Paladin Rising (The Paladin's Curse Book 1)

by Kristell Carnie

  His soft moans urge me on and I don’t hold back, kissing him with unadulterated passion, my steaming hands trailing down his back, feeling every well-defined muscle and making my heart pump faster.

  His body relaxes, slumping onto mine and for a moment I don’t notice how his moans have taken on a tight painful quality. His body leans heavily against me, the weight dragging me out of the lust filled trance I am under.

  One look at Blay’s ashen face covered with a thin veil of sweat and I know that something is terribly wrong.

  His muscular body is too heavy for me to hold up and with what little strength I have, I half guide, half drop him onto the floor.

  Blay makes no attempt to move, his moans dissipating until he makes no sound at all. I reach out a shaking hand to touch his sickly pale skin. The sheer heat radiating off of him is not natural and brings forth a whole new range of fear.

  “Blay?” my strangled voice barely leaves my throat. “Blay, answer me!”

  I shake his shoulder violently, my fingers digging into his flesh enough to cause pain if he was even remotely conscious. A tingling starts in my fingertips and I pull back, not wanting to activate my talons.

  Blay’s head drops to the side; his breath coming in shallow little gasps, wheezing in and out of his burning throat with exaggerated effort.

  I don’t know what to do, how to stop whatever it is that’s happening to him. I glance around desperately trying to find water, or anything I can use to cool him down, but it’s useless, there is nothing here that can save him, just me and I am worse than nothing.

  Tortured screams surround me, consuming every space, accusing me of being the monster that I am and I wait, wait for whoever it is that is screaming to condemn me, to put me out of my misery because surely nothing can hurt worse than when my heart rips out of my aching chest as Blay takes his last pitiful breath and knowing that I’m the one who killed him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The pounding of footsteps advancing barely reaches me over the continuous screaming that I’ve only now come to realise is from me.

  Shadows swarm my vision; everything fading to the murky blackness of despair, the only thing I can focus on is Blay. Blay’s lifeless body, his face deathly pale, the pink hue of his lips distorting to a blistering red, his skin no longer showing signs of sweat, instead it is dry, so dry that I swear it would crack if I dared to touch him.

  But I don’t. I sit back, huddled on the floor, my knees drawn to my chest while my arms hang on for dear life.

  I can’t touch him; I can’t cause any more damage. It is because of me that Blay is comatose on the floor, I know it is.

  My heat, the burning lust which had spread through me in such rapid succession had fuelled me on, distinguishing all of my worries and eliminating my resolve. Somehow it had hurt Blay, reduced him to the lifeless body before me.

  It is all my fault. I am a monster. I can’t be trusted.

  “My Lady!” Zaneth’s voice barely reaches me in my near catatonic state.

  Even as images of Zaneth crouching above Blay’s body, feeling for signs of life, fill my mind I can’t make sense of them.

  I’m already shutting down into self-protection mode. Allowing my mind to hide away in a small self-loathing space where nothing can hurt me more than I am already torturing myself.

  A sharp sting across my cheek has me coming back to life. Zaneth draws his hand back, ready to slap me again if I need the motivation.

  As soon as he sees clarity filling my eyes he starts shouting in a tone that will not allow me to retreat into the safety of my mind again.

  “Rayna! Snap out of it! He’s breathing, but you have to move quickly. In the plantation break off a large Jalooniem stem, bring it to me and hurry!”

  Zaneth cups the back of Blay’s head in one of his large hands, opening his mouth, making the corners of his lips crack.

  “Go, now!”

  Jumping to my feet I ignore the fear desperate to control me, thinking only of saving Blay’s life, no matter how small the odds, I’ve got to take them.

  Halfway down the path Zaneth’s order brings me to a halt.

  “What’s a Jalooniem stem?” I yell back, fear distorting my voice until it’s barely recognisable.

  “It’s the pink plant with tiny orange flowers.”

  It doesn’t take long to spot it; half of the room is filled with them. I grab for the biggest one I find, nearly ripping the entire plant out in my haste. The sweet scent of berries mixed with vanilla wafts through the air as I snap a stem clean from the plant.

  I am back, kneeling at Blay’s side within a heartbeat, uselessly fluttering above him, not knowing what to do.

  “Crush the stem and drip the sap into his mouth.” The cutting edge to Zaneth’s words shows he is just as worried as I am.

  I can only hope that Zaneth has some idea of what he’s doing because my faith in the ability of plant sap is very low.

  My shaking fingers squeeze the stem, bringing forth sweet-smelling nectar gushing out and I’m careful not to touch Blay as I drip it into his parched throat.

  Endless minutes tick by as we wait for some kind of reaction, any indication that this absurd treatment is working.

  I can feel the tendrils of fear beckoning me back, eager for me to relinquish the small hope that Zaneth has provided, but I push them back, refusing to cower away until all hope is lost.

  When Blay’s body shudders, Zaneth instantly pushes him onto his side, just as he erupts into violent hacking coughs.

  “My God, it’s working,” I say in disbelief as I watch colour slowly return to Blay’s cheeks, his tongue darting out to moisten his dry lips while he groggily blinks awake.

  Faster than I could have possibly imagined Zaneth helps Blay to sit up and I hand him the remaining stem which he quickly sucks dry. His breathing is still uneven and his eyes hold the haunted shadow of trauma, but he’s alive and that’s all that matters.

  “Are either one of you two going to tell me what just happened?” Zaneth directs his question to Blay. “Or do I have to guess why you nearly died and Rayna’s covered in blue lines?”

  The last lingering cloud of fog dissipates from my mind when I look down at my arm to see that the blue vein-like markings have returned with vengeance, etched into my skin, except this time they no longer stop at my forearms, they weave their brilliant blue light from my fingertips up my arm, covering my shoulder to seep into my chest before disappearing beneath my dress.

  In an absurdly random way they are beautiful – if you forget that they are wholly unnatural that is - like an artist has skilfully painted strips of light across my skin, entwining it like creepers of a vine to create a unique masterpiece.

  I don’t have time to register what is happening before Blay stands - far too fluidly for someone who almost died mere moments ago – comes to my side and wraps one arm around my shoulders before turning to face Zaneth.

  “Do I need to remind you of your sworn oath to protect Rayna?”

  Zaneth tilts his head, his eyes showing only intrigue and not the loathing I expect.

  “There is no question of where my loyalty lays, I am and will continue to be Rayna’s protector for as long as she wills me to be.”

  Blay stares at Zaneth, his unwavering moral strength mirrored in the other man’s face, until finally he nods, a simple declaration of trust, one that I hope Blay is certain of.

  Now my secret is going to lie in the hands of two men I barely know and I can’t help but wonder again how I managed to get myself into this situation.

  With the immediate threat over, I realise that Blay still has his arm around me and I pull back, a shiver running up my spine at my recklessness.

  Blay’s eyebrows shoot up when he reaches for me again and I take a step back.

  “You shouldn’t touch me.” I stare into Blay’s eyes, silently pleading for him to understand so I won’t have to utter the words that will make my reality true.

  “I
didn’t mean to, Blay, honestly I didn’t. I never wanted to hurt you, or anyone. It just happened, I don’t even know how.” I drop my eyes to my hands, watching as the blue lines fade with my increasing sadness, retreating to hibernate until the next time my ever changing body causes them to emerge yet again.

  I’m not sure what sets them off, although I don’t think it’s the bracelet that activates the reaction. No, the sensation that pulses through me while the blue lines decorate my skin is different to the bracelets simmering sinfulness. They are almost calming, healing my body and my mind, trying to soothe instead of infiltrating my system to take control over every aspect of myself like the bracelet seems intent on doing.

  Their sudden appearance after being cut with the swords, which bear the same markings as the bracelet, does leave me anxious though – anything that is similar in any way to the Zantronians can’t be safe can it?

  “It’s not your fault, Rayna, if anything it’s mine. You’re in an emotional state and we don’t know the extent of what is happening to you as of yet,” he pauses, slipping off his jacket to wrap it around my shoulders. The soft material holds his lingering warmth and his earthy scent, automatically calming my heart to a more natural rhythm.

  “I made you a promise, one that Zaneth will also upkeep, Rayna, and you made me one. Do you intend to keep it?”

  I stare at the ground where only minutes before he had lay dying and I know beyond a doubt that I can’t return home to Earth. I have to stay here, keep my distance from everyone until we uncover exactly what is happening to me and more importantly a way to stop it. Any other option is far too dangerous.

  “Yes.” The truth is I have no other choice.

  The niggling uncertainty of what will ultimately become plays on the back of my mind the entire way Blay and Zaneth escort me to my room.

  Blay keeps his arm around my waist even though I insist that he should keep his distance. A smile tugs at his lips as he calmly reminds me that he’s touched me many times before and nothing bad ever happened.

  I have to concede and agree with him, but that only throws up questions as to why this time it was different.

  Was it because we kissed or because deep down I wanted him so badly, badly enough to conjure some psychotic alien killer instinct?

  That theory doesn’t make sense; my desire for him has been rapidly growing, even if I didn’t want to admit it before. In the training room when his solid body had been pressed up against mine, his heart beating against my back while his heady scent filled my lungs and his breath tickled my neck I had wanted him, needed him – his strength, his touch, his desire – and in those moments my body hadn’t reacted by trying to kill him, why now?

  The only difference I can think of is before we kissed, I had felt different, light and carefree as if all my worries had been erased. I hadn’t analysed it at the time, why would I?

  The moment had felt wonderful, although now that I look back on it, there was a similarity in my emotion, that dreamy half aware state I have only ever experienced once before, in a moment where my life had nearly ended at the hands of the creature I hate more than I ever thought possible.

  I shake the absurd thoughts from my head, grateful to finally reach my room, needing some time alone to re-energise before Ellestra bombards me with every minuscule detail of her perfect night.

  Just before Blay turns to leave I stop him, unable to let him go without asking, “What was it – what did I actually do to you?”

  He sighs, shutting the door behind him, leaving Zaneth to stand guard, no doubt his mind running on overtime.

  “It’s hard to explain really.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “I guess it felt like I was being drained, like my insides were drying up.”

  My mind throws up images of his pale complexion, the sweat being replaced by dry, cracked skin and laboured breathing.

  “Extreme dehydration?” I guess it makes sense; the heat running through my body could have dried him out in a grotesquely rapid manner if it was vamped up enough.

  “Sure felt like it.” A mocking smile lightens his face. “I guess I will have to start carrying Jalooniem whenever I’m around you.”

  I let his sarcastic joke slide off of me, too intrigued to get offended by the truth behind his words.

  “The Jalooniem stem, it saved you. Without it, you would have died. What is it exactly?”

  Seriousness converts his face back into the stoic expression that is far more common to him.

  “Jalooniem is our most powerful plant, it is a healing tree. Its nectar can heal almost anything, far faster than our bodies can heal on their own. It is what we used to save you, along with some other methods, when you first arrived from Zantron. Each day we consume a small, watered down amount to keep us healthy and ready for battle.”

  The familiarity of the scent now makes sense; it is the addictive liquid I’ve craved ever since waking up here, only to be allowed a small cup every day. Now I can see why it’s limited, the stuff is much too powerful to have in large quantities.

  Although Blay’s joke of keeping some close at all times might actually be a good idea, and I know that I will have to sneak back down there to get more.

  “You should get some rest. I will let the guests know you are feeling unwell, and then I guess I will have to explain some things to Zaneth.”

  I hug Blay’s jacket close around me, already feeling his absence even though he hasn’t left the room, a spark of annoyance chastising me for relying on him when I know that I shouldn’t.

  As he turns to leave he hesitates, his hand gripping the door handle tightly before he faces me, looking me dead in the eyes, his voice a mix of dread and acceptance.

  “I need to ask you something, it doesn’t matter how you answer as long as it’s the truth.”

  I nod automatically, after everything he’s done for me he deserves the truth no matter what the question is.

  “Do you have any feelings for Calasis?”

  His steady gaze bores onto my face, searching for any flicker of reaction that may indicate my answer and grant him a second to inwardly prepare himself for the worst.

  Out of everything he could have asked me this was not what I expected, I’m certain the shock is clearly evident, yet he remains still as stone, waiting for the truth to leave my lips.

  “I can’t deny that Calasis is a great guy,” his eyes narrow slightly so I rush on, “and I’m sure, given the chance, we could be good friends, but that’s it. I’m not interested in him in any other way beyond that.”

  I didn’t realise how tense he was until his shoulders relax, his breath coming out in a sudden whoosh.

  His lips twitch into that rarely seen smile that sets my heart thumping against my ribs and I’m grateful when he leaves the room, leaving me behind in solitude because if he had of stayed, smiling at me like that, with those full soft lips, his eyes sparkling gently like I’d just made him the happiest guy in the entire world, then I don’t think I would have been able to stop from throwing myself at him, pressing my own lips to his and kissing him until his breath ran out once again.

  But no matter how sweet his lips tasted, I can’t ever get that close to him again. I won’t risk his life, not for anything.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sirens wake me from my nightmares, nightmares where Blay lies before me, crumbling to dust from my poisonous kiss and as his ashes blow away in the escalating storm I laugh, pure joy rippling through my strengthened body.

  When my vicious laugh morphs into the loud squealing of the sirens it takes a moment for the dream to clear and the realisation to sink in that Prytora is once again under attack.

  My heart is in my throat as I leap out of bed pulling on clothes just as Zaneth flings open the door, rushing towards me and roughly grabbing my arm, only a muttered ‘hurry’ hurled over his shoulder before he’s dragging me out the door.

  I don’t need much encouragement, I already know that it’s the Zantronians attacking again, I
can feel it, sense their presence like a cigarette being extinguished against my skin.

  I can feel them - that much I know for sure - but if I can feel them does that mean they too can feel me? That same thought that’s been ricocheting around my brain for days sends my feet pounding faster, I want to get to the panic room, I need to be safe.

  Within moments we catch up to Ellestra and her own guard, her face flushed from sleep, showing equal amounts of bewilderment and fear. I know mine must be plastered with the same emotions for when she sees me she steps back reaching for my hand and together we run the rest of the way, one guard in front of us, and one behind.

  Karadese already waits in the shelter, her shoulders squared, no sign of fear in her pale eyes. Glancing around quickly I see that once again Blay, Calasis and Araton don’t cower away with us. No doubt they will be at the front line, wherever that actually is, ready and willing to fight to the death if it comes down to it.

  This time Karadese doesn’t activate the Eidolon Eye and I’m pleased, I don’t think that I could sit through watching that again, not now, not after everything that has happened between Blay and myself. Seeing him at the edge of danger would be too much, it’s bad enough having to imagine what is happening out there as it is.

  By now I know the drill, all we can do is wait, go over in our minds what will come of us if the Zantronians do break through into this Realm, stifle the rising fear and plaster pretend smiles on our faces every time Ellestra glances at us.

  So that’s what we do, we wait, huddled together once more, for the earth shuddering booms to break through the protective barrier, for the Zantronians to be victorious and storm the land to kill us all.

  Yet they don’t.

  Just as quickly as it started, the attack stops. The world becomes eerily silent, utterly still as if everyone and everything are holding their breath, too scared to move in case it’s all a ruse.