by Stacy Reid
Tehdra’s lips flattened. Let him fall under any other blade except that of a Darkan’s.
She clutched the dagger sheathed in her knee-high boot and looked into the sky at the fiery redness of the sun, so powerful it suppressed the malevolence of the demon embedded deep inside her. Tehdra tried to find its essence and frowned. It could not be found.
It was utterly fascinating.
Until this mission she had never been exposed to the sun, always having access to her beast’s powers. It lay beneath her surface like an elusive glimmer of heat.
She peered into the convoy searching the shadows for the presence of Darkans, but there were none. Only her eyes followed the convoy on the ground as their Kun crawled past on the narrow cobblestoned cliff ledge. Each rider had on battle armor boasting the royal sigil with a hand comfortably resting on the hilt of their sword. The wraiths screeched, dipped and circled above the warriors, giving their protection from the air.
A snarl hummed low beneath her skin as her beast stretched. A beautifully savage smile curved her lips. A deep red splashed the sky as the sun sank. Rage uncurled inside her, and she shivered as the savagery of her darkness lifted its head.
As the last wraith flew by, her heart lurched. Raw power and magnetism rolled off the man in gentle waves. King Ajali Haddin. He rode the wraith he flew on with majestic grace, with a natural power that impressed her.
His warriors preceded him, confident in the knowledge that he did not need their protection. They returned from Boreas without the Princess. She had felt through their connection that her brother, Drac had somehow already claimed her as his mate. Strangely, King Ajali did not seem perturbed at his loss after pursuing the Princess so aggressively.
Tehdra flared out her darkness, sinking deeply into his essence, seeking and ferreting. No negativity leaked from him; mayhap they had misconstrued his interest in the Princess of Boreas.
Rage howled beneath the surface of her skin as the sky grew darker, effectively distracting her. She inhaled deeply, her breath hitching at a scent that teased her, making her demon beast stir hungrily. Tehdra held her breath when, with a flex of his thighs, the wraith stopped in midair. The King tipped his head and stared directly into the tree where she perched.
Tehdra held herself still. Shadows cloaked her form—it was her Shenkiri to wield, to control, it was impossible that he could see her. Heat rushed through her at the startling green of his eyes. The olive darkness of his skin against the color of his eyes was the most appealing combination.
Her beast shifted and lunged. In the dark mire of shadows, the most tantalizing fragrance rode the air to her, and as simple as that, Tehdra became enraptured. Her chakra pulsed, fangs punched out of her mouth as she looked at the King of Nuria, who could not possibly see her in the shadows, in sheer fascination.
“Mine.”
Fear tightened in her gut. “Impossible.” She exhaled, sighing when he whipped the wraith he rode, and they flew off towards his kingdom with exquisitely graceful power. Her demon roared, and a long sibilant hiss scraped against her mind.
“Mate.”
The End
Glossary of Terms
Ageni: The order of death placed on a person by the King of their nation if judged a traitor.
Aria: Kingdom of earth and sand. Citizens with good chakra control can control and manipulate all elements belonging to the earth.
Avindar: Kingdom of lightning.
Boreas: Kingdom of winds and mountains. Citizens with good chakra control can control and manipulate the wind.
Caelum: Kingdom of water. Citizens with good chakra control can control and manipulate water.
Cerja: A tattoo of a Demon beast with which each Darkan is born. It is located on the right shoulder blade on non-bonded Darkans but covers the entire back and spills to the front in bonded Darkans.
Chakra: Life-force used to form mystical techniques by molding and releasing the physical and spiritual energy present in the body—gained from training and experience.
Consort: The lover of a member of the royal family. Held in high esteem by peers of the realm and it is considered a privilege to be chosen as a royal consort. A consort must be of equal rank before royal scion can wed him/her.
Darkage: Kingdom of darkness and shadow.
Demons: Powerful, malevolent spiritual beings composed of pure chakra. They come from the Demonage realm, and their spiritual essence can be found in Darkans.
Flash: The art of using one’s chakra to move with such speed it appears as if one blurs.
Keni: A powerful mystical technique unique to the head families within a kingdom. This technique can be gained only through inheritance from a particular bloodline; hence, the term “bloodline keni.”
Mevia: Kingdom of sound.
Nuria: Kingdom of eternal fire.
Ricarkri: Formal name/title for the leader of each kingdom. Not every king is the Ricarkri. In such cases, the Ricarkri is the right hand of the king.
Senjis: Darkans that are taken over by their demon essence.
Serange: A parallel dimension to Earth and Amagarie. Their powers lie in the psychic plane (telekinetic, telepathy, bio-kinetic) and their method of warfare is with the mind. Citizens of Serange are referred to as Serangites.
Shenkiri: Mystical elements wielded by citizens of the seven kingdoms with powerful chakra control—elements such as shadow, water, wind, sound, fire, lightning, and earth.
Shiktre: A unique skill to the Darkan population. The ability to use the shadows to move faster than the eyes can track.
Taijiu: The body art of dismembering and killing without the use of weapons—hand to hand combat.
Witchia: In other dimensions, they are called witches, powerful beings that conjure, incants and cast spells.
Eternal Flames
A Novel of the Amagarians: Book 2
Author Note
There are some terms unique to the series, so there is a brief glossary of terms at the end of this book.
Prologue
Amagarie
102 years After the Second Great War
Nuria outskirts-Town of Hoadecia
“My vision holds true,” the Serangite rasped. The cascading folds of the king’s seer’s elaborate blood-red robe trembled. “I see lands ravaged by war and death. Without access to the mountains of Boreas and their elixir, your kingdom will fall under the might of Mevia and Avindar.”
“Are you still unaware of the time this should occur?” King Ajali strode to stand in front of Ruxia, staring intently into her diamond-hard eyes as they darkened with power. Her abilities lay in the psychic plane, and it was a testament to his ruthless plotting that he had a much coveted Serangite in his army. The tent swayed under the sudden onslaught of the wind that battered outside, despite it being high noon and summertide.
“Yes,” she said, then shuddered from being trapped in her deathly vision. “I foresee your death at the hands of a black-haired temptress. She tears your throat out and drinks your blood in rage.”
Fire stirred in Ajali, but he suppressed his rage.
The silence in the tent became tense as he acknowledged her predictions. He strode to a great chair and slowly sank into its plush depths, gazing into the ashen face of his High Chancellor Bastien. The tent was starkly furnished with only an oak table in the center, three armchairs and a pallet for sleep. The only comforts required for their temporary camp on their journey home from the kingdom of Boreas.
Ruxia heaved as the vision released her. As a foreseer, her designation was that of an Omega—the second ring of power. She was not even close to being an imperial—the highest ring of power, yet he did not doubt her. Serangites were rarely wrong, if ever. Their method of warfare was with their minds, and they were incredibly powerful. What they lacked in physical capabilities they made up for with their mental dexterity. Besides, too many of Ruxia’s visions had come to pass. Ajali waited for her to compose herself before he spoke, “Dismissed.”
&
nbsp; She curtsied then walked through the opening of the tent.
Ajali met the eyes of his high chancellor who leaned against the oak table. “I need to find another way to have unlimited access to the Borean mountains, to their elixir.” Tension climbed higher as the leashed violence in his voice vibrated through the tent.
Bastien grimaced. “Who would have thought the Princess of Boreas would be the mate of a Darkan? You can no longer claim her as your blood oath queen to gain access to their elixir.”
Ajali scrubbed a hand over his face. All his plotting had been for nothing. “It was unexpected. I thought her lover would have been from Caleum, and then I would have had leverage over them that I could manipulate to my whim. The Darkans are always solitary, hidden in the darkness and shadows. It was indeed surprising.” And disastrous for his kingdom.
“The princess took the Darkan as her lover in the days she hid in the Darkage.”
“Indeed, she did, Bastien,” Ajali said, icy anger burning through his veins. He could not fail his people.
“Will you still attempt to take her as your own?”
Ajali chuckled, the sound hollow, menacing. “I have studied what little I could find on Darkan laws. If we took their mate, they would descend on us like the plagues of death and incite the next Great War to retrieve their mates.” The avoidance of war for his people was the reason he plotted to gain access to Boreas’ elixirs. Regret sliced through him, he had been so close to overcoming the prophecy. His realm would not fall. There must be another way to access those mountains, and he would find it.
Bastien strode to Ajali and clasped his shoulders. “How do we prevent the Serangite’s predictions without having control of the Borean Mountains, sire?”
How would he prevent the fall of his kingdom? “We plot, and we watch, Bastien. We plot and watch.”
Tehdra perched high in a tree on the cliffs of the Fyran Mountains, cocooned in the darkness she had summoned. Below her, a convoy moved with great speed. Some flew astride wraiths while others traveled on the ground on massive four-legged beasts—Kuns. The wraiths flared their wings in mighty arches, their sleek predatory grace mesmerizing. She had never seen the creatures this close before as she’d never been inside the Nurian’s royal palace where they were said to reside. She had been spying on the kingdom for days now. She sought to infiltrate, hide amongst the Nurians, and stop all threats against her kingdom—the Darkage, the realm of shadows. She also had to protect the Nurian king from any Darkan that shadowed his kingdom intending to kill him.
Tehdra’s lips flattened. Let him fall under any other blade except that of a Darkan’s.
She clutched the dagger sheathed in her knee-high boot and considered the sky at the fiery redness of the sun, so powerful it suppressed the malevolence of the demon embedded deep inside her. Tehdra tried to find its essence and frowned. The void was utterly fascinating.
Until this mission, she had never been exposed to the sun, always having access to her beast’s powers. It lay beneath her surface like an elusive glimmer of heat.
She peered into the convoy searching the shadows for the presence of Darkans, but there were none. Her body frozen on the tree limb, only her eyes followed the convoy on the ground as their Kuns crawled past on the narrow, cobblestoned cliff ledge. Each rider was dressed in battle armor boasting the royal sigil with a hand comfortably resting on the hilt of their sword. The wraiths screeched, dipped, and circled above the warriors, protecting the air.
A snarl hummed low beneath her skin as her beast stretched. A smile curved her lips. A deep red splashed the sky as the sun sank. Rage uncurled inside her, and she shivered as the savagery of her darkness lifted its head.
As the last wraith flew by, her heart lurched. Raw power and magnetism rolled off the man in fierce undulating waves. King Ajali Haddin. He rode one of the wraiths with lethal grace.
His warriors preceded him, probably confident in the knowledge that he did not need their protection. They returned from Boreas without Princess Saieke Shyokara. Tehdra had felt the connection with her brother Drac that he had somehow claimed Saieke as his mate. Something Tehdra never thought he would have done after their older brother Vlad had betrayed everything they stood for because he lost his mate, but Drac felt more at peace and adored his princess with a visceral intensity. Tehdra had once hoped to find her mate but had suppressed the desire, wanting no weakness, until her clan had atoned for Vlad's merciless slaughters.
Tehdra flared out her darkness toward King Ajali, deeply sinking into his essence, seeking, and ferreting. Strangely, no negativity leaked from him. The Royal, who had traveled to Boreas to claim the princess as his blood oath queen, did not seem perturbed at his loss after pursuing Saieke so aggressively. Perhaps they had misconstrued his interest in her.
Rage howled beneath the surface of Tehdra’s skin as the sky darkened, effectively distracting her. She inhaled deeply. Her breath hitched at a scent that teased her, making her demon beast stir hungrily. Tehdra held her breath when, with a flex of his thighs, the king stopped the Wraith in midair. He tipped his head and stared directly at the tree where she perched.
Tehdra held herself still. Shadows cloaked her form—it was her Shenkiri to wield, to control; it was impossible that he could see her. Heat rushed through her at the startling green of his eyes. The olive darkness of his skin shined like hammered gold against the glittering emerald; it was the most appealing combination.
Her beast shifted and lunged. In the dark mire of shadows, a most tantalizing fragrance rode the air, enchanting her. Her chakra pulsed, fangs burst from her mouth as she scrutinized the King of Nuria in sheer fascination. Her heart pounded with hard, driving beats within her chest.
Mine.
Fear tightened in her gut. Impossible. She sighed when he whipped the wraith around, and they soared toward his kingdom with exquisitely graceful power. Her demon roared with desire, bloodlust, and a long, sibilant hiss scraped against her mind.
Mate.
1
Nuria—the kingdom of Eternal Fire
Adara—the main city
A harem…I will need to be in his harem.
Taunting laughter echoed from her demon. With a ruthless will, Tehdra closed off the minuscule psychic connection she allowed. The beast was pleased it would be near the Nurian King. She was not. She had to join King Ajali’s harem to enjoy the freedom of movement needed for her mission. His haris, the concubines, possessed that which Tehdra desired—a free reign of the castle.
She had spent days trying to infiltrate the castle Shelah. Several times she’d come close to being detected after slipping past the king’s warriors—a feat she had thought impossible given her skill of being one with darkness. She had breached the inner walls several times and tried to enter the castle to no avail.
Somehow the warriors sensed her presence in the shadows, sometimes murmuring and asking each other if they sensed a witch—powerful beings who used spell incantations—or a Serangite, at work. She had assessed those who had detected her presence. Their chakra level had been stronger, and something else had buzzed within them.
With each ripple she’d created in the shadows, they’d grown more anxious until several guards had sent out an alert to be vigilant against attack from the mind and of the spirit. She wanted no alert; the order she had been given by her brother Drac, the Archduke of the Northern keep of the Darkage, was to remain undetected from the Nurians—a difficult situation with soldiers vigilant for an attack.
Tehdra snarled in frustration. She was a warrior, decisive and brutal, not a spy. She had needed a simple way to infiltrate King Ajali’s castle, and now it seemed she had to transform herself into a hari pleasing to the King. And this was the opposite of keeping her distance.
“Are you sure there is no other way?” she asked the man huddled beside her. Please let there be another way. The last thing she desired was to be so close to a man for whom her beast roared. Nothing must distract her from uncovering the tra
itors hiding in Nuria.
“I have been living in Nuria, Tehdra El Kyn, for twenty years. The castle Shelah is impenetrable,” Bylan said flatly, his dark eyes serious.
She had spent more than a week in Nuria, seeking her people in the shadows, and had discovered Bylan. He had established himself as a Nurian citizen, a respectable high merchant of Hoadecia, one of wealth who had sufficient influence to help her maneuver and infiltrate Shelah.
“Have you not been living in the town of Hoadecia?”
He shifted as if on edge. “I may have resided out of Adara, but many times I moved with the darkness arming myself with knowledge in the event it was revealed to the Nurians that a Darkan lived in their midst. I have learned much from the shadows.”
Tehdra considered his words. They were perched high in a massive tree buried in Nuria’s mountains gazing at the castle from a bird’s eye view, scanning all its entrances, traps, and weak points. She smiled in admiration. No weak points existed. She had never seen anything as impressive as King’s Ajali castle in all her three hundred years. The castle Shelah boasted a thousand rooms with several wings—one alone housed all the king’s concubines. Rumor had it that several hundred women—exotic beauties from the six kingdoms—existed in his harem to please his every whim. Now she found that hard to believe. What would one king do with hundreds of women? It was surely impossible that he could bed them all as stories whispered.
