by Stacy Reid
Take. It taunted.
He would deliver her to Gidon, outline the terms of their bargain, and let him as the Ricarkri sort it out. Drac’s only need was to find the assassins of the fallen king. Drac glided around her and swung her in his arms, moving with speed to deliver her to castle Kerberos.
***
Saieke’s gasp of fright broke off, the wind choking her breathing. She belatedly realized the Darkan held her in his arms, moving at a speed that defied comprehension. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly to prevent the dizziness from overcoming her. Her head spun and her empty stomach roiled. Interminable minutes passed before he came to a stop and she stumbled as he set her down.
Saieke’s breath exploded on a hoarse gasp and it took precious seconds to gather her composure. She stood in a great hall of immense proportions. Dozens of great torches adorned the walls, lighting the castle. She twisted sharply and came face to face with her rescuer. Obsidian eyes, devoid of emotion, returned her regard unflinchingly, and Saieke felt as if she stared down the abyss of darkness. She sucked in an audible breath, and heat climbed her neck. He was so dark, yet pale. He was garbed in black trousers, silver undershirt and black waist coat. His hair, the color of midnight, was shorn close to his scalp, his skin so pale Saieke swore she could see a spidery network of veins, but it was his eyes that caused her heart to jerk in its erratic pattern—they gazed cold and pitiless.
He stood lean and sleek with coiled muscles like the great cats in her courtyard. He should be beautiful, but impossible for him to be described so. The blades of his face were sharp, and there was a slant to his lips that screamed viciousness. The black mark that ran from his temple and curved down to stop at his cheekbone was in stark contrast against his pale skin.
Predator. No doubt existed in Saieke’s mind. She inhaled to steady her nerves and the pounding of her heart. For it was a war drum in her ears. He had to hear it with the reputed enhanced hearing of Darkans. She prayed that was a rumor. At the gentle clearing of a throat, she spun around and nearly fainted. In front of her stood another Darkan. Her heart rate doubled as trepidation sank in and built steadily.
“Drac, report,” the man commanded.
His name was Drac.
“Princess and heir to the Borean throne was pursued by the Mevia Empire into our territory, and she bargained for sanctuary.”
“Bargained?” the newcomer silver eyes blazed as he asked the question.
“Sanctuary for several jars of her kingdom’s elixir, and I accepted.” The inflection in her rescuer’s voice indicated deep satisfaction.
Saieke schooled her expression as the Darkan stepped forward and executed a sharp bow. His eyes flicked to her armband and over her in a quick, but thorough, assessment. She hated the stab of dread his quick appraisal wrought.
“Princess Saieke El Shyokara of Boreas, welcome to our kingdom,” he greeted. “I am Gidon Al Shra, King and Ricarkri of the Darkage.” Eyes the color of liquid mercury captured hers and the power that emanated from the king slapped at her.
Saieke dipped into a curtsy, her stomach knotting in hard cramps of fear because he knew her name and title, enough to greet her, yet she had not known the Darkage had a king. “Thank you for your greetings and sanctuary, King Gidon Al Shra. My kingdom thanks you for your generosity.”
She straightened in time to see a hard smile slash his lips. He would have felt her fear. At least she thought so. Rumors be damned. Her ignorance of their true nature increased her heart rate in bounds.
“Follow me, Princess. We will see to your comfort and speak more on this bargain.” He walked away down the hall, no he undulated, grace and power rolled in one package.
A soft sigh escaped her lips as she followed the king, refusing to look behind her to see if her rescuer followed. She was relieved that the king accorded her the honor befitting her rank. The stories she had grown up on had led her to believe Darkans were huge hulking beasts with black eyes and fangs, and they lived in caves and holes in the ground.
The appearance of the castle also profoundly shocked her. Several torches illuminated the interior, throwing its beauty into stark relief. Its graceful arches and doorways were certainly impressive. Beautiful tapestries graced the stone walls, their colors magnificent, and the cloth rich and vibrant, unlike anything she had ever seen. A hulking sculpture of a three headed monster, without a doubt the sigil of the house, glared with malevolent intent. Despite that, the castle’s elegance and beauty were undeniable.
Despite his apparent civilized appearance and accommodations, she was sure the king would not understand she had no current way of fulfilling her promise. Her mind hazed over from exhaustion. She needed a bath to remove the filth and grime from her battle, food, and possibly sleep, before she could even begin to work out a solution to her predicament. They entered an antechamber where the king gestured for her to sit, with her rescuer positioning himself at the door.
“Now let’s iron out our bargain,” the king said.
Kings’ teeth, Saieke swore, so much for honoring her rank and first seeing to her comfort. “I…certainly.”
Shadows seemed to dance in the room, alive from the one great torch that blazed in the room. The chamber was quite large, with a raised dais, several chairs and a throne made from bones? A banquet lay in the center of the room filled with lemon tarts, fruited bread with cheese, roasted duck stuffed with almonds and apples, and ruby red liquid which she hoped was wine. Her nerves needed fortifying.
“Be seated princess. Eat and drink your fill.”
She sat in the great chair facing the entrance, burying all anxiety as she faced King Al Shra. Her stomach was knotted by too many nerves to eat now, but desperate to appear unflappable, she reached for a sweet and delicately bit into a lemon tart. Sweetness with a harsh tang of citrus burst over her tongue, and her stomach did an embarrassing rumble of appreciation.
Her rescuer lounged at the door, his gaze tracing her lips and neck. Unbidden interest rushed through her, and the low tug in her womb had nothing to do with fear. She cleared her throat. “I thank you for your kindness King al Shra. My journey has been an exhausting one, and I welcome the respite.” She stared at him in what she hoped was a steady fashion.
“I am eager to hear of the bargain brokered Princess.”
She took a chalice of wine and sipped to soothe the nervousness she wanted hidden. After placing the chalice on the table and dabbing crumbles from her mouth, she squared her shoulder. “While leaving Boreas my Queen’s blades and I were unexpectedly attacked by Mevians. After a brief but vicious battle that left the fate of my blades uncertain, I fled to the inside of your border and this Darkan…”
Saieke stiffened as he appeared in front of her. She tried to hold on to her regal composure. She had not seen him move. How did they do it?
He gave a curt bow. “Drac El Kyn.” The rasp of his voice slid over her, stirring heat. Please, not again. Saieke did not startle when, with a mere blink from her, he was back by the door.
She nodded once, fighting to keep a serene mien. They seemed normal thus far, and she held onto that assurance with all the training that had been imbedded into her as the Princess of Boreas. “Drac El Kyn rescued me, accepting my bargain to honor your kingdom with six jars of elixir.”
“And will your kingdom honor such a bargain?” the king’s voice was flat.
Saieke met the glacier grey of his eyes unflinchingly. “I am my kingdom. Boreas will honor my promise.”
“Will they?” a deadly murmur.
Saieke’s shoulders twitched, then she froze under the focus of their penetrating regard. They did not trust her. Her heart jerked, once, then in a furious rhythm. “I will detail a missive to my king and queen and send my armband as proof of my identity with an emissary from your court. Your emissary will be honored with the jars, I assure you.”
“And where will you be, P
rincess?” the king asked silkily. “Why are you not returning to fulfill your honored oath?”
The menace in his voice had Saieke’s gaze bouncing from the king to Drac. It stopped at her rescuer, and she blanched at the cruelty carved into his features. “I will not be returning to Boreas, your majesty. Please be assured that my bargain will be fulfilled, and the armband I will send with the parchment will be proof that it is a genuine request. It is imperative to the safety of my kingdom and myself that I continue my journey without delay.”
The king’s soft chuckle had dread tightening her stomach. Saieke fidgeted, and she gripped the legs of her caftan as the instinct to flee dominated her thoughts.
“Princess,” the king said. “For your parchment to arrive in Boreas from us would be a declaration of war. The armband of the Princess of Wind in the possession of a Darkan would only bring death; and it would be the death of your people should they march on us. Would you not agree?”
Saieke’s heart stilled at the truth of his words. Her parents would know her writing, and the armband would be proof that it was indeed the princess making this order; but it would be met with suspicion and fear. Kings’ teeth. The nature of her disappearance would imply that Darkans had taken her and now used her for leverage to obtain elixirs from Boreas. Saieke expelled a harsh breath. To fulfill her bargain, she would have to return to Boreas with the emissary. She could not.
“Your Majesty...” She did not bother to brush the curls that fell over her face obscuring her vision. “My kingdom is the Boreas. Honorable, respected, our lineage untarnished by dishonor or treachery, my lieges will honor my word.”
She swayed into the great chair as the import of her words hit her. Untarnished by dishonor. No longer a true statement because of her flight.
“Rumors travel to the shadows of an allegiance between Boreas and Nuria. I am sure you see our predicament, Princess.”
Saieke stiffened.
“You are the word of your kingdom, and the kingdom your words. Yet you flee an oath Boreas has made on your behalf. Do not perceive us as fools.” The harshness of his voice lashed through her like a whip. It cracked in the room and seemed to echo for interminable seconds before fading.
“I would never…”she cleared her throat and continued hoarsely, “my kingdom would never dishonor…” she faltered. They knew she fled from the Nurian king.
King Al Shra’s rage was palpable. Its power raced across her skin prickling it with heat. A terrifying sense of inevitability pressed in on Saieke, and nausea rolled through her stomach. I have to go home. “I am in accord. I will return to my lands to honor the bargain.”
She could feel the satisfaction that permeated the chamber. Saieke remained numb through the drafting of their agreement. The king scrawled his signature with bold grace, and her hands trembled when she signed.
“Ladies in waiting have been assigned to you. Rest Princess Saieke and we will confer when we break our fast.”
“I thank you” she whispered as she rose, exiting the antechamber with several guards leading the way, all hopes of saving her kingdom burned to ashes.
Chapter Four
The chambers were suited to a princess. Great torches and a roaring fireplace blazed, illuminating the dark elegance of the room. Deep vermillion hues, mixed with violet, and the most beautiful silver tapestries decorated the wall. The four poster bed stood high and proud in the middle of the room, with a mound of purple satin pillows with gold fringes piled in its centre of the bed, tempting her to climb on and snuggle into the mound.
The pain of failure and loss raked at her. Saieke slapped a hand over her mouth as a harsh sob ripped from her. She gathered her composure as several ladies in waiting bustled in, moving with grim efficiency.
Saieke went through the motions of refreshing herself, resolutely banishing the dread clouding her thoughts. Several caftans made with luxurious materials the colors of corn silk, gold, and chartreuse were laid on a chaise. Saieke fingered them lightly. Empresses and queens of other kingdoms would pay a fortune to possess such richness in garments.
“A gift from our castle ladies,” one of the ladies in waiting said.
Saieke’s smile was strained. “Please convey my enjoyment to the ladies of the castle.”
“Yes, your highness.” They dipped in graceful curtsies and then departed.
She lay on the bed restless, unable to sleep. Even though fed and refreshed, exhaustion still weighed on her. It was not mere fatigue, it was failure. Her harsh breathing mingled with the cackling of the fireplace. I’ve failed. My people will be burned because of my ineptitude, and Kamu and Thyon have sacrificed their lives for naught. She bit her bottom lip until she tasted blood.
Saieke flashed off the bed, restless and edgy, pacing the floor with jerky movements. To flee to Earth now would be a folly only an asinine person would undertake. The Darkans would deliver death if the bargain was not fulfilled, yet she could not return home. She would be locked away in one of the towers and only when she was bonded to King Ajali would she have any freedom.
Her lips curled in acute distaste. King Ajali was enormously wealthy and powerful, and his kingdom respected by many. He was over seven hundred years old and already a legend due to his feats in the second Great War, yet she did not want him. He already had an alliance with Aria—the kingdom of earth and sand. Her father must know King Ajali only coveted their kingdom for its wealth. Boreas was bountiful with hundreds of meadows, creeks, rivers and waterfalls that spanned more than a hundred feet in both depth and width. Most precious of all, they had the elixir springs— the most desired commodity Boreas had to offer as a kingdom, which had the ability to heal any wound instantly, and that was what the tyrant king wanted.
The only thing that could prevent their marriage now was to once again try and lose her purity. It would be impossible to find a willing lover in the time it would take for her to return to Boreas to honor the bargain. It had been a daunting task when she had weeks to plot. Now….it would probably be easier to try and flee the Darkage instead of finding someone that would willingly bed her.
No one would touch her for fear of reprisal from the Nurians.
Her mind turned to Drac and she froze. He would not fear touching me. The thought slid insidiously in her mind, lodged itself and flowered. Could she really attempt to entice a man she had no knowledge of? A man she had never conversed with, a man with whom she shared no common interest? He frightened her on a deep visceral level, but the heat in his eyes could not be mistaken, nor the desire that had jerked low in her womb.
She trailed her fingers from her neck to stop above her heart. She did not know why it pounded so when she thought of him. It could be fear, but a part of her whispered that it was sheer fascination.
Could she take a Darkan as her lover? He would be the perfect choice, for there would be no danger of her losing her heart. She had sworn to always be a queen who would rule without the messy emotion of love interfering with her duty to her people. Her grandmother, Lady Ava, was still tormented daily over a choice she made years ago. She’d had the opportunity to save her people, and she’d chosen her consort.
But what did Saieke knew about seduction? Her previous attempts had been sorely lacking. Groaning in exasperation, she flashed onto the bed, and thumped her headrest. She really did not know if she could do it— deliberately take a Darkan for a lover, using him for her purposes. Using him. It was the part she had struggled with so much in her court. What in kings’ teeth was she thinking?
She had to decide on a course of action, or she would return to Boreas on the morn. She went to sleep with the resolve that she would find a way to save her people, at all cost.
***
Drac stood cloaked in shadows on a high turret overlooking the south wing. His beast prowled in the cage of his mind. The princess appealed to him. He could smell her unique and elusive scent from the wes
t tower. Astoundingly beautiful and poised, she had handled herself like a queen in the presence of his king as they drew up the honor bargain.
Drac had felt her distrust, her uncertainty, yet her expression had not betrayed her. If his kind did not feed their beasts with negative emotions, he would have thought her serene and at peace with the bargain. Most would have been paralyzed with fear. Her poise was certainly something to be admired. Or she could be simple-minded and not aware of the precarious position her flight placed her in. He recalled the surge of fear and uncertainty that occasionally flared within her. No, she was aware…just a princess trained.
He felt uneasy since meeting her, and that feeling was anathema to him. Drac scowled. He had never encountered a woman whose scent made his beast uncoil and inhale, which it did several times. Her scent had hit his gut like a rush of negative energy. Something elusive had also lingered beneath her fragrance, something delectable that confounded and aroused him. He snarled, snapping his teeth together, shifting as his trousers tightened against his erection.
Dangerous. What intrigued Drac even more was that he wanted to know about her. Why did she flee her kingdom? Was it to break her kingdom’s pledge to the Nurian king? The princess courted death if she was indeed breaking a blood oath.
Gidon wanted her protected at all times. Warriors had been handpicked by the king himself for her protection. The Princess’s presence would arouse curiosity, fascination, suspicion and rage. Many remembered Queen Sora would still be reigning today if not for Boreas’ bigotry and revulsion. Gidon had selected Lachlan, another enforcer, and their negotiator and peacekeeper, to travel to Boreas. Gidon felt it prudent to not provide any more Darkans on the princess’s return to her kingdom.
