Willing Sacrifice
Page 5
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Nothing more… The words were a bleak echo in his head.
“Is she… dead?”
“In part.”
This was not the time to be fucking with him. Frustration, grief and fear prowled under his skin, too close to the surface to hide. His voice was a cold whip that lashed out at her. “You’d better start making sense. Fast.”
Irritation tightened Brenya’s mouth until tiny lines formed. She was silent just long enough to remind Torr that he held no control here.
“Some of the woman you knew lives on. Some of her did not survive my efforts to heal her and are lost forever. And some of her lingers between life and death, struggling for survival even now.”
What the fuck did that mean? “I want to see her.” Maybe if he did, he could make sense of what Brenya was telling him.
“No.”
He tried to sit up, but the spinning in his head had him thinking twice about the move. The last thing he needed was to show weakness and convince Brenya that he couldn’t handle the truth of what had happened to his Grace.
Brenya pushed him back down, and the instant she touched his skin, the crescent-shaped mark she’d left on him a few months ago burned.
“Why the hell not?” he demanded.
“You will want to be her heart, but the parts of her that loved you are gone from her. She will not know you.”
“Not know me? Of course she’ll know me. She nearly died to save me.”
“Memories of you are one of the many things lost to her.”
“You don’t know that. Not for sure. She hasn’t even seen me yet.”
“I do know. The healing I did bound us inextricably. I’m part of her now, as she is of me. I know her mind. And you, young warrior, are no one to her now.”
Those words, delivered without warmth or pity, hit him harder than any wound he’d ever suffered. His voice cracked with pain. “You’re wrong. Let me see her and I’ll show you how wrong you are.”
“What will you do if you see her? Confess your love? Demand that she remember a man who is no longer a part of her mind? Grace is still weak. All your words can do now is damage her more.”
“I’d die before I’d hurt her.”
“Then give me your words. Pretend you do not know her. Speak nothing of her past. Stay silent until you see that what I say is true.”
“Whatever you want. Just let me see her.” He had to see her with his own eyes, to know she was safe. And no matter what Brenya thought, the bond that he and Grace had went deep. She’d been willing to die for him. She nearly had. No matter how much she’d changed, she couldn’t have forgotten him.
“Vow it,” demanded Brenya, the stormy waves in her eyes rising.
“I swear. I won’t say a word to her until you allow it.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, the weight of the vow he’d given bore down on him, making it hard to pull in his next breath. Even if he wanted to speak to Grace, the magic binding him to his word would make it impossible.
“Lie still,” ordered Brenya. “I will bring Grace to tend your wounds so she will not question why she is here. If you do anything to upset her, I will fling you back to your world and never call on you again. Grace will live out the rest of her years here, never to see you again. Do you understand?”
“I do. I promise I’ll be good.”
Sadness made Brenya’s strange eyes tilt downward. “I wish that goodness could be repaid by something other than disappointment.”
“Grace has never once let me down. She’ll remember me.”
“That Grace—the one you think you know—is gone. The sooner you accept that, the less pain you will suffer.”
He didn’t care how much pain he had to endure. Grace was worth whatever price he had to pay to have her back again. And this time he wouldn’t squander the gift she was. Nicholas was right that her human life would be only a brief moment of time to Torr, but he would relish every second and spend what time there was making her the happiest human who’d ever drawn breath.
Brenya let out a long, sad sigh. “I had hoped you would have chosen the easier path. I see the folly in that now.” She stepped across the room and sat on a stone stool. “Brace yourself, young warrior.”
Anxiety and excitement buzzed along Torr’s veins. The pain of his wounds was still there, but none of that mattered. Grace was alive. Nothing could diminish the relief that gave him. Even if she was weak from risking her life for his, even if she was no longer quite herself, he didn’t care. She was still his Grace, and the side effects of her sacrifice for him could not possibly make him love her less.
Torr found the strength to push himself upright just as the door opened, letting in dusty shafts of sunlight. He refused to squint at the sudden brightness. He didn’t want to wait even one more second to see her again.
“You summoned me, Brenya?” Grace asked in a quiet, sweet voice he would have recognized anywhere.
He still couldn’t see her from this angle. She was standing outside of the doorway, blocked from view. Still, his entire body became alert, every cell standing at attention in response to her nearness.
The need to see her—to see proof with his own eyes that she was alive—nearly drove him to his feet. Only his worry that he might topple over and embarrass himself kept him pinned in place.
Brenya waved toward him. “This man was injured slaying the beast. Tend him.”
“Yes, of course.”
Grace stepped into the hut. The door shut. His eyes adjusted to the dimness almost immediately, revealing a slight glimpse of the side of her face.
Her hair was longer now. Much, much longer. Soft black curls fell nearly to her waist.
There hadn’t been time for her hair to grow that long, had there? She’d only been gone for seven months.
Some bit of stored knowledge tickled the back of his mind, but his head was throbbing too much for him to grasp the thought.
Her arms and legs were bare beneath a short leather tunic, showing off muscles he was certain hadn’t been there before. His Grace had always been softly rounded, with curves that made him pant with need. The leaner, harder body he saw now was proof that she had changed.
Maybe food was scarce here. Maybe that was why Brenya had seemed so pleased about a giant pile of lizard meat.
Just the thought of Grace going without the basic necessities was enough to make a sudden wave of anger swell in his gut.
“Is she… dead?”
“In part.”
This was not the time to be fucking with him. Frustration, grief and fear prowled under his skin, too close to the surface to hide. His voice was a cold whip that lashed out at her. “You’d better start making sense. Fast.”
Irritation tightened Brenya’s mouth until tiny lines formed. She was silent just long enough to remind Torr that he held no control here.
“Some of the woman you knew lives on. Some of her did not survive my efforts to heal her and are lost forever. And some of her lingers between life and death, struggling for survival even now.”
What the fuck did that mean? “I want to see her.” Maybe if he did, he could make sense of what Brenya was telling him.
“No.”
He tried to sit up, but the spinning in his head had him thinking twice about the move. The last thing he needed was to show weakness and convince Brenya that he couldn’t handle the truth of what had happened to his Grace.
Brenya pushed him back down, and the instant she touched his skin, the crescent-shaped mark she’d left on him a few months ago burned.
“Why the hell not?” he demanded.
“You will want to be her heart, but the parts of her that loved you are gone from her. She will not know you.”
“Not know me? Of course she’ll know me. She nearly died to save me.”
“Memories of you are one of the many things lost to her.”
“You don’t know that. Not for sure. She hasn’t even seen me yet.”
“I do know. The healing I did bound us inextricably. I’m part of her now, as she is of me. I know her mind. And you, young warrior, are no one to her now.”
Those words, delivered without warmth or pity, hit him harder than any wound he’d ever suffered. His voice cracked with pain. “You’re wrong. Let me see her and I’ll show you how wrong you are.”
“What will you do if you see her? Confess your love? Demand that she remember a man who is no longer a part of her mind? Grace is still weak. All your words can do now is damage her more.”
“I’d die before I’d hurt her.”
“Then give me your words. Pretend you do not know her. Speak nothing of her past. Stay silent until you see that what I say is true.”
“Whatever you want. Just let me see her.” He had to see her with his own eyes, to know she was safe. And no matter what Brenya thought, the bond that he and Grace had went deep. She’d been willing to die for him. She nearly had. No matter how much she’d changed, she couldn’t have forgotten him.
“Vow it,” demanded Brenya, the stormy waves in her eyes rising.
“I swear. I won’t say a word to her until you allow it.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, the weight of the vow he’d given bore down on him, making it hard to pull in his next breath. Even if he wanted to speak to Grace, the magic binding him to his word would make it impossible.
“Lie still,” ordered Brenya. “I will bring Grace to tend your wounds so she will not question why she is here. If you do anything to upset her, I will fling you back to your world and never call on you again. Grace will live out the rest of her years here, never to see you again. Do you understand?”
“I do. I promise I’ll be good.”
Sadness made Brenya’s strange eyes tilt downward. “I wish that goodness could be repaid by something other than disappointment.”
“Grace has never once let me down. She’ll remember me.”
“That Grace—the one you think you know—is gone. The sooner you accept that, the less pain you will suffer.”
He didn’t care how much pain he had to endure. Grace was worth whatever price he had to pay to have her back again. And this time he wouldn’t squander the gift she was. Nicholas was right that her human life would be only a brief moment of time to Torr, but he would relish every second and spend what time there was making her the happiest human who’d ever drawn breath.
Brenya let out a long, sad sigh. “I had hoped you would have chosen the easier path. I see the folly in that now.” She stepped across the room and sat on a stone stool. “Brace yourself, young warrior.”
Anxiety and excitement buzzed along Torr’s veins. The pain of his wounds was still there, but none of that mattered. Grace was alive. Nothing could diminish the relief that gave him. Even if she was weak from risking her life for his, even if she was no longer quite herself, he didn’t care. She was still his Grace, and the side effects of her sacrifice for him could not possibly make him love her less.
Torr found the strength to push himself upright just as the door opened, letting in dusty shafts of sunlight. He refused to squint at the sudden brightness. He didn’t want to wait even one more second to see her again.
“You summoned me, Brenya?” Grace asked in a quiet, sweet voice he would have recognized anywhere.
He still couldn’t see her from this angle. She was standing outside of the doorway, blocked from view. Still, his entire body became alert, every cell standing at attention in response to her nearness.
The need to see her—to see proof with his own eyes that she was alive—nearly drove him to his feet. Only his worry that he might topple over and embarrass himself kept him pinned in place.
Brenya waved toward him. “This man was injured slaying the beast. Tend him.”
“Yes, of course.”
Grace stepped into the hut. The door shut. His eyes adjusted to the dimness almost immediately, revealing a slight glimpse of the side of her face.
Her hair was longer now. Much, much longer. Soft black curls fell nearly to her waist.
There hadn’t been time for her hair to grow that long, had there? She’d only been gone for seven months.
Some bit of stored knowledge tickled the back of his mind, but his head was throbbing too much for him to grasp the thought.
Her arms and legs were bare beneath a short leather tunic, showing off muscles he was certain hadn’t been there before. His Grace had always been softly rounded, with curves that made him pant with need. The leaner, harder body he saw now was proof that she had changed.
Maybe food was scarce here. Maybe that was why Brenya had seemed so pleased about a giant pile of lizard meat.
Just the thought of Grace going without the basic necessities was enough to make a sudden wave of anger swell in his gut.