“Robberies in the Red Canyons,” she says, her fingers shaking against her hair. “Important shipments going missing.”
Roarke shifts, smiling at her and sending her heart into a flutter. A flutter! What kind of Sabers are these women?
“They sent a Saber triune from the White Castle to deal with a bandit? Sounds like overkill,” Seth says.
“It was reported to be five rogue Sabers, and reported that they were well-armed and brutal. Not the one man that we found,” the still mounted woman snaps out. No Allure needed to get her blood boiling. She’s so easily made herself into a liability for the team.
“Back on your horses,” she growls. “We’re leaving.”
“Who gave the assignment? Who signed it? Who are you trying to impress?” Roarke asks, the words ordering her to stop, to stay, to drop her guard and lose her focus.
“Arland, Zanda, and Lithael,” she answers.
Lithael. I almost smother my growl. Almost – but not quite. Which sends fear trickling through the women.
“Here,” Roarke says, lifting his hand and snapping his fingers to grab their attention. “Lithael was worried about a handful of Sabers and some missing trade – and he didn’t think the local enforcement could handle it?”
“It was five Sabers. The Black Castle has been whispering. Calling them the Black Pentad – the mirror of the White Pentad.”
That makes even Seth straighten and focus.
“We’re the White Pentad?” he asks.
Breaking Roarke’s spell. The three women look between us like they’re only just realizing who they’re talking to.
“Who knows, Seth? Servants’ gossip. Damn, the whole kingdom likes to gossip. There can’t be any other pentads, though – all Sabers are called to the White Castle. No teams are formed at the Black Castle,” Roarke says, as he runs his hand up the muscles on the back of his neck.
“But? I’m sensing a but,” Seth pushes.
“But, I guess technically they could be formed outside the castle walls if they managed to avoid the patrols and be at exactly the same spot, at the same time, but for some reason not at the front gates where the magic calls to them. And they’d have to form their bonds without the Castle’s magic as a kind of lynchpin, and then for some crazy reason run away from the castle. Weirder things have happened – there’s those four guys a few months back who got the calling, but never met the remaining two to form their triunes. They were even tested as a tetrad, but the castle rejected them. Pretty sure they’re still drinking at the local pub, waiting for the magic to release them.”
“Roarke,” I grunt.
“Right, sorry. You don’t need to remember that. You don’t even want to. Forget you know who we are, and instead tell us what you found when you adventured to this single bandit’s location. The bandit who was rumored to be five Sabers.”
“A single ShatterSeed,” one woman says. The rest just nod.
Silence sits between us – which these Sabers don’t even notice. They don’t realize the weight of that declaration. They’re young, barely released for assignments. Wouldn’t surprise me if they passed their third trial last week.
“ShatterSeeds are extinct,” Roarke says. Adding, with Compulsion in his voice, “This story is getting more and more interesting. Why did Lithael send you on this assignment? There’s no chance it was to stop the robberies. He’s not the caring-for-his-people's-wellbeing type. Come on, help me understand.”
I smile a little as the girl in the middle fights to decide what she wants to say and what she doesn’t. Roarke’s power crushes that indecision, and she succumbs almost instantly, her lip quivering as she speaks.
“We’re all TrackerSeeds – if we want to find someone, we can. We were sent after missing shipments on the trade route. Important weapons destined for the White Castle – we found a ShatterSeed.”
“Our order was to eliminate – hunt and eliminate,” one of them says. “The traitors and Krya are on the top of our Crown’s priorities.”
“Kyra – Lithael’s niece? She’s supposed to be under lock and key at the Black Castle.”
The girl shrugs.
“I’m sure what you know about Kyra is very interesting. Do share?” Roarke asks.
“We were not the only Sabers summoned and given orders,” the woman still on her horse explains. Her tone is almost completely void of emotion. “We heard the others. We shouldn’t have, but did. Sabers without triunes. Sabers not from the White Castle or the Black Castle. And Logan sent to hunt her. But to us, the Crown simply said that Kyra has been ordered to stay at the Black Castle until she gets the call, and he simply wants assurance that she isn’t taking liberties.”
“Sounds more like she should be at the Black Castle, but isn’t, and Lithael wants her found without anyone knowing that his own niece isn’t obeying his orders. She should have had the call by now – but hasn’t. I already like her,” Seth says, before switching gears to ask, “Who were these other Sabers?”
All three women back up, glancing toward the road.
“I’ve never seen prettier eyes,” Roarke coos. “And I know you have an answer for my brother.”
Despite looking the most ferocious, with her jaw tensed and her teeth grinding, it’s the one still on her horse that is giving up most of the answers.
“We only heard the end of their conversation. That Logan was hunting Kyra, and these others are to hunt the traitors.”
“What others?”
“It was a list that began with the threat of evil, then mentioned Daryan, Gartil, Sromma, and Xylon.”
“That’s only four Sabers, and Xylon we’ve already met,” Roarke muses.
The woman shrugs. “That’s what we heard. We couldn’t see anything.”
“No two guesses who the traitors are,” Seth mutters.
“We didn’t hear specifics on that either,” the woman says.
So there’s three more on our tails. Xylon was hardly an obstacle, but the BeastSeed was chosen for a reason.
“Where’s the ShatterSeed’s body?” Seth asks.
“Yes, do share the location,” Roarke coos.
“The afternoon worth of riding back that way, unless you go straight through the forest,” she says, pointing straight into the trees behind her.
She’s not looking at me – most people don’t – but I level my gaze on her and breathe in the scents she’s swathed in. Death, uncertainty, exhaustion, and truth.
“Who else knows of this cave?” My voice cuts through the Allure that Roarke has woven, making them flinch and almost cower.
“Robberies have been happening all along the western trade route. We tracked him from Lackshir markets to his cave, but still couldn’t recover the weapons. You are the first we’ve seen. No one else will know of this until we reach the castle and put in our report.”
“And we’ll be the last,” I grunt, turning to finish prepping the horses.
“You remember,” Roarke says, Allure pooling so thickly around him and the women that even Seth shuffles further along the railing and out of the magic’s heavy touch, “Hunting the ShatterSeed east of Lackshir. You found and killed him on the Arch-Straight Cliffs on the northern coast. You are riding directly back to the White Castle from the cliffs – which actually means you’re traveling in the wrong direction. I suppose you had better be on your way.”
They swallow, moving their tongues as if all moisture has been sucked from their mouths. I remember that feeling from when we were all much younger and Roarke’s power had some effect on me.
Triunes are bound together when they are called to the castle. Usually they’re strangers up to that moment in time. The magic hits them. Ties their threads. Anchors them to the castle and reels them in like fish on a line. Those threads tangle together when all three Sabers stand in a circle on soil laced with the castle’s magic. Releasing the team from the anchor to the castle and instead anchoring them to each other. Except now Lithael adds a seal to their flesh as quic
kly as he can to hammer them in place. There isn’t a Saber team alive who’s strong enough to stand against him and not be tethered to the damn White Castle. There are triunes, mostly those who are broken, who work as enforcement in villages, but they still wear castle seals, and release seals to counter the magic and tether them to their posts.
All those Sabers that arrive as strangers have to rush to form brotherhoods just to survive the trials. Lithael makes each team choose a commander, but that was just to piss Pax off. Even in a team of three, there are still rules to be made and weaknesses to be exploited. All the things that push and pull at relationship bonds. There was always a leader, but there used to be only one commander.
We were different. When we were called, we’d already worked out our differences. The trials force new Sabers to tap into each other’s magic to survive, but to do it well takes practice. Centuries of it. Something my brothers and I have – and one female mortal has managed to shatter.
I clench and unclench my fist in frustration. My Shadow is on the castle’s documents as a member of this team. As a defining point in Saber history.
She has changed the landscape for Sabers – but she can’t take the trials. Can’t learn to tap into our powers the way we can with each other. Roarke’s Allure will always poison her. My Darkness will always eat at her soul.
Pax can’t change that. He can’t make her into something she’s not. Getting Shade to hit something in self-defense, other than Roarke’s balls, even feels out of our reach.
“And what is Lithael planning to do with Kyra once she is returned to the castle?” Roarke asks as the women mount up.
“I heard him yelling to Logan. Call or no call – pretty sure she’s going into the Saber trials by the next full moon,” someone says. I’m not sure which woman, because I’m not looking and don’t particularly care.
Roarke waves at the women as they ride off back the way they came.
“Does that count as flirting?” he asks Seth, throwing me a glance like maybe he’s asking me too.
I grunt, then swat at the cool trickle sensation running over my shoulder. Damn shadow.
Ignore it, I order myself.
“Does it count if it was a side-effect of getting information?” This time Seth doesn’t bother to check my reaction.
“Caves,” I say.
“Caves?” they both echo me.
Pulling the last buckles on Pax’s big gray stallion into place, I nod.
“Right, caves,” Seth says. “And extinct Seeds. The BeastSeed was a worry, a ShatterSeed even more so.”
“Not extinct. There was one,” I correct him. “We put him in Tanakan Prison.”
Roarke sucks in a sharp breath, a sure sign he’s just pulled something into place in that racing brain of his.
“Our first summer. I remember. But if one Seed got out of Tanakan, then there could be more,” he says.
“Or he was let out,” Seth says, finally slipping from the railing and picking up his saddle.
Only to stop when he realizes that both Roarke and I are staring at him.
“What?” he asks. “I’d do it if I were Lithael. It’s the perfect army. All those Seeds desperate for freedom, willing to do anything, already evil. It’s not a big stretch of the imagination.”
He’s right.
Too right.
Roarke runs a rough hand through his hair as he speaks. “And if four Sabers were sent after us, there’s a chance all four were freed from Tanakan. All Seeds that were put away for being evil to begin with over hundreds of years. We don’t even know for sure what’s in there. We have no idea what they can do, or what they’re willing to do.”
Fuck.
Daryan, Gartil, Sromma, and Xylon. Three of them are still living. I repeat their names, committing them to memory.
Which one is going to attack us tonight?
37 miles from Potion Master Eydis
My appetite melts away, and I put the last piece of meat down. Picking up my fork gives my hands something to do, pushing the food around the plate, but that doesn’t occupy my mind or my mouth.
“I’m going to suck at this,” I say, not looking up.
“At… What?” Pax asks, very slowly, hesitation filling the gap between his words.
“At the whole mate thing. I know it was kind of out of your control. I’m sorry if I did anything –”
“You didn’t.”
He reaches across the table and stills my hand, taking my fork from my fingers and laying it onto the plate with a gentle clang. Then he draws one finger along the skin under my chin, encouraging me to look up – to look at him.
“Your brother keeps messing with me. All of your brothers do. They keep flirting and stuff,” I say.
I leave out the part where I enjoy them messing with me. Want them to. Which makes me the worst almost-mate in the kingdom.
He offers me a lopsided smile. This clearly isn’t worrying him the way it’s worrying me.
“Seth did that to test me.”
“So he didn’t want to kiss me?” I blurt out.
Crap. I hope I didn’t just sound as hurt as I feel.
“I’m sure he did.”
He did?
Not exactly the response I was prepared for, and I rush to alter the course of our conversation – otherwise, the next thing I say might include ‘can he do it again?’
“But that’s not why he did it?” I ask.
Pax shakes his head, slowly chewing through a forkful of beans before answering. “It was far more likely that he’d lose a limb than be able to kiss you as I walked past.”
My eyes go wide. “You’d attack your own brother?”
“Not me. My wolf.”
“That’s still you.”
“Not exactly. The wolf lacks the same kind of logic and reasoning that I have. He’s… lacking.”
I swallow hard. “So that’s what you meant when you said I’m not allowed any kind of relationship with anyone else.” I leave out the important part – sex.
He nods, and I groan. Because at some stage in my life, I want a husband, kids, to grow old with someone.
“Roarke told me to ask you how you feel about all of this,” I say.
He lifts an eyebrow, a hint of surprise in the expression.
“Roarke told you?”
“Well, I tried to ask him first, and he told me to ask you. So, how do you feel about this?”
“Like I’m putting you in danger.”
“Scared?” I press.
He nods, then adds. “I would be scared no matter who you were. Silvari, Saber, even Elite Saber.”
I sit on that knowledge. Pretty sure I’m scared too – him feeling the same only makes it worse.
He pushes the dishes aside to grab my hands and hold them in his, evoking death stares from the servants hovering nearby. For a moment I itch to pull away, then something shifts, and his power seeps into me like thin tendrils of lightning sliding through my veins. I’m not even sure he knows he’s doing it.
“It would help if you weren’t so damn desirable. If you looked and acted like one of them, this wouldn’t be a problem.” He nods toward a servant before continuing. “We’re going to remove this barrier and work out how to keep you safe.”
Which brings me full circle to the main problem in my life. Problem number one – the bubble.
Break this bubble, and everything changes.
Problem two – why the bralls did their mother send them to find me?
Three – what’s in that letter?
Four – what’s in Pax’s big bad past that makes the sight of my captive scars such an issue?
“I need some answers,” I begin, hijacking the conversation. “I need to know why I’m here.”
Pax shakes his head, not even a full shake, more like snapping his chin to one side while fixing me with the full intensity of his gaze. Meaning – ‘no’. His hands stiffen over mine, and I gently pull them away before his grip makes escape impossible.
“Not here. The closer we get to the border, the safer we’ll be.”
“I thought the border was more dangerous?”
“The enemy of my enemy type thing. Not many Sabers linger close to the border, and there’ll be no Silvari there.”
Before I can respond, his gaze lifts and fixes on something behind me. The second they step inside my bubble I can feel them. Confidence, wisdom, and safety. I can’t explain it. It’s not a sound, not exactly an emotion, more like something I sense – the same as that rare moment when a person can feel rain coming. It fills your body in a way that can’t exactly be described.
Killian meets Pax’s gaze, but all he does is grunt and walk past our table.
Pax jumps to his feet and follows his brother up the stairs – so that grunt must translate to ‘follow me.’
Which leaves me gawking after them in pure confusion.
“What’s that about?” I whisper, leaning into Roarke as he sits next to me and pulls one of the plates toward himself, the white ceramic scraping across the timber.
“Killian has bad news,” he says, filling his mouth with potato before I can press him for more information.
So I lean in the other direction – toward where Seth is sitting down in the spot Pax just left. Reaching out, I grab the last plate before Seth can get it.
“Spill. Now.”
Seth smiles at me, that twinkle in his ice blue eyes and a dimple on one cheek. Great, I think I just challenged the guy.
No going back now.
“You need to watch your figure anyway, princess,” I say, pushing the plate completely out of his reach.
His other cheek dimples.
“Whoever gets the plate first wins,” he declares, pouncing across the table.
I dive after him, grabbing a handful of something mushy on my way over the table. Potato, by the feel of it. Which I instantly regret, not because of the potato but because I use my right arm to propel myself off the table and have to swallow down a grunt of pain.
I am putting food in his hair, no matter how much my arm is throbbing right now.
Shadows and Shade Box Set Page 44
