Bride of the Traitor: A Prophecy of Sisters Novel

by Faiman, Hayley

  “I lost mine in the bed of a pickup on prom night, it was cliché and awful,” I groan.

  They all stare at me, completely confused by my words. “Oh.” I smile. “After a dance with my date. It was terrible, he too was gone before I could even roll over.”

  We’re all sharing, but I notice that Jasmine doesn’t say anything. Her gaze is assessing and she smiles sadly, but still doesn’t speak.

  “I want so badly for it to be him. Merek is so lovely, brave and strong,” she whispers. “But today he will not even look me in the eye.”

  “He’s a jackass then,” I point out. “You deserve better.”

  Katrina shakes her head. “He is nobility, and a warrior, there is no better.”

  My lips twitch. “There is. A man who is strong and sweet, who cherishes you even if he is poor and common is better,” Jasmine states with a nod.

  I watch as she turns and walks away from our huddle. She has a story. She’s not ready to share it maybe, but there is a story there and I’m so nosey and dying to know what it is. Today isn’t the time to ask her though, one day, when she’s ready, she’ll tell me.

  Shifting my attention back to Katrina, I notice that she’s watching Jasmine as well. “She hides things, but I think she must because I have a feeling what she hides is painful,” she whispers softly.

  “I think you could be right,” I agree.

  “So, you’ll be ignoring Merek, then?” Ellyn asks.

  Katrina’s gaze shifts from Ellyn to me, then lifts beyond me and I know that she is looking at Merek. Something crosses her features and I realize that it’s determination. “I’ll be ignoring him,” she snaps.

  “Good girl,” I whisper.

  Though, I realize that she is possibly much stronger than I am, because I don’t think I could ignore Elias, not even if I tried. I’ve fallen in love with him and I have a feeling that he already knows it and he knows that I will never deny him anything—not a damn thing.

  ELIAS

  Guiding Godiva and Aleida away from the rest of the crowd, I place my fists on my hips and look down at them. To their credit, they look innocent enough, but I know these two old witches have to sense Sybilla’s powers.

  “She holds magic and you have not told me, why?” I demand.

  Aleida blinks, her gaze shifting behind me, then back to meet my own. “I did not sense it within her, Your Highness,” she breathes.

  “Until?”

  “Yesterday. The weather, it wasn’t charged by nature, by the gods of nature. It was magical. I wasn’t sure if it was her or not. Why do you think that it is?” she asks.

  Clearing my throat, I debate not telling either of them about how I discovered that my wife holds magic. I know not of what this means for the prophecy, but I know that it has something to do with it.

  “We had a disagreement. She became emotional, she cried, and I heard the thunder, the rain and saw the lightning. It wasn’t the first time, earlier in the day I’d found out that she became emotionally upset and I predict that’s when the first rainstorm came from nowhere.”

  “Gods,” Godiva breathes. “If her emotions wield the weather, she is strong, stronger than I imagined possible. I cannot sense her powers in the slightest, Your Highness.”

  “How?” I demand. “You two told me you could sense them. Have you lifted the enchantment on suppressing them?” I demand.

  Aleida shakes her head. “The enchantment is still intact, Your Majesty. She is stronger than that, it is something I have never witnessed before.”

  “By gods bones, what are we dealing with?” I demand.

  Godiva reaches for me, her frail hand wraps around mine and she squeezes. “Your bride and her magic can be a boon. You must not think of it as a curse, you must think of the good that it can bring.”

  I almost snort, wondering how to make it work in my favor. If my farmers’ crops suffer, then all I have to do is make Sybilla cry for water. It is too great a burden. I do not wish to make her sad, to see her cry. It hurt my heart, twisted it and caused it to ache seeing the hurt on her face, I never want her to be sad another day in her life.

  “You waver, Your Majesty. Do not. This will be a boon. We have no choice, but to watch the prophecy unfold the way that it is meant to. We cannot stop our lives, or the lives of the people around us and hold our breaths to see what will happen with your queen or her sisters. We must just watch and wait, be ready when needed.”

  Looking over my shoulder at Sybilla as she holds the hand of her handmaid, I shake my head. “If she is with child, how does this magic affect the babe?” I ask.

  Aleida smirks. “My son holds no magic in his body. He was born a fat healthy babe, and as any proud mother, I do think that he is smart and handsome as well,” she boasts.

  Smirking, I dip my chin. “But she is not of this world, and she holds magic, this cannot be normal... she cannot be…”

  “Quiet,” Godiva snaps. “Your queen did not have a choice in coming here. This was thrust upon her. She has handled everything with the grace and courage of a true queen. She is your match, Your Highness. She is bound to her true love and he is bound to her, meaning you are bound to her.”

  Her gaze bores into mine, her eyes beginning to swirl with purple and black in a way that is so unnatural, it is unnerving. I try to take a step back, but she lifts her hand and presses it against my chest.

  A warm sensation fills me from the inside out as she mumbles some words that I do not understand. Then, as suddenly as she began, she drops her hand and everything is back the way that it was.

  “What have you done?” I grind out.

  Godiva smirks. “You shall open your heart to your queen, and I know eventually you would do so on your own. We don’t have time to wait, Your Highness. I just made things a bit easier for you.”

  “How?” I demand.

  Godiva and Aleida both watch me for a moment, silently. Then Aleida speaks. “You are guarded. Your past hurts have been diminished inside of you. The pain from your father, from his treatment, it is no longer there, is it not?”

  Lifting my hand to my chest, I rub the center, my gaze focused on my boots. I allow myself to think about my father, about his treatment not only of me, but also my mother.

  I think about how he betrayed Bunafi, for a traitor.

  How he gave away my beloved country, my birthright, so that he could access her anchovy as he pleased, as if a king could not find that anywhere he liked.

  The pain that usually accompanies those thoughts, the shame and embarrassment at being blood-related to that man, it doesn’t fill me as it usually does.

  Shifting my gaze from my feet, I meet Godiva’s gaze. She smiles, reaching for my hand and gives me a squeeze with her bony fingers. “It was a burden too great that you carried, Your Highness.”

  “A burden that I should not be rid of. For how can ensure that I not repeat the past if I do not feel the consequences of that past on my shoulders weighing me down?”

  Godiva shakes her head. “You will never forget, Your Highness, I did not take your memories away from you. Plus, you are not him, therefore you will not repeat your father’s mistakes. You do not need to feel as if you betrayed Bunafi when you have done more for this country than any other man I have ever known.”

  Godiva releases my hand and without another word she and Aleida turn their backs to me and walk away, heading toward the creek, no doubt to refresh themselves so that we may return to the rest of our journey for the day.

  Perhaps they are right. Maybe I don’t need to feel the pain of my father’s betrayal weighing me down. I admit that I feel lighter than I have in decades. Though, I wonder if it’s a lightness that entails considerable cost.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  SYBILLA

  Travel log.

  Day four.

  My ass is killing me.

  Not just a little bit either. It hurts in a way I didn’t think possible. It doesn’t matter if I’m standing, sitting, lying d
own, or sleeping.

  It. Still. Hurts.

  Elias and I made love the first night on this trip, since then I’ve been too exhausted and sore to even entertain the idea of his hands and dick anywhere near me. He must sense my absolute horrendous pain, because he hasn’t even attempted to touch me in three days.

  “We will be there on the morrow’s eve, as long as we continue to ride throughout today and wake up at first light tomorrow,” he explains, his mouth so close to the shell of my ear that it startles me.

  I wasn’t paying attention to anything, rather looking ahead at this huge mountain in the distance. The mountain is so dark gray that it is almost black with what looks like pink tips.

  “I’ve never seen anything like that before,” I say, lifting my hand and pointing toward the mountain.

  There’s a moment of silence before Elias speaks. “You do not have mountains in your world?” he asks, sounding confused.

  Smiling, I look back to him, my eyes finding his as he dips his chin to look into my face. “We have them,” I say softly. “They are usually green or brown, in some areas they’re gray because they are rocky. But they look nothing like this, these are hauntingly beautiful.”

  Elias hums, his eyes searching mine and he lifts his lips with a twitch. “You’re hauntingly gorgeous, sweeting,” he whispers, lifting his arm and cupping my breast. “I ache for you, my queen,” his voice rumbles.

  Suddenly, my ass doesn’t hurt anymore, instead I ache for him too, painfully. My stomach clenches as I let out a whimper of pain. Sucking my lips between my teeth, the sensation of need overwhelms me to the point where my entire body hurts.

  “Something is wrong,” I breathe.

  Elias nods, his lips pressed into a flat straight line. I’m vaguely aware of him pulling back on the reins and shouting something out, but I can’t hear his words as blood roars in my ears. He dismounts before he roughly pulls me off of Storm.

  Without a word, he throws me over his shoulder, like a sack of potatoes, and marches away from our group. The forest grows thicker with each step that he takes and I hear the roar of the river that cancels out the roar of the blood pounding in my ears before I’m finally sliding down his body and placed on my feet.

  I’m not grounded for long, Elias picks me up by the backs of my thighs and presses me against the trunk of a tree, my legs instantly wrap around his waist. Reaching for my own skirts, as if I’m not in my right mind, I lift them up my legs as far as they’ll reach.

  When I feel the head of his cock press against my center, my eyes find his black glittering ones and I give him a small smile. “Please, it hurts,” I whisper.

  He leans forward with his lips touching mine before he drives himself inside of me to the root. “This pain, it is not just from the witch’s spell,” he murmurs against my lips.

  I let out a sigh of relief as he stretches me. Slipping my tongue out, I taste his lips which emanates a growl from deep in his throat. His hands wrap around my waist, holding me at the same time his hips press my back against the tree.

  “It’s something bigger, isn’t it?” I breathe, needing him to move.

  He hums, pulling out and slamming back inside. I can feel the bark of the tree scrape my back and I know that it’s messing up my hair, but I don’t care. I need this more than he could imagine. I’m not going to be able to ride another mile until we’re both satisfied.

  Elias’ pelvis grinds against mine, his mouth still touching mine, his eyes glittering more than I’ve ever seen before.

  “It is the gods, Sybilla. The gods blessed this union, knowing that we are part of the prophecy. They bind us together with a need that is stronger than our own. A need that fills us from the inside out, a need that will result in something so much bigger than just us.”

  Lifting my hand, I wrap my fingers around the base of his neck, squeezing and wanting to clarify that this need that is bigger, it’s love, but I don’t want to scare him off. He pulls out and plunges back inside of me, expertly.

  I gasp, loving the way his warmth fills me, over and over. Loving him. Leaning back slightly, I want to watch his glittering eyes as he takes me. His jaw is clenched, his teeth grinding together as he concentrates on taking me, his nostrils flaring with each stroke of his cock.

  “Take me, Elias. Own me,” I beg.

  His lips touch mine in just a simple brush before he speaks. “I already do, sweeting. Before I ever laid eyes on you, I owned you.”

  Without another word, his tongue slips into my mouth, twisting, tangling and stroking me at the same time his control slips and he pounds into me. My back is going to be torn up, my dress as well, but it doesn’t matter.

  All that matters is my king is inside of me, relieving the ache and pain that had been building inside of my body—inside of his as well. Standing on the edge, I can almost see myself ready to fall over into the abyss of pleasure.

  My legs begin to tremble, my pussy clenching down around him, trying to keep his cock buried inside of me, I rip my mouth from his and I cry out as I come.

  His roar follows shortly, as he’s burying his cock deep inside of me and his face is against my neck, his release fills my body. I let out a sigh as I feel his cum inside of me, relieving the pain from within.

  Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I clench my thighs around his waist to keep him pressed against me and inside of me. He lets out a groan, his breath fanning my neck before his lips touch my skin.

  “Sybilla,” he rasps.

  “My King,” I breathe.

  He hums. “Yes. Your king, your only,” he mutters.

  I don’t tell him that he is indeed my only, in so many different ways. The only man I’ve ever felt this way about. The only man that I have allowed myself to fall in love with. The only man who looks at me as though I am precious. The only man that I would give up my entire world for, even my sisters.

  Only him.

  Only my king.

  ELIAS

  I don’t miss the looks that the men give me as I guide Sybilla back to our group. The horses are being watered and fed, far away from where we’ve just consumed one another. Pressing my hand to the small of her back, I gently shove her toward her women.

  She looks back at me, giving me a small smile and those eyes of hers watch me for a brief moment before she turns toward her women and makes her way near them.

  I watch her go, my lips twitching at how mussed up her hair is, how her dress is a bit worse for wear, and I think it’s the best sight I’ve laid eyes on in a long while.

  “You know, it’s a shame that we cannot just have our way with her pretty little handmaids, especially when you go off and your voices echo around us. My cock aches, brother,” Rowan practically whines.

  “They are servants, not slaves, so no you will not just have your way with them,” I snap at the same time I hear Merek growl. “Why don’t you settle down and get a woman of your own, then, Rowan?”

  Rowan shakes his head with a smirk. “I do not plan on ever doing that,” he snaps. “I like my water supply to flow, not be dammed and we all know wives have a tendency to cut the flow off, and frequently. Always complaining of headaches, no thank you, Your Highness,” he snorts.

  Merek chuckles and I follow his lead. “It did not sound like your King is suffering from a blocked flow,” Merek points out.

  Rowan leans forward. “It is new, you’re possessed by some prophecy of the gods, and you’re a king. This is vastly different than a warrior knight.”

  “This is true, Elias. Vastly different,” Merek points out, though he sounds distracted.

  Flicking my gaze to him, I notice that he’s staring at something behind me. Turning my head, I look over my shoulder and follow his gaze. He’s watching the white-haired handmaid, I believe her name is Katrina.

  I jerk my chin to Rowan and Asher who are standing with us and thankfully they walk away leaving me alone with my cousin.

  “You want her, cousin?” I guess.

 
; Merek’s head jerks and his eyes glance around before they connect with mine. “Matters not, Elias,” he brushes off.

  “Why is that?”

  I watch as my cousin rocks back on his heels, putting his hands behind his back. “She is untouched. Pure. At her age, with her beauty, I assume it is for good reason. I cannot take that from her, no matter how badly I want it.”

  Looking over my shoulder, I spy the pretty maid. She is a sight with her white hair and piercing green eyes. She’s young, but not too much so, probably around twenty-four years. She flicks her gaze over to Merek, and I watch as pain etches her features, she feels longing for him as well.

  “Do you want her because she holds great beauty or do you want her because you have feelings inside of your heart for her?” I ask.

  Merek’s brows draw together. “You of all people know that it matters not, Elias. My bride will not be common just as yours was not. Though, Sybilla holds no royal titles, she was chosen by the gods and that trumps anything else.”

  Nodding, I agree with his words. A bride bound to you by the gods means more than any man-created title imaginable. However, I cannot let my cousin’s wishes and desires go completely unfulfilled.

  “If you are so determined to marry for politics, who says she cannot be your paramour?”

  Merek’s eyes flash with anger. “My father was no better than yours, Elias. In fact, I think mine was worse as he paraded his women in front of my mother, forced her to suffer them at his dining table night and day. I would never, not to a woman that I’d given my vows to.”

  “Even if you held deep affection for the woman as you obviously are forming with this maid?”

  Merek shakes his head. “I would not.”

  “You would rather suffer? You would rather watch her marry another, carry his babes, suffer as she cares for him in a way where she would and could care for you instead?”