Nya rubbed her forehead. “How awkward is this formal thing? Am I going to hate it?”
“Nah.” Xari grinned. “After kicking a Tova’s ass, wearing a dress and chatting with males will be a piece of cake.”
“I think I’d rather take on the Tova.”
“Sicko.” Xari chuckled.
Nya pulled the cloth away, pleased that the bleeding had stopped. “In case I didn’t say it already, thanks. I needed a few minutes of normal after this afternoon’s drama.”
“Anytime.” Xari stood. “I wish I could stay, but my team will panic if I’m not there to greet them.” She walked to the door. “Ny?” She hesitated. “About the nightmares. I’ve heard what you screamed. We’ve never talked about it, but those awful dreams ... they can’t be true. They just can’t.” Her voice grew thick, and she walked out the door.
Silence blanketed the room in peaceful quiet, and Nya eased against the back of the chair, grateful for a moment alone. Since she’d lost control in the arena, she’d been wound tighter than a drum. Alexandra’s threat and that nasty memory hadn’t helped. God. She didn’t know if she could take any more shit. Victor was right. She did need to decompress, but that usually meant Jax challenging her to some ridiculous contest in the woods. They’d scale a cliff or run up the mountain until she dropped. And then he’d sit beside her, chipping away at whatever set her off until she finally talked it through.
But here, she had no outlet. And then there was this damn dinner. No way she’d get out of it, not after missing the first one. Her thigh burned as she stood. Most people shied away from pain, but sometimes, like today, when she got lost in her own head, it was the only thing that kept her grounded.
Proving yet again what a freak she was.
Nya grabbed her robe and headed to the bathroom. The shower was a large affair with multiple heads and a marble bench. Sure, it was nice enough, but what she wouldn’t give for a good old-fashioned bath. One of her earlier memories was of an old clawfoot tub. She’d soak in the thing until her skin pruned. And then her mother would towel her off and brush her hair. That was before Ireland, though.
Hot water cascaded over her, and she slathered her body with a jasmine scented body scrub. A quick knock startled her as a husky French accent bled through the door. “Anya Thalestris. Quick, please. Finish showering, yes?”
Nya hung her head and turned off the faucet. She dried her body, placed a fresh bandage on her thigh, and put on her robe. Someone knocked again, and the tension she’d managed to wash away came back.
She flung open the door. “I take it you’re my team.”
Surprised at the sarcasm, the four strangers stared back at her.
“That would be correct.” The French female stepped forward. “I am Brigitte. Now come. We haven’t much time.” She nudged her toward a chair. Two females knelt at her hands and feet while Brigitte tackled her hair.
A male entered the room carrying a ceramic jar with her family’s crest embedded on the lid. As soon as he opened the top, fragrant wisps of something musky yet sweet floated through the air.
“I like that scent. What is it?” Nya’s head jerked to the side as Brigitte found a tangle.
He smiled as he handed the container to the female at Nya’s feet. “These were the oils Otrera wore the night she chose Ares for her mate. She loved Red Lotus, which honors true authenticity and purity of heart. And all Amazonians wore Jasmine, which is associated with fertility. This cleansing ceremony is designed to give females clarity. The oil is said to wash away the dirt of the past, cleansing the feet to help find the right path. Pummel stones make the palms sensitive to touch. The original Amazon’s believed the heart and hands were spiritually connected, and so they kept their palms free from calluses so they would remain sensitive to touch, which helped them to find the right Chosen.”
Nya looked at her scarred palm. Sometimes symbolism was a bitch, wasn’t it?
As the females pressed, prodded, combed and braided, she realized Jax was right. While she didn’t think she’d ever be comfortable with strangers touching her, she also didn’t have the urge to punch them in the throat either.
Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as she thought.
The females finally stood. “Your gowns are in the wardrobe. We’ll wait for you in the other room.”
Hair up in a way-too-complicated mass of jasmine flowers and clips, she stood alone in the small sitting area and opened the wardrobe door. The three gowns that hung to the floor were identical except the first was sapphire blue, the second white, and last dark forest green.
Nya took the sapphire dress from the hanger and slid it over her head. The Grecian design was simple. One thick band rested on her right shoulder. Her left shoulder remained bare, assuring the tattoo trailing under her collarbone and around an empty place on the top of her arm could be seen. The intricate design held every symbol in her lineage dating back thousands of years. After the Trials, Nya’s equal would ink his emblem in the blank space at the top of her arm, and she would then wind her mark around his chest and shoulder, leaving them with identical symbols. And when the claiming ceremony was over, they would go into this very bedchamber and place one more tattoo over each other’s heart—one of significance, honor, and devotion. It was the most sacred ceremony, seen only by two. The meaning of the symbol was never revealed to anyone other than their mate and rarely seen in public. Marking was an artform honed by time. Scythian vahna spent years in drawing and inking classes to prepare for their claiming night. It was said the act of marking your mate was more intimate than sex.
And didn’t that scare the shit out of her?
Panic ran through her in sharp, hot tendrils, and Nya tried to contain the pressure building within. After her stunt with Zander and then her freak out in the foyer, she couldn’t lose her shit again.
Distracted, she made her way out of the sitting chamber.
Brigitte gasped and clapped her hands together. “Parfait!”
‘Perfect’ wasn’t exactly how Nya felt, but she kept quiet. The male knelt before her, placing her feet in flat sandals with ribbons that crisscrossed up to her knee.
“It’s a bit unorthodox, but Dr. Nickius suggested you wear these.” Brigitte held up a pair of white opera gloves. Nya swallowed past the lump in her throat as the pressure in her chest eased. The cleansing ceremony had left her scar sensitive, red, and a little swollen. Jax must have known—the gloves protected her hand from curious eyes and a stranger’s touch.
The silk hugged her fingers and wrists but allowed her skin to breathe. As soon as the gloves were in place, one of the other females brought over a red box with her heritage mark painted on the top. She opened the lid; nestled between satin covered padding was a coiled upper arm cuff.
“It’s beautiful.” Nya ran her finger along silver and gold. A fierce dragon baring his teeth started at the top of the coil. Thousands of scales wound around the midsection, creating the body, and the cuff ended in a spiked tail. The intricate design shimmered in the light, giving the piece depth.
“The dragon is meant to protect your lineage through the Trials.” The female slipped on the arm cuff, sliding it past Nya’s glove until it rested under her tattoo. “Dr. Nickius commissioned the cuff, making sure your dragon’s eye was onyx, as black-eyed dragons were the fiercest in Dacian lore. This will remain on your arm until your mate replaces it with his mark.”
The team gathered their things and headed out the door.
Nya’s vision blurred, and she blinked away the tears. She was so confused. A few days ago, she was nothing more than Jax’s patient, and then he became one of her candidates. He said he wanted her—honestly, she hadn’t believed him. But as she stared at the glittering eyes of her dragon, a small voice whispered in the back of her mind. Maybe he meant what he said. Maybe he did see her as romni material.
A knock sounded at the door, and Nya shook away her thoughts.
Victor leaned against the wall, relaxed shrink expression
firmly in place. He had trimmed his beard and slicked back his hair. His dress blues fit him perfectly, his burgundy sash, the color distinguishing him as an elite in the Society, made him seem more intimidating, if that were possible.
“You clean up well,” Nya said as she locked her door.
“And you’re on time.” He stepped forward and slowly inhaled, taking in her scent. “That is heavenly.”
She took his arm, grateful for the silky gloves. “Thank you. Apparently, it’s of my ancestry.”
“Yes, but it also contains pheromone enhancers which bring out your natural scent as well.”
“They didn’t tell me that.” Nya’s voice became thin.
Victor kept their pace leisurely. “Attraction plays a major role in finding an equal. It is imperative you and your mate have sexual chemistry. Pheromone enhancers help the process along.”
Fantastic. Now males weren’t going to just look at her, maybe touch her. Now they were going to sniff her, too.
Was this day ever going to end?
Furious, Alexandra stormed into her private chambers and slammed the door. Would this day ever end? The footage of Nya taking down Zander played over and over in the media, commentators quick to point out her agility and speed. And then came the questions. Why was the Tovaris’ Suveran on the field? What had he said to the last of Otrera’s line to merit such a response?
The Chancellor had spent a good part of the day in a press conference, explaining that Zander’s behavior was nothing more than tradition, even though the word implied it had been done before. She would have been cornered had the video not picked up the leader shouting some nonsense about Nya being worthy of a Tova.
Idiot.
Amber liquid swirled as she grabbed the decanter and poured a tumbler full of whiskey. Being put under the microscope caused her to go off half-cocked, and now that Warriors knew Nya had been taken, Alexandra would be careful. God help her if they knew the circumstances surrounding the young warrior’s abduction. If she weren’t careful, Anya would end up looking like a victim—or worse, become a Martyr.
She tossed back the last of her whiskey before picking up her phone and making a call she had dreaded all day.
“Is everything all right?” As usual, Ike didn’t bother with a hello but got to the heart of the matter.
“Everything is fine, my friend. I’m calling with an update. Dr. Nickius refused the suggestion to step down, rather adamantly I might add. However, he will be on a plane tonight.”
“Good. And Pumpkin?”
“Nya released two of her official candidates and went to the arena to watch the others spar.”
“Has she met Lucian yet?”
“I’m not sure.”
Silence.
“I thought we agreed that you would encourage her toward Savva. He’s a good male and has Gia’s full approval.” Ike’s deep voice rumbled.
“Yes, but the consulate is swarming with media coverage. The last thing I need is someone implying that we manipulated the process. Anya is my goddaughter, and Lucian was under your command for the past five years. Someone is bound to notice.”
“True.” He grunted. “Is there anything else I need to know?”
Alexandra swallowed. “I would steer clear of the news for the next few days.”
“It’s been more than twenty years. When are they going to stop dredging up our Trial?” Ike quietly cursed. “I’ll keep Gia away from the internet.”
“I’m diverting the media’s attention to the other candidates. I’m hoping it helps.”
“Good. Keep me posted. And Alex? Thanks.”
The Chancellor hung up the phone and sunk into a chair. She hadn’t lied ... technically. But the last thing she needed was Ike and Gia barreling in, demanding to know what Zander said to make Anya lose control.
She couldn’t afford another public spectacle like the ones they had today. No. She’d have to find a way to smooth things over, and then she’d make sure her goddaughter stayed out of the limelight.
Even if that meant Nya didn’t finish the Trials at all.
Chapter Nineteen
Jax kept a tight rein on his emotions as he stood on the other side of the foyer, waiting for his Vtachi to come down. Thank God Victor had agreed to give them a few minutes before dinner. Otherwise, Jax might not have a chance to explain why he was leaving.
His breath caught as Nya appeared at the top landing. She was a vision, her sapphire dress bringing out the sheen from her raven hair and emphasizing her blue eyes. And he loved that his dragon protected her mark. Most females wore a cuff that had been passed down from generation to generation, but when Victor discovered Gia never had one, Jax stepped in. He’d secretly spent months handcrafting the piece, making sure the Tova’s Dragon, with its onyx eyes, watched over his Vtachi. No one else knew the significance, of course. But he did, and one day Nya would as well. His eyes skipped from her shoulder to her face, and his stomach dropped at the defensiveness he saw there.
Well, he hoped she would. If she let him go, another warrior’s nata would wear Jax’s dragon.
That thought turned his stomach.
Victor and Nya descended the stairs and mingled with other champions and candidates waiting in front of the dining hall. A chime sounded overhead, she started toward the dining hall, but Victor nudged her across the foyer to the darkened ballroom.
“Where are we ...” her voice trailed away as Jax stepped from the shadows.
He stood stock still, letting her take in the medals that hung down his royal blue uniform and the black sash hanging from his shoulder, indicating his allegiance to the Tovaris. Her eyes widened as they met his, and he tried to reign in the intense desire to snatch her up and take her far away from this place.
“No more than ten minutes, and then we have to go.” Victor nodded to Jax and then closed the door, taking most of their light with him.
Nya tensed as Jax took her hand, leading her to one of the settees lining the wall.
“Isn’t everyone waiting for us?” Her voice caught, and she cleared her throat.
Until he knew she was all right and she understood about him leaving, everyone could damn well wait.
“Victor will hold them off. This afternoon was rough, and I wanted to make sure you’re all right. I’m glad you didn’t take to the woods.”
Nya half smiled. “I was tempted. Although, I think Victor might’ve been pissed if he had to chase me around.”
He’d be damned if another male tracked her. That was his responsibility.
He took a deep breath. There was so much to cover in such little time. “Vtachi, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Penn. I thought it would be best if you—”
“I don’t want to talk about this afternoon.”
His heart sunk. Shit. She’d already rebuilt that wall he’d worked so hard to take down. Needing to touch her in some way, he took her hand and brought it to his lap. “All right.”
Nya looked at his thumb circling her knuckles. “I guess I should thank you for the gloves. They help.”
His deep brown eyes warmed as he smiled. “I’m glad you like them.”
“And while I’m at it, thanks for the dragon, too. After my mother lost the American championship, my grandmother took it back and refused to speak to her.”
Jax’s brow rose. “I would have thought Ike claiming Gia should be enough to smooth things over.”
“Not on the heels of the scandal of the century.” Nya bitterly smiled. “Dear old grandma viewed it as the icing on the cake.”
“Ah.” Yet again one more selfish person in her life who valued their pride over his Vtachi.
She pulled her hand away. “I doubt you brought me here to talk about my family. Why are we hiding in the dark?”
He fell silent, scrambling to find the right words. How could he explain that he’d have to leave after he promised he’d stay?
“Is this about your Suveran?” She kept her eyes down, smoothing out a wrinkle on
her dress.
“Zander?” What the hell had he done now?
“You haven’t seen the news, have you?”
Jax’s eyes hardened though his voice remained calm. “I’ve been working on something for Alexandra. Why are you asking about a Tova?”
“I met him today, on the sparring field.” Nya’s thumb circled her gloved palm as she told him about losing her temper. Jax had a feeling she was doing her best to gloss over what really happened. Needless to say, when he got back from Russia, he was kicking Zander’s ass.
“So, the problem wasn’t that he pissed me off. It was how I reacted.” Her eyes, so vulnerable yet strong, found his. “I lost it, Jax. In front of everyone. And then I lost it again in the foyer.” She put her head in her hands. “God. I’m a freak.”
He sighed. “You’re not a freak. And you didn’t lose it. You reacted as any warrior would.”
“That’s what Xari said. Still doesn’t feel that way, though.”
Jax glanced at the clock and silently cursed. “Forget about Zander.” As much as he wanted to, they didn’t have time to ease into the subject. He took her hands again. “Before Victor comes back, I need to know how you feel about me being one of your candidates.”
She stayed quiet, eyes down.
“Come on, Vtachi. Talk to me.”
She must have felt his desperation, thank God, because she took a deep breath and held it. He’d taught her that technique as a way of gathering courage when she had something difficult to say. She kept her eyes on their hands as she slowly exhaled.
“All this time I thought you had that female in the valley—which made you safe. I could give you that screwed up part of me that I never planned on sharing with anyone. And then I’d go to the Trials and find a rovni. He’d claim my body, maybe we’d be friends, but that would be the only part I shared with him. My colleagues, they’d get a part, while my vahna would have another. As long as I was the only one with all my pieces, I’d be okay. I could survive that way.”
She looked up, struggling to meet his gaze.
“But then I saw you waiting with the others, and I wanted to run because I knew if you were my equal, my plan wouldn’t work. You wouldn’t settle for only a piece or two, you’d want all of me, and I’m not sure that’s something I have to give.”
The Scythian Trials Page 17