Page 29 of Mystique of the Fallen
With a large cup of coffee in his hand, Roman walked down the hall of the Ascension Center. That morning, he’d awoken with a burst of energy. From the beginning, Roman had enjoyed aiding new recruits as they adjusted to their future as fallen knights. In recent years, they’d added sentinels to the mix, and it had only increased Roman’s love for teaching.
The next eight weeks would add tremendously to his daily duties as a Venerable Knight, but Roman didn’t mind. In fact, with so much personal turmoil plaguing him, the extra work was welcome—which was why he’d awoken earlier than usual to get to the training facility. He couldn’t wait to be swamped so he could fall into bed at night too tired to allow his brain to travel along murky paths of all the potential danger Grant might be facing.
A single room was the domain of the Arch Lich, and that was where he resurrected the men and women who’d spend their immortal lives keeping the Council safe. Roman arrived at the door and noticed the light haze of dark smoke floating under it. Highly experienced with how much of Chander’s magic was left in the air after a resurrection, Roman knew a new fallen knight was alive but probably had yet to open his or her eyes.
Eager to meet them and walk them to their dorm, Roman swung the door open and sucked in a deep breath. The fruity smell of limes was intense, and Roman swore the room spun. The mug in his hand slipped from his grasp and shattered as it hit the tiles. An erection tented his uniform pants, but Roman ignored it.
His gaze swung to the bed where a man lay. The sight of him was like a physical blow to Roman’s chest. He staggered back a step. His knees buckled. Roman’s spine hit the wall. With trembling limbs, he splayed his fingers against the smooth drywall to keep his balance.
“Roman, what’s wrong?” Chander barked, his voice sharp with concern.
Roman’s mind reeled. Gone were the pretty blond highlights, but he would recognize his mate anywhere. There, lying on the bed as a new fallen knight, was Grant. Roman bit his lip. Tears wet his cheeks. Danger had found Grant. While Roman had worried and decorated his damn house, Grant had died.
“Answer me, dammit,” Chander demanded, stepping around the ceramic shards to take a firm grip on Roman’s arm.
“Talk to us,” Baxter pleaded.
Benton followed Chander and held out a hand to aid Roman.
“It’s him,” Roman whispered. “It’s him.”
“Who?” Chander asked.
“Him,” Roman repeated as he slid to the floor.
Refusing to release him, Chander sank to his knees and used his free hand to turn Roman’s face toward him. Chander’s pewter gaze was both resolute and empathetic.
“Who is he?” Chander asked. “Tell me who I just resurrected and why you’re so freaked out.”
“Grant,” Roman managed. His erection was long gone, but the scent of limes still filled his nose as his brain and heart tried to catch up with the present.
“Fuck,” Chander muttered beneath his breath. “I’m sorry.”
“He died, Chand,” Roman said. “How? How is this possible?”
“I don’t know whether to apologize to you for resurrecting your mate or be grateful Fate gave me this ability to return him to you,” Chander said. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
Roman’s teeth chattered, and he dragged his fingers through his hair. “He died. But…but now he’s here. He’shere.”
“And immortal,” Benton said. “He can’t die again, Roman. Fate and Chand have given you a second chance. He has no memory. He won’t know you. Except you’ve been in the room together, so he can only respond to you. He’s yours now. Forever. It sucks that he died, but focus on the good. You have a clean slate. Nothing will bring his human life back to him. You didn’t bind your souls.”
“Get Drystan and Conley in here,” Chander ordered Baxter. “Roman, what do you need? How can we help you? He’s going to wake up soon. Do you want to be here when he opens his eyes?”
Roman shook his head, sick to his stomach for what Grant had suffered. “No. No, the next eight weeks are going to be tough. Hell, the next three days, as he deals with his resurrection, will suck. The last thing he needs is me here. I don’t know how to feel. I don’t know what to think.”
Benton rushed forward to cup Roman’s elbow. “Let me help you up. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of him. Make sure he gets his bearings.”
The door swung open, and Conley swooped in. Benton helped Roman up, and Conley took him into his arms.
“Grant died,” Roman whispered brokenly as he clung to Conley. Drystan’s palm landed on Roman’s shoulder, and he appreciated the comfort of the Reverent Knights.
“I take it he’s our first recruit?” Drystan asked, his voice tight.
“What’s his last name?” Chander asked. “No reason we need to give him a new identity.”
“I don’t know,” Roman replied. “He never told me.”
“That’s okay, we’ll find him a great one,” Chander said. “Don’t worry about a damn thing. I can’t tell you everything is going to be fine because no one knows that. But we’re going to take care of your mate. No one can hurt him again. That I can fucking promise you.”
