Blood of the Guardian Read online

Emery took a stuttering breath, cleared his throat, and spoke. “Megan is with child.”

  “What?” Kael said. “By Brim, it’s true?”

  “What’s true, General?” Emery asked.

  “The rumors.”

  Emery’s brow furrowed. “Enlighten me.”

  Kael’s mouth snapped closed. He pressed his lips together, hesitating.

  “Out with it, General. What have you heard?”

  “Your Majesty,” Kael said, “people are saying you’ve been bedding her.”

  Emery cursed and ran a hand through his black hair. “And who’s spreading these rumors?”

  “Why, nearly everyone, Your Majesty. There will be no surprise when you announce your child—”

  “It’s not my child!”

  The room fell silent. Nolan had never heard Emery yell before. When Emery had confronted him in the village, when he thought Nolan had been killing others to gain their powers—even then, Emery had a steady calm in his rage. It was nothing like the outburst of emotions from him now.

  “Whose then?” Kael’s expression fell as realization hit him; his face paled.

  Emery turned toward the Guardians. “Is it possible? Can a Guardian father a child?”

  “It is possible,” Malik answered. “However, joining with a human is unwise and disrespectful.”

  Kael snorted. “That’s never stopped Alcandor.”

  Malik uncrossed his arms, fists at his side. “Alcandor? He has done this?”

  “Can you tell us what kind of child it will be?” Emery asked, diverting the question. “Will it be … human?”

  Malik’s white, glowing eyes flicked to Nolan. Both Kael’s and Emery’s heads turned toward Nolan, mouths open.

  “Crows, Kael,” Nolan said. “We’re brothers, for Brim’s sake. Our parents are human.”

  “I imagine the child would be something similar to Nolan,” Malik added. “However, the blood of a Guardian would run through the child’s veins. I have never known any Guardian child to survive the birth from a human mother. They all die with the mother.”

  Nolan stepped back as if someone smacked him. He grabbed the bedpost, steadying as his head swam. Both mother and baby die? Any contemplation of a life with a girl—any girl—snuffed out in a puff of smoke. Then, the realization of a more pressing threat hit him. Megan will … die? He ran a hand over his chin, his head heavy and thick. What would they do?

  Emery rubbed shaking hands together. “Can we remove it?”

  “The child?” Malik asked. “No. In the past, all attempts proved fatal, for both mother and child.”

  Emery closed his eyes, defeated. Then he opened them and stared at Kael intently. A spark of hope flared to life in him. “Maska. We need to speak with Maska.”

  Kael brightened. “Of course. Maska. I’d almost forgotten.”

  Emery forced a smile. “General, could you please—”

  “I’ll get him immediately.” Kael’s eyes flared yellow, and he zipped away.

  The rest of them waited, tense energy clouding the room. Nolan looked up, expecting to see Nass filling the ceiling, but saw nothing. Then he remembered what Brim had told him: Only those who have not taken the light produce them. He’d been so immersed with the common people of Renfrew, and their fresh supply of Nass, he’d nearly forgotten what it was like to be without them again.

  Emery paced, bringing Nolan’s attention to him again while they waited for Kael to return. What did Maska have to do with anything? How was Maska going to save her?

  Nolan pulled on his Guardian abilities, wanting to read Emery; however, Emery fortified his mind like the stone walls of Faylinn.

  His eyes flicked to Nolan’s. He didn’t say anything, but he gave Nolan a subtle shake of his head. Nolan pulled back, ashamed. Of course, Emery didn’t want him dipping into his mind. Especially not here. They stood in the room where Alcandor had abused Emery for seventeen years.

  Finally, someone approached, their steps cutting across the throne room floor. Maska’s complaints echoed through the expanse of the room. Apparently, his mood hadn’t improved.

  Kael entered first, followed by Maska. However, the moment Maska set foot inside the room, his posture stiffened. His dark eyes darted, flashing red with Strength. He muttered a Talasian word that sounded much like a curse.

  He wore only leather breeches. No shirt. No shoes. Wet hair clung to his face, as if Kael had pulled him from a bath. He inhaled slowly before speaking. “Emery, why do you bring me here?”

  Emery motioned to an overstuffed chair, but Maska stood erect, his muscled arms crossed tightly over his olive-colored chest. Kael closed the door, sealing their privacy.

  “Thank you for coming, Maska,” Emery said. “I’m sorry, but it’s the only place where we can speak privately.”

  A scowl fixed between Maska’s dark eyebrows. “What do you want?”

  “What happened the night you were taken to this room?” Emery asked.

  Maska’s head dropped, his gaze fixing to the ground.

  “I know it’s hard, Maska. But it’s important.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Megan is with child.”

  Maska’s head shot up. He stepped back, sitting hard in the chair Emery had offered him a moment before. Leaning over, he raked his hands through his damp hair and stared at the ornate rug under his feet.

  “Is there any possibility the child could be yours, Maska?” Emery asked.

  He didn’t answer. Emery put a hand on the warrior’s shoulder, but Maska jerked away.

  After a long pause, he said, “Yes. The child could be mine.”

  Emery laughed in relief.

  Maska’s eyes narrowed. “And defiling the girl makes you happy?”

  “I am relieved, not happy,” Emery said. “If the child is yours, Megan will live.”

  The anger left Maska in a rush. “What do you mean?”

  Sanawen, the Guardian, stepped forward. “If the child belongs to Alcandor, it will kill her.”

  “And if it’s a half-breed bastard, she will live?”

  “If she is lucky, yes,” Emery said.

  Maska growled and turned, using his muscled back as a wall. “My Strength broke her bones while I took her. She healed, and I broke her again … and again.”

  “You’re a victim, just like Megan,” Emery said calmly, though his face paled. “Alcandor controlled you. It wasn’t your fault.”

  Nolan knew Megan had endured a lot that night; the small vision from her dream unnerved him. However, the thought of Maska hurting her, especially in that way, made his stomach turn sour.

  “So how will we know?” Maska asked. “Is there a way to find out whose child she carries?”

  “None,” Malik said. “We will have to wait and see.”

  “So what if the child is Alcandor’s?” Kael asked.

  “Well,” Emery said, “we’ll hope her Healing Shay can save her during the birth.”

  “But, Your Majesty,” Kael said. “The rumors. When they learn of a child, they will assume it’s yours.”

  Resignation surged from Emery. “Well then. I suppose I should marry her.”

  “And if it comes out dark-skinned?” Maska added.

  Emery smiled weakly. “We’ll deal with the scandal when the time comes.”

  Of course, that was the logical thing to do. At least circumstance forced them together—they loved each other anyway. However, Nolan couldn’t break away from his own selfish reflections. Not only could he never marry—unless he potentially sentenced his bride to death—he wouldn’t risk being intimate with any woman.

  He swallowed hard. He was sentenced to a life of celibacy.

  Nolan retreated to the far corner of the room, next to a statue of a nude woman made of gold. The others continued to discuss the situation. Maska even joined them, though he kept his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

  How could I be so selfish? I should be happy for my friends, shouldn’t I? Emery loves her, though
nobody knows about it except for me. And Megan loves Emery as well. So why did it upset him? If it would save her honor, it would be a good thing, the right thing. Emery was a good man, even a king! And the fact they both loved each other should be enough, shouldn’t it? He should be happy for them. But Nolan wasn’t happy at all. Instead, jealousy leeched through his veins.

  “What if she doesn’t want to marry you?” The words slipped from Nolan’s lips before he could stop them.

  Emery looked across the room at Nolan and met his gaze. His eyes pulsed with violet light, his Empathy digging through Nolan’s brain. “Then I will respect her wishes.”

  “Does she even realize what happened?” Maska asked, his voice low. “I often wonder if she remembers, for she looks at me as a friend, instead of a monster.”

  “You are a friend,” Emery said sadly.

  “You would change your mind if you had seen.”

  “If she doesn’t remember, Your Majesty,” Kael said, “take her to bed and pretend the child is yours. Maybe take her several times, to make certain … after the wedding, of course.”

  Emery flushed, his teeth grinding. Panic surged from his emotions. “I think it best we start our marriage with truth, don’t you think?”

  “Be a good way to make the best of the situation.”

  “Is that all you ever think about?” Nolan said, harsher than he’d intended.

  Kael shrugged. “There are worse ways to occupy one’s mind.”

  Emery sighed. “I will speak to Megan.”

  “What will you tell her?” Nolan asked.

  “The truth … partially. That you sensed the child inside her.”

  “And what about the risks?”

  “She can’t know. Not now, at least. Her mind has been troubled enough.” Emery scanned their faces, his jaw tense. “And none of you will mention this meeting, either. Brim save us if she discovers we’ve talked about her without her knowledge.”

  They all nodded. Nobody wanted to get on Megan’s bad side.

  “And your marriage offer?” Nolan asked, choking out the words.

  Emery leaned toward him. “It’s one option.”

  One option. What other options does she have?

  With an abrupt dismissal, Maska and Kael left. The Guardians bowed, and then they strolled through the door, leaving Nolan and Emery alone. Nolan expected Emery to leave next; instead, he lingered, examining Nolan. Then he closed the door, shutting them inside.

  “There’s more you want to say?” Emery asked. “Would you rather make an offer to Megan?”

  Nolan started. “Me? Of course not.”

  “Why? You care for her.”

  “She’s my friend. It doesn’t mean I want to marry her.”

  “I felt jealousy coming from you earlier. I thought that perhaps—”

  “Perhaps what? I was jealous because you can get married. I can’t. You heard what Malik said: A Guardian child could kill her. I can’t marry anyone. I can’t be with anyone. Ever.”

  “If she lives through Alcandor’s child, she can possibly live through others.”

  Nolan snorted. “And you’d want her to take that risk? She needs a human, not a Guardian.” A weight pushed on his chest.

  “You’re not a Guardian,” Emery said.

  “I’m half Guardian—or something similar, I suppose. Who knows what kind of monster I’d make. If she lives through this first birth, I could kill her with the next one.”

  “Unless you are married by name alone.”

  Nolan blinked. “You mean, marry her but not touch her?”

  “Yes.”

  “What kind of marriage is that?”

  Humiliation hung thick on Emery’s emotions. “It would be the same if I married her.”

  “Why?”

  “I have told you before, Nolan. I’ll never subject any woman to my past. I just … can’t.”

  “Megan would understand. She’d be patient.”

  “Never,” Emery said.

  “If you give yourself more time to heal—”

  “Never.” Emery’s posture stiffened. “Especially Megan. Besides, you’re young. I’m old.”

  Nolan snorted. “I’m three years too young. I’m seventeen. She’s twenty.”

  “Three years is better than eighteen. Nolan, I’m nearly twice her age.”

  Nolan shrugged, feigning indifference. “Thirty-eight isn’t that old. What difference is age when you both love each other?”

  Emery tensed. He peered over his shoulder, even though they were alone. Nobody knew Emery’s feelings for her, except for Nolan. Turning, frustration and pain emanated from his emotions. He released a long sigh. “She cares for you—”

  “As friends, Emery. She loves you.”

  Emery’s arms drooped, and his shoulders sagged. Abruptly, he straightened, his brown eyes fixing on Nolan’s. “Just listen, friend … ”

  Nolan crossed his arms over his chest. Emery was doing his best to avoid a happy life with Megan. No matter what Emery said, it wouldn’t work; he’d just have to suck up his fears and marry the girl he loved.

  “You and Megan can learn to love each other. You almost did before; you can do it again. And if she lives, if she can handle the birth, then you can be together, always. In the meantime, you can consummate the marriage now, at least these next months. You can’t harm her if she is already with child.” Emery’s emotions filled with sorrow. “And if she dies, at least you both found some intimacy and comfort in that short amount of time.”

  Nolan gawked, his arms slipping to his sides. He opened his mouth to object, but couldn’t. Everything Emery said was true. He could be with Megan, at least now.

  He turned his back on Emery, embarrassment bubbling from inside him. How could he even consider it? Besides, what about Kat? There had been something happening between them—even if he was too stubborn to admit it out loud. However, if he could never be with a woman, did he want to string the poor girl along? Maybe it was best to end it all now.

  Megan was pretty. He had liked her at one point; with time, he probably could again. When would another opportunity present itself? Nolan grabbed his head, growling. This was not a reason for marriage, even if it might be his only chance to be with a woman.

  He turned back to Emery, whose eyes were glowing violet, watching, waiting for Nolan’s response.

  Nolan sighed. “Emery—”

  “Don’t answer me now.” He placed one hand on Nolan’s shoulder. “Just think about it? I will speak to her, tell her of the child, and then I will propose a marriage. However, be prepared. She will most likely come to you before she makes her decision.”

  Chapter Nine

  NOLAN DIPPED HIS QUILL into the dark ink and placed it on the empty parchment, hesitating … lingering … stalling. He’d volunteered to write to Flann, but how in the Darkness would he break the news to Megan’s overprotective brother? A baby? A wedding? There wasn’t a good way to do it! Nolan ran a hand over his face, and a soft groan escaped his lips. At least it would take Flann several weeks to get to Faylinn, giving him time to cool down.

  Nolan was supposed to wait until Emery had spoken to Megan, wait until Megan made her decision before he told Flann she was marrying Emery. But Nolan already knew what she’d decide. How could she refuse the man she’d secretly loved for years?

  A knot twisted in his chest at the thought of losing his last chance for marriage and family and … other things. Maybe he should make her a proposition. It wasn’t too late. Cursing, he shoved the idea down where it came from: into the exaggerated fantasies of his mind.

  A frantic knock sounded at his door. He froze, quill hovering above the ink.

  “Nolan!” came an exaggerated whisper. “It’s me … Megan.”

  Nolan set the quill on the desktop and ran his fingertip over the shaft of the feather. Maybe he could pretend he wasn’t there; he’d sit quietly and wait for her to go away. But he heard her feet shifting, her hands wringing as she waited. Standing,
he wiped his hands on his breeches. Best to get it over with.

  He opened the door, and Megan stood in the hall, eyes red. A nightgown hung loosely over her slumped shoulders, and her brown hair framed her face in a matted mane. She entered without waiting for an offer and closed the door behind her.

  She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the door, desperation oozing from her emotions. Nolan could feel a question lingering on her lips.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, breaking the silence.

  “Search me again!” she blurted. “Make sure it’s real.”

  “The baby?”

  She nodded slowly.

  Nolan hesitated, suddenly feeling invasive. Sucking in a slow breath, he summoned his Perception Shay, and his senses sharpened, including the smell of rose-scented soap on her skin. It distracted him, but he refocused on her heartbeat. Then on the softer, quicker thrumming inside her. She stared at him, expectant, hopeful.

  Nolan sighed. “It’s there.”

  Her hands fell limply at her sides. Hope and grief pulsed from her, flickering back and forth from one to the other. The grief he understood. The hope—not so much. What hope did she have when everything in her world was falling apart? How could she hope when she carried a monster’s baby inside her? The blood of Alcandor. Maybe her hope stemmed from something else.

  He cleared his throat. “Did Emery make an offer?”

  “Of marriage? Yes.”

  He waited for her to say more, but she only stared at him. Intense, green eyes watching.

  “And … did you give him an answer?”

  “No. Not yet.”

  Silence stretched painfully until Nolan finally said, “Do you want to get married? You could always go back to the village with Flann. No one would judge you there.”

  She bit her lip. “No. They’d judge. They may say nothing, but they would certainly think it. Flann reads people extremely well. Can you imagine his mood after he’d sensed them?”

  Flann’s Empathy was strong. She was right. The villagers wouldn’t have to say a word. Flann would know.

  “They are kind,” Megan said, her voice breaking. “But society doesn’t take to fatherless children. Marriage is my best option.” She caught his gaze again, staring intently.