“There’s a possibility Kasaros is fucking with me,” Bael admits.
“Why?”
“I made a bargain with him years ago, never intending to break it. But he’s made it clear he wants me to suffer.”
“Is he not your God?”
“Kasaros represents the masculine energies. Without Amara to counter balance him, he’s grown more savage and volatile over the years. He seeks amusement in our pain, and believes a man’s strength lies in the power he can take for himself. If I’m too weak to deny myself, then I should suffer.”
“That’s ridiculous. What kind of bargain?”
Bael turns and lifts his sword again. “When I was fourteen, my father was killed in battle. My mother was heavily pregnant with my youngest brother, Flynt, and so she was forced to hold our keep against our enemies. She was so strong. So brave. But Tyrga, the clan chief who desired our lands, could not bear to lose to a woman. He brought in catapults and started pounding our walls. Mother used her magic to hold the keep together, but in doing so, she brought about an early labor. The walls could not spare a single warrior, so I was the one who helped bring my brother into this world.”
His voice roughens. “There was too much blood. She had given too much of herself to save our people, and my magic wasn’t yet strong enough to heal her. Mother knew she was dying, but she made me swear to protect my brothers with her last breath. I have four of them. Rowan, Slate, River, and Flynt.”
I glance at his broad back, throat thickening as I feel the pain radiating in his voice.
“The walls were coming down,” he continues. “I had a screaming baby in my arms, and three terrified children who all looked to me to save them. Our warriors were dying in droves, stricken by a never-ending flight of arrows, and the only one who could save them was me. So I conjured Kasaros and begged him for the full strength that should have been mine once I reached my majority. And he gave it to me. I challenged Tyrga and slaughtered him on the battle field.”
It paints a new picture of my nemesis and I finally feel like I understand him. This man is a protector at heart. It explainseverything. The way he can be both furious predator, and also inexplicably gentle. I see his mother now in everything he does.
“Your mother would have been proud of you.”
Bael pauses, glancing down at me. “I think she would have liked you very much.”
“Oh?” I don’t know why that thought makes butterflies dance inside me.
He smiles wryly. “When Tyrga came to Blackfyre Keep with my father’s head in a bag, my mother told him she was going to burn his kingdom to ashes and feed him his own entrails. It reminds me of someone else I know.”
“Is that actually possible?”
“The entrails?” He considers it. “My mother’s magic was strong. She could heal people, so I imagine she could have kept Tyrga alive whilst she disemboweled him.”
“I’m a little surprised she was so… outspoken, considering your world is ruled by men.”
This time, the look he gives me is determined. “My people are not like many of the other petty kingdoms. My mother and father were mated for life, and she ruled at his side. When he died, the magic that bound them tried to tear her from this world, but she held on for Flynt’s sake. My father was fire. Wild and erratic and powerful enough to consume an entire army with his magic. But my mother was a mountain. Stern. Implacable. Unyielding. Nothing could tear her down when she put her will to it. We honor that in my family.”
“You have magic?” Aylin had magic, but I’ve seen little of his. “What does it do?”
His face shutters. “I can heal a wound. I can kill a man from a distance. Many things.”
That’s not exactly an answer. Why? Is he hiding something?
The suspicion is confirmed when Bael turns toward me, sheathing his sword. “Tell me of your life. Do you have brothers? Sisters? Family?”
And there it is, the heavy weight in my stomach. “My parents died of the plague when I was young. And I had a sister once, but no more.”
His voice softens, his hand coming up to cup my cheek. “You’re alone?”
I hadn’t realized how much it hurt until he says those words. The connection he shares with his brothers is too real. It’s been so many years since I’ve seen Aylin’s face. What would it be like to laugh with her once more? To argue with her, the way we used to?
“Yes.”
“What happened to your sister?” Bael asks.
“She—”
The ground begins to shake.
