His brow furrowed. “Not seriously. His hair and skin got singed. He screamed—so did I. But the flames leaped and spread, razing the entire hamlet there.”
The fiery orb snapped back into his palm. “To placate the inhabitants, my sire shipped me off to squire at the Gates of the Gods, the political powerhouse of all deities. There, I met Dagan. He was a few years older, and he became the brother I often wished mine would be. After I passed my eighteenth year, I left the Gates and fought in my sire’s wars for a while, then I returned home…”
He scrubbed his jaw. Kira waited.
Something bumped into her ankle. She looked down and found Echo’s cat weaving its chunky body between her legs. “Bob, what are you doing here?” She reached down and caressed the feline’s smoky-gray, furry back when she heard Týr’s low words, “I killed someone, a female I cared about. I never meant for it to happen…”
Instantly, she straightened. Týr was one of the most protective people she knew.
“Narfi and I had a disagreement. We often did. Hell, we’d fight about the color of the sky, so this was no different. He accused me of wanting Jora and going behind his back to change her mind so I could win her first. The fight started, and I was already in a mood after an altercation with my sire, who was furious about my decision not to join him and my brother in his wars any longer. Anyway, Narfi manacled me with his telekinesis, the one thing I loathed, and I retaliated…”
Oh, hell.
Týr pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jora tried to stop us but got caught in the blaze instead. She died, charred beyond recognition. Narfi was inconsolable with grief, and only then did I realize it was more for him. He was in love with her, too…”
Bob wandered off to investigate the edge of the slippery lake. Kira wrapped her arms around her waist, not sure how she felt knowing had Týr loved someone else even, if it had been eons ago. Then she shook her head and realized it didn’t matter. “What happened?”
“I only had to pay a death rite because she was from a lower tier—”
“What do you mean death rite?
A nerve pulsed on his jaw. “Usually, it’s a fine. Gold’s given to the victim’s family in compensation for the death. And a hundred lashes from the wronged, with our healing abilities blocked for a week. It’s the norm for those like us. Jora’s family refused the latter, but I insisted. Narfi stepped up and performed the deed. But her death ate at me…”
“It was an accident. A tragic one, but an accident,” she protested.
“You’re too soft-hearted, Kira.” He gave her a little smile that didn’t quite reach those churning irises, the swirling colors reminding her of the deadly storms on Jupiter.
She studied the firm lines of his chiseled jaw. His eyes, which could be as cold as glaciers or warm like the sun, now appeared dull with remorse.
“Perhaps,” she said slowly. “But you cannot change the core of the person you innately are, Týr. Sometimes, to save the one we love, we don’t think rationally, we rush in blindly to stop even a deadly fight.”
He remained silent.
“Is that when you left and became a protector to the goddess Inara?”
He nodded. “I joined, hoping for a way to make up for my wrong. I removed myself from the place where I’d always remind everyone of my savagery. I swore my allegiance to the tribunal at the Gates and left to the Sumerian pantheon. My sire was undoubtedly ecstatic to see the last of me. Besides, younger sons from powerful houses were being conscripted to become protectors anyway, so I saved him the trouble.”
In life, she was finding out, nothing was ever what it appeared. After all, she’d lived a human life for twenty-five years, believing she was one. And she wasn’t. “I came here torn apart, and now my problems seem so trivial.”
“It’s not trivial.” Týr glanced at her, his expression serious. “The point of me telling you this is not for sympathy, Kira, but so you know I understand. Your grandmother was real to you until a few hours ago, and now she’s gone. You need time to grieve. You should also speak to Luceré.”
At the name, she shook her head, the overwhelming sorrow of loss drowning her once more. “I can’t right now. I know Gran wasn’t real, but I miss her so much.”
“In retrospect, and despite her facade, Luceré is the one who raised you,” he said quietly. “She’s the one who lived with you for most of your life, the one who loved you—only in a different form.”
Her shoulders sagging, Kira lowered her gaze. She understood all that, but still… “I know. I-I just need time to process.”
“It is a lot to take in. But we’ll take it one step at a time. Together.” He grasped her hands and pressed his mouth to her knuckles. She looked up. The warmth, the love in his eyes steadied her. “C’mon, let’s go inside, I need to leave for patrol soon.”
As they ambled back to the castle, he put his arm around her shoulders, drawing her close. “You need to talk, I’m here.”
She inhaled a shaky breath and nodded. He would be.
Týr had showed it to her in so many ways and so many times. This immortal. He was her constant, her entire life. And right now, her lifeline in a turbulent sea of confusion and pain.
* * *
A chilly breeze ruffled his hair as Týr stood at the bottom step of the brownstone. He should have gone straight out on patrol after he’d left Kira, but here he was, back again. Dammit, he had to know what dangers his mate could face with this Ancient as her mother. All powerful beings had enemies.
