His hands fisted at his sides, mighty weapons rendered useless in the greatest battle of his life. "I can't imagine not wanting you, lass."
Tears spilled over her cheeks, and she wheezed for breath. Those tears--little droplets of water--affected him like a dagger through the heart; they were killing him.
She used the back of her wrist to wipe the moisture away. Narrowed her eyes. Lifted her chin. Squared her shoulders. A transition he'd witnessed many times before.
Gillian had just gone full-blown warrior.
"I understand now," she said, her tone almost deadened.
Bit by bit, the emotion on her face simply vanished, until she peered up at him with cold, hard eyes devoid of affection, adoration and tenderness. All the things he'd grown to love and crave. Things he couldn't imagine living without ever again.
He hadn't been dying before, he realized. No. Oh, no. He was dying now, watching this. Watching Gillian use magic to summon ice. This slayed him. Her tears had been difficult to witness, even more difficult to witness than the ones she'd shed after sex, because she hadn't been broken, then. She'd been free.
She was broken now. Because of me.
Too much!
"I truly don't get a happy ending," she said in that horrid, deadened tone. "You'll break our bond. Our precious, holy bond that gifts us both the family we've always wanted. I'll yearn for you still, but you'll no longer yearn for me. Or maybe we'll yearn for each other, but won't be able to do anything about it. Maybe the shears will prevent us from ever bonding again." She laughed without humor. "Perhaps I'm an Oracle. I can see the demise of our relationship so clearly. But I don't care. Not anymore."
"No one has ever broken a bond and survived, but we will beat the odds." He rubbed the bird tattooed on his chest before he tugged on a pair of pants, a pair of boots. "If we cannot bond again, but still yearn for each other, we can marry as humans do."
"Won't be the same. Our bond allows you to control the demon and feel without consequence. Our bond makes me immortal. What will happen when he overtakes you again, huh? What will happen when I'm mortal--if I even survive the transition?"
"You will live, will remain immortal. You took the potion, and you made the transition. That won't ever change. You are strong enough now."
"But I won't matter to you," she said, and turned away.
"You will matter to me, always," he hissed. "What you won't do is turn me into a villain over this. I'm willing to give up what I want most, so that you can have what you need most. Because you deserve free choice. I won't be like your stepfather. I won't take what you don't wish to give. If your heart belongs to William, you deserve to know it."
If the male touches her, I will--
Nothing. Because nothing mattered more than her freedom of choice. He forced his mind to blank--as blank as Gillian's features.
"I told you I loved you and I meant it," she said. "I loved you. Then. Now?" She shrugged.
His heart sped into a gallop, and sweat beaded over his brow. He felt as if he'd run hundreds of miles in an instant, adrenaline flooding his veins. "The ice will melt. I'll make sure of it. You'll love me again."
"You fear," she continued as if he hadn't spoken. "You fear I'll betray you the way Sin betrayed you. That is the only reason you plan to do this."
Perhaps it was a reason, but not the reason. "What if you only think you love me?" he croaked.
"In this, we can't live by what if."
Words he'd spoken, now used against him. Still, he hardened his resolve. For her. "In this, I can't live any other way."
A moment passed in silence before she lifted her chin another notch, as if she'd just made a world-altering decision. "You convinced yourself that you're doing the right thing, but all you've done is tear me apart." She loaded up with different weapons and a canteen of water. "There's no power great enough to make me desire someone I don't actually want. If I thought there was the slightest chance I belonged with William, I would have resisted you. But you...some part of you suspected I wanted someone else, but you took me anyway. So congratulations. You don't have to wait to sever the bond to find out if we can be together. I'm done with you. We're done."
"We are never done," he roared, ruining everything he'd previously said. He took her by the shoulders, spun her and yanked her against his body. Then he kissed her. Kissed her until she softened against him and kissed him back.
Relief flooded him. Her ice was melting.
"Show me you love me," she croaked. "Show me now."
And he did.
*
"Time to go," Puck said.
Gillian strapped on her weapons and marched behind her husband, glaring daggers into his back as they abandoned the camp and trekked through the sand dunes.
After they'd made love, after he'd told her they would never be done, after he'd shown her just how much he loved her by worshipping her body with his hands and mouth, he'd acted as if nothing had happened and dressed.
She would have liked to return to her cold, emotionless state, detached from the pain still festering inside her, but she didn't. If she was going to make him understand her side of this, she needed every emotion in her arsenal.
Two suns glowered overhead, and only heated with each new mile they traipsed. When the sand dunes gave way to a forest-like oasis, Puck glanced back at her for the thousandth time, silently beseeching her to understand his point of view.
She gave him the finger.
Although, she couldn't help but remember how--when he'd first brought her to Amaranthia--he'd walked away without looking back once. Today? He couldn't stop casting her longing gazes.
The realization shouldn't soften her, but dang it! She was easy as pie where Puck was concerned.
He didn't trust his feelings for her, or her feelings for him. And okay, okay. She hadn't trusted their feelings for each other, either, but only for a little while. Or off and on sporadically. Whatever! Then she'd gotten over it and decided to fight for him. To fight for them. And yes, okay, earlier she'd let fear about the prophecies scare her again. Or more. But he wanted to cut her loose, just in case some secret part of her wanted William.
Unacceptable!
And yes, it seemed honorable on the surface. But truth was, he didn't trust her, and a bond without trust wasn't a bond at all.
Or maybe she didn't trust him, and believed he wouldn't want her without the bond? Maybe she feared he would revert to his old ways, become the Ice Man again, and decide to wed Princess Alannah of Daingean and open a stable.
No, no. This was his crime. His! He might destroy their family. The risk was too great, with no real reward. Why couldn't he see that?
I want my happily-ever-after! But even now, she sensed the end of all she held dear.
A distant moan of pain drew her out of the chaos in her head. She frowned when she realized they'd left the forest and entered another stretch of sand. "What was that noise?"
"Came from there," Puck said, pointing. "Up ahead."
She scanned the dunes...and found a woman in tattered clothing, slouched on a dune, wind blowing the scarf she wore, causing the material to wave like a flag. Skin the color of the sands, hair the color of the sky and eyes like emeralds.
As she detected a telltale essence, recognition dawned in her heart, then her mind. "One of the Oracles!"
The woman held out her arm, but she wasn't strong enough to keep it in the air. How long had she been without food or water? Her cheeks were hollow, her eyes sunken. She was dirty and probably cold.
"Help. Please..."
"What are you waiting for?" She gave Puck a little push forward. "Let's help her."
He planted his heels, keeping her in place. "What is she doing in Connacht territory?"
Oh...crap. "You think she's a trap?" Help, please--Everyone in Amaranthia knew a woman's plea was basically Gillian's bat signal.
"Possibly."
She scanned the dunes again, searching for any hint of foul play this time. N
o creeping shadows. No odd scents in the air. No glint of metal peeking from the sand. No disturbances in the sand whatsoever. No hum of magic.
"Help," the girl called again.
"We can't stand here, doing nothing." Gillian remembered her first few years in the realm. She'd been lonely, hurting and desperate. Could she truly turn her back on a woman in the same condition?
"Stay here," Puck said. "I'll approach her."
Stand idle, watching, as he put himself in danger? No. "What happened to being impressed with my skill? You stay here. I'll test the waters."
Weapons at the ready, Gillian rushed around him. Halfway there, however, she slowed to better gauge her surroundings. Too late. Between one step and the next, a glittery patch of air--a doorway, or portal--opened up. Inside her, magic pinged, as if it had just brushed up against an electric current.
She stopped, spun. She hadn't changed locations, or entered another realm. The sand dunes still encircled her, the Oracle a few feet away.
"Stay where you are, Puck." Just in case. "There's some sort of magic shield around me. Maybe. I'm not sure what it is, exactly."
No response. She glanced over his shoulder and found him standing in the same spot. He hadn't moved an inch, and yet strain contorted his expression, a vein bulging in the center of his forehead. He acted as if he wanted to move, and fought with every muscle in his body to do so, but couldn't. His mouth was the only thing in motion, opening and closing. She thought she read her name on his lips, but no sound reached her ears.
She frowned as her stomach churned with unease. This had been a trap. Set by the Oracle? But why?
Perhaps Sin had learned of Puck's return and had used the unwitting Oracle to snag him?
But when was an Oracle ever unwitting?
Gillian backtracked, only to bump up against an invisible wall. Yep. She'd been enclosed by a magical shield. Trapped. But better her than Puck. Although, if he continued to strain, he might break every bone in his body.
She banged on the invisible wall, ripples sweeping over the air, hazing her view of him.
"Don't worry about me. Take care of yourself," she called.
Maybe the Oracle could help? Even if Gillian had to use force. Very well. With a dagger in one hand and a canteen of water in the other, she crouched beside the Oracle, ready for anything. She hoped.
"Here. Drink."
The Oracle reached for the canteen, her hand shaking so badly it affected her aim. Their fingers brushed, and the other woman inhaled sharply, horror filling her eyes.
"Do not trust your husband. You cannot trust him."
What had she seen? Determination mounting, Gillian grated, "I will always trust Puck. And you're going to help me get back to him. So drink up, and strengthen." To assist the Oracle, she tilted the canteen to her lips.
The weaker woman drank greedily, water dribbling down her chin. When she finished, she cried, "Thank you." Tears left streaks on her dirt-smeared cheeks. "Thank you."
"Look, I know this is a trap," Gillian said. "What I don't know is whether you're knowingly involved. Yes or no, you're going to help me get past the shield."
"I didn't know... I'm so sorry... Should have seen... He used me, plans to--" Her eyelids closed, her head slumping forward, as if a switch had just been flipped inside her mind. Her body followed, tipping over.
Gillian lightly tapped her cheek. Nothing. No response. The Oracle slept--because of magic?
Frustration and anger pricked the back of her neck, and she rose, palming a second dagger. Puck--
Was gone, she realized, no longer standing by the tree.
Panic beckoned. Where had he gone? What had happened to him?
A split second later, he reappeared, past the invisible wall. He must have flashed, using his newest surge of magic. Relief and dread went head-to-head, both overshadowing the frustration and anger. "I told you to stay back. We're trapped by magic, unable to leave the immediate area."
"No worries, lass. We'll find a way. We always do."
His easy tone held hints of relish, and it jarred her. Especially when it was followed by another gust of wind that carried the scent of wildflowers and maple. Her brow furrowed with confusion. What had happened to the heady mix of peat smoke and lavender, her favorite fragrance ever?
One made her blood burn with passion while the other left a chill of dismay in her veins.
"Puck," she said, taking a step toward him. Then she stopped, her heart pounding against her ribs. Her head tilted to the side as she studied her husband more closely.
He wasn't looking at her with hope, lust, adoration, anger, or even total emotionlessness. He looked at her with hate and suspicion, despite the slight smile curving the corners of his sensual mouth. In each hand, he clutched the hilt of a short sword. His knuckles were white, completely leached of color; he appeared to be posed on the brink of attack.
Do not trust your husband.
Puck would never hurt her. She knew it soul-deep. But this man...
"Come to me, wife," he said.
"Of course." The only conclusion she could draw: this wasn't powerful Puck, her beloved.
This was Sin, the shapeshifter.
43
Puck couldn't move. The moment Gillian had raced ahead of him, a bolt of magic had disintegrated his weapons and cemented his feet in place. Powerful magic...chaotic, evil. Demonic?
No. Couldn't be. At the moment, Puck was the only demon-possessed male in town. But the crux of the matter? Sin had come for him.
Why his brother hadn't attacked him outright, he didn't know. Didn't care. Only one thing concerned him right now: saving Gillian.
Sin appeared at the glittering shield that separated Puck from his wife. He cast Puck a look of abject longing--one Puck mirrored?
First view in centuries. Should have expected a punch of affection. A reaction ingrained in him since his younger brother's birth.
The years had certainly changed Sin, and not exactly for the better. He looked older, harder. His dark hair had turned white, despite his immorality. His muscle mass rivaled Puck's, but he carried it awkwardly, as if he'd never gotten use to the bulk.
A circle of gold glowed just over his head. Mortals would call it a halo, but it was actually a king's crown. Taken only through death, or a king's willing relinquishment.
A confusing mix of love and hate crashed through Puck. A terrible awareness of betrayal followed. Longing for what could have been. More adoration. An urge to kill, violently, savagely, ruthlessly--blood would flow in rivers. Regret strong enough to send him to his knees. If he could move.
In Sin's eyes, he saw the same emotions reflected back at him.
How could he kill the man who had once been an extension of himself?
How could he not? Sin was an obstacle between husband and wife. Obstacles between Puck and Gillian got crushed.
As he watched, Sin shapeshifted into a monstrous form with horns, claws and hooves. Puck's monstrous form, with no hint of the halo.
"Do not hurt her." Puck strained for freedom with every fiber of his being.
"I will do what I must," Sin replied, and he sounded sad.
"Gillian! Gillian, run!" If she saw or heard him, she gave no notice, continuing to minister to the Oracle. "Sin, please. I beg of you." What was pride without Gillian? "If you bear me any love, you will not harm her."
Sin closed his eyes, let his head drop, and Puck thought maybe he'd reached the little boy he'd once loved. Then the male he'd become faced Puck, determined and crazed, and turned away. He approached Gillian.
She had no idea an enemy drew near, would have no defenses against him. Puck fought harder, frantic.
"Come to me, wife," Sin said to Gillian, and motioned her over.
"Of course."
"Give your husband a kiss."
She smiled with all kinds of sweetness--though none of the affection Puck had come to know ever reached her eyes. He paused, certain he was reading her wrong.
"I
'd love to kiss my husband," she said, her tone as sweet as her expression. She closed the distance, her steps clipped.
"No. Gillian!" Fight, fight! Puck was willing to break bones, tear muscles and lose limbs to reach her. Anything!
"Put the weapons away," Sin-Puck said. "They aren't necessary."
A curse left Puck as Gillian obeyed.
She reached her "husband" and dragged her hands from the waist of his pants up his stomach, chest, and let her fingers linger over the bird tattooed on his heart. But Sin's tattoo was a mirage while Puck's had unimaginable power...
Metal glinted against Gillian's forearm as she slowly rose on her tiptoes. Puck dared to hope. She hadn't sheathed her weapons, after all?
Sin slowly lifted his arms, as if to embrace her. At the last second, he angled his wrists, preparing to strike.
"No! Gillian!" Panic choked him, but Puck kept fighting.
Indifference cranked up the volume, screaming inside his head. The butterfly tattoo slithered all over his body, sizzling against his skin.
Just before Gillian's lips met Sin's, she struck, angling her wrist to reveal the dagger. A dagger she shoved into Sin's neck without hesitation. Blood gushed, a crimson river. His brother howled with shock and pain as he stumbled backward.
"I know who you are," Gillian said, her tone hard and sharp. Kick, kick. She easily disarmed him. "What have you done with my Puck?"
She had realized the truth. But...how was that possible? Not even their parents had known when Puck and Sin had shapeshifted to switch places.
Whatever the reason, pride struck Puck. My woman knows me.
Sin's wound must have weakened his magic. Suddenly Puck could move his arm. Muscles strained and bones threatened to break, but he managed to work his hand to his chest and press two fingers against the rounded claws of his bird tattoo.
Long ago, he'd used magic to hide the shears of Ananke inside his flesh. Today he would use the shears to break Sin's hold and aid Gillian.
Except, he hesitated. What if the shears could only be used once? He'd wondered before, but feared now. He wouldn't be able to divorce Gillian--bonus--but he also wouldn't be able to part with Indifference. And if they could only be used twice? He could divorce Gillian, as planned--because yes, he would always give her what she needed, and she needed her freedom long enough to learn the true emotions in her heart--and Puck would be stuck with Indifference, without a filter.