by Faulks, Kim
Sevan
Zodiac Dragon Guardians, Book XI
Kim Faulks
Cover Designer
Jacqueline Sweet
Copyright © 2019 by Kim Faulks
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.
Created with Vellum
I would’ve been lost with this one without my team; Cassie, Tania, Michelle and Jess. You guys really helped me though this one. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
But this one is for my Dragon readers. You’ve waited a long time. I hope I’ve done Sevan justice. Thank you for your loyalty. Bring on the Dragons.
Contents
Introduction
1. Artemas
2. Kalliste
3. Kalliste
4. Artemas
5. Kalliste
6. Kalliste
7. Artemas
8. Artemas
9. Kalliste
10. Artemas
11. Kalliste
12. Artemas
13. Kalliste
14. Artemas
15. Kalliste
16. Artemas
17. Kalliste
18. Artemas
19. Artemas
Epilogue
Thank you!
My name is Artemas Roth.
But those who fear me call me Sevan.
And I’m stepping out of the shadows.
Ready to face the murderers who killed my wife all those years ago.
And save a Princess.
Kalliste Knox of the Royal Hellhound line
But those who took everything from me will fight to the end.
They’ll force me to become something I’d fought my entire life not to be.
A Hellhound…
A killer…
A beast…
1
Artemas
One day before...
My wife stood behind a podium, tall…powerful. Brown eyes alight with purpose as she learned closer to the microphone, perfect lips moving…
Only I couldn’t hear her words.
Silence waited for me.
Cold, terrifying silence.
I jerked my gaze to the crowd as fear took flight, beating wings inside my chest. Those in the packed conference room were entranced with her words, nodding...smiling.
It was only me who couldn’t hear her...only me who couldn’t hear a thing. Something’s not right...I swallowed hard and took a step forward. “Margaret?”
There was no turn of her head, no slowing of her lips as I barged into the back of a man in the crowd. I tried to push through, tried to get to her.
I needed to get to her.
“Move,” I speared my hand between him and the woman beside him and snarled. “Move out of the way.”
But they never stepped aside, only jolted forward with the shove. I tried again. Panic rose inside me, making me sweat, making me tremble as I pushed once more. “Please, just let me through.”
Something hovered on the edge of my memories...a sense of familiar. I’d lived this panic, lived this pain…I lifted my gaze to her. I can’t get to her, not now…not ever.
I shoved against the wall of bodies as the glint of steel caught my eye. A man in front reached inside his jacket and slowly dragged a gun free. Silver sparkled neon bright as his fist clenched around the grip, as his finger found a home against the trigger.
My heart lunged at the sight, pulse hammered filling my head with the roar. “No!”
Bright colors dulled. The conference room bled to ash and white.
Margaret stopped speaking and turned her head. Brown eyes pierced me as her lips smashed tight and then twisted with agony, and that sense of reliving surged once more.
It was meant to be this way, she whispered inside my head. Blood bloomed in the center of her chest. Vibrant and red, consuming her blouse. It was always meant to be this way.
“Margaret!” I grasped the bastard in my way and shoved. “Margaret! MARGARET!”
But they never moved, only turned to stare at me. In their eyes I saw hate and rage and pain…they hated me. I knew that now. They all hated me…I lifted my head to those perfect brown eyes once more, and saw the same reflection in my wife.
They blamed me for failing Margaret.
And the Queen…
THE QUEEN...
I bolted upright, heart pounding, her name ringing in the dark.
Emptiness waited with shuddered breaths.
Margaret was gone…
I closed my eyes as grief closed in.
She was…gone.
Agony plunged a blade in my chest. I released the fisted sheets to slam my fingers against the ache. My nails slipped against sweat-drenched skin. The stench of my own terror was bitter and foul lingering in the air.
Gone.
I cast the tangled comforter aside and shoved my ass along the mattress until my feet hit the floor, and, as always, it took me a while to stand.
My knees trembled and tears welled, pain felt like a fist rammed down my throat. I tried to swallow, tried to breathe, tried to push away the pain, and forget.
But I could no more forget her than I could carve out my own damn heart.
Tears welled in my eyes as I took the first step. It was always the hardest. The first step, the first second where I realized she wasn’t with me anymore.
And it was all my fault. All of it...
My steps stilled. I reached for the wall as one knee buckled and a sob tore free. I stumbled under the sheen of tears, feeling my way by memory alone until my hand hit the doorway.
A groan worked around the lump in my throat, deep and tormented, sounding like a beast...no...like a Hound.
I shoved from the doorway, stumbling along the hall until I punched the switch.
Soft white light spilled from the kitchen. Crystal sparkled from the cupboards as my bare feet slapped the tiled floor. My hand shook as I clawed the cupboard and dragged an open bottle free.
There was no need for a glass...not on nights like this.
Bad one, huh?
I stilled at the sound of her voice, even though I knew it was a lie. “Yeah,” the whisper burned, “it was a bad one.”
How much longer are you going to keep doing this, Artemas? she whispered, her voice tainted with sorrow.
I lifted the bottle to my lips and took a long, hard draw. Fire plunged down my throat. I didn’t answer, not for a long time, not while I swallowed...and swallowed and...swallowed, until I turned to look at her.
It’d taken me years to get here, to stand in her ghostly presence, and not fall to my knees.
She waited for me, like she always did, standing in front of the massive windows that overlooked the city. I was rocked by how beautiful she was, how earth-shatteringly perfect. She stood there, arms hugging each other, dressed in the same cream-colored pants suit she always wore when she came to me this way.
How much longer, Artemas?
“As long as it takes.” I answered and took another draw of the bottle.
Sadness sparkled in her eyes. She looked at me with disappointment.
I turned away. I knew that look well.
When I lifted my gaze again, she was gone, and that ache spread through my chest once more. The glinting city lights blurred as I lifted the mouth of the bottle to my lips once more.
But the heat of the Scotch never lasted, nor did the Scotch. I turned, took a step toward the bench, and slid the empty bottle onto the counter.
Night still claimed the city, the sun wouldn’t rise for hours. But there was no more sleep for me, not tonight. Maybe not ever. I rubbed the grit in my eyes and felt the sting. I hadn’t slept, not real sleep...not since I lost her.
You didn’t lose her, you pathetic piece of shit. The words slipped into my mind.
I didn’t answer them, didn’t shove them away. Instead, they carried me along the hall once more and into the en suite.
I showered, letting the steam fill the bathroom. But there was no amount of hot water to scrub the guilt from my soul, and after a while, I turned and hit the taps, ending the scalding spray.
Water beaded on red skin. I dragged a towel along my body and then strode from the bathroom and to the closet. I hit the switch, and the overhead lights lit up the space. Haunted eyes caught my stare in the full-length mirror at the end of the walk-in. I glanced at her side of the room, to the shelves of folded cashmere, and the perfect suits. To her diamonds and emeralds sparkling in the glass-fronted drawers underneath, until the pain raked its claws along my soul.
I couldn’t look at them, not anymore. Not like this. That haunted man waited for me, standing bare, with hard muscles and hateful eyes. “I fucking hate you.” My own voice resounded. “Spineless. Weak. You did this. You...fucking did this!”
Fingers curled into fists. Rage spilled hot, infernal...and familiar.
My lips curled, teeth bared, as I took a step toward that sight. “I fucking hate you.” Closer… “Do you hear me? I fucking hate you!”
My breaths sawed, hacking and cleaving as my rage filled the dressing room.
“You took her from me.” I stepped closer. “You fucking took her from me!”
Lips curled, only this time it was a sneer. There was a flicker of blue, like the belly of the hottest flame that still burned, and a growl reverberated in my chest.
Panic flared as I stumbled backwards.
No...no...no no.
My fingers grasped air, then found something hard, before I threw.
Glass smashed, raining shards onto the carpet. The deafening sound filled the room. I sucked in hard breaths, staring at the mess. My reflection glinted from the glittering pieces, bare skin.
But there was nothing…
No embers staring back at me.
No beast lurking in the shadows.
My knees trembled as I crouched and grasped a large sliver of glass. My face stung from flying slivers. Still, I searched for that beast who waited inside. But there was nothing but the drip of blood that fell from my face to splatter the glass. Nothing but the silence. Nothing but fear.
I dropped the sliver and shoved to stand, staring at the mess I’d made. Fragments were scattered across the tiled floor. I turned and grabbed underwear and sweats, stepping into them before I yanked a shirt over my head.
I cleaned up the mess, sweeping the glass into a corner, and searched for the damn vacuum. But this house was as much of a stranger to me as my own damn life. I lived here, without really living. I existed within these walls until the days blurred.
When I exhausted the search, I left a note for the cleaner, grabbed my trainers, and left. I hit the remote for the Chrysler and climbed in. Fifteen minutes of driving through empty city streets, and I swung into the entrance to the guarded underground parking lot.
The sensor on the dash flashed, and the roller door opened.
“Senator,” the guard opened his window. “Can’t sleep again?”
I forced a smile. “It’s becoming a habit, isn’t it, Gus?”
“Yes, sir.”
I gave him a nod as the roller door finished rising and I eased the car through. It was a habit, one I just couldn’t break. The days for me were the same; the nightmare, the drinking, then I ran, until the hours passed or I burned out the motor on yet another treadmill.
I traded one punishment for another, endless meetings, tiring conferences, blurred, vacant stares, and false smiles. I pushed through it all...dreading the night to come.
But for now, I’d run...for now I’d find freedom in movement, and I’d hope. Maybe tonight would be different. Maybe tonight things might change.
I swung the car into the parking spot. Headlights splashed against the brick wall then died, and I climbed out. I hit the remote and made for the bank of elevators, the one that’d take me to my office.
I’d made a promise to Margaret that day, a promise to keep fighting for as long as I could. I made a promise to smile, to cheat my way into office, pretending to be someone I wasn’t--not really.
I worked for the people of Flinders City. I fought for them. I bled for them. I tried to give the people a voice--but behind the scenes, I tried to do the one thing Margaret couldn’t.
I tried to give the shifters a voice, tried to make those in power see what they refused to see. I tried to fight for them...tried to protect them, tried to do all the things I couldn’t before, all behind the safety of this face.
I stepped inside as the elevator door opened and then closed behind me. I swallowed hard, lifting my gaze as the car carried me higher.
Brown eyes seized mine. My gut tightened, fear rose up the back of my throat. I tried to see that pulse of red, like a heart that refused to die. But there was nothing, just sadness...just guilt. I looked to the floor as the elevator slowed and then came to a stop on the fifth floor of my building.
The doors opened, the overhead lights buzzed. I walked the lonely hallway to the end and shoved through the glass doors. One flick of the lights and the gymnasium came alive. I punched the buttons for the sound system, filling the void with a brutal beat.
Keep myself fit, keep myself punished. That’s all I thought about. I strode to the locker room door and pushed through. One press of my thumb and I strode into a separate room, one designed especially for me. The wardrobe waited to the right of the massive bathroom. I had everything I needed here, suits and shoes, clothes for every attire. But right now, I just needed to run.
And keep on running.
I closed the locker and opened the refrigerator, grabbing a bottle of water from the door. My muscles twitched, ready for the punishment. The warmth of the Scotch was long gone, burned away in the fire of my blood.
No matter how many miles I ran, I couldn’t outrun that. I crossed the room, hit the button on the treadmill, and punched the speed up. I lost myself in the heavy thud of my feet hitting the belt.
Minutes slipped into hours, listening to my dead wife’s words resounding in my head. How much longer, Artemas? How much longer?
I had no answer. I never really did.
All I had was this.
Sweat ran into my eyes. Savage breaths ripped like claws through my throat. I sucked in the air and reached out, punching the buttons until the speed maxed out. I ran until the sky brightened through the windows. I ran until the first car pulled into the parking lot, and then I slowed, winding down, until I stabbed the button and ended the run.
The bitter stench of burning electrical filled the air as I stepped down. My legs trembled, thighs on fire, as I grasped a rolled towel from the bench and the unopened water. I drank the contents, then made my way to the separate bathroom and, as I dropped my sweat-soaked clothes and stepped out of my worn runners, I felt exhaustion move a little closer.
The ache wasn’t done yet, not by a long shot. But as I stepped into the searing water once more, I could finally breathe. I showered, stepped out, and used the razor, stilling as the thud of lockers closed outside.
I timed her, knowing her movements by sound alone. Jessica was a driven young woman, and she was also infatuated by someone not worthy of her desire. I dressed as she changed the music to something a little less heavy, and left the bathroom.
“Mr. Roth,” she greeted me with a smile as I stepped out.
“Ms. Young,” I gave her a slow nod, forcing my lips to curl just a little. “Enjoy your day.”
“Thank you, Mr. Roth,” she murmured and took a step toward me.
&nbs
p; But I just turned, like I always did. My steps couldn’t carry me out of there fast enough. I pushed through the glass door and headed to the elevator once more, losing myself until I stepped out onto the tenth floor.
“Good morning, Mr. Roth.” Briene rose from her seat as I stepped through the door. “Your eight o’clock meeting has been pushed to nine. I’ve had to shuffle your calendar, but you’ll make your conference this afternoon at the Emporium. I’ll have Stedman make sure you’re there on time.”
I gave her a nod and grabbed the stack of papers on her desk for me to check over.
“And sir,” she murmured and stepped closer, “I just want to say…”
I closed my eyes for a second, and then opened them once more. “Yes?”
My assistant shifted her stance, then cleared her throat.
I didn’t dare look at her, didn’t dare see her pain. “It’s okay, Briene. It’s okay.”
My fingers dug into the folders as I turned and left her behind. I strode along the corridor and pushed through the glass doors to my office. Pictures of her lined the walls. Smiling, happy...standing in the middle of cleared land with a sign at her side, Soteria.
It means safe, Artemas. That’s what they’ll be when they live here...they’ll be safe. Together, we’ll make them safe.
I turned away from the image as a frigid breeze slipped across my skin.
I jerked my gaze over my shoulder and glanced along the hallway to Briene’s desk at the end. Goosebumps danced across my skin...like someone was watching me.
But no one stepped into the office, no one waited in the waiting room.
There was no one here...no one but me...
I turned inwards, to the cold steel wall inside my mind, and sent a flare out into the dark. But as always, there was just silence, brooding, bitter silence. “Losing my goddamn mind.”
