Not All Heroes Are Guiltless

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The Shadow is the nightmare story you tell children to ensure they behave. He’s shrouded in myths and legends. The stories are often farfetched and unbelievable. But many claim he exists and is subjected only to Bellar’s King. The assassinations were always the same in description. Clean slashed without any sign of resistance. He could kill twenty men without a sign of struggle from a single one of them.

My only direct encounter was a warning when I was first assigned to Andrew’s troop. Another troop had been decimated without any evidence of who had killed them. The idea was thrown out about the possibility it being one man. The Shadow was the only one who fit the description, and everyone seemed to shiver and move on knowing no evidence would be found.

I had heard a rumor that the Hou Ndour and Bellar Kings had a trade treaty and was only accepted upon death of the King’s assassin. So, Lana had obviously heard about the treaty also and assumed he had someone replace him on the chopping block. I shiver unconsciously in fear over the thought that he truly was The Shadow.

He’s a mage who can cast wards, and the evidence of the fire has some elemental manipulation that could be used for combat. He was able to coerce without the side effects of his victims being made apparent. The one mental mage we encountered had to touch his victim, and then they wouldn’t act naturally. They also wouldn’t be able to hold any food down either. My abductor though didn’t have to touch, and we went on with our lives without even acknowledging him for a good chunk of time. But what is scarier is his control on his wolf isn’t strained, and he transforms almost like it’s his second skin.

I watch the dark hazel eyed stranger in front of me, and his expressionless gaze and realization hits me hard. I’ve been around him and have never felt afraid of him but only in awe. I wouldn’t truly say I was scared of his grisly wolf form but was more frightened about the condition of leaving everyone behind. I’m scared of the concept of The Shadow but not of the man in front of me. I could even feel Andrew’s fear of him when we saw him, but every encounter I had with him, I felt safe and calm.

I sit up, and his eyes meet mine, almost like my motion startled him. I need to force him to answer my questions. I give him a disapproving scowl, “Can you at least tell me what ‘nadar’ means?”

He remains silent until his voice cracks much like the fire, “Blessed gift of destiny.”

I repeat the words over and over. The words resonate over my internal monologue. Breaking it down a divinity gave me a destiny? No, it’s a promise of loved ones. The concept of soulmate is something the court ladies would discuss in detail from their romance stories. It’s believed that several of the ancient bloodline gods had matched their bloods with connections for stronger bloodlines. It would also benefit from the lack of fertility if a god blessed a strong mage coupling. Could Lupine be included?

“The vision from when you touched my wrists on the cliff. Wasn’t it from you?” I look up, and he doesn’t even respond to me for what felt like eternity.

His eyes search deep in me, almost like he’s trying to read my soul, but it doesn’t threaten me any. After a few heart-wrenching moments, he finally asks, “Tell me about your vision?”

I reach for the fur he set down near us and find a flask of wine. I took a sip and let the wine quench my parched throat. “I saw a snowy mountain peak high above the clouds. You called me Delia, and there were three children following us. But I’ve only seen that particular vision once. Since then, my dreams have shown the same peak, but I’m there alone.”

He looks troubled and upset, “The lupine god’s gift their children with a vision of hope. The one they created for you. There are two reasons why the vision would disappear. The first is the risk of the vision not coming true. It’s a way to try to influence you to attempt to regain the possibility of the vision becoming true. Almost like a god is taunting you to do something for them. You have choices you have to make, and if you choose the right path, you will have what you seek. Your parents were the same way. They both were given vague visions and had to work together to succeed for their joint happiness. The second is because lupine mates have a special bond between each other. I had hoped that because we hadn’t formed a bond, I would have been able to block you feeling my pain. I didn’t even know the bond was created until you entered my cell, and I had to verbally break the connection with you to protect you.”

I stared at him in shock. He knew my parents, and he also admitted to being the reason why my dreams were lonely. Of course, he knew my parents. Lana is his mother. He spoke about them out of love, and I’ve only heard about my parents’ relationship as sorrowful and tragic. “You knew my parents?”

“Your father cared for me more than anyone in the world. He was elated when I told him you were my destined. Delia is the nickname I called you when I saw your potential. He must have kept calling you Delia secretly.” His voice doesn’t falter, but the compassion nearly brings me to tears. My mother was the only one who spoke of my father. She loved him fully, and I had never known how he died until Aunt Lana talked to me about my bloodlines madness. However, my father knew this stranger, and he admitted my father cared for him.

Wait, he just admitted he met me when my father was alive. He spoke to my father about me and met me. He had known I was his mate since my father was alive. I pull my arms across my chest and look at him, and notice he’s detached again. Lana and he don’t get along. He would never have been welcomed to the palace. That means he arrived in secret and left even quieter. I buckle up my anger at him and sigh, “I’m sorry for your loss. You must have loved my father dearly, and his death still pains you. I only have one memory of my father. We were in the garden playing games and he called me Delia. I remember the joy of being picked up in his arms.”

As I speak, I notice he doesn’t change his expression at all. Cold and calculated. I’ve witnessed this man kill so easily without a sense of regret or even justice. He slashed the giant in one swift motion and was unfazed by the c*****e he wrecked. On the one hand it’s refreshing to know he loved my father, but he holds so many secrets, and I’m nearly guaranteeing they are dark. His lack of emotions is harrowing in its intensity.

He doesn’t say anything more to me. He just waits on the pig to roast and stokes the fire to pass the time. He’s supposed to be the person I have a destiny with, but he doesn’t want to answer my questions or even trust me with his secrets. He disconnected our bond, and that’s why I wake up feeling lonely? The pain at the ball was nearly unbearable. That must have been the pain he was referring to. I don’t know how he is still living.

I place my hand on my collar. The weight is heavy, and it scratches my skin. He said it’s what held me back, but can I trust him? The madness makes you slowing to drain any sense of humanity. But he’s a walking enigma to that claim. He controls his madness, and although he wrecks c*****e, he is decisive and vicarious. I’ll do it then.

I need more strength to fight for my country back. I wasn’t able to do anything for them because I was held back. Now, I need to be stronger, and he’s bought me the time I need to train. I look at him, and he isn’t even focused on me, “Can you help me take this off?”

He seems startled again by my question. Something no one could see if they weren’t looking for it. He stands up and bends down next to me. He places a hand on each side of the collar before he whispers, “Are you sure? I won’t be able to put it back on.”

I swallow my nerves down and then stare deeply into his hazel eyes, “Will you help me keep from losing my humanity?”

He smirks, and his eyes lit up with emotions he’s hiding deep within, “I would not have it any other way.”

He breaks the collar with just his strength, and the pieces fall into my lap. His fingers linger on my neck, brushing the inflamed rash tenderly from where the collar rubbed my neck. His fingers were cool to the touch, and although the skin was tender under his fingers, they felt good against my neck. He draws his hand back, and my gut drops in disappointment.

“That should do.” He says as he returns back to his spot next to the fire. He checks the pig again and pulls the stick off the balance. He throws dirt on the fire because he is only using it to cook, not like I couldn't use the added light. But, the summer heat will keep us warm throughout the night. I will just have to live with the embers as my own light.

He breaks off a piece of leg and hands it to me. I pinch the fatty meat and place it on my tongue. The juice fills my mouth and spills down my chin. I wipe it off with my hand before I embarrass myself.

Glancing at my mate, he’s tearing into the meat with his teeth and cleans every bone with vigor. I giggle to myself watching him, and he doesn’t even acknowledge me until I tease, “Hungry?”

“Yeah, it’s been a while since I’ve had cooked meat.” He says darkly, and I stare at him alarmed. It dawns on me; he has been chained to a dungeon wall for the last month. I realized he was strong enough to save me, but I had accused him of not rescuing the city. I was a spoiled brat and only thought of myself and my responsibilities. He couldn’t possibly have enough energy to save the city from all those giants.

I eat in silence and offer the bone to him, and he accepts it, cleaning it without any apprehension. I nestled back into the nook I found early and finally welcome sleep.