by Lynn Carmer
“Your father left his personal journal behind and then mysteriously disappeared? Was it very difficult to find?” The wheels were turning in her mind. She had learned so much from the journal, the force of the man’s personality had jumped off the page.
A harsh laugh fell from his lips. “No, it was in his desk. My brothers and I, none of us could—We just didn’t want to touch his things after he—A part of me was convinced he would come striding through the door, shouting orders. But he never did.”
“He left it for you?” After everything she’d read, she knew for a fact the journal was meant for him. And she’d found out so much. Gods, did he even know half the things his father had written?
Stopping, he walked over and dropped to his knees, placing his hands over hers, over the bars. The warmth of his palms made her feel languid, decadent. The fluttering in her stomach increased. With a light squeeze, he said, “I never considered it. Maybe he’s somewhere trapped, like we are, by the Bicullis. Nine hells! Fifty years! All this time we could have been looking for him. He could even be here.” A spark lit his face, hope dancing along his features.
Hesitantly, she said, “Maybe he’s with your mother?” She held her breath, waiting for his answer.
Not stopping for a second, he responded, “Impossible. Never knew her. He paid her for me.”
“What?”
“It’s nothing to be upset about. It was all done civilly. He wanted a son, she was willing. Twelve months later, he brought me home. There were hundreds of women who served my every need. I didn’t miss a thing.”
Her head swirled from the change of topic. He truly appeared to have no connection to the woman who birthed him. She didn’t have the same sense of detachment when she thought of her mother. There were so many feelings associated with her, the strongest being emptiness. Caprice couldn’t help but wonder if he knew how much information the journal held about his mother and her people. “Arun, you’re mother—”
“Do you think he’s trapped?” Arun asked, still focused on his father.
She had so much to tell him, she didn’t know where to begin. “Possibly, but I doubt it.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I read the journal. Your father did hundreds of experiments. He understands the Bicullis better than anyone. I think he may have made a conscious decision to leave.”
“Gods. Brant was right; I should have read the damn thing first. I can’t think about my father right now. Please, tell me you read something in there that will get us the hell out of here.”
I read many things. “Well, it was convoluted, more notes than instructions, but toward the end, it got interesting.” Sitting back on her heels, she leaned down and picked up the book. Leafing through, she found the page she’d been looking for and held it up for his perusal. “Your father wrote detailed accounts of the portal and its connection to the sun. Apparently it has to do with crepuscular rays and why the Bicullis can only be seen during twilight or sunset.”
“What kind of rays?” He sat back, his hand lingering, brushing up her arm as he rose. Pacing the small room, he occasionally punched a wall or the wooden door, testing it for weakness.
“I’m not exactly sure. The whole thing is fascinating.” Lost in the book again, she wished she had a few more hours to pore over the journal, but the light in the room was fading fast. “Apparently they are the rays of the setting and rising sun, when they are obstructed by a mountain or a cloud. They are only visible when there is enough dust in the atmosphere to be seen.”
“But what does that have to do with the Bicullis?”
“It’s what allows the Bicullis to be visible. In some kingdoms, it appears at both sunrise and sunset, but for others, it appears only once.”
“Does that mean it’s always there but we can only see it at certain times?” He stopped pacing and was facing her.
Tugging on a braid, she nodded. “But don’t count on finding it. Your father tried that several times. It moves during night and day, only remaining fixed at sunrise and sunset.”
“It moves? So the end point moves too? Is that how we ended up here, because the Bicullis had shifted? By the gods, that would mean we might never get home, if there’s no fixed point, no way to return from where we came.”
Taking a deep breath, she glanced up from the book. His pacing increased, circling like a caged snow-bear. Caprice loved the pull and stretch of his muscles as he paced. “Well, according to your father, there is a way, but it’s… I mean, I’m not sure how reliable the advice is.”
“What does that mean? You didn’t seem to have a problem with the rest of it? Why would you doubt him?”
“Because he says the reason we ended up here is—Well, I don’t know quite how to explain it. He said you can will the Bicullis or ask it where you want to go. It gets tricky after that, because sometimes it agrees and sends you where you want, but… your father thinks most of the time it sends you where you need to go.”
“What? What do you—”
She cut him off before she lost her nerve. “He says it decides, it … knows. His words, not mine.”
Keys clinked and scraped; they both turned towards Caprice’s side of the jail. The door of her cell opened, and Cameo poked her head through. “Hiya, Glissante. Do me a favor and put your puppy on a leash; I’d rather not be burned to a crisp. Thought I’d bring you some grub. You guys decent?”
Caprice’s head buzzed with trying to decipher the words that came out of this crazy woman’s mouth. Cameo brought in a tray loaded with breads and fruits. Caprice’s mouth watered. When was the last time she’d eaten?
The Giant tightened his hands on the bars, and she knew he imagined them wrapped around Cameo’s neck.
“Down, boy. Hey! Tell your pet to sit or play dead. I don’t like the look on his face.” After placing the tray on the ground, she crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down.
Trying to sound gracious and maybe get some information that would help them, she said, “Thank you, Cameo. My name is Caprice, by the way.”
“You exchange names with her, but not me?” The Giant grunted and began pacing again, a scowl on his battered face. He kept an eye on Cameo the whole time.
“As I was saying, thank you. But I’m a bit surprised you were the one to deliver the food?” Caprice let the question linger, raising her eyebrows, hoping for an answer.
“I volunteered, actually. Things didn’t end exactly the way I wanted between us the last time we danced, buuut I had a nice long chat with The First, and now I feel differently. For now. Of course, if you touch one of my sisters again, I will sing you off the side of a cliff. Understand?” Grim determination replaced the usual smirk.
“Trust me, I have no desire to walk anywhere except through the Bicullis and back to my home.”
“We’ll see.” Cameo had a strange look in her eye, and she seemed to be studying Caprice, an intense look on her face. It reminded Caprice of the way the leader had studied her, earlier.
Cameo finally looked away, and when she glanced back, the intensity was gone. “You and lover boy have an appointment bright and early tomorrow morning with The First. Just goes to show you can’t believe the rumors that the Hamazakaran don’t fight fair. She has given you this day and night to recover to meet the coming challenges. Rest up. Oh yeah, I have something special for you.”
She reached back and brought in a large bowl with steaming hot water. “Thought you might like to clean up, you know, in preparation for when you dream late at night.” A mischievous smile played across Cameo’s face.
Caprice flushed, remembering the conversation between them. Cameo confused her like no other person she’d met. It was impossible to decipher her moods. She was smiling now, but Caprice understood they could be at each other’s throats in minutes. Still, she liked her somehow. Glancing at the basin, she was grateful for the water, she just wished it were several degrees colder. “Thank you. I—”
“Gotta go, places to b
e, people to see. Plus, I don’t want to get bitch-slapped by a Glissante and a bowl of water. That’s why I made it nice and hot for you.”
“Won’t hold my breath for my food and water.” The Giant added from the next cell.
“You can if you want, but it might not be the smartest of moves. You two kids enjoy yourselves… while you can.” The last words were said over her shoulder as she muscled the door closed.
Chapter 20
‡
Trapped again! He wanted to slam his head against the wall. If he had been out most of the day, that meant the sixth day of captivity was only a few hours away. His brothers would be rounding up thousands of people, who must be panicked and sick to their stomachs at the thought of leaving. The trek across the Hamada was arduous. Arun worried for the young and the very old. Could they even carry the amount of water needed to make it across the baked and barren wasteland?
Where would they go? Their closest neighbor, hundreds of miles away, didn’t have the capacity to house the people of his kingdom. They were a few thousand strong. All of them would need food and shelter, especially from the unforgiving climate.
The idea of his people suffering made him want to hurt somebody. Maybe he’d start with the mouthy redhead. The memory of her voice making him lose all control was nothing compared to the moment he heard the fight between her and Caprice. That he didn’t have the ability to defend his princess in those few seconds ate at his soul.
Not protecting the woman who gave you the gift of the fervor was… He still couldn’t think about it without wanting to kill.
“Come over here. I’ll share some of this food with you.”
Glancing at Caprice, his throat got tight. Gods, her beauty was heart stopping. She sat daintily, her legs tucked to her side. She adjusted the dirty fall of her dress, completely unaware of how she affected him. He had started pacing, because he had to stave off the fervor. Being in such close quarters was going to drive him crazy if he didn’t get his mind off of her beauty, and her milky skin smudged with dirt, and her light green eyes…
“No.” His voice was gruffer than he would have liked.
A look of surprise crossed her face. “Do you think they tampered with it?” She paused, a thick piece of brown bread inches from her mouth.
“Nine hells! Should have thought of that. Damn.” He crossed the few inches that separated them, her scent bloomed and surrounded him with each breath of air. A familiar surge started in his belly. No, no, no. Not yet. He was sick of losing control! Sitting across from her, he reached for the bread. “Give me a bite of everything first. We’ll wait, and if it doesn’t kill me, I’d say it’s safe.”
She held the bread out of his reach. “You’re assuming it will be a fast acting poison. It might be hours before it takes effect.” He swore he saw a twinkle in her eye, but she didn’t smile. What would he have to do to make that happen?
Sighing, he closed his eyes briefly, not sure how to deal with her. “Give me the bread, Caprice.”
“I will, but I’m going to feed it to you. Lean closer.” The volume of her voice dropped, which made his eyes pop open. He was so tuned in to every shift of mood and intention. At the moment she looked expectant, but other than that, he couldn’t read her.
“Why?”
“Well, I’ve already touched it. My people know a lot about poison; maybe this one is activated by touch. I just want to keep you safe.”
Hesitant, he leaned forward. Who was he kidding? He couldn’t deny her. He just had to make sure she didn’t figure that out. But gods, he would give her anything. She placed the bread in his mouth, the tip of her fingers trailing lightly on his bottom lip.
“How does it taste?” she asked, a little breathless.
Chewing slowly, he couldn’t help but run his eyes over her face. The rain had washed away most of her makeup, leaving only black smudges under her eyes. Her lips were a deep shade of pink, and her skin appeared peaches and cream rather than snow white. Her hair was still in flyaway braids, flowing down her back. This clime was changing her, and for the better. Her dress was a mess, but it didn’t matter. He only thought of what lay underneath. “Beautiful.”
“The food?”
“No. You.” Shaking his head, trying to ignore light in her eyes, he looked up at the window. “It’s going to be pitch black in here soon. One more lost opportunity to use the Bicullis! We must escape in the morning, before sunrise. We have to be ready for anything.”
She looked down and bit her lip. “I’m not ready for any of this, but we will both do what we have to. Are you feeling on the brink of death yet or do you think I can have a bite?” Her lips lifted in the smallest of smiles. His heart stopped. A smile. A pink flush ran along her cheeks. “Besides, why would they poison us when the leader says she wants to see us tomorrow?”
Unable to take his eyes off of her, he said, “Who knows what motivates any of these bloodthirsty women.” He watched as she popped the bread into her mouth, then reached down and broke off a new piece from the loaf. When she leaned in, he took the food from her hand. His chest heaved as energy eddied in the pit of his stomach. But it was manageable… for now.
They finished the meal in silence and he savored the last rays of sun that danced along her skin. Leaning back, she looked satisfied and a little sleepy. Just as he imagined she would look after he had loved her so hard she couldn’t breath. A deep moan escaped as he imagined blanketing her, her legs wrapped around his hips as he pounded inside of her, going so deep…
A yelp snapped him out of his musing. She sat up quickly, her hand resting against her middle, a small frown pulling at her eyebrows. “Remind me not to sit in that position again. There is still glass left.”
“Where does it hurt?”
She shivered slightly and sighed. He swore he saw tears prick here eyes. “It’s the girdle. They layered the glass and then fitted me in. It’s… It’s all right.”
He wrapped his hands around the bars, fury blanketing him. He was too close to succumbing to the electricity flowing through him. “How could they have done that? How could they have hurt you? I swear to the gods I will kill them.” He rattled the bars, pouring his frustration into the metal.
She looked amazed, mouth slightly open, eyes glazed over. She tracked her eyes over his arms, his chest.
He swelled with desire, his cock pulsing with each glance of her eyes. He was desperate, so desperate to be inside of her.
“Which one are you?” she asked.
“What?” Sparks jumped from his skin, dancing around the nearly pitch-black room. He hardly noticed. All he saw was her.
“Your father wrote about you and your brothers often. You’ve already mentioned Brant. That leaves Fisk, Ives, and Arun.”
“Caprice…” His voice was a low grumble.
“You definitely don’t look like a Fisk.” She paused as if gauging his response. “So that leaves Ives… or…”
He groaned in anticipation, waiting for his name to pass her lips.
“I knew it! The moment I read it. Arun.” She drew out the name, caressing each syllable.
Smoke wafted from the bars clenched his hands. “Say it again. Need to hear it. Say it again.”
“Arun.”
His eyesight was gone. He was consumed.
Chapter 21
‡
“Your whole body is alight!” Sparks flew all around him. The white bled over his eyes, eating up the color. His hair rose and fell, but that was something she’d almost grown accustomed to. But now, his skin shimmered a beautiful golden-yellow; the shine strong enough that she could make out his outline, bright enough that she saw her hand in the inky black of night.
His hands gripped the bar, and she could see his neck muscles cording. Smoke started to billow above his palms, and the screech of bent metal filled the space. It was so loud she glanced at the door, convinced warrior women would come streaming through at any minute.
Dear gods. He had done it! With one last p
ull, the metal bars bent wide, and he turned sideways, trying to shove his massive shoulders through the tight space. Finally, he pushed through. His hands were fisted, his chest heaving, his head thrown back. The glow had given him an almost ethereal appearance. That softness combined with his sheer strength made her legs weak.
“Where are you?” he rasped.
“Here.” Yes. Come closer, please. Her body was primed. She felt her stomach drop as he took one step closer, then another. A languid heat filled her, a warmth one thousand times more powerful than this strange kingdom. It swirled in her chest, then traveled lower, softening her, making her wet with anticipation. Her body responded to the white of his eyes, the shifting of hair. It meant he wanted her, and she was ready.
“Caprice.” His voice sounded like a soft ache.
“Arun, I can see you. You’re skin, it glows. It’s golden, and it lights you from within.”
Groaning again—why, because she had used his name?—he paused, running both hands through his hair. “I-I think it’s changing. The energy becomes stronger each time we’re together. Wish I knew what it meant.” He turned, took a swing and punched a hole the size of a snow leopard through the stone.
“Because of me? Every time we connect?” The thought should have frightened her. Instead it made her wetter, her throbbing lips begging for attention. She did this to him, made him so out of control.
He wouldn’t step closer. “Every time I think of you, want you, to touch you, feel you… Gods, to be inside of you, riding between your silky thighs! I—” His skin hummed and glowed a fiercer yellow, then faded as he clenched his fists and doubled over.
His words… She soaked them up, desperate for more. “Is that what you want? What you want to do with me?”
“Yes. I would kill for it.”
