Alterant (Belador #2)(28)

He’d never considered how a goddess could turn eternity into a living nightmare.

Brina lifted her gaze to where Macha now lounged above the giant stone mantel that spanned a fireplace two brawny warriors could stand inside. Waves of tawny hair spun with sunlight floated past Macha’s bare shoulders and covered the arm she was using to prop herself up. Today she wore a dazzling white gown created with thousands of perfect pearls. She turned her luminous hazel green gaze downward toward the fireplace grate and logs appeared. Flames blazed to life.

Macha’s attempt at being hospitable.

Or she was in one of her decorating moods.

Brina appreciated the gesture, but she would not accept being reduced to the level of a child. “Wee ones sulk. I am contemplative.”

“Ah, yes, semantics, as mortals like to say.” Macha waved long fingers glittering with jewels and rare metals carved in intricate designs.

“I’m glad you’ve come by,” Brina replied. The only reaction she received was a glint of curiosity in Macha’s eyes.

Brina went on. “I feel it’s time we discussed an heir.”

Macha brightened at what had to be an unexpected topic. “I have been so patient, allowing you to adjust to this life.”

Is that what Macha thinks I’ve been doing for the past four years in this place? Adjusting?

Brina forced her hands to remain at ease and not flinch with anger. She’d learned long ago that showing any emotion handed the goddess ammunition to use at a later time. Not that Macha was a cruel or unfair goddess, but like all deities she used everything within her power to get her way.

“Why must you keep this place so gloomy?” Macha glanced around the room.

Candles flickered to life, dancing soft light against the stone walls. A wicker basket filled with dried flowers and spices appeared on the smooth wooden table her father had crafted with his own hands, right down to the inlaid Belador Triquetra emblem. Her father had sat on that stout table facing her the last night they’d spoken.

Six nights later, Macha had informed Brina that her father and brothers were dead and that Brina could not leave the castle. Some memories were best left unbidden.

The goddess kept dabbling until the room changed from dark and lonely to toasty and . . . suspicious.

Watching Macha decorate picked at Brina’s limited patience.

When Macha spoke, her vibrant voice smoked through the room with purpose. “I’m pleased to find you ready to do your duty to secure the future of the Beladors.”

As if I have ever shirked my duty to the tribe. “Do allow me to point out their future is why I’m here. Every. Day. Forever.”

And alone, because Macha professed she could not remove the cursed warding.

Macha made a clicking sound of reprimand. “Insolence is unattractive, unproductive and . . . unwise.”

Not like she’s going to kill me, but she could make life more miserable than it is, though that would be hard to imagine. “My apologies.”

The goddess stared up as if studying the cathedral-high ceilings, then lowered an unreadable gaze. “I know you’re lonely here and we must continue your family dynasty.” She smiled. “Marriage would be good for you.”

Brina couldn’t prevent the sudden joy that flooded her face. Had she gotten lucky enough to catch the goddess on one of her more benevolent days? Macha knew who Brina wanted, the man she craved every waking hour. “I completely agree and—”

“You will choose a mortal Belador to wed, one who can enter the castle.”

Stunned, Brina lowered her bare feet to the rug-covered floor and stood, all ability to shield her emotions gone in the face of what Macha was suggesting.

Not suggesting. Ordering.

Brina said softly, “You know Tzader and I have been practically betrothed since childhood. He is the only man I want.”

The only man she’d ever loved.

“I’m sorry, but I cannot deliver you Tzader,” Macha said with such heartfelt sadness that Brina was tempted to believe her.

But facing the loss of the only person she wanted, the one person she lived for, caused her to speak without guarding her words. “Who can? Is there one more powerful than you?”

The air crackled with sparks of electricity, a prelude to real anger from Macha that could make the heavens plead for peace. “Stop longing for what you cannot have and act as an adult! As an immortal, Tzader can never pass through this warding.”

“He could if you would help us.”

“I gave my promise to uphold the warding around this castle and to assure Tzader’s immortality indefinitely. You expect me to break vows to both of your fathers?”

Brina should tone down her words, but she couldn’t. “I’m asking why you can’t right a wrong. Or won’t. Our fathers had no idea what they were doing to us. My da would never have created a ward that barred Tzader from the castle. He didn’t know Tzader’s father was going to ask you to pass his immortality to his son if he died fighting alongside my father and his men. And nobody expected our families would be wiped from the earth that day.”

Except maybe Macha.

Had she helped her da place this ward?

Brina hoped to never find out any of that was true.

Macha shrugged her indifference. “True, but it changes nothing. You will produce an heir in one year—”