Warrior Lover (Draconia Tales)

by Karilyn Bentley

  A disturbance shivered the air around him and Aryana appeared. Her green eyes narrowed, she took two steps toward him and slapped him across the face.

  “What in the name of the Goddess was that for?” Enar rubbed his sore cheek. Who knew the female could wield a slap that hard?

  “How dare you upset Lily! I can’t even get a word out of her, she’s sobbing so hard.”

  He rubbed at the ache that grew in his chest with her words. “So how do you know it’s my fault?”

  “Who else’s fault would it be?”

  She had him there. Not that he’d admit it. “I need to talk to Thoren.”

  “Thoren’s busy with Keara. You’ll be lucky to see either of them for a week. Who you need to speak with—”

  He cut her tirade off in mid-sentence. His news being more important than her rant. “Some Watchers are talking about killing Draconi in order to stop guarding them and my mother has Draconi blood.”

  Ari paused, one finger hanging mid-point, her narrowed eyes growing wide, her mouth gaping. In two heartbeats, her mouth closed, her hand fell and she started blinking.

  “What?”

  “I said—”

  “I heard what you said! I don’t understand. Explain.”

  Enar told her everything he knew, which wasn’t much. The longer he talked the more disturbed she looked, her face turned red, steam wisped out her ears, the corner of her lip pulled back into a snarl.

  Beware the she-dragon.

  “What? I can’t believe they would do that! Are they crazy? I can’t decide what part of that bothers me the most. They’re both...By the Goddess.” Ari put both hands to her temples and ran them backward over her head as she took a deep breath. “The first thing that needs to be done is to safeguard our people. We’ll need to speak with the Council.” Her tone of voice suggested eating rotten trash had more appeal. She shivered.

  “I know. I’ll see if any of the Watchers on the Council know what’s going on.” Specifically his father.

  Ari nodded. “I suppose I’ll need to go see the Council too. They might actually want my help. You have no idea how much I dislike talking to them.”

  “Why?” Good to know he wasn’t the only one who didn’t enjoy meeting with the Council.

  “It’s complicated.”

  Ari headed for the back gate of the Temple Courtyard, which opened to the path leading to the Council’s Chamber. Had it only been four days earlier Enar walked this path? Seemed like a lifetime. Once he finished telling the Council about his mother and the rebellion, he could work on the more important issue of winning Lily back.

  Somehow he’d figure out a way to convince Lily she belonged to him.

  Or else learn to live with chest pains and a feeling of idiocy.

  Aryana paused in front of the great doors to the Council’s chamber as if waiting for him to open them for her. Enar put both hands on the doors to push them open—nothing like a dramatic entry to get the males’ attention—when he noticed the tenseness of her jaw.

  “You really don’t like them, do you?” Why did she dislike the Council so much?

  “As I said, it’s complicated. But here we are. Carry on.” She waved a hand in the direction of the door and took a deep breath.

  Might as well get it over with.

  He threw the doors open and took a step into the circular chamber. It might have been a bit more dramatic if he’d let Aryana walk through first, but the crash of wood against stone managed to startle the group of males hunched over a table in the middle of the room. Equally startled, Enar stared at the males, who were playing cards. Cards?

  What happened to the endless hours of plotting and scheming? Of sending spies out to search for Halflings?

  Dismay froze his limbs until he saw his father’s face. Viktor turned to look at him, straightening from where he leaned over Balthor, staring at the Draconi’s cards. Viktor sneered and Enar felt his anger snap. How dare Viktor take an oath to guard the Draconi and their females and yet abuse one as his claim?

  Why had he ever thought he’d find acceptance in his father’s eyes?

  The man was an ass’s arse.

  Enar lunged. Two strides and his fist slammed into his father’s jaw, rocking the older male into Balthor. Viktor righted himself with a roar, one hand reaching for his dagger.

  “Die, you son of a misbegotten whore!”

  Enar jumped out of Viktor’s reach, red clouding his vision. All those years wasted, wishing for his father to say one kind word to him. What a fool he’d been. His longing obscured him from noticing the evil consuming Viktor.

  His father took a step in and stabbed up toward Enar’s stomach. Enar hopped to the side and with a circular motion of his arm, pushed aside Viktor’s thrust, his forearm colliding with his father’s.

  “Stop!” Alviss yelled and all motion ceased.

  Enar stared at Viktor as his father snarled at him. The anger drained from him along with the red haze of his vision, leaving him filled with pity. Pity for the man who never cared to know him. Pity for Viktor’s rage, his hate, his inability to love.

  Why did the man dislike him so much?

  Thump, step, step, thump. Enar cut his gaze to the sound, watching as Alviss shuffled into view, leaning on his cane, his feet dragging with his elderly steps.

  “What is this about?” As usual, magic layered the old male’s voice, sending a shiver down Enar’s spine.

  “This whore’s son hit me! I was defending myself!”

  “Maybe if you’d stop calling my mother a whore...”

  “Enough!” Alviss glared at them both. “This is the Chamber of the Council, not a chamber of airing family grievances.”

  “This male is not my son.” Viktor spat, the spittle landing on Enar’s foot.

  Enar felt his heart stop. A collective gasp rose from the Watchers at the words and their meaning. A meaning the Draconi clearly didn’t understand.

  Alviss huffed. “Viktor, you know that to be a lie. All with eyes can see he is your son. A twin couldn’t look more like you. I do not understand the differences between you two, but I ask you not to air those differences in this chamber. Understand?”

  Viktor stared at Alviss for a long minute while the rage cleared his features into a tight mask. He gave a curt nod. Alviss turned to Enar, who still reeled from Viktor’s words. Not his son? Did the elderly Draconi realize what Viktor did when he spoke those words?

  Probably not, but he soon would.

  And Enar would face the consequences, but not now. Now he needed to tell what he knew.

  Enar crossed his arms. “I learned something from my mother today that caused my reaction.”

  Alviss’s eyebrows rose. “Oh? Because hitting another in these chambers is a pretty strong reaction for anything your mother could have told you.”

  “She has the Draconi mark and according to her, Viktor knew and claimed her anyway.”

  That tidbit of news managed to quiet Alviss.

  For all of three seconds.

  “What?” Alviss turned to Viktor, his eyebrows two questioning slashes.

  Viktor paled and licked his lips. “He’s lying. If I had noticed the mark I would have brought her to you. You know that.”

  A card fluttered off the table and landed on the floor in the silence. Enar kept his eyes locked on Viktor, watching his father’s chest rise and fall, the snarl on his lips, the fleeting glimpse of shock and fear drift through the rage in his gaze.

  “Let the woman speak for herself.” Aryana’s voice echoed in the chamber and all eyes turned to her, as if noticing her for the first time.

  “High Priestess. It’s a pleasure to see you here.” Alviss’s lips curved, the expression going no further than his mouth.

  Aryana’s head dipped. Only because she had been his lover could Enar see the fine tremor that shook her. He doubted the others noticed. Her demure appearance, hands folded in front of her body, a hint of a smile on her lips, belied the strength and magic that r
an within her. Along with a ribbon of fear and a cord of anger.

  “It is nice to see you again, Alviss. Did you want to bring the woman in question to these chambers, or shall I?” She held Alviss’s stare.

  What was it between those two?

  Alviss gestured, palm up, at Ari. She nodded and motioned for Enar to stand next to her. One hand grasped his wrist, a little too hard for his liking, fingers digging into his flesh. Green eyes bored into his and images of his mother popped into his mind as if sprung from hiding.

  Aryana closed her eyes, and Enar felt her power beat against his skin where her fingers touched. A shimmer in the air congealed into a dusty mass that grew into a figure. The figure hunched over, hands shielding her ears, her mouth opened in a scream. The notes flew to the ceiling, hovering, gaining strength, before raining down upon them like hail in a storm, crashing into the marble floors, the echo dying into silence.

  Her necklace dropped to the floor with a clatter, drawing flinches from the Watchers. Ayla straightened one slow inch at a time, her hands dropping to her sides, fright written on her features as clear as words in a book. Looking around the chamber at the males gathered, the blood left her face when she saw Viktor. Tremors moved her limbs and she took a step back, wrapping her arms around her waist. Enar yanked his wrist from Ari’s grasp.

  “Mother!” His legs ate the distance between them and he gathered her in his arms. Why had he never noticed how thin she was, how her shoulder blades stuck out in sharp planes against his skin? What kind of son was he? Her hands grasped his shirt as she fell into his embrace.

  “Where am I?” Her gaze rose to his.

  “The Council’s Chamber on the grounds of the Draconi Temple.”

  “Draconi?”

  Shivers convulsed her body as she dropped her head against his chest. A deep breath gasped into her lungs, followed by another and Enar smelled the stench of fear in her sweat.

  “Don’t worry. No one here wants to harm you.” Except for Viktor. As if he would tell her that.

  “The Draconi want to kill me,” she whispered against his shirt.

  “What?”

  She drew in a shaky breath and pushed away from him. Looking him in the eyes, she placed a hand against his cheek, the edges of her mouth turning slightly upward in her pale face.

  Before his lips could form words, her hand dropped as she looked over his shoulder. “I am ready.”

  “Good,” Enar jumped as Alviss spoke from behind him.

  It took a lot to startle a warrior like himself, but Alviss managed. And with only one word.

  Pay attention, Enar.

  Alviss held his hand out to Ayla. “Please give me your left hand.”

  Drawing in a shaky breath, Ayla placed her hand in Alviss’s. With his opposite hand, Alviss touched the black mark on her forearm and shut his eyes. Ayla stiffened, her breath rushing between her teeth in a hiss.

  After seeing Keara experience the same thing, Enar knew Alviss wasn’t hurting his mother, but he felt a strange surge of protectiveness toward her. Not like the feeling he experienced with Lily where he’d kill any bastard who came near her, but close enough. It had been years since he felt that way toward Ayla, years since he watched his father beat her, unable to help.

  All he received for his trouble was a busted nose. A broken wrist. Bruised ribs.

  Viktor looked none too happy about Alviss’s find-the-Draconi-blood-by-touching-the-mark spell. Or maybe the sour face was due to the bruise budding across his jaw.

  Enar glared back at his father, meeting the older man’s gleaming hatred and returning it with some of his own. In one instant, the man turned Enar’s dream of acceptance into ash, banishing him from the Watcher’s village.

  For as long as Enar remembered, Viktor insinuated Enar was not his son, although today was the first time he said it. And once the shock faded, anger took its place. He’d hoped with Lily as his claim to gain his father’s acceptance, but that goal remained impossible.

  And after the revelations of today, did he really want Viktor’s acceptance? What kind of man took a female with Draconi blood and claimed her? And abused her? Even if she wasn’t a Draconi, no man should abuse their claims the way Watchers did. Why didn’t he understand that earlier?

  He should be glad Viktor banished him, but a small part of him longed for his father’s acceptance, acceptance that would never come.

  Startled out of his thoughts by a movement, Enar turned to Alviss, seeing small whiffs of steam drift out the ancient Draconi’s ears.

  Alviss dropped Ayla’s arm and grabbed her necklace off the floor. As if noticing for the first time it no longer hung around her neck, Ayla slapped a hand against her bare throat as Alviss dropped the strand of beads into her other palm, closing her fist around it.

  “Thank you, Ayla. Please go with Aryana and she will tend to your needs.”

  Well, what do you know? Sound can come out of lips pursed together tighter than a rich man’s money bag. Although Alviss should watch that throbbing vein in his forehead. Enar didn’t blame Ayla for moving quickly to Aryana’s side.

  A quick glance at Viktor showed fury flashing through his eyes as he watched Ayla move to where Aryana stood. Amazing her necklace came off while Viktor still lived.

  And Lily had kept his necklace, even though the clasp broke when he died. Which meant she liked him.

  Right?

  Yes, there was hope for him yet.

  With a nod to Alviss, Ari grabbed Ayla’s hand and transported them both out of the chamber.

  With his mother taken care of, Enar turned to his other topic of business. “I have heard a group of Watchers are plotting to kill Draconi so they no longer have to guard them.” His voice cut into the silence like etching on glass.

  Gasps met his announcement. Enar looked at the Watchers, relieved to see all but one looking like they’d been slapped silly. Whether his father was in on the plotting or still upset about Ayla’s revelation and losing her as his claim was hard to tell, but Viktor’s gaze snapped to Enar. The fury and hate in those narrowed eyes almost caused Enar to take a step back.

  One finger pointed at Enar and before anyone could formulate words to his announcement, Viktor took a step toward him.

  “Liar! This male, who calls himself a Watcher, but who is not, has made up these lies! Do not believe him. All know Watchers guard Draconi. All know we are happy to do so. Do not believe this liar!”

  He cursed. How many times in one day can a Watcher—for that was who he was no matter what his old man said—be stunned into silence? His entire life, he’d watched Viktor. Watched the man talk, walk, and fight. Watched him so much he knew what every nuance meant.

  And Viktor was lying.

  Obviously, not every Watcher was happy about guarding Draconi.

  “Silence!” Alviss barked. “I don’t want to hear another word out of you until I ask.” Viktor seethed, but remained quiet.

  As if he had a choice. Laced with magic, Alviss’s command would remain in place until he spoke otherwise.

  “Who knows about this?” Alviss turned to the Watchers, but they looked as shocked as the Draconi. Even Viktor acted shocked.

  Should he point out Viktor’s lies? Maybe not. Viktor might be lying when he said he was happy to guard Draconi, but that didn’t mean he plotted with the others to kill them. For now, Enar would keep his mouth shut.

  Alviss turned at an arthritic pace to face Enar. “How do you know about this if they don’t?”

  “I was told a group of Watchers planned to overthrow the Draconi’s rule and be free to do what they wanted.”

  “And you learned this, how?”

  “I ran into a lad who mentioned it and asked if I was of that mind-set.”

  “A lad?” One of the Watchers asked. “How do you know he spoke the truth?”

  “Even if he didn’t, shouldn’t the threat be assessed?”

  “True words,” Alviss thumped around to look at the Council, his gaze fas
tening on one of the Watchers. “Perhaps you, Oren, should confirm this threat.”

  “As you wish.” Oren nodded his head in acceptance.

  “Now back to the other issue.” Alviss leaned on his cane as he glared at Viktor. “Speak in your defense, Viktor, as to why you claimed and abused a Draconi female.”

  Viktor paled. “She didn’t have the dragon-shaped mark on her forearm. Plenty of people have black, blobbed birthmarks. How was I supposed to know she was Draconi without the usual mark?”

  “So you save your abuse for those you claim as your mate?”

  Viktor snarled. “My claims are my business, not yours.”

  “Do you deny abusing them?”

  “I refuse to answer that question. It has nothing to do with what you accuse me of.”

  “It has everything to do with it. No woman should be abused, especially by her mate.”

  “Thank you for the morality lecture.”

  Steam wisped around Alviss’s head. “Don’t backtalk me!”

  Viktor swallowed the snarl rolling his lip. “Our women are clothed and fed and keep sequestered for their own security. I assure you, they are well.”

  “Ayla was not well. How do you explain that?”

  “She fell and broke bones. Hardly my fault.”

  “All your fault. You think I didn’t see what you did?”

  Viktor pointed a finger at Alviss. “You lie! You could not see into her mind without her permission. She didn’t give you permission.”

  “Think you my magic is as weak as my body?” The quiet, flat tone of Alviss’s voice had Enar taking a step back. The air warped around him, heating until Enar thought his skin might blister.

  “No offense,” Oren offered, his words stopping the oncoming Draconi about to charcoal a Watcher session, “but Viktor has a point. Even those we question give permission for a mind search.”

  “Permission is a courtesy, not a condition. How could you not realize how he abused his claim?”

  “Surely you cannot expect us to know what goes on between every Watcher and his claim?” Oren crossed his arms. “Do you know what goes on between every Draconi male and his mate? No? Then how can you expect the same from us?”