Relinquish: Book II of the Rising Trilogy (6 page)

“I think of him,” I admit softly, letting my hand fall away into my lap. I unclench my fist and find red crescents punctured into my palm. “More so now that you have dumped me.”

Eamon splutters. “I think dumped is a bit of an exaggeration.”

He pales at my livid glare. “Do you want me to remind you of how much time you have spent with me off the battlefield in the last month? The last half of the year? I won’t need more than one hand to do it!”

I can feel I’m close to crying and I struggle to rein my anger back in. Why do I have to be so emotional all of the time now? Why can’t I go back to the way I was before all of this mess landed in my lap? When life was simple and a solid spear and hunting sack slung over my back was enough to clear my head.

I never asked to be drawn in the middle between Eamon and Bastien. In fact, I would rather both of them left me alone in the first place. Then Kyan had to spout off about my stupid destiny and the whole world went into a full tilt, and I was left grappling for something to hold on to.

Bastien thought by leaving me, my life would get easier, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. I used to lie awake at night, trying to hate him for walking away, but I knew why he did it. It wasn’t because he was weak. No, it was because he was selfish.

He knew what I wanted from him, what I needed, and he wanted the same thing. If he had stayed, I would’ve freely given up everything for him. I know a part of him would’ve embraced our love, but he would have known it was wrong.

Fate is a cruel bastard.

I rise slowly and head toward the far wall, sinking down onto the wide seat that perches just below the window. I like to sit here in the early morning, before Thalar wakes and the noise drowns out the call of the birds or the splashing of water in the fountain square. It is the only time I can almost trick myself into thinking I am in the forest again.

Eamon rises, shuffling his feet as he comes to stand behind me. He reaches down and clasps my shoulder as he settles onto the bench, speaking so softly I struggle to capture the words. “I’m sorry.”

I close my eyes, wishing more than anything he had said this before. “Sorry isn’t good enough anymore.”

I lean forward and press my forehead against the windowpane. A small circle of fog puffs to life near my mouth. Two smaller ones appear and fade with each breath that passes through my nose.

“I’ve been hard to live with. I’ll admit that.” His hand shifts to brush thick strands of hair off my shoulder. My skin tingles under his touch. It has been far too long since he touched me like this. “I guess I didn’t really know how to deal with all of this.”

“And you think I did?” I turn to face him, realizing just how close he’s sitting to me. My shoulder presses against his chest as I shift around. Our knees brush against one another. “I’ve been so lonely without you.”

He offers me a rueful smile as his hand falls upon my arm. “I guess I haven’t been the best boyfriend, huh?”

“Or a good friend.”

He winces at that jab. “You’re right and I’m sorry.”

“You already said that.”

“And I mean it.” He stares at me, his gaze sweeping over my face as if memorizing my features for the first time. He hasn’t looked at me with such unveiled longing in nearly a year. My stomach clenches as he pauses over my lips.

“This changes nothing,” I whisper, wondering if I really believe those words. If it were true, why do I have a yearning beginning to grow within me? I want to be touched, to be reminded that the world is not crowded only with sorrow and disappointment. The past year has been filled with nothing but darkness. I long for a hint of light, even if only for a moment.

“You have to stop saying good-bye to me before I’ve even left. I’ve been here, waiting. You just needed to wake up and realize that.”

“And Bastien?”

I growl and shove his hand away. “He has nothing to do with this. He’s not in my life anymore.”

His gaze darts away. “Do you hate me?”

“Hate you?” I gasp, taken aback. “How could I ever do that?

He leans his head back against the wall, staring blankly up at the ceiling. “I always wondered if you wish you’d chosen Bastien instead of me. If you felt trapped by your decision.”

So that was the root of all of this. I should have known he couldn’t let his own insecurity go. It wasn’t losing me to my destiny that he feared most, but that he’d never had me in the first place.

I cup his face with my hand, forcing myself not to notice the difference between the softness of his cheeks compared to the rugged stubble of Bastien’s. “If I still wanted Bastien, I wouldn’t be here now, fighting for us. I love you, Eamon, despite your bull-headed, annoying, overbearing tendencies.”

“I know,” he murmurs as a single tear slips from the corner of his eye. I watch as it trails down his cheek and falls onto my wrist. I can’t remember the last time I saw him cry.

“I don’t think you do.” I shift closer, tucking my leg in so I’m mere inches from him. I stare into his anguished eyes, seeing the guilt and poisonous doubts he has clung to for far too long. I trace my hand along the contours of his face, searching for the boy within that I know would sacrifice anything to make me happy. “I love you.”

His nostrils flare and his heartbeat pulsates against his throat. He reaches out his hand, tentatively cupping my neck as he lowers his lips, softly brushing against the corner of my mouth. I lean into him, encouraging him not to pull back as he has done more times in the past few months than I care to remember.

His touch is feather soft as he trails his lips over my check, nuzzling my ear. His fingers flex against my neck and I know he’s trying to resist drawing me closer. I rise, lifting one leg over him before I sink down into his lap.

His eyes are wide and searching as I lean in and press my lips against his, burying my hands into the curls that sweep over his ears. My grip is firm, insistent. His hands fall about my waist, gripping my sides to match my intensity.

His hands feel warm against the bare skin exposed along my lower spine, the sash about my waist loosened to reveal my tank top and shorts beneath. His hands slowly work their way up my back to immerse in my glossy raven strands, tugging gently.

I still miss my golden hair, the way the sun would glint off the brighter highlights in the summer, but I’ve accepted this change as readily as I’ve accepted my expanding powers. One look in the mirror reveals how far I’ve come and how little I still know about myself.

My head lolls to the side as Eamon’s lips drift toward my ear. His breath gives birth to a thousand goose bumps as he whispers into my neck, “I’ve missed you.”

Warmth creeps back into my heart, slowly radiating
out. Eamon’s touch is gentle, exploring, yet hesitant as he waits for me to give him permission. His lips trail to the hollow of my neck and I hear him sigh. “I’ve missed you too.”

I enjoy the rapid beat of his heart under my palms as I press my hand to his neck, letting his lips explore the line of my jaw. He flinches as my other hand dips under the hem of his black uniform and traces the fine contours of his chest. A breathy groan escapes as he crushes his lips against mine.

My fingers trail north to explore the cut of his chest, marveling over how much he has changed. A year ago, he was still a boy coming to know a new body. Now he owns it. Too bad it’s hidden beneath his Caldonian uniform.

As I run my finger in a straight line down his breastbone, Eamon snatches my hand just before I reach his belly button and pulls away. “What’s wrong?” I try not to let the pain of his rejection show.

Eamon’s chest rises and falls rapidly as he withdraws my hand from under his shirt and clasps both against his abdomen. “I’m trying really hard to control myself right now and here you sit like a temptress, taunting me mercilessly.”

“Is that so wrong?”

“No,” he groans but gently pushes back on me until I surrender and rise to my feet. “I just feel like I’m taking advantage of you. Five minutes ago you were ready to lop my head off, and for good reason, but this just feels… wrong.”

I scrunch up my nose, wishing more than anything the just and fair side of Eamon had remained locked away for a little longer. I needed to feel wanted again. Not in a hormone-induced haze, but as he used to love me, pure and true. “I guess you are right.”

Even though he was the one who pushed away first, I can see that my agreement hits him hard. “I should probably get back.”

“Sure,” I nod, clasping my arms around myself and desperately trying not to think about how the cold has begun to seep back into my heart. “Kyan needs you.”

Eamon steps toward me, his hand outstretched, but it falls away, as if he thinks better of risking another touch. “He needs you too. He’s just worried. We all are.”

“I know.” I sigh and sink down onto the edge of my bed as he offers me a halfhearted smile and closes the door behind him. “That’s the story of my life,” I whisper to the empty roo
m
.

Five

By the time Kyan finally calls for me, I’m beyond ticked, and he knows it. That’s why he sends Zahra to fetch me instead. She arrives at my door with her silky blond hair draped over one shoulder in a braid, a stark contrast to the high collar of her black uniform. There is a shimmer of color just over her eyes, a mixture of silver, gold, and bronze. Her full lips are glossed, with a hint of rose added to them. I don’t have to lean in to smell the floral scent that wafts from the hollow of her neck and wrists.

No doubt a gift from Kyan. He does so love to spoil her. Not that Zahra ever complains. She lives to be treated like a princess.

A year ago, Zahra and I were cordially cool with each other… some of the time. At others, it was sheer open hostility, but things change. I lean against the doorframe of my quarters with a rueful grin on my face. “I knew he’d send you to do his dirty work.”

Zahra’s slender shoulders rise and fall with an indifferent shrug that is almost believable. “He thought a pretty face might help soothe the savage beast.”

My lip curls into a smirk. “And he sent you?” I shake my head,
tsking. I half anticipate a sharp retort from her, but instead, I’m amazed to see a smile spread along her lips. I arch an eyebrow in surprise and she laughs.

“Oh, come on. I’m not
that
bad.” I snort loudly as she bumps her hip against mine, laughing. “Okay, maybe I used to be, but I’m not the same girl anymore.”

“So I see.” I look her over and realize how obvious the change really has become. When she first met Kyan, there was a sense of dumbstruck awe in her eyes. Now that has been replaced with the same deep contentment I see each day when Aminah is near Toren. That look of rightness, of finally having found their other half.

I lower my gaze and try to stomp down my jealousy, but it’s hard. I’m happy for my friends, truly I am, but it is difficult to be torn so completely in half when they’re all whole.

Zahra’s hand falls upon my arm. I look up, surprised. “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“For what?” I’m pretty sure I’ve never heard her use those exact words before. Certainly never with me.

She shifts her weight and bites on her lower lip, as if unsure if she should say anything. “We all know how hard this past year has been for you, and even though you don’t think it, I do kinda like you.”

“Huh.” I purse my lips and tilt my head to the side, confused.

She laughs and swats at my arm. “I’m trying to be serious here.”

“I know. That’s what’s freaking me out.”

Zahra shakes her head and removes her hand from my arm. Although her touch isn’t bad, per se, it is odd. What has gotten into her?

“Look, I just want to say that I know how hard it’s been since Bastien left. And then with everything going on with Eamon…”

I flinch. “How do you know about that?”

Zahra rolls her eyes as if it’s the most obvious answer on the planet. “Everyone knows, Illyria. He’s the easiest guy in the world to read and you’re… moodier than normal.”

“Gee. Thanks.” I step back and lean against the wall. “If this is meant to be a pep talk, it’s really starting to take a dive in the wrong direction.”

“I’m just saying you aren’t alone, okay.” I find Zahra’s mounting discomposure to be oddly comforting.

I swat at a fly buzzing through the room, wishing more than once today that I had something other than a shoe to swat at it. I nearly grabbed one of Aminah’s dusty books but thought better of it. She’d probably be hurt if she ever turned it over to find insect guts plastered to the cover.

“Thanks… I think.” If someone had told me this morning that I’d be having this heart-to-heart moment with Zahra, I would’ve told them where to shove their lies, but here it is, and I honestly don’t have any clue how to react.

Zahra clears her throat and winds her arm through mine, drawing me out into the hallway. I can’t help but notice how the two guards, who hardly look old enough to be shaving, straighten as she smiles at them.
Oh, please!

Her heels clack against the polished floor as we
pass by closed doors on either side of us. The rooms are vacant, per Kyan’s orders, and not just during my two-week imprisonment. Permanently. Aminah’s boyfriend Toren went to great lengths to remind Kyan of what I’m capable of when I’m high on emotions. I guess he thought giving Eamon and me some space to explore would be a good thing. That, of course, never happened.

The entire three-story building is all mine. When I first moved in, I would wander the empty halls at night. Aminah was worried about the effect this would have on me, but I was too lost to my own Bastien-induced fog that I found the stillness of the building comforting. Once I came out of that comma, I began to realize just how painfully alone I really was.

Kyan and Zahra took up residence in the Shard, one level below the command center, so Kyan could be found at a moment’s notice. Zahra was thrilled to literally be the focal point of the entire city. Aminah and Toren took up more humble accommodations in a newly renovated two-story brownstone several streets over. There has been talk of a wedding, but I don’t think anyone really needs an official announcement to declare their bond.

Eamon’s quarters are farther away, situated in the eastern quadrant of the city. He has been crucial in overseeing much of the repair work in that area and felt the need to be close by. What that translated into was that he needed space away from me.

“So what’s up?” I ask as we pass the tenth locked door. “I’ve been rotting away in that room for nearly two weeks now and Kyan suddenly decides I’m no longer grounded?”

Zahra’s eyes twinkle with mischief as she releases my arm and pushes open the steel door at the end of the long hallway. This building used to contain many one and two-bedroom apartments. Families lived here. Children no doubt took full use of the rusted heap of metal in the yard behind the building that once housed a swing set. The grass is overgrown now, nearly shielding the playground from sight. This empty lot isn’t exactly on the top of the repair list, but someday I hope it will be restored to its former glory.

As I raise my hand to shield my eyes from the brilliant sunlight, I can’t help but wonder if children will ever play here again. The kids we took care of in the caves have all been placed with couples around Thalar, adopted into loving families who weren’t able to start ones of their own because of the war. I see some of them from time to time, but not nearly as much as I would like to.

I never was very good with kids, but sometimes, in the darkest hours of the night, I miss hearing their whispers when they thought everyone else was asleep. There was something so wonderful about their innocence.

“Earth to Illyria.” Zahra breaks through my trance.

“Sorry.” I jog to catch up with her. She waits for me on the corner of my street, stray wisps of hair unsettled in the breeze.

It’s getting colder. Already I can feel the sun’s warmth radiating up from the concrete beneath my boots. I know that snow is on the air. Soon winter will unleash on us.

I’m suddenly gripped with a need to return to the forest and watch as the animals scurry about the trees in last-minute winter preparations. To see the flowers begin to wither and fade into the cracks between the rocks that dot the rugged landscape. Watch the geese take flight as they begin their migration south.

I sigh, knowing I’ll never be allowed to go back. Not on my own at least. Eamon and Kyan are far too protective to allow that.

“Man, you really are out of it today.”

I blink, realizing I’ve done it again. “Sorry. Involuntary solitude messed with my mind, I guess.”

Zahra laughs. “Well, I thought you were taking all of this rather calmly.”

“Taking all of what calmly?” I frown, grabbing her arm to pull her back.

She obliges and raises her free hand to point to the towering building before us. It rises like a spear of reflective glass from the center of town, casting rainbows of color along the sidewalk. The Shard never fails to take away my breath. I can only imagine what it must have looked like in its prime before the Caldonians arrived.

“About your mission of course,” she says. My grip on her arm tightens as I step forward. Her smile widens as she leans in to whisper, “They found Drakon’s main base.”

Elevators make me nervous. I prefer taking the stairs, but Zahra flat refused, pointing to the three-inch heels she has stuffed her feet into. I begrudgingly agree to enter the “box of death” but only because I’m anxious to hear what my mission is.

Did Eamon know? If so, how could he have kept this from me?
Even as the thought trickles through my mind, a sense of unease falls over me. I know why. He has probably spent the past week trying to talk Kyan out of it.

I grip the walls as the elevator rattles, rising far higher off the ground than I’m comfortable thinking about. I watch the floor numbers light up, silently pleading with it to hurry. A sheen of sweat appears on my brow and I wipe it away with the back of my hand. Zahra gives me a knowing glance but resumes her humming.

I’ve been told that music used to play in elevators, that it was soothing to the ear. I doubt that very much. How on earth could music be heard over the twanging of cables and rattling of gears?

With a high-pitched ding, the elevator shudders to a halt and the doors disappear into the walls, revealing a finely decorated waiting room. I blow out an uneasy breath as I step off the elevator and into the past. I’ve avoided coming to this floor for one very crucial reason: I’m not ready to face my memories.

Why did Kyan have to choose this location as command central?

The decor is much the same as I remember. The worn white carpet remains, but the bloody footprints I tracked through the last time I was here are gone. The cracked leather couches that once formed a semicircle have been replaced with plush fabric high-back chairs that line the exterior walls.

The framed pictures along the walls have been replaced by paintings with skillful brush strokes. Some are large and rectangular, spanning the length of an entire wall, while others are small and clustered together.

I pause beside one to admire its unusual beauty.
This particular image is of a beach, its sandy shore the purest white I’ve ever seen. Waves travel high into the dunes of the cove. I lean in closer, squinting in attempt to decipher if the waves really are lavender or if the twilight that has fallen over the beach scene gives the water that rich color. I’m startled to realize that in the mists that rise from the lapping waves, I can see shapes in the star-strewn sky—rounded distant planets.

“It’s Calisted.”

I turn at the sound of a deeper voice and instantly feel my ire rising. “Kyan.” I dip my head with a stiff sign of respect.

He wraps his arm around Zahra’s waist, pressing a kiss against the crown of her head, but his eyes never leave mine. He pats her side gently and she smiles, casting one last look over her shoulder toward me, and then reenters the elevator.

Kyan waits until the double doors slide shut before he approaches. “Every one of these images depicts my favorite places to visit on Calisted. This one is a beach not far from the cliffs that lead to Calahorra, the City of the King.”

“Where Aloysius lives?”
My future husband
, I think but can’t bring myself to say.

“Yes.” I turn to look at him. He has aged since the attack on Drakon’s hideout. I can see it in in the pinched skin at the corners of his eyes and the frown lines that trace along his brow. The warm tone of his skin has begun to face. There is a distinct bagginess around his stomach where his uniform used to fit snuggly.

“You look awful.”

Kyan laughs, nodding wearily. “I’ve felt better.”

I open my mouth to say the same thing, but something in his eye holds back my anger. There is a hollowness about him that I’ve never seen before.

“You found him?” is all I say. We both know exactly whom it is I’m speaking of.

“Yes.” He turns and motions for me to follow him into the command center.

It hardly resembles the pompous decor that Commander Drakon had used for his office. Gone is the
enormous mahogany desk, replaced with table upon table of maps, each one dotted with the location of our troops. The circular room feels smaller now that it is filled with rows of bulky furniture and black-clad men stooped over stacks of paperwork.

The windows have been replaced since I shattered them all the last time I was here. The bookcases have been swept clean of Drakon’s trinkets and filled to overflowing with books that Kyan no doubt feels are vital to our mission.

There is a buzz in the room as I enter, a charge that instantly grips me as Kyan closes the door behind us. Excitement. Apprehension. Elation.

I’m easily swept away by it as I approach the center of the room. Kyan grasps my arm just above my elbow and steers me toward a table with a wide map spread along its surface, the corners curling slightly from use. Two other men converse in low tones as I reach the table.

Toren looks up first and stiffens. His smile is genuine but plagued with tension as Eamon raises his gaze to meet mine. I instantly know I was right about my earlier assessment. He did try to stop this from happening. A jolt of bitterness seals away any welcome that I might’ve considered as I turn to face Kyan with only a nod in Toren’s direction. “What is my mission?”