“And forsake my responsibility to my people?”
Stunned, she blinked back her tears furiously. “Forsake them? You forsook them the moment you claimed me!”
“Aye,” he shot passionately. “That I did leech. Because you are my mate. And I would do it again if given the chance. That I have betrayed their trust to protect you, that they will be hunted to extinction now simply because of us does not make it right. At least they should know the truth.”
“And if you are killed?”
“I won’t be.”
She turned away and buried her face in the pillow. The agony in her chest outweighed the sting in her back. “If that is your decision, then I come with you.”
“Don’t be absurd. You will not make it to the gates.”
“If they kill you then I am as good as dead!” she hissed, eyes clenched tightly. “Why did you save me only to leave me? And your son? Does he mean nothing to you?”
“Have a care how you speak to me leech,” he warned darkly, a quiver in his voice. “And I said naught of leaving you. I have a duty to them. Do you not ken?”
“You have a duty to me.”
“Ach lass,” he murmured, sinking into the mattress to nuzzle her ear. “That I do. But I will not allow myself to be killed when I have you waiting upon me, naked as you are in my bed.” The palm of his hand cupped her slightly protruding stomach and stroked there tenderly. “Trust me when I say, once you are safe I will return.”
She pulled away from his caress. “I do not believe you.”
Graeme clutched her chin and forced her face to meet his. Her eyes were swamped with unshed tears. “I love you. Do you not yet know that much?”
Her gasp was cut short by the thorough abuse of his lips. She clung to him, her knuckles white with the effort. “I love you too.”
An arrogant brow lifted. “Good. Then trust me.”
Eyes closed, she took a deep breath. “I trust you. But I do not trust the horde.”
Fingers entwined, the held each other close that night, lost in thought and taking comfort in each other’s arms.
Chapter Twenty
Graeme secured the weapon upon his back and turned to face the Hunter that entered the room. To his left, Amarinda slept peacefully. Her cheeks were blushed a healthy pink, the aftermath of an early breakfast when he stirred before the dawn. Beside her, the child slept, unaware of the danger they faced.
"You are leaving without waking her." Vilirus's accusatory tone did nothing to sooth Graeme's already agitated state.
"Do not think to question the decisions I make for my family boy," he growled menacingly. "I leave quietly because she won't make this easy. All you have to do is get her to Edinburgh and keep her safe until I arrive. That shouldn't be too hard."
"She deserves to know."
"Knowing and doing are two different things."
He felt the older man's eyes on him even as he leaned forward to press his lips to her forehead and to consider his son tenderly. When he made his way to the door it was to motion Vilirus to follow him.
“Take the mountain path. It is less likely you will come upon any travelers that way.”
“How long before you send word?”
“As soon as it is safe.”
Graeme ran his hand over his face and grunted. Vilirus did not wait for him to state his approval, but continued speaking instead. “When we arrive, I will send you word.”
His fingers snatched the material of his sleeve and he jerked him near, nose almost touching. “If anything happens to them, make no mistake, I will kill you.”
Vilirus jerked his arm away but did not back down. “If anything happens to them it means I am already dead. It is time. The sun is about to rise.”
Graeme cast another look at the slumbering form of his mate before pulling the door closed. The warmth of the rising sun seeped into his pores, and he inhaled the fresh sent of spring, crisp and light and full of promise. He mounted wordlessly, and it was with urgent resolve did he run the horses throughout the day, not stopping to rest or eat. By the time the stronghold came into sight, he exhaled heavily.
The castle was dark and menacing, with no moon to light his path. No torch burned, not a sound could be heard, and for a moment Graeme thought he was too late, that the horde had already scattered, until he spotted swift movement on the battlement above.
“Open the gate keeper. It is Graeme who seeks entrance!”
His bellow must have echoed throughout the yard, for many heads appeared, staring him down from upon the walls, arrows at the ready even as they identified him. The keeper paused before opening the heavy gate, then made the leap to the ground to block the path of his leader. He was an elderly Were, for faint wrinkles graced his features. Graeme’s expression became stoic as the man audaciously lifted a torch to his face to look at him closely.
“Are ye satisfied it is I?” he grunted.
“Aye.”
“Can I come into my own home then?”
A semi toothless grin greeted him. “Oh aye. Ye can come in. I daresay the horde will be real cherry to see you now that ye’ve decided to come back.”
“Leave off old man. I told you he had something important to see to,” Rhys snapped and pushed forward from the shadows.
“Aye.”
They got to the center of the yard before Graeme’s voice reached his ear. “Wait.”
Stones crunched beneath the weight of his step as he advanced, cautious, eyes sharp, hackles raised. It was not the stench of vampires that assailed him, but the sense of pure rage. Rhys started to reach for his sword, but his hand stopped him gently. His men had a right to feel angry. He could not fault them.
“Light the torches,” came his command. Nothing moved in the shadows. Only the gatekeeper moved to obey. “By the gods, I said light the damn torches!”
Slowly, each torch was lit, and with its brilliant light, he was able to get a look at the men. Many did not approach him, but chose to simply wait for the explanation he knew he had to give. A frown pleated his forehead as he scanned the yard.
“Where are the others?”
“Gone,” an anonymous voice offered simply.
“Gone? What happened here?”
“Men returned with stories of a village burned to the north. Of women and children slaughtered. Many lost families.”
“Aye. There is truth to the tale.”
“Is it also true then that a babe was found with the general, broken and left for dead by the vampires?” another voice echoed harshly in the silence.
Graeme stiffened his spine. “Aye.”
Several Weres stepped forward, their eyes burning in rage. “What about the rumors that you have taken a vampire mate? That you have kept her here, beneath our very noses for an entire season? That there is a child born of such a union?”
Rhys’ blades sang and resonated when he swiftly slipped them from their cases, both hands occupied. One came to rest unapologetically against the jugular of the man who had spoken last.
“You would dare interrogate our king as if he were a lowly dog like yourself boy?”
Graeme stepped forward boldly, his eyes scanning the thick crowd as more of his men appeared from inside.
“There is much to tell you,” he began gruffly, unaccustomed to the show of emotion in-front of so many. “But I do not have the time nor the words to make what I have done go away or change. Everything that you heard, much of it is accurate. A vampire female was brought to me several moons ago –“
“She did not die in the sunlight!” another voice offered from the edge of the crowd.
“No she did not.”
“They have evolved!”
“I told you. Since the beginning I suspected something was wrong.”
“We are all going to die!”
“He is responsible for the attacks!”
“Silence!” Rhys roar had the desired effect, his eyes wicked flames of orange and gold. “All of you will shut up and listen
to what is said, or so help me I will sever the head of anyone who disobeys!”
Graeme grunted his approval at their clamped lips and continued. “I have discovered many secrets. One of which none of us knew until now. It is possible for them to find mates with humans.” A thick mumble went through the crowd. “That is why she cannot be killed by the sunlight. A gift inherited by her mother, it would seem.”
“Vampires do not mate with their food,” someone was brave enough to snicker.
“And Weres do not mate with the enemy, yet here I am. Mated.” Another wave of whispers. “I did not choose her. Fate did.”
“It is unheard of,” someone offered uncertainly. “Besides, they stink.”
Gruff chuckles echoed in the silent night. Graeme nodded. “I assure you it is like any other mating. To anyone else yes, but not to me.”
“We have been at war for years to numerous to count. With you mated to one of their females, what do we do now?”
Graeme rubbed the sore spot of his chest at the thought of his family and nodded. “We are still at war – one that will test our strength, one that I do not want to shatter us as a people. But I ask you to fight with me as you have done in the past.”
“Why should I give my life for a leader who has done nothing but lie to me from the start?”
Rhys pressed the blade a little deeper into the man’s throat, for he spoke with more than anger, but also heavy disrespect.
“I did nothing any one of you would not have done if you were in my position. Those of you who are mated know full well the mating heat and the bond. You will kill anyone who tries to take her away from you. And those of you who are not yet mated and have seen many years on this earth hopes each day that the Fates deliver her into your arms so you can finally have something more than war to live for. I will not apologize for finding my mate, vampire or not. If you cannot accept her or understand, I cannot force you to stay or even fight. But hear me well – it makes no difference to the vampires who rally themselves for war whether you agree with me or not. They come. And when they get here they will be out for blood. Your children, your sires, your women will bleed beneath their blades. Only you can determine whether or not they live or die, whether or not you fight.”
It was a long time coming before several men stepped forward. One of them met Graeme’s eyes squarely and nodded, finding whatever he sought there. “You saved my life once on the battlefield,” he confessed. “I doubt you even recall, and I too am mated just last fall. A babe grows in her belly. I will fight for her, and also to repay my debt to you.”
Graeme clasped his hand and squeezed hard. One by one they came forward until many who had been lingering inside also faced him. When Graeme looked up, he realized there was no one who would turn away except the insolent pup who could not move under his general’s blade.
“And you? Do you have no one to fight for?” he asked softly.
“I will not fight for a vampire!”
“That vampire is your queen whelp,” Rhys snarled, kicking him squarely. His bottom hit the ground in a harsh reminder of his place. “And you have just proven that she had more fight in her than you do.”
“Rhys,” Graeme warned. He was ignored fully when his general faced the men, eyes iridescent.
“I was there at the birthing of the babe,” he choked out, voice made thick with emotion. “I was there when she fought, when she was taken, when they tossed the wee pup over the bridge as if it did not deserve a chance at life. I was there when we marched into vampire territory to get her back, and what we bargained and found…”
“Rhys-“
“They whipped her like an animal for choosing us.” Gasps and shocked curses filled the air. “And I say us because that is what she did when she killed one of her own, when she chose to stay with Graeme even when she knew it would cost her life. Well I chose her. And if any of you miscreants have the pleasure of meeting her, you will no doubt say the same.”
The boy got to his feet slowly and dusted his leggings before snorting. “I will fight,” he grumbled. “But for the man next to me.”
Graeme nodded, his chest full of satisfaction. “We are few, and will not be able to defeat them with so little. Send scouts to the other hordes – those to the west, those to the east. Tell them my story. Let their respective kings and chiefs decide what must be done. Let them know if they will not fight, they will be hunted by our enemy.”
The men nodded and scattered to do what needed to be done. Graeme gripped Rhys’ shoulder and squeezed before clapping him on the shoulder. “That went better than I thought. She will be quite upset that you have made her shame public.”
He shook his head, now under control. “They needed to know that she bled for them – for you. Tis no shame in marks of war.”
Graeme smiled. “Come. There is much to plan and little time to do so.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Two Weeks Later
The vampires came like shadows in the night, wraiths that crossed the valley like soulless ghosts. No sound was made as they swiftly climbed the castle walls and flooded the courtyard. Dogs barked and snarled at the intruders. Like ants they invaded the castle, armed, deadly. Only when less than a hundred were left in the valley did Graeme give the signal for the archers to release their arrows. Arrows directed toward the stronghold that many called home. Like meteors falling from the sky they lit the heavens and crashed into the barrels of oil they strategically placed along the castle walls. The first explosion was heard, followed by the definite shouts of panic and horror from within. Again the second attack of arrows was launched from the dense cover of trees to the front. Hundreds of arrows, merciless, deadly. Screams of agony echoed in the night, but Graeme said nothing as he watched his home burn to the ground. Rhys gave the signal for yet another release of arrows, flood after flood until those who were not killed in the attack and managed to escape the flames retreated onto the field in shock at the numbers lost in so little time.
“Those who have escaped the flames, let them live.”
Rhys frowned at his words, eyes glowing in the night. “We can run them through. The survivors are only a few.”
“Then we cannot start the rumors of the mercy of the Weres now, can we?”
“They would not show us mercy.”
“That is so. And let them know it. Let them go back and tell the Covens I have no desire to continue this fight as it is clear who the victor is, that I take no pleasure in bloodshed, especially since I honor my mate with sparing their lives.”
Rhys nodded and summoned a score of his men to follow his lead. Graeme watched as the fire destroyed the stronghold. The wind took the black smoke further north. Out of the several hordes he sent his emissaries to, only one chose to fight beside him, bringing with him three hundred strong. It was this chief who suggested he destroy the castle, for it was done in the days of old when strongholds were smaller and the need to eradicate a much larger foe proved fatal and sure. It was madness he argued. It would defeat the purpose of a defense. Then he looked at the faces around him, of the men who knew his tale and still chose to fight at his side, and knew they would never be safe here. Having a mate this close to vampire territory would be like adding salt to a wound that would never heal. He was advised to settle elsewhere, somewhere far, somewhere his people and his family would be safe.
“My land and my people welcome you to stay with us until you have found a place worthy to settle.”
Graeme glanced at the Were beside him on horseback and nodded. Bjorn was a descendent of the northern tribes, large and blonde with a long beard that held many war braids, and markings that covered one side of his face. In taking a princess to the north as his mate, he understood the challenges Graeme faced, and sympathized with him.
“I thank you, but this is our home. We will rebuild, and we will be stronger because of it.”
Bjorn nodded, his eyes bright with understanding. “Then I leave half of my men to assist with the task ahead
. When I return I will send supplies to aid as well. But in return I request to one day meet this vampire mate of yours.”
Graeme smiled and offered his arm. “Agreed.”
Bjorn shook it firmly and signaled for only half his men to follow in his wake. As they rode off, he considered the respect he saw on the faces of the men standing around him. Not a single Were life was lost and none was wounded. He counted this a victory indeed.
“Go to the coast and spend time with your families. We begin rebuilding in a fortnight.”
“And you?” someone asked.
He turned to the south and felt a small smile pull at his lips. “I am going to bring my mate home.”
“You must not ride alone. Although you have spared many lives, not all vampires would accept your attempt at mercy.”
He nodded. “Indeed. Rhys and his men will accompany me on the journey. In the meantime I charge you with protecting the boarders and keeping our people safe.”
They nodded their understanding and disappeared in the thick forest. Only two stayed at his back for protection, a fact he did not chastise them for, even when Rhys returned hours later and the fire to the castle continued to do a slow burn.
“Do we douse the flames?” he inquired, unsnapping the clasp that held his furs secured.
“Nay. Let it cleanse the keep. It will die on its own.” He turned his mount around and led them higher into the hills where a temporary shelter was built. The morning sun doused the mountains with warmth. “Appoint to me a few men. I am going to retrieve Amarinda.”
Rhys scowled and shook his head before Graeme could continue. “Nay. You are needed here to supervise what must be done. I will retrieve her.”
Graeme cut him an amused glance. “The last time I begged such a favor it was not well received.”
“I could not accept her as your mate then.”
“And now?”
“It goes without saying.”
Graeme grinned boyishly. “Then you leave as soon as you are fed and rested. I know she will be well cared for.”
The Sanction Page 16
