Page 51 of The Rebel Seer

“Then marry me. I need you to understand that the minute my body penetrates yours I will consider you my wife. I will not touch another woman for all my days.”

And this is why I’m scared. “Rhys, we can’t know I’m your goddess until we sleep together, and what happens if I’m not?”

“You are. Shahidi, if you say you’ll marry me, I’ll take you right here. Right now. I’ll let my power flow and wake every plant and tree and flower in this sithein.”

His words wash over me like cold water.

“You can’t.” Shit. He can’t. “I think there would be a few questions as to why Devinshea brought a far more powerful fertility god back to his place. I don’t think your father is very open in this timeline. You exploding the gardens will bring too much attention.”

I hear him hiss and then his fist pounds on the door.

I didn’t think at all. I just wanted, and the tension between us is killing me. I know part of his unmitigated assholery is because he has no place to put his energy. Which is more powerful here. My love is a swirling storm of anger and fear and bad history and magic he doesn’t yet understand.

He steps back and I turn. My heart aches at the pain I see on his face, and I will do anything. When my heart seems so full of him, I know my hesitation is going to come for nothing. I know I’ll fall into his arms no matter how irritated I am with him.

I love him.

“The temple.” He takes a long breath. “We can go to the temple. If it’s anything like the one I remember, there’s a way to both amplify and nullify fertility power. My great-grandfather was incredibly powerful, and they had to dampen his magic when he really got going. I can take you there.”

“Rhys, I haven’t said I’ll marry you,” I say quietly though I know I’m close, but that power of mine still worries me.

“Because you might not be my goddess?”

“Rhys, my power is rooted in death. Yours in life. What if this union takes away from your power?”

“And what if it’s all connected?” he offers. “Have you thought about that? You talk about how you stay in shadows, but you literally send souls to the light. The wheel turns. Spring is not possible without the rest of winter. Without death and dying there is no rebirth. You cannot take my pow…” He stops for a moment, his face going blank as though he’s trying to figure something out. “Shy, someone is coming. Something is coming. I feel her pull.”

There’s a knock on the door and I swear I feel a gentle breeze and then the scent of grass and lilacs and apple blossoms. I hear the flutter of birds somewhere in the distance, and warmth creeps along my skin.

The pixies on Rhys’s shoulder seem to flex their wings as though puffing up to greet whoever is knocking on our chamber door.

And Rhys himself seems to not be able to take his eyes off the door. Like he knows the power behind it and is intoxicated by it.

Well, it appears he’s not going to deal with the situation. He’s going to stare like he’s waiting for a goddess to walk in. I stride to the door and realize that’s exactly what he’s waiting for.

An ethereal blonde stands in the hall, her hair covered in pixies, their wings slowly opening and closing. I’m not sure how she does it but there’s a gentle glow coming off her. She has the loveliest face I’ve ever seen, with vibrant green eyes and lush lips. Those lips turn up in a sweet smile, and the scent of lilies fills the air. She reaches out a hand to me. “You. Please tell me your name.”

She’s here for me? I was kind of thinking she was here for my boyfriend and we were going to have a smackdown. Which is sad because they always devolve into hair pulling, and mine looks good right now. I reach out and touch her, a flash going through my mind.

Blue skies and green hills. She is the loam of the earth, the light awakening. She is rebirth. The planting season. Flowers growing. Roots spreading until all the earth knows the long slumber of winter is over and it is time to wake. I hear goslings honk and feel the gentle rain that feeds the land.

I have damn tears in my eyes when I finally come out of it. “I’m Shahidi.”

Her hands clasp mine. “And I am Ostara. Welcome, Sister Death. It is so good to be in your presence once again. And you have brought a mate. Well-chosen and matched. He is the first elemental we have met in a thousand years. And I want to know who the vampire is.”

“Do we speak with Ostara or her host?” Rhys seems to have gotten the power of speech back. “My goddess, this is Ostara of the spring, holder of rains and wind. But she must have a host.”

Like Bris lives in Devinshea.

She seems utterly delighted and I swear her smile amps up my own, and then I remember she called me Sister Death and I frown again.

“You are Devinshea’s son?” she asks. “I mean obviously you are. You look exactly like him, but I didn’t realize he was associated with an elemental. He has returned and brought a new member of our family?”

I look to Rhys because we still have a ruse to run. We don’t know this woman. We can’t exactly explain. And maybe it’s better to keep her in the dark because we gather some intelligence that way.

“Yes, I am the king’s son. A by blow from an affair he had with a woman from the Earth plane. He recently met her again and wants to know me. And this is my wife, Shy. So you can release her hand and allow her to come back to me.”

I feel my eyes widen at Rhys’s cold tone. I would suspect he would be attracted to someone so close to his own power, but he watches her with stony eyes. They’ve gone to deep jade, the color they get when he’s angry. Or possessive.

---