She stayed in that spot, meditating and reliving her past with Thalion over and over. The only time she moved was to get sustenance and then return.
Could she see herself without Thalion in her life? Yes, but it was a bleak outlook she didn’t want to examine too closely. But she made herself do it anyway. Cyn forced herself to look into the future of a life absent of her elf prince. Her heart clenched and her eyes filled with tears as the pain of such a fate overwhelmed her. She felt as though all of the oxygen had been sucked from her lungs, and air was a precious need she could not obtain. Thalion was her air. He was what breathed emotions into her world. Cyn had been an empty shell before she’d met him, simply living out her purpose without the hope of something more in her life.
Her fists clenched as they pressed into her thighs with bruising force. Without Thalion, she would miss out on the precious touch he gave so freely to her. She would miss out on his laughter and the mischievous glint in his eyes. Without him, she wouldn’t experience the passion, joy, and friendship that only came with a mate. She would be giving up so much while gaining nothing.
She knew without a doubt she could not accept that fate. She could not walk away from a man who was offering her every part of himself. And though accepting him would mean much sacrifice, it would not be for naught. For she would be gaining him. Her mind made up, Cyn stood, closed her eyes, and flashed.
Chapter 12
“The counsel of others is priceless. By their wisdom we are often able to find our way back to the path from which we have strayed. By their guidance we are able to avoid the pain of mistakes. I am on the path that I have no doubt leads to you, and I will not stray, not ever again. I will wait if I must, but I am hoping someone guides you back to the same path that will lead you to me.” ~ Thalion
Considering elves lived so long, grief was not something with which Thalion often had to contend with. And so when he did experience it, the shock of the pain was like a knife to his gut. He had sat beside his friend for a week, watching him slowly fade away until he’d finally drawn his last breath.
The elf prince knew it was what Reeve had wanted, but that did not make the loss any less painful. As with all death, it is the realization that something so incredibly final crashes into the lives of those who are still living, still moving forward, creates an agony so deep they wonder if they will ever be able to have joy again.
And, as it is with many things, the only healing there is for such loss is the passing of time. Time that seems to fly by at the speed of light when life is smooth and pain free but crawl like an injured snail when grief overwhelms. Thalion knew that his own grief would ease, but the hole left in their people by the loss of Reeve and his mate would forever remain.
He sat back in the chair of his library and closed his eyes, wondering what his lovely Cyn was doing at that very moment. He had longed for her to by his side while Reeve crossed over, but he had promised to give her time and he wouldn’t go back on his word. With Reeve gone, and Thalion’s story shared, he found he craved her even more. Theirs was a story worth telling their children one day—a story of love and loss, of joy and pain. A story that proved that, regardless of one’s fate, or destiny, life requires choices. Destiny didn’t live itself out. Just because it was the written story for your life did not mean there would be no bumps or trials along the road. He was ready to begin his journey with Cyn. He yearned for them to move down their own path, no longer alone, each navigating the terrain by themselves. Instead, they would be together helping each other along, encouraging one another, rejoicing with each other, and crying when life overwhelmed them. He was ready. He hoped that she would soon come to that same place, prepared to stand beside him.
“She hasn’t come?” Peri’s voice filled the silence.
“Is there a policy against knocking for the high fae?” Thalion asked her as he turned to face her.
“No policy,” Peri denied. “But knocking just seems to waste precious time. Now, onto more important matters. Have you heard from Cyn?”
He shook his head, trying to cover the sadness his answer brought.
“She will choose you,” Peri assured him. “She’s too intelligent to walk away.”
“You’ve spoken with her, I presume?”
“Yes, and for once it wasn’t like pulling teeth. She actually handed them over willingly. Okay, that’s a disturbing picture—a toothless Cyn.” She chuckled.
“Yes, thank you for that,” Thalion muttered. “Did she tell you that she’d made a decision?”
“No, but I know her very, very well. And since I know she will choose you, I feel it is my responsibility to give you the wholeI’ll kill you if you hurt herspeech.”
“By all means,” Thalion invited with a wave of his hand.
“Thalion, prince of the elves, mate to Cyn of the fae, I name you.”
Thalion’s eyes widened. He hadn’t been expecting a binding spell, but then he should have known better. It was, after all, Perizada he was dealing with.
“Should you purposefully hurt Cyn in such a way that will cause her significant problems, whether physically or mentally, you will suffer my full wrath. You will kneel before me, Perizada, high fae, ambassador to the wolves and protector and teacher of the gypsy healers, and be held accountable for your actions. Do you understand this decree as it has been explained to you?”
“I do and I shall accept the consequences should such an atrocity ever occur.”
“Well, good.” Peri breathed out. “That was fun.”
“Really?” Thalion frowned. “If that is your idea of fun, I’d hate to know what your idea of a bad time is.”
Peri’s lips turned up in a grin. “I don’t really have bad times. Being able to turn annoying people into handbags, rugs, and turds pretty much prevents it.” She gave him a wave before flashing, leaving him with those lovely images.
“You never told me why Peri so rudely snatched you from our bed, Mina,” Vasile said as he ran his fingertips up and down her arm.
Alina leaned into him, resting her head on his chest. “You distracted me, if you recall.”
She felt his chest bounce as laughter rumbled out of him. “And what a good distraction it was.”
