Cloaked: Easthaven Crest, Book One

by Justice, A. D.

  “I’m not through with you yet, princess.” He walks to the bedroom and places me on the bed, then flips me onto my stomach. He grips my hips and pulls me backward until my feet touch the floor. “Hold on tight.”

  He barely issues his warning before he slams into me again. His punishing grip is so hard, I’m sure I’ll have bruises. But at the moment, I couldn’t care less. The way he loses control with me is both humbling and empowering. Each time we’re together is better than the last. I’m in pure heaven when he finds his release. I melt into the bed, exhausted and satiated beyond belief. He collapses on top of me, his chest flush against my back, and kisses my hair.

  “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He sounds sleepy. We’ve both had a long day.

  “No, you didn’t hurt me, my caveman. Just the opposite, actually.”

  He rolls to the side, curls his arm around my waist, and hoists me up toward the head of the bed. I turn to face him with a big, goofy smile on my face. “Good. You know I’d never intentionally hurt you, right? I get carried away with you and have to fight to keep my composure. But I want you to tell me if I ever go too far.”

  “I’m fine, I promise. But if I feel the need to stop you, you will definitely know.”

  When he moves his head to kiss me, he winces and grabs the back of his neck, massaging the obviously painful area. “I must’ve hurt myself. My neck is so sore.”

  “You probably got a crick in your neck from holding me up for so long. Roll onto your stomach, and I’ll massage it for you.” I begin kneading the knots and tight muscles in his neck, and he moans in appreciation. “All the stress you’ve been under hasn’t helped this, you know.”

  “I know. It comes with the territory, though.” He slightly lifts one shoulder before thinking better of it.

  “You need an assistant or something. Someone to help shoulder the workload instead of— Wha…what is this on your neck, Saban? Is this some kind of tattoo?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have a tattoo. What does it look like?”

  “It kind of looks like an eye with three dots over the top of it, but it’s not very clear. If you didn’t do it on purpose, how did it get here?”

  “It’s probably just an odd-shaped scratch from something during the day from hell I had. Or it could be from your fingernails digging into my skin.”

  “That’s not from my fingernails, Saban, and you can’t just dismiss it as nothing. Your neck is sore, and there’s a visible mark on it from something. You need to get it checked out.” I don’t know enough about the medical implications in this realm to speak with any certainty, but I know when something is off.

  ”Who knows what happened? I’m fine, my love. But if it’ll make you feel better, I promise to see the doctor tomorrow and get a clean bill of health to ease your mind. Deal?”

  “Deal, but only because I don’t have another choice at the moment.” He chuckles at my pout.

  “What I need right now is some sleep, nestled against your body all night. Come here.” He spoons me from behind, all our limbs entwined like a pretzel, and we fall into a deep sleep together.

  * * *

  It’s still dark out when I’m pulled out of the best sleep I’ve had in a while. The chilly air in the room washes over my bare back, making me shiver and search for Saban. His natural body heat is better than any blanket. I reach out for him, but he’s not there. I lift up on my elbow and look around the room, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the dim light.

  “Well, if the queen herself isn’t finally awake. I was beginning to think maybe I’d fucked you into a coma.” I recognize the voice, but not the menacing tone.

  I quickly wrap the sheet around myself before turning on the bedside lamp. “Saban? What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “Absolutely nothing’s wrong. I have you right where I want you. Wrapped around my little finger. Naked and in my bed. Under my thumb and out of the public eye. You proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’re too naïve and trusting to lead this kingdom. I gave you a little attention, a few orgasms, and you spilled all your secrets. I mean, everything I could use against you to usurp any claim to authority you could’ve had.

  “You’re a mage. You weren’t even raised here, but you think I’ll let you waltz in and take over what should be mine? No chance in hell that will happen. If any of your little mage friends see you again, it’ll be in your next life.”

  His words are like knives stabbing my heart one at a time. I’m so hurt and confused, it’s hard to think straight. But I do know I have to get away from him. His parents killed my parents…and he’s just decided to get rid of me. I stand, gripping the sheet tightly around me with one hand and holding out the other in mock surrender, and step toward my clothes that are still on the settee.

  “Saban, I don’t understand why you would do this to me. We’re soul mates. You love me. What happened to you in the last couple of hours?”

  “Not a damn thing, Sara. Or Saraya. Whoever the hell you are. It doesn’t matter what you call yourself now.” His muscles tense in preparation to pounce on me.

  I jump to the side when he lunges forward, and I scoop up my clothes off the settee with my free hand. With all the white energy I can muster, I create a protective barrier around me and push him backward.

  But he breaks through it as if it wasn’t even there. He wraps his hand around my neck and squeezes. His eyes are black and devoid of anything remotely resembling the man I know. With both hands full, I can’t fight back, so I drop the sheet and try to break his hold on me. But it’s no use. He’s too strong physically for me. I begin punching him in the face as hard as I can, ignoring the pain shooting through the bones in my hand.

  He pulls me close to him so we’re face-to-face and growls at me through gritted teeth. “I should’ve done this a long time ago.”

  My free hand randomly connects with his face and head, trying to find a vulnerable spot to give me a fighting chance. Even for a split second, just enough for me to get away from him. I wrap my fingers around his neck, determined to scratch his jugular out from under his skin if I have to.

  That’s when it happens.

  Amid the foggy haze inside Saban’s mind, I can barely make out the image of another man’s face. His ugly sneer and cold, dead eyes frighten me more than the angry man I’m currently fighting. The stranger smiles at me, but it’s an evil grin, full of hate and horror. “Now I can see you. I’m coming for you, Saraya.”

  Then I hear a different voice scream loudly. A voice I’d recognize anywhere. Run, Sara!

  Saban is stunned for a moment, and I break free from his grip. Coughing and sputtering, I make a mad dash for the balcony doors when the glass shatters, flying inside toward me, and a large, beautiful cat stands ready to kill.

  “Laurelai!” My voice is hoarse and barely intelligible, but she senses how happy I am to see her. She snarls her lip up, baring her long teeth at Saban, then releases a loud roar. It’s a clear warning that she will shred him to pieces if he makes a move toward me. She wants to kill him. I can feel the rage coursing through her veins. She craves the taste of his blood on her tongue. “We need to get out of here. Right now. Come on, girl.”

  The difference in gravity in this world comes to my rescue once again. I leap from the balcony with my spirit animal right behind me, and we put as much distance between Saban and us as we possibly can. I’m hidden behind a large tree in the dark shadows of the night, where I quickly dress in the clothes I wore earlier.

  When I glance up at the window, I see Saban standing there, stock-still as if he’s a statue. He’s staring down at me with no expression. Lifeless. Dead. Unfeeling. When I look into his thoughts, there’s nothing there but an ice-cold wall.

  In a way, I envy him.

  I wish I couldn’t feel anything right now.

  Chapter 30

  Laurelai and I run the entire distance from the palace to the Veil, making sure no one is following us along the way. My thro
at is killing me, my neck is sore, and my heart is broken. But I think what he said to me and the way he said it hurts worse than my physical injuries.

  Ginevra meets me with open arms on the path before we reach the community area. I rush into her embrace, thankful for a friendly face and an understanding ear. She pats me on the back in a soothing, grandmotherly way that makes me miss Nana even more. “Come inside, have a hot cup of tea, and tell me everything. We’ll sort it out together.”

  I follow her to the tree grove, where Kobi sprinkles me with her dust before kissing my cheek. “Don’t worry, Saraya. Everything will work out the way it’s meant to be.”

  “You’re sweet, Kobi. But right now, nothing feels like it’ll ever be right again.” My raspy voice is barely audible.

  Inside the tree house, Ginevra starts the teakettle and takes her seat while the water heats. I suspect she could simply use her magic to conjure a ready-made drink, but she’s purposely giving me time to calm down. She waits patiently for me to collect my thoughts and begin my lengthy narrative. With a heavy heart and a strained voice, I start from the beginning and share every humiliating detail, straining my vocal cords but wanting to get the full story out.

  By the time I’m finished, we’ve each drunk two cups and my throat is beginning to feel better. Then the tears start, and I can’t stop them. After the first one falls, it’s quickly replaced by more and more until I finally quit fighting and let it all out. Ginevra offers her shoulder for me to lean on, then wraps her arm around my shoulder.

  “You love him, Saraya. When we love someone, we give them everything we have. Sometimes they take that love for granted and we end up hurt. Sometimes they return our love and make us feel whole. Love given is never wasted, regardless of what happens. Anyone worth your love is worth a fight. My girl, you need to steel your nerves for the fight of your life.”

  “I just feel so stupid, Ginevra. I told him everything about me. My life in the other world, my powers…I gave him all the ammunition he needs to hurt me even more. How did I miss this? I’ve racked my brain, and I don’t recall a single sign that this was coming. I fought the attraction to him for so long, not believing in the whole soul mate thing, unsure I was ready for that kind of commitment. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to stay in this world. My original plan was to find Nana and go back to Montana.

  “Then he almost died right in front of me, and I realized I would be devastated without him. That’s when I stopped resisting my feelings for him. Was it all a game this whole time? Did he know about me? My parents? Was he just waiting to expose me as a mage?”

  “I don’t know, sweetie. I’ve tried to peer into his thoughts, but I can’t get through the barrier to see what’s really going on in there.”

  “The same happened to me when Laurelai and I were leaving. He was staring down at me with no emotion at all. I tried to see into his mind, but it was as if I were staring at an ice wall. I even felt the bitter coldness radiating off it. I’ve never experienced that before.”

  “You said you saw a man’s face and he spoke to you. You didn’t recognize him? You’ve never seen him before?”

  “He seemed familiar, but I was dealing with so much at once, it was hard to focus on just his face. The image wasn’t clear, and I was close to losing consciousness. But then Nana’s voice broke through and stunned us both. She’s the reason he let go of me. She told me to run, and I didn’t waste time asking questions. Then Laurelai leaped through the window to protect me, and we got out of there together.”

  “Zu is a very powerful mage. I’m not surprised she intervened when she did.” Ginevra leans her head into her hand and rubs her forehead.

  “She called me Sara.” I sit up straight and wipe the tears from my face.

  “So? What does that matter?”

  “Every other time I’ve heard the voice in my head, she called me Saraya. I dismissed my initial doubts about it. But Nana never called me Saraya. The first time I heard that name was here in Easthaven Crest. She has only called me Sara my entire life.

  “Her voice was distinct and clear this time, unlike the other times when it was so muffled, I couldn’t tell if it was really her or not. What if it wasn’t her any other time? What if it was the warlock telling me what to do so he could get to me? He’s been looking for me this entire time, but he couldn’t find me because of the cloak. He knew my mage name but not the one I go by now. But he saw my face through Saban tonight.”

  The blood drains from her face, and she grips my hand so hard her knuckles turn white. “If he knows who you are now…”

  She jumps up and pulls me into the kitchen with her. She pulls an enormous leather book from a cupboard above the refrigerator and hurriedly flips through it until she finds the specific page she needs. She reads from the text, and though I don’t recognize the language, I know it’s a spell.

  She stumbles backward until the backs of her knees hit the chair. She drops into the seat, her hand covering her mouth, and shakes her head with a panicked expression on her face.

  “What? What is it?” She can’t leave me hanging like this, not after the night I’ve had.

  “The cloak is broken, Saraya. He found a way through it and broke our spell to hide you. Now that he’s seen your face, he can find his way into your mind. You have to keep your thoughts shielded at all times, and you’ll have to fortify the shields with extra measures.” She stands and begins pacing and talking to herself more than to me. “We have more work to do. You need to strengthen your powers and learn our more advanced techniques. We should look into other places to hide you for your own protection.”

  I grab her shoulders to stop her kitchen parade and make her look at me. “I’m not going into hiding anywhere. I’m standing and fighting this, Ginevra. Look, I have no desire to be queen, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let him be king and rule this kingdom with an evil iron fist.”

  “Sweetheart, I hate to say this, but I don’t think the people here will ever be ready for a mage queen. They just won’t let it happen. You’ll be in constant danger and fending off attacks from every direction.”

  “I may be young and naïve in many respects, but I know right from wrong, Ginevra. This isn’t something I’m willing to concede. The very fact that the people are prejudiced against mages is enough reason why this has to be my course of action. As my parents’ daughter, if I don’t stand up for all the people, who will?”

  “You may not want it, but you will be an amazing queen. Mage Queen Saraya. That has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

  “I’m fine with plain old Sara. But let’s figure out how to stop him first. You said I need to level up my powers. I have an idea on that topic I’ve been thinking about for a while. My father was an elf, and they have natural powers. Ruvaen and Rycan both pledged to help me when I needed it, and they were positive I’d need it. Would learning how to better harness their powers strengthen mine more?”

  “Yes, absolutely. That is a fantastic idea. If they shared their secrets with you, you’d be the most powerful mage our world has ever known. Some of the powers are innate because of the bloodline. But if you can access their academic abilities, that warlock wouldn’t know what hit him. Oh, but wait…did you tell Saban your father was an elf? Does he know you’re half elf?”

  “No, actually, I didn’t even think about that when we were talking. I mean, I don’t know if people think that’s a big deal in this world, but races mix all the time in my world.”

  “It’s not normal practice in the realm. The merpeople are obviously distinct in their abilities to breathe underwater. That proves tricky when a man and woman of different races try to live together in their kingdom. The elves have their own family expectations about continuing their bloodlines and gifts. They tolerated your parents’ union because your father had a unique situation. There aren’t many elvish orphans. Shifters and vampires are more secretive, but I haven’t heard of any intermixing in their races. It’s sad now that I think about it, but
our lives are lived very much separately.”

  “My plan is to change that completely. We still have a couple hours before the sun comes up. I’m going to try to get some rest then go visit Ruvaen to ask for his help. There may be a couple other people who would be willing to pitch in if we need them. I have a feeling this is much bigger than just taking over the Easthaven Crest throne.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  * * *

  When I wake from my fitful nap, several hours have passed, but I don’t feel any more rested than when I first lay down. But I have too much to do to try to sleep now. After a quick shower, I step in front of the mirror, and the dark black bruises in the shape of fingers serve as a stark reminder of the dangers waiting for me.

  With my hands on the vanity for support, I lower my head and close my eyes. I’ve learned defensive and offensive magic to protect myself. But in the heat of the moment, I couldn’t think straight to do anything except swat at him with my fists. That wasn’t even part of the war—it was only a minor skirmish. If I’m going to survive the real conflict that’s coming, I have to keep my cool and use the skills I’ve already mastered.

  My hope is the elves will be able to help me learn that control. Rycan doesn’t seem to have any fear and is always in charge of the situation. I never pushed the topic before, but now I wonder what caused the rift between him and Saban. Should that have been a red flag to me before now?

  As Ginevra tried to tell me, I can’t keep second-guessing everything about Saban. Loving him wasn’t wasted time at all. He spoke the words and carried out the acts, but I’m holding on to the possibility he wasn’t responsible for any of it. If the warlock somehow possessed him, there’s a chance Saban doesn’t even realize what he did.

  But can I ever trust him? How can I find out the truth?