by Olivia March
“Surely you know Mithrain would have sensed them anyway, fool. He scans the entire surround of the camp at least once an hour.” Helion’s voice whipped from the corner, his tone so cold it could freeze water in the tropics.
“I had planned to incapacitate him before the troops got close enough to sense. But when he heard your mate had disappeared, the entire camp was up in arms and alert, and I couldn’t get to him. It was her fault my troops weren’t able to take the camp unawares. She ruined everything when she decided to play coy and make Helion chase her like a dog in heat.”
Nefarion hadn’t expected to find anything amusing about this interrogation, but the idea of Helion being “in heat” almost cracked an involuntary grin on his face. It was funnier because it was true. He’d wager that before Gwen, Helion had never had to actively pursue a female in his entire life, much like Nefarion hadn’t. That was an unfortunate side effect of being royal, women tended to fall into their beds with little to no effort on the part of the prince. These human women were more of a challenge, in all the best ways.
“You keep calling the Scourge your troops. So, what I want to know now is why. Why would you turn your back on your people like this? Why would you betray us, and seek the deaths of innocent women? No Keeper male would betray his people. No Keeper male would harm women. You are an aberration that must be explained.”
There was silence in the tent for a moment after Helion voiced this question. Tolvein didn’t answer at first, the harsh rasp of his labored breathing the only sound in the room. Nefarion was about to send his shadows forth again to apply some pressure, but before he could, Tolvein finally lifted his head again.
“No Keeper male…but I’m not a Keeper male, Helion. Blind prince of a worthless house. Oh, I look like a Keeper, don’t I? I blended in just fine into the ranks of your soldiers with my phony credentials and Keeper good looks. But my soul…my soul is Scourge. I am a creature of both worlds, don’t you see?”
Tolvein’s eyes were lit with a sort of madness that everyone in the tent could readily identify. But his words were wrong. The Scourge liked to kidnap able-bodied males from the planets they attacked, to convert them as soldiers in the Scourge war machine. But the conversion process was so traumatic that what came out of it was no longer even remotely similar to what the male had been before. They became just one more gray-skinned, soul dead abomination like all the others. Tolvein was clearly not a converted Scourge soldier. He looked just like any other Keeper in camp, not like a monster.
“You babble, traitor,” Nefarion hissed, moving closer. “You are no Scourge convert. No one survives the conversion process looking the way they were before it. Tell the truth, or I will make you suffer.”
“I will tell you nothing more, fool. You’ll understand one day, when it’s too late to save yourselves. When it’s too late to save the women you love, the planet you serve, and the people you protect. Keepers will suffer as no other race has suffered under Scourge dominance. I wish I could have lived to see the day when the arrogant races of Keepers were brought down to their knees. But just knowing that I had a small role to play in your destruction will have to be enough.”
Helion and Nefarion looked to each other and communicated in the link about what the traitor was trying to tell them. And they were so focused on each other that they didn’t notice that Tolvein has loosened his bonds. They turned back to the room when they heard Nefarion’s men cry out, but Tolvein wasn’t attacking them. His bloodied arms just reached up, quickly uncorked a vial that had been hidden in a sleeve, and dumped the contents into his open mouth.
Within moments Tolvein began convulsing, his eyes rolling back in his head. Nefarion called Nathal to attend to them, but he knew the healer wouldn’t be able to assist. Annabelle had hung on by a thread with a much more diluted dose than what Tolvein had just consumed. And she had been actively fighting to save her own life. Tolvein wanted to escape his interrogation and execution in a death of his own choosing. Nefarion was happy the bastard was dying in a painful, appropriate manner. He just wished they’d been able to understand Tolvein’s strange words about having the soul of a Scourge before the coward had taken his own life.
“Nathal, I don’t think even your superior skills will save this one. He ingested a large, concentrated dosage of the poison that nearly killed Nefarion’s mate. When he dies though, take him to your tent and run some scans. Tolvein was babbling about having the ‘soul of a Scourge.’ I would know if that was a poetic liberty or something more sinister. Nefarion, I need to go brief High Commander Bron with the current situation, and I’d like you to accompany me.”
Nefarion opened his mouth to object, but Helion didn’t wait around for it. He just walked out the door, headed to the portal. Nefarion debated just ignoring the order, he wanted to go bathe the stink of traitor off his skin and crawl into bed with his mate. But in the end, he followed Helion and ordered his men back to his tent to watch over Annabelle. The sooner they got the report to High Commander Bron out of the way, the sooner he could come back. He had plans with his mate. Regrettably innocent plans, but any time he had with his mate was well-spent, no matter what they did.
Chapter 23
“His heart is Scourge…” High Commander Bron muttered to himself, getting up from his massive desk to pace under a nearby tree. His blue-black hair swayed with his measured strides, and his mercurial eyes were hard and cold.
“Healer Nathal is performing an autopsy as we speak, to check for any irregularities. But the way Tolvein described himself is alarming. It made me wonder if maybe humans aren’t the first species that have proven to be breeding compatible with Keepers.” Helion was hoping to hear a denial immediately spring from the High Commander’s mouth, but what he got was a grim stare.
“I want to deny even the possibility of such, but the truth is, there were many Keeper females that disappeared after the Scourge attacked Arthaneas. Those females were assumed dead, just based on the normal behavior patterns we’ve observed on Scourge attacks. But if they weren’t killed, if they were taken captive instead, then perhaps…perhaps…” Bron stopped as though unable to utter the words. So Helion finished the thought for him.
“Then perhaps all this time, when we’ve been chipping away at the Scourge armies, our females have been trapped on those ships. Perhaps they’ve been used as breeders for a new race of Scourge.” Helion exchanged a look with Nefarion, feeling agitated and bloodthirsty.
“Yes,” Bron replied, his voice grim. “And if they can cross-breed with us, and we can also cross-breed with humans, then maybe that would explain why the Scourge have changed tactics here on Earth and are now taking female captives.”
“Gwen...” Helion said, dawning realization in his voice. “The traitor must have told his masters that I was able to get a child on Gwen. Those Scourge scum now think they can cross-breed with humans as well.”
There was silence in the tent as all three Keepers took in the ramifications of this. Not only that human women were now being taken for the purpose of breeding, but that Keeper females had already been in use in that capacity for the last fifty years. And if Helion’s mating with Gwen was the reason the Scourge were now taking human females captive, then his conscience would not allow him to rest until he made amends. Not for taking Gwen as his mate, he would never regret that, nor that his son now rested inside her. But for not realizing there was a traitor in his camp, and not protecting those refugee camps from attack, he had much to atone for.
“We need to get on those damn Scourge ships,” Nefarion said, his voice a brutal clip.
“Gating inside them is too risky,” Bron said, pacing again. “We will need to call in our allies. For campaigns on the planet surface all we needed was our own men. But to get up to those ships and attack them in their home territory, we need the mages. And the shifters too. We can assign shifters to aid us in guarding the refugee camps, and the mages can get us on those ships to look for survivors.”
“T
he mage kind and shifter kind are our allies, High Commander Bron, but they are not our friends. They will expect some form of payment for their assistance with this. What will you offer?”
“It will be less about making an offer than accepting one,” Bron replied, a grim twist to his lips. “I will simply ask them what they want and negotiate them down from there. Time is of the essence however, so we will perhaps have to be more generous than we normally would.”
“Whatever it is they want, I’m sure the Council will approve. We must see if our women are on those ships. And any humans the Scourge have taken since my mating of Gwen as well. Those human refugee camps must be secured also. We have extra warriors stationed outside them for now, but we have no idea how hard the Scourge will hit those camps to secure more human women.”
“I will ask my father for more shadow warriors to guard those camps. The Scourge won’t even see death coming for them should they attempt to get past a shadow guardian.”
“Very well, I will report these disturbing events to the Council. Return to your camp. I will get word to the Commanders at the other encampments around the planet about what we’ve discussed. We will get extra protection on those refugee camps, but quietly. We can’t rule out the probable truth that Tolvein was not the only one like him in our camps. For all we know they could have hundreds of spies and traitors waiting to undo us from within.”
Helion and Nefarion bowed to Bron and quickly left the headquarters. It was a tranquil place, it’s softness completely at odds with the Keeper who made it his home. But despite the peace of that wooded courtyard both Keepers were eager to get back to their mates. Helion instructed Nefarion to contact his father with all haste, as he himself planned to do. They needed more warriors, specialized to defend those camps and root out traitors. Nefarion’s Shadow guardians would do a fine job protecting the camps, but for seeking out traitors there would be none better than the shifters Bron would try to get on board for this campaign.
Shifters…Helion was not a fan of theirs in general. They were a race of beings that could change into a variety of beasts, and often let the primal instincts of their beasts to rule their behavior. They were often aggressive, cunning, and earthy. Which was just a polite way of saying they were sexually permissive. A few intrepid wolf shifter females had tried to engage Helion’s attentions at their last peace summit, and while he had quite a sexual appetite, it didn’t extend to being chased. Helion did his own hunting for partners; he wasn’t the hunted.
At least now he was mated, a status that even shifters didn’t try to dishonor. Once shifters mated they never betrayed their chosen ones, much like Keepers. But before they mated, anyone was fair game. Now that Helion had Gwen, any shifter females that came to fight would look elsewhere for satisfying their urges, and no shifter man would approach Gwen. Not if he valued his life anyway.
“Shifters and mages,” Nefarion growled beside him. “I understand the need, but I don’t like it. Mages are a selfish lot, not to mention arrogant. And the shifters are too hard to control.”
“I don’t disagree, but shifter senses could help us weed out any traitors lurking in our base camps. And you know mage portaling is the only way we’ll get up to those ships safely. Our gating technology is tied to the earth, it won’t take us up in the air onto those hulking metal beasts.”
“Much as I’d like to disagree with you, I can’t. We need to find those traitors, and rescuing any Keeper and human females that might be on those ships is paramount.”
“Yes, we will take back whoever they stole. And destroy those ships once and for all while we’re at it. Whatever the shifters and mages demand in exchange for their help will be worth it if we retrieve all hostages the Scourge currently hold.”
In grim accord Helion and Nefarion walked through the portal gate together to get back to their camp. Helion needed to see Gwen. After all the chaos and death, and the portend of bad things to come, he needed her freshness. He needed her to remind him of all he was fighting for, to wipe away his weariness with her vitality, and to sooth the rage inside him over all that had happened today. In short, he just needed his mate. When the portal opened to base camp he quickly bid farewell to Nefarion, with instructions to call for reinforcements from the Shadow king asap. And then he made haste for his tent and the waiting arms of his love.
* * * *
The last person Nefarion wanted to talk to right now was his father. He wanted to rush back to his mate as Helion was doing, not discuss the needs of war with Galkith. But the sooner this was done be could take a much-needed rest with Annabelle, so he reluctantly opened a link to his father.
“Son. I hope you’ve contacted me to say you’ve made the smart decision and set aside this human you’ve chosen as a mate. I can name ten Keeper females right this minute who would make an exceptional queen.”
Nefarion gritted his teeth, but knew that arguing with his father was futile. He would never change his mind about Annabelle, but maybe his stance would soften once he had grandchildren to dote on.
“That’s not the purpose of my link. We found the traitor in our camp, he nearly succeeded in taken the life of my chosen, with poison. But with his testimony, and the recent attacks on the human refugee camps, we now believe a larger game is afoot. I’m requesting more Shadow guardians for the human camps. We think the Scourge are trying to breed the human women, so we can’t leave those camps defenseless.”
“Why do we care if the Scourge breed with humans? It would do nothing but weaken their own abilities to combine with inferior human stock.” Galkith’s voice was dripping with arrogance, and Nefarion almost wished he was in front of his father now so he could wipe that smugness out of his tone. But perhaps it was better not to, he had no desire to be kin. Yet.
“Breeding with humans doesn’t weaken the stock. According to Nathal, Helion’s mate is carrying a Keeper babe through and through. The young one requires essence just like a Keeper babe, and Nathal says he is strong in his Keeper traits. But more importantly, we now believe that the Scourge might have taken Keeper women captive when they attacked Arthaneas. Tolvein said that his looks were Keeper, but his soul was Scourge. If his mother was a captive, and a Scourge was his father, that means we could have any number of traitors just like him trying to weaken our ranks from the inside. And if the Scourge can breed with humans as well, we might never rid ourselves of their taint should they send their mixed breeds into the human population.”
There was silence, but Nefarion could feel his father’s rage over the link. His wife, Nefarion’s mother, had been raped and murdered right there inside the palace where she should have been untouchable. But perhaps that was a kindness, compared to being taken captive and bred by Scourge filth. Nefarion would not wish that fate on his worst enemy, much less his own mother.
“You will have all the Shadow warriors you need, my son. That race needs to be wiped out entirely, full and half-breeds both. I want every single one of them dead.”
The link cut off, leaving Nefarion slightly bereft. His father didn’t ever discuss what had happened to his mother. He never spoke of her at all. When she was alive, Galkith had been vocally critical of how soft she was, but his mother had always just smiled and left it at that. Nefarion had grown up resenting his father for his critical treatment towards his mother, but now…now maybe he wondered if Galkith hadn’t had the same concerns that Nefarion had now for Annabelle. That she was too soft, that she needed hardening to survive as the queen of Shadow Keepers.
His thoughts on that carried him all the way to his tent. He ducked inside, anxious to see Annabelle, but came to a quick stop. No less than five of his men were inside, on high alert, and Annabelle was sitting up in bed looking mutinous.
“I told you I’m not hungry,” she said before catching sight of him standing by the tent flap. “Nefarion!” she cried out, her face lighting up. Nefarion basked in her excitement, that she was so happy just to see him.
“Hello mate,” he said
softly as he approached the bed quickly. He dismissed his men with a nod before stopping her attempts to get up out of bed by simply laying on top of her and pressing his lips to hers. She enthusiastically returned his kisses, quickly lighting a fire in both of them. How he wanted to strip her down and get inside her sweet body. But it would have to wait. Her body was still healing, and the way he wanted her was not gentle, or sweet. He needed a hard ride like a starving man needed food. Nothing else would satisfy but a rough, no holds barred pounding. So, he got in a few more kisses, thrusting deep inside her mouth and savoring the taste of her. And perhaps he ran his hands over her breasts a few times, but finally he pulled away.
“Don’t stop Nefarion,” Annabelle gasped, trying to pull him back to her.
“No, Annabelle. We can’t make love yet; your body still needs to heal. Give it a few days, and you won’t be able to keep me away.”
“I’m fine Nefarion, please. After everything that happened I need…I just need to feel alive. Alive and with you.” Annabelle upped the ante by running her hands through his hair, pulling lightly on the strands to bring his mouth up to hers.
Nefarion groaned, allowing Annabelle to lead him into another series of hot kisses before taking over and possessing her mouth with his tongue. She wanted to feel alive; he could give her that, without risking her health. He pulled his lips away and trailed down her neck, stopping to bite her shoulder before dipping down to Annabelle’s heaving breasts. Her nightgown was in the way, so he simply grabbed it by the neck and tore it in two until those luscious globes popped out for his inspection. Nefarion loved Annabelle’s breasts. They were large, with soft white skin the color of milk, tipped with nipples of a soft, blush pink.
Nefarion took his time on those delicate little nipples. He couldn’t decide what he liked best, licking them all around with his own tongue, or sucking them deep into his mouth and letting the soft flavor of her sink into his senses. No matter, he was content to do both, repeatedly, until Annabelle was crying out her pleasure and bowing her back for more. Her legs were moving restlessly as well, opening and closing to relieve the pressure he knew was building inside her. Nefarion longed to slide between them and satisfy them both, but right now was for her.
