Silence replaced the overwhelming chaos of the past minutes. It was as if no one wanted to break the silence and force us to talk about what had happened. The tension eventuallybroke with a collective relief so deep it washed through our mental link. We'd done it. A new, stronger ward protected the world. Blackstone was gone. The threat was over.
I turned and pulled Cinaed into my arms. The solid warmth of him against my chest was the most real thing I'd felt in hours. Through our bond, I sensed his relief, his pride, his love—all mirroring my own emotions so perfectly it was hard to tell where mine ended and his began.
Of all the accomplishments of the day, this was the most poignant. The barriers to our bond were gone. A beautiful and lasting love had replaced the loneliness. And the memory of Ailpein’s sacrifice would be part of us forever. He’d made it possible.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Cinaed:
The medicine wheel was gone. Erased from the soil like a surgeon removes a malignant growth. The dirt beneath my feet felt cleaner and almost relieved. A gentle breeze brought the scent of prairie grass, open sky, and renewal.
The irony of Blackstone’s downfall, dragged into the fiery depths by a demon prince he’d tried to control, wasn’t lost on me. He’d manipulated my grandfather for decades. Now he faced an eternity of something much worse.
A small remnant of Grandfather’s power hummed inside me. It wasn’t the energy he’d gifted me to create the new Ward. I had spent almost all of that fighting Blackstone. He gave me a part of himself I could only understand because I had a deep connection with the Earth. Not only did I have a mate, but I was also a guardian.
They were memories, emotions, and connections. The complex tangle threatened to overwhelm me. His pride and love as I flew for the first time. Others called him back, but he told them he was doing something more important. The moment hefirst struggled with a dark influence creeping into his thoughts. At the end, there was so much regret that he hadn’t been stronger. Underneath it all, he still loved us all, a truth he proved with his sacrifice.
Rod’s steady presence filled me, preventing me from losing myself in these emotions. He tied me to him, and to our newly completed bond.
“You’re thinking about him,” Rod said.
I nodded, not able to put my emotions into words.
Around us, the others were gathering in small groups, voices low and weary. Bart and Cael stood near the northern edge, holding hands like they were out for a walk on a normal day. Across from them, Jan and Conall hugged in front of a tired-looking Anso and Leifr. Leo leaned into Gund, whose eyes still held some of his dragon rage. To the south, Otto and Thal checked on Percy and Gio, who still showed the effects of Blackstone’s attack.
“He loved you.” Rod squeezed my hand. “At the end, it was that love that sustained him.”
Rod’s emotions wrapped around mine, comforting without trying to diminish the pain. “I know. He left me everything.” I tapped my head. “His love for me. His regret for what happened. His pride I never gave up. His hope for our future. And relief that he could finally make things right.”
With each word I spoke, Grandfather’s emotions swirled around me. This was a wound that no amount of phoenix magic or regeneration could heal. Rod never broke our connection. He relived each feeling with me, traveling the complicated path of love, anger, resentment, and sorrow. He didn’t offer words because none were more powerful than his presence.
“Cinaed.” Father appeared beside me.
His perfect composure had cracked with exhaustion and loss. This wasn’t King Malachy, this was Malachy the grieving son, and the relieved parent.
“Father.” I freed my hand and gave him a fierce hug. We clung to each other, joined by grief and joy. He’d lost a father to save his son. Now he clung to the only thing that eased his pain.
When we separated, tears ran down both our cheeks. “He was himself again at the end,” I said. “The grandfather I remembered from childhood. The father you respected.”
“Yes.” Father’s smile was watery but genuine. “That’s how I’ll remember him. The phoenix who kept the entire court waiting so he could teach you to fly. Who called you his little firebird.”
The grief hit me, sudden and overwhelming. All the years we’d lost. All the arguments and stony silences. The pain I’d carried, thinking he hated me, but not fully understanding why. His intractable refusal to let me be happy. I resented him even as I kept up hope he’d change his mind. It was never him.
Rod’s presence surrounded me. He didn’t take away my sorrow. He helped me shoulder it, sort through it, and reminded me of the good.
“I wish we’d had more time,” I said through my tears.
“As do I,” Father said, fighting his own emotions. “I want to apologize and tell him we know it wasn’t him. I think he knew when he made his choice. He gave you… us his love. That’s what we’ll always have. We’ll know that even when we couldn’t see it, the love was always there.”
Father was right, and thanks to Grandfather, I knew it with absolute certainty.
“I need to speak to Wilhelm and the others,” Father said. “A lot has changed that needs to be addressed.”
He left, and around us the other survivors moved in weary patterns, taking stock of injuries, checking on friends and family. Blackstone stole from so many. Caused so much paineven in those who followed him. It would take time for the world to heal, but it would.
A flash of purple caught my eye. Bart and Cael approached, their shoulders touching in the unconscious way of bonded pairs. They still had their stones out, but they were relaxed. Bart’s face held a mixture of relief and caution. He was right to be wary. We’d survived, but no one believed we’d found all of Blackstone’s surprises.
“How are you two doing?” Bart’s gaze swept over me but fixed on his brother.
