Knights of the Imperial Elite Complete Trilogy

by Beth Mikell

He smirked. “Brenson is a new Elite knight and Lord Darrius will be pleased to know he did a fine job. The knight ran a simple Darrius tactic: insult, inform, and then change the subject. It works every time!” He grinned when he saw her frown. “It is not important. Come on, kitten, let us return to the keep,” he said, reaching for her hand and they went back to HieLach, safe and sound.

  Chapter 13

  One candle lit her herbal. Bars stood in place of the door. Her refuge had become a prison. The icy air was frigid and stinging. Each breath was more painful than the last. She sank down and huddled in the dark corner, fear rolling through her. Powerful shivers snaked down her spine, making her tremble violently. Caught and trapped, numbness stabbed her limbs. She pressed her body tighter into the stone wall.

  Her hands rubbed her arms, trying to chase away the goose bumps, but she could not warm the chill. Looking down, she found herself naked. Tears burned her eyes.

  She could feel someone.

  Fat tears traced down her cheeks. “Who is there?” she asked, her voice quivering.

  Outside her cell, a dark figure appeared, his eyes glowing fierce white in the shadows. He clanked something metal against the bars, not answering.

  Her heart pounded so hard her chest hurt. “Please…” she croaked. “Tell me, what you want.” Her breath hitched, her lungs wheezing. As she struggled for another inhale, she rubbed her arms faster, feeling pain. Glancing down, she realized her nails were digging into her flesh. Blood ran. She gasped, wincing. Her vision swam from her weeping, yet she fixed her gaze on the dark man.

  “Tell me,” she whispered.

  “Die,” He answered. “You will die…”

  Adara jerked awake, a scream ripping from her throat. Before she could separate her nightmare from reality, warm hands pulled her close. She clawed at his fingers, panting. “Let me go! I will kill you!”

  “Kitten…?”

  That voice was her salvation.

  “Shh… it is me.” His warm breath caressed her temple as he spoke.

  Rowan.

  He pulled her closer, fitting her snug against his body. He slipped one of her knees between his, anchoring her tight. “I’m right here, lass. I’ve got you.”

  He gave her security—flesh against flesh. Heart to heart.

  She sagged against him, a whimper on her lips. Breathing in his scent, she clutched his shoulder. He was real. Solid. Right beside her. Her mind was completely shredded. “Please hold me. Do not let go…” she rasped. “Dear God, do not let me go.” She sobbed hard, her tears soaking them both.

  “It is my oath, sweet Adara. I will always be here,” he said softly.

  He held her until her heartbeat returned to a normal rhythm and her crying ceased. He was her protection, and his arms tightened even more.

  “Speak to me, kitten. What happened?”

  She closed her eyes, fighting the memories. “I cannot—”

  “You can, lass,” he said firmly. “I am right here. I won’t allow anyone to hurt you.”

  A small groan vibrated her throat. She drew a deep breath, releasing it slowly. She willed her tears not to fall again. “Since… my father died, I have been plagued with dark dreams. Sleeping is not restful. I am often chased, or locked up—tortured by a wraith I never see.” She drew another shaky breath. “This time the man holding me wanted to kill me. I was so alone. There was no one to help me escape.”

  He hugged her. “I am here, lass.”

  His words trimmed away a layer of shadows. “I feel like I am falling apart… piece by piece. Soon there will be nothing left of me.” Her hands sank into his hair, holding tight.

  “I’ll seal you back up,” he whispered. “I’ll never you let go.” His hands caressed up and down her spine, soothing and warm.

  As the surety of his words penetrated her, she relaxed bit by bit. Heavy fears and haunting emotions twisted inside as his rich timbre knocked away the lingering phantoms in her mind. There was a freedom in his arms with his body tightly cocooning her. Her dream faded. He offered her the life she wanted—to know she was important. That someone cared.

  “I want to feel alive. Touch me, Rowan.” She felt his lips curve against her brow. He was more than willing to give her whatever she wanted, her sweet rouge. His heavy length grew harder between them. She pressed closer, loving his uninhibited groan.

  “I’ll never stop, kitten.”

  He rolled her onto her back, his caresses growing more urgent and bold.

  “Rowan,” she rasped, lifting her hips and opening her legs wider.

  She was going down in flames—a perfect fire—as he chipped away the remaining shards of her darkness. He smothered her internal demons with his mouth and whispered gentleness… until only pleasure echoed in the silence.

  *.*.*.*

  Adara stretched in the morning light, completely naked and sated. Every muscle in her body was in a state of harmonious relaxation. A smiled flitted across her face as the memories flooded her mind. In all her years, no one had breached the barrier around her heart until a handsome warrior with long hair and a Scots brogue charmed her aloneness. Lifted her out of despair. Rowan broke down every wall, revealing what happiness could mean.

  She knew she loved him, but she could not bring herself to tell him. Love was not the question—but how willing she was to give him free passage. Though apprehension filled her at the thought of allowing someone into her life, his reassurance to be beside her filled her with a hope—a hope she never thought to have, hold, or believe in. He fit into her life so perfectly, helping her with HieLach, the people, even endearing her niece with ease. For once, she had not awoken with a headache, but rather the endless possibilities of true felicity, yet the weight of problems still bogged her down with uncertainty. Especially with Decimus missing. She did not have the future figured out, but she was willing to take a chance.

  Sensing another presence, Adara turned her head. She found Rowan leaning against the doorway, and she smiled. “Good morning,” she said shyly, feeling a warm blush flame her cheeks.

  He grinned. “Good morning, lass.”

  He took a step into the room, shutting the door. He appeared impressively handsome in his white tunic, pants, and knee boots, though he had not tied his hair back. He had an outlaw appearance, which was positively sinful. She could not stop smiling.

  He took a couple of steps, but stopped, looking behind himself in a very odd manner. She giggled, gasping as the sound grew louder. She covered her smile with a hand.

  “To whom are you smiling at, my lady?” He raised an eyebrow, but his grin was in place.

  Her hand fell to her side. “You know very well why I am smiling,” she said, picking up a pillow, tossing it at him, which he caught easily.

  He strode to the bed, placing the pillow next to her. He captured her hand, smoothing his lips across her knuckles. “I missed you, kitten.” With his other hand, he traced his fingers across her jaw, and then smoothed her lips.

  “Where did you go?” She felt a little self-conscience under his stare.

  His fingers trailed down her neck, whispering over her collarbone. “The merchant convoy left this morning. I went to talk to Jayme.”

  She sat up in a rush, holding the coverlet to her body. After seeing the Gray Legion knights the night before, fear filled her. “The Gray Legion will attack them, Rowan! You should not have allowed them to leave. It is too risky.”

  “Easy now.” He cupped her face, leaning closer, anchoring her next to him. “Relax, kitten. I discussed another route—one that will ensure safety. Plus, Angus and I saw them to the border. Jayme promised to take care of everything.”

  She shook her head, worry flooding her expression. She would not have risked the convoy, even if her Scots friends promised safe passage. The risk was too great. She said nothing, fighting back a terrible sinking feeling.

  Cupping bother her cheeks, he peered deep into her eyes. His somber expression was serious. “Adara, listen to me, in case y
ou haven’t noticed, I am Scots,” he said with a smile and wink. “Jayme was more than willing to help,” he explained.

  She smiled. “I said the same to Cylah. I knew you would make easy friends with him.”

  A lopsided grin appeared, his dimples creasing. “Did you now, lass?

  “Yes.” Her smile faded, and the coverlet fell, exposing her body. “Perhaps, you shall receive a boon.”

  He tilted his head to the side, his pupils dilating in a heated response. “Now that, kitten, would be the best part of my day,” he said huskily, his voice revealing his desire as he leaned forward, placing a hand on either side of her hips on the bed.

  She snaked her arms up around his neck. “Shall we put it to the test?” She recalled his words from yesterday in the cave. She knew his answer too. He had no patience when it came to her.

  He cocked an eyebrow as he leaned closer, his lips inches from hers. “No coercion is necessary, kitten. I am all yours,” he whispered, taking her lips with a slow, steady pressure.

  She sought his mouth eagerly, twisting her hands in his long brown hair, urging him closer with every caress. Her heart took flight above thought, reason, or persuasion, filling up completely on his essence. It was as if he always existed in her world.

  The insistence of his mouth increased, and his arms came around her slim waist, pulling her closer. “As much as it pains me to say, I think we should wait until later, kitten,” he said, nibbling on her lower lip.

  “What could be more exciting than this?” She was hardly able to concentrate on his words, urging him closer with the temping glide of her tongue.

  He chuckled. “Maybe because it is nearly noon. Perhaps you have things to do.”

  She pulled back suddenly, pouting. “I see.” Though the news shocked her, she was not ready to give him up. Her hands slipped down, curling into his tunic. “I do not mind waiting an hour.”

  His eyes narrowed, and his hands slipped over her breasts, cupping them. Thumbing her nipples, he said, “There’s no other place I’d rather be, kitten.”

  Chapter 14

  James, the Gray Legion first knight, entered the solar of Sir Robert of Chevington. Tightness edged his stride, giving the other man a tolerant nod before sitting in the chair across from him. Anger lined his lips. The mission they had planned two years ago should have only lasted a couple of months.

  First, the Gray Legion knights had initially raided villages to raise money, but what turned into a prospect made Sir Robert greedy. Though James was not above the extra coin lining his pockets, he was eager to set himself up in his own keep, but Sir Robert continually delayed an end to the mission, testing his patience.

  “The other knights have arrived and a few more than originally planned. When can we expect to move on HieLach?” James inquired.

  Sir Robert stroked his red beard thoughtfully. “I will let you know.”

  James leaned forward, slamming his fist against the table. “Why are you always delaying the inevitable? Are you planning betrayal? I am tired of waiting. It has been two years and I want a resolution. Do you understand?”

  The older man snorted. “If you would like to risk your hide with Imperial knight interference, then go right ahead, but I like my head right where it is. They are a crafty lot. Just when you think a plan is perfection, the Elite find out. So no, I am not in a rush to die. But if you feel the need to stick your neck out for the chopping block, rush away!”

  The knight cursed under his breath. “So when?”

  “Give me a few days. Move the new recruits to the outside fortress and begin a thorough assessment of their abilities, and then we will move. Agreed?”

  “This is the last time I delay this,” James seethed.

  “Of course,” Sir Robert said smoothly.

  *.*.*.*

  Erik of Chevington eased back from the cracked door. He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. He had been passing his father’s solar when he heard a harsh slam. Yet God, he had not meant to overhear anything. For some time, he knew his father was up to something. What else would explain how their finances increased so majorly? Or the army of knights, training for war?

  He moved away from the door for fear of discovery. He now knew the depth of his father’s treachery—the very practices and intrigue he openly condemned—he organized—he participated. All from the comfort of Chevington Manor.

  The disgrace was too much.

  Erik was not good with strategies, so he did not know whom he could tell.

  Taking another deep breath, he wondered what to do next. However, he would not allow his father to succeed. Of that, he was certain.

  Chapter 15

  Blackstone Castle

  “My lord, everything is proceeding as planned,” Dugan said, entering Lord Darrius’s solar with Colin accompanying him.

  Darrius looked up from his journal entry and nodded. “Have we heard from our four new knights?” He looked between Dugan and Colin with an expectant expression.

  Colin ran a hand through his long blond hair. “Aye. Alston, Brenson, and Noah reported to Innis. The facts are disturbing, but not surprising,” he said wryly.

  Dropping his quill, Darrius folded his hands loosely on the table. “Go ahead, I am at your service.”

  “Sir Robert of Chevington is indeed the traitor we seek, my lord. He is the leader of the Gray Legion. Although our three planted knights have not received a definite goal, they have been accepted without complaint.”

  He sat back in his chair and thought for a moment, his face pensive. “I think we need to move quickly. Have we received word from Sir Douglas?” he asked, remembering the king’s knight and trusted friend. “We need the king’s men to strengthen our numbers and they have been installed at the king’s border keep, overseeing the restoration and security these last few years.”

  Dugan moved to take a seat across from his lord. “Thomas has not returned, my lord, but I think it is safe to say we will have their support. Sir Douglas is a man of honor and will come, I have no doubt.”

  Darrius nodded in agreement. “Then we must be ready. I want to leave soon for HieLach, retrieve Rowan, Simon, and Angus and then move on Chevington Manor. If we delay, we will end up missing our opportunity. I want this solved,” he heaved, smacking a hand down on the table. “Damn Sir Robert! To think how he schemed and lied all these years! Too many innocent lives have been lost! Oh no, he has played a dangerous game—”

  “Darrius!”

  Ryrie burst into the room, flushed with tears streaming down her cheeks. Colin moved to catch his wife around the waist as she stumbled up to the table.

  Darrius came to his feet, moving quickly to his sister’s side. “Ryrie! What is it?” he asked, his hand automatically reaching for the hilt of his sword.

  “It is Brenna! She collapsed—I think her baby is coming!” she exclaimed, grabbing a fist full of her brother’s tunic. “It is soon, Darrius!”

  At the mention of Brenna’s name, Darrius’s whole world opened up to swallow him in a dark vortex of pain. Anguish engulfed him. Immediately, he left the room, taking the stairs two at a time. Brenna had converted a downstairs chamber into a birthing room. As he entered the chamber, he paused in the doorway, finding Nyle, Maude, and the midwife bent over his wife. She lay panting and screaming. He wasted no time going to her side.

  Reaching for her hand, his eyes searched his wife’s face. “Brenna? Oh my god…” he whispered, his gaze fastening on her distress, taking in her sweat-beaded brow, and tear stained cheeks.

  She squeezed his hand. “I—I do not know what happened—” she began, crying out as another wave of pain sliced through her abdomen

  She gripped his hand with punishing force, and Darrius turned his attention to his cousin. “Damn it, Nyle! It is too soon!” He did not care how caustic he sounded; his nerves were stretched raw by his wife’s suffering.

  “The babe is turned the wrong way,” the healer explained quietly. “If we do not do something, we will
lose both of them.”

  Darrius’ eyes snapped close against the unfathomable turmoil. His control was nearly ruptured as he clung to Brenna’s hand. “What can I do?” he hissed, his eyes opening in a rush.

  “Let me try to turn the babe around,” Nyle said, moving to stand beside him. “I have seen it performed before—I think I can save them.”

  “Seen it! Think you can?” Darrius roared. “God’s teeth, this is my wife! I will not place her life at such perilous odds.”

  “Darrius,” Brenna sobbed, hissing through her pain. “Let him try, my love, please. You must save the baby—you must.”

  He looked into the terrified green depths of her eyes. In all his life, he only found one purity: Brenna. No one else filled the empty void of his existence save her presence, and then their son, Liam. Faced with losing her would kill him. He would never recover. Without her would destroy him like someone had cut his heart out with a dull object.

  Her words pierced him… ‘You must save the baby…’

  He opened his mouth to speak, trying to form the next few words, and he swallowed painfully. “I cannot lose you, Brenna,” he croaked, dragging air into his lungs, a tear escaping down his bearded face, uncaring if anyone witnessed.

  He dropped her hand and grabbed Nyle by the upper arms forcibly. “Save them both,” he uttered darkly, shaking his cousin as if to throttle him.

  Nyle brought up one hand to press against his lord’s. “By my oath, my lord, give me leave to help them and by heaven above I will save them.”

  “Do it now!” Darrius thundered, slipping his arm under Brenna’s shoulders, lifting her into his embrace. He helped her at the same time by allowing her to press into his chest.

  As Nyle readied everything he needed, Colin eased into the room with a tearful Ryrie at his side. “My lord,” he said. “I know this is not a good time, forgive me, but Thomas has returned. Sir Douglas is coming, Darrius.”

  Everything was coming down all around the Imperial Arm, but his priority was only for Brenna—no matter how dire the Gray Legion situation pressed upon his conscience.