Cloaked: Easthaven Crest, Book One

by Justice, A. D.

  “I don’t want your feet to hurt after dancing all night with Saban. You can thank me tomorrow morning.”

  “I’ll thank you right now—I appreciate how you’re looking out for me. These shoes are so cute. The color matches my dress impeccably, and the jewels match the ones on my bodice. They’re perfect.”

  Now that Addilyn is finished decorating me with more jewelry than I could ever imagine, the hummingbird-sized butterflies in my stomach take flight, and my nerves kick into overdrive. I’ve never left Montana before, much less attended a royal event. As the date of the brother of the bride.

  Too much has happened too soon. I’m not entirely convinced I’m not dreaming all of this after falling out of a tree and hitting my head. But no matter what’s actually happening to me, the more information I gain, the faster I can help Nana. Keeping my thoughts focused on her and my end goal is the only way I can make it through tonight.

  “When you’re rubbing elbows with everyone who’s anyone in this kingdom, just remember you wouldn’t be there if Saban didn’t think you belonged. You may run into other mages. They probably won’t admit it, but they’re every bit as interested in being his mate as those women who were riding with him today are. Shield your mind from them so they can’t read your thoughts.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “Rub your index and middle finger across your forehead and say ‘mentis celare’ to yourself. That will hide your thoughts from anyone trying to read them.”

  I do as she instructs then immediately feel the walls inside my mind rise in place. “Wow. That was different. I’ve never felt anything like that before. I mean, I had to learn to control the flow of other people’s thoughts so listening to them wouldn’t make me crazy, but this is not the same at all.”

  “We have a lot of work to do.” Addilyn shakes her head at me with a smile on her face. “For now, go have fun with your hot date.”

  I’m so nervous as I walk down the corridor toward the ballroom, I can’t even feel my feet. It’s as if I’m floating on air. When I reach the end of the hall, I step onto the open landing overlooking the entryway below.

  There, at the bottom of the palatial staircase, is Saban.

  Our eyes meet, and his thoughts flow freely to me…and all the background noise fades to silence.

  Chapter 6

  The blush creeps up my chest to my neck, finally filling my face as I make my way down the stairs. The long purple train of my dress follows behind me, making me feel like a princess descending the keep toward her prince. Saban’s thoughts filter through mine, forcefully taking front and center in my mind. The feelings attached are equally as strong, hitting me like waves crashing onto the shore.

  “I can’t believe how beautiful you are…and you’ll be on my arm all night.”

  “Every unattached man, along with a few already taken, will try their best to take you away from me. I’ll do whatever it takes to stop that from happening.”

  “Where have you been all my life? Why haven’t we met before now? Now I know exactly why no one else could hold my attention.”

  The initial possessive thoughts morph into more carnal ideas.

  His hand wrapped around mine.

  Our lips pressed together.

  His tongue tracing the lines of my neck and along my exposed collarbone.

  I reach the bottom of the steps before his mind has time to wander any further, though I know where he was headed next. I can feel my temperature rising inside me the same as the heat inside Saban. His desire to claim me as his mate is palpable—literally, in my case. Though I’m not familiar with all the details of claiming a mate in this world, I can tell it’s a significant milestone and a decision that’s not made lightly.

  Despite how warm and fuzzy his intense emotions make me feel, I’m not ready to be claimed or mated to anyone. Especially someone I don’t know and in a world that’s not my own.

  He extends his elbow toward me, and I wrap my hand around it. I’m infinitely grateful for the flats I’m wearing since I can’t walk in heels to save my life, but the height difference between Saban and me is significant. I feel small and dainty next to him, something I’ve never experienced before now.

  “You look absolutely stunning, Sara. Every man here will be jealous of me tonight. I’ll have to be on my toes to stop anyone who tries to steal you from me.” He softly kisses the back of my hand.

  “Thank you, Saban. You look very handsome yourself.” He’s wearing a black tuxedo with tails, a white shirt, and a black bow tie. The entire ensemble obviously was tailor-made to fit his immense frame. We both already know every female within a fifty-mile radius is clamoring for his attention, so there’s no need to state the obvious.

  Most of the people we pass by watch us walk into the ballroom together with an amused expression on their faces. Their thoughts are all along similar lines. Saban has finally met his match. In this instance, I don’t think their definition of “meeting his match” is quite the same as mine. They’re referring to his mate as his match, the lifelong commitment philosophy I’m actively avoiding getting caught up in.

  On the one hand, it’s flattering to be thought of that way. On the other hand, I must respectfully decline. Thanks, but no thanks.

  A few single ladies throw the intentional eye daggers in my direction, but I’m not concerned with their opinions of me. Envy is a strange sensation to experience from someone else’s view. They’re jealous because they think I’ve taken him away from them, but they don’t even stop to consider I just met the guy a few hours ago. They’re envious because they want to be the one on his arm right now.

  Not a single one of the jealous crowd has attempted even to say hello to me, much less get to know me before deciding they hate me. They could at least dislike me based on something with merit rather than their own insecurities.

  Saban stops walking to chat with someone. Though his attention is elsewhere, he still manages to pull me closer to his side. I can’t help but smile as his own insecurities are bleeding through. He’s getting his fair share of eye daggers from the young men around us. One bold young man seizes the opportunity while Saban is engaged in a conversation he can’t easily excuse himself from.

  “Hello, there. I know I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you before. What’s your name?” He lifts my free hand and presses his lips to my knuckles, letting them linger there a second or two longer than usual decorum would dictate.

  “Hello, I’m Sara. And you are?” I extract my hand from his grasp without being too apparent of my intent. He gives me a sleazy used car salesman vibe, and his head is strangely devoid of feelings or images. Not like when Addilyn shielded hers from me, though. It’s as if he doesn’t have an internal monologue before his thoughts are voiced.

  Some people only joke that they have no brain-mouth filter. Apparently, it’s not just a joke, though.

  “My name is Valerian, but most people call me Vale. I’m one of Saban’s friends. Our mothers are lifelong friends. How did you and he meet?”

  “Sara accidentally crossed the line and was in Elen Sevin. I happened to ride up at just the right time to assist her.” Saban’s interjection into the conversation is noticeable but also welcome. The fewer times I have to explain how I crossed some invisible barrier, the better.

  “Oh, I bet Rycan appreciated that. We all know how much he loves humans, especially ones who dare to step foot in his kingdom. Don’t worry about it, Sara. We’ve all done the same at one time or another. Once when I was in the woods hunting, I tracked the deer across the border without realizing it. I had to give up my prize stag because Rycan demanded its head or mine for my mistake.” Vale chuckles at the mishap, but I see a glimpse of the scene in his mind. It was much more severe than he’s saying. He was much closer to losing his head than the deer was—until Saban interfered and negotiated on Vale’s behalf.

  Maybe Saban is a decent guy after all.

  “Saban helped me out of a challenging situation. He
kept Rycan from killing me on the spot. I’m very thankful we met when we did. Otherwise, my encounter with the elves would’ve turned out very differently.”

  The pride emanating from Saban is evident on his face and in his stature. He stands a little taller. His chest sticks out a little farther. The sexy smirk on his face is more pronounced. He really is a stunningly handsome man, so his reaction to my praise of him surprises me. If I were a betting person, I would’ve said he was accustomed to others extolling his deeds when I first met him. Now, I’m not so sure.

  I’ve watched the jocks at high school receive applause and compliments from their teammates and everyone else trying to be accepted into their inner circle. Those guys hold their heads high, keep their expressions schooled, and barely nod to acknowledge anyone has spoken to them.

  Instead of letting it roll off his back like most guys do, Saban is soaking it in and enjoying it openly.

  “Saban, didn’t I tell you to throw those ragged shoes away and have new ones made? And that tuxedo—it’s so old, moths have probably started eating it. When’s the last time you’ve had a haircut? I swear, you’d do anything to embarrass me beyond repair.”

  Saban cringes then stiffens beside me. Vale’s smile drops, and his eyes turn to mere slits as he tries to hold his intense anger inside him. My eyes swing between the two men before turning to locate the source of the angry female voice directed at Saban.

  When I find her, I’m instantly revolted. By her dress and demeanor, she was once a beautiful woman with a world of class and high stature in the community. But the years have not been kind, and the abundance of alcohol has not been a friend. She moves toward us, the drink in her hand sloshing over the sides from her unsteady gait. Even without reading her mind, I’d recognize the resentment in her eyes…and it’s aimed directly at Saban.

  For some reason, I need to know why that is. What did he do to her that was so terrible, she’d humiliate him in a room full of everyone he knows? I focus solely on her thoughts, and her mind becomes an open book to me, as if I’m flipping through the pages from picture to picture until I find the memory I need. This has never happened before, maybe because I’ve spent a lifetime trying to filter out the thoughts rather than letting them come to me. But this time, I’m seeking them.

  Those are more questions I’ll have to ask Addilyn later. For now, I have a limited amount of time to venture into her thoughts before she reaches us and I’m expected to interact with her. Almost like a fuzzy movie on a silver screen, her thoughts play in sequence in my mind’s eye.

  Saban and his father leave the castle together early one morning. They’re as close as brothers, this father and son pair. They’re laughing and playfully gouging at each other on their way to the stables. Their laughter echoes off the surrounding mountains, carrying down the glen from the castle and filling the morning air with love.

  Sagran approaches his usual horse and begins to walk it toward the tack room area when he notices a loose shoe. He lifts the horse’s foot and pulls off the shoe, pitching it to the side with a look of disappointment.

  “Ah, I’m sorry, son. Doesn’t look like I’ll get to ride with you today after all. Zeb threw a shoe, so I can’t ride him today. I’ll have to get our farrier to fix it later.” Sagran stands and wipes the dirt from his hands.

  “But we’ve planned this all week. We never get to spend time together anymore, just the two of us.” Saban drops his shoulders and turns to put the tack back in its place.

  “You’re right, son. I’ll ride one of the other horses. They need attention too. What about Zora? She needs more time under the saddle.”

  “You can try her. You may spend more time correcting her than actually riding her, though.” Saban chuckles, but he’s not overly concerned. He and his father are both skilled horsemen, so there’s not much they haven’t encountered before.

  “Today is as good a day as any to start her training. We’ll have fun, no matter what.”

  Saban’s smile brightens his face as he rushes to gather the tack once more and prepare his horse for the ride.

  “You two just be careful. I expect you both back in time for dinner tonight.” She steps up to Sagran, lifts up on her toes, and places a kiss on his lips. He returns the kiss and slides his arm around her waist.

  “Don’t you worry your pretty little head, Giselli. We’ll be back before you know it. You and Isla should go off for some girl time while we’re gone. Then the four of us can eat together tonight.”

  “I may take you up on that suggestion. Maybe a little shopping is in order. I have a feeling Isla and Gerard will be engaged sooner rather than later.”

  Sagran growls, but he has a content grin on his face. “Don’t talk about my little girl getting married anytime soon. I’m not ready for that day yet.”

  Giselli laughs and swats him away. “Ready or not, that day is coming, my love. Hurry back to me. I love you.”

  “I love you too. See you this evening.”

  “I love you too, Saban.” Giselli grins devilishly at Saban, who blushes noticeably. “No matter how old you are, you can still tell your mom you love her.”

  “Love you too, Mom,” he mumbles in reply. Giselli and Sagran have a good laugh at Saban’s embarrassment then he joins in, laughing at himself. “Happy now?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.”

  Sagran and Saban ride away on their steeds, smiles intact and waving to Giselli until they’re out of sight.

  The scene cuts to later in the evening, when Giselli stands outside the castle, awaiting her husband and son’s return. The sun begins to set, and a figure gallops at full speed up the hill toward the palace. Terror strikes her heart, fear gripping her throat with its cold, unfeeling fingers to prevent her from making a sound.

  Saban swings his leg over the back of the horse, jumps down, and runs toward the door, yelling for their servants to follow him. He tells one to get the doctor and where to meet them. Giselli grabs him on his way back, and he finally realizes she’s standing there. The dread and distress in his eyes reach out and grab her, making her knees buckle where she stands.

  “Zora spooked on the trail with Dad on her back. She reared up and fell over backward. They went over the side of a steep embankment. Mom, I don’t know if Dad will live. He’s hurt very badly. I had no choice but to leave him to get help.”

  “Mom”? This hateful woman is Saban’s mother?

  Sagran died before Saban had a chance to reach him. Giselli has blamed her son for her husband’s death since the day they went riding at Saban’s insistence. She can’t see past her own grief to realize her son has carried this unnecessary guilt for more than a year. She has criticized his every move, his every decision, his very being to the point he actively avoids being around her.

  But he’s trapped tonight. He’s here to celebrate his sister’s engagement. He looked forward to spending time with me. Then Giselli emerged from her wing already inebriated, incredibly cross, and prepared to pick a public fight, knowing Saban wouldn’t fight back and hurt her further.

  But she doesn’t know me.

  Chapter 7

  “Mother.” Saban keeps his face neutral to prevent agitating her further. “I’d like you to meet Sara. Sara, this is my mother, Giselli Strydor.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I lie like I’ve never lied before. It’s not a pleasure, but I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt.

  “You should get away from him while you still can. Before you end up dead, too.” She points at me with her index finger; the others remain wrapped around her glass.

  “Funny you should mention that. Saban saved my life today. I would’ve been dead had he not interfered on a stranger’s behalf when he was under no obligation to help. As I was just saying to Vale, I’m very thankful for Saban.” I smile sweetly, not giving away the underlying reason why I feel the need to defend her son when she won’t.

  Saban and Vale both look at me with astonished expressions. A quic
k glance into Saban’s thoughts tells me no one talks back to Giselli. She’s apparently become hateful and bitter since her husband’s death, feeling she’s had someone taken away from her far too soon. I can sympathize with her loss. I’ve lost my entire family, but her son still wants to be an active part of her life. She should be grateful to still have family members who love her.

  Giselli glances up at Saban, and I feel the ice around her heart melt ever so slightly.

  “You have every right to be proud of your son. He’s fearless, and he refused to stand aside even when an army of elves demanded it. You’ve done a wonderful job of teaching him to be an honorable man. Not that he won’t make mistakes. We all do, right? But in the short time I’ve known him, I’ve learned a lot about his character from his actions.”

  She quickly wipes away a tear before it drops on her cheek.

  “I noticed they just replenished the finger foods. Would you like to have a bite to eat with me? I don’t know about you, but I’m famished. We can leave the boys to finish trading their hunting stories while we get to know each other better.” I’m trying—for Saban’s sake, I’m really trying.

  “That sounds lovely. I would like that, Sara. Thank you.”

  Not that I think I can solve their family problems over a cucumber and cream cheese finger sandwich and hot tea, but even a little bit of improvement counts. Simply a starter conversation would be better than what I witnessed between mother and son just now. I will use everything I have at my disposal to gain the upper hand and keep it.

  As we walk toward the tables full of food, she loses her footing and stumbles. On instinct, I reach out to help steady her, and I’m pleasantly surprised when she lets me. I hook my arm around hers, so it appears we’re just walking and talking instead of her leaning on me to make it the short distance to the table. She pats my arm in appreciation and understanding of my actions, despite her inebriated state. We reach an empty table near the food display, and I deposit her in a chair.