Page 51 of Lord of the Lone Wolf (Bonded Hearts #3)
She embraced him once more, her bony arms holding him with surprising strength. “I am so proud of you, son,” she whispered, the words flowing into his heart. “I’ll always be watching over you from the Beyond Realm. Be happy with your mates. You’ve earned it.”
“Mates?” Maseo repeated, confusion cutting through his grief.
Her laughter was light and carefree, the sound transporting him to sun-dappled afternoons from his childhood to moments of safety and joy that had sustained him through years of darkness. “Enjoy knowing your father will fume for eternity in Blightmare Vale soon.”
“What are you talking about?” Maseo asked.
“I love you, Maseo.” She hugged him tighter, and he clung to her, memorizing being held by her a final time. “It’s your turn to be happy. Be well.”
“I love you, too,” Maseo whispered, the words inadequate to express the depth of what he felt.
Her blue soulflame flared, brightening until it was almost painful to look at.
Then, with a soft sigh of contentment, it released its hold on the bones.
The skeleton in his arms dissolved into dust that slipped through his fingers.
The soul hovered for a moment before pressing a warm kiss to his forehead, then disappeared into the sky.
A sob tore from Maseo’s throat. He fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around himself as if trying to hold on to feeling her embrace.
Tears streamed down his face, grief and gratitude warring within him.
To have seen her again, to have felt her love once more, was a precious gift, but losing her a second time reopened an old wound to bleed anew.
Strong arms encircled him, pulling him against a solid chest. Kitsuki held him with surprising gentleness, cradling the back of Maseo’s head as he wept. He offered no platitudes about time healing all wounds. Instead, he held Maseo, allowing him a moment of vulnerability amid the war.
Maseo leaned into that strength, drawing courage from the embrace of someone who had seen his weakness and not turned away.
The pendant between them pulsed with warmth, responding to their closeness.
All he had ever wanted was somebody to hold him when he broke, who would offer shelter in the storm of his grief.
The knowledge that his mother had approved of Kitsuki and deemed him worth trusting made the comfort feel less dangerous to accept.
For a brief, selfish moment, Maseo wished they could remain suspended in time away from the horror of battle.
Kitsuki’s heartbeat was steady beneath his ear, a rhythm that helped quiet the chaos in his mind.
The king’s hand stroked his hair, and Maseo savored the rare pleasure of having someone touch him with care instead of cruelty.
But reality intruded as lichen appeared between the trees on the edge of the clearing, their green souls a gross contrast to the pure blue of his mother’s. They advanced, ancient weapons raised.
Kitsuki’s grip tightened around Maseo, his other hand rising to gesture toward the approaching undead. Silver flames erupted from his palm, forming a protective barrier between them and the threat.
“Take the time you need,” Kitsuki said in a low rumble. “I can hold them back.”
Maseo looked at the powerful and kind man willing to protect him even amid his own exhaustion.
He could see the toll the battle had taken on Kitsuki in the way his shoulders carried the weight of command and the shadows of fatigue beneath his eyes.
Maseo hadn’t forgotten the terror he experienced when he saw Kitsuki falling in the sky in his person form after defeating the soulvores.
Yet, he cared enough to create a moment of peace during the chaos of war, understanding what Maseo had lost.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Maseo wiped the tears from his face.
He would honor his mother not by weeping, but by fighting to survive and find the happiness she had wished for him.
“I’m ready,” he said, drawing his sword with renewed purpose.
The blade caught the light of Kitsuki’s silver flames, seeming to absorb some of their brilliance.
“Let’s make my father regret his foolish actions. ”
Kitsuki studied him for a moment, one hand still resting on Maseo’s shoulder as he searched for signs of hesitation or doubt. Finding none, he nodded and lowered the wall of flames, his protective touch lingering until the last possible moment.
The lichen surged forward, their bones clicking and scraping as they advanced. Maseo met them with a cry that carried all his grief and rage, his sword severing the souls with unerring precision.
Maseo and Kitsuki moved together with surprising synchronicity, as if they had always fought side by side.
Where Maseo faltered, the dragon king covered him.
When his magic flagged, Maseo stepped in with steel and skill.
It was a dance of protection and trust, each guarding the other’s vulnerabilities.
As bone dust dispersed with each lichen they defeated, Maseo felt his resolve crystallize into something unbreakable.
His mother’s words echoed in his mind, not as prophecy but as promise.
There was happiness waiting for him beyond the war, a future worth fighting for.
He only needed to be brave enough to fight for it.
His father had sought to break him by desecrating his beloved mother.
Instead, he had given Maseo the greatest gift of a chance to feel her love again and to carry her blessing forward into whatever future awaited him.
It was a reminder that even with her in the Beyond Realm, Maseo was never alone in the world.
With each swing of his sword and every soul severed and returned to peace, Maseo made a silent vow to survive the war in triumph.
He would claim the happiness his mother had foreseen and build a life worthy of her sacrifice and love.
When he faced his father, he would do so not as the broken boy Nasume had tried to create, but as the man she believed he could become.
That thought burned in his heart as bright as an inextinguishable flame, illuminating the path forward through darkness and death toward a dawn he had never dared to imagine.