Heart of a Rocky (6 page)

“For those not already dressed, you are dismissed to prepare for Derrick’s Passing. We will reconvene in twenty minutes.”

Nearly everyone left the hall to change, leaving all the Rockys and Eryka, who kept shooting sad glances at the platform.

“Eryka, do you know if Derrick had a Cloth of Mourning? If so, where is it?”

She turned her head slowly to face him, taking him in as if he’d spoken in tongues. He repeated himself, and she nodded.

“It’s in the wooden chest in his office.”

Trent stepped forward and offered to retrieve it, an offer Omar accepted. He then gave Liam the order to escort Eryka back to her quarters to change. To Stella, he gave the task of informing the pride on the compound grounds—roughly fifteen in number—of Derrick’s Passing as well as the Passing of the guards they’d killed the night before.

Tyson helped set up the platforms for the guards and placed their bodies on the top. They’d found the Cloth of Mourning for each of the guards the night before, so their bodies had been prepared and lay nude beneath their respective silk sheets.

Omar left to change and returned to see the members of the pride filtering into the room. Each grabbed a candle, which had been lit, and carried it to their place in the space below the platforms. A designated family member for each of the deceased lit pillar candles at each end of their departed’s platform.

In most Passing ceremonies, family and friends took care to honor their dead. But Derrick had no living relatives, save his son, and no real friends beyond the uneven friendship he shared with Eryka. Omar made the attempt to provide Derrick the honorable ceremony that all Tors received, but Lelah appeared and shook her head, stating that Ulryk rescinded his right to that honor because of his behavior in the Challenge.

Eryka, still shaking from the revelation that she would soon face Anise in a Challenge, lit both of the pillar candles beside Derrick’s platform before kneeling in the crowd.

A sea of white clad bodies with red sashes tied at their waist greeted him as stepped to the base of the dais where each platform rested. Omar directed those in attendance to kneel before he followed suit and began the ceremony.

“Today we gather, the faithful and true, to bid farewell to our kinsmen. Travel safely to the arms of the beloved Goddess Lelah. Take your place in the arms of our people. May their presence bring you solace and healing. Farewell, until we see you in the peaceful embrace of Gardas.”

Omar blew out his candle with the others following suit. Lelah stepped forward and made her way to each platform where each body lay under silk sheets decorated with stitched messages from family and friends. She silently made her way to each platform, placing her hand on the chest of the Fallen and reducing them to ashes beneath the sheets. Finally she stood before Derrick’s platform. The Goddess eyed him warily, her hand hovering over his chest for a brief moment.

When his body crumbled beneath the sheet, Omar glanced over at Anise and caught her hasty attempt to hide her smile. He hid his own smile before turning to the audible cries of the only one who loved the fallen Tor.

Lelah lifted her hand from Derrick’s ashes and faced the crowd. Though the Goddess of Life and Death performed countless ceremonies on a daily basis, the impact of each death was evident in sad flashes in her eyes.

“They call to me to bring them home, to give their soul rest in Gardas. In the pages of the Doctrine of Liflasir, they hope to find their Judgment. From the planks of Gelfar and over the souls of Meihleh, they will travel to find their final peace, be it in Gronak or Imel.”

The families of the fallen stepped forward and draped the silk along the front of their respective platform before gathering the ashes of their dead into golden urns. Omar—with Ronan’s help—carried a jeweled fire pit onto the dais. Ronan returned to his place among the rest of the Rockys, while Omar remained next to the fire, while each family brought the urns to the fire.

Eryka was the last to bring Derrick’s ashes to the pit. Her hands shook and tears streamed down her face as she released the urn into the rolling flames. Omar—feeling sorry for the female—opened his arms to her. She paused mid-stride and glanced back at Anise as if seeking permission, before she nervously stepped into his embrace.

While he didn’t care for the male she wept for, he did understand her need for comfort. The pride was a family and family—no matter how much they annoyed each other—was supposed to stick together in times of need. She pulled away and returned to her place in the crowd.

Omar faced the crowd. “I offer my blessing as their Tor to find the solace in Gardas that eluded them here. To Goddess Lelah, we thank you. You are our Guardian into life and our comforting usher in death. We are humbled by your presence here today. For your service, we offer our Sashes of Mourning.”

He pulled his Sash of Mourning from the loops of his white linen pants and placed it in a fire pit. The pride rose in unison and began placing their sashes into the eager flames. Each additional sash was marked with crackling recognition. Anise added her sash, before untying the red ribbon tied to her son’s left arm and placing it in the flames. When she returned to her position between Yara and Jazmir, Lelah stepped forward again.

“So it is done and you should mourn no more,” Lelah said with a final bow. “Those you have given me are at peace. May you find the same in the days to come.”

She left, extinguishing the fire just as she disappeared from sight.

ANISE CRAWLED INTO BED
knowing that Omar would soon join her. She hoped he would, despite her apprehension towards his willingness to help with late night feedings. Many mothers would greedily accept an uninterrupted night’s sleep, but the casual way Omar cared for her son made Anise jumpy and paranoid rather than grateful. A part of her fought past her irrational distrust of Omar’s intentions, because if she watched his actions, the male had done nothing to earn her suspicion.

If she was honest with herself, Tor Omar was doing everything right. His reactions to Derrick’s treatment of her, proving himself honorable in both the Challenge to Derrick and his fellow Rocky, and allowing her to assess her ability to face Eryka’s Challenge showed he deserved more faith than she was giving him.

Yet, despite his actions, the doubtful part of her clung to the idea that Omar could change his mind at any time. Her mate was wearing her down, but her thoughts kept returning to the irrational need to protect her son from a male who had no blood allegiance to him.

Anise rolled over and faced the opposite side of the bed and wondered what kept Omar busy so late at night. She’d avoided asking him where he’d slept the night before, because part of her felt that she had no right considering she hadn’t made him feel all that welcome. After tossing for another hour, Anise finally fell asleep, her mind full of worry for the status of her relationship with the Rocky who loved her and not the safety of her son. Only to wake up an hour later with a snarl and her claws literarily out after being yanked from her sleep by an unexplainable need to protect her child.

Standing over her son’s bassinet was Omar with his hands reaching down to grab her gurgling baby.

“What are you doing?”

“Go back to sleep, Anise. I’ve got it.”

“I told you already—”

Omar released a low growl before he inhaled and looked over at her. “I told you that I wish the boy no harm, and I mean it. I am not so weak as to wish harm to a child.”

“My brother did it. He killed his mate’s child.”

When he nodded, she wondered just what Omar knew about her family.

Her brother wasn’t a monster. She knew that, yet the mother in her couldn’t accept that someone she loved had killed an infant new into the world simply because the child was not his own.

“Your brother told me,” Omar said, breaking her trek down misery lane. “He said that the child was not conceived in a way that behooved his mate to see the child she birthed every day. I know he didn’t tell you that, but he told me. He wanted me to understand your aversion to me. I still can’t say that I do.

“Anise, if I wanted him dead, I would have killed him before you knew the color of his eyes or the feel of his hand in yours. To take his life energy now would harm you in a way that would ruin anything I wish to build with you. Do you think I’d waste my time that way? Do you believe that I would forfeit my place in Egypt to come to the States and all its problems just to destroy what we could build in a single day with a single death? I am not that male. I never will be, so stop trying to make me into him.”

Anise stared at him and tried to muster some sort of response as he reached back into the bassinet and picked up her son. Whatever objection she had died in her throat, because her son stopped the whimpers he’d begun making the instant Omar placed him against his chest.

“Your son knows he is safe with me. Trust me to feed him and see him into the realm of Oblivia where the dream Hermods can guide him into a peaceful rest.”

She nodded. “Thank you, Tor.”

Omar stopped and returned to the bedside, where he leaned down and kissed her hard against her lips.

“Thank you.”

Anise relaxed against the bed and regarded the way Omar walked away whispering into the ear of her son. She couldn’t tell what he said, but her son responded with a noise that sounded like an infantile laugh.

“Did he just laugh?”

“I think he wants to but he is a little young for that.”

“What did you say?”

His shoulders tensed, before he turned and flashed a wary, but guilty smile.

“I told him I’m going to change him into something less ridiculous. The little shoes are ugly as hell.”

Anise didn’t stop the laugh that erupted from her. “I only put them on because they went with the outfit. Derrick bought them, and yes, they are ridiculous so go ahead and change him. He does tend to get cold and will be a bit irate about being naked, so change him quickly.”

Omar left her alone after a short nod indicating that he’d gotten her warning. Sure enough, a squall of irritation floated from the room a few minutes later, but ended just as quickly as it started. She frowned in the direction of the room when Omar started laughing.

“Thanks, young one. Remind me not to do you any more favors tonight.”

She stood in the doorway and watched as Omar stripped out of his shirt. He was perfection. His chestnut colored skin stretched over hard muscle as he pulled the pee-soaked shirt off and tossing it aside. She curled her hands into fists, digging her nails into her palms to keep from reaching out and touching him.

“He peed on you?”

“Apparently, he didn’t like my remark that his father has terrible taste.” He looked down at the open drawer where he’d been taking out clothes. “Did Derrick buy all of these clothes?”

“Yes. He was very particular about everything related to his son. Only the best for his heir; therefore I wasn’t allowed to pick out clothes because it was a guarantee that I would pick something made of inferior fabrics. A woman just can’t be trusted with such things. Or so he thought.”

She smiled when Omar bit back a growl. Her mate really did care for the way she was treated.

“I have to return to the Rocky compound after the Naming. My Lykata and Tukata will remain with you. I want you to order anything you want for him and burn this ugly sh—” he stopped short of cursing with a quick glimpse to the overly observant gaze of her son. “Burn this stuff, give it away. I don’t really care. Also if you want to do anything in here or wish to move to another room, go ahead and set it up. Yara and Jaz have my credit card. I’ll order one in your name tomorrow morning. Does that work for you?”

“I don’t need a lot of stuff, Omar. I’m a Rocky. I’m used to getting by on less than the average Lycan.”

“That’s because Derrick gave you no choice.” He sighed, a volatile mix of rage, shame, and regret clouding his gaze much like it had when he’d witnessed her giving birth on the pallet. “I do have one request. I want to find another bedroom in the compound, and I want new furniture. Have it all delivered ASAP. Nothing with flowers or pastels.” He laughed when she made a face. “I know. You aren’t that kind of female, but I had to say it lest I return to a room drowning in flowers and pastels.”

“Okay.” She gnawed at her lip, her mind drifting back to his comment about him leaving following the Naming. “How long will you be gone?”

“No more than three days.”

“Okay.”

He picked up her son, having dressed him in a plain white onesie with black and white socks. “What’s on your mind?”

“Who’s in charge when you’re gone?”

“You.”

“But…”

Omar shook his head. “Look, in my temporary absence, you—as my mate and eventual queen—rule in my steed.”

“Derrick—”

“Would have never. I know. Derrick is dead, so his rules have no purpose here. I am not the kind of Tor that I don’t feel like I can’t trust the welfare of the compound in your hands for three days. Besides, I have a phone. I’m going to Colorado, not the middle of nowhere.”

“I guess I can find all the financial information for you.”

“Don’t worry about that. Deal with any issues that require immediate attention. You know, fights, challenges and that kind of thing. Kill Eryka if you get bored, though I’d rather you wait until I get back.”

“Afraid I might die?”

He snorted. “I want to watch. I expect my Nabila to keep up her Rocky training, so be prepared to train with me.”

“That doesn’t sound anything like the Nabilas of the recent past.”

“They are either dead or somehow insignificant. I intend to rule a long time, and therefore expect the same of my mate.” He skirted around her, grabbing a bottle he’d put in the warmer, before he went to sit in a nearby rocking chair. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“No, I don’t.”

She watched him in silence for a few minutes as her son hungrily devoured his bottle. Her intention had been to try and still that nagging question building in the back of her mind. She could very well be First Wife of however many Omar wished to take. The idea of sharing him stabbed at her heart, despite Omar not being hers by way of marriage. Still the worry must have shown on her face because Omar’s low chuckle broke into her thoughts.

“I have no intention of taking more than one wife, Anise.”

“You say that now, but you don’t know me any better than I know you. You are Tor and leader of us all. Why would you only take one wife when there are many beneath you who have more than one?”

He placed her son in his bassinet before tidying up the already clean room and grabbing his pee soaked-shirt.

Turning to her, he said, “Many of those males have wives that are unhappy or are neglected in one fashion or another. I have no desire to have more than one female to keep happy, nor do I desire to see any female tied to me only to live a life that is less than what she deserves. You, mate, will never know the fate of those females. Not that you’d get along well with anyone I sought to make Second wife anyway.”

“Meaning?”

He snorted. “Rockys don’t share. I’d rather sentence a female to death than ask her to share me with another Rocky.” He glanced back at the bassinet before he pulled her into his grasp. “I’d no sooner ask you to share me than I’d willingly share you. I am yours. I have been since the moment I first saw you.”

Anise couldn’t help the smile that she pressed into his sculpted chest.

Omar relaxed his hold and ushered her to the bed. “I need to make some last minute preparations for his Naming. Sleep. I’ll be back in a little while.”

She rolled on her side and fell asleep before she heard the bedroom door click shut.

* * *

Omar stood on the altar with Anise at his side. The audience was filled with members of the local pride and as well as those who’d been present for the Challenge. At the base of the altar stood Gary, along with Anise’s parents. The familial resemblance was evident in the males by the mirrored set of their shoulders and sheer oppressive presence because their size was massive. Anise was a younger version of her mother, her hair missing the streaks of gray that lined her mother’s hair.

“It is in the name of Goddess Lelah that we gather today as we stand, surrounded by family and friends to formally welcome the newest among us. We rejoice in the presence of our family’s newest blessing.

“In this moment, we recognize the essence of our blessing, the most innocent of souls from the timeless spirit of Nunginn’s groves. The body in which that timeless spirit resides is new. It lacks the heritage and knowledge of our collective past.

“From this day forward, bound by the power and conviction of our word, we declare our intent. This soul will never know a day absent of love and from this day onward, will know our knowledge and heritage.

He turned his attention to summoning Lelah, goddess of life and death. “We seek your presence. Bless us again with your divine existence, as you have already blessed us with this new life. We praise you, Goddess, for ushering this soul into life from the eternal grove. We endeavor to ask, as all guardians of children do, that you usher this child from infancy into a life fully lived. We humbly ask you to protect and guide him along their respective paths throughout life.

“Family, friends, we charge you to embrace him as kin, as one of our community. Witness us, as the guardians to this child, vow to be bound by the power of our word. For all of our days, we pledge to honor him with the purest of intents and bestow the fullest extent of our love.”

Lelah stepped forward and addressed the crowd. “All vows have been rendered and accepted.” She turned her attention to the child. “I give you my blessing to walk an authentic path and fulfill the potential that is yours alone to seize.” She faced Anise and Omar, but her attention was mostly focused on Anise. “Gather here at the altar, for those who have gathered here wish to have knowledge of this child. Tell us the name you have chosen for this unnamed soul.”

“We have elected to name him Zavier.”

“Anise, hand the child to Omar. You have given freely your womb to usher them into the world, it is time he hold and profess his intent to protect and sacrifice himself in the name of Zavier. Remember as you gift the weight to Omar, the marks of your sacrifice on your body is noted as your continual sacrifice for the needs of the one you have birthed. And it shall be, as it was from their first gurgled breath to your last one.

“Omar, by accepting the weight of Zavier, you give a sacred oath that you will protect this child with the very beat of your heart and the last exhale of your lungs. From this day forward, you affirm that you will be the other heartbeat—an audible compass in a desolate world—that will guide him to safety.”

Lelah grabbed a bowl filled with the oils from Liflasir, the Worlds Tree. “I bless you on this day with the everlasting oils of Liflasir. It is with this sacred oil that I anoint you as Zavier.” She traced her finger over his forehead in a pattern indicative of her emblem.

Omar stepped up, having already alerted Ulryk, God of Kings and Queens, and Nivar, God of all Gods, of his intentions and asked them for their presence.

“On this day of Zavier’s Naming, I swear an unbreakable oath. I will bind myself to my words as both Tor and Rocky, may nothing break them.”

Nivar nodded. “I will accept your oath.”

Ulryk repeated in kind and motioned for Omar to continue.

“Today I give my oath to my son. Though we are not bound by blood, I recognize him as my own. When Death calls me to eternal rest, it is he who will inherit the throne. Let it be known that any future sons that I may have will not be able to usurp him in power unless by rightful challenge. I honor Zavier as my son. I give him all rights to the inheritance of the throne and the power to lead in my absence.