Savage Reign

by Melody Locklear

  He laughs offhandedly, realizing quickly that that was the wrong response to have. “Kara, I am sorry if you felt neglected, but I had to make sure she wasn’t going to run off and abandon a revolution long in the making, love. And I think you know that.”

  “No. You know what I know? I know that I’m sick of being kept out of the loop just because I’m pregnant. I know that you all knew about Haydan and Keenan and everything else and didn’t tell me. I know that the moment Amara decided to make you her—her champion that you’ve barely even looked in my direction.”

  “Oh love, your jealousy of Amara has got your head so clouded you can’t see this for what it is.”

  “And what is it?”

  He marches up to me and grabs the back of my head in a death grip, pressing his lips to mine, hard. The feel of his lips on mine for the first time since, well, the last time confuses every bone in my body. So much to the point that I kiss him back. I don’t remember what it felt like to kiss him back in Limacore. Not really, but I know what it does to me now. It sets my teeth on edge. It makes every hair on my neck rise to meet him.

  When he reluctantly breaks the kiss he takes my face into his hands roughly. “Don’t you get it you silly, silly girl? I do not want to fall in love with you. I already am in love with you. I might have been by the end of that first night we spent together. I have pushed you out of everything that we’re doing because I never want any of this war to touch you. Not one hair on this beautiful little head.”

  My heart damn near closes in on itself at his words. I do know that I can’t even consider Theon Beleros a viable option until these babies are out, my hormones are back to normal, and I know my feelings are actually my feelings and not a biproduct of me carrying this baby. But I know my heart races at the prospect.

  “Well, you could have just said that.”

  Theon laughs, pressing his forehead to mine roughly. “You are maddening, Kara Volterra.”

  I laugh with him. “I know.”

  He tilts his head up just enough to press another mouth-watering kiss to my lips. “I know that you need more time and that’s alright. As luck might have it I have all the time in the world. But I needed you to know how I felt.”

  “Let’s see if you still feel the same after these Serpentarian terrorists bust their way out of my body.”

  “That’s what ether healing is for.”

  “Shit, you’re right.” I say and we laugh together. I tug back, taking his hands into mine. “But you’re right. I do need some time, to have my body to myself again, when I know my feelings are my own.”

  “I understand. And I promise that once you do have those babies Amara and I will keep you in the loop. We just don’t want anything to go wrong during the delivery due to stress from all the million things going on right now.” He smiles, throwing my own words back to me.

  I laugh softly, but now that this is settled with us, I know I have a bigger problem to settle. “What do I do about my brother, Theon?”

  “As a man who’s sibling has let him down more times than he can count, I’d say that you have to decide whether you’re willing to forgive him or not and then you go from there, love.”

  “What if I don’t know?”

  “Then you do what little sisters do best and let him stew.”

  I smile. “Solid advice. Almost as good as any Amara could have given me.”

  “I consider that a compliment.”

  “It is, of the highest order.” I say playfully. “Did you see what I did?” I ask, guiding him toward the section of the room I made into the nursery.

  “You did a lovely job, my dear. It looks beautiful.” He wraps an arm around my waist, tugging me to his side. “Have you thought of any names you like?”

  “I think I wanna meet them first, see what I think then.”

  “I think that’s a terrific idea.”

  “Can we just stand here for a minute?” I ask him. “Take it all in?”

  “For as long as you’d like, my love.”

  —CHAPTER FORTY ONE—

  AARIC

  WELL

  Damn Dariella Aguillon, for hiding the Nexus in a city half way across the damn country.

  At least it feels like that. We’ve been driving in this transit for what feels like days when in reality it’s only been about six hours. We left early this morning, ready to find the large estate in the large city we know nothing about. Luckily Malia does.

  Theon sent about a dozen or so guards with us for protection, protecting his precious cargo. I.e. my sister. She sits beside me, calm and quiet. She’s exhausted I think. She’s spent many nights up late with Haven, comforting her as she cries herself to sleep.

  I’m glad Bastian Beaugrand is dead, but there’s a part of me that wishes he wasn’t so I could hunt him down and kill him myself. Just something else Keenan Volterra stole from my family. The satisfaction of putting Haven and Amara’s monster six feet under.

  Amara’s blue eyes flick to me as if she senses the way I tense, the way my mind spins out over the girl I love. She reaches for my hand, tugging it into hers. “She’s gonna be okay ya know.” she tells me. It’s uncanny how she always knows what I’m thinking. She knows the way I spiral.

  “You can’t know that, Amara.”

  “I know she’s strong. She’s gonna make it through this. You just have to be patient with her, Aaric. Just be patient.”

  “For her? I can be.” I eye her, trying to get a sense of where her head is at before I bring up another subject we have yet to discuss. She’s quiet, resolved. She might not bite my head off if I bring it up. “So maybe we should talk about the elephant we’ve been avoiding for weeks now.”

  “There’s no elephant.” she snaps back. Okay. Maybe not as resolved as I first thought. But there’s no doubt she can read me as well as I read her.

  “Amara,” I say calmly. “We’re expected to compete in these Monarch Trials and soon, I’m guessing, given we can’t really proceed until we know which one of us is going to rule.”

  “I don’t wanna talk about it, Aaric, because the thought of competing against you makes me sick.”

  I squeeze her hand still tucked away in mine. “I know. Aaren and I can abdicate, can’t we? Then there will be no trials, no competition.” Or she can, but I don’t say that because I don’t know what she really wants. This crown on my head or hers.

  “Yeah, I don’t think that’s how it works. If it did Theon would have thought of it by now.” she tells me. “It’s tradition. If we don’t stick to tradition, if we come in with our new way of doing things, forsaking their laws and customs, they won’t follow us, Aar.”

  She already sounds like a queen. This road we’ve walked the past couple months has always pointed to one path. That’s Amara being queen. Theon wants it, the queen of Zakaria wants it, even Malia truly believes it is Amara who will save our people. So I never even considered what might happen if I were to beat her. I want this for her, if this is what she wants, but I won’t be disappointed if I win, because that means she can live her life, be a seventeen year old girl, marry the prince if she’d like. Be as normal as people like us can hope for.

  “Then we’ll do it. It isn’t a fight to the death, Amara. It’s just a few trials to prove who is best for the job. We’ll compete and then it’ll be over. Regardless of who wins we stay together, okay? There’s no more going it alone.”

  This brings a quiet smile to her face. “Okay. Deal.”

  “We’re here.” Malia’s voice rings out from the front of the transit.

  “Quador.” I mutter, standing to take a look at Dariella’s home.

  It’s a pretty city, on the ritzier side of Llìria. It’s a busy one. They barely stop to get a look at the royal transit passing them. They go about their day, ignoring us completely. Either they just don’t care or they’ve seen enough royal transits to not be phased anymore.

  “We found the city. How are we going to find the house?” I ask.

&nbs
p; Malia claps a hand down on my shoulder. “We ask for directions silly.”

  Amara looks at me and laughs, following the prince and the others out of the transit.

  Here we go.

  I’ve been in and out of a lot of different cities and villages over the past few months that most of what we’ve seen has lost its charm, but not for Amara. Her eyes are everywhere, taking in the sights of the country she should have been born into. It’s different with Limacore. We were born there, but it’s Llìrian blood running through our veins. Blood of royalty.

  Malia waltzes over to the first vendor she sees inside the city market. The guards remain clustered around me and Amara protectively. Daxon is here with us, Amara’s guard from Vakrov who was coincidentally Theon’s spy sent to Vakrov with Amara when she was taken. He dotes on her like a mother with her babe. He cares for her and so he protects her fiercely. Despite his lie, she trusts him.

  “Waiting for the other shoe to drop?” Felix asks, falling in step with me.

  “Pretty much, yes. Theon assures us the Nexus is where Dariella said it is, but that doesn’t mean it’s not going to be a bitch to get to. She must have precautions set up in case anyone got to it before she could.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know, but I have a feeling we’re about to find out.” I say, gesturing toward Malia who is approaching us.

  “Follow me.” she beams, proud of herself. Malia follows the vendor who appears to be a young boy, maybe thirteen or fourteen.

  “How did you find out where Dariella lives so fast?” I whisper to Malia so the boy won’t hear.

  “The Aguillons own half the city. All I had to do was mention Dariella’s name and they knew exactly who I was talking about.”

  “What if this is a trap, Malia?”

  “Then it’s a good thing there are seven of us and a dozen guards at our back.” Malia says casually.

  “Why the hell would she hide it in her family home? It doesn’t make any sense.” Amara says.

  “We’ll figure it out.” Roman tells her gently. The moment their eyes meet she seems to calm, much like the sight of Haven does to me. Is it inevitable that she and I would fall for people, two siblings that we can’t have? Perhaps my mother was right. Getting involved with Novaks will only burn us. Thing is, I’m pretty sure it’s the Boudelaires that will do the burning.

  It’s a short walk to the Aguillon family home. It’s a palatial estate in its own right. With peaks and towers and a grand entrance, well-guarded.

  “Oh look, it’s guarded.” I mutter to Malia, rolling my eyes.

  “We expected this.” Amara reminds me. “Or I did at least.”

  “Do you have some fantastically elaborate lie to get us inside then sister?”

  She grins. “I do actually. The Aguillons are infamous in Llìria.” she begins to explain as we approach the black wrought-iron gates fencing in the estate. “They own half the country. Why do you think Theon chose her to begin with? It wasn’t for her giant blue eyes or seemingly harmless stature. It was because she was filthy rich and wars cost money, brother. Best part is Dariella has a brother, heir to her family’s empire.”

  “What’s that got to do with anything?”

  “You’ll see.” She winks at me and turns her smile on the approaching guard. “Hi. My name is Amara Boudelaire. Lord Aguillon is expecting us.”

  To my eternal surprise the guard steps aside as another grants us passage. My eyes widen up at Amara. She simply smiles and leads the way in while I get a sinking feelings in the pit of my stomach. Kara’s not the only one being kept out of the loop and I don’t like it.

  We’re ushered into an elaborate foyer where another guard immediately leads us to our next destination. That seems to be a beautiful dining room full of light from the floor to ceiling windows Outside there is a patch of woods. Go figure. If we have to run they’ll make for good cover, but it’s also the best way to get lost in a city we don’t know anything about apart from its name and who owns it.

  The dining table is already set. Servants move about, preparing for lunch hour. We’re left there to wait for our host, giving me time to scold Amara.

  “What is going on here, Amara?” I hiss at her. “What is happening?”

  “Would you relax? Everything is going to be fine. We’ll entertain the nobles while Roman and the others search the place for the Nexus.” Her causal tone is pissing me off and worst of all she doesn’t seem to know it.

  “Amara, I don’t like being left out of the plan. It’s dangerous.”

  “Do you trust me?”

  It’s an easy tactic. She already knows the answer and she knows it will calm me. “Of course.”

  “Then trust me now.”

  “The lost Llìrian princess in my house.” A man’s voice bellows from the doorway. “What are the chances?” He’s on older man, my father’s age maybe with salty brown hair and misty gray eyes. He’s attractive. He must be. His looks pry a smile out of Niykee and she and Malia giggle where they stand together, two girls that never giggle.

  “Lord Aguillon,” Amara flashes her winning Amara Boudelaire smile, the one she reserves for manipulating her brothers to do what she wants. He won’t be able to resist it. “It’s a pleasure to finally put a face to the name.”

  After bowing respectfully he takes her hand into the both of his, drawing it up to kiss it. “It’s an honor to have you in my home, Your Highness. I apologize for my son’s lack of punctuality. I promise he will be along any minute.”

  “Don’t worry. We have time. Let me introduce you to my, well, most of my Zodiac. My brother, Aaric.”

  “Your Highness,” He bows briefly to me.

  “Nice to meet you, Lord Aguillon.” I say, not bothering to put on a show for him. Amara is doing that well enough for the both of us.

  “And this is my brother and sister Bay and Niykee Lysander. Our friends Felix and Malia. And, of course, Roman Novak, crowned prince of Limacore and a supporter of our cause.”

  I raise an eyebrow to that. When had that happened? Roman is here because of Amara, because the thought of leaving her after being away from her for months is unfathomable, but when had he joined our cause?

  I think the agonizing greetings are over when another man walks into the room. He’s more boy than man. Tall, slim, with dark hair and red-amber eyes. The greetings start all over again with this boy, Darian Aguillon, Dariella’s older brother and heir to the Aguillon empire. Dariella must have a twin given she’s a nether user, but this boy isn’t it. He’s older, maybe in his early twenties, Keenan’s age. He’s got a serious nature about him I notice as we all sit to eat.

  Llìrian food is a lot different from the food back in Limacore. It’s got more flavor and less of a smoky taste. There are also a lot more courses. I think we’re through about three or four of them before Aguillon finally decides to enlighten us on what it is Amara has called this meeting for.

  “Now, if I’m not mistaken, most of these summits are performed at the palace so tell me, princess, why come all the way out here?” Aguillon asks her. He sounds suspicious, but my sister is prepared for the question.

  “I’m sure you’re aware that I have been back in Llìria a short time. Prior to here I was—well, the princess of Limacore and I both were being held against our will in Vakrov. So when my brother suggested we have a sit down I thought, what better way to get out and meet my people, see my home than a little…road trip?” Amara is a master. There is not one person in this room who doesn’t buy the lie. Hell, even Bay looks surprised by her grace. And the sadness in Roman’s eyes when he thinks of the time they spent apart sells it.

  “That’s a very good answer, Your Highness. What a fitting end the former king of Vakrov came to. He stabbed your back so the Borderlines stabbed his.”

  “The Borderlines?” she questions. The look in my sister’s eye is one of confusion, but also some anger. She does not like being surprised. Funny. She used to love it.

&nbs
p; “That is the rumor.” Aguillon takes up his wine, swirling it around before taking a sip. “The Borderlines freed in your escape did him in, if one is to believe such nonsense.”

  “And what do you think happened, after my escape, Lord Aguillon?” Amara takes up her own glass, leaning forward on the table where she sits across from him. It seems the consensus is that Amara was long gone before the assassination occurred and Amara picks up on that quickly.

  “I believe the Volterra boy did him in himself. It did win him a crown in the end, did it not?”

  “I suppose it did.” Amara shrugs as if she hasn’t a clue what really happened.

  “In other rumors, I’m told you plan to wed the king of Limacore’s bastard, Nikolas Novak. Isn’t that right?”

  “Nikolas is a bastard no longer, my Lord.” Amara says, surprisingly us all, apart from Roman. “You know that, Lord Aguillon. Bastards are not allowed in a royal Zodiac. While Prince Roman still remains heir to the Limacoran throne, Theron Novak legitimized his son as a boy. And while joining our Houses would be an honor, I am still considering other options. An alliance with your House would prove beneficial to our cause.”

  Aguillon smiles, knowing full well what she means by that. “Such politics should not be discussed over the dinner table. Why don’t we adjourn to the study where we can discuss this further?”

  “Good. I could use a drink.” Niykee mutters under her breath. Amara elbows her casually in the gut.

  “That’s a terrific idea my Lord.” Amara says gracefully. It’s eerie how she has a natural knack for this sort of thing.

  “The land around your estate is beautiful.” Niykee observes, staring out over the landscape.

  “It’s terrific, isn’t it?” Darian walks over to stand beside Niykee, smiling down at her as if she were a cool drink of water.

  “We’d love to see it.” Malia pipes in. Her brown eyes shift to me and she winks, letting me know she’s got a plan in motion.

  “Let us leave the politics to Amara and the men then and I’ll show you around.” Darian suggests.

  “Won’t they miss you?” Niykee asks him, though something in her voice tells me she’ll be the one missing him.