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What he believed might be true felt almost tragic to him. He had nothing to give Willow and he’d been the cause of her father’s death.
But he kept going north because he had to think.
As he flew, he used his cell to let Evan know where he was and that he’d be back in about half an hour. Evan related that things in Birchingwood had calmed down considerably and that most of the villagers had started going about their business. The RIU agent had finally returned to complete his investigation. “Otherwise, the realm is quiet. No Invictus sightings tonight.”
“Good. That’s good.” He took a deep breath. “I’ll talk to you later.”
When he reached his destination, he landed on a massive slab of granite that protruded from the hilltop of one of Ashleaf’s highest mountain ridges over a mile high.
He placed a hand on his stomach once more and shook his head slowly in complete disbelief. He wanted to deny that the lack of cramping he experienced meant something, but he felt it in his bones that Willow’s blood had strengthened him. Even his muscles felt bulked up. He looked down at his thighs and could see that his leathers were tighter than before.
Power flowed through him as well with streams of energy that made him feel like he could do anything.
But it couldn’t be true.
Please don’t let it be true.
His mind rolled backward to how Willow had bathed him. And that’s when a profound longing slammed through him all over again, and he stumbled, losing his footing.
He levitated quickly or he would have fallen over the precipice.
Sweet Goddess, this just could not be happening. Not to him.
And the sex and the vines and Willow’s soft yielding body beneath his … and her blood. Her own responsiveness and their shared cravings for each other …
His heart hurt and his chest felt caved in. He gasped for breath he couldn’t find.
Willow.
No, please, no.
Surely the pain in his stomach would return any minute now and set him free from an entanglement he couldn’t afford.
Surely.
He waited a minute … five … then ten. But for the first time in two-hundred years, since he’d risen to mastyr status, he had no pain. And from the events of the past two years and from the first time he chased Willow through the woods, it all made sense now, especially his complete and utter obsession with her.
There could be no doubt; Willow was his Goddess-be-damned blood rose.
He roared the depth of his frustration, letting his loneliness, his anger at the evil forces in his realm, and his blood-needs rage into the air. He was only surprised that the entire forest didn’t catch fire with the depth of his distress.
When the last roar echoed down the hollows, he began coming back to himself.
Willow was a blood rose.
And nothing could change that.
The problem was that she could never be his blood rose.
He’d been in his recently built communication center and he’d read the exchanges of the bonded mastyrs, those who’d gone through exactly what he was experiencing, but who had also embraced their women. He knew the signs, especially the sudden release of centuries of terrible cramping in his stomach because only a blood rose could take that kind of pain away.
In his case, however, there were tough obstacles preventing him from ever bringing Willow fully into his life and he honestly didn’t see how they could be overcome. His own duties demanded all of his time, and he couldn’t be distracted by a woman. There was that. But worse, he’d played a terrible role in her father’s death, so how would Willow ever be able to forgive him for what he’d done?
He cringed inwardly. The memories flooded back of when her father held a sharp blade to the troll’s throat, threatening to kill him. Malik had tried to calm the grief-stricken husband down, but nothing could reach him. When the tall, fae professor sank the blade, cutting deep, he’d given Malik no choice; Malik had fired a single, powerful hand-blast straight into his head, killing him instantly.
The troll had almost died as a result of that cut.
Willow’s fae father had essentially chosen death-by-Guardsman rather than live without his half-wraith, half-fae wife, leaving Willow orphaned.
