Ashes of Dearen: Book 1

by Jayden Woods

  A whirlwind of pleasure seemed to whisk Fayr away as she kissed Chief Darius. Her head spun and her body grew light as if floating into the heavens. The gale stole her breath and teased her with bursts of fleeing air. Behind her she left all reason, logic, or sense of orientation. She flew in ecstasy and could not escape it, even if she wanted to. Indeed, she felt she should, for across the room the khan’s corpse lay fresh on the floor. She had nearly been raped and certainly she shouldn’t … be feeling … like this …

  Darius’s hot hands pressed her shoulders to the bed, and for a moment she envisioned that Darius was a furnace and herself a wind gushing against him. They fed from each other in a violent give and take: a flame and the air that nourished it. And they could lose themselves in each other if they were not careful.

  “Darius,” she gasped.

  “Don’t.” He pressed his hips to hers. She groaned with the desire to wrap herself around him and envelop him completely.

  “Don’t what?” She ran her nails across his jaw. She felt his desire pulsing against her. She felt his breath against her skin, his muscles clenching against her flesh.

  “Don’t call me that.” He kissed her again, smothering all words with his tongue. He gripped her with the strength of a hundred men. He held her writhing body in place and lashed her neck with his lips. His mouth closed over the tender skin of her throat.

  “Oh gods ...” She didn’t care what he wanted her to call him. She just wanted him to take her. She wrapped her thighs around him and arched her back, scraping her sensitive nipples against his chest. “Fuck me, please ...”

  With a jolt that made stars explode in her eyelids, he obeyed.

  She yelled from the torrent of pleasure and pain that rushed through her. He filled her so completely she thought she might burst. Her skin burned and tingled as if it could not contain the intense stimulation. He groaned and sagged against her, as if experiencing a similar strain. It was as if he tried to hold himself back, then failed. He locked both knees against hers, adjusting their angle on the bed. He strengthened his hold on her hips then thrust into her hard and fast.

  Somewhere in the midst of it all, Fayr’s ecstasy must have climaxed, but she hardly distinguished that moment from the ones before and after. She only knew that she struggled to maintain her sanity while her body blazed with sensation. Darius stifled her moans with his mouth against hers, stealing her breath as he quickened his pace. Finally he erupted inside of her, a satisfied growl rumbling from his throat even as the last jab of his hips pushed her over the edge. He exhausted himself with a low exhale and released her to gravity.

  Fayr fell back on her pillows and out of the dizzying whirlwind. Reality returned as she breathed deeply of the rain-sodden air. Her body struggled to relax, feeling cold and warm all over, still throbbing from the stimulation. Chief Darius collapsed next to her, his breath ragged, his clothes half-off. Fayr turned to look at him, and every glimpse of his skin sent a new ripple of desire through her aching nerves. In her attempts quell it, she found herself trying to make sense of what had just happened.

  Earlier tonight, she had touched herself in anticipation of a moment like this one. Then there followed Leonard Khan’s violent entry, his painful struggle with her, and finally Darius’s unprecedented response. How had this humble chief killed the khan of all Vikand so easily? How could a man so gentle also be so strong and violent? The dichotomy excited her, even as it frightened her.

  Rain hissed outside, blanketing the silence of the dead and the heaving of her own breath.

  She reached out to Darius but he did not respond. His flesh was like stone under her fingertips, his eyes distant. A cold shock went through her; her lingering feelings of joy transformed into doubt and she curled in on herself, shivering. Soreness plagued her all over, and she knew she would show bruises in the days to come. She didn’t even know how many had been caused by the khan, or Chief Darius.

  Darius sat up suddenly and blinked at her. In an instant, his face softened. “Fayr. I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

  “No. Well ... yes.” She laughed nervously. “But I didn’t mind, at the time.”

  He looked around the room as if realizing where he was for the first time since entering. “Gods. What just happened?”

  “I think it’s pretty clear.” She smirked at him. “You killed the khan, then you fucked me.”

  His eyes glazed over again. His mouth enveloped hers and his hands pressed the slope of her stomach. He grabbed her hips and held her in place, even though she made a faint attempt to push him away.

  “Darius. Darius!”

  He withdrew again, clutching his head, then shaking it as if to fling off a spell. “Damn it, this wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t my plan at all. This ruins everything. If Picard finds out ...”

  “You know Picard?”

  He went very still.

  “Well of course you do,” she amended. “He’s the khan’s own son, after all.”

  Darius jumped off the bed and roared up into the ceiling. “FUCK!”

  Fayr’s heart pounded within her. She wasn’t sure if she could handle Darius panicking right now. Her own state of mind was too fragile.

  For a moment neither of them spoke. Only the hiss of rain and the flutter of curtains filled the silence. Flickering candles fought off the darkness of night. Then Darius bowed his head and starting pacing. “We have to get rid of the body,” he said, “or hide it.”

  She nodded. “Yes, uh ... I suppose you’re right.” Right now, however, it took all her strength just to collect her clothes and pull them back on her body.

  “Meanwhile we need to seal off this hallway,” he said. “We let no one through.”

  She said nothing to that. She didn’t want to point out the futility of such an effort. How useful had her guards been against Leonard Khan? Had they been deaf to her cries for help? Truly, the fact that she’d needed Darius to save her from this predicament was an embarrassment. She had wanted the whole world—including Darius—to perceive her as a more powerful princess than she really was. But that illusion was crumbling.

  “I’ll talk to them now,” she said, rising.

  “No.” He put a gentle hand on her shoulder, pushing her back onto the bed. Her legs were so wobbly that she folded easily. “You need to recover your strength. They shouldn’t see you like this.”

  “Yes, you’re right.” The realization only mortified her further. She shook her head at herself and let out a snide laugh. “Look at me: one of the last two remaining Violenese in all the world, the princess of the richest kingdom of the three nations, bruised and tattered, without a clue as to what to do next. I thought ... I thought that if ...” A tremor wracked her suddenly. A sob squeezed her throat. “I thought that if I pretended to know what I was doing, everyone else would play along. But that won’t work anymore, will it? After this storm ... everyone will see the truth.” She glared at the khan’s cold body. “If only I had killed him myself ... but I couldn’t get to my baselard. I’m not completely helpless, you know. I killed the Wolven who attacked my family. Did you know that? I stabbed him myself.”

  Darius did not move for a moment. His voice was gruff when at last he spoke. “Get dressed. Stay here until I return.”

  She complied, and in truth she was grateful for a brief time alone—even if she must share the room with the khan’s body. As she dressed, she heard thumps and scrapes outside her door. It sounded as if Darius was pushing something heavy through the hallway. Next, the echoes of his voice vibrated through the wood, and its tone reassured her, for she sensed that he had found her own guards and was giving them instructions.

  What would have happened if not for Chief Darius? Leonard Khan would have taken her. Then he probably would have forced her hand in marriage. She would have done everything in her power to stop him, of course, but to what end? After all, a union with Vikand could have been to everyone’s benefit. She shuddered to imagine such a fate, and yet she
realized with some shame that she had never given the thought enough weight. Perhaps for the good of her kingdom, she would have to make personal sacrifices.

  Now dressed and groomed, Fayr leaned over Leonard Khan’s body and spat upon it. She had dodged one poor fate, at least, and it was thanks to Chief Darius. Perhaps if Chief Darius could save her from this scenario, he could be of use to her in others, as well. That would all depend on whether they could survive this disaster in the first place. But if they did, then perhaps her fate would require no personal sacrifice whatsoever.

  As she looked down at Leonard Khan, Fayr noticed something for the first time. The Khan’s Collar was gone, his bare throat blue from the pull of Darius’s whip. But how could that be? He had worn the collar when he attacked her, she remembered that all too well. He wore it always, so far as she knew. So where was it now?

  Her searching eyes found the piece of metal gleaming nearby. She moved closer to examine it.

  The creak of the door interrupted her thoughts. She turned to see Prince Kyne coming through. A man loomed behind him, silhouetted by the hallway torches.

  “Fayr!” Kyne ran to his sister and embraced her. Fayr had been so mad at him of late, but as his little arms wrapped around her, her anger dissipated. He wasn’t so little anymore, really. He was growing all too quickly. He wore a soft silken cape that settled over them both.

  “Oh Fayr,” cried Kyne. “This is all my fault, isn’t it?”

  “What? Don’t be ridiculous.”

  He drew back to look at her, his fingers digging into her arms. “This happened because of what I said at dinner.”

  “What do you mean, Kyne?”

  “This wasn’t your fault,” said Chief Darius. He stepped out from the darkness of the hallway, having been there all along. “This happened because the khan attacked the princess, and he paid for that crime with death.”

  “You don’t know anything, fool!” Kyne swirled on the chief, his little cape billowing. “And don’t speak unless you’re spoken to!”

  “Kyne!” Princess Fayr stood up, all her anger returning to her. “This man just saved my ...” She almost said chastity, then realized he had taken that right after preserving it. “This man saved me. He deserves your respect and your gratitude.”

  “Like hell he does. He’s the one who has thrown us in the shit hole.”

  “Just a moment ago,” snapped Fayr, “you blamed this all on yourself. So which is it? What were those words you said at dinner, anyway? What is their significance? Krenz ... u ... ?”

  “You should be careful.” Prince Kyne jutted his chin up. “The words hold magical power, and clearly, I should use them sparingly.”

  “Don’t test my temper, brother!” Her fists clenched at her sides. She’d had enough of this attitude. “You’re going to tell me everything you know, or—”

  Darius reached out and grabbed Prince Kyne by the front of his shirt. He moved so quickly that Fayr did not know what was happening until Kyne thrashed against him and Darius’s fingers crept round Kyne’s neck.

  “Darius—!”

  Darius jerked upward with his hand, then pulled something off Prince Kyne’s head.

  “Hey—!” Kyne flailed again, his hand smacking Darius’s wrist. But it was too late now. Darius held a necklace with a key dangling on the end, and he lifted it high for the princess to see. Kyne grew pale with defeat.

  “The key to the dungeons!” gasped Fayr.

  “I suspected as much,” said Darius, and placed it securely in her palm. “It appears your brother has been hiding it from you.”

  Fayr closed her fingers around the jagged metal, her grip tightening with fury. She did not speak for a long while. She had never felt so betrayed in all her life.

  “You’re right,” she said at last, her voice barely a whisper. “This was your fault.” She could feel her own eyes blazing as she pointed them at her brother.

  “Fayr ... Fayr, you don’t understand,” gasped the prince. “You don’t want to go down there. No one should have to go down there. Father said so. That’s why he gave me the key, the night before he died. He said I needed to protect you from the truth. He said he planned to take us both to the dungeons the next day. He said he would show us some of the ancient rites for making safra. But he said the full truth was too terrible for you to know about. He said ... he said ...” A little sob burst out of his lips. “He said I had to carry that burden myself.”

  “Father misjudged me,” snarled Fayr. She squeezed the key so tightly that pain spiked up her wrist, but she didn’t care. “And he misjudged you. You clearly couldn’t carry the burden, Kyne. But I could have. Truly, you both gave me no choice. I had to carry the burden: the burden of your own ineptitude. While I’ve been scrambling to keep this country afloat, you’ve hidden away your knowledge and the whole kingdom has suffered for your selfishness.”

  “Fayr ... !” Kyne’s chin quivered with despair. But she felt no mercy for him at all.

  “It’s true, Kyne. You have been selfish, cowardly, and altogether useless ever since Mother and Father’s death. I don’t really give a shit about ancient rites or even how safra is made, anyway. Not anymore. Because this isn’t my problem. It’s yours.”

  She grabbed Kyne’s hand and thrust the key back into it.

  “You’re going to fix this, Kyne. After today, I don’t care if you ever make safra again. But today you’re going into the dungeon, and you’re taking the khan’s body with you, and you’re going to do ... whatever Father taught you to do. You’re going to make safra.”

  Kyne looked in terror from the body, to Darius, and back to Fayr again.

  She gnashed her teeth until her head hurt. “You do know how, don’t you?”

  “I ... I ...” He gulped. “I’m not completely sure.”

  “How can you not be sure?”

  “Father, he ... he gave me a scroll. He called it the Safra Script. He said I should try reading it on my own; that if I was blessed, the gods would speak to me through the words and he would never have to explain them to me. But I’ve read the words over and over, and I don’t understand them. I ... I ... I don’t know if I’m blessed or not.”

  Kyne’s confession frightened her, but she couldn’t let that show right now. The storm outside was fading. The soft yellow light of dawn crept through the window curtains. “Don’t be silly,” she snapped. “You’re a Violeni. You have the words. Just say them. And do it now.”

  “You’re not coming?”

  His words stung her to the quick. How dare he ask that now, after all these weeks of not sharing anything with her? “I can’t. I must attend to our guests. I need to renew some of their passes, and reject quite a few others.”

  “I’ll go with him,” said Darius.

  “What?” screeched Kyne. “You’ll do no such thing!”

  “Yes he will.” Fayr took a deep breath. Darius’s offer surprised her, as well. But it made perfect sense. “You’ll need help to carry down the body, Kyne. And right now, I trust Darius more than anyone else in the world.”

  Darius bowed his head, surprised by this acknowledgment. Perhaps she shouldn’t have been so blunt, but it was true.

  Fayr turned back to her brother. “And you may need protection. If the khan’s sons find out about any of this ...”

  “Protection?” Kyne batted his purple lashes. “But the Haze ...”

  “Is probably gone by now.” Fayr walked up and put her hand against Kyne’s cheek, not so much to comfort him as to force his gaze onto hers. “I’m depending on you, Kyne. Make enough safra to see us through this.”

  Kyne nodded reluctantly. “I’ll ... I’ll do my best.”

  He turned to go, and Darius made to follow. Fayr reached out and gripped the chief’s hand. For some reason, she had not noticed until now how coarse it was, as rough and firm as rocks. “Please, keep him safe.”

  Darius didn’t answer, but turned to collect the khan’s corpse.

  14

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