Opposing Forces
Adrianne Kane
Copyright © 2017 by Adrianne Kane
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Blood Bound
Moonstruck
Bought by a Billionaire
About the Author
Chapter 1
I sat on the edge of my bed with a stiff posture, my hands folded neatly against the dark blue silk of my gown. If I stood, I would pace and Sanguinese dresses were made for elegance, not walking. I was going to die. In less than a week, there would be no more me and I accepted this fate with all the grace and dignity fitting my station. But telling Maxwell? I dreaded the conversation to come. He would likely become—emotional. Part of me couldn’t blame him, as a protector with one charge missing and the other to soon be executed, he had a dismal record, but it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.
A knock on the door made me jolt and I quickly fought to gain my composure. “Come in.”
My Maxwell, handsome and rugged as ever, came in glistening in sweat. His leathers covered in dust from a day and night of riding. He hadn’t even washed before coming directly to me. I would miss his scent. “Claudia, I’ve searched from one end of the kingdom to the other, every corner. Julian is nowhere to be found.”
He thought this was about Julian. Of course he did, how many disasters could he possibly foresee? I walked over to him and caressed his cheek, the start of a beard prickling my palm. “My brother is in mourning. When he is ready to return, he will. Don’t worry. He’s smart. He’ll be fine on his own.”
I pressed against him hoping my closeness would ease his pain. “There is something I need to discuss with you, however. But first you must promise me you will try to remain calm.”
He nodded, his dark eyes narrowing with worry. He had zero chance of keeping his promise, but I could remind him of it after he flew into a rage.
I sighed, the words refusing to pass my lips. “The Deabru king has sent word in regards to his sister.”
Max’s shoulders slumped. “So the truce is over? If ever people needed their king, it’s now. What was Julian thinking?!”
I shook my head. Tears welled in my eyes. I hadn’t even said it yet and I was already starting to crumble. I dug my nails into my palms in attempt to distract myself. I needed to remain strong, for Maxwell, for my people. I couldn’t be remembered as weak and simpering in the face of my fate.
“No...” I said, my words soft against the stale air of the room. “The truce will remain intact as long as I hand myself over to the Deabru.”
He took a step back, his eyes wild with shock and fear. “No. Lucius agreed to this? I need to go talk with him—”
“It’s already been decided.” I said sternly, my voice echoing off the walls to ensure he had heard me. He turned back to me, seemingly hurt and confused. “We can’t survive another war. If we have any chance at peace then this has to happen. My uncle knows and accepts the reality of the situation. Try to understand. Please don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
My fist was so tight that my nails finally broke the skin. Max’s gaze fell to the spot where my blood began to pool on the marble flooring. There went my dignified exit.
“No. No!” All of the nervous energy I felt was reflected in his stance. The outline of every muscle was visible through his leathers. Rage would lead him to shift at any moment, but he had nothing to battle. There was no beast he could slay to save me. “I won’t let you. Even if I have to kill every damn Deabru with my bare hands, I won’t let you!”
I never thought Max and I would last. We were so young when we became lovers. Yet, for almost a hundred years, he’d never even looked at another woman the way he looked at me. I had always expected him to reach a phase where he decided he needed to try new things, to venture beyond me, and I had prepared myself to let him go when it came to that. But that moment never came. Maxwell would be faithful and loving until the day I died, which was why what I had to do was so hard. “As your liege, I command you not to follow me to Deabru territory. You will not try to stop me, save me or avenge my death. Do you understand me?”
His hand shifted, hairs sprouting out around long black claws as he tossed my nightstand into the bed, shattering the crystal candlestick that had been sitting atop of it. “No! I do not understand! I don’t understand any of this!”
As he tore apart my room, I waited patiently at the center of the tempest. There was a peace to be had as I watched him tear apart things I’d never need again. He was a surrogate for the rage I couldn’t express. Once he exhausted himself he fell to his knees and wept. In all the years I had known him, I’d never seen him cry before. Those tears were for me and the life we could never have.
I knelt down next to him and placed my hand on his trembling shoulder.
“I have to die. I can’t let my kingdom fall just to save myself. My life isn’t worth my kingdom.”
He blinked up at me as if I had made some sort of serious miscalculation. “Your life is worth everything.”
In that moment my heart shattered, every part of me wanted to hold him and let him fight but my better judgment won. There was nothing anyone could do. The Deabru king wanted my life in exchange for allowing his sister to kill herself. He had to know we couldn’t sustain another war. For a demon, the trade was almost…merciful.
I needed to hold my ground, find my composure and tie up my affairs. Clearing my throat I pushed myself to my feet, strode to the heap that used to resemble a desk and found a piece of parchment. I wanted to make sure everything would be taken care of whether I was around or not. If my Maxwell was this tortured, I feared what my blood slaves might do when they heard the news.
No other being could understand the unique connection a vampire had with the people that nourished them. We often pretending they meant little to us for appearance sake, but we were insanely protective of them. Even the idea of other vampires feeding on my slaves pricked me. But I wouldn’t let my feelings cost them the long life and good health that came with being owned.
I offered Max the parchment. “Maxwell, I need you to look after my slaves.” I could feel his eyes on me but I refused to look. If I did, I might break. “They will need to be placed with new owners. I need you to do this for me.” A lump formed in my throat.
“They will need new homes, good homes. I don’t want them anywhere near the southern border. I would prefer them to stay at court if at all possible, but if they must leave I want them as far from danger as possible.”
“I took the liberty of writing down my preferences for them and each one’s personal needs to better assist you.”
I mustered up every ounce of courage I had and looked into his eyes. “I need you to do this for me, Maxwell. Just this one last order.”
His eyes searched mine for any hint of my resolve crumbling, but he would find none. My mind had been made up, the decision was final.
Defeat blanketed his sweet features and his tear-filled eyes fell from mine as he nodded in compliance before slowly taking the note.
The mask I wore had grown far too heavy. Max’s pain was a mere fraction of my own. Biting back the urge to scream, I rushed from the room, the silk train of my dress fluttering behind me.
Chapter 2
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I headed straight for the carriage. I didn't stop in the halls where Julian used to carry me on his shoulders. I didn't peek into the ballroom where we celebrated the end of the war and my slaves got so drunk I had to carry most of them to bed. And I most definitely didn't look over the balcony at the waterfall where Maxwell and I made love for the first time under the glowing light of a silver moon. The truth of the matter was I loved living and I didn't want to give it up. But there was something I loved more, my people, human and Sanguinese alike. I couldn't let my people die because I was too cowardly or selfish to do what was right.
When the twelve-foot high, golden embroidered doors were pulled open, I expected a lone carriage, packed with the few things I needed on my journey, ready to take me to my destination and a small escort. At first the light of the midday sun blinded me, but as my eyes adjusted I gasped. Filling the garden was every resident of the palace. Every man, woman and child had come to see me off, including my blood slaves. I could tell most had been crying, but as they stood there, they watched with their heads up and their chins high, just as I would wish.
My uncle, Lucius, stood closest to me. Though far older than Julian and I, he appeared around thirty in human years making him look more like my older brother than my uncle. In my brother's absence, he served as regent, a golden crown encircling the twisted locks of his blond hair, indicating his station. As I approached him, he knelt before me. A show of respect for my sacrifice. The rest of the court followed as I made my way past them to the ivory trimmed carriage. I wanted to say something to them, but what could I possibly say?
The footman opened the door and helped me in. I sat down and began to bundle the reams of fabric that made up my accursed dress. No one should be in a hurry to their own execution, but this was just too hard. I needed to get out of the palace before I broke down and made a spectacle of myself.
Once we were past the gates I thought there would be some reprieve, but it seemed as though news of my sacrifice had made it through the city and everyone my carriage passed stopped what they were doing and fell to their knees. Many cried, calling out my name and reaching for me as I rode on. When they got too close, a firm glare from one of my guards was usually enough for them to wilt away.
Things got quieter after we got past the bounds of the city. In the cool country air, I was left to my thoughts. And of course there was only one thing on my mind. How were they going to kill me? The Deabru enjoyed burning their enemies. That would be a particularly slow and gruesome death. I would be hard pressed not to scream as my body tried again and again to heal itself despite being immolated. Given my royal status maybe they would give me a quick beheading. That would be nice and dignified, well at least until after I was dead and my head rolled away. Though I figured the most likely scenario was being tossed from the highest point of the Deabru castle which resided at the top of a mountain. The fall would be long enough for me to get bored on the way down. Given that's how Zuriel's sister died, it would most likely be my fate. And probably one of the least painful, most dignified options I could think of.
I just hoped that whenever Julian came home he didn't blame himself for my death. I knew he would, but that was yet one more thing I had no power over. The only thing I could do was not struggle too much when they tossed me into the volcano.
The journey from the palace to the Deabru castle took a week by carriage. We stopped nightly at forts and keeps that peppered the long southern road, leaving behind the lush green lands of my kingdom to the barren rock of the Deabru. They made their homes high in the mountains, hidden by fog, they were nearly impossible to find until they descended down on innocent villages like starved beasts hunting for a meal. They may have had the faces of humans but their leathery wings and black eyes told their true nature. Something dark and evil. How my brother could have drunk from such a creature let alone fallen in love with her was beyond my understanding.
But that was the nature of men. They'd lay with a turnip if you carved it into an appealing shape.
And it was the duty of women to bear the brunt of men's poor choices. So as the clouds turned gray and everything I ever cared about was far, far behind me I steeled myself for what was ahead. I would die well, and do my people proud.
When the Deabru stronghold came into view my jaw dropped. Since women did not fight, I'd never been this far south and had only imagined what the castle might look like. I'd always pictured a Sanguinese fort dark and brooding, high up with no entrances by foot. Instead onyx-colored pillars pierced the sky, weaving in and out of clouds that flickered from shades of grey to purple in the fading sun light. Silver accents brought out the natural colors surrounding the castle giving it an ethereal beauty that threatened to steal my breath.
The carriage stopped. My awe inspired gaze dropped from the castle and I was about to ask one of my escorts why we'd stopped when I noticed what was on the road before us. Four winged men, dressed in dark metal armor and wearing the crest of the Deabru royal guard waited on the road next to a black and silver litter curtained with white silk. Behind them were four drakes, saddled and tied to the litter.
We had arrived. Mournfully, the footman opened the door for me and helped me out of the carriage. "May the gods look after you, Princess Claudia."
I placed a gloved hand on his shoulder. "Thank you." I looked at the ten men who had seen me safely to my execution. "Now you should all head home. You've done your duty." It was time for me to do mine.
Wanting to go with as much dignity as possible, I didn't wear traveling clothes on the last day of my journey. Instead I wore my most extravagant red gown, with a hand-embroidered bodice, the v-cut neckline descended down to my belly button as the nine foot train trailed behind me. Several dainty chains of gold hung from my neck. Rubies covered my tiara and were beaded through my hair, clinging to various pale locks like crimson droplets of blood scattered across soft sand. I was not going to step into that barbaric court as anything less than what I was, a princess of the greatest house in the history of the realm.
I walked up to the four men alone and unarmed, even without their wings each of them towered over me. But I showed no fear. "I am Princess Claudia of the House of Corvus. Your king is expecting me."
One of the men gestured for me to enter the litter. I'd expected for their faces to be twisted with hatred, but instead they had the cold detachment of military men simply doing their job. That bothered me more than hate. What was the point of executing me over something which people felt indifferent about? After I sat down and began to gather up my dress, to my surprise one of the guards leaned down to help me. Wide-eyed, I mumbled, "Thank you." As small as the gesture was, it was something I would never expect from a Deabru.
As the guards headed to their mounts I noticed my escorts hadn't left. Instead, they stood at attention watching as my litter was lifted from the ground and towards the sky. As they became specks in the distance beneath me, I realized I'd never lay eyes on my people again.
The litter was lowered onto a giant stone balcony that led directly into the grand throne room. Great stone pillars lined the path between me and the throne, on either side—demons. I guess some might call it a royal court, but dressed in leathers and furs they looked more like beasts than high born. Though the king was different. He lounged comfortably in his throne without a care dressed in a black linen tunic that held few embellishments. The throne next to him was more delicately carved, fit for a queen, though it hadn't been occupied since her death many years prior. I only knew of her legend, a female warrior, fierce as she was beautiful. When she should have been home producing an heir, she was instead leading troops into battle. As a child, I idolized her. I named my prettiest doll after her, though when news came that she'd killed my father on the battlefield, I burned it. It had been so hard not to cry when mother climbed onto father's funeral pyre. After all, I was just a child and lacked the discipline I learned as an adult. But somehow, I managed.
I held on to the image o
f the little girl watching her world go up in flames, clutching it as if it was a lifeline. I was strong then and I was strong now. I would not cower. I strode past the Deabru "court", every eye in the room locked on me in shunning silence and stopped right in front of the king with my head held high. "I am Claudia Corvus, Princess of Sanguine."
He rose from his throne and approached me. He was ridiculously tall, with broad shoulders that seemed even wider due to the black wings tucked behind him. He lifted my chin forcing me to look into his glassy charcoal eyes. They were bottomless. I could fall into them and never be found. I wanted so badly to look away, but I wouldn't let myself.
"You are very pretty," he said it like I was a horse he wanted to buy.
Or worse... Maybe he wouldn't just execute me. Maybe he'd make sport of me first. No. He couldn't. I was a princess! If he dishonored me in that way, my uncle would be forced into war regardless.
My stomach sank.
He could have his revenge and his war. Why didn't I see that before? Was it because it was hard for me to imagine that level of evil?
"We didn't hurt her, your sister. She died by her own hand." Maybe if he knew we treated our royal captive with respect, he'd do the same.
He released me. "You don't think I have spies in your court, vampire? They might not have been able to get her out, but they were able to get me news of her condition and if she had been harmed I would have brought that gaudy golden hut down around your heads."
Hut? Did he call my ancestral home a hut? Anger flickered across my expression before I could bury it. It was obvious he had noticed as he wore a long satisfied grin.
"If you knew we played no part in her death, why would you ask for me?"
Opposing Forces Page 1
