Page 65 of Warlords, Witches & Wolves

Chapter 9

Ragnar pushed himself hard in his rush to return to Absolon. The land passed in a blur and with the moon hiding her face, he could run on the open road. He retraced his journey, fearful at every moment that he might go the wrong way. He had no name for the village near Absolon’s farm so couldn’t ask a peasant or soldier for directions. All he could trust was that he had remembered the route.

He took over two days to reach the farm, stopping at the boundary where the forest gave way to the field. The ground had turned sodden and muddy from rain, and frost clung to the dirt. The red farmstead had none of the grandeur of the castle he’d come from, nor the riches he’d left behind as if they were nothing but scraps. But it contained Absolon, and that’s all that mattered.

This was where Absolon wanted to be. This was the quiet life that Absolon wanted to have. Here he could lose himself in the fantasy of a working farm filled with animals, a field that grew, was harvested, lay fallow, and grew again. It could give their lives some rhythm beyond the eternal endlessness that was now their lot.

Because they weren’t like mortal men.

And what could mortal men do that they could not overcome?

He crossed the field. On the journey he’d thought a lot about what he would say to win Absolon back. He’d apologize and beg for his forgiveness. He’d tell him he was wrong to leave, that he was weak, and that Absolon had given him so much—both immortality and his heart—that he would be forever grateful. His blood tickled with the thrill of seeing him again, of finally being where he should always have been—by Absolon’s side. As he neared the door, he called out Absolon’s name.

It opened and Absolon filled the frame.

Ragnar’s heart lifted, raising his lips into a smile.

But there was no such happiness on Absolon’s face. “What do you want?” The flatness in his voice had a sharp edge.

This was not going to be as easy as he expected.

He sank down onto his knees and clasped his hands together to plead. “I’ve come back to you. I’ve realized how wrong I was to leave you behind. I ran away. I was scared. But I now know how much you love me and how much you were trying to help me. I’m sorry for leaving like I did. Will you forgive me?”

“No.”

Ragnar blinked. No? “What do you mean?” He’d come back. He’d apologized. He’d done the right thing. What more did Absolon want?

“I mean, no. Fuck off and leave me in peace.” Absolon retreated into the house and prepared to slam the door.

It couldn’t end like this.

Ragnar surged to his feet and blocked the door from closing. “Sol, please. I came back for you.”

“I’ve heard enough of your lies to last me until my final days and soon I’ll be free of them forever. You could at least have the decency to give me freedom until then.”

“Final days? Sol, what do you mean?”

Absolon gave the door one final push but it wasn’t enough to expel Ragnar from the house. He let go and turned away in disgust. “I’m ending it. I have eight days left then I’m going to my death.”

Absolon’s words winded him. He couldn’t mean it, could he? “No, Sol, please, you can’t do this.” He staggered towards him. “Not because of me.”

Absolon sneered. “You think I do this because of you? I do this for me. My whole life people have taken advantage of me for their own gain. My mother did it, my brothers and sisters, the generals, Lysander, and of course you.” He jabbed at the air with his finger. “You took more from me than anyone has ever taken. You took my love, you destroyed my spirit, and you stole my soul.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

Fire flashed in Absolon’s eyes. “You didn’t care. That was the problem. You didn’t care what you took; you just took it, because you thought it was your right. And then you manipulated me into turning you into what I am. You made me believe that you wanted it so you could be with me and we would finally be equals.”

Absolon dragged his fingers through his hair and his fists tightened in his locks. “And in my stupidity and my weakness, I relented. You know, I actually thought you would run away if I turned you. I spent two days arguing with myself about it, but like a fool I believed you were capable of love. That you wouldn’t do that to me. So I gave you what I promised I’d never curse another human being with, and what did you do? You left.” He waved his hand through the air as capriciously as Ragnar had been in his flight. “You barely stayed a day. Well, I’m sick of being used, and sick of contemplating an eternity with you haunting me. You can have it all. Have the glory that you so crave. Hell, you can even have the farm once I’m gone. And you can have a life free of anyone loving you ever again.” Absolon towered over him and the hate carved his face into a death mask. “Now fuck off and let me have my wish. You can at least give me that.”

He brushed past him, but Ragnar grabbed his arm and spun him round.

“Absolon, please, I’m sorry I did all that to you. I know how much hurt I have caused you, how I have wronged you, but please, you cannot do this. You cannot give yourself over to death when you have been given this gift.”

“It’s not a gift, it’s a curse!"

“You’re wrong, Sol.” He sank to his knees. He would beg plead on broken glass if it showed the depth of his penance. But all he could use was his words. “It’s a gift, because I have an eternity with you. I have been back through my old life and I have seen how wrong I was. Revenge left me hollow and I understand now it wasn’t what I’d been craving. I was blind to the love you gave me because it frightened me. I was afraid I wouldn’t be worthy of anyone’s love, least of all yours.”

Absolon’s hand hung limp in his grasp. Acid dripped through Ragnar’s veins. If he didn’t fight for Absolon, he would be bound for a barren eternity.

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