Fires of War (War and Deceit #4) - Erin O'Kane Page 0,53
intensity that I’m not used to seeing from him. Towards others or threats, but never aimed at me. However, when I reach for our connection, instead of feeling anger or frustration like I expected, all I feel is determination.
Beside me, Speaker Hawthorn takes my hand, and I reluctantly turn to look at him, no longer able to avoid the inevitable. But his face is open and kind. No, that’s not completely true, my mind whispers. Look at his eyes. There’s anger there, but as I examine his face, I get the impression it isn’t me he’s angry at.
“But you didn’t,” he states, squeezing my hand, his face serious as he speaks. “You survived.” His eyes are locked onto mine, but I get the impression he’s talking to the others around the campfire too. That he is addressing everyone who ever felt so low that death felt like the only option, the only escape. “Some days, beloved, that is all you can do, and that’s okay.”
Silence follows his words as we all absorb what he just said, but it’s not the heavy silence from before, there’s a feeling of acceptance. My wrist warms, and as I look down, I see my goddess mark glowing softly, and I know she agrees. A huge weight lifts from my shoulders, knowing that no matter this darkness I’ve carried with me, she loves me despite it.
Oh, beloved. Her voice echoes through my mind. Gasping quietly, I sit up as her love floods my body, each and every pore feeling alive with her power. When will you learn that it is for your imperfections that I love you, even the anger you try to bury and hide away? I want to feel guilty as she speaks of my feelings, but she instantly washes it away, cocooning me in her embrace of adoration. What I have done to deserve her love, I will never know. As soon as I have these thoughts, she chuckles in my mind, a musical sound that brings a smile to my face. There is nothing about you I couldn’t cherish. Your hardships are what will make you the perfect leader. You understand pain and suffering, and will do almost anything to make sure others don’t have to go through what you did. Nerves surface again, and I feel her start to pull away. I want to call out, to beg her to stay, but I bite my tongue, knowing it won’t do any good. Believe in yourself, beloved. Trust that I made the right choice, she whispers before she fades from my mind completely.
A gentle squeeze on my hand reminds me of where I am, my eyes focusing back on the wizened bark-like skin of Speaker Hawthorn. “She just spoke to you, didn’t she?” His smile is meaningful, his eyes bright at knowing he was just in the presence of his goddess. I raise my eyebrows. I hadn’t thought I was so obvious. “Don’t look so surprised, I recognised the look on your face, plus, the air changes when she’s here. It’s thicker, like a…magical fog.” A wistful sigh leaves his lips. “I wish we could hear her as you do.”
Smiling at the speaker, I think over everything, knowing I am fortunate the Great Mother chooses to talk to me as she does, but that comes with the weight of responsibility as well. With a deep sigh, I gently extract my hand from his and stare down at my palms, tracing my lifeline with my finger. “I can’t bear the thought of any of you dying because of me,” I admit. This has been one of my greatest fears and most recurrent nightmares. I dream of the people I love dying because of my mistakes, of people under my care perishing because I don’t know what I’m doing. People, who put their trust in me, that I let down.
Although the others on the opposite side of the campfire are talking in low, hushed voices, I can tell they are listening to our conversation from the way their heads turn slightly in our direction.
The speaker makes a noise in the back of his throat like he finds my comment amusing. “Lives are lost every day. It is a natural part of life, beloved.”
Frowning, I spin on the bench to face him, anger bubbling in the pit of my stomach. I must have misunderstood, it almost sounds like he’s defending the idea of going to war. “War is not natural. It is hateful. It