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There. It was done. His course had been set, his future decided.
Any other man would have experienced triumph. Puck nodded, confused by the hollow sensation in his chest.
William stared at him, silent, before returning the nod. "Now we dethrone Sin and win back your kingdom. Let's go."
16
Day 41, AB (After Bond)
Gillian flew across the sand and landed with a grunt. As she climbed to her feet, knowing she would be kicked in the face if she stayed down, she tried to catch her breath. A nearly impossible task. She spit out a mouthful of blood and maybe even a tooth.
She ran her tongue over her aching gums. Yep. Definitely a tooth. Thanks to her immortality, she'd grow a new one by morning. She knew this beyond a doubt, because she'd already had to regrow four others.
"Rush me again," Winter said. "And be faster, stronger and three hundred percent better at it this time."
Sure, let me get right on that.
"Give me a sec." Gillian cracked the bones in her neck and rotated her shoulders, praying the dizziness in her head would clear.
"In battle, there are no secs."
Didn't she know it!
After a failed attempt to follow Puck out of Amaranthia, Gillian had agreed to train for combat. Why not put her hatred for her absentee husband to good use? And really, she couldn't live her dream and fulfill her purpose--helping abused women and children--if she remained weak.
Winter would teach her how to use every weapon available in this primitive sand hell after she learned how to fight hand-to-hand. Only one problem. Colonel Winter believed pain was the best motivator.
Every night, Gillian went to bed with fresh breaks and bruises. At least she'd stopped crying herself to sleep.
One day she would be strong and skilled enough to repay the favor.
It was nice to have goals.
"Well?" Winter prompted.
Trying not to broadcast her intentions, Gillian rushed forward, and drew back her elbow. Before she could deliver a punch, Winter swooped around her and kicked her so hard she feared her spine had been snapped. She fell to her hands and knees. No time to rise. Winter straddled her, grabbed her by the hair and wrenched up her chin.
Cool metal pressed against the racing pulse at the base of her neck.
"How can you protect yourself if you can't, you know, protect yourself?" Winter demanded. "I love Puck. Well, not love. He's not me. I like him. He calms me. If you die, he dies. So you can't die. Is your feeble brain beginning to comprehend?"
Gillian didn't enjoy hearing that another woman liked her husband. Because Puck didn't deserve such devotion, of course, and no other reason.
"Do something." Winter pushed the blade deeper, drawing blood. "Don't just passively accept my--"
Gillian erupted, throwing back her head to nail the other woman in the chin. A grunt of pain sounded. Without pause, she spun and punched. Her fist made contact with Winter's nose for the first time ever. Cartilage snapped, and blood poured from her nostrils.
A glorious tide of satisfaction made all of Gillian's aches and pains fade.
She expected Winter to explode into a fit of rage, but finally, shockingly, her trainer looked at her with something akin to pride. "All right. Now we're getting somewhere."
"Bring it," Gillian said between panting breaths. Her sternum burned with every inhalation, and she wondered absently if she'd broken another rib.
And oh, wow, they were getting somewhere. The idea of a broken rib wasn't sending her into a tailspin of panic. The thought of more pain wasn't engaging her fight or flight response.
"Um, no. Not today," Winter said. "You look ridiculous with your missing tooth. We'll reconvene tomorrow when the sight of you doesn't make me want to weep for all of womankind." She strode away without striking back, leaving Gillian alone on the crest of the sand dune.
Camp was below, at least fifty eyes on her, all glittering with mirth. Puck's clan of outlaws found her determination to develop combat skills hilarious.
"Suck it," she shouted. Something she'd learned: the men of Amaranthia treated the women deplorably.
Sorry, boys, but one day soon your world is going to change.
Abusers would be punished. Stables would be abolished.
For most of Gillian's life, she'd lived in a cage, held prisoner by fear and misery. While actual walls and locked doors kept women trapped in stables, she imagined the "fillies" felt a similar helplessness and dreamed of freedom.
Must train faster. "Winter," she shouted. "Get your sweet butt back here." From now on, Gillian gave this her all. Nothing held back.
When Puck returned, he would find a much different wife, and a much different realm.
22 years AB
Dear Puck,
Cameron let it slip that you commissioned him to keep a detailed history of everything that happens during your absence. I decided to help him out because (apparently) I need an outlet for my rage. I've started Hulking-out.
See, one second I'm calm. The next I feel as if I'm experiencing the rage of a thousand men combined. I'm able to toss 250-pound losers like they're pebbles.
Weak and fragile, Pucky? I don't think so! Not anymore.
I blame you and your demon. What did you guys do to me?!
During a Hulk-out, only two things are able to stop me. I eventually tire and pass out, or I'm force-fed syrup from a cuisle mo chroidhe tree.
As you probably know, harvesting the syrup takes massive amounts of time and energy. The trees are hard to find, and their poisonous bark is a major bummer.
I'm ready for your return. If you're thinking she wants to show me one of those rages up close and personal, you're correct. You deserve it. You know you do.
If you're thinking she's the same girl I left behind, and I can easily intimidate her, you're wrong. Over the years I've been punched, kicked, jabbed, stabbed and hacked. And let's not forget the few times Indifference has returned to drive me crazy. Now? I'm tough as nails, baby.
Anyway. You'll be happy to know--wait. Rephrase. You won't care to know I've grown to like Winter. Yes, she's selfish to the max. Yes, she looks out for #1, always and forever. But those she considers her "personal property," she protects with her life. Through famine, plague and war with other clans, her fierce spirit has helped keep us going.
To combat her demon, she turns everything into a game. Her way of inviting someone into her world, I suppose, since overtly giving anything to anyone causes Selfishness to make my girl flat-out lose her mind.
What does Indifference do to you?
By the way, I haven't thought about our kiss at all. Nope. Not once. I don't miss you, and never wonder where you are and what you're doing. Thought you'd want to know.
Gillian Connacht
PS: Puck sucks.
106 years AB
Dear Puck,
I'm too excited, and have to share with someone--even you. Check it. I acquired magic!
Wait. Maybe I should backtrack a little, since you're so big on history and all. About sixtyish years ago, Cameron branded runes into my hands at my request. Fast-forward a few weeks. A man ambushed me, thinking to take something I wasn't offering. (FYI. Your little bride hasn't taken a lover yet. And not because she's devoted to you. She's waiting for William. Boom. Mic drop.)
Anyway. Cameron noticed the commotion and rushed over, but he was too late. I'd already started slashing.
After my attacker-victim expelled his final breath, dark mist rose from his motionless body. The same mist I saw my first day in Amaranthia, after you killed our ambushers. Remember? Only this time, the mist absorbed into ME. Oh, the warmth! The tingles!
Drunk on power, I decided to leave Amaranthia, visit the Lords and their Ladies in Budapest, do the whole reunion thing with William, and find out if he'd locked you up somewhere, just liked he promised. I mean, it wasn't like anyone could stop me. The student had already surpassed her teachers.
And no, I wasn't wishing you'd gott
en yourself locked up. I no longer hate you, okay? I only mildly dislike you now. Time has softened me, I guess. Also, I finally understand why you did what you did.
I had a light bulb moment after one of my recruits fed me bad intel in order to lead me into a trap. Crap move, right? She planned to present me to a stable master as a gift. Like I'm some filly who needs to be broken and ridden. I barely knew her, and yet her deception hurt. In more ways than one! How much worse was it for you, when your own brother betrayed you?
More than that, you believe the Connachts will thrive under your rule. Whether they will or not, I believe they'll perish without you. So, yeah. I get it, I really do. I want a better future for my squad, too, and the children we save. I'd do anything to ensure their well-being, even gut you where you stand. But here's the thing. If you ever purposely injure me again, or lie to me, I'll make a kabob with your favorite man parts and host a weenie roast.
Won't be my first, or my last.
Now, what was I saying? Oh, yeah. My exit. As soon as I reached another realm, my magic vanished. Maybe because I'm not Amaranthian born? Maybe because I'm not yet strong enough. Whatever the reason(s), I backtracked in a hurry.
