Eternal Damnation: A novel of the Amagarians

by Reid, Stacy

  Shilah frowned. “You are distressed.”

  “It cannot be avoided,” the soft resigned whisper came in her voice.

  “What cannot be avoided?”

  “One of you…. Either you or Lachlan Ravenswood has decided on a path. Until that decision is altered, the only future I see is your death and the slaughter of our people. I’ve seen several possible futures, and they all ended the same.”

  Shilah stilled. “You’ve unlocked another level of your powers?”

  “Yes. Three days ago.”

  Shock blasted through her. Three days? She had been ensconced in this chamber and in his bed for three days? “Oh Kala, why didn’t you call me?”

  “You were…busy.”

  Heat suffused Shilah’s entire body, and her sister’s soft laugh brushed against her senses.

  “Each time I tried to reach out I was met with a haze of lust that I quickly drew away from. I was entertained by the court, and King Gidon is very charming for a monster. I’ve been made to feel very welcomed.”

  The precise cause for a transition had not yet been identified, but it had been linked to specific scenarios, such as traumatic emotional experiences, abnormally stressful events, and some developments had occurred with age. However, the sources of a transition still varied among different individuals. The past few weeks could most definitely be described as emotionally traumatic, and abnormally stressful. So, the change from an Alpha to an Omega couldn’t have been easy for her sister. The power would have roiled through her, stretching Kala’s mind and body as it sought to accommodate its depth and essence. “Has your Omega symbol formed?”

  “Yes.”

  It was absolute then. Each ring of power manifested in a white translucent symbol on their right arm. It was only when an imperial level was attained their eyes changed and evolved. There was a part of Shilah that did not want to know the new outcomes of the foresight, but she girded her herself. “Have you any idea of the decision that was made?”

  “I see a monster. It is pure darkness with a rage I’ve never seen or felt. This monster decimated our kingdom because you…you were killed. No one was spared.”

  Her heart beat with such brutal force she feared fainting. “How did I die?”

  “I see you lying on a floor, your hair flowing around you, your suit soaked in blood, and your lifeless eyes staring at the wall.”

  Shilah made her way over to the bath, and lowered herself into the heated water, sighing as the warmth seeped into her muscles.

  “I think as Lachlan’s mate…I am very important to him, Kala. And the notion of it is scary. He hardly knows me. My death should mean nothing to him.” The very idea that she could mean so much to another was petrifying.

  “Only you had anchored it to the light, and with your death, its only purpose was slaughter.”

  “We will leave here together,” Shilah whispered, blinking away the burn of tears. “I’ve made a mess of everything. I shouldn’t have run, Kala. I should have stayed in Dxyriah, gathered my supporters, and demanded the Senate convene. I stupidly ran, and it has been over three months since we’ve left our home. Once you saw me on the throne, ruling with Prince Novar. That vision changed the instant I met Lachlan Ravenswood. I think it is also constant because I am with him. Once we leave the Darkage and Amagarie itself, perhaps the precognition will evolve once again.”

  Her sister remained silent, but she could feel her anxiety and doubts. And Shilah understood. It was almost impossible to alter the future a foreseer predicted. Though sometimes the visions were not interpreted in full, and the outcome could be far different than feared, the steps seen always came to pass.

  “How has King Gidon been treating you?”

  “With kindness.”

  Shilah paused in lathering the cleansing oil over her body. Was that fascination she’d detected in her sister’s tone. “Do you like the king?”

  “I find him…interesting.”

  “Be careful Kala, there is no one I trust in this kingdom.” Except for Lachlan Ravenswood.

  The hitch in her sister’s voice indicated she’d caught the edges of Shilah’s thought.

  “You be careful, sister,” Kala whispered and then closed their link.

  Quickly bathing, Shilah emerged from the bath and used the soft cloth she’d been accustomed to using to dry the wetness from her skin. In her world, a pulse of heat would emit in their bath chamber, and her skin would be dried in a second. She moved over to the chaise longue near the windows and picked up one of the garments clearly intended for her petite frame. She slipped into the dark green kaftan, appreciating the soft feel of the cloth. It hugged her upper body like a lover, then flared from her hips to her ankles in flaring chiffon and silk. She slipped her feet into matching slippers and hurried to the mirror. Using her telekinesis, she arranged her hair in a single plaited braid.

  A low growl in the room had her whirling around. Cronus seemed to peel from the wall itself and prowled toward her. Vicious canines lined his mouth, glistening white and sharp. She jerked wildly as the beast that was easily the same height as her approached. Shilah laughed when his massive ridgeback head carefully butted her shoulder. She swore she saw concern in the depth of its eerily blue eyes.

  “Were you in here, all this time you great beast,” she murmured, touching him tentatively. Shilah brushed her mind against his, unraveling the pathway that was constructed with less thread than peoples’. “I am well Cronus,” she murmured, rubbing his head, and smiling when he purred.

  The door opened, and Lachlan framed the doorway. She was immediately aware of him, every one of her senses springing to life. He was dressed in stark black with only a white shirt to lighten the overall impression of darkness. Every part of her body ached, hurting for his touch. She dropped her hand abruptly from Cronus’ head and stood, confused at her reactions to Lachlan.

  “Lachlan Ravenswood, hello,” she said softly, a dangerous thrill bursting in her heart.

  “Shilah Symonrah, hello.” His enigmatic smile was fleeting, but she could feel every nuance of his stare as it skimmed across her features.

  He walked over to her, gripped her chin, and lifted her face to his. His eyes searched her expression for the longest time. Then he leaned in and took her mouth with his in a long, slow, incredibly tender kiss. And in it, she felt the apology and sensed the fear he had been too rough with her throughout their time of loving.

  “Are you well, Shilah?”

  She peered up at him and almost against her will a smile softened her mouth. “You did not hurt me.”

  She felt the burn of relief along their link and wondered at it. He took her lower lip between his teeth and bit down gently, teasing her lips to part with soft nibbles and hot, urgent kisses. “Are you certain?”

  “Yes.” Her stomach grumbled alarmingly. She only recalled eating food once but consuming his blood at least three times.

  “Were we really in here for three days?”

  “Yes.”

  And through their link, she saw him as he held her sleeping form cradled against his chest for hours. Then when she roused he would take her repeatedly. Then the same rest and frenzied loving would repeat.

  His eyes darkened as the memories flowed through them, lust flavored the air, and inexplicable heat speared down to the valley between her thighs. Shilah smiled, truly amazed she could feel the stirrings of sensual need so soon. “I am dreadfully hungry.”

  And with a burst of shadows, she appeared in a large dining hall, a table laden with savory meats, fruits, and wine. Dozens of great torches lit the room, and she appreciated that his castle was a beautiful and elegant one. Beautiful tapestries graced the stone walls, their color magnificent, and the cloth rich and vibrant, unlike anything she had ever seen. Her home was just as beautiful but different with every graceful line shaped in cold steel and crystal glass. It did not feel warm and comforting as this castle.

  “Eat.” A soft command in her mind—tender, intimate.
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  Shilah glanced around the empty hall, then back at him. “Are we to be joined by others?”

  “No.”

  She lowered herself and ate her fill, painfully aware he watched every bite, every swallow, and hum of greedy pleasure she made as each unique flavor and spice burst on her tongue. “Will you not join me?”

  “No.”

  Shilah barely prevented the need to roll her eyes. The realization of how little she knew him filled her with an odd sense of discomfort. She had spent the several nights in his bed, his body connected to hers, driving her to heights of pleasure and she did not know what he dreamt of, what he despaired. She only knew that over the centuries, the other kingdoms had failed to recognize Darkans as people, instead seeing them only as monsters, demons, or mindless beasts worthy of fear and disdain. In her opinion, it was the Empire they needed to fear.

  Lachlan was a ruthless warrior who did not hesitate to kill when he deemed it necessary, and he was an incredible lover. But surely there was more to the man silently watching her on the chair.

  When she’d had her fill, and cleaned her hands, Shilah stood and faced him.

  He held out his hand to her. “Come with me mate.”

  “Where?”

  “I want to show you your army.”

  A million birds took flight in her stomach, and insidious temptation slid through her veins. Shilah placed her hands in his, he took her in the Shadow space, and within a few seconds, she was in a large courtyard overlooking hundreds of training warriors in some sort of stone paved battle arena. No battle cries rung, or pants of exhaustion or even effort. Their silence was eerie as they flowed in a fighting style that seemed ageless and almost beautiful in the brutality of the moves it displayed.

  She walked to the top of the steps watching the warriors below. The courtyard was lit with hundreds of great torches, and at the edge of the courtyard magnificent stone sculptures of massive monsters—wolves, lyons, dragons, snakes, chimeras, hydras—frozen in eternal combat surrounded the ring in which they trained. Beyond them, massive trees rose as if towering to the heavens, and through the tree lines, she spied rows upon rows of elegantly large stone dwellings with bricked roofs.

  It took Shilah several seconds to realize her vision in the dark was perfect. Shock tore through her.

  Heat stirred through her mind. “What is it?”

  Her lungs felt a little as if they couldn’t quite get enough air. “I…I can see as if the land was under the sun. I can see for miles beyond the hills and the houses sprawled below, I can hear the flapping of a bird too far for me to hear, and I can feel the insects crawling through the earth. My senses have transformed.”

  Her heart was a painful thud, and he seemed undisturbed by her revelation. With her enhanced eyes, the dark appeared to her like the blue-grey skies after the passage of a winter storm, like silver moonlight with bursts of vibrant color of life at its center.

  She stepped to him and laced her fingers through his. “I do not think this is a new development in my telepathic abilities. I can feel this energy in me…and it is very different from what I am used to. Do you know Lachlan Ravenswood what is happening?”

  He tilted his head, regarding her steadily. An image flowered in her mind, of her licking Lachlan’s blood, of being pleasured on his cock over and over while she sucked his neck. The change had begun then she realized, and she had been too enraptured to be alarmed. And now it metamorphosed, a dark wave of energy pulsing through her, her eyes sharpening, as images more than several miles out appeared as if they were before her. Shilah felt the strength in her bones, heard the winged creatures zipping through the sky hundreds of miles away. “Your blood has changed me.”

  She almost laughed at the beautiful, cruel irony. How could she disguise from her people that she was different?

  “Will there be a physical manifestation of the changes your blood has caused?”

  “There is a possibility. You will become faster, possibly stronger. A tail and two horns on your forehead. There should be no other outwardly changes.”

  “What?!” She snapped her head around to look at his face where amusement glowed in his eyes. “Now is not the time to jest, Lachlan Ravenswood.” But she couldn’t help the smile that curved her lips.

  “I do jest, but only partially, speed and physical strength are known to develop with cases like ours.”

  She was suddenly terrified by a thousand different feelings and sensations assaulting her. He tugged her closer, his scent filling her lungs and calming the wash of terror. He gripped her chin and lifted her gaze to his. His eyes, despite reflecting his beast, were so beautiful they made her heart clench. “I feel scared, yet I am not sure why.” The emotions had risen, harsh and intense.

  “You are my mate. All of me belongs to you, and I would never allow anything to harm you.”

  That outrageous, inexplicable desire filled her once more. She wanted to be his sanity. His pleasure. His mate. His everything. And that desire petrified her to her soul. “There is a part of me that hungers to be all that you desire,” she murmured.

  Primal pleasure flickered in the golden depth of his eyes. His thumb slid over the sensitive skin of her inner wrist. “What is an impure genesis?”

  Shilah stiffened, feeling his dark stillness in her mind. He had been there like a shadow, and she hadn’t felt it. Or was it that he was becoming such an intrinsic part of her, having him in her mind no longer felt like an intrusion. There was a sharp snap along their thread as if something had been realigned.

  A curious stare assessed every nuance of her expression. “I heard the condemnation of yourself in your thoughts.”

  And he did not like it. The warmth that filled her was unfamiliar with how sweet and achy the sensations were, but she welcomed it instead of shying away. “In my world, I am considered an Impure. I am an impure-genesis because I possess both telepathic and telekinesis powers.”

  His eyes were filled with grim darkness. “The more powerful you are, the more celebrated you should be.”

  How much his uncompromising statement revealed about the man before her, and the world he had been bred to. “Not in my realm. A man’s character is revealed by the level of his power. We believe absolute power corrupts and withers the soul, and such raw power must never be allowed to flourish in our lands again.”

  He pulled her into his arms, his chin atop her head, his hand around her waist as they faced the unnervingly silent training warriors, who synchronously shifted with speed from one fighting stance to the next with brief pauses in between. Each fluid motion was precise and beautiful. She could see the power vibrate into the air as they adapted each stance, indicating the force of the blow to their invisible opponent.

  She glided her fingertip over the roped muscles of the forearm wrapped around her midriff. “Serange had once been a mighty empire where the control of multiple geneses was lauded. From that regime emerged a leader who was a Na’Vita—a being that controlled all the geneses. He was a force no one could reckon with, a law onto himself with Imperial telepathy, teleportation, and Omega level telekinesis and foresight. The power of his mind was so vast, his hunger for knowledge and dominion grew in terrifying leaps, breeding in his heart a violent conquest of Serange and other realms.”

  A sharp gust of wind rolled over the mountains, twisting the dress of her caftan about her legs.

  “A rebellion occurred, war was waged. Our world was wrapped in chaos, our people on the edge of starvation, and it had little development in the way of advanced technology and medical care. The unrest after the rebellion was so great, the cry for a division of the powers was a thundering roar that cracked the fabric of our society and reshaped it. The leaders decided that one person should never hold such power again. New orders and laws were formed, and Serange split into three Kingdoms—Dxyriah, Arcadia, and O’andor. Families and friends were divided as people with similar capabilities were designated to live in different areas, and laws were enacted to prohibit
the geneses from cross-breeding. That was over two thousand years ago. It is extremely rare for anyone to have more than one genesis since those laws, Over the years any citizen to display more than one ability was branded impure and illegal.”

  Apprehension tightened low in her stomach. “Almost one in every generation. There is a birth that is wrong. And the absolute law of our planet is the bloodlines must remain pure. I am an Impure, and I’ve hidden the knowledge from my family and kingdom for years. It was my secret, and I despaired anyone ever uncovering it. But with the slaughter of my brother and his heirs, I am the oldest Symonrah and the next in line to rule.”

  “What are the consequences should you be uncovered?”

  She remained motionless for several moments. “If the Senate knew I would have been taken to the medical unit and my ability to have children taken from me. I am also required to never have sex with another or marry,” she whispered. “I either submit to the law or choose exile.”

  He stirred in her mind, absorbing the memories of how she had cried when she discovered her flaw, and how she had battled with her honor and duty to the law. She’d wanted a family of her own and had struggled to accept the solitary existence that stretched before her. If she’d procreated knowing of her multi-genesis inheritance, the punishment was death. For such actions threatened the peace and enrichment which thousands of Serangites had given their lives for during the rebellion. The purist ideology was so entrenched, the fear of history repeating itself, even with sterilization, no impure could ever take a life partner. Her wits and intelligence, beauty, wealth, and strength would not matter, only that she had the capability of tainting the bloodlines.

  “You sacrifice much for your people.”

  A shuddering breath escaped her. “I agree with the law.”

  “I feel that you do.”

  Her throat went tight. “I have always known the day would come I would have to reveal my status. Kala would then ascend, but she is so young and untutored. I promised her to keep silent until she is better prepared to rule. If Kala would have her wish, I would never reveal myself. I have already committed treason by not self-reporting the minute I discovered my second genesis.”