Apostate: Forbidden Things

by Nikki Mccormack

  “It seems you’re now at my mercy,” his eyes lit with mischief.

  “In more ways than you know,” she breathed, inviting him with a smile. She shivered with pleasure at his touch and he kissed her again, harder this time, his hands moving aside her robe to seek out her bare skin in the darkness.

  •

  He drew her hand to his lips and kissed the fingers, drawing her up from satisfied slumber.

  “Where’s your ring?”

  Myac. A chill swept through her. She pressed herself against him, trying to cling to the lingering remnants of drowsy bliss.

  “Someone took it when I was unconscious after I brought the Grey Army’s barrier down.”

  Anger stung her extended ascard senses and flickered across the link. He set her hand back on his chest. Then his fingers traced her jaw and stopped at her chin, turning her face so he could look into her eyes.

  “Who took it?”

  She sighed, lamenting the loss of the sated calm that now slipped away from her. “Is Myac in Lyra?”

  His muscles tensed against her. “He did return. He came to the palace in disguise and spoke to Lord Terral. Apparently, he went out searching for you, assuming he would find me wherever he found you. He hasn’t been heard from since he left here. We found evidence that he’d clashed with the Grey army at one point, but no sign of him after that.”

  “Lord Terral knew it was him?”

  “Lord Terral is his father.”

  She lifted up on her elbow to gaze down at him, making no effort to hide her surprise.

  A grimace tightened his features. “Myac planned to get rid of me and put his father, and ultimately himself, on the throne.”

  She sensed reluctance in him. There was more to the story, but she would have to trust that he would tell her if it was important. “I believe he was the one who took the ring.”

  “Why wouldn’t he have killed you?”

  “Perhaps the arrival of the Kudaness interrupted him,” she said, though there was probably more to it than that. He had tried to seduce her in Demin, perhaps there was some sincerity to his efforts, and she had freed him from the Grey adept. Maybe there had been some honest feeling behind his attempted seduction or perhaps simple gratitude for his freedom stayed his hand.

  The most disturbing thing about it all was that she could have learned to care for the man she thought he was in Demin. Never could she have loved Edan as she did Yiloch, but a lesser kind of love perhaps. Myac on the other hand. She couldn’t love him, but the weaving of their power to bring down the barriers had been intoxicating beyond anything she had ever experienced. He was right. They were similar in some ways. There was no reason to trouble anyone else with such thoughts, however.

  Yiloch pulled her close, a hint of protective fear flickering across the link as he kissed the tattoo on her cheek. She shifted away, meeting his eyes.

  “Does the tattoo…”

  He cut her off with a finger to her lips. “You are beautiful. You are exotic and strong, and you possess a charm that no one can seem to resist. This…” he ran a finger over the tattoo so lightly it tickled, “…is a physical representation of those traits, one you should wear with pride. I love every inch of you.”

  He held her eyes and his fingers moved down her body. When they reached the area just below her ribs, she writhed and laughed. Grabbing his hands, she straddled him, pinning his wrists over his head and lowering her lips to his.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  She kissed him hungrily and felt his body respond to her. With a wicked smile, she backed away a bit, licking his lips teasingly with the tip of her tongue while she held him down with a touch of power. Then she opened their link more, letting him feel her desire. His erection became hard against her and she moved herself onto him.

  •

  Sometime later she woke on her own, her body pressed close against him. She was content, laying there in his arms. Even the pang of guilt she felt over Lady Auryl wasn’t enough to drive her away, but dawn would be upon them soon. There were important things they still needed to discuss, preferably without succumbing to other desires this time.

  His hand moved to caress her cheek and he kissed her forehead.

  “Good, you’re awake,” she murmured.

  His hand returned to his side. “That sounds ominous.” His tone had turned wary now.

  She searched out his hand and brought it up to her lips, kissing each finger in turn before pressing it against her cheek. She closed her eyes for a moment to fight back the sting of tears.

  “I must leave in the morning.”

  He shifted, moving her head gently from his chest to the pillow then lifted up on his elbow to peer down at her this time. “Why? You’re here now. Stay.”

  She sighed and lit a nearby candle with a flick of ascard power then sat up, facing him cross-legged on the bed, all the while finding it remotely interesting that her nakedness didn’t bother her in front of him. “I have to go back to Caithin.”

  “No. I won’t let you go back. I can’t protect you there.”

  “You mean I can’t protect you if I’m there.” She gave him an indulgent smile, hoping to remind him how doubtful it was that he could stop her from doing what she wanted. His dark scowl told her she had succeeded.

  “Then I’ll ask you again. Why? You know they’ll arrest you. Stay in Yiroth and send Lord Theron to deal with the High Council.” When she opened her mouth to argue, he added, “You’re the Kudaness ambassador to Lyra, you can’t just abandon your position here.”

  She could only stare at him for almost a minute, trying to figure out if he was being serious. When his somber look didn’t change, she gave a small shake of her head. “Suac Chozai should have discussed that with me. Regardless, Caithin will not rest until someone pays for the death of the former king and his family. I don’t think Theron alone will be able to convince them. I can persuade Serivar to confess and I think I can get Caplin to side with me. Those things in addition to Theron’s assessment should be enough to clear both of our names.”

  “You’ve risked far too much for me already. Stay here. Adran and Ian can go to Caithin with Lord Theron to help clear things up.”

  “They don’t have the information I have or the knowledge needed to motivate Serivar,” she protested.

  “Tell them what they need to know.”

  “What would I do here?”

  “Lyra needs healers, Indigo. Who better to train them?”

  The suppressed ache within her, the longing for somewhere to belong, expanded into a searing flame. She could do what he asked. Teaching healers and acting as a representative of the Kudaness, with those things she could belong here. It would also allow her to remain close to Yiloch. It was so tempting. Then again, it might be more than she could bear to see him, to be near him every day, and not be able to have him. It would not be fair to any of them, Lady Auryl especially.

  She kissed him, leaning into him so he had to lay back on the bed. His hand took hold of her arm, pulling her down with him. How she wanted to give in and be with him once more. With a delicate touch of ascard, she eased him back into sleep, feeling his lips relax against hers, his hand dropping to his side. When he was in a deep slumber, she climbed out of the bed. It would have been nice to linger a little longer, but she had an idea and very little time to act upon it. She would need Ian’s help though.

  With a brief search, she found her robe lying on the far side of the bed. Wrapping it snug around her, she poked her head out the door to see if anyone was around. A tiny squeal of surprise escaped her when she came face to face with Ian. His eyes widened then a knowing smirk flitted across his features before he managed to school it away. She did her best to ignore his obvious pleasure at seeing her emerge from Yiloch’s rooms. There were other, more important things on which to focus.

  “Ian,” she whispered, reaching out with her ability to search for any who might overhear them. “I was about to go looking for you
.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “How…” She trailed off, realizing that she had unintentionally projected her need of him through their link. With a flush of embarrassment, she wondered what else he might have felt through that link. “Oh. I’m so sorry, Ian.”

  “Please, don’t be. I can think of few people I’d rather be summoned by at this hour of the morning,” he said, his curious expression offering no insight on how much else he had felt.

  She laughed softly and clicked the door closed. Taking his wrist, she started down the hall, probing ahead for anyone. Ian followed along without question, even mimicking her stealthy poise so that it began to feel like a child’s game, sneaking through the halls after hours, trying not to wake their parents. Back in the room, her things still lay on the bed, the bed itself, unused. She drew the ring Yiloch had given back to her in the desert out of her packs. It still hung on the chain he had worn around his neck for so long.

  She cradled it in her palm, aware that Ian was watching her with a reverent intensity. She remembered the moment Yiloch had first taken it from her. He slipped it from her finger in his prison, her engagement ring, and she made no protest. So much had changed since she met him. What a storm he had created in her life. Her fiancé, who had given her this ring, was dead by her hand. Perhaps it had been justified self-defense, perhaps not, but neither option made him any less dead or made her feel any better about it. The ring was hers though, and she would give it back to Yiloch now infused with protections like the ring he had given her. This way, even if she died, she could still help him and be with him in some way.

  Swallowing the knot in her throat, she glanced at Ian. “I would like you to help me place some protections in this.”

  Ian lifted the chain, letting the ring dangle before his eyes. He smiled. “Like the one we did for you. I would gladly do this for you, my lady, especially if it’s to his benefit. He seems to attract trouble almost as much as you do.”

  She smiled, pushing a wash of affection through their link. Ian blushed and focused pointedly on the ring dangling from his fingers.

  “What kinds of protections were you wanting?”

  She proceeded to explain what she wanted to do and they pooled their considerable power into the work. When it was done, she thanked him and left him with a fond kiss on the cheek. She returned to Yiloch’s chambers, using a touch of power to hold him in sleep. She placed the chain around his neck, laying the ring on his chest where it had rested once before, and touched her lips to his in a light kiss. That done, she invaded his wardrobe and took one of his mother’s simpler dresses that still hung there. He’d given her another once, so she knew it would fit.

  Once dressed, she kissed him a last time and slipped away. The effect of her power would fade when she was far enough away and he would wake refreshed. Refreshed and furious with her for leaving him this way, but she couldn’t allow him to talk her out of it or try to stop her some way. There was too much at stake if they didn’t clear things up with Caithin quickly. Caithin could easily declare war if they continued to believe Yiloch was behind the assassinations. Lyra couldn’t withstand such a war right now. The information she had was the key to clearing Yiloch’s name. It was time to make his innocence known and make the guilty parties pay for their crimes.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Sleep released Yiloch, easing him up to the light of a bright sunrise. He’d slept hard after his evening with Indigo. Not surprising since they had burned every ounce of energy they had left. He smiled at the memory. If she would only see sense and stay with him in the palace where she would be safe.

  Prepared to start the battle fresh, he rolled over in the bed to find that he was alone.

  In seconds he was on his feet, surprised to find the old familiar weight of her ring, absent since he had pulled it off in the Caithin Serroc prison, bumping against his chest. It was changed. He could feel that immediately and didn’t doubt that she had intended for him to notice the protections woven into it.

  That could only mean one thing. She was gone. Not just gone from his bed, but gone from Yiroth as well. The ring was a gift of apology, a token of her love to assuage him. He remembered their last words, discussing her future, trying to convince her not to go back to the den of wolves that waited across the Gilded Straight. His last recollection was her warm kiss igniting a surge of arousal, and then sleep had come over him. It hadn’t been a natural sleep either. She had used her healing skills to sedate him so she could depart unchallenged.

  He threw on clothes, not bothering with attendants, and stormed through the palace, worry feeding into his anger. How could she have gone? How could she have manipulated him that way? She hadn’t even given him a chance to insist on sending someone with her at least, for her protection. She hadn’t even bid him farewell, not in a traditional sense at least.

  Lord Theron would have gone with her. He wanted to curse the man for encouraging her rash behavior, but they both knew how stubborn she could be when she put her mind to something and Theron would at least try to keep her safe.

  A young guard danced out of his path in the hall and bowed, wary of the intensity in his manner, and Yiloch made himself nod in acknowledgement. These were his men. No matter how crazy Indigo might make him, he needed to treat them well.

  He almost stopped to question the youth, someone had to know something, but she wouldn’t have confided in a stranger. She might have told Ian or Adran of her plans, perhaps Auryl whom she was apparently having extended conversations with now.

  He stopped in his tracks when he spotted Theron walking down the hall in the company of a servant. When the other man saw him, he frowned.

  “Emperor Yiloch. When I couldn’t find Indigo, I was worried that she might have gone to be with you. Now, I must confess, I am suddenly more afraid that you’re going to tell me she isn’t with you.”

  Yiloch reigned in his temper. Theron was not at fault if Indigo had chosen to leave him out of her plans. “She was with me. She snuck away sometime in the night and I have a feeling she’s headed back to Caithin.”

  The furrows in Theron’s brow deepened. “I must get back there before something happens to her. I don’t suppose there’s any chance of you coming along to your defense?”

  “I’ll send Lord Adran with the next merchant ship. I can’t risk leaving here right now. There’s still the Grey Army to contend with and the damage done to my country and my people needs my attention.”

  Theron nodded, an unexpected sympathy softening his expression. “I understand. I’ll gather my things and head out immediately. As soon as I find her, I will send word to you and begin laying the groundwork for your defense.”

  “Just take care of her,” Yiloch said.

  “Consider it done, my lord.” Theron bowed deep before hurrying off toward the rooms he had been assigned.

  Fiddling with the ring that hung at his neck, Yiloch probed the protections in it to the best of his ability. One thing was certain, Ian’s signature was in that work, which meant Ian would have more insight on when she had left. Stretching his ability to it limit, he finally came upon the young creator in the courtyard near the barracks. On his way, he searched for Adran with the same ability, but wherever his friend was, it was out of his range.

  Outside, he found Ian talking to a woman he recognized as the creator, Terea, who had first noticed Indigo’s presence in the Grey Army’s barrier. Ian’s gaze passed over Yiloch, then snapped back to him and locked there. His shoulders sank and the heavy exhale of resignation confirmed that he knew something.

  “I need to speak with you,” Yiloch growled, barely controlling the frustration and worry building up within him.

  Ian dismissed Terea with an apologetic smile and fell into step with him as he started back toward the palace entrance. They had taken only a few strides together when he heard Hax calling after him. Yiloch stopped and forced himself to wait while she trotted over to them. She looked weary, as if she hadn’t ta
ken a moment to rest since the Grey Army first arrived. He would have to insist that she do so or she would go until she collapsed.

  “My lord, I thought you might like an update.”

  So much going on and I’ve let Indigo distract me from my duties once again. He nodded. “Go on.”

  “I’ve set up a temporary encampment outside the gates to house the overflow of prisoners. We have several linguists working to understand their language so that we might come to some kind of accord, but it’s going slowly. Their hierarchy is complex, but the new leader is a youth called Ini-jnai. He’s a shrewd individual and cold, but he seems to be encouraging a few of those who appear to be captains to try and communicate. Captain Paulin is overseeing the guarding of the prisoners in the camp right now. Captain Leryc has a crew of laborers working on clearing out the destroyed wall so we can rebuild and Lord Terral has another crew assessing damage in the city.”

  Yiloch found his mood lifting as she spoke. Despite his injuries and the distraction of Indigo, things were moving along as they should. Part of being an effective leader was selecting the right people to serve under you. There was no doubt in his mind at this point that she had been the perfect choice to take Commander Dalce’s place. He found a smile for her. “I could ask for no better. You’ve done very well. Thank you, Commander Hax.”

  “Thank you, my lord. It’s good to see you up and about so soon after the injuries you sustained. I was a little worried you would bleed out before the surgeons got to you.”

  “Yes. Indigo finished the healing before she up and vanished again,” he said, a hint of irritation coming through in his tone. “What’s become of Adran?”

  “The last I heard of him he’d gone down to the docks yesterday afternoon to deal with some captains in need of recompense. I haven’t seen or heard from him since.” Hax looked askance at Ian who shrugged.