The Amagarians Boxset: Book 1-3

by Reid, Stacy

  “Well, I suppose it’s fortunate that you escaped such a cold-blooded union. For it would have been one if you had no interest in the princess’ charms,” Uriah said.

  Ajali ignored his brother’s penetrating gaze that seemed to search for signs that he was distressed. There were none. He had suffered a significant loss in the silent war being waged against his kingdom. But he would not waste time lamenting. Instead, he concentrated on plotting with decisive ruthlessness how to protect his people from the dangers that stalked them—war and anarchy.

  “Did I misunderstand the urgency in which you wanted the allegiance with the kingdom of winds and mountains?” Uriah pushed himself off the desk, striding to the mantel where he poured two goblets of wine. He sauntered over to Ajali, handing him a goblet.

  “At one point, it seemed that was your only goal as you worked to manipulate the king of Boreas.”

  Ajali grunted. For months, he had sought to influence the Borean king until the man pledged his daughter to Ajali. He'd arrived in Boreas a couple of weeks ago to marry Princess Saieke, only to discover she had fled and fallen in love with a man who belonged to one of the vilest races of the Amagarians, betraying the oath her father had made with Nuria. It befuddled Ajali that with the whispers of war rioting through Amagarie, the princess had been foolish enough to be pursuing love. For him, nothing was more crucial than protecting his kingdom. The brutal lesson of choosing one person over the life of many had etched in his heart and soul. Love was a pervasive weakness.

  “Rumors say that a Darkan has mated her?” Uriah asked in the silence.

  “You seem well informed, kalij,” Ajali said as he sipped deeply of the wine, his hand the only part of him in motion.

  Uriah chuckled. “It’s my job to be informed as brother and advisor to the king. I have my spies, and you have yours, Ajali. There are murmurs in the city that our people feel they have been dishonored. We will need to prevent any movements against the princess’ kingdom.”

  Ajali raised his brow, shifting to capture his brother’s hazel eyes. Coldness flowed through his veins. “We have been dishonored. We will squash no murmurings, and we will see how we can gain from such disquiet. I need leverage to manipulate the King and Queen of Boreas.”

  The door flung open, and Ajali’s eyes flicked to his most trusted high chancellor, Bastien who entered with a parchment in his hand.

  “News and greeting from the King of Aria,” Bastien said, handing Ajali the scroll, removing the goblet from Ajali’s hands.

  He unrolled the parchment, scanned it, and raised his brows. “It seems as if King Valius delivered me gifts in honor of my allegiance with Boreas,” Ajali murmured, feeling some amusement. The reaction of the seven realms as they learned he lost the allegiance would be interesting.

  Uriah took the parchment and perused it intently.

  “Did he also send a chest of the precious gems they are known for?” Bastien queried, sinking into a great chair.

  “Several chests, along with ten of the most beautiful women of Aria to join my harem. He hopes my queen and I will enjoy his gifts thoroughly,” Ajali said flatly.

  “Do we return them?” Uriah asked.

  Ajali moved to the windows overlooking the courtyard. “Yes.”

  “If I may, my liege,” Bastien replied. “To return the king’s gift would be an insult to him and Aria. The gems must be returned, but the women would be stained, as it will be said they were inferior to those already in your harem. Your harem is fabled, my lord.”

  Ajali already had three hundred of the most beautiful women in his harem to respond to his every whim and desire. Lady Sascha, the Countess of Assia, had been his favorite erratically over the past several months.

  He had taken others, but there had been a marked preference in how often he had demanded her presence.

  “They are not going to last long under Lady Sascha’s reign.” Uriah chuckled. “She is called the queen of the harem, and she lords it over those she deems beneath her.”

  “They are beautiful,” Bastien uttered, “and I believe you need a distraction. You have been traveling some time and must have missed Sascha or any of your other haris, sire.”

  “I agree,” Uriah said softly. “Take some time for pleasure. You have not been sleeping. I’ve noticed Ajali. Visit your harem.”

  Mayhap they were right. “I will view the women.” Perhaps he needed the distraction. Tension had him rigid, and his loss of allegiance with Boreas had left him cold since. He had plotted on how to use those indebted to him to achieve his goal. He needed to consider how to manipulate the other kingdoms so that when war arrived, for arrive it would, he could call in their debts.

  “Deliver the women to the hari wing. Ensure they are generously fed, and there is ample fine wine. I will join you shortly.”

  After his chancellor had exited, Ajali spun to face Uriah. “Have attendants and a squadron of warriors return the chest of gems to King Valius. Prepare a missive informing him of the cancellation of Nuria’s allegiance with Boreas, and make a promise for our visit in the near future.”

  Ajali ignored Uriah’s stare, and stalked to the portrait of their fallen queen, seeking something from his mother’s emerald gaze deep within her painted image. Echoes of her wails of loss and despair sliced through his mind. The memory of her haunted gaze, as she lay dying while her kingdom and king burned, had Ajali closing his eyes, blotting out the pain of the past. Nothing had been more important to his queen and mother than the protection of their realm. And in one bid to save her, he had almost sacrificed everything she held dear. He would find another way to prevent the prophecy. Nuria would not fall under his reign.

  I will not fail you or my kingdom again.

  * * *

  Tehdra stood in the northern wing of the castle—the haris’ wing. When their party had entered, the women in the harem had paused to watch, some with great curiosity, others with jealousy. Servants led Tehdra and the others through several chambers before reaching a sitting room, where a score of women lingered. Some sat on cushions sipping wine, others played musical instruments; others leisurely picked at a lavish repast while chatting cheerfully to their companions. All were dressed and pampered in a state of constant readiness as if the King were to visit.

  A rustle of movement snagged Tehdra’s attention, and servants rushed into the room with a female who vibrated with fury. She was magnificent, her skin was rosy with a healthy, pink blush, and her hair was a mass of golden ringlets which reached down to her mid back, with light blue eyes. Jeweled, sheer garments draped her slim, graceful form—garments so sheer Tehdra could glimpse the outline of the female's nipples. She was also adorned in magnificent sapphire set in heavy ornate gold. “Why are they here?!” she demanded, with anger trembling in her voice.

  “You will remember your place, Lady Sascha,” the chancellor said. “You do not question whom the King adds as his hari.”

  Her face whitened. "King Ajali does not need others," she snapped. "You will return them."

  “You overstep, Lady Sascha,” the chancellor growled.

  The blond beauty opened her mouth as if to protest and then closed it with an audible snap. She swept her gaze across them all, coldly assessing. She paused on Tehdra for a long moment. Her eyes flicked on and appraised the other two women at Tehdra’s left, before stopping at a young lady Tehdra had considered a Nubian goddess. Tehdra surmised that King Ajali would be so busy with the goddess; he would hardly spare her a thought, leaving her free to start her investigations without fearing he would want to bed her. Tehdra froze. What if he bedded several of his concubines at the same time?

  The large doors to the sitting room flung open and in strode the king. Her heart crawled its way up to her throat and lodged itself there.

  The man was magnificent.

  Waves of energy simmered in the air around him and such power could have only been earned on bloody battlefields. She glanced at the sheathed swords on both sides of his thighs. Ch
ains coiled around the handles of the swords.

  Curious.

  He was richly garbed in black trousers and a dark gray silken shirt and boots. Her eyes devoured him, his muscled frame, the sharpness of his cheekbones, the brilliance of his eyes, his shoulders that rippled with each movement. At six feet and five inches, he was lithe and graceful, yet somehow predatory. His hair, a fascinating mixture of honey and dark brown, had been plaited into hundreds of locks that tumbled down his back. The contrast of forest green eyes, honey and brown hair against olive skin made him stunning. He reminded her of the jagyuars, great cats that were unique to the Mevians.

  A keen sense of loss ripped through her. Even when her directives were fulfilled, she would never be able to claim King Ajali as her mate, the next half of her soul. She would eventually hunger to know him, but to approach him would be unthinkable. She belonged to the darkness—reviled for the viciousness buried inside of her, and he was the king of a great kingdom.

  * * *

  Ajali observed Lady Sascha’s bowed head curiously. Uriah was probably right; she thought she ruled the harem because he had preferred fucking her. She had a lush body, and she used her mouth with wicked heat and hotness, but it was her mind, her razor-sharp intelligence that drew him. He sighed internally; he did not have time for this nonsense. His oracle predicted war and death for his people, and his death by a woman, no less. With such a prediction, he should be emptying his harem, not adding to his concubines. It was a pity Ruxia had not been able to provide a description of his killer, beyond her hair. “Leave,” he commanded.

  Sascha blushed and quickly curtsied. “My king,” she murmured, then hurried from the room.

  Ajali observed the ten females. King Valius would have sent him the most beautiful. Ajali ran his gaze leisurely over them. He agreed with Bastien that he needed an outlet for the fire which raged deep inside of him. But Ajali saw none that greatly tempted him. He strode to a brunette with wide, tawny gold eyes and lips that looked as if they were made to fit around his cock.

  “Your name?”

  “Suri, my king.” Her voice was soft and lyrical, yet he remained unmoved.

  “Your skills?”

  She tilted her head to meet his regard.

  “I am skilled with the sword, and I control two shenkiris—earth and water. I have trained extensively for years. I speak all the languages of the seven kingdoms, the common language of Amagarie and the languages of Earth.” Her voice droned on until he inclined his head, signaling a stop to the listing of her talents.

  He moved on, almost reluctant to continue. He went through the motions and spoke with three more ravishing women, yet they left him frustratingly blank. Interest stirred as he stopped in front of the pale-skinned female. Obsidian eyes peeked at him from underneath incredibly long lashes. Midnight hair cascaded to her hips, and her skin was so light and smooth he could see the faint veins that ran along her throat. He took measure of every curve, dip and swell of her body, but couldn’t prevent his scrutiny from returning to her face—the most exquisite thing about her. Ajali was not sure if he could describe her features as beautiful. Her cheekbones were sharp instead of softly rounded like the many women in his harem, with eyes exotically slanted like a serpent’s. Arresting. Her eyes seemed like a bottomless pool of darkness, and something wicked lurked there. He lowered his gaze to her lips. Fuck. So full and sensual. She was splendid. And somehow, he knew she was dangerous.

  Awareness hummed through him, and for the first time in weeks, his cock stirred. Though the tallest of the group, she still had to tilt her head to meet his eyes. And she did so boldly.

  “Your name?”

  “Tehdra, my king,” she said.

  The huskiness of her voice caused desire to pulse through him. She seemed lithe and fragile, but his instincts flared to life, warning that the appearance was a façade.

  Curiosity rushed through him. “Your skills?”

  He arched his brow as the pulse at her throat fluttered.

  “I was chosen for my beauty.”

  Ajali became motionless. Even his high chancellor twitched, then stilled.

  Dangerous indeed. “Your beauty?” All knew he only added useful women to his harem. His criteria were simple and understood by the realms. Most came to him as virgins even though it was not one of his requirements. They should be beautiful, intelligent and possess enough skill to defend his castle and themselves if they were ever laid siege. His haris’ purpose was even more straightforward. They served him in all capacities—in and out of bed.

  “I am trained in basic taijiu, I speak three of the languages of the seven kingdoms,” she said after a slight pause.

  “Are you trained in the sensual arts?”

  A quick frown chased her features. “Which ones?”

  “All of them. Rousing me with your touch, enslaving me to the glide of your tongue, and then fucking me until I am replete.”

  Amusement wafted through Ajali as a blush graced her skin. She tilted her head, and the elegant slope of her neck beckoned to be nibbled.

  “Yes.”

  Lie. Those who came to him trained were incapable of blushing.

  This was not the first time an unskilled hari had been presented to Ajali. Many lower families hoped to raise their esteem and wealth by having their daughters in his harem, and he had denied all such requests. Beauty alone was useless to him.

  “Your village?”

  “I am from Balkan; a small village located southwest the city of Ariate. My father’s house would be greatly elevated if one of his daughters joined your harem, and I’ve been groomed for such an opportunity for years,” she said with a charming lilt to her voice.

  Ajali contemplated her, assessing her veracity. She displayed no anxiety but was watchful with an air of danger that prickled along his skin. And there was the anomaly. Who was she? She was not quite what she seemed. Of that, he was confident. Was she only an untrained hari or something more?

  He made to move on and in error looked into her eyes. He fell hard into a web of beguiling carnality. The lust that punched him deep inside rocked him back on his heels. And then her lips curved slightly…as if daring him. His cock flexed and hardened in a rush of fierce desire.

  He ruthlessly restrained the sudden hunger. He was never reckless, and with a mere stare, she tempted him to draw her into his chambers and slake the desire. Though she was the first woman to have his cock twitching with such eagerness in months, he could not ignore the soft warnings stirring in his gut. “Follow me,” he commanded.

  He indicated to Bastien he would add the women to his harem. Ajali would be meeting with several high chancellors and kings in the coming months to cement alliances and assess the other realms' preparation for war. Traveling with fresh beauties to court would be beneficial. His harem was fabled, and many high lords vied for the right to dine with one of his concubines.

  Bastien’s gaze flicked to Tehdra, and Ajali read the question as to what he would do with her. He smiled his answer and chuckled at the disapproval that flared in his chancellor’s eyes. He stalked from the sitting room with Tehdra following.

  * * *

  She had failed in her research.

  All the women the king had spoken with had rattled off skills as if they were trying to join his warrior caste. Disbelief had gripped Tehdra when he had told the Nubian goddess that he would want a demonstration of her skills later after she’d prattled so proudly that in her village, she was unmatched in taijiu. Nothing in the extensive parchment Bylan had given Tehdra indicated this. She was unprepared for all that a hari should have to offer. She had honestly believed he only added women to his harem so he could bed them whenever he pleased. There had been no whispers that his concubines ever served other purposes.

  Tehdra had coldly calculated what to admit about her skills. She had no elements that she wielded like the many they spouted—water, earth, and lightning. She could not say darkness and shadows. Death or imprisonment would have bee
n delivered instantly. She could not say taijiu either. If he required a demonstration, her prowess and speed when she used the shadows to fight would be unmatched. She would be discovered immediately.

  She had no idea how to move without the shadows for speed. Such concentration would be impossible, trying to remind herself not to execute something that she had been doing from the time she was a babe.

  She gritted her teeth. How hard could it be? Simply fight and stay alerted enough not to use the shadows to her advantage. Somehow, she must find the means of enticing the king. Tehdra lengthened her stride to keep up with his pace. They passed dozens of women who curtsied and smiled at him invitingly.

  They climbed winding stairs and swept into a large chamber. It was tastefully furnished with several elegant great chairs and divans strewed randomly about, and silky, colorful tapestries lined marble walls with exquisitely crafted, gold inlays. Her feet sank into the plush carpet.

  The King sprawled indolently into a high chair. “Undress.”

  She couldn’t have heard him correctly. She had expected some hard questions. Not this. “I—”

  “Remove the caftan.”

  He was most assuredly serious.

  Her hands trembled slightly as she drew the string that held the flimsy garment together and stepped from it, naked. Heat climbed her neck, and she gritted her teeth, burying the sudden nerves that erupted through her body.