Page 90 of Dark Rival

Royce walked away. His temples pounded. He was supposed to wait five hundred and seventy-seven more years for her? For what—a single night?

One night was not going to be enough.

And if there was only going to be one night, he wanted it to be sooner; he wanted it to be now.

“Ruari, dinna give in to such temptation.”

Royce jerked. He was so agitated he’d forgotten to shield his thoughts.

“Moffat hunts her. I dinna ken what to make o’the fact that she’s here now, in this time—an’ ye dinna die for almost six hundred years. A long war lies ahead.”

And in that moment, it truly sank in.

Moffat would not die tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that. He had to hunt him—but the hunt would last almost six hundred years—and in the end, he was to be the one vanquished.

And the burden of such an endless war, added now to the burden of the past eight hundred years, crushed him down.

“Yer strong. Ye can protect her for such a long time. I’m sure of it.”

Royce couldn’t answer.

For the first time in his life, he had entered a war knowing the outcome. It wasn’t war—it was a journey to his death.

And then he rallied and recovered. There was no choice. It was a journey he had to make, a war he must fight, because he had been chosen, and Ailios must live.

ALLIE WAS BATHED in holy light. She no longer prayed. On the floor of the knave, before a sacred shrine containing the holy Book of Wisdom, the Cladich, she knelt before all the gods. Their holy blessings washed over her, through her, and she wept, carried away on a tide of religious rapture.

When the communion was finally over, she became aware of her surroundings. The gods had gone. Long, dark shadows had crept into the chapel. Allie sat on the floor, dazed. She’d come into the chapel in the morning, instinctively finding her way to the shrine, and she had begun to pray. The Ancients had come closer and closer, and finally she had been the one showered with their holy, healing powers. The tears of rapture had dried on her face and now, they stung. She felt empowered and weakened at once.

Allie stood and became dizzy. She reached out to a pew and waited for the chapel to stop spinning.

She’d never had such a religious experience in her life, but she was pretty sure every Ancient had come to her. It had been mind-blowing.

Allie took a deep breath and turned, her mind starting to clear. She thought about Royce, who had said they’d leave the island hours ago. Before she could decide what his mood might be at the delay, she saw the woman standing at the end of the knave, as if she had just walked through the door.

Her heart slammed. “Mother?”

Elizabeth was dressed in a long, pale gown, and she looked as corporeal as anyone. But the moment Allie spoke, Elizabeth began to fade. Through her body, Allie could see the chapel walls.

“Mother! Wait!” she cried. She rushed up the knave, toward her.

Elizabeth did not smile. As Allie came closer, she realized her mother’s expression was haunted. No, it was frightened. Allie paused before the translucent apparition, terribly alarmed. Elizabeth started to speak urgently to her—but Allie could barely hear her whispers.

“Mom! What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Danger…you…Ruari,” she seemed to say. And then she swiftly faded into nothingness.

Allie gasped in shock. What had just happened?

Her mother had reached out to her from the dead, again. And she had been frightened. Had she been asking for help? Had she been trying to warn her? What did this mean?

Allie stepped from the chapel, shaken to the core. She glanced around, but it was a dark night, filled with shadow, clouds clearly having come in that afternoon. The various buildings beyond the chapel were lit from within with fires and torches, but she saw no one moving about. Even though the grounds were holy, she strained her senses. The night was vacant of all evil.

A man materialized from the dark shadows, striding purposefully toward the chapel.

Allie knew it wasn’t Royce from his far lither silhouette, just as she knew he was a Master, his aura filled with holy power. But it was also filled with uncertainty, which surprised her—as if he did not quite know himself. His strides suddenly faltered as he sensed her.

His gaze turned instantly to her, and he paused, not entering the chapel.