Page 10 of Zepharali: Lord of the East Winds (Lords of the Wind Book 3)

Lazaar

Present Day

As daylight turned to dusk, the descending suns transformed the forest into something dark and magical.

Lazaar didn’t know which he loved more. The feel of the sun’s heat scorching his core or the comfort of the shadows at twilight.

The village came alive during the night—a magical wonderland illuminated with fairy lights and the soft glow of low-hanging lanterns.

He noticed all activity and the presence of people had ceased since he’d arrived.

But aromas of stews and pastries and unknown baked goods still wafted through open windows and chimneys, making Lazaar’s stomach rumble.

However, nothing had made him salivate as much as the titan—his beloved—who’d somehow sensed him when no one else had.

Lazaar reclined against the base of a smooth tree trunk while he thought of all Oleksandr had taught him about the Titan of Summer.

Zepharali had lived well over two thousand years, twice as long as him, so he had a lot of details to ponder.

“Will you please leave those darn kinkalopes alone, lord?” Oleksandr sighed while he paced back and forth.

“They’re so funny, and I’m dying of boredom up here.” Lazaar scratched between the creature’s floppy ears as it skittered over his thighs, nipping at his dirty linen pants with dull teeth. “They remind me of an animal we had in Chessuven.”

Lazaar cocked his head to the side. “It should be called a rabbuppy since it looks like a bunny rabbit with a tiny puppy dog face.”

Oleksandr clenched his teeth, shoving his hand through his short, graying hair. “I don’t care, Prince.”

Lazaar continued to flinch at that title. He didn’t believe he’d ever feel like royalty.

“What is it you want from me, Olek?”

“I want you to realize—”

Myst emerged from the sky in a burst of steam, still in her camouflage, and released the large-mouth fish from her talons.

Lazaar rubbed his growling stomach, although he was tired of eating what Myst snatched from the various rivers.

This catch had yellow and black stripes with flimsy wings that didn’t appear to work out of the water. It flopped around for a few seconds before it went limp.

“Sorry, fella, but I gotta eat.” Lazaar used his palms to heat a flattop stone, then tossed his dinner on top. “Thank you, gods, for supplying us with another meal and bless those without.”

At least his guardian allowed him to finish his supper in peace before he knelt in front of him, demanding his full attention. Lazaar knew what they needed to discuss. He just didn’t want to.

“Are you full and satisfied now?”

“Mm-hmm.” Lazaar nodded, wiping his mouth with a large leaf.

“What about your other hunger? How’s that?”

“Thank the gods, it’s now manageable. I’m not folded over in pain anymore.”

Oleksandr exhaled loudly. “It’s because Zepharali is no longer in this world, but he will return at any moment, lord.”

Lazaar shrugged, tired of stressing over this.

“He left to seek out the assistance of his brother in arms, Boraleashe Cavalerie, the Titan of Winter and Lord of the Arctic World.” Oleksandr stood and began pacing again. “But that’s not my biggest concern…”

Lazaar was frustrated. “Then what is?”

“Boraleashe is known for his heart of ice. He commands and fights with little compassion, if any. Surely, he’ll come with his frost, and there will be no amount of heat inside you before you ascend to your full tribrid powers that can defend against it.”

“If you wish to fret, then go ahead, but I’m confident Myst will protect me. She always has.”

“Did you hear me, lord? No amount of heat—not even a phoenix—can withstand the temperatures Lord Boraleashe can create.”

That got his attention.

“Then I’ve decided to return to the Earth Realm, to Chessuven, where I belong.”

Oleksandr pinched the bridge of his sharp nose. “My dear lord, I’ve listened to each of your suggestions, and as I’ve already stated, not one of them is feasible.”

“Chessuven is gone—the Mother collapsed it. I told you, your people were all sent from the same realm as me as your protectors.” Oleksandr appeared saddened. “Just know that they’re all safe and back in the realm where they belong. And they’re happy, being celebrated, and receiving glory for aiding in your miraculous escape.”

“That’s a relief.” He sighed. “Then I will go back to the—”

“No, no, no. You can’t go to the Vampire King nor to his Lord High, Belleron, for their help to control your vampire. Mother Earth will not rebuild Chessuven or allow you back because your mother will only sense you and attack again.”

“But, Olek, what about my mother? She must feel something for me besides hatred if—”

“Your mother will never listen to reason. She wants your tribrid powers and nothing more. It’s the only reason she gave birth to you.”

“But—”

“And before you go on, I already told you it’s too dangerous to allow you into your fathers’ worlds. It’s why they risked everything to plead to the angels for protection and sent you to Earth.” His guardian shook his head sadly. “It broke their hearts to send you away.”

“All right then.” Lazaar frowned. “I’ll ask—”

Oleksandr threw his hands up. “And by the gods, no to that too. I will not allow Wrath to end your life. Lazaar, you are too kind and beautiful to even think that.”

“I’m tired, Ollie. Tired of living like a frightened child.”

Oleksandr knelt on one knee. “Then let’s show them who you are and what you’re going to be. Show them your unparalleled powers will be used for good and never evil.” His guardian gripped his shoulders. “You must embrace your vampire and allow it to accept its beloved’s heart. It’s the only way.”

“Maybe I would’ve accepted it long ago if you and the other masters of destiny would’ve been honest from the start.”

The thought of feasting on the blood of a human, even a titan, was the most unappealing act he’d ever heard of, and so was bonding.

If Lazaar had been allowed to choose a life partner, it wouldn’t be one so experienced.

The Lord of Summer already had a number of admirers, bedwarmers, and hundreds of daughters. He didn’t need him.

“Olek, the last thing a virile titan like Zepharali wants is a partner who’s lived a pitifully sheltered life, who knows the science of intercourse but has never engaged in it.”

His guardian stared across the vast land toward Zepharali’s castle.

“Yes, the titan has had many lovers.” Oleksandr gazed back at him with the fondness of a proud parent. “But not one has earned his truest heart. Why do you think that is?”

“He’s either too selective or unwilling to commit.”

“No, Prince. Zepharali’s wind brings forth passion and the blossom of new love.”

“Of course it does.” He rolled his eyes.

“I believe it’s because he’s reserving it for someone deserving of its magnificence. Someone rare and precious.”

Oleksandr walked back to him and pulled Lazaar to his feet. “Stand and hold your head high, my prince. Because there is no one in all the worlds or realms more precious than the firstborn tribrid.”

Lazaar had no further words or energy to combat that reasoning.

“Please trust me as your guardian and believe I have a solid plan.”

He allowed Oleksandr to lay him on the lush grass and urge him to rest.

The gently flowing water in the valley at the base of the mountain murmured a gentle melody that made Lazaar drift into a peaceful slumber.