by M. Dalto
The Dark Queen
Book Four - The Empire Saga
M. Dalto
Copyright © 2021 by M. Dalto
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Edited by Jennia Herold, Erica Farner, and Alyssa Barber
Designed by Shayne Leighton
The Parliament House
www.parliamenthousepress.com
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Be Part of the Prophecy!
The Parliament House
To the Empireborn—
This is for each and every one of you.
Keep dreaming. Always and forever.
Prologue
Welcome back, Empress.
Alexstrayna felt cold.
It wasn’t like when she had been outside for too long without an overcoat or a cape. Or as if she were caught out in the rain without an umbrella and the chill of the evening air had penetrated through her clothes until it reached her bones.
No, it was the feeling of waking up in the middle of the night after a nightmare, body slick with sweat and heart racing.
This was the chill of fear.
Wherever she was, it was dark. She sensed the cool smoothness of stone around her, yet when she cast her arms out she couldn’t feel any walls. From the smell of damp rock, however, she knew they were there.
And they were cold.
It was paralyzing. Instead of running, or trying to find a way out, she wrapped her arms around herself as if to retain whatever last bit of inner warmth she possessed. Huddled within those biting, stone confines, she tried to keep her teeth from chattering and her body from seizing.
Where was she? And how did she get there in the first place?
She had just watched the others pack and head off on their trek to the Borderlands. She and Jamison had stayed behind, and as they were returning to the palace…
Crystal.
She had approached them with no limp, no hobble, no sign of any outward injuries. In fact, the way she had snuck up on Alex in the palace gardens, catching her completely unaware, it was as though she hadn’t been in the infirmary just moments before, allegedly healing from wounds inflicted upon her by Lexan.
She remembered seeing Jamison in the distance, sprawled on the ground, immobile. And that man…
She had never met him before, but those eyes—they bore into her soul as if she should have recognized him.
A sob choked in her throat as her head throbbed with pain.
Mom!
Despite the ache, Alex’s head whipped upward, and she stared desperately into the gloom. Sarayna? What was she doing there?
She tried to gather her legs beneath her, but they felt like lead. The pounding in her head—it was getting worse. Alex had to warn her daughter and maybe Sarayna could at least escape whatever this was, could tell Reylor and Treyan…
“Alexstrayna.”
Her name echoed off the stones as if someone were there with her, watching her all along.
“Who’s there?” she rasped; her throat was raw as if she had been screaming. Had she? She couldn’t remember anything since her path crossed Crystal’s in the gardens.
A smooth, feminine chuckle resounded around her. “Oh, we are going to have a fine time together, you and I.”
“Who are you?” Alex demanded, her voice growing louder. She finally regained her footing and pushed herself up into a standing position.
The pain within Alex’s skull was almost unbearable, but her eyes began to adjust slowly, taking in what was, indeed, a room. The moss-covered walls confirmed the smell of dampness and the sound of trickling water could be heard. There was a brightening light above, shining through the darkness from a window. It was as if the suns were rising on a new day—like a dawning ray of hope that she was going to escape this hell. Wherever it was.
Although every muscle in her body was tense, as if the frigid air was eating away at her from the inside out, she started toward the light.
And that voice remained all around her.
Laughing.
“Until we meet again, Empress,” it said, just as that light exploded within the room.
For a moment, illuminated by the flash, Alex swore she saw a throne—a black marble chaise carved into the wall. Upon that throne was a female clad in black.
A woman wearing her face.
Before she could take a step closer to investigate, that light exploded not only in that dark room, but also inside her head. The brightness intermingled with the pain that had been building between her eyes, bursting like a million pins and needles through every pore of her body.
Everything went dark as Alex screamed.
Chapter One
For being vacant during most of December in Boston, Lexan’s apartment was unseasonably warm.
Lexan had lit the log fireplace soon after their arrival, using the last of the wood he had stocked before his return to the Borderlands. Sarayna wondered if it was truly to fight the chill, or out of the habit instilled within her brother from home.
Instilled within all of them.
The princess sat huddled in the armchair closest to the fire, wearing an oversized sweater borrowed from Lexan’s personal stash. She was grateful for the clean clothes provided to her once she finally showered after their unceremonious arrival to the Otherrealm, having not had the chance to bring any of her own.
Jared, however, was uncharacteristically aloof and outright refused to wear any of Lexan’s offered clothing. Convincing him to take a shower, despite their travel and time away from indoor plumbing, became an unnecessary battle. Eventually, the twins combined their efforts and the Emperor relented, though begrudgingly. Accepting a loose pair of lounge pants and a plain black t-shirt, Jared retreated into the bathroom to wash up, slamming the door closed behind him.
Sara turned to Lexan to offer her brother an apologetic look for her intended’s behavior, but he was already moving to his own room, closing the door behind him. Hearing running water turn on within, she assumed he was taking a shower of his own and let them both be as she found the chair and warmed her hands by the fire.
There she waited for Jared and Lexan to finish their respective showers. And Reylor…
Sarayna glanced over to where the Lord Steward stood in the kitchen, bracin
g his arms against the countertop of the central island, staring down at his hands.
He had remained like that since their arrival. She wondered if it was from the shock of traveling between the realms, which she believed was a first for him, or if it was because of the harsh realization of everything they had left behind.
Once the actuality of their arrival to the Otherrealm passed over them, Lexan suggested they all clean up after their journey. Only after they tried their best to settle in would he explain what he could over whatever dinner they could manage.
Reylor, however, said nothing, nor had anyone asked him to do anything.
Perhaps because they all knew better.
As Sarayna watched him, she could practically hear the thoughts processing behind those red eyes underneath furrowed brows. His face, unwashed, was as hers had been—dirty and speckled in blood from the cuts from shattered glass. Yet he refused to clean up, refused to move from the spot where he’d perched once he finished rummaging through Lexan’s kitchen cabinets, finding her brother’s liquor stash above the refrigerator, and claiming the bottle of whiskey for himself.
No one questioned that either.
There was still much they needed to discuss about their last few hours in the Borderlands. Particularly what she and Reylor had experienced when they confronted Razen and the one called Master, whoever that was, all while her father rushed toward the Empire, panicked about her mother’s well-being…not knowing that Alex had been in Master’s possession the entire time.
They never had the chance to tell him he was already too late.
And her mother…
As if he could read Sarayna’s thoughts, Reylor broke his focus, and his red eyes met her blue gaze. Rather than seeing the anger or fury she had grown so accustomed to, now she saw pain. Remorse.
Regret.
Only then did she understand that he too left behind those who were most important to him in the Empire. Even with Lexan here, even though she had Jared, there were too many they left behind, and even more who wished them harm now that they were gone.
There was nothing they could do about it. At least, not yet.
Sarayna continued to hold his gaze, but just as she was about to end the awkward silence, the sound of a bell rang throughout the apartment. She immediately jumped to her feet and pulled out her knife, gripping it tightly as she crouched into a defensive stance by the armchair, keeping watch on the apartment’s door.
“Will you relax?” Lexan drawled as he padded out from the bedroom. Drying his dark hair with a towel, now dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, he added, “I ordered pizza before I got in the shower.”
“You have a telephone?” she asked him incredulously, but her thoughts stuttered as she noticed the red coloring of his eyes, so similar to Reylor’s, flicker and disappear in an instant, only to be replaced by a startling blue gaze.
Her surprise must have been clear, for he smirked at her before opening the door to meet the delivery person. “I lived here for several months, Sarayna. Of course I have a phone.”
She glared at his back as he slipped out of the apartment before she could inquire further about how the hell he could do that with his eyes. Sighing, she returned her knife to her boot and slumped back into the chair.
“I didn’t know you still had that on you,” she heard Reylor mutter from his spot where he had a front-row seat of their exchange.
“Why would you think I wouldn’t?” she countered, her gaze still on the door. “And how the hell is he able to do that and you can’t?”
When he didn’t respond, she glanced over her shoulder to see the Lord Steward refilling his glass with whiskey and then proceeding to drink it instead of replying.
Fine. She didn’t really want to know the answer, anyway.
“I heard the doorbell. Is someone here?” Jared emerged from the bathroom, his brown hair dripping onto the neckline of his t-shirt. His gray eyes glistened, and it still startled her how he could now see perfectly without the help of glasses.
Sarayna was about to answer, but the sound of the apartment door reopening, revealing Lexan with his arms stacked with pizza boxes, distracted her and Jared seemed to have gotten his answer. Reylor, again, didn’t move from where he stood, instead opting to move the bottle of liquor aside to ensure it didn’t topple over as Lexan placed the boxes on the counter next to him.
“Dinner is served,” the prince announced, and all three of his guests looked at him with curious glances. Shrugging, he maneuvered around the kitchen, avoiding his father as he pulled down plates for serving.
“So this is really your apartment?” Jared asked as he lifted the cover off the top pizza box. Whoever Pizzeria Regina was, the food they made smelled amazing, and Sara found herself surprisingly famished.
“It is,” Lexan confirmed without looking back. “Courtesy of the Borderlands and its generous coffers.”
Reylor scoffed at that, and Lexan turn to face him with a stack of plates between his hands. “I’m not lying.”
“No, but you could act a little less like you weren’t more than eager to come here when the opportunity arose,” the Lord Steward murmured without looking to his son.
Lexan walked around his father to the other side of the kitchen island and placed the plates down harder than he should have. Sarayna startled at the sound, and even Jared took a protective step closer to her as they watched the tension unfold.
“Are you saying that because you regret not coming here when you had the chance?” Lexan countered, but she could see the muscles in his jaw twinge as if he was trying to control his temper.
“I’m saying that sending you here was one of the worst ideas I ever agreed to, and if I could take it back, I would.”
“Is that better or worse than the time you agreed with Razen to have me fuck my sister for the good of the Borderlands?”
Sarayna stilled and Jared growled a loud “What?” from where he stood next to her.
She’d never gotten around to telling him about that, either.
“Please,” she blurted, interrupting the current conversation as she began placing slices of pizza onto plates. She served the three men before taking her own. “You said you would tell us what the hell was going on once we bathed and ate. And now—” she motioned to the pizza in her hand. “Let’s talk.”
Lexan sighed, giving his father a final glance before he motioned to the sitting area around the fireplace. “Fine,” he conceded, taking his plate as he made his way over to the crescent of seating. “But you better make yourselves comfortable, because this may take a while.”
Chapter Two
Reylor opted to join them only after they had situated themselves in the small sitting area. Jared joined Sarayna on the couch, each balancing their plates in their laps, while Lexan stood near the fireplace, devouring his pizza quickly as though he wanted to ensure he had the chance to eat before he began to talk. Reylor silently took the armchair Sarayna had vacated earlier, leaving the food she served him in the kitchen. She bit her tongue instead of calling him out.
Regardless, whatever Lexan was about to tell them, it appeared the Lord Steward finally wanted to be a part of it. Only after he sat did Lexan clear his throat to speak.
“I’ve thought about what you told me when you returned to the cabin, before we left for the Otherrealm. And the only thing that makes sense is that this Master is trying to bring back the Queen Empress Brynaxia.”
“Who?” Sarayna inquired at mention of the unfamiliar name, looking around the room at the others. Jared merely shrugged, but Reylor watched his son intently.
“The story of Brynaxia and Leminol is sacred,” the Lord Steward insisted, “but it is simply a story nonetheless.”
“Whether or not it’s just a tale, there must be some truth in it,” Lexan countered.
“Why would Master want to involve himself in such a web?”
“Why would you?”
Reylor sat up straighter at the accusation, but Lexan c
ontinued. “Why did Razen? Hell, why did I?”
“As someone who has no idea what either of you are talking about, would one of you care to explain?” Jared asked, and Sarayna was grateful it was he who asked for clarification instead of herself. As a daughter of the Empire, she should know at least some of what they were discussing, but none of the names were familiar.
Lexan turned to the Emperor, but silently retreated to his bedroom instead of answering. The sounds of movement and rustling came from the room, and Sarayna craned her neck to see if she could get a glimpse of what her brother was doing. Moments later, he returned carrying an enormous book in his arms.
She remembered that book.
Lexan had it in his pack before they left the Empire. Even then, having only seen it once before, she felt there was something…off…about it. The feeling didn’t dissipate as he placed it on the table between them.
All eyes turned toward it. To Sarayna, its black leather-bound binding seemed to call out to her, begging her to open it. To read what it had to tell her.
“Where did you get that?” Reylor asked quietly, as if he, too, was afraid of waking whatever slept between those pages.
“It’s been buried in that cavern the Borderlands considers a library—I’m surprised you didn’t find it yourself.”
