back to Beyden and Jasminka. Dana was glad the two had resolved their feelings for each other, knowing they had been destined to meet even before their births. But sometimes destiny wasn’t enough, and choices accompanied by actions often forged new paths. She was relieved to see these two had not travelled down different roads because Max was going to need them – need all of them. Or rather, Max’s daughter was.
Max had only been partially correct when she had said her babe was a goddess. The little girl was half life paladin and half custodian in corporeal form. The resulting child – Dana’s granddaughter – was destined to be the first of her kind.
A Spirit Goddess.
The time would come when Dana would reveal the full potential of her grandchild, but that time was not now. Now, there was a society to rebuild and a government to re-establish, and one last paladin whose own destiny was about to come knocking on the door.
Chapter One
10 weeks later …
“Have you talked to mum yet?”
Mordecai paused in the act of making his first cup of coffee for the day. He wasn’t a man with many vices, but he could admit to being heavily dependent upon the bitter, caffeinated goodness that was coffee. It had evolved a lot over the years – the brewing of it as well as the flavours – but its desired effect remained the same, no matter the century. Fuel. Motivation. Love. Yes, he loved coffee. But it was a testament to how much he loved something more when he put his half-filled mug down on the kitchen counter and turned to the woman behind him.
Five-foot-three inches of pure miracle, with startling turquoise eyes and a mouth – that was more often than not – quirked into a genuine and mischievous smile. He felt himself blinking rapidly and spinning back to his neglected coffee without answering because looking at her still hurt so bad. It also brought joy and happiness in equal measure, but the pain was ever-present as well. He wondered if that was ever going to change – or, more to the point – if he ever wanted it to change.
‘Stop being a miserable old martyr.’
Mordecai scowled, ignoring the voice as he filled his mug to the brim with plain, black coffee. He didn’t add milk or sugar or fancy syrup like most of the soft yuppies of the world today. No, he took it black and straight. His thoughts led to even more amusement bouncing around inside his head and even more teasing.
‘Soft yuppies? You’re showing your age, my liege.’
‘Fuck off,’ was Mordecai’s swift internal reply to his usually soft-spoken and mature second in command. Four variations of male laughter flowed through the Order link and Mordecai felt his lips twitch. Once upon a time, Bastien – along with Aiden, Tobias, and Madigan – would never have dared tease him in such a way. Paladins were long seen as glorified servants as well as bodyguards and battery packs. Mordecai had never held true to such ideas and thankfully, the natural bond he shared with his Order had allowed them all to settle into a comfortable rhythm sooner rather than later. And now, sixteen-hundred years later, they were friends and brothers. Although, Mordecai often felt those words didn’t do their bond justice. There would be no Mordecai without the Order of Valhalla.
‘Aww, we love you too, boss,’ Tobias crooned through the link, even as he slapped Mordecai on the back and sought out his own mug.
Mordecai watched his coffee lap against the rim of the mug before it settled once more. “You’re lucky that didn’t spill, cowboy,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous.
Tobias merely rolled his eyes, as completely fearless as always, before he proceeded to add no less than five teaspoons of sugar to his own coffee. Just watching the horrifying act made Mordecai want to gag, and he cupped both hands around his own brew in a protective gesture.
“Dad? How long do you think you can ignore me?”
Mordecai spun back around because he wouldn’t ignore Max for all the lives on the planet. Not ever again. “I’m not ignoring you.”
Max squinted those expressive eyes of hers, “No – you’re just ignoring my mother.”
Mordecai felt his eye twitch, but he resisted the urge to rub it. That would just earn him more ribbing from his Order. Plus, it would be like an acknowledgement that the Great Mother got under his skin. Which she absolutely, unequivocally did