Heartmate (48 page)

And Danith would be very displeased with him if she learned he'd harmed an animal.

T'Ash began unwinding the tendrils of his mind from his stridebeast.

Uncaring of the time it took, he proceeded down an old, unused, twisting road that slowly made its way near his Residence. He welcomed the vacant route. Now he could really think.

His Residence meant nothing. His future was burdensome. He'd have to find and wed a woman he knew would never touch his heart. He must sire children for the sake of the line. Others in the FirstFamilies had done as much. He wouldn't be the only one to live a life of duty, to abjure his own needs to fulfill his obligations to his House.

With a start, he realized that though it was high summer, the road felt cold and empty, with a whipping wind biting the air as an omen of a dark, cold, dreary life. Just like his vision.

He shuddered and picked up the pace. In moments he dismounted wearily outside his greeniron gates and sent his stridebeast on to the T'Ivy stables.

His gates opened silently for him, issuing him into an estate that would never ring with the laughter of his HeartMate. He trudged up the path to the Residence itself.

Zanth met him at the door. Zanth lifted his nose and curled his upper muzzle.
Me lonely, you not here. Me clean out five roon nests and no one calls Me Hero. Cocoa mousse all gone by third day. Me miss crunchies at FamWoman's—

“Quiet!” T'Ash blinked rapidly and stared at his whiny Fam. “She is not our FamWoman. She will not be my HeartMate. That is over and done with. We will get some other woman, maybe a daughter of a GreatHouse.” Even a woman of the highest lineage could not replace Danith in his heart.

Not want another female. Only pink person, FamWoman, matches you. You stupid. You not listen to Me. Me go to eating room. You get more cocoa mousse from no-time for Me.
Zanth stood and stalked away, tail lashing.

T'Ash did as he was bid, teleporting an entire pan to Zanth's placemat, enough so the Fam could get sick if he ate it all.

Danith's loss hurt. Bad. Worse than anything he'd ever felt before, any blaser ray, any knife or swordblade, any fist. It was just as bad as that fire Flametree had concocted, painfully eating away at him until nothing was left.

T'Ash wondered if his emotions would die soon and leave him a walking husk of a man. That would be preferable to spending every moment of the day in excruciating emotional pain, missing Danith.

He peeled off his clothes and sent them to the cleanser before checking his ResidenceDen. He had several message holos and something in the collection box.

Opening the collection box, he flinched when he saw the tea mug. The first thing he'd ever touched with Danith's resonance. Though overlaid by smudgy D'Ceylon vibrations, T'Ash could still smell Danith's blossom-fresh scent. He could still feel the generosity and daintiness of her spirit.

He closed his eyes and turned his head away. The report caught his eye. It appeared to be several pages, but the top papyrus said “Summary.” He read the bold, black, calligraphic letters—Danith's fortune.

“You will be surprised by good fortune. Love—deep and true, a HeartMate love—will come to you. You will receive honors, accolades and gilt for your Flair. Beware of physical danger, but there is a protector who will always guard you and give you his strongest support.”

T'Ash closed his eyes and banished the mug to the farthest reaches of his vault. “There is a protector who will always guard you and give you his strongest support.” Lord and Lady, how he wanted to do that. How he wanted Danith. But he was protecting her, and guarding her, he reminded himself. Without him in her life, she would never be faced with the dark brooding that battered the emotions. She would also be spared the violence that seemed drawn to him.

He went upstairs to the showeroom, hoping some of his cares would be washed away by the waterfall, knowing that only the oblivion of sleep would ease his hurt. He'd try to sleep, perhaps he would be spared dreams of Danith. Or nightmares. By now he didn't know which was worse.

 
All Danith's doubts resurged, of course. She'd managed
to hold them at bay during the rest of the day before, but they ambushed her sleep.

She hadn't rested the entire agonizing night but recalled each and every one of her experiences during her Passages. She rose and dressed carefully in a gown of green shot with silver. She had purchased the expensive robe for her initiation as a Noble but had postponed the ceremony. With her usual lack of courage, she realized she couldn't face the rite without T'Ash's support.

She looked around her small house, knowing that she could now leave her home without a pang. She had outgrown it, though she would always recall its comfort with fondness.

But now she had to confront T'Ash and confess her love for him, and her intention to never leave him.

She shivered at the life-altering decision.

She nervously shuffled the cards. Her fingers fumbled and one fell out. With no surprise, she picked up the Lord of Blasers.

When she inserted it in the deck, the corner of another poked out. The ten of cauldrons—a man and woman holding each other and facing a rainbow, with children dancing in the background. Tears of yearning trickled down her face. How she wanted the contentment and lasting happiness the card foretold. How she yearned for the perfection of human love, earned by overcoming the darkest fears.

And she only had one last, mountainous fear to confront. Going to T'Ash and giving herself to him. But the reward was worth it.

She put the cards down and gathered her courage, forged a core of steel determination within herself. She stirred the small bowl of polished stones that T'Ash had given her and found a ring. Gold and small, she turned it 'round and 'round in her fingers until she realized what it was—a Noble boy's HouseRing. Rand's HouseRing. She wondered if he ever thought of himself as Rand.

And she wondered what it would take for Rand to come to her and love her, an open, vulnerable man, and not the GreatLord T'Ash.

Panicking, knowing if she didn't go now, she might never have the bravery to ever do it, she slipped the ring on her little finger, teleported the jewelry chest to outside T'Ash's gates, and grabbed Princess.

With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and visualized T'Ash Residence. The place she would spend the rest of her life. An instant later she was there.

 
 
T'Ash rose from an uneasy rest and spent some time in
the HouseHeart. It failed to comfort him. All he could think of was suffering Passage here, making mental love to Danith, creating his HeartGift and their marriage armbands, preparing the room for Danith.

He went upstairs to his bedroom and reached for the other source of solace in his life—the T'Ash Family History, the book he'd been reading when Rue and his cohorts had torched the original Ash Residence.

He read the first page:

 
 
The Ash is the symbol of the link between inner and outer worlds. It is the Cosmic Ash, the World Tree. Its roots delve
deep into the circle of Abred—the past, or chaos. Its trunk is in the center circle of Gwynedd—the present, or balance. And its branches support the heavens, the final circle of Ceugent—the future, or pure creative force.

 
But he had not integrated his past. He had not been
able to merge the child Rand, the young Downwind scruff, and the GreatLord T'Ash. He had failed the basic tenets of his line.

He lapsed into introspection. Danith had helped, and he was struggling to overcome his lack, but he still feared telling her of the darkness of his past; feared letting her so close that if she ever abandoned him he would be truly lost.

It was that fear that made him leave her, made him rationalize that she would be better off without him.

HeartMates were never better off without each other.

And as for protecting her—living with him was her best protection. He'd had a stable, peaceful life for several years before the events of the last eightdays, and he'd make sure his life with Danith held no more violence.

He knew what he had to do, and he dreaded it. He set his jaw. He'd done many things in his life that he dreaded, and nothing, nothing, was as important as giving himself to Danith. Only in giving all of himself to her, without regard of the consequences of rejection, could he receive the ultimate prize, Danith's love.

Muttering words of encouragement to himself, he dressed carefully, in his best garb that represented GreatLord T'Ash. He would give her everything.

He picked up the book, and went to the window to look over his estate, his lonely estate.

He spied a movement in the rose quartz crystal scrystone.

Danith!

He could barely believe his eyes. He could not move. His heart started pounding. He could not take his gaze from her. His sex hardened at the sight of her small and rounded form. He remembered her body in his arms. Her Flair was now almost visible and he recalled the delicacy of her mind, particularly as it cleaved to his in passion. It had been too long since they had loved. It had been too long since they had simply been together.

T'Ash managed only to suck in a deep breath, his fingers tightened whitely on the book. He still felt stunned.

She had come to him.

She had faced her own fears and come to him. She ran away no longer.

Her pink aura was bright, the large, antique jewelry chest stood next to her, and she carried Princess in her arms.

His gut tightened at the coming discussion.

“Danith,” he said softly, knowing the stone would speed his words to her.

She looked up to the linked scrystone set in the wall. She smiled, a blinding smile different than any he'd seen before.

It staggered him. He braced a hand against the window jamb. She'd come into her own, grown into her Flair and her new Noble status. Before him stood GrandLady D'Mallow.

And he'd missed it.

He hadn't been there to see the final transformation, something he would always regret. He wondered if she, too, regretted it.

“T'Ash. I'm here.” She took a deep breath and cuddled Princess close. T'Ash wanted to be held that way, close and gently by his love.

He cleared his throat twice before he could speak. “Be sure, Danith. Once you enter, I cannot let you go.”

She smiled again. Danith D'Mallow, GrandLady. “Open the gates, T'Ash.”

He teleported the jewelry chest to the empty sitting room of the MistrysSuite. He said the Word to open the gates completely, as they had never been opened before.

Danith stepped back and let them swing wide. She nodded, a courteous, graceful acknowledgment of his welcome, then she walked through his gates, head high, shoulders back, stepping into her new home.

“I'll be in the ResidenceDen,” T'Ash said, then ordered the gates closed behind her.

She carefully placed Princess down. The cat looked around her, gave a pitiful meow, and jumped back into Danith's arms. Exactly where T'Ash wanted to be. Exactly what he wanted to do.

Danith stroked her cat and murmured reassuring words.

T'Ash teleported to his ResidenceDen.

He paced.

When she entered the ResidenceDen, she didn't have Princess. “I left Princess in the kitchen. I've come. I've quit cowering. You say we're HeartMates. I accept that. Offer me the new HeartGift.” She hesitated a moment and another smile flashed across her face. “Even offer me the necklace. I'll accept.”

She closed her eyes and her expression dimmed. “It has been awful without you, T'Ash. I've been excruciatingly lonely, even with my friends, both old and new, and the Clovers.”

He should have felt exultant. She had come to him, and he wouldn't have to reveal himself. He wouldn't have to test her love with the darkness inside of him.

She would be HeartBound to him, linked with him forever, before she learned his deepest secrets. Easy, just the way he'd always expected.

But wrong. Not fair, and not honorable. And despite the fact that he wanted to take her, bond with her on all levels, he would not take her without letting her know his real self.

T'Ash spoke. “I was wrong. You weren't the cowardly one. I was. I never let you into my past. I never left myself vulnerable to you.” He felt as if he were wide open to her gaze.

He held out the book in both hands. The Ash Family History, the book he'd been reading when the men came to destroy his House. The book he'd written in during all the dark and wonderful moments of his life. She deserved to see it, to know him. She needed to see it. He hoped it wouldn't drive her away.

She grasped it and he let it go. Then, suddenly, he knew just giving her the book was not enough. It could show her where he'd been, how he'd lived, but not what was important now. What he was now. And the best way to reveal everything was to simply remove all his internal barriers and link with her. She would know all of him, then. And he would know, immediately and intimately what she thought, believed, felt for him. If he dared.