him the same.
I knew it was crazy, all I said, but I also knew I was me. And I’d only been me for months.
And he’d fallen in love with me.
But he needed to believe in me in the good times and bad.
Like I did with him. Sometimes it was a struggle. But I fucking did it.
And he didn’t.
And I’d had enough. Hell, I’d had more than enough.
I was done.
“Circe, look at me,” he ordered.
I stared at the rain and I did this for a long time before he spoke again.
“It will be reported to me if you do not care for yourself and the creature you carry.”
The creature I carry.
Nice.
When he received no response, he continued, “And Circe, if this is the case, they will have orders to make certain you care for yourself and what is in your womb.”
“I will not… ever,” I whispered fiercely to the rain, “do anything to harm my child.”
Lahn fell silent.
I kept my eyes on the soft rain as corresponding tears slid down my cheeks.
Then his voice came at me again, this time it was softer, nearly sweet, almost, but not quite, my Lahn.
“Circe –”
I cut him off, my voice flat, dead and nothing like anything he’d ever heard from me.
“Good-bye, Lahn.”
I heard nothing for some time before I heard the pound of fist on door, the bolt slide, the door open, then it closed and the bolt was thrown home to lock me in.
I closed my eyes and fresh tears surged down my cheeks.
Then I waited and when I felt that his energy had indeed left the room, I looked to it.
I was alone.
I tore off my crown of feathers, ripped it in half, ripped it in quarters, ripped it until it was nothing but shreds.
I threw its remains away from me and sank to my ass on the tiled floor, knees to chest, face to knees, my arms tight around my calves and my sobs pierced the room as the rain outside no longer came softly but hit the city in unrelenting sheets.
And I rocked back and forth, whispering brokenly to my thighs, “Take me home, take me home, take me home, I need to go home. Please, please, whatever magic is out there for me, let it be at my command to take me home.”
I did not go home.
No, I fell asleep curled on the tile, exhausted from my tears, the rain still pounding down, unremitting, outside.
Then it stopped and when it did, it did this abruptly.
* * * * *
The rain stopped so abruptly, Dax Lahn heard it.
All night, listening to his queen’s sorrow driving its wet into the city, feeling that wet as if it was pounding against his skin causing emotions he didn’t understand to war in his gut, emotions he would not know until later were doubt and guilt, not sleeping or having slept, he shot from his bed, tore down the hall and ignored Bohtan and Feetak who were standing outside Circe’s bolted door.
He threw back the bolt, threw open the door and saw the room empty.
After searching, every room was empty, not just the rooms he shared with his wife but throughout their home.
Nothing was left of her except his queen’s tattered feathers lying on the tiled floor.
The iron crosses outside the windows were in place, they had not been tampered with and Lahn knew even his small Circe could not force herself through the space that a small child could not get through.
And even if she could, the house butted the side of the plateau, there was nothing to catch her should she jump and the fall was so deep, it would kill her.
Even so, Dax Lahn ordered warriors to search the bottom of the plateau.
They returned with no sightings of Circe, dead or alive, not even a footprint should her magic have saved her so she could run away.
His wife was gone.
I gave up my world for you.
As this news processed through his system, Dax Lahn, the commander of Suh Tunak, the King of all Korwahk threw back his head and roared.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Home
I heard my name being called and, weirdly, it sounded like me who was calling it.
My eyes fluttered open and I looked into a mirror.
“You are fine, my sweet twin,” my reflection which appeared to be leaning over me in a bed said to me and I felt my hand squeezed tightly. “Do not be alarmed at the fatigue. The magic takes it all out of you. It will be a few days. We will care for you. Rest, my sweet.”
My eyelids drifted closed because I was right with what I told me, I was fatigued, so freaking tired, it was unbelievable. I’d never felt that fucking tired in all my life.
But I forced them back open and saw me still leaned into me.
I smiled at myself but it wasn’t me smiling.
Then I whispered (but it wasn’t my whispering), “You are safe, sweet Circe, you are home.”
Then my eyes drifted back to closed.
And those actually were mine.
* * * * *
“She will be like this for a day, Harold, maybe two.”
I tried to force my eyes open as words in my voice but not said by my lips were whispered close.
Harold.
My Pop.
“She’s okay?”
Oh God. Yes. My Pop!
I tried to open my eyes and turn toward his voice, a voice I never thought I’d hear again, but I just could not fight off the sleep.
“She is…” a hesitation, “fine.”
“Circe, darlin’, if you haven’t got that you can’t hold back with me…” Pop’s warning trailed off and I heard a sigh.
“I’m sorry, my beloved father, they are weak but my senses tell me she’s with child.”
I heard my father suck in a hard, rough breath.
Then I was out.
* * * * *
“Are you with me, my love?”
My eyes slowly opened and I saw my bed and then, beyond that, my bedroom.
In Seattle.
Holy crap!
I turned to my back and looked to the side of the bed. Sitting in one of my dining room table chairs was
