Book 3. The saga continues. With her mating to Haku rapidly approaching, Chihiro has a number of new problems to face. But these are nothing compared to the plans a new foe has for her. Sequel to Enchantment of the Heart.
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Kenshin looked at the stars. He felt so very tired as if all the years of his long life were suddenly pressing down on him from above. His breath came slowly, but it was uneven and ragged. He wondered, idly how long it had been since he simply looked at the stars. Not for any reason in particular, but just a passing glance to admire them. If he could not even remember doing such a thing then it could have been centuries. He was old, too old. He had no idea how his mother managed to cope with the pressure of the ages. Even he did not know how old she was.
"It would have been better if she never raised me," he thought. "I should have been left to raise myself, as bonded spirits do." He shivered. He felt cold. An image flashed across his mind.
Chihiro's face, frozen in shock. Had she truly believed him incapable of such a thing? He sighed, breath bubbling. Not his finest moment. There was no honour in leaving her to die slowly, but he had done what he had to. Still, he felt angry she had been driven to do such a thing. He had grown fond of her. She was harmless really; a poor weak child trying to do what she had been told was the right thing. It was a shameful act he had committed, but it was not his shame alone. His mother had driven a woman with child to stand against him. His mother's hands were just as stained with her blood, perhaps more so. He turned his thoughts from Chihiro. The spell was all that truly mattered.
He was not concerned about his spell. Haku could blast it to its component materials and it would still fulfil its purpose. The spell was self-sustaining now; it would survive. Kenshin had been surprised by the dragon's power. The face Kohaku presented to the world was a mere façade. The dragon may rule over an underground lake, yet if he wished, he could seize control of an ocean. However, the dragon was seemingly content with his lake, his bathhouse and his human. Or rather he had been until Kenshin had killed his mate. The dragon would likely go insane with grief and cause another wave of chaos in the joined worlds.
"I should have forced him to change form when I captured him," Kenshin thought. "I would have seen what he was. I could have drained him faster and had the spell completed in half the time." Hindsight was a wonderful thing. It did not matter, the spell was finished. He would have liked to have seen the new world. He would have helped it through its painful and bloody birth. It would have given him another purpose, something his life had lacked until he committed himself to reunification. His breath shuddered. He was not going to last much longer. He considered what he would face next. He did not fear his death; he was actually finding the process interesting, though he could have done without so much pain. This was something of which had no experience. He had caused the death of others, and now he was to experience the process himself. He hoped reincarnation did not await him; his weary soul needed a rest.
"I'm so tired," he whispered.
"Then perhaps you should have stayed asleep," said a melodious female voice that sent a chill down his spine. He turned his head to see his mother standing barefoot in the sands of his desert. For once she wore simple work clothes, her black hair, glossy and shiny, so unlike his own dark hair that had never reflected the light. Her purple eyes showed little emotion but he knew her even better than her current mate did. He knew she felt pity for him and his hatred of her almost stopped his already faltering heart.
