Sūnder (Darksoul Book 1) Page 33

  “We aren’t abandoning them. They—”

  “Are you not? Really? Perhaps you aren’t completely abandoning them as you did me, but you are acting like petulant children in penalizing them for what they believe they need to do.”

  “Come now, we had no idea you had any latent abilities.”

  Ronan gave an ugly, scornful snort.

  “Regardless of whether or not I had any talent, someone could have—should have—stepped forward and taken me in after my parents left me when I was sixteen. Looking at you is almost like looking in the mirror. You can’t tell me there aren’t others out there who share my blood, who could call me family. If I’d been accepted as one of you, I would have known what the toxin was that tried to attach itself to Sūnder, what it meant to purge scarabs when I cleansed him. And I would have known what Sūnder’s current condition was and not crucified myself because I thought I did something wrong, that I’d missed a sliver of toxin and inadvertently let my mate be poisoned anyway!” Gabe yelled the last two words, only then realizing that he’d crossed the room to repeatedly poke Wÿn in the chest with his finger as he said his piece. But being abandoned was a sore spot, all the more so after learning he had family he never knew about; not that it gave him an excuse to basically attack the man.

  Ronan slid an arm around Gabe’s shoulders. “It’s all right. We have each other,” he whispered.

  Gabe glanced around the room, unsure. Dr. Lashūl’s eyes were overly wide in his lean face; Valiant and Válora looked very much like the twins they were, watching him with matching adoring expressions, their stances mirroring each other; and Pip stood in the doorway, leaning on a cart. For the first time since Pip had arrived with Wÿn, his countenance held sorrow and, perhaps, regret.

  Holding Pip’s dark gaze, Gabe said, “I will be ever grateful the Rinne family took me in and made me one of their own.” Remembering how Ronan and Pip’s parents had clucked over him and moved Gabe into their home, accepting him in their lives without batting an eye, caused his love for them to swell. Even if Pip was acting like an asshole, he was still family, and Gabe would make sure the Rinnes were reminded how precious that was.

  Pip gave a small nod, and Gabe allowed Ronan to direct him back to Sūnder’s side. Wÿn seemed to be at a loss for words, which suited Gabe just fine. He felt drained, and there was still so much to do.

  Wÿn startled at the sight of Pip standing in the doorway. “You’ve returned. Great.” He rubbed his palms on his pants and stood, taking the cart from Pip and motioning to Dr. Lashūl.

  Gabe listened with half an ear while Wÿn explained how the incubator worked. The bed beneath the glass dome was covered with what looked like a thick moss or lichen. The tug on the hem of his shirt drew his attention to Sūnder.

  “You know we won’t ever abandon you?” Sūnder looked searchingly into Gabe’s eyes.

  Gabe sank down onto the mattress, brushing Sūnder’s mane off his brow. “Yes, I know. You’re my mate, right?”

  “Yes, and we Panthrÿns cherish our mates.” Sūnder absently scratched the skin above the rows of knots.

  “Don’t mates leave, though? I think I read something to that effect when I signed up to attend the Festival.” Valiant had been mated twice that Gabe knew of, to Sūnder and A’yrē’s birth mothers, and that was without asking him any too-personal questions.

  “Sometimes. Some aren’t built to have a life-long mate. We don’t shame them for it; it’s just how they are. While mated, they treasure their partner. The relationship doesn’t sour or turn hostile like I’ve seen with humans, and the Panthrÿns separate amicably. Others need multiple mates in a relationship, and we rejoice with them when their household is complete. Then there are those of us who spend their lives searching for the one.” Sūnder’s thumb rubbed across Gabe’s bottom lip, and he nipped at it.

  “Are you saying you’re a one-mate guy?” Gabe teased.

  “Only you,” Sūnder confirmed.

  “Good, because you’re the only one I want,” he said quietly for Sūnder’s ears only.

  His reply hadn’t been low enough because A’yrē made a disdainful noise. The heat of a blush on his cheeks, Gabe glanced over at Sūnder’s brother to see Válora put an arm around him. “Soon you will find your mate and speak to them with such purple prose.” Gabe snorted out a laugh, and Sūnder chuckled at A’yrē’s horrified expression, then winced.

  “There! We’re ready.” Wÿn stepped up to the bed, standing opposite Gabe. Not quite meeting Gabe’s gaze, he said, “The process is simple but delicate. Rub your fingers along the seam of the stripe.”

  Gabe stood and faced Wÿn across Sūnder. He chose to start at the stripe closest to Sūnder’s rib, since the proximity seemed to be causing the most pain. Along the dark strip were three distinct lumps.

  “How do I explain this? To begin the process of starting new life, you had to spread your—” Wÿn glanced at Sūnder’s family, then cleared his throat and looked back in Gabe’s direction. “—DNA along these stripes to fertilize the mature seeds held within. This means Sūnder’s body, as well as his magick, recognizes your touch.”

  Gabe could feel the blush creep up his neck into his face. He remembered exactly what he’d done to get his “DNA” into Sūnder’s stripes, and now everyone in the room knew that as well. Gabe coughed. “What would happen if someone other than me attempted to touch these?”

  “Sūnder, of course, could do this by himself if he had to. But the process is exhausting, especially if he is in the heart of the forest. If someone else, say a stranger, were to try, Sūnder’s magick would shield them and, in extreme cases, lash out if Sūnder felt there was imminent danger.”

  “That must be why we couldn’t take a scan of Sūnder’s abdomen,” Dr. Lashūl mused, coming to stand behind Wÿn to watch.

  Gabe rubbed lightly, afraid of pressing too hard. “You said something earlier about eggs.” Gabe’s heart was in his throat, and his hands trembled. He needed to talk, to have someone to fill the silence, because he was having difficulty falling into his nursing headspace, perhaps because it was Sūnder before him, and these were essentially his own children. He bit back a laugh at the thought that maybe this was why doctors, not husbands, delivered babies.

  “Keep your touch light. The shells will be soft and offer the beings inside no protection for the first ten to fifteen seconds before exposure to the air hardens them.”

  The seam under Gabe’s fingertips opened in a mimicry of how a flower bloomed, and a red-and-black speckled egg pushed forward. Wÿn showed Gabe how to cup his hands and lift the egg away from Sūnder. Pip pushed the incubator closer to Gabe’s side. Concerned, Gabe glanced up at Sūnder to make sure he wasn’t in any pain. His mate only stared in awe at the small ball Gabe cradled. Pip lifted the lid, and Gabe quickly placed the egg inside the heated, steamy enclosure. Amazingly, the shell was fully hard by the time he put it down.

  When he turned back to Sūnder, the seam had closed smooth. The process was simple, but time consuming. As he removed each egg, Wÿn talked about how to tell when Sūnder was ready to have the eggs taken from him, and the complications that could occur if they took the eggs too early or waited too long. The soreness Sūnder experienced was a part of the process, a warning to take care in his daily activities lest he harm them or himself. Other than that, no one said a word while Gabe worked except for the occasional instructions and encouragement from Wÿn. By the time he’d finished, Gabe had collected twenty-four eggs. He ran his hand gently over Sūnder’s stomach, glancing at Sūnder to confirm he was pain free.

  “I feel fine,” Sūnder promised to Gabe’s relief.

  “How long before the eggs hatch?” Válora asked, her curiosity clear in her tone as she bent over the incubator to peer through the glass.

  “About sixty days. The ideal place for them to emerge would be the hot springs at the heart of the Jade Forest, but with the rate the forest is reported to be dying, the heart may be polluted or dormant. If
it isn’t possible for them to hatch there, then a clean, protected garden will do in a pinch. You’ll have to coax them to relocate later, but they usually will if you bribe them with their favorite plant.”

  Sixty days didn’t give them very long to arrange for the faeborn to return to the Jade Forest without violence.

  “With Sūnder only half-faeborn, and the amount of human blood in Gabe, I’m not sure how the fey will turn out, how different they will be from the fey of the past. From this point onwards, what I know might not be correct for these new fey,” Wÿn said, withdrawing from Sūnder’s bedside, Pip once again protectively at his back.

  “However they turn out, they have us,” Valiant said, his stare just this side of challenging. Adoration for his new family spiked within Gabe, and he blinked rapidly when his eyes unexpectedly watered.

  Wÿn gave Valiant a slight bow. “Then they are in capable hands. I’m sure I’ve been missed by now. Perhaps we can get together again before you leave for Slorèx, Gabe? I would very much like to spend time with you.”

  Gabe’s heart raced, but he wasn’t sure if it was because he and Sūnder were the fathers of twenty-four fey or because he was elated at Wÿn’s offer, especially after everything he’d had said. “Yes, I would like that,” he replied, unsure why he was suddenly feeling so shy.

  “Great. I look forward to it. King Valiant, I believe what Gabe said earlier is true. There is more the elders could be doing without revealing everything to the L’fÿns. I think I could convince a couple of elders to sit down with you, if you have the time. I know you’re busy.”

  Could Wÿn change the minds of the other elders? Even simply sharing information with Valiant to help the guardians and faeborn who would enter the Jade Forest would help immensely.

  “You can contact me anytime through the embassy,” Valiant replied, relaxing back in his seat. “They will put you through without question.”

  With his glamor firmly back in place, Wÿn tipped his head, said his goodbyes, and left, Pip trailing behind him.

  Turning to Ronan, Gabe asked, “Don’t you want to speak to Pip before he leaves?” Ronan’s expression said yes, but Ronan remained stubbornly silent. “Come on.” Gabe grabbed his best friend’s arm and pulled him to the door, promising Sūnder he’d return soon.

  They were lucky enough to catch up with Wÿn and Pip before they reached the exit. When Pip saw Ronan, he said something to Wÿn before meeting Ronan in the middle of reception. Placing a hand on Ronan’s shoulder, Pip spoke in a low tone. Gabe couldn’t make out what he said, but Ronan nodded his head, occasionally replying here and there.

  Gabe moved to the side, giving them privacy, and Wÿn joined him. “Not all of us agreed with the decision to leave you in the human world. Before your grandmother arrived here on Earth, she was called Ca’larel of Baptÿst. She’d lost her faeborn mate, Emmÿth, before the Scarab War started and mourned him deeply. When we landed, most of us took new names. She became Laurel St. Baptista.” A soft smile ghosted across Wÿn’s lips as his gaze turned distant, as if remembering. “Later, when she decided to take another mate, he was human—they all were human afterward—even though she knew she would outlive them.

  “She was the oldest of us, and if she’d been alive after your mother and father left, I have no doubt you would have been brought in. But your father was bitter. He, too, didn’t present any ability in his youth. Dain said he always felt like he was on the outside looking in, wanting what he could never have, and he didn’t want that for you. Many believe he married your mother because Lyra had strong guardian lines. Sometimes I wonder if he was a latent guardian like yourself, and all he needed was to find the faeborn who matched him.

  “Your grandmother thought— no, always believed—you had the potential. So did Ronan. Perhaps now the others will listen more carefully.”

  “Are we related? You and I?”

  “I am your uncle—one of your uncles. Emmÿth was my father. Of the young who lived, I’m the oldest of your grandmother’s children. Your father is the youngest.” Gabe looked at Wÿn incredulously. “The benefit, or perhaps curse, of being long lived,” Wÿn said sheepishly.

  “Do you have a guardian?”

  Wÿn’s smile turned sad. “From what A’ymon has told me, you know that any guardian can assist any of the faeborn. It isn’t necessary for us to have our own faeborn mate. But to answer your question, no, there are no guardians here for me.”

  That seemed a bit overly dramatic. “How do you know?”

  “Remember what it was like when you first saw Sūnder?”

  Gabe studied Wÿn carefully. Where was he going with such a question? “Yes. It was as if the world narrowed down to only him.”

  “I’ve never experienced that with a guardian.”

  “Why not find love another way? Go to a Festival?”

  “Because there’s always the chance I will meet my guardian later in life. Besides, the one person I do want isn’t interested.”

  Before Gabe could be even nosier, Pip and Ronan embraced. Wÿn bade Gabe a good evening, promising to be in touch, and moved to meet Pip. Was Wÿn’s touch on Pip’s shoulder possessive? Maybe not, for Pip donned his neutral mask and escorted Wÿn from the building impersonally.

  “How did things go?” Gabe asked Ronan.

  “I’m not sure. My family’s loyalty is to the elders, I knew that, and he did wish me well. But if the elders remain behind, my family will stay as well.”

  “But they aren’t going to cut you out of their lives? You can keep in contact? “ Gabe probed.

  Ronan’s smile wobbled. “Yeah.”

  Throwing an arm around his best friend’s shoulders, he walked Ronan back to Sūnder’s room. “Then all is not lost.”

  “And I have you.”

  “Most definitely, you will always have me.”

  27

  “ARE YOU SURE you feel all right, Highness?” Lashūl asked for the fourth time since Gabe had left the room.

  “Yes, I am. I’m ready to return to the Oberon.” Sūnder didn’t want to spend the night at the Chándariān hospital. He would rather be in his own cabin, wrapped around Gabe.

  “I shall speak to the doctor and get you released.” Lashūl stepped out, leaving Sūnder with his mother and father. A’yrē had already gone to meet with Paulo, who had arrested Tālia of Nellá and her fighters after the earlier skirmish.

  The silence stretched too long, and Sūnder searched for something to talk about. He glanced at the incubator, knowing he wasn’t ready to discuss what had just happened. But maybe family was a good topic… “Father, you haven’t spoken of Sheäsha since you have been here.” Knowing Valiant shared everything with Válora, Sūnder didn’t think twice about asking such a personal question in front of her.

  Valiant offered Válora the chair Wÿn had vacated. She declined, so he took the seat, looking uncomfortable in his formal attire. “She left me before I came to Earth.” When Sūnder started to apologize, his father held up his hand to halt it. “We both knew it would be temporary. I’m afraid A’yrē came by his aversion to relationships honestly. If father hadn’t betrothed me to Tālia, I would have happily lived as A’yrē does.”

  Válora hovered near the incubator, caressing the glass dome with a distinctly maternal gleam in her eyes. Sūnder forced a smile at the sight. He wasn’t sure what he thought of this new aspect of being faeborn, but it felt wrong to be upset that he and Gabe had created so many small lives. “I bet you didn’t count on having more than one or two grand-babes. Although with the way Wÿn spoke about them being wild, I don’t know how sentient they will be.”

  “Posh!” Válora made a shooing motion. “They were wild because no one stayed to teach them how to interact with others. Our family never abides by tradition when we see a better way, and we have an extended family to call upon to help raise them. Besides, these wee ones won’t get you and Gabe out of giving me a litter of cubs or two.” The gleam of anticipation in her eyes made Sūnder wary.
Válora was well known for setting forth challenges and expecting them to be met.

  Sūnder gulped. Válora had always been vocal about wanting Sūnder to have cubs to fill the corridors of their home. The fact he had no interest in females had never deterred her for, as she was fond of stating, ‘in this day and age, surrogacy is more than an uncommon option—it is everyday’. Normally he didn’t balk at her prodding, as it had been something to consider in the distant future if he found a mate, but just now the thought caused panic to flutter in his chest.

  Thankfully, his father took pity on him and moved the subject away from the topic of cubs. “Am I going to lose you to the Jade Forest, Válora? Shall I create a new title for you? Caretaker of the Wild Fey, perhaps?” Valiant teased.

  She ran her fingertips along the outside of the container next to one of the black-and-red specked eggs. “The Faelÿns, L’fÿns, and Panthrÿns have lived apart for far too long. Yes, our peoples intermix along the borders and in the larger citadels, but there are places we keep to ourselves. Perhaps it is time we finally share. Besides, with the unrest in the L’fÿn noble houses, an outside influence may be what E’drijān needs to eradicate the harmful ideas that have grown there.”

  “Which brings me to my next question. Sūnder, what are your and Gabe’s plans? I understand this relationship is new, but you should discuss all your options with him before you return to Slorèx. Once home, I shall be making many announcements, including officially claiming you as my son. This means your mating will be made public, and Válora and I will be able to cement our relationship with Gabe by becoming blood relatives with him.”

  Sūnder adjusted the bed, wishing he could be dressed for this conversation with his father. “I don’t want to take A’yrē’s place as your heir.” He had no desire to become king and deal with wading through politics. A’yrē had been raised to handle such things, and he was extremely good at it.