His blunt, straight-forward answer surprised her. “And if you had to choose again?”
“You are where you should be—with the man of your choosing.”
She bristled with his sanctimonious response, fully prepared to fling her own views at him—that her choices became limited as well, once he had decided to leave. But she held back as she removed herself from the emotional side of the discussion to see the situation for what it was.
There was no possible way Kael loved her the way she thought he had. Cared for her, certainly, but not loved. If he had, he would have stayed, especially knowing they would have had at least two more years together. Even longer—though he did not know it at the time—since her choice to be with Merivic was simply that…her choice. She would not have made such a decision if Kael had remained.
What was done, was done. There was nothing that could change the past now. She had Merivic, and Kael…
Merivic’s words rang loudly in her head. He is far from lonely.
Anya cast a sidelong stare at Kael’s fine physique, and was instantly jealous of anyone who was granted intimate access to it. The surge of heat accompanying the thought had her averting her gaze. But she could not stop the flush of color creeping up her neck.
What has happened to my life? she questioned, pressing her palms into her eyes. Between Merivic’s whirlwind romance, the long journey, the dangerous men, her frightening predicament, and now Kael...
Her head began to swim, her frame swaying for a moment as little white pin-pricks of light danced behind her lids. Strong, rough hands clamped down on her shoulders.
“I will see you to your quarters.”
Anya nodded, allowing Kael to turn her toward the door before shrugging off his grip. “I am fine. I am simply tired.”
She held herself in check as she followed Kael up to the second level, trying to pay attention as they turned through the maze of halls. However, it took so much concentration to hold herself steady that she soon lost track, and by the time they arrived at her room, she was completely turned around.
“Good night,” Kael stated, then gestured to the last door they passed. “My quarters are next to yours, so I am close, should you need me during the night.”
Anya tipped her head and arched a brow, losing herself in the depths of his familiar blue eyes.
What a peculiar thing to say, she thought.
Kael appeared flustered as he amended his statement. “Should you require protection from…something.” He cleared his throat as he composed himself, his voice turning hard and his eyes growing cold. “Your husband thought it best.”
“My future husband,” she corrected, an exasperated edge to her tone.
“Same thing.”
Anya sighed, barely keeping control as she slipped into her room and gently closed the door behind her.
The moment she was alone, her thoughts and emotions flew into a flurry, a blinding blizzard in her mind, whiting out all reason. Pacing the length of the room, she fought hard to regain her bearings.
Chapter 18
Merivic descended the winding stone stairway into the lower levels of the castle—‘the bowels of the kingdom’ according to Malik. This was where the cleric spent most of his time, though Merivic could not honestly understand why he would want to.
At the landing, Merivic pulled a lit torch out of a wrought-iron sconce on the wall and held it high to light his way down the darkened corridor. It was deathly silent as he began walking but soon heard the distant steady trickle of water running down the cold, stone walls—no doubt a contributing factor to the damp chill in the confined space. The air was so saturated Merivic was almost surprised the fire did not sizzle as he made his way to the door at the end of the long hall.
He glanced behind him to ensure his solitude as he slid the torch into an empty sconce, then shoved the thick wooden door open. The moment he stepped into the room, the moisture evaporated. He didn’t know if it was all the lit candles drying out the air or some sort of protection barrier, nor did he particularly care. It was simply something he noticed.
“Sire?” Malik looked up from a scroll as he raised his brow. “I thought you were spending the duration of the evening with Lady Anya. There is nothing wrong, is there?”
“No, no. I had a matter to attend to,” he explained, sauntering to Malik’s position at the parchment-covered table to peer over his shoulder. “That being addressed, I am merely giving her time to become reacquainted with Kaelestis.”
Malik released the scroll, allowing it to roll shut as he stood with his back to the lord. “You left them alone? Together?”
Though Merivic could not see the stress in Malik’s face, he heard it in his voice. “Is there a reason I should not?”
“Of course not.” Malik composed himself and turned. “I just thought it odd you would not be with them.”
Merivic meandered to a high shelf across the cluttered room and studied the various bottles as he responded, “You have no need to worry about Kaelestis. He will protect Anya well.”
“He will, as I have already foretold. He would put himself in harm’s way before he would risk her safety.”
Merivic plucked a brown bottle off the shelf and popped the cork. Malik strode over as he smelled the contents and scrunched up his nose.
“Do not touch that,” Malik scolded, snatching the container from his hands.
Merivic—eyes shining with amusement—shrugged and strolled to another shelf, completely missing the condescending eye roll Malik shot behind his back.
“Are you seeing to the preparations for my union?” He picked up a green-colored crystal, tossing it lightly in the air as he turned to Malik.
“Of course,” he snarled, catching the crystal mid-air and placing it carefully back in its place.
Merivic stepped over to the table and picked up a vial. “Is there anything more you need from me?”
“No, I have everything I need.” He scowled. “Do be careful with that.”
Pinching the ends of the container, Merivic held it up and peered at the glowing purple liquid. “You recall when I spoke of the tiger? Anya’s tiger?”
“Yes, the one within the amulet. Her spiritual guardian.”
Merivic watched the purple liquid bubble as he shook it, noting Malik’s resulting cringe. “He can respond to her fear alone. I have witnessed it for myself this evening.”
A shadow passed over Malik’s face as he tapped a finger on his chin. “This concerns me.”
“I thought it might.” With a casual shrug, he curled his fingers around the vial. “However, it is good she has the extra security.”
Malik bowed his head as if agreeing with the lord, but even Merivic saw he was merely humoring him. Merivic tossed him the purple-filled container and it was easily caught. “Well, Malik. I believe I shall retire for the night.” He clapped a hand hard on his cleric’s back as he passed. “Do let me know if you need anything.”
“Yes, My Lord,” Malik muttered as he set the now-smoking vial onto the table and backed away a step, eyeing it warily.
Merivic used the torch to make his way back to the stairway and stationed it back on the wall before returning to the main level. Turning into the great hall, he was a bit disappointed to find it empty. Despite what he may have conveyed to Malik, he was hoping to spend time with Anya before she retired for the night.
He decided to have a brandy before turning in himself, but froze with his hand on the cabinet knob as an image blossomed in his mind—Anya in her red evening gown, filling it out with graceful lines and intriguing curves. It took barely a half-breath for him to decide to seek her out, and once he did, his heart thundered, pumping his body full of anticipation.
By the time he made it to her room, his boiling blood had lessened into a simmer, the flutter in his chest eased back into a quiver. He raised his fist to knock, but as he looked down to steady himself, he noticed no light being cast from under her door.
Merivic paused,
then laid his palm gently on the door. He pitched forward, resting his head on the back of his hand as he drove the thoughts of crawling into her bed from his mind. She had had a rather eventful day already, and he did not want to disturb her. Better to let her adjust to all the excitement and have a good night’s rest.
Lifting his head, he dragged his palm down the wood, then took his leave, deciding to have that brandy after all.
*****
Anya heard a noise on the other side of the door as she sat on the edge of her bed. Turning, she saw a shadow cutting into the light shining under her door. She knew who it was, sensed it with every part of her body, but she could not make her legs react. She had just spent a great deal of time calming her head. What would seeing Merivic do to it now? She needed space. She needed time to think.
No, she told herself, he is what I need. His comfort, his presence to put things into perspective, to provide the clarity of why I am here.
Anya lurched to her feet as she saw the shadow stepping away. Rushing across her grand room, she jerked open the door and stared into the empty hallway. She almost called out, but stopped herself, not wanting to awaken half the castle.
She stood in the open door, debating whether or not she should try to find him in the maze of corridors, but ultimately decided she would only get lost in the process. Defeated, she backed into her room as she began closing the door. Movement out of the corner of her eye stopped her, and she saw the servant from dinner come around the corner.
A jumble of thoughts tumbled through Anya’s head: She was at dinner. What was her name? Malik called her…Zabela. She can help me!
She nearly called out the servant’s name when she noticed her approach to Kael’s door. Curious now, Anya closed her own nearly all the way as she peered through the crack.
Zabela knocked on Kael’s door, then looked down at her dress. She tugged the swooping collar with a quick jerk, causing the tops of her breasts to swell over the top.
Anya’s pulse quickened as she put the pieces together, her belly twisting with jealousy.
Kael’s door flew open and there he stood—tall, brooding, and shirtless. He stared blankly at Zabela, then scowled as the sculpted muscles in his chest twitched.
Anya was positive she was about to witness him slamming the door in this woman’s face. His posture spoke of annoyance and his expression spoke of anger. But his actions spoke of lust as he grabbed her by the arm and yanked her inside. His door slammed shut and Anya heard a thud against it before closing her own door and using it as support.
Closing her eyes, she told herself that she was not allowed to be jealous of Zabela—Kael did not belong to her, and never had. Pushing off the door, she headed to bed and crawled under the covers, yanking them over her head. Though she knew it was impossible with the thick doors and even thicker walls, she could have sworn she could hear Kael with that other woman. She flipped the pillow out from under her head and pressed it tight against her ears, but it only caused her imagination to become more creative. She shuddered as she realized there was no escape from her thoughts. She knew herself well enough to know she would always be jealous of any woman Kael may have.
The pain and the grief she had long suppressed after Kael left came flooding back, everything she had held at bay and denied in the great hall overtook and abused her. She had thought she was over him, that she had moved onto a new life with Merivic. But the emotions swamping her now caused her to doubt much.
The tears came next. Not with a gentle start nor slow trickle, but with an unstoppable torrent that ripped sobs from her chest and tore at her soul. She let it all stream out—the confusion, anger and pain—and all while cursing the fates for their cruel tricks.
*****
Kael slammed the door and shoved Zabela against it, pressing hard against her as he ravished her neck. Her gasp of rough pleasure charged through his head as she arched into his touch, her breath quickening with an animalistic need. He grabbed and fondled her breasts, taking his frustrations out on the trembling flesh available to him. He would abuse and punish, demand and take. This he could have, this was right here.
But it was not what he wanted.
Anya’s face flashed in his mind—the joy in her bright eyes as she rushed toward him in the great hall, followed by the guarded hope when she had stopped short.
Kael jerked and pushed Zabela back at arm’s length, hanging his head down as he closed his eyes.
“What is it, Kaelestis?” Zabela reached for him, snaking her fingers around his neck.
He pulled away, gesturing toward the door. “You need to leave.”
She issued a short laugh as she stepped forward, but her mirth faded as she studied him. “You are denying me?”
Kael looked into her eyes and saw anger and wounded pride, but not hurt or heartbreak. She was there for one reason and one reason only, and it all became painfully clear to Kael. He rubbed his eyes as he turned. “Leave.”
An enraged huff sounded in the room before he heard the door swing open and slam shut.
He shook his head to clear the gathering fog. For nearly two years he had been involved with Zabela, a relationship built on physical needs and companionship, but never friendship or love.
He stared at the door, suddenly completely uninterested in anything she had to offer, and wondered why he ever was.
*****
Zabela stared at the door, hot and fuming in more ways than one. She had half a mind to storm back in and tear into him—verbally, physically, whatever it took. But instead, she turned on her heal and stormed down the stairs. As she was passing the great hall she saw Lord Merivic and stopped short.
“Lord Merivic,” she rushed into the room as he pulled his gaze from the fire. “I apologize, My Lord, I thought you had retired for the night.” She bowed her head respectfully.
“No need, Zabela. I actually had, but decided on another drink first.” He turned back to the blaze.
“Is there anything I can get you before I turn in?”
He gestured vaguely. “I could use a refill on my brandy.”
“As you wish, Sire.” She scurried over to the cabinet and pulled the bottle out.
“There is no hurry, Zabela.” Merivic noticed her rushed footsteps and was struck for a moment by her flushed and disheveled appearance.
Now, just where did you come from, he wondered with amusement as she poured his drink with smooth, yet flustered, movements.
She glanced to his watchful eye and smiled before turning to replace the bottle in the cabinet.
He watched her long stride and the sway of her hips as she retreated, struck again—and not for the first time—as to how much she had always reminded him of Anya. It was foolish, he knew, for hiring her based on that alone, but she turned out to be a rather competent servant. Besides, she brought Kaelestis happiness—something in which the dedicated weapons master deserved.
Zabela closed the cabinet doors, leaning her head to the side as she latched it secure, and Merivic’s gaze floated down the swan-like line of her throat. With an internal groan, he pointedly looked away. This was certainly not helping him take his mind off Anya. “You may go, Zabela.”
“Thank you, My Lord. Have a pleasant evening.”
He nodded and she took her leave. And as he swallowed the last of his brandy, Merivic resolved to go straight to his room with no further delays.
*****
“Malik?” Zabela called out, closing the door behind her.
Looking around, she quickly saw he was not there. She strode to the far side of the room, stopping only to examine a charred area on the table. Momentarily dismissing it, she stepped to the bookcase in the corner, swinging it away from the wall to reveal a shadowed tunnel. It took only five steps to reach the other end which opened into a huge chamber.
“There you are,” she stated, spotting Malik by the altar.
“And to what do I owe this pleasure?”
“What happened to your table out there?�
�� she jerked her thumb behind her as she strolled closer.
Malik’s expression soured as he turned his attention back to the scroll he had been reading. “Lord Merivic’s carelessness.”
She came to a stop by his side. “Thought you would like to know, Kaelestis denied me tonight.”
His gaze snapped to hers. “How is that possible?”
“You tell me.”
“And you slipped the potion in his dinner?”
“As always.” She leaned her back against the altar, resting her elbows upon it. “Maybe he has built a tolerance over the past couple of years.”
“Perhaps. Or perhaps not.”
“Maybe the spell wore off.”
“That is a very powerful spell.”
“There must be some explanation.” She shrugged, craning her neck to look down at the scroll.
“I will need to look into this and concoct a stronger one.”
Zabela eased her body between Malik and the altar. “Is it all truly necessary? If he is a threat to Lord Merivic’s ascension, why not get rid of him and be done with it?”
“Because Lord Merivic cannot ascend if he does not marry Lady Anya, and I have foreseen that Kaelestis is instrumental in preserving her safety. Therefore, I cannot be rid of Kaelestis without risking the girl, and yet I cannot have him around and risk him interfering with their union.”
She walked her fingers up his arms. “So why must I bed him? How does that help?”
“I do not know in what capacity he is a threat, and it was the only way I could foresee keeping him distracted from the union.”
Zabela ran her hands across his shoulders. “Maybe you should tell Merivic of the threat.”
“Never, he cannot know. He would have my head.”
She donned an exasperated expression as she cocked her head.
“All right,” he amended, “perhaps not my head, but he would be quite displeased by this. I told him Kaelestis was the proper choice.”
Zabela nodded as she slithered up against him, suddenly quite bored with the conversation. But she could tell Malik’s mind was still racing through it, even has he gripped her hips and yanked her close.
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