Return to Shanhasson

by Joely Sue Burkhart

  Pulling back, he smiled and traced his fingers back and forth over her lips. “That’s better, my heart. Now tell me whatever has troubled you so.”

  As she told him about the Black Dragon slithering in her dreams; his taunts and challenges that had helped her stay alive even while Rhaekhar’s bond dragged her under; and lastly, the very worst mistake she’d ever made in her life, his golden gaze narrowed.

  “I marked him,” she admitted, bracing for his reaction. “I tasted his blood.”

  “Did he taste as good as me?” Rhaekhar’s fingers wandered slow trails up and down her neck, between her breasts, down her stomach. Without ever touching her intimately, he had her entire body humming with pleasure. “Does he smell as good as me?”

  “You know he doesn’t.”

  “How about our Shadowed Blood?”

  A cold weight settled against her back and the rich, dark aroma of caffe told her Gregar had joined them. She shivered. Cold shadows peeled away and she found herself sandwiched between both warriors, skin to skin, heart to heart.

  Tears burned her eyes. It had been so terribly long since both her co-mates had held her. Unable to answer, she simply shook her head.

  “How about Dharman and Sal?” Gregar whispered against her ear. “Does this blackheart smell and taste as good as them?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?” Rhaekhar tipped her chin up, holding her steady as he searched her gaze. “Your memory of his scent and blood are very, very strong, na’lanna. You had best acknowledge your feelings for him so your Blood may react accordingly.”

  She swallowed hard, forcing herself to face the truth. “At the very least, he’s dangerous, worse than anyone I’ve ever known.” And not yet killed with my own hand.

  “But you want him anyway.” Gregar raked his teeth down the column of her throat. “Do you know why? What do I give you that Rhaekhar does not?”

  Chills crawled down her arms. “Danger.”

  Rhaekhar’s nostrils flared, his eyes glowed, and his lips curved in that familiar smug grin. Dead or alive, he knew exactly what she was feeling. “Exactly. It took two young Blood to replace me. Or is it all nine yet?”

  Heat scorched her cheeks at the thought. She’d never contemplated…Only Dharman and Sal…Surely… She forced a glare and shook her head.

  Gregar laughed. “And a dragon to replace me.”

  “What am I going to do?”

  Rhaekhar shared a dark, knowing look with the warrior at her back. “Do you have to ask?”

  She let out a growl and thumped him on the chest. “You know what I mean. This man is Shadowed.”

  He arched a brow at her. “And Gregar is not?”

  “It’s different this time.” She huffed, struggling to voice her dread. “He’s even more dangerous, more…evil. He wants to do worse than kill me.”

  Gregar laughed again and it wasn’t a nice chuckle at all. The hard, cruel tone raised the hairs on her neck. Her internal alarms shrieked danger, death at her back. “And I did not?”

  “I was your Fire,” Rhaekhar said softly. “Your Blood are now your Fire.”

  “I was your Shadow,” Gregar growled, his teeth scraping at her neck warningly. “This dragon is now your Shadow.”

  “And you, my heart, shine like your Lady’s moon. Do what you do best. Love them.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut to hold back the tears, but it was too late. “I won’t pay that sacrifice again. It hurts too much. I can’t lose anyone again. I can’t, please, don’t ask me to live that grief again.”

  “You saved me from Shadow.” Gregar rubbed his cheek against hers. “Is this blackheart worth saving if you have the power?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Only you can answer that question, na’lanna. Listen to your heart. This dragon falls, tumbling toward his doom and screaming for you. Only you can save him. Will you stand by and let him fall to his death?”

  “He might kill me.”

  “Aye.” Rhaekhar’s mouth flattened, his voice hard. “The risk is great. If he succeeds in your death, then there will be eleven ghostly warriors riding him down and dragging him to the Three Hells where we will torment him with our rahkes for all time.”

  She couldn’t help but picture the sandalwood savage spread-eagled on black rock, pinned by her Blood and two mates while their rahkes dug into his flesh. Thin trails of blood rivered down his body, flavoring the air with desert spice, tempting her to lick and bite and wallow…

  Rhaekhar slid inside on a hard thrust that slammed her tight against the Death Rider at her back. “Aye, that is a very tempting punishment you’ve devised for this dragon. But first, I want you to wallow upon me.”

  Dropping his hand to her breast, Gregar gripped her left shoulder in his teeth. :Do not fear, na’lanna. Even if you lose this kae’don to the dragon, you will have this for evermore.:

  :If you mark me here, will I wear it in the waking world?:

  His breath caught on a ragged moan. :I don’t know, but I’m more than eager to try if you’re up to the challenge.:

  :Mark me, na’lanna. I want to carry your Shadow.:

  Even here in the training Camp for Death Riders and shamans, Rhaekhar was First. Gregar looked to him for permission, even though the other warrior was no longer Khul. Rhaekhar nodded and took her mouth at the same time that Gregar struck at her shoulder. Arching against him, she dug her fingers into Rhaekhar’s lower back. He hummed his satisfaction against her lips, while Gregar’s teeth sank deeper at her shoulder, searing pain driving her pleasure higher.

  Her blood filled his mouth, the taste alone enough to drive him to release in a hot flood against her buttocks. She followed, and then Rhaekhar like dominoes. Trembling, they all three lay fighting to regain their breathing, their heads crowded close, sharing the same air. With their hair tumbled in her face and their bodies pressed tight to hers, she almost felt safe again. She could almost forget that a Black Dragon stalked her Dreams and swore to hunt her down while his blood spread through her heart like a foul cancer.

  Speaking of blood…she smelled Rhaekhar’s. She hadn’t bitten him, and she certainly hadn’t meant to hurt him.

  “I’m dead, my heart. It’s impossible to hurt me now, but I would like to see your hands.” He sat up and gripped her wrists, holding her hands up between them. Pearly talons gleamed on each fingertip. “Interesting. Do you have these in the waking world?”

  “No,” she whispered, shaken. “At least, I don’t think so.”

  “Next time, I want these raking up and down my back.” Gregar took her hand and lifted her arm back so he could lick each talon clean, but he hesitated, sniffing and touching his tongue to her fingers. “Aye, your dragon does smell very distinctive, na’lanna. Your Blood are going to have a very good time indeed watching you rip him to shreds.”

  * * *

  AFTER HUGS AND KISSES FROM the twins who couldn’t stop babbling about the na’kindren in the valley and seeing both their fathers once more, Shannari felt even better. She had their love to anchor her, and if the worst happened and she failed, then she would find them waiting here for her. It was guaranteed that she would die in blood. Nothing would keep her from them.

  Not even a Black Dragon’s sandalwood-scented blood.

  Kae’Shaman kissed both her cheeks and held her hands. “I’m so pleased to see you at last, child. I know it’s been terribly difficult.”

  Even with her co-mates on either side of her and her daughters in her lap, she knew tears shimmered in her eyes. For the twins’ sake, she didn’t cry again. “I’m afraid things are only going to get worse. I have a situation brewing that very well may lead to war.”

  A war that I have no hope of winning.

  “As soon as you awake, send a messenger to our new Khul,” Rhaekhar said. “Our friend shall not fail you, na’lanna. Our warriors would be more than pleased to ride to your aid.”

  “A little battle is good for the blood!” Rhyra shouted, leaping
up to brandish a stick in place of a rahke. Anya joined her in a play kae’rahke, but Shannari could see the Shadowed Blood’s influence in their training.

  She squeezed Gregar’s hand. :Thank you for training them. You always were the best.:

  :Thank you for letting me meet my daughter.:

  Indeed, Anya would do her father proud. Shannari could see the blossoming skill in her dark-haired daughter’s strokes.

  “You have many weapons at your disposal, child.” Kae’Shaman said. “With nine Blood, a Rose Crown, a Great Seal, and the blood of your Blessed Lady flowing in your veins, you will be able to accomplish great things.”

  An idea began to form in the back of her mind. If her Blood were willing…

  “You know they’d kneel at your feet and slit their throats if you asked them,” Rhaekhar reminded. “Go, my heart, and see to this threat, but come often and soon.”

  “We miss you,” Gregar whispered, his heart laid bare in his trembling voice.

  Both warriors pressed tighter, holding her cheek to cheek to cheek. “I love you,” she whispered. “I will always love you.”

  Reaching for Dharman felt like carving her heart out of her chest only to have it handed back to her with his sweet honeycake scent as his arms enfolded her. With his bond firm in her mind, she stepped out of the Dream and opened her eyes. He lay before her, nose to nose, his eyes wide open and intent.

  “I need a messenger.”

  “Already done, na’lanna Qwen. As soon as you entered the Tenth Camp, I returned briefly to give Sal the order.”

  Her eyes widened, her heart suddenly galloping at full speed. “He didn’t go himself, did he?”

  “Surely you jest, na’lanna.” Sal hopped onto the bed beside her on all fours, artfully sending his hair to tumble into her lap. “Sangral na’kindren would not separate me from you.”

  Relieved, she still frowned. She would need all nine for her plan. “Then who went to Dalden Bay?”

  “Khul’s messenger was still here. He said he had an odd feeling that he should remain until you needed him. He rides with all haste to Khul, and he assured us that the Plains will empty at your Call without delay.”

  “Who did this?” Sal’s normally playful voice vibrated with menace. He hovered over her left shoulder, smelling her skin. “Ah, never mind. The Shadowed Blood marked you well, na’lanna Qwen.”

  “You can see it?” She craned her head around, checking it with her right hand. Gregar’s mark was bruised and sore, but shimmered oddly, almost as though it were lit from within.

  “Your other marks shine too,” Dharman whispered in a reverent voice, lightly touching his fingers to her left breast, his mark over her heart. “You swallowed the moon, na’lanna. Our marks shine.”

  She smiled, tears filling her eyes, but this time of joy. “Shine with love.”

  Her smile fell, though. If she bore Gregar’s mark…then the Black surely bore hers.

  She pushed up out of the bed, Sal and Dharman behind her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dharman giving the other Blood orders. She knew that enough of her intentions had already leaked through to him, but she gave him the words out of courtesy. “I’m going to bathe and dress, and then we’re going down to the Great Seal. Send a messenger to Father Josef and ask him to meet me in the High Court.”

  Lew slipped out the door to bring the priest to her. Sal went in search of clothing.

  “No armor,” she called after him, smiling at the flash in Dharman’s eyes. He’d gotten his desire at last. “Something simple, preferably white. I need to make a statement.” He arched a brow at her, his mouth quirking, but she didn’t know why until… “Oh, and Sal, not those crotchless drawers.”

  Her Second Blood made a disgusted sound of disappointment.

  CHAPTER

  FIFTEEN

  MYKAL JERKED AWAKE, BLINDLY REACHING FOR HER. Catching a falling star would have been easier. She was gone, but her scent of musky roses hung thick in the air, permeating his clothing. Breathing hard, he sat up, not surprised to find his clothing tattered rags, whether from her talons or his, he didn’t know.

  What shocked the very breath from his body was the shimmering rainbow mark in his groin. She’d caught the flesh high on his inner thigh in her teeth and left him an impressive mark. Fingers shaking, he lightly touched the bite.

  Cool water flooded him, laden with moonlight and silver and flavored with rose petals. Shuddering, he came hard, biting his lip until he tasted blood to keep from roaring her name at the top of his lungs.

  Shannari!

  Wells, he could feel her. Far, far to the east behind Shining Walls, the bond between them lay thin and stretched but she’d definitely heard him. The flash of terror from her arched his back and another spasm shook him.

  What would it be like to have her mind laid open and bare to him, as lush and ripe as her body? One taste of her blood would never be enough. He wanted her most secret thoughts ringing in his mind, her most vulnerable fears transparent, and her love shining, a beacon in the darkest night.

  That’s what I want most of all.

  The thought shook him to his core. The Black Dragon lay sated and lazy within him, willing to sleep with the memory of her scent to feed him, but there were other Shadows he must feed. He felt the Darkness like a steady drip of blood pooling within his soul, slicked with dragon oil and as black as his heart.

  His mind wheeled, tumbling toward the earth like a dragon surrendered to a death spiral.

  I’m Mykal tal’Mamba, and I have a purpose. But when did my heart overtake my mind?

  Was that part of the overall plan? He didn’t know. After hundreds of years of dark plots, lies, and murder, he hesitated. He honestly didn’t know what to do. All his careful scheming blew like sand before the storm, disappearing in a cloud of dust that meant nothing, nothing at all, once the sweet perfume of roses filled his nose.

  Hissing beneath his breath, he jumped to his feet and ducked out of his tent. He threw his head back and roared, shaking his fist at the moon.

  Gana tal’Tellan and Nijar tal’Gaboon came running, along with his own rav and dozens of other warriors he didn’t bother to name.

  Proudly, he stood nude with legs braced wide apart, letting them see the white-hot brand on his thigh. “The White Dragon marked me.”

  “How is this possible?” Nijar whispered, his face pale as he stared at the mark. By the look on his face, the man would murder every single person in his tribe to get the same chance. “You even smell like roses.”

  “She walks in Dreams. She came here to me in a vision and marked my body for all to see.”

  Gana narrowed his gaze suspiciously, worried that another tal had taken the lead in the race to be azi.

  Deliberately, Mykal detoured the tal’s displeasure. “I don’t want her to know which tal she marked.”

  Gana’s mouth fell open as though he’d formulated an argument, only to be startled into a stupor by his opponent’s quick surrender. “What do you mean?”

  “She’s afraid.” Mykal smiled at the memory of her terror as she’d fled his blood. “Yet she believes she now has some power over me.” Indeed, she thought the opposite, but the tals didn’t need to know the true gift she’d given him. “If she’s confused about which of us actually bear her mark, then she’ll be too busy trying to puzzle it out to notice our treachery before the noose is sprung and the White Dragon is ours.”

  The older tal still frowned, gripping his ear and tugging nervously. “How did she find you? Will she walk in my dreams next, or Nijar’s?”

  Mykal spread his hands and shrugged. “She’s the Last Daughter. Who knows what magics she may have? We must be prepared for her to touch our dreams individually in effort to single us out against each other.”

  “How will she not recognize you?” Nijar asked. “Or perhaps I should say, how can we mask your identity?”

  “She never saw my face,” Mykal replied. “However, she knows my scent. I propose that a s
elect few of you temporarily wear my oil, at least a dab on your throats to release my scent.” He paused, letting the silence tell them that he would consider carefully who he’d allow to wear his oil. It was rather unusual among the Keldari. Gana’s mouth actually flattened as though he’d tasted something sour. “She’ll definitely recognize it but be terribly confused when more than one of us smells of sandalwood.”

  She won’t be pleased to realize she betrayed that weakness to me. His White was fierce indeed and so incredibly brilliant in strategy. He must cast the net wide for the tals, and plan his own route very carefully indeed.

  His purpose hadn’t changed, not exactly. He would still grasp the moon in the palm of his hand. Whether he would take the left or right hand path thereafter, he didn’t yet know. Death waited on all sides, cloaked in Shadow.

  Again, he felt that sense of tumbling through the night sky, wings bent awkwardly, painfully twisted and broken. He fell, too fast, the ground rushing up to meet him.

  So much depended on her, whether she was named truly as Daughter of Our Blessed Lady of Love.

  :Run, brightheart. Run to your Shining Walls and cower behind your nine Red ponies. This time, I’m coming to mark you as mine.:

  * * *

  DRESSED IN THE SIMPLE WHITE nightgown she no longer needed, na’lanna Qwen sat on the edge of her bed. Her wordless request to draw near brought all nine Blood to kneel before her. Dharman claimed his spot at her knee with Sal opposite him; the rest fanned out before her, all eyes locked on her.

  “I have a…”

  “Aye,” they all replied in unison.

  Her mouth curved wryly and she shook her head. “You haven’t heard my request.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Dharman replied, and the rest nodded emphatically. “If you ask, we shall do, without question.”

  He felt reluctance in her mind, the beginning of a door trying to shut on their bonds. Heart pounding, he held himself still instead of surging forward to fight. Despite the physical intimacy they’d enjoyed, it was still terribly tempting for her to withdraw and shut down, so very difficult for her to remain open and vulnerable to them. If she closed herself off, they had no chance of surviving the coming kae’don.