by Reid, Stacy
“Thank you, Novar,” she said, glancing at him.
He nodded, clasping his hand behind his back. “I will have rooms prepared. I’ll have your chamber placed next to mine.”
Her eyes jumped to his, and in his gaze, she spied a feeling that was far too intimate. Lachlan’s promise of death should another man touch her burned through her memory, and Shilah bit back her groan. Not that she was even tempted to entertain her former consort, but she had enough to deal with and now had to add rebuffing his advances to the mix. Their moment had been over fifty years past, and it still shocked her that after all that time, he wished to renew his advances.
“There is ample room in our hovercraft for Kala and me. Your castle is not as contained as it should be, and the secrecy of our presence will be compromised there. Below ground, we will be as safe as possible until we meet with the Senate.”
He hesitated, then said, “That could be days, Shilah. I will work to have the assembly soon, but I cannot promise less than three days. An underground hanger is not fit for you.”
“It will do,” she said firmly. “Our ship has all the necessities to provide for us for a few days. And it will raise suspicion if you are seen coming down here.”
With a soft sigh, he made his way to a door, scanned his eyes, and stepped through when it opened. It closed behind them, and Shilah turned to the craft, reaching out with her telekinesis to the dashboard enclosed within and entered the code that would power the craft and activate Arrow on the vessel.
The hover hummed to life, the sleek silver craft emitting the softest frequency as it powered up. They walked up to the ramp, and the door opened, sensing the signature of both. They went on board. Within the craft it was designed for relaxing comfort, the main room was softly furnished in shades of pale blues with a carpet of deep green and windows out into the night. Shilah barely glanced at the main cabin her mind concentrated on instructing Arrow where it was to take them and what it was to do.
“Welcome, Princess Shilah, Princess Kala,” a melodious electronic voice said from the speakers of the vessel.
“Arrow, I need all views and angle of the city upon the monitors,” she ordered her PSI. “And the laws enacted since the rebellion on bloodline inheritance and separation of powers.”
“Permission to access the city’s mainframe, and great archives princess,” he replied, the walls of the hovercraft rippling as a holographic computer screen opened in the center of the ship, a blue light glowing at its center.
“Permission granted,” Shilah said, flowing over, and swiping her fingers across the large screen which had displayed the laws of the kingdom as outlined by her ancestors and read for several minutes. The law was clear, and the rule of Dxyriah would soon return to her bloodline.
“Shilah,” kala said softly.
She closed her eyes and faced her sister. Kala’s dark red hair was tangled around her face, and bruises were evident under her eyes. “You look tired, Kala. Get some food from the processor, and then rest. The next few days will be challenging.”
Kala looked on the verge of tears, but she squared her shoulders. “We need to talk.”
“We do not.”
“Shilah please, I thought it insignificant and I—”
“You thought it insignificant to mention that Prince Quan, the only man to do so in over seven hundred years, petitioned for my brother to revise the treaties on bloodline inheritance and support such a motion to the Federated Coalition?” Shilah bit out furiously. “Or thought it insignificant even after our brother, his wife, our nephews, our uncle and aunt were murdered? You thought it insufficient to not tell me even after he attacked my coronation?”
The craft trembled at the wash of energy which leaked from her emotion.
Tears slipped down Kala’s cheeks, but Shilah felt unmoved.
“We scoured the files for evidence on who could have murdered Torren. We found no petition from Prince Quan and the Kingdom of Arcadia, so that means someone hacked our mainframe and stole them. But you knew the petition had been made to Torren, and the revelation of that knowledge would have pointed us to a suspect, and perhaps prepared us for the attack.”
“It wouldn’t have prepared us!” Kala cried. “If I had known…If I had known Shilah that Prince Quan would have acted with such cruelty, I would have mentioned it. I never dreamt of such betrayal. I was afraid….”
Shilah advanced on her, hot anger riding her. “Afraid that because I am an Impure, and I too hunger for life beyond duty to the realm, I would have…what? What would I have done, Kala? Ignored our history and laws for my selfish desires? Supported the prince in his request? Revealed my status as an Impure and the shame that I’d been hiding it for so long?”
Her sister ran into her arms and hugged her tightly. “I am so sorry,” she whispered hoarsely. “I was so stupid, and I did not think. I let fear and grief rule my actions when I should have been more sensible.”
Shilah returned the hug, wanting to scream at Kala, but also understanding what had driven her actions. Battling the emotions pounding through her Shilah thought logically. “Prince Quan did not plot this in weeks, Kala. Or months. This was years of machinations, and even if our investigators had been led to his door, I am certain he had a plan for that eventuality.”
She held her sister as she cried for several moments. “Come, let us wash, eat, and then get some rest. Dawn will be here within a few hours, and we can do nothing with our tired brains.”
They parted, and Shilah made her way down the long steel-plated corridors of the ship, and to her room. Pressing her palm to the identification pad, the door slid opened, and she stepped inside. Nothing had changed since she last saw it, the design was still programmed to her last request, blacks, and deep purples to match her depressed state at the time, and various images of her lost loved ones fading in and out with different patterns across the surfaces of the room. With a weary sigh, she made her way over to the bed and lowered herself.
“Arrow display starry skies and sounds of flowing rivers.”
“As you command Princess.” The calming sound of rivers filled the room, and the walls went ice black with the sparkle of stars from various constellations covering the ceiling.
Grief rolled over her like the roaring waves of an ocean. They spun through her, swarming her senses, and drowning her in pain. For the first time in months, Shilah allowed herself to cry unchecked, without berating herself for the weakness. She cried until her throat felt raw, her eyes felt swollen, a desperate hole in her heart that would not ease. Shilah did not understand it, but her chest pained her.
Frantically she rubbed at the spot and almost against her will, the mating thread flared to life, and with a sense of shock, she felt the resonance vibrated and reach through the stars. Her heart leaped with joy despite her determination to keep her perspective. Their thread opened even wider, and she became a stealthy shadow in his mind, powerful enough where it was as if she saw through his eyes. She watched him as he administered justice in the court of his keep. Two men who’d fought over a female had been ordered to fight to the death. Curled onto her side, exhaustion pulling at her, Shilah watched the two Darkans as they battled for hours, bleeding and torn, tired but each determined to be the conqueror.
Lachlan observed it all with impassive coldness from atop steps. His people stared at him, but instead of showing apprehension at the ruthless changes evident in him, admiration and respect flavored their chakras. As if he tired of the display, he ordered them to be thrown into the dungeon for three days to cool their ardor and then they would be released.
The crowd in the hall of the court solarium dispersed, and a Darkan appeared before him.
“I’ve found the warlord.”
The words came as if they had been said to her. A wave of primal vengeance and bloodthirsty triumph slashed through Lachlan and echoed through her bones. Their link vibrated harshly, reverberating with a discordant sound. Shilah gasped and closed the link, trembling.
Something dark and powerful slammed against her shields, and her throat closed. Damn her curiosity and her need for him.
No more, she silently vowed, as exhaustion and the stress of the upcoming battle finally pulled her into the comforting arms of sleep.
21
Hours later, Shilah jerked awake, startled to find she had fallen asleep without eating or taking a shower. The mating bond was quiet, the silver and darkness gently sliding against each other. She pushed from the bed, and stripped off the filthy clothes, removing the plait from her hair and allowed the long tresses to ripple unchecked to her waist. “Kala is all well?” Not that anyone could have breached their defenses with Arrow crewing the vessel.
“Yes. I am glad you’ve finally woke. Would you like to break your fast with me?”
An olive branch her sister was desperate for her to take. Shilah could read the guilt and the fear Kala endured and softened. “I will be there shortly. How long was I out for?”
“Almost fifteen hours.”
Shilah gasped. “Any word from Rah?”
“No. I’ve been watching the monitors over the city. All is silent. Too silent. It is as if our people are a shadow of themselves. The festival of lights is eight days away, and no preparations are being made. Prince Novar visited, and he’s summoned the Senate for an emergency meeting. He’s promised to join us in a few hours with updates.”
Shilah pulled from her sister’s mind and stepped into the shower chamber, the chromatic tiles cool under her bare feet. The glass compartment slid open, and she stood under the hot spray of water, instead of using the more efficient air-dry method.
Had Lachlan found the warlord? From the intent in him, she knew he planned to kill the man. Temptation rode her to open the link and spy on him once more. She fought it, and after several minutes of the hot water beating on her tense shoulders, she admitted it was a losing battle. Every single part of her, heart and soul, her logical mind, seemed to have an overwhelming desire to be with him. Unable to banish the need she opened her mind, dipping into the well of her powers and connected with him.
He was a swirling force of violent rage, one so icy she shivered. He fought somewhere unrecognizable and under the wash of sunlight. Even without his beast, Lachlan was a merciless machine as he shattered bones and tore out chunks of flesh, slicing through arteries and vocal cords and flesh. She pulled her mind from his, leaning against the walls of the shower.
The violence she’d just touched within him reaffirmed she made the right decision in leaving without making any promise to return after the unrest. Something sharp tugged at her chest. Their bond. She quickly snapped open her psychic eyes, fearful that he’d been hurt.
She frowned. He was no longer on the battlefield but within the Darkage surrounded by his friends, and the king.
She sensed the intent in him to consume the healing elixir from Boreas with the hope it would restore the psychic wall she’d shattered. Shilah pressed trembling fingers to her lips. He was ravaged with need of her. Memories of her scent and taste tormented him, and the only bloodlust soothed.
He tipped the gourde to his lips and consumed the powerful healing elixir. Bright blue energy washed from him, and then he stilled. Connected deep in his mind Shilah waited, her breath held.
“Does it work?” his friend Talon asked. “has your barrier returned?”
“No,” he growled, the bitterness in the sound struck at her heart, and unable to help herself, she lifted her hands and touched his face. It was a simple brush of psychic energy, but he stiffened, tipped his head to the sky, and inhaled deeply.
Shock tore through her. He had felt her touch.
A swirl of shadows and he disappeared from his friends. He stood atop their mountain looking north toward the portal. “Touch me again.”
The command burned along their link and she trembled.
“Did I imagine your touch? I am truly maddened by the loss of you?”
Every part of her ached for him, the giving lover, and the merciless monster.
He stood strong and powerful, but so lonely her throat ached. He stared unflinching toward the north, his familiar beside him, the beast’s head under his palm. Shilah Could see the river shining through the trees as he saw it, even hear the flow of it as it traveled to his ears, feel the cold bite of the wind as it kissed over his skin. Her body became so sensitive, so in tune with him, she could feel the breeze caressing his arms.
She closed her eyes under the shot wash of water, and it was as if she was transported to his side and connected to his soul. Shocking emotions poured from him. Sorrow lived in him, breathed in him. And it was all for her.
She touched his lips, and a snarl tore from his throat, for he had felt it. Snatching back her hand, she moved away. His turned his head, and it was as if he looked right at her. Their linked burned, flared with bright light and sinuous darkness.
“I feel your worry, my mate.”
And then he was inside her mind,
She felt him in her, just as if they were sharing the same skin, merged together so deep she didn’t know where he started, and she left off. She held her breath as his mouth drifted to her temple and then pressed his cool, firm lips to her ear. Then she reached for him, and the phantom disappeared.
“I miss you, Lachlan Ravenswood.”
His anguish roared across their link….and with a harsh sob, she tried to close their connection. He did not allow it, his raw power pouring through the thread. Shilah ignored him refusing to look at him, closing her eyes tightly as she completed her shower. She cupped a handful of water and watched it run through her fingers.
The feel of a phantom caress against her tender nipples, the press of a kiss against her lips, the stroke of his finger down her throat and lower to slip inside her body, was all in her mind, but she felt as if he was right there touching her.
She gasped, trying to pull away from the connection but he did not allow it, his hold on their thread ruthless in its intensity. His scent wrapped around Shilah like a tight embrace, hot, arousing and comforting. Her pussy became wet and heated, longing for his touch. Even from such an impossible distance, their link burned with a dark-silver fire, and when her eyes snapped open, he was right there in the shower, peering down at her.
Phantom arms caught her chin in his hand and tipped her head up, forcing her to look into his eyes. “I’m not going insane. You can feel and see me, just as I can see and feel you.”
“Yes,” she whispered, reaching out and touch him.
His eyes closed, and he shivered his pleasure as if she had really touched him. “I felt the heated pad of your finger on my cheek…I smell you, my mate.”
And she smiled, the ache in her heart easing. “I hardly understand it, but I miss you, Lachlan Ravenswood, quite desperately.”
He made no reply, merely watching her in that calm way of his. And then she felt it, kisses all over her body, nips, and licks as he fed her mind and aroused her body. The arousal in her built and built with no end in sight. She heard her own strangled sob of pleasure as if from far away. A wave of weakening hunger swept through her, and it was more for than just sex with him. She wanted to be held, to share her fears with him.
Immediately the burning need disappeared, and phantom hands hugged her from behind and flushed her to his chest.
“What do you fear?”
She wanted to tell him, rest her fears and doubts on his shoulders, always. She wanted to trust in his strength and not fear his brutality or retaliation if something were to ever happen to her. The pain of that realization had her body tightening until she was on the verge of shaking.
“Let me come to you.”
“Never.”
She stopped the flow of the water and using her telekinesis turned on the crystal spray which cleaned her body within seconds. Another pulse air dried her, and she stepped from the shower stall and went into the sleep quarters. She quickly dressed in a silver sari, conscious of her Darkan’s psychic eyes watching ev
ery dip and hollow of her body. His phantom touch brushed against her nape and her bared stomach, and she saw him as if he were there, as he dropped to his knees and pressed a kiss above her navel.
A sharp knock on the door had her spinning around, and Kala entered. Her sister faltered. “Shilah, there is a strange light glowing around you! What is it?”
The fire of their connection had engulfed her body, the thread humming with a sweet resonance only she and her lover could feel.
“It is nothing,” she said huskily, firmly closing their link, and marching from the room to prepare the arguments for the Senate.
The sweet scent of flowers wafted through her nostrils. Shilah knew she wasn’t alone the moment she woke. A wall of heat pressed into her back, and she wiggled, scooting back against the man that held her with such tender possession. His body felt as hard as valnetium, unyielding, his arms strong, surrounding her. His scent wrapped around her, and she purred, feeling safe, content. She felt him inside of her, a part of her. Every breath she drew brought him deep into her lungs.
“Did you sleep well, my mate?”
Lachlan Ravenswood’s low, husky growl shattered her sleepy contentment. Her heart lurched, her mouth dried, and a multitude of emotions jumbled through her—the most prominent longing for the man behind her. She inhaled deeply, and it took several moments to realize he wasn’t there. A peculiar loss scythed through her heart. There was a deep part of her that hungered to see him beside her. It had been five days since she’d been in the ship, waiting for news on the Senate call to assembly. And each day, Lachlan visited her, or she’d slipped into his mind and visited him. There was always a sharp sense of disorientation, an awful tug of fear that he was really within Serange before she’d accepted what they saw was the Darkage, his touch, kisses, and loving words filled her soul for hours because of the strength of their mating bond and her tremendous psychic abilities.
