Fall of the Arch Lich (D'Vaire, Book 6)

by Jessamyn Kingley

  “I’m relieved to hear it. Has your separation agreement been shredded yet?”

  “No.”

  “I’m nosy so I am going to ask why not,” the Emperor countered.

  Alaric looked at Chander who stared at him for several seconds before giving him a small shrug. Turning to the Emperor, Alaric said, “We grow closer to that decision every day.” It wasn’t really anyone’s business when they legally reunited, and Alaric didn’t really care. Chander was back in his life and when it was right, they’d make it official. The reality was, in the short time since they had decided to do this, they’d jumped leaps and bounds toward a strong, loving relationship. It was a new foundation, but it was solid.

  “Good, you both deserve to be happy,” Chrysander replied.

  “It’s rather difficult to be happy when the Arch Lich can question the leadership of my mate,” Chander threw out.

  “You know the rules, Chand. I can’t refuse any petition.”

  “Change the rules then. Create a new process for anyone who decides they don’t think a leader is fit.”

  “He’s right, you know. Sigimund displaced him and now he wants to do it to us and Alaric,” Drystan said. “Sigimund has been emboldened by his ability to force Chand out and getting the necromancers to vote him in as Arch Lich. But the reality is, any leader could start crap like this.”

  “Here’s what I want,” Chrysander began, “I want both resurrected races to file a joint petition asking the Council to pass a law that any race resurrected by necromancers are separate and unique entities. Then no one can repeat this nonsense in the future. I’ll take Chand’s idea to the regulatory committee and see if we can’t hash out a new process to approach issues that arise with leaderships.”

  “Create separate ones for elected and Fate-chosen or Fate-born. The Council was created to protect our way of life which includes how we see Fate’s role in our lives,” Chander suggested.

  “Do you understand how much this Council needs you?” Damian asked.

  “When I return to the Council, it will be as Lich Sentinel-mate,” Chander replied.

  “You were meant to rule your own race,” Chrysander stated.

  “I have zero interest in ruling the Order of Necromancia.”

  “You can’t change his mind?” Chrysander asked Alaric.

  “No, and I believe it’s obvious to anyone why he feels as he does. His own people have shown little interest in seeing his title restored. I believe he did the right thing in resigning, even though the Council could surely benefit from his expertise and judgment. He’s gone underappreciated by the Order of Necromancia and is now being vilified in the same way the Sentinel Brotherhood has been.”

  “I know,” Chrysander said. “I received a letter today from the curator of the local necromancer museum. The man is distraught. Sigimund has ordered him and every other necro curator to remove all references to Arch Lich Chander Daray. I’ve offered to store all the artifacts that pertain to your reign, but this shit pisses me off.”

  “And his own fucking people should be rioting in the streets,” Roman snapped.

  “My own are growing increasingly uneasy. Not only were they upset with Chand’s leaving, but they consider the leaders of the fallen knights one of their own. You were dragons once after all,” Chrysander explained. “But I’ve decided I’m not going to allow anyone to tear apart the Council. The warlocks may have created it but it was you, Chand, who built it. The fucking necromancers might wish to erase your reign, but I won’t allow anyone to forget what you mean to this Council or the fact that none of us would be living as we do if it were not for all you gave us. Fuck the Order of Necromancia for what they’ve allowed to happen. I was pissed at you for resigning but I have to agree with Alaric. Let them sink in this rotten ship they’ve built.”

  Drystan took a healthy sip of his beer. “And to think I chewed him out for not fighting to get his job back.”

  “I don’t care if I’m ever the Arch Lich again,” Chander insisted.

  “I understand why you feel that way,” Chrysander replied. “I’m going to make sure the necromancers are punished for that stunt today, and the druids and panthers will get slapped down as well for propelling it forward. This Council cannot survive without the fallen knights and we’ll not lose the sentinels either. You may be new, but I know once your people are here and you can establish yourselves, you’ll provide plenty to the Council. Keep me in the loop, gentlemen. I will do all I can to make sure you stay.”

  “We’re on board for now if there are consequences for today and Chand’s idea is at least considered,” Drystan said. “Leaders and races need protection from power-hungry assholes.”

  “The sentinels are united with the fallen knights,” Alaric stated.

  “Chand, it’s ironic, isn’t it?” Chrysander asked. “Here you sit between the men you personally resurrected who rule over an entire race you created and a man resurrected who Fate picked out as your mate. I can’t think of a necromancer who has meant more to anyone than you.”

  “What can I say? I have a thing for dead guys.”

  Alaric laughed at Chander’s quip, and the group enjoyed a beer while they talked of things a great deal less significant than what had brought them all to Redmilla’s. He learned that Drystan and Conley expected to have daggers soon, and then everyone at the table—bar the sorcerer—spoke excitedly about the opportunity to train with sentinels. Alaric hoped the Council held up; it seemed his men were going to have ample interest in all they had to offer.

  Chapter 32

  A few weeks later, Chander was lying on the couch, feet propped in Alaric’s lap, reading another book about shifters. Things were progressing well with the sentinel complex, and the days ahead were going to be all about fun—according to Victor and Evergreen since they’d be concentrating on picking out color schemes and furniture. The Council world had been uneasy since Sigimund had brought forth his petition, but things had settled down when the oversight committee had announced their punishment for the Order of Necromancia. The Circle of Druids and the shifter community of Panthera had not come out unscathed either—they had been given the option to trade their long suspensions for large fines. The penalties collected had been split between the fallen knights and the sentinels.

  As for the necromancers, the elected Arch Lich had been banned from the Main Assembly Hall for an entire year. He could cast ballots on behalf of his people through the same absentee process Chander had used while recovering from his heart attack. The Order of Necromancia had been stripped of all their committee seats. That was a big blow—as the former leader of the Council, Chander had been asked to every committee of importance. They would have to petition those committees to get reinstated after twelve months, but no one believed they’d be invited back. At least not anytime soon.

  As for the necromancers themselves, they’d begun to throw demonstrations. Not at the punishment placed on their leader but to object to his rule. The Council was paying them little attention; they’d voted him in. They’d also voted on the new bylaws which Chander had finally been told were written as if no Fate-born leader had existed. There was an election process that paid no mind to Fate and included a clause which forced anyone who believed themselves to be Fate-chosen to prove it scientifically. That was impossible, and they knew it. It was clear they rejected the very idea that Chander had ever been their legitimate ruler.

  It shouldn’t have hurt his feelings; he should have expected it but he hadn’t, and it stung. He’d made mistakes—plenty of them—but he’d given his all to the necromancers. Now he was being systematically erased from their world. So be it, he decided. He had the sentinels, including the sexy one who was cushioning his feet. It was the end of a long week and somehow, they’d managed to get the condo to themselves. The Skeleton Seven had scattered after their nightly meeting and returned to either D’Vaire or the compound. Victor had gone over to hang out with Evergreen, and the sentinels still tasked with gua
rding Chander were out on a date.

  “This is stupid,” he heard Alaric mutter.

  “Babe, what’s the matter?”

  “This movie is ridiculous.”

  “Then turn it off.”

  “I feel obligated to finish it since I started it.”

  “You know for an elite, deadly assassin you have a disproportionate nice streak.”

  “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or a complaint.”

  Chander laughed as Alaric slid a hand under the pant leg of his comfy jeans. “Considering my feelings for you, I would think that would be obvious.”

  Alaric lifted a brow. “Not necessarily. I’ve been warned multiple times by men who you love that you have a nasty mean streak.”

  “Bax and Ben do have a point.”

  “How do you feel about dating?”

  Cocking his head to the side, Chander replied, “I am fairly confident my mate would object to me dating.”

  Alaric gave him an exaggerated eye-roll. “I meant with me.”

  “Are we moving into the public phase of our relationship?”

  “I believe things are progressing well between us.”

  “You bet your fine ass they are.”

  “Then perhaps we’re ready for a discussion about our future.”

  Chander created a silver bookmark and stuck it between two pages before setting the hardback down on the coffee table. He pulled his feet off Alaric and sat up. He bent one knee and moved so it rested lightly against the sentinel’s thigh. Leaning forward, Alaric met him halfway and they kissed before Chander retreated. “Okay, let’s talk.”

  “Fine, I hate Sundays.”

  “I thought you liked having plenty of time to see to the sentinels at the compound.”

  “I do, but you refuse to even discuss the possibility of me returning in the evenings. Every week I dread Sundays because I know that’s the night I’m guaranteed to sleep alone.”

  “I guess we are together the other six nights.”

  “Yes, we are,” Alaric said. “This isn’t about sex either. We have plenty of it, but I prefer to sleep with you.”

  “I guess it makes no difference to the sentinels if you’re here with me to sleep on Sunday nights.”

  “Chand, if you’re sleeping here seven nights, then we need to consider having you officially move in.”

  “Moving in means shredding our separation agreement.”

  “I realize that,” Alaric replied. “And I can see you’re uneasy. Tell me what it is about the idea you don’t like. I thought things were going well, and you have seemed dedicated to making us work.”

  “Things are better than fantastic, and there’s nothing I’m more dedicated to than you.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  Chander rubbed his forehead. “Fuck, this is going to sound awful.”

  “If I promise not to have my feelings hurt, will you be honest with me?”

  “I don’t want to hurt you but the truth is, the thing that scares me is the idea of being Lich Sentinel-mate.”

  Alaric’s glowing eyes appeared relieved. “It has nothing to do with me, does it? You don’t want to be a Council leader.”

  “Isn’t that horrible? I’m the Fate-born leader of the necromancers and the Fate-chosen mate of the leader of the Sentinel Brotherhood. I’m the only one on the planet picked twice over and here I am dreading the very idea.”

  “Chand, if you consider it, you’ve been acting as the Lich Sentinel-mate since we began this second journey together. You have been facilitating a giant building project which will house nearly all the sentinels.”

  “Yes, I get that and I’ll be honest—I’ve found it interesting and rewarding work, but I don’t want to attend Council sessions or have anything to do with that shit.”

  “Baby, I don’t think you need to. One of us going is enough. I’d love to have you at my side for that stuff, but not if you don’t want to do it. There’s plenty you do and can do after this project is done that will keep you busy.”

  Chander grabbed one of Alaric’s hands and captured it between his own. “Are you sure? It seems unfair to you.”

  “I don’t think it’s unfair at all. We’re the leaders of the Sentinel Brotherhood, we decide how that works for us. Right now, you prefer the shadows.”

  “Just like a good sentinel,” Chander said with a half smile that Alaric kissed.

  “Exactly.”

  “Okay, then I vote we quietly ask the fallen knights to destroy our separation papers.”

  “It’s no one’s business but our own and, of course, the people close to us.”

  “I guess I won’t have much difficulty talking Bax and Ben into moving in here.”

  “It will keep the Skeleton Seven here more too, they enjoy their gaming system.”

  “We’ve only got a couple of months until they’ll be here full-time.”

  “Are we content with being legally united and living together?”

  Chander linked his fingers through Alaric’s. He wanted more but didn’t know if Alaric was ready. The truth was, it was getting more and more difficult each time they made love to smack his demon down from biting Alaric. Especially since he wanted to make him fully his mate just as much as his demonic counterpart. “I’m not.”

  “You want to bite me.”

  “I bet you’re going to taste delicious.”

  “Were you afraid I would object?”

  “We’re still not obeying that whole ‘move slow’ idea.”

  “Fuck slow.”

  “We do sometimes,” Chander said with a grin. “But I like it fast too.”

  “I will allow you to bite me on one condition.”

  Chander was taken aback. “Okay, what’s the condition?”

  “We get rings. You’ll need a ring of rank, and I want mating bands like shifters wear.”

  “Rings are your condition?”

  “And mating marks.”

  “You want big marks on our arms like the D’Vaires?”

  “Drystan and Conley have them as well.”

  “I guess I can live with your name plastered over my skin.”

  Alaric’s lips turned upward. “I’m curious to see what mine will look like.”

  “I don’t know anyone who is mated to a necromancer that has one.”

  “And you’re half demonic, so it should be very unique.”

  “I’m excited about all of this.”

  “Are you nervous about moving forward and making these permanent changes to our relationship?”

  Chander took a moment to assess his current state of mind. There was excitement, love, and a pervasive feeling of everything that they were discussing being right. Anxiety was there—he’d never be fully rid of it—but this was what he wanted. Alaric was his mate. He adored him and wanted to be committed to him in every way. At night, he wanted to fall asleep next to him and wake up knowing that his day would be spent looking forward to every moment they were together. “I’m not going to let anxiety control my life. I want this. I want you.”

  “I do too.”

  “Thank you, Alaric.”

  “What are you thanking me for?”

  Chander leaned up so he could kiss him. “One, for loving me and two, for giving me another chance after I fucked everything up. You truly are an incredibly nice person who had the inner strength to be able to forgive me and not hold my stupid, hurtful actions against me. When you agreed to try again, you did it with a clean slate. You’ve treated me with nothing but tenderness, kindness, and love. I appreciate that, and I appreciate you. You are a gift. One I might not deserve but I’m going to hold on to with all that I have because I don’t want to have a life without you in it. I’ll never be complete if you’re not at my side. You’ve been patient while I’ve struggled with not just our relationship but with my inability to be fair to myself. I love you. I’m grateful for you.”

  “Are you trying to make me cry?”

  “I could add the
part about how sexy I think you are. Does that help?”

  “Not sure, I’m going to need you to elaborate.”

  More than happy to do that, Chander slid onto his lap. “Not only do I have a mate who is strong and disciplined, he’s ridiculously good looking.” Chander ran his fingers through Alaric’s raven-colored tresses. “He’s got this messy hair that makes me hungry to touch it. His eyes. Shit, they are this unbelievably bright green.” He stroked his thumb over Alaric’s mouth which had driven him crazy from the start. “His lips. I love these lips. The way they look.” He kissed him. “The way they taste and when he puts them on my dick I lose my fucking mind.”

  “I still feel as if I need more practice giving you blowjobs.”

  “I told you, you can’t suck on it forever. It gets sore.”

  “I haven’t sucked on it since last night. It’s not sore now.”

  Chander pressed his lips to Alaric’s once again and added a bit of tongue before pulling away. “I know, but you and I just decided to move forward with our relationship. That means I get to sink my teeth into your neck.”

  “I’m your willing victim.”

  Inside, Chander could feel his demon stirring. Their mate had just given his consent to be bitten to fully cement their matebond. Chander had exchanged blood with Alaric almost a year before, but his demon had been waiting all this time. He was not going to be deterred. His gums tingled, and his fangs punched through. His vision flickered, and he knew his eyes were red. “We should go to bed.”

  “Put your arms around my neck.”

  Chander did as he was told, and Alaric grabbed his ass in both hands before standing. Wrapping his legs around the sentinel’s waist, he kissed him as best he could with his fangs in the way as Alaric walked them into the bedroom they would share from this point forward. He was grateful he didn’t have much beyond clothes and the books he needed to pull out of storage; Chander couldn’t wait to call this place home.

  Alaric sat down on the side of the bed and Chander grew hard as he thought about what they were about to do. Alaric shoved his hands under his T-shirt and dragged his mouth across Chander’s jaw. Chander and his demon wanted more. He reached up to his collar and jerked his T-shirt over his head. The garment fluttered to the floor and Alaric reached between them to undo Chander’s jeans.