Beyond The Veil: A Paranormal & Magical Romance Boxed Set

by Multiple Authors

  “You sent her here?” he asked.

  “Knorris’ stronghold was no place for an innocent girl,” she observed.

  Adame looked at her with surprise. He must have the lowest opinion of her that he couldn’t believe she would protect a child.

  “Did you come here just to check on me, Adame?”

  “No, the Western king wishes to meet with you. He visits with Knorris and wished to take advantage of the nearness,” Adame explains.

  “Did he say why he wishes this conversation? Is it about Roxen?” he asked.

  “He made no mention of her. He said war has been hard on us all. He is weary of it and wishes to see his children live out their lives in peace.” Adame declared.

  “Does he sound earnest?” he asked.

  “He does. It makes me wonder what his war whore brother by marriage will have to say when he hears,” Adame smirked.

  “Does the emperor support this possibility?” the general asked.

  “The king says the emperor and all the kings are agreeable if terms can be reached,” Adame assured.

  Roxen listened with interest but knew Knorris would attempt to ruin any attempt at peace. He truly was a war whore who had made a great deal off the war trophies he had kept that should have gone to king or emperor. She heard an alarm sound and knew it meant they were being attacked. Neither the general nor his man Adame seemed overly concerned. They continued to talk as sounds of battle leeched through the walls. The door was pushed open and a man came in. He stopped looking shocked to see the general and Adame staring at him.

  “Fevor, what is the meaning of this?” the general asked.

  “We are under attack and I feared for you. I thought you helpless and unable to protect yourself,” Fevor answered his beady eyes darting about as he nervously licked his dry lips.

  “If we’re under attack, why aren’t you on the wall?” the general asked.

  “I-I was concerned for you,” he insisted.

  “Has the wall been breached?” Adame asked.

  “N-no, but the witch is dangerous,” he claimed looking at her with dislike.

  “How did you know the witch was here?” the general asked softly.

  “Adame mentioned it,” Fevor claimed.

  “No, I didn’t,” he refuted.

  “Maybe one of the guards mentioned it?” he guessed.

  “They were under penalty of death and you don’t get on that well with any of them,” Adame charged.

  “You need to confine yourself to your quarters until we have a chance to question you more thoroughly,” the general directed.

  “Yes, sir,” Fevor said as he backed out of the room.

  “Did you have any idea it was him?” the general asked.

  “I suspected, but had no proof,” Adame offered.

  “Think he’ll run?” the general asked.

  “I can only hope so,” Adame replied.

  “W-what do you mean?” she asked. “Why would you want him to run?”

  “If he stays, we have a prisoner. We have to fight his powerful and important family in order to punish him,” Adame pointed out.

  “If he runs, we have a deserter. His father was a hero in the fifty years war. He’ll not question him being killed on sight,” the general concluded.

  She wondered at the harshness of military life. It would never have occurred to her to plan someone’s demise. Were they always like this? Her thoughts must have shown on her face because she’d never been good at hiding her feelings. Her time with Knorris had improved that skill, but she still had a lot to learn.

  “You disapprove?” the general asked gently.

  “I simply can’t imagine preferring to kill someone to finding another way to punish them,” she admitted.

  “I’m sure you’ve killed enough people,” Adame snarled. His old feelings about the witch surfacing.

  “Do you? You might be surprised,” she said. “I could have killed you many times, yet I never did.”

  Adame grew silent. Maybe she’d given him something to think on. His face was guarded like the general’s was and she’d never been the best at deciphering another’s intent.

  “Adame,” the general spoke. “I think someone should check on the status of the attack and determine if Fevor stayed or fled.”

  “Yes, Sir,” he replied before he turned and hurried out. Now they were alone again. It both thrilled and frightened her.

  “Now, I wonder, what should I do with you? Any suggestions?”

  “None you would take.”

  “Try me.”

  “You could always let me go. I could stay at the witch’s keep to ensure I’d not be captured again.”

  “The witch’s keep, huh? I’ve heard that’s a difficult place to get into.”

  “Perhaps,” she said guarding her expression.

  The witch’s keep was the home of her cousin, daughter of the strongest witch in the land. It was a true place that had taken on legendary proportions among the nonmagical folk. It was built like a castle in many ways but it was beautiful with four spires reaching high into the sky. The rough stone and practical bent of the usual castle’s built by kings strictly for protection, were practical. The witch’s keep was like a fantasy come to life and the generations of magical occupants had left their mark on the place.

  It rose out of the desert to the south like a mirage. It couldn’t be seen clearly until one was almost upon it. It was colorful, no plain browns of whites for a magical people. There were blues, greens purples, and even reds and the stones had long ago soaked in the colors to where they no longer required spelling to keep them so. It was surrounded by a moat that was really more like a pond full of the most beautiful and exotic water life. Sea horses and fish of all colors frolicked in the deep blue waters. In times of war, the lady of the castle could call forth hideous sea monsters to that would grab and eat invaders in front of their men. It had dissuaded many and enemy from continuing to attack.

  Her aunt had not had trouble in her lifetime. If not the victim of violence, a witch’s life was five times as long as that of a typical human. Her aunt was probably half way through her lifespan. Witches as a general rule were attractive, strong, and intelligent. The magic that was part of their makeup was not inborn equally among them and no one could say for sure what caused a person to have more or less. Bloodlines played a part but sometimes a weak bloodline would breed am exceptionally strong witch. Some said it was the blessing of the Earth goddess bestowing it upon someone she knew would be worthy. It was as good an explanation as any.

  A look of thoughtful regard crossed the general’s face as he looked at her. She felt little hope that he’d yield to her request but he was fair enough it seemed to consider it. This place didn’t suit her. It reminded her too much of Knorris’ stronghold since they were both set up for the military.

  He finally spoke the words she didn’t want to hear. “I wish that I could send you to that place you consider safe from your enemies, but I can’t. Not only because I have doubts for you safety, but your powers could turn this unending war in our favor.”

  “Surely you understand I can’t kill or do violence. It’s not our way.”

  “Even with those limitations Knorris found uses for your talent. I’m far more creative than he is and I will put you to good use without pushing you to do ill.” He smiled and he was full of self-confidence.

  Now that he was healing, she felt drawn by his charisma. The man was dangerous to her sense of self-preservation and he had only just begun to turn his charm on her. What would she do when he was fully healed and back to his usual self? She had no defenses with the collar on. She also wanted to deny it, but she felt drawn to him. He was more than just a handsome man. He was a skilled leader, capable and intelligent. There was something about him that drew others to him and made them trust him. He also seemed kind and understanding of the situations of others, a very rare trait these days when everyone seemed wrapped up in their own survival.

>   She realized while she had been thinking, he had been examining her. He seemed to like what he saw and that only worried her more. A man like this would be hard to resist if he were determined. A man like this who got what he wanted and left would be hard to forget. Her best defense was never to let him get that close. The gleam in his eye told her that he would be hard to distance herself from. She was her own worst enemy as thoughts of what his kiss might feel like entered her mind. It didn’t matter, she had to keep to herself. Pain and tragedy lay in following the lure of an untamable male.

  “What do you fear from me?” he asked.

  “I fear nothing, I simply have no desire to tie myself to any man in any way.”

  “Have you ever given a man a chance? You might find the pleasure well worth any pain.”

  “That is what I’d expect a man like you to say.”

  “A man like me? What is a man like me?”

  “One who enjoys a woman only for a little while then leaves her behind forgotten and full of regrets.”

  He spun around and grabbed her by both arms so quick she barely saw a blur. He pulled her against his body and as she looked up to see what he planned to do, his lips pressed against hers in a savage kiss of possession. She gasped in shock, she’d kept herself away from men as far as she could and she’d never been kissed. It didn’t pay to be free with her favors and be branded as a wanton and a whore. There was no in between in her world, you were chaste or you were available. She had made her choice long ago, as soon as she’d been old enough to understand her mother’s story.

  Her grandmother had been nearly past the ability to have children when the goddess had blessed her with her mother. She’d always wanted children, but the surprise of having one so late in life had caught her fully off guard. The difficult child birth had left her health drained and she had barely lived to see her indoctrinated. Her grandfather had been older and had dies possibly of shock, not long after finding out that they were expecting a babe in a few short months. Losing the love of her life had probably contributed to her decline.

  Roxen’s mother had been a strong witch from a strong line of witches. Roxen had an equal strength herself and hopes that it would grow stronger in time. Roxen’s mother, Xenby, met her father, Roben, one fine day when she’d been sent after supplies. She’d been smitten and thought he’d been as well. Whether that was true or not, she was expecting a babe in not time. Roben went to find a better job than the one he had as cook’s helper, but he never returned nor was he ever seen again.

  Xenby swore he’d fallen to foul play but he was never seen again. Roxen heard the whispers that he’d left not prepared to support a wife and child. Xenby slowly lost her mind until one day when Roxen became a novice, she found her mother lying at the base of the watchtower walls. Her body broken and bleeding from the fall. She was dead and had been gone for hours. Her story surprisingly similar to that of her mother. Was it the family curse to find love, have a baby, and die before the child grew up?

  The best solution was to avoid men and especially men like the general. She shook from the kiss he had given her and she tried to take a step back but he held her tight. “I’m sure you’d agree that they receive some small amount of pleasure for their trouble.”

  “Perhaps they do, but it is not a fair trade in my mind.”

  “I see you’re one that keeps her legs tightly closed.”

  “It is the wise thing to do in these times.”

  “So you’ve been tempted to forego your chastity?”

  “Never.”

  He raised his brow as if questioning the honesty of her answer. Her face flushed as she realized she had been tempted recently, by him but she’d banished it to the far recesses of her mind. It irritated her that he sensed it. She’d been torn between desire, irritation, worry, and fear and they’d all weighed on her. She wasn’t sure she hadn’t been better off with Knorris where at least she knew where she stood and how she felt.

  Her heart was pounding and her breathing was still heavy and he’d yet to let go of her. She looked down at his hands where he held her and back up to him shooting him a glare. “Do you intend to let go of me?”

  Her anger seemed to amuse him. “I might if you gave me a kiss.”

  “You’ve got to be joking,” she spit out.

  “No, I want a kiss from you. You can show me how little I move you.”

  “I’ve no desire to kiss you. Trying to force me to just shows you’re no gentleman.”

  “I’ve never claimed to be and I can hold you all night if need be. It’s just a small kiss to prove I hold no interest for you.”

  She wanted to harangue him and scream to the goddess, but in the end she acknowledged he was in charge and she would still have to give him the kiss he demanded. “Fine, let’s get this thing over with.”

  “Put a little feeling into it woman.”

  He moved her arms and draped them around his neck and he pulled her completely against him with his arms wrapped around her waist. She could feel the heat of his body and smell the faint scent of the herbs she’d used on him mixing with the masculine smell all his own. It was appealing and she hated the weakness she felt in her knees from it. She looked in his eyes, a beautiful caramel color that she could get lost in. They were so warm and she saw desire in them along with a hint of humor. Damn him! He found her predicament funny.

  She pulled his head down closer to hers and she tentatively touched her lips to his. It was a light brushing, too bad she knew it wouldn’t count as a kiss. She went back and this time pressed her lips to his and a shiver passed over her. She couldn’t hide the effect he had on her but she seemed to have an equally strong effect on him. His tongue pressed between her lips demanding entrance and she opened up to him. His tongue slid along hers and the spicy flavor made her belly warm and thrills run through her. She was dizzy, just like when she drank the Kali spiced wine to relax, except this would her tighter instead.

  His hands seemed to be everywhere, stroking, squeezing, and holding nothing back. She heard the knock on the door and it finally made it through her confused mind. She pushed herself away from the general and he seemed to regain awareness of where they were and what was going on.

  “Come in,” he called out and the door sprang open and a suspicious Adame came in slowly looking around as if he expected a dragon to be hiding in the room.

  She almost smiled but caught herself first. Adame would think she was laughing at him of enjoying some victory she’d managed that he didn’t know about. The man had such a deep seated dislike of her that he would suspect the worst where she was concerned. Had he walked in instead of knocking and caught them in an embrace, he would have assumed she was trying to seduce his leader not the other way around which was what had actually happened.

  “Adame, report,” the general snapped and she thought he sounded irritable. This was the first time she was seeing this side of him.

  “Fervor fled but the guards are after him. I doubt there’ll be much left to bring back. Traitors don’t usually fare well,” he explained.

  “It was what we expected. Whatever they do him is no less than he deserves,” the general said.

  “True. The attack caused only minor damage and minor injuries. It was well worth them to discover a traitor. I’ve put an extra guard on each shift to give us more coverage in case they try again. It appears Knorris wants his witch back,” he observed shooting her a look laced with disapproval.

  That was fine. At least he was upfront and not trying to act friendly to inform on her like some of Knorris’ guards had attempted. She didn’t trust him, but he was more honest than most. The general had a disgusted look on his face.

  He said, “She is our witch. He’d best get used to that.”

  “Do you really think she’ll be useful to us at all? She’s trouble, maybe it’s trouble we don’t need?” Adame asked. The man clearly wanted her gone whatever it took to make that happen. She’d cured his leader and the man had clearly ne
ver intended her to stay.

  “So what is your solution?” the general asked.

  “I would kill her, but I did tell her she would live if she saved you and I’m a man of my word. Maybe we could banish her to one of the deserts?” he asked hopefully.

  “Is that any different than killing her because you let the lack of food and water combined with hellish temperatures do the work for you?” his leader asked.

  Adame flushed, the censor in his leaders question had embarrassed him. He’d wanted rid of her enough to make a questionable suggestion and he now saw the error of his ways. “I’m sorry, General, I should have thought things out better.”

  “I’m not sure why you harbor such a deep dislike for the witch, but it is overruling your usual logic,” he said.

  “She’s fought at Knorris’ side as he’s killed our people, raped our woman, and enslaved our children,” Adame protested. “There’s no good in that one.”

  “She wears a slave collar, not a mating mark. What makes you think she had a choice?”

  “She’s a strong witch. No one could force her to do what she refused to do.”

  “So she is happy to be here as our guest and do as we asked?”

  “I’m just a simple soldier. I don’t understand why others do the things they do, it often makes no sense to me. I’m sure you’ll figure out what to do with the witch before long,” Adame said sounding tired and world weary.

  “I hope so,” the general said as he cast her a look she didn’t understand.

  She wished she could find a way to remove the collar and she’d be gone so fast no one could stop her. Being here was frightening now in a way she’d not faced before. The man looking at her was the biggest danger she had ever faced. He wouldn’t hurt her physically, he would tear up her heart and leave her completely desolate. He stepped toward her and she stepped back.

  “You’ve no need to run from me. I have no desire to harm you in any way,” he said softly, almost pleadingly.

  “You may not wish harm, but that doesn’t mean you might not cause it,” she whispered. “Why won’t you just let me go? I’ll go where Knorris can’t ever get me again.”