When Anastasia stepped out of the portal, she stole Áine's breath. Her baby had grown into a woman. All that she thought she would tell her upon meeting, all the things that she had imagined, crumbled like paper. And those thoughts got soaked rapidly by the tears that fell from her eyes. She got up from the log, her eyes wide, her breath lodged in her throat and her heart melting. Before she could draw in the air her body needed, she was near her daughter, looking in her eyes that were just like her father's. "Ana…" she murmured her name.
Anastasia stared at her mother. It was so long that she remembered her youthful face. Those beautiful green and blue eyes and the golden silken hair that fell below her waist. Now that face was pale, there were dark circles under those beautiful eyes and weathered lines fanned across. She closed her eyes and the next she found herself in her arms. "Mother…" she said in a shaky voice, as Áine drew her closer. The two shuddered, crying, because they couldn't speak, crying because they could never make up for the time they missed with each other, crying because they wanted to make up for the eight years when they were not there for each other..
When Anastasia tried to speak, her words were unintelligible croaks. She wanted to say that she loved her, but all that came out was a wail. The emotions that swirled inside of her, eddied and she simply couldn't put a stopper to them.
Áine pulled away from her. Through the tears, she smiled and wiped her daughter's tears. "Come Ana, your father is waiting for you."
It took them three days to reach Vilinski and when they reached, Anastasia found that the whole kingdom had erupted into some sort of celebration. In those three days, she had talked and talked and talked with her mother. They touched every subject. In those three days, Áine made sure that her pregnant daughter was carefully looked after. She had brought a large number of servants with her.
King Ian Aramaer was waiting for his wife and daughter at the palace gardens. Anastasia noticed that her father looked like an aged version of herself. It was just that his face was masculine—high cheekbones, deep blue eyes, muscular, well-built body trained like a warrior. There were laughter lines around his eyes. As soon as he saw her, he outstretched his arms for her, and Anastasia ran right into them.
"Father!" she pressed against his broad chest and sniffed his familiar misty scent.
His face split into a grin as he suppressed his tears. But it was useless because they still rolled out. Seeing his daughter after such a long gap was the moment he thought was earth shattering. He pulled away and then cupped her cheeks in his hands. "My Ana," he said. "My little baby." He wanted to lift her up and swirl her around like he used to, but she was pregnant and that changed a lot of things. "Yule is in two weeks, and you are not going anywhere," he said, his heart racing wildly. He had finally reunited with his daughter. "I will not let you go anywhere, do you understand?"
Anastasia laughed. She nuzzled in her father's chest. "I am not going anywhere!" Her mother had come by their side and hugged her from behind.
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Draoidh was like a dry spell. Ileus didn't know what to do. For three days, he tossed and turned in his bed, he trained with soldiers and sent them flying, he sparred with his opponents in the illegal rings of the lower level and for three days he drank as if he had never drunk before. He was cranky as hell and didn't talk to his friends or his parents. Right now, he was drunk to his eyes and he was looking at his opponent in the cage.
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His opponent, a werewolf, was one of the former prisoners in the cells of Silver Vales. He was Lila's lover—the same Lila who had died at his wife's hands. He loved her and allowed her to fuck him anytime she called him. He used to call Ileus' name every time she fucked him, but it didn't bother him because even though she called his name, she was always with him. So what if she was addicted? So what if she chained him when she fucked him? He loved her and he would get shackled by her a thousand more times. But Lila was dead. The love of his life was dead and he sought revenge. He wanted to kill him and make Anastasia feel the same agony he felt after she was gone. His trainer was tying rags on his calloused palms and whispering strategies.
On this side of the ring, Kaizan was berating his friend. "You have gone insane!"
Ileus took a swig of whiskey out of his canteen. She hadn't even asked him to come with her. He had become like a shell when she wasn't there for a month. Those four weeks were like hell. Didn't she understand it? "Maybe," he replied to Kaizan.
"You can never beat that hulk in your condition. Withdraw!" Kaizan barked.
"Never," Ileus said as he stared at his opponent.
"That man has killed two men in the past one week, crippled two more for life and I have heard that he is the best around here," he grated. "People place bets on him—high bets!"
"Increase the money on me," Ileus said and drank the remaining whiskey from his canteen. He couldn't for the world understand as to why she didn't come back with him to Draoidh. He would have taken her to her parents—for two days. He had elaborate plans for them. He wanted to take her for their much-awaited honeymoon. Damn he wanted to show her the world.
"Ileus, you have a death-wish?" Kaizan now shouted. "Come out!"
"No." He rubbed his naked chest and shoved the canteen in Kaizan's hand. His black leather pants were already sliced from several places from the previous fight. Blood flowed from his cheeks and right temple.
His opponent rose and as he walked to the center of the ring, he rolled his shoulders, his neck, which snapped with every rotation and then stared like a vulture at him.
Oh, it was going to be fun killing him. Ileus rose from his place and walked to the center. He faced the hulk who was no taller than him. And his oil and sweat slicked body was disgusting. There were too many scars on his chest and his arms. Ileus narrowed his gaze on his opponent. The referee raised his hand and then put it down immediately and rushed out of the cage. The crowd erupted in whoops and bawdy cheers.
His opponent circled him and murmured, "For you Lila." His first punch came right in front of Ileus' eyes, which was dodged effectively. The man didn't stop and hurled a volley of punches at him one after the other. Ileus deflected them and then got bored. His neck corded with strain as he shouted at the man, "Is that all you have, bastard?" And the next punch that landed was right on his left cheek. Ileus staggered, and coughed out blood. He spat blood on the floor and smiled. The pain—he loved it.
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