Coreene Callahan - Knight Avenged

“You’ve naught to fear, child. I come in peace,” the goddess said, soothing the worry before glancing at the dagger still vibrating in the wall. She stared at it a moment, then returned her focus to Cosmina. Speculation in her eyes, the goddess raised a brow. “Well . . . do you?”

“Feel better?” she asked, swimming past shock to regain mental equilibrium.

The goddess nodded.

Cosmina sighed. “Not really.”

“You are suffering.”

“I am angry.”

“To be expected. Men are ofttimes difficult, Cosmina,” the goddess said, stepping around the foot of the bed. “They are a mystery unto the ages. Most cause more harm than good.”

“Mayhap, but not—”

“Henrik?” Slipping her hands inside the wide sleeves of her gown, the goddess approached with silent steps. A million secrets in her eyes, she stopped at the edge of the table, leaving the stained surface between them. “If you believe that, child, why did you let him go?”

“I had no choice.”

“Didn’t you?”

The question took her by surprise. The goddess’ expectant expression took her the rest of the way. Both hands fisted in rabbit fur, Cosmina pulled the throw tight across her shoulders and frowned. No choice. Powerful words with incredible impact. Now she wondered whether they were true. She hadn’t tried to make Henrik stay. Hadn’t voiced how she felt or encouraged him to come back. Hadn’t done much of anything at all, so—

Cosmina frowned. Drat and damn. She’d simply let him leave . . . without a fight.

More fool her. The goddess knew it. Now she did too.

Regret whispered through her, making her heart ache. “Is it too late, Majesty? Have I lost all hope?”

“Time turns and things change, Cosmina, and so must we, but . . .” Understanding in her eyes, her mouth curved. “Love is forever. Do not lose faith in that, child. In the end, ’tis all we have or will ever hope to leave behind.”

The advice lit a fire inside her. No matter how angry with Henrik, she wanted the truth. Had she made a terrible mistake? Could she forge a real future with him? Was he worth fighting for? The questions jabbed at her. She couldn’t deny the appeal. Or her need to know . . . once and for all. Spinning on her heel, Cosmina strode toward her cabinet. She needed to get dressed . . . right now. Intuition gathered, pulling up stakes inside her mind. She couldn’t stay here. Not an instant longer.

“Thank you for your visit, Majesty, but I must go.” Reaching the armoire door, Cosmina flipped it open. A list streamed into her head as she stared at the shelves—extra clothes, lots of food, all her weapons. She would need every bit of it to survive her journey to Drachaven. “I need to find him.”

“Nay, Cosmina.” Raising an invisible hand, the goddess halted her forward progress. Magic swirled, scenting the air with hollyhocks as she spun Cosmina back to face her. Heart locked in her throat, frozen in place, she met the deity’s gaze. Expression set in serious lines, the goddess shook her head. “I cannot allow you to travel the mountain passes to Drachaven. Not while evil looms and the Blessed return to White Temple.”

“But—”

“Be patient, child. I set the wheel in motion, atoning for my mistakes by placing Henrik in your path. If it is meant to be, Henrik will come back to you. For now, remember your duty to the Order of Orm and do as I command,” the goddess said. “You completed the ancient rite and have heard the call. You feel the tug toward home. Heed it, Cosmina. Return to the temple. Welcome your sisters and make ready for the High Priestess’ return to holy ground.”

The words filled her with purpose. “It will be done, Majesty.”

“Then go, child, and know you are not alone.” White light glimmering in her aura, the goddess released her. Able to move again, Cosmina breathed a sigh of relief and watched spellbound as the deity faded before her eyes. “I will be with you. Oh, and Cosmina . . .”

The all-powerful voice drifted on a whisper, wavering in thin air. A moment later, the Goddess of All Things disappeared in a ripple of sparkling light.

“Read the note, child,” the goddess breathed from beyond the earthly realm. “Read his note.”

Wonder made her heart skip a beat. As it resumed pounding, Cosmina heeded the call and, stepping up to the table edge, reached for the note. Fear almost made her stop, trying to convince her that—despite the goddess’ insistence—Henrik’s message wasn’t worth reading. That she didn’t need to know. That ’twas the height of foolishness to hope. But her hand refused to listen, picking up the parchment, unfolding the creases, opening the note for her eyes to see . . . and her heart to read.

Cosmina,

I am sorry. Please forgive me.

I love you.

H

Three sentences. Simple, no nonsense . . . direct and to the point, devastating as the message sank in and the truth struck home. He loved her. The impact of it made her knees wobble. Wonder bubbled up, splashed through her, spilling over the edge of reason, obliterating doubt as it scored a direct hit to her heart. Tears filled her eyes. Oh nay . . . oh blast . . . damn Henrik to hell and back. Of all the things to say, or rather, write and—

Goddess help her.

She was going to lose control. Become messy. Cry like a weak-willed ninny—or whatever a girl did when dealing with a man who touched her heart. One hand cupped over her mouth, Cosmina shook her head and retreated a step. And then another. The table edge bumped her bottom. Gaze still riveted to the missive, she reached out and searched for a stool. Smooth wood met her palm. She sank into the seat, shock making it hard to draw a full breath. Filling her lungs, she forced her chest to expand and stared at the messy scrawl. Moments ticked past, falling into more as she struggled to process the message and find fault. But she couldn’t. It wasn’t possible. The flaw didn’t exist. And fury? ’Twas naught but ancient history now.

The gods bless and keep her. She’d never imagined . . . hadn’t thought . . .

Cradling the note with both hands, she read the words again.

I love you.

She lost the battle. Tears fell, tumbling over her bottom lashes.

“Oh, Henrik.” Another tear escaped, rolling down her cheek. “I love you too.”

Foolish to admit, never mind say out loud.

Cosmina knew it the moment the words left her mouth. Giving them a voice only granted love more power. The kind that often hurt, and she could never take back. Not that it mattered. Love didn’t negotiate. Or allow its victims time to dodge. It aimed true, hit hard, and never backed down. So . . . no help for it. ’Twas done, her heart given and her mind set on the man who’d kept her safe and taught her pleasure. On a warrior with a restless spirit, good heart, and gentle soul. No sense trying to fight it. She would forever be fixed on Henrik. Regardless of the manner of their parting.

Or the fact he’d been the one to walk away.

Ironic in a way. Symbolic to be sure. Especially since she planned to do the same.

This very day.

Shifting on the stool, Cosmina glanced around her cottage. It wasn’t much to look at it. Naught more than a bunch of sticks and stones, a collection of lopsided furniture scavenged from unwanted piles. More of a temporary way station than a real home. And yet, she’d found solace inside these walls. At least for a time. But that was behind her now. The goddess’ visit along with her decree couldn’t be ignored.

She must do her duty. Was a member the Blessed and belonged at White Temple. But as Cosmina pushed to her feet, pulled Henrik’s knife from the wall, and went about gathering her things, she longed for something more. Something better. Something richer than love words scrawled on parchment. She wanted the man who had written them returned to her.