Hollen the Soulless: A Fantasy Romance (Dokiri Brides Book 1)

by Denali Day

  “Is there nothing . . .” Joselyn broke off. How to ask about an assassin? “ . . .to be done?”

  Lord Fury raised a brow. “Do you really suppose I haven’t considered that?”

  Of course he had. The testimonials were likely arranged to be sent out in the event of Lord Viridian’s sudden death. Joselyn’s gaze dropped to the floor. “No.”

  “Do you know what this dilemma means for our house?” he asked. “For our people?”

  Joselyn nodded, fingering her necklace. Should her father’s activities be made known, Marcus would be executed and the lands and titles of all his family would be stripped. It would be the end of House Fury. As for its people? No lord’s people were better fed or protected. Though Joselyn might have wished for a warmer father, her people could never want for a more effective lord.

  Her eyes stung as the full weight of her duty settled upon her. This wasn’t about Joselyn, or her happiness. She was grateful for the darkness of her father’s chamber, grateful he couldn’t see the tears welling in her eyes. She blinked them back and rose shakily to her feet. She smoothed her gown and resumed a dignified posture. The posture of a noblewoman, a persona she’d perfected over eighteen years.

  “I am prepared to serve you, milord Father, as only a daughter can.”

  “Indeed. You’ll do your duty for the good of your house. And you’ll do it without complaint. This world owes you nothing, Joselyn. Remember that.”

  Her stomach clenched. As if I could ever forget.

  “Would you know anything else?” His eyes were clouding over with that familiar haze, the one that said she’d been taking advantage of the great honor of his time.

  Joselyn knew what she wanted to say. What she wanted to ask. Is this enough for you, Father? Am I enough?

  “When do I depart?” she asked instead.

  “In three days.”

  2

  Better Forgiveness Than Permission

  The crisp autumn wind blew against the shutters of the rocking carriage. Golden sun streamed through the cracks in the limber, though it put off no warmth. Joselyn drew her ermine lined cloak more tightly around her shoulders and tried to ignore her maid’s constant chatter.

  “He favors knives, you know? That’s what the cook said. I’ll bet he’s sharpening his favorite ones right now. Big curved ones with jagged teeth!”

  “You have quite an imagination,” Joselyn muttered, pressing her head against the lattice window. What she wouldn’t give for an hour of peace. She had already sought out every rumor about her intended before leaving Fury Keep. In the three days since then, she’d heard them all over and over again. Even her maid must have been getting bored, because her retellings had devolved into morbid speculation.

  “Do you think he’ll wait until we’re alone to start cutting at us? Or will his attendants be invited to watch?”

  “Enough, Dina!” Joselyn whipped toward the little maid. “We’re not obscure peasants tucked away in his hamlets. Even if everything you say is true, the Lord of Brance will not harm us. It gains him nothing and loses him everything.”

  “Won’t harm you, of course! You’re too valuable. But what of me? I hear The Butcher favors blondes.” Dina clutched at her yellow braid.

  Joselyn rolled her eyes. “You volunteered to come.”

  “Of course I did. To be first maid of Lady Fury as she establishes her new household? How could I turn that down?”

  “Then listen well, Dina. I’ve had enough of your doom-speak. If you can’t think of anything uplifting to say you’ll keep your silence for the rest of the journey.”

  The maid crossed her arms and pouted in the corner of the carriage. Not five minutes passed before she began humming the tune to “Pray Ye Maidens, Fair,” a ballad about noblewomen being ravaged by blood-crazed marauders. Joselyn gritted her teeth and kicked open the carriage door. She pointed at the guard riding closest. “You! Bring me my white.”

  “Milady?”

  “I’m riding,” Joselyn snapped, jumping from the carriage.

  The man frowned. “Milady, if you wish to rest—”

  “No, Captain,” Joselyn cut him off. “We will continue. I simply require some air.”

  The man hesitated, then whistled, waving to those at the back of the procession. Joselyn’s mount, a pale vision of speed and grace, was led up to the carriage side where she paced. Joselyn ran her hand over his withers and some of the tension eased from her body.

  “Hello, boy.”

  So long as he received his oats, Morningstar wouldn’t plague her with anxious prattle. Joselyn climbed into his saddle. The guard glanced at the carriage. “Surely you’d like your maid to attend you. I’ll have another mount brought.”

  “I’m sure I would not,” Joselyn said. “I’m going to ride at a distance. I’ll be gone but five minutes. Ten at most.”

  The captain was opening his mouth to reply when Joselyn spurred her horse into a canter. When cowing someone to your will, it was better to say less and do more. Her father had taught her that much.

  Better forgiveness than permission.

  Still, she shouldn’t push the men too far. They had a duty of their own, to protect her. She urged her horse along the top of the hill where she could easily be seen by her guards.

  Her ancestral lands were breathtaking. The autumn season was early and the hills still rolled green. The land was kept fertile by streams of sweet water said to be blessed by the gods. Forests of brilliant red and orange trees sent their leaves sailing upon the wind like burning embers. The backdrop to all this was the snowcapped Crookspine Mountains. No matter how far they traveled, the immense mountain range never seemed to move.

  When she’d reached a good distance and felt adequately alone, Joselyn steadied her mount. They swayed together as he shifted their weight, nickering. Joselyn breathed the cold air and closed her eyes, reveling in the peace. It took only moments for a new voice to invade her thoughts.

  “The deficiency of your sex has put a target on my back. It was only a matter of time before something like this happened.”

  Her father’s words echoed. Joselyn had spent the past three years since her mother’s death wondering why her father hadn’t yet taken a second wife. After the accident that claimed Lady Fury’s life, Joselyn had expected him to make begetting a proper heir his greatest priority. But he hadn’t. And now she knew why. He had a lover, and not an easy one to scorn. Now he may never be free to take advantage of his wife’s death. How justly ironic.

  Her father was right about one thing. If she’d had a brother, this would never have happened. She wouldn’t be riding off to marry the Butcher of Brance and she’d never have this chance to demonstrate who she was, or what she was willing to do. To prove her parents wrong.

  That was something for all this misery. Her fists tightened around the reigns. Joselyn was not deficient, woman or not. She’d fulfill her duty as well as any son. Better. And her father would live with the knowledge that, for all his imperious lecturing, she’d been the one to save their house from his recklessness.

  She opened her eyes. Fixed on the mountains ahead. So distant, cold, and silent. Joselyn hadn’t cried the day she left Fury Keep, and neither had her father. Only Tansy had wept. If the old nurse had been a spinster, Joselyn had no doubt she’d have picked up and followed. As it was, Joselyn would meet her future husband—her fate—with her father’s guards, an insufferable maid, and no one else.

  She’d never felt so alone.

  Morningstar nickered, his white ears flickering back and forth.

  “What is it, boy?” Joselyn leaned down to stroke at his strong neck when the horse reared on his hind legs. She gasped, clutching at the reigns.

  A violent gust bore down on them, and Morningstar, who’d been battle trained by the finest horse masters in Morhagen, let out a whinny that sounded more like a scream. Joselyn’s heart skipped a beat. She caught the bit in her hands and urged Morningstar back down. Just as she managed to ground h
im, a great shadow swooped up from the valley below her.

  What was she seeing? Was that? No. It couldn’t be! A massive black dragon hovered not twenty feet above them. Its mighty wings sent a cyclone of wind all around. Joselyn’s mouth fell open. Her red hair whipped about her face as she stared up at the winged horror. The scaly beast shrieked, snapping its fang-lined jaws at her.

  Morningstar bolted before Joselyn could think to spur him on. She barely managed to keep her seat as the animal raced back toward the procession. Ahead, her guards were scrambling. Some appeared to be forming rank and the rest were notching arrows.

  Joselyn leaned low on the horse’s back, willing him to run faster. The blasts of air intensified rather than diminished, and Joselyn risked a glance above her, only to see wicked claws extending in her direction. The sun was totally eclipsed by the giant creature’s raven scales. She couldn’t even manage a scream.

  The dragon seized her; its talons encircled her waist and yanked her off her steed. Morningstar bucked as her weight left him. Joselyn’s body folded in half as the monster changed directions and began a rapid ascent.

  Her guards scattered below; some fired arrows. Stretching her hands toward the earth, she cried out to them, “Help me!”

  The howl of the wind drowned out her voice. Another breath and her escort was so far away, they appeared as tiny dots scurrying around the carriage. No. This can’t be real. Can’t be happening. The dragon shrieked, sending a shot of ice down Joselyn’s spine. When they burst through a cloud, Joselyn knew she was on her own.

  She flailed. Her first instinct was to attack the beast. One touch of its iron scales destroyed that hope. Next she tried to pry the creature’s grip open. She strained against its inky claws before understanding that, even if she could free herself, she would plummet instantly to her death. She forced herself to breathe against the creature’s crushing grip and craned her head backward.

  Its belly was covered in plates black as onyx. If it bore any other coloring, Joselyn couldn’t tell from her low vantage point. It appeared to have only two legs, both of which held her to its body. Its wings were each composed of five long spines which connected a thin layer of flesh together. She could almost see the sun through that skin, the light illuminating the beast’s thin, obsidian veins. There was no doubt she was being carried by a dragon. She stole herself against the urge to faint.

  She’d heard tales of such beasts. The dragon was the sigil of her house after all, but never had she actually seen one. Precious few had. Joselyn despaired. She was unarmed. Even had she been the greatest of warriors she’d stand no chance against this monster when it finally released her. The thought sent fresh terror through her body.

  Will it drop me? Devour me as it hovers above some foul nest?

  A flash of something dark caught her eye. Was that leather? Joselyn squinted. The beast was entwined in a wide band of some sort, like a saddle strap laced under the belly of a horse. A vague memory tried to surface, but Joselyn was too panicked to call it up.

  Beneath her, the earth was gone. In its place was a shining sea of golden clouds. The sensation of looking down at what her mind told her should be above, made Joselyn’s stomach blanch. Icy mist saturated her cloak and her flesh stung with cold. As they soared past another vapor, Joselyn suddenly realized their destination. Mount Carpe, the tallest peak in the Crookspine Range, loomed ahead. The mountain was said to hide great riches and be home to all manner of ancient devils. She knew now that at least one rumor was true.

  The mountain’s terrible stone face glared at them. They were at least halfway up. Her heart pounded in her chest as the beast began to circle a gradual descent. The earth below was gray rock. Its blanket of snow grew thicker as it climbed toward the peak. They spiraled and a wave of nausea rolled over her. The contents of her stomach rose into her throat. Joselyn gripped the dragon’s claws for support and willed the bile back down.

  What’s happening? What’s it going to do to me?

  They were nearly to the ground, but instead of landing, the dragon leveled off and picked up speed as it soared across the earth. So close to the ground, Joselyn could see how fast they were moving, and it was all she could do to hold on.

  They were headed straight for a stony cliff face. Joselyn’s eyes widened. Just as she thought she would die, plastered to the side of the mountain, a dark crag came into view. A cave waited, suspended hundreds of feet into the air. Joselyn let out a sob of relief.

  With incredible grace, the dark creature sailed deep into the cave’s opening. For a moment, she was totally blinded by the sudden darkness. She could hear the dragon’s wing tips gliding along the rocky edges, though they didn’t catch. At last, the dragon landed with the soft crunch of gravel beneath its feet. Joselyn’s ease was short lived as her eyes adjusted.

  The dragon held her parallel to the ground. She was suspended several feet above it, arms and legs dangling awkwardly to the side. Whimpering, Joselyn pried at the creature’s talons. Hysteria loomed as she jerked and bucked, desperate to get free. The beast let out a deep growl, and the cavernous walls reverberated with the sound. Joselyn stilled. Her mouth went dry.

  Back home, in a moment of weakness, she’d briefly considered if death would not be a better alternative to marriage with the young lord Viridian. A lifetime of misery and possibly violence. She knew now, however, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she did not want to die.

  Please, gods! Please!

  A thud echoed through the cave. Joselyn listened over the sound of her heart hammering in her ears. Heavy footsteps. Where were they coming from? She swept at the pieces of red hair that had slipped their elaborate coif and blocked her vision. The footfalls were nearly upon her now. Her fear pulsed like a living thing, threatening to consume her. Unable to do anything else, Joselyn squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Velsa lagi.”

  A deep male voice spoke in a language Joselyn didn’t recognize. Her eyes sprang open just in time to see a massive man staring at her. Suddenly, she was released. Joselyn fell into his waiting arms. She clutched at them, steadying herself, then looked into the darkest eyes.

  Eyes that threatened to consume her.

  3

  Bride by Right

  He was the wildest thing Joselyn had ever seen. Standing well over six feet tall, he wore leather, studded armor over layers of rich pelted fur. A double-bitted axe hung belted at his side. His dark hair was pulled tightly into a bun, away from his bearded face.

  He stared at her with such intensity that Joselyn wondered if she should be more afraid of him than the dragon standing behind him. His grip on her tightened ever so slightly. She had her answer. She planted her hands against his broad chest and began to thrash. “Put me down!”

  The man merely stood there holding her, as though the monster at his back was of no concern to either of them.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked in the trade tongue. His deep voice was cool and even.

  Joselyn barely processed what he said, her attention fixed upon the dragon who was turning to face them. She gasped. Its face came into view, and the beast was all the more terrifying with its yellow eyes fixed upon her. Though smaller with its wings closed, it was easily the length of three stone cottages and as tall as two. Its skinny tail swayed back and forth. Three razor-sharp barbs whipped with it. A serpentine hiss passed through its monstrous teeth as it tasted the air with a forked red tongue.

  “Please.” Joselyn whimpered.

  The man set her feet down and let her go. The moment she was free, Joselyn bolted. She made it all of three strides before a wave of vertigo had her skidding to the ground. She barely caught herself with her hands. Those same heavy footsteps from before approached. Joselyn felt through the black gravel for a rock. She wouldn’t be trapped again.

  His hand wrapped around her arm and Joselyn swung back. Her own hand crashed into the side of his face. The impact sent him groaning back on his heels.

  Bleeding skies!

 
Joselyn’s hand throbbed, but she didn’t hesitate. She released the rock and turned to run deeper into the cave.

  Cracks in the stone ceiling sent golden light pouring to the ground, illuminating her path as she went. The moss-covered walls grew closer together the deeper they stretched. She had no idea where she was going, only that she had to find somewhere small to hide. Behind her, she could hear footfalls in pursuit. Joselyn was already running as fast as she could.

  Ahead, the path disappeared before a great stone wall. It sloped back slightly before reaching a plateau some twenty feet high. Her pursuer was nearly upon her now. Without slowing to search for a foothold, Joselyn threw herself upon the rock. Her hand caught a small crevice, and for a moment she clung to the wall. But seconds later she lost her grip and slid back to the ground. Behind her, the footfalls halted. Joselyn spun and backed into the wall.

  The man stood panting. A trickle of blood trailed from his left temple into his beard. The dragon hadn’t followed. She could no longer see it around the twisting path that had narrowed nearly to a tunnel. That gave her some comfort, but now her attention was fixed upon the man before her. Joselyn had to tilt her head up to see his face. She knew there would be rage burning in his dark eyes. Violence. But . . .her brows drew together. There was no anger in his expression. The man stood with his palms open, extended in a placating gesture.

  “Shh! It’s all right,” he said.

  Is he concerned? For me?

  “Don’t touch me!” she spat, and cast her gaze around for a way to escape. There was none. The savage man had her cornered.

  “Don’t run,” he said, his voice thick with a guttural accent Joselyn didn’t recognize. “I won’t harm you.”