Reign (Roam Series, Book Six)

by Kimberly Adams

  I found my voice, my heart beating too, too fast. “Cut me loose, and give me my sword,” I ordered, unable to mask the vehemence in my tone. “Make this even.”

  “Bitch!” He slapped me, and my face whipped to Logan’s. The tenderness in his eyes kept me from crying out, and when the floor began to shake, I turned back to West.

  His knuckles were white, his eyes were dark shades of amber, and his expression was beyond terrifying. I’d never seen him so angry in my entire life.

  “That is your downfall. You will never be my equal. You will never rule.” He hissed, spittle touching my swollen lips with his proximity to my face. I turned my face to the side, cringing. “West!”

  “Majesty,” my husband managed, moving toward me.

  “Release my brother. As for my queen.” He bit out the word queen with such hatred, I winced. “Sixteen lashes. One for every year of her wretched existence.”

  West moved behind me, slicing through my ropes with his knife. “I’ll see that she is punished," he swore obediently.

  West was leading me from the room by my upper arm, and I quickened my pace to keep up with him. When we reached the darkened corridor, he swung me behind a pillar, tenderly reaching for my face. “I’m okay-”

  “When I kill him for the last time, I’m doing it slowly,” he murmured, his fingers examining my cheek and eye. “And if he hits you again, I’ll bring this castle down to a pile of rocks.”

  “Is that what you can do? You can move objects, make earthquakes?” I needed to know what he was capable of. He nodded once, focusing on my face.

  “Come with me to my father’s tower. I’ll tell you everything.”

  “What about Troy’s orders?” I gripped his surcoat, bunching the material, and he pried my hands away to kiss them.

  “I’ll figure it out, Roam.”

  The tower was darkened, and I wondered if Asher would even be awake at the late hour. Before we could knock, the door was opening, and he ushered us inside.

  “Quickly,” he managed, and West’s hand settled against my lower back, leading me forward. I fought the urge to turn to him and beg him to hold me, knowing there was little time.

  “Father.” West pulled me into his arms, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Troy has ordered her to be whipped. Sixteen lashes. I can’t let that happen.”

  Asher’s head shook slightly, and he pointed at the bed. “My son possesses a great love for you, my queen.” He stepped forward, gesturing to my stomach. “This is my grandchild, I presume.”

  “Yes,” West acknowledged, tightening his grip on me. “What can you do to help us?”

  “Lie down,” he said to me, and I nodded, moving to the bed as the old man made his way to a table filled with bottles and books. West pushed pillows beneath my head, trying to make me more comfortable. As I stretched out on my back, his hand moved over my stomach, cradling, and I lifted my eyes to his.

  “When I take us out of here, I’m taking our baby, too.”

  His words brought tears to my eyes, and I reached for him. He pressed his forehead against mine, gathering me to his broad chest.

  “You can take us out of here?”

  “Yes. I jumped through time when I was gone, and I just have to learn to control it.”

  I squeezed my eyes closed, intoxicated by the warmth of his neck. “I felt you gone. I felt it in my body, West, in my heart. I wanted to die, and Logan… he was missing Violet, and…”

  “Don’t.” His voice rumbled in his chest. “I don’t want to think about him, or Troy, or anyone else touching you.”

  “Now.” Asher’s voice interrupted us, and we turned to him. “My son, I have enchanted the tip of this quill. Your majesty, you will feel some sting,” he said, noticing my terrified expression before turning back to West. “Remove her gown and comfort her as I draw the quill across her back sixteen times. What you see will disturb you, my son, but be courageous. She will assure you that she endures little pain.”

  “How bad? Like the numbers?” I shuddered to think of getting the numbers on my sensitive back sixteen times. Asher looked to me in confusion, and West jerked his head back to his father’s.

  “Stop if she tells you to,” he ordered, and the man nodded. I sat up, modestly covering my chest as West pushed the gown over my shoulders. After locking eyes with me for long moments, he turned to Asher. “No. Please leave us. I’ll do this on my own.”

  Asher drew back, his trembling hands holding out the quill. “Very well. Long, crossed. The lick of the whip.”

  West nodded, accepting the quill as Asher moved toward a door near the window. I moaned, the candlelit room only adding to the atmosphere of fear. “I’ll… roll over,” I managed, and he caught my chin in his hand, lifting my face to his.

  “Breathe.” He whispered.

  “I’m afraid.”

  “There are other things to be afraid of,” he comforted, and I nodded, letting his kiss console me. Finally, I took a deep breath, turning to lie awkwardly on my stomach.

  With one hand, he flattened his palm over the back of my neck, holding me steady. Slowly, I felt the quill pull across my skin. I fully expected the excruciating pain of the numbers, but instead, the sharpened pen felt almost good. “It doesn’t hurt, West.”

  “Jesus Christ, baby.” He stopped, pulling away, and I turned to him. Blood dripped from the quill, and I narrowed my eyes.

  “It just feels like you’re scratching my back. It feels good,” I promised, pressing my face into the bed.

  “Okay.” His eyes flashed from sapphire to amber and then back to the familiar blue as he lowered the quill again. “Stop me if it hurts.”

  He worked quickly, swearing under his breath, and I could only imagine the terrible, mangled mess that my back was becoming. When he finished, he shouted for Asher, and Asher returned to the bedside.

  The man peered at me, wincing. “I’ll see to the wounds. Go and fetch his majesty; he’ll want to know that the punishment has been carried out.”

  “I’ll shove this fucking thing through his eye if he touches her.” West gripped the quill, but Asher’s hand, shockingly quick, slapped down on his son’s forearm.

  “Be in command of your temper, my son.” His grave expression moved from West to me, and then back to West. “I know there is powerful magic at work here. I know that you are not the son I raised, and this maid is not Madreenon’s princess. I also know that his majesty’s brother is not the man he was a few short months ago. Something has happened, and his majesty is but a pawn in this war.”

  West stared him down, his eyes flickering in color, and Asher drew a short breath.

  “You were training me, in magic.” West’s compelling voice always made me think of the way he’d teach in front of a classroom. Asher looked at me nervously, and my husband waved his hand in my direction. “You can speak candidly in front of her. You’re right- we’re different. From another time. And that sixteen-year-old girl is my wife, and I won’t let her out of my sight again.”

  Asher nodded slowly, his blurry eyes sparking with a hint of excitement. “I was teaching you magic. A magic that is in your blood. A magic that you have little control over. Your petulance and obstinate nature have forced me to end your lessons and wait for your maturity. Your twenty-seventh-year approaches. ‘Tis time you conduct yourself with modesty.”

  He stared. I listened, unable to believe what I was hearing, even while lying in another body, in another time, in another universe. The story was slowly coming together in pieces, and all the questions I’d toiled with over the years suddenly had real answers.

  “Well, I’m going to need the abridged version. Now.”

  Asher gestured to me. “I must bandage her bleeding.”

  “I’ll do it.”

  “You have no knowledge-”

  “I’m a goddamn surgeon. I know what I’m doing. You are the one who brought this all upon us. You tried to save us but have inadvertently sealed our fate. You’re going to help me
save her.”

  Asher smoothed his beard, looking over me, reflecting. “The maid with fiery hair, and eyes like emeralds. Like your own. Who is she? I see her in my dreams.”

  “Eva,” I whispered. “Our daughter. She sent us here. We’ve been waiting for her to bring us back.”

  Asher nodded slowly, finally tapping his tall cane at the ground once. “Troy approaches. I’ll see to her wounds. Modesty, my son.”

  West barely made it to the door when Troy burst in. He took one look at me, and then West, and the seething anger sent him roaring, attacking West before he had a chance to defend himself.

  “How dare you strike her? For God’s sake, she is the queen, and with child, I will see you beheaded,” Troy hissed.

  West ducked and turned, slamming the young king against the stone wall in one ferocious movement. “You ordered me to whip her.”

  “I know what I did. I regret this punishment!”

  “You are insane.” He released Troy, and I drew a shuddering breath, frozen in shock at the sight before me. Troy and West, immortal enemies, growling at each other, brawling like brothers.

  Troy turned his face on me, and two furious tears rolled down his cheeks. He’s crying? Jesus… “I am. She has stolen my mind and my heart. Mina,” he staggered to the bedside, and I stiffened as he dropped to his knees. “Please, forgive me. Your skin,” he started to reach for my back, but Asher called out.

  “I will see to her wounds, your majesty.”

  “Heal her. Please.” Troy turned his face to mine, and I held my breath as his mouth pressed to my swollen lips. “Mina, I forgive you, please forgive me, please,” he begged, tearful, and so filled with regret.

  I looked to West. He stood, fists clenched, glaring at Troy.

  “Troy,” I began, tentatively touching his bowed head. He lifted his face to mine. “Your reaction to my… indiscretion… was natural. I do not blame you.” I tried to find all the sincerity I had left, unable to look at West. “Let it be as though it never happened.”

  “Yes,” he agreed, and he was kissing the crown of my head, looking over my back in disgust. “Are you in much pain?”

  “Yes.” I nodded, gripping the mattress as tremors began in the floor. “Please allow the magic to heal me.”

  “Anything, my love,” he assured me, standing and wiping his face with the back of his hand. He turned to West. “I am sorry, my friend. You have served me loyally, and deserve gratitude, not hostility.”

  “I will resume my position as guard to her majesty. I will not leave her side.”

  His words were Neanderthal, grunted, unrecognizable. Troy nodded, clasping his hand over West’s shoulder.

  “Then, she is safe.”

  “You were right to pardon your brother,” West added. “You are a wise king.”

  Even from across the room, I could see the restraint West managed, and the gratefulness in Troy’s expression.

  “Thank you, my friend. Asher, when she is well, I am to be summoned immediately.”

  “Yes, your majesty.”

  He turned back to me once before sweeping out of the tower chamber.

  I exhaled slowly, and Asher began mixing something at the long, wooden table. West knelt at my side, where Troy had been only moments earlier. “He’s out of his goddamn mind.”

  Reaching for his hands, I gripped them, resting my cheek against his warm palm. “You’re here now, that’s all that matters. You give me strength, West. You always have. You make me believe that I’m more than what I am.”

  He kissed my forehead, so adoringly, holding my head in his hands in the comforting way that I loved so much. “You’ve always been strong, baby. We’re just stronger together.”

  I gazed at him as Asher returned to the bed. He mumbled something to West, and then turned back to me.

  “Hold on,” West whispered, locking my wrists in his strong grasp. The white-hot pain began at my neck, smothering my back and stealing my breath. He gripped my hand, his intent gaze meeting mine. “Breathe Roam-”

  “It hurts!” I cried, turning to scream into the pillow.

  “Stop-”

  “It is almost done, my son,” Asher promised.

  I couldn’t remember how to breathe. The familiar ringing in my ears stole my consciousness, and I allowed myself to faint.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Eva

  I stood before Meredith, my entire being just aching to hold my new daughter. Will was tied with invisible chains to the chair next to Meredith, and Eric sat in Will’s throne.

  The chanting outside the stone walls drew my attention; I looked at Will in confusion, and Eric only laughed.

  “They’ve turned on you, imposter. The entire kingdom rallies for your death. They now know that you brought the sun to end their world, not their winter. You have no friends here.”

  Helplessly, I looked to my husband again. “What about Will? They love him. They have always loved him.”

  “They now know the truth; their king betrayed them in the name of lust.” The smug satisfaction on his face boiled my blood. “William is very much like his father, after all.”

  I was thrown to my knees before them like a beggar, and Will growled, trying to loosen his supernatural binds. “And now, Eva will bring him back.” Meredith ordered, impatient, placing one hand over Will’s. “It is time we had our revenge on our father.”

  The baby’s cries echoed from down the corridor and through the hall, and I jerked toward the doors. “Is my baby okay?”

  “She is fine. She is with the other children, and several maids are seeing to her wellbeing,” Eric snapped.

  I nodded, stumbling as the floor around me suddenly rumbled and rose about three inches above the ground. Gasping, I clung to the edges of the pedestal beneath me, lifting my terrified eyes to Will’s.

  Eric laughed, lifting his hand, and the small section of the stone floor jerked upright like an elevator.

  I was more than twenty feet from the ground.

  My mouth went dry, and panic seized my lungs.

  “Eva, you are safe-” Will began, and Eric silenced him with a wave of his hand.

  “Look at her fear,” Meredith tittered, standing and moving toward me. I looked down at her, cursing myself for staying on my knees and gripping the edges of the platform. She peered up at me, thoughtful. “Natural born fears are much more frightening than realized fears.”

  I inched forward, aimed downward, and spit in her hair.

  “Fucking child,” Eric cursed, and suddenly my entire body swung around, and I clawed at the platform, screaming as my nails refused to find purchase. I was falling; the stone below would surely break my bones, and this time, immortality would not heal me.

  Just before I hit the ground, I stopped short in the air, suspending myself from the floor. Amazed, I stared at my hand, smiling as my magic seemed to take on a life of its own.

  The Beastie Boy’s Sure Shot began, and Will exhaled a puff of relieved laughter. Meredith’s furious expression swung to Eric, and he cut off my music in an abrupt halt.

  “And now,” she cringed, patting at the wetness in her dark hair, “we see that you are capable of doing what we ask… when your life is at stake.” She turned to Will, and my husband was up on his feet, no longer restrained by Eric’s power. “And when your loved ones are threatened, you do our bidding very quickly.”

  “Don’t hurt him,” I cried, rushing forward. She turned suddenly toward the glass coffin in the corner of the throne room.

  And I knew.

  “No, please-”

  Before I could lift my hand, a shattering explosion sent me stumbling backward. Will caught me in his arms, and I covered my mouth, screaming as Eric set Violet’s body on fire.

  “My God… Meredith, stop this!” Will shouted, and Eric laughed, sending one more burst of fire that completely consumed my sister’s body.

  She was gone.

  Violet was truly gone.

  The rage worked its way
through me as my frequency peeled through the echoing castle. Eric snarled and aimed his hands at Will. I dropped to my knees, finally breaking down and sobbing. “Stop. Stop. I’ll bring Troy back, but I need to go and get him. I don’t know how to just retrieve him from thin air.”

  The fire crackled over the glass, and the smell of my sister’s flesh punched me in the stomach. I gagged, brushing at my tears.

  Meredith stared, those dead gray eyes unsettling. “There, there. Very well then. You have three days.”

  “What?” I gripped Will’s arms, climbing to my feet. “Time moves faster and slower in different worlds and I don’t fucking know which one it is!”

  “Well, then, I suggest you move rather quickly.”

  “I need to go back to my world,” I fired, turning to Eric. “It’s like… retracing your steps, when you lose something. Let me go back to my world, and then go through the ocean. I know I can get to them through the ocean.”

  “Absolutely not-” Eric began, but Meredith silenced him, the bloodlust in her dark eyes boiling to life.

  “Why not? She has no one to help her in her world. I hold her family captive. Her sister is dead. Her infant’s life depends on my satisfaction.”

  Her words were a landmine to my temper. The opposing forces within my heart pushed and pulled against my conscience. Appeal to her, don’t anger her, my father’s words mused logically from somewhere deep inside.

  Growling, I threw my hand in the air, and yanked my powers from the base of my neck. The throne room melted away, and we were in a bedroom in the castle, a child’s chamber. The yellow, flickering candlelight on a bedside table was the only illumination in the entire space, and a little, dark-haired girl lay in the massive bed, shivering and crying.

  The scene unfolded before us like we were in the middle of a movie set. Back home, I had managed to turn the club into a music video many times, and now, I had no problem fishing around in Meredith’s fucked-up mind.

  A door to our right drew our attention as the shadow of two booted feet appeared, and Meredith screamed in unison with the child in the bed.