Warrior Prince (7 page)

It was as if my brother died all over again. Leaving me behind to hold the shattered remains of innocence.

ELEVEN

Elementals straddled the delicate balance holding our world together. There was always the reaction to an action, the negative to a positive. The dark to the light.

And every choice had repercussions that rippled outward, each ring a consequence affecting others far into the future.

It was time to make mine.

"Kendra, I came to say goodbye. I'm leaving Haverleau."

"Wha…" She blinked. "Why? When? Are you coming back?"

"Tonight. And…"

I'd prepared the words, but seeing the rejection in her eyes made it almost impossible to speak them.

"I'm needed right now in my kingdom. As crown prince, I have to tend to issues that are affecting my people. I'm not sure how long it'll take."

"Look, if this is about what happened — "

"That was a mistake." She had enough to handle. "One that will never happen again."

"Sure didn't seem like a mistake at the time."

Because it wasn't her mistake. It was mine.

Memories flashed in a blaze of white heat. Her intoxicating taste. How I'd wanted to get closer, breathe her into my blood.

"Kendra, you're a beautiful ondine. You're…very attractive."

It sounded distant, far short of what I wanted to express.

I took a deep breath and tried again. "But I lost control at the cove. It shouldn't have happened."

"So that's why you're leaving? Because you made a mistake?"

"No." This was about fixing a mistake made years ago. "I'm leaving because it's more important for me to be there than here with you."

I'd steeled myself for the pain that now cut across her face. What I hadn't prepared for was the blank look that replaced it, the way her vibrant expressiveness dulled to a shade of its former self.

"Right. Got it."

Loneliness defined her life. As a Rogue ondine, as an Empath, and now as
sondaleur
.

A cold, empty ache gnawed inside my chest. Hurting the person I promised to protect was the price of this choice.

I sat there a moment longer, absorbing the curves and angles of her face, then stood to leave.

Her question came just as I reached the door.

"Why did you give me the music?"

Believing in her was as natural as breathing, as effortless as the magic flowing through me. After what happened, she wouldn't be the same. But I knew with absolute, unquestioning certainty she had the strength to survive.

I wasn't leaving for her. Or for elementals, war, duty, or obligation.

This was for me.

She'd shown me I could do more than just exist, that I could once again search for possibilities within the seemingly impossible.

I needed to do this.

Please trust me.

The answer I gave was more than an acknowledgment of our reality. It was also a confession of what she had become in my life.

"There is so much horror and pain in our world. Sometimes, the only thing we can do is hang on to beauty. It reminds us we're still alive."

With each step, a purpose I hadn't possessed in years strengthened.

By the time I reached his office, all that remained was an instinctual certainty. I was doing the right thing.

At my knock, Gabe glanced up from the paperwork on his desk. "Leaving already?"

His face was pinched, the line of his mouth tight with exhaustion. Over the past few weeks, worry had taken up permanent residence in his eyes.

The
sondaleur
's arrival marked the beginning of events inevitably leading toward the conclusion of war. We had to be ready.

I settled in the chair across from him. "Tell Marcella I'm sorry I didn't stop by."

He rubbed his eyes. "She's going to give me hell over it."

"I'll be in frequent touch with her and Rhian." My absence didn't mean the Governing Council came to a halt.

"Your men are filled in?"

I nodded. "Garreth will be in charge. And you can reach me any time."

"You haven't told me when you're coming back."

"I'll come back when I finish what I need to do."

He sighed. "And I suppose you still have no intention of sharing what that is?"

I leaned back and met his troubled gaze. He knew what the answer was.

"I always supported the idea of you returning. You know that."

I raised my brow. "But?"

He crossed his arms. "But is this the right time? She just entered the recruits —"

"And she needs time to adjust." The protective tension in his shoulders said it all. She was his family now. "She'll be okay, Gabe. Aquidae in Lyondale are weakened and Ewan will keep a close eye on her."

The young gardinel was one of my best men. Eager, loyal, and earnest almost to a fault, he'd give everything to make sure she remained safe.

Gabe stared, his expression unreadable. I waited.

This wasn't only about Kendra. This was about how I was distancing myself. From him, my men, Haverleau.

It was temporary and necessary. There was nothing more I could do to ease his concern.

"I hope you know what you're doing," he finally said.

"I do."

For the first time in a very long time, I knew exactly what I wanted.

I stood. "I'll be there in about eight days."

He joined me in front of the desk. "You're not taking a direct flight?"

"Swimming to Juneau first, then flying out."

We clasped each other's forearms. Solemn eyes locked onto mine. "I'll see you soon."

Unspoken understanding and acceptance passed between us. Whatever happened, we were chevalier and gardinel, united in our oath to elementals.

Rich scents of earthy pine and salt water colored the mild spring night. Silent shadows enfolded Nexa's empty cottage, moon drenching the bluff in silvery light.

Anticipation grew as I neared the edge. Roaring waves beckoned to the other half existing deep beneath the surface.

I'm coming back. I promise.

Feet pushed and left land behind.

Falling, I closed my eyes as night wrapped me in a cloak of inky darkness.

Pedaillon
flared, stone scorching my skin like a brand. Heat reached inward, binding with the magic in my blood. The familiar push-pull reverberated through my core as mortal withdrew and seal emerged.

Energy awakened in a vortex of power. The fiery combustion rolled through my veins, imbuing every cell with a magic as old as the sea.

Bones cracked, skin rippled.

I plunged into the waiting arms of restless waters.

TWELVE

Waning afternoon light splashed across the floor of the Central Hall.

I breathed deeply, hoping the crisp air would clear the pounding inside my skull. The murmurs and fresh scent of the ocean drifted through wide archways, a constant reminder of our tie between two worlds.

"You can stop with that look already," she said, amused.

A simple tie held back Sian's long, dark chocolate hair. Playfulness gleamed in sable eyes set within fine-boned, articulate features. Tall, long-limbed body moved with an easy grace and relaxed confidence that showed no hint of self-consciousness. Like all non-gardinel selkies, a white diamond
pedaillon
held her seal skin.

"What look?"

"The one you got about a minute into the meeting. As if you didn't know whether to laugh or snap everyone's head off. Like this."

Lowering her brows, she lifted the corners of her mouth, scrunched her nose, and growled.

She looked like a deranged rabbit.

"And no one ran away screaming?"

She winked. "You combined it with just enough charm to pass for dignified."

I chuckled, the headache easing a little.

Arguing with stubborn selkie females for two hours wasn't the easiest way to spend an afternoon. Today's meeting only demonstrated how much time and patience was needed to map our kingdom's future.

We made our way down the east corridor toward the private royal rooms. Gardinels and palace employees stopped, politely inclining their heads until we passed.

The show of formal courtesy still jolted me. Here, I was just a title, a reputation. My home was one in name only.

Sian motioned to an ornate marble entrance inlaid with silver. "Do you remember?"

I nodded. Wood and leather wafted through the slightly open doors of the palace library, triggering a flood of memories.

Before Eric entered gardinel training, we'd spent countless hours with Sian exploring every inch of the palace.

"It was your favorite hiding place," I murmured.

She gave me a sidelong glance. "You always let me win."

Not at first.

She lost every time we played hide and seek and we'd teased her mercilessly about it. Until the night I heard her crying over our words.

The following day, and every day after that, I made sure Eric found me first. When it was her turn to seek, I was easy to find.

"You were only a little girl."

She shook her head, exasperated. "Even then, you took care of others. And Eric —"

"Always won."

It had been my brother's particular gift until his streak ended eighteen years ago.

The first time he lost to Aquidae. The second time to me.

We stopped in front of Dax's door. Ghosts of the past loomed, casting shadows over both of us.

I'd spent my childhood protecting her from hurt. Yet years later, confused and grieving, I'd inflicted it.

Regret stirred. "You deserved better."

"We both did." The warm weight of her hand was familiar. "You were just you. Doing the hard things so others didn't have to."

She gave my arm a reassuring squeeze and left. I waited until she turned the corner before knocking.

"Hey."

He'd just stepped out of the shower. Dressed in a terry cloth robe, beads of water shone in his dark blonde hair. Tall and lanky, my brother's boyish frame was beginning to acquire the bulk and harder lines of an adult.

Diamond
pedaillon
sparkled against the bronzed skin of his neck. The Armicant would select a colored stone for him when he officially became a gardinel. It would be the proudest day of his life.

I walked into his room. "How was class?"

"You know." He shrugged. "Last year."

The grueling, final stretch before gardinel induction pushed trainees in every possible way. Although he didn't have the talent of some of his other classmates, Dax was a strong student with a technique honed from years of solid practice.

He grabbed a towel and swiped his hair. "What's going on?"

I'd waited a week to approach him, using the time to observe how he'd changed over the past year. He'd grown stronger, physically and mentally, and was a natural leader among his friends.

The youthful, rebellious exuberance had also tempered a bit. But I could still see the bare bones of the boy who'd once followed me everywhere.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm needed in the war," I said flatly.

"But Eric's already fighting and you just came home. Why do you have to go again?"

"Because…" I have to find and kill our brother. "Because I just do."

Large, dark eyes stared. The same color as mine, except for the subtle grey flecks that came from our mother.

Minutes earlier, hers had shone with tears. His reflected bewilderment.

"The entrance ceremony for gardinel training is next week," he said, tentative."You'll be there, right?"

"No."

"But you promised!" Young voice cracked with hurt and anger. "Everyone else's brothers will be there!"

I suddenly couldn't stand the innocence of his face. Didn't want to be responsible for it.

Because whatever happened, I could never truly come home.

I turned my back to him. "You don't have brothers, Dax. Not any more."

"Tristan?"

Shaking off the cobwebs of the past, I managed a small smile. "Needed to talk to you about something."

I sat on the edge of his bed and Dax settled into a chair across from me.

Resolve wavered and doubt suddenly surged. He'd been so young then. I'd lost one brother, but he'd lost two.

Could I really ask him to do this?

Her forlorn voice, naked with vulnerability, echoed in my head.

Why did you give me the music?

I took a deep breath. The cost of this choice had been high. I wouldn't let it go to waste.

It was stilted at first. But with each sentence, my voice grew stronger, words coming faster until they tumbled out with an honesty that scraped my insides raw.

Dax remained still, his eyes never leaving mine.

When I finished, a silence weighted with the enormity of my request descended between us.

"Is this what you want?"

Every choice I'd made in my life led to this question.

He leaned forward, voice intense. "Is it?"

The small odds had further decreased with my return. But no matter how infinitesimal the possibility, I wanted to be ready.

And that meant believing in both Warrior Prince and Tristan.

"Yes."

"Then let's make it happen."

No hesitation. No doubt.

Insides shook. "You understand that —"

"I'll never forget your face when you went after him."

Solemn expression showed no trace of youthful impetuousness. Only a grave understanding of the blood and history binding us together.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course." Clear eyes held mine. "You're my brother."

A fragile warmth of regret and gratitude expanded in my chest at the simply spoken words. "Thank you."

"When do we start?"

His slightly crooked grin was an almost exact replica of Eric's. But the way he ran fingers through his hair was a gesture I recognized as my own.

Pride warmed my blood. Maybe Dax was the best of both of us.

"Tomorrow."

A great deal needed to be accomplished and I wanted to return to Haverleau as soon as possible.