King of the Unblessed

by Michelle M. Pillow

  “I was so worried,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  Juliana didn’t have time to think before he pulled her to his chest. His lips crushed down on hers, instantly smothering her with a hard kiss. She gasped in surprise and he took entrance, moving his tongue along hers. He rocked into her, pulling her body tighter against his.

  Juliana felt the press of his hard arousal against her stomach. She was too shocked to do anything but let him kiss her. It wasn’t unpleasant and, as his lips softened their claim, a warmth stirred inside her. She inched her hands up his shoulders, resting them on his neck.

  Nicholas pulled back to look at her. There was so much desire in his gaze that Juliana shivered in the wake of it. Merrick’s body taught her what could come of touching, but this was Nicholas. She’d never seen such passion in his eyes. What had happened to the moody boy she’d carried in her head? For a long moment she didn’t move, confused, torn. Part of her wanted to kiss him again, to see if what he felt for her could be returned. His warm taste was on her mouth, his hands on her arms, holding her close even as they gripped her. Another part of her wanted to pull away, shamed that she should kiss him after sinning with Merrick, worried that he would taste Merrick’s lips on her and know what she had done. Just as she tried to pull away, her hands slipping down to his chest to push out of his embrace, he kissed her again.

  Juliana moaned in surprise. This kiss was gentle, probing, tempting. He nipped at her with his teeth, pressing her back into a tree. She touched his face, moving her mouth to his. A piece of bark stabbed her back, jolting her once more to reality. She tore her mouth from his, gasping. “Nay, Nicholas, we cannot.”

  He instantly pulled away. His hands left her and his face became a blank mask. When he spoke, it was as if the kiss had never happened, only her mouth was still warm from it. “Do not blame yourself. I, too, prayed for there to be no wedding.”

  Juliana frowned at his words. She was so confused, couldn’t think. Nicholas had just kissed her and she’d let him. There had been so much need in him that she couldn’t resist. But what of Merrick? She’d kissed him as well, wanted him so desperately her entire body begged him to take her. He had, too.

  With Merrick it was a rush of emotion. With Nicholas it was a gentler feeling, an old friendship, a connection to the familiar. What was happening to her? Surely what she felt for Merrick was just a spell he wove around her, a dark temptation to confuse her. Maybe all it had been was a kiss. Maybe the rest hadn’t happened. It was a fool’s dream, but she clung to it nonetheless. With Merrick, how could she ever be sure what was real?

  And Nicholas? She shook her head. It made no sense why she would kiss Nicholas. He was a friend, just a friend. She’d known him forever. He didn’t feel for her beyond that friendship, did he? No, Nicholas was just confused, lost after his father’s death. Then why was her body stirring for him? Why was her mind considering him?

  “It’s because of you that I begged for there not to be a wedding.” Nicholas reached for her and she stepped away. He dropped his hand. “It’s because I didn’t want you to wed my father. I lo—”

  “Nay,” Juliana said to stop him. There were so many reasons why she should consider him over Merrick—their families, their homes, the fact that they were both mortals. “Don’t Nicholas. You’re grieving. Words like that cannot be taken back. They change everything.”

  “I want everything to be changed. You look so surprised. Has my heart truly been hidden so well from you? Have you been so blind as to how I feel?”

  “You never said,” she began, shaking. She didn’t deserve him, not after what she’d done. “Nicholas, we…we grew up together. I look upon you as a brother.”

  “Don’t you think you have enough brothers, Juliana? I’m not your brother. You have never looked on me as a brother. You respected them. Me, you taunted. You called me Sir Humphrey the Foul. Oh, how those words stung. But I dared to hope that if I played ignorant, you would come to see me for me. I waited and said nothing. I will not be silent any longer. I must tell you how I feel.”

  “Nicholas, we were children. It was so long ago. I’m sorry if we hurt your feelings. Truly, we did care for you as our friend.”

  “We are children no longer.” He took a step toward her, reaching for her face. Cupping her cheek in his palm, he said, “You felt it, too. I know you’re scared, but you don’t have to be. You kissed me back. You felt it.”

  “Nicholas,” she whispered. She couldn’t do this, not now. She needed time to think. Panic struck her as he spoke.

  “Juliana, I stand before you a man. I—”

  The sound of footsteps stopped his words, much to her relief. He pulled his hand from her and stepped away. Juliana was stunned, thankful for being interrupted. She quickly swiped her eyes before turning to look at Hugh. He glanced at Nicholas and then back to her. Lifting his hand, he gestured her to his side.

  “Juliana?” Hugh asked.

  Juliana mustered a weak smile before turning her eyes down. She rubbed her arms as a chill swept over her skin. In a few short days, her world had been torn apart. Nothing made sense in it.

  “Come,” Hugh said. “It’s late. We should rest for—”

  Hugh stopped talking. Juliana looked up at him. The temperature dropped drastically, cold and bitter. Her breath puffed white as she saw her brother. Hugh was frozen solid. Horrified, she glanced at Nicholas. He was staring at her, his face forlorn. He too was as still as carved marble.

  “Merrick?” she whispered, glancing around the trees. Icicles hung from the limbs, reflecting moonlight until the small alcove sparkled with the blue diamonds of frost. “Are you doing this?”

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Merrick said, walking from the forest. The ground crunched under his feet. Life seemed to drain around him as he moved—leaves withered, blossoms hid. Standing by Hugh, he placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. Her brother didn’t change. “Juliana, what is this I find?”

  “They came after me,” she said quickly. “I didn’t tell them.”

  “You didn’t tell them of our little bargain? After I warned you I wouldn’t be pleased?” Merrick asked, arching an eyebrow. She shivered and again lied as she shook her head in denial. His eyes looked darker than usual—blacker. He was livid. How could she even compare this dark creature to sweet Nicholas? She did her best to meet his steady gaze. “I can tell when you lie to me. I don’t like it.”

  “Nay, I didn—”

  Merrick lifted a finger to Hugh’s temple. Lightly drawing his finger over her brother’s cheek, he studied Hugh’s features. “I can learn what he knows easily enough. If you won’t tell me, I’ll get it from him.”

  Juliana didn’t move.

  “Very well.” Merrick drew his finger between Hugh’s eyes. The earl’s features instantly grayed. His tone flat, the king recited, “King Merrick? I’m such a fool. There he was, right before me. All I had to do was ask him to free the children and this would have been over. I don’t think it’s that simple. He said you needed to go to Valdis. I’m assuming he wants you to journey to his palace and ask there. Ay—”

  “Stop it!” Juliana cried, easily recalling her conversation with her brothers. She ran forward, striking out. Merrick caught her hand in his fist, squeezing. She whimpered and her knees weakened at the pain. He pulled his finger from Hugh, but the earl’s face remained gray. Taking her along with him, hauling her by her fist, Merrick went to stand before Nicholas. “Merrick, please!”

  “And him, Juliana. What did you say to him?” Merrick held up his hand. Juliana’s jeweled dagger appeared in his palm. He squeezed her fist tight as he drew the blade to Nicholas’ throat. He let the blade’s pointed tip dance over the man’s neck.

  “Nothing,” she whispered. It was so cold, she couldn’t stop shaking. Her feet were going numb from it. Merrick was unaffected. His eyes burned with rage. It poured off of him. She cringed in horror.

  Merrick drew the blade down to Nicholas’ chest, right above his heart. It w
ould be nothing for the Unblessed King to plunge the blade in—her blade. He angled the knife. All it would take was a single push and Nicholas would be dead. Juliana weakly shook her head in denial, willing him to stop. “I warned you about lying to me, Juliana.”

  She couldn’t meet Merrick’s eyes. He was her tormenter, a murderer and still she felt guilty for kissing Nicholas, as if that was what made her a whore. “I just told him I was sorry for his father’s death.”

  “Is that all?” Merrick twisted the blade tip back and forth, digging it into Nicholas’ frozen tunic.

  “More or less.” She made a move to take the knife. Merrick held her away with her fist in his. A chill crept down her arm and she watched as her fingers began to freeze within his palm. Her flesh turned blue, so numb she could no longer feel them.

  “And what did he say to you?” The knife disappeared and Juliana felt its weight back in her boot. She sighed with relief, but the feeling did not last long. Merrick’s blade hand instead gripped her by the throat, dangerously holding her. He brushed his thumb over her pulse, but did not squeeze.

  “Nothing of importance,” she whispered.

  “Nothing,” he repeated, his brows rising, “of importance?”

  “Nay,” she said.

  “He didn’t say he loved you?” Merrick’s tone mocked the words. “He didn’t ask you to be his wife? Didn’t promise to wed you in his father’s place?”

  “Nay, he said none of those things.” Juliana tried to pull her hand free. Her fingers stung, throbbing where his hold cut off her circulation. “Ah-hah, I swear, Merrick. He didn’t. He said none of those things.”

  “Tell me, Juliana, did you tell him about us?” Merrick stroked up to her cheek, reminding her body just how familiar he was with it. Even now, she wanted him. She couldn’t answer. “He has nothing to do with us. Does he, Juliana? He’s not important to us, is he?”

  “Nay.” She sniffed. Her fist warmed as the ice crept back up her arm. Feeling returned to her hand, a deep ache where he gripped into her.

  “He’s nothing to us, is he, Juliana?”

  “I said nay. Nay, he’s nothing. He’s not important.”

  “Then I could kill him, right here and now.” Merrick’s thumb pressed over her bottom lip, pulling it down to part her lips to him.

  Tears streamed over her cheeks. She damned herself for her attraction to Merrick. He was cruel, evil, and still she wanted him.

  “You cry for him?” he spat, squeezing her fist so tight she expected the bones in her hand to break.

  “Nay, aye, nay, please Merrick.” Juliana shook his hold from her face.

  “Please?” Merrick frowned. “You beg for him?”

  “He is my friend. Only my friend. A brother. Nothing more. Please, you’re misunderstanding.”

  “I will hold you to that statement, my lady.” Merrick jerked her into his arms. His eyes flashed with warning as he leaned into her face. His nose brushed alongside hers. “For if you ever kiss another man again, I will not only kill that man, I’ll kill you and every child set in my path for all eternity. Your life is mine. You are mine.”

  “You already killed Eadward.” Juliana didn’t know why the words slipped out. She leaned back to look at him. She hated him, desired him, feared him. “Why? You didn’t have to kill him. Eadward was a good man. He—”

  “Lord Eadward, your betrothed?” Merrick’s eyes darkened by degrees. She wouldn’t have thought it possible. The black centers drew to the sides, blocking out more of the white. “You dare to talk to me about him? You dare to mention another man’s name to me now? At this moment?”

  “Aye. I know you killed him. How could you? Eadward was innocent in all this.”

  Merrick laughed, a dark, wicked sound. Taking her chin, he forced her to look at Nicholas. “And what of this man, Sir Nicholas? Is he a killer, Juliana? Is he a bold knight? Does he love you enough to kill for you? Would he rearrange the very heavens for you? Is he the man you want to give you an adventure?”

  “Nay, he’s…he’s only my friend.”

  “I hold you to that still, my lady,” Merrick said, whipping her face back. “You are mine.”

  “—tomorrow we ride early,” Hugh finished. Juliana blinked, stumbling forward. Merrick was gone. Hugh moaned and grabbed his head. “Juli…? How did you get over there?”

  Juliana didn’t answer. She glanced at Nicholas. He slapped his neck, absently scratching at a thin trail of blood that appeared beneath his ear. His eyes met hers, softening some in question. He made a move as if to touch her. She pulled away from him, shaking her head as she went to Hugh. Hugh’s color had returned, but his eyes were red.

  “Juliana, you look pale,” Hugh said.

  “It’s nothing,” she managed. “I just need to rest. I’m so tired.”

  Hugh nodded and placed his arm about her shoulders. Giving her a brief hug, he walked her back toward the fire. “Aye, methinks I need rest as well. My head is suddenly pounding like it’s been trampled by horses.”

  Chapter Seven

  The morning sun shone over the long valley as Juliana, her brothers and Nicholas rode out of the forest. Juliana was behind Thomas on his horse, watching the endless lines of trees pass by them. They’d traveled most of the late morning in silence. Guilt weighed her thoughts, keeping her from speaking.

  Hugh slowed his mount, joining their side as they journeyed down into a valley. Nicholas came up from behind. Both men turned to study her. Thomas leaned slightly to glance over his shoulder.

  “What?” she whispered, refusing to look at Nicholas. All three men turned instantly away, not answering.

  Nicholas’ eyes had lingered on her most of the morning. Juliana felt them boring into her. He wanted answers, but she had no answer to give him. She was sorry for it. Even if she had an answer for him, she couldn’t tell him or encourage him in his pursuit. It was odd to think he loved her, for surely that is what he’d been about to say. She didn’t know how she’d missed it before. His love was in his eyes. He was sick with it and it was all her fault. Or maybe now he just let her see it.

  But when she thought of herself, her heart, she thought of Merrick. Would she love Nicholas if there was no Merrick? Did she even love Merrick? Her mind told her she couldn’t. Maybe it wasn’t love at all. Maybe she only wanted to call it love to justify what she’d done. The Unblessed King was a liar, a trickster, a murderer, a kidnapper. He tormented her and yet she was drawn to him. When he was gone—like now—she thought of him. His dark eyes, though deadly, haunted her. She wanted to touch him, wanted to kiss him. She just wanted him. And because she wanted him, she hated herself.

  Hugh and Thomas would never understand. Nicholas would never forgive her. How could she love her intended’s murderer? She was alone in this. Her attraction was her burden and she would bear it in silence, even as she prayed to be free from its spell. Too bad William wasn’t with them. His advice on the matter would have been welcomed.

  Juliana studied Nicholas from the corner of her eye. He was handsome. His short brown hair was only slightly tousled from travel. He was of moderate build, much like Thomas in form, but with a quieter disposition. His gray eyes were an odd color, though they were attractive.

  Nicholas had hardly spoken as a child, but he’d followed them around endlessly. They’d thought him to be in a foul mood because he never smiled and only opened his mouth to scold her for her “imagination”. She blinked, looking him over as she forced herself to think of him as a man, not the brooding child he’d been.

  Nicholas carried himself nobly. His body was fine, muscled. When he did smile, a dimple formed in his cheek. He had a good, proud face. Though he wasn’t nobility, he’d inherit property from his father and would undoubtedly come into a title someday. She’d heard tales of how he’d survived in battle when so many around him had fallen. He’d make any woman a fine choice in husband. She’d been a fool not to see the quality in him before now.

  Hugh and Thomas would undo
ubtedly be pleased if she chose him. Bellemare would have their alliance. Nicholas would treat her well, just as his father would have. Juliana closed her eyes. She couldn’t think of Eadward now. Not now.

  Juliana took a deep breath. The day was warm, the breeze fresh. Clouds dotted the heavens, silhouetted by the glimmering rays of sunlight. She smelled the perfume of flowers, the fragrance of nature. Birds sang nearby. Their songs filled the air with beautiful music.

  “It’s gorgeous here,” Juliana said, sighing wistfully.

  “Aye, it is,” Nicholas answered. Juliana glanced at him. He stared right at her. She looked away, swallowing nervously.

  Before she could speak, Thomas asked, “Is that snow? I swear this land is strange in its seasons.”

  Juliana looked up. Little rays of light fell from the sky—tiny silver and white sparks. They drifted like the burning ash from a bonfire, though the weather did not change. Soon fifty sparks turned into a hundred, a hundred turned into two hundred, until the sky was filled with specks of light. A spot fell on her arm, tingling the flesh but not painfully so.

  “Look,” Hugh said, pointing before them. Down in the valley the light hit upon an invisible fortress, outlining a silver palace. The sparkling light clung to the edges of a tower, a gate, the arched windows. “What is it?”

  “Is it real?” Juliana grabbed Thomas’ arm for support and swung down off the horse. Her legs wobbled as she found her footing. She stepped toward the palace, walking up a silver-lined path that led to the entrance.

  “Juliana, wait!” Nicholas dismounted from his horse and joined her. He touched her elbow.

  “Can you hear it?” she asked, pulling away from Nicholas. Closing her eyes, she heard singing and began to hum along.

  “Juliana?” Hugh asked.

  “Juliana,” Thomas stated, louder than his brother.

  “Follow her,” Hugh ordered as Juliana walked down the path toward the castle. “Whoever lives here must be inviting us in.”