by Lynn Carmer
“You did not mention this.” His voice cut toward the beauty.
“She then removed my drudge. Addy is mine. The Predominant ruined the ceremony; it may need to be postponed…” The princess sighed, allowing the smallest touch of regret in her voice.
Nine hells, yes! She would be postponing that ceremony—permanently. She is mine.
The king stepped forward, and Arun’s blood boiled. If he lays one hand on her—
His eyesight blinked out for a second, then returned. Damn it! He had to learn to control this power. It sucked him dry, making him stronger in some ways but much weaker in others.
How can I save her if I can’t see?
“No! No, my Daughter. There will be no postponement. The ceremony must continue, especially after the initial delay. I will deal with you later,” he said to the beauty with the red scarf and turned to leave.
“My Lord, please. That’s not true. It had nothing to do with the ceremony. She was…” The woman half crouched, begging the king to acknowledge her. Arun saw not one flicker of sympathy on her father’s face.
Cutting her off with a wave of her hand, the princess said, “Do you question me? She is a fit Predominant, Majesty?”
An odd tension existed between father and daughter. Both were stoic, but this was something more, a live wire of a power struggle was unfolding before his eyes, and it all seemed to center on the woman with the red scarf.
“Perhaps she should be punished.” His mate reached out, fingering the silky material of the red scar. The look in the princess’s eyes was green fire. Finally, he saw a spark of the woman who’d worshiped him with her hands. Had she looked like that when she’d fondled him? Barely able to stifle a moan, he felt the power ratchet up.
“While you punish her, Father, please explain to her that Addy is mine. And if she touches her, ever, for whatever reason, I will kill her.” With the last words she looked her father dead in the face. She turned and then called out. “I go now to prepare, again, for the ceremony.” Walking toward Addy without waiting to be dismissed.
She has fire! His erection jumped in his pants.
A great booming trumpet blasted across the courtyard. The guards. Guess he hadn’t incinerated all of them. Clenching his fists, he watched the princess cross the room, trying to protect the crying servant while the king ran for his life, leaving everyone, including his own daughter, far behind.
Coward!
About a dozen guards stumbled in, they must have been the least injured of the first group he’d pulverized. Weighing the position of the princess and the guards, he realized there was no way to grab her without exposing himself.
He bellowed out a war cry, and the group of guards stopped in their tracks. The concrete jarred his frozen feet, making his teeth chatter as he flew across the courtyard. He swooped toward the princess with one hand, pulling her in close, and his heart broke at her small cry. He knew he’d hurt her, remembering the shards of glass buried in her skin, but there was no way around it.
Barbarians. These people deserve to die.
“No! I helped you! Don’t—”
He shot her a look filled with all the banked fire he felt for her as he ran for the door. “We have unfinished business.”
“Let me go. Let me go!”
“No.”
“I will never forgive you for this! I—”
Muttering to himself as he shifted her weight, he said, “Yeah, well, get in line.”
“No, wait. Addy.”
“Princess Caprice! Oh gods, please don’t hurt her!” The small servant called from the corner.
Arun felt the wooden bindings under her clothing; it must have been cutting into her ribs because she gasped for breath. “Just let me… Must tell… I must…”
“Make it quick, sweetheart. You’ve got about two seconds before we hit the door out of this hellhole.”
“Addy! Run!” Her voice wasn’t more than a whispered wheeze. “Stay away from the Pre-Dom and the king. Please…be safe.” With one last gasp she went limp, fainting from her constricted airway, or maybe the pain. Her last thought had been for her servant, someone she had just called her property, but maybe she truly cared for the girl. His Princess—Caprice, he corrected himself—might have a heart under all that ice after all.
With a curse, he doubled back. He knew the servant hadn’t heard a damn word. Startling the stampeding guards, he wove his way through tapestries and temporary chairs that had been placed in the courtyard, no doubt for the slave auction. “Addy!” he yelled, startling the young woman.
The servant reached forward as if he planned to place the princess in her arms.
“Run.” He whizzed past, spying a new exit in the far corner of the courtyard.
“No, I can’t—”
“Her last words: stay away from the Pre-Dom and the king. Now do it!”
She cried out but finally took his advice, disappearing from sight as he rounded the corner. He went straight through an open door. He remembered this hallway. It was the same one they brought him through after they’d captured him.
Cradling the princess in his arms, he tried to lesson the impact of his mad dash through the corridor, her body jerking with each pounding step. Almost thankful she’d fainted, he risked a quick glance down. A fissure of fear broke through his heart. What if it was more than fainting? What if she was really hurt? With just that tiny thought, the energy slammed back, swirling through his body, constantly trying to escape the confines of muscle and skin. It wanted out, and somehow the strange power was connected to Caprice.
Breaking through a back door, he slammed against a solid wall of cold. He tried to ignore the subzero temperatures, but the cold seeped under his skin, frosting his bones, making his blood feel as if it congealed, and slowed down his heart. One foot in front of the other, using pure will to make it through the arctic blast, he spotted a row of small sleds that were lined up next to larger carriages equipped with runners rather than wheels. In a split second, he chose the medium sled, offering up silent thanks to the gods for rigging the transportation with six dogs already at attention and ready to go. He jumped in with the princess in his arms.
The feel of her cheek against his own, along with her scent ratcheted up the new power within himself. The fervor was on him and his cock sprang to life; he was desperate to be inside of her. The energy swirled, starting in his chest and racing down his arms and legs. He knew what was coming. His passion for the princess was building and soon he would go blind.
I only have seconds.
Grabbing the whips, he gazed toward the mountain, looking for the dip that looked like a saddle on a horse, found it, and pointed the dogs in the right direction. They lurched toward the mountain range, the dogs running at a mad pace. The energy hit, and everything went black.
Chapter 10
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“Wake up. Princess. Wake up!”
Someone was stabbing her with a knife—no, with twenty knives. They felt as if they simultaneously gouged her, in and then out, sending her body reeling and then settling again and again, minute after minute. Trying to avoid the pain, Caprice floated between wakefulness and sleep. If that stupid man would just stop his screaming, she might be able to drift away from the pain.
“Caprice, so help me, if you do not open your eyes and steer this damn sled, I will return to your castle and burn the bloody ice cube down. From the ground up! Then I will take that pretty servant you’re so fond of…”
Pretty servant? Addy? She snapped her eyes open. Nothing but endless white met her gaze. A glowing warmth ran down her side while freezing wind whipped against her cheeks. Bunches of her dress were caught in front of her, and after she dug her way through she realized half a dozen sled dogs ran full speed toward a dead end cliff only a few hundred yards in front of them.
“What the—Give me the reins, you idiot! Don’t you see the signs? The road ends; it’s a straight drop!” Grabbing at his hands, she felt for the reins, came up empty
and finally looked over at her hulking captor. He sat, looking ahead, eyes blank and pure white.
“Oh gods, you’re blind again, aren’t you?” The words whispered just above the breeze.
He sat with clenched fists. “I lost my grip on the reins.”
“What?” Digging further between the suffocating satin of her gown, she spied the reins dragging in between the dogs just below her feet. Bracing herself on the back of the sled, she tried to turn around. “I see them. If I can just—”
“Where? Below our feet?”
“Yes, just below, but they’re scraping on the ground, just by the dogs’ paws. If I could just…” Turning, she felt strong hands grip her waist and pull her out of her seat. She was floating in the air, hovering above the racing dogs. The air whooshed out of her lungs. A scream escaped that she couldn’t bite back. His large hands bit into her waist, causing the bone girdle to ram into her skin. The torture only increased with each bump of the sled.
“I know you hurt. I would never hurt you intentionally, but we have to act fast. Grab the reins now! Before it’s too late.” The depth of his voice helped to soothe the pain, or was it the electric current that warmed her through the material?
Teetering like a seesaw, her only anchor the hands around her waist, she reached down and almost toppled over, her momentum dragging her head down and her feet forward over her back. His sheer strength kept her steady, and she tried once, failed, then finally grasped the leathery ropes.
“Pull me back!” Icy winds snatched her words, but the giant slammed her back next to him.
Am I too late? Looking up, she saw the edge of the road. Pulling the reins sharply to the right, the dogs toppled, one set running over the next, their paws sliding on the icy tundra on either side of the road. The Giant slammed into her side, and she almost lost consciousness again when his weight dug the shards in deeper. Holding the reins in a fierce grip, she kept angling the dogs, digging her feet in for leverage and pulling with all her might.
The dogs found purchase and didn’t slow, their chests heaving and tongues panting. Great tufts of white billowed from their mouths, and Caprice realized she was outside, in the freezing cold, with no protection, not even the cover of a carriage.
“Look to the mountain range. Do you see the saddle, the dip between the highest peaks? Head that way.”
“But where will we go? We’ll freeze to death in the next hour. We can’t—”
“Just do it.” His voice boomed, and she recoiled and pulled at the dogs, moving them toward the mountain range. The Giant stood, and she opened her mouth to blast him when she noticed he wasn’t paying any attention to her. His head was cocked to the side. “Nine hells.” Just behind them, tiny dots grew in size, and she saw the guards pursuing them. How were there even any alive left to give chase?
Their sleds were smaller, sleeker, and much faster. In no time they were close enough for her to see their armor. He growled, tensed, and steadied himself with one hand gripping the back of their seats. Smoke rose from his palms. Glancing quickly to the left, she realized he was burning the wood.
They were close to the base of the mountain. The dogs still ran full speed. “We’re here. What should I do now?”
“Stop.”
Thank the gods. Whistling, two sharp commands, the beasts slowed, ready to collapse. They were bred for endurance not speed. “How did you even know I could drive this thing? And how did you see them behind us?”
“I didn’t. I heard them. Get down!”
The guards pulled up short, three sleds with two men per vehicle. Shivers wracked her body and a faint humming tickled her ears. “My gods!”
The Giant glowed. A silvery white swirled around his torso and then coalesced in his hands. Current jumped from one palm to the other, making small tapping and frizzing sounds. Before she could utter a word, he flung his hands forward and a band of light as powerful as lightning flew from his palms toward the guards.
The bolts sparked and blew out the front of the sleds; they toppled over, landing atop the armed men. The attack only lasted seconds, but it was enough. Blackened bodies undulated, shivered, twitched, and stilled.
Bile crept up her throat. “What have you done?” she whispered. “What have you done, what have you done?”
He stood on shaky legs, his head thrown back. She imagined he remained standing by will alone. He looked exhausted, as if the surge of energy had sapped him of strength. With blinking eyes that had returned to brown, the whites as red as the irises, he said, “We are safe.”
“Those men, they were my guards. They were trying to protect me.”
“They tried to take you away from me. That will never happen.”
“They were keeping me safe. From you!” She couldn’t stop staring at his eyes. “I take it you can see again. Your eyes have returned to brown.”
He paused and examined every inch of her face, the intensity of his perusal answered her better than any words could. “Step down from the sled. We walk from here.” He moved to grab her arm and then stopped. “If you don’t want me to touch your skin, walk on your own. Don’t make the mistake of running.”
He kept gazing at the sky, the inky black of night lightened with the beginning of the day. She pulled back slightly, feeling vulnerable about being exposed to the sun, her people avoiding warmth instinctively.
Stepping from the sled, her adrenaline started to fade, and the biting cold surrounded her, making her skin ache. The man had officially lost his mind, “Run? Run where? We are miles from the castle, trapped in the tundra. If we don’t return now, we’ll die. Are you even listening to me? What are you looking for?”
“This.” Reaching behind a ragged outcrop of rocks, he pulled out a leather pack. He let out a cry—the shout of joy bouncing off the mountain and echoing around them. He pulled out a journal, kissed it and then shoved it back into his pack. “We might just make it out of here, Princess.”
Not pausing to explain further, he continued to watch the sky while sprinting forward, searching the sky, then sprinting again. Muttering things like, “…the exit point must differ from the entrance point.”
The repetition made her crazy as she felt death coming for her with each breath, the cold making it difficult to inhale. Her years of training to repress every emotion, to curb her impulses to lash out, were crumbling.
Turning toward her with a satisfied smirk on his face, he said, “It’s here. Let’s go.”
Before her, a swirling mass of white smoke grew and stretched, running along the floor, perfectly mimicking the color of the rock and snow it hovered above. It was strangely beautiful and wholly terrifying. “What is that?”
“The Bicullis.”
Memories swirled of golden hair and warmth, a feminine voice telling tales of a magical portal that could transport people between kingdoms. The images made her uncomfortable, and as soon as she tried to focus too closely, they floated away, just out of reach. Her heart ached in a strange way. Her mother. It was a rare memory of her mother. “That’s a myth.”
“That’s what I used to think. We only have minutes. We must step through just as the sun rises.”
“Where does it lead?”
Running a hand through his hair, he replied, “My home. Princess, I can’t explain it now; I don’t have the time. Once we get there, you’ll understand everything. I’ve promised not to hurt you, and you’ll have to trust that I won’t, but I have to get back.”
“Just as you have to go, I have to stay. Surely you understand?”
“Go back? To what? A father who tortures you, coats your skin with glass. Who sells people? It’s sickening!”
The comment was like an ice pick to the heart. She could not defend her father. Everything he had said was true. But she did have responsibilities. Addy! They would kill her if she wasn’t there to protect her. “Good or bad, this is my life. I have people to care for. People I love.”
“People? Like who? Your fiancé?” he sneered.
Storming toward her, his bronze shoulders looking impossibly broad against the white backdrop, he said, “You don’t want him.”
“I’ve waited to be in a man’s arms my whole life.” The truth of her words hung between them, and despite everything he’d done, the thought I wish it were you, ghosted through her mind.
For a split second she thought she saw pain flash across his eyes. Gritting his teeth, he charged. Before she could react, he placed his hands on her face and sealed their mouths together. His lips, moist and full, almost kept her from noticing the freefall; the momentum sent them careening, tumbling over and through the mist of cloud.
Her body felt tight, stretched, pulled inside out, then nothing.
Chapter 11
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The pain in Anona’s arm throbbed, making her fingers swell, but she knew not to struggle. Going limp wasn’t an option either, so she just tried to stay neutral, following where the king led. The strength in his hand as it gripped her bicep wasn’t a surprise; hurting her seemed to be a favorite pastime of his.
He led them up to his private quarters and sent one of his personal attendants to summon the Prince. She’d never set foot in his bedchambers before and she looked around, once again disappointed in the muted colors and sparse adornments. The bed lay in a larger room beyond the sitting area.
The king threw her against a low settee upholstered in the lightest blue with fine yellow stitching. Sitting up slowly, she waited. He had his back turned to her, his shoulders tight, his head bent low. His fury was a living, breathing thing in the room. Again she marveled at a people who claimed to maintain control over their emotions, yet felt no shame in expressing the most powerful of them all, anger. She’d seen many of the royals seething and petulant when they didn’t get their way, yet they claimed to have hearts of ice.