[Kingdom 01.0 - 03.0] Kingdom Series Collection

by Jovee Winters

  “I did fight a wolf. But not that one.” She frowned, covering Marika’s fingers and stilling them for the moment. “Why am I here? Who is that man?”

  Marika’s full lips turned down into a frown. “You mean he did not tell you? Surely, the Shunned--”

  She shook her head. “No, my aunt told me nothing. And to be fair,” she rolled her eyes, “I didn’t really give him much chance to either. I was kind of busy trying to slice him into a bloody ribbon when Kermani found us.”

  Marika’s lips twitched as her fingers resumed a more gentle lathering. “I don’t know much, daughter. But I overhead Kermani talking with Sherbia the second, that the wolf is your transport to the Black witch’s keep.”

  Twisting around--state of undress forgotten--Violet gripped Marika’s wrist. “Why? Why him? Why am I going to Malvena’s--”

  Marika shook her head, placing a finger against Violet’s lips. “Hush, daughter. It was a secret I was not supposed to know, sadly I know no more. Now hush.”

  Grabbing Violet’s shoulders she turned her around, and didn’t utter another word, quickly bathing her and then pointing to a folded red sheet upon the pale woven mat beside the spring. “Do you know how to dress in the Hadashek style?”

  Violet shook her head, wringing the water from her shoulder length hair.

  Marika grabbed the jonquil fold at her waist and unwrapped--what had at first appeared to be a dress--from off her body. Violet looked quickly away from the large boned Marika who was surprisingly firm given her size.

  “Nudity means nothing to us here, were it not for the flesh eating power of the sand, my people would walk nude constantly. Now watch so you may learn,” her voice was patient, but carried an edge of annoyance.

  “Well I’m not used to it. I hope you plan to give that wolf clothes too.”

  Marika chuckled and her large breasts bounced with the movement. Violet desperately wanted to look away again, but trained her eye on Marika’s face and ignored the rest.

  “He has a fine body. Surely you’ve noticed. Much better than my Kermani,” she quickly touched her breast, “though I would never claim so to him.”

  “I don’t think he does. He’s disgusting.”

  A sly smile curved the corner of her full lips, coal rimmed eyes narrowed with a knowing glint. “Have you never known the touch of a man?” Then her fingers briefly touched his bite and she winced. “Ah, but you have. Haven’t you?”

  She clenched her jaw. “I don’t want his touch.”

  Marika’s fingers toyed with the bite, fingers fluttering softer than she’d thought them capable over the bump. “A wolf’s mark. He’s claimed you as mate. I hear the bite is better than sex.”

  She shuddered, remembering how she’d felt every cell in her body flaring to life, as if they would splinter apart with pleasure. “He had no right to do it.”

  “A wolf cannot claim what is not his. The fact that you bear the mark means you belong to him.”

  “I belong to myself,” Violet pounded her chest.

  “As you say.” Marika lifted a brow and then proceeded to show Violet how to wrap the cloth around her so that it looked like the dress she’d thought it was earlier.

  Getting out of the water, she dried off with the large white puff ball Marika handed her. It felt like cotton, but much more absorbent. Anywhere the white fluff touched it sucked up the water. Clumsy fingers tried to do what Marika had made look so simple. The beautiful fabric hung on her like a large sack.

  Marika gave a throaty chuckle and soft shake, her fat curls bounced becomingly around her head. Frustrated, Violet threw out her hands and those nimble fingers of Marika worked their magic once more.

  “You’re quite a bit smaller than myself,” Marika muttered, “must fatten you up.”

  There was a large swath of fabric at her neck, eyeing it with a frown, the large woman snapped her fingers and then gathered it and lifted it to cover her head like a hood.

  “Come look.”

  Leading Violet to the back of the steaming room she paused before a smooth black rock that gleamed with light from the inside out. The moment Violet stepped in front of it, she gasped. The rock became a mirror and she could hardly believe she was the same plain Violet.

  Marika’s eyes glinted. “Do you never age, Heartsong?”

  She shook her head. “No. I’ve been stuck at this age for a long time.”

  Sun burnished skin touched her pale cheeks. “You’re a woman, look like one.”

  “I don’t know…”

  Grabbing a blunt piece of black rock, Marika brought it to her face. “Close your eyes,” she ordered. Something smooth and soft brushed against her eyelids, and then Marika said, “perfect.”

  The liner gave her a smoky eye effect, making her look much older and more like a woman than she’d ever thought possible. She smiled, admiring the long line of her neck and column of her throat, seeing her image like it was the first time. Violet smiled softly.

  “His heart will stop when he sees you.”

  Her jaw jutted out and she turned her back to the rock. It didn’t matter how many times she screamed that that man was not her mate, Marika would insist he was. Whatever. She hadn’t learned much, but if he was leading her to Malvena’s keep, then she had a purpose and a direction. Kill the witch, and all the wolves. Including him. She’d find a way around that spell he’d placed on her.

  Bowing, Marika smiled.

  “It was my pleasure to serve you.” Then she turned on her heels, as if she planned to leave.

  “Wait.” Violet rushed up to her elbow. “Where are you going? Are you leaving me?”

  “Sherbia will come to get you for dinner. Relax,” she pointed to the pillows beside the rock mirror. Then she was gone, leaving Violet with her thoughts.

  The dress and makeup was beautiful, but why did they insist on pampering her, dressing her up like some doll. For what? To whore herself out to the wolf? Kermani? She shuddered. Goddess forbid.

  She plopped onto a large turquoise pillow and plucked at the hem of her dress. Wiggling her toes, she felt suddenly ridiculous, and missed the comforting weight of her knife.

  Why hadn’t Aunt Mir told her the truth? In all the years she’d traveled with her, she’d never known her aunt to be anything but loving. So why the secrecy? Where was her aunt now?

  And why him? Why would her aunt send her with the wolf as a guide? She knew, Aunt Mir knew her hatred of the wolves. She was there that night when two had slaughtered her grandmother. Aunt Mir had nursed her back to life, given her a loving home to heal in.

  Her aunt wasn’t a stupid woman, or even naïve.

  Growling, she yanked the bit of charcoal off the counter Marika had used to paint her eyes with and began aimlessly doodling on the ground.

  Violet licked her lips, not really looking at what she drew. There had to be an answer. Something she was overlooking. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, aimlessly drawing, when she finally heard another voice.

  “Daughter?” A gentle sound, much more timid than Marika’s, intruded into her thoughts.

  A beautiful woman stepped in, draped in dark greens and gold, she jingled from the gold chain around her waist as she walked. A golden stud adorned her nose and ink black hair fell in soft waves around slim shoulders.

  For a brief moment, Violet experienced a swift pang of jealousy. Large eyes narrowed with fear, and then the woman dipped her head, never looking back at her.

  Her reaction was strange and Violet frowned. Surely the woman wasn’t afraid of her.

  “My name is Sherbia,” the dulcet voice whispered, “you are to come to dinner.”

  “Okay,” she said slowly, unsure of protocol. Violet dropped the charcoal and stood. “My name is Violet,” she thrust out her hand.

  “I know who you are. Follow me,” Sherbia said, and turned, leaving Violet to stare at her back in bewilderment.

  Confused, she glanced down at her feet for a second and finally saw what she’d
drawn on the red rock floor.

  The Big Bad Wolf, and the eyes staring back at her were a beautiful almond shape.

  Chapter 37

  Ewan growled, tearing into the thin baked bread with animal aggression. She was beautiful. Gorgeous, and draped in red silk, so reminiscent of that night. And she wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t return an answer to a simple question.

  She was all that was kindness to their host, but him… he might as well not exist.

  Pale blond hair peeked out of the hood, heating his blood, making him angry with need and desire. She felt it too, he’d seen it her glance earlier. Red wanted his body as much as he wanted hers.

  Incense curled a sinuous path through the cozy stone room. Candles and lanterns spun light everywhere.

  “Do you not like the food, daughter?” The one named Marika leaned in to whisper in Violet’s ear.

  She’d not done much other than pick at her food, pushing the red curried lentils from side to side with her wedge of flat bread. She smiled and shook her head. “I do. Very spicy. Good. Just not very hungry.”

  Marika patted her arm with a motherly smile.

  Kermani lifted a brow and shoved the last bit of stewed meat into his mouth. “Dancing, that is what we need.”

  He reclined back, stomach bulging, and clapped his hands. Children entered from a side door, they scampered around, collecting the empty serving bowls.

  “Bring my hookah,” Kermani commanded a wide eyed youngster, nodding, she jogged back toward the silk partition and disappeared once more within its voluminous fold.

  Ewan licked his fingers and then downed a large tumbler of water, drinking slowly of its coolness to help take the sting of heat off his tongue. Sweat trickled down his neck.

  “The lamb was delicious, I thank ye,” Ewan clipped his head, grateful for their host’s hospitality. He’d been washed by two maidens, dressed in a strange wrap below the waist, and fed until he’d gorged.

  He’d worried Violet might take offense at the thought of strange women bathing him, but it’d only been a passing thought. The chit hated him. T’was fairly obvious to him she’d not come willingly or eager to his bed. Clenching his jaw, his stomach fluttered recalling the hard press of the blade against his bollocks. She’d meant to do it; he’d seen it in her eyes. Inhaling sharply he wondered how he’d get through to her.

  Looking at her, he felt anger and grief. It shouldn’t be this way. She was laughing, blue eyes twinkling at something Marika said. If only he could have been there for her that night, held her and nurtured her back to health, things would be so different now.

  “Have you had a moment to read the scroll I gave you earlier, wolf?” Kermani asked as the small child laid a gilded silver hookah before them. Reaching out, the slight man grabbed one hose and handed him another.

  “Sheesha?” he asked, shaking the hose at him.

  Ewan had smoked a time or two with Jinni and never found the taste appealing, but he took the tube and nodded. “A little.”

  Kermani inhaled and reclined back once more, a look of contemplation drawn across his brows. “Have you read the scrolls yet?”

  His countenance and voice were modulated, polite. But a greedy gleam burned like flame in his dark brown eyes.

  Ewan shook his head, pulling in a small amount of the perfumed tobacco. There was a taste of ripe cherries, slightly bitter and astringent on his tongue, but better than the stuff Jinni forced him to inhale.

  The scrolls Kermani referred to were the ones he’d handed Ewan the moment Violet had been taken to the bath. His second set of directions from Miriam, and though curiosity burned him, he wanted to study the document at his leisure. “Nay,” he said around a puff of water laced smoke.

  “How many stops have you?”

  Something about the way the slight man asked gave Ewan pause. Rather than answer directly he shrugged and said, “several.”

  “Ah.” Kermani nodded, rubbing his jaw, eyes glinting with something akin to fascination. “Indeed.”

  Talk ceased after that as a troop of women covered in sheer red and purple gauzy linens entered the room, heralded by the sounds of bells attached at their hips and ankles. Their laughter was effervescent as they swished and swayed, moving with the casual grace of a jungle predator. A seduction meant to tease, but nothing more.

  Ewan glanced at Violet and this time, she was looking at him. Cold, violent hate glittering in the depths of ice blue eyes.

  Grabbing his forehead, Ewan leaned back against the cold wall of his room. Again there were nothing but pillows scattered everywhere. A thin, rough mat would serve as his bed. He looked at the weathered scroll beside his foot.

  Kermani had insisted he’d not read the letter, but, something about the way he’d asked with that avaricious gleam in his eyes made Ewan wonder.

  Where was she? Soon after the dancing ended, Violet had been spirited away, and save for that one moment when she’d glared at him with unconcealed hatred, she’d never acknowledged him.

  “Bloody hell,” he growled rubbing at the ache spreading through his left temple.

  Maybe he’d imagined it all, Kermani’s look and Violet’s distaste.

  He snorted, she was safe and his mate. The rest would come with time, for now, he must focus on the task at hand, seeing her safely to Malvena’s castle.

  Breaking the wax seal with his thumb, Ewan opened the scroll. It was blank. Flipping it over, he was shocked to notice it was blank also.

  “What is this?”

  The moment the words left his lips the scroll flew from his hands, hanging suspended before his face. Pearlescent light danced across its surface and then Miriam’s soft voice filled his room with a distant echo.

  “Greetings, my wolf. I am happy to know ye’ve made it safely to the thief’s den. A word of caution before I proceed, trust no one. Tell nothing of your trek. We can all be bought for a price. Kermani is a good man, but caution is always best…”

  Frowning, Ewan glanced around. There were no doors, but he was all alone, in a separate section of the underground home. Kermani had thought it indecent to allow him to sleep too close to his harem.

  He licked his lips.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell ye more before, there was no time. I hope ye’ve destroyed the map I gave ye earlier, there are spies everywhere. Dani and I will travel a circuitous route, our hope is to arrive at the same time ye do with Violet. Ye and the girl will travel by dream stone, I’ve hidden them along the way. Press the stone and a portal will open to yer next location. Do not engage Malvena until we have arrived. Violet is strong, but she is young and untried. I did my best and raised her with all the love I could…”

  The scurry of feet caught his attention; he glanced down to notice a mouse scuttling through a small hole in the wall opposite. Hyper aware and sensitive to his surroundings, he prayed Miriam’s message would be brief.

  “It is time to tell ye of yer mate, of the darkness that keeps her soul captive…”

  Like a fist had punched through his heart, he sat up straighter, desperate to learn more.

  “She was conceived of dark magic, as I’m sure Dani told ye by now,” the voice turned distant and thoughtful, “perhaps it was wrong, to keep her naïve of her past. But it was the only way I knew to nurture the hate. Ye see, her magic cannot be worked through good. She is powerful, very powerful, but it is only through hate that her magic can work. So I let her hate ye. For that, I’m sorry…”

  His jaw clenched so tight, his molars began to ache.

  “But I would do it again, if I had to. She is the key to Malvena’s undoing. Only she can stop the Black. Violet’s power can take many forms, some benign and useful, but most dark and terrifying. I doubt she knows most of what she can do. But her truest power and darkest art, is that she is an eater of souls. It is within her to devour the very essence of the divine...”

  Brows lowering, he glanced back at the curtained door, gripped by a powerful urge to seek her out and hold
her. His fingers clenched.

  “I’ve followed her for years out on her treks, many of which she didn’t know. I can say that she’s only just discovered herself; her knowledge of what she can do is still very much in its infancy. That is why I’ve set up a test at yer next location. She must engage and defeat Hansel and Gretel’s witch.”

  Blood spilled on his tongue and he winced, only realizing he’d been chewing on it. Breathing heavy, clenching his hands, on the verge of violence he attempted to slow his pulse by taking deep breaths.

  “I’m aware ye must not like that, but it is the only way. We haven’t much time to train her, ye canna help her defeat the witch. But once she has, ye must extract the soul from her body. Ye are her mate, and that is yer duty…”

  “Duty,” he snarled. Why hadn’t the damn fairies remembered that in the first place? Surely there was another way to harness her power than by forcing her hatred of him to grow like a slow malignant cancer. But the voice did not stop speaking.

  “Let instinct guide ye, ye’ll know what to do when the time comes.” He could almost picture the smile in her voice now. “You are her perfect mate, and more than able to bring her back from the blackness I was forced to allow to fester. That is why the time is now; she is still at the brink, able to be redeemed. If Jana did one thing, it was to show Violet true love in the beginning. The child of darkness was brought up in light.”

  He spat, Jana had tried to kill Violet. She’d done nothing good, and he for one was glad he’d butchered her traitorous body.

  “Though we both know now she kept Violet in a happy state to suppress her powers so that killing her would be simple, in the end the lesson was learned. Violet is capable of love. She remembers the emotions and yearns for it again. If anyone can drag her back from becoming a monster of legend, it is ye. Her powers have been channeled, now refocus that hate, and she can be won. If however…”

  He sucked in a breath, gut clenching, knowing instinctively he would not like what she was about to say.