The Coming Dawn Trilogy

by Austen Knowles

  “Again?” she asked, not excited about more fighting.

  Ky ate while standing, so Oella could magically fashion another dress. “I saw that your dress was ruined. I’ll fix the gown today, and make it stronger, my Lady. The long flowing skirt on this dress may look flimsy, but even dragon fire can’t harm it. Nothing man-made will be able to ruin any more of your clothes. I made several garments for you already, but I can easily upgrade them.”

  “Thank you, Oella.”

  Oella looked taken aback by the gratitude. There was a moment of silence as Oella stared. Then she smiled. “You’re welcome.” Oella blinked, still not sure what to think about Ky’s appreciation. “Anyway, I’ll have to think of something for your Lighting Ceremony. I’ve seen your crown; would you like to see a temporary copy of it?” Ky curiously agreed, and Oella formed a crown in the air from glass. Oella fashioned a tiara of pink and white gems over a foot tall.

  “Wow,” Ky breathed, as Oella put it on her head.

  “I’ll make a dress to go with it. You’ll look stunning.” Oella, suddenly very helpful, pointed to Huntra. “Your cat is a snow tiger. They have compartments on their backs for sleeping. You’re very lucky to have one. You can store things in that room. It’s like a secret treasure chest; when you own the cat it’s your room. I hear you’re traveling—I’ll make blankets, pillows, clothes, everything you will need for your journey.”

  “Thank you, Oella. That is really nice of you.” Ky smiled, and wished she had something to repay her for her kindness, and said so.

  “It’s no trouble. Here. Ask your cat to get bigger.” As Oella retrieved her clothes, Huntra tripled in size. Oella enhanced the garments, making them more durable, and then handed them to Ky. Then Oella made blankets and pillows, stacking them in Ky’s arms.

  “Have you ever seen a never-ending water flask?”

  “No,” Ky shook her head with emphasis. “I’m guessing you always have water in a cup though, right?”

  “Exactly,” Oella said, as she took an orb, twirled her hands around it and made a very small, single ounce silver decanter with a stopper. When she went to hand it to Ky she stopped. “Some people say that witches are bad. Some people would never trust one to drink a potion they made. Do you trust me?”

  “I have no reason not to,” Ky said, though she thought Oella’s question was odd.

  “Well, I’ll know you do when you drink the water.” Oella smiled. “Just not now. You have training. Climb onto your cat’s back, and ask him to make the bed. Leave them in there, when you come out.”

  “Okay.” Ky did as Oella suggested. While in the room, she set everything onto his white, fluffy fur. She stared at the small vessel that lay next to her. Oella’s plea to believe her, made her uneasy. Instead of leaving the bottle in the room, she tucked it snuggly away in the only place she knew she could hide it—between her breasts. Then Ky asked Huntra to let her out.

  Huntra shrank to house cat size when Oella solicited, “Did you leave everything in there?”

  Sensing that Oella knew, Ky thought honesty was best. She was mostly truthful, anyway. “I kept the flask in case I want a drink.” A terrible lie, but Oella smiled, and nodded. “I think it’s cool.” Ky shrugged, gave a small laugh, and decided she didn’t care if Oella believed her.

  Oella eyed Ky one last time to make sure she was ready for the day. “Well, we wasted enough time. Cobaaron is waiting.”

  She passed the council chamber on the way to the study hall. The doors were open and a few members were whispering. They stopped talking when they saw her, and closed the door. Oella ushered her past the chamber and knocked on the study hall door. Oella left her as Ky walked in.

  The hall was spacious with small, square niches holding rolled parchments. It looked like a messy library. There were three-legged chairs and six-legged tables stacked along the left wall. Cobaaron stood in the back of the room. He smiled at her when she entered. He was standing in front of twenty scale skirt clad warriors. She knew Ly, Brute, Davior, Edom, and Noxis.

  “I should have mentioned to your handmaiden that you would be sparring this morning.” Cobaaron grinned looking at her gown and then took a bite of a fruit that smelled like an apple. “Let’s start with Spaci. He’s a close contact fighter.”

  Ky wasn’t ready. Spaci rushed her with no warning. Ky instinctively backed away. “Too easy,” Spaci gloated, not slowing his sprint. At the last second Ky ducked, rolling away. He detached a metallic baton from his belt, and swung it at Ky’s head. Ky screamed as she held up her hands to block him. But when she took a step back she tripped on the hem of her dress and fell on the ground, barely missing the tip of his weapon. He was not going to make it easier on her; in fact, he was going to kill her if he managed to hit her with the iron. He must have thought so, too, because he flipped the baton around to strike her with the wooden handle. He lunged, grabbed a fistful of her hair, and forced her head still so he could strike her temple.

  “Stop!” Cobaaron yelled when Spaci raised his baton aloft to clobber her. “Let go of her, Spaci. If you truly harm her, I swear I’ll kill you. This is a spar, not an opportunity to beat a woman.” Cobaaron gave Ky a hand, and heaved her up off the floor while still speaking to the men: “And that goes for the rest of you. No one is to hurt her. Just show her where she’s vulnerable.” He then added, “Again.”

  Spaci advanced again. This time Ky was standing next to the watching warriors. She sunk into the crowd, but they thrust her toward Spaci with a forceful push. Just in time, she snatched a sword from a warrior and blocked his baton, but lost grip of her weapon and it went flying.

  “Good, Ky. Faster.”

  Spaci seized Ky from behind. His thick arm squeezed her neck, blocking blood flow, while his hand hooked the crook of his other arm that held the back of her head. He lifted her off the ground by leaning back. She was powerless. Ky flailed her legs in panic. He easily restrained her, while she struggled. She released his arm and reached around for his weapon but felt nothing but his belt. While light-headed, she yanked his belt free, whipped it back, and struck him as he yelped in pain. The hook caught on his back. He dropped her, and the belt snagged his skin, tearing his flesh.

  Spaci roared in anger from pain as blood dripped to the floor. Ky gasped, tossed the belt, and scurried away, frightened by his fury. He glanced down, and noticed his scale skirt gone.

  Spaci became livid. He didn’t care to dress, but attack her. “No, please!” Ky squeaked, seeing the hatred in his eyes for exposing him.

  He wrenched her neck back by the hair, and jerked her closer to whisper. “Just because Cobaaron is spellbound, and you’re his witch, you think you can humiliate me? Your days are numbered, witch.” He shoved her several feet and she tumbled to the floor as he raised his baton.

  “Stop!” Cobaaron commanded. “Spaci, get dressed. I said get dressed! This session is over. Clear out men.” Ky hid her eyes, giving Spaci time to dress. She didn’t want to infuriate him further. She waited, remaining on the ground until she heard the men leave.

  Cobaaron came to her, and offered a hand. As he hoisted her up, he said, “This isn’t working. You aren’t getting any faster. You’re not any better than last night. Maybe you’re merely able to watch me move fast. Have you been able to keep up with me all along?”

  She nodded, then said, “I don’t care for fighting. I’d rather have you do all my fighting for me.”

  “I’ll always fight for you, but you need to learn.”

  Noxis, who hadn’t left the room, came into Ky’s view. “Did you sleep with her?”

  “Of course I haven’t. The bond was broken. I wouldn’t have been able to break it if I had.” Cobaaron sounded amused by his demand of intimate information.

  “Why do you have feelings for her then? It’s not like you to feel…”

  “But I do feel for her,” Cobaaron said.

  “Will you make another union with her? You should let another man take her,” Noxis expressed wi
th concern, and put his hand on his shoulder. “Please, brother.”

  “I don’t expect you to understand, but I can’t do that,” Cobaaron said. “I have already considered you’d have apprehension. But you need to trust me.”

  “You must give her up for your future. It’s for the best that bond was broken. Let a council member care for her wellbeing. They know it’s too dangerous to leave a Star without a bond, and will find her a partner. Our men are talking...” Noxis cut off his words, when he glanced at Ky.

  “Before you leave, Noxis,” Cobaaron said, ignoring his warnings while making it clear he wanted him to leave, “Spaci threatened her life.”

  “I’ll watch him.” Noxis gave a bow.

  Cobaaron waited for Noxis to leave. They were alone when he faced Ky. “I need to talk to you, Ky. It’s important.”

  “Okay.”

  “Stars make for very special bonds,” Cobaaron began, “because a Star’s happiness is crucial for a long life. Their union is a powerful bond that draws his or her lover in with great strength. With two ordinary people, he or she can only change eye color, hair, or basic features. Genuine love takes longer to grow, especially if they don’t care for each other in the beginning. Stars can influence lovers to change, or even alter themselves, to ensure the bond is kept. Usually, Stars pair with other Stars. If there is only one Star, he or she unites with a council member, but the human often dies and transforms into light because the blood is too hot and powerful. More often than not, the courtship is chosen by the council, they briefly talk before they share blood, the union transforms both to a perfect match with unwavering devotion over a day or two, and then the night of the ceremony they finish the union.

  “A Star has never considered a warrior. For one, they’re never around and would die if the warrior chose to abandon them, and usually they are married long before troops arrives. The labor force, protectors of each city, rarely step foot in it because there is no need; they survive on their own in the wild as part of their training.

  “While you Ky, are incredibly beautiful, and have proven to my men that you’re willing to bond with a warrior and you’ve truly made me great. I’ve heard of my men talking. They see how you changed me, and know our bond is broken. They desire you to increase their power.” Cobaaron swept her hair over her shoulder, looking at her soft curves from her neck down to her hips. He slid his hand across her shoulder, and then grazed her breast as he ran his fingers in her crimson glowing locks. He smiled, knowing he was freely and affectionately touching her, and liked that she hadn’t stopped him. “You’re irresistible, and not just to me.”

  He continued with his intimacies. He traced the scarlet swirls on her skin, before slipping his hand around her waist to draw her close. “What is it like where you’re from? How does the man suggest a future union if it isn’t a blood bond?”

  “He proposes on one knee with a ring.”

  “I want to reestablish our bond, and tell my men we fulfilled the union. I’m jealous, and don’t want them to lust after or want you. I want you. I’d give you the odd custom of a ring and display of servitude. I’m not an emotional man, but I do feel greatly for you. The bond has surely worn off, and I know my feelings are my own if they are stronger than ever. If you feel the same, don’t deny me.” With only a heartbeat for a pause he entreated for a fast reply. “What is your answer?”

  “I’m no man’s wielding weapon,” Ky said, and walked toward the door.

  “That is your answer? Stop! If you’re still mad at me, I’m sorry. I want the union, and I want you safe,” Cobaaron pleaded, calling after her.

  Ky opened the doors, and spoke to the guard. “I need your dagger.” She held out her hand. The warrior paused, hesitant to acquiesce. Even though he didn’t know why she needed it, he slowly took his dagger from his belt and handed it over.

  Cobaaron was smiling when she came back into the room. “I thought you were leaving.”

  “No, I don’t want to be a weapon. Although you really should carry one of these.”

  “I would never; the best warriors don’t need weapons. They use what is around them. It’s a great honor to have your chief take your weapon. Only the very best carry nothing.”

  “Well,” she handed him the dagger, “don’t cut deep.”

  Cobaaron pressed the blade tip to her palm. The sharp metal indented her skin. “Do it, before I get anxious about the pain.” He slashed the blade across her hand and the gash burned; Ky inhaled sharply from the anguish.

  Hot blood trickled out. Cobaaron stretched open her fingers, letting droplets pool together in her palm. He cut his palm. Her skin steamed and bubbled with boils and she screamed. He tightly clutched his bloody hand in hers.

  Searing blood seeped into his hand, making it glow brilliant red; his palm ignited. Cobaaron gritted his teeth and squeezed her hand. The fire flickered out, his hand lost its bright glow, and slowly the agony subsided. In its place, intense yearning overwhelmed her. She was desperate for him. He lured her nearer with a gentle tug on her hand. The simple gesture made her heart race.

  He somehow stole her breath as he leaned toward her, lowering his head. He lightly swept his mouth across her lips before kissing her with delicate but wild pleasure. She didn’t know how he could leisurely take her, when she was beside herself with need. He closed his mouth over her bottom lip for tender sucking. She hinted, wanting him to take the passion further by drawing her tongue along his lips. He welcomed a deeper kiss. A sugary taste of his fruit lingered on his tongue; she inhaled between open lips as he licked her tongue with delicious caresses. He captured her, body and soul, from the devotion and emotion expressed in his touch. Ky’s body relaxed against his, and she gave into her struggle of wanting more. Her knees weakened, but he held her tightly. He seized her mouth, savoring and stroking her tongue as she whimpered with irresistible desire. He tilted his head so their lips meshed perfectly and then groaned deep in her mouth. The sweet sample was suddenly not enough. Ky felt the rush of compulsion, desperation, and need fill her. Their kiss was too erotic, and the union’s pull was too strong to fight. Then like a wave of lust, the union crashed sexual yearning over her with such power she couldn’t think. It seemed out of place, because she felt stronger for him than pure lust. Yet she couldn’t subdue it. She was hot and craved his sex; the very idea of fondling his shaft made her wet.

  Immediately Cobaaron’s necessity matched hers with equal haste and hunger. With passion, he lifted her, not letting them part from their kiss. She wrapped her legs around him, and held onto the nape of his neck, despairing even an inch of distance. He carried her to a table, recklessly knocking chairs to the floor with uncontainable lust before he broke the kiss. “I don’t have control.” He sounded as befuddled between his urge for sex and disappointment he couldn’t keep his greed under control and full attention on her.

  He sat her on the edge of the table. While keeping eye contact, he gathered her dress, but she could see he was fighting the union and his hurried actions; he wanted to slowly remove her clothes, ease any vulnerability with doting affection, and make love to her, but knew he couldn’t slow down to do so.

  “Please,” she begged. He was too far away. She could endure anything but his distance.

  He shook with unease, and for a moment he managed to still his hands on her inner thighs; he fought to move at his own pace. “Please.” She didn’t have his discipline. She hungered for him, and licked her lips after pleading, “Please don’t stop.”

  His eyes darted to her tongue, watching it as if her act was the most seductive thing he’d ever seen. “I feel more than this,” he began, but leaned toward her as if he was pulled, and smelled her skin. Ky knew he was responsive to her scent, and enjoyed the intoxicating effect she had on him. “I’ve heard men talk nothing but vigorous sex and women keen on technique that is only wild in nature. I want to make love, not have emotionless, rough sex. But I’ll admit I want to guide your body, persuading you with mine. I want
to do as I wish to you, see you writhe with pleasure I’m causing, see how my touch affects you, but I still want love. Vigor is for play when we’re comfortable, and we know our limits. For now I want what the union won’t let me have; I want this to be done in love not lust, or not at all,” he explained while he resisted in vain to keep his hands off her. With amazing restraint, he slowly lifted one of her legs, and ran his hand along her thigh, down to her calf, and then foot. She could see in his eyes he liked moving her, touching her, and caressing her skin.

  He rubbed her foot, placed her heel on his chest, and focused his attentive fingers on her toes. He massaged with light pressure in small circles, and then slipped his thumbs to the bottom of her foot, and worked his way to her heel. She reeled in pleasure, amazed that touching her feet could have such arousing effects. He continued to rub as he said, “Hearing so much has taught me the map of a woman. This is a pleasure point. You have at least eight that I know of.” He watched her squirm and whimper as he gradually increased the pressure. He kneaded with tantalizing and unhurried strokes. His touch caused hot desire to mount along with her anticipation for him to fill her with his sex. “I want to touch all eight, and show you that you can trust me to hold sway over you.”

  She relaxed, letting him take control. He held her ankle, used his palm and rubbed it up her inner leg. He squeezed and nibbled her calf, and then dipped below her knee as he raised her leg. With feather light lips, he kissed and licked the smooth skin behind her knee. Because she loved it, he lingered. “This is another pleasure point,” he spoke against her skin. She tried saying his name, and tell him how much she loved it, but his lips skimmed up toward her inner thighs, and she was breathless. He held her ankle tighter when she trembled.

  He gradually made his way up her leg, and squeezed her inner thigh while he gently bit the other. With his nose, he rounded up the crease of her leg. He stood upright, pressed the heel of his palm against the line he drew with his nose, and leaned in with his weight onto the third pleasure point. She could feel warmth growing inside her. “This feels so good.”