The Amagarians Boxset: Book 1-3

by Reid, Stacy

“I will free you,” he said, pinning them with his gaze. “Then you will kill the guards. If you are unable to do this, I will not take you with me.”

  The female whimpered, and he lowered his gaze to her. Knowledge gleamed in her gaze that he would not tolerate weakness and anything that would hinder him while he removed his mate from this vile place. She struggled to her feet, slipped several times in her attempts, before finally standing straight. The guards around the table paused their gaming to peer into the cage.

  She met his eyes steadily, and in hers, he saw pain, rage, shame, and a hovering darkness that hinted she was close to one hundred years. Her monster would soon be birthed, and dark satisfaction filled him for he sensed she would not suppress it. No…weakness would not be for her.

  “You, I will take with me,” he said, mildly surprising himself.

  Her dried, cracked lips parted on a sigh of relief, and a few tears trailed down her cheeks. “My family will be in your debt.”

  The guards launched to their feet, pushing back the table and chair with force.

  “Who do you speak to?” one of them demanded, scanning the area she stared.

  Lachlan moved, and with a mere blink from the guards, the two Darkan males were freed. The female was too weak to use the shadow space to leave the cage, but the men did not hesitate to roil with the darkness into the maze hallways. They were weak and bloodied, and even without the use of their beast, the control of their element—darkness and shadows—as they fought the guards was impressive.

  The female stepped to a fallen guard and painstakingly removed his armor and his clothes. Lachlan offered no help, watching her and assessing her strength. Nor would she require it at this moment. Her lips were flattened in hard, determined lines, and her shoulder shook with silent sobs as she tugged on a shirt that fell to her knees. She tipped her head upward and breathed deeply before shifting to him.

  “I do not believe the dungeon can be escaped from.”

  The battle had ended, and her siblings did the same, clothing themselves, and looking to him for guidance.

  “I am Lachlan Ravenswood, Archduke of the Darkage.”

  In their realm, men were given rank for their might and power, and at his pronouncement, the hovering despair which had still clung to their chakra vanished. They snapped to attention, slamming their closed fist across their chest in their sign of respect and deference to his power. Questions glowed in their eyes, but no lips parted, they merely waited for his commands.

  “You will stay in the shadow space and watch and be vigilant unless ordered to fight. There are other Darkans here in the Empire working for the emperor.” He pinned the men with his gaze. “Your sole job will be to ensure your sister leaves this place alive.”

  They nodded, their eyes lowering to his tattoos, then back up to his face.

  “You do not have your demons yet, but when you encounter the enemy, you will show no mercy. My mate is within these walls, and my sole attention will be for her.”

  Then he went to each guard, four in total, who had been incapacitated but remained alive. He shook them conscious one by one, staring into their eyes. They cringed with terror and whimpered. He reveled in their fear and misery, then he ripped their still beating hearts from their chests.

  9

  The mass of snakes pulsed and slithered away with surprising speed. Shilah did not betray any alarm at the re-emergence of Lachlan, a fact that pleased her immensely. She doubted five minutes had passed since he left the cage, and her frantic pacing had not helped her shattered nerves. She had restrained from reaching out to Kala, not wanting to offer her false hope of rescue or that he would have indeed returned for her. Shilah held up the great torch, the flickering light dancing over the play of his muscles. Blood splattered his chest, face, and his mouth. The flame dipped as her hand convulsed.

  Do not react. Do not react. It took every ounce of courage she possessed to step to his side. “Did you find the princess’s guards?” She was impressed at how calm her voice sounded.

  He did not speak. Instead, there was a press against her thoughts, and a shadow crossed her mind, dark and sinister. Shilah forced herself to hold still and to accept the soft probe against her mental shields. The shadows shifted and then she was clasped from behind. She dropped the torch, sucking in a harsh breath as the sensation of plummeting hundreds of miles down created the dizzying sense of vertigo. The rough scrabbling of claws scraping the cavern side seeking a foothold reached her ears. Their descent slowed, and the grinding sound of his claws burrowing into the rocks traveled down echoing into the cavernous darkness below. They came to a sudden stop that had Shilah gasping for breath in the darkness.

  A burst of breeze caressed her face, and then a great torch was held out to her. She gripped it and looked around the labyrinth. There was no doubt they were underground, the tunnel they stood in wove like a maze in several directions. He rolled forward with animalistic grace into one of the darkened maze-like entrance. After a slight hesitation, she followed swallowing her trepidation at the gore that splattered the ground.

  She did not want to know what had happened. Her determined steps slowed the further they walked into the tunnel. The light from the torch unveiled the specks of flesh, bones, and blood that lined the floor and smeared the wall. Her breathing sounded loud and shallow even to her own ears.

  Had he done this?

  She sensed he was close by, yet she could not see him. The great torch’s range only went so far. Shilah heard clamoring ahead and quickened her pace. Even though seemingly alone she did not want to linger in the body-strewn tunnel. She rounded a bend and gagged fighting not to spew. A horrid smell permeated the air beyond the scent of fresh kill. Recovering from the smell she took note of her surroundings, her throat worked, but no sound came out. Shilah could only stare at the carnage. Bodies littered the ground, but she could not decipher limb from head. They were in pieces. Blood and bits of flesh painted the walls, ceiling of the tunnel in a macabre testimony of the brutality of their death. A soft whimper escaped her lips, and her stomach roiled in dread.

  She spun around, held the torch up and stared at him. He was watching her in that cold, unflinching way of his. He could have offered them a clean death, why would he do this? She sucked in a harsh breath as a revelation flowered inside. He was a Darkan, his kind fed on pain of others, and now she understood a little bit more as to why they were so feared by everyone else.

  There was another dark brush against her mind. She hesitated briefly, before opening her mind to his along their unique connection.

  “Tell me, mate, are these men the ones I seek?”

  Shilah flinched. His voice throbbed with such awful power it was almost unbearable to connect with him mentally. She lifted the torch, assessing the cage where two men stood, watching them, their expressions flat and hard. They were warriors or had been. The clothes hung on their thin frames, and several wounds covered their bodies. Yet there was fierce and determined resolve stamped in their gaunt and weary faces. She scanned their minds carefully.

  The monster has returned

  Why is he back?

  I must prepare if he attacks.

  His speed is unfathomable.

  Sweet mercy, who is she?

  She is enchanting.

  She is with the demon.

  What is happening?

  Are we being rescued?

  Is this my death?

  The voices of several more prisoners seeped in, flittering through her mind with stunning speed. Their fear and uncertainty grated at her and glancing around she quickly lit several of the torches mounted on the wall of the labyrinth. Perhaps a mistake, for the tunnel was now lit, and the gore was unmistakable. She identified the source of the smell, it was rotting flesh. In several cells lay the dead, mangled bodies of prisoners. The smell of death and decay was intense and overwhelming. The psychic echo of their pain lingered, and with a shuddering breath, she reinforced her barriers. “The prisoners are confused as t
o what is happening,” she said aloud, so the nearby prisoners could hear, and perhaps she might have relieved some of their fear. “They are not sure if you are here to kill them or rescue them.”

  “Neither.”

  She glanced at the cruel edge to his mouth. “Neither? I thought you had a rescue mission?”

  “Of the two guards, your sister, and the witch. No more.”

  Of course. “We seek Kamu and Thyon of Boreas, the realm of winds and mountains.”

  “Who is asking?” the man she already knew was Kamu demanded.

  His eyes and voice were heavy with suspicion and hope as he clung to the bars of the cage.

  She mounted the torch in a holder behind her and stepped closer to the cage. A hiss rode the air, and she froze, shooting Lachlan a quick glance. “What is it?”

  His cold eyes slowly moved from her to the men who had backed up.

  “I won’t get too close,” she whispered across his mind, uncertain as to why she felt so warm inside.

  She shifted her attention to the men. “I’m Princess Shilah Symonrah of Serange, and this man is Archduke Lachlan Ravenswood of the Darkage.”

  That is no man, but a beast.

  She closed her minds to their racing thoughts. “He was asked by Princess Saieke to rescue you.”

  The two men faltered into complete stillness, and then hope blasted from them, their aura’s contracting from yellow to pure white.

  “Is this true?” the one called Kamu demanded gruffly, staring at Lachlan.

  “Princess Saieke of Boreas is the mate of Drac El Kyn of the house Dragos. As her mate, he must see to her happiness always. The princess will be happy with your rescue.”

  The men glanced at each other, disbelief, and shock evident in their posture. Shilah flared her telepathy, gently brushing against their minds.

  Our princess with a monster. I must find a way to free her from their clutches.

  What was our princess thinking? A Darkan? How is our kingdom dealing with this?

  “Is Princess Saieke a prisoner of the dark ones?” Kamu asked, a green hue of fear and anxiety pulsing through his aura.

  Lachlan’s flat gaze encompassed them. “Shall I inform her you preferred captivity?”

  The men fell silent, sharing several glances with each other, clearly assessing if it wise to trust the Darkan.

  “Kala, where are you?”

  Her sister replied immediately. “You are alive! Do not ever close our pathway to me again, Shilah. I’ve been mad with worry. Did he…did he hurt you?”

  “No, and I am free of the cage. I will tell you all once we find you.”

  “We?”

  “He’s helping me escape.”

  “Why?”

  “I am his mate, and I think that makes me very important to him.” The echoes of her sister’s shock beat at her. “I will speak with you soon, Kala. Prepare to flee. Can you sense the people around you?”

  “Yes. I can feel the aura of dozens above and below me.”

  “I will find you. Be ready.” Then she pulled her mind from her sister, but careful to leave the pathway not so shielded.

  “Kamu, Thyon…Lachlan Ravenswood has sworn an oath to see you both safely to the princess,” Shilah murmured. “Now we must hurry, for time is of the most crucial essence.” Possibly more than an hour had passed since the emperor left her with the Darkan alone, so surely his return was imminent.

  The men nodded, and then jerked as Lachlan appeared behind them without breaking down the entrance of their cage. Shadows swallowed them, and then within the blink of an eye, they stood before her. The men looked too pale and gaunt.

  “Do you have enough strength to flee?” she asked worriedly.

  “We will crawl on our knees if we have to. How will we escape this place?” The one she identified as Thyon asked.

  Shilah glanced at Lachlan, instinctively reaching for his thoughts, and assessing his plans. “We will search every crevice for the weakest spot,” she said.

  “And how will we find that?” Kamu muttered.

  “It will be the place in the dungeons with the most guarded protection for the very fact it is the weak link. We will also need a witch. Several of the dungeon’s entrances are protected by enchantments.”

  They nodded glancing at each other, lips firming in determination.

  “My sister is on the third level of this dungeon,” she said glancing toward the Darkan. “I need her with me, please.” Then she sent him all the impressions gathered from Kala, even though Shilah sensed he did not need them.

  And then Lachlan simply vanished and reappeared with her sister. Shilah stared at him helplessly. How was it possible to move with such speed?

  Kamu and Thyon gaped, glancing at each other, communicating some message silently with their eyes. Instinct made Shilah read their thoughts, grimacing at their deep mistrust and fear of the being before them.

  “Shilah!” Kala sobbed, rushing into her arms.

  They hugged fiercely, and she peeked at him over her sister’s shoulder. “How did you find her so fast?”

  The hard edge of his mouth softened into a small semblance of a smile. “You wish to know more about me, mate?”

  She frowned at the rich underlying pleasure in his tone. To say yes felt like a trap she did not understand, and the pressure to understand what being a mate meant loomed with more intensity. And that she did not have time to process now. Instead, she replied, “Thank you, Lachlan Ravenswood.”

  She pushed her sister from her and gave her a reassuring smile then made quick introductions. Shilah gleaned from Thyon’s thought he was struck dumb by her sister’s beauty for he hadn’t spoken, just stared at her. And confoundingly her sister blushed.

  “I will travel ahead and ensure the path is clear. I will be twenty paces ahead at all times,” Lachlan said.

  His voice was such a menacing rumble. Her sister paled, not looking in Lachlan’s direction.

  “I know it can be unnerving,” Shilah said to her. “But I believe him when he says he will not hurt me. And he already knows harm to you will devastate me.”

  Her sister nodded slightly, and in that eerie way of his, Lachlan disappeared with the shadows, but Shilah could sense him ahead somewhere even if she could not see him. Everything felt so uncertain. They were not remotely safe, and while it had been relatively easy to escape the cages, escaping the depth of the enchanted dungeon would be a different matter.

  Shilah moved forward, moving swiftly along the tunnel corridor, her sister and Kamu and Thyon keeping pace. As they hurried through the tunnel, the prisoners in their cages stirred, and she could see the aura of hope surrounding each pitiful body as they sensed an escape was underway. Ignoring the sorrow and the regret beating through her heart, Shilah flared her senses wide seeking the enemies and hoping they were not running into a trap. It occurred to her that she wasn’t as frightened as she should be, and she owned it to the presence of the Darkan. Her heart leaped at the awareness she trusted him with her safety.

  A deep sorrow and agony pierced through the second level of her mental barriers, the emotions so sharp she stumbled, before faltering. Her sister almost ran into her back.

  “What is it?” Kamu whispered, also grinding to a halt.

  Without answering, Shilah turned around and went back up two cells. A young girl, a child really, clung to the bars of the cage, her grey eyes full of pain and fear, her lips sewn shut. Shilah brushed her mind against hers.

  “Your name is Raven,” Shilah said softly. “You are eighteen years of age. And you’ve been in this dungeon for six weeks.”

  The girl’s eyes widened, and tears spilled down her cheek.

  “Yes, I can hear your thoughts.”

  The girl's hand gripped the bars of her cage so tightly her knuckles turned white.

  “Oh, please, please help me!”

  Her cry of terror and desperation swarmed through Shilah’s thought. She read the torture she’d had to endure, the pain and
degradation at the hands of the guards. “Your entire family is in this dungeon. Your parents and your younger sister.”

  The girl nodded, her desperation creating an aura of dark yellow tinged with red.

  “I do not know if they are alive, or where they are,” Shilah murmured, reading her concerns.

  The girl started to weep. The sound muffled and ugly but filled with such bleakness her throat hurt. She carefully opened the unique pathway that had been formed. “Lachlan?”

  She jerked as he instantly appeared before her. Brilliant, glittering golden eyes with swirls of blue, green, and red ensnared hers. “We cannot leave them,” she whispered, so everyone in their party could hear.

  A sigh of relief escaped Kala, and it was then Shilah sensed how much it had pained her sister at the thought of leaving everyone else to suffer. The white light of hope slowly surrounded the girl’s aura, and she gripped the cage harder, pressing her gaunt frame into the bars.

  “Why?”

  There was something immovable about him at this moment, something harsh and unrelenting, and she hesitated. Then she lifted her chin. “I can feel their suffering, and it is terrible. There are fifty-two prisoners in this tunnel alone, and with just a slight opening of my thought to theirs, their agony is unbearable. I cannot read any horrible crime from their sad thoughts, only that they have angered the empire.”

  “You want to show mercy to people you do not know?”

  There was a silence, long and empty.

  “You wish for me to show mercy?” This time he asked it softly against her mind. Yet she heard the vein of puzzlement. As if the very notion was anathema to him. Worse as if kindness was something foul.

  “Have you no heart, Lachlan Ravenswood?”

  There was a sudden dark, malevolent feeling in the air, heavy and oppressive. Kamu and Thyon shifted restlessly, and her sister shuffled closer to her. Lachlan did not remove his gaze from hers.

  “I do…and it beats only for you.”

  Something hot and unknown tumbled inside her stomach. “I see.”

  “You will not be weak, mate.”