Saamal rubbed a hand over his face. “Yes, Adonis?”
“You told me that you gave up half your power to this woman. Now you’re going to the astral plane, a realm where reality has less to do with what you see and feel than what you’re thinking and feeling.”
“And?”
The incubus’ eyes glowed red. “Remember who you are now. You are going to the astral plane to win the affections of the woman you would have as your bride. You desire to win her heart, to wake her up. Regardless of how you feel on the astral plane, however powerful and invincible you may feel, after you come back to the physical plane, you will be as you are now.” He face grew serious, all traces of humor gone. “The consequences of your actions on the astral plane will follow you here.”
“What are you talking about?” Saamal tried to keep his frustration in check, tried to remind himself that Adonis was only being cautious. He eyed the vial, already imagining himself on the astral plane, meeting Aiyana, speaking with her. He might be on the cusp of breaking a curse that had lasted over a century, why was the incubus dragging his feet now? The urge to throttle Adonis grew.
“He’s saying you’re going to feel like your old powerful self once you’re with the girl on the astral plane,” Etienne growled. “He’s warning you not to let the power go to your head and make you into the arrogant bastard that betrothed yourself to a child in order to get more power in the first place.”
The words lacked venom, but even without it, the sentiment was surprising coming from Etienne. Saamal blinked at him for a moment, reevaluating the mercurial werewolf. “Duly noted.”
The incubus finally gave up the vial and Saamal quickly uncorked it and drank it. The elixir was as thick as honey, and bittersweet. It slid down his throat, and everywhere it passed, Saamal’s muscles relaxed. A warm, buzzing sensation filled him and his eyelids drooped.
“I’m certain I told you to lie down,” Adonis muttered.
The demon’s voice sounded far away. Saamal didn’t argue as he and Etienne grabbed him by the shoulders, catching him as his knees buckled. He felt himself being eased down to the floor, but by the time the cold stone was against his back, he was far from caring.
Darkness closed over him. A feeling of weightlessness overcame him and he experienced a strange sensation of rising without moving. He drifted with the feeling, lost in the sensation until he became aware that he was no longer lying on the castle floor. With a jolt, Saamal opened his eyes.
Chapter Three
“Who knows what sort of creatures are lurking out there.”
Aiyana stood at the end of the secret tunnel that led from inside the curtain walls of the castle out into the forest beyond. The trees and brush were overgrown, hiding the entrance and keeping its secret, though she could see the moonlight peeking through the canopy. She gripped the torch more tightly in her hand. If she was going to enter the forest, she would have to abandon her torch here. The moon would be her only light, since fire was too likely to draw attention. She’d never been outside the castle walls, didn’t know who might live out here. Or what.
“There could be bears…giant serpents…” She tightened her grip on her torch, fighting the insane urge to throw it down. No matter what horrors she thought of, no matter how she tried to frighten herself into whirling around and racing back to her room like a sensible woman, she couldn’t help but peer into the forest…and hope there was danger there.
“No one ventures into the forest at night. There’s no one out here to see, no one out here to hurt.” A weight slid from her shoulder and she closed her eyes, tilting her face up to the moon. The torch fell from her fingers and she opened her eyes as it landed on damp moss and rolled into a small puddle of stagnant water. Aiyana reach out her foot and rolled the torch, filling the air with the hiss of steam as the fire died under the wet assault. Smoke curled up to reach her nostrils and she stepped closer to the mouth of the tunnel’s exit, brushing aside the hanging curtain of ivy so she could leave the concealment of the tunnel and enter the forest.
Cool air brushed over her cheeks and Aiyana drew the scent of the forest deep into her lungs. The wind breezed past her and she paused, holding very still. Voices. A voice. The wind was…speaking. She closed her eyes, straining to listen.
He’s coming.
The thought came into her head suddenly and her nerves spasmed in sudden alertness. A stick snapped, a sharp crack that shattered the silence. Aiyana’s eyes flew open. Adrenaline shot through her veins like liquid fire, her senses flaring to life as if she’d been asleep until now, as if everything up to this moment had been merely a dream. A new scent came to her, the smell of musk and earth. She sensed warmth near her. Without thinking, she whirled around, bent her knees, and threw herself at the intruder.
A masculine grunt sounded as she connected with flesh and blood. Her hands closed around broad shoulders and she held on, gripping her would be attacker and holding on. Her momentum carried them both to the ground and she parted her legs to straddle the stranger’s slim hips on the way down, simultaneously reaching up a hand to wrap around his throat. Adrenaline burned through her and claws erupted from her fingers. The sweet scent of copper perfumed the air. Her vision grew sharper and suddenly she could see as clearly as if it were daylight. Her dark hair fell in a curtain around her, leaving her with no distractions from the surprised face staring up at her.
Dark eyes like bottomless pits. Brown skin with garnet undertones, an aquiline nose, and ebony hair that had been shorn too close to his head. Full lips parted as he breathed, still calm despite her impromptu attack. He was…beautiful. She clenched her jaw, shoving the last thought aside.
“Who are you?” she demanded. Her voice had a high, whining quality that spoke of something more animal than human. Spots caught her peripheral vision and she glanced at the hand she had wrapped around the stranger’s neck. Rich golden fur covered with delicate sable rosettes. Jaguar fur.
Excitement lit inside her. She’d never let her powers out this far, never been in a position where it was safe to. But she didn’t have to fight it now. And she didn’t want to, didn’t care. All she cared about was the smell of blood and the driving urge inside her to dig her fingers into his neck a little further, spill more of that crimson sustenance to the ground. The earth was thirsty. She’d never been more sure of that than she was right now, in this moment…
The man beneath her didn’t answer her question. He thrust his body up to buck her weight off instead, muscles coiling under skin and clothes, broadcasting strength and reserved power. Distracted by her bloody thoughts, Aiyana could only curse as he managed to throw her off of him and get to his feet. Her temper sparked and energy prickled over her skin. Not bothering to fight it, not wanting to, she parted her lips, baring the teeth she could feel lengthening in her mouth. The stranger studied her, then his eyes widened. Something about the expression on his face prompted her to look down at herself.
Her arms were covered in light tan fur with black rosettes. Curved claws extended from her fingers. Her breath caught in her throat as she noticed the fur continued up her chest.
“What—” She winced as she cut her tongue on one of her own canines, the taste of copper filling her mouth. Reaching out slowly with her tongue, she sucked in a sharp breath as she found thick, sharp canines too large to be human. She carefully probed her face, finding more silky fur.
Her mother’s voice came roaring into her head with all the force of a gale wind. “Fight the darkness, Aiyana. Resist the temptation to use that power. It will consume you and everyone you love, everyone you are supposed to protect. It is evil and you must not let it destroy this kingdom.”
“Aiyana?’
She gaped at him, barely registering his voice. The smell of blood grew stronger and she stared down at her hands, at the sanguine fluid on her claws. Her attention was drawn up again, locking onto his neck and the wounds there. The wounds she’d inflicted.
“Don’t be afraid.” Th
e man took a step closer to her, one hand held out.
I’m becoming a monster. I thought it was safe to let go, to give in, just a little, but it’s not. This is a sign from the gods, a sign of what I’ll do to my people if I stop fighting this.
The thoughts rushed through her head, too fast for her to think. Ignoring the stranger still gazing at her in fascination, she pivoted on her heel and ran. Fear clutched her heart in an unforgiving vice and it reached deep into her mind and opened the floodgates to her nightmares. They rushed at her like howling demons, battering her with all the gruesome images that should have warned her never to let her guard down.
Selfish, stupid, fool. She chastised herself as she ran, trying to distract herself from the nightmares with her own thoughts. Her legs burned as she ran faster and faster, suddenly desperate to get to the fairy that might have the power to help her.
“Wait!”
The man’s voice behind her startled her, urged her to run, to put on another burst of speed. Fool! Couldn’t he see what she was? Didn’t he have the sense to run from a creature with a predator’s face?
She practically flew through the trees, leaping over fallen brush and dodging low-hanging branches as if she knew the forest far better than she possibly could. Smaller animals dove out of her way, frightened from their shelters by her frantic approach. The wind spoke with her, guiding her, telling her which way to go. She listened without conscious decision, hoping against hope that it was the fairy that led her, not the dark power inside her.
A hand closed around her arm and she shrieked as she was yanked backwards against a solid, muscled chest. Thoughtless in a sudden panic, she groped behind her, slashing at her captor’s face. The scent of blood assaulted her nostrils and the hand holding her arm released her. She tensed to run again, as much from the heady scent of blood as to escape her attacker.
“Aiyana, wait.”
The voice had changed. Higher than earlier, a…feline cry to it. The slight muffling of the words as though spoken from a mouth not necessarily meant for speech. Familiar in a way… She could hardly breathe as she turned around, needing to see for herself.
The man standing behind her was a world different than the man she had first encountered. If he hadn’t called out for her using her name, hadn’t spoken her name in that same heart-wrenching way, she would have sworn it was not the same man. He stood tall like a human, had a human-ish form, but his body was covered in the downy, spotted pelt of a jaguar. His ears were thinner, more rounded and covered in downy fuzz. The aquiline nose she’d noticed earlier was flatter, also covered with fur, and his lips were thinner, slate grey instead of the rose color they had been. His shock of hair remained, still cropped mournfully close, falling haphazardly over the fur of his forehead. Golden eyes glowed at her from his shadowed face. She touched her own face without meaning to, her subconscious feeling the ways she was similar to him.
“What are you?” Aiyana shifted on her feet, her need for answers barely outweighing her desire to run. What am I?
“A friend. My name is Saamal. I’m not here to hurt you, Aiyana.”
Suspicion crawled up her arms like twin serpents, winding around her, making her shift with unease. “You keep saying my name. How do you know who I am?”
The stranger’s eyebrows rose in surprise, but he quickly recovered. “You are the princess. How could I not know who you are?”
Aiyana narrowed her eyes, then found herself distracted wondering if hers were the same amber feline eyes that were set in Saamal’s spotted face. For the first time since he’d appeared, she took the time to really study him.
He was larger than he’d appeared in human form, at least from what she could recall from after she’d tackled him. His furred shoulders were broad, splitting the sleeves of his tunic as well as the uppermost side seams. The coal black pants he wore under the tunic were strained at the thighs by thick cords of muscle and whatever shoes he might have been wearing were long gone—no doubt having been a poor fit for the claw-tipped jaguar feet he had now. She glanced at her own feet at that last thought, scowling as she realized her own shoes were gone as well. That would make progressing through the forest once she retuned to human form more difficult—and added complications he did not need.
“Aiyana?”
She glared at him, all her frustration feeding the ire she could feel thrumming in her veins. “I don’t look anything like me. I’ve got fur, for the gods’ sakes.”
“Appearances are often deceiving.”
Something about the way he scrutinized her with those fathomless eyes made her squirm with a sensation not altogether unpleasant. His gaze ran appreciatively over her body, a mirror of how she’d considered him, and everywhere his concentration passed left a trail of warmth behind it. It was a new feeling, and Aiyana shoved it away as she reminded herself that she had no time for this. She opened her mouth to order the stranger to leave, but his eyes flicked back to hers and the words died on her tongue. His eyes were not gold anymore. They had grown dark, nearly black. It was as if he were seeing inside her. Whatever he saw there seemed to please him.
“The power inside you is invigorating.” There was a slight hitch in his breathing as he took a deep breath. “With the strength and power I can sense in you, it doesn’t surprise me that you dare to wander the dark forest alone.”
He took a step closer to her, reaching a hand out as if to cup her cheek. Aiyana jolted back, heart beating like a war drum in her chest. It had been so long since she’d been free of her guards, she couldn’t remember the last time anyone had dared to reach out and touch her. It was…disconcerting.
Saamal lowered his hand. “I am not here to hurt you, Aiyana. Please do not be afraid.”
“What are you?” Aiyana repeated, fighting to keep her voice even. “Why do you look like that?” Why do I look like this?
“It is a gift, a manifestation of power.” Saamal met her eyes, watching her closely. “A gift from the Lord of Near and Nigh.”
“The Black God?” A lump rose in Aiyana’s throat at the mention of the god of conflict, he who was called the Jaguar King, Smoking Mirror, Death, and a whole host of other names befitting his power. “The Black God made you like that? Were you possessed as well?”
A line appeared between Saamal’s brows. “Possessed?”
Aiyana gestured to her body. “That’s what happened to me. The Black God possessed me, wanted to use me to bring more bloodshed.” The sounds of her nightmares echoed in her ears and Aiyana shoved them away, clearing her throat to try and block out the sounds. “Do you have nightmares too?”
The line between Saamal’s brows deepened. “I don’t understand. Why do you think you were possessed? Why do you think the Black God wants more bloodshed? What nightmares?”
Aiyana stepped back, eyes narrowing in suspicion at Saamal. “Are you a stranger to this kingdom?”
“No.” Saamal tried to step closer to her again, but paused when she held up a hand. “Aiyana, why are you afraid of me? Why are you afraid of the Black God?”
“Because we worship the White God. We celebrate life, justice, and mercy. The Black God celebrates war, judgment, and bloody sacrifice. The Black God possessed me when I was only a baby, putting his darkness inside me so that I would become an instrument of his violent blood lust.” Frustration burned inside her and she blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay. “I have fought my entire life against that darkness.”
Saamal blinked, his lips parted. Slowly, the lines in his face tightened, his lips pressing together in a thin line. Claws clicked together as he fisted his hands at his sides, muscles rippling as they tensed. His eyes grew misty, swirling and moving until they became drowning pits that were dizzying to look at. A roiling energy stirred to life around Saamal and the night seemed to absorb the light, the forest growing darker around them, the wind stirring and tossing Aiyana’s hair about her face. She raked it into one hand, holding her hair out of her eyes as she took a few steps away from
Saamal.
“The White God does not rule this kingdom,” Saamal growled. “His time has not yet come. The Black God still rules here.”
“You were not possessed against your will.” Aiyana stepped back again. “You became his host willingly. You wanted to serve the Black God.”
“Please do not be so frightened.”
Saamal stepped closer again, his hand held up, palms out. His eyes drifted closed and he breathed in again, seeming to savor some scent that she could not detect. Aiyana sniffed the air, trying to determine what had caught Saamal’s attention. He opened his eyes, a hazy, almost drugged appearance in the once again golden orbs.
“You are beautiful, Aiyana, and I can sense your strength. I don’t know who told you such frightening tales to make you fear the power inside you, but when I look at you, I do not see a threat to your people. I see a woman who will be a strong queen someday, someone who has the power to protect her people against any force that may threaten them.” He took a step and this time, Aiyana didn’t step back. He raised a hand and stroked the back of his fingers against her cheek.
Beautiful Salvation Page 6
