Page 2 of War Games

There were also beings who could defend themselves from her if she ever decided to attack them on this front. She could name a few, whispers of names on the wind, like the youngQueen of the Nagas. Names powerful enough that they impacted the very magic of the world, forever marking the invisible landscape with their abilities.

Her father had been one of those beings, the curse so greatly shielding him that she found it impossible to even brush up against his mind and its defenses without him noticing. She had learned that early on and never made the mistake again. She also never used it in war, not wanting to reveal it due to the downsides. It left her vulnerable. Her body was home sleeping becauseshewas not in it.

She had only shared a hint of this great power with her eldest son, and she had been careful not to show too much, only doing what was absolutely necessary to save her son’s heart and the woman who held it. Jabari was uncurious about magic and that was the only time in his life she had been grateful for that. She had never wanted to show too much to her children.

Subira had never wanted them to fear her. There was always some intelligent fear they had for her, but she was so very careful not to give them enough fear to run from her. A flash of fear could be overcome. If they knew how easily she could crack through the natural defenses of someone’s mind and rip their sanity to pieces from the inside, they would fear her beyond what a mother’s love could soften and heal. It would permanently destroy the bonds she so desperately wanted to have with them.

She and Hasan decided to keep this between them. She used her power to close the gap between them when the physical distance was too far for them. He was once a rogue, wandering the world until a small soul needed his help, and he brought the child home. She never needed to miss him. He was always right there, just across the mate bond, and her mind could so easily slip into his, and they could share this together.

She looked back at the hut and sighed.

Due to some quirk of her ability, the mate bond, or the two combined, she couldn’t actually read Hasan’s mind. He opened the door, and while she was in his mind, she didn’t have full power here to change the scene or to know his thoughts. Others wouldn’t be able to defend against her knowing everything, but going through the mate bond didn’t give her full access, and she had never entered his mind any other way. It could have been a number of other things as well, like an accidental limit she had put on herself and found no way to overcome. It wasn’t an active attempt on his part, that much she knew with certainty.

She knew what he had done here, communicating enough without opening his mouth. This was her place, a place he was invited to, not the other way around. It might be in his mind, but the hut, the river, and the land were still allhers.

You deviously intelligent man. You can’t say anything, but you have shown me everything I need to see right now. You are very lucky I love you as much as I do.

She went back into the hut, finally ready to deal with the problem.

“Enough of this,” she snapped, grabbing one of the silver chains and pulling. It didn’t burn her hand, but the smell of what it did to him hit her nose, the memory changing to account for that detail. “You will not soil this place with your self-loathing,” she snarled, yanking harder.

He didn’t fight, letting her begin pulling the chains off him, but something was fighting her. Not him, but something else. She couldn’t see what, and that made her realize something new.

“Crafted this place for us to hide the truth from me, coward?” she hissed as she leaned close to his face. He closed his eyes as he shook his head. She knew that wasn’t his intent, but they were meant to be harsh words, not true ones. He had brought her to the place where she had all the power to say the harsh things. Whatever those chains meant, he needed her power and controlover him to finally deal with them. That’s what the memory had needed to tell her because he had no idea how to ask for help.

“Look at me, Hasan, and show me what really plagues your mind. Show me the truth. Show me where these chains came from. Don’t make me force it from you.”

When his eyes opened, they were full of dismay, full of pain, full of hatred for himself, and they were a brilliant and unique gold only three werecats ever had. There were other shades of gold, all more natural, all easier to stare down, but they weren’t this gold. The gold eyes of her father, her mate, and her daughter were only theirs.

The scene finally changed, the watercolor scene of their past dripping away as darkness consumed it, and she saw the wraith of grief holding the chains on him. Hands reaching out of the darkness of his mind, forcing him to be chained and alone, attempting to drag him into the darkness, forever lost to her and under the power of the wraith. The wraith wore their daughter’s face, warped by rage, betrayal, and pain.

Subira looked at Liza’s face on the wraith and felt cold claws rake her heart as it attacked her. It couldn’t do real damage. It wasn’t a real wraith in the world but a manifestation of the damage her death did to Hasan, one he had kept so carefully hidden from Subira for over a century. Because it had been so carefully hidden, it had become a powerful thing in his mind, and…

“I failed her,” he whispered. “And now I’m failing Jacky.”

And it was being fueled by the damage it wreaked through him.

“No and yes,” Subira growled, staring at the wraith. She had loved Liza. Sweet Liza.

This was not Liza.

Grief and guilt had eaten at Subira for a long time as well, but she grew up in a harsher reality than Hasan. Hasan believedhe could keep their children safe, and when they weren’t, it was directly his fault. Subira was not so foolish. She knew if her children got themselves in a dangerous position, she only had so much power. She could train them and pass along what wisdom she had, but it was their job touseit.

Once they demanded independence, they had to deal with the consequences of that independence. She could pick them up, brush them off, and offer help when and where she could, but she couldn’t be everywhere and do everything. She expected that of no one, not even herself. They had to face their own challenges, to overcome and grow from what they faced in life or fall.

Liza had fallen. It had broken their hearts.

But in the end, she had fallen, not because they had failed her, but because she did not heed them.

“I told her that her soft heart was beautiful, but she needed to be ready to defend herself,” Subira snarled. “I told her to stop skipping training sessions because her heart wasn’t in the violence. I told her that she had to be willing to fight for those she loved and for herself. You told her all the same, Hasan. While it was tragic, it was not our fault she died.”

“You will not blame?—”

“It was hers!” Subira roared in his face, cutting off the weak, loving father argument he wanted to counter her with. “She had years of training. She had years of education. She grew up in our family. She thought her name and relation to us would let her live peacefully. She was a naïve idealist, and we loved her for it, but we never looked away from the truth of our world, even in our most hopeful moments. Shedid.” Subira yanked the chains harder, gaining ground on the wraith. She could remember the arguments with Liza. She would stomp her foot and say she hated training, thought violence was unnecessary, that she couldjust talk to people, and that there was no reason she had to hurt anyone. “She didn’t want to face reality.”

“How could you?—”

“Hasan, listen to me. No, she didn’t ask werewolves to attack her. No, she didn’t want to die and leave us like that. She didn’t deserve any of it. Not the pain she faced or left behind.” Subira grabbed his face with one hand while the other kept pulling the chains against the wraith. She was an old werecat. Her form was small in both forms she could take, but she was over five thousand years old. There was very little that could match her power physically, not just magically. With one hand, she could force a standstill.

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