Page 47 of Magic Hunted
His words rang through my mind. The king killed himself for the grimoire, but I had the feeling it was more for this female none of them even knew existed. There was no bond riding him and forcing a choice from him. He’d chosen freely.
Just like the alphas were choosing.
I shifted on the chair and rubbed my hands on my thighs and told Taredd of my vision, knowing the alphas were listening too. I told them what I’d seen of the king and why he’d put so much of himself into the grimoire.
“This is what you planned for our mate? This type of life? Did you know the pain this would cause her when you made her strong enough to bear this magic?” I flinched at the frayed edges of Ashir’s anger resonating through his tone. The vehemence that was directed at the elves. For me. He was angryfor me.
I had no soul-light to guide me, but I saw just as clearly without it. It was all there. The muscle ticking at his temple. His clenched fists. The hard gleam in his eyes. My throat tightened, my chest squeezing.
“She’s not a toy for you to play with,” Dias said. My head spun to catch the tight set of his jaw and the fire in his eyes.
“She never was a toy. What we did was with the gravest intentions, believe us. This is the first word I’ve had of our king in a millennium,” Shanyirra said. She looked tired. Exhausted. I wasn’t one hundred percent on board with what they’d done, but I could understand it. “And we are grateful for it.”
Taredd’s shoulders dropped and I could almost taste his hopelessness. My sole task in life was to look for pieces of a puzzle and put them together. A secret here. An action there. To stack little pieces of a giant unknown puzzle together to see a bigger picture. An image shone in my mind as small irregular edges snapped into place against other edges.
Everything I thought I knew about the grimoire crumbled in a second. Every conception of what it was had been destroyed. “Your king understood what creating the grimoire would do.”
I thought of Cedar’s face. Of the twisted anguish that hollowed my gut. King Cedar had sacrificed himself to create the grimoire. No wonder the elves wanted it back. It was a part of their king, not just their magic.
“He’s…missing and we’ve never been able to find him. Not him or his bond-brothers, alphas Calder or Ryland.” Shanyirra’s white eyes dulled when she lifted her head and her gaze found mine. “He couldn’t be deterred when he created it. Said it was the only way.”
“He did it for her,” I whispered.
The king was no different from the alphas. The king had sacrificed for this female. Enough to expend too much magic into a grimoire that he knew would kill him and his bond brothers.
And he hadn’t felt the pull of the bond to make him do that either. I felt sick. And tired. And confused. Worn down beyond my years, I focused on the only thing that made sense, and that was saying something.
I rubbed my forehead, a headache pounding inside my skull. Savvas took my hand, picked up the chair on the floor and guided me to sit. “She’s tired and hungry.”
He was more concerned with my comfort than the fact I’d had another vision, which only set my confusion spinning into another level. His hand curved on my shoulder. The weight I thought might be a burden was a comfort.
Dias knelt next to me, his gaze roaming my face. “You need to rest, Haera. You look exhausted.”
I’d been trained in combat and subterfuge for most of my life. I ignored being exhausted because to give into it was a weakness. How I felt meant nothing.
They didn’t have to do anything for me, but the air infused with Dias’ fresh earth scent, reminding me of the jungle after a rainstorm before the humidity had a chance to settle in. In the space of time when the earth was washed clean and the air was still cool.
They weren’t worried about the vision I’d had. Or the magic that was mine as well as the grimoire. Merely accepted my flaws without a second thought. Why would be they be that way? Why would they think that? It made no sense. I’d given them an out and yet they were more determined than ever to stay close to me. To care for me.
I’d done everything to protect the alphas. I wouldn’t bring the elves down on them too because my mind was reeling in shock that had nothing to do with the vision and everything to do with the alphas who still chose to protect me without the bond riding them.
Suddenly, I was so, so tired. My limbs weighed down as heavy as my mind. I could sleep for a week. I plucked the dress I’d worn for days, feeling the sticky coating of sweat on my body. The dunk in the frigid water was the last time I’d washed. My hair was lank and I probably smelled as bad as I felt.
Ashir stood behind me, the hairs on the back of my neck prickling with awareness. He didn’t touch me. He didn’t have to because my every internal sense was riveted onto him. “We would like to care for our mate. She’ll rest before you ask anything more of her.”
“You’d probably like to bathe first,” Shanyirra said.
I almost groaned at the thought of washing all this grime off me.
“Yes. And we’ll help her,” Ashir said, his alpha dominance washing over me. What was worse was that my panther purred her agreement.
I gaped at him. His eyes found mine. His brow lifted as though in challenge. “I can do it myse—”
“It will be our pleasure,” Ashir said, coming up so close that his body heat simmered against my back and the crowded arguments in my head vanished as though they’d never existed.
“No doubt you’d like some fresh clothing too.” My focus spun to Shanyirra but she was already pulling a basket from the shelving and set it in the table. I spied a bar of soap and jars with a lavender gel-like substance as she disappeared into the bedroom and came out with an armful of clothes.
Heat blossomed on my cheeks and my mouth watered at the stack of clothes she held. Not just another thin black sheath, but proper clothing. Pants. A vest and shirt. The thought of a bath and fresh clothing was something I was too weak to deny.
