Dark Throne, The

by Raven Willow-Wood

  "I'm glad. Without both of you, it has not been the happiest of homes. However your father and I have managed. He's still asleep. The sun has only just arisen. He's never been an early riser, your father. Always late to bed and last to awaken.” She smiled. "When the Pompous Guardian deigned to tell me my daughter had returned to the fold, I didn't even think to tell Henrik.” She clapped her hands to her face and grinned. "I'd best do so now, or he'll spank me later for letting him sleep.”

  With that, she pressed a kiss to Heather's bemused cheek and darted out of the room.

  For a moment, Fade and Heather just looked at each other and then burst out laughing. "Why do I think she actually means that? That he'll spank her, I mean?"

  Fade bit back a smile. "Probably because he will. She didn't seem too upset at the idea though, maybe I shall have to introduce that into our own bond?"

  "You even dare,” she warned, her eyes sparking with amusement.

  "Oh, I'll dare. You just make sure you keep yourself safe. Put yourself in danger and then you will know what a spanking feels like.”

  She stuck out her tongue at him, but the idea was worthy of merit. He could remember the acts his mother partook in, acts that as a boy had been an adventure but as an adult, were totally unsuitable for a woman of her position to undertake. His father hadn't controlled her and he could understand, Fade didn't want to control Heather, but if her health and safety were at risk, then he would.

  She frowned at him, apparently realizing the truth behind his words. "You can't spank me.”

  "Don't put yourself in danger and I won't.”

  "What danger?"

  "You're in a kingdom surrounded by other nations that are remilitarizing their troops, Heather. Something's going on. There'll be treachery afoot. Trust no one save myself and your parents. Stay close to the Palace, don't leave it without one of us or your father's trusted guard.”

  "And what about you? Warrior King? Can I spank you if you put yourself in danger?"

  He shrugged. "No. That is my role. To protect my kingdom, but more importantly, to protect and sustain the life of my mate. To do anything but that goes against my soul. If you feel you must, you can punish me in other ways.” He grinned and sat back into the cushioned backrest of the sofa. Folding his arms on his chest, he knew he looked like a satisfied chat.

  "Okay. Let's deal. For every battle you undertake, I get to take five orgasms for every one of your own.”

  "That's hardly fighting talk, Heather. You get that anyway.”

  She blushed. "Okay, then, ten.”

  "We are in agreement. You are to be awarded ten orgasms for every one of my own, if I have to take to the field. Mayhap I should instigate more wars.”

  "You dare.”

  "Oh, I dare, sweetling,” he retorted, voice smug. "The punishment is worth the bloodletting.” He winked to let her know he was teasing, for her hair had almost stood on edge, she was bristling so ferociously.

  She sighed and said, "I'll think of worse punishments over time. Don't you worry.”

  "I look forward to it.”

  "I wonder what my dad's like?" she asked, her face turning to the door.

  "From all accounts, a good King. Well respected by his people, well liked. A good man too, from what I've heard.”

  "Have you never met him?"

  "No. I was never allowed out of Haden on diplomatic missions.” There was no bitterness to his words, but Heather stared at him angrily.

  "Because of your wings?" When he nodded, she jumped up. "Well, that will be the first thing we have to do. Stop all this bloody prejudice about your wings. Christ Almighty, there are people here with green hair and blue skin. How can that be okay but your wings can't be? Well, I'm not having it. Do you hear me, Fade? I don't know what we'll do to change people's perceptions of you, but we'll do it. My mate won't be classed as a freak, when he's not. Bloody cheek.”

  "I am a throwback to a time, when elfen were bloodthirsty, sweetling. There is no need to take offense on my behalf. The majority of people have heard tales of the elfen with wings and they expect a monster.”

  "Well, you're not a monster and I don't want people to think of you that way. And what if our children have them? Do you want our people to think they're freaks? I mean, for God's sake, you should be envied. You have transport on your back.”

  He grinned. "A flying chariot, am I?"

  It amazed him how he could feel so free from levity on such a topic of conversation, when in the past it would have angered him greatly. Because she took umbrage for him, he did not have to feel it.

  It was remarkably freeing.

  She waved a hand. "You know what I mean.” Heather stopped in front of him, hands on slim hips and in a way that forced her breasts to almost pop out of her bodice. "I'm not having it, Fade. It hurts me.”

  "I know, dearling. I can sense that. But it takes time.”

  "Well, change is coming and people better get used to that,” she retorted mutinously.

  "Shoulders back, my heart, your breasts are in danger of tumbling free.”

  She glanced down and grimaced, immediately straightening her shoulders. "It's this stupid dress. I mean, what the hell kind of outfit is it anyway?"

  "You look beautiful in it. Like a princess but a sensual one at that.”

  "Really?" She smirked as his eyes brushed her breasts.

  "Yes, really.”

  "I can't deny, it's comfortable. Like a toga.”

  "Toga?"

  "Yes. Something one of the ancient people of Rome used to wear. It doesn't matter. I guess the colors represent something?"

  "Aye. Maris blue is Jender's national color. As is silver. Black and gold are my colors.”

  "How did they know to have this ready for us?"

  "Oh dearling, they made it for you. You are a Queen now. Or you will be once I'm crowned.”

  She grimaced. "Christ. I don't feel like a Queen. I feel like a technical writer. What does a Queen do?"

  "Look pretty for the most part.”

  Chapter Ten

  Setta's words floated through the door and Fade rolled his eyes.

  "Your mother dislikes waiting for us to permit her entry.” He flickered his gaze to hers. "The protocol matters not, Setta. But you might not like what you find, if you burst in upon us again.”

  A booming laugh sounded behind Setta and Henrik shuffled in, pushing his wife forwards. "Her ears are pink now. You've embarrassed her. Fifty years ago, I'd have called you out for that. But then, you are my son in law.” Henrik was a large man. Over seven feet tall, grizzled and stocky. His face was handsome but he had lines that spoke of his age. His ears were loaded with cuffs. Heather shared her father's eyes. They were like quicksilver and they soon sought his daughter and softened immediately.

  Fade could see the other man was not ashamed to cry at the sight of his long lost daughter.

  Henrik opened his arms and said, "Heather.”

  Heather hovered, obviously wanting to go but her mind was obviously at war with her heart. Henrik's hurt was visible and Fade felt his pain. The King's arms faltered and were about to lower, when Heather suddenly took off, almost knocking Henrik over in her haste to embrace him.

  In a way, Fade knew his mate's emotions would be more unstable with her father. Setta was a Lady. Unused to showing affection, something that had probably worsened without the softening presence of her daughter. She had been a Crown Princess of Halstor and those people were not known for their affectionate and open personalities.

  Jenderians, on the other hand, were.

  "Oh, it is good to see you, lass,” Henrik whispered, but his whisper was louder than the average man's mutter.

  "It's strange. I don't know you but I do. I'll get used to it, but it's still weird.”

  "Weird? What is weird?"

  Fade spoke up, "Your daughter's tongue is laced with Earth colloquialisms. I've learned that weird is similar to peculiar. For the most part, she is fluent, but when you can'
t understand a word, it's usually because she's cursing.”

  Heather broke free of her father's bear hug. "Oh, great, Fade. Tell my dad that I swear.”

  "He would have learned of your propensity to curse sooner or later.”

  "Later being the preferable moment.”

  He merely cocked his brows, hiding a smile as she shot yet another glare at him.

  "Come, lass, I swear. It is not proper for a lady of your station to do so, but neither is it usual for you to leave the protection of the castle. We must accept you for the creature you have become and proud we are of that.” He kept his hands on her shoulders and studied her. "You remind me of Setta, when she was but a lass. But you've got my eyes.” He nodded. "They pass through our line they do, Heather. Your children will have them. Wings too, probably.”

  The lack of censure in his tone stopped any anger passing from Heather's lips. He watched her deflate and felt pride in her stance. She truly cared for him, hated that people were prejudiced.

  When destiny had made her his mate, when their blood had been forged together, he had been the lucky one.

  Not she.

  Desperate times called for desperate measures.

  Calder was on the brink of a treasonous act but when his ultimate intent was to kill a man, who according to the ridiculous laws of this nation ought to be king, he supposed abusing some shamans was not all that bad in comparison.

  Abusing a shaman’s power could result in execution. As could killing Fade, his nephew, the future King, if the council realized he was behind the act.

  For the past five days since Calder had witnessed Fade and some changeling, hoonan female in one of the crystal orbs, he’d known that the time to act was upon him. Fade had returned to this plane, he was not stuck in another dimension and the timing couldn’t have been worse.

  There were but a few weeks remaining to the deadline imposed by the council: soon, he would either be seated upon the throne he coveted so, or be winging his way back to his quarters. A prospect he simply couldn’t tolerate.

  Unfortunately, he had the feeling that Merrick would twist and manipulate the laws of the land to ensure that Calder would never sit upon the throne.

  As such, he was at a stalemate. The only alternative seemed to be to cause enough mischief and mayhem to instigate a war and even then, his reasonings were overstretched. Everything relied upon unreliable information and he sorely felt the lack of pertinent facts.

  From his position on the bed, he could hear the wailings of the small group of shamans that one of his stewards had dragged into his suite earlier. They’d been there for hours, grunting and groaning at being hog-tied, but he had ignored them for the most part.

  The consequences of his actions did not concern him. He was already far too deeply embroiled in the situation to be scared at the prospect of having more blood on his hands. The end result concerned him more than anything and whether his plottings would take him to where he needed to be.

  Upon the Dark Throne.

  Calder knew he was getting desperate and for that alone, he wanted Merrick to die.

  Without Merrick, Calder would have been King for the last year. Without Merrick, Calder’s life would be free from problems and so, he had deduced that whatever route he chose to take, it would have to include the annihilation of both Fade and the councilor. In many ways, Merrick was more of his nemesis than Fade.

  Only by destroying the pair of them would he be able to accede to the throne. His rightful place.

  Leaping off the bed, he strode towards the prone shamans. There were four in total. One of the elder ones had fainted. Her chest moved sluggishly and Calder cursed his stewards for their mistreatment of the woman. It wasn’t that he cared for her welfare, it was that he cared their abuse would deny him the answers he sought.

  Ignoring the other three, he strode to her, turned her on to her front and untied her wrists. Her arms had been pulled so far back that it had been difficult for her to breathe so constricted had been her chest. Now with her hands free, she was starting to breathe normally and color was returning to her cheeks.

  The three other shamans glared at him. Their ages varied. The still-unconscious woman was the eldest and the youngest had to have seen only sixteen years. They were here to guide him to the throne and Calder knew he had to move fast and move decisively because he himself was starting to wonder if he would ever obtain his ultimate dream.

  Throughout this last year, Merrick had juggled ancient and antique laws. Weaving them, crafting them, manipulating them so that Calder was tied up in a legal battle. It had been far easier to murder his way to the throne and now this one bastard was standing in his way. When Calder had seen Fade and the hoonan in the crystal orb, an idea had come to him and with some finagling, he thought he had a reasonable idea of a way to achieve all he’d ever wanted.

  Fade’s face had been alight with happiness, when his gaze had touched upon the strange female who accompanied him and Calder had never seen such a reaction from his nephew. Practically always staid and dour, such an expression told him of the female’s importance to the other man. And while she had the appearance of a hoonan, the woman was quite definitely full of intrigue.

  Why?

  Because the two of them had met with the King and Queen of Jender. He’d heard of the disappearance of the Crown Princess of Jender a few decades ago but had thought nothing of it, for Jender’s affairs did not concern him.

  Until now.

  There could be no other reason for Fade to take a woman to meet with the King and Queen of Jender unless that stranger was their daughter. At least, that seemed to be the most logical explanation. He’d looked into the disappearance and the women appeared to be the right age and held a passable likeness to the young girl’s appearance.

  There had been news of the girl’s death, of her kidnapping… stories concocted to explain away the chit’s vanishing act. And while it seemed improbable that the girl was said Princess, there was no other explanation and because of that image meeting with the royal family, Calder had had an idea.

  Somehow, he had to get to the woman.

  The path ahead of Calder was fraught with potential errors. Fraught with danger both to himself to his nation and also to his soul. The mayhem he intended to cause would turn realms on their heads, but he had striven for too long to become the King of Haden.

  It was in his blood. He was more than desperate to rule, because Calder knew that the onyx laden seat was his destiny. Over the last five days, he had locked himself in his old chambers. The new suites the council had given him upon his new and more exalted status were comfortable and pleasant but they were not suitable for what he had planned. In his study, books lined the walls from floor to ceiling. There were normal books, there were grand tomes of spells and wizardry and magick. But there were also those who dealt with the dark magick. With the dark arts. It was here where he had found his solution, no matter how convoluted that solution might be. Amongst the writings etched in blood, with books covered in human flesh, he had found the answer.

  The steps Calder was on the brink of taking would change many lives. But he was willing to see it through in order to obtain that which should have always belonged to him.

  His only concern lay with his soul.

  And where that was concerned, Calder knew he reason to worry.

  The deaths that rested with him, the blood that lay on his hands, it all meant that Mother Mearth’s fury with him would be far more terrifying a prospect than anything he could imagine on Mearth itself. Her retribution would be fierce and in that regard, he was scared. But at the same time, his lust for power was too great to swerve him from this path.

  Everything he’d ever wanted was within reach. He just had to widen his grip and hold tight.

  Over hours of study, he’d discovered that there was a magick that manipulated the air. It twisted time and space and wrapped it around certain shaman’s fingers. From what he’d been able to understand, this power
would enable a person to open a pocket in space as though one had passed through a door and into another room. Within seconds he could land in the Jenderian castle, abduct what he could only assume was the Princess of Jender and then retreat to his suites in the Haden nation.

  Using the crystal orbs to ascertain the girl’s solitude, he would be a silent abductor. Leaving no evidence behind to point in his direction. And that was where the shamans came in. These four had all been reported as possessing magick that pertained to the air.

  There were many types of shamans. Some dealt with fire or with Earth, others with water – a talent Calder himself possessed- or the weather. But these four in his rooms were able to manipulate air. And it was this particular type of shaman that would enable Calder to enact his plan.

  His intentions were to cause a war. It would mean the deaths of many of his fellow Elfen but it would be worth it in the end. He felt no guilt whatsoever for the losses of lives that lay ahead. He had a purpose and that purpose had to be seen to fruition. Haden and Jender were on the brink of a union. If Fade wed the Princess of Jender, this would unite the two nations. A coronation was imminent and Calder intended to make sure that it was he upon the throne and not Fade and this woman.

  If Calder could steal the princess, before a wedding could occur, then suspicion would rest with Jender’s enemies. Of which there were many. Kingdoms that envied Jender’s natural resources and gifts from Mother Mearth. He would never be suspected for he was of Haden soil. In that respect it was a perfect plan.

  Haden would unite with Jaden in their search for the Princess and when Calder planted proof that one of these other nations were behind the Princess’ abduction then Haden and Jender would go to war with that nation.

  Fade would be so furious that he would not think of a coronation, he’d think only of retrieving the female. The women who tolerated him were few and far between and from that look of pleasure on his face, Calder knew that the woman was of extreme importance to his nephew. He could only hope that Fade would rush off into battle and that in his grief, his powers would be diminished and he would be slain on the battle field. And if that wasn’t the case, Calder would scurry fate along.