Lights of Aurora (The Stone Legacy Series Book 3) (9 page)

Luckily Arwan had gotten a head start and was just zipping up their stuffed packs. She walked to his side and handed him the phone. “We have to get back to Moscow.”

He turned to Drina. “We’ll bring you with us if you want. You’re a long way from home.”

“People do not belong in t’e sky. I will get home on my own, just as I got here.”

It was rude to have to take off so quickly, especially after Drina had helped them so much, but Zanya didn’t have a choice. There was no telling what kind of condition Jayden would be in. Even with Peter healing him.

A soft growl rumbled in front of her. It almost sounded like a purr, but there were no house cats in the jungle. Just big ones, with teeth and claws.

Her stomach dropped, and she slowly lifted her head to see a jaguar pacing in front of her. Its tail flickered in the air, ears pinned back with its eyes locked on her.

The jaguar stalked low to the ground as if she were prey. Running wouldn’t do any good. Screaming might just piss it off. She held her pack in front of her like a shield if it charged.

Arwan rested his hand on her shoulder, and the jaguar’s muscles flexed under its speckled fur. He took several steps closer to the animal and then knelt on one knee.

Zanya’s jaw dropped. “What are you doing?” she whispered harshly. “Are you nuts?” She secured her grip on her pack.

As if he had been brought in front of royalty, Arwan bowed his head in silence.

Chapter Eleven

Arwan

Arwan continued to kneel, as his people had done for generations before him when in front of one of the greatest Mayan deities.

The flapping of wings caught his ear, and he dared lift his gaze to see a white owl landing on a low-hanging tree branch. The bird examined him, though it was no ordinary bird.

The large cat circled them like a shark in murky waters. Arwan didn’t want Zanya to be afraid. She had no idea this jaguar—the one she’d undoubtedly spotted before they arrived at the cave, was in fact Balam—the underworld jaguar who roamed the middleworld freely. Unlike the other underworld deities, Balam was not inherently evil.

The owl launched from the branch and spread its massive white wings, catching the jungle breeze, and exposing the bird’s stark-white chest. Before it touched the ground, its wings morphed into a robe of shimmering feathers, and its face changed into the striking features of a woman.

Her feet rested gracefully on the ground, and she stood in front of them, silent and statuesque.

Cualli’s robe of soft, down plumage draped over her milky skin, barely covering her breasts and thighs. Her long legs were shamelessly bare, as were her lean arms and the curves of her torso.

The goddess trailed her delicate fingers over Balam’s back.

His ears twitched at every jungle sound. Balam huffed.

“Forgive Balam.” Cualli’s voice carried through the air like a song. Her skin shimmered like a sea of diamonds and flowers bloomed through the moss where she stood. With every step forward, more moss sprouted to cushion the bottoms of her bare feet, as if the earth wouldn’t allow her skin to touch the gritty ground.

Cualli paused beside him, spilling her radiant energy over him. She was bound to sense the dark core of his being; there was nothing he could do mask it. Cualli’s lips curved into a faint smile. “I see.” She continued past Zanya to Drina, who hadn’t moved or spoken. Cualli’s now-f smile was as white as freshly fallen snow. The goddess rested her hand on Drina’s shoulder. “Thank you for caring for them.”

Drina bowed her head.

Cualli turned and tilted her head, examining Zanya. Waves of hair spilled over her chest and neck. “Why does the guardian not speak?”

“Uh…” Zanya’s gaze darted between Drina and Arwan, but neither of them intervened.

Zanya was in fact the guardian, and this introduction to Cualli would be the first of many. At some point he would be forced to allow Zanya to make her own way. This was a good place to start.

Cualli held her hand out to Zanya, who hesitated at first, and then rested her hand in goddess’. “Nice to meet you.” Zanya’s voice trembled.

Arwan watched Balam’s reaction. The cat flicked its ear and chuffed with approval.

He had never laid eyes on Cualli. Until this point, she was merely a name in the ancient folklore passed down through the generations. The story of her conception and deliverance to the middleworld was legendary, and one he’d shared with Zanya when they were in Belize. But to see her and Balam, still together after so many years, was like laying eyes on a relic.

“Come, outcast of outcasts. Come beside me.” It took a moment for Arwan to realize Cualli was speaking to him. He did as instructed, and as he walked toward her, Balam followed by his side. The jaguar bared its teeth and let out a low growl, as if warning Arwan not to be a threat. When Arwan reached the goddess, Balam flicked his tail and stood between them, creating just enough distance to ensure her safety.

“Have faith, Balam.” Cualli dragged her fingers down the cat’s back. The jaguar arched his spine and purred, then lay at her feet, still keeping a close watch. “What I find here is a unique sight indeed.” Cualli took Arwan’s hand. Her bright energy sparked against his dark nature. “How do you keep your heart noble, outcast of outcasts?”

Arwan frowned. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

“That is what you are, is it not?”

He glanced at Zanya standing beside him. She seemed too entranced with Cualli to really consider her words. “I don’t know.”

“I do.” Cualli smiled brightly, the warmth of her gaze washing over him. He admired her blonde hair, which glowed like the first light of dawn, and the way her robe never shifted out of place as she moved. It seemed as though it should have fallen from its precarious place on her shoulders.

She let Arwan’s hand slip away, then reached out and traced the lines of her emblem hung around Zanya’s neck. “I made it myself, from newly budded branches of a willow tree.” Cualli’s irises glittered like a sea of blue. Staring into her eyes was like peering into the universe—endless and beautiful. The longer he searched, the more secrets Cualli’s gaze withheld. The entire history of mankind seemed to be pooled in one place, just out of his reach.

There was so much about his heritage Arwan didn’t know, even after the years he’d spent with Renato. He had only himself to blame. He had spent so long denying his lineage. The wealth of his Mayan ancestry was uncultivated land. It was time to acknowledge it again. Perhaps even embrace it.

Cualli looked down at Balam, the subtle movement snapping Zanya out of her entrancement. The jaguar grunted, stood, and pinned back its ears with a low growl. Cualli let go of Arwan’s hand and stepped away, sprouting more moss and flowers beneath her feet. Balam butted his head against Cualli’s leg, and in return, she scratched between his ears.

“Balam does not like to be in his human form often. He is my protector and has watched over me from the time I was left on this earth. If you have need of him, Balam will be your protector as well.”

The cat’s jaws gaped in a deep yawn, and then blinked at Zanya, as if waiting for her response.

“Uh…” Zanya shifted her weight. “I don’t want to take your guardian away from you. You may need him.” The cat propped its head on the goddess’s leg. “He seems to be pretty attached to you.”

The curves of Cualli’s rose-tinted lips curled into a smile. “I have been watching you. If you are in need, call on me.” She rested her hand on Zanya’s shoulder. “Your life, young one, is a path never traveled. It will be difficult but full of discovery and adventure.” She glanced at Arwan. “Perhaps even love.” Her focus shifted to the necklace one last time before she slipped her hand from Zanya’s shoulder and turned to Arwan. “As our people say, ‘
Yu’um bootik
.’”

“May the gods go with you.” They were words he hadn’t whispered for years.

“Come, Balam. We have flowers to care for and crops to tend to. The humans need us.” With her robe extended, Cualli morphed into her owl form and took flight.

The owl soared through a gap in the branches, and Balam followed her shadow into the jungle. The jaguar stopped and glanced back at Arwan. With a deep growl, he turned and vanished into the foliage.

Drina hobbled to Arwan’s, her pitiful stare boring into him. His entire body was rigid. He ran his fingers through his hair, and without another word, snatched his backpack off the ground.

After so many years of trying to pretend, he had no choice but to face the truth. He was, in fact, the outcast of outcasts.
That
he could never outrun.

“Let’s go.” He slung his pack over his shoulder. “We should get back to Renato.”

Zanya took her pack, her other hand still clinging to Cualli’s pendant. Arwan pressed a kiss on Drina’s cheek.

The old woman gave him a tiny smile, then crinkled her nose and shooed him away. “Stop with your foolishness.” She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand.

He grinned, though the sadness in his heart overwhelmed him.

Chapter Twelve

Arwan led Zanya over the thin game path toward the village. Neither of them had said a word the entire hike. He was grateful for the silence. It had given him time to think. Zanya seemed to understand he needed that, even though she probably had a dozen questions burning on the tip of her tongue. He had some explaining to do, but the last thing he wanted was to hurt her. She deserved to know who he was. It was now or never.

Arwan slowed to a stop and heard her pulse quicken from where he stood. “I promised I would tell you everything. And I will. Right now, on our way back to the village. There’s a lot to tell. Try to keep pace so we don’t miss our bus.”

She fell in pace beside him and followed him deeper into the jungle.

“I was born of a union between realms. The underworld and Riyata.” Arwan’s throat went dry. This was the first time he had acknowledged his bloodlines for as long as he could remember. The words put a bitter taste in his mouth. “I’m a hybrid. A fuse of bloodlines none of the realms have ever seen.”

“I thought the two realms were enemies?”

“They are, but my mother was seduced.” His stomach clenched, and he swallowed a growing lump in his throat. “Or to be more accurate, raped. I was ten years old when Sarian delivered her to her death.”

This wasn’t the first time he’d spoke about Sarian’s role in the loss of his mother, though he’d never been clear on who was actually responsible for taking her from this world. When he was ready, he’d tell her that part of the story.

“I wasn’t there to save her.” He swallowed. “When she left me in Belize, she didn’t try to hide what was happening. She told me she was never coming back. At the time I didn’t understand what she meant. I thought maybe she would change her mind. I was convinced she’d miss me enough—” The words caught in his throat.

He dared not look back at Zanya as he spoke. His shame was too heavily draped over his shoulders, weighing him down more with every word.

“Just before she sent me away, my mother said something I’ll never forget. She said I was special, and someday, after many years of struggling and a lifetime of pain, I would understand how my existence would change the world, but until then, I needed to trust her and trust Renato. Take knowledge from his teaching. And most of all, when the time came, for me not to be afraid.”

“Who told you what happened?” Her fingers were laced as she cradled her stone to her chest.

She must have needed comfort, but that was something he couldn’t give her anymore.

He faced forward and pushed harder over the trail. “Drina. The middleword gods have been involved long before now. Or so Drina told me. She has been in touch with them since before I was born. She was the new priestess when my mother left. My mother’s death saddened the gods enough to hand-deliver the message to her.”

The gods were strange in their ways. They had been linked with Drina for centuries, yet today was the first time he’d laid eyes on Cualli and Balam. They’d waited so many years to show themselves. What had changed? Perhaps it was Sarian’s death, or maybe something more than that. Perhaps it was Zanya.

“That’s an honor, though, right? Your mom must have been more important than you realize.”

He didn’t acknowledge her words. Not because she was wrong, but he couldn’t. Not without being brought to his knees. “We buried her near the sacred remains of an ancient ruin, far from Renato’s home.”

He’d have to go back once they returned to Belize, to pay his respects. Perhaps he would bring Zanya with him. It would be the first time anyone besides him, Drina, or Renato visited her grave.

“After my mother was gone, I spent my days with Drina and evenings with Renato, learning Maya legend and modern history. When I first sensed the darkness within me…” His voice softened and he slowed his pace. “I was relieved. Relieved my mother wasn’t there to see me. See the monster I’d become.”

“You can’t be angry at yourself for who you are, Arwan.”

She had no idea who he was. Not really.

“As a boy I vowed when the time came, I would kill Sarian and avenge my mother’s death, even if that meant losing my life in the process.” He touched the fading scar over his wrist. Even if it healed completely, he would never forget his blood sacrifice to gain entrance into the underworld. It would have killed him if Zanya weren’t there to heal the wounds.

“Wait.” She skipped a few steps ahead and caught up to him. “So you’ve kept all of this from me because you were afraid I wouldn’t care about you anymore?”

He stopped and hung his head. “I know you may feel different about me now. I will always be damned. I have no hope for anything more than that. The darkness I’m made of is always ready and willing to take over. I don’t know what it means for my future, but I’ll be in the underworld after I die.”

Zanya stopped walking, crossed her arms, and pushed out her chin. “What do you mean, ‘take over’?” I’ve never seen you do anything to even insinuate you’re…damned, or whatever you want to believe. You’ve always protected me and sided with Renato against the people who killed my mom. You’re one of the good guys.”

He stopped on the path and flexed his arms, unable to hide the tension winding his muscles. “Jayden. I could have killed him when he kissed you. I almost did. To this day I can’t tell you exactly what happened. It was the first time in more years than I can remember that my dark side broke through. I just lost it. Everything fogged over and I saw red. I wanted to tear him off you and then tear him apart.” He looked her in the eyes. “Is that the kind of man you want to be with, Zanya? The kind of guy who can snap at any moment and hurt people?” He worked his jaw, then looked away.

“Well, you didn’t kill him, and, okay, so I was a little busy having a panic attack at the moment, but you have to remember that you let him go.” She rested her hand on his chest, and his heart jumped under her touch. “You
let him go
.” She pulled away, leaving his skin cold. “He was being a Grade A asshole. You
can
control it—this darkness you’re talking about. Otherwise Jay would have been dead long before Sarian—” She blinked and shook her head. “I don’t even know if he’s okay, and here I am talking shit about him.” She scoffed. “I’m some friend.” She exhaled and slipped her backpack off, letting it fall to the ground.

Arwan softened his gaze. “I went with you because I know how much he means to you, and I couldn’t live seeing you so heartbroken.”

“I know.” She exhaled and rolled her shoulders, craning her neck side to side. “And I appreciate that.”

“And…” He ran his fingers through his hair, building the courage to say the words he had to say, even though every cell of his being protested against it. “I’ve been thinking. Perhaps I have been selfish. He may be different from the man I would have chosen for you.”

“And who’s that, exactly?” Zanya watched him intently.

She really was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Long, dark hair and full lips. Wolf-gray eyes. Like some kind of dream made into reality as a reward for some noble conquest he’d never completed. Cualli may be a goddess, but even she paled in comparison to Zanya’s bravery, humor, and beauty. For the rest of his days he would compare every woman to her, and for the rest of his days he’d live unsatisfied and lonely.

“I’d choose someone who would do anything to make you happy. Someone who would wake up and ask himself how he was going to make you smile. Someone who would listen to you. Find the things you love the most and surround you with them. Understand your heartache—no, take it away. And when he can’t make it vanish, wish it were his own to bear.” Arwan’s eyebrows knitted together. “Someone who would walk beside you with a firm hold but a gentle touch. A man who was always there, but never drowned you in his own pride.”

A tear streaked down Zanya’s cheek.

Arwan reached out and wiped it away. His fingers lingered on her skin for a moment, and he pulled back. “But Jayden does care for you, and in some ways, he is better for you. Riyata are enlightened. He can give you things I can’t. A long, happy life, both here and in the hereafter.”

***

Zanya

Zanya narrowed her eyes and a fire sparked inside her. “Excuse me? Did you just try to tell me who I should choose to be with?”

“I’m just saying that in the future, you may wish you chose him instead.”

“And who the hell are you to tell me something like that?” Her palms broke out in a cold sweat, and her blood rushed so fast she could hear it in her ears. It took everything she had to not spark an electricity ball in her hand and blast him into the bushes. Now that her stone was hers again, it wouldn’t be hard.

“You are the one I want. And I’ll be damned if you’re going to sit here and tell me I made a mistake.” She braced her hands on her hips. “Furthermore, I
am
pissed you didn’t tell me about your
dark side
.” She quoted the words in the air with her fingers. “Like you’re freakin’ Luke Skywalker or something. Who your parents are doesn’t determine if you’re a good person. If that were the case, half the world would be totally screwed. So don’t you dare say I’m wrong to want to be with you, because if that’s what you’re saying, then…” Tears filled her eyes—more out of anger than sadness, but if she were honest with herself, it was a whole lot of both. “Then…well, damn it, you don’t have a choice.”

She threw her arms around him and kissed him.

Arwan worked his fingers through her hair. His breath was as hot as fire against her skin, and if it were up to her, she would submit to the heat and let it consume them both.

He ran his hands down her ass to the back of her thighs and lifted her off the ground. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing herself against his chest. He stepped forward and pinned her back against the smooth bark of a tree.

Electricity crawled over her skin and surrounded them both in a warm blanket of her energy.

He broke their kiss and pressed his forehead against hers. “This can’t be possible.” His words came out in a rasped whisper. “How can you still want me?” His grip on her waist tightened. “I won’t ever be like you. I’m damned. I’m someone I don’t want to be. Something—”

“Just stop. Please.” There was no way she would believe the man cradling her against his body was evil. “I don’t care how it changes you. The guy I know is the guy I want to be with, half-underworlder or not.
You’re
the one I want.”

He kissed her again. Her energy sparked and buzzed over their bodies. His lips curved into a grin. “You were right.” He nibbled her bottom lip, and she let out a tiny moan.

He pressed his body against her, pinning her tighter against the tree. His firm muscles awoke her senses, making him all she saw, tasted, or touched in that moment. Being so close to him was an overload of sensations, and she wouldn’t want it any other way.

“How can you keep torturing me like this?”

He chuckled. “The first time I saw your energy crawl over you like that, you said it tickled. You’re right.” He kissed the curve of her jaw. “It does.”

His tongue parted her lips, and Zanya’s heart skipped. He held her there as if she were as light as a feather.

The loud flapping of wings tore through the air. Zanya pushed against his chest and broke their kiss, then searched the treetops. A colorful parrot skipped along a thick branch. It grabbed hold of a fruit, and then took flight again.

“For a second there I thought it was…” Zanya’s eyes grew wide. “Oh my God. Cualli.”

“What about her?”

“She could be watching…like, right now.” She slapped his shoulder lightly. “Put me down. Put me down.” She squirmed until her feet touched the ground. “Cualli said she’s been watching us, and we’re still on her home turf.”

“
Turf
?” He grinned.

“Oh shut up. You know what I mean.” Her cheeks flushed with heat. “This is so humiliating.”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her into him. “It’s humiliating to be seen with me?”

Wow. His eyes were so amazing. Dark and searching…longing, and still somehow a little sad. “No.” Heat spread through her body so fiercely, she could have combusted into flames. This whole solstice thing was torture. Cruel, inhuman torture. She cleared her throat. “Of course I’m not embarrassed to be seen with you. But do you feel comfortable knowing her and that jaguar, Balam, could be watching us? I mean, I don’t.”

Arwan pressed a kiss on her forehead. “Zanya, when I told you I’m patient, I meant it.” He picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “No rush.” He scooped up her pack and slipped it over his other shoulder, his muscles flexing under the weight. “Come on. The village is only about a mile away.”