Blood Oath

by Raye Wagner

  My chest tightened both with my grief and the Drae’s hold. How had this happened? I needed someone to help me understand.

  I killed my mother.

  The captain laughed. “She’s gone feral. Better subdue her.”

  Lord Irrik held me close, and his voice wasn’t entirely human when he spoke to the soldiers next, “Get out.”

  His voice resonated through my back, and the three soldiers in the room pushed past one another to get out of the room.

  “Just holler if you need any help,” the captain said from the doorway. “She’s a feisty one. Just the way I like them.”

  The man let his gaze wander over my body, and I stood numb, unable to care. I glimpsed a horde of soldiers outside before the door closed.

  I clenched my teeth. “Let go of me. Now.”

  “No. Be quiet.” His inhuman voice was so soft I wasn’t sure if I was hearing it or feeling it.

  I twisted to free myself, but his grip tightened. I turned my head and tried to elbow him but couldn’t get any force behind the movement.

  Lord Irrik pulled me closer still, and this time I was the one who growled.

  “Keep that up and you’ll only hurt yourself,” he said in an emotionless voice.

  “You killed her,” I ground out between my clenched teeth, staring at her lifeless body. “You said you’d help her and you—”

  “I said to be quiet,” he growled, putting his hand over my mouth. He turned us, his body blocking the view of my mother’s corpse, and put his lips to my ear. “I know you’re in shock, but now is not the time to say something that will get you killed. Your mother just sacrificed herself so you would live. You think she’d want you to throw that away?”

  My rage erupted. “How dare you speak as if you knew her?”

  The black in the room drew into him, made his skin tingle against mine. Monster.

  He whispered, “You should have listened. It wouldn’t have saved your mother, but it would’ve saved you. Now you’ll be going before the king, and I can’t help you there. You need to stop. Right now.”

  I wanted to hurt him so bad. I wanted to curl up in a corner and cry. I wanted to wake up from this nightmare to hear Mum comforting me. He was saying all these things, and I didn’t care.

  “My breath won’t work on you,” he muttered.

  Subdue. That was what the captain had meant. A tiny thrill of defiant triumph ran through me. Irrik couldn’t subdue me.

  “Will you pretend?” he asked in the low tone that left me shivering.

  “Will you bring my mother back?” I turned to glare at him and had the satisfaction of seeing a tiny crack appear in his impassive façade.

  “That’s a no,” he said. “You won’t like the alternative, Ryn. I can make you, and I will if that’s what it takes. Are you sure you won’t help yourself?”

  He seemed to know the answer to that without me vocalizing it. Over my dead body would I go along with anything he said. I didn’t care if I died right here on the spot. I wouldn’t lift a finger to help.

  He sighed, his chest pushing into my back. Then he picked me up, still facing away from him, and walked me to the door. In a fluid movement, he spun me so I faced him, and then he gritted his teeth as he held my arms down by my sides.

  His body boxed me in.

  A new fear unfurled deep inside me as he closed the distance between us. He trailed his nose from my neck to my ear, and my insides melted when he growled, a low, throaty inhuman sound. When he lifted from my neck, his eyes were solid black.

  “This could have been easy. Remember that,” he snarled. His canines lengthened, and black scales appeared across the bridge of his nose. “Let’s hope it works.”

  Shock silenced me as I watched with wide eyes, and my lips parted as I gasped.

  “I’m going to kiss you,” he rumbled.

  What?

  I sucked in a deep breath to scream, and at the same time, I raised my leg to knee him in the groin. But he anticipated my move and pushed his body against mine, pinning me to the wall.

  With a glint in his predatory eyes, he covered my mouth with his.

  Fire exploded between us. I tried to turn away, but he nipped my lip as he raised his hands to hold my face immobile. I pushed uselessly at his chest. But as the kiss went on, I struggled to remember why I wanted to end it in the first place. His tongue brushed against my lips, and I sighed, returning the tender caress languidly.

  He growled again, and the kiss became soft, like the first shadows of dusk. Irrik threaded his hands into my long hair and pulled me to him. I went willingly, wrapping my arms around his neck as we continued our intimate dance.

  Warm lassitude spread like heated honey from my head to my chest to my feet. A part of me was livid, but that small part had little voice now. As the kisses continued, the voice disappeared altogether. I wanted to crawl up into the Drae’s lap and kiss him forever.

  He sighed, and I smiled in triumph. Though why I should feel triumphant was anyone’s guess.

  I laughed at the thought as the door opened behind me, making me stumble forward. Irrik was the most handsome man-person I’d ever seen. How had I not seen it until now? So handsome and so sad. He’d tried to help Mum and me . . .

  “Why are you sad?” I said on a sigh, reaching out to touch his face.

  Irrik’s countenance shifted, and a cold mask dropped over his features. But I could still see the sadness in his eyes. He took a step back, and I followed, wrapping my arms around his waist and leaning my head against his firm chest.

  “You got her good,” the captain said with a chuckle. “We thought you were losing your touch there for a minute.”

  Lord Irrik pushed my hands away, grabbed the captain by the front of his aketon, and pulled him into the room from where he lingered in the doorway. The captain’s face met Lord Irrik’s fist with a resounding crunch. The captain fell to his knees, amid shocked murmurs from the soldiers who had a clear line of sight inside. Irrik wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me from the room, shoving the king’s guard aside.

  I opened my mouth to tell him something. I wanted to say . . . something, but my mind was so fuzzy, like I’d been drinking the brew at Dyter’s. I knew what I wanted was in my brain. I just couldn’t access it. I looked up at Lord Irrik. His jaw clenched, and his eyes flashed fire.

  He pulled me out into the night air, and I sighed as I looked up at the dark sky. So beautiful. I wanted to tell him how the night was my favorite. The warmth that filled me brought comforting peace. There was something particular that should be bugging me, but the feeling continued to elude me. Instead, a deep sense of security settled.

  Lord Irrik was helping me.

  I wanted to kiss him again.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, snuggling closer. My arm was around his waist, my hip pushed to his as we walked side by side.

  He looked down at me, and his eyes seemed to pulse with energy. He shifted his body, increasing the distance between us and said, “To the king.”

  I furrowed my brow, something nagging at me. “Why?”

  “A woman from your house was seen roaming the streets after curfew the last two nights. There have been rebel meetings, and the woman was seen leaving the suspected site of these meetings. There were several persons of interest captured tonight. The king is not ignorant of the revolutionaries.” He scrubbed his face with his free hand. “King Irdelron has asked anyone connected with these rebel peasants be brought in for questioning. You’re coming in because you were too stupid to listen and have forced my hand.”

  “Will he hurt me?” Why did Lord Irrik feel so good? I tried to wind closer to him.

  He glanced behind us, and I followed his lead. Two soldiers followed, and behind them, two more were half dragging the unconscious captain down the dry, dirt road.

  “If you’re lucky, the king will see you’re not a threat.” Irrik studied me, his gaze flicking to my lips and then back to my eyes. “Because you’re not a r
ebel, right, Ryn? You know saying that will get you killed?”

  The darkness of night cocooned us, and I knew Irrik had blocked us from view of the other soldiers. He tipped his head down and pressed his lips to mine. His warmth pulsed through me again, and I stood on my tiptoes to prolong the kiss. When we pulled away, I beamed up at him. “You don’t want me to die?”

  “No,” he said in a quiet voice, eyes sad again.

  “I don’t want to die either. Don’t worry. I’m not a rebel. I’m not a threat. I’m not a woman.”

  He grumbled something under his breath about too much.

  I reached up and patted his cheek. “You’re so much more handsome when you’re not scowling. You shouldn’t be so grumpy.”

  Lord Irrik pulled away, pushing my arm down to my side when I reached for him.

  The darkness dissipated, and the two soldiers dragging the sleeping soldier caught up to us. They were scowling, the same grumpy look Lord Irrik wore.

  The three soldiers were like triples. I should ask the triples. “What happens if the king thinks I’m a rebel?”

  The short man wearing a navy aketon raised his eyebrows. The one wearing green laughed. “You are dead.”

  Irrik snarled and backhanded the young soldier. Then Irrik grabbed my arm, pulling me down the road with him. “Don’t ask them anything. If you want to know, you ask me.”

  I swatted at his hand. “Don’t yank on my arm like that. It doesn’t feel good.”

  He loosened his grip and said, “Come on. We’re nearly there.”

  “Do you want to be happy?” I sighed.

  We came to a stop outside the castle gates. I looked back, surprised we’d come so far in such a short amount of time. I didn’t remember passing through the fountain garden or the Quota Fields after leaving my house. Guards lined the top parapet, their bows drawn and trained on me.

  “You know nothing of happiness. Your life was a lie,” Irrik said to me.

  The words were a slap. Like my mind was snapping back into itself. How dare he? He dragged me across town, after kidnapping me, stealing me, and Mother . . . Horror doused me as pieces of memory came back, one image at a time.

  He’d done something. I tensed as my mind rattled, still in the throes of his kiss fog.

  In a much louder voice, Irrik yelled, “Open the gate.”

  He turned back to me and grabbed my wrist as I shifted my weight to run. What happened to me? I felt my lips. How did he do that? Change my thoughts like that? Make me act like I was drunk. I . . .

  “Ryn,” he said in a voice that brokered no argument. “Look at me.”

  Yeah, right.

  “Drak,” he swore. “How are you doing this?” He pushed his hand into the hair at the nape of my neck as he pressed his weight into me from my chest to my knees. Tingles crawled over my skin, and panic pounded in my chest. I desperately wanted to avoid him. Fear at what was to come bubbled within. Trapped between him and the stone wall, I tried to turn my head. I did not want him to kiss me. I raised my hands to claw at him, and he released my neck to grab my wrists. He pulled my arms up above my head, trapping them in one hand, and threaded his other hand back into my hair.

  “Please don’t,” I begged, tears dripping from my eyes.

  “Shh,” he whispered. “I only want to keep you safe.” Fiery urgency pulsed between us. Irrik’s kisses were harder this time, and I could taste the saltiness of my tears on his lips. He kneaded my back, and his teeth grazed my lower lip.

  My will seeped away until it disappeared. I gripped his arms as my legs decided they were done for the day. But he didn’t stop. His lips were wet and warm, and his tongue teased me, pushing and tangling with mine in a passionate embrace. He drew my lower lip into his mouth, and I groaned with pleasure. Colors and stars burst behind my eyelids. I craved more, some primal instinct urging me closer to the man kissing me, and I pushed into him, pulling him to me.

  Nothing else mattered but this right now. Just him and me.

  “Lord Irrik,” a woman said. “I see you’ve found some prey.”

  8

  Irrik jerked away, holding me at arm’s length, and my body screamed for him. My mind streamlined through the haze. Lord Irrik was all I saw.

  “I need to report.”

  “She’s too pretty—lavender eyes and that long hair,” a woman said with a shake of her head.

  I didn’t care about her.

  “Yes,” Irrik said, jaw clenched. “Can you get her ready?”

  The woman sighed and tugged at my sleeve. “Come with me, missy. You can’t go to the king looking all ‘innocent harvest girl.’”

  The young woman had mousy brown hair drawn back in a low ponytail that accentuated ghastly scars on both her cheeks. Her face was splotchy and her eyes red, like she’d been crying before coming to get me, but the brutality of the scars had me transfixed. Like I was reading a map of some horrific journey she’d endured.

  “Quick now,” she said, pulling me up the courtyard, toward a side entrance into the king’s castle. The way was a blur I knew I’d never be able to retrace.

  I blinked, trying to make sense of her tears. “Did the king do that to you?”

  Her eyes widened, and she darted a glance behind her and then past me before whispering, “Shoot, missy. You don’t know nothing, do you?”

  I shook my head slowly, and my bottom lip trembled as a deep sadness assailed me. What I was sad for eluded me. I only knew that Irrik wanted to help.

  Irrik!

  I whirled, searching for him.

  “He’s gone to report to the king to give us time. I saw that kiss. I’ve never seen him kiss a girl before, just the breath usually. Probably why you’re wavering like you’ve spent three days on the brew. Don’t be angry at Irrik, though. He tries to make it hurt less, and having you look so pretty could make it worse, especially if one of the guards takes a fancy to you. Come on now. Let’s hurry and see what we can do. Won’t be long before the king loses patience, and then no one’s safe.”

  The girl tugged me up two flights of narrow stone steps, squeezing past several other scurrying people. We climbed more intervals of winding stairs before arriving on a long, narrow landing. She ushered me into a small room with a chamber pot and a large shining square object where a girl who looked just like my escort stood next to another girl with hair the same as mine. “There are two of you?”

  The scar-faced girl barked a short laugh. “Never seen a mirror before, have you? Well, don’t fall in love. You won’t look that way for long, but it’s all for your own good.”

  She extracted several jars from an old set of drawers and opened them. Dabbing her fingers into one, she rubbed an ointment on my cheeks and then another one in my eyes. My eyes immediately burned and watered.

  “Mistress Moons, missy. You’re one of those people who look decent when they cry. No good,” she muttered. The girl returned the ointment and grabbed another one.

  This time, my vision blurred and the burning was so fierce I couldn’t open my eyes because of the pain.

  I felt her grab a fistful of my cinnamon hair, Mum’s hair. My heart clenched, and emptiness swirled deep inside. When I heard the sawing of a knife, I tried to twist away.

  “Don’t be moving now. I don’t want to nick you in the neck. Whatever you use to dye your hair has left it a clumped mess.”

  I wiped at my eyes, tears streaming as they tried to clear whatever noxious substance the girl had rubbed there. Something about it smelled like the soap Mum used for my hair, and I wanted to tell the girl about the soap because she was mistaken, it wasn’t dye. Suddenly, my head felt lighter on my left side, and I watched as the heavy strands fell to the floor.

  The stone room stole my attention as I wiped at my blurry eyes again. Despite being a servant’s quarters, it was finer than our house.

  She grabbed another handful of hair so hard my scalp tingled. Confusion overtook the numbness, and I whispered, “Why are you doing this to me?”

&
nbsp; The girl sniffed and continued her snipping. I didn’t for one second think she was feeling sorry for me.

  “What did Irrik drag you in for?” she asked.

  “I’m not a rebel.”

  The woman came around to stand in front of me and lifted my chin, pinching it. “Listen to me, and listen good. There is a one-way path from here. There’s no happy ending for you now, but there are ways to make your life less painful. So, you better get smart quick, missy, or he’ll break you before you can blink.” The girl’s fierce stare turned inward. “He breaks everyone in the end.”

  “Even you?” I mumbled.

  She stepped to the side, revealing the reflective surface. The girl staring back at me had only tufts of brown hair standing in uneven chunks. My eyes, a purple-gray that people described as lavender, were rimmed and puffy, the color now resembling a watery gray. My skin was now the same splotchy color as the girl standing next to me, but mine was still smooth and unmarred.

  The girl studied my appearance with obvious disapproval. Then she answered, “The best you can hope for is to find a place they can’t touch and know the rest isn’t necessary for survival. Your body is a shell. Your skin—the wrapping. Your will, theirs. But somewhere deep inside you, there is a place, whether you see it as the corner of your mind, your heart, your soul, whatever, and that part is yours. That is the difference amongst the people here. Figure out what’s necessary, and let everything else go.”

  She had to be younger than I was, but I felt like a toddler in her presence. Even so, something deep within protested what she said. To give up everything I was except a sliver of my soul? I didn’t think I could live that way. How would I determine what was necessary?

  The girl placed the scissors in the drawer and dusted off her white apron. “I’ve done the best I can with what I’ve got. Now, we need to go. I’m only showing you to the throne room, mind you.”