Ike’s fingers grazed his romni’s familiar curves. Her hair spilled across the pillow like spun honey, her beautiful scent, as always, intoxicated him.
“Gia,” he whispered, leaning in and nipping the ink he’d placed over her heart.
She tensed. “After today, what we found in the castle, I can’t. I need time.”
He met her gaze. “And I need you.”
She rolled away from him, tucking her hands under her pillow. “You’ve never needed me, except to create an offspring.” Her lifeless voice spilled into the darkness like poison in a stream. “And when Nya needed me, I didn’t protect her. I should have left you as soon as she was born. We could have gone anywhere, lived on the fringes of the Society, somewhere far away from Penn.”
Ike eased onto his back and looked at the water stain running along the ceiling. “We should have left together.”
“You wouldn’t have gone against Alexandra and the Society, and we both know it.”
“I would have for you.”
Gia stayed silent, and Ike leaned in and kissed her shoulder. “We’ve been up for over forty-eight hours straight. Get some rest. We’ll talk later.”
Weak afternoon light peeked through the worn curtains, its beam streaming across the floor. Ike watched dust motes float in and out while he listened to his romni’s breath ease into a slow, steady rhythm.
Honestly, he wouldn’t blame her if she left him. He’d missed too many opportunities to prove that she was the most important thing in his life. There were too many words he’d left unsaid, too many actions not taken. It took time to build an Intima bond, but he had done little to nurture their connection, and after a while, Gia stopped trying.
Ike put his arm around his romni, settling her back against his chest. She clutched her pillow tighter, a small crease appeared between her eyes, and his heart ached.
Even in sleep, she kept her distance. And now this. What they’d discovered at the castle had taken its toll. If anything else happened, it would destroy Gia.
And that was the only thing that would destroy him, too.
Chapter Seventeen
A horn sounded overhead, and all sparring stopped. Warriors milled out of the arena, some clapping Nya on the back with hearty congratulations for taking down a Tova.
Shit. Aren was right. This wouldn’t blow over.
“The three you defeated have been dismissed,” Victor said as he took her arm. They followed the others to a narrow path which lead to the consulate. “Now, tell me. How badly did you injure your leg?”
“I think I pulled a few staples, but it doesn’t hurt like it did before.”
Victor’s gaze swept over her. “Are you able to continue?”
“Do I have a choice?”
He ignored the comment. “Tonight’s dinner is a formal affair in which the champions will socialize with the uncommitted. Jax, Giovanni, and Killian will dine at the outer tables while you interview other males.”
“Swell.”
He stopped in the middle of the path, and a few warriors behind them grumbled as they passed by. “There is one other matter. Champions must have five official candidates at all times, although during the first round it is her right to change them as she sees fit. As you have let two of your original warriors go, we must choose two more before tonight’s affair. Are you interested in any that you’ve seen so far?”
“I like the Romano twins.”
“Tor’s been disqualified.”
Nya’s brows rose under her bangs. “What? How?”
“He was one of the males you took out when you tried to kill the leader of the Tovaris.” Victor nudged her, and they started forward again.
“I didn’t know he was their Suveran. And I wasn’t trying to kill him. I just lost control for a minute. I don’t remember Tor coming toward me.”
“That’s because your eyes never left your target, but you kicked Tor into the crowd, and so he’s no longer considered a viable candidate.”
Nya sighed. “Poor guy.”
That seemed to amuse Victor. “So, the other then? Luka?”
“All right. I’ll choose Luka.”
“Well, that’s settled.”
“Wait, what about the fifth?”
“I had assumed you would choose the Moor.”
Nya tensed. “I’m not sure ...”
“Yes, you are.” Victor’s voice deepened. “But your loyalty to Jax is clouding your decision.”
Nya’s face heated, and she kept her gaze pointed forward.
The narrow path wound through dense woods and thickets but eventually opened to a clearing just behind the consulate’s courtyard. Old gas torches lined the cobblestone trail that ran alongside the massive stone structure. As soon as they started down the side of the building, Xari came running from the trees.
“What took you so long?” She hugged Nya. “I’ve been waiting out here since you set that Tova on his ass. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it for myself.”
Nya groaned, pulling away from her friend. “How bad is it?”
“Let’s just say you kicking that male in the balls has been trending for hours.”
Nya scrubbed her face with her hand. “I lost my shit out there, Xar. I haven’t done that in two years.”
She shook her head. “Didn’t look that way to me. I saw a warrior being challenged. You did what any Scythian would do, only you did it better.”
“Really? I didn’t look like a raving lunatic?”
Xari rolled her eyes. “Hardly. You looked like a bad ass.”
They started forward again, and the sound of a restless crowd buzzed in the distance. Victor offered each female an arm, and side by side they faced the reporters that had gathered on the consulate steps.
“Anya! Can you tell us what prompted you to spar with the leader of the Tovaris?”
“Have you replaced the two candidates you’ve dismissed?”
“Toxaris, can you confirm the rumor that you have released a warrior also?”
Xari and Nya smiled, not saying a word while Victor calmly informed the media that neither champion would be answering questions at this time. He opened the door and Xari nudged Nya through.
For some reason, the media stayed at the consulate’s steps like scalded dogs.
“Is it true?” Nya asked as they milled through the warriors mingling in the foyer.
“What?”
“That you released one of your candidates.”
Xari shrugged. “He and I didn’t have much in common.”
They stopped by the palatial stairs, and Nya grasped her friend’s hand. “I’m sorry. I suck as a friend. I haven’t even asked how your Trials are going.”
“You don’t suck. You’ve just got a lot on your mind.” Xari nudged her shoulder. “I’ll see you later.”
She smiled at Victor and walked away.
A commotion at the top of the stairs had all eyes collectively looking up. Alexandra peered over the rail, her livid expression etched unforgiving lines along her nose and mouth. She searched the room until she found Nya. Hushed whispers followed her clipped stride as she made her way down the stairs. The warriors backed away, giving her space.
“Chancellor.” Victor’s calm voice eased Nya’s anxiety. “What a pleasant surprise. Your support in these Trials is commendable. I’m sure the Scythian world is eager to hear your take on the Trials this year.”
Alexandra stared at Victor, taking in his subtle warning. Warriors gathered around them, openly curious, and she smiled, though her eyes remained hard as stone.
“Yes, I must say the skills of our uncommitted are impressive. I’m sure all the champions are struggling to narrow their choices to just five males.” She tipped her head to the uncommitted now crowding around them. “You are a testament to the excellence of our kind. Please, don’t let me keep you from getting ready for the festivities.”
The warriors bowed en masse, and they started to disperse. Alexandra grabbed Nya b
y the upper arms, pulling her into an embrace. To the casual observer, the move looked like a godmother showing affection for her charge, but Alexandra’s grip bit into Nya’s arms, and her whisper was nothing but an angry hiss.
“You listen to me. Your little stunt today has raised a lot of questions. Tell me, what reason should I give the press when they ask why you attacked the Tovaris Suveran.” Alexandra’s fury bled through her tone as she tightened her grip. “I will not have another Thalestris creating a scandal. Be warned, Anya ...”
The pungent aroma of Turkish tobacco overwhelmed Nya’s senses, and pain lashed through her head as the Chancellor’s words fell away.
“That smell ...” She pushed the Chancellor away, stumbling back, blindly reaching to catch her balance. “I remember that smell ...”
“I beg your pardon? I don’t know ...”
Nya’s eyes became hollow, blank, as dark memories swept her away.
Snippets of Turkish conversations echoed, bouncing off of metal walls, and Nya lifted her head. Tobacco smoke curled, twisting as it climbed to the ceiling of a cargo hold. Every time she moved, cable laid rope chafed her wrists and ankles until they grew bloody. Thick bars caged her in a makeshift cell, her hands pinned overhead. Pain throbbed in her shoulders from hours of holding her weight. Rats skittered along the edge of the floor, their whiskers and fur tickling the tops of her feet. The heavy chink of a metal lock echoed, and a man stepped into her cage, followed by several others.
“Are you ready to discuss things like an adult?” Penn’s deep voice sliced through her heart.
Why? Why was she in a cell suspended against a wall? And why would Penn act like he enjoyed her pain? He was her friend.
“... Anya? Anya, are you all right?” Victor’s voice came from behind her, somewhere in the distance.
“Answer me, Ana. Are you ready to submit?”
A band tightened around her chest. Her breath became a rapid tattoo as she fought to distinguish between memory and reality.
Victor’s hands landed on Nya’s shoulders. He pressed his thumbs along the base of her neck to the point of pain and pulled her back against his chest. Whiskers brushed the top of her ear as he leaned in and whispered. “Focus, Anya. Concentrate on what’s in front of you and breathe.”
The ship melted away, and she found herself in a foyer with warriors crowded around her. Someone must have alerted her candidates because Jax, Killian, and Giovanni pushed their way through the crowd.
Jax stopped in front of her, blocking everyone else from her sight. He rocked back on his heels, his voice eerily calm. “Talk to me, Vtachi.”
Desperate and vulnerable, she focused on the only one who understood. “There were Turks on board ... they smoked ... I remember the smell ...”
He glanced at her thumb furiously rubbing over her scar. “What else do you remember?”
“It was that night ... on the docks. They drugged me when we stepped into the boat, and when I woke up, I was hanging by my wrists. Penn ... he was there.”
The room buzzed at the mention of Penn’s name, and Nya glanced around.
Oh, God. How many had seen her freak?
“How could a female warrior just days out of training already have experienced the darkest side of war?” Killian furiously turned on the Chancellor. “And Penn—is she speaking of Penn Sarkov, the Drahzdan Tsar? Why was she anywhere near him? As her future rovni, I demand an answer.”
“As do I,” Giovanni said.
“Wait ... Penn is the leader of the Drahzda?” Nya’s legs strained to hold her weight. “I don’t understand.”
Jax cursed as he stepped forward. “Vtachi, Dmitri Sarkov was Penn’s father.”
Nya’s complexion became pasty white. “But that’s impossible.”
Aren and Luka made their way through the crowd.
“What is this? Anya was taken by the Drahzda? When?” Aren’s black eyes glittered as they bore into the Chancellor.
Alexandra pulled herself to her full height. “Now is not the time.”
“I think it’s a perfect time,” Killian snarled. “Tell us, how is it possible that Nya, the last of Ares and Otrera’s line, knew Sarkov in the first place. And when was she taken? Either she worked for the Society before she went to the academy, which is ludicrous, or something happened while she was at school. Which is it?”
Bile rose in Nya’s throat as horrid images flashed in her mind.
“Answer me, Ana. Are you ready to submit?”
Victor’s thumb found the pressure point at the base of her neck again, and she sucked in a deep breath through her nose. Pain forced her mind to stay in the present. She trembled, pulling her spine straight until her head rested under his chin.
Warriors pressed in, their questions rose through the hall like a swarm of angry hornets, and the Chancellor held up her hand, waiting for complete silence.
“What happened to Anya Thalestris was tragic, but the information is classified. Let’s not lose focus on why you all are here. Concentrate on your Trials, Warriors. Rest assured, the Society is taking care of the situation.”
Warriors glared in silent accusation as the Chancellor ascended the stairs and disappeared from sight—and then all eyes turned to Nya.
Oh, God. This was her worst nightmare. Everyone knew. They’d seen her blank. They heard her say that she’d been captured and was defenseless. Mortified, she stared at the floor.
Jax, Killian, Giovanni, Aren, and Luka encircled her as Victor wove through the males, speaking to those he knew, and soon the warriors dispersed.
Blonde hair bobbed in and out of the thinning crowd as Xari hurried over. “You okay?”
“Not really.” Nya’s voice shook.
Victor stepped close and addressed Nya’s candidates. “If you will excuse us, my champion needs time to decompress.” He took her arm.
Nya’s feet stayed glued to the floor. “Not now.”
Victor’s brow rose. “Now.”
Nya hated admitting it in front of her candidates, but damn it, enough was enough. Between Zander setting her off and now this, she wanted for just one red-hot minute to be alone. Her voice lowered to a resentful, bitter tone. “It’s going to be hard enough facing everyone tonight. You screw with my head now, and I’ll lose it.”
Xari stepped forward. “She’s right. Come on, Ny. Let’s go to your room and see how much damage you’ve done to that thigh, and then I’ll help you get ready for dinner.” She didn’t wait for Victor’s reply. Instead, she linked her arm through Nya’s and whisked her away.
Chapter Eighteen
Xari chattered about her candidates all the way to Nya’s room, pointedly ignoring the warriors staring as they passed by. They turned down Nya’s corridor, which, thankfully, was empty.
“I take it you ripped a staple?” she said, noticing Nya’s slight limp.
“Hurts like a mother.” Nya groaned.
“Good news is this day is supposed to be over around midnight.”
“Smart ass.”
Xari slowed their pace. “Seriously, Ny. You all right?”
She stopped at her suite and focused on putting the key in the lock. “Other than a bruised ego, a torn thigh, and wondering if I’m losing my mind, I'm fine.”
The hinge creaked as the door swung open, and Nya cringed, hating the over-the-top décor of her room. Bolts of rich fabrics hung in soft arcs from the ceiling’s center, stemming to the corners of the chamber. Two-story windows ran along the back, a platform bed stood boldly in the middle of the space. A large flat screen hung along the dark-paneled wall opposite the windows. The place was an amalgam of old world royalty and modern-day technology.
They walked in and Xari closed the door behind them. Nya hobbled past the bed to a small seating area by the closet and lush bathroom. Sitting on one of the chairs, she gritted her teeth and pulled off her shoes.
Xari leaned against the threshold. “I’m not going to pretend that I understand what’s going on. But if you need
me, you know I’m here.”
Nya kept her gaze down, focusing on unbuttoning her pants. “You remember my nightmares?”
“They’re not easy to forget.”
She shifted her hips and eased her pants down her legs. “I’m beginning to think they really happened.”
Thunderstruck, Xari froze. “I hope you’re wrong.”
“I do, too.” Nya ripped the blood-stained bandage from her thigh. Flesh hung from one edge of the top staple, the other side dug a little deeper than the rest. She grabbed hold of the shard sticking up and pulled. Crimson trickled down her thigh as the staple ripped through skin. She fumbled for a washcloth and pressed down on the fresh wound.
Xari cringed and sat in the chair opposite her friend. “I’d put something over it before your lineage team gets here. If they’re anything like mine, they’ll probably faint at the sight of blood.”
“What the hell is a lineage team, anyway?”
Xari smirked. “They’re in charge of making sure your instincts are clear.”
“English, Xar.”
She sighed. “You’ll see. Luckily, we only have to deal with them this round. They’re supposed to help you clear a path so you can find your Chosen.”
Nya pulled the washcloth away. Blood welled, and she found a clean swatch of cloth and pressed in again. “Sounds like a blast.”
“It’s not that bad, actually. Tonight, we’ll be getting to know the uncommitted. From what I understand, each course will not only bring new food but new warriors, too. The good news is your guide is supposed to be taking notes, so you don’t get overwhelmed.”
“Too late.”
Xari grinned. “I know, right? Anyway, it gives the champions a chance to see if they want to choose someone other than their official candidates.”
The Scythian Trials Page 16