The Dark Queen

by M. Dalto

  “It’s a power that exudes from you, and when it works how you want it to, it’s like a part of you is finally complete. Like a missing piece of the puzzle has been found.” Lexan swallowed before he spoke again. “How I’m sure it felt for you when you first met my sister.”

  Jared blinked, almost in confusion, and cocked his head to the side in question.

  “They say when one meets their fated partner, predestined by the Prophecy itself, it’s almost like nostalgia incarnate…is that not how it felt when you met Sarayna?”

  “I…I don’t know,” Jared admitted. “It’s hard to remember.”

  Lexan perked a brow. “What do you mean?”

  Jared shook his head. “It seems like a lifetime away now, after everything happening so fast. I remember meeting her at the library. And then again at the bar I used to work at…the rest happened from there.” He shrugged.

  “And that feeling of nostalgia—you’re saying you never felt it?” Lexan pressed.

  “No…I did feel it…once…”

  Lexan watched him intently.

  Just as Jared watched him.

  The first time Jared and Lexan had seen each other face to face, over the dead body of Lexan’s spy…

  “Have you ever considered that maybe there was a mistake?” Lexan asked hoarsely as he pushed off the countertop and slowly made his way around the island. “Maybe that there was something wrong with what you were told? Or that maybe someone else was?”

  “What do you mean?” the Emperor inquired, holding his ground as his gaze followed Lexan’s movements. “That I’m not supposed to be the Emperor?”

  Lexan stopped once he was directly across from Jared. Daring to be so close to him after all that had transpired sent a thrill through him, more so than the actual conversation.

  “Perhaps you were meant to be the Emperor, yes, but…” Lexan’s gaze raked over every inch of the man in front of him before he continued. “What if you weren’t supposed to be her Emperor?”

  Chapter Eight

  The blank stare Jared gave him made Lexan think the Emperor hadn’t heard him. Several moments passed until Jared finally blinked and shook his head.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Jared asked, voice almost at a whisper as if he were afraid the topic of their conversation could bring forth a conflict neither of them was ready for.

  Perhaps he was right.

  “I’m talking about your Prophecy,” Lexan stated as calmly as he could. “And the potential of it being broken.”

  “What makes you think there’s something wrong with the Prophecy?”

  Lexan swallowed as he tried to choose the right words. “Have you and Sarayna…consummated your relationship? Since you’ve arrived in the Empire—”

  “That’s none of your damn business,” Jared snapped.

  “I’ll take that as a no, then,” Lexan mused, and couldn’t deny the sense of relief that flooded through him. “And it doesn’t seem as if she has any desire to marry you any time soon, does it?”

  Jared let out a huff and looked away.

  “Thought so. Haven’t you stopped and asked why?”

  “I assumed it’s because Sara doesn’t want to get married yet…or at all. I’m not going to force her into something she doesn’t want to do.”

  Lexan smirked. “And how has that made you feel?”

  Jared’s brows furrowed as he held Lexan’s stare. “Why do you care so much?”

  “Like I said—perhaps the reason these pieces aren’t falling into place is because you’re trying to fit the wrong ones together.”

  “But she said she dreamed about me.”

  Lexan stilled. “Did she?”

  Jared peered at him suspiciously. “She said she did.”

  Lexan remained silent as he held his gaze, causing to Jared to scoff.

  “Okay, so say you’re correct, and I’m not supposed to be Sarayna’s Emperor—I was still coronated, wasn’t I? I must be someone’s Emperor or else the power of the Prophecy would have smitten me where I stood, right?”

  “Something like that,” Lexan conceded.

  “So again—if I’m not Sarayna’s Emperor, whose Emperor am I?” A dry chuckle. “Yours?”

  Lexan just looked at him, matching that stormy gaze.

  Answer enough.

  Lexan knew, in that moment, that very sense of nostalgia he had mentioned earlier—the one Jared denied ever feeling with his sister—passed between them.

  He knew because he felt it, too.

  “That’s impossible,” Jared whispered, but the disbelief in his voice was tinged with something else.

  Acknowledgement.

  That maybe, after all this time, he realized that what he was looking for hadn’t been with Sarayna at all.

  “Nothing is impossible, Jared,” Lexan said softly as he took a step closer.

  “But…the dream…”

  “Perhaps the Prophecy was broken after all,” Lexan said as he took another step, closing the space between them. “Or perhaps it was the work of a madman, planting dreams into his sister’s head only to make her think you were the one she was looking for.”

  Truths and lies.

  Lies and truths.

  He heard Jared suck in a breath as their eyes met, and Lexan watched his lips, where his tongue ran over them expectantly.

  “What do you think would have happened in that cabin, had my sister not walked through the door when she did?”

  “I don’t know.” Jared exhaled, and Lexan was so close he could feel the warmth of his breath on his cheek.

  “And what do you think she would do if she walked back into the apartment right now and saw us like this?”

  That feeling again passed between them as their eyes met, and Lexan felt as though time stood still before Jared responded.

  “I don’t care.”

  Before Lexan could comprehend the words that escaped Jared’s lips, the Emperor’s hands came up to Lexan’s cheeks, holding him in place as he crashed his lips into his own.

  Jared had never been with a man before.

  But everything about Lexan just felt right and had since they met in that damn cabin. He tried not to think about who he was, or the ramifications of what they were about to do. All he could think about were the lips on his as they stripped each other from their clothes while they backpedaled and pulled each other down the hallway toward the bedroom.

  The bed was more than big enough for the two of them, and Jared had no qualms about falling upon it, bringing Lexan down with him, his arms and legs wrapped around his naked body.

  His prince.

  Everything made sense.

  Everything would be made right, with just the two of them…

  And then the phone rang.

  “Leave it,” Jared breathed as Lexan’s lips trailed down his neck, his fingers digging into the firm muscles of Lexan’s back.

  He thought Lexan would agree until the phone rang again, and he lifted his mouth from his neck. He was going to protest before he heard “Fisc” escape Lexan’s lips, and he rolled off of him to pick-up the phone.

  “Hello?” Lexan answered, trying to catch his breath as he listened.

  Jared leaned up on his elbows, trying to catch his own.

  “Sarayna?” Lexan yelped, his eyes darting to Jared, whose own widened. “What are you—how did you get this number?”

  Jared felt lead in the pit of his stomach as he lay there naked, watching Lexan talk to Sarayna on the phone.

  “Nothing—nothing, I’m fine.” Jared could hear Lexan attempt to suppress the panic in his tone.

  Another moment passed. “I don’t know,” he said, letting loose a breath, though he seemed to be considering something. “It could have been…rhaid.”

  Another pause.

  “I gave a card to Crystal, back when I first met her.”

  Jared sat up at that, his back against the headboard.

  “It’s possible…” he continued. “It’
s the only way I can explain why she would have it.”

  Another beat, and Lexan’s gaze turned toward Jared. “Don’t you think you should be more worried about your own task than what we’re doing here?”

  Jared could hear the phone hang up on the other end, and Lexan took his own away from his ear, huffing a chuckle to himself.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked carefully.

  “She told me to stay out of trouble,” Lexan mused as he returned the phone to the bedside table.

  Jared snorted. “What kind of trouble does she expect you to get into?”

  “I don’t know,” he purred, turning back toward Jared, crawling up the bed to straddle his lap, his lips lowering until they were only a hairsbreadth away. “But I’m more than ready to find out.”

  Chapter Nine

  Sarayna wished she had worn a warmer jacket. The sweatshirt she borrowed from her brother was not enough to withstand Boston’s gusting winds.

  Reylor didn’t seem bothered by the weather one bit—he walked with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his pants, keeping his attention focused on the sidewalk at their feet. She wondered if it was to better withstand the breeze, or an attempt to ignore the world that moved on around him.

  She could only imagine what it was like for him, finally visiting the Otherrealm. Knowing about it, but never once coming himself. Books could only lend so much second-hand information, if there were any books on the subject available at all. She remembered the first time she landed in Saratanya’s apartment, and the complete and utter shock that befell her at the stark differences between the realms.

  Sudden thoughts of the recently deceased former Queen Empress made her heart ache, and she looked over at Reylor once again. Perhaps the dimness in his eyes since their arrival was not only because of who they left behind, but also because of who they had lost for good.

  Neither of them had spoken about it.

  The more she thought about it, the more it ate her up inside.

  “Saratanya…did a lot for me. When I first visited here,” she started quietly, now, too, watching the sidewalk at her feet.

  She sensed his gaze shift to her while she spoke, but he remained silent, so she continued.

  “I came here not knowing what to do, where to go, who to even look for—all I had was the name and location of the woman who would help me. Saratanya. Tanya. Queen Empress and my grandmother.”

  Reylor scoffed, and she gave him a sideways glare.

  “Nevertheless, she was there for me. And I just want you to know…regardless of what happened…I know she would have been there for you too if she could have.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Reylor all but growled as they walked on.

  “No, maybe not,” Sara admitted, “but I just want you to know she’ll be missed. You don’t need to mourn alone.”

  He gave her a final glare before looking away. “Where are we going?” he blurted, clearly attempting to draw the topic away from his mother.

  “It’s just up here,” Sarayna said, pointing down the street.

  Even though she was only an infant when she last lived in Boston, despite the quick visit she and Jared made before they returned to the Empire, a part of the city still felt like home. It was like she’d always know her way around when she was there, like it would always be a part of her. During the winter months, she knew it would be the holiday season, and somehow she remembered the one time they celebrated Christmas in the apartment, before Lexan took Crystal back to the Empire and set everything into motion…

  “I don’t know what to expect to find,” he admitted quietly a few moments later, once they crested the hill and turned the corner that led down the street toward her mother’s basement-level apartment.

  “I don’t know what’s left either,” she admitted. “It looked the same, or at least what I thought was the same, the last time I was there…I don’t know what Treyan could have done before he left.”

  Sarayna didn’t regret mentioning her father, even after she felt Reylor’s countenance shift at mention of his name. She never once regretted bringing him back to the Empire. He belonged there—just as they all did. Like they all still did. That her mother and Reylor had begun a romantic relationship thinking Treyan was dead…that was nothing more than an unfortunate turn of events they could work through later once they returned.

  If they ever returned home…if she ever saw her mother or her father again.

  She shook her head as if to erase the thought and glanced at Reylor just as they neared the apartment building’s main entrance. “You could use some new clothes as well.”

  He turned to her with a furrowed brow. “And what’s wrong with my clothing?”

  She gave him a knowing smirk as she took in the dark clothes he had worn since they were last in the Empire. “As much as it is boot season, the rest of your ensemble could use an upgrade.”

  “Where do you suggest I’m going to find new clothes? Will those just be lying around your mother’s apartment as well?” he asked with an exasperated sigh.

  “Maybe,” Sarayna answered with a shrug as she balanced on her tiptoes to retrieve the key hidden in a nearby flower box. “Treyan didn’t seem to bring much back with him when he returned, so I’m sure there was plenty left behind.”

  Reylor watched her curiously. “How did you know that was there?”

  “There’s a lot I know about the Otherrealm that you don’t. Get used to it.”

  A roll of the Lord Steward’s eyes convinced the princess she was getting under his skin, and she silently congratulated herself for such a feat. She still did not care for Reylor, even if he had gotten her out of the Borderlands alive.

  Again.

  The key was cold in her hand as she inserted it into the apartment’s front door. A silent prayer escaped her lips, hoping it still worked. She didn’t expect her father to have changed the locks before he left, or for the apartment management to have been bothered. As the mechanism gave way with a glorious click, she opened the door and stepped into the apartment’s small foyer.

  Even after all this time, Sarayna was still uncertain how the time differences between the Otherrealm and the Empire worked. From when she first left to her return to find her father to now, only a year had transpired though it felt like it could have been an eternity within the Empire they left behind. It seemed almost to shift depending on who needed the time and how much.

  “So, this was where Alexstrayna lived,” Reylor observed as he walked into the apartment, striding past her and into the small kitchen. “It’s so… simple.”

  “Not everyone can grow up in palaces and castles,” she murmured as she shut the door.

  “Where did she grow up?” he asked.

  Sara blinked, realizing she didn’t know. “She never spoke of her parents. At least I don’t think she did.”

  “Hmm,” Reylor said thoughtfully as his eyes roamed around the apartment, dimly lit from the winter sun shining through its windows. “Perhaps we should start searching for an answer as to why.”

  “Go right ahead,” she called back as she made her way down the hall to the bedroom. “I wasn’t lying about finding you new clothes.”

  She didn’t wait for his response before entering the room that had once belonged to her parents. It was clean, with the bed made, but walking into the room felt like opening a time capsule or entering a museum. Everything looked the way it had when her father left, maybe even as it was when her mother was last there. Pictures and vanity items on the dresser, a radio and a phone charging on the bedside table, clothes and shoes stored neatly on the closet shelves. These were her things, their things. She wanted to touch them, hold them, try to gather their smell off the pillows…but there wasn’t time for that. She knew being there was a risk. The apartment had become one of the main focal points for key transport when anyone came or left for the Empire, and she didn’t want to be there should anyone come looking for them here this time around.


  With a sigh, she looked through the closet where plenty of her father’s clothes were left. She grabbed a pair of jeans, a button-down shirt, and a jacket hanging on the back of the bedroom door before she returned to where the Lord Steward was rummaging through the kitchen drawers.

  “I know they’re not what you’re used to, but they’re at least better than what you’re wearing now,” the princess said as she held out the clothing she’d chosen for him. “As for shoes, take anything you can find—”

  “My boots will be fine enough,” he said skeptically, inspecting the offered clothes and giving her a quizzical look.

  “You also smell horrible,” she informed him, pointing toward the bathroom. “A shower, a bath, I don’t care—just wash up before you put those on.”

  He scowled at her but said no more as he gathered the clothes and entered the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

  “That was easy enough,” she muttered to herself as she began to look through the kitchen drawer Reylor had left open before closing it and opening the next, which held more knick-knacks than kitchen utensils. Pencils, pens, scissors, tape…and a business card left precariously on top of the mess.

  She examined it after picking it up. It was plain, with only a name and a number…but it was the name itself that caught her attention.

  Nile D’Busrel.

  From The Borderlands…

  She ran from the kitchen and scrambled through the apartment, cursing herself for not keeping the phone Saratanya had given her to use in New York. When would she have needed to use it in the Empire? How would she have kept it charged?

  Charged.

  Gripping the card in her hand, Sarayna sprinted down the hallway to the bedroom where she remembered seeing the phone charging on the bedside table. She sat on the edge of the bed and a sob caught in her throat as she saw a picture of her mother holding her as an infant set as the phone’s home screen. She gave herself only a minute to look it over, to allow herself that moment of emotion before she swiped the memory away as quickly as she did the lock screen and began frantically dialing the number on the business card.