Disclaimer: I do not own the Tairen Soul Series by C.L. Wilson. However, I do own Angela, OC and non-canon fictional magic.
A/N: my apologies for the long wait. Reviews do speed the creative process. Enjoy! And please let me know if there are any GSP errors or story flow confusion. I want to make my storylines the best they can be.
Ch. XII: Tajik
Angela swayed and Cyr quickly caught her. She smiled wanly as Marissya healed her hands.
For some reason, her dark presence fumed at Bel's Spirit fey'cha. Rain reached Angela's mind and she shuddered while Cyr snarled at his king.
"Las," Ellysetta commanded as both she'dahlins wove peace on the males.
"Angela's tairen doesn't like Spirit in large doses." Ellysetta explained, relieved to find the source of Angela's apparent distress regarding her earlier healing touch as a Spirit Master and Tairen Soul.
"T―tairen?" Angela asked tiredly as Cyr started.
"That's what I've been sensing?" He asked simultaneously. Angela choked and gaped at him.
Cyr gave her an apologetic smile. "I chose not to say anything, siesk'ta." Cyr told her. "Because I figured it was the bond and…all your experiences since we've met―particularly today."
The young woman did not know what to think.
"Mioralas," Bel said surprising everyone with a rare smile. "You're quite the miracle, kem'falla." He turned to his sovereigns. "Another tairen from the same family." He approved.
"We will discuss more in due time." Ellysetta said decisively. "For now Angela's health comes first."
"And we will respect your wishes, kem'mareska." Rain added as everyone rose to take their leave.
Marissya wove her healing strands about them. "I'll stop by later tomorrow to check on Angela and arrange food to be left outside your door."
"Beylah vos." Cyr said respectfully to on their behalf as Angela silently acknowledged the Fey's departure and Cyr sealed their suite.
Cyr turned and noticed Angela's worried gaze.
"Ajiana?" He asked concerned.
"So to be sure I understood everything." Angela said, as she leaned back in her chair and motioned for her shei'tan to join her. "I am half-Fey, a Fey citizen…and my biological father is a big shot in the Feyan armies as 'the Fire Master,' and my mother wished I'd never been born." She rolled her eyes. "And above all I'm a cat-dragon beast to boot."
Cyr had the inappropriate urge to laugh.
"A tairen is the symbol of the Fey, shei'tani." He said instead. Angela rubbed her temples.
"My world already crashed once and I barely survived then," Angela muttered. "How 'm I s'posed to survive this one?"
Cyr took her hand.
"You're not alone this time, Angela." Cyr said softly. His amber eyes showing worry and determination matching his words.
The young woman gulped. "I…don't want to be called Angela…Felicity Michaelson anymore…I guess I'm Angela Felicity vel Sib…Sibboreh?"
"Angela Felicity vol Sibboreh," Cyr corrected. "'vol,' is for unbonded fellanas or Fey women. 'Vel,' is for unbonded males or Fey or Fey Lords and 'v'En,' is for bonded mates." Cyr paused. "Unless you're in an e'tanista bond then you'd be 'vel'En,' like the Feyreisen."
She slowly nodded. "I just feel like Vandar Michaelson is more than dead to me and this Tajik…I don't know if I really want to see him." Angela ducked her head into her shoulder avoiding Cyr's knowing eyes.
She could not deal with the rejection.
Cyr lightly lifted her chin. "Whatever you decide shei'tani, I'll support." He gently declared. Angela smiled at him. She raised herself slightly and nuzzled Cyr's face, 'kissing' him in her fashion.
It's I who don't deserve you and as soon as I can I will ask Lady Marissya on how to be a worthy shei'tani.
Cyr approached Angela slowly. His lips pressed together and Angela could not help being fixated.
Angela closed her eyes for a moment and she could feel Cyr move closer. Her eyelids felt heavy and Angela forced them open at half-mast.
Cyr's eyes glowed almost antique gold as he nuzzled her cheek.
Angela smiled. I want to do something good for you…but what?
Then it occurred to her.
Slowly, Angela opened her senses and Cyr grinned once she reached him.
He hungered for his mate.
Curious, Angela brushed against an ever-moving cyclone. She realized was Cyr's soul.
It had some darkness to it which Angela acknowledged but did not demean. Instead, Angela felt her tairen push and touch.
An emotional burst rushed Angela.
"Shei'tani!" Cyr cried feeling and sharing a measure of hope, hunger, awe and possessiveness.
Gasping, Angela felt her own response mirror his.
In his mind's eye he could see Angela's tairen.
She is a third the size of the Feyreisen with copper-and-wine pelt. Her body is speared and shackled by sel'dor piercings and weapons.
Her swirling platinum eyes reflected a savage self-protection which relented at seeing him. She tried to move toward him and winced her heavy chest wounds permeated her.
«Do you see me?» Her tairen asked. Her sweet voice strained and reserved.
«Aiyah.» Cyr answered promptly and protectively. «What happened to you?» He demanded. It dawned on him that she did not have wings.
She had stumps where great wings should be.
Angela's tairen grimaced. «Attacked by those priests and two others. I was too young to understand or protect us fully at the time.» She tried to reach Cyr and finally laid down.
Suddenly, Cyr found himself in front of a breathless Angela.
"Ajiana," Cyr ground out as he pulled back to allow Angela to breathe.
"I―it's fine," Angela managed as she blinked in confusion, while rubbing her chest.
"What exactly happened?" She asked. Angela could not bear to be separated from Cyr's touch for long as she followed his retreat.
"You touched my soul, kem'shei'tani." Cyr said, his eyes glowing. "And I saw your tairen."
Angela continue to stare at him blankly.
Cyr could not take it anymore. He tilted her head and lowered his lips to hers.
Angela gasped her hands clutched his shoulders tightly.
Cyr brushed her lips and caressed them.
The sensual and sweet feelings made Angela's soul yearn. Her body ached and her mind blanked.
«Open for me, kem'Angela.» Cyr murmured, his lips teasing her. «I will go slowly ajiana.»
Her heart stuttered in her chest as she decided she would trust Cyr with her one treasure. You've seen and touched soul. She thought. Give him something in return. This is your chance.
Hesitantly, Angela opened her mouth.
Cyr rejoiced.
As promised, Cyr moved very slowly across her lips, gently coaxing her to relax.
«So sweet, kem'Angela.» Cyr complimented. «Like wild honeysuckle.»
Angela's lips curled into a smile, pleased. Her emotions settled Cyr.
One hand caressed her hair as his other pulled her closer.
Angela opened her mouth farther and Cyr slowly deepened their kiss, smiling too.
She felt his pride and pleasure intermingle with male satisfaction and possession.
When he pulled from her Angela's breathlessness created a knowing gleam in his glowing, now antique, golden eyes.
Blushing, Angela reached for Cyr's lips with hers and then hesitated.
«What is it?» Cyr asked, careful not to rush her.
«You're my first kiss.» Angela admitted, embarrassed. «And I know I can't―.»
«Beylah vo.» Cyr interrupted. «For waiting for me.»
Angela pulled back enough to look him in the eye.
"You bring pride to this Fey." He said sincerely. "I will not laugh, ajiana."
Angela shook her head. "That's not it." She whispered. At his look she quickly added, "Well not all of it."
Cyr waited searching her features for some clue he thought he missed.
"I don't want to be compared." Angel finally confessed. "I can't truly compete with a fellana. They're graceful, controlled and I know you've…well, you're a good kisser Cyr." Angela blushed to her roots but held his gaze with a curious mix of defiance and trepidation.
Cyr supposed he could not be too offended. After all, he is experienced.
"I won't and have not compared you to any fellana, Angela." He said steadily, before shrugging. "As for being inexperienced," He watched Angela blush and look down. "we could always practice."
She looked up and giggled at Cyr's wriggling brows. Grinning, Cyr liked seeing Angela's dimples again. She pulled Cyr closer and pressed her lips once more against his.
Delighted, the young Fey caressed her back and her thick, dark red curls.
It made Cyr recall her tairen's coloring and he dismissed his thoughts as Angela began to explore. Somewhat emboldened, she lightly bit Cyr's bottom lip. He growled.
She pulled back and gulped nervously and confused. "Was that OK, I did that?" She asked.
Amused, Cyr smirked. "Aiyah…but I think you should wait to try that again…since I feel hungrier for my mate when you do."
Angela giggled. "Message received." She eyed him with curious interest.
He quirked a brow and she reached for him again. This time using her hands on either side of his face and slowly grinned. He returned it with watchful, glowing eyes.
Standing, Angela left a surprised Cyr who intuitively reached for her. Angela smiled coyly at him and sashayed around his advances.
Cyr watched with growing interest.
Definitely not my skittish doe today. He mused.
Angela walked to the vanity, highly aware of Cyr's gaze watching her every move. She grabbed the brush and walked behind him.
"Go in the middle," she said, her breath catching.
Grinning, Cyr obeyed.
Angela knelt behind him and began to undo his partial pony and brush his hair from the bottom up.
Cyr closed his eyes.
Angela methodically brushed his long, straight dirty blond hair with gentle hands. Cyr practically purred from her touch.
Finishing, Angela was about to put the brush away when Cyr leaned back and turned his head to kiss her.
Surprised, she opened up as he tasted and explored her mouth.
Angela dropped the hairbrush and it rolled to floor unnoticed by the matepair.
Cyr repositioned her kneeling form in front of him while quickly Air weaving a blanket over his lap for her modesty.
He brought her hands to cup her breasts with his on top.
Gasping, Angela's mouth widened making that mewling sound he liked and he deepened their kiss.
«One day, I will touch you like this.» Cyr traced her lips with his tongue and Angela moaned. Her hands reflexively tightening on her chest, doubling the sensation as his words echoed in her mind.
«I will memorize your beauty the way the gods intended.» Cyr pulled back to focus on her throat as his hands moved to support her back and he gently tugged her head using her hair to lavish attention on her throat while bringing her closer. He effectively trapped her hands against his chest.
Angela swallowed as her eyes barely registered the canopy above them. Her small gasps and whimpers delighting him.
«You'll say my name and claim me as yours alone.» His Spirit voice promised huskily, conveying his hope and desire more than he realized.
"K―ke―kem'Cyr?" She asked innocently as her desire quickened in her pulse.
"Kabai," Cyr growled. "for now." He pulled from her as she caught her breath. Her coral lips beckoning and her starry eyes mixed with her wild, tussled curls made Cyr grown.
For me alone. He thought with some satisfaction.
He bent his head forward. Angela's breath hitched in startled anticipation as Cyr's lips chastely kissed her hands; which remained cupping her breasts.
Cyr grinned at her. His expression all male and Angela could feel his brimming satisfaction. She swallowed hard. Cyr's handsome features lit up.
He slowly removed her hands from her chest as he carefully maneuvered her to lie down before standing.
The young Fey knew bright, grey eyes watched him go as he made his way to the bathing chamber.
After placing a privacy weave and wrapping a choice Air weave around his body he swore.
"Merciful gods!" he burst out laughing. "How am I going to survive this courtship with the most innocent vixen there is?"
Angela realized Cyr was not returning anytime soon and rose from their bed.
She made her way toward her trunk and rummaged until she found her rose-colored nightgown. She stared at her matching cheeks and wondered at the change in the young woman staring back at her from the vanity mirror.
Her piercing grey eyes held emotions Angela dared not examine too closely. Her wild curls were tussled and a blush deepened as she looked at her chest.
He wants to see me. Angela thought giddily. His hands…my hands…She gave herself a little shake as she changed behind a silk screen nearby. Angela laughed delightedly and twirled. Her nightgown spreading like a flower's petals at her legs.
The young woman did not sense her shei'tan open the door until she felt joy, contentment, gratitude and hope bombard her senses.
Cyr's rare smile made her pause in her twirling as she covered the short distance to him.
The intense antique amber gold faded and his eyes were soft, his expression boyish as he gathered in his arms and lifted her into the air. Angela giggled as he twirled her around the room. She raised her arms and Cyr slowly set her feet on the ground.
Cyr marveled at her bright expression. Angela raised her hand to Cyr's cheek and he closed his eyes, leaning into her touch.
Cyr reopened his eyes and looked at her with shy hopefulness.
"Kem'Cyr," She whispered. Realizing for the first time, she is seeing her shei'tan without his reserved armor.
His heart thudded as they stared at each other.
A small, unseen door opened between their souls.
Angela's breath caught in her throat. A song of sweetness, trust and hope echoed in her head and heart.
Cyr sniffed and pulled Angela's head against his heart. Tears trekked down his face. Angela heard his wild heartbeat against her ear so unlike his usual steadiness. She tried to move.
He would not let her.
Stilling, the young woman clutched his shoulders and felt at peace for the first time in her soul.
She intuitively waited in silence as Cyr gathered his armor and struggle to come to terms with their first bond thread. Angela's tears brimmed in her eyes. She had never felt something so beautiful in all her life. The closest she had was the birth of her younger brother.
The bond-madness abated and he knew he must release her soon.
Reluctantly, he did.
This time, Angela did not allow him to turn away or escape.
Ashamed at his tears, he raised his hand to wipe them away. Angela replaced his hand with hers and led him to their bed and tenderly began kissing his cheek.
"Shei'tani?" his voice cracked, further embarrassing him.
"Shh, shei'tan." She said gently. He gulped, feeling overwhelmed.
Unhurried, Angela kissed his tears away as Cyr bit his lip, sniffling.
She traced his cheeks, his eyebrow, and removed his frown before moving downward for his eyelids. She repeated her trailblazing on his other side.
Cyr gasped, feeling shaky and vulnerable as he clutched Angela's waist. Being careful not to bruise her despite his mounting fear.
The young woman lightly pushed Cyr to lie down and he hesitated following where she led as she continued her ministrations. Angela rolled onto her side and Cyr followed suit. She smiled tenderly at him, making Cyr's eyes blur.
She wrapped her arms around his head and guided him to her chest.
"Kem'Cyr," she sweetly proclaimed.
He closed his eyes as he felt her acceptance across their newly forged bond.
He snuggled into her soft pillow and closed their canopy drapes and scooted them toward the middle. He wrapped his legs around hers intent on never leaving.
For the first time, Cyr felt safe. He trembled in Angela's arms as she told him sweet nothings and repeated the few Feyan endearments she knew, reassuring the young Fey.
Cyr trembled in his sleep, concerning Angela.
She stroked his brow and slowly felt him snuggle and clutch her before Angela drifted to sleep.
Cyr awoke and took in his bearings in his mind flooded with last night's intimacies. He is pleased in Angela's willingness but he self-chastised feeling sick with embarrassment for crying.
He slowly rose from her embrace and kissed away her small frown. Cyr sent her a wave of reassurance. Angela rolled over in their bed and Cyr tucked her in.
He bathed, dressed and Spirited his parents.
«Cyr!» His mela exclaimed. «It's so good to hear from you, kem'nos.»
«Mela, gepa.» Cyr greeted, somewhat shakily. «I've so much to tell you.»
He regaled his parents of the past 24 bells concerning Angela's hostage situation, her parentage, her angst at being labeled a bastard in the Fading Lands prompting the Fey to inquire about a marriage contract.
«Our first bond thread came to be.» He Spirited in a hushed voice, scarcely fathoming it and daring not to say anything aloud. Tears burned his eyes, and he roughly swiped them.
«Oh kem'nos.» His gepa congratulated warmly. «We'll draft one and broker it with Lady Marissya and Lord Tajik.»
Cyr is selfish and man enough to admit he wished Angela's father could have waited until after their bond took place. He felt unusually insecure because he did not know the legendary hot-tempered Fey Lord.
The usual courtship gifts as a shei'tan to his prospective bond-father would not hold sway in court since he is a virtual stranger to Angela.
«Beylah vos.» He said relieved. He did not know the proper etiquette but he would learn and do right by his shei'tani.
He signed off and came to Angela's side, marveling at the miracle before him.
Tajik vel Sibboreh stared at his canvas tent wall blankly.
«Are you absolutely certain?» He asked his bond-nephew, Feyreisen Rainer vel'En Daris.
«Aiyah.» Rain affirmed. «Come quickly. We have much to discuss in person.»
Struggling for composure, Tajik quickly agreed and summoned his second-in-command informing him of his departure in a bell's time per a formal summons from the Feyreisen and Feyreisa.
I have a nessa. The flame-haired Fey's emotion threatened to burn his tent before he checked himself.
Angela turned and realized Cyr was at her side.
"What was that I heard in my head? In my heart?" She asked him warily.
Cyr kissed her brow.
"Tairen's Song," he answered gruffly. "the first thread of our bond, kem'Angela."
The young woman remained still, trying to gauge Cyr's mood.
Shifting into an upright position, the young woman reached for Cyr's hand.
"May we try it again?" Angela asked. "Soon?"
Cyr's eyes crinkled and swallowed as a burst of hope, happiness and humility sharper than before skittered across their bond. He kissed her hand.
«Aiyah, kem'shei'tani.» He Spirited thickly. «Ver reisa ku'chae. Kem surah, shei'tani.»
Angela smiled at him as a knock on the door startled them.
She quickly hid behind the curtains as Cyr went to investigate.
Shielding Angela from view, the young Fey accepted a small trunk and their de facto picnic basket from the Fey messenger. Resealing their defenses, Cyr approached their table with his curious shei'tani in tow.
Angela stared at the trunk in surprise as Cyr opened it for her, seeing the familiar crest stamped on it.
A beautiful rose gold-and-champagne gown was neatly folded inside the trunk. Her hands reverently pulled it from its confinement and shook it out.
"Oh, it's so beautiful!" The young woman gushed.
Cyr barely hid his smile.
Angela paused as the envelope fall to the ground and the young Fey warrior picked it up. Angela looked dismayed.
"What does it say?" She asked quietly.
Cyr carefully unsealed it and brought it close to Angela's line of vision.
"To my new kem'nessa," He dutifully read, staring at the familiar flowery script.
Angela frowned. "But why would Lady Marissya send us a trunk like that?"
"Nei, it's kem'mela." Cyr answered surprised.
"You―your mother?" Angela asked, bewildered.
"My name is Cyriane v'En Lesk. I am Cyr's mother and I would like to make your acquaintance at the upcoming ball," Cyr dutifully read.
Angela sputtered. "A―a ball?" She squeaked. "But I don't know how to dance like you do." She sighed dismayed. She had hoped to wear the emerald satin gown for such a grand affair to showcase her gratitude to Lady Marissya. Now she had another dress for the same ball? She nearly laughed at her idiocy. Honestly, she thought in askance. You'd've thought you went to balls all the time, you pacheeta. Don't be so ungrateful!
In fairness, Angela was worried about many things. A ball was just another monkey wrench in her horizon.
"Las ajiana, that's an easy fix." He said pressing a kiss to her temple before continuing.
"Lady Marissya has spoken highly of you and my shei'tan, Jaythen v'En Lesk, cannot wait to meet our lovely Angela." His mela signed it with the family crest in cyan blue wax.
Angela looked down at the dress. It had a rose gold sheen in the light over the pink rose pattern. Angela knew whomever embroidered it was no amateur seamstress. She turned the inside color out until she found the maker's mark.
"I've never seen this one before," she muttered with a concentrated frown. "and I know several marks―not just Celierian."
"That's my family's insignia." Cyr answered, gauging her expression.
Angela tilted her head curiously.
"I know some families have their own mark," Angela said. "but, I thought only insignias could be melded with the king's approval?"
Cyr inclined his head, and shrugged.
Angela swallowed and carefully wrapped her dress in her hands.
"Could you write to her for me?" Angela asked ashamed.
The Norban woman may come from humble beginnings but she would have been scoured alive by Felicity and beaten by Vandar to boot if she did not say a proper thank you.
"Aiyah shei'tani." Cyr said feeling Angela's shame as if it were his own. Blushing, Angela grabbed her navy dress and rushed toward the bathing chamber as Cyr wrote his mother that Angela indeed adored her new dress. She is beginning to learn to read and write and therefore could not thank her herself.
Additionally, Cyr enclosed his memory of Angela's delighted expression.
Her in her nightgown is for my eyes only. Cyr thought firmly.
Cyr opened their breakfast of warm bread, eggs and bacon on plates. A Fire weave to preserve it and a note from Lady Marissya had him furrow his brow. Angela wore her new dress, deciding to leave her navy one behind. She blushed at Cyr's smile and appraising look.
Definitely thanking mela. He decided momentarily distracted from the note. Although, she is missing something.
The rose gold-and-champagne dress clung to Angela's figure in the most flattering way. It had a modest neckline and loose, sheer champagne sleeves and an enticing chemise beneath.
"You look lovely ajiana." He said sincerely, pleasing Angela who sat beside him. She looked at the note in his hand expectantly.
"Lady Marissya informs us that…Lord Tajik is coming to see the Feyreisen and the Feyreisa this morning." He said carefully as Angela continued buttering her toast without pausing.
"Oh?" Angela asked. "Does that mean we're expected?" She bit into her biscuit.
"Aiyah," Cyr answered, deciding to follow her example. "and he is very anxious to meet you."
Angela's eyes narrowed as her tairen hissed.
I don't like it either, Angela assured. but while I may have been forsaken…I won't look like an ungrateful peasant girl for all Cyr and Lady Marissya have done for us. Her tairen subsided. They'll at least find a well-mannered one.
"Very well." Angela said.
Cyr wisely did not press the issue.
Angela straightened the bed as Cyr put everything else away.
Steadying her nerves, Angela was about to open the door when Cyr caught her hand.
Surprised, Angela turned to Cyr who promptly kissed her.
Pulling from her, he smirked.
"What happens between a shei'tan and a shei'tani is our shameless business." Cyr told her with glowing eyes.
Angela nodded. Her fingers resting at her lips. Cyr held his hand to her in Fey fashion. He opened the door with Angela slightly behind him, scanning for danger.
Time to meet Tajik. Angela thought nervously.
Marissya scowled as she continued her search in the Hall of Scrolls. She was ill at ease trying to find anything on Angela's anti-sel'dor capability in the archives.
Not once, she thought chagrined. Has there been any indication in our nation's history of a successful sel'dor breach without using Azrahn.
Shaking her head, she practically jumped as the clock struck 10 a.m.
«Shei'tani? » Dax asked concerned.
«Las.» She replied, returning the books with a Feyan command to the flame-haired 'librarian.'
«I must visit Angela―.»
«She and Cyr arrived just now after receiving your note.» He supplied. Dax was surprised at how polite the young woman greeted him for the first time after scaring her and he quickly apologized. Something he hoped Marissya would finally forgive him for.
Marissya made her way to the private receiving room specifically chosen for Angela's first meeting with her biological father.
Please don't scare her Tajik. She prayed
Rain and Ellysetta informed Tajik of Angela's background up to that point.
The Fey ran the gamut of absolutely furious, despairing, anxious and fearing Angela's rejection. His niece wove several golden she'dahlin healing strands to settle him while Rain readied his Water weaves.
«Just in case he tries to burn my palace down.» He wryly told Ellysetta and Bel.
The silent warrior shared a look with his friend.
The royal couple asked Bel to attend in case they needed help controlling Tajik.
The door opened and everyone froze before relaxing at Marissya's diplomatic presence as her shei'tan shook his head at some questioned she asked.
Before everyone relaxed there was a sure knock at the door.
Bel answered it.
"Good morning, kem'falla, Cyr." He politely greeted as the young matepair entered.
"Goodness," Angela said glancing around the stately room before her eyes regarded the tall redheaded Fey Lord. "it's not every day a girl is with such esteemed company."
After breaking the ice and exchanging pleasantries everyone backed enough away as Tajik searched her face.
"Y―you look just like kem'Lissie." Tajik offered.
Cyr winced as Angela regarded Tajik coolly. "Thank you…sir." She said politely, making Tajik frowned.
"I would like to ask you something." Angela said after a beat.
Tajik nodded once. Light blue eyes full of trepidation.
"Were you ever married to…Felicity?" She demanded softly as the room tensed.
Teska gods say aiyah! Cyr fervently prayed.
Tajik blinked in surprise.
"We were about to be engaged when you were born." He answered truthfully.
Angela's entire being stilled. She arched a brow at him.
"Felicity and I were going to perform an e'tanista." Tajik rushed, unsure what he said was so wrong.
"So no church then." Angela stated flatly.
Tajik looked taken aback. "Nei―we did not need any special ceremony."
Marissya and Cyr face-palmed.
Oh gods. The room collectively thought.
"Well," Angela said with barely controlled fury through clenched teeth. "that explains everything."
Turning from him she curtseyed low to everyone present as Cyr quickly followed suit as Angela walked away stiffly.
Behind her back, Cyr threw Tajik an apologetic look.
This is starting out to be a jaffing krekk of a morning. Cyr thought dryly.
Angela blinked back tears. Her heart beat too fast in her throat as her fists clenched so hard she knew she drew blood from her palms.
She had not been paying attention when Cyr led her to the receiving room. Angela cursed herself. She realized she had grown accustomed to Cyr leading and too complacent since living at the palace.
She scowled. She is lost. Every grand hallway look the same in its architectural design and coloring.
Cyr carefully approached on Angela's right side.
"Where would you like to go, shei'tani?" He calmly asked.
Angela swallowed thickly.
She did not do scenes. Yet, she knew she was about to have one.
«Our room first?» She Spirited, her voice shaking.
Cyr held out his hand in the Celierian fashion. Angela silently linked her fingers in his as he led her away from the stately palace walls toward their sanctuary.
As soon as she heard the door shut, Angela began cursing in her thick, Norban dialect which Cyr barely understood.
She paced like a caged tairen.
Before she knew it she was angrily crying and hitting their four-poster bedpost.
I shouldn't even sound like I do. She thought willfully. I should sound like a highborn lady. But I'm just a whore's daughter from a rakish father. No home. No title. No legacy. No family. Nothing and no one!
Cyr immediately wrapped his arms around her waist, and forcefully pulled her backward doing his best not to harm her.
"Nei! Parei! Setah!" The young Fey exclaimed. He could feel his own Rage igniting at his shei'tani's wayward emotions.
Angela sobbed.
"Don't you see?" She demanded wretchedly. Her hair in her face, sobbing. "Everything is true! Everything Vandar and the Norbans said was true!"
Cyr took a deep, steadying breath to anchor himself.
He knew he needed to be very patient with her.
He turned her around and made her look at him. She was ashamed at her outburst; but her hurt and outrage remained undisputed.
"Kem'Angela," Cyr began sincerely. "We've discussed that Norban thinking is unnecessary and nothing Vandar Michaelson said is true."
Angela hiccupped and tried to pull away. Her emotions bubbled again. She looked down as Cyr took her hand.
It was badly bruised and she started as she realized she tore the sleeve's fabric.
"I'm sorry!" She apologized upset. "If you have needle and thread I'll fix it―I swear!"
Cyr's eyes slowly widened in horror.
"Las ajiana," He said slowly, unnerved by the real mounting fear he sensed and saw through their bond.
"I know I haven't sewn in…a while," Angela babbled, becoming hysterical. "But I swear it was an accident and I'll never do it again, honest." She proclaimed, trembling. "I know how to take care of nice things, really."
Cyr's jaw dropped.
"I've no doubt you do, shei'tani." Cyr said, making a point to move slowly and keep his voice steady. He carefully pulled her away from the bed. He was positioning himself more to Angela's right where she could see him and making sure she is not boxed in.
Angela's sel'dor-and-platinum tears fell in earnest hardening down her cheeks in earnest.
Cyr wanted to punch his potential bond-father.
"Las ajiana," The Fey repeated. "teska." He entreated. "You're breaking my heart. Everything is fixable." He quickly used Earth to fix her sleeves and to mend her hands with a light Spirit weave thrown into the mix.
Gently, Cyr began to kiss her tears from her face.
"Kem'Angela," he said hearing the tenderness in his voice for the first time.
Her tairen reached for his soul.
«He hurt us.» She growled. «He left us. Ruined. No protection. Mother-kin betrayed us. I want Challenge!»
But Cyr knew something more than that.
She is trapped.
Maybe she's been trapped her entire life. He thought sadly.
"You're right," Cyr acknowledged, caressing her wild hair and looking her in the eye. "but that isn't all of it, kem'Angela ajiana?"
Angela gulped, unable to break his firm, but gentle grip.
Does he want to marry me? Even after all that? She wondered but did not dare ask. I am just...here. She felt more vulnerable than before.
"No," she admitted in a small voice.
"Everything is happening so fast all over again…I can't go home because I never really had a home and you heard him." Angela yelped.
"Aiyah," Cyr said calmly. "I hear you." Gently, Cyr took Angela to their bed and guided her to lie down. His front to her back. He used Spirit to convey his steady heartbeat, settling Angela.
For a long time, they remained silent as Cyr stroked her belly, arms, and nuzzled her cheek.
Angela hated herself.
Stupid, weak, angry, sad little whore's daughter. She thought, keeping her eyes closed.
"What are you thinking, kem'Angela?" Cyr asked quietly, not liking her negative emotions.
"You wouldn't like it." She muttered.
Cyr turned her over to face him.
"I will say it as often as you need to hear it, Angela." He said solemnly. "I like Angela. All of your experiences shaped you, aiyah, but they do not define you."
Angela sniffed.
«Ver reisa ku chae. Kem surah, shei'tani.»
Angela took a shaky breath and wrapped her arms around him.
"What should I do?" She whispered.
The young Fey thought for a moment.
"I think you should hear Lord Tajik out since I think he truly didn't know you existed." Cyr remarked as Angela stiffened.
"Alright," Angela agreed with ill grace. "But I don't want the Feyreisa―or the Feyreisen there."
Cyr frowned as he nodded above her head.
"Are you nervous?" He asked curiously.
"I'm jealous." Angela blurted.
Cyr pulled back to look at her angry, piercing grey eyes expectantly.
Angela sighed. "She's close to Lord Tajik―couldn't you see that warmth?" Looking away from him, she continued. "It makes me sound horrid and I'll admit to it."
But her magic hurts, too. And she's favored by the gods. She has truly everything, and more…even Cyr's loyalty.
Angela's tairen howled.
Cyr chose not to press although he knew there was more to it than that.
I'll ask Lady Marissya. He decided.
Marissya leaned on Dax as she explained to the room.
"I received a letter and a request from Cyr's parents for a marriage contract before Angela's 25th birthday."
They had spent a quarter bell reigning Tajik's shock, hurt and temper in.
"She grew up Norban," Marissya contested hotly at Tajik, ignoring her hovering shei'tan. "You can't expect her to understand all Feyan ways when she was made to believe horrible things regarding marriage, mates and hypocrisy. She's lucky to be alive, Tajik!"
Tajik swore. His red-hot temper igniting.
There was a knock on the door surprising everyone.
Bel opened the door seeing a grimly determined Angela and a calm Cyr.
"Would it be possible for Angela to speak to Lord Tajik alone?" Cyr asked formally as Angela's jaw tightened.
"Of course," Rain decreed quickly.
Ellysetta opened her mouth to object and Angela turned steely grey eyes on her.
"With respect, My Lady Feyreisa." Angela said softly.
Blushing and hurt by Angela's formality, Ellysetta quickly followed suit behind Rain. Cyr waited until everyone exited and caught the door before it closed. He bowed low to Tajik before closing it behind him.
Marissya gave Cyr a curious, wary look.
He quickly wove privacy.
"I have an idea what's going to happen," he admitted. "it took a long time for her to settle down."
Dax sighed and nodded. "She's still handling this…well?" He asked between them.
"That's not all of it, is it Cyr?" Marissya asked warily.
"Nei," Cyr said, pinching his nose bridge.
"She is…jealous of the Feyreisa." He said finally. It was his duty as a Fey warrior to admit knowledge on any perceived threat to the Feyreisa despite his misgivings for his shei'tani's sake.
Marissya closed her eyes. "Aiyah," she agreed. "I sensed it as soon as Tajik remained nearest to Ellysetta."
Dax muttered a swear word and for once, Marissya did not gainsay him.
"Ellysetta," Rain said chastised.
"What?" Ellysetta asked affronted.
Even Bel looked both sad and disappointed.
"You best remain at Rain's side and away from Tajik in the near future, kem'falla." Bel explained. "Lest she feel in competition for her gepa's affection."
Angela forced herself to take a seat and the tall Fey did as well.
"Why did you abandon…Felicity and I?" She asked quietly.
Tajik's jaw tightened, and he stared at her with brighter blue eyes.
"I didn't, ajiana." He said painfully. Angela swallowed and tried not to fall for it. But he seems in earnest.
«Shei'tani?» Cyr asked. «Do you have need of me? »
«No, not yet.» She answered, feeling a little relieved that Cyr had her back in this endeavor. She rubbed her temples, catching Tajik's attention.
"Both of you were captured by the Mages." Tajik rushed, his anguish to real to enact.
Angela frowned at him as Tajik sighed and quickly shaped the room into his memory
A younger, carefree Felicity with a round belly giggled as she prepared the meal for herself and Tajik.
"You want a little girl? Are you sure, my love?"
"Of course!" Tajik proclaimed as he pointedly led Felicity away to sit and she good-naturedly rolled her eyes.
"Why?" Felicity asked curiously, stroking her belly.
"Because little girls are so rare, Lissie." He explained as he prepared their dinner.
"Well, I hope she has you hair and magic." She remarked, fighting a smile at her besotted mate.
He laughed. "I hope she is as beautiful as you and not so quick to anger."
Felicity really laughed this time. "Are you sure about the name, Taj?"
"Aiyah," he said turning to her. "Angela Felicity vol Sibboreh." He smiled wondrously. "She will be our Angela-ajiana with her mela's happiness and her gepa's pride. She is our hope. Our sweet angelic Light Maiden from the gods."
Finishing the meal the Fey knelt to Felicity's belly.
"I can't wait to meet you kem'nessa." He crooned. "Kev vo san, ajiana."
Felicity's hand went to her mouth, as tears glistened in her eyes. Tajik kissed her and said sweet nothings to her before Felicity said she needed a walk.
Distracted by his Fey messenger he sent two Fey warriors to accompany them. He had a duty to perform and trusted his men to keep her safe.
The Fey warriors were killed with sel'dor blades and his e'tani-to-be and child gone without a trace.
Angela gaped at the image. Her tears blurring her vision. She felt Tajik's love, remorse, Rage and fear as if it were her own.
He did want me after all. She thought humbly.
"Beylah vo." Angela whispered. Her anger dissipating, and her shoulders sagged.
"Teska," Tajik said. "tell me the truth of how you escaped? How you grew up? How you were treated?" Tears streaming down his face. "And if I'm too late all over again."
Angela rose from her chair and Tajik stiffened.
She could not harm this proud, fiery warrior with her negative feelings. She had unwittingly hurt him enough.
Slowly Angela reached for Tajik who stood. She carefully hugged him.
Shocked, Tajik gently wrapped his arms about his long-lost daughter.
"We have much to learn about one another…gepa." She whispered. "You cannot call me your daughter since we must protect the Feyreisa and I've already been held captive."
Tajik's brows rose to his hairline before making a sharp vee.
"What?!" He sputtered. Fire ignited in reaction to his unsettled emotions and causing Angela to scream alongside her new father.
The door burst open and Cyr in his fearsome shei'tanista Rage saw Angela's body bow unnaturally.
Bel, Dax and Rain immediately placed protective weaves around the fellanas and barricaded Cyr from going to his mate.
"You've no right!" Cyr roared.
Bel nodded to Rain who quickly used all Elemental and Spirit magic to separate Angela and Tajik.
The Fire Master was unconscious as Angela whimpered.
Her new dress burned away and her back showcased deep, twin scars where tairen wings once sprouted.
Her hair was no long dark red. Now it was burnished copper. Her features distinctly Feyan and she is almost identical as the feminine equivalent of her father.
Cyr concentrated his formidable strength ignoring Fey voices as he stared at Angela's exposed beauty.
No one sees her that way except me!
Rain quickly repaired Angela's dress with a strong Earth weave before carefully approaching her with Water weaves. Her loveliness captured in her fiery pearlescent soul soothed him automatically.
«Ajiana?» He asked gently. He sensed Angela's tairen move.
«What is your name, kitling?» Rain questioned, amazed.
«Varenia.» She answered in her sweet voice. «Please don't hurt us. We didn't mean anything by it, honest.»
Rain's heart clenched. «Nei Varenia.» He assured. «We will not hurt you, kitling.»
Angela shuddered and opened swirling, banded platinum eyes.
Before Rain could say anything a fierce Air weave flung him away and Angela soon found herself in her shei'tan's arms.
"Cyr, no." She said in raw whisper. Reaching for him, feeling sore and bruised.
Cyr bared his teeth at everyone. His magic swirling about himself and his shei'tani offensively.
Bel swore and positioned himself near his Feyreisen and Feyreisa.
Marissya and Ellysetta quickly wove peace.
"Stay away from us." Cyr hissed. His Rage sparking white in his eyes and several Fey warriors encircled the royal couple and Marissya.
Angela's head pounded. "The Feyreisen was only trying to help. Tajik didn't lose control of the Fire―that was all me, honest." She pleaded in her raw whisper. She wanted that to be out in the open lest the Fey get the wrong idea about her shei'tan. She repeated her supplications in Spirit for good measure.
"What do you mean, Angela?" Dax asked warily.
"My…magic is Fire." Angela admitted, closing her swirling eyes in shame. "When Lord Tajik helped me I―I," she took a shallow, tense breath. "lost control and he burned the sel'dor from my lungs." She finished.
Rain straightened.
"Las," He commanded. "Angela speaks the truth. See to Tajik…Cyr take Angela."
Cyr's stony expression was chiseled, even for Fey.
The Air Master is granted a wide berth as he walked briskly to their suite. The Fey used all protections he knew around the perimeter.
Shaking with Rage, he took Angela to the bathing chamber.
This time Cyr did not heat the water. He used a mild Earth weave and removed Angela's dress.
She would have blushed if her body could spare the blood rush. She did not dare speak nor comfort him. His emotions ran the gamut of possession because other males had seen her naked and vulnerable.
Silently, Cyr stepped into the water with Angela and submerged them both. His weapons and armor had removed itself from his body with a simple Air weave along with an Air mask about their heads to breathe.
Personally, he found himself remaining clothed for the better since he did not want to do anything he regretted. He sensed her fear and it was enough to cool any potential passion.
And there you have it, folks! Tajik is Angela's father. More to come of course :-). Reviews welcome!
