Warrior (Princesses of Myth #2)

“How? Silas blocks. All the time. How on earth would I take over his mind?”


“Ah, there is a moment of weakness for our mate, and that comes during the time when we join emotionally and physically. Because of the bond though, we cannot harm our mate. We hand back the control soon after it is given.”

“You, ah, mean...” My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth.

“Yes, when we make love our emotions overrule us,” Elizara continued. “Our mate’s mind becomes ours to control.”

Silas coughed, quite haggardly. “You’re saying Hope will see what I don’t wish her to?”

“Yes, it’s impossible for you to block at this point, which means there is a level of trust you have to prepare yourself for. Hope would have access to all you know, but she would return the control because to keep it against your will makes your mind susceptible to damage. With the bond we cannot harm our mated one.”

“Hell,” Silas whispered, his hand going icy in mine.

“I would return it.” Not that I intended for us being together to go that far. Most of our people waited until marriage for such things and our relationship was so uncertain. Although, access to all he knew? Oh, like where Dralion’s captured warriors were contained? Most definitely, Peacio’s battle strategy against my country. Silas wouldn’t want me to know any of that, and I would. Could I go that far at taking information with the bond at play?

He focused on Elizara. “Is there anything else?”

“Katerin suffered from a terrible mental illness, just months after she and Nathwer discovered they were mated. Nathwer kept a close eye on her, but her recovery was slow due to her first pregnancy. And during a short trip away, he returned to find her hallucinating. She’d slept with another thinking him Nathwer. Since the man was not her mated one, she did not have the protective desires which would have compelled her to release the control of his mind. This man ended up without sense, and he died minutes after Nathwer forced Katerin to release his mind.” She paused, her breath shuddering out. “This is difficult to speak of, but the elders saw no other action than complete banishment. Katerin was exiled and Nathwer was charged with policing her. She was pregnant with his child, and it was his choice to go with her. No matter what she’d done, he still loved her deeply, and he didn’t believe the child should have to suffer for her actions.”

A soft sigh, one loaded with sadness. “I am sorry that it must be I who tells you this, but there are also good things which come from the skill of mind-merge.”

Silas groaned, his hands twitching. “At the moment I can’t see them.”

“You will in time. There is no bond stronger than that of the soul-bound one. Add mind-merge to that, and the pledge between the two deepens.”

His hand dropped away from mine. “Or becomes more aggravating.”

“This is frustrating for you?”

“Yes, but less so now I know Hope can merge through our link.”

“Then come. I will teach Hope what she needs to know now so I can ease some of your worry.” She turned, her robes fluttering around her ankles. “It’s getting late and the sun sets quickly in the desert. You must stay the night so we may talk more. I also wish to know my niece.”

We walked side by side as the sun sank over the horizon, yellow melding into dusky pink then inky-blue. Between the colorfully striped tents, we weaved our way to the outskirts of the compound.

“Silas, if you need some time out, I understand.”

“I must stay. You need to learn how to mind-merge through our telepathic connection, and I need to know you can do it.”

“Yes, you do,” Elizara raised the bright yellow canvas flap of the tent outside of which she’d stopped. “This is my home, and it will be yours too while you are here. There are three sections, or separate rooms if you will. You two can have this one. Mine is at the rear. There is another entrance around the far side.”

I ducked and stepped inside. The floor was made entirely of durable matting, a multitude of earth-toned colors streaming together. Elizara lit a lamp and hung it from a metal hook in the center of the tent. In the corner, a pile of pelts ranging from beige to dark brown were stacked beside a wooden crate three feet wide and two feet high. Plump pillows were scattered around the sides of the room, looking sumptuous to sit on.

“Take a pillow. We live rather nomadically, and our belongings can be rolled up and packed within an hour or two.”

I followed her lead, taking a bright red pillow and sitting opposite her. Silas snagged a blue one and joined our circle.