Sean’s answering blush confirmed it. “A tumble for fun is one thing,” he said. “But females have made clear that they have no intention of being mated to a Guardian. Guardians rarely mate or have cubs—their lives are about the sword and about death. What female wants that?”
“It’s not about death; it’s about caring.”
Something flickered in his eyes. “Goddess, aren’t you a sweetheart? But I’ve become more a symbol than a man. I can’t save lives, only take them. You tell me, Andy-love, what the hell is that good for?”
Andrea heard his bitterness, and her heart wrenched. She imagined the night he was chosen, a young Sean blinking blue eyes in shock when he was handed the heavy sword. His entire life changed, any plans and ambitions taken away. A Guardian was a Guardian for life.
“Guardians like you remind us we won’t always be enslaved,” she said in a low voice. “In death, your sword frees us.”
“You believe that, lass?”
“A Guardian released my mother’s soul when I was three. I remember being grateful to him for what he did. Even if my mother couldn’t be with me and my stepdad, we knew she was safe in the Summerland.”
“You were three years old, love. Barely able to shift yet.”
“I was still grateful.” She touched his cheek, a man so strong and yet so vulnerable. “You relieve grief, Sean; you don’t cause it.”
“But the Shifters have made the sword more important than their lives. That’s why Callum wanted to steal it. They’ve made it more important than fighting to stay alive.”
“I’m not sure that’s true ...”
“Love, it’s why my brother died.” His voice grew choked, eyes wet. “Kenny was fighting to keep some feral Shifters from stealing the sword that night. He chose to die rather than risk the Sword of the Guardian, and me. How does a man live with that?”
“Goddess,” Andrea whispered. “Sean.” She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down to her.
Sean closed his eyes and sank into her warmth. He’d never voiced these thoughts to anyone, not even Liam, the man he was closest to. And now this Lupine woman with her beautiful gray eyes comforted him in a way no one else had been able to. He’d seen the compassion in her eyes and the understanding.
“He loved you,” she said in her whispery voice. “If Kenny was anything like Liam or your dad or Connor, he loved you. He was fighting to save you, not just your sword.”
“And now he’s gone. He’s gone, and we’ll never have him back.”
His heart gave up to grief. Sean thought he’d been done with this, emptied of tears, but the pain welled up as fresh as it had been that night. He buried his face in his mate’s neck and wept.
Andrea held him close, tears in her own eyes. She stroked the hot silk of his hair, kissed it. Her own heart twisted with his grief, which made this strong, strong man break down. Andrea hated those ferals, whoever they’d been, for hurting this family and driving such pain into them.
“Sean, I’m so sorry.”
Sean lifted his head, kissing her cheek. He wiped tears from his face and pressed his forehead against hers. “Thank you, love.”
He held on to her still, for a little longer. Andrea kissed his lips, light kisses of compassion and caring, with only a taste of wildness. Andrea’s anger at him for trying to keep her home dissolved into understanding. Sean had watched his brother be slaughtered. He lived in terror that he’d have to see that happen to anyone else.
“Sean, I need to tell you something.”
Sean looked up at her in mild surprise, but only mild, as though his emotions had been all used up. “What’s that, love? You bought me more underwear?”
“You’re funny. No.” Andrea slid from his lap to her feet and walked to the dresser, where Sean had laid the sword. She drew a breath. “The Fae warrior asked me to steal the Sword of the Guardian.”
There was dead silence behind her.
Andrea resisted touching the sword on the dresser, feeling Sean’s gaze burning her back. She’d known she couldn’t not tell him, but she worried about what Sean would do with the information. She wanted to question Fionn some more about his claim to be her father and about her mother, but telling Sean he wanted the sword would probably kill that chance.
It shouldn’t matter. Fionn was probably lying about who he was to get what he wanted. Or, even if he truly was her father, his goal must be to get the sword and nothing more.
Let it go, Andrea whispered to herself. The Fae told you what you wanted to hear so that you would do what he wished.
But part of her cried out, yearning to know the truth.
“Bloody hell,” Sean said. “What did you tell him?”
“That I wasn’t stupid enough to snatch the Sword of the Guardian and take it to him because he gave me a line about being my father.” Andrea turned around. Sean remained on the bed, face quiet. “But if I don’t take Fionn the sword, what if he convinces someone else to? That’s why I wondered what would happen if a Fae wielded the sword. What would it do?”
“In theory, nothing.”
“Then why would he want it?”
“The same reason Callum wanted it, most like. To wake Shifters’ fear of soul death. To make them wonder what a Fae would do with the sword. Just knowing that a Fae had it and we might never get it back would make Shifters crazy.”
Andrea made a noise of frustration. “I don’t know what to do.”
“That’s easy, love. Don’t give it to him.”
“But ... Oh, hell, Sean, what if he really is my father?”
“Would that make you give him the sword?”
“No, of course not. Even if Fionn is telling the truth about being my father, why would I trust him? I mean, he left my mother and never went back for her. Or me. He told me it was too dangerous, that he was hiding us from his enemies, who wouldn’t hesitate to kill us. But damn it, that could all be total bullshit. How would I know?”
“Do you want to cross into Faerie and find out?”
Andrea shuddered instinctively. She’d been raised to hate the Fae, the cruel people who’d bred Shifters to be their hunters and fighters. Faerie was a terrible place, so Shifters said. Cold and harsh, full of glittering Fae who would kill you in an instant, or worse—trap you and display you as a prize, maybe letting other Fae torture you for their pleasure.