Marked Prince: A Qurilixen World Novel (Qurilixen Lords Book 2)

by Michelle M. Pillow

“I trust her,” Grier answered.

  No, it wasn’t jealousy that fueled him. It was hidden within a tiny glimpse of his future, but she caught it.

  “You do more than trust her,” Fiora smiled, comforted somewhat to know that her sister would be in this man’s future. That meant Salena would get out of here. “I can feel it between you two. You’re connected. You have the kind of love for her that I have rarely seen in my life.”

  Grier gave a small laugh. “You are blunt like your sister. I take that to be a family trait.”

  “I do not believe I had to wait to go after a smelly Lykan,” a Dokka trader announced. His words caused a round of laughter. The Lykan had been approaching a Slit’therne. He turned at the Dokka’s comment.

  Fiora’s smile fell. The arguments were starting. Salena was pulling confessions from the crowd.

  “And you with the lustful eyes?” Salena’s voice lifted. “What are you thinking?”

  “That I would like to bend over the Klennup’s wife,” another Dokka answered.

  More laughter erupted.

  Salena continued pulling the confessions from the crowd, turning them on each other.

  “What is going on here?” General Sten demanded over the chaos.

  “Dammit, Salena,” Grier muttered as yelling turned to fighting. He grabbed Fiora’s arm and navigated the crowd toward his wife. He kept his body angled to protect her from danger.

  A slender man stumbled across their path. Grier nudged him out of the way. The gathering’s timelines converged as their shared futures painted a clearer picture of the brawl that was about to happen.

  Fiora saw the soldiers flooding the room seconds before it happened. She turned a high-pitched scream in their direction to get their attention. She pointed away from her sister. “Over there! The general!”

  Since she couldn’t lie and say the general needed help, it was as close as a diversion as she could manage.

  The soldiers rammed their way through the crowd, knocking several of the guests over as they fought their way to their leader.

  The timelines split apart, became as chaotic as the room, causing her head to spin. She didn’t see a way out. There were too many soldiers, too many flying fists. Someone hit her shoulder and sent her stumbling. She felt dizzy and had to close her eyes. The emotion in the room was too much to sort through.

  Fiora wasn’t sure she would make it out of this mess alive. And so long as Salena was safe, she was all right with that outcome.

  4

  Movement caught Jaxx’s attention, and he saw a uniformed soldier flying from the stronghold’s door seconds before Grier burst through with two women in tow. The man landed on the ground and lay unconscious. Jaxx stretched his wings, ready to join any battle. As far as signs went, this wasn’t subtle. The people below were oblivious to what happened on the clifftop.

  Grier didn’t hesitate as he ran, gripping each woman by a wrist, forcing them with him as he leaped off the side of the cliff. A faint scream sounded as they plummeted toward the ground. An outcropping blocked them from being seen by the people of Shelter City.

  Jaxx flexed his wings, ready to surge from the watchtower rooftop. The women would not survive such a fall, but he trusted his cousin to protect them.

  Before Jaxx could take flight, Grier transformed mid-fall and corrected his trajectory. Hands became talons. His wings flapped with force as he lifted the women into the safety of air. Though, knowing humans, Jaxx doubted they would be feeling too safe right now. Their legs kicked, and they both scrambled with their free hand to hold on to the talon wrapped around their wrists. Their bodies twisted against the dim sky as Grier dove, looping along the edge of the city as fast as he could fly. With any luck, no one would see what the crown prince was holding, at least not clearly, and it wasn’t as if any of them could do anything to stop him.

  Grier came to a jerking stop near the top of the watchtower and met Jaxx’s gaze. Jaxx recognized Salena. She’d changed her clothes into a white tunic and pants. The other woman wore the morphing ring and looked as Salena had going into the facility.

  Grier lowered the women gently to the earth.

  Jaxx jumped off the tower to meet them. When his feet hit the ground, he shifted into his human form. Confining the size of the dragon into the body of a man was a painful process, but it didn’t last long, and after decades he’d become used to it.

  Jaxx ran to where the others had landed. Grier released the women before dropping to his feet next to them. He, too, shifted into his human form.

  The morphed woman swayed on her feet, stumbling toward him. His vision shifted, taking in every movement as if it were imperative that he memorized the moment. The reaction was involuntary. Her green eyes met his briefly before she collapsed.

  Jaxx caught the unconscious woman’s limp body against his chest. A shiver of awareness worked over his naked form at the contact. Her dark auburn hair clung to his skin as he scooped his arm under her legs to lift her from the ground. He felt his body responding to the intimate press.

  “I can’t believe we did it.” Salena made a weak noise as she held her stomach. She dropped to her knees next to Jaxx and looked at the woman in his arms.

  “Wait…” Jaxx adjusted the unconscious woman as he tried to get Salena’s attention. What was he supposed to do with her? His breathing deepened, and he tried to force his heartbeat to slow. “Salena…?”

  Salena glanced at him, saying, “I’d like you to meet my sister,” as she reached to take the morphing ring off her sister’s dangling hand.

  The woman in his arms transformed as he held her. The auburn color of her hair lost some of its red. Her face thinned, the cheeks sinking as dark circles formed under her eyes. Her lips paled. She looked like Salena when Jaxx had first found her hiding in a cave near this very watchtower.

  Salena had appeared just as ill-treated, weak, and had been starved near death. Anger boiled inside him. After seeing the rations the Cysgodians received, it was no surprise that the Federation starved their prisoners as a way to control them.

  Things could not go on like this.

  Before Jaxx could act on his growing rage, Grier said, “Jaxx, help me get them back to the dragon palace before Fiora regains consciousness. I’m afraid I gave her a terrifying ride.”

  Jaxx nodded and lowered Fiora gently to the ground. Something about her stirred the protective instincts in him, but he dismissed the deep emotions. Of course, he felt sorry for her and wanted to protect her. One look at her and he could see her human frailty. He didn’t allow himself to read anything more into his feelings.

  This was not the first time he’d be acting on the edge of the law. It wasn’t even the first time he’d flown through the sky with an unconscious woman clutched in his talons. There was no reason to feel this moment was special.

  Jaxx let his dragon form take over his body before grabbing her by the shoulders and taking to the sky.

  5

  Time lost all meaning when the future converged on the present.

  The second Fiora was pulled out of the Federation facility by her brother-by-marriage, the yelling had started. It was as if thousands of people desperately tried to tell her their stories all at once. Their timelines pressed in on her, choking her as if she gasped to breathe from under a mountain of bodies. Ghostlike images appeared all around her. She’d barely had time to process the information before Grier had forced her to jump off the side of a cliff. She’d screamed out of fear, out of the need to get the yelling to stop, out of frustration when she didn’t splatter against the ground.

  But then Grier’s hand around her wrist had changed into that of a beast, and she was yanked away from the promise of reprieve into a tumultuous flight through a green sky. Her body dangled over images of explosions and fires, and she undulated in the cold air like a flag, legs twisting behind her. Just like with her visions, her body had no control over what happened.

  Why wouldn’t they all just let the torment end?
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br />   Nothingness seemed like a nice alternative to the current images of explosions and the echoing screams of people dying that were now filling her thoughts.

  For the brief second when they’d been falling, she felt relief that there was a ground that would stop everything. Blessed, permanent rest.

  Silence.

  Forever.

  Fiora had the vague impression of touching down on firm earth before the vision of a naked man emerged from beside a watchtower. She didn’t recognize him or the markings on his chest but felt as if his energy pulled her. Her legs wobbled as she felt herself stumbling toward him. Pain exploded behind her eyes. There were too many timelines, too many deaths in the valley settlement. The man’s eyes were fire in the darkness. Death himself, perhaps, come to feast on the misery emanating from below. Panic had overwhelmed her senses, and she wanted the nothingness to take her.

  But the dreams would only let the darkness win for so long. They started with a vengeance, trapping her in a weightless trance as she was forced to watch the end of a world. Nothing made sense. Explosions turned to desolate landscapes. Screams faded into hungry whimpers. Those who loved each other learned to hate as the world beyond chipped away all hope. The timelines were out of sequence, the pieces not fitting together. They came from too many voices, too many points of view.

  People died. Spirits reversed in time to live. A hollow laugh echoed over a cry.

  It was too much.

  It needed to stop.

  It would never stop.

  Fiora wanted to tear out her eyes, but that wouldn’t help. She wanted to deafen her ears, but the cries would remain in her brain.

  She felt her body suspended in the air as if she flew without wings. Nausea built, reminding her of what it felt like during a spaceship’s turbulent landing.

  It never stopped.

  Being a prisoner made to perform for the Federation was hardly a dream scenario. Still, at least in prison she’d been locked away from the tragedy of the outside world. She could hide under a blanket and beg the guards to leave if the visions became too loud.

  Here, from the sky, she saw smoke rising from the scorched earth. But it wasn’t real. She wasn’t awake. She couldn’t fly. This wasn’t her future sequence she was trapped in. None of it made sense.

  It never stopped.

  Fiora felt herself being led into the side of a mountain. Sometimes the visions made little sense. People did not walk through stone. Or maybe this was the future of an elemental. Inside the mountain was a palace with polished red walls and floors.

  Why wouldn’t it stop?

  Just a small break, that was all she needed. A sharp pain shot through the back of her eye. This headache was going to be a bad one.

  Murmured voices came from hidden alcoves as she shuffled through a hallway. At least now she was on her feet. Someone pulled her hand, leading her past stone pedestals. She kept her eyes down, using what little concentration she could muster to keep from throwing up on the clean floor.

  “This way,” a gruff voice commanded, jerking her around a corner. She almost crashed into the wall but managed to lift her hand to block the impact.

  Fiora finally glanced up to see where they were going and instantly regretted it. Death strode naked before her, tugging her through a lavish hall. Statues of fearsome beasts were set in alcoves on each side. Tapestries and paintings decorated the walls. They depicted horrible battle scenes between two very different kinds of humanoid creatures.

  They turned another corner, entering a hallway much like the one they’d just left. She wished for darkness so that she may hide. Monsters couldn’t see her in the dark. If they couldn’t see her, they couldn’t get her. Not like in the light. That’s what her mother had told them.

  Her mind had been overloaded with strong visions, and it became difficult to decipher if this was a delusion, the future, or really happening. The warmth from Death’s hand rolled up her chilled arm, a palpable wave that forced her to pay attention to the sensation. Even as she feared him, she clung to that hint of reality.

  The images of destruction began to ease as he pulled her around another corner. The yells became quiet echoes. Fiora found herself staring at the muscles beneath his skin as they moved in an undulating manner beneath the surface. Mesmerized, she focused on his back. Each tiny movement became a separate entity worthy of study.

  The warmth continued up her arm. They turned yet another corner. His bare feet made soft sounds on the hard floor.

  Her heartbeat began to slow, dislodging the pressure in her throat. She took a deep breath. The ragged sound must have caught the man’s attention because he stopped walking and turned to look at her.

  Green eyes met hers, filled with concern. This was not Death. This was a man—a naked man.

  “You do not look well,” he stated. “Do you require a medic or food?”

  Fiora pulled her hand away from him and looked around the hallway. She couldn’t decipher how exactly she’d made it into the building. Walking through the side of a mountain didn’t seem logical unless it was some kind of barrier wall mirage.

  “…have children. I so want to be a grandmother. I miss my dragon babies…”

  The excited words echoed from the distance. Apparently, the voices weren’t going to stop either.

  “Don’t look at me, son,” a man said with laughter in his voice. “I will never temper my wife’s pleasure.”

  “When are we?” Fiora whispered, confused. Death didn’t answer.

  Fiora noticed that light came from decorative holes above, but there were no windows. The red walls and floors appeared seamlessly cut, rather than constructed. Her eyes went to the sculpture of a beast wearing a crown. Though the expression was not fierce, that didn’t stop the creature from looking like the thing from which nightmares were born.

  “Mother, let me take Salena home.”

  Fiora recognized the voice. The sound felt more from the present. It was that of her sister’s husband. Maybe these weren’t visions.

  Salena. Salena was alive and safe.

  Fiora swayed on her feet. The man grabbed her by the upper arm and pulled her closer to him. She frowned at his familiar handling. Her body stung, and the contact was painful even though he didn’t try to harm her.

  “Unhand me,” she whispered. The sound came out harsh, even though that wasn’t her intention. Her voice was trapped in her throat.

  He instantly released her.

  Fiora swayed again. She couldn’t be touched. Not right now. Too many emotions had bombarded her body, and her skin burned as if her nerves had been sheered raw. At times like this, she could barely remember her own name.

  “Welcome to the family, Lady Salena.”

  Salena. She needed to find her sister.

  The cheery woman’s loud voice drew Fiora’s attention. She couldn’t see the woman who spoke, but she knew that the queen of the dragon people was talking to her sister. The more immediate impressions forced themselves into her mind. Salena and her mother-by-marriage would have an awkward start but would eventually settle into a relationship of mutual respect.

  It never stopped.

  “I can’t keep doing this,” Fiora whispered.

  “What do you mean?” the man next to her asked.

  Fiora rubbed her temple as she glanced sideways at him. She hated that she was unable to tell a lie. “I want to die. It never stops.”

  He did not appear pleased with her honesty. “What never stops?”

  “I’m tired of living with this—”

  “Let me know if there is anything I can bring you,” the queen shouted enthusiastically. The sound of footsteps came from the same direction.

  Fiora was grateful for the interruption. When she started to lift her hand in a silent plea to stop him from continuing the conversation, a wave of awareness came over her. She turned more fully toward him. She’d been confused before when all the death and destruction hit her, but she felt the man’s future clearly now.
No wonder she was sick to her stomach when she was around him.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, frowning.

  “I’m so sorry.” Fiora hated that she was compelled to answer honestly. Tears brimmed her eyes. When she looked at him, all she saw was emptiness. That is why she’d confused him for Death. He wasn’t Death. He was destined to die. “You have a death mark.”

  The man stiffened. Could she blame him?

  Fiora had learned very quickly as a young girl that people didn’t necessarily want the truth. They said they did. They said they wanted to know the future, but it wasn’t true. They wanted her to tell them the future they wanted to hear, not what really would come to pass.

  Could she blame them? When the futures of so many were about to be cut short? Why would they want to hear how painful the end would be?

  It never stopped.

  Grier escorted Salena toward them. Her sister’s hair was a tangled mess, and she wore Fiora’s white tunic. Grier was covered in clumps of dried mud. The disguise had been somewhat more convincing when he’d arrived at the facility, but now he looked like he’d been traveling for days without access to a decontaminator.

  Salena approached, only to stop near the monster statue. She leaned against it, taking a deep breath as she clung to a stone shoulder.

  Grier appeared concerned. “Salena?”

  “Move me and I’m throwing up on one of you, Grier,” Salena answered. “I need the world to stop spinning first.”

  Fiora tried to keep her head from whirling. She pressed her hands to her forehead. The marked man touched her arm gently to turn her toward him. She was sure he meant well, but the slight jolt of her body sent a shockwave through her, and she ended up heaving a stomach full of nutrient paste onto the man’s crotch.

  He jerked his hand back.

  Fiora covered her mouth, mortified by what she’d done. The man stood frozen with his hands to his sides as if he wasn’t sure what to do about the mess. When she opened her mouth to apologize, another wave of nausea hit her, and she covered her lips in an attempt to stop a repeat performance. She swayed slightly on her feet.