by Mary Auclair
“Why would you not tell him?” Silva turned to Marielle, her face full of fear and disgust as she looked down.
“Because I know who sent me this.” Marielle bent down, careful not to touch the blood and hair on the floor, unable to look at the ear that lay there like a silent plea. She looked inside the box again and picked up the piece of paper stapled to the inside of it.
A simple message was written in a jerky, impatient hand. Marielle’s eyes ran across it and her fingers opened, the piece of paper fluttering to the ground. Her knees hit the stone floor, and she had to brace herself with her hands to sit upright.
“What is it?” Silva knelt, not caring about staining the wonderful golden gown she wore. “What is this horror?”
Marielle didn’t answer and Silva grabbed her free hand, squeezing hard.
“He’s going to kill him.” Marielle didn’t recognize the small, breathless voice that came out of her throat. “Ignio Marula is going to kill Devan.”
Her mind filled with darkness as silent sobs wracked her shoulders. This was it, that moment where she broke into pieces, too many to put back together.
“Who is this Ignio Marula, Marielle?” Silva didn’t let go and her squeeze became painful.
“He has my brother,” Marielle answered mechanically, her eyes trailing over the blood, then latching on to the lock of hair. Devan’s childish red curls. “He wants me to meet him in the desert. Alone, with as much money as I can find. He gave me very precise instructions.”
Marielle glanced down at the Draekar bracelet and Silva followed her gaze, her face horrified. But this was the only precious belonging she had that could change Ignio Marula’s mind. Silva inhaled sharply, then her grip lifted and she reached for the bloodied paper, her silver eyes trailing quickly over the crude words. Then she lifted her young face and shook her head.
“You have to tell Fedryc.” Silva put the paper down.
“No!” Marielle turned fierce eyes to Silva and the girl stared back with wide, fearful eyes. “Fedryc must know nothing about this. My brother’s life depends on it.”
“But,” Silva began, looking with dismay at the bloody message. “What will you do? This is a trap.”
“I have to find a way to reach Ignio Marula without Fedryc knowing. It’s the only way to save Devan.”
As Silva stared, Marielle knew what she had to do. It was foolish but it was the only solution.
“Fedryc is meeting an important High Lord this morning. That will give me enough time to slip away in a hover transport.” Marielle bent over and stared hard at Silva. “I will need a weapon.”
“Fedryc is the High Lord. He ordered you to stay safe,” Silva protested. “I already betrayed him once.”
Marielle shook her head and leaned into Silva’s space. The girl’s eyes widened. “You will tell no one about this.”
Silva hesitated, then opened her mouth.
“No.” Marielle shook her head. “If you betray me, Devan’s death will be on you. And I’ll never forgive you.”
Silva took her time, her silver eyes going from Marielle to the bloody piece of paper, then nodded.
Fedryc walked through the now familiar hallways, his mind full of dark thoughts. There had been no new contact from Virhot since he’d found the massacre of the mixed-blood people and their families at the border, but the calm was ominous in more than one way.
He could only be grateful that his own people didn’t seem to share this taste for violence. No reports of Human-Delradon altercations had come from the capital Gelmor, nor from any other regions of his kingdom.
Still, Henron was keeping a close eye on his people. The Knat-Kanassis had a history of infiltrating the masses and inciting to violence from below the surface until all hells broke loose and blood bathed the streets.
Fedryc stopped at the door to the landing platform.
The future of his entire kingdom was going to play out on the other side of those doors. He needed an ally in his war against Virhot, more so if Lord Anion had allies of his own. There was too much he didn’t know, too much he still didn’t control in this kingdom he was still discovering.
And that would make gaining the loyalty of any other High Lord extremely difficult. But he had no choice and Marielle’s safety depended on it.
He pushed the door, welcoming the sharp wind on his face as he came to stand in front of the tall, blond High Lord of Katanie.
“Lord Aldric Darragon,” Fedryc said, inclining his head slightly in welcome. “It is an honor to welcome you to Aalstad.”
Lord Aldric’s cold stare settled on Fedryc and his mouth took on a hostile curve.
“The High Lord of Aalstad was not a friend in the past.” Lord Aldric stared at him while his dragon flew over them, far above the castle but a foreboding presence nonetheless. Fedryc could only hope Nyra restrained her territorial instincts and didn’t attack the intruder while he was trying to broker the alliance. “What changed?”
There was a lot Fedryc could say, but nothing that would really mean anything to this powerful High Lord who stood stiffly against the wind.
“I am not my father,” Fedryc stated simply. Because this was the truth, and the only one that mattered.
Lord Aldric sustained his stare for a long time, then he nodded once in agreement. “Neither am I.” His thin lips stretched in a cold smile. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. “There was a particular threat you wanted to talk to me about.”
Fedryc nodded. He would have to tread lightly here. The world of Draekon High Lords was not one of trust, and this man was a stranger.
“You fought the Knat-Kanassis threat in your kingdom some time ago. I read the reports while I was at the Emperor’s court on Dagmar.” Fedryc didn’t miss the slight raising of Lord Aldric’s eyebrows at the mention of the order, nor did he miss the way the other Draekon subtly moved his hand closer to the hilt of his dragon blade.
“Two years ago.” Lord Aldric spoke in an icy tone. “They tried to kill my Draekarra and murdered many of my citizens.”
Fedryc nodded, the grim knowledge filling the void between the words. He knew what had happened in Katanie two years earlier, knew the horrors the Knat-Kanassis had committed against the population. Horrors he would do anything to prevent in Aalstad. And danger facing his Draekarra he would fight to the death to prevent. “I have good reasons to believe the Knat-Kanassis is still here on Earth, and more powerful than before.”
Lord Aldric frowned, then made a small cutting gesture with the hand not hovering by his dragon blade. “The Knat-Kanassis were destroyed, along with Lord Misrael.” He shook his head, his features curving downward in an open and rare display of emotion. “Their Lord of Purity. That is what he called himself. He’s gone now, and so are they. Rhyl and I killed them.”
“The order has not been destroyed. If anything, they are even stronger now.” Fedryc spoke with an even voice, even though his anger at the thought of any harm coming to Marielle threatened to spill out like lava. “And I have good reason to believe they murdered my father.”
Lord Aldric stood up straight, his cold façade unmoving, betraying nothing of the feelings of the man behind it. It took less time than before for him to nod.
“Rumor has it you took a human Draekarra.” Lord Aldric tilted his head and Fedryc knew the Draekon was assessing him. “But there was no formal ceremony.”
“I was born and raised on Dagmar.” Fedryc shrugged much more casually than how he felt. “I sealed the mating accordingly.”
Lord Aldric eyed him intensely before lifting an eyebrow. “I see. And why would you think the order killed Lord Aymond? There could be any number of reasons why a High Lord was murdered. Aalstad was powerful and many others could have been jealous of such riches.”
“Yes, my father had enemies, as do we all,” Fedryc bit out his words, wanting to give the High Lord of Katanie a clear indication that he was not to be trifled with. If he appeared weak in front of Lord Aldric then his chances of s
ecuring an alliance were slim to none. “Nissar was poisoned with Venemum Ardere. A poison you are familiar with.”
The revelation seemed to wipe away Lord Aldric’s suspicion and his face became more alert. More open.
“Three nights ago, a young servant girl was found dead in her room,” Fedryc continued. “She left a suicide letter taking the blame for the killing. That letter was covered in Venemum Ardere as well. My aunt, Lady Isobel, is still in the medical wing after touching that paper.” Fedryc left out the part where he himself was weakened, as well as Nyra. No one could know about that. “And three weeks ago, my Draekarra’s brother was kidnapped by a man wielding a blade poisoned with Venemum Ardere.”
Lord Aldric’s eyes went to the door behind Fedryc before settling on him again. “Then you know the threat resides in your house.”
“Yes.” Fedryc nodded.
Lord Aldric inhaled sharply and a shadow passed over his eyes. This touched him, the treachery of one of his own, and Fedryc knew why. Lord Aldric had almost lost his Draekarra when she was pregnant with his heir to the treachery of the woman who had been hired as a governess for the young Lady Shari. It was only the strength of Rhyl’s bond to Lord Aldric’s Draekarra that had saved the human woman as the toxicity of the pregnancy had taken hold.
“Whoever has allegiance to the order is one of my own,” Fedryc agreed. “My castle is under constant surveillance and my Draekarra safe in my rooms at all times, as well as my aunt and cousin.”
“Then why do you need my assistance?” Lord Aldric lifted his eyes to his white dragon, still circling above the landing platform. “You are the master of your house. Not me.”
“Because I fear there is more to this threat than some insane fool inside my house.” Fedryc forced himself not to fidget. This was where Lord Aldric’s assistance could mean life or death for all in Aalstad. “I fear another kingdom might have fallen to this threat. An entire kingdom led by a member of the order, and what they want is war.”
“Who?” The pupils in Lord Aldric’s silver eyes flashed vertical and animal for a second as the seriousness of the threat became clear, then he was back to his usual cool control.
“Lord Anion of Virhot came to me with a mating claim for my cousin, Lady Silva, the day after my father’s Mourning.” Fedryc spat out the name like it could poison his mouth. “I refused him.”
“She is too young.” Lord Aldric frowned. “She is only seventeen.”
“That is what I told him but he refused to hear reason.” Fedryc couldn’t contain the rage that poured out of his pores at the memory of Lord Anion claiming his cousin. “Then, a week ago, I was sent a message at the border of our two kingdoms.”
He brought out the picture from the folds of his leather jacket.
“A hundred mixed-bloods and their families. Murdered and displayed as a message to me. The mark of evil burned on their skins.” Fedryc felt the beast push inside him and somewhere out in the distant desert, Nyra screeched. “This was a message to me. To my Draekarra and all the mixed-blood children coming from the union of a Draekon and a human.”
“Virhot is a rich kingdom with ties to many others throughout this continent.”
Fedryc nodded sharply. “Aalstad cannot stand alone against enemies united under the Knat-Kanassis banner. And if we fall, there is no telling how far this war will spread.”
Lord Aldric inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring like he was smelling a particularly foul odor. “You want Katanie’s help if war is declared.”
“Yes.” Fedryc took a step forward, coming closer to to the High Lord of Katanie. “But I want more than that. If war is declared, I want Marielle to be sent far away from here. I want you to offer asylum to my Draekarra and my aunt and cousin.
“Asylum will be granted.” Lord Aldric inclined his head coldly. “But that will be only a temporary solution should Aalstad fall.”
“Then Aalstad cannot fall.” Fedryc spoke harshly, biting out his words as he faced the cool façade of the Lord of Katanie. They were opposites, he and Aldric, but they had something in common that ran deeper than a fiery temper and frozen reserve. “You of all High Lords know we can’t afford to lose two kingdoms to the Knat-Kanassis. Not with an heir of mixed blood and a human Draekarra of your own.”
“I have three children and a human Draekarra.” Lord Aldric corrected coldly. “You are right. Katanie will not let Aalstad fall to the Knat-Kanassis. We will respond if we are needed, but let me give you a piece of advice I was given by Lord Emeril Fyr.”
Fedryc waited as the familiar name was spoken, along with the familiar horror now associated with him.
“The snake in your house is never who you think it is.”
With that, Lord Aldric gestured to his white dragon. Rhyl swooped down and in one practiced jump, Lord Aldric held on to his dragon’s talons, then made his way up to the saddle on the dragon’s neck as the beast took flight.
Fedryc watched the Lord of Katanie disappear in the desert sky as Nyra flew back from where she had been sent for the meeting. He was not out of danger, but at least he had an ally.
“My Lord Fedryc!” A young servant girl whose name he did not know ran toward him, waving and screaming. “You have to come immediately. It’s Lady Marielle!”
Chapter 17
As soon as the words reached him, Fedryc’s legs moved of their own accord. He left the girl and her words behind, not caring about hearing more. All his focus was on Marielle. He ran, turning the corners sharply, leaving stunned-looking guards and servants behind in his hurry.
Not her. Please not her.
Fedryc had never been truly scared. Not when his father had ignored him, hidden under the desk in his office. Not when he was sent to the Emperor castle as a ward like a throwaway pet. Not when he’d trained thirteen hours a day with Nyra and his hands bled from holding a sword that was too heavy for him. Not even when he’d found himself the new High Lord of a kingdom he had never seen.
But he was scared now.
Marielle wasn’t the most important thing in his life. She was his life. Without her, nothing mattered. Aalstad, his aunt, his cousin, not even Henron or Nyra. Not the threat of the Knat-Kanassis. Marielle mattered like nothing else had ever mattered in his empty, lonely existence, and as his feet covered the long distance to his private apartments, where he’d left her a few hours ago, his mind was so focused on her that he shut everything else out.
All he could see was Marielle’s face, Marielle’s body, wearing the same painful stillness as Asha, the poor servant girl.
Finally, Fedryc arrived in front of the closed door to his private apartments and shoved it open, sending the wood to splinter across the space.
“Fedryc!” Marielle’s eyes were wide and glassy and her hands were covered in red as she clutched a small pouch to her chest.
Behind her stood Silva in a blood-stained golden gown, her face ashen and fearful.
“You betrayed me!” Marielle turned on Silva, her eyes accusing and her anger showing on her pale cheeks. “You told me you would help me!”
“I am sorry,” Silva pleaded, her face twisted with regret. “But you’re not seeing things clearly. I had to do something.”
Silva turned her eyes to Fedryc but he rushed past her and came to stand over Marielle, his mind in shock at the blood on her hands, her gown.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, taking Marielle’s hands away from the pouch forcefully, turning them over and around, inspecting every inch of them. “This is not your blood.”
“You have to let me leave.” Marielle clutched his hands, seemingly unaware of the growl that escaped his lips. “I need to get to the desert.”
“What are you talking about?” Fedryc snarled as Marielle jerked her hands free and made a move toward the door. With a single step he put his body between her and the door.
“I tried to reason with her!” Silva said with an exasperated opening of her arms. “She won’t listen.”
Fedryc looked down as
Marielle tried to walk around him to the door, her face showing she was lost inside some nightmare he didn’t understand. He looked down to the pouch she hugged so closely.
“What’s in that bag, Marielle?” He controlled his voice, and Marielle slowly lost the glaze in her eyes to look at him with a fear that tore at the core of his being. She opened her mouth to speak but only a pitiful whimper escaped her lips. Her hands trembled as she handed the pouch to Fedryc, who took it, wary of what he would find inside.
He opened the bloodstained pouch then immediately understood. “I am so sorry.” He opened his arms and pulled Marielle in.
“No!” Marielle fought his hold, pushing him away with both hands. “I’m going to meet Ignio Marula, and you can’t stop me!”
A desperate anger flared inside him at the wild defiance in her eyes. She was serious. How could she think he would allow that?
“Yes, I can!” Fedryc spoke through clenched teeth, all too aware of Silva’s quiet presence in the room. “I forbid you to go anywhere apart from these very rooms!”
“Try and stop me.” Marielle lifted her dainty chin, her gray eyes dark and blazing with an anger that was borne of love and worry, just as his own.
He growled again, low in his throat, a sound as deep as his fear of seeing Marielle come to harm. The beast pushed inside him, straining against his control, wanting nothing more than to bend his mate in total domination.
Because he loved her. For the first time in his life, he loved a person who wasn’t Nyra, or Henron. And the thought of losing her filled him with a terror he couldn’t name.
But if he forced her hand now, if he followed the beast’s blind instinct to dominate and protect, he would hurt her deeply. Deeper than their relationship would recover from.
Fedryc stopped the growl in his throat and controlled his instincts, forcing calm back down his limbs. “Ignio Marula sent you this so you would run after Devan, unprotected.” This time when he reached for her, Marielle didn’t move, but the despair brimming in her eyes tore his guts apart. “He’s working for them, for the Knat-Kanassis, and Devan is their only leverage to get to you. And if they get to you, they get to me and all of Aalstad will fall. Thousands will die.”