by Jayden Woods
*
Fayr stood petrified in front of Darius’s room for a long time, searching for the courage to enter.
A few weeks ago she would have run into the room and thrown herself onto Darius without hesitation. How long had she dreamt of a moment like this one! Worse, how many times had she fantasized reliving their single, frenzied night together? Now, the memory made her cheeks burn with shame. She had been so very foolish at the time, even though it was not so long ago. Her foolishness may have cost her brother’s life. Who could say what might have happened had she not been so seized by passion that fateful night?
Her hand trembled, lifting towards the door, then pausing again. Perhaps she should refuse to see him again. After all, the light of dawn trickled through the windows. Tonight she would marry High Chief Abrax. It was too late to change the inevitable. Why torture herself in the meantime?
With an inward groan like the creak of the door itself, she entered the room.
At first, she did not recognize him. She thought perhaps she entered the wrong chamber. A man lay slumped in a couch not far from the window. He wore a simple tunic, leather boots, and meager jewelry. His shoulders sagged over his stomach as if holding in a terrible pain. His brown hair fell over his nose, distorting part of his face.
“Darius?”
With a grimace he sat up. His hand trembled as he fumbled for something under his woolen mantle. At last he grabbed a small vial, popped off the cork, and drank it. She watched his movements in a state of horror. The grace of the man who had walked—almost glided—with her through the halls of Dearen could not be found in the clumsy groping of the figure before her. But after a moment he exhaled, sat up a little straighter, and thrust his gaze up to meet hers.
Here was the man she knew and loved, his chiseled face casting sharp shadows in the sunlight. His eyes gleamed amber gold in the dawn’s fire. “My princess,” he said.
“Darius ...”
Feeling faint, she pulled up a wooden chair and sank down across from him. For a moment, she could not bear to look at him. Despite everything, even his gravely wounded body, she could not deny that she felt as strongly about him now as the day he disappeared—if not more so. “What … what happened?” A hint of anger edged her voice.
“I failed you, my princess.”
She looked back up with surprise. His voice was calm, his gaze unwavering, though something like an ongoing wince pinched his lips.
“I could not save your brother from the assassin, as much as I may have wished to. I could not dispose of Picard or Richard, either: which I certainly wished to do, also.” He cringed as he motioned to a bloody bandage on his thigh. “They bested me, Princess. They knew I killed Leonard Khan. They began to punish me as any Vikandese would.”
“Oh, Darius ...” She leaned forward, tempting to embrace him as she so desired. Something in his gaze stopped her cold.
“I escaped,” he said gruffly. “I live on, and though I am wounded, I will heal.” He reached out and grabbed her hand, so suddenly she flinched. “I will never fail you again, Princess. With Belazar as my witness, I will never let you meet the same fate as your brother.”
A chill scraped over Fayr’s skin. The curtains fluttered and a cold breeze snaked through her gown. She shuddered and drew closer to Darius involuntarily. “Why on earth would you say such a thing in the name of Belazar?”
“I have my reasons,” he said. His lips curled with a strange smile.
She drew back from him, sniffing the foulness of his breath. “What was that awful thing you drank?”
“Apologies, Princess. It is medicine. I might need it to get me through today, if I’m to marry you.”
“Marry me!” The words hit her like a shock. She pulled away from him, stood up, and turned the other direction. “Darius, much has happened since you left. I thought you were dead. I had to make plans. Today I will marry High Chief Abrax.”
“Abrax? Hm.” Darius grunted as he stood. She turned to stop him, to tell him to rest, but his hands caught her from behind and gripped her shoulders tightly. Some of his former strength seemed to pour through his fingers as he pulled her back against him. “I know Abrax.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, somewhat.” He moved away from her, sagging once more. He leaned against the frame of the window for support. The glow of the sunrise lit one side of his body. “I never told you everything about my past, Princess. I am no longer proud of it. I did things I did not wish to do in order to serve the khan and gain his favor. I did what was expected of one with my … capabilities. I betrayed and killed people—a great many people. I have no wish to explain more than that. I said as much on the day I first met you. When I met you, I realized life could be different than what I had lived until then. Do you remember?”
Warmth stirred back into her blood. “I remember.”
“Do you still accept me, knowing this?”
She closed her eyes, shuddering a little. She remembered the strength with which he held her the night they made love, with Leonard Khan’s corpse still warm behind them. She had glimpsed the darkness in him then. But she had not fled from it. “I accept it.”
His arms closed around her. She had not even heard him approach. She buried her face in his chest, inhaling the musky scent of his cloak. “Then accept that my past, unfortunate as it is, brings certain benefits. I can take care of Abrax.”
She stiffened. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean … he respects me. He fears me. They are one and the same thing. If I send him a message, he will heed it. He will call off the wedding, without repercussion.”
“How can you be so sure of that?”
A tremor, ever so slight, rocked his frame. “If I’m wrong, I will pay the price, and I alone. I will take that risk. But you must trust me, Princess. Do not read the message I send him. Do not ask me of its contents. It will either work or … it won’t.”
“Darius ...” She dared to hold him, to press herself against him. She rubbed her cheek against the sandy texture of his neck. His tart scent intoxicated her. “Friva help me, but I trust you.”
His hands squeezed tight against her hips. “So you will marry me?”
“I will,” she said. Then she kissed him. “King Darius.”
She drew him close, embracing all of him, drinking his taste, even the bitterness of his medicine. Gods help her, but she would marry Darius, even if her decision cast the kingdom to ruin.
*
End of Book 1
*
Thank you for reading Ashes of Dearen: Book 1. If you enjoyed my work, please leave a review, and check out my other novels!
Sincerely,
Jayden Woods
Read on for an excerpt from
Ashes of Dearen: Book 2
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR