Brynne had felt Zael’s grief, too, but he had remained steady and stoic throughout the wrenching goodbyes and the final moments that his friend’s remains were laid to rest in the sole grave ever to be dug on the immortals’ island haven.
As the gathering dissolved and most of the colony began to return to their homes, the four elders strode to where Zael and Brynne stood on the hill near a grove of fragrant lemon trees. Zael’s arm around her shoulders flexed, bringing her closer to him as the two men and two women approached.
Baramael inclined his head in greeting. “It was good of you to speak at the gravesite, Zael. Nethilos would have been humbled by your praises. It was clear that his wife and daughter took a great deal of comfort in your memories of him.”
Zael nodded soberly. “He was a good man. One of the best I’ve known.”
“Indeed. He was a valued member of our council as well. We won’t have an easy time finding someone to take his seat on the dais with us.”
“No, I don’t imagine it will be,” Zael said. “And what about Tamisia?”
Baramael and the others exchanged a look. “She will be banished from the colony at first light.”
“Unfortunately,” added Haroth, “she has left us little choice.”
Brynne couldn’t deny the pang of sorrow she felt for the Atlantean female. Tamisia had been negligent in looking out for the colony’s best interests, especially in her role as elder, but her remorse had been painfully evident. She would have to live with the guilt of her unwilling role in Nethilos’s death for the rest of her immortal life, which was a punishment that would probably weigh on her more than anything else.
“If she can make repairs somehow, will you let her back in one day?”
The elders all looked at Brynne, but it was Nathiri, the light-haired female with the silver eyes, who spoke first. “Redemption can be a very long and arduous road. It will be up to Tamisia to find her way back, if that’s what she truly wants.”
Baramael’s unsettling green-blue gaze slid to Zael. “Have you thought any more about what you will do?”
“I have,” Zael answered, his tone serious.
Brynne looked at him in question. They had only talked briefly about the condition the council had imposed on the alliance, neither one of them seeming ready to discuss the potential of a future spent apart when they had come so close to losing each other for good earlier today.
He gazed at her, and the affection she saw there helped to ease some of her anxiety.
Some, but not all.
She could feel how deeply he cared for her, but she couldn’t read his mind.
She pressed her lips flat, afraid to ask the question. “What will you do, Zael?”
“The council has determined that the alliance depends on my remaining here at the colony,” he replied solemnly. “So, that is what I’m prepared to do.”
Brynne couldn’t breathe for a moment. She didn’t know what to hope for. After all, the council had put him in an untenable position. But hearing that he would remain behind at the colony with his people opened up an empty spot in her breast that ached with the loss already.
Zael glanced back to the elders. “I’m not about to let the alliance fall apart now. Not after my friend has lost his life because of it. And not after Elyon’s long-festering duplicity only drives home the fact that the colony must be vigilant—within and without the veil that shields us.”
He was right and Brynne knew it. She could feel how committed he was to his people and their security.
And to this magical place.
Baramael’s narrow stare studied him. “So, you fully intend to accept our terms?”
“Yes. I will make the colony my permanent home, just as you’ve insisted. But I have a condition of my own.”
As he spoke, his gaze caught hers again. She saw the tender look in those cerulean blue depths. She felt the expanding warmth of his affection… His love.
“Tell me,” he asked the elders, although his eyes never left Brynne’s. “Has the colony ever denied sanctuary to a mated couple?”
For a long moment, there was only silence. But then Baramael slowly shook his head. “No, we have never.”
Zael’s smile tugged at the corner of his shrewd and sensual mouth. “Then can I expect that you won’t start now?”
Happiness and hope climbed up the back of Brynne’s throat as the four elders spoke quietly among themselves. But there was a trace of doubt too. None of this changed the fact that she was an outsider in this place. More than an outsider, she was made from the worst enemy these people had ever known.