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Island Shifters: Book 01 - An Oath of the Blood

Page 16

by Valerie Zambito

“Dinner? Father, we really do not have time…”

  “Kiernan, there is etiquette to be followed even in times of war. This dinner with my Court has been planned for weeks now, and I do not intend to cancel. I will need their support in any case. Now, tell me about these Cymans,” he ordered.

  Kiernan recounted what Titus told them of the Cyman’s human and Desert Troll genealogy and of the horrible experiments inflicted upon them by Adrian Ravener. The King gave her a penetrating look. “And, why do you have one of these creatures hiding in my stables, then? He smells and he is scaring the horses.”

  Demons breath, she cursed to herself. “He is one of the Cyman soldiers that we captured during the initial conflict with the enemy at The Crown Bluffs in Pyraan.”

  “Why is he still alive?” he demanded.

  “Originally, we kept him alive to gather intelligence about the invaders.”

  “And now?”

  She hesitated. “He…. is a friend.”

  His eyes held disappointment. “I had hoped that your decision making would have improved with age. Princesses need to be wise in order to lead their people.”

  Kiernan stiffened her back. “I am a shifter first, father. By your decree.”

  The King paled and then said brusquely, “I will see you at dinner. Oh, and wear your House colors. That dress is entirely unsuitable.”

  It was a dismissal.

  Kiernan asked one of the servants to show Airron and Rogan to their rooms so they could wash before dinner. Beck walked with her to the bedroom she used as a child and stood with her now before her chamber door.

  “I guess that went as well as could be expected given the circumstances,” he said, leaning his shoulder into the stone wall of the corridor.

  “Went well? My father is a condescending, arrogant pighead! But, I suppose,” she conceded, “that he does genuinely care very much for the people of Iserlohn.”

  “As do you,” replied Beck with a lazy smile.

  “Yes.”

  He reached out to touch the wavy curls framing her face. “I am discovering many new sides to the gangly girl who has been my best friend for six years. Sides I knew nothing about, Your Grace.”

  “Do not call me that! Ever!” she said forcefully. Then, more demurely. “Do you like all my different sides?”

  He pushed off the wall. “No.”

  Her shoulders stiffened.

  “I love all of your different sides. Even those same qualities of your father that he has passed down to you.”

  “Brute!” She playfully reached out to slap him, but he caught her wrist in his large hand and an electrical current surged through her.

  He stared at her hungrily.

  “Would it be proper for me to enter your bed chamber, Princess Everard? Just to be sure everything is safe inside, of course.”

  She found it hard to breathe. “It would be highly improper for you to do so, Master Atlan. However, it appears that we really have no choice in the matter.”

  Still gazing into his blue eyes, she opened the door and they entered together. As soon as it closed behind them, Beck grabbed her by the shoulders and swung her up against the wall, pressing his body hard against hers.

  “I have wanted to do this for a long time,” he growled. He brought his mouth down on hers, and she responded instantly, her mouth opening to his. The world shifted as they melted together, burning in their desire for each other. He ran his lips over hers in a teasing caress that left her trembling. The back of his fingers stroked one side of her face and then trailed down, feather light, first to her neck, then further still to caress the curve of her breast through the delicate fabric of her dress. Her breath caught in her throat and she moaned softly against his mouth as his touch produced an unexpected spasm down low, a pleasure-filled throb she had never experienced before.

  She pulled him tighter to her, inhaling his scent, and ran her fingers through his hair. Beck snatched her wrists and pinned them above her head on the wall while his knee snaked between her legs to hold her in place. His head bent to her ear and then down to her throat, nipping at her skin.

  She was on fire.

  Lifting his head to look at her with eyes heavy with need, he slowly, very slowly, lowered one of his hands to the tie in the back of her dress. She whimpered as the dress fell down to her waist, tumbling her breasts free. She bit her lip shyly as he looked at her with unadulterated admiration.

  “You are so beautiful,” he said with a ragged breath.

  He cupped one of her breasts in his hand and ran a thumb over her nipple. Longing raced through her, and her knees buckled. Beck immediately caught her, picked her up and walked to her large, canopied childhood bed and laid her down. His fingers brushed her hips as he gathered her dress and slid it the rest of the way down her body and tossed it to the floor.

  His eyes soaked her in for a few long seconds before he leaned down and his mouth found her breast, his breath hot on her skin as he ran his tongue over its surface. She arched up into him with a strangled cry.

  When she did not think she could take much more, he stood to remove his own clothing. She watched him through lidded eyes, his powerfully built body magnificent.

  She lay there naked and vulnerable while her blood pounded through her veins.

  At last, Beck lowered himself on top of her and she had never felt so loved, so complete in her life.

  Later that evening, Beck entered the transformed Grace Hall with Rogan and Airron. There appeared to be close to thirty people in attendance at the King’s dinner, and Beck recognized several of them. He nodded politely to Bo Franck, the graying Captain of the Iserlohn Army, who was speaking quietly to Captain Colbie Nash of the Scarlet Sabers. Lord Davad Etin was there as well in the same brilliant red and blue coat he was wearing earlier. Rory Greeley was backed into a corner with an assertive Larkin Malley who was dressed in servant livery and having what appeared to be a one-sided conversation.

  There were several other members in military regalia that he did not know, and Iserlohn’s highborn Lords and Ladies, the King’s Court, were all present, dressed elegantly in formal attire.

  “Pardon me,” said a soft feminine voice, and they turned to see one of the King’s Ladies, a lovely brown-haired woman of about thirty years. “I have never met an Elf before,” she said looking at Airron. “You are really quite beautiful.”

  Airron lit up in his trademark grin. “Asha. Thank you, my lady,” he said, lifting her gloved hand and bowing dramatically.

  “I am the Lady Lillian Knapp of House Knapp, but please call me Lilly.”

  “And you may call me Airron, Lilly.” Airron boldly fixed the Lady in his almond-shaped, purple eyes. “If you are interested in learning more about the Elves, Lilly, meet me in the royal gardens after the dinner, and I will teach you everything I know.”

  “Which isn’t much,” Rogan murmured under his breath to Beck.

  Lilly met his gaze just as brazenly. “I would like that, Airron.”

  “Until then, Lilly,” and he let go of her hand with another flourish.

  As soon as she walked away, Airron said, “That woman is going to make a man of me yet.”

  “You are not right, my friend,” said Rogan, shaking his head.

  Beck ignored the bantering and looked around at the beautiful Hall and the incredible workmanship of the mural above his head. In the glow of candlelight, dinner tables were dressed impeccably with scarlet and black linens and placed strategically throughout the great room, all facing the King’s much larger, raised table in the same location that his throne had sat earlier.

  A hush went over the room and a liveried servant stepped forward. “Lords and Ladies, honored guests, may I present to you, the Princess of Iserlohn, Princess of Men, Kiernan Grace Everard.”

  Beck turned and sucked in his breath at the vision before him. He had never seen a more beautiful sight in his life. Except perhaps for the one his eyes had feasted on earlier that evening, he corrected himself with
a smile. Kiernan was wearing a high-waisted, red silk gown with a low-cut square neckline. The silken material, gathered just beneath her bosom under a black velvet ribbon, hung to the floor in shimmering waves. Her long blonde hair was piled artfully on top of her head with soft ringlets loosely framing her face and neck. The crowning touch was the ruby and onyx tiara that glittered in the light of hundreds of candles. A velvet choker around her neck discretely hid her athame from view.

  Her idea or her father’s?

  As always, Bajan stood by her side.

  Captain Nash stepped forward to take Kiernan’s hand, and he held it high between them as he escorted her to the King’s table.

  King Maximus entered the Hall behind his daughter, and before he could be properly announced, he said loudly, “Please have a seat. As much as I abhor mixing business with pleasure, we have important matters to discuss.”

  Kiernan glanced over at Beck who was taking a seat at one of the tables with Airron and Rogan and her stomach tightened in pleasure as she thought about their encounter. She barely noticed as Captain Nash bowed over her hand and kissed it before holding out her chair and then taking the one next to her for himself.

  As soon as the King stepped up onto the raised dais, he addressed the crowd. “Thank you all for coming. Regrettably, what was supposed to be an informal dinner must now be deemed a War Council.”

  The Nysians glanced around uncomfortably at each other while they hurriedly sat down.

  “As you know,” he said calmly and without emotion, “a host of invaders attempted to breach the outer wall to Nysa earlier today. Fortunately, the Iserlohn Army was able to repel the attack.”

  Kiernan looked at her father with a raised eyebrow.

  “One of these invaders even managed to get into the city and make an assassination attempt upon my life. My daughter, the Princess, stopped him with her sword.”

  Surprised gasps were followed by nervous applause for their Princess.

  “With great remorse, I must now inform you that the fears of our ancestors have come to pass, and the protective measures they put in place centuries ago have failed. The shifters of Pyraan have been defeated.”

  More anxious twitter from the guests. Kiernan did not like the way this was going.

  “The very same Mage who started the war over three hundred years ago has invaded Massa through The Crown Bluffs in the north, and all of the people and the land of Pyraan have been destroyed. With the exception of five shifters who escaped this massacre, magic is no more.”

  This time there were several shouts of approval.

  Kiernan glanced up as the doors banged open and two Sabers entered with a large struggling man between them, a black hood thrown over his head.

  The nervous guests scraped back their chairs and turned toward the commotion at the door.

  The King continued as if nothing was happening in the back of the room, all passivity suddenly gone. “This Mage must be stopped at all costs! He is ruthless and devious and intends to enslave the people of Massa! He covets our women and children!”

  Lord Etin’s chair crashed to the floor as he stood. “Never! Iserlohn’s swords will cut him to bloody pieces!”

  Kiernan thought she saw a slight smile on her father’s face. He was a cunning orator, and he continued now with deliberate fervor in his voice. “This Mage leads a mutant army to do his killing! To kill Massans!” King Maximus lifted his arm and pointed to the figure in the back. “Guests, behold! I give you the face of the enemy!” All eyes turned around as one of the Scarlet Sabers roughly pulled off the black hood of the prisoner.

  Titus stopped struggling and rose proudly to his full height amidst the screams of the women.

  Kiernan stood up. “Father, please, do not do this,” she pleaded quietly.

  Maximus ignored her, his voice growing louder. “We will avenge the shifters who gave their lives protecting the people of Massa!”

  Applause.

  “We will persevere in the defense of this great nation!”

  Applause.

  “And!” the King paused. “We will throw these animals back into the sea from which they crawled!”

  Thunderous applause and shouts filled the room.

  The King held his hand up. Then, he pointed again to Titus and lowered his voice, “Starting with this one.”

  The guests rose to their feet in a pronouncement of unmitigated allegiance to their King.

  Kiernan knew she had to stop this. She tried to meet Beck’s eyes over the heads of the crowd.

  Suddenly, the doors swung open a second time and a tall, handsome man with long, blonde hair worn tied back strode into the room disregarding the protests of several servants. He appeared to be in his fortieth year with a strong chiseled face that was mostly unlined. A black cape hung from his broad shoulders and flowed out behind him as he walked into Grace Hall. The most remarkable thing about him was his eyes, thought Kiernan. They were startling blue in color and wise and knowing beyond his years, with a hint of mischief twinkling just beneath the surface.

  “Apologies for my lateness, Max,” he said to the King informally. “I was unexpectedly delayed.”

  “I should have known you would show up, Galen Starr. You always did have a nose for trouble.”

  Chapter 15

  THE EXPENDABLE PAWN

  The elusive Mage strode swiftly through the newly dubbed War Council seated in Grace Hall directly to her father’s table and bowed. “And you, my dear King, always had a knack for rousing the masses,” he said softly, out of earshot of the others.

  The King smirked and said, “It has been a very long time, Starr. I just regret that our reunion is due to unfortunate circumstances.”

  “Why else would I be here except for unfortunate circumstances, Your Grace?” he quipped. “May I have the floor?”

  The King nodded and then took Kiernan’s hand to lead her off the raised dais to the floor, gesturing to the Captains and officers at his table to follow.

  Kiernan was surprised when Galen walked to the back of the room to stand in front of Titus, who was still being held securely by his arms. The Mage shook his head in regret. “My apologies to you, young man. It seems my former apprentice has much to answer for. With your permission, I would like to speak to you in private after this council as there are many questions that I need answered.”

  Titus looked taken aback, but nodded his head.

  Addressing the Sabers with authority, Galen said, “Return this man to his cell until I can speak to him, but do not harm him.” It was an order. “Then, see to it that we are not interrupted by anyone, including servants. Dinner will have to wait.”

  The soldiers hesitated and then glanced at Captain Colbie Nash who nodded. “Do as he says.”

  As soon as Titus and the Sabers left the Hall, Galen walked forward and addressed her father again. “Again, my apologies, Your Grace, but events on the island are spinning out of control and time is of very limited supply. If you will, please introduce your guests to me. I would like to know to whom I speak.”

  The King glared at Galen. “Very well, Mage, but you are testing my patience with your grandiosity.”

  Galen smiled and tilted his head in acknowledgment, but Kiernan again noticed an underlying sparkle in the man’s eyes.

  Each guest came forward as he or she was called. The King introduced the two Captains of the military and several of their top officers. Next, he introduced the six Lords and Ladies of his Court, Lords Etin, Winslow, Hamilton and Paxton, and Ladies Conry and Knapp. Lastly, he presented the shifters.

  Once the introductions were complete, Galen approached Bajan and bowed deeply at the waist. Bajan clicked his tongue, clearly satisfied at the display of respect. “I am honored to meet you, Draca. I have had many dealings with your Sovereign, Moombai, over the years and hold the Draca Cats in the very highest of esteem.”

  Bajan’s eyes turned black.

  Princess, thank the Mage and tell him I am pleased by his word
s

  After Kiernan translated, Galen inquired, “May I ask his name?”

  “Bajan.”

  “Ah, a very noble moniker, indeed.” Galen bowed once more and turned to face the War Council with outstretched arms. “Let us all sit down. It is imperative that you understand the occurrences that have led to our current situation and what must be done to repel this invasion of evil.” He walked toward the tables and with a casual flick of his wrist, several chairs skidded across the floor to rearrange into a half circle.

  Lord Etin’s face reddened in fury. “Your Grace! I am sure the Mage must have a purpose for all of his dramatic antics, but flaunting magic in the face of the law? In the palace of the King?”

  Before the King could respond, Galen put his hands up again in concession. “You are right, Lord…Etin, is it not? Forgive me, Lord Etin, but my gift is such a natural part of who I am that I have forgotten where I am.” He held his hand out to the chairs. “Please. No disrespect was intended.”

  The wary Council Members took their seats and Galen, throwing his cape back to billow over the back of his chair, sat down with them. “Let me start by telling you why Adrian Ravener has chosen this time to start a war with the Island of Massa.” He paused. “It is because of me. Because I am dying.”

  Kiernan looked around the room at all of the stunned faces that must have mirrored her own. It was hard for her to believe that this imposing, vibrant man was dying.

  “Not only am I dying, but Ravener knows this as well. He knows that safeguards I have created will be vulnerable once I die. As you all should know from our histories, there were four original Savitars who defeated Adrian Ravener in his original quest for dominion over the people of Massa. He has now returned three hundred years later for the very same purpose—domination. Adrian is a magician of immense power and will give no quarter. He must be utterly destroyed. The only way to do so is to unlock an ancient magical counter that….”

  Captain Franck snorted an interruption. “An arrow through his black heart will kill him the same as any man.”

 

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