“What exactly did your brother tell you?”
“He wants to leash you.” She didn’t even recognize her voice, all heavy and sultry. She paced faster, trying to ignore him and deny the fire he stirred with that heavy-lidded look in his eyes. “He wants me to mark you, and so I cannot. I will protect you.”
“I don’t need your protection, azharana.” Zahak growled, the low rumble thrumming her spine. “I want your mark upon me. I need it. You don’t want my status to lower in the eyes of my warriors, do you? They’ll think you’re unhappy and dissatisfied with me if I don’t wear your teeth marks. They’ll think I’m unable to stir your uncontrollable passion.”
She made a sound of choked desperation.
“Do you, azharana? When I’m inside you, giving you pleasure, do you feel the urge to bite me? Or is the idea repugnant?”
“No,” she breathed raggedly. “I do, but...”
“Then come here and let me stir my Fire in you.”
“My brother...”
“Forget him.” Zahak snapped like a whip. “Do you doubt my ability to protect you from any and every one who threatens?”
“No! But Darius...”
“You do. You don’t believe I can defeat him.”
“You haven’t seen anything as bad as Darius in a rage.” Her voice broke and she shivered, her skin crawling. She pictured the horrible glint in Darius’s eyes, and her lover trapped, chained, at her brother’s mercy. Her stomach pitched and she fought not to throw up.
Immediately, Zahak took her in his arms. “Ishtay, azharana. Nothing is going to happen to me. I forget that you’re not raised Keldari. You’ve never seen me fight. You don’t know how truly vicious I can be.”
She mumbled against his chest. “Not as vicious as my brother. He’s a serpent, poisonous, foul, tainted. You...”
“And I’m a dragon,” Zahak interrupted. “I eat other serpents for dinner and then hunt a few Mamba warriors for dessert.”
He held her, his hands smoothing her hair, her back. Shivering, she stood in his embrace, mute, afraid, and aching with need so badly she wanted to weep. Tilting her head aside, he dipped down and brushed his mouth over the scar in her throat. His mark blazed in her flesh like a brand. Fire pulsed through her, drawing a harsh cry from her. He swept his tongue back and forth over his mark, and her knees trembled, weakened, until she sagged against him.
Nibbling and licking, he kissed Fire into her skin. The scar burned, searing straight to her heart. He slid a hand behind her head, cradling her face against his chest, overwhelming her with his scent, his heat, his strength.
Her mouth watered. His skin was hot velvet against her lips, smoky spice and tight muscle. She ached to mark him, burned to taste his spicy blood again and feel that incredible heat and strength pouring into her.
“Do you know why I’ve never allowed myself to love anything?” She rubbed her face restlessly against him, fighting her own need. Her blood felt hot and thick in her veins, her skin too tight, her face flushed, as though his dragon surged inside her. “Because Darius would torment whatever I loved and then kill it.”
“He shall not torment you ever again.”
Tears sizzled her cheeks like acid.
“Please, Eleni. If you have any love in your heart for me, I beg you to mark me. Some day, I pray you will Give yourself to me, repeating the oath I gave to you. Then, azharana, nothing shall ever keep us apart, not even death.”
Not even death. Those words rang in her soul, giving her hope she’d never had before. Could their love truly be safe from Darius? Safe from death?
“Iyeh,” Zahak whispered in her ear. “Mark me. Love me. Give your heart in exchange for mine. When one heart ceases to beat, so will the other. We’ll fly the night skies and dance in the light of Somma’s moon forever.”
Lips trembling, she kissed his skin. Darius’s threats and dark promises echoed in her mind, warring with her burning desire. Zahak shook against her, his excitement and longing urgent in her mouth. She grazed him with her teeth and he groaned harshly, his fingers convulsing about the nape of her neck. What would it be like to bite him, to feel him shuddering his pleasure into her body while she drank down his blood?
Above the crashing sea, a rumble of thunder rolled over Keldar. The Wall trembled beneath their feet. Zahak jerked his head up, scanning the horizon.
It was darker than before, like a great light had gone out all over the world. Banked by clouds, the moon disappeared from the midnight sky.
“What is it?“
A blast knocked Eleni stumbling backwards. He tumbled with her, using his body to shield her, the scimitar in his hand. On the ground, people shouted, asking what was happening. She had no idea. A storm? Water tossed and sprayed below, but there wasn’t any rain.
Dread crawled up her spine. Her teeth chattered, but sweat trickled between her breasts and down her back. Her scalp burned as though she’d fallen into a smithy’s furnace.
Rhythmic thunder. That’s what it sounded like. Or…flapping wings.
A thrumming call vibrated through the ground, small rocks rolling, the massive Wall shimmering beneath her feet. Her bones and ears ached. A huge shape darkened the waters. A ship? She didn’t see sails, but the sound, the flapping…
A red-robed priest seized her arm, his fingers digging into her flesh like claws. She jerked away, closer to Zahak.
Amin stood with the priest, his eyes feverish and shining in the darkness. “What color? Is it Agni?”
“No flames.” The priest whispered in a moaning voice that sent goose bumps racing down her arms. “It’s not Agni.” He turned mournful eyes to her. Why? She didn’t understand their Trinity’s prophesies and dreadful judgment. “Shadow lives and breathes in Keldar once more.”
The dark shape soared over the Wall, another blast of wind and sound knocking the watchers to the packed top. Grit blowing in her eyes, she caught only a glimpse of monstrous wings against the sky, blackest against black, glittering eyes and claws like obsidian. With another roar, the beast disappeared into Keldar.
People screamed; warriors shouted; weapons clashed.
Zahak threw her up on her trembling, sweating horse. “Mambas attack in the wake of Yama’s arrival, and they accuse us of having too much black blood!”
They hurried down the steep ramp as quickly as they dared. Dazed, Eleni concentrated on her horse’s footing, but she felt sick. Images of the huge dragon tore through her mind, twisting her thoughts to Shadow, Darius, her tainted blood. She heard her brother’s dark, silky laughter in her skull. Was it her imagination? Or was he somehow tied to that horrible beast that had just flown overhead?
Zahak waved his hand back to the southwest. “Go to my tent!”
Then he was gone, rushing to his men with the scimitar in one hand and a short blade in the other. Black-robed warriors fought and ran everywhere, staggering back and forth, falling. Bodies littered the ground.
Her stomach churned, burning and queasy, and she regretted the large cup of Fire Tea she’d drunk. Her head felt stuffed with cotton. Where was his tent? She glanced in the direction he’d gone, then back to the dark shapes against the wall, the tents, she guessed. Numbly, she knew she couldn’t recognize which tent was his.
Her mind roiled: Darius. Was that dragon somehow her fault?
Someone took her horse’s lead, slipping a rope beneath the mare’s chin in her halter. In the darkness, Eleni couldn’t tell who. Harry jerked into a trot after the other horse, jarring her out of her confused fog.
They were going in the wrong direction. They were headed back out into the desert.
Amin hated her. What if...
Terror screamed through her, raking claws up and down her spine. “Who are you?”
The man glanced back at her a moment and she caught a glimpse of his face in the moonlight. Not Amin, but Malum. Her shoulders sagged with relief. The man was Zahak’s friend.
Then the horses moved into a canter out into the dunes.
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“Why aren’t you helping your saif? The battle—”
“Be quiet,” he growled, reining his horse back beside hers. He reached for her with a length of rope in his hands.
Slamming her elbow back into his face, she kicked her horse. “Harry, go! Go!”
The rangy mare’s ears flickered back and forth but her pace didn’t change. Malum cursed beneath his breath, seized her wrist in a punishing grip, and threw a loop around her other wrist so quickly she couldn’t jerk away.
The rope bit into her flesh. “What are you doing?”
“What he cannot.”
She couldn’t see where they were going, other than out to the desert, away from the Wall, away from Zahak. Her mind whirled with plots and questions. How could she get away when her stupid horse wouldn’t listen? When she had no idea where they were going? “Tell me, please, what does that mean?”
The man’s response was to drag her along faster than ever, the mare charging behind his mount.
Panic ate at her heart, a deep, sick feeling of loss and despair. :Zahak.:
:Azharana.: Instantly, he filled her mind, his senses alert and focused like bared steel. :Where are you?:
:Malum is taking me away from you.:
Rage flooded her, thick and red and hot. She heard a roar, whether in her head or real she couldn’t tell.
Malum flinched, his gaze flickering back to her. Eyes narrowed, he studied her, listening. “I can’t have you telling him. Not yet.”
“Then—”
His fist slammed against the back of her head. Pain exploded. She fought to stay conscious, to stay with Zahak, but darkness closed.
Darius waited in darkness.
NINE
Bright. Hot. Pain.
Eleni cracked open an eye against the blazing sun. She tried to get up, but her arms and legs wouldn’t move. She couldn’t, she saw, when she lifted her head. She was staked out on the sand, face down, her arms stretched out on either side of her and tied so tightly she couldn’t feel her fingers, or her toes.
Naked.
Fire blazed up and down her back and thighs. She must have been out here for quite some time. She tried to tell how far the sun was in the sky, but from this angle, she couldn’t estimate the time of day.
Listening for anyone who might be about, she tried to remember what had happened. It returned to her in pieces: the black dragon soaring over the wall, the battle, Malum taking her away. She tried to call out, but her throat was as dry as the sand beneath her. She flicked her thick tongue across her dry, cracked lips. She’d been out here a while, then, to be so thirsty.
Her head splintered, images slamming into her. Zahak, his shadowed, hollowed face in the moonlight, his need for her to mark him. In their last moment together, she’d refused him. Her reasons seemed so paltry and foolish now. If she’d known she would never see him again, that she’d die before nightfall, then she would have marked him a dozen times, her brother be damned.
Concentrating, she willed the pain away and tried to reach out to him. He didn’t answer. Couldn’t? Was it pain blocking her, or was he gone, hurt or…dead?
Hearing her own panting, wheezing cries, she deliberately calmed her breathing. She strained her neck, raising her head as much as possible to scan the area. A cliff of some sort rose a few feet away. Nothing looked familiar, but then she could have walked right past Zahak’s tent as easily without distinguishing it.
The ground vibrated beneath her cheek. She listened, her heart hammering so loudly it took several moments before she could make out hoof beats. A horse! She tried to call out, but her voice croaked.
:Zahak!:
Something rustled, shifting from out of her line of sight. A man, and without the cloak pulled up around his head, she recognized him: Malum. Deliberately out of her line of sight, the bastard had stood there, watching her roast in the heat.
Rage poured through her, stealing her breath. She struggled, yanking at the bonds tying her, ignoring the pain in her wrists and ankles.
She heard a voice, one she also recognized although she couldn’t understand the words. Amin squatted down beside her, tilting his head and smiling an odd, crooked smile that curdled her stomach. He let his gaze travel down the length of her body, and there was nothing she could do. “Hmmm, seems as though the little munakura has quite the sunburn. What do you think, Malum? Will she survive until the dragon rouses at dusk? Or will she already be dead when he eats her?”
“Is that what you plan?” Her derision was clear, even through the husky tones of her voice, but her stomach quivered and clutched with dread at the thought of a dragon ripping her limb from limb. She shuddered, forcing herself to concentrate on reading Amin. “Why? Don’t you want to be azi? You heard your priests. You’ll need me.”
“I don’t need you, woman. The priests don’t tell us everything, but dreams do. I’ve dreamed the answer to our problem, not Shaddad’Agni. That old fool knows nothing.”
She remembered the fear in Amin’s eyes, his adamant refusals in the tent. “What has he told you?”
Amin jerked to his feet, his pacing stirring up enough dust that she coughed. “Nothing you will live to hear.”
“Shadow speaks in dreams, Amin.”
He turned milk pale, his hands clenching into fists.
Ah, she was right. “Does the Shadow whisper to you, Amin? Does it whisper to kill your brother before he can take your place? That your brother plots against you? You know it’s a lie. Zahak would have died for you.”
“Shut your filthy mouth!” Amin howled, striding toward her. He reared back to kick her in the head, but Malum knocked him back. Furious, Amin turned on him, but the other man stared at him dispassionately.
“You have no weapon, tal. I’m your saif’s right hand. Do you really want to dance the blades with me? I’ll be pleased to provide you with a scimitar.”
“She’s going to die anyway,” Amin muttered, backing down. His face flooded red, sweat beading his upper lip. “Better she die now before Zahak awakens, assuming that he ever does, that is.”
“What did you do to him?” She searched Amin’s face, fear clutching her heart. Her neck ached, straining to keep her head up so she could see him. “Is he hurt?”
That same brittle smile twisted Malum’s face. “Our saif will kill the Black Dragon for you, isn’t that right, tal? Only, I wonder how you knew He’d be black and not red when you told me to take her.”
Amin stalked out of her sight, but she heard him cursing beneath his breath. Malum squatted down and poured water into his cupped hand, holding it beneath her mouth. She averted her face, but he didn’t withdraw.
“I won’t allow you to die, if you but cooperate with me.” He pitched his voice low so the other man didn’t hear. “I won’t let tal hurt you.”
“But the dragon...”
“He’s sleeping for hours yet. I pray saif will arrive early, but I don’t know how badly his brother injured him.”
“Why?” She wanted to cry, tears thick in her throat, choking her, but she didn’t have enough liquid in her body. It would be stupid not to drink and buy herself as much time as possible. She was not stupid. Eleni drank, greedily, slurping water from the traitor’s hand like a horse. He filled his palm again and again, letting her drink her fill of the warm, stale liquid. “Why did you do this?”
“I did what he could not.”
Which made no sense to her.“Who, Amin?”
“La,” Malum growled, shaking his head. “He’s a fool. The only reason he lives yet is because he’s saif’s brother, and none dares face Zahak’s wrath.”
“Then why?”
“Saif will be forced to kill his brother to protect you.”
She struggled to understand Malum’s reasoning. “But he’ll kill you too.”
“Iyeh.”Malum actually grinned. “It’ll be worth it, though, to get rid of his brother. The Cobras will have the best tal, who will go on to become azi, with you at his side.”
“You’re crazy. I’ve never heard such a stupid plan before in my entire life.”
Malum laughed softly and moved away. “Welcome to Keldar.”
* * *
Zahak tried to sit up and his head exploded. He remembered the battle, Mambas attacking, but then nothing but blackness, and now, this pain. A hand pushed him back, low murmurs soothing, but panic raged through him, tearing at his heart and soul. It wasn’t her hand. She wasn’t here. “Eleni!”
“Ishtay, saif. You took a severe blow to the head; you’ve been unconscious for hours.”
Blinking fiercely, he focused on the priest. His skull throbbed with every beat of his heart. Another memory stabbed through his aching skull. His brother coming to him, the urgency on his face, one whispered word. Eleni. Whirling toward his tent, he’d taken a step, then a crushing blow to his head. “Where is she?”
“She’s gone, saif.”
He closed his eyes, his chest banded with agony. His voice broke. “Is she alive?”
“You would know if she were not.”
Forcing himself to calm his breathing, he concentrated on her shining midnight eyes, her quiet, calm pride, her fragile jasmine scent. Thoughts splintered, pain slicing like shards of shale, but he could feel her.
Her relief flooded him. :Blessed Lady, you’re alive!:
:Azharana.: He strained harder, trying to reach her. Well of sands, she must be a hard, long ride away. :As soon as I can ride, I’ll come for you.:
:You’re hurt.: Her gentle spirit flowed through him, and he swore he felt her hand on his forehead. The connection strengthened enough for him to see what the jackals had done to her.
She was chained face down in the sand. Her naked back was burned from hours in the cruel sun, split skin leaking blood every time she moved.
Rage choked him and his heart thundered, making the pain in his head worse. He pushed up and nearly vomited. The tent rolled crazily, and Shaddad’Agni forced him to lay back. For a moment, he couldn’t reach her bond through the fogging pain.
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