Provoked (Space Mage Book 1)

by Izzy Shows

  It hurt to think of it, to admit how foolish I had been, but I forced myself to continue, to keep twisting the knife in my gut. It was important that I recognize where I had gone wrong so that I could stop myself from following the same path in the future.

  Yes, I had continued to make excuses—in my mind, then, for I didn't dare to make them to others at that point—for the behavior of my twin. I had told myself all sorts of tall tales to explain away his crimes, and I had held tight to a hope that one day we would be reunited.

  I had prayed to Vivoth and Nytoc day after day, night after night, to give me my brother back. I swore that I would never again complain about having to clean up his messes. I promised to give up my childhood fantasies of leaving Eyrus to travel the stars. I promised anything and everything I could think of.

  Just to have one day, one second, with the loving brother I had known.

  I had to bite my cheek to keep my bitter laughter inside me, so that the creatures I was walking with wouldn't know my thoughts.

  Was he ever loving, Xiva? Or did you imagine all of that as well? Did he ever love you as much as you loved him?

  It didn't matter, because I hadn't gotten my wish. Yes, Vivoth and Nytoc had seen fit to return my brother to me—but in the cruelest fashion possible. Nytoc had Chosen Zvarr and imbued him with the power of the Dark God. I had no notion of when that had happened—whether it had been immediately after Zvarr had abandoned me and gone to live in the wild, to train in secret with the almighty powers he had been given, or if it had been only a recent development, if perhaps Nytoc had given him the powers and at once he had returned to try to seize domination over every living soul.

  I didn't know, and perhaps I didn't need to know, because it had all gone to zut anyway. Zvarr had returned twisted, his soul perverted beyond all redemption, ranting about how he would take the world in the name of Nytoc to prove once and for all that Nytoc was the supreme god.

  How he could not understand that Nytoc and Vivoth were two sides of one coin, equally matched and deserving of equal love and respect, was beyond my comprehension. I had served both gods my entire life, and I had known them well. I didn't understand how Nytoc could have done what He’d done, for He had always been a loving god every time I had interacted with him.

  Never had he treated me poorly. Not even once had I doubted the limitless ability to love that I had known in Nytoc.

  Not until He Chose Zvarr.

  I shuddered at the blasphemous thought.

  No. Nytoc must have His reasons. If this is what He thinks must be done, I must abide by it.

  But it hurt. I was only mortal. I couldn't stop my heart from hurting at the memory of Zvarr's return, of the destruction he had caused, of the lives he had taken.

  Straightening my shoulders, I continued walking, aware that I had strode a little faster than the two smaller creatures were capable of, and I was ahead of them now and they weren't able to try to talk to me.

  That was for the best. I wasn't in a very good mood; I didn't feel up to the act of trading words in our different languages for the various objects we came across.

  The silence was heavy, and I knew they didn't like it, but they bore it well, and at last the High Temple came into view.

  Relief swept through me as soon as my gaze alighted on it. That was my home, and, thank the gods, it was still in good condition. Not as good as I would have liked, though—I could see the way the desert storms had worn away at the stone, how it had begun to crumble with age.

  How long was I in the ground?

  I shook the thought off. It was unimportant in the long run. It didn't matter, not truly, not now that my imprisonment was over and done with.

  Walter and Mersssssee started talking loudly, and at last I slowed my pace so that I was between the two of them again. They pointed at the temple as one, jabbering quickly. Mersssssee's eyes didn't quite match the excitement in her voice, but Walter was practically overflowing with energy.

  I pointed at it as well. "Home," I said. "That's my home."

  He attempted to repeat the phrase, but the soft 's' sounds in the word were beyond him. It was pointless to try to teach him my language, because he would never need it.

  We were all dead.

  The thought was like a stone in my gut, and I had to soldier on through it.

  I heard the warrior mutter something darkly in his harsh language, but I didn't turn around to find out what it was. I probably wouldn't be able to figure it out, anyway. Still, it was the first thing he'd said all day, and my heart twanged again at the isolation he had forced himself into.

  We started up the mountain of sand that the High Temple now rested on, and a renewed vigor filled me. This was my home. This was where I belonged.

  At last, I was coming home!

  But Walter and Mersssssee were having a much more difficult time with the climb. I could hear the way their breathing labored as they fought with the mountain, their limbs clearly not equipped to dance with the sand in the way mine were.

  It filled me with an unfair amount of frustration. It wasn't their fault that they couldn't move adequately, but I wanted to surge ahead and get to the temple. If it weren't for them, I would have flown there so I could get there as quickly as possible.

  Just when I was starting to feel my temper rise and beginning to fight with myself to maintain the balanced calmness that was so important to my people, to my gods, I heard the warrior say something sharply, and then I caught the soft sound of him grunting.

  I turned, not knowing what to expect, and saw that he had both Walter and Mersssssee thrown over his shoulders and was now climbing much faster. I gaped at him.

  I knew he could move across the sand better than they, but how in the name of all that is holy is he doing it while he is carrying them?

  He locked eyes with me, and I saw the fierce determination in his eyes, along with a challenge. He was daring me to say something, anything, against what he was doing.

  I knew I didn't need to do that. Walter and Mersssssee were making a big enough fuss without my adding to it, but all the same, that look in his eyes chilled me to the bone.

  And somehow inflamed me at the same time.

  I felt my skin flare at the hot emotion, and shame rushed through me.

  You cannot respond to a male in this fashion. What has gotten into you? You served five centuries as the High Priestess of the Aelodhari, and never did anyone tempt you in all that time as much as this alien has in a few short days.

  I knew that, but it didn't change the way his voice, his eyes, his every movement affected me. In fact, the look in his eyes and the set of his jaw sent my mind rushing back to the memory of the battle we'd fought together just two days previously.

  The feel of him at my back, the way we had moved as if we were one soul in two bodies, how effortless it was to be beside him…and then the lust. The all-consuming desire that had filled me when I made the final kill, standing over that body and battling with myself to regain control. It had been so difficult, when every inch of me had screamed to take the male who had proven himself worthy of me and give in to the feelings burning inside me.

  It was just the battle. Everyone knows that the heat of battle, the way it gets your blood up, makes people do crazy things.

  But I was the best warrior the Stryx had ever seen. I was the daughter of Ivarr. No one could match me, and I had spent centuries perfecting my self-control. I could fight without so much as a glimmer of emotion flickering inside me.

  So, why had such a simple skirmish evoked such strong emotions?

  Because of him. Because it was him beside you, not anyone else.

  NO.

  I shut the door on those thoughts quickly. I whirled so that I was no longer facing the warrior and sprinted up the mountain as if Nytoc were chasing me.

  To his credit, the warrior reached the gates of the High Temple not long after I did, and he was infuriatingly calm when he did so. He deposited the two aliens in fro
nt of the great doors, saying something to them that seemed to ruffle them even further.

  "I hope the technology still works." I bit my lip as I looked up at the giant doors that led into the temple.

  In the days before, there had been mechanisms inside the temple doors that responded to our magic. The only way to come and go was to use your magic on the technology inside the building.

  It had never seemed strange or alien to me before, because every Eyrusian was born with the innate ability to use magic. It was literally a part of us; we couldn't possibly be cut off from it. I didn't know how to stop using magic any more than I knew how to stop breathing.

  But these creatures I was with clearly did not have the touch about them.

  There is something about him, though. He isn't like the others. Something is off inside him. You can feel it. You can smell it on him. You know he's different.

  I pushed the thought away. The idea that the warrior would be the only one capable of using magic out of an entire species made as little sense to me as the idea of a species that couldn't use magic.

  Without another thought, I raised my hands to the doors and spoke in low, constant tones the spell that would push them open. My energy flowed from my hands in a beautiful display of color, into the openings cut into the tops of the doors.

  For a moment, I thought it might not work, but then the doors began to groan slowly as they worked their way open.

  It clearly had been quite some time since the doors had been used; they seemed to have rusted shut and were not forcing themselves to work again.

  Many years, then. I have been buried for many, many years. How many? Centuries? Oh, gods, I hope I wasn't down there that long.

  The worry rushed through me, but I pushed it aside again. Why should I care how long it had been? It wouldn’t change anything. And yet, my life had been stolen away from me while I was under the ground—if centuries had passed me by, I deserved to mourn them.

  Didn't I?

  My thoughts were interrupted as we walked together into the temple by Walter exclaiming things loudly in his language. He raced ahead of me to the stained-glass windows and jabbered rapidly, then sprinted to a statue to remark on it, and then the altar. He couldn't seem to get enough of the temple.

  I couldn't help but smile in response. His reaction touched my soul. It was so innocent.

  I turned to look at the other two. Mersssssee was subdued, but the warrior looked quite uncomfortable. His features were tight, and his shoulders had tensed up.

  He must not be a religious man, and being in such a holy place must be unsettling for him. Perhaps his entire species was a godless race.

  How sad that must be, to never know the love of the gods. To not feel it in the air around you with every breath you took.

  I couldn't imagine being divorced from Vivoth or Nytoc like that. Even now, I could feel Vivoth's guiding hand, although Nytoc felt distant, almost absent.

  That thought saddened me, weighing on my soul. I had always felt connected to Nytoc, the god of darkness and death, in a way that others couldn't seem to understand. Nytoc was loved by all of our people, for balance was of utmost importance, and you couldn't be balanced if you had more love in your heart for one god than for the other. But it was a fearful kind of love; they distrusted and loved Nytoc, much in the same way that they had distrusted and loved me.

  It was that, beyond the love that I had always felt Nytoc showering on me, that had inspired the connection between the two of us—or at least, I thought it had. It hurt to think that He had deserted me now, but truly, could it be a surprise?

  He had started this war. He had Chosen Zvarr—and those thoughts were like a knife in my gut again.

  I sent them away with a strong mental shake. I was sure I could bring Vivoth and Nytoc together again, and perhaps the godless aliens on my world would find the love of the gods when I did.

  I smiled at the thought. It would be nice to have the world repopulated and once again worshipping the gods. I hoped that the aliens planned to stay; it would be a depressing thing if the world was barren forever. I didn't want to walk the sands for the rest of my life, alone.

  But that might not be up to me.

  Zvarr could kill me, and that would take the matter entirely out of my hands.

  Best not to think of that, though.

  Refocusing myself on the purpose of the mission—to find the scrolls that would give me the time I needed—I started towards the hall that led from the antechamber to the deeper parts of the temple.

  And immediately heard the sounds of two pairs of feet following me.

  I bristled and turned around. Sure enough, the warrior and Merssssssee were following.

  "I am perfectly capable of walking through my temple on my own, thank you very much. I do not need you looking over my shoulder while I go through the holy texts—texts that should not be looked upon by the eyes of those who do not believe," I reprimanded them.

  Neither of them understood me, of course, but Mersssssee immediately took two steps back and said something that sounded apologetic. She certainly looked apologetic, anyway, and I felt a little guilty for snapping at her.

  The warrior, on the other hand, crossed his arms over his chest and regarded me with an eyebrow raised.

  Ugh. He was going to be stubborn, wasn't he?

  "Fine," I said, forcing myself to remain calm, to remain balanced. "Do what you like. There’s no stopping you anyway."

  That said, I spun on my heel and stalked out of the antechamber.

  I could hear the sound of his boots striking the marble floor of the temple, and a memory rose unbidden.

  The day before Zvarr had come to destroy everything, I had battled a young initiate in the training arena. She had worn boots that had been the latest fashion—something technologically advanced that really was quite unnecessary—and they had been loud as she moved about during the fight, giving away her every move. It was a stark comparison to me; I was wearing boots made of tanned katoth, and they were centuries old, though I had kept them preserved with my magic. Their age had made them soft, supple, and flexible, and they moved like a second skin around my legs. They conformed to me perfectly, and every step I took was utterly silent.

  It was a bittersweet memory. Tixa, the initiate, had been headstrong, but her respect had not been hard to win, and she had looked at me with admiration at the end of the fight.

  She was dead now, I thought, flinching.

  I was lost in the memory, not paying attention to where I was going, when my foot suddenly fell through a hole. The stairs I'd been climbing had a missing step, and I'd stepped right into it.

  A shriek escaped me, and I tried to regain my composure and control before it was too late, gesturing wildly to get the wind underneath me to hold me up—but before I could so much as twitch a finger, the warrior was there.

  He hauled me away from the hole, away from the sudden plummet that awaited me, and crushed me against his chest.

  For a moment, I was rigid, too surprised by what had happened to even blink, and then I felt him against me, his heat spreading through both his suit and mine and into my skin, then moving lower in my body. Unconsciously, I melted against him, conforming to his body as if it had been made for me.

  Just as it had after the skirmish, my body responded to his. I felt heat building between my legs, and my nipples tightened, and when I looked up at him—gods, my mouth went dry at the sight of his eyes, eyelids half lowered, his desire plain there. Even if it hadn't been, further evidence was pressing against my hip.

  And then reason returned to me, bringing with it shame that doused my body like an ice bath.

  I shoved at his chest, and he released me immediately, something I hadn't expected, but had to admire. I couldn't bring myself to look at him again.

  Nudity was one thing. My body was a vessel of the gods, a blessing to look upon, and I should not be ashamed to share such a blessing even with outsiders. But this proximity, with
a male—an alien male, no less, one who did not respect me or my religion…

  That was forbidden.

  Kaidan

  I can feel it. I can feel the temple.

  The thought was astonishing, and I had no idea what to do with it. This place was huge—much bigger than the pile of rubble I had found and called a temple when we'd first landed on the planet. Now, this was a temple.

  I could feel the power in it, thrumming heavy in the air, pulsing through my chest.

  It was the feeling of something present, something so much bigger than me. It was all-consuming. It made it hard to think, and the instinct to go to my knees like I had at the first temple was strong—but I fought it.

  I wasn't alone here like I had been there. I couldn't afford a moment of weakness.

  But that wasn't all that was here. Just as I had felt at the first temple, there was pain here too.

  And God above, it was so much worse than it had been at the first temple. The pain was palpable. I could taste it in the air, and it was crushing my heart, pressing down on my chest like a physical ache.

  Absentmindedly, I rubbed my closed fist against my sternum, trying to push away the pain before I realized what I was doing and dropped my hand.

  There was a stink to the pain, a taint.

  Evil.

  I shuddered against my will.

  Fuck that. I don't believe in any of this shit. I don't believe in any God, on Earth or on some godforsaken rock in space.

  Yet I couldn't shake the feeling that something bad had happened here, something absolutely terrible that had destroyed everything in its path. My gut said Xiva was involved in it, and it reaffirmed in my mind that she was trouble.

  A threat to everything: the mission I'd been charged with, the protection of the people in my care.

  Do the bad guys laugh with that carefree, almost childish joy like she did when she flew? Do they feel so soft and innocent when they're pressed against you, melting into your chest?

  My eyes fluttered closed for a heartbeat as I remembered that—the feel of her body against mine, her body going soft and welcoming the second we touched.