by Stacy Reid
“This is Princess Shilah. And it is for her the Empire has declared war.”
Stillness blanketed everyone on the turret, and Lachlan dared not move.
“Why is she valuable to him?” his king demanded, the coldness emanating from him causing Lachlan’s mate to shiver and pale.
“She is Princess Shilah of the house of Symonrah, rightful ruler of the kingdom of Dxyriah of Serange. She is an Imperial telepath with the power to demolish the psychic barrier between man and beast in Darkans. Not only is she able to shatter that barrier, but she is also half of the power needed to force the demon from its host into a corporeal form and place it under the control of the Empire of Mevia. Retrieving her will be the focus of the empire, and only death will come for those who think to hide her from the Empire’s might.”
His mate paled and stumbled back, bitter fear leaking from her. Pain and betrayal rode the wave, and she stared at him with widened eyes.
“What you claim is impossible,” Talon snapped, scrubbing a hand over his face. “The kingmaker has promised a new leader for the Darkage, and that bastard is plotting with the empire to murder Gidon. And for what? So that he can torture our people for the power within us?”
“If the Emperor had Darkans in his army, whom he had absolute control of, his might would be unmatched,” Drac said, his gaze hard and piercing on Princess Shilah, whose anxiety was like a living entity as she fed them with her fear. “I surmise my friend; the princess is the reason you and your demon has merged in a way I’ve never seen in our kingdom. She broke your vow and your mind at the order of the emperor.”
Retribution throbbed in his friend’s voice, and Shilah stepped back a few paces.
“Princess Shilah and the witch Amirah are the ones who directed and pulled the demon beasts that attacked the Kingdom of Nuria from its host.”
The shocked silence was profound.
“Why is she alive?” Drac asked with palpable menace.
Princess Saieke gasped, and Lachlan felt the promise of death leaking from Gidon. His king’s eyes were those of a predator waiting, watching, promising retaliation. He had judged Shilah, found her guilty, and her death was imminent.
Lachlan held out his hand to her. Her mouth trembled as she hurried over to his side, and she placed her hand in his. He carefully gathered his mate in his arms, barely holding onto the rage beating through his soul. It was unexpected and even unsettling, this desire to be gentle with her. She stirred, and he glanced down. How pale she seemed. His princess was so small and delicate, so curved and soft. She was light to his darkness, compassion to his merciless nature. Yet so powerful in her own right.
He breathed in her fragrance, absorbing the feel of her petite, curvy body against him. Nothing had ever felt so right to Lachlan. Despite her light and purity tethering him, violence blossomed through him and his monster twisted across his skin, its eyes snapping open. “Anyone who tries to harm her will only know pain and suffering,” he said, his voice hissing with feral undercurrents.
She tightened her fingers around his. He could hear her heart, the rhythm too loud.
“By the laws of the Darkage, I claim Shilah Symonrah as my mate,” he said, his voice low, but the tone one of absolute authority and the darkest of promise. “My life, my honor, my fidelity, my rage and my all belongs to her for eternity. A threat to her is a declaration of war. And I will answer the call of the empire and anyone who wishes to harm her with a message of my own—death and suffering which has never been endured.”
With a sense of shock and fear, Shilah realized that Lachlan’s loyalty was utterly hers and belonged to no one else. “Lachlan.” Spoken along their unique pathway, his name came out so husky, her voice shaking. In that instant, she accepted Lachlan would kill his king if he were a threat to her. Her heart denied such a betrayal, yet her soul rejoiced. She could hear the steady rhythm of his heart, a reassuring beat. The warrior behind her was not frightened at the danger that suddenly rode the air at his brutal, unshakable promise. She stared at him, unable to prevent herself from moving closer to his heat. The king watched them, his silver eyes cold and cunning, entirely at odds with the small smile of amusement about his mouth. The hair on her arms stood up, and a frisson of fear slid down her spine.
A shadow shifted from the corner of the balcony, and a man stepped into the light, a ravishing red-haired female by his side. Shilah blinked, her eyes darting to the cruelly sensual lips of the man and the black mark on his pale cheek which looked like a claw, finally accepting that all Darkans were handsome and downright terrifying.
“But not as handsome as me.”
Shilah glanced up at Lachlan, disbelief pounding through her. “Are you making a jest…at this moment, Lachlan Ravenswood?”
“He is Drac El Kyn. My friend. They are all my friends.”
His voice moved in her mind—soft, tender even. So at odds with the harsh brutality of his handsome features. She could feel no amusement, the buzz of raw power about her slapped at her skin like a thousand knives. Their lives were in danger and from the very people he called friends. The malevolence in the air, shifted like a tide, pouring over her skin and sinking into the cervices of her beings.
She was unprepared for the feeling of his gentle fingers stroking her skin.
“If anyone thinks to harm her, my retribution will be etched in the history of the seven kingdoms,” he said, his voice a terrible iciness with its complete lack of feeling.
Talon let out his breath in a long, slow hiss. “They will come for her,” he murmured, observing him. “They will not stop until she is back at the Empire.”
“Let them come. Examples must be made.”
Shilah felt as if he’d wrapped her in a protective cloak of violence. A threat to her would be suppressed mercilessly. Shilah did not like the fear that lingered within her. She did not know him or understood his world and the brutal code he lived by. A deep terror stayed inside that if she allowed herself too close to this man, that chill of violence and rage will entwine upon her soul, and that would be the sure way to unfold her sister’s prophecy.
Queen of darkness you shall become.
Lachlan was there instantly, flooding her mind with warmth and reassurance, feelings that must be strange to him, but here he was providing them for her. Unable to help herself she peered up at him, sinking into the promise she saw in his eyes, wanting to desperately return it. The madness of it did not escape her, but she hungered to be what he wanted even if for a moment in time. His mate. Even though she did not understand its full implication.
Somehow it felt important, more important than any love she’d ever dreamed. But a connection she’d always desired. The only thing she was absolutely certain of was that it promised passion in his arms and a reprieve from the duty that sat upon her shoulder always tormenting her with doubts and fears of ever saving her people. A reprieve from the knowledge that as an Impure it was against the laws of her land to ever marry and have children. She envisioned a lifetime of loneliness. The weight of it would crush her if she gave into the feelings. The promised pleasure was something she hungered to taste, but the man currently present was so different from the one she’d had her brief encounter within Mevia.
His slow smile made her tremble, and her sigh of need and acceptance vibrated on the air as his mouth descended to take possession of hers. It was a brand. One that seared her insides with molten heat. It truly was frightening how she reacted to him.
Before she could fully respond, he lifted his head and faced his friends. “I present my lekia—my mate.”
She waited for a heartbeat until her pulse settled, then stepped forward and dipped into a brief curtsy. “It is good to meet you all,” she said meeting their gazes with an arrogant tilt of her head. She was the princess of Dxyriah and the mate of Lachlan Ravenswood, she would not cower.
The red-haired female was the only one to offer her a warm smile, and then they bowed, and Shilah was almost charmed by their elegant synchron
icity. The king stepped forward, his measure of her chilling. A kiss of danger whispered across the back of her neck, a faint disturbing prickle as if talons and claws scraped against her skin. She lifted her chin. “King Gidon Al Shar, I am deeply regretful I allowed my desperation to obscure my honor. In doing so, I dishonored the sense of justice my parents instilled in me, and I hurt people who were under your protection. I offer you reparations.”
“Recompense will be paid,” the king said.
“And I shall pay it,” Lachlan said.
“As her mate, it is your right,” Gidon murmured, assessing her closely.
Shilah could not imagine what they could demand of Lachlan, but the need to protect him burned in her veins, dominating all else. “I am responsible for my actions, and I would be the worst sort of…of…mate to allow this man to suffer for my failures. I made a decision, it has consequences, and I will pay the debt demanded by your nation with honor.”
A growl rumbled from Lachlan and Amusement glinted in the king’s eyes.
“I do not require flesh and blood Princess Shilah, merely trading alliance with your kingdom. Serange is notorious for being stingy with their trading borders, and none of the seven kingdoms can trade within your walls or enter your portals. The gatekeepers are reputed to be merciless in defending your world.”
She curtsied, shocked at his courteous and forgiving nature. “It would be my honor to broker talks of trade between our realms when I reclaim my kingdom.”
Dark Amusement flowered in her mind from Lachlan. “King Gidon is not forgiving, he is cunning and manipulative. Our mates are treasured more than our lives. He would not do anything to hurt you.”
The king nodded, admiration swirling in those silver orbs.
Lachlan’s incredible heat flushed against her back and she leaned into him, uncaring if it made her seem weak.
“I take leave with my mate. I will call upon the Western Keep tomorrow,” he drawled.
“Stay,” Gidon commanded. “Drac and his mate, and Talon and his mate intend to stay for dinner. I invite you and Princess Shilah to do the same. The war council will need to convene, and your presence is needed.”
Shilah smiled tentatively. “We would be honored—”
“We leave for the Eastern keep now,” Lachlan said, his tone rough, sensual, and possessive.
“Why?” Talon asked with an arch of his brow. “My mate has wanted to speak with you, and it has been weeks since we’ve all dined together.”
She felt Lachlan stare at the top of her head and she glanced up at him. Lust blasted from him and raked against her senses, and her eyes widened. With a gasp, she snapped her gaze forward to his friends. A blush engulfed her body for she suspected they knew Lachlan’s intention.
Her heart thundered, and with trembling hands, she pushed a tendril of her hair behind her ear. He planned to ravish her once he took her away. She was not ready, Shilah doubted she would ever be prepared to take a lover as brutal and uncompromising as the man behind her. Without warning, shadows swallowed her, and she was gathered into his arms. She wrapped her legs high around his waist, hooked them behind his back, gripped his shoulders, burying her face into the warmth of his neck as they moved with unparalleled speed.
“War has just been declared, Lachlan Ravenswood. Should you not be meeting with your king and rallying your warriors,” she said desperately.
“Armies do not march on the first call to war, my mate. Kingdoms will begin assessing their strengths and weaknesses, securing their borders, and collecting intelligence about the enemies in preparation for the upcoming battles. Alliances will be formed, possible Allegiances—joint heirship of kingdoms by two rulers marrying, for the most powerful will win the war that is fated to tear the seven kingdoms apart.
“This is because I ran, I—”
“War has been trembling on the air long before you arrived on Amagarie. This call now by Mevia is a show of force by the empire to frighten those who harbor you for their might is great. Their population is almost three hundred million citizens, and they have an alliance with Avindar—the kingdom of lightning, and that kingdom has over two hundred million. The Darkage in comparison only holds fourteen million people, Boreas one hundred fifty-two million, Aria one hundred and ten. The size of Caelum is currently unknown for their kingdom is under the vast oceans of Amagarie. As of such the empire army is greater than all the six kingdoms’ combined forces.”
Shock and sorrow tore through her. “I am so sorry,” she whispered.
“You will not apologize again, mate. The Empire has no right to you, and I will protect you,” the menace in his voice echoing once again with unfathomable power.
Sudden fear tore through her for him. “Once I leave the Empire will cease hunting me.”
He made no reply, and with a sense of profound shock, she caught the edge of his thought that resolved he would never let her go.
She suppressed the need to reach out to her sister, not wanting to share her fear, when Kala had enough to shoulder. The visions haunted Kala, and drained her energy, for she constantly searched the future for another outcome. Shilah had reached for her earlier and had almost wept with relief to find her sister slept, resting peacefully for the first time in weeks. For that gift alone, Shilah would repay King Gidon in wealth from her kingdom.
Shilah buried her face in his neck and held onto him as he traveled with them for miles. Those minutes passed in silent anticipation, and with a peculiar vulnerability beating through her. He stirred in her mind, flooding her with warmth, and hunger, and the burning need to belong to him in every way. Just for a moment, a reprieve from the lonely existence she had consigned her heart and life to as she served her people.
Panicked, she could barely breathe, her lungs burning for air. “I feel scared.” The sense of tears was thick in her voice now, and she hated the anxiety searing through her. He felt so raw, so primal, so unstoppable.
He remained silent in the cage of her mind, but she could feel the fire of lust rising in him, sweeping along her senses in a wave of pure fire. His arms tightened around her, and the darkness and shadows danced, painting the blurred world with strange silver-grey auras as he moved with unchecked speed. He scattered soothing kisses to her jaw, along the edge of it, down her neck.
Then he said, “We will wait until you are sure of me, mate. Then I will take you…there.”
Raw, provocative images of his cock bruising her lips as she sucked his thick length deep, of her riding him with wanton hunger, of him gorging on her blood while he took her from behind with primal force. It wasn’t fear that filled her at his violent sensuality. It was a deep ache of want and complex needs. Her nipples became tight and tender, desperate for the stroke of his tongue over the tender tips, the sucking heat of his mouth as it would travel down, and the rasp of his teeth over her clitoris. But beyond the temptation of desire, there was another emotion pouring through her. A thing she’d never imagined feeling with a man like Lachlan Ravenswood.
His promise felt forged in iron. His arms felt safe.
And in that moment, she knew she could love this fierce creature with every emotion in her soul.
14
A few minutes later, they came to a stop, and the shadows retreated. Everything stilled—the surrounding forest holding its breath. There was a winding pathway leading to a castle perched on a hill in the distance. Dozens of torches lit the cobbled trail, and she moved forward onto the path, not questioning why he hadn’t taken her directly to the castle. It wasn’t that she was uncurious, but her throat felt too dry for speech, too many nerves thrummed in her veins for the coherent formation of words.
Shilah sauntered ahead, and the walkway gradually steepened. She could feel his eyes on her and every single step she took sent more heat rushing through her body. Though the great torches helped her see the cobbled path before her, it did not do much in illumining the surrounding land. Darkness hovered at the periphery of the light, and she tilted her head, fasc
inated the stars seemed to be much further up in the sky than seen from the other realms. It was as if a layer of darkness covered the beauty of the night sky, dimming the shimmering brilliance of the stars.
The incline grew shaper, and when she paused, he took her in his arms and as if in the blink of an eye she was at the top of the pathway. The castle sat atop a mountain overlooking the rest of the Eastern quadrant. Trees rose to enormous heights with vines and flowers sprawled for miles. They moved past the front courtyard which too had dozens of great torches lit, illuminating great winged beasts, massive snakes with ridged backs, wolvyes, lyons all frozen in eternal fight or flight.
His castle was starkly graceful, with an air of chilling elegance pronounced in every sleek line, which seemed to rise to the heavens. The massive stone structure, with the most beautifully designed buttress Shilah had ever seen, was awe-inspiring. Cascading vines dripped from the castles, twining around the statues that perched on its highest peak. Its dark beauty strangled her breath.
He had dozens of gargoyles, many caricatures of massive beasts perched on high turrets. Some stared somber, some snarling, and some with their heads thrown back howling to the heavens. Some Shilah couldn’t decide what they were, some sort of Lyon with wings.
“How breath-taking, Lachlan Ravenswood.”
With another blink, she was somewhere else similarly lit with torches. A cliff it seemed and below lay a valley, and beyond that valley, the sound of crashing waves hitting rocks reached her ears.
“Where are we?”
He moved to stand beside her and then replied, “A place I’ve visited when I seek peace.”
Shilah stared at him, never imaging there was a moment in time a man such as he could have craved for peace. She shifted her attention to sounds coming from the valley—the rustling of creatures, the cries of birds, the rushing of water. She allowed that serenity to seep into her and soothe her own turbulent mind. There was a shift in the darkness, a shape emerging, and she blinked wondering if she imagined it. Then a hulking beast appeared, its tongue lolling from its head.