Hunter Mourned (Wild Hunt Book 3) (33 page)

Anger and rage were growing within her. So was hatred. The Triad had done this to her. It had given her a taste of heaven, then ripped Trevor away. Why? What sick game was it playing? Did the deity enjoy seeing Arawn’s children suffer?

She’d always known they were disliked by the other gods. Resented might be a better term. The Huntsmen could do what none of the gods could—walk among the humans. Even the Triad was banned from the mortal realm. Yes, Rowan understood where their jealousy came from, but to punish them for an ability none of them had asked for was cruel.

It was also out of her hands.

The Triad had set the game in motion, forcing her to play. She could resist and fail or overcome her challenge and win. With Trevor by her side, she’d been ready to face her fate. She’d felt confident in her ability to solve her riddle and had been convinced it had to do with the acceptance of past mistakes. The mark of her curse had even deteriorated after she’d confessed her sins to Trevor.

What was left for her to accept? She’d shared with Trevor every mistake she’d made during their first time together. And this lifetime? She’d stumbled in her recognition of Trevor as Kai’s reincarnation and even almost gave in to her fears concerning his refusal to ride, but she hadn’t. Trevor had guided her past them. He’d also proven himself right. He had been strong enough to fight without losing those qualities about him she loved.

Nothing either of them had done was wrong. They’d worked through their issues and doubts. Together.

Sure, she could regret her choices, maybe berate herself for not convincing Trevor to ride, but in her heart she knew what she’d done was right. Trevor had wanted to remain mortal until he found Craig. She’d respected his wishes. Honored them.

Then there was the slice of a moment when Trevor had stepped in front of her. She could wish she’d shoved him out of the way, wish she’d acted sooner. The truth was—she hadn’t known that bullet would ricochet and hit Trevor. If she had, she would’ve taken it for him, sparing him from suffering. It was fate that took him from her. Or maybe it had been the Triad’s doing. She didn’t care to learn the reason. One truth remained—Trevor’s death hadn’t been caused by anything either of them had done.

Rhys laid his hand on her shoulder. “You need to let him go, sister.”

She didn’t want to let Trevor go. She wanted to hold him close for eternity. She couldn’t, though. He was gone. No more chances.

She placed the pieces in the bottom of the hole, the King lying next to the Queen, and tossed a handful of dirt over them. A single tear dripped off her chin, wetting the soil. She scrubbed the back of her gloved hand over her eyes and stood.

The faces of her family filled her vision. She glanced from Tegan’s eyes to her brothers and straightened her spine. No matter her pain, life went on, and her Teulu needed her to overcome her challenge. For them, for what they fought for, she couldn’t fail.

She dipped her chin, then turned toward the path leading to the butterfly garden. Her future loomed in front of her, and she’d face it alone.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY

Grief waited for her in the corridor leading to the Huntsmen’s sanctuary in the Underworld. Rowan ran her gloved hand over the mare’s back, then motioned the animal forward. Her duty to Arawn demanded she deliver Craig’s soul to him. She wanted to carry out her task before facing Lucas.

She stopped on the overlook at the end of the stone-cut hallway. The valley she’d walked through countless times greeted her. She swept her gaze over the estate where she and her siblings had once gathered between nights of hunting to the fields and the stream that cut a meandering path through the lush grass. Nothing had changed over the years. At least outwardly. Inside the large home, the furniture in the main rooms had been modernized. There were light fixtures instead of candles, and carpeting in place of the wide oak plank floors.

The same could be said about the Huntsmen. Immortality ensured they’d never age or scar, but their experiences and the hell they’d endured had altered them inside. None of her siblings were the same as they had been when they’d first entered this realm. They’d changed. Were still changing. So was she.

She hung her cloak on a jutting rock near the corridor, then made her way to the home. Arawn would be expecting her, and she doubted he’d be in his chambers or his library.

The crackling of a fire greeted her when she stepped into the foyer. She headed to the parlor, where Arawn had set up an office. The desk was covered in folders and loose papers, and her father stood in front of the large window overlooking the fields. His fingers were linked loosely at the base of his spine, not gripping a glass of liquor, but a decanter of ambrosia-laced whiskey sat within arm’s reach on the table.

She sighed at the sight of him alone and went to him. He pulled her into his embrace and held her close.

“I am sorry, my daughter. I wish I could bring Trevor back to you, but he was a good man, worthy of Heaven, not Hell.”

She nodded and buried her face against his chest. No tears fell. Maybe because her father had trained his children to hide all weaknesses. Or perhaps she’d accepted Trevor’s loss. Or it could’ve been because she was just too tired to let them fall. Whatever the reason, she inhaled the campfire scent of her father and allowed it to soothe her, exactly as she had in Rhys’s presence. Smelling the familial tie also reaffirmed what she’d realized while looking upon her Teulu that had shown up to mourn with her.

Although Trevor was gone, she wasn’t alone. She couldn’t forget that.

She took another deep breath and eased back. “Why are you here?”

He raised a brow. “I was waiting for you. You have a redcap’s soul to deliver, and you needed me to hold you.”

“I mean, why are you still staying in this empty house? Your guards aren’t allowed here. Even the hounds don’t come inside. The only people you see are your children when we return with souls.”

“Minerva has been out here a few times.”

Her stepmother had said she wasn’t giving up on her mate. Rowan was glad to see that Minerva intended to follow through with her statement. “And have you talked to her?”

“When she has something worthwhile to say, I will.”

In other words, he was ignoring her.

“Why are you acting like this? You are not a saint. Have you forgotten the pain you caused your mate when you left her for a year and a day in order to create your Teulu?”

“No. I haven’t forgotten, but I wish I could.”

“Does Minerva still resent you? Is that why you won’t forgive her for conceiving Ian?”

“My mate understood why I walked among the humans. She didn’t approve of what I had to do, but she accepted it.” Arawn glanced at her. “And she accepted you and your siblings as her own children.”

Rowan finally understood that. Her stepmother loved them too. “Then why not forgive her? I’m not saying what she did was right, but it wasn’t entirely her fault. The Triad manipulated her and placed her in a situation where she wouldn’t be able to resist Lucas.”

Arawn worked his jaw back and forth. He stepped away from her and walked toward the fire.

“Have you ever wondered how Minerva was able to get pregnant? For goddesses or female demigods such as yourself, only males connected to their soul can impregnate them. As Minerva’s mate, I should have been the only one to father her children, but in all the years we were together, my mate never conceived a child. Yet, the one time she took Lucas into her body, she did.” He glanced over his shoulder and focused his dual-ringed silver eyes on her. “Doesn’t that make you wonder why?”

“I assume the Triad allowed her to bypass that rule. She did tell Tegan that she would’ve aborted Ian unless she accepted the Triad’s offer to save him.”

“Yes.” Arawn inclined his head. “I am one with Minerva—body, heart, and soul. That is what a mate bond offers, a complete union where I feel her pain whether it’s physical or mental. So, yes. Minerva was correct when she said her body would’ve rejected Lucas’s baby. Her tie to
my
body would’ve prevented the babe from taking root.”

He pivoted on his heel to face her. Rage burned in his eyes. “But I am not the only male tied to Minerva’s soul.”

Rowan covered her mouth. “Lucas.”

“Yes. Lucas. The male I once trusted. The male I once saved. He has betrayed me, and my mate has kept his secret.” Arawn narrowed his glowing eyes. “For all the years Minerva and I have been together, Lucas has hovered like a shadow in her soul, experiencing my love for her. She knew it too.”

“How is it possible?”

Arawn laughed bitterly. “You can ask her. I am done talking about it. I just want to forget every encounter I shared with her. None of it was real.”

“Wasn’t it?” Rowan glared at her father. “I remember the way you were in Minerva’s presence. She calmed you. Made you smile. She helped you feel. Those aren’t memories that should be erased. Without them, without her, you will revert to the male you were before Minerva stepped into your life. Ruthless. Hard. Unfeeling.”

Arawn turned away, but Rowan followed him, stepping between him and the fireplace. “I’ve heard plenty of stories from those beings who knew you before Minerva. I don’t want you to turn into that male again.” She thumped his chest with her balled fist. “This is the male I respect. This is the male I am proud to call Father. Not the one before Minerva. That male I pity. He didn’t know what it was to love.”

“It’s an emotion I’d rather forget too. It’s caused me too many problems over the years.”

“So you want to forget your love for us too? Will Arawn’s bastard children become hated by all, even by the male who created us?”

“No. My children are my greatest accomplishment. I would give you anything and everything.”

“Then don’t hide out here alone, wishing you could scrub your memories from your mind.”

“I can’t forgive them.”

“Am I asking you too?” She looked imploringly at him, trying to get him to understand. “I’m asking you to stop hiding from your pain. It won’t make it go away.”

Her father stared at her for a long time before he tucked her hair behind her ears and exhaled slowly. “I will spend more time in my library if that will make you feel better, but I can’t guarantee that seeing Lucas or Minerva more often won’t simply make matters worse.”

“Why haven’t you banished him to the Outlands?” The Outlands was the area between the city and the entrances to the different levels of Hell. Arawn rarely went there. His guards were the ones who escorted the damned. It’d be the ideal spot to send Lucas.

“I made a deal with him when I left for the human realm. I can’t banish him. I also can’t hurt him. He is tied to Minerva and she to me.”

Rowan wrapped her arms around her father. “I am sorry.”

He ran his hand over her hair. “Not as sorry as I am, but mating Minerva was my choice. At least now I have the answer as to how Minerva was able to enter the Underworld. Her tie to Lucas allowed her to enter my realm since he had been condemned here.”

And she had the answer as to what Lucas wanted to be freed from. He hadn’t meant from Hell. He wanted to be freed from his tie to Minerva. “Do you want me to accept him? Doing so will sever—”

“No.” Arawn glared at her. “You will not base your choice on me. I would rather suffer alone for eternity than to know you sacrificed yourself. Do you understand me?”

“I do.” She eased out of his embrace.

Arawn nodded, then walked to his desk. “I have work to do, and you have a decision to make. Don’t you?”

“Yes.” She headed to the door. “I do.”

And no matter which one she made, she was going to end up hurting someone.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY-
O
NE

If Trevor could’ve picked up the bench in the butterfly garden, he would’ve hurled it at the angel standing next to him. Michael’s silence since they’d witnessed the mourning ceremony was grating on Trevor’s nerves. The angel had the means to save Trevor so he in turn could save Rowan, but Michael was withholding it.

“For good reason,” Michael responded to Trevor’s thoughts.

“Yeah? Then why don’t you share it with me.”

“I can only use Minerva’s gift once.” Michael swept his gaze over Trevor. “And I never intended to bind my soul to another male.”

“What?” Trevor stepped back. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Minerva gifted all the angels with the ability to bind a soul to theirs. She’d intended it for us to be able to keep any female we fell in love with, but she didn’t take into consideration that love wasn’t required to form the connection, nor did the union require the permission of both partners. She basically gave each angel a free ‘one-use only’ card to bypass the Triad’s basic law of free will, and it backfired on her big-time.”

“Why would she do that?”

“She was naïve. She didn’t think anyone would misuse her gift. In her mind, love was the only reason anyone would want to walk through life bonded to another soul. My brother proved her wrong. He gave her another reason when he bound his soul to hers.” Michael laughed, bitterness laced into the sound. “Power. He wanted to share in Minerva’s strength, and manipulated her into giving it to him.”

“Shit. I thought she loved Arawn.”

“She does. This happened before him, and remember what I said, love isn’t necessary for the bond she allowed us to form. It’s simply a connection between souls that’s only severed by death. That’s why she cries for humans who form the bond the way it was intended, through love. Each time they die, the soul bond severs as they pass from the in-between realm to the Heavens. She cries, allowing them to retain the memories of their love, and gives them another chance at finding each other.”

Trevor had known some of that, not all. “So, what? You’re going to bind your soul to mine so I can return to Rowan? What exactly is involved in this deal? Because if you think I’ll share Rowan with you or something, you’re shit out of luck.”

“First of all, I didn’t say I was
going
to do anything. I said I was
thinking
about it. And second of all, I want no part of your relationship with Rowan. Your Hunter doesn’t arouse me. Neither do you.”