Page 9 of The Cruel Dawn
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Strong arms. A gentle touch. Fierce and fearless.
On the last day we were together, right before I was dropped into that forest outside of Maford, he’d kissed me. Mera don’t glow plum like mortals, but I’d known that he wanted me, that he loved me. But then I chased that thief into Maford, and my life changed, and my heart swayed, and I fell in love with another. And now, as I stand before Zephar, my face burns with shame and guilt for not trying hard enough to return to him.
As tall as a date palm, as broad as a river, and larger than any man in this realm, Zephar is still not his true size because he is Diminished—punished by the Council of High Orders for breaking the rules. Like me, his strengths and abilities have also been muted. He moves slower than he used to, and his punches land softer, though to a mortal, still deadly. Zephar can only travel the realm by foot and not by Spryte, which is simply thinking “Maford,” andpop, you’re in Maford. Strips of his tawny skin hide beneath crimson symbols, orbs and connecting vines that signify the realms he’s destroyed. There is the raindrop of Melki Realm. There is the mountain peak of Yoffa and the seashell of Ithlon, the realm of my childhood, the realm that I destroyed without permission.
Zephar had poets write songs for me, and sometimes, Zephar would sing them.
Before the world began,
I loved you even then.
You held my heart and hand
And found my joy within…
Zephar would woo me with lavish dinners, and we’d lose ourselves in drink and honey and clouds of incense. He’d punished those who spoke against me, and all knew that if they fucked with me, they fucked with him. We’d recline beside a fire or near a stream, and I’d trace the ink on his chest and back, mountains, raindrops, snowflakes, and arrows, and those symbols that spelled ZEPHAR MERA, BREAKER OF REALMS. His skin always pebbled from my touch.
I see no new markings right now, but I haven’t seen all of him…yet.
“Kai,” Zephar says as I melt into his arms. He feels solid, familiar, like home. His face lightens as he lifts my chin. “It’s you.”
I smile and shiver from his touch. “It’s you.”
He places the lightest, sweetest kiss upon my forehead, and then he feathers another kiss across my lips.
My stomach tumbles with desire as I caress his cheek. “You found me. Right on time.”
The daxinea sent me here to save Gasho and its people—and as reward, I also found my love. I search the skies but see no sign of that magical bird, the last of her kind on this realm.
Zephar lifts an eyebrow and says, “You’ve been away since last spring, but I remained yours.”
My tongue stiffens—I can’t say the same. It’s been such a long spring. And then I hear what he’s just said…
“I’ve been gone for twelve months?” My hands tingle, and I squeeze my numb fingers.
“Yep.”
“Shari,” I say, looking around. “Where is she?”
He shrugs, distracted only by me.
But I see her, realm-sized now but still wolf-big. The Warden of the Unseen Step romps with the sheep dogs, and her pink tongue hangs from the side of her mouth.
Zephar’s rum-colored eyes brighten until they’re nearly translucent. He squints at my amulet. “Still dark?”
I glance down at the moth and nod. “Yeah.”
“You have me again,” he says. “Let the Council of High Orders keep their toys.” He flicks his hand even thoughhis“toy” still hangs around his neck, weakly lit but lit enough to slow time. He kisses my hand, cups it to his cheek, and leads me up a pathway of brown- and cream-colored mosaic tiles.
I take another quick sip from his flask. “This can’t be water. It’s so good.”
“Just water, Beloved.” He lifts an eyebrow and chuckles. “You’ve been roughing it, huh?” He points to the healers now holding golden pails and inspecting a dry fountain. “And they’re back to healing the Gashoans’ aqueducts again.”
Golden pails. Sybel Fynal, the Lady of Dawn and Dusk, carried golden pails of water from the forests to the wells outside of Maford.
“Where are the guards?” I ask. “Amus and Ilil and the rest?”
