Beloved (36 page)

It didn’t take long for Octavion to realize he was in trouble. Nothing could have prepared him for what these three Royals had in store for him. He recognized the device they carried. He’d seen one in his youth when training to be a Jayde in Panthera. Made of a unique metal found only on the highest peak of Mount K’San, not only did it have the power to neutralize his gifts, but in the right hands could take them from him completely. In other words, it could turn him into a Hollow.

It all made sense now—why King Tyrius took such an interest in Shandira and then Lydia—why he reacted to his son’s death with such anger and why he’d put a price on Kira’s head. Octavion had always known he was a collector of gifts. That fact Octavion had always known. But because Octavion was nearly impossible to defeat, let alone capture, Tyrius had tried luring him in—first with his sisters and then with the woman he loved. All along, Octavion—and his gifts—had been the true object of the tyrant king’s attention.

When Luka appeared at his side, the Kazedonian’s snatched them both from the arena and took them to a swamp on the other side of Fire Canyon, a narrow patch of land separating Xantara from Kazedon. With Kira already eliminating two of the men and with Luka’s help, Octavion thought he had a chance, but he’d barely gained his footing when three more appeared, followed by two more men who appeared to be hybrids.

His first thought was to disappear and take Luka with him, but he knew they’d follow in his wake, and even if they didn’t, leaving would only put Kira and the others in more danger. No. This fight had to be fought, and finished, here. Now.

Luka, you need to go.

And let you have all the fun? Not a chance, cousin.
Luka repositioned himself so that he and Octavion stood back to back.

I mean it. I need you to take care of my family in case this does not go well.

Shut up and fight. I am getting bored with your chatter.

“Well boys,” one of the hybrids said, followed by a deep, throaty laugh. “Shall we dance?

The muscles across Octavion’s back and shoulders swelled until he had fully transformed. He could hear Luka growl from behind him and knew he’d done the same. They would need all their strength to survive this fight.

Kira’s hands trembled as she placed her palm on the back of a young woman who’d suffered a long gash across her shoulder blade by a Kazedonian’s sword. Blood seeped out slowly, soaking her beautiful lavender gown. It wasn’t the first wound Kira had healed by far—she’d lost count hours ago—but it was one of the most severe.

After Kira had seen the magnitude of the injuries, she’d asked Altaria to bring linens from the castle so Ussay could help bandage the minor cuts and scrapes. Kira had to save her strength for the life threatening injuries. Even then, she’d had to take several breaks to wash the blood from her hands and regain her oomph.

Kira focused on the woman’s wound and gave what energy she had left to healing it quickly. She moaned deeply, but didn’t cry out.
Brave
, Kira thought. Others had screamed from the pain it took to heal their wounds, but not this one. She held Lessa’s hand and gave no more than a whimper.

“I believe this is the last one,” Lessa said, releasing the woman’s hand after a brief squeeze.

“Thank you, Princess Kira.” The woman got to her feet and curtsied before joining her friends who waited a few feet away, their wagon already hitched to start their return journey to Finvarra.

Kira didn’t think she’d ever get used to being called a princess and the thought of one day being a queen nearly gave her hives. She sat back on her heels and let her arms sag at her side. “Thanks for all your help, Lessa. I couldn’t have done it without you and Ussay.”

Lessa gathered the bloody rags. “You are very welcome, my dear. I am grateful more were not hurt.” She tossed the rags in a nearby fire. Kira knew it would take days for the blood to seep into the soil and for the smell to go away, but burning the used linens and bloody clothes would help with the smell of commoner blood. With the exception of Altaria, the Royals left to hunt almost immediately after the Kazedonian soldiers retreated. As soon as she had brought linens, Altaria joined Blayde and Cade as well.

Ussay approached with more soiled bandages and tossed them in the fire. “You look exhausted, Kira. Perhaps you should rest.”

“I’m all right.” Kira looked down at her bloody hands. That was the worst thing about healing—not the pain or depletion of her strength, but having everyone’s blood on her hands and clothes.

She clumsily stood, balancing herself on Ussay’s shoulder. “I think I’d like to go back to the castle, but I need to wash up first.” Arriving at a castle full of Royals covered in blood was not a good idea.

She glanced over her shoulder at the gleaming white towers and colorful windows. The distance between her and the structure seemed to stretch out like taffy being pulled in a candy shop. Her whole world seemed to sway to one side and she stumbled back.

“Whoa,” Lessa said, bracing Kira on one side while Ussay took the other. No way would she make it that far on her own and since she hadn’t heard from Octavion. She hoped he had joined Altaria on the hunt or that he slept peacefully in his mountain retreat. Oh, how she wished she could collapse in his arms right now.

“Perhaps you should stay with me tonight,” Ussay offered. “That would give you time to wash up and change. You can borrow one of my dresses until we can get you something else.”

Lessa adjusted Kira’s arm around her shoulder. “I think that is a wonderful idea. It will be dark soon and I need to get back to Lairdor to make sure everyone has what they need for the night. Thank goodness none of them were hurt, except . . .” She paused for a moment, her expression suddenly sad and tearful. “Nigel taught us many things. He will be missed.”

Kira hadn’t let herself think about Nigel since she had jumped into the fray. She wasn’t even sure if his body had been retrieved and prepared for burial. “I’m so sorry, Lessa. I—”

“It is not your fault, dear. He cared very deeply for you. There is no shame in protecting our loved ones or in giving our lives for them. He would not have wanted to die any other way. The gods will take care of him now and his suffering is over.”

“I know, but still . . .” Deep down she knew Lessa was right. Even Nigel had said he’d be happier in Lor. Kira tried to imagine the magical reunion between him and his loving wife. The image would have to get her through the next day of burials and the customary three days of mourning.

Lessa and Ussay helped Kira the short distance down the hill and to Ussay’s cottage. Seeing the bed as she entered the small space was the last thing Kira remembered before everything went dark.

Kira woke to the aroma of fresh baked bread and one of Ussay’s special teas steeping in a kettle that hung over the fire. She glanced at the small table where one place was set along with a bowl of fruit and a plate with sliced bread. She threw her legs over the side of the bed, tossed back the covers and sat up. A rush of cool air hit her, only then alerting her that she was sitting there stark naked. She grabbed the covers and pulled them up around her neck.

She could hear Ussay humming on the other side of the door so she waited. She stretched out the kinks in her back and neck, then examined her hands to find them clean. She could only imagine what Ussay and Lessa had done to her after she collapsed, but she wasn’t going to complain or be embarrassed. She was eternally grateful for their friendship and willingness to help her.

She ran her fingers through her hair several times to get out the tangles, then unsuccessfully tried to reach a spot on her back that itched. After several tries, she scooted against the wall and rubbed her back against the stone wall.

“Ah,” she groaned.

A splash of light split the room, Ussay’s shadow blocking a small portion on the floor and up one wall. “You are awake.” Her chipper tone made Kira smile.

Ussay closed the door behind her, a bundle of cloth in one hand and a bucket of water in the other. “Altaria brought you some clean clothes and linens to wash with. I hope you do not mind, but I had to burn your clothes last night. There was too much blood on them and . . . well, you were covered so I had to wash you up a little as well.”

“I don’t mind. Thank you.”

“You are very welcome.” She sat the bucket on the hearth and separated the linens from a long white gown and another outfit Kira knew Altaria had picked out—leather pants and a white tunic with lavender flowers embroidered around the hem.

“Why the gown? Am I sleeping here again tonight?” Though she couldn’t imagine why, unless the smell of blood had affected the Royals more than she’d thought.

“It is a mourning gown. We wear white to represent the purity of our loved one’s soul and to give them a final farewell to Lor. It is our custom to bury the dead on the first day, which is today. Altaria wasn’t sure if you would want to wear it or not, so she brought both.”

Kira couldn’t help but notice Ussay wore her usual attire, a brown dress with a long white apron. “Will you be mourning today?”

“I will, but I have some things to do before I change. I do not want to soil my gown.”

“I see.” Kira debated for a moment on which outfit to wear before she settled on the pants and tunic. She needed to go to the castle to meet up with Octavion before having him take her to Lairdor to make sure everyone there was all right. She also wanted to find out when they planned to lay Nigel to rest and where. In her opinion, he deserved to be buried in the cemetery reserved for royalty, but the more she thought about what he’d want, Pride Meadow sounded like a better place. It was peaceful there and he’d be surrounded by his friends and family.

Ussay poured some water into a wash basin and arranged the linens and a bar of soap next to it. “Take your time. I will meet you at the castle later. I need to gather some flowers and take them to the homes of those who were lost yesterday.”

“How many?” Kira had only attended to the wounded and hadn’t even asked about the dead. Deep down she hoped the number was small, at least for Xantara.

“Five yesterday and two more this morning.”

“This morning? What happened?” Had she slept through another attack?

“Nothing. An elderly man who lost his wife yesterday was found by her side in their cottage. He had no wounds that the family could find. They say he died of a broken heart.”

“And the other one?”

Ussay looked down at her hands twisting in her apron. “My mother.”

“What?” Kira sprang from the bed, blanket and all, and embraced Ussay in a warm hug. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. Here you are taking care of me. I’m so . . . selfish.” She choked back the tears and swallowed the lump in her throat before letting Ussay go. “Please forgive me.”

Ussay patted Kira’s hand and smiled genuinely. “There is nothing to forgive. My mother has been ill for a while now, more so after you left. We expected she would leave us any day now. It has been years since she had her wits about her and now she is free from the limitations of this life. I am happy she is with my father. I am sure their reunion was glorious.” She wiped a tear away from her chocolate brown eyes.