Savage Reign

by Melody Locklear

  “Why do you need me to do this? If Grayson is free to come back with me he’s free to go see your Seer.”

  “Talvinder is not a Seer. He’s more of a…prophet. And I need you to do this because if you go missing while here Bastian will immediately blame me, whether he can prove it or not. I won’t be able to send Grayson to Vakrov. It is not unlike Bastian to go to war for one girl.” Her words make my stomach clench. If only Theron Novak were willing to go to war for one girl, I might not be here right now. I might be back with my brothers, my friends, Roman.

  “I’ll find him.” How I’ll escape the palace to run this errand I don’t know, but I suppose we can cross that bridge when we reach it.

  “Thank you, Amara. Your sacrifice will be rewarded, I promise you that.”

  “Let’s just hope I can do this all before Bastian marries me off to his cousin.”

  Sleep does not come easily tonight. I toss and turn for most of it, going over and over in my head everything that’s ahead, as well as everything that’s behind me.

  I can’t refuse this crown anymore. It hovers above me, weighing me down all the while promising a better life for all of us. I don’t know if Kat is right, if I’ll make a decent queen or not. But what I do know is if I don’t at least try neither of us will get it. Not Aaric, not me, certainly not Aaren. And we can’t leave my people in the hands of Theon Beleros. If nothing else, I know that.

  I wake in the middle of the night with a searing pain I can’t identify. A scream rips from my throat. I try to stand, but the pain cripples me and I collapse on the floor.

  Kade, my guard, comes rushing into the room. “Your Highness, what’s wrong?”

  “I—I don’t know.” I spit, clutching my stomach. It’s where the source of the pain is coming from, but I lift my nightgown to see there is nothing there. No wound, no blood. Just mind-numbing pain. That’s when I realize what it is.

  It’s Kara.

  I’m jolted into her mind then. It takes me a minute to gauge where she is. The infirmary of the palace, my palace. Above us I can see Kol and Theon arguing. “Heal her.” Theon growls.

  Kol looks ragged. Kara’s blood is splattered all over him. His shirt, his hands, there are even a few drops on his face. His blue eyes are dark, darker than usual. He looks inclined to vomit.

  “I can’t.” I can see just in his expression that it kills him to refuse to take Kara’s pain away, but he does nothing. He stands by, hands shaking, looking helpless.

  I can’t move. I can’t even think with all this pain. My eyes fall shut and I feel unconsciousness taking over. Before it can claim me though I feel a pair of hands gripping me from behind. They move me into a sitting position, my back pressed against the base of my bed.

  “Amara, talk to me. What’s wrong?” I hear Keenan’s voice in my ear. It shakes with fear, fear for me. I don’t have the presence of mind to analyze that though. Not right now.

  When I open my eyes I’m back in Kara’s head. She’s dosing in and out as the doctors work on her and the boys argue nearby, pushed out of the way by the doctors no doubt.

  “Heal her, Kol. She could die.” I hear Theon shouting, but they’re out of my line of sight.

  “She begged me not to.”

  “Amara, look at me.” I hear Keenan shout.

  “I can’t.” I cry. If I could rip myself out of Kara’s head on my own I would have by now. “Kara, she’s in so much pain, Keenan. I can’t, I can’t.”

  “Shit.” he hisses.

  Suddenly Keenan’s hands are gone and I’m left alone again, drowning in Kara’s pain. Kara is unconscious, so why am I not just seeing blackness like she must be? With everything we do know about this Echo, there are still many things we don’t know.

  And then there are hands again, but I know just from their firm grip that they aren’t Keenan’s. “Amara,” Bastian says softly, gripping my shoulders tightly. “Remember what I told you the last time this happened. Focus on my voice. You have to focus on something here so you can pull yourself out of there. So listen to my voice. Latch onto it, ground yourself to me.”

  “I can’t. Kara’s hurt. I can’t leave her.”

  “The pain isn’t going to stop until you do.”

  “I—I have to know she’s okay.”

  “You’ll know.”

  “How?”

  “Sweetheart, do you know what happens when someone with a Psychic Echo dies? Their death reverberates through the person they share the Echo with. You will be overwhelmed with the sinking feeling of death, a pain worse than the actual act of dying. If your friend dies believe me Amara, you’ll know it.”

  There’s a part of me that wants to stay, to be with her, to see Kol again, even though I should hate him. But the pain is too overwhelming so when Bastian’s voice coaxes me back I let it.

  I open my eyes to see Kade, Keenan, and Bastian all staring down at me, waiting for me to recover. The pain subsides and I’m alone in my own head again.

  “Better?” Bastian asks.

  I nod, swallowing around the lump in my throat. “Thank you.”

  Bastian’s hand moves from my shoulder to my cheek in such an affectionate way Keenan can’t miss it. “You’re welcome.” He stands and cuts Keenan a look. “If you expect to spend the rest of your life with her you might learn how to do that for yourself.” It’s a jab if ever there was one. Keenan pales, swallowing his own lump while Bastian brushes past him, leaving us alone.

  “Your Highness,” Kade holds his hand out to me. I take it and let him pull me to my feet.

  “Thank you, Kade, I’m fine now.” I tug the strap of my nightgown back up onto my shoulder, suddenly remembering I’m standing in front of Keenan wearing nothing more than a slinky silk napkin on my body.

  “Your Highness,” This time he’s speaking to Keenan. Keenan ignores him.

  “I’d like to speak to the prince for a moment if that’s alright.”

  Kade appears hesitant, like he hates the idea of leaving me alone with Keenan, but he obliges anyway, shutting the door behind him.

  “Are you alright?” Keenan asks while I slip into a long, thin white bathrobe.

  “No, I am not alright.” I fold my arms over my chest, shivering, but it’s not from being cold. “Kara was in the infirmary, suffering from a stab wound.” I’m more than surprised when I see a muscle twitch in his cheek, like he’s fighting a look of worry, for his baby sister.

  “Inflicted by whom?”

  “I’m not sure, but Theon and Kol were there. They were arguing. Theon was demanding Kol heal her, which I’m not sure I understand given his element is water, not ether. But what I really don’t understand is his response. He said…she begged me not to. Why would she do that, Keenan? Why would Kara not want him to heal her?” Keenan opens his mouth to speak, but thinks better of it. His blue eyes are full of answers I want. “What are you not telling me, Keenan?”

  “She must know.” he mutters to himself.

  “Know what, Keenan?” I demand.

  That’s when Keenan starts to tell me all about the prophecy Kat just told me about, only he has one more piece of the puzzle that she doesn’t have.

  “You’re telling me that Kara’s baby, one of them, is going to go dark?”

  “Why do you think I did what I did, Amara? Do you really think I’m so heartless I’d hurt my sister if I didn’t have to?” The look of hurt he gives me next nearly cripples me, but the one I saw on my best friend’s face after it happened hurt me far more and I can’t muster any sympathy for him.

  “Yes, actually.” His hurtful look deepens.

  “Well I wouldn’t.” he grits out.

  “Kol wouldn’t do it.” I say. “He wouldn’t heal her because she asked him not to.” Why would he do that? He’s Theon’s lapdog. He betrayed us, for Theon. So why would he go against him now? I look up and I must have some kind of stupid, hopeful look on my face because Keenan looks on with envy. I drop my eyes shamefully. “Kara must know about the proph
ecy.”

  “Don’t the two of you share each other’s thoughts? Why hasn’t she told you any of this?”

  I meet his eyes with an icy glare. “We all have our secrets Keenan.” A strange silence falls between us and his eyes find mine, locking me in, in every way. And suddenly I’m a kid in church. Anxious to get out. “Besides, it doesn’t work like that. We don’t share thoughts really. It’s more of a…line of communication. We get sucked into each other’s minds and we can see what the other is seeing and we can talk, sort of, but I don’t see her thoughts. Not really. I don’t automatically know what she knows just because our minds are linked. She’s protected me from knowing this the same way I’ve protected her from knowing the truth about you.”

  This time Keenan looks everywhere, but my eyes. It’s good to know he does have some shame. “Well now you know the truth. When Bastian found out about the prophecy he ordered me to…take care of the problem.”

  “Ordered you?” I shake my head, tasting some of his own shame. “If he could see you now.”

  “Who?” He looks up at me so innocently a person could forget the monster underneath.

  “The boy before that party. He didn’t join the King’s Guard to become just another lacky for the king to order around. He wanted to change things, make things better. If he could see you now he’d hate you, hate what you’ve become. Just another soldier blindly following a false king. Most of all he wouldn’t want you anywhere near me. He always chose me over everything else.”

  “And maybe that’s the problem!” he shouts, shocking me into silence. “Maybe I spent so much time obsessing over if I’d ever get you that I lost sight of who I was without you.” His breath hitches and suddenly he looks ten years older, like he’s been sitting on this for longer than he could take.

  It’s a sad reality. He spent years pining for me while I pined for him, neither of us brave enough to say anything. Neither of us wanting to risk the friendship we had. If we’d only found the courage we needed, things might have turned out very different.

  “You don’t have to obsess anymore, Keenan.” I say into the thick, painful silence. “You’ve got me now.” It’s a jab, though not even I have the energy to push all my resentment into it. Tonight’s conversation has aged us both.

  Keenan shakes his head, defeated. He hasn’t the energy to trade any more daggered jibes either. “It’s not how I wanted you. I think you know that, Amara.”

  I know. I know all too well, but none of that matters anymore. I won’t marry him. I’ve struck a bargain with the earth queen. We’ll never see our wedding day. I’ll be long gone before that happens. To Llìria, to reclaim my home. What will happen to Keenan Volterra when I’m gone, I don’t know. Amara the village girl can wonder. Amara the Serpent Queen cannot.

  —CHAPTER TWENTY THREE—

  AARIC

  REVELATION

  If not for the transit we stole from the palace, we’d be making our way to Ironport on foot.

  We spent much more time than we were supposed to at the Serpentarian camp so it feels good to be back on the road. We won’t be for long though. By tomorrow night we’ll be on a ship set for Llìria. Malia has managed to get us all tickets aboard the ship. She racks up a lot of favors smuggling Serpentarians to and fro, and one of the ship’s crew members owed her a favor. All we have to do is get to Ironport without incident.

  We stick to traveling during the day. Though the Hunters don’t solely attack at night it’s easier to avoid them on the main road in broad daylight. The only part of the journey that’s going to be difficult is the trek from Ravendale to Ironport. We’re taking a train and we’ll travel all night. We’re supposed to get to Ironport tomorrow at noon, which will give us one hour to get from the train station to the port. For the first time since leaving the palace we have a clear plan and while I don’t normally enjoy schedules I’m happy about this one.

  Even though it’s already noon most of everyone is still asleep. We’ve been driving for days. Traveling during the day and parking at night to avoid any more Hunter attacks so most of everyone is exhausted. Malia’s driving. Somehow I doubt she’s licensed to do that, but I’m not sure Roman is either so I don’t question it.

  I rise from where I’d been trying to sleep and go sit in the seat right behind the driver. The girl’s presence soothes me in a way I can’t quite describe. Maybe because, in some ways, she reminds me of Haven. Strong, confident, intelligent. She knows what she wants and she doesn’t let anyone tell her she can’t have it.

  “You’re supposed to be sleeping.” Malia says by way of greeting.

  “Sleep? I don’t know this word.” I tease. In the rear view mirror I see her smirk. “How much longer until we get to Ravendale do you think?”

  “Six hours maybe.”

  I glance behind me. Like all the others, Roman sleeps soundly across a row of seats, clutching something in his hand. It takes me a minute to realize what it is. A necklace. It’s Amara’s. The silver chain dangles from his hand, hovering above the floor of the transit. The torch he carries for my sister burns even brighter now that he knows she may be married to my best friend before we can rescue her. It’s a thought I had always welcomed. If my sister had to end up with anyone Keenan is who I would have chosen, but his betrayal has changed my mind.

  “He loves her.” Malia says, pulling the thoughts from my mind.

  “He does.”

  “If he’s any friend of yours you’ll stomp out those feelings of his while you still can.” I meet her eyes in the mirror. She must see the question in my mind because she elaborates. “His father may not hunt us down like the Hunters, but he has sentenced a fare share of our kind to death just for stepping out of line, for worthless crimes. There’s a reason you thought our people extinct. A Serpentarian princess doesn’t marry a Novak, Aaric. Whatever he hopes to happen between the two of them, it’s fantasy.”

  Her words ring true. Theron may be our friend now, but he won’t stand for what we hope to achieve next. Resurrecting our fallen country, making our people whole again. And Roman will never betray his father. Leaving to help find Amara is one thing, but he will not support her cause in opposition of his father just for his heart’s desire.

  “I’ll talk to him.” My eyes fall back on Roman. I hadn’t considered the prince my friend, but I guess in some ways he is. And if his heart is already breaking, I might as well get all the rebreaking over with now.

  “You might wanna take the advice for yourself as well.” she adds.

  There is no future for Haven and me. Her meaning is clear. The part that truly hurts is she’s right. If Roman and Amara have no future the same has to be true for his sister and me. The truth hurts all the same. But I’ll recover. I’m used to being denied the things that I want. Roman is not.

  “Noted.”

  I try for sleep again and this time I manage to dose off. I dream of Haven. Her beautiful golden brown waves, the gold flecks in her eyes, her contagious smile. Naturally I want to kill the man who wakes me, but think better of it when I wake to a very different set of brown eyes.

  “We’re here.” Felix says, looking marginally less irritable about my presence than usual. I can’t deny I miss my friend. Felix has always been our goofy light in the darkness, always ready with a joke to lighten the mood, but these days he is the darkness. I’m not sure he’ll ever stop blaming me for Tristan’s death. Maybe he shouldn’t.

  Here is the middle of nowhere. Tucked between a forest of trees is a dirt path. The transit is parked off the path, hidden in shrubbery. It’s then that I realize this is where we bid the transit goodbye. Everything we do now will be on foot. The walk to the train station and the walk from the station to the port. From the port, I honestly don’t know.

  “From here we walk.” My brother says, not bothering to wait for me to follow. He stalks off down the dirt path leading into Ravendale, a commuter town.

  Commuter towns generally don’t have much in way of commercial or indu
strial activity, but possess locally owned retail businesses. Butcher shops, bakeries, a blacksmith, the basics.

  Because it’s the late afternoon most of the little shops and marketplace have long since closed for the night, but a passing gentleman points us in the direction of the train station. He doesn’t spare us a second look, which isn’t surprising. Most of the country has no idea what their prince actually looks like. It’s why we’ve gotten so far without being dragged back to the palace by our ears for attempting a poorly thought out plan like ours.

  The train station is the busiest part of town, more trains coming than going, returning overworked husbands to their families. Because of that it’s not hard to find our way to our train once Roman buys the tickets. We may not have the transit with a whole arsenal of weapons anymore, but he brought more than enough money for us to survive off of for months, if not years.

  It’s an overnight train ride so there are bunks we’re given upon arrival. Each bunk houses up to four people. There are six of us so Bay and Felix are forced to room with two strangers, but they make no complaints. Our trust issues go far and wide, but we managed to collect a good amount of the smaller weapons to hide on our bodies and in our travel bags.

  “Top or bottom?” Niykee asks, holding one of her smaller bags in her hand, waiting for me to make a decision.

  “Doesn’t matter.” She barely waits for me to finish before she throws her bag up top and jumps up, spreading out on the neatly made bed. Across from us Malia settles onto the top bunk as well, leaving Roman on the bottom.

  I peer down at Roman’s neck to see that necklace of Amara’s swaying back and forth. “Oh just do it already.” I hear Amara’s voice suddenly in my ear.

  I roll my eyes, cursing whatever part of my subconscious that has conjured Phantom Amara.

  “Break the boy’s heart. I mean, I can’t imagine it’ll be easy, getting over someone like me, but not impossible. Just rip off the band-aid.”