by Boyce, S. M.
“She’s already given you Kirelm. What else can she do? She’s an infant compared to the rest of the Bloods.”
“Perhaps, but I want the Bloods at my mercy. That naïve girl is going to help me achieve that.”
Deidre lifted an eyebrow as if to ask, How?
He grinned, but didn’t indulge the silent question. He owned Evelyn, even if the child didn’t see it, and his revenge on the other kingdoms would be sweet. Carden spent his life subservient to the Bloods who ruled the other kingdoms. His people could never expand—any new cities beyond the reach of the Stele were destroyed by the other kingdoms within months. They could never trade or do more than survive in the icy patch of nothing they inherited from a banished race. They deserved better. He deserved better.
Peace was never an option. He planned to rule them all. And Evelyn would help him do it.
Carden studied Deidre, debating whether or not he could tell her the truth. The success of his plan depended on her, but he wasn’t convinced she knew it yet. The conniving isen would probably milk him for everything he had if she did.
As per an agreement they made long ago, Deidre would soon lead him to the table his ancestor made—the one Aislynn used to give her niece the bloodline. When Carden owned the table, he would drain each Blood and take their power until every yakona alive answered only to him.
Carden would be the first Blood in recorded history to have every bloodline. He would rule Ourea.
Deidre’s lips curved into one of the smiles that unsettled him—her eyes shone as if she knew something he didn’t, and that always frayed his nerves. Those smiles of hers left behind the lingering worry that she was up to something.
No matter—she needed him. That was part of their agreement. Only he could kill her master, and she would give him his ancestral table in return. It was their pact, forged years ago. The moment he killed Niccoli, she would give him the table, now that she finally had its location. But until he fulfilled his end of the bargain, she wouldn’t leave—she wouldn’t risk losing the only man who could kill her master. And thus, she needed him. Carden would keep her dependent upon him as long as he could. She was useful...and he planned on enjoying her fully before he freed her. For that to happen, he needed more time.
Deidre grimaced. “I don’t like it when you’re quiet. It means you’re plotting.”
He grinned. “I suppose you women need your chatter.”
Her beautiful face distorted into a scowl that would have withered lesser men. Carden just laughed.
“I doubt you care about my plotting,” he said.
“Try me.”
“Oh? Have you figured me out already?”
“Perhaps not, but I know that you’ve begun picking off the Bloods one by one on purpose. This little war of yours is all going according to plan, isn’t it? With Blood Lorraine dead, her son Gavin was blinded by a lust for revenge, as you’d hoped. It distracted the boy and made him easy to manipulate even from afar.”
Carden raised his eyebrows, impressed. “And?”
“And I know you weren’t expecting that son of yours to free the Heirs of Losse and Kirelm after the Gala. You wanted them for something, though I’m not yet sure what.”
Her lips twitched. Carden figured that had been a barely-contained lie. She knew damn well what he was doing. His isen was craftier than he imagined, but he didn’t know why she would show her hand like that. Perhaps she had a weakness after all—vanity.
Nonetheless, she was right. Carden gritted his teeth at the thought of his escaped prisoners, but he would pay his idiot son back soon enough.
“Why are you killing Bloods but saving Heirs?” she asked.
He examined her in silence, debating. He could tell her. He still owned her. It wasn’t as though she would ever get in his way. She didn’t care about yakona. Her only desire in life was getting revenge on Niccoli. In that manner—and in only that manner—she was harmless.
So he obliged.
“Young Bloods, when freshly turned, are weaker. Easier to control. Easier to manipulate,” Carden said. He would have an easier time of detaining, draining, and killing them than he would their parents.
“What ultimate fate do you have planned for our sweet, naïve Evelyn?” Deidre asked.
“Why so curious?”
Deidre teased him with a glance through her lashes. “Jealousy.”
Carden grinned. “It should be fairly easy to leverage her hatred for drenowith even after I control Kirelm. When I have all of the Bloods in my prison, I’m going to reveal her betrayal to them just for fun.”
Deidre laughed. “How cruel! I love it.”
But Carden wasn’t done. He wanted to test the waters of Deidre’s supposed jealousy—and that was the only reason he continued. “And once I throw her in a cell, I’ll give her a choice: die the same death of her peers or carry my child.”
Deidre’s smile faded. “What?”
“I still need an heir.”
Braeden would die soon enough, thankfully, and Carden wanted a son with all of the Bloodlines. He needed an Heir to every throne, wrapped into one body. Whether Evelyn gave him her blood or had his Heir, the young queen would serve him well.
Deidre frowned and stood, but Carden was faster. He crossed the floor and pushed her back into her seat before she could even step toward the door.
She glared up at him. For a moment, he let himself believe a woman like Deidre could actually feel jealousy. Her past had scarred her too deeply to feel much of anything but hatred, and that was about all he knew of her. She would never want him, not really, but he could toy with her long enough to make her think she did.
His voice came out low, like a growl. “Like I said, the girl has her uses. You have much more.”
She smirked, those eyes tinged with the secret knowledge that drove him crazy. She was always up to something, but she needed him. She would never betray him—he would never give her the opportunity.
Without another word, he turned for the hallway and left Deidre in his office. He shut the door behind him and, on his way down the hall, issued silent orders to his generals regarding Braeden’s upcoming visit. He hummed all the while.
Carden’s days of banishment were nearly over, and he would be the greatest Blood in history. None would rival him. In this finale his son was planning, Carden would finally revel in the blood of those who had exiled his people for so long.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
RESPITE
Braeden stretched out on his bed, waiting. His heart thumped in his chest as he recalled the way Kara took over the council meeting. No hesitation. No fear. She dominated the conversation, and the Bloods obeyed as well as royalty can. She challenged those who had enslaved her with audacity Braeden envied. She spoke about death like she wasn’t afraid—and since she met Death once already, perhaps she wasn’t scared to see him again. Braeden just wouldn’t let her go quite yet.
He took a deep breath to steady his pulse. It didn’t work. His heart raced as fast as his thoughts, and he wondered what to say when she came back. He might not say anything, and let his hands speak for him. He wouldn’t be able to restrain this desire much longer.
The door opened and shut. Braeden glanced toward the entry to find Kara standing with one hand on the doorknob, staring at the floor. She frowned, eyes out of focus and shifting in their sockets as she lost herself to thought.
The top flap of her satchel lifted to reveal a furry head with massive eyes. Flick’s tail curled upward, lifting the lid higher as he examined the room. When the little creature’s eyes landed on the bed, he squeaked and, with a crack, appeared on a pillow. He circled the plush cotton a few times before curling into a ball.
Kara ran a hand through her hair and cursed under her breath.
“What’s wrong?” Braeden asked.
“I’m not sure. That’s the problem.”
“Was it something Evelyn said?”
Kara nodded. “Something seems off about her, more so th
an when she and I last spoke. It’s like she just made up her mind about...something. I have no idea what, but I have a bad feeling about this.”
“Should we talk to her?”
“You really think that will do anything? She seems angry at the world.”
Braeden shrugged. “What should we do, then?”
“I don’t know.” Kara shook her head and sat on the edge of the bed. She rubbed her face and stared at the floor.
Braeden scooted closer and rubbed her shoulders. She leaned back as his thumbs skimmed over her shoulder blades. The muscles along her back barely moved at his touch, strained as they must have been from her training and the stress of Ourean politics.
“You need to relax,” he said.
“You weren’t there. You wouldn’t be able to relax either.”
“It’s not like she can really do anything. Her aunt exposed Ayavel when she allowed the Bloods inside. She was just outvoted in her own home by guests who are supposed to respect her input, and she’s probably upset about it. I don’t think you have anything to worry about, Kara. Evelyn is harmless.”
Kara twisted to face him. “No Blood is harmless.”
He sighed. “Poor choice of words. My point is she’s not going to do anything rash. It would hurt her and her people. You’re probably exhausted after your meeting. You need to rest up before we go back for round two after dinner. Relax, okay?”
She let out a breath and flopped back on the bed. “I haven’t relaxed in ages.”
“So I gathered.”
She took deep, steady breaths and closed her eyes. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders and framed her head like a halo. Braeden stretched out next to her, smiling from the joy of being near her. When he thought he couldn’t adore her more, she did something to make him fall a little more in love.
“I probably won’t get to stay long,” Kara said, eyes still closed.
Braeden laughed. “You can’t even relax for two minutes, woman.”
She didn’t smile. “Evelyn is going to send a note to Ithone. He’ll be curious to see what I want. He’ll let me go to the Kirelm capital.”
“He’ll be more than curious. He’ll try to kidnap you.”
“The key word is ‘try.’”
“I know you’re more powerful now, but don’t get cocky.”
She peeked up at him through a half-closed eyelid. “I’m not. I just know what I can do.”
Braeden raised an eyebrow. “Fair enough.”
She continued. “Besides, I don’t want it to come to that. I want to show him I respect his culture and his position. I won’t make the same mistakes I did last time I visited Kirelm. I even brought the presents I got at the gala. I figure wearing the necklace they gave me is a good start.”
“A start, maybe. It won’t bring him back.”
“No, it won’t. Hopefully reason will.”
Braeden set his cheek on the cool blanket. Silence settled between them, and Kara closed her eyes again. He watched her chest rise and fall with each deep breath. She lost weight in her time at the village. Her cheekbones and jaw had more defined edges. The sharp tip of her nose pointed toward the ceiling. Her eyelids fluttered. She had to be deep in thought, maybe planning what she would say to Ithone.
Braeden poked her side. In a single movement, Kara flinched, curled her knees upward to protect her core, and grabbed his wrist in a vice grip. Her fingers pinched his skin, but he didn’t move. He eyed her, impressed and amused all at once. How did she wind herself so tightly?
“What was that for?” she asked.
“Stop thinking.”
“That’s not something I can just turn off.”
He dragged her near and poked her side again.
She laughed and swatted him away. “Stop that!”
Braeden grinned and ran his fingertips up her torso, tickling any surface he could reach. She squirmed, laughing and trying to get away at the same time. He grabbed her waist and tugged her closer, never letting her get more than a foot or two from him. Flick yawned from his pillow and scooted a little farther away to avoid the melee.
Kara grabbed Braeden’s arm and wrapped her leg around his. With a twist of her shoulders, she flipped him onto his back. He hesitated, frozen in surprise, but she launched into an attack of her own. She ran her fingertips over his stomach, but he tensed his abs.
Braeden smirked. “I’m not ticklish.”
“Unfair!”
“Stelians don’t fight fair.”
He flipped her onto her back and lay down next to her. She smiled and ran a hand through his hair. She examined his face, though he wasn’t sure what she was looking for. He didn’t mind. She studied him, smiling all along.
“Thanks,” she said.
He nodded. “Someone has to keep you in line.”
She tapped his nose with her finger. “There’s no one better suited for the task than you.”
He swallowed hard, that question bubbling to the surface again: be mine forever. Should he ask her now? He didn’t even know what to say or what he would do if she said no. Thoughts bounced around in his head. His gut churned. His mouth went dry. He opened his mouth twice to speak, but nothing came out.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
He laughed. “Nothing. Never mind.”
“Liar. You look nervous.”
“I want to ask you something.”
“Go for it.”
He caught her eye. She stared at him, blond, wide-eyed, and beautiful. He could do it. He should do it.
He opened his mouth, but the words died on his tongue. Kara was one of the few good things he had in life. If he rushed something as important as a lifelong bond, he could lose her. He could make her uncomfortable. As close as they were, he could push her away if he moved too fast. So instead of asking the question that set his nerves on fire, he sighed and asked the first thing that came to mind. “Will you sleep in here tonight?”
She grinned. “I was denied my own room, so I figure that’s the plan. Thanks for reminding me. You’d better behave, mister.”
Braeden smiled, but couldn’t bring himself to say much more. He may have missed an opportunity. She might have said yes without question.
Though he’d lost his nerve, he would still be able to spend the evening with her. That was enough for now. If Evelyn had denied Kara a room, at least the crazy queen managed to do something right.
His next meeting with the Bloods would begin soon, and he wouldn’t leave Kara’s side for a moment. The Bloods would ask her to go to Kirelm. She would say yes. They would inevitably demand more from her, and she would have to decide how far to push her luck in the council. Regardless of whatever the two of them faced, Braeden would keep her safe for as long as he could.
And once the meeting ended, they would curl up in his room and sleep. He would wrap an arm around her waist, lean in, and savor whatever time with her he had left.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
JOURNEY
The morning after her return to Ayavel, Kara woke to a hand tightening its grip on her shoulder. It pulled her back a half inch. The force dragged her body along the sheet. For a second, she panicked.
Braeden’s hand tensed again as she looked about. His left arm had wrapped around her in the night. It snaked over her waist and across her chest, his hand cupping her right shoulder. He mumbled something and burrowed his cheek into her neck. The man still slept in his Hillsidian form, though everyone knew what he was. Incredible.
Sunlight streamed through the windows along the left side of his bed, the curtains tucked behind a hook on either side of the frame. Clouds sped by on what had to be a windy day. She couldn’t see anything but the sky from this angle.
Careful not to wake Braeden, she twisted in his grip to get a better look at him. Strands of his dark hair slipped over his face. The olive tone of his skin lured her in, teasing her to touch him. His eyes fluttered beneath their lids—who knew what he dreamed of. Carden? His old life of killing isen?
Kara’s jaw tensed. She wouldn’t think about that.
His arm—now around her back—pulled her closer. He smiled in his sleep and mumbled again.
She grinned. “What was that?”
He repeated himself, still mumbling, but followed it up with a louder question. “Well, will you?”
“Will I what?”
Braeden blinked himself awake and glanced around. Darn. She shouldn’t have asked so loudly.
“You talk in your sleep,” she said with a smile.
He laughed. “What did I say?”
“All I could make out was ‘will you.’”
His smile faded. He swallowed hard. “Nothing else?”
Kara narrowed her eyes and grinned wider. “What are you hiding from me?”
Instead of answering, he smirked. His fingers slipped down to her waist, distracting her. Her breath caught at his touch. His dark eyes stole her attention, and he shot her that devilish grin of his. He leaned in, only inches from her face, and—
He tickled her.
A laugh—it sounded more like a hiccup, really—burst through her lips. He laughed along with her but wouldn’t surrender. His fingers traveled along her sides, shooting sparks through to her core. She wanted to kiss him and hit him, all at once.
“Nothing else, right?” he pressed.
“Nothing!” she said with a gasp. More laughter escaped.
“Good.” He relented and settled back onto the bed.
“Cheater.”
“You liked it.”
She just shook her head. He kissed her cheek and lay against the pillows, pulling her along with him. His nose tickled the tip of her ear.
“You should stay,” he whispered.
“If Ithone refuses to see me, I won’t have any other choice.”
“He won’t. He’ll want you close. He’ll probably try to kidnap you or trick you into staying.”
“That didn’t work for Losse. Won’t work for him, either.”
She tilted her head toward him and caught his eye. A smile tugged at his lips, and he just watched her. She couldn’t quite make out the expression on his face—pride?
