Page 93 of Lord of the Lone Wolf
“It’s not your fault,” Maseo said. “It’s mine for wasting so much time with Kio and Phaedra because I believed misery was the best I could do.”
The skeleton moved its hand to stroke his hair, another gesture from his childhood that unlocked memories of comfort and safety. “You have always deserved to be loved,” she asserted with fierce conviction. “It is my biggest regret that you have a father who is incapable of it. But your suffering will soon end.”
She stepped closer, her bony arms encircling him in an embrace that should have felt wrong but carried the essence of every hug she had ever given him. “I promise the greatest happiness and love are waiting for you on the other side of this war.”
A broken sob escaped him as he held the skeleton that contained his mother’s soul. In his mind, he could smell the kalinia incense that always clung to her from her work at the Wish Power Temple, where she served as a wishmancer.
Before he could ask what she meant, a flash of light illuminated the clearing. Kitsuki stood at its edge, radiating power that crackled like lightning. His eyes burned silver with his dragon’s presence, and flames of the same color flickered around his sword as he raised it for attack.
Maseo threw himself in front of his mother’s skeleton, arms outstretched in desperate protection. “Wait!”
Kitsuki’s voice carried the dual timbre of dragon and man. “We cannot stay our hand when you are in danger. Step aside.”
“Please, it’s my mother, Corina!” Maseo pleaded, his heart racing with fear that he would lose her again. “Don’t hurt her, I beg of you.”
“That creature may have told you it was her, but it lies,” Kitsuki’s dragon growled. “We will not allow it to harm you.”
To Maseo’s surprise, his mother’s skeleton stepped around him, moving toward Kitsuki with dignified purpose. She gave a low, formal bow that spoke of respect rather than subservience. “It is an honor to meet you, Your Majesty.”
The dragon monarch held his flaming sword in a defensive position, his expression a mixture of suspicion and confusion. “Give me a reason not to sever your soul in half to destroy you for daring to take the form of his mother.”
“You are a good, honorable man who cares for my son,” she said with calm certainty. “You cannot strike me down when you know it will devastate Maseo to lose his beloved mother by your hand. We both know he has seen enough sorrow.”
Something shifted in Kitsuki’s expression. His dragon receded as compassion took its place. He lowered his sword butremained alert. “How do you still possess your rational mind and ability to speak? The necromancy should have stripped you of intelligence and will.”
“Because Nasume has never understood that I’m stronger than him and his hatred.” Pride resonated in her voice, a mother’s fierce love that even death could not diminish. She gestured toward Kitsuki’s neck. “May I?”
The dragon king raised his hand to cover the wish pendant hidden beneath his armor. “What do you intend to do?”
“Something that will allow you to defeat that awful man who has hurt you both.” Though her skeletal face could show no expression, the warmth in her tone conveyed what might have been a smile. “Please let me do what I can while I’m able to help. I don’t have much time left.” Her tone shifted, taking on an edge of amusement. “After all, I deserve a little revenge on Nasume for all the sorrows he has heaped upon my son. What better vengeance is there than making my son happiest with the person who would most hurt Nasume?”
Kitsuki’s gaze flicked to Maseo, uncertainty clear in his expression.
“The only thing more powerful than praying to Mireya for a wish to come true is a mother’s love.” With a gesture of her bony hand, the pendant around Kitsuki’s neck revealed itself, floating above his armor. The silver filigree cage held an orb pulsing with indigo light, the power that made wishes to Mireya possible.
Some of the blue light from her soulflame escaped her rib cage into the pendant. It entered through the openings in the silver filigree, merging with the magic within. The steady pulse of light shifted between indigo and blue. “Because you’re the one whowill grant my son’s greatest wish, I entrust my power to you. I can rest in peace knowing you and your mate will love my son the way he deserves.”
Her certainty left both men speechless. The pendant settled back against Kitsuki’s chest, the flames within dancing with new vitality. With a formal bow, she returned to Maseo.
She embraced him once more, her bony arms holding him with surprising strength. “I amsoproud of you, son,” she whispered, the words flowing into his heart. “I’ll always be watching over you from the Beyond Realm. Be happy with your mates. You’ve earned it.”
“Mates?” Maseo repeated, confusion cutting through his grief.
Her laughter was light and carefree, the sound transporting him to sun-dappled afternoons from his childhood to moments of safety and joy that had sustained him through years of darkness. “Enjoy knowing your father will fume for eternity in Blightmare Vale soon.”
“What are you talking about?” Maseo asked.
“I love you, Maseo.” She hugged him tighter, and he clung to her, memorizing being held by her a final time. “It’s your turn to be happy. Be well.”
“I love you, too,” Maseo whispered, the words inadequate to express the depth of what he felt.
Her blue soulflame flared, brightening until it was almost painful to look at. Then, with a soft sigh of contentment, it released its hold on the bones. The skeleton in his arms dissolved into dust that slipped through his fingers. The soulhovered for a moment before pressing a warm kiss to his forehead, then disappeared into the sky.
A sob tore from Maseo’s throat. He fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around himself as if trying to hold on to feeling her embrace. Tears streamed down his face, grief and gratitude warring within him. To have seen her again, to have felt her love once more, was a precious gift, but losing her a second time reopened an old wound to bleed anew.
Strong arms encircled him, pulling him against a solid chest. Kitsuki held him with surprising gentleness, cradling the back of Maseo’s head as he wept. He offered no platitudes about time healing all wounds. Instead, he held Maseo, allowing him a moment of vulnerability amid the war.
Maseo leaned into that strength, drawing courage from the embrace of someone who had seen his weakness and not turned away. The pendant between them pulsed with warmth, responding to their closeness. All he had ever wanted was somebody to hold him when he broke, who would offer shelter in the storm of his grief. The knowledge that his mother had approved of Kitsuki and deemed him worth trusting made the comfort feel less dangerous to accept.
