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Reign (Roam Series, Book Six)

Page 3

by Stedronsky, Kimberly

“Story of my fucking life.”

  “Logan, stop.” I clapped my hand on his shoulder, and he raised his defiant eyes to me. “Stop. I know you’re hurting. I know what it is to lose your wife. I know you’re angry. Eva is doing everything she can to bring her back.”

  “You can’t bring back the dead,” he hissed, stalking away. “I’ll stall the trip,” he added, without turning.

  I watched him move toward a tankard of beer, restraining myself from going after him. He needs to mourn. Leave him alone.

  The next hours were spent with chaos as a storm moved in from across the ocean. There was no need to postpone the journey with a fabricated reason. Travel at dawn would be impossible.

  We were meant to stay here longer.

  I stopped trying to dissect the past, instead slipping through the darkened halls near her chamber. Her women slept in an adjoining room, and two guards stood outside her door.

  Marching forward, I met their wary stares.

  “His majesty, King Troy, has ordered that I personally keep watch over the princess. No harm will come to her this night.”

  They exchanged glances.

  Finally, one spoke. “It is an honor to serve with you.”

  They both bowed.

  This will be easier than I thought.

  “Thank you, but I guard alone. You are to report to your own quarters for the remainder of our time here. I will protect the princess.”

  More hesitant now, one opened his mouth to speak. Suddenly, they were both bowing low, and I turned as her father approached with his own valet.

  “Sir West, you are to guard my daughter?”

  “Yes, your majesty. It is his majesty King Troy’s order.” I answered.

  “My guards are not good enough for Troy?”

  I had to be careful. Finally, I lifted my eyes to his. “It would bring me great honor to stand watch over the future queen of Icepond.”

  After a long pause, he smiled, patting my shoulder. “Rise, rise. Of course.” He dismissed the other two guards, proceeding to his own rooms.

  I stood outside her door for three hours. I knew she was safe inside her own room, and needed time to think through the past, the story, and what we were going to do.

  I’d already learned from the other men that I was to travel to another kingdom to retrieve her wedding gift from Troy, an engraved sword. Once we arrived in Icepond, I’d be ordered to leave for the weapon.

  The sword she’d used to slaughter dozens of men with in the castle.

  Fuck. She was going to lose her mind as soon as the ship docked, if she hadn’t already. I needed to find my father, Asher, and make him believe in his potential magic. If Eva failed, we needed another way out.

  And according to history, Roam and Logan would die.

  A paradox.

  Our child will save the world. I leaned against the wall, running my hand over my arm where the coordinates used to be. How would this time be different? Had we managed to change anything?

  I thought about the day I first met Roam in my classroom, and everything that had transpired since. Had there been a turning point in this life that may have changed the fate we were sentenced to?

  Troy drowned Roam- but I saved her. I breathed life back into her.

  We’d tried to bring Eva through the fountain, but she ended up in Icepond.

  Roam had nearly died in the castle, but Asher turned back time.

  This is the eighth life, not the seventh. The prophecy detailed seven lives. Had it all been done before?

  Where was the turning point?

  Chapter Four

  Roam

  The door opened, and I shot upright in the enormous bed, gripping the blankets to my chest.

  “Shh…,”

  “West,” I threw my legs over the side of the bed, running to him.

  He caught me in his strong arms, and I was weightless as he crushed me to him. His mouth covered mine, hard, his tongue diving, hands everywhere at once, but not fast enough.

  I wrapped my entire self around him, whimpering against his muscular grip. He heard my protest, relaxing his hold just slightly before dropping over me on the bed.

  “It’s a paradox,” he fired between kisses. I tried to comprehend his words, but when my fingers made contact with his hard, cut biceps, some kind of fever took over my response. I tore away at his surcoat, groaning as he rocked against me with every plunging kiss.

  I loved my husband with all of my heart. As with any marriage, the time that passed had settled our passion into devotion, a patent of feelings mixed with movements that became the way we were. Our lovemaking had never needed anything new. We were enough for each other, and even when I was so angry at him for some stupid reason, he still had the ability to ignite the flame that we had found long ago on the shores of Emerald Isle.

  Tonight, whatever was happening, the magic, the chemistry, the illusion of the world around us, turned us into strangers. We touched for the first time, felt for the first time, and I died a thousand deaths just waiting for him to live inside of me.

  He was familiar, but not. He was West, but… not. His longer, sand-gold hair fell across my face as he kissed me, and his blue eyes were clear enough to reveal my own reflection. When his mouth lowered, dragging over my breasts, his calloused hands weighing first one and then the other, I arched my back against him. He continued over my thighs, and I moaned and fell back, closing my eyes. He parted me with his fingers, tasting, and I moaned as his tongue flickered over the most sensitive part of me.

  “Roses,” he murmured, and the vibration of his voice sent tremors from his lips to my navel. I writhed beneath him as he explored, coaxed, setting me on fire in the middle of nowhere, and we were lost in time

  “West, please,” I begged him, pleading. I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted him, and he obliged, thrusting, filling me so completely that I began to cry.

  “I’ll protect you,” he kissed away the tears as a myriad of emotions, memories, thoughts, and fears mingled with his movements and my need.

  I was overcome.

  He smothered my fervent scream with his mouth, and I continued to cry even after he rolled over and pulled me into his arms.

  He held me, so close, and I could feel the tension in his body as I let go of all I’d been holding back. Kissing my temple, he continued to thread his fingers through my hair.

  “She’s gone… Violet,” I breathed, choking on my own sorrow. He tightened his hold on me, making a small sound in his throat as he tried to calm me. “Eva and Christopher are too young to have to mourn like this. The three of them are so close, and Eva is… pregnant?” I shook my head, feeling his heart beating against my cheek. “We have to go to Icepond. We have to make Asher help us.”

  “I know, baby. I was thinking the same thing.”

  “And you have to get my sword.” I lifted my eyes to his, finally controlling my tears.

  “Roam.” He continued to brush his strong, calloused hand over my hair, breathing evenly, willing me to breathe evenly. “This is the beginning. Everything we did… so many years ago, in Icepond, is playing out. I was telling Logan… it’s some kind of paradox. I can only hope that we changed something, this time.”

  “So we continue to live these lives, again and again?”

  “That’s my theory. But this time… this is the eighth life, Roam. You almost died in that castle. Asher turned back time, and you lived. I don’t think you were supposed to. I think Troy and his army would have killed me and Logan, and then Eva and Violet when he found them in the sword room. Earth would have burned. But we changed things… Eva is alive, and our child will save the world, remember?”

  I pressed my forehead into his chest. “I’m hurt.” I shifted uncomfortably, and he exhaled a small laugh, tenderly kneading his fingers into my back.

  “Come on, baby. You’ve had two kids.”

  “With epidurals.”

  “Well, I’m not done with you.”

  “I hope you’r
e never done with me, Mr. Perry.”

  At my words, he groaned, lifting me more fully into his arms.

  “Don’t call me that while you look… like you did, in my classroom.”

  I widened my eyes, searching his. “But I like it when you teach me.”

  “Jesus Christ, Roam.”

  He made love to me for hours, and I came alive. The fog of years of medication, haunting delusions, and nightmares fell away, and I experienced every sensation with destroying clarity.

  And I never once fainted.

  As the candles in the room melted to their waxen ends, he kissed me, slow and sweet, before climbing out of bed. “I’ll see you downstairs. Breakfast. Keep eating, keep breathing. Understand me?”

  “Yes.” I tugged at the sheets, sighing. “What about this mess? There’s blood on these sheets. My ladies will know what I did.”

  He cupped my chin in his hand, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. “Girls have been menstruating for centuries. Lie.”

  I nodded, dragging my fingernails along his stubble. “Please check on Logan, okay? I’m worried about him.”

  “I will.” He agreed.

  “And West?” I met his eyes. “I was thinking about Troy.”

  His face darkened. “Last night?”

  “What? God- no,” I cringed. “No, when I was waiting for you. I’m thirty-six years old. He’s eighteen. From what my ladies tell me, he’s desperately in love with me. He hasn’t hurt me… yet. If I’m careful, I don’t think he will.”

  West stared at me, unblinking. “You’re not afraid of him?

  I took a steadying breath.

  “I’m not afraid of Troy. Not like this,” I added. “He’s young, and he believes that I love him. He won’t hurt me,” I said, rolling my shoulders back and lifting my chin. “I own him.”

  Anger darkened his gaze. “And if he touches you?”

  “He will, West.”

  The sharp planes of his tensed muscles contracted all over his body. “He won’t.”

  I lowered my eyes, feeling so embarrassed, so ashamed, but unable to think of any other way. “He’s going to. Maybe it’s best that you’re away when it happens.”

  Slowly, the bed began to quake. I gripped the comforter, pulling away from the edge of the bed. An earthquake? I jumped and screamed as a chair went flying across the room and smashed into the stone wall. “I’ll fucking kill him before he-”

  “-stop. Just stop.” I shook my head, my hair falling in waves over my shoulders. The quaking had stopped, and I wondered if I had imagined the whole thing. “Just come back to me. Please. Knowing you’re absolutely coming back will make it better. I just have to… disappear. Like I did before. Close my mind.”

  He listened, watching me with deep, panting breaths. He had a temper, he’d always had a temper, but never with me- and never this severe. I watched his towering, masculine body, naked in the thin threads of early morning light, stand over me.

  And I stirred.

  I haven’t felt like this in years. Our sex life had gone from romantic, to difficult, to very, very bad (after I began hallucinating and seeing Troy) to romantic again over the years. Now, watching him stand there, seething, furious, damp with sweat and anger and me, I clenched my thighs together as a delicious, mind-numbing heat pooled in my stomach. I dropped back to one elbow.

  “More, West. Please.”

  He gave a low, throaty groan, and was on me in seconds. “What in the hell is wrong with me? I can’t think. I just want to break things and fuck you,” his teeth nipped at my neck, my earlobe, and his strong hands grabbed for my breasts.

  “I feel the same way,” I breathed, wrapping my legs around his waist. I was tender and sore and so raw, but this new, insatiable lust for my husband won over any physical obstacles.

  I let go of a scream that was surely heard throughout the castle. He smothered it with his hand, his fingers pushing into my mouth, and I cried out as I exploded with him again.

  We lay in the bed, limbs entangled, and I brushed my left thumb over my ring finger. When I realized my wedding ring was gone, the heavy reality around us weighed on my chest, laboring my breaths.

  “He won’t marry you until I return. The men say I am his favorite. I’m his closest friend.” West’s voice was muffled in my ears by my thumping heart. “You’ll be safe until your wedding night. And hopefully, by then, Eva will get us out of here- and you’ll have your sword.”

  I stared at the window, watching snowflakes swirl and slide against the glass.

  “I won’t need my sword. I’m going to kill him from the inside out.”

  He turned to me sharply. I continued to focus on the smooth lines of the stone wall.

  “Be careful, Roam. Don’t make him angry.”

  The smallest ray of light burst through the gray clouds, drawing a thin line through the glass.

  “I won’t make him angry.” Turning to West, I met his eyes. “I’ll make him suffer.”

  Chapter Five

  Logan

  The sureties of alcohol’s effects were timeless. Without universal boundaries.

  And I got fucking drunk.

  I hated. I hated that my wife lay, cold, in some other time, without a heartbeat.

  I hated that my babies were alone, without her, without me.

  I told you to stay. Over and over again I blamed her for everything. I blamed my brave, beautiful wife for her own death.

  When I should be blaming myself.

  Wynn’s taking care of Rose. I knew she was capable, and loved her little sister more than anything. I was so lucky to have both of them, safe, healthy… and protected.

  Immortal.

  “Your highness, the storm still rages. Travel shall be impossible, at least for three days time.”

  I threw back another mug of ale, the same trash beer-ish substance I’d learned to appreciate during my months of servitude (imprisonment) in the castle before. “I understand,” I muttered, turning away.

  West and Roam were somewhere in the castle screwing their brains out, and I was here, picking up the pieces of the fucking prophecy once more.

  A paradox. Some kind of loop. No wonder we all looked so familiar to Troy in this last life. Because we are… us. I laughed at the sentence, the entire realization, and the situation. Troy had loved her, and she returned, hating him.

  Of course she did.

  “Might I ease your sorrows, your highness?” A wench appeared to my right with another mug of beer, and I turned to her, my eyes skimming over her abundant curves and unwashed hair.

  “Go away.”

  She started at my growl, offended, remembering to curtsy quickly before skittering away.

  Violet. God, Vi… I nearly cried, right then and there, as I thought of her smirking lips… her warm body. She knew me, knew me more than anyone ever could, and forgave me for being the soulless monster that I was. She gave me two amazing daughters, and in my life filled with beauty, I forgot the ugliness of what lurked deep inside of me.

  I forgot how terrible I could truly be.

  We stayed for three days. In those days, I watched Roam and West dance together, tease each other, and completely lose themselves in some kind inevitable lust that had them sneaking off to fuck several times a day.

  Meanwhile, I learned the names of every soldier, their ranks, their stories…

  And I learned about my brother.

  Troy.

  He is youthful in age, but mature in experience.

  His temper is fierce. Severe. He is not to be defied.

  She is his only weakness.

  On the third day, I watched Roam sitting close to her mother. I hadn’t seen Mrs. Camden since I was eleven years old, over twenty-five years ago. She looked the same as she did when I knew her, before she stopped coming out of the house and got very sick. I knew Roam wanted to spend as much time with her as possible, but seeing her say goodbye to her mother was heartbreaking.

  West was using all of his restraint to
not go to her and comfort her in the procession of farewells. She clung to her mother, crying. I knew she was thankful to have a second goodbye, but it didn’t make it any easier to climb onto the massive, wooden ship.

  Not an hour into the voyage, West joined me on the deck. “She’s seasick.”

  “What? She doesn’t get motion sickness,” I argued.

  “She does now.”

  I sighed. His blonde brows snapped together, and I watched him turn to me. “Logan, this voyage to get her sword is expected to take a week. He is waiting to marry her until I return, so I can stand by his side.”

  “That’s what I hear.” The soldiers gossiped like teenage girls, so I’d already learned that information on day one.

  “Logan…,”

  “I know, protect her, don’t let him touch her,” I mumbled, shrugging. “I did such a great job last time.”

  “That’s not what I was going to say.” He swallowed, and I watched his gigantic arms flex as he gripped the railing of the ship. “Logan, thank you for taking care of her back then. You did care for her. Like I told you before- you kept her alive. I don’t know what she would have done to herself if it weren’t for you.”

  I clenched my fists, turning back to the sea. The scars on her body, from when she’d been cutting herself, were burned into my memory. That body was left behind in the castle when Asher turned back time…

  And I was afraid she’d fall right back into it when we returned to Icepond.

  “And thank you for loving my daughter the way you have.” His voice broke, and I could see his throat constricting. “Eva will fix this. I know she will.”

  “Eva has no idea what she’s doing.”

  He tensed. “She’s trying her best.”

  “She could be dead. They all could be dead. Who knows how long we’ve already been gone. While you and Roam were fucking your brains out for three days, years could have passed. Are we in a past life, or the past? Who fucking knows. All I know is, I’m preparing for a war. If I’m stuck here, I’m going to kill Troy myself and rule this land.”

  West turned to me quickly, fury flickering in his expression. I hated that her blue eyes started back at me.

  Violet’s blue.

 

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