Savage Reign

by Melody Locklear

  The question seems to cause Theon a certifiable amount of stress. “I honestly don’t know.” He shakes his head as if trying to shake off something, a weakness he now has. He does not like not knowing something. “Clea informed me after we invaded Limacore that Amara was taken by someone, but she doesn’t know who. That’s why it is imperative that we find her. We do not know who this new enemy is and if they will harm her. For all we know, it was Hunters taking advantage of Limacore’s weakened state. If that’s the case,” he says gravely. “She may already be dead.”

  The very thought makes me so sick to my stomach that I have to stop. I grab onto the railing of a nearby bench and ease myself down to it. I don’t know if it’s the sudden movement or if I am in physical pain due to the thought of losing my best friend, but I feel a searing pain in my stomach.

  “Kara,” Theon asks nervously, coming to sit by me. “Are you alright?”

  “I—I don’t know.” I shake my head. And then I feel it. A pain similar to one I felt during the night last night. I’d chalked it up to a night cramp, but the pain now is much more intense.

  “Kara,” Theon says evenly. “Are you hurt?”

  I peer up at Theon while still clutching my stomach and roll my eyes. I know the type of cramping I’m feeling is common, even if it does feel like it’s going to kill me. That’s just what being a girl is. But he doesn’t understand, because while he may be a monster, he’s still a man. If this is the kind of idiocy I am going to have to deal with for the next seven months of this pregnancy, I am screwed. And so I ask for the one person who might have an inkling to what I’m dealing with, even if I hate her. “Clea.” I sneer. “Get me Clea.”

  —CHAPTER FOUR—

  AMARA

  DESCENDANT

  I’m surprised when the king has Keenan escort not just me, but Missy and Finn all into what I assume to be the war room.

  It looks a lot like the one back in Limacore, but it’s bigger and the colors are not a deep red, but a royal blue.

  I expect to be met by another flock of guards, but it is only the four of us in this room as we wait to be joined by the king. That is until I look up and see Haven Novak standing by the window.

  “Haven,” I cry out her name. She cries mine back and at once we throw ourselves into each other’s arms. Haven squeezes me tight as if she is terrified I am going to blink out of existence if she releases me. I break our embrace first, but only so that I can examine her. I check her arms, her neck, her face. Any exposed skin I can see to make sure there is not a scratch on her. To my great relief there’s not. Still, I place my hand on her cheek and ask anyway. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

  “No, no, he hasn’t hurt me.” She shakes her head. I search her eyes for a lie, but I don’t find one. “What about you?” She examines me the same way I had her, but unlike me, she does find bruises on my arms. “You’re hurt.” Angry amber eyes fly to Keenan standing a few feet away from us, but unfortunately the bruises I have cannot be blamed on him. No physical ones.

  “Don’t worry. Keenan’s never touched me.” I slide him an angry look of my own, but I know well enough not to linger long. “No, this is from these two knocking me around.” I nod in Finn and Missy’s direction.

  “There’s not much else to do in a cell, but strengthen what power we do have.” Missy speaks up, offering Haven her hand. “Hi, I’m Missy. You must be Haven. Amara has told me all about you.”

  It occurs to me that one of the reasons I adore Missy so much is that she reminds me of Haven. Sweet, kind, gentle, but deadly fierce when it comes to the people she cares about.

  “It’s nice to meet you.” Haven says softly, cautiously.

  She is wary of the girl turned prisoner, like me. Haven may be a captive herself, but she still thinks like a royal and so she believes Missy must have been locked away for a reason. I decide the truth to why my friends have been locked away, hidden from the world, is something we can discuss at a later date.

  “Amara, I—” Haven’s words fall away when she hears a gasp escape my lips.

  I stumble back suddenly, feeling a jolt of something that feels like pain or nausea or both. Kara’s face flashes before my eyes. She’s panicked and crying. Finn is beside me in seconds, grabbing onto me.

  “Amara, what’s happening?” I can hear Haven’s voice in front of me, but I can’t see her. All I can see is Kara, in a hospital bed, like I’m hovering over her, watching some terrible scene I shouldn’t be present for.

  “Kara,” Her name rips from me. My voice quivers with fear. I grab onto Finn’s hand with one, Missy’s shoulder with the other. That’s when I realize that I can’t see what’s in front or behind me.

  “Kara?” Haven says, confused. “What about her, Mar?”

  “I—I can see her. It’s all I can see. I…ah, she’s in pain.” I shudder at the sudden jolt of pain that I feel. It reminds me of my Intention Perception power. It allows me to deduce the intentions of others, but it almost works as an ability to feel other people’s emotions and I can feel Kara’s pain, her fear like a third limb. “Kara?”

  The image before me is the same and so I take in what I can see. She’s in an infirmary. That much I know by her surroundings and she is clutching her stomach, as if she’s having some kind of unbearable cramps.

  “Shit. She’s in pain.” I stammer out, gripping Finn’s hand tight. “What is happening?”

  “It’s your Psychic Echo.” Keenan says. He’s close and despite my current predicament I feel the need to wrench back, out of his reach, but I don’t. I stay still.

  “What about it?” Haven asks urgently.

  “An Echo gives you more than just the ability to wield each other’s power and sense when the other is in danger. It allows you to communicate over long distances as well, see each other. Right now Amara is seeing Kara through their Echo.”

  “Get me out!” I scream as the pain threatens to overwhelm me. “She’s having some kind of episode because of the baby, and it hurts!”

  “Step back.” Suddenly I hear Bastian’s voice. Finn and Missy both step back, out of my reach and I grasp for hands that are no longer there. Instead I feel a set of cool ones take hold of mine. Bastian’s. “Close your eyes, Amara.”

  I do, but the images don’t fade. I still see Kara, straining, fighting sobs of agony. I shake my head profusely. “It’s not helping.”

  “Amara, listen to my voice.” Bastian says calmly.

  I try, but I still feel the terrible strain in my abdomen, the same pain Kara seems to be experiencing. I know it has something to do with her pregnancy, though she is not far along so I’m unsure what this could be.

  “I want you to focus very hard on the sound of my voice. Nothing else. Only me. After a moment or two you should feel some of that pain you’re feeling subside.”

  As he speaks to me softly I do as he tells me and focus on only his voice and find that he’s right. Slowly, very slowly the pain starts to subside. Following that Kara’s image fades from my eyes and when I open them again I am back in the war room, looking up into the eyes of the king.

  “Better?” he asks. All I can manage is a nod. We both look down at my hands tucked into his and I pull them back automatically.

  Missy and Haven both fuss over me, grabbing onto my shaking hands. “What the hell?” I say, sounding exactly the teenager that I am.

  “Has that happened before, Amara?” Haven asks me.

  “No, never. Why did that happen?”

  “You and Kara Volterra share a Psychic Echo.” Bastian begins to explain. “Which means the two of you are connected in ways no one else is. You share emotions, thoughts, sense each other’s fears, distress. What happened tonight is Kara was in a terrible amount of pain and in her moment of terror she thought of you, which dragged you into the very heart of your Echo.”

  “Well thank you, Kara for making the decision for me. I am never having kids.” I say and my friends laugh.

  “So she can laugh.
” Bastian says, peering down at Haven. Her smile fades as she looks up at him self-consciously. To my surprise she recovers quickly.

  “Leave it to Amara Boudelaire to make a joke of the worst experience of her life.” Haven says, prompting Finn and Missy to laugh again.

  “There are worse things than physical pain.” I say, sliding my eyes to Keenan who looks away. Good. At least I know he has some shame in all he’s done. If he didn’t he’d meet my eyes without flinching.

  Game, set, match, Keenan Volterra.

  “Speaking of, what are we all doing here?” I ask the hard question. “I know you have no intention of freeing three of your prisoners so why are we here?”

  “Actually that’s exactly what I intend to do.” Bastian says matter-of-factly.

  “What? Why?” I ask inquisitively.

  Bastian chuckles, glancing at Keenan. “I like her. You did not mention that she was so tenacious.” Bastian’s blue eyes fall back on me. “I like tenacious. It means you’re a survivor and survivors are exactly what I need right now. See, we are living in a world on the razor’s edge, Miss Boudelaire and the only question is…do you want to be on the winning side? There are other countries who think the same way we do, who long for the old ways again, to unite the Houses with their rightful home and you can be a part of that Amara. You can be a part of a revolution.”

  Bastian Beaugrand is an incredible speaker. I’ll give him that. He is handsome and he is charming. I have no doubt that every single one of his subjects could find out that he killed his father and he would somehow charm his way out of an execution and back onto the throne. Unfortunately I have never been what you might call an impressionable girl and I am not fooled.

  “I’m seventeen years old, Your Majesty.” I add sarcastically. “A seventeen year old, I might add, who’s been in your world less than six months. I have no interest in being part of your revolution.”

  I watch the anger flicker in his eyes, but he is not a raging teenager like the rest of us, like his un-tempered sidekick. For everyone there is a face you show to the world and then there is the face you let slip around the people you trust. The resolve the king holds onto here is one of practiced patience. Theron was like that, but I know it will not end the same with this king. In the end I found out that Theron was a good man, trying to protect the children of his best friends. Bastian is not Theron. I must remind myself of that.

  Bastian takes measured steps toward me and my friends crowd around me, grabbing onto my arms protectively the closer the king gets. “Well you are a part of it, Miss Boudelaire, whether you want to be or not. Now you have two options here. Play your part well and you never have to see the inside of a cell again. Or you can throw your temper tantrums, but you’ll spend the rest of your days inside that cell, alone, as nothing more than a blood bank for my revolution. The choice is yours.”

  He thinks the choice is obvious, but it isn’t to me. There is a very rebellious part of me that would rather rot in his cell, letting him leech away the blood he will be taking no matter which road I choose than to stand with his people, with Keenan, and pretend to be a good little soldier for him.

  But then Haven’s hands both curl around one of mine. The gesture makes me look up at her and her pleading amber eyes convey a message that is crystal clear. Please, Amara. I need you.

  I heave a defeated sigh and squeeze her hand back. I press my free one to her shoulder to assure her that I won’t abandon her. “Alright, alright.” I say solemnly. I turn my gaze back on Bastian. “I’m doing this for her, not myself. You’d be amazed at just how resilient I am.” It’s a subtle threat, but one nonetheless. “What about Missy and Finn?”

  “Call it a trial run to see if a person with their…unique abilities can function as good, law-abiding citizens.” Bastian smirks.

  I peer back at him inquisitively, my mind, always running, always curious, always searching for alternate meaning behind every word spoken to me. “What does that mean?” I ask leadingly.

  Bastian’s smile widens. “Keenan, find someone to show our new friends to their sleeping quarters. I’m very sure they are exhausted from the day’s events. I know I am.”

  “I’d be happy to do it myself, Your Majesty.”

  Bastian shakes his head. “Not your job. However I trust you to vet whatever guard is assigned to Miss Boudelaire. Precious cargo and all.”

  “I’ll take care of it.” Keenan assures his king. I roll my eyes, an act Keenan does not miss or enjoy.

  Before we know it there are guards sweeping us from the room. Haven reaches out for my hand as it slips through hers, terrified. “Hey,” I say to her gently, trying to calm the stormy terror in her eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Haven nods shakily. She does not care that Bastian sees her so scared and I think he must have done something terrible to her to let her drop the confident princess act and let her true fear show. Questions for later, I tell myself. Once I have successfully calmed some of her fears I let the guards take me, Missy, and Finn away, right past Keenan who doesn’t spare me a second glance. There is not a glimmer of worry in his eyes over what might happen to me next. He does not care.

  Even if he were worried about me, he has no reason to be. The guards simply bring us through the palace to rooms similar to mine back in Limacore, side by side. The three of us step into the first room, overly excited to sleep in a warm bed not permanently indented by bodies much bigger than our own.

  “Not here, Lady Amara.” One of the guards says to me.

  I share one last look with my friends before I am swept out of that room and down many different corridors until we reach an entirely different wing of the palace. I peer up to see Keenan just at the end of the hall, but our eyes can’t linger on each other for long as the only two guards left behind lead me into another room entirely.

  I’d only ever gotten a quick glance at Prince Roman’s room back in Limacore, but the room I stand in now is similar. It has more than a bed, some dressers, and a shelf full of books. It also has a fireplace with a seating area, a rather large window bench, a divan against the back wall. There’s even a table complete with writing utensils and candles. I have no doubt these are royal chambers and it has me more confused than anything else. But as the king said, I am exhausted and so I turn my brain off for the night to get some much needed sleep.

  I wake with renewed determination.

  After I have a shower and revel in the impossible selection of dresses in the walk-in closet I choose a simple pale blue one and then immerge from my room with the intention of finding Haven. I want to find Missy and Finn too, but Haven is my priority at the moment. I have so many questions that are burning for answers, answers I think she may have.

  “Good morning, Lady Amara.”

  The guard that waits for me just outside my door is a picture of tall, dark, and handsome. Dark hair that hangs down in his eyes, equally dark eyes that glisten amber in the sunlight filtering into the hallway from the window at the end of the hall. He has very minimal facial hair to give him just the right amount of ruggedly handsome. But that deep, husky voice completes him.

  “My name is Daxon.” he explains to me. “I am here to assist you in getting around the palace, making sure you are prompt, but most importantly I am here to protect you.”

  “Please call me Amara.” I beg him and frown at the distant memory of begging my guard Drago from Limacore to do the exact same thing.

  I feel something in the palm of Daxon’s hand and when I pull mine back I find he’s tucked a folded up piece of paper in my hand. I meet those stunning brown eyes and he gives me a knowing smile. I tuck the little note into the chest area of my dress after my eyes sweep the hall to make sure we are entirely alone. The other rooms throughout the hall are void of guards, which probably means everyone else is already out and about, including Keenan.

  Unlike Drago though, Daxon does not fight me on the name. “Amare then. Usually I would escort you down to breakfast, but unfortunately that
will have to wait until after the king addresses the people.”

  “I’m sorry?” I question him, confused.

  “Amara?” I whirl at the sound of Haven’s voice. She’s dressed in a similar gown to my own, but hers is a jade green that pools at her feet on the floor. “Come with me. I’ll explain what I can on the way.” Haven takes hold of my hand, grasping at her lengthy gown with the other, and she rushes us out of the royal bedchambers, through the daunting Vakrovian palace.

  “Haven, what’s going on?”

  “How much do you know about the Volterra family?” she asks me as she hurries me through corridor after corridor.

  “How much do I know? Everything. Kara Volterra is my best friend. Our parents grew up together. We’ve known each other since birth.” Which is why Keenan’s betrayal cuts so deep. He’d held me in his arms on the day of my birth before his own parents had the chance.

  “Did you know that Lucia Volterra was originally from Vakrov?”

  “No,” I say evenly. “I didn’t.”

  “It’s no coincidence that Bastian sought Keenan out, Amara. The Volterra’s here in Vakrov are related to the king.”

  “Related?” I gasp out.

  “Keenan shares blood with Bastian Beaugrand.”

  This is all new information, information I never could have imagined, but I fail to see how any of this has to do with where we’re rushing off to in such a hurry. “Haven, what is your point?” I demand, just as we approach what appears to be a large, open lobby. Up ahead Bastian and Keenan stand at two double doors, flocked by guards.

  “Do you remember when Aaric told you that Theon intended for you to be the new heir to House Serpentarius?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, it wasn’t just a choice. You are the true heir to House Serpentarius. Well, you, Aaric, and Aaren, since you’re technically considered triplets.”

  “How is that possible?”