Trust In Love: A Love Mark Romance

by Linda Kage

  “Sable?” I rasped, stumbling toward her.

  She flinched at my approach, so I jarred to a halt.

  “Are you—?” Inquiring if she was well would be the highest insult ever—because she was obviously the most unwell as I’d ever seen her—so I broke the words off, swallowing thickly.

  How could anyone do this to such a bright, clever, sweet child?

  Her shoulders began to tremble as she watched me, and then she spoke. “You left me,” she accused, her voice small and hopeless. “You left me.”

  “I—no.” I shook my head insistently. “I tried to save you. I tried—”

  “You didn’t have to save me,” she cried, tears welling in her eyes. “There is no recovering from this miserable life. I just wanted you here. With me. It would’ve eased everything.”

  “Sable, I’m sorry. I—”

  “Oh, how pathetic,” the king cut in, making a face full of disgust. “The two of you truly did care for each other, didn’t you? And I had such high hopes of making a real man out of you, too, bastard.” He sighed. “Oh well.” With a snap of his fingers, he said, “Kill the girl.”

  “No!” I shouted, rushing toward Sable. “Don’t. NO!”

  But the guard who’d escorted her into the room was already swinging his battle axe. Diving forward, I plowed into him, tackling him to the floor. A second later, his weapon clattered next to us. Since he landed on the bottom, it took him a second longer than it did me to catch his breath.

  Which gave me plenty of time to pull up the sword I’d been carrying and skewer him through. He gasped out his shock, gaping up at me as he clutched the hilt sticking up from his belly, unable to pull it free.

  I couldn’t feel any remorse; the man had tried to kill my sister. I bared my teeth at him and snarled, “Burn in hell.”

  He choked out a few quick gurgles of surprise, then died with his eyes wide open. Frowning when I realized fresh blood had speckled his face, I squinted and eased closer.

  Well, that wasn’t right. I glanced down at his death wound, wondering how the hell his own blood had splattered up onto his cheeks like so. Because with that kind of trajectory, it shouldn’t have.

  Wha—?

  That’s when I noticed the axe that lay beside us. It too was covered with thick, inky red; the blade tip appeared to have been dipped in it.

  My lips parted. Whirling toward my sister, I found her on her knees not far away, her mouth gaping as if she were trying to speak—or breathe—with both her hands clutching the front of her throat.

  Between her fingers, blood welled.

  “No,” I croaked. “No, no, no, no.”

  Scrambling to her on hands and knees, I reached her side a moment later, gripping her shoulder with one hand and covering her fingers with the other to help stanch the flow.

  “Sable,” I whispered, looking into her fear-laced eyes. “I—breathe, sister. Just breathe.”

  This was my fault. I’d reached the guard in time to keep him from decapitating her fully, but he’d still managed to slice open her jugular. Now, her death wouldn’t be quick and painless but full of terror and agony.

  “I’m so sorry,” I sobbed, pressing my forehead to hers, tears spilling from my eyes. She pulled one hand from her throat, both our grips slippery and tainted, and she gripped the front of my shirt, hanging on to me. Just wanting me with her.

  “I’m here,” I promised.

  She mouthed the words thank you and a tear dribbled down her cheek. Then a final tremor went through her as she died in my arms.

  “No.” I squeezed my eyes closed and pressed my lips to her brow, desperately hoping...

  A kiss had saved Nicolette, and I loved Sable just as much as I did Nicolette. It should save her too. But my sister didn’t return. So I moved my mouth to hers, wondering if a resurrection kiss could only work that way.

  “Come on, brat,” I encouraged, kissing her again. “Don’t you dare fucking leave. It’s not your time. It’s not—”

  I wheezed out my misery as my chest seized. Watching her face, I waited a moment, because there’d been a short delay after I’d kissed Nicolette before she’d come back.

  But half a minute passed, and Sable remained dead.

  I couldn’t bring her back.

  Numb shock tore through my torso. I tried to breathe and reason through the fact that she was gone.

  A series of scenes from her short life passed through my memories.

  Sable always dogging my heels, asking the most direct and ridiculous questions, arguing with me about nearly everything, coming to me at night when she was scared. Sable, who’d trusted me to save her.

  And I’d betrayed her too.

  “No…”

  I hadn’t kept my word.

  Behind me, maniacal laughter rose from the other end of the hall, coming from the queen. Horrified that anyone could laugh over the death of my sister, especially that woman, I rotated my glare toward the dais across the room, where the king was straining up in his seat trying to see what was happening between me and Sable. Next to him, Kalendria clutched her child as she roared louder with amusement.

  “Was he trying to kiss her?” she asked incredulously. “What does the moron think that’ll do? Bring the little bitch back from the dead or something?”

  “Will you shut your gaping pie hole?” the king snapped with an irritated glare before he turned curiously back toward me. “Well?” he asked. “Is she dead yet?”

  My eyes narrowed and my lips peeled back to reveal clenched teeth. I’d already decided I was done with this man. But I’d never thought I was actually capable of murdering him until this very moment.

  “You just killed the wrong girl,” I snarled as I gently set Sable’s body on the stone, cold floor and began to rise.

  “Huh?” The king made a confused face and set a hand to his ear. “What did he say?”

  Next to him, Greggor folded his arms over his chest in a lazy manner. “You know, Tor. I do believe he looks mad enough to actually assassinate you right now.”

  And I’d make it hurt too.

  Reaching down to slowly pull free the sword I’d just plunged into Sable’s henchman, I glowered across the great hall at my king. “You’re next,” I promised him, pointing my blade at him.

  Eyes flaring with shock at my deadly expression, the king sank backward, deeper into the sanctuary of his throne. Then he made a swishing motion with his hand, speaking to someone behind me.

  “Well, what’re you waiting for? Kill him already! Don’t let the slimy bastard get near me.”

  At the order, I heard movement behind me, a knight swinging his sword to follow the king’s decree.

  Ducking, I spun and slashed out my own steel as hard as I could, catching my attacker diagonally across the front.

  He cried out, a line of blood soaking his tunic, and he stumbled backward away from me, which gave me the time I needed to surge forward and drive my blade deep into his heart.

  Pulling him close, I hissed, “Oops. You missed.”

  Once he was gone, I shoved him away and pulled the sword free so I could face the next three soldiers who rushed in.

  From that point on, pure unadulterated rage filled my veins. I knew I was as good as dead. There was no way I could take on a room full of the king’s finest knights. But by God, I was ready to take down as many of them as I could before they took me.

  Fury was a worthy companion I soon learned. It completely flattened all fetters of fear and doubt. There was no second-guessing or backing off. I met every attack, full force, only caring to deliver my vengeance. Nothing else mattered. Not living. Not dying. I just wanted to make the world bleed for what it had just done to Sable.

  My focus zeroed in on the battle, who I needed to face off with next and how fast I could get them out of my way. When I spotted Roloff fleeing the room and escaping, I snarled, wanting to hurt him and make him pay for his betrayal, too, but my father’s shouting in the background, ordering more men to k
ill me stole my attention. I stalked in his direction, steadily taking down anyone who got in my path along the way. Sometimes a blade caught me in the arm or leg, but I didn’t feel pain.

  I had become wrath.

  I was just about to the throne, when Greggor jumped in front of me, not even a weapon in his hand, ready to lay down his life to protect his best friend.

  As he wished.

  It was my great pleasure to behead him.

  When he slumped out of my way in two pieces, the king rose from his throne, his eyes wide with fear as he ogled Greggor’s corpse. “But you can’t—” he started, stunned horror clouding his features.

  I grabbed the front of his cape and jerked him close until we were practically nose to nose. “And I had such high hopes you’d become a father I could admire. But time after time again, you failed me.”

  His face darkened. “Why, you stupid, reckless whelp. You’ll pay for this. You—”

  “No,” I said, pressing the blade to his heart and pushing it deep, watching his eyes flare with pain and surprise. “I won’t. You pay this time.”

  His hand grappled for my sleeve as he died.

  I shook my head sadly. “You’re the biggest disappointment a son could ever have.”

  And just like that, I had killed my father.

  When I let go of his cape, he slumped to the floor by my feet.

  From her chair, Kalendria had stopped laughing and was now screaming with the child in her arms as she climbed onto her seat to stand. But I wasn’t some frightened mouse under her chair who’d startled her. I could still reach her up there.

  I turned to the queen, narrowing my eyes. But more guards rushed at me, intent to kill.

  Momentarily distracted, I turned from Kalendria to fend off a swinging sword. And then three more.

  The number of guards grew, all of them piling on me now, intent to end my life. I just kept fighting, somehow surviving through each encounter. When one swung at me with what would surely be a killing blow, I actually felt a smidgeon of peace.

  It was over.

  I wouldn’t have to suffer anymore.

  Except death refused to call my name.

  An explosion rent the air around us, instead. When a small bloody hole appeared in the soldier’s forehead before he could behead me, everyone froze, gaping at the phenomenon.

  “No,” I whispered, dread plopping heavily in my stomach, because I knew of only one thing that would cause such destruction.

  But she couldn’t be here.

  Whirling around, I found Nicolette poised in the doorway, her Colt still aiming at the man she’d killed. A stranger stood at her side, with her, and she’d never looked more glorious before.

  Which was exactly why fear suddenly coated my skin and ended my rage in an instant.

  “No, no, no, no,” I chanted, shaking my head.

  She wasn’t supposed to be here.

  She was supposed to be on her way back to Donnelly, safe and sound.

  This was not safe. Or sound.

  To prove me right, the soldiers suddenly turned their attention from me and advanced on her. Nicolette shot two more men in short order, while her companion took out one with a sword when he got too close.

  Growing intimidated by the power of her Colt, the advance of soldiers paused, none of them daring to take on such an unknown, effective killer.

  But then Kalendria screamed, “What are you waiting for, you idiots? Kill her! Kill them all.”

  And the fight was back on. The knights lifted their weapons and charged, most of them aiming for Nicolette.

  “No!” I shouted, joining the fray.

  No longer ready to die with my sister, I raised my sword and charged, needing to live so I could protect my mate.

  Wrath fled as my fear swelled. But I couldn’t watch Nicolette die today.

  Not her too.

  I went back to slashing and hacking and jabbing and chopping. I didn’t hear the report of her Colt again, which scared me more than anything. Had someone captured her? Was she hurt? Alive?

  I did hear the sound of steel clanging up ahead, though, which let me know someone on my side still fought.

  Still lived.

  That better include Nicolette.

  I worked my way in her direction, steadily fending off attacks by the droves.

  Adrenaline spiked and oxygen thundered through my lungs. I just needed to reach her. I had to get her out of here. I had to save her.

  Just when I thought I had enough of a break in the fighting to race her way, I dodged forward, only to pull up short when Kalendria appeared behind Nicolette, grabbing her around the neck and setting the sharp side of a dagger against her throat.

  “Drop the sword, Farrow,” Kalendria commanded.

  Not far away, her child wailed and flailed on the floor next to the corpse of a dead, bloodied knight.

  I lifted my hands but kept the blade firm in my grip.

  “I said drop it,” the queen screamed, making Nicolette flinch and a droplet of her blood trail from the knife’s blade at her throat.

  With a snarl of promised revenge, I loosened my grip, and my sword clattered to the ground as my gaze sought Nicolette’s pale face. She panted heavily and her expression was mottled with anger, but other than getting nicked by the queen’s dagger, she seemed otherwise unharmed.

  “You too, High Clifter,” Kalendria told Nicolette’s companion.

  I glanced at the other man, finally recognizing him as the bodyguard who’d been with Nicolette outside her castle the night I’d taken her.

  He reluctantly dropped his sword as well, searing a concerned wince to his princess before narrowing his eyes on the queen.

  “Now,” Kalendria said, drinking in a deep, relieved breath. “You must be the missing Princess Nicolette.” Her voice was conversational, but her expression was not, as she gritted her teeth and glared, keeping her blade held snug against Nicolette’s flesh.

  Nicolette elevated her chin regally high. “It seems I’m famous everywhere I go. But I must confess, I’ve no idea who you are, my lady.”

  I didn’t think that was entirely true. She would’ve seen the queen in my dreams, since we’d been sharing them for days now, and I knew Kalendria had been in and out of them, usually threatening me and trying to have me killed.

  But Nicolette’s lie seemed to irk Kalendria’s vanity quite successfully.

  “I am the queen of Far Shore,” she snarled, tugging on Nicolette’s hair and making her head snap back at an unnatural angle. “And you will refer to me as Your Majesty. And you…” Her gaze shifted to me. “Farrow, whore’s son of House Scott, you’re charged with high treason for the assassination of your king. So it is my great pleasure to condemn you to death. You are to be hanged in the castle courtyard tomorrow at noon so everyone in the kingdom can come and see the capture of the Bastard Betrayer and the execution of the monster who killed their ruler.”

  “Over my dead body,” Nicolette snarled, as two men grabbed me from behind and roughly manacled my wrists together with metal cuffs.

  “I would say that could be arranged.” Kalendria nudged her blade deeper into Nicolette’s throat, making her whimper. “But I have other plans for you, princess. Since your brother already knows you’re here, I might as well keep you around long enough to discover just how much he’s willing to pay to get you back.”

  She shoved Nicolette toward a guard. “Take these two down to the dungeon. Kill the High Clifter.”

  “No,” Nicolette gasped, immediately struggling against the guard holding her. “Indy!”

  Unable to let her watch her friend die, I blurted, “Or you could ransom him too.”

  Kalendria motioned a hand toward the executioner who’d already lifted a sword toward Nicolette’s bodyguard, bidding him to pause.

  Eyes curious, she asked, “Why? Who is he?”

  I sniffed. “What? Haven’t you heard of Indigo, Prince of High Cliff?”

  The High Clifter arched me a
surprised glance but didn’t dispute my lie.

  Kalendria, however, squinted suspiciously. “Prince?”

  I nodded. “Oh, aye. One of the younger, less important ones, to be sure. But still a worthy enough prize to ransom, I’d wager.”

  Taking my words to heart, the queen turned to Indigo with interest, eyeing him speculatively as she approached. “A High Cliff prince, hmm? How interesting. And a handsome prince at that. Maybe I’ll just marry you and force my own alliance with your kingdom.”

  Nicolette’s bodyguard sniffed degradingly and gave her such a mockingly conceited once-over that he might as well be royalty.

  “I’d rather die,” he answered.

  “Resistant, huh?” The queen smiled. “I like that. But I’m afraid it means you’ll have to reside with the other two in the dungeon until you change your mind.” And with that, she shooed us along. “Take all three down now.”

  So, they took us away, Nicolette’s captor prodding her ahead of me and Indigo.

  “This way, my lady,” he heckled. “We’ve a nice comfortable place for you to stay, full of rat bones and moldy decay.”

  His cackle grated on my nerves, making me wish the bastard had been one of the dozens that were dead and splayed on the floor around us, killed by my steel.

  Nicolette tripped forward through the bodies of the fallen soldiers as her captor brutishly nudged her along, only to come to Sable’s corpse. She jerked to a halt, gaping a moment before her gaze swung to me. Shock and disbelief marred her features as she realized I’d failed my mission.

  Sable hadn’t made it.

  And so, my world went dark.

  29

  Nicolette

  Rusted, dank metal screeched as a guard pulled open what appeared to be an iron, grate lid that covered a hole in the floor.

  “In you go, princess,” he said.