by Reid, Stacy
Princess Saieke glanced at her mate, horror dawning on her face. “Is that what I think it is?” she murmured, swaying slightly.
Drac hugged her tighter, pulling her into the protective cage of his arms.
The sound came again, a trumpet blast that echoed in the air for unending minutes, rolling over the seven kingdoms. It was the promise of slaughter and mayhem. A death knell for the weaker nations. A sound of retribution to those who had wronged its greatness.
The Empire of Mevia had declared war.
13
Eyes the color of liquid mercury swirled with rage and power as Gidon overlooked the wild darkness of the land. “Something has pushed Emperor Khan to declare war before any nation anticipated. There has been no indication he would be moved to this. What has changed?”
“I must return to Boreas immediately,” Princess Saieke said, pushing back her mass of red hair from her face with trembling hands. “The last Great War almost decimated my kingdom. They…we are not prepared for another war so soon.”
Her whisper was dread-filled and echoed with fury.
“The kingdom of winds and mountains has an alliance with The Darkage, princess,” Gidon said. “Your people will not suffer the same fate.”
Denial and pain suffused her beautiful features. “But they will suffer. Thousands will suffer and die. The seven kingdoms have been at peace for years. Why is he doing this?”
“If anyone should have declared war it should have been King Ajali of Nuria for yesterday’s attack on his kingdom. What madness has taken hold of Emperor Khan?” Gidon growled, pacing like a caged beast.
“He has lost a key piece in his plot and machinations,” Lachlan said with more calm than he felt, for fury churned in his gut at the threat to his mate.
Everyone stilled, and the floor of the high turret contracted at the wash of power swarmed the air.
“Speak,” Gidon commanded.
As if she had been summoned by his king’s will, the sweet flavor of earth and rain filled Lachlan’s senses. He scented her, and she made no sound as she drew closer. Shilah stepped through the wide terraced window. Everyone on the high balcony stilled, and she hesitated in the face of so many Darkans staring at her.
She made a breath-taking picture in a dark green sari which bared her stomach and hung alluringly low on her rounded hips. Golden slippers encased delicate feet, and her mass of silver-white hair was piled atop her head. Wisps of hair escaped her topknot and framed her lovely features.
His snakes were curled around her upper arms like golden bracelets. She held his gaze, her eyes huge and heart-stoppingly vulnerable. There was a fear in her that he would never let her go, and she would be unable to escape and save her people. He was a dark shadow in her mind, and all negative thoughts rushed along their link, even though she tried to shut him out.
The sparkly depths of her eyes were reflecting so many emotions they took his breath and broke apart something unfathomable inside Lachlan. There was a primal, turbulent need in him to ravish his mate so thoroughly and so completely that she would never hunger to leave his side. He wanted her bound to him for all eternity
There have only been two laws identified which have any impact on a beast’s behavior, and they both pertained to mating. The first law is that the demon mates for life. The second law not recorded anywhere and kept secret by all Darkans, a mate cannot be claimed without their consent. Everything in Lachlan could clamor to bind her to him forever, but if she did not accept his claim, he could not force her. Until she allowed the mating, he had no rights to cage her to his will, and even then, Lachlan knew she would fight any claiming that might override her sense of self. And he didn’t want that. Her beauty was fragile, and she didn’t have the physical prowess of Darkans or even Amagarians, but she had the heart of a warrior. Even if it was mystifyingly weakened by mercy and compassion.
The darkness in him stirred, and violence sang through his blood at the notion of losing her. There would be no light left within him, no reason to feel the warmth tumbling through his chest now, no reason to feel the desperate need to be different…to be gentle.
“And who is this?” Talon murmured, glancing from her to Lachlan.
He felt her mind search; it brushed at him like the wings of a delicate creature. “I heard the sound of a gong. The walls of your chamber shook, and I felt along the thread that connected us that you were close, so I followed it…to here.”
Lachlan knew no one else saw the silver thread that connected their souls. He could reach out a finger and run along the bright silvery white thread with the darkness twisting sinuously over it. The thread led from his chest to hers, and it hummed, a vibration of peace and pleasure as she moved a bit closer to him.
His mate paused, shy a few feet from him, and glanced at his cadre of friends who did not disguise their unabashed curiosity.
“This is Princess Shilah. And it is for her the Empire has declared war.”
Stillness blanketed everyone on the turret, and Lachlan dared not move.
“Why is she valuable to him?” his king demanded, the coldness emanating from him causing Lachlan’s mate to shiver and pale.
“She is Princess Shilah of the house of Symonrah, rightful ruler of the kingdom of Dxyriah of Serange. She is an Imperial telepath with the power to demolish the psychic barrier between man and beast in Darkans. Not only is she able to shatter that barrier, but she is also half of the power needed to force the demon from its host into a corporeal form and place it under the control of the Empire of Mevia. Retrieving her will be the focus of the empire, and only death will come for those who think to hide her from the Empire’s might.”
His mate paled and stumbled back, bitter fear leaking from her. Pain and betrayal rode the wave, and she stared at him with widened eyes.
“What you claim is impossible,” Talon snapped, scrubbing a hand over his face. “The kingmaker has promised a new leader for the Darkage, and that bastard is plotting with the empire to murder Gidon. And for what? So that he can torture our people for the power within us?”
“If the Emperor had Darkans in his army, whom he had absolute control of, his might would be unmatched,” Drac said, his gaze hard and piercing on Princess Shilah, whose anxiety was like a living entity as she fed them with her fear. “I surmise my friend; the princess is the reason you and your demon has merged in a way I’ve never seen in our kingdom. She broke your vow and your mind at the order of the emperor.”
Retribution throbbed in his friend’s voice, and Shilah stepped back a few paces.
“Princess Shilah and the witch Amirah are the ones who directed and pulled the demon beasts that attacked the Kingdom of Nuria from its host.”
The shocked silence was profound.
“Why is she alive?” Drac asked with palpable menace.
Princess Saieke gasped, and Lachlan felt the promise of death leaking from Gidon. His king’s eyes were those of a predator waiting, watching, promising retaliation. He had judged Shilah, found her guilty, and her death was imminent.
Lachlan held out his hand to her. Her mouth trembled as she hurried over to his side, and she placed her hand in his. He carefully gathered his mate in his arms, barely holding onto the rage beating through his soul. It was unexpected and even unsettling, this desire to be gentle with her. She stirred, and he glanced down. How pale she seemed. His princess was so small and delicate, so curved and soft. She was light to his darkness, compassion to his merciless nature. Yet so powerful in her own right.
He breathed in her fragrance, absorbing the feel of her petite, curvy body against him. Nothing had ever felt so right to Lachlan. Despite her light and purity tethering him, violence blossomed through him and his monster twisted across his skin, its eyes snapping open. “Anyone who tries to harm her will only know pain and suffering,” he said, his voice hissing with feral undercurrents.
She tightened her fingers around his. He could hear her heart, the rhythm too loud.
“By t
he laws of the Darkage, I claim Shilah Symonrah as my mate,” he said, his voice low, but the tone one of absolute authority and the darkest of promise. “My life, my honor, my fidelity, my rage and my all belongs to her for eternity. A threat to her is a declaration of war. And I will answer the call of the empire and anyone who wishes to harm her with a message of my own—death and suffering which has never been endured.”
* * *
With a sense of shock and fear, Shilah realized that Lachlan’s loyalty was utterly hers and belonged to no one else. “Lachlan.” Spoken along their unique pathway, his name came out so husky, her voice shaking. In that instant, she accepted Lachlan would kill his king if he were a threat to her. Her heart denied such a betrayal, yet her soul rejoiced. She could hear the steady rhythm of his heart, a reassuring beat. The warrior behind her was not frightened at the danger that suddenly rode the air at his brutal, unshakable promise. She stared at him, unable to prevent herself from moving closer to his heat. The king watched them, his silver eyes cold and cunning, entirely at odds with the small smile of amusement about his mouth. The hair on her arms stood up, and a frisson of fear slid down her spine.
A shadow shifted from the corner of the balcony, and a man stepped into the light, a ravishing red-haired female by his side. Shilah blinked, her eyes darting to the cruelly sensual lips of the man and the black mark on his pale cheek which looked like a claw, finally accepting that all Darkans were handsome and downright terrifying.
“But not as handsome as me.”
Shilah glanced up at Lachlan, disbelief pounding through her. “Are you making a jest…at this moment, Lachlan Ravenswood?”
“He is Drac El Kyn. My friend. They are all my friends.”
His voice moved in her mind—soft, tender even. So at odds with the harsh brutality of his handsome features. She could feel no amusement, the buzz of raw power about her slapped at her skin like a thousand knives. Their lives were in danger and from the very people he called friends. The malevolence in the air, shifted like a tide, pouring over her skin and sinking into the cervices of her soul.
She was unprepared for the feeling of his gentle fingers stroking her skin.
“If anyone thinks to harm her, my retribution will be etched in the history of the seven kingdoms,” he said, his voice a terrible iciness with its complete lack of feeling.
Talon let out his breath in a long, slow hiss. “They will come for her,” he murmured, observing him. “They will not stop until she is back at the Empire.”
“Let them come. Examples must be made.”
Shilah felt as if he’d wrapped her in a protective cloak of violence. A threat to her would be suppressed mercilessly. Shilah did not like the fear that lingered within her. She did not know him or understand his world and the brutal code he lived by. A deep terror stayed inside that if she allowed herself too close to this man, that chill of violence and rage would entwine around her soul, and that would be the sure way to unfold her sister’s prophecy.
Queen of darkness you shall become.
Lachlan was there instantly, flooding her mind with warmth and reassurance, feelings that must be strange to him, but here he was providing them for her. Unable to help herself she peered up at him, sinking into the promise she saw in his eyes, wanting to desperately return it. The madness of it did not escape her, but she hungered to be what he wanted even if for a moment in time. His mate. Even though she did not understand its full implication.
Somehow it felt important, more important than any love she’d ever dreamed. But a connection she’d always desired. The only thing she was absolutely certain of was that it promised passion in his arms and a reprieve from the duty that sat upon her shoulders always tormenting her with doubts and fears of ever saving her people. A reprieve from the knowledge that as an Impure it was against the laws of her land to ever marry and have children. She envisioned a lifetime of loneliness. The weight of it would crush her if she gave into the feelings. The promised pleasure was something she hungered to taste, but the man currently present was so different from the one she’d had her brief encounter within Mevia.
His slow smile made her tremble, and her sigh of need and acceptance vibrated on the air as his mouth descended to take possession of hers. It was a brand. One that seared her insides with molten heat. It truly was frightening how she reacted to him.
Before she could fully respond, he lifted his head and faced his friends. “I present my lekia—my mate.”
She waited for a heartbeat until her pulse settled, then stepped forward and dipped into a brief curtsy. “It is good to meet you all,” she said meeting their gazes with an arrogant tilt of her head. She was the princess of Dxyriah and the mate of Lachlan Ravenswood, she would not cower.
The red-haired female was the only one to offer her a warm smile, and then they bowed, and Shilah was almost charmed by their elegant synchronicity. The king stepped forward, his measure of her chilling. A kiss of danger whispered across the back of her neck, a faint disturbing prickle as if talons and claws scraped against her skin. She lifted her chin. “King Gidon Al Shar, I am deeply regretful I allowed my desperation to obscure my honor. In doing so, I dishonored the sense of justice my parents instilled in me, and I hurt people who were under your protection. I offer you reparations.”
“Recompense will be paid,” the king said.
“And I shall pay it,” Lachlan said.
“As her mate, it is your right,” Gidon murmured, assessing her closely.
Shilah could not imagine what they could demand of Lachlan, but the need to protect him burned in her veins, dominating all else. “I am responsible for my actions, and I would be the worst sort of…of…mate to allow this man to suffer for my failures. I made a decision, it has consequences, and I will pay the debt demanded by your nation with honor.”
A growl rumbled from Lachlan and amusement glinted in the king’s eyes.
“I do not require flesh and blood Princess Shilah, merely a trading alliance with your kingdom. Serange is notorious for being stingy with their trading borders, and none of the seven kingdoms can trade within your walls or enter your portals. The gatekeepers are reputed to be merciless in defending your world.”
She curtsied, shocked at his courteous and forgiving nature. “It would be my honor to broker talks of trade between our realms when I reclaim my kingdom.”
Dark Amusement flowered in her mind from Lachlan. “King Gidon is not forgiving, he is cunning and manipulative. Our mates are treasured more than our lives. He would not do anything to hurt you.”
The king nodded, admiration swirling in those silver orbs.
Lachlan’s incredible heat flushed against her back and she leaned into him, uncaring if it made her seem weak.
“I take leave with my mate. I will call upon the Western Keep tomorrow,” he drawled.
“Stay,” Gidon commanded. “Drac and his mate, and Talon and his mate intend to stay for dinner. I invite you and Princess Shilah to do the same. The war council will need to convene, and your presence is needed.”
Shilah smiled tentatively. “We would be honored—”
“We leave for the Eastern keep now,” Lachlan said, his tone rough, sensual, and possessive.
“Why?” Talon asked with an arch of his brow. “My mate has wanted to speak with you, and it has been weeks since we’ve all dined together.”
She felt Lachlan stare at the top of her head and she glanced up at him. Lust blasted from him and raked against her senses, and her eyes widened. With a gasp, she snapped her gaze forward to his friends. A blush engulfed her body for she suspected they knew Lachlan’s intention.
Her heart thundered, and with trembling hands, she pushed a tendril of her hair behind her ear. He planned to ravish her once he took her away. She was not ready, Shilah doubted she would ever be prepared to take a lover as brutal and uncompromising as the man behind her. Without warning, shadows swallowed her, and she was gathered into his arms. She wrapped her legs high aroun
d his waist, hooked them behind his back, gripped his shoulders, burying her face into the warmth of his neck as they moved with unparalleled speed.
“War has just been declared, Lachlan Ravenswood. Should you not be meeting with your king and rallying your warriors,” she said desperately.
“Armies do not march on the first call to war, my mate. Kingdoms will begin assessing their strengths and weaknesses, securing their borders, and collecting intelligence about the enemies in preparation for the upcoming battles. Alliances will be formed, possible Allegiances— joint heirship of kingdoms by two rulers marrying, for the most powerful will win the war that is fated to tear the seven kingdoms apart.
“This is because I ran, I—”
“War has been trembling on the air long before you arrived on Amagarie. This call now by Mevia is a show of force by the empire to frighten those who harbor you for their might is great. Their population is almost three hundred million citizens, and they have an alliance with Avindar—the kingdom of lightning, and that kingdom has over two hundred million. The Darkage in comparison only holds fourteen million people, Boreas one hundred fifty-two million, Aria one hundred and ten. The size of Caelum is currently unknown for their kingdom is under the vast oceans of Amagarie. As of such the empire army is greater than all the six kingdoms’ combined forces.”
Shock and sorrow tore through her. “I am so sorry,” she whispered.
“You will not apologize again, mate. The Empire has no right to you, and I will protect you,” the menace in his voice echoing once again with unfathomable power.
Sudden fear tore through her for him. “Once I leave the Empire will cease hunting me.”
He made no reply, and with a sense of profound shock, she caught the edge of his thought that resolved he would never let her go.
