Page 92 of Lord of the Lone Wolf
The wind screamed a song of gravity in his ears. The ground rushed up to claim its king. Before impact, he was seized in an embrace of iron-hard scale and muscle.Uncle Jaega.
A fortress of loyal dragons formed a protective barrier around them, a shield of wings descending toward the hard-won safety of their lines. The world swam, battle cries and roars dissolvinginto a muted tapestry of sound and color. The unyielding iron of his uncle’s grip was the only thing keeping him grounded.
Kitsuki heard Jaega barking orders for the best auramancer healers to attend them, but it felt like everything was happening to someone else. He wanted to resist. Maseo fought without the protection Kitsuki had promised him. But his efforts had left him too weak to stand, let alone lead or protect. He’d only get himself killed if he tried.
Jaega carried him into his tent and placed him on his bed. When Kitsuki attempted to sit up, his uncle’s hands became insistent, pushing him back down. “Nephew, I beg you to be reasonable. You cannot protect anyone when you are moments away from greeting the soulkeepers at the doorstep of the Beyond Realm. Let the auramancers work their magic to heal you, and then you can finish this war with Nasume in full health. We promised our mates we would return safely, and the only way to do that is for them to restore your strength to full power.”
The fight went out of Kitsuki, his body sagging onto the mattress under the weight of his exhaustion. “You are right, as always, Uncle.”
Jaega caressed his nephew’s hair with paternal affection, filling Kitsuki’s heart with love for his uncle. “It is a testament to your immense power that you survived. Be proud of yourself, nephew. I certainly am. Even your father would be impressed.”
Kitsuki soaked up the praise, using it to rally his waning energy as he waited for the auramancers. He could feel Auslin reaching out through their bond. Kitsuki did his best to hide his weakened condition and reassure him across the long distance. His mate could never know the monumental risk Kitsuki took to save the lives of his warriors.
The sky above Norello Castle had cleared of necrowings, but the war was far from over. Kitsuki would be ready for Nasume, meeting his hatred with justice and his necromancy with the pure magic of life.
He would fight for his kingdom, for his people, for his bondmate, and for the half-shifter who had somehow become so important to him.
The war raged outside the tent, with no end in sight. Yet Kitsuki was determined to achieve victory at any cost. Once the auramancers restored his energy, he would return to the battlefield to fight alongside his warriors and make sure Maseo was still safe.
Chapter 32
Maseo
Nothing could have prepared Maseo for the horrors of battle against the lichen. Their skeletal forms moved with unnatural grace, ancient armor hanging from their frames from long-forgotten wars. Each step brought the clicking of bones against bone, a sound that raised the hair on his neck and sent ice through his veins.
Sweat stung Maseo’s eyes as he ducked beneath a rusted axe, the weapon passing so close that he felt the disturbance in the air. He countered with a swift strike to the lichen’s ribs, his sword finding the gap between bones to pierce the glowing green soul within. The skeleton collapsed into dust that scattered in the wind as the soul turned white and flew to the Beyond Realm.
Another lichen was already upon him, its blade descending in a brutal arc. Maseo parried, the impact jarring his injured shoulder. The ring on his finger remained cold and inert, offering no protection against the undead warrior. He had learned that lesson early in the battle, when a lichen’s blade had carved into his skin.
In the back of his mind, he was concerned about Kitsuki’s well-being after his massive display of power in eradicating the necrowings and soulvores. He had glimpsed the king’s dragon form faltering in the sky, his wings beating as he struggled to remain airborne before falling as a man. Jaega had caught him in time, but worry gnawed at Maseo’s heart.
But he couldn’t dwell on it. The lichen continued their relentless advance, an endless tide of the undead washing over the battlefield. For each one he cut down, ten more appeared to take its place.
Maseo was so focused on the fight that he didn’t realize he had become separated from the main battle until he found himself alone in a small clearing. The sudden absence of enemies left him disoriented. He could hear steel clashing in battle, the shouts of the living, the unnatural groaning of the undead, but they seemed distant, as if coming from another world.
Not wanting to abandon his position, Maseo turned to return to the area he had strayed from. But a single word stopped him cold.
“Maseo.”
The voice was hollow, echoing as if spoken through a vast emptiness. Yet beneath the otherworldly distortion lay a cadence he had carried in his memory for years, clinging to it during the darkest moments of his life.
“Mother?” The word escaped him in shock as hope and disbelief warred in his chest.
He turned, afraid of what he might or might not see. A skeleton stood at the edge of the clearing, its bones gleaming white in the sunlight filtering through the surrounding trees. Unlike theother lichen he had been fighting, it wore no armor and carried no weapon. Most striking was the soul at its center and the fire in its eye sockets wasn’t the noxious green of necromancy, but a soft, luminous blue that pulsed with soothing light that reminded him of his wish pendant.
It moved toward him with a grace that spoke of life rather than death, its movements fluid and purposeful. When it neared him, it raised its hands, weathered bone fingers extending toward his face with heartbreaking gentleness. Maseo stood frozen, unable to retreat or advance, caught in a moment suspended between terror and desperate longing.
The skeletal hands cupped his cheeks, the touch not draining him as the other lichen had. The familiar gesture transcended flesh and bone as the thumbs brushed against his skin lovingly. “My beautiful pup,” it said with more warmth than death should ever contain. “What a fine young man you’ve grown into.”
A dam holding back years of grief and loneliness broke inside Maseo. Tears spilled down his cheeks as he stared into the blue flames burning in the eye sockets and saw the echo of his mother’s eyes that had looked at him with love when no one else would.
“It can’t be you,” he whispered in shock. “You’ve been gone for so long.”
The skeleton’s head tilted, a gesture so reminiscent of his mother that it sent fresh pain through his heart. “Unfortunately, your father is a vicious man,” she said, the blue flames dimming with sadness. “He had Ishibiya summon me to kill you. But neither of them understands that a mother who loves her son could never raise a hand to hurt him.”
One last twist of the knife by using his most precious memory as a weapon was something Nasume would do. Maseo sheathed his sword as tears flowed down his face. “I’ve missed you so much, Mother.” His hands trembled as he placed them over the bony fingers still cradling his cheeks. In his mind, he could feel her soft, warm skin.
“I’m sorry your life has been filled with such sorrows after I left you alone.” A finger wiped away a tear, the gesture so tender it threatened to shatter what remained of his composure. She continued. “I never realized when I asked Mireya for a lifetime of love and happiness for you, you would first pay the price of so many miserable years of abuse and sadness. I can only pray you’ll forgive me.”
