Book Read Free

Birth Stone

Page 13

by Kate Kelley


  “Certain members of the Ursa Court will be joining us for a grand ball by the end of the week. I expect all of you to be in attendance.” He smirked at the people around the table as their delighted murmurs sounded.

  “This will be Princess Navi’s first time at Gem Court, so let’s give her a warm welcome.” The murmurs became even more excited, impressed glances making their way around the table.

  “Who’s Princess Navi?” Lyra asked Oriel.

  “She’s the Ursa King’s daughter. I believe their King is looking to align Terra, Gem and Ursa.” Lyra nodded, oblivious to royal goings-on.

  “And this ball is some sort of peaceful show of welcome?”

  “That, and possibly the announcement of the betrothment.” Oriel grabbed his goblet of wine and smoothly drank down the remaining liquid.

  “The betrothment?” Lyra asked, absent mindedly.

  “Yes. Of Terrin and Princess Navi.” Oriel spoke as if it was obvious.

  Shock hit Lyra in the stomach, but she masked it with a carefree expression. She was certain Oriel felt her emotion, but she had to pretend she was unaffected, for herself if for nobody else. Why she was affected in the first place was beyond her. She had her own man--Edwin. And the King was hardly a likely suitor. She was commonfolk. He was royalty. They had just met. Besides that, he was as uninterested in her as a man could be. Not only disinterested, but very probably despised from the way he acted around her. That she should care even in the slightest about who the King married was absolutely ridiculous. Especially since she despised the man in return. He was the reason her brother was missing. The list could go on and on.

  Shaking off the remnants of her absurd emotions, she downed the rest of her wine, welcoming the bite of tannin and alcohol at the back of her tongue. Oriel raised a dark brow at her.

  “What?” she asked.

  He licked his lips in an attempt to hide his smile. “Let’s get you another glass of this.”

  She followed him to a servant who promptly handed them two fresh goblets full of decadent honey-colored wine. As she sipped it, she noticed everyone had begun lounging on the sofas and chairs on the perimeter of the giant room. Her body had begun to noticeably relax, the tension in her shoulders lifting away like the bubbles in her glass.

  “You know, you can close your emotions off from me and everyone in this room if you wish. Just as you can ignite your aura, you can put a shield in place over it so that other mages can’t feel or read you.”

  Lyra’s head swung back to look at Oriel. “How do I do that?”

  Oriel cocked his head at her. “Practice.”

  ‘“I best get to practicing then. I need to get you out of my head.”

  Oriel grinned. “I haven’t been probing your mind, I promise. Other than about the letter to your beau. And when I had to force you to shut down your aura after you attacked Terrin. But other than that, I’ve kept to myself. Your emotions drift to me, though and I can’t help but feel them. They’re so bright and raw.”

  Lyra huffed out a breath. “That’s precisely what I want to avoid. Emotions only complicate life.”

  Oriel trailed his finger around the rim of his glass, gaze downturned.

  “You have a lot stored inside you that you haven’t taken the time to process and heal from.” He stole a peek at her before continuing. “A great chasm of pain resides in you. I don’t know why, but it’s there. I wonder if that’s part of why your emotions are so erratic. You’re needing a release.” The soft tone of his voice soothed her, even if his words caused her embarrassment. If she was being honest with herself, he was speaking the truth. Tears suddenly stung her eyes and she kept her eyes low, in hopes that he wouldn’t see.

  He can sense your emotions, Lyra. He knows you’re upset. A tension rose in her chest, the heavy load of her pain suddenly rising up. Blinking rapidly, Lyra took a large sip of her wine, trying to think of something else. Pictures of her mother and father sprang in her mind, of happier days with Alec.

  Mother, father, now Alec. All gone. My whole family is gone. I’m alone in this place and no one is coming to get me. Tears began sliding down her cheeks before she could wipe them away. What the hell is wrong with me?

  “What happened?”

  The deep timbre of the King’s voice had Lyra jumping out of her skin. Instead of turning to face him, she kept her back to him, hoping he wouldn’t see her tears. She squeezed her eyes shut and focused on breathing.

  The heat of his body warmed her back. A jut of hot air hit the nape of her neck, and she realized it was his breath. Goosebumps prickled across her back and up her arms.

  Breathing deeply, Lyra turned to face him and found him less than a foot away from her. She looked up into his eyes, the contact surprisingly soothing.

  His beauty never ceases to shock me. A bloom of power opened up in her center and she reflexively drew it into her arms, just stopping as she felt it reach her hands. Her body buzzed with power and hidden light.

  “You’re upset,” he ground out, looking unused to uttering the words. He searched her red-rimmed eyes, then turned to Oriel.

  “What did you do?” His voice was strained with the effort of keeping civil in the crowd of his guests.

  Oriel smiled softly, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Lyra and I were having a private discussion. It seems as if we need to start practicing her emotion shield tonight. Your constant presence isn’t helpful to her progress.”

  The King stared a hole through Oriel, jaw working.

  “You forget who you address.” His tone was deadly. Oriel leveled his stare back, crossing his arms. Probing for Oriel’s aura, she concentrated on his center until an emerald green orb softly materialized. Feeling it with her mind, she sensed a surge of irritation mixed with something like...pity and another..protectiveness. Oriel snapped his gaze to her and just as quickly the orb was gone, snuffed out like a candle.

  “Lyra just read my emotions as I let my guard down,” he spoke coolly to the King, “She’s really a fast learner, her aura strong, but her mind needs work. Distractions aren’t helping her, and time is not on our side.”

  The King squinted, his steely gaze moving to Lyra. “And what do you think, girl?” He took a step closer to her so that he was inches away from her.

  “Am I a distraction?” He stretched the word out, his teeth and lips emphasizing the syllables. His eyes swept her form before returning to her eyes.

  Lyra had a strange image rise in her mind, of her biting his bottom lip, then licking it better. As soon as it was there, it was gone again. A deep throb drummed between her legs.

  Damn. Heart pounding, she leveled her gaze at his chest and answered, truthfully.

  “Yes.”

  His smirk vanished, and the King schooled his face into a blank slate before backing up a pace and striding through the room to disappear out of the heavy doors, leaving many bowed heads in his wake.

  Chapter 13

  A banging on the door greeted Lyra the next morning, her eyes cracking open to take in the brightly sunlit room. Sitting upright and rubbing her eyes, she slipped out of the warmth of her blankets and onto the cool floor. The banging continued until she unlatched the door lock and swung it open. Poppi stood erect, face flushed, looking haggard. She swept into the room, past Lyra, and set down a breakfast tray with buttered bread, fruit, and tea.

  “Good morning, Poppi..” Lyra began tentatively as she took a bite of bread.

  “I will need a key to your room. I can’t be banging on the door every morning. Other hand maidens have keys, you know--” Lyra’s head pounded.

  “Alright, Poppi. No need to send yourself into a tizzy over it. Can’t you speak to the Head Maid about it?” Sitting in a chair, she sipped her warm black tea. The soothing liquid shook some of the headache created from last night’s drinking. Poppi blinked rapidly and nodded, seeming to catch her bearings.

  “Is everything alright, Poppi?” Lyra hadn’t seen the girl so worked up before.
r />   “Y-yes, miss. I’m just--I want to do my job properly.” Lyra eyed her intently and then sensed guilt wading in her center. She was already quicker at opening others’ centers to read their emotions. She didn’t understand why the girl would feel so guilty, but she guessed it had something to do with her former mistress and the abuse she probably endured during that time.

  “Poppi, you’re doing a wonderful job and I’m very grateful to have you here with me. You’ve been perfectly sweet and accommodating.” She gave her a genuine smile. Poppi grimaced back, attempting a smile, then stood swiftly and crossed to the closet.

  “You have a meeting with Sir Oriel in the training room, today.” She pulled out a light blue cotton dress with cap sleeves and a button-up front. The hemline seemed to reach mid-calf.

  “I suppose that will do, Poppi.” Lyra had a thought that dresses wouldn’t do for every training purpose, especially if she was to have any sort of physical work. If she wanted to be on equal ground with Oriel, she would need clothes like his--pants and tunic. Lyra mulled over her next statement, trying to choose her words carefully.

  “My...meetings with Oriel might extend into more physical territory--” She paused and held up a hand as Poppi’s eyes widened. “Hear me out, Poppi. Not like that. Like running or--or climbing or horseback riding, and the like.” Poppi’s brows lowered but she nodded her head.

  “And so I’ll need something more appropriate to wear, such as men’s clothing.” Poppi’s eyes lit up, then, her mind clearly occupied with the possibilities.

  Lyra laughed. “I should have known anything to do with clothes would excite you!”

  Poppi gave a wistful smile then, genuine all the same. “Pants and tunic, like a man’s? I can do better than that. My mistress has beautiful training clothes, nothing like a man’s--” Poppi stopped short, blanched.

  “Your former mistress trained?” Lyra kept her voice small, though alarm bells went off in her head.

  What does she know of training?

  Lyra slipped into the blue dress while Poppi quietly buttoned the front.

  So she’s going to play the quiet game again. Unacceptable.

  “What sort of training did she do?” Lyra’s voice was commanding.

  Poppi finished buttoning before looking into Lyra’s eyes.

  “Just what you said, miss. Horseback riding and the like. Are you needing anything else then? We better meet Sir Oriel.” Poppi turned her back to her and walked to the door. If Lyra was a less gentle sort of mistress, she could have Poppi punished for her insubmission. But she wasn’t that sort of woman, was she? She could, however, read her thoughts if she became good enough. And the nagging suspicion that something was off with Poppi wasn’t leaving her alone anytime soon.

  Reading other’s thoughts against their will is wrong, isn’t it? I guess I’m not that good of a person after all.

  Lyra followed closely behind Poppi, the stress emanating off of Poppi in heavy waves. Lyra barely needed to try tapping nto her center to feel it. When they got to the throne room, she paused.

  “Why are we going here? I thought we were--” Poppi didn’t turn around as she opened the heavy door. “The King wishes to escort you the rest of the way.”

  “Oh.” Lyra didn’t seem to be able to avoid the King as she wanted. It irked her that she didn’t have any say over whether or not she saw him. For some reason, the thought of seeing him terrified her, even now. She grabbed Poppi’s arm before she entered the room.

  “Do you know where the training room is? The King shouldn’t bother with escorting me. I can just go there myself. You don’t even have to accompany me. Just tell me the way.”

  “I’ll show you the way.” A deep voice jolted her out of her plea, the man himself standing a few feet away with hands clasped behind his back and leveling her with an almost challenging stare.

  Damn him, he is always sneaking up on me!

  Black tunic with the sleeves rolled up, showing off muscle-corded forearms, dark pants and boots as usual, but she noticed his hair was tied back today. His cheekbones and strong jaw stood out even more and his eyes shone even brighter. It did bubbly things to her insides.

  Pressing her lips together, she nodded at him and he bid her come with a gesture of his hand. It felt like he physically pulled her to him, and she had no choice but to move forward. She was vaguely aware of Poppi slipping away as she set her sights on the King’s back, following him to the place behind the throne where they emerged from the portal with Oriel.

  “We’re going to Oriel’s?” Her voice was breathy when it came out and she tried not to roll her eyes at her own frailty. She cleared her throat. The King stopped just before the small oak door that resembled a closet door, and turned back to her.

  “No. This portal will take me to a few different locations in Gem, and other places in Terra. My training room isn’t really a room, per say. It’s more like a...forest.”

  Lyra blinked. “Alright.”

  Surprises were the name of the game in this place, and part of her life now. You would think she would used to strangeness by now. Opening the door, he reached toward her. Lyra stared at his outstretched hand, twice the size of hers. She noticed calluses on the fingertips. He was a hard working man, even more impressive that he was a King and still used his hands on a daily basis. The knowledge warmed her to him.

  Ugh, no. He’s still a King. He called me a peasant.

  “You’re going to want to touch me in some way.”

  Lyra almost choked. “Excuse me?”

  A sparkle shone in his eye, the promise of a smile. “The transition through the portal is easier if you are grounded in some way. Holding onto another person helps with that. As you held my hand for the first time. Except this time, the transition is farther away.”

  Lyra cheeks flamed and she cursed her emotional frailty once more. She worked on shielding her center, visualizing a wall coming up around it, blocking the glow. The King’s eyebrows shot up and his eyes scanned her body up and down.

  “You’re learning.”

  His hand still outstretched, Lyra grabbed hold of it, and ignored the bolt that passed into her arm at the touch. Entering the tiny room was like entering a closed off cave--absolutely no light penetrated the area after the King shut the door. Sense of touch and smell amplified at the absence of light. She focused on the light pulsing between their skin at his tight hold.

  Shifting forward, Lyra ran into a wall--a warm, well-muscled one.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled, but words slipped away when she felt a hand find her waist, encircling and holding her still. Her breath became shallow, and she worked on shielding her center once again. She didn’t want to further embarrass herself in front of him.

  “Touch the wall and hold onto me.” His hand slid behind her back to the other side of her waist, his arm becoming steel, trapping her against him.

  Gods, be merciful.

  The smell of him, like fresh earth, rain, and manly musk, burned her from the inside out. She felt like burying her face in his neck and breathing deeply, nuzzling the coarse hair on his jaw. Scrambling to clamp her shield down tighter, she breathed deeply, her breasts pressing tighter against his solid frame.

  This isn’t working.

  “Ready?” His voice was definitely strained now.

  He’s embarrassed for me. He can probably smell my arousal at this point. No need to read my mind.

  Mortified, Lyra abruptly lifted their joined hands and smacked them on the obsidian wall so that hers was over his. The world tilted, bursts of starlight whizzing past her mind’s eye, then she was falling through a chasm..no, flying upward, higher and higher into blinding white light.

  How high would they go?

  Hard ground rose up and hit her on the side of her ribs as she curled herself around the King. Her bones ached from the assault and the world spun for a few seconds as Lyra attempted to get her bearings, eyes closed.

  “You’re late.”

  Lyra’s
eyes popped open and she froze when she realized she was flat against the King, on the ground, her legs entwined with his and her forehead resting on his. Scooting backwards suddenly probably wasn’t a great idea either, as now she was straddling him, her ass perfectly lined up with his groin, her dress riding high up her thighs. A thunderous scowl passed over the King as he stared up at Lyra, elbows propping him up.

  “I apologize, I--”

  Attempting to stand proved difficult as her dress tripped her and she fell backwards into someone else’s strong arms.

  “Thank you, Oriel.”

  A wickedly handsome grin crossed his face and she couldn’t help but giggle as he righted her.

  The King's face was stormy by comparison. “Never initiate the transition through a portal, Lyra. That was dangerous. Your lucky our landing wasn’t much worse, or that we made it though at all. Your magic isn’t stable--”

  “The fact that she initiated it at all and made it here safe is a testament to her strength and power.” Oriel’s voice sounded behind her, and his arm slung around her shoulders in a protective stance. She couldn’t read either of their emotions, they were too skilled at shielding their centers. The King’s hands clenched at his sides before his eyes slid to Lyra.

  “Don’t do it again. We could have been badly hurt. I’ll be back to get you in two hours.” Jaw clenching, he leveled his gaze at Oriel for a few seconds before turning abruptly and disappearing into the thick dark evergreens.

  “Where is the portal?” Lyra asked, wondering how the King could possibly know where he was going in such a mess of trees.

  She took a cursory glance around her and realized they were in a large clearing. Old, tall trees reached up to the gray sky, surrounding them on all sides and shrouding them in privacy. Dead leaves of red, brown, and yellow, along with moss blanketed the soft ground, providing a carpet for their natural space. The coos of rain doves sounded in the distance.

  “He knows where he is going,” Oriel countered, and turned her gently to face him. “Shield your center.” Lyra took a deep breath and visualized the wall going up around her glowing orb. Oriel cocked his head to the side, surveying her, then reached into his pocket and produced a roughly cut stone the color of lightest sunset pink that fit into the palm of his hand.

 

‹ Prev