Dead Moons Rising: First in the Honest Scrolls series

by Jack Whitney

  Aydra smiled at the exchange. “You always find the prettiest little thing in the room,” she mused to her Second.

  “I take it Ash expects to warm your bed after this?” Lex asked.

  “That he does,” Aydra replied.

  “Sure that’s what you’re thirsting for tonight?” Lex asked with a raised brow.

  Aydra frowned, but followed the woman’s gaze across the room to the one standing in the darkened corner. Aydra glared at her upon realizing who was standing there. “Please. I’d never give him the satisfaction.”

  “Oh, I’m sure he’d satisfy everything,” Lex mused against the rim of her cup.

  Aydra’s jaw clenched. “Perhaps you should invite him to your party.”

  “Perhaps I will. I’m sure he’d love to join.”

  Aydra almost laughed at the smug glint in Lex’s eyes. “Right. You have fun with that.”

  Lex swirled the last bit of wine in her goblet and then drank it, finishing with an audible “Ah,” upon swallowing the liquid. “Well… if you get bored of Ash, I’m sure we will have room enough for one more,” Lex grinned at her.

  Aydra laughed under her breath. “I will be sure to knock first.”

  Lex sat her cup down on the table. “Don’t bother. Just join in,” she added. “I’ll see you tomorrow, my Queen.”

  Aydra raised her cup to her. “Yes. Tomorrow. We’ll get to start our day with another beheading.”

  “Oh yes, that’s right,” Lex said delightedly. “Love a good beheading.”

  Aydra laughed as she watched her friend wave and then stride over to the other side of the room.

  She found herself wandering absently around the room for some time, allowing her mind to wander as councilmen spoke with her about things she cared nothing of. The wine in her golden goblet swirled upon her walking. She chatted with her sister a few more times, but soon, she wandered into the darkened hall, itching to get away from the faux noises of the men and women laughing and discussing politics in the Chamber.

  Almost immediately, the smell of Black herbal smoke filled her lungs, and she knew she was not the only one in the darkened hall.

  “I believe I owe you an unfortunate thanks,” said the voice she’d dreaded to hear since the meeting adjourned.

  Aydra searched the darkness, only to find the Hunter, Draven, leaning against one of the tall open windows halfway down the hall, long pipe in his hand as his eyes met hers beneath the square of his brows.

  “Lurking in the dark, Venari. How very… you,” she smarted.

  His rippled arm was silhouetted in the light from the torches and moons light coming in through the windows from outside. She noticed he’d taken his crown off and hung it on his belt as though it were an accessory. His long hair was pulled up on his head in a thick bun, stray hairs falling out of it. He struck a match against the stone, the amber light illuminating the strongest features of his handsome face, the pale of his sage eyes, and he lit the pipe once more. The short darkened beard around his mouth and along his jaw did not hide the bite of his lips around the end of the pipe as he drew a long inhale. He allowed it to swim in his lungs and then he extended the pipe to her. A great O of smoke emitted from his lips and fluttered out the window into the wind.

  Enemy or not, black herb was black herb. And after her day, she wanted nothing more than the swim of it through her veins.

  She took the pipe from his callused hands and sat her wine goblet in the windowsill. The moment the wood touched her lips and she inhaled, she had to close her eyes, allowing it to radiate her muscles and send a chill down her spine. It was sweeter than she was used to, and she felt her brows raise as she opened her eyes to meet his.

  “That is not from Dorian’s garden,” she managed as she handed the pipe back to him.

  “No,” he replied as he took it. “It’s from mine.”

  She nodded quietly and picked her drink up once more, swirling the liquid in the goblet. The twinkling of the torches down in the village danced in her eyes. The lights looked as stars on the ground, sudden patterns emerging as the herb swam in her mind.

  “I didn’t do it for you, you know. The hunting agreement,” she told him then. “I did it for the Noctuans. As misunderstood as they are, they do not deserve to starve and die at the hands of those who fear them.”

  “Nevertheless, I appreciate it,” he said as he puffed on the pipe once more.

  She could feel his eyes on her, and she had to do a double-take upon finding his deep set green eyes deliberately traveling over her, eyes looming at her hips.

  “Eyes front, Venari,” Aydra growled with a raise of her brow.

  She hated him for his handsomeness and arrogant nature. The fact that they’d grown up opposite one another, always opposing the other, didn’t help when he smirked at her with his best lustful gaze.

  The smirk she’d only just warned herself of was staring at her when he lifted his gaze to hers. A crooked smirk that rested on his lips as he bit the end of the pipe in the corner of his mouth. “Perhaps you should think about that before wearing something as distracting as this dress,” he uttered.

  “Your being distracted by body parts has more to do with you than me,” she said back to him.

  He straightened up and shoved one hand in his pocket. “You’re not wrong,” he agreed. “A man’s lust should be checked at the door and not allowed free roam on his features at the expense of a strong woman not in need of saving.”

  “Says the one who can’t keep his gaze off something that isn’t his,” she mocked.

  He held out the pipe to her again, tongue darting out over his lips, the smirk not leaving his eyes. She took the pipe with a perturbed twist of her lips.

  “I think this dress says a lot about the both of us,” he continued.

  She pulled a deep inhale again and exhaled into the wind. “I am probably going to regret this, but do explain, Hunter.”

  He pushed off the wall and took a few slow steps around her. “You, in that you’re confident enough to wear this for yourself and only yourself. It makes you feel empowered, in charge, like you could take on the world, which you certainly should. No other could pull this dress off. Your sister certainly couldn’t… And me, in that—”

  “You’re a pig?” she interjected, handing him back the pipe.

  He huffed amusedly and pushed the stray hairs that had fallen out of his ponytail back off his forehead. “Me in that I realize I’ve been in the woods far too long if I’m being distracted simply by the sight of a beautiful woman in a dress.”

  She raised a brow at him. “What’s wrong, Venari?” she mocked. “Do the Hunter girls’ attire not bring you to your knees?”

  “I’ve not let a woman bring me to my knees in a long while,” he mused.

  “Don’t—” she interjected before he could say anything.

  He met her eyes in a sideways stare off that she stood her ground on until only the noise of Ash’s voice behind them caught her ears a few moments later.

  “Am I interrupting?” Ash asked.

  “Not at all,” Draven replied, still not breaking his gaze with her.

  “I was just telling the Venari King what a pig he is,” Aydra informed Ash.

  Ash glared at Draven as he stood his ground at the entrance of the hall. “Care to take a walk out of here, Venari?” he dared.

  Draven chuckled under his breath and leaned his head down, his nose brushing against Aydra’s ear. “You know where I’ll be if you’d rather see a king on his knees before you than this lonely captain.” His words tickled her ear, and she felt her jaw clench.

  “I’ll enjoy killing you one day,” she uttered as she met his eyes again.

  “And I’ll enjoy watching you burn,” he mused back.

  The fire blazed in his gaze once more as he left her side. He clapped Ash on his shoulder and pressed the pipe between his lips. “Enjoy your night, Ash,” Draven mocked upon passing the Dreamer.

  Aydra stared at Draven as his
shadowed figure disappeared into the darkness once more. Ash crossed the space between them and then reached for her hand. “My Queen,” he said upon kissing her knuckles. “Shall we retire for the evening?”

  Her lips twisted upwards just slightly. “We shall.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  AYDRA WATCHED THE torches on the beach for some of the night. Wherever this Infi creature was, it was hiding very well, or perhaps smart enough to make itself scarce at the sight of Belwarks patrolling the surf.

  “Idiots,” Aydra muttered about them.

  The arms that wrapped around her a few moments later didn’t startle her. Ash pressed his lips to her neck beneath her ear and nuzzled her skin. “Come back to bed,” he urged her. “Your men can handle finding the creature.”

  The swim of the black herb she’d smoked was still pulsing through her veins. Her head sighed back into his embrace as his hands began to wander. She hadn’t found her end with him so quickly in a very long time. Ash could be a blunder, treating her as though she would break at times. But that night, she didn’t know if perhaps he’d learned new tricks or if it was the herb that made her so sensitive. Whatever the cause, she wouldn’t deny herself the pleasure of it a few times more.

  Ash left her bed a couple of hours before the sunrise. Aydra felt more satisfied than she had in a long time, probably since the last she and Lex had together enjoyed the company of one of the Honest trader men to come through. The torches were still lit on the beach, and she could see that the Belwarks had clustered together towards the entrance wall. Aydra’s jaw tightened at the display, and she grabbed for her riding clothes.

  Lex was still asleep when Aydra knocked on her door a half hour later. After a few knocks, Aydra simply burst in, finding Lex laying between the two Dreamers that had accompanied the Ambassador of Scindo Creek.

  “Well, well,” Aydra said, arms crossing over her chest at the end of the bed. “I suppose one daughter wasn’t enough?”

  A small smile rose on Lex’s face and she stirred just so. “It is not sunrise, my Queen,” she managed, sitting up and rubbing her face. “Did you—” she paused in her speech, and her brows narrowed at the sight of the clothing Aydra had on. “Did something happen?”

  Aydra nodded towards the window. “Rhaif’s men are useless. We’re taking over the search.”

  Lex’s grin widened. “Why we ever send them to do our job is beyond me,” she mused.

  “Agreed.” Aydra turned on her heel then and started for the door. “I’ll be on the first terrace. Put on clothes and get our horses ready.”

  “Oooo… So demanding so early,” Lex mocked. “I like it.”

  The brunette in the bed stirred. “What’s going— Your Majesty!” The girl nearly shrieked in surprise at seeing Aydra in the room and pulled the sheets up over her breasts. “My Queen—I—”

  Aydra nearly laughed and she held a hand up. “I’ve seen worse in more compromising positions, Aani,” she told her. “Lex, I’ll see you in a bit. Aani, clean yourself and your friend up. Your father will expect you innocent once more at breakfast.”

  Aydra exited Lex’s room and made downstairs for the terrace below the Throne Room. It was a favorite place of hers to go whenever she woke so early.

  The crisp night air welcomed her. Two crescent moons waved at her from over the ocean far below. She moved her hair off her neck and pulled it into a messy ponytail atop her head as she reached the stone edge wall. Stray curls fell out of the bun and tickled her face and neck. She could see most of the kingdom from that terrace. The only people out in the streets far below were the bread makers, smells of honey and yeast filling the air. She closed her eyes and pressed her palms into the stone, leaning over it as the wind circled around her.

  “You know when I chose this spot, I had thought I would be alone to watch the sunrise,” came a deep groggy voice she recognized all too well.

  Her eyes opened, and she turned just slightly, finding Draven sitting on the ground in the darkness behind her, back leaned against the opposite facing wall. He was packing his pipe, the only glimpse of him being the strongest of his features silhouetted in the moons light. His hair was down, the thick unkept waves pushed over to cover the left side of his face. She turned and leaned her own back against her wall and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “A bit early, isn’t it?” she asked with a raised brow.

  He didn’t look up as he continued to pack it with a pale looking herb she wasn’t familiar with. “This is my morning herb. A different sort from that of yesterday evening.” A match was pulled from his pocket and he struck it against the stone as he’d done the night before. It illuminated his face as he pressed his lips around the pipe and took a long draw, head leaning back against the stone upon his holding it in his lungs for a moment. A long O of smoke exhaled from his mouth. She watched him take a long, deliberate, look over her body as his eyes opened, and he pulled his knees into his chest.

  “I take it you had a pleasant night,” he said.

  Aydra felt her brows raise at the memory of it, and then did a double-take at the smug look on Draven’s face. Her jaw clenched. “The herb?”

  A gentle huff of amusement left his lips, and he shook his head. “No idea what you mean.”

  Her arms hugged tighter against her chest. “That would explain a few things,” she mumbled. “I haven’t come that quickly with Ash in ages.”

  He choked on the inhale he’d just taken and doubled-over coughing, gripping to the stone floor. She felt a smirk on her lips.

  “Did I say something?” she asked.

  He clenched his chest and then shook his head, attempting to regain his composure. “No, I just—I wasn’t sure you knew how to joke.”

  “Who says it was a joke?” she asked, finally meeting his gaze.

  A quirk of a crooked smile rose on his lips and he stood from the ground, crossing the space between them to lean over the wall as she was. He extended his hand with the pipe towards her, and she eyed the green herb in it, not entirely trusting that this was a weaker brand as he’d said it was.

  “I smoke that now and I won’t be able to manage the rest of the day,” she told him.

  He puffed on it again and nodded towards the east. “I think we have a bit of time we could take care of any… urges… you might have.”

  Her lips pursed in his direction and she almost rolled her eyes at his raised brow. “You’re disgusting.”

  He scoffed under his breath and straightened up. “Have you any word if they found the Infi?”

  “Nothing. But I was watching them some during the night. Rhaif’s men are completely useless,” she answered. “You’ll show me proper disposal when it is found, not the others.”

  Draven paused a moment and stared at her. “Why are you the one beheading criminals?”

  “I refuse to give orders of which I am not comfortable taking care of on my own,” she answered simply. “I am in charge of the security within this kingdom. I will be the one to take the lives and quell the punishments of any who we see fit to take.”

  Draven’s eyes fluttered closed, jaw tightening, and she swore she heard a low growl emit from his throat, but she didn’t have a moment to ponder it. He inhaled the herb deeply, fist clenching and unclenching at his side as his eyes opened once more and met hers. Her weight shifted beneath the intense weight of his gaze, and her brows raised at him.

  “What?” she asked.

  He straightened and leaned over the banister again. “Nothing,” he said quietly. “This title… it’s new, is it not?” he finally asked.

  “It was given to me upon my discovering the Infi the first time. I brought him before Council and then took care of his execution myself.”

  “And exactly how many of these punishments have you had to fulfill?” he asked with a tilt of his head.

  Her jaw clenched. “The inner workings of our kingdom is not your concern.”

  “So two, then?” he dared to say.

  Lex
appeared at the doorway then, and she raised her brows between the pair standing on the roof. “My lady, your horse is ready.”

  Draven gave her a long look. “Where are you going?”

  Aydra pulled her riding gloves from her belt and began pushing them on her fingers. “Would you like to stand here getting high and gazing at the fog on the beach or would you like to join us on hunting the beast this morning?”

  “Beast…” Draven’s amused voice trailed and he shook his head. “The Infi is but a man. Not a beast.”

  “A wretched man that should never have been allowed to walk this land on two feet,” she argued.

  His eyes narrowed across at her. “You’re joining the hunt?”

  “We’re relieving them. Myself and Lex,” she said as she turned towards the door. “Taking over for the night party. My brother’s men think they can have all the fun. They’re wrong.” She pulled the hood of her cloak up over her head and turned back to him. “Are you coming?”

  Draven considered her a moment, and then stuffed his pipe down his vest. “Do you have a horse?”

  Lex smirked at him over Aydra’s shoulder. “I think we can help with that.”

  The gallop of the horses’ hooves on the stone echoed in the still morning air. The fog licked at their feet and entwined through the streets. The sun was just peeking over the horizon in the east when they reached the beach. Rhaif’s men met them at the bottom.

  “To what do we owe the pleasure of the Queen on this morning?” Bard asked her.

  “You may take rest, Bard. My Second and I will take it from here,” Aydra told him.

  “I’m afraid I cannot do that, Your Majesty,” Bard argued. “The king—”

  “Is she not your queen?” Lex interjected.

  “Well… Yes, but we have orders specifically from the King to find the beast—”

  The deep chuckle from beneath Draven’s hood ceased Bard’s words.

  “Beast… again with that word,” he muttered. “If you’re looking for some great beast, you will not find it. The Infi are methodic, manipulative, secretive, and stealthy. You are hunting a ghost man, Belwarks. Not a beast.”