after she wakes.”
“Are you going to tell her of your dreams?”
I looked at him. “No, and they don’t need to know either.”
“Even if it is a premonition of your inevitable demise?”
“Even then. If it is to happen, I need them ready.” My eyes returned to her, always to her. “All of them.”
He didn’t speak for a minute, and I knew he was scanning to see what outcome my decisions would make.
He didn’t move. “She will be furious once she learns.”
My nightmares plagued me day in and day out. My essence ripped from my body as my light bled into the sky, the gates opening with armies more vast than ever before. Stepping through into another realm, and that damn frost that chilled me to the bone.
“Roccurem, it is not your place to worry over what she may or may not
feel. Go back to the council halls.”
“Is that an order, god king?”
I gave him a stony stare. “Did it sound like a suggestion?”
“Very well.” He nodded once, taking a last look at Dianna before disappearing in the swirling starry mist.
It was ridiculous to be jealous. Logan had said that I did not make my feelings clear enough when she and I were together, something I intended to correct as soon as possible. I also knew she had shared her time with mortals during her grief. Not that I judged, but it hurt. Some part of me shattered when I found out she had shared her body with another after our time together. It was not a feeling I was used to.
Mortals shouldn’t bother me. I knew I was much more accomplished than them when it came to sex. It wasn’t until her that I started to question myself. I’d felt nervous and on edge since the beginning. Her words alone often made this weird fluttering feeling hit my gut. It was something I had never experienced. She got to me unlike any other.
Roccurem’s intentions didn’t seem nefarious, but it seemed I was a selfish bastard with her time. Even at that damned vampire mansion, I wanted it all. Her laughter, her smiles, and all of her attention. Selfish indeed. I wanted to be the one she turned to, not him, not mortals. Me.
As soon as the air settled from Roccurem’s departure, I leaned forward, resting my forehead against hers. “Please wake up. I don’t care if you hate me, are angry, or yell and scream. You can wish death upon me, but I need you to wake up. I need you here with me.”
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