Page 23 of The Witch’s Fate (The Lunaterra Chronicles #13)

RYKER

I didn’t doubt that Idalis was my mate. It’s not the kind of knowledge that can be doubted. Not the kind of feeling that can be second-guessed for long. It’s far above the level of thought.

But if I had doubted, all of those doubts would have disappeared as she came for me, over and over again, and with me, staring into my eyes as if she had never seen anything more intriguing or precious.

When I finally come inside her one final time and find myself dragged down to the depths of a peaceful sleep, I have the feeling the night will last forever.

It’s as if the moon has stopped time for us, and I don’t need to worry about the sunrise, or the following days, or my place in the army waiting for me even now.

I don’t have to worry about anything.

I’m no longer cursed, and I’m no longer alone. For the first time, I close my eyes in a perfect world. Idalis lies next to me, her heart beating fast but settling slowly as sleep takes her under as well.

I would linger in this night forever if fate would let us.

Instead I sleep, deep and dreamless, somehow aware of her next to me. My wolf reaching out for her every so often to be sure my mate is safe and sound.

She is. She will always be safe beside me. Time has made me a great warrior and perhaps that’s what I needed to be so I could live up to be fated to the powerful witch.

I’ve a few shallow dreams that are mostly fragments. Sounds and scents. Memories of Idalis in the candlelight above me and under me, the tiny flames reflecting in her gorgeous eyes.

The world has not been stopped by the moon after all. The night moves slowly through its remaining hours. I don’t care about the world outside the cottage, but my wolf has an understanding that is rooted deeper into the ground, and he keeps watch, as he always has.

I wake slowly wishing a new day would hold off. The gods could not stop the new day from coming, but it is waking up slowly as well. The sunlight that caresses Idalis’s windows is gentle. It is early yet.

Idalis sleeps deeply in my arms, her breathing slow and steady. There is no worry in her. No tensions. She’s let all her weight fall onto me in the night.

For a while, I simply lie there, savoring the moment. My mate. My beautiful and powerful mate. How have I gotten so lucky?

Many men have trusted me with their lives during my time in the army. I’ve taken that trust as the sacred bond that it was. I didn’t think I would experience a bond more sacred. I would have sworn there would never be one.

Yet, here we are and here it is.

I watch the light grow bit by bit. No one comes to drag me from the bed. There are no sounds of the army preparing for the day around me. Nothing compels me to ease Idalis out of my arms and leave her behind.

Not yet.

I savor that, too. There were no shouts to rouse me from my sleep. There were no war horns or drums. Idalis asleep in my arms is the greatest peace I have ever known.

No more prophecy. No more curse. They are both broken, both dissolving into the past like they never existed. From this day forward, I am free of that sorrow. Although now another persists. I must leave her. After the royal wedding, we return to the battlefield. War does not wait for love.

I don’t allow myself to think that another sorrow will come to replace it. For now, there’s no such thing.

Eventually, a soft sound gets my attention. At first it is like the chirping of an insect outside the cottage, but the more I listen for it, the more familiar it becomes.

One of my crystals.

Idalis doesn’t stir from the sound. Carefully, I move her gently to the pillows and cover her with the blankets. She turns over with a sigh and continues sleeping, nestled into the warmth of the bed.

I find a pair of pants and a shirt, then go to my pack and draw out the crystals. The morning sun is brighter when I leave the cottage and find Idalis’s small outdoor table.

I’m sure it is Jorge who is trying to summon me. Adrenaline rushes in my blood at the thought. My mouth goes dry with nervousness.

When the call connects, I’m proven right.

“Ryker,” my commander says. “Can you hear me? It seems the storm has passed.”

There’s a note of optimism in his voice that makes my heart ache. Jorge is the person who is most like my brothers. I’d protect him as if he were a member of my pack, and he would protect me just the same. We’ve seen horrors together. Survived together and conquered together.

“I can hear you,” I answer him. The morning breeze ruffles my hair.

It is already warm. The storm has passed.

The day will be a lovely one. It reassures me that Idalis won’t hear this conversation even if she wakes.

A twinge of nervousness prickles through me at that idea, and another at the idea that Jorge might give me news that shatters the peace I’ve only just found.

“I’ve received word that the portals across Athica are working again.” Jorge doesn’t smile as he says this. His expression remains serious, though not frustrated, and I ache again at how familiar he is to me. “Have you tested them yourself?”

“Not yet,” I answer. “I’ve only just woken.” His brow arches at that information. “I’ve news as well.” My pulse quickens as I shift where I sit. Unsure of how he will take the news.

“What news?” Jorge questions, his brow slightly raised.

I answer him as quickly as the words will leave me. “I’ve found my mate.”

With wide eyes, he stares back incredulously. He blinks several times. “Shifters? In the witch’s territory?”

“No.” My throat goes tight at the admission I’m about to make.

“The witch herself. Idalis is my mate.” A longing possesses me that I didn’t know I’d feel.

His acceptance means more to me than I anticipated.

His happiness for my union. It’s as if the guilt of all of the years of jealousy and denial weigh down in this moment, finding my mating undeserving.

As if it’s a lie. As if it cannot be because she is not wolf.

Stunned, Jorge takes a moment to correct his expression. He’s silent for a moment and I half expect for his image to fade from the crystal, and for the connection to have broken. Perhaps broken purposefully.

Finally, Jorge shakes his head as if composing his thoughts. He clears his throat before straightening his shoulders to speak.

“You have fought for decades beside me,” he says, his voice rough.

“I know.” The years go by in my memory as a collection of colors and marches and battles. Of blood on claws and Jorge’s face dirty from the fight and his hand clasping my shoulder. “Commander, I?—”

He interrupts me with a stern tone. “You’ve been by my side while other men have come and gone. When their families needed them. When their lives changed.”

“I have,” I agree and nod.

“I grant you leave,” Jorge says, and I’m stunned at how easily it rolls off his tongue. With a pull to his lips and a softness to his eyes, he speaks with compassion and understanding.

My throat goes tight. I hadn’t even thought to request it.

“You will spend as much time with your mate as you need. You have both served and seen more than your share of what war brings.”

“If the war changes, and if you need me, I will return. I will fight beside you. I made an oath, and I will keep it.”

Jorge smiles, and it is the smile he has given other men—a smile of genuine congratulations. There is no jealousy in it, and no sense that he thinks I am abandoning my duties. It is simple happiness from a friend, and I return it to him. Grateful more than anything.

“I have received your message,” Jorge says. “I’ll file the paperwork, Ryker. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

“You will attend the wedding still?” he questions with uncertainty. “Perhaps there is a way she could aid us with you beside her… I’d like to meet her, if you could convince her to attend.”