Bound By Fate: A Novel of the Strong (25 page)

She could feel the electric heat of his venna hissing from within and around his skin.
 

Against all reason, she longed to take it, to comfort him.

“Let go of me,” she whispered instead. Though determined to not back down, she found herself blinking back helpless tears.
 

She tried to hang onto her anger, but as she stared into his stoic face, she felt it fade away into… numbness.

All through their night together, Toran had been such a mix of emotions. Desire. Hesitation. Guilt.
Fear?
So many feelings all jumbled together.
 

Now, he just seemed lost.
 

In her current state, though, she was helpless to help him.

 
“What do you want from me?” she asked in a whisper.

She watched him blink. Then swallow. Then nothing.

He still doesn’t know.

Pulling her hand from his, she backed away.

She was surprised when he spoke. His voice was so soft Liv had to step forward to hear him.

“What almost happened in there.” His eyes went glassy. “I did not want it to happen… not with you.”

As soon as his whispered words crossed his lips, the small room was engulfed by the intensity of his emotions. His feelings were so oppressive, so negative, Liv staggered backwards until her back hit the door.

“I can feel your anger… your hatred.” She closed her eyes to the agony. It was no use holding back her tears.

“Oh my gods. You do hate me.” As that wretched realization dawned, she sucked in a sob. “You hate me so much you can’t…” She averted her eyes to the still evident erection beneath the towel wrapped around his waist. “So much so, you won’t let yourself…”
 

“Listen to me…” Toran took a step towards her.

“Don’t come near me.” She threw out a hand.
 

From inside the bedroom came the sound of a ringing phone.

He made no move to go answer it.

Heaving out a breath, Liv could feel the venna he had gifted her begin to fade. With it, centuries of longing were washed away. Somehow, she steadied her voice to say, “I am so done with this. I am so done with you.”

Done?

“What the hell are you talking about?” His anger and despair quickly fading away to a gut-gripping panic, Toran shifted forward, his palm swept out in question. “What the fuck does that mean,
you’re done
?”
 

“It means I’m done playing this game with you.” She waved a hand between them. “This, this, whatever it is between us. It means I don’t want to live here with you anymore.” Straightening her shoulders, she lifted her chin and declared, “I’m moving out.”

“Excuse me?” Through his dumbfounded confusion, Toran heard his phone chirp with an incoming text. He ignored it. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’ll stay here in Venn Dom,” she explained, “but I’m going to find a place of my own.”
 

“What?” Blood roared in his ears.

“There’s a vacant cottage on the grounds of the children’s home. I’ve been making arrangements to live there.”

He knew the cottage well. But Liv did not belong there. She belonged here. At home.
 

With him.

“You’re not moving out.”

She gazed up at him, her ocean eyes as calm as a summer morning. Her voice was soft when she answered him. “Yes, Toran, I am.”
 

He blinked at her, trying to understand her game.

“Has Anara put you up to this?”

“Anara? No, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Then your witch friend has…”

“You know, Toran,” she said, “I do have a mind of my own. I can think for myself.”

“Well, then you need to get it through your thick skull that you’re not leaving. You’re not going anywhere.” He stabbed a finger in her direction. “That’s just not going to happen.”

“Toran.” She stamped her foot. “Can you seriously stand there and tell me you want me here?” she cried. “After what just happened in your bed?”

I want you here.
 

Somehow, he managed to swallow back those words.

“You know I can’t stay here any longer,” she said. “This isn’t working. This has never worked. Neither of us is happy.”

“Happiness has nothing to do with it. Godsdammit!” He tried to shout down the insistent ringing of his phone. When it subsided at last, he took a deep breath and tried to calm his voice. “Look, I just need…”
 

“I know what you need,” Liv interrupted coolly. “When you need my ‘services,’ just let me know. We will do it at the clinic, nice and clean.”
 

“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.” Toran raised a palm to stop her. She wasn’t making any sense. He lowered his voice. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about keeping my word. But, this time, we’re going to do it on my terms,” she stated. “I’ve spoken with Anara…”

“You’ve what?” He took an aggressive step forward.

She shoved him away. “It’s no secret why I’m here, Toran,” she cried. “I’m a faine after all. I have asked her, as a doctor and my friend, to supervise our feedings. This way, I can still feed to get what I want… and you can have whatever you need from me.”

“Are you fucking crazy?” A blue haze clouded his vision.

Supervised? Was she actually suggesting they do what they did… in front of others? To have a witness to the fire that burned between them?
 

She was insane.

He screwed his eyes shut, trying to squeeze out the venna. When he opened them, Liv was standing in the now open doorway.
 

“Why are you being so stubborn?” he accused.

Gods, has she always been this stubborn?
 

“You need me…”

“No, Toran,” she said. “I really don’t. Not like you think I do.”

At that frank admission, his mind reeled. Throat thick, he felt as if he’d choke on the simplest of words. Before he could push past the awful truth of her statement, she turned and left without saying another word.

His venna simmering in anxious confusion, Toran could feel Liv move through his bedroom and across the hall. Minutes later, he felt her walk out of her room and down the stairs through the great room below. He glanced at the clock.
 

It was five-forty-one in the morning.

His phone began to ring again.

Slowly, Toran turned to face the mirror, the harsh lights of the bathroom illuminating his misery. He stared at his reflection, hating the blue fury that raged in his eyes.
 

Liv was right. Earlier, she had felt his hatred.
 

But that hatred had been directed solely at himself.
 

Unable to bear the evidence of the poison coursing through his veins, Toran smashed his fist into the mirror. Not satisfied with the pain, he punched it again and again with both fists until he pulverized the glass back to sand.
 

Adrift in his misery, blood dripping from freshly inflicted wounds, Toran tried to regain some sense of composure, some sense of sanity.

How the hell can I make this right,
his crazed mind screamed,
when I’ve been damned to live a life without her?

His phone rang again.

Heaving out a shout of frustration, Toran stalked through his bedroom to the night stand, his hands and wrists dripping blood. He grabbed the phone and swiped a thumb across the face and whipped it to his ear.

“WHAT?”

As he listened, Toran cast a gaze in the direction his faine had gone. Then, something said on the other end of the line caught his attention.

“I’ll be right there.”

“What the fuck happened to you?” Merus exclaimed as Toran pulsed inside the tent that was set up just inside Baltia’s outer border.
 

“It’s nothing.” Toran waved a hastily bandaged hand, hoping Merus would, for once in his life, mind his own damned business.
 

“It doesn’t look like nothing.”

No such luck.

“What the hell did you do?”

Toran didn’t dare glance his cousin’s way. Even now, his face burned under the daemon’s scrutiny. Though he threw up a shield as usual to block his emotions from his part-faine cousin, he feared there was no hiding Liv’s scent that still clung to his body. Too alarmed by Merus’s urgent calls for help, he hadn’t taken the time to shower.

“Drop it, Merus,” he said gruffly as he rubbed his aching chest.
 

Gods, the way I treated her.

Closing his eyes, Toran again reached for their connection. He could feel her… there… safe at the children’s home. Comforted by her presence––even from afar––he turned towards his cousin to focus on the problem at hand.

“How bad is the breach?” he asked. According to Merus’s update earlier, the Sorcieri’s spell had weakened by half in a matter of minutes, exposing their entire eastern front.

Feliks and his fucking games.

“It’s bad,” Merus answered. “I’ve dispatched the bulk of our men along the border. We’ve managed to drive back the Sumari’s attack without any of our men being injured. Other than that, there’s been no sign of further trouble.”

Meaning the assassins hadn’t breached the border. Meaning Kellen and his men were still safe from harm.

“That’s good.” Toran gave a sharp nod. “Tell the men to do whatever it takes to hold the line. But, godsdammit, Merus,” he added, “I need you to find your brother now. I can’t afford to wait any fucking longer.”
 

His curses were met with thorny silence.

“Did you hear what I said?” he barked.

“The rebels are here,” Merus finally answered.

“What?”

“They’re here,” Merus repeated. Moving forward, he motioned towards the map laid out on the command post’s table. Toran joined him there. “They’re two and half miles inside the Baltia ‘el.”

“They’ve ventured in this far?”

“I was just as surprised as you,” said Merus. “It seems…” his voice trailed off.
 

Toran leveled his gaze on his closest friend.

“What is it, cousin?”

“It seems that my brother is here also.”

Toran let out a low whistle. “Kellen has shown himself?”
 

“Yes,” Merus answered “And he’s asked to meet with you.
Voluntarily
,” he added with meaning.

“Why would he think I’d ever agree to meet with him?” Toran scoffed. “It’s obviously a trap.”

Merus barked out a laugh. “Yes, it certainly is…
for himself.
”

When Toran said nothing in answer, Merus threw out his hands in frustration.

“Will you just hear what he has to say?” he cried. “It would be the smart move given how you’re so godsdamn determined to go through with your wedding night!”

At his cousin’s heated words, Toran stared down at his boots. His stomach felt as empty as a hollowed out log.

“Toran, you know you can’t risk a battle,” Merus continued. “Or for the assassins to get to him. Let’s just go see what this is all about.”

“Kellen fights for revenge,” Toran said. “Do you really think talk could sway him to leave Venn Dom forever? To abandon his traitorous ways?” Even if Toran was just looking to talk with the daemon, he held no illusions Kellen could be reasoned with. Kellen’s wife, along with their two-year-old son, had been murdered at the orders of Narcyz. At the time of her death, his wife had been heavily pregnant with their second child. Narcyz had practically advertised the gruesome details of their murders to keep the other daemons in Baltia in line.
 

Not surprisingly, Kellen had lost his mind. He hadn’t ceased his rampage across all of Baltia since.

Toran could not begin to fathom the daemon’s pain.

If anything happened to Liv…

Toran trembled under the force of that truth.

Luckily, Merus didn’t notice.
 

Instead, his cousin continued to plead his brother’s case.
 

“I have to believe there is more to my brother than mindless revenge,” said Merus. “In the territories he has conquered, Kellen has tried his best at reform, at helping our people break free from the past.”

Toran had no answer to that. But it still didn’t change the fact that Kellen had to die.

Merus placed a tentative hand on Toran's shoulder. “I understand that you chose a certain path––one that spared our people… and you… additional pain…”

Toran angled away sharply from his cousin’s touch, away from the sting of conscience.

“…but Kellen, for his own fucked up reasons, chose to fight,” Merus continued, the passion of his conviction resonating in each of his words. “I believe you both have the same goals in mind, to help us get to a better place. Please… just talk to him. Please don’t…”

Toran turned away from his cousin’s pleading eyes. He walked to the open mouth of the tent. As he surveyed the valley below, he contemplated the decision before him.

Toran blew out a desperate breath.

Given he was already damned, what did any of this matter?

His phone vibrated. Swiping it up, Toran saw Anara’s number displayed on the screen.
Five missed calls.
He slipped the phone back into his pocket.

“What is it?” Merus called out from behind him.

“It’s nothing,” he murmured before falling silent.
 

“When can I meet with your brother?” Toran asked at last.

At Toran’s words, Merus sucked in a hopeful breath.

“He’s waiting for you now,” he answered.

*****

As Merus walked with Toran towards the designated meeting place, his heart beat as if he were marching into battle.

Though Toran hadn’t tipped his hand, Merus had to trust that his cousin would see reason. He had to believe that Toran would not seek to take his brother’s life today.

A brother he hadn’t seen in decades.

His and Kellen’s past was… complicated.

Born of different mothers, from almost the moment of birth, their lives could not have been more different.