Luckily, I was not the first. A precedence had been set millennia ago. I was one of the gods to bestow the punishment at the time. It was only fitting that I received the same. Balance. The scales must always be balanced.”
“Virtual imprisonment? You weren’t hurt?” Mordecai pushed for clarification, his mind reeling.
“For every year I harboured the new life force, I would serve double that time in isolation behind the veil. No more interference in the world I helped create. No more answering the prayers of the beings I was charged with protecting and maintaining nature. Nor those of the ones born with the birthright to guard them. I could watch, and I could listen, but I could not act. It was a prison with no walls – yet with surround sound.” She shuddered, gripping his arms tighter. “But I did hurt, Mordecai. More than you can imagine.”
Mordecai tightened his arms and legs, practically squishing her but she didn’t protest. Instead they sat in silence and watched as the last orange glow of the sun disappeared from the sky and was replaced with a blanket of dark blue. Soon the sky would be black and millions of stars would be visible to the naked eye. He rocked the woman in his arms and held her as she cried, and he wondered how he could have ever thought her cold or unfeeling. She felt so much – too much. She was like Max, a sponge for energy everywhere, but unlike Max, who now had her large Order to share her burden with, Dana had no one. She’d had no one for several eternities. Mordecai vowed then and there to do better by her and just like that, he let go of his final feelings of resentment and angst.
Gently tilting her face up, he wiped her wet cheeks tenderly. “We should head in. What little warmth the sun provided is gone now that it is set,” he whispered.
Dana maintained eye contact, her mouth quirking a little. “Oh, I can fix that,” she promised.
Heat wafted off Dana like she was a damn heater, filling the small space between them and infusing him with warmth. He huffed out a breath, telling himself he should have known better. The woman was a goddess of nature. She controlled all the elements just like Max. “If you could do that, why didn’t you do it before?”
Dana pulled out of his arms, turning to face him fully even as she remained seated between his upraised knees. “And why would I deny myself the pleasure of your arms?”
His amusement fled, sexual tension taking its place. He watched her lick her lips as her eyes darted to his mouth and knew she was thinking of the kiss they had shared earlier that evening. He wanted nothing more than to lay her back against the sand and ravish her. But he knew that wouldn’t be wise given the circumstances. He may have let go of his negative feelings toward her, but his mind was still reeling with all the new information and the revelations it brought. Dana had been a virtual prisoner for years. She had been trapped and helpless to watch as her daughter struggled to find her destiny. And all the while Mordecai – and hundreds of other wardens and paladins – had cursed her name. It was true, Max had sacrificed herself for their people. But so had Dana. The one-eighty of his feelings needed time to process.
Dana, clearly sensing his reticence, pulled back. “I apologise. I didn’t mean to take liberties where they were not welcome.”
Mordecai stopped her with a hand over her mouth. “Dana, let’s be clear; I’m fine with you taking all manner of liberties, okay? I just think we shouldn’t indulge in them right now. On the beach. With over a dozen pairs of eyes watching us,” he finished dryly.
Dana’s eyes darted to the house and she giggled when she saw numerous faces pressed to the windows. The sound was innocent and carefree and had Mordecai hardening in his pants faster than he could blink. Groaning, he reached down to adjust himself, Dana’s eyes tracking the movement. “You’re not helping,” he informed her.
“If you really want my help …” she licked her lips once more.
“Dana,” he said, warningly.
Dana shrugged and smiled impishly at him. “You cannot blame a girl for trying.”
Chapter Ten
“Father Time is responsible for the fabric of reality. Tempus not only constructed this reality, but he also maintains it. Tanda, on