Though I admit I've thought about our interactions a lot. Most of the time, you were Ice Man. Other times you were nice, despite the demon. What gives?
Anyway. I'm tempted to sneak into the Connacht compound and do a little spying. I mean, how would you feel if you returned, and I'd already taken care of your brother? Would you thank me with a little bond severing? Or resent me?
Gillian the Dune Raider
PS: Did you know Sin is engaged to your former fiancee?
422 years AB
Dear Puck,
I've decided you're never coming back, I do indeed hate you again and I'm destined to die without ever having an orgasm. At least I've made a new friend. Remember the chimera-POS who broke my hand the day you abandoned me in Amaranthia? (Soon after YOU broke my finger??) Well, about two-and-a-half years ago, her great-great-granddaughter gave birth to a baby boy. A little runt who has come close to death more times than I like to admit. Momma wanted nothing to do with baby--the POS gene is strong in this bloodline, I suppose--so I took over his care.
His name is Peanut, and he looks at me as if I'm the Amaranthian version of Santa Claus, and every day is Christmas. He's jealous of Winter, Cameron, Johanna and Rosaleen, and any other chimera I attempt to ride.
Tomorrow, his training begins. He's going to be my warhorse.
I guess I owe you a debt of gratitude, Puck. If you hadn't brought me here, I wouldn't have met him. I wouldn't have trained, and strengthened, and grown. I wouldn't be this happy, or have a family of my own.
Okay, okay. I don't actually hate you. And I know chimeras only live for about two hundred years, and I'll lose my Peanut at some point--unless I find a way to make him immortal, of course.
WHERE ARE YOU??? Where's William? I kinda sorta miss you both. I regret how things ended. I want to talk to you guys. Please, Puck. Hurry home.
Gillian the Dune Raider
PS: Keep me waiting much longer, and Pucky gonna get stucky--with a sword.
17
501 years AB
Puck stepped through a final doorway, entering Amaranthia. Just as before, magic brushed against his skin and filled his veins, thrilling him. Unlike before, he didn't use magic to transform into his natural form; he had no desire to impress William.
Reveling in his beloved homeland, Puck breathed in deeply. Tepid sunbeams shone upon the sea of sand. He glanced up. A storm brewed, the sky redder than usual. As Gillian must have learned, Amaranthian storms were extremely dangerous.
Gillian...
He wouldn't think about her...or how he would see her, breathe her in, touch her. Those thoughts would make him harden--well, harder--and Indifference would...what? Puck waited, his ears twitching, but the demon had gone quiet.
Anger coursed through him at the thought of Gillian being bothered by the dark presence. Anger he ignored as he forced his mind on the weather. In winter, hoarfrost covered everything, becoming a metaphor for his life. Spring brought warm days and rampant rains that produced daggerlike hail. In summer, lakes and ponds gradually dried out, and acid occasionally poured from the sky. During fall, the days fluctuated between too hot, too cold and perfect.
He'd returned in the middle of spring.
There was no campsite within sight, and no bodies of water nearby. No one waited nearby with transportation, either.
No matter. He could run.
"You brought my little Gilly Gumdrop to a dump like this?" William demanded.
My Gilly Gumdrop! Mine!
No one had ever tried his legendary patience like this male. How could Gillian stand him? The irreverent bastard complained about everything, took nothing seriously and never under any circumstances missed an opportunity to taunt Puck.
"There is no better realm. And when Gillian is no longer mine, you can take her wherever you'd like." He wouldn't be bothered by it, either. Not in the slightest degree. "If she decides to go with you, of course. Did I forget to tell you? Time passes differently here. I'm guessing five hundred years have passed for my wife. She might have forgotten all about you."
With a hiss, William palmed a dagger and pressed the tip into the pulse at the base of Puck's throat. "You did not just say five--hundred--years."
"I did." He blinked at the male, unfazed by the weapon. "Gillian is now half a millennium old."
Flickers of red in those blue, blue eyes, like rivers of lava cracking the surface of a volcano. "The girl I left better be the girl I find. She was perfect, just the way she was. If the centuries have changed her..."
"You mean you want her to be the girl who chose me over you?" Two could taunt. "In that regard, I'm certain she's the same." A lie. He was certain of nothing.
Another hiss, the blade digging deeper. A bead of blood dribbled down his torso.
"Either strike or back off," Puck said. "Gillian awaits."
A tense pause. Then, with a great show of reluctance, William lifted the dagger.
"This way." Eager, Puck jetted forward.
The other male remained close on his heels. Having a vengeful immortal at his back was foolish, lethally so, but at the moment he didn't exactly care. So close to seeing my wife...
This time, he couldn't push thoughts of her from his mind. How would she react when she spotted him? How would she react when she spotted William?
A sudden and soul-deep ache threatened to rend Puck's chest in two.
"You're wrong, you know," he said. "She wasn't perfect back then. She was afraid of males and intimacy." Although, there at the end, she'd kissed him as if she wanted--needed--more.
Will kiss her again. Will--
William snarled, reminding him of Indifference. "How do you know she was afraid of intimacy?"
He hiked a shoulder in a shrug. "The subject came up."
"As long as it was the only thing that came up," William snapped.
No, William of the Dark. I hardened for her every day we were together. Now I harden for her even when we're apart.
"The abuse she suffered as a child...worse than you can imagine," William said. "And she suffered for years! With no one to help her, she ran away and lived on the streets--because the streets were safer. That is the girl you use against me."
Puck's butterfly tattoo scorched his skin on a downward slide to his leg as he grappled with remorse, with self-loathing so strong he wasn't sure he'd ever be free of it.
"Enough chatter," he croaked. He increased his speed, arms pumping and legs eating up the distance.
William never lagged, a feat few had managed when up against Puck.
When they came upon his camp, he had to do a double take. Tents had been replaced by homes made of stone and wood.
Men meandered about, each dressed in a tunic and sheepskin pants. Fashion hadn't changed, at least. There were no women in sight. No sign of Gillian, or even Winter. The females must be inside the homes, cooking and cleaning.
"How quaint. A sausage fest. My least favorite of all the fests," William said with a dry tone. "If any of these bastards touched my girl--"
"My girl." Puck closed his eyes for a moment and breathed, doing everything in his power to stop the erosion of his control. Not mine. Never mine. He'd chosen vengeance. War over a woman. He would not stray from his path.
Better off alone. No family, no chance of betrayal.
He scanned every face, but found no sign of Cameron, either.
"Where is she?" William demanded.
"I will find out." Puck approached a man who sat in front of a roasting coinin. Cooking? A duty usually performed by females. Except when those females were vegetarian, and made bargains with their husbands, of course. "You."
The man glanced over at him, and darted to his feet, eyes going wide. "My lord. You're back."
"Where is my wife? For that matter, where are Cameron and Winter?" He was--not impatient, but close to it; he was ready to read the detailed history Cameron had written, and find out everything that had happened in his absence.
The color drained fro
m the other male's cheeks. "She...they...they all moved, my lord. Took all our women with them."
A fresh surge of fury radiated from William as he sidled next to Puck. "He didn't ask you what they'd done. He asked you where they were. Answer!"
"Do not intimidate my subjects," Puck snapped. To the man, he said, "I didn't ask you what they'd done. I asked you where they were."
The man gulped and pulled at the collar of his tunic. "To the east, my lord. They're part of a new clan. One that raids other camps, kills soldiers and steals magic. They've caused a war between...everyone."
Things had gotten worse since his departure, not better?
"My good mood is deteriorating at a rapid rate," William said, his tone nothing but menace. "Either someone produces Gillian, or I--"
"Will throw a tantrum," Puck interjected. "Yes, I know. Instead, why don't you do what you do best and screw anything with a pulse. I'll hunt for my wife and figure out what's going on."
*