Heart's Price (MxM)

Chapter 65

The journey to the standing stones passes in silence.

Dane drives with one hand on the wheel, the other entwined with Julian's. His shoulders and jaw are set in rigid lines, and he carries the grimly determined air of a soldier heading into battle against overwhelming odds, braced for the expectation of pain.

I sit in the back between Freya and Ambrose. Freya chats absently to herself—a habit that surfaces whenever she's anxious or stressed—voicing her thoughts about everything from the events of the night, to whether Dane and Julian will need a bigger house, to how, exactly, certain unusual aspects of Fae pregnancy work.

When she starts to speculate on things I'd rather not think about, I reach over and touch her shoulder. She gives me an apologetic wince and goes as quiet as the rest of us.

My attention is mostly on Ambrose, who hasn't said much since Shanti appeared and reassured us that the rakshasas had departed, freed from Aengus' hold. She had chosen not to accompany us, saying she would instead return to the Naga realm, and inform her father of what had passed in ours. After a brief farewell and a promise that we would meet again soon, she had disappeared once more in the direction of the lake.

Meanwhile, my concern for my mate has steadily increased. Now dressed in a spare set of clothes Dane keeps in his car, his skin has a gray, ashy hue, and the veins in his hands and face pulse with dim fire in time with the slow beat of his heart. There's still a strong heat coming off him, though it seems more the heat of fever than of fire, and he appears exhausted to the point that breathing takes almost more strength than he has.

Every time I've asked if he's all right, though, he reassures me with a tired smile and a light press of his hand.

Dane's vehicle is better suited for rough dirt roads than mine, and he's able to park a little closer to the stones than I had when I'd brought Julian here the first time. The light of the full moon, now beginning its descent into the west, is bright enough for even human eyes to see by, and we take our time crossing the rough ground of the open meadow.

The grassy plain looks flat from a distance, but rises steadily on a gentle slope to where the tumble of white boulders lie in a natural circle beneath the stars upon the open land. As we walk, Ambrose keeps an arm around me, leaning on me for support, and pauses several times to catch his breath.

A short time later, we arrive at the natural monument, and stand in a loose line at the edge of the circular depression of land in which it rests. There's an air of sacred solemnity about the place, as of a temple or church, as well as the more ancient mystery of deep magic that permeates the earth. It's a thin place—a place to slip between worlds.

"What now?" Freya asks. "Don't we have to do a ritual or something, to call the Fae?"

"No," Dane answers. "Julian can open the doorway himself, but I have a feeling he won't need to."

He nods towards the arched stones that have served as a doorway between realms before, and we watch as the air there shimmers and ripples like a thin veil of water flowing over glass. From it, two figures emerge. One I recognize as Eirnín, Julian's Fae great-grandmother, while the other is the female warrior with the silver-tipped spear who had intercepted me in the forest when I'd tried to follow Julian there.

"Son of my daughter's son," Eirnín says, holding her hands towards him, "we have been expecting you."

She's dressed in intricately embroidered robes of silver and green, and wears her long, dark hair in a loose, elaborate braid. The other Fae wears a sort of armor made of leaf-shaped scales.

Julian nods and steps forward to greet them, taking Eirnín's hands in his. "I am ready, now," he says.

"Julian, wait. Please—" Dane's expression is desperate and torn as he catches Julian's arm. "It's not too late. We don't—you don't have to do this. It's true I want children, but there are other ways. We can use a surrogate, or adopt, or—"