Page 92 of A War of Embers

All of a sudden the pressure ceases, a calm settling over everything. Where Lady Gwenyth’s forceful invasion would send my fight instincts kicking in, Rowan’s presence is…nice. Comforting. Warm. I don’t know what he’s doing in there, but it’s a far cry from the icy fingers I’m used to, plucking information I don’t want to share.

“Fuck,” Rowan mutters again, a thunderous storm raging in his eyes. “I can see it.”

I want to scream, see what? But the truth is, I don’t want to know what he’s seeing inside my head, what secrets he’s uncovering.

Abruptly, Rowan dips down and presses his lips to mine. Thankfully the calmness he’s exuding is helping the change of emotion. My mouth opens, allowing his tongue to dip inside and tangle with my own.

The kiss is sweet compared to the other times we’ve done this. Taking our time versus the ravishing usually accompanying our kissing. Tentatively my hands move to Rowan’s waist, curling in on the side of his silky shirt. A sense of peace envelops me the more I give in to his sweeping tongue as he owns every part of me with a gentle caress.

Slowly he pulls away, his eyes shut as he breathes deeply several times before his eyelids flicker and the mossy green orbs are taking me in with a sense of understanding. Rowan doesn’t step back as he cups my chin in his hand, guiding my face so we don’t lose eye contact as he straightens to his full height, still pressed against my front. I can feel his erection digging into my stomach, but since he’s refusing to acknowledge it, I do the same.

“Being here is allowing your body to grow at a rate it wasn’t capable of in Tellus,” Rowan says quietly. “All these emotions, these feelings riding you, is what you would have slowly been introduced to had you not been taken from your parents. You’re one of mine, of that I have no doubt.” His breath blows across my face as he sighs, the minty aroma like a balm to my souls. “You’re unfortunately overloading in emotions unknown to you before now. The storm will die off at some point, rationality will pull through your muddled thoughts.”

This indescribable feeling of my mind fighting my heart will end. The solace of his vow settles my nerves, the fight or flight instinct calming greatly by his declaration. I will survive this.

“Your pain is riding you constantly,” Rowan adds, his voice still gentle. “It’s affecting your decision-making capabilities. I saw them, the people you slaughtered in your mind, through the eyes of your assassin souls.” He brushes a quick kiss across my forehead. “Leaving your realm left you vulnerable to your acts, allowing the emotions you would have normally felt during those times to suddenly slam into you. Your erratic behavior is controlling your thoughts and movements.” He bends down until we’re eye level, a fierce look of determination on his face. “You are not allowed to feel blame for what you have done, little monster. You are not the Slayer of Cinnabar, you are worthy of finding your peace. Here. With me.”

It sounds so easy when he says it like that. My voice barely comes out above a whisper, “What if I can’t do it?”

“You’re stronger than you believe. You come from the Wraithlands, the home of monsters, and you are strong. I have the utmost faith in your ability to heal from this.”

Funny how Rowan’s version of healing is in direct opposition to mine. Healing to him is learning to live with every emotion, brought on by every deed I’ve done, but to live with the burden all the same. Whereas mine is to rid myself of the evil I produced in this world by ensuring no one will ever come to be harmed by my hands again.

Bringing up his finger, Rowan taps my temple. “I’m still in here. I know why you’re trying to distance yourself from me, from everyone, but it’s useless.”

Scowling, though there’s not much anger behind it, I swat his hand away from my head. “Well, you’ve had your fill. You can get out now.”

“I thought you didn’t want to live and had a death wish to do anything in your path to get to that point,” Rowan tells me, stepping back to give me space. He cocks his head to the side. “You want to protect everyone from yourself, not drag them down with you.”

Really hating how easily he’s able to read me now. “I told you I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I’ve never wanted to hurt an innocent person.”

“All your rage is directed at Lady Gwenyth,” he agrees. “I don’t know if she’s the one who’s been invading my territories to steal the younglings, but she has to be aware of it if she was in control of you.”

Pulling in a deep, centering breath, I try to force my mind to quiet so we can continue this conversation. I need more information about my past, which means I need to know how they’re going missing. “How was I taken?”

Frowning, Rowan leans back against the closest table. “I don’t know. For hundreds of years, children go missing. In the beginning, it was thought they wandered off and were killed by one of the many unstable creatures who inhabit the Wraithlands. At one point it became obvious the children were not disappearing of their own free will.” He scrubs his hand on his whiskered jaw. “This issue predates the Province Wars. Though creatures did fight on both sides, it became obvious after Tellus’ loss to gain control of the Cliff of Embers that they wanted to rebuild their army of misfits. But I don’t permit the creatures to leave my realm.”

“So someone from Tellus comes here.”

“Or someone from here is colluding with Tellus to strengthen their army.” A logical explanation, but one that fills me with anger. Stealing children, babes who know no other person than their family, torn away to aid in a war they were not born a part of.

“It’s possible,” Rowan allows, a growl slipping into his voice. “I don’t like the idea of my people turning against me, but it is a possibility someone is aiding those in Tellus.”

“What about your mother? The Blood Witch would have to grant them access.”

“She only assists mortals.”

My eyes narrow at how easily he deflects my opinion. “She was willing to help me until she realized she couldn’t,” I point out. “She could be bribed, just like anyone else. I don’t know for what, but let’s not dismiss it entirely without knowing the truth.”

Rowan inclines his head, though the motion is begrudgingly done. “Alright. And you have no memories of being raised there.”

“I figure I’m so old they must have declined with my memory.”

Immediately Rowan shakes his head. “No, your memories have been tampered with. I cannot get them back, but it’s easy for me to tell whatever lies you were fed are what you believe. The small glimpses of them and such. But they wouldn’t have been your biological family, but the host family in Tellus taking care of you.”

“When do you think Lady Gwenyth took my soul and replaced it with one she could control?” I ask.

Sorrow briefly flashes across his face. “Probably immediately. She may have given you the godlike soul first, but the godlike power would have been destructible to her domain since you were merely a babe. She used the immortal souls to hide the godlike one she got her hands on. Your monstrous soul from here was probably extinguished.”

---