by Olivia March
“Let me kill him, Commander.”
The request came from Tohran, Helion’s tedious second in command. How a Keeper of the Forest had ever attained such a position, and such a reputation for brutality, Tolvein would never know. As almost all Keepers of the Forest possessed an artistic, gentle nature, Tohran’s propensity for carnage defied belief. And while Tolvein had zero desire to experience death at Tohran’s hands, it would be a swifter death than the princes would deliver.
“Ah, but that’s what he wants Tohran. Isn’t that right Tolvein? Surely you didn’t think such a clumsy attempt at provoking me would result in a quick death for you. After all you’ve done, you wouldn’t want to deprive your fellow Keepers of a chance to see you suffer for your crimes. But first…”
Tolvein never saw it coming. One moment Helion was at the other side of the tent and the next he was collapsing on the floor with a broken jaw. Through a haze of pain, he felt Helion hit him again, and again, bones snapping with every blow. He heard screaming, pained, anguished cries, but didn’t even realize that they were coming from him before he lost consciousness. His last thought before succumbing was of his mother. He apologized to her for his failure, then let go of his pain into the void.
* * * *
“You should have let us get in a turn,” Dare growled, staring down at the unconscious traitor.
“You will get a turn,” Helion replied, turning away from the shattered Keeper on the floor. “I had first right of vengeance for his attack on my mate. Nefarion gets second right.”
“When his mate is finally in the clear, Prince Nefarion will be coming to collect,” Kaedmon growled, his shadows a writhing mass around his body. How he wanted to snatch up their prey and inflict pain on the duplicitous creature on the floor. Only knowing that Helion’s retribution would be swift and vicious kept him in check.
“Nefarion may come and collect on the blood debt as soon as his mate is in the clear. I will have this offal healed and awaiting Nefarion’s pleasure. Tohran, if you would, put this trash in your tent for the nonce and call Nathal to see to him when he’s finished with Annabelle. And double the guard around this tent. If this scum had any accomplices, we’ll find out. But until we do, no one gets close to Mithrain unless they have my approval.”
“I didn’t…know…you cared so much…Commander,” came a weak voice from the far side of the tent. It stopped Helion in his tracks as he was leaving, and he immediately rushed to Mithrain’s bedside.
“Mithrain, you lucky bastard, you’re finally awake.”
“I am,” Mithrain replied, his storm-grey eyes hazy with pain and exhaustion, but still managing to show joy. “Tolvein…you got Tolvein Commander?”
“Yes Mithrain, we got him. He tried to come in tonight and finish you off, so I assume you know he was the one who attacked you?”
“Yes…I saw his face, that day of the battle. I thought he was there to fight with me, and I allowed him to cover my flank, but when my back was turned he stabbed me.”
“And he took you far away to hide your body Mithrain, but not far enough to elude Nefarion. But it shouldn’t have mattered, what Tolvein did should have killed you. Someone saved you, tended your wound. Do you know who? I would reward him if I can.”
“Not a him, Commander,” Mithrain said, his voice sounding stronger by the moment. “It was a woman. I was in and out of consciousness, but I remember her well. She was so small, but so strong. Her hair was like midnight, and her eyes the purest cerulean. She made a litter for me and dragged me to that small room you found me in before removing my armor. She cleaned my wound, and stitched it, then tended to me through fever and near death, never leaving my side.”
“There was no one there when Nefarion arrived,” Helion said gently, not wanting to distress Mithrain. He clearly was in awe of this woman and more than a little infatuated. “Did she give you a name? Perhaps we can put out feelers for her, ask the other Keeper camps to be on the lookout so we can reward her properly.”
“No…she never told me her name. She barely spoke at all, just occasionally muttered to herself. When I was conscious, I tried several times to talk to her, but when I did she would walk away. I couldn’t stop her while I was weak. But once I’m strong, I will go back and find her. And I won’t let her walk away again.”
Helion allowed himself a small smile at the resolute tone of Mithrain’s voice. He was interested in this woman. And if that interest sped his determination to heal and get back to one-hundred percent, then Helion was all for it. He doubted the woman would be found, but there was no need to belabor the point. Mithrain knew as well as all the other Keepers in the room that a woman alone on this planet was a ripe target for despicable human males and Scourge scum both. But they owed this mysterious woman a debt, and Helion would see her found and rewarded if possible.
“You had best focus on healing then, shouldn’t you? The longer this mystery woman is on her own, the more chance there is that she will never be found. Get well quickly, and I will assign you a team to go out and ascertain this woman’s whereabouts. You must be completely healed before I will authorize such a mission.”
“Mithrain nodded, and Helion was satisfied that his recovery would proceed rapidly. He knew all too well how a human woman could compel a male to do anything, be anything, to have her as his own. He hoped Mithrain made a full recovery and located his savior. It was only fitting that Mithrain be allowed to save her in return, and perhaps find happiness together, as he and Nefarion had found.
And with that in mind, his heart eased with Mithrain’s recovery and having the traitor in custody, Helion headed back to his tent. Nathal would inform him when Annabelle was in the clear. But until that time, his mate was waiting in their tent, anxiously awaiting news. It was his duty to distract her and ensure the health of both her and their son. His duty and his pleasure. And of course, her pleasure.
Chapter 22
Nefarion imagined that this is what hell felt like. Nathal and the other healers had exhausted themselves, but managed to keep his fragile mate alive through one of the most vicious poisonings they’d ever encountered. The traitor had not been pulling his punches here, that poison had been for ending Annabelle’s life, and it had very nearly succeeded. Several times he had needed to drag Annabelle back from the brink of death by sheer willpower alone. He’d cajoled, and threatened, and blackmailed, and yelled, whatever it took to keep her tethered to this world. Because without her in his life, living himself held no appeal.
Annabelle was on the mend now. Nathal had repeatedly assured him of this, but it still wasn’t something Nefarion could bring himself to believe. She was asleep, the pain finally gone, and he didn’t want to wake her. But the urge to see those sweet seafoam eyes looking into his was a compulsion he was hard-pressed to deny. Nathal had told him she needed to rest as long as her body desired, and to allow Annabelle to wake when she was ready. Nefarion wanted to kiss her awake right now, this moment, and hold her in his arms, feel the warmth of her skin against his and assure himself that his mate was alive and well. Real life was intruding, but he didn’t want to leave before she woke.
Helion had informed him that the traitor, Tolvein, was caught trying to finish his attack on Mithrain not long ago. First right of vengeance should have been his, but Helion had taken it for himself. The traitor had set Lady Gwen up to die by a surprise Scourge attack well before he’d attempted to murder Annabelle, so Nefarion had decided not to dispute. But the weasel’s days were numbered. Helion had assured him that the blood debt could be collected at any time once Nathal had healed the bastard. And Nefarion fully intended to collect. But not until Annabelle woke and showed him she was recovering, he wanted no distracting worrying over her when he was dealing with Tolvein.
Part of him recognized that worry would be his constant companion for the rest of his life when it came to Annabelle. He could accept that, it would keep him on his toes. He never wanted to take Annabelle’s safety and happiness for granted. H
e’d taken for granted that his mother was safe inside the walls of their palace, and for that arrogance she’d suffered untold cruelties. No such fate would befall his mate, not ever. He would always be mindful, always alert, for his mate and their children. If he ever failed, that would mean he was dead, and would wait for Annabelle on the other side to take up his duties again.
“Wake, beautiful Annabelle. Show me those eyes, let me see love still there even though I failed you. Let me make it up to you, for the rest of our lives I will dedicate my life to making you safe, and loved, and happy. Just open your eyes, and tell me you will still be mine.”
He kept his voice soft, but the intensity of his words must have reached his little mate. Her hand tightened on his, and her lashes fluttered. Nefarion held his breath, until finally, those beautiful green eyes opened and locked on him. Those eyes…they reminded him of the sea near his home, the light green foam that crested to the top with the crash of the waves. One day he would sit on the beach outside his palace with her, and they would watch those waves together. And he would lay her down on the sand and sink into her, the beautiful song of the sea in their ears as they made love again and again.
“Nefarion…I’m alive?” she asked, smiling.
“Yes, my love. It was touch and go, but in the end Nathal purged the poison before it could destroy your body. I will owe that healer a debt of gratitude for all my days. Without his talent in healing…well. We’d be having this conversation on the other side.”
“You said that…while I was sick. You said if I died, you’d follow me. I never want to hear you say that again Nefarion. You have so much to live for, so much to do with your life. Mourn me as you need to, but promise me you’ll live for me, not die for me.”
Annabelle was looking at him so earnestly, her expression troubled. Nefarion touched a gentle hand to the wrinkles on her forehead, and the downturn of her sweet lips. The soft feel of her skin beneath his hand soothed him, because it was radiating warmth, and life.
“Understand this, Annabelle; without you I have nothing. Keepers mate for life. While you live, there will be no one else for me. And if you die, nothing and no one else will appeal to me. I need you alive, or what would be the point of living myself? Death isn’t the end you know. When we die, there will be whole new worlds to explore. And we will explore those places together.”
“Together,” she repeated, a pledge. One he would hold her to for all their days.
“My plans for your luscious body are on hold, little one. I can wait, as long as you understand that you will be accosted as soon as Nathal gives you a clean bill of health. And I imagine it will take at least a week of nonstop lovemaking before we’re satisfied.”
Annabelle smiled at him, a distinctly salacious look coming into her bruised eyes.
“I will hold you now, until you sleep again. I have business with the traitor once you’re resting. I don’t want you to worry for me if you wake up alone. My men will be in position around the tent, and just in case, everything will be tasted before you consume anything.”
Annabelle nodded, and held her arms out to him. It was an offer of comfort that he accepted with alacrity, crawling into bed with her fully armored just to feel the full length of her body against his own. He relished every gentle stroke from her hands on his hair, and the soft puffs of air that dusted his neck. He stroked her back until exhaustion finally caught up with her again, and she drifted off to sleep.
For a while he continued to hold his mate, reluctant to leave her. She’d barely escaped death, for the second time in a little over a week. And this time she’d been under his protection, so her close brush with dying should never have happened. Nefarion briefly considered wrapping his treasure up in shadow armor and packing her off to Balruin. If he mated her and seeded her before he sent her to the palace, his father would reluctantly take her under his protection.
Truthfully though, he didn’t think he could send Annabelle away from him for however long it was going to take to wipe the Scourge from this planet. They made strides every day, killing thousands by thousands, but the Scourge had the tenacity of a colony of insects. There were always more and more pockets of them to exterminate. Until they could cut off the head, all the Scourge they killed were just damage control. And now they had the new element of the Scourge attack, taking human women and children hostage. It deviated from the normal Scourge battle plan, and was extremely worrisome.
Enough. He couldn’t put it off any longer. He called his men to alert via their link and gently eased himself out of the bed. He had a traitor to maim and torture, answers to find, and Scourge to kill. And in between he would coddle Annabelle back to full health, until she was once more fully restored and ready to be his mate in body as well as soul. Oh, the things he had planned for her once she was well again. Soon she would forget what it felt like when he wasn’t inside her.
As he walked out of the tent, he shed all that feeling and tenderness, packing it away until he was with his mate again. Tolvein would get the worst part of him, where Annabelle only got the best. As he walked to Tohran’s tent, two of his men falling into place beside him, he allowed all the rage he’d felt when he knew his mate has been poisoned to fire his thirst for revenge. He was a cold-blooded killer at heart, and Tolvein was about to get first-hand experience with that vicious part of him. He could feel the aggression in his men, Kaedmon and Dare, and welcomed the air of violence they projected. They took it personally that their future queen had been attacked on their watch, and in such a cowardly fashion.
They arrived at the tent quickly, and upon walking in were met with a cold-eyed, alert stare from Tolvein. It was abundantly clear that he felt zero remorse for trying to take the life of an innocent woman, not once but twice. Or, for that matter any remorse for backstabbing his fellow warrior in arms. The varied races of Keeper in Arthaneas might disagree with each other over different issues, but one thing brought them solidly together; Keepers stuck together when it came to protecting their world, protecting the innocents and the Keeper ways of life. Tolvein clearly didn’t absorb those lessons growing up.
“I hear your mate survived my little gift. It’s a pity really, but she may live to regret that. When the Scourge take over the planet and route the Keeper forces, she’ll wish she’d died, I assure you.”
Nefarion just stared for a moment, letting Tolvein see that his attempt to manipulate his emotions was not going to succeed.
“What utter rot you speak, traitor. The Scourge will never route us. They die in droves every day. Just as you will die, for your crimes. But not for a while…I have right to vengeance after all.”
With those words Nefarion allowed his shadows to bleed, writhing around his body, ready to obey his command. When faced with an enraged Shadow Keeper’s shadow mass, very few people had the courage to face the fate coming for them head on. Tolvein tried to look nonchalant for the space of a moment, before his face paled and he began to sweat.
“Before we begin, would you like to confess to a motive behind your crimes? It won’t stop you from being punished, but perhaps your death will come quicker, and with slightly more mercy.”
“Don’t promise him something I’m not willing to give, Prince of Shadows,” came Helion’s voice from behind Nefarion.
He walked into the tent, completely ignoring the shadows emitting from the three Keepers inside. Light Keepers didn’t have the same respect for shadows that the other races of Keepers did, damn them. Between the cold-eyed berserker rage and keen instincts of Light Keepers and the ruthless cunning and shadow-bending of Shadow Keepers, it was usually a toss-up over who would win in a fight. Even Nefarion didn’t know what the outcome would be if he fought in earnest with Helion. And now that they both had mates, neither would be trying to find out.
“This Keeper is guilty of treason, attacking his own comrade, and attempting to take the lives of two Keeper mates. He will suffer to his last breath. I’m giving you leeway to get the answers I want while
taking your right to vengeance for the attack on Annabelle. Get on with it.”
Nefarion curled his lip at Helion, letting him know how he felt about that autocratic demand. But instead of replying he sent out his shadows to swarm the traitor. Thousands of cuts blossomed all over Tolvein’s body, shallow ones and deep ones, cuts meant to cause terrible pain and weaken the victim by loss of blood. But not enough to kill. Tolvein tried not to scream, but in the end, he couldn’t help himself. When the shadows began pulling at his appendages, the clear intent to rip them off, Tolvein began to babble like the coward he was.
“Please, please stop, I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, just get these shadows off me!”
“I’ll consider recalling them, traitor. But first you will tell me why you attacked Mithrain. Why was he targeted?”
“Mithrain’s sensory ability was getting in my way. He sensed the surprise attack I planned for our first encampment, and that allowed Helion to call in reinforcements and route my troops. Please, the shadows…”
Nefarion let one shadow tendril choke Tolvein for a moment, relishing seeing the bastards face turn blue as he struggled to breathe. But in the end, he recalled the shadows to his body, for now. He wanted answers more than he wanted the pleasure of seeing Tolvein gasp for air.
“And the Commander’s wife? What reason did you have for trying to kill her that night?” Nefarion sensed Helion’s attention snap firmly into place then, where it had been wandering a bit during the torture. Helion’s people could mete out a good interrogation when they had to, but they didn’t enjoy it as much as Shadow Keepers did.
“It was her fault Mithrain sensed those troops. When she tried to escape the camp, Mithrain’s searching for her brought the advancing Scourge troops to Mithrain’s notice.” Tolvein was breathing hard still, his words a gurgling mumble thanks to the choking and all the blood leaking into his mouth.
