Chosen (21 page)

Chapter Thirty-five

“I
thought I'd have to wait until evening to find you. Thought for certain you'd be at Kyana's side.”

Ryker turned to find Ares standing in the doorway of the dining hall where many of the injured were being tended by Healers. “I would be, but she was having a fitful sleep. I was afraid lying next to her would be too painful.”

Ares moved slowly through the crowd and sat beside him. He seemed to have aged twenty years in the last two hours. Dark circles rimmed his eyes. Lines creased his forehead that hadn't been there the day before. Blood splatter painted his tunic, and his red cape was dirty and torn.

“How many dead and wounded?”

A Healer appeared beside them and spread her hands out inches from Ares's skull, where a massive lump was taking form and turning green.

As the Healer worked, Ares closed his eyes and shook his head. “Too many bodies from both sides to determine that. Sentinels are searching for wounded. My Elite Guard is dealing with securing the prisoners. Henry insisted on collecting our dead and preparing them for burial.”

Ares cleared his throat. “Artemis would have been proud of her today. You chose your mate well.”

“Yes,” Ryker agreed. “I did.”

He studied Ares, saw pride in his eyes. When Ryker had been ten years old, Ares had come to claim him, and since then, he'd wanted only one thing from Ryker. It was time to let bygones be bygones and finally give the old man the only thing Ryker had of value.

“Ares, please pass word along that I'd like all gods and goddesses of Olympus to gather in my council room this evening for a feast.”

The Healer stepped away from Ares, brushing her hands on her tunic. Ares rotated his shoulders, obviously feeling much better after the tending, the lump already pea-sized.

Ares stood and started for the door. “What is the reason I am to give?”

Smiling, Ryker said, “I think the time has come to formally recognize you as my father.”

Ares opened his mouth. Closed it again. And before he turned to leave and do as Ryker asked, Ryker saw the faint trace of a grin on his father's face. “As you wish.”

“That was kind of you.” Kyana's voice turned Ryker in his seat.

She was standing just a few feet away, wrapped in a thick blanket, her face pale, but her mouth smiling.

He pulled her onto his lap as gently as he could.

“He's wanted it for years. Seems foolish to me since the entire Order already knows I'm his son, but . . . it means something to him to have me say the words.”

Because for so long, Ryker didn't want to
be
Ares's son. Times had changed, however, and loyalties had been proven. Ares deserved no less than Ryker's now.

She pressed her lips to his. Tenderly, softly, she caressed his face before pulling away to stare him in the eyes.

“As a human, my father treated me like property, sold me like cattle, took his payment, and I never saw him or my mother again. My husband, Mehmet, was a beautiful man. When he visited our home, he was kind, attentive, and smiled at me all the time. I fell so deeply in love with the idea of someone being nice to me that I confused it with love. I discovered on my wedding night how wrong I was.”

He wanted to find her father and ex-husband and kill them both again. Very slowly and with an eternity of pain.

“No man had ever told me he loved me. Desired me, hated me, terrified of me, yes, but never that he loved me. And when you said those words, I thought it was just like when Mehmet smiled at me.”

“I'm nothing like that bastard,” he said. “I don't want anything from you but who you are and what you have to give.”

She opened her mouth, nodded, but didn't say anything. Ryker smiled and squeezed her hand. “You said the words once. Are they so hard to find again?”

“No, I just—”

“I'll take whatever you can give, and if you'll stick around long enough and give me the chance, I'll do everything in my power not to disappoint you, Ky. I'll make mistakes. I can't promise you perfection. But I
won't
disappoint you.”

Despite his words, he wanted her to say she loved him again so badly his stomach ached. Until recently, he'd never heard anyone tell him he loved him. That gift had been delivered by his father. Now he wanted more of it. From the woman he saw at his side for the rest of his life, her hair fanned out on his pillows and her venomous tongue lashing out at him when he screwed up.

“I love the way you make me laugh and the way you make me want to hit you. I love the way you smile when you're pleased and scowl when I've pissed you off again. I love the way you smell, and the way you kiss me, and the way you show me every time we're together how much you care about me.”

He smiled against her mouth, but she pulled away.

“But mostly,” she continued, “I love
you
, Ryker. Believe me, I tried not to and I don't like failing at anything I try to do. But I failed at this. Despite all my efforts, I love you.”

Warmth spread through Ryker's body like wildfire. Finally, she was his and he was hers and
something
about this fucked-up world made sense. This time when her lips covered his, Ryker tasted her surrender.

They stayed like that for a long while. When Kyana finally pulled away, the lines of grief were still etched on her face, but a renewed spark of life had filled her brown and amber eyes.

“If you think I'm living here, you're wrong,” she muttered, standing.

Ryker grabbed her hand, smiling. “I didn't ask you to.”

She shrugged. “You would have. Pack your stuff, Surfer Boy. I want you in my bed tonight . . .” She walked away, pausing when she reached the door. “Every night.”

As Ryker watched her go, he couldn't stop the shit-eating grin spreading across his face.

“She shouldn't speak to the God of Gods in such a disrespectful manner,” a nearby Healer said. “You're not to be ordered about like a slave.”

Ryker chuckled, knowing the woman could never understand why Kyana's demanding nature turned him on. Taming Ky would be fun. Difficult as hell, but fun. And he had an eternity to do it.

Tonight would be explosive. Especially when she found out he'd had her things moved to his temple that morning.

Epilogue

K
yana sat as regally as possible at the table in Ryker's council room, the smell of the prepared feast gnawing at her until she was woozy. She wished he'd get on with it already so they could eat, drink, be merry and then . . . go to bed. Even if it
was
his bed and not hers. She was still miffed about that, but her promise to withhold sex from him as punishment wasn't going to happen.

She'd have to think of something else to make him pay for his trickery of moving her to his temple without her permission. But that could wait. Right now, she was weary from the sadness that had come from burying their dead today. As Artemis's broken body had been grieved over, Kyana had been unable to watch. The goddess had been the closest thing to a mother Kyana had ever had. Watching her final descent into the Underworld had been too much to bear.

Even Geoffrey, who'd had no body to bury, had been eulogized. For that, Kyana had left her place among the gods to stand beside Haven and hold her. She had hope for Haven, however. The old Haven would have crumbled and dissolved with such a loss. But this one . . . whatever Haven was to become, she would be strong. She would survive it.

Now, as the sun made way for the moon and the feast had been prepared, all the gods and goddesses and Oracles and every member of the Order who'd fought for them today sat packed at the tables, ready to eat and be praised for their victory.

Her gaze lingered on Silas and his girlfriend, Sixx, involved in a heated discussion by the window. Poor Silas. Haven had had to confess to him that the Dark Mage who'd struck her in the battlefield had stripped her of Silas's powers—which had been the only thing that had saved her life.

When Poseidon found his permanent Chosen, Silas would be left with nothing. He'd pretty much be human with a slightly longer longevity. He looked absolutely pitiful as he sat with that knowledge now.

Sixx caught Kyana staring and threw her a glare. Kyana turned her attention to her empty plate, wishing she could make food appear on it. But she couldn't. Not until a few matters had been settled. The first of which, Ryker was now standing to address.

“It is no surprise to any of you,” he said when the room quieted, “that I was brought into the Order nearly four hundred years ago when I was ten.”

Kyana choked on her cider. Four hundred years ago? Gods, was he really that old?

“It is also no surprise that, while Ares claimed me as his son, I have never claimed
him
as my father.” All eyes were on Ryker, but Kyana held hers steady on Ares, who was looking rather uncomfortable yet proud in the back of the room. “I wish to remedy that today. A father protects his child. Stands beside him and offers him words of counsel. Ares is my father, by rights and by blood. I give that acknowledgment to the Order of Ancients and wish it to be set in the annals of our history.”

A loud cheer erupted and smiles beamed their way at the old God of War, who nodded his acknowledgment with a stoic face.

Ryker cleared his throat. “That said, we have one more matter to attend before we can enjoy the fine meal Kyana's Nymphs have prepared for us tonight.”

Kyana's Nymphs
. Not Artie's. The well of sadness would never be completely filled again with small thoughts like that. That Ryker had brought Artemis's Nymphs and dogs to live with them at his temple reassured her that he knew how great Kyana's loss had been. She loved him even more for that.

But the topic he was broaching now had her shifting uncomfortably in her chair. The crowd parted and Haven was led down its center by Henry. When she reached the dais, Haven knelt but kept her head lifted, her gaze on Kyana.

“Haven Monroe's trial was to take place when she finished her purging,” Ryker said. “A purging that was interrupted by the events that have plagued us these last few days. It is the wish of Goddess Kyana that the trial be held here tonight. By consent of the Ancients, her wish has been granted.”

As his gaze drifted to Haven, Ryker's voice softened. “Is there anything you wish to say, Haven?”

Haven shook her head, her gaze never wavering from Kyana's.

If she needs my strength, it is hers.

“Then on behalf of the Ancients, I proclaim your freedom. Your actions in this war have proven your loyalty. You will be monitored until we are certain you've not embraced the Dark Breed blood you now possess. If you desire to continue your work with the Order, you are welcome here, Haven. But regardless, you will check in with us each week until your monitoring is finished. Are you agreeable to these terms?”

“I—what?”

Ryker cleared his throat. “I asked if you were agreeable to the terms I have laid out.”

“I—yeah.” She gave a slight nod, swaying on her feet. “I'm . . . free to go?”

Kyana made her way around the table to take Haven's hand. “You're free, Haven,” she whispered. “It's what Geoffrey would have wanted. It's what you
deserve
. Take the opportunity to return to your work and prove to all the doubters that we didn't make a mistake.”

“Then I wish to leave now.” Haven glanced around the room. “I don't belong here. If I'm truly free, let me go.”

“Tonight we celebrate. You're as much of the reason for that as any of us.”

“I don't
want
to celebrate!” Realizing she'd shouted, Haven leaned in closer to Kyana. “I want to be alone.”

The pain in Haven's eyes was too much for Kyana. She looked to Henry. “Escort her to our home Above. Make certain the house is protected.” Then to Haven she said, “You must check in with me in a week, Haven, but if you need me before that . . . any time . . . I'll be there.”

Haven nodded and turned away, allowing Henry to take her arm and lead her out of the temple. With a heavy heart, Kyana returned to her seat, grateful when Ryker gave her thigh a supportive squeeze.

“She'll be all right,” he whispered, and Kyana nodded, glancing out the window to watch the chariot take her best friend to another world. “She's almost as strong as you are.”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “She is.”

The humans would never have any idea what was sacrificed for them here today. But that didn't matter. As Kyana's gaze swept across the grinning faces of the Order members accepting their plates of food and goblets of wine, she felt the lump in her throat dissolve.

Humans might never know, but the Order of Ancients would never forget.

Acknowledgments

To the team behind Sable Grace: Our editor extraordinaire, Erika Tsang, for not cringing every time we need a little hand holding. Our fantabulous agent, Roberta Brown, who gives new meaning to the word loyalty. Our spouses, Kyle and Carmine, for bringing home the bacon while we hold down the forts. Our children—Sydney, Hunter, CJ, Laney, Andy, Kaileb, Lolley, and Hayvin . . . for sometimes understanding that Mommy is a little busy, even if it looks like she's just daydreaming.

To Jay Beeler, for all his help with the Turkish translations. Any mistakes are ours and not his.

And finally, thank you to our readers for following Kyana and Ryker on their journey and loving them as much as we do.

About
the Author

S
ABLE
G
RACE
is the writing team of Heather Waters and
Laura Barone, long-time critique partners and friends who came together by fluke
to discover their voices fit quite nicely during a writing experiment. The story
became far too interesting to put down and Sable Grace was born.

Both Heather and Laura reside in
Florida, are happily married to their real-life heroes, and are, well, complete
opposites. Still, there's enough common ground for them to weave their words
together in the voice of Sable Grace.

You can reach them both at
[email protected] or visit their website at www.sablegrace.com.

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