Ayna smiled almost sadly. "Nothing so heartbreaking. The life of a Shama is one of sacrifice. I have not had the time to chase after love. I have pursued knowledge as another might pursue a lover."
"Do you regret it?"
She hesitated but a moment before shaking her head. "No. I knew what I faced when I submitted to this life. What I have learned is worth sacrificing for. And there will always be time for other things."
"Will there? I too have sacrificed, but hollowness is all I have earned for my pains."
Ayna's hand was soft as flower petals when she laid it atop his own. "Maybe you've been pursuing the wrong thing, Rhanu."
He gazed at their intertwined fingers. "One might say the same of you."
The fog broke for a moment, and bright moonlight streamed through the open door. It was the hunter's moon, large and golden as a wolf's eye. Ayna settled beside him as they silently observed it. He was startled when she leaned against his shoulder. For an instant he froze, aware of her herbal scent, the softness of her skin against his. Her scent of cloves and rose petals perfumed his nostrils, dizzying him in the sweetest of ways.
"The moon is full." Her eyes glimmered with its light. "The face of Divia, goddess of life and Creator of all. So beautiful. She calls to us on nights like this. Stirs our desires, our passions. She tells us to let go and embrace what lies inside of us."
Rhanu said nothing. He did not wish to disturb the moment, the sensation of being so near her. The wolves howled to one another, filling the night with their song. They flitted through the mist, gray ghosts that drifted under the moonlit sky.
"I don't know how to let go."
Ayna's face was near to his; her eyes alit like the moon above when she gazed up at him. "Let me show you."
Her fingers touched his face, her gaze locked with his. He pulled her closer, his mouth finding hers, sensing the same hunger in her that suddenly surged within him. They drifted to the blankets, oblivious to the chill of the frosty air as the heat of their bodies bloomed and enveloped them.
"Are you sure?" His hands stroked her raven hair, his faces inches from hers. "If you do not wish—"
"Not what I wish," she whispered. "What we wish. Just let go, Rhanu…"
And he did let go. Lost in the feel, the scent, the sweet taste of her mouth and the softness of her skin, he surrendered and let himself submerge into the moment with her. Her breath shuddered in his ears; her arms clutched him with passionate strength.
The moon veiled itself in fog as the wolves howled their music long into the hazy night.
Chapter 47: Alaric
The highest tower of Aceldama was the only spire that topped out above the ever-constant cloud cover that protected the Sects from the sunlight that made them mortal. Alaric was grateful for that weakness. One could only imagine how disorderly they would be if not bound to darkness. He often regretted being forced to Gift the humans. Imparting a portion of the Co'nane's power had been necessary to battle the Reavers, but humanity's flawed personalities had not improved with their changed physical forms. They only became more enslaved to their passions and ambitions. And then they found ways to multiply their numbers, causing further havoc and chaos.
"So much is hidden, as if cloaked by this eternal fog. Events spiral beyond my control. The Guelph rallies men against me. But who directs the Guelph? Some unknown enemy, or someone close to me — a Sect Speaker, perhaps?" He turned to Serona. "Or am I betrayed by one of the Blood?"
Her face was composed, her tone calm. "The truth will be revealed before long, my lord. Whoever it is shall not be able to remain hidden forever."
"The world has changed while I sat in seclusion. Whether we will survive or perish will be determined once again. We have been down this road before." He gazed into the distance. "This time will be no different. Our enemies will rise and meet us here, at these very walls. The sky will roil with fire; the clouds will rain blood. And at the end of it all, I will lead my people to victory once more."
"What of the Reaver? He is north of us, in the realm of Norland." Serona's eyes shimmered with deadly fires when she turned that direction.
Alaric gestured offhandedly. "Yes. The Guelph rebels attacked the Norland king when their ruse was exposed. All who were involved were slain by this Reaver and his band. It is of no concern." He smiled inwardly. "You feel his presence?"
"Our encounter bonded us. He will be drawn to me. Drawn here."
Alaric clenched his fist. "Where he will meet his end. I know how to destroy his kind. He will come with all who will stand with him. And then…it will be finished. Like my enemies, I too lay traps." He turned away from her. "I should like to be alone for a while, Serona."
"As my lord wishes." She bowed and focused Effluvium, fading into mist the wind carried over the rampart. His lips thinned as he watched her departure. Serona was the closest person to him, the one whose soul intertwined with his own, yet she remained as mysterious as ever. He had only begun to realize that perhaps he did not know her at all. He paced the tower as he stared westward, where events were in motion that would bring war to his land.
"My lord."
Something moved slightly, blocking the sun to cast its shadow upon him. What he had thought to be one of the gargoyles bowed respectfully. A Dhamphir. The other granite-colored creatures genuflected in homage as well. They often disguised themselves as stone, and he had paid so little attention that they fooled him. There were more of them on every spire and rampart of the palace, and they would remain there until he ordered otherwise.
Alaric suppressed the urge to shiver as he nodded in acknowledgement. He alone knew the truth of the creatures' origin, why they gave their allegiance so devotedly to the Co'nane. That was part of the price he paid for the power to destroy the Reavers, when he had braved the passage into Ersetla Tari. The truth cut far deeper than any of the pains he received in the passage there.
He had not dared to share what he learned with anyone else, not even Serona, for it was his burden to bear alone and in silence. If ever the truth were revealed, it would devastate the Co'nane far more than any plot devised by man. He felt the burden of his solitary knowledge more acutely than ever. You have to be strong. A storm comes, and you must be ready for it.
With his concentration disturbed by the Dhamphir, he abandoned the tower and returned to the palace interior. He caught sight of Celestine and Tasith pretending to be cordial to each other. He almost smiled as he approached. They inclined their heads as he stepped between them to gaze out the color-glazed window. On the grounds below, a stream of bodies arrived at the grounds of Aceldama. The dim light glinted off of armor and weapons. They had come from all parts of Erseta to answer the call of their Speakers and show support of their king. Many had never been to Aceldama in their lives. Alaric reflected on the distance the Co'nane had placed between them and the Sects. Perhaps he should have made the practice of hosting them more often.
He drummed his fingers against the stained glass. "Still not the numbers I expected."
"Some are divided." Tasith wore a long, richly embroidered cream-colored coat over a ruffled silk blouse and stylish trousers tucked into tall, heeled boots. "Many of my people are not warriors. They are reluctant to adjoin themselves to a battle of such magnitude."
Alaric fixed his gaze on her. "Is it not enough their king so orders it? Have the Sects forgotten their allegiances to the Blood that rules them?"
Tasith immediately lowered her eyes. "My lord, we have not forgotten. I shall double my efforts to gather my Sect." She bowed away.