by Jayne Castel
Dain reached out, pulled her hard against him, and kissed her.
Lilia gasped at the suddenness of it, but his lips covered hers, muffling the sound. An instant later wild hunger reared up within her. Groaning into his mouth, she sank against him, giving herself up to the experience.
This was Dain—who had teased her, and flirted with her. For all these months, he’d been within arm’s reach, but she’d ignored him.
Dain deepened the kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth. The sensuality of it made Lilia’s head spin. It turned her reckless. Reaching up, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself against his hard, lean body.
“What do we have here?”
The drawl of a man’s voice shattered Lilia and Dain’s private world.
They sprang apart to find Saul standing a few feet away down the hill. He was holding two dead rabbits by their feet. His lip was curled in an expression of disgust.
Mortification flooded through Lilia. How long had he been standing there watching them? Gasping for breath, she stepped back from Dain, attempting to regain control, while Dain turned his attention to Saul.
“What do you want?” he rasped.
Saul snorted. “Not the same thing as you evidently.” His gaze hardened. “How can you touch that … thing?”
Dain’s features tightened. The two men locked gazes. “Careful, princeling,” he growled.
Disbelief twisted Saul’s face. “You’d defend a shifter?”
“Her name is Lilia,” Dain shot back, a snarl in his voice. “She’s the same woman you wooed at The Grey Anchor.”
“That was before I knew what she was,” Saul replied coldly. “An abomination that needs to be stamped out.”
Dain drew the axe from where he’d strapped it to his back. “I invite you to try.”
Saul cocked his head. Lilia went rigid as she watched the two men glare at each other. However, after a moment, Saul took a step back. He then turned and sauntered away without another word.
Lilia inhaled deeply and tried to gather her scattered wits. Her lips still burned from Dain’s kiss, but the moment had been lost—ruined by Saul’s untimely arrival. Her heart pounded now, not from excitement, but from humiliation.
Saul’s words made her feel dirty, ashamed.
Satisfied that Saul had left, Dain turned his attention back to Lilia. “I’m sorry, Lily. Someone should rip out that bastard’s vicious tongue.”
“It’s true though,” Lilia gasped, tears blurring her vision. “That’s how most folk will see me.”
He took a step toward her. “I don’t … and I never will.”
Lilia held a hand out, palm outward, stopping him from coming any closer. His kindness just made her feel worse. It suddenly hurt to breathe. “It doesn’t matter … the rest of the world thinks differently, and that’s what is important.”
With that, she turned away from him and started to collect the twigs and branches she’d dropped.
23
The Net Tightens
LILIA, SAUL, AND Dain didn’t converse as they sat before the fire.
Ever since returning from collecting firewood, Lilia hadn’t been able to even look at Dain. She felt his gaze settle upon her now, from where he sat sharpening the blade of his axe a few yards away, but she pretended not to notice.
She’d been rude to him after the confrontation with Saul—yet it was either that or start crying. Even now, tears loomed. Her throat was tight and her eyes burned.
Likewise, she avoided glancing in Saul’s direction. He sat next to the glowing fire, slowly turning the rabbit carcasses on a spit. When she did look to see how far away their lunch was, she noted his expression was shuttered, his gaze hooded.
Their brief romantic entanglement months earlier felt like it belonged to someone else’s life.
She couldn’t believe she’d been taken in by his easy charm. His viciousness earlier made her realize that it was merely a veneer.
A few feet away, Ryana still slept deeply, propped up against the boulder. They didn’t wake her, even when the rabbits were ready. The meat was delicious: fat and juicy. After days of no fresh food, Lilia ate ravenously. Despite her inner turmoil, she was still hungry.
They left some rabbit for Ryana, wrapped up in an oiled cloth, and let her sleep a little longer.
After a while, Lilia glanced up at the sky—even through the dense cloud she could see the glow of the sun sinking toward the west. The day was moving on, and so should they. She shifted her attention to where Ryana slumbered. She looked so peaceful. Left to her own devices, she would likely sleep for many more hours.
“Someone’s going to have to wake her,” Dain said. Seated next to Lilia, he picked the last shreds of meat off the rabbit leg he’d been eating and tossed the bone into the fire. “We need to go.”
Lilia rose to her feet. “I’ll do it.” She crossed to the enchanter and crouched before her, reaching out to grasp her shoulder. “Ryana …”
The woman groaned and raised her head, her eyes flickering open.
“Is that roast rabbit I smell?”
Lilia smiled. “Don’t worry, we left some for you.”
With a groan, Ryana got to her feet and stretched. She then glanced up at the sky, frowning. “You’ve let me sleep too long.”
“You were exhausted,” Dain pointed out. “We had to let you recover your strength.”
“Here,” Lilia passed Ryana the package of meat they’d kept back for her. “You can eat while we walk.”
Lilia turned to Ryana with a frown. “What are we going to do?”
Dusk was approaching and they hadn’t yet found shelter for the night. The women had just finished scouring the southern feet of the mountainside, while Dain and Saul had searched the northern side of the steep vale. All four of them now met up again upon the Eastern Road.
The enchanter pulled a face, making it clear she didn’t appreciate the question. “Climb a tree.”
Saul snorted. “And you think shadow creatures can’t climb?”
Ryana gave him a sour look. “I wisely assume nothing,” she replied, “but if you’ve got a better idea come nightfall … do let us know. For now, we just need to move on.”
Lilia glanced around, nervousness stealing over her. The shadows had grown long now, stretching across the road, while the air had grown chill. She drew her woolen cloak close around her; they really didn’t have much time left.
The party continued along the Eastern Road. Above them, the sky darkened further. The faint odor of iron settled over the valley.
Lilia’s breathing quickened. She knew what that smell meant.
Around her, Dain had drawn his axe, Saul his knives, and Ryana gently flexed the fingers of her right hand, preparing to gather the Dark.
Lilia drew the knife from its scabbard at her waist. She grasped the hilt tightly, stealing glances around her as she walked.
Darkness had nearly swallowed the world when Ryana halted suddenly. The movement was so sharp that Lilia ran into her back. However, Ryana hardly seemed to notice, for she was staring up ahead, at where a fine mist crept over the highway.
“We need to get off the road,” Ryana murmured, her gaze remaining fixed upon the mist.
“Why?” Saul stepped up and peered over her shoulder. “I can’t see anything.”
“You will soon enough,” she replied.
“You know what’s out there?” Dain asked, frowning.
Ryana glanced quickly back at him. “I’ve had my shadows out scouting for the past hour. They’ve just returned.”
“And?” Saul pressed.
Ryana’s mouth thinned. “Shadow creatures approach on the road behind and before us.”
A heartbeat of silence followed, before Saul spoke once more. “How many?”
“At least two-dozen,” she replied, turning her attention back to where the mist snaked toward them. “They’re attempting to hem us in.”
Lilia sucked in a breath. “Standing here talking isn’t
helping,” she murmured. “We need to move.”
Without another word, the four of them turned left and hurried off the road. They entered a stand of tall spruce, the heady perfume of the conifers momentarily obliterating the harsh tang of metal that had settled over the darkening land.
For a short while the only sound was the rasp of their breathing, for they walked across a soft mattress of pine needles.
But then the land around them seemed to awaken. The rustling and snapping of twigs underfoot. Low growls and whines in the distance, growing closer with each passing moment.
They were in the midst of the spruce thicket, over two furlongs from the road, when a deranged cackle echoed up from the valley behind them. Lilia stumbled at the sound, and Dain caught her by the elbow, hauling her upright. He had a firm grasp on her arm now as they broke into a sprint.
Lilia and Dain followed Ryana through the trees and up the steepening ground, while Saul followed on their heels.
They broke from the trees and ran out into a glen with a stream trickling through it. A dark wall of conifers rose around them, their spiky tops black against an indigo sky. Halfway across the glen, just after she had splashed through the stream, Ryana halted.
She whipped round, eyes wide, as the others caught up.
“What is it?” Saul panted. “Why have you stopped?”
“They’re all around us now,” Ryana gasped. “We’re trapped.”
Saul’s mouth thinned. “So this is where we make our stand?”
“Aye.” Ryana stepped away from them, sweeping her right hand before her in an arc. She glanced then at Lilia. “I’m sorry … I’d never have suggested we make this journey if I’d known.”
Sweat slid down Lilia’s back, her heart now slamming against her ribs. She couldn’t believe that, after everything they’d gone through, it would end here.
Next to her, Dain shrugged, loosening the muscles in his neck, shoulders, and upper arms as he swung his axe before him. His face looked hewn from stone, his dark-blue eyes almost black in the gloaming. “We need to protect the stone,” he said, his gaze flicking to Ryana and Saul. “Circle Lilia.”
Reaching up, Lilia clasped The King Breaker. Even through the material of her shirt, it burned ice-cold into her palm.
Protect the stone. That was what mattered here—not her own fate. If the shadow creatures took possession of it, they could set The Shadow King free. His wrath would be terrible after so many centuries of imprisonment. No one in The Four Kingdoms of Serran would escape suffering.
“Lily,” Dain rasped, glancing toward her. “You need to shift … if we fall you must run.”
Saul let out a hiss. “She’ll just give it to them.”
“She didn’t when the Hiriel cornered us,” Dain countered. “And she won’t now.”
“I won’t,” Lilia confirmed. “But I can’t shift at will.”
“You said the change comes when you’re really angry or afraid,” Ryana replied, her voice tight with barely suppressed fear. “Don’t worry … that’s about to happen.”
On the northern edge of the glen, where the trees began once more, the sound of cracking branches interrupted them. The four companions swiveled round, Ryana, Saul, and Dain taking up positions around Lilia so that they surrounded her.
Gripping her knife hilt so hard her fingers hurt, Lilia peered over Saul’s shoulder at where the branches of the great spruce on the northern edge of the clearing began to sway.
Terror bubbled up within her—and heat started to pulse along her breast bone, spreading out across her chest. This time, she didn’t try to stop it.
A heartbeat later the dark curtain of branches on the northern edge of the clearing gave way and figures emerged into the glen.
24
The Enchanters of the Light
Lilia stared at the group that emerged from the trees.
They were not shadow creatures—but men and women. They wore smoke-grey, thick, quilted robes that reached just above the knee, cinched in at the waist with wide leather belts. The robes had bell-sleeves, and underneath they wore dark, high-necked tunics. Men and women alike wore fitted leather leggings and high hunting-style boots.
Many held burning torches aloft.
Lilia glanced at where Ryana stood, frozen, next to her.
A man stepped forward from the group. He was good-looking—strikingly so. Tall and athletic, with chiseled features, grey eyes, and long white-blond hair, he looked to be in his early thirties at most.
His gaze swept over the group before him, gathered in a tight knot in the center of the clearing, before his attention fixed upon Ryana.
She stared back, a muscle ticking in her jaw.
A heartbeat later, snapping in the undergrowth to the south of the glen made the man jerk his gaze from Ryana.
The blond man turned to the group behind him. “Form a perimeter,” he barked. “We camp here tonight.”
Without hesitation, the men and women bearing torches fanned out—a group of six forming a wide circle around them.
Lilia swung round, facing south at where a tide of writhing figures spewed forth from the tree line.
It was too late—the shadow creatures had found them.
Heart pounding, she stood rooted to the spot. Molten heat pulsed through Lilia—a warning that the change was almost upon her. Howls filled the glen as the same horrors they had seen decimate The Brotherhood’s encampment closed in on them.
The shrieks, grunts, and howls were deafening.
A group of torch-bearers cast their right hands in an arc before them. Golden light exploded in the heart of the glen, so bright that Lilia cried out and turned away, shielding her eyes from the glare.
Realization dawned. These were members of the Order of Light and Darkness.
When she straightened up, removing her hand from her smarting eyes, a shimmering veil of fire surrounded them. It was semi-transparent; she could see the outlines of enraged shadow creatures beyond. Some threw themselves against it, only to fall back howling; while others clawed and spat at the glowing barrier before withdrawing, hissing in fury.
Breathing hard, Lilia squeezed her eyes shut. Enough, she commanded her body. Stop now. There was still time to halt the process as her skin hadn’t started to crawl. She no longer needed to shift—and the last thing she needed was this group of enchanters to see her turn into a fox.
Slowly, the heat drew back, the pulsing fading to a faint glow in the center of her chest.
Exhaling sharply, Lilia opened her eyes.
There appeared to be a stand-off happening before her. The blond enchanter and Ryana were staring at each other, both their gazes weary.
Lilia glanced around. Dain was watching Ryana, gaze narrowed, while Saul stood apart from his three companions. Unaware Lilia was observing him, Saul’s gaze narrowed, and his mouth pursed as if he’d just tasted something bitter.
These enchanters had just saved his life, but he didn’t appear grateful.
Eventually, the man who led this group of enchanters spoke. Grey eyes crinkling at the corners, he inclined his head slightly. “Hello, Ryana.”
Ryana drew in a shaky breath, her face pale. “Asher,” she murmured. “This is … unexpected.”
The man, Asher, snorted.
Around him, grey-robed enchanters moved about the wide circular space that was to be their home for the night. Some were erecting low tents, while others built a fire on the bank above the trickling brook. They’d fallen into what must have been a nightly ritual—each appeared to have a role they carried out without question.
However, like her companions, Lilia didn’t move. She didn’t know what to say, or what to do. She didn’t even know if they were safe.
Ryana’s behavior unnerved her. She had promised to bring Lilia to the Order of Light and Darkness. But now that they’d met up with them on the road, she didn’t look that happy about it.
Ryana didn’t speak. She just stood there.
“Don�
��t look so worried,” Asher said finally, casting her an irritated look. “You know now the wards are up … nothing gets in or out of this clearing till dawn.”
Dain studied Lilia in the glow of the flickering fire. The golden light caressed the delicate lines of her face, her warm-brown eyes, soft mouth, and the scattering of freckles across her pert nose.
He’d enjoyed that kiss earlier in the day. Although he hadn’t planned it, he certainly had no regrets. Lilia was delicious.
Frustration rose within him. He wanted much more than a kiss from her. She sat close to him now, her thigh near enough to his that he could feel the warmth of her body.
Across the fire, Asher interrupted Dain’s heated thoughts. “I’ve always wanted to know … why you did it.” The enchanter’s grey eyes were shuttered as he watched Ryana across the fire.
Ryana avoided his gaze, her own fixed upon the flickering flames before her. “For Gael,” she finally whispered.
Asher’s brow furrowed. “That harpist?”
Ryana glanced up, her gaze meeting Asher’s. “He’s an Enchanter of the Dark, from Mirrar Rock’s House of Light and Darkness … and a member of The Brotherhood.”
Asher’s face hardened. “You’d help such a man?”
“He forced me to do his bidding.”
A few feet away, Saul snorted.
Ryana cast him a sharp look before meeting Asher’s eye. “It’s the truth.” Her throat bobbed. “I’m sorry for it … not a day has gone past that I don’t regret what I did.”
Silence stretched out after these words. Asher’s handsome face was expressionless, although his eyes were hard. Likewise, the faces of many of the enchanters seated around them were unfriendly, their gazes watchful.
Ryana eventually broke the tense hush, clearing her throat. “How have you been, Asher?”
“Fine, as you can see.” His voice was flat.
“You’re Head of the Light now?”
“Aye.”
Ryana’s mouth quirked. “I knew you’d do well.”
His gaze narrowed. “Did you, Ryana?”
