by Linda Kage
Melaina straightened, brutally calm. “If they caught him, dearest, he’s already dead.”
The mere possibility made my entire frame shudder. I shook my head, denying it.
“Yes.” She nodded. “The moment he realized a Graykey was his mate, he turned traitor to his people.” Her voice lacked all emotion. “You know it, I know it, he knew it. He’s already killed one of his own for you. His countrymen will not reward him with life for that.” She sounded almost kind—sympathetic—as she continued. “They will treat him as if he is a Graykey himself. So face the facts; he’s already gone.”
My shoulders heaved as I tried to breathe properly, but everything seemed to be caving in around my lungs. I think my heart must be bursting, and fragmented pieces were blocking my airways, blurring my vision, ringing in my ears…
“But he sacrificed himself for me,” I rasped, my voice going hoarse.
Melaina merely nodded. “As he was supposed to. That’s why we kept him, is it not? Because we knew he would always protect you.”
“No.” I shook my head savagely. “No. I kept him because he was mine.”
Clutching my face gently, she looked me straight in the eyes, revealing tears of blood on her cheeks. “And so he is yours. Now let him do his duty, sweetness. Let him die for you as you come to safety with me.”
“No!” I jerked my chin free of her hold and backed away slowly. “No. I’m not leaving this world without him.”
“Quilla.” She stomped her foot, and her voice hardened with authority. “Dammit. I will not be disobeyed.”
No longer the eight-year-old child she could order around, I shook my head, and wiped my eyes, knowing this was most likely the last time I’d ever see her. “He’s my true love, Melaina.”
“He is a stranger to you,” she argued. “So what if he’s supposed to end up as your soulmate? You can defy that destiny. You can come away with me right now and be safe. Chasing after him would be a death sentence. You don’t have to accept him as your mate.”
I edged another step back. “Except I already have.”
She shook her head, eyes filling with panic. “Quilla.” She started toward me, lifting her hand. “Baby. Please don’t leave me. You’ll die. You’ll die.” More blood dripped down her cheeks.
I lifted my own palms, warding her off as I backed away. “Maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll save him, and we can join you again. Tell Taiki I love her, and I hope to see you guys soon.”
Then I whirled around and took off, streaking through the forest.
“Quilla!” she called after me.
But I kept going.
I’m not even sure where I was going. Or what I was going to do when I got there. I just followed my heart. And it led me toward Indigo.
When pain flamed through my arm, burning into my mark and telling me I’d triggered another magical perimeter breach, I knew I was going in the right direction. He’d be this way, right in the thick of things and surrounded by the enemy.
My jog turned into a sprint.
When a uniformed guard, heavily weighed down by armor and sporting High Cliff colors, stepped out from behind a tree and directly into my path to face off with me, I didn’t even slow down. If anything, I bowed my head like a bull and charged forward even harder. He lifted a sword above his head, slow and clunky. I whipped out my daggers, one held in each hand.
We met. He swung. I dipped low, sliding past him in the dirt, and ended up behind him, where I sprang back to my feet and whirled to stab him in the back of the neck before he could follow me around.
Hitting him right in the open space between the bottom of his helmet and top of his chest plate, I listened to his death moan echo from the inside of his hood before he slumped to his knees, then fell forward, lifeless.
And thus, I became a Graykey murderess.
“Here!” A shout came from nearby, alerting me to another soldier. “We got one over here.”
Blinking away the daze of what I’d just done, I spun to find two more men rushing into the tiny clearing. These two weren’t covered in metal, leaving me way more targets to hit. So I threw the knife at one, thinking Indigo would be so proud that I finally aimed for the body this time when it struck true, hitting the man in the heart.
The other man was too close for me to throw my second dagger at.
He brandished a battle-ax and swung it freely, going for my neck. But I ducked, swiping toward his torso with my blade as I went.
He was too quick and leaped back, bowing his body out to avoid a cut.
Dammit.
He stepped forward, his boot landing on the hem of my dress. We both paused and looked down at the ripping sound that followed as his move split the material straight up my leg, revealing a naked thigh. Then we looked up at each other together, both our eyes wide over the strangeness of how he’d managed to ruin my skirt like that by merely stomping on it. But then I used my new freedom of movement to jerk my knee up, hitting him right between the legs.
Eyes crossing, he grunted out a breath, clutched himself, and tipped over sideways. I punched him in the side of the head as he went down, to knock him out for good measure.
I messed up, though; I spent too long blinking at his mammoth, crumpled form, still in awe over the fact that I’d been able to best such a huge beast. By the time I sensed a presence behind me, it was too late. A solid bulk slammed into the center of my back, stealing my breath and knocking me to my knees.
With the wind punched from my lungs and my vision spinning with dizziness, I wavered upright for a second before pitching face-forward and landing slumped over the man I’d just knocked unconscious.
Pain paralyzed me, exploding freshly in my mouth and cutting open my lip as my face slammed into the earth, while the throbbing line across my spine seemed to immobilize my arms. Skirts tangled around my legs, trapping me further. I couldn’t even struggle as a rough arm grabbed my shoulder and spun me around onto my back so I was able to look up into the face of my attacker.
The stranger snarled down at me, saying, “Hello, black eyes,” before he straightened and lifted a club over his head.
I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for impact. This was going to kill me. I just knew it.
But a male voice yelled, “Wait.”
Releasing a breath, I cracked open an eye as someone else with an air of authority about him approached. He didn’t even bother to remove his sword from its scabbard at his side, as if battling was beneath him.
“The reward will be larger if we keep her alive.”
Grumbling, my henchman lowered the club so he could reach down with his other hand to grab a handful of my hair. Then he lifted me.
I cried out when chunks of tresses tore free from my scalp, while others held firm as he pulled me up, far enough off the ground to leave my legs dangling and kicking out to find some kind of footing. Tears of pain filled my eyes as my handler answered, “But I thought they’d already caught one for the procedure. We don’t need to keep two alive.”
Another one?
Were they talking about Indigo?
Had they caught Indigo?
No!
“I haven’t heard confirmation yet that the other is honestly a Graykey,” the older man answered, stopping in front of me, and narrowing his eyes with disgust as he peered into mine that had to be pure black right now. Then he sneered and grabbed my arm, flipping it over to reveal my mark. “But you’re definitely a Graykey. Aren’t you, my pretty one?”
I didn’t answer.
He stepped closer. “You were probably the very monster who murdered my boy? Did you kill my son—my Axel—you little whore?”
Axel?
Oh dear God. This was Indigo’s uncle Everett, wasn’t it? The one who’d degraded him for being a High Clifter and turned him into a servant in his own family’s home? Who’d beaten him for trying to go to Warren to find me and threw him in a dungeon for days on end afterward?
Already hating the pompous windbag, I narrow
ed my eyes and growled, “Go to hell.”
He smacked me. High. Right across the temple, which seemed to break open a blood vessel at the top of my cheekbone and the corner of my eye.
“Answer me!” he roared. “What happened to Axel? Who killed him?”
I’d die before I let him know who truly took his son’s life. Trying to see him clearly with one eye swelling and blood dripping down my chin, I worked my mouth as I gathered saliva, and then I spit, nailing him right in the face.
With a roar, he walloped me on the side of the head again, causing more hair to pull free from my scalp and fresh pain to bloom across the length of my cheek as my neck creaked from the unnatural angle he cranked it.
My brain blinked off and then back on, filling my vision with stars as I came back to myself.
“Fucking bitch,” my captor was snarling as he wiped my spittle out of his eye. “You’ll pay for that. I may not be able to kill you now, but I can make you suffer nice and long before I do. You’ll scream until you wished you were dead.”
“Your son screamed,” I shot back, my voice hoarse. “When he died, he screamed for mercy and begged for his daddy. But you never came, so I slaughtered his pathetic ass.”
I’m not sure why I told him that. Maybe I didn’t want him to ever know Indigo had been in any way involved. Maybe I wanted to enrage him enough to simply kill me now, so I wouldn’t suffer through what would certainly happen to me if I was imprisoned. Or maybe I just didn’t like this guy, and I relished that pained look of horror that crossed his face as I lied.
In any case, he totally believed me.
Bellowing in devastated outrage, he struck me again.
And my world went dark.
Chapter 32
Indigo
I led my pursuers on a merry chase for a good two hours, remaining just enough ahead of them that kept them following me and yet far enough out that they didn’t catch me.
Every few minutes, I’d tap my temple, making it crackle to see if it was still there.
And cursing every time it was.
Quilla should be gone by now. Out of the Outer Realms entirely, and the mark should be gone with her. Why the hell was she still here?
Was she okay? Hurt?
Panic clawed up my throat, worried about all the what-ifs.
The mark would warn me if she was in excessive trouble. I was too far away from her to catch most of her emotions, but I’d be alerted immediately if she was experiencing something extreme. And I hadn’t been alerted, so whatever she was still doing here in the Outer Realms, it wasn’t life-or-death severe yet.
At least I could be comforted by that.
I’d just paused next to a large bush that hid me and the horse well enough to wait on the others to catch up a little when an arrow whizzed past my face and embedded itself into the trunk of the tree next to me.
“Shit!” I crouched low over the mare’s neck and kicked her flank, getting her to shoot forward. But I didn’t get far. A line of soldiers stepped out of the trees in front of me, blocking my path.
Skidding to a stop, I turned the horse around, only to realize there were more.
They’d found me, and they were closing in. The men bore bows, and every single one of them had an arrow nocked and pulled back, aimed at my heart.
Surrounded by archers was far different than being surrounded by men with basically any other weapon. I could handle hand-to-hand combat all day long. But having over a dozen projectiles lobbed at my head would be another matter entirely.
I stopped and lifted my hands, letting them think I was surrendering.
I wasn’t even close to being done fighting, but I did know how to hedge my bets. I’d have to get them in closer and force them to put aside the bows for something with sharper edges. And then we’d have us a fine ol’ party.
“Off the horse,” one of them called.
Used to dismounting now without the use of my hands—since I’d gone so long having them shackled together—I kept my arms up and swung one leg over the saddle before hopping to the ground. I glanced at my forearms, glad the leather wrist guards were in place. They’d have no idea I still had a sword and shield full of electricity hidden in my wrist cuffs until it was too late.
“On your knees,” came another order, as the men took a step toward me in unison. In very synchronized unison. It was then I realized how they were dressed. Decked out in full metal armor, they weren’t at all clothed like the mob of villagers who’d been with Axel during Quilla’s first perimeter trap breach the day before.
Dammit, why hadn’t I realized that from the beginning?
If these were different men, then where the hell was the first posse who’d run from Holly’s dragon? These trained warriors were dressed and looked like damn palace guards. But High Cliff palace guards typically only traveled with—
Royalty.
Which would mean, someone royal was near.
“What do we have here?” A cultured male voice asked, causing a row of guards to separate and allow their leader to enter the ring in order to approach me.
I recognized the voice, and relief flooded me as I watched the crown prince of High Cliff approach.
“My lord,” I gushed, falling to one knee and bowing my head loyally as I lowered my raised hands so I could fist one and press it to my heart, swearing my allegiance.
The prince jerked to a surprised halt. “Indy?”
I glanced up and sent him a rueful grin. “Hey, Erick.”
Erick blinked once, then turned to the guard closest to him. “What the hell is this?” he demanded as he motioned to me.
“It—it’s the Graykey man we caught,” the soldier answered a bit uncertainly, seemingly confused by his prince’s obvious ire.
Erick snorted in his face. “Graykey man, my ass. He’s no more Graykey than I am.”
The soldier seemed even more confused. “My lord?”
“Are you seriously telling me that I was woken from a dead sleep in the middle of the night—where I was tucked up against a very warm and comfortable wife, I might add—with an urgent message from these Teller motherfuckers saying to come with the utmost haste because they were about to apprehend a blood-born Graykey, only for me to get here and find this?” When Erick motioned toward me again, he sighed and rolled his eyes. “Congratulations, gentlemen,” he dryly announced. “You just caught Indigo Moast, one of the greatest warriors the kingdom of High Cliff has ever had.”
The guards gaped at me, before one mumbled, “You mean, he’s a High Clifter?”
Erick closed his eyes briefly and groaned. “Do you see the tattoo on his temple and not his forearm? Jesus, yes, he’s a High Clifter.”
I silently pointed to the love mark on the side of my head, which should’ve been noticeable way before now, and then I held out my arms, exposing both forearms that were free of any marks.
“And not only that,” Erick fumed. “But he's a very good friend of mine.”
“But…” Another guard shook his head as if confused. “But he ran from us, my lord. We thought—we were sure he was—”
“Did he begin to run from you before or after you took up chase after him?” Erick asked darkly. “Because I’ll tell you right now, if a mob of men with pitchforks and shouts of righteous indignation suddenly took up chase after me, I’d damn well run too.” Then he shook his head with disgust and muttered, “Idiots,” under his breath before snapping, “Indy,” as he glared my way. “Get off your fucking knees and haul your ass over here.”
I grinned. “Yes, my lord.”
I rose and started toward him. He shook his head as if disgusted with me too, only to open his arms and pull me into a full-body embrace. “Christ, it’s good to see you, my friend.”
“You too as well, Erick.”
Patting my back, he pulled away, finally grinning as he looked me over. “I swear, my little brother took all the best soldiers with him when he and Allera headed up to Donnelly, the little shit.”
>
I glanced toward the very soldiers he was belittling still standing around him. “Maybe that’s because Urban knows how to inspire loyalty and hard work from his knights, whereas King Ignatius…” Clearing my throat discreetly, I finished with a mumbled, “Does not.”
Erick lifted his eyebrows at the slur against his father. “Not that I entirely disagree, mind you, but…” He gave a low whistle. “Those are some mighty strong words to say against your sovereign, Moast. Might I suggest you guard your tongue so no one can accuse you of treason?”
I merely shrugged. “Ignatius hasn’t been my king in years, Erick. I serve another now.”
“True.” Erick nodded in agreement. “In fact, the last message I received from my sister in Donnelly said you’d left Urban’s army as well and had decided to lead your own warriors for her sister-in-law Nicolette in Far Shore.” His brow furrowed quizzically. “But this is not Far Shore either.” He leaned close and lowered his voice. “So seriously, what the hell are you doing down here, Indigo?”
“I got a sense of my true love,” I started with a proud grin. “So I left my post with Nicolette to follow my mark here, and—well…” I shrugged helplessly. “You know how it goes.”
Smiling fondly, Erick touched his own love mark and nodded. “That I do. Congratulations, my friend. But, uh…” He glanced around. “Where is she? Are you still trying to catch her or what?”
Wincing uneasily, I shifted, not sure how to tell him the next part. “Well, that’s the thing, actually.”
He squinted, not understanding. “What do you mean?”
Before I could explain anything further, the shrill scream of a raven sounded above. It swooped down, and its homing human stepped forward, stretching up an arm covered with a leather gauntlet to his elbow. The bird settled on the glove’s sleeve and croaked low in its throat until its human untied the message from its leg and gave it a sunflower seed in payment. It squawked in thanks and took off flying again.
“My lord,” the raven’s homing human called, his voice urgent as he stepped forward. “Everett of House Teller sends a message, saying they’ve confirmed the capture of a Graykey female.”
