“So it was Sebastian out there the entire time,” he murmured. “I suspected as much, though I did not want to believe it. It had been years since he last returned to the monastery, and then all of a sudden there was a mist barrier hemming us in through which we could not seem to penetrate. No one could get in.”
“You should have sent for help. There are many other necromancers who learned their craft right here who could have dealt with this long before I arrived.” She paused and regarded him with curiosity. “How long was it going on?”
“About three months,” he sighed as he bent over and righted his chair. “We were nearly desperate as our stores have begun to dwindle. I tried to confront him myself, but he refused to show himself, just hiding in that mist. That was when I first suspected that the lich we caught glimpses of was him. It was a trick that Sebastian was always good at. As for other necromancers… I sent word to those whom I thought were best equipped to help, but those who responded were months away yet. I’ve only recently begun to try to call back any who might be closer. And then there was you… but I felt your return through the resurrection compulsion.” His gaze returned to Ashul. “This is all very unexpected, but I assume that this male assisted in taking out the lich?”
“I did,” Ashul confirmed, his voice as icy as an arctic slope.
The Grandmaster’s brow furrowed. “Do you seek some reward, drow? Name how we might show our appreciation.”
Ashul’s eyes narrowed on him with consideration. “There is something, but first we would just like to conclude all of this.” Her mate’s worried gaze turned toward her. “She has not been well and suffered needlessly from this compulsion.” Every word ground out of him, hissed from between his teeth.
If the Grandmaster felt threatened by it, he did not show it though he did frown thoughtfully as he fished a pair of spectacles out of his vest’s breast pocket that was visible in the parting of his robes. With a sniff, he set them on his nose and peered intently at them.
“Of course,” he murmured. “The removal of the compulsion is a simple thing. She must have retrieved you from some distance away to have progressed to this stage if this is due to the compulsion as you say.”
The Grandmaster walked forward, his fingers rising to a spot just in front of her brow. They pinched inward as if plucking a spiderweb from her face. Magic washed over her, and she felt a distinct pulling and plucking sensation, numerous threads unraveling behind her eyes, under her tongue, and from the farthest, deepest parts of her mind. It all slipped away, and with it all the torment the call had given her like silk lifting free from her skin. It left a crawling sensation on her face, but she resisted the urge to smack at the invisible spiders scurrying over her cheeks. Instead, she watched as the Grandmaster began to pat the sides of his robes.
“Now for the next part. I should have a proper vessel to secure him to, around here somewhere,” he muttered. “I suspect he might like the underground tunnels that connect to the crypt. They won’t be quite the same as the underground sanctuaries of their kind, but it would be a good start.”
“That will not be necessary,” Ashul interjected as he stepped in closer to her as if afraid that the Grandmaster might try to have him separated from her and caged within the tombs.
The Grandmaster glanced up in surprise, and Robyn smiled. “He means to say that he has a better location in mind far from humans.”
“That is most irregular, Robyn,” the Grandmaster said warily. “We always have necromancers oversee the relocation of the dead. A drow elf—a warrior at that—will take a bit more consideration for everyone’s safety.”
“I plan to take him,” she replied, and his eyebrows climbed higher.
“That is not what I meant at all,” Ashul cut in with a growl. “I do not wish to be severed from my necromancer. Leave the bond intact.”
Robyn’s eyes flew to him in shock. “But… your freedom. I promised. And besides, if anything should happen to me—if I died—you would—”
“Have no reason to live any longer,” he interrupted, his face softening. He gently brushed the side of her cheek with his knuckles. “I have bound you to me in every way that a drow can, but this leash of yours, it is what connects me to you as much as my venom and blood. The moment you die, I swear I will not want for anything more than to follow right after you.”
She blinked at him, her eyes feeling strangely wet. “You are certain?”
A smile curled his lips. “I would not mind continuing whatever delicious torments we devise into the next world and picking up some new ones while we are there.”
She laughed and grabbed his hand. “Okay, we can do that.”
“Am I to understand that you… mated… your resurrection?” the Grandmaster sputtered in horror.
Ashul smiled lazily, but she felt his muscles stiffen in the places where they pressed into her side.
“And that brings me to what I want for relieving you of your lich.” His smile dropped, and his face hardened. “I want Robyn. The Dark Ones led her to me, and I claimed her as mine as irrevocably as I was already hers. I wish to spend my life with my mate in peace. You can keep your gold and any other favor you might have offered. Robyn is all I desire.”
The Grandmaster gaped and glanced at her in confusion. “Robyn, are you certain that this is what you want? The drow are not like humans, and he is—”
“Entirely devoted to me,” she finished with a hard smile. “Trust me, Grandmaster, you would rather have him occupied with me than trying to find ways to amuse himself… or venting his anger for that matter.”
A lascivious grin spread across Ashul’s face, and the Grandmaster sighed.
“For the record, I am not intimidated by the threats of your drow, but I would prefer to live my remaining years watching over my students here with some semblance of peace, so I am willing to overlook your transgression in order to see the wisdom of your request. Consider it done,” he grumbled. “Just see to it that your resurrection stays out of trouble.” A concerned paternal look crossed face. “And take care of yourself. You will always have a place here if you need to get away from him a bit.”
Ashul snarled, but Robyn grinned up at her mate as she leaned into his side. “Of course,” she murmured. “I can’t imagine a better way to spend the rest of my days than be thoroughly loved by my mate.”
He smirked wickedly down at her and leaned down, brushing his lips against her ear to whisper a dark promise of what future awaited them in the sylvan woods. Arousal flooded her, but it was her heart that felt his whispered promise and the full extent of his love. Though the world sank into slumber and the old year died, it felt like a new beginning—a new life that had just begun.
Epilogue