by Frost Kay
King’s Warrior
The Aermian Feuds Book Four
Frost Kay
Contents
Kingdoms of Aermia
Prologue
1. Tehl
2. The Warlord
3. Tehl
4. Mira
5. Sage
6. Sage
7. Tehl
8. Sage
9. Sage
10. Sage
11. Tehl
12. Sage
13. Tehl
14. Tehl
15. Sage
16. Sage
17. Sage
18. Sam
19. Sage
20. Sage
21. Lilja
22. Sage
23. Jasmine
24. Sam
25. Tehl
26. Sage
27. Rafe
28. Sage
29. Tehl
30. Tehl
31. Sage
32. Jasmine
33. Sam
34. Sage
35. Sage
36. Sage
37. Tehl
38. Sage
39. Tehl
40. Sage
41. The Warlord
The Next Book
Chapter 42
43. Lilja
44. Hayjen
About the Author
King’s Warrior
Copyright © 2018 Renegade Publishing, LLC
First Edition
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any format or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
For information on reproducing sections of this book or sales of this book go to www.frostkay.net
Cover by Amy Queau
Formatting by Renegade Publishing
Copy Editing by Madeline Dyer
Proofreading by Holmes Edits & Pauline Creeden
Created with Vellum
To the man in my life that showed me what real love is. It’s hard, it’s gritty, but it’s everything. Loving and creating a family with you has been one of my greatest accomplishments. This story is for you. You’re the hero of mine.
Kingdoms of Aermia
Prologue
Fear is a powerful thing.
It can slap you in the face or sneak up on you, and then slowly drag you into the suffocating darkness that always seems to linger right out of sight.
It’s crippling to know that it could strike at any moment, and steal the very breath from your body, the thoughts from your mind.
But there are worse things than fear.
Haunting memories. Pretty monsters. Self-destruction.
But they aren’t all powerful. They can be conquered. Broken does not mean ruined.
There’s strength in healing.
In love.
Sage thought she knew love.
She didn’t.
Until Tehl.
One
Tehl
Stars above. She was here. In his arms.
Tehl buried his nose in his wife’s hair, trembling. Sage was home.
He’d always been realistic, and, deep down, he’d felt like he’d never see her again—that he’d find her dead body somewhere. A tear dripped down his face, mingling with the dirt and sweat on his skin. Only now, as he held her in his arms, alive and breathing, could he accept that, deep down, he’d never really expected to bring her back for more than a proper burial.
“You’re home,” he murmured, his lips brushing the top of her damp head. His mind raced with questions, but he dismissed them, oblivious to anything but the woman in his arms.
“Home,” Sage whispered into his vest, her voice weak as her body slumped against his.
He tightened his grip as she sank into him. “I’ll take you home.” Her family would be beside themselves when they saw her. “Let’s go home.”
But Sage didn’t reply. Alarmed, Tehl craned his neck and peered down at her. Face slack, lips blue, she lay heavy in his arms, her parted lips releasing small unsteady puffs of breath.
“Sage?” he asked, shaking her. His own breath caught in his chest when she didn’t stir. Something wasn’t right. He hoisted her and shivered as the chill from her body seeped through his clothing.
“Zachael! I need you. She’s too cold.” Tehl turned on his heel and then froze at the menacing snarl that ripped through the air. He slowly turned back to the leren, making eye contact with the man-eater.
“Steady, boy,” the weapons master breathed from somewhere behind him. “The beast is concerned for its mistress. Speak slowly and calmly to it.”
Tehl’s arms trembled as he held Sage away from his body like an offering, forcing his movements to be precise. “Easy. I’m not going to hurt your mistress, but she needs to be warmed or she’ll die.”
Sage shivered as he spoke, her whole body trembling, punctuating his statement. The beast’s ears flattened, but it remained where it was. Tehl nodded; likely, that was all he was going to get from the creature, and he didn’t have time to wait for more. Ignoring every instinct that commanded him to do otherwise, he slowly turned his back to the animal, his heart thudding in his chest. Zachael detached himself from his men and warily approached, his gaze pinned over Tehl’s shoulder. The weapons master pulled his attention from the leren and motioned to Tehl.
“We need to get her dry as soon as possible,” Zachael murmured. He laid a hand against Sage’s chest, his face grave. “Her body is dangerously cold. There’s no time to lose.” The weapons master yanked his cloak from his shoulders and placed it on the ground.
Tehl dropped to his knees and gently laid Sage across the cloak. She looked so fragile and blue, as though she was already dead. His breath caught at the grim thought, and he steeled himself. Life was never certain, but surely it couldn’t be so cruel as to give him a few moments with her and then let her die?
He shook his head, dismissing the idea as he began to unbutton her heavy, sodden vest. It did her no good for him to sit in fear. All that mattered was here and now. He hesitated when her shirt opened beneath his fingers, revealing creamy skin pebbled with goosebumps. He glanced at his men. Warmth and gratitude filled him despite the circumstances; his men had turned their backs and formed a protective barrier around him and his wife, respecting her privacy.
“Hurry up, son,” Zachael admonished. “We don’t have time to dally.”
Tehl’s numb fingers fumbled as he yanked off his cloak and dumped it unceremoniously on the ground. With care, he lifted Sage’s torso, pulling the sodden top from her body before hastily covering her bust with his own cloak.
His jaw ticked when he caught sight of the monstrosity still wrapped around her neck, partially hidden by her hair. The collar’s thorns had embedded themselves into her delicate skin, causing an angry red. It made him want to puke. The warlord had collared his wife like an animal. A rage unlike anything he’d ever known ignited inside him. A hard haze descended over his vision; the only sound he heard was the beating of his own heart.
The warlord would pay.
That monster would pay.
Tehl reached for the collar just as Zachael placed a hand on top of his.
The weapons master shook his head, sorrow in his eyes. “Not now. It’s deeply embedded in her flesh. We’ll need a healer to remove it. If you try now, you will cause more harm.”
The collar glinted in the light, as though taunting him. How c
ould he leave that thing on his wife?
“Think about your wife, what she needs most.” Zachael seemed to read his thoughts.
His friend was right. His fury wouldn’t serve Sage.
Tehl swallowed hard and nodded jerkily, scrubbing her damp hair with the corner of his cloak while Zachael yanked her boots and socks off.
Someone paused by his side. “For your princess, and my sister.”
He glanced at Sam who averted his gaze from Sage, a bundle of cloaks over his arm.
Emotion clogged Tehl’s throat as he handed his wet cloak to his brother and wrapped one of the dry ones around Sage’s shivering form. He settled her on the ground and eyed the leather encasing her legs. There was no way he could get her out of wet leathers. Zachael pulled a blade from his sheath as another growl brought them both up short.
“Listen here, beast,” Zachael said sternly. “I understand you’re worried about her. We all are. But if you don’t stop threatening and scaring everyone around us, you’ll make it that much harder for us to help Sage. You’re welcome to watch over her, just stop growling. It will all be okay.” His tone brooked no argument.
Tehl stiffened as the beast chuffed, onyx fur teasing the edge of his vision. A tail brushed his back, causing his pulse to jump and his brother to curse. He blew out a breath as the feline settled beside him, surveying the scene.
“We need to cut her out,” the weapons master said, dismissing the man-eater at their side. “Do I have your permission?” His blade hovered above her leather-clad hip.
“Do what you must.”
Zachael eyed the beast and slowly began cutting the leather. The feline’s body tensed beside them, but she didn’t make any moves toward Zachael. His progress was slow, so Tehl drew his own blade, earning a hiss from the leren. Tehl held out his weapon on a flat palm so the beast could sniff it, praying it didn’t bite his hand off. His fingers twitched as the feline locked eyes with him and sniffed. Its lips curled back slightly, but it didn’t attack. He pulled his hand back gently.
“I’m going to help.”
Grimly, Tehl set to the task of cutting the sodden leather, anxiety rising as Sage’s shivers ceased. A bad sign, he knew.
“How far to the camp?” he asked as, at last, the stiff leather was pulled away. He set about working the cloak around her frozen toes.
“Not far, but it will be hard regardless…” Sam railed in response. Tehl nodded, tucking Sage’s fingers underneath her arms and wrapping her up tightly.
“Let’s ride.” Immediately, his men mobilized.
“Blast.” Sam frowned.
Tehl followed his gaze to Jasmine, who’d sunk to the ground and now listed back and forth, her eyelids heavy, skin ashen.
“Why hasn’t she been taken care of?” Sam barked.
“We’ve done the best we could. She wouldn’t let us near her, and she’s clearly not well enough to redress herself on her own,” James growled, glaring at the stubborn woman.
“I don’t care what you have to do, but you get her warm and ready to travel,” Tehl said before moving toward the copse of trees.
“I can handle this,” Sam muttered, storming over to Jasmine. “Are you bloody stupid?”
“Ma-a-ay-be-e-e, bu-ut at least I-I-I am no-t-t-t ugly,” she stuttered.
Sam yanked a blade from his waist and squatted. “Ugly is better than dead.”
Tehl kept walking as stuttered curses burst from behind him. He ignored them. The bloody woman was too proud. She had to know she couldn’t possibly do more on her own.
Tehl’s men fanned out around him as they pushed through the last of the trees, their horses coming into view. They suddenly reared back and shied away; he stumbled and nearly fell. What in the blazes?
His gaze dropped to Sage’s furry protector who licked her lips. Oh, hell no.
He stopped and met the feline’s golden gaze squarely. “Our horseflesh is not for you to eat.” It felt silly speaking to an animal, but, so far, she seemed to understand him. His mind flashed to the camp full of his men. “I’m taking your mistress to camp where we can heal her properly. None of my people are food. None. You hunt outside of my camp. If you hunt inside my camp, we will hunt you.”
The feline growled at his tone, but with a flick of her tail and a chuff, she seemed to acknowledge his demands.
Tehl walked faster and handed Sage off to Zachael as he swung up onto his own mount’s back. The dark warhorse shied away from the feline lurking close by, but he didn’t bolt.
“That’s a good boy,” Tehl murmured, stroking Wraith’s silky neck. He took Sage from Zachael, who adjusted the cloak once more.
Just then, Sam stormed into the grove, carrying a now-unconscious Jasmine. Despite the anger and frustration on his face, he held Jasmine with the utmost care and deposited her gently into the weapon master’s arms before mounting. Once he’d secured himself, he reclaimed Jasmine from Zachael. Settling her in his arms, he nudged his mount toward Tehl.
“Ride on!” Tehl shouted, nudging Wraith into a canter. The wind bit at his skin, blowing right through his damp clothing. He ought to have changed himself, or at least donned a dry cloak, but his mind had been on other things. He tightened his grip on Sage and ignored the chill.
The ride was miserable, as one emotion after another washed over him. Joy that Sage was alive. Anger at the state she was in. Fear that she might still not survive. It was miserable to be in his head.
Once or twice, he caught sight of flashes of black. He’d no idea how fast or far a man-eater could run. He doubted she could match the stamina of a horse, but then, he’d never had to find out before. He swallowed hard and prayed the creature wouldn’t cause them any trouble.
When at last the tan peaks of his camp came into view, the anxiety inside Tehl loosened. The three-hour ride had seemed to drag on. Sage had survived the ride; she’d survive the healing.
A cry pierced the air at the approach of their party, and Tehl made out Hayjen as he stepped to the front of the awaiting group. Tehl nodded, meeting the man’s anxious gaze, and slowed Wraith to a stop as Sage’s uncle halted at their side and held out his arms.
“I have her,” Tehl said, swinging his leg over the horse and sliding down. As soon as his boots touched the ground, he was moving, Sage’s weight surprisingly light in his arms. There wasn’t any time to lose.
“Lilja stoked the fire in your tent and had men bring water. It’s heating now.”
“Thank you.”
“How is she?”
Tehl eyed Hayjen. “Not good. But she’s alive.”
A nod, as if he had already expected the news. “Rafe found Blaise. She’s in rough shape herself.”
“Then we have all three women.”
“All worse for the wear.” A pause. “He will pay.”
The fury Tehl had been burying suddenly flared to life again. “That he will.”
Hayjen moved ahead of him and held open the tent flap. A wave of hot air slammed into him as he stepped into the dim tent. Sweat beaded on his forehead and on the back of his neck. “I’ve got her, Lilja.”
A small cry of alarm escaped from the usually-composed Sirenidae as she rushed toward them, her own skin covered in a sheen of sweat. “Sage?”
“She’s alive, but her core is dangerously cold.”
Lilja’s expression hardened. “Lay her on the center cot.” Her gaze flicked behind him. “Make sure to keep the tent flaps closed. We can’t afford to lose the heat.”
Tehl squeezed around cots piled with furs and blankets and did what he was told. It was hard letting go of Sage. His hands opened and closed as Lilja bustled around him, barking orders at Hayjen. He gazed down at Sage’s pale face and knelt by her side.
“What can I do?” he asked.
“Grab that rock heating by the fire. Wrap it in a horse blanket so you don’t burn yourself or Sage, and place it underneath her feet. If we don’t get her toes and fingers heated up, she’ll be in worse trouble.”
&n
bsp; Tehl moved to the fireplace, his breath coming in heavy pants. The air was stifling. He’d just plucked a stone from the fire when the sound of loud cries and startled shouting rent through the air.
“What the bloody hell is that?” Hayjen demanded, drawing his sword.
But there was only one thing that would make Tehl’s men react like that.
“Prepare yourself, and don’t make any sudden movements,” Tehl said.
A shadow burst through the tent flap and skidded to a stop, hackles raised.
“Stars above,” Lilja breathed, freezing, her hand pressed against Sage’s chest.
The leren hissed and slunk toward Sage, her movements liquid. The beast leapt onto one of the tables, eyeing Lilja. Ever so slowly, Lilja removed her fingers from Sage and held out her hand, palm up.
“I mean you no harm, nor your mistress. She is my kin, and I offer you my friendship as well.”
Tehl watched the exchange with wide eyes as the feline dropped from the table and silently padded toward Lilja.
“Love, that’s a very large man-eater,” Hayjen said softly, his tone holding a warning.
“She’s just protecting her bonded. She won’t hurt me, will you, darling?” she cooed.
Tehl sucked in a breath as the beast sniffed the Sirenidae’s hand, bumping it with her nose.
Lilja smiled and brushed a hand along the feline’s velvet head. “Hello to you, too.” She turned from the beast and began to resume her work as the beast nudged Sage’s face, giving her a gentle lick. Tehl gaped.
