Page 107 of The Ice Prince's Fated Mate
“I know. I tried to tell him that. But he just kept going on about Mirko. He didn’t understand that I don’t care. He can leave the Hunter past behind, we can move on.”
“It’s not his Hunter past that haunts him.” Caz shook his head. “He should have told you everything.”
“What is it that he can’t let go of?”
“A need for atonement. Undoing mistakes he made, hurt he caused.” Caz began to pace. “Dirk was a Hunter for a long time. He threw himself into it because he thought that’s what I, his older brother, wanted from him. He didn’t know that I was only pretending to be like my father. I hadn’t told him the truth. But when our mother died, he grew up, and I revealed what I really thought. Dirk rejected it. He made himself a better Hunter until one day it came to a head. We fought. He was mad I wouldn’t respect him or praise him for his actions. I said he was a disgrace to our kingdom. That we are better, that we should never traffic our own. No ice dragon should serve another.”
“Okay. But what does that have to do with today?” I looked at my friends in case I was missing the point, but they both seemed as lost as me.
“Dirk left that day. I didn’t see him for a decade. Not until the day I finally hunted down Cerberus and caught him.” He glanced over at us. “Only to find out the killer of hunters, that savior of the Grounded? It was my own brother. Trying to make up for what he’d done.”
“What?” I stared, utterly shocked by what Caz had just revealed.
“He came to me, after he left you the other day. Said he was back in that place. That darkness. He feared he was losing himself, and he didn’t know how to stop it, how to fix himself. He said he couldn’t be around you because you deserved better than him.” Caz shrugged. “I told him he was stupid, of course, in the best brotherly way I could. But he’s lost in this battle, of trying to protect you like he feels he failed to do in the past and trying to be the man you want to today.”
“Oh.”
Anna’s hand gripped my shoulder, lending me her support.
“He cares, Ella. He cares an incredible amount. To the point it’s destroying him.” Trumpets from outside caught Caz’s attention. “He’ll be down there with me. And when the challenge is over, one way or another, he’ll be there with you. If you’ll take him.”
The trumpets sounded another time. Anna rose and walked to her mate, linking her arm in his, and they walked out onto the balcony.
The challenge was about to begin.
Fifty-One
Ella
Dirk was Cerberus.Dirk was also one of the Honored Hunters.
Try as I might, I was having a hard time believing it all. Yet why would Caz lie about something so monumental? It had to be true. Which explained much of Dirk’s inner turmoil, that pain I had glimpsed in him on multiple occasions.
My dragon moaned sorrowfully as Milly and I waited behind the curtains. She wanted to push through and run down the steps to wherever Dirk waited. We could feel him. So close, yet somehow still so far.
If we could get to him, reach him, we could help him. He needed us.
And I might just need him.
I missed his presence terribly. Everything without Dirk was lonely and dull much of the time. He filled up my world. Made it bright and comforting, despite all the problems we’d been fighting to overcome.
When I walked out through the curtains to stand on the balcony between Milly, Kolar and Durion, my eyes immediately found my mate. He stood at the side of the Field of Ice, ten feetor so away from Andrik, his opposite. Spine straight, hair tied back in a single braid down his neck.
I watched him, searching his face. For what? Some sign that he was Cerberus? I’d never met the Clippy legend, so I had no idea what he looked like. What I did see was my mate. Tired. Sad. Lonely.
He stood still, staring at something, anything, other than me. Not ignoring me, as I was ignoring everyone else who had assembled to watch the challenge. And a great many were present. But rather, he was focused. I could sense it in my mind as well as see it on his body.
This is where he intends to do it. To kill Mirko.
I wondered if that would free him of the guilt, if it would finally allow him to rest. For his sake, I hoped so.
Casimir and Mirko reached the side of the field at the same time, and the trumpets died off. The stands, which ran in a curve along one half of the large oval field, were filling rapidly as shifters streamed in from several entrances. Along the top row, other shifters, prominent Elites I presumed, watched from more private seats, blocked off from the masses.
The rest of the grounds were enclosed by solid stone walls, part of the citadel itself. All in all, it was a rather dull place, without any color or pomp. Somber might be the best word I could choose to describe it, especially given the potential for deadly combat that was about to occur.
“The rules of Challenge are simple.”
That was Florian, Warlord of the Kingdom. He stood between both parties at the edge of the field, which was perhaps six inches thick of pure ice.
