Contents
Title
Dedication
The Pit
Escape
Throne Room
Dinner
Truth
Possibilities
Training
Oath
Fight
Stray
Trap
The Rite
Found
Council
Sacrifice
Magic
Healing
Epilogue
Thank You
Song of Smoke
B o o k O n e
For Autumn, never lose your fire.
The Pit
I follow the guard down the damp tunnel that serves as a hallway between my father’s quarters and the deeper chamber where the prison cells are located. The sound of our feet squishing along the slightly muddy floor is the only sign of life at this hour of the night.
About halfway down the hall, Celestra unfolds herself from a shadowy corner and falls into step beside me. Her long elegant fingers press gently over my shoulder and she leans in close to my ear.
“Alderon is waiting with your father,” she murmurs.
I suck in a fortifying breath and force steel into my spine.
“This is the worst possible time to be acting out, my darling. You know that Raimund cannot appear weak in front of the Cradick soldiers. And this will absolutely not send a good message to your future husband,” she says.
I snort rudely at her unsolicited interference, and we halt in front of the closed door to my father’s study.
“Just a moment,” Celestra instructs the guard. She moves in front of me and forces my gaze to hers. “Listen to me, Seda. Your father is beyond furious right now and the only thing standing between you and a beating is Lord Alderon- that you are to become his property in three days’ time.” She grips my chin tightly and I feel the sharp pressure of her thumbnail dig into my flesh. “If you value your skin at all, you will walk into that room, beg forgiveness and swear obedience to your future husband,” she whispers harshly.
I rip my chin away from her hold and take a step past her towards the door. “Your advice is unnecessary,” I murmur. “As you pointed out, I have three more days until my father sells me off to a husband who will probably murder me before we even reach Cradick. Or perhaps he’ll decide that I’m too much trouble and leave me to waste away in a prison cell. Thank you for that, by the way.”
Celestra drops her dark eyes to the floor, having the decency at least to appear genuinely remorseful for the part that she played in arranging this match. She pulls her inky black hair back over her shoulder and inhales deeply through her dainty nose.
“Darling, I-”
“Don't. I stand by my actions and I’ll answer for them.” I push past her and open the door into the cavernous study.
My father sits in an overstuffed chair in front of the fireplace, a flagon of wine in his hand. His ice-blue eyes land on me immediately as I pass through the doorway and his mouth closes and sets into a hard, angry line.
He and the man sitting across from him both rise from their seats, each intimidating in their own right. My father, nearly fifty, is tall and lean, with a quiet, cruel menace about him. Dressed in finery of red and black and ornamented with polished gold, it would be easy to underestimate the violence lurking just beneath the surface.
Alderon, on the other hand, is exactly what you would expect the ruler of a war-hungry people to look like. In his forties and with battle scars covering every inch of swarthy skin, he towers over and outmatches everyone else in raw power and muscle. His long brown hair and full beard give him the appearance of a rugged lion-turned-man.
“I’m so glad you could join us, daughter,” Raimund drawls from his chair. The air in the room is heavy with the smell of smoke and sweat.
Alderon rakes his fingers through his wiry beard and takes me in.
“Devil take me - It’s no wonder you’ve been keeping this one locked up tight.” He claps my father on the back and laughs delightedly. “Mother above. She’ll do just fine, Raimund.”
I press my lips together and ignore his rude remarks, refusing to look at him and focusing instead on my father. I exhale loudly and keep my gaze trained ahead, clearing my throat in a subtle dismissal.
Alderon laughs even louder at my insolence and rubs his palms together in anticipation.
“Look at the spirit on her! Fucking hell.”
My father watches Alderon from the corner of his eye. It’s impossible to tell what is going through his head in this moment, but I happen to know that this kind of loud crassness grates on his nerves. It’s almost enjoyable- watching him endure it and not be able to let on for fear of damaging relations with the other ruler.
Alderon tears his eyes from me and aims a misshapen smile just over my shoulder.
“And Celestra; who could overlook you? As heart-stopping as ever, I see,” he booms.
Celestra forces a smile and floats out from behind me. Her tall, lithe form is absolutely enchanting in the firelight- black hair and gown blending into the shadows. She takes my father’s outstretched hand and perches lightly at his elbow.
“We are so honored to welcome you, my lord.” She strokes her free hand down the arm of my father’s dark red coat. “No doubt you are absolutely exhausted from the journey, would you like for me to have someone show you to your room?”
Her smile gives nothing away.
“Sweet of you, but no. I’ve been eagerly awaiting Seda’s arrival this evening and I think I’d like to wait this out.” Alderon’s brown eyes meet mine and he grins before looking back at Raimund.
The two men lock eyes for a moment as they try and piece together each other’s game in all of this- my life.
My father steps forward until he and I are inches apart. His earthy scent is familiar and unwelcome in the small space. I force my lip not to quiver and my hands not to shake, but there is nothing I can do to stop the rapid thud of my heartbeat. My father’s eyes find the quick staccato of my pulse, and I see the satisfaction flicker in his gaze.
“You know why you’re here.”
“I do.” My voice is quiet but even.
“The prison master informed me that you were delivering an unscheduled visit to Lady Rosamel, tonight.” His voice is so low that, even this close, I am straining to hear him.
Alderon seems to have no trouble, however, and exhales a small chuckle.
“Plotting a prison break?” he taunts.
“Of course not,” I snap, and instantly, my father strikes. The sting of his palm against my cheek has me hissing in pain and cupping my face.
“Do not address Lord Alderon in that tone,” he snarls. “Apologize.”
My eyes water and there is breathless heartbeat where my pride takes over and my mouth refuses to open. Self-preservation wins out quickly, however, and I drop the tiniest curtsy to Alderon.
“Apologies, my lord,” I mutter.
“Hear me now. You do not decide when those under the prison master’s supervision - and therefore mine - eat, or drink, or bathe, or sleep. They are there as a consequence of their own actions. To undermine their punishment is to undermine me. It is unacceptable.”
Celestra twists her fingers around my father’s and tuts with motherly disappointment.
“Foolish girl. What on earth were you doing down there?” she murmurs.
“She was caught passing a blanket and food through the bars to that whore,” my father growls.
“This is Marcus Webb’s sister?” Celestra asks.
I nod and understanding flashes in her eyes.
Marcus is a notoriously violent drunk and has had more than his fair share of run-ins with Illburn’s enforcers. Unfortunately for Rosamel, he has also recently discovered that his sister is a much easier target for his abuse than anyone else he might run into in the hallways after dark.
And after a night spent beating his sister, he drags her to the nearest guard and claims that she received the bruises from a lover. Since sexual contact outside of marriage is illegal for women, it means that Rosamel gets to suffer her brother’s fists as well as a prison sentence.
Marcus isn’t fooling anyone.
We all know who is in the wrong, but Illburn is run by a brotherhood that claims moral superiority while committing atrocities, and my father sits at the helm. Rosamel is not the only woman to suffer jail time meant for an abusive man. And while I cannot overturn the rulings, I can extend these women comfort and kindness and solidarity.
So I do.
“He caught the young woman out whoring again - bruised and bloodied by the same dimwit as before. She got another week, and hopefully this time she gets it through her skull that her behavior won’t be tolerated,” Raimund murmurs.
“Amen to that,” Alderon chimes in. “Nothing worse than a loose woman.”
My jaw is clenched so tightly that I’m sure my teeth will crack at any moment. If I were braver - stronger - I would call out my father on his lies. But I have no leverage and no recourse, so I stay quiet and swallow the anger in my chest.
“What is to be my punishment?” I grit out.
Raimund reaches towards me and rests a thoroughly jeweled hand on my shoulder. He sucks a deep breath in through his nose and lets it out slowly as he pretends to consider his options.
“Surely nothing too severe,” Celestra whispers softly. My father doesn’t even spare her a glance.
“As a gift to your future husband, I will not take the punishment from your flesh,” he says, and I narrow my eyes.
“Kind of you not to mar her for me,” Alderon mutters and crosses his beefy arms over his chest.
“Indeed,” Raimund murmurs and holds my stare for a moment before continuing. “I think a bit of reflection would do the trick. Some time in isolation to think about your misdeeds and keep you out of trouble until your wedding.”
My heart sputters and a familiar clammy panic spreads over my skin. Alderon watches me with interest as I fight to keep the pieces of my composure intact.
My father opens the study door and ushers a guard into the room.
“Please take Seda to see the prison master. You can inform him that she will be spending the next few days in isolation.”
A large arm slides behind my back and locks both of my elbows together in a tight hold. I struggle and thrash as I am dragged from the room.
Alderon hoots with amusement behind me.
“A hell cat! Perhaps I ought to have negotiated better to be taking her off your hands, Raimund.”
My father nods and motions for him to take a seat again by the fire.
“We can discuss whatever terms you think fair,” he says.
I slam my body into the guard, and we crash into the door frame. Raimund watches with narrowed eyes as the guard finds his balance again and hauls me out into the hallway.
We march down the damp, earthy tunnels toward the jail and meet the prison master at the entrance.
“Back so soon?” He chuckles. I scowl and spit at his feet in a terribly unladylike fashion.
“Ever the charmer, Seda.”
“Lord Raimund said she’s to be put in isolation,” the soldier behind me supplies helpfully. The prison master crooks his finger and leads us back to the small cells. They throw me inside, and I land hard on my left shoulder.
“Probably best to keep you out of sight until your wedding. Wouldn’t want Lord Alderon to have second thoughts about attaching himself to such an ill-behaved heathen.” He scowls as I pull myself to stand against the back of the tiny cell.
“Perhaps I’ll ask my husband to gut you as a wedding gift to me before we leave,” I snarl and kick a bit of dirt his way.
He smiles coldly with a tsk.
“You think me horrible for letting the girls in here go a bit hungry? Or shiver it out for a night while they think on their crimes?”
“I think you are vile and heartless for treating those women- who you know are innocent- like they are less than human. Like they are nothing,” I growl.
He cackles loudly at that and places one hand on the iron door, swinging it nearly closed.
“My dear child. They are nothing. And neither are you. And in three days, you will be begging the Mother herself for my brand of punishment.” He snorts. “A man like that - you will be lucky to meet death before he peels the flesh from your body for sport.”
And with that, the cell door swings closed with a loud, metallic groan.
There are no windows. There is no sky. No light. No sound. Only the cold bite of mud and darkness. My father’s punishment is especially fitting and especially painful this time. Being cut off from light and warmth and life; it’s the one thing he knows I cannot tolerate.
Both my father and Celestra have watched and wondered if some of my more unusual tendencies may have been the beginning stirrings of blood magic. A gift from the Mother, it is rare and cannot be predicted or bred intentionally. It is cherished by those who fall under the sphere of its protection and is coveted by those who desire any kind of control they can cast over it.
My gift, I have discovered, is elemental - fire magic. It is horribly ironic and terribly fitting that the thing that has destroyed so much of what I love, is the one piece of myself I cannot confront and come to terms with.
I have felt the call to flame increasing and strengthening over the years. I know I should be practicing and building my skills - working to control and contain it. But there has been so much char and ash and death by fire already at Illburn; I can’t be the cause of someone else being hurt that way because I don’t know what I’m doing.
If there was any single person who might be able to help me master the magic flowing through my veins, it would have been Celestra. But by the time I felt the first sense of an otherness inside of me, a pull towards something that felt wholly new and familiar at the same time, my mother had been dead for three years and my father’s heart had blackened and burned to ash along with her. I decided it was best for me to keep it buried inside.
I have never disliked Celestra, but I know where her loyalties lie.
The High King is a dedicated collector of such gifts. He found Celestra as a child and raised her in his court where she has become one of his most powerful and influential emissaries. On loan to my father and Illburn while we deal with Dragon attacks, the years she has spent here are no doubt more than she bargained for when the High King sent her to lend her services.
She has offered again and again to mentor me when, or if, I ever felt the stirring. As months turned into years and I kept all traces of it buried deep inside, she asked about it less and less until she and my father had all but given up hope. The last time was over six months ago.
“We must look out for each other, my darling,” she had said, running her palm over my hair.
I pulled away from the unwelcome contact and fed her the same lie that I had been repeating since I was fifteen. “You know I would tell you, Celestra, but there is nothing. I’m positive.”
Her bright smile dimmed and faltered before quickly recovering. She reached forward to clasp my hand.
“You will. I can sense these things.”
I gave her a half-smile and a nod.
“Promise me you will come to me, Seda. It is so important that we begin together.”
My light blue eyes met her dark ones and a chill ran over my skin at the intensity there. I’m not sure that the cost of that kind of favor is one that I would ever be willing to repay.
She moved behind me and pulle
d my hair back over my shoulders, braiding it into a crown over my head.
“Bausan approached your father yesterday,” she murmured.
I called forward the image of the middle-aged soldier who worked for my father. He was stocky, with a serious demeanor but not an unkind face. I’d noticed the way he watched me at meals and how he had begun to find me more and more often on my way in and out of the city.
“Long red hair, handsome face, nice smile,” she continued.
“If you’ve ever seen that man smile then perhaps he’s more interested in you than me. He’s too old- and too serious. We wouldn’t suit,” I countered.
Celestra rolled her eyes and sighed.
“He would be a very useful match, Seda. He would make you a strong husband and protector.” She stood and ran her gaze over me, taking in my simple gray dress void of any lace or frills. We were so different. She was tall and thin, all graceful lines where I was softer with rounded hips and average height.
“A protector from what, Celestra?” I cocked my head and dared her to voice the fact that the biggest threat to me was my own father - and she knew it.
“The same thing that all women need protection from, my darling. Society does not treat single women kindly. Please don’t feign ignorance; it’s not at all becoming on you,” she said.
I stood and faced her, a sweet smile plastered to my face.
“You have done just fine as a single woman. Better than most. Perhaps I will make my way to the High King and his court. Follow in your footsteps?”
Her dark eyes hardened to glittering onyx.
“Your father would never allow it. You are the heir to Illburn. And you may very well have magic in you that makes you a tool that your kingdom needs to win our survival. You cannot go alone to the High King if that is the case.”
“Why not? You think the king would mistreat me?” I ran my eyes over her fine clothes. The delicate gold bangles and rings she was adorned with. “You seem to have survived your time at court just fine. No damage done.”
“You know nothing, Seda, of where I come from.” She was so close to my face that I could see the rapid flutter of her pulse in her throat. “I did not have the luxury of someone willing to watch my back. I learned to watch my own. I would save you the same fate.”
Song of Smoke: A Dragon Shifter Romance (The King's Series Book 1) Page 1
