Azurene: Divine Seduction

by Adrianna Dane

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  AZURENE: DIVINE SEDUCTION

  by

  ADRIANNA DANE

  Amber Quill Press, LLC

  http://www.amberquill.com

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  Azurene: Divine Seduction

  An Amber Quill Press Book

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author's imagination, or have been used fictitiously.

  Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

  Amber Quill Press, LLC

  http://www.amberquill.com

  http://www.amberheat.com

  http://www.amber-allure.com

  All rights reserved.

  No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

  Copyright © 2007 by Dream Romantic Unlimited LLC

  ISBN 978-1-60272-157-9

  Cover Art © 2007 Trace Edward Zaber

  Layout and Formatting

  Provided by: Elemental Alchemy

  Published in the United States of America

  Also by Adrianna Dane

  Achilles' Charm

  The Argadian Heart Trilogy

  The Boy Next Door

  Breathless Peaks

  Carnal Carnivale

  Closing Time

  Come Into My Parlor

  The Diary Of Lillian Manchester, Book I: The Stranger

  Esmerelda's Secret

  The Exile: A Seductive Tale

  Fertility Rite

  Graphic Liaisons

  If You Dare...

  I Want

  Images Of Desire

  Immortal Treasure

  Jebediah's Promise

  Jewel Of Niveka

  Legend Of The Beesinger

  The Lion and The Rose

  As Well As...

  Mariposa Soul

  The Midas Bride

  Nights In White Satin

  No Choice

  Primal Magic: Scent

  Primal Magic: Swan's Lake

  Realm Of The Ice God

  Ruthless Acts

  Sequestered Passion

  Smooth Finish

  Sully's Heart

  Sylvie's Gift

  Tempt Me Not

  Therapy

  Train Me

  Vampyre Falls:

  Animal Heat

  A View To Possession

  Whisper

  Dedication

  Thanks to my publisher and my editors.

  Chapter 1

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  "Again, Elita. You were not properly prepared."

  "I was prepared," she responded as she raised her sword and resumed the stance, arm arced to defend, her eyes focused on Zane, ready for any change in his stance. The simplest flicker of a look in his eyes would alert her.

  "You lost your focus," he responded as he edged toward her, his own sword raised. "You are the one who wanted to learn the sword." Suddenly, he lunged forward.

  She saw it coming, swirled and feinted to the left, sword angled, the clash of steel on steel echoing within the circular tower walls.

  "Ha!" she yelled triumphantly.

  He pivoted away from her, whirled back around and lunged toward her again.

  She was quicker, lighter on her feet than he was. In this confrontation it was to her advantage. She vaulted to the table. He raced after her, and she saw the narrowed intent in his eyes to best her. She slid across the table, just as he landed squarely in the center.

  She screamed as the table collapsed beneath their combined weights and they both landed on the floor with remnants of the table scattered around them.

  "Kadin's hell," Zane roared.

  Elita couldn't help it, the laughter was like a huge bubble in her chest that erupted as she fell back against the floor.

  "I told you I would best you," she finally managed to gasp out. "It's all that good food your match feeds you. You are no longer as light on your feet as you once were, brother."

  He glared at her. "Bite your tongue, little one. Five feet nothing will not make you a master swordsman."

  Elita scrambled to her feet, hands planted on her narrow hips. She tossed her head back. "I can best you and any of our other brothers who might choose to challenge me."

  Zane slowly lifted to his feet. "Like they would. And that would be after they and our father beat me within an inch of my life for teaching you the sword as it is." His expression grew even more serious. "This will be the last time, Elita. You know the arrangements have been made."

  Elita strode across the room and plopped into a chair, thrust her long, red braid back over her shoulder and wiped the beads of sweat from her face. "I don't want this match. You know that. He will bind me to him like a possession. I've seen what has happened to my sisters. Do you think I want to end up like them?"

  Zane walked over and sat in the other chair, pulled a cloth from his back pocket and wiped at his face. "It is long past time for your match. You know that. Our father has found you a good mate. He is powerful and has the strength to protect you."

  Elita snorted. "I can protect myself."

  Zane leaned forward. "Our sisters are content in their matches. Not a one is dissatisfied with the arrangement. And the treaties signed have strengthened our father's position. But yours. This match with Lord Guardian Raoul Duarte is more important than all of them put together. You must know that. I have taught you everything that I have been taught about the tactical maneuvers, hand-to-hand engagement--everything a man must know to survive. And in doing so, we have broken the laws of our tribe."

  Elita jumped up from the chair and knelt before him, taking his large hands into her own. "You know I would never betray what you have taught me. I can't be like my sisters, I can't just bow to the will of a male. I am not of the same temperament as my sisters."

  "More's the pity. How I managed to let you talk me into these lessons, I still cannot comprehend. If our father ever finds out, it will be both our heads."

  Elita smiled up at him wickedly. "But he won't, I promise you that. Unless you tell him."

  Zane shook his head. "You are too outspoken, too independent. It will be the death of you before you are finished. And I will be responsible."

  "That won't happen. You have prepared me in ways that are priceless to me. You have helped to give me value beyond that of aspiring to be merely a possession in a lord's household, not just to become an acquisition, helpless to fend for myself. As though I had no brain."

  "You can't sew, you can't cook, you are hopeless at singing. Where are the qualities that will make you a good match?"

  She rose to her feet, straightened her spine and glowered at him. "But I can take down a man twice my weight and height. No man will better me with the skills you have taught me."

  "You are an innocent, Elita. It is not so simple. If a war should break out between the upper lands and the cavernous kingdom, it will not be so readily won as you would like to think. You are a dreamer."

  "Do you think that will happen, Zane? I have heard the whisperings, but do you really think Kadin is planning a war?"

  "When his father was killed and he and his followers were forced back into the underworld, Kadin swore to have his revenge. Duarte is the guardian of the northern shores and the northern gates to the underworld. This union is important to the well-being and uneasy peace that has been maintained for centuries. It will help to cement the contract between Duarte and our father. He has vigilance over the northern sealand gates, but he also provides the mea
ns to fight the hoards. With so many gates to guard in the desertlands, this treaty is crucial to the well-being of our people."

  "It is a good thing our father had more than one daughter to use as chattel in exchange for the treaties with the guardian lords."

  "Do not be flippant. Our father is the most powerful of the guardians. He is the overlord. Amak has blessed him with children, and he has been an obedient servant to the laws of survival."

  "Why didn't he have one of my obedient sisters marry Duarte then?"

  "Duarte has balked at a match before now. Suddenly he has become amenable to the contract. He is powerful and he will settle for no other of our sisters."

  Elita snorted. "It figures, I would have to be the one. How does he know about me in particular?"

  Something in her brother's eyes shifted. He shrugged and turned away. "If it wasn't him, it would be another, a lesser lord, and you know that. You are privileged by such a match. I know him, Elita. We went to school together. He is older than me, but he will make a good match for you."

  "I should be able to choose for myself."

  "That is blasphemy and you know it. Enough. I have a gift for you."

  Her manner brightened. "A gift? For me?" She eyed him suspiciously. "What sort of gift?" She didn't trust him one bit. He was forever playing practical jokes on her. Not that she didn't return the favor often enough.

  He turned away and walked across the room to a satchel lying near the door. She watched him reach in and carefully lift out a long rectangular ebony case inlaid with gold and with a leather strap that ran from one end to the other. He straightened, turned, and walked back to her. He held it out.

  Hesitantly, she accepted the beautiful case. "What is it?" She ran a hand over the smooth exterior. She felt a tremor of warmth pass through her arm. Whatever it was contained an element of magic.

  "Open it."

  Carefully, she unhooked the two golden latches and lifted the top of the case. Her gaze widened and she caught her breath as she looked at what lay nestled on the maroon velvet bed inside. "This can't be what I think it is."

  "Father sent me on a mission to the misted forests, to the stronghold of the master magician Sarek. I went to the magician's swordmaker, provided him with your measurements and he has created this for you."

  Tears burned her eyes at the gift that was more than she could have ever imagined. She touched the multi-colored mosaic grip and lifted it reverently from the case. The weight and feel was perfect. The blade was engraved with scenes of passion that made her face warm with embarrassment. She'd never seen anything like them before. The sheen of the blade flashed in the light.

  "Your match will be your teacher from this day forward. Only through him will the sword work its magic. Through the teachings of Amak."

  "This is like nothing I've ever seen before."

  She looked closer and saw a name engraved just below the handle. "Sirene?"

  Zane nodded. "It is the name the swordmaker has bestowed on this blade. It will serve you well, Elita, if you care for it and understand the basic tenets of Amak."

  "I don't know if I am worthy of this gift, Zane. I don't know if I can keep to the tenets."

  "You will only discover true happiness and the full power of the sword through obedience to Amak. The three tenets of Amak are important to your protection and well-being. Obedience. Acquisition. Acceptance. Obedience to our father's law, acquisition of power through your mate, and pleasure in the acceptance of his protection and submission to the essence of desire."

  "I-I will try, Zane. For you."

  Suddenly, he reached out and gripped her shoulders. She looked up, surprised at the action and saw something dark in his eyes.

  "I must reveal something that our father would not have wished told. But you must know in order to protect yourself. Kadin approached our father. He wanted you for his mate. It's why he could wait no longer for this match with Lord Raoul. He told Kadin you were already promised to Duarte. Your life is in danger, Elita, until the vows are given and the contracts signed. Kadin is not the type who likes to be thwarted. Do not blame our father for trying to shield you. This sword will help to safeguard you on your journey to the northern shores. Stay vigilant. Even to retain an uneasy peace with Kadin, our father would never sacrifice one of his daughters in marriage to the Underlord. He loves you Elita and only seeks to protect you the way a father must."

  Elita had heard rumors of Kadin. She shuddered at the thought of being matched to him. It was something she would not have wished on her worst enemy.

  "I will be careful, Zane. I promise."

  A dark shadow loomed around her and passed coldly through her soul at that moment. How far would Kadin go to acquire her? He wasn't the type to care that her father had refused him. He was known for taking what he wanted without permission. Her fingers tightened around the grip of the sword.

  Chapter 2

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  "Your father wishes to speak with you."

  Elita stiffened and turned around. She had been preparing for a ride in the desert--one last ride before she must depart for the Northern Shore. The descent of the sun would have cooled the air, and she wanted to gaze one last time at the night blossoms. Once she left the desert, she would most likely never see it again.

  Her sisters wrote to her, sent messages when they could, and she missed them. But once the season was upon them and they were matched, they left the borders of their birth to begin anew in the home of their lords. Just as she would be required to do now.

  Elita was actually the youngest of her father's many children and as such had always been allowed more freedom than the others, somehow escaping the close scrutiny of her siblings. Her father, as High Lord Guardian of the Desert, took the responsibilities to his people very seriously and often he was away for extended periods of time attending to one crisis or another.

  It was during one such mission that he lost his second in command, a childhood friend whom he had known since boyhood. It was then he had taken a second wife, Livia, the childless widow of his friend, Batu. He had felt responsible for her and taken her into his household as a lesser wife.

  Then, when he routed an enemy of one of his lesser lords, he was gifted with one of the grateful lord's slave daughters, Otra, to serve his family, and whom the High Lord accepted into his intimate home with the title of concubine. She had always been treated with the same respect as a lesser wife. All three women loved his father and had borne him children. He treated no one child differently than another, and all three women treated every child sired by Thaddeus as one of their own.

  Otra was Elita's birth mother, and Elita had been called a wild child from the beginning. Or so all three of the women often told her. A changeling girl they were certain, dropped into their lives by a magic wind which had carried her as a babe from the misted woodlands of the elemental forests to their borders.

  She was the only one of all of Lord Thaddeus's children with red hair that glowed like a vibrant sunset. All of her siblings had midnight black hair. Even Zane.

  Zane was the eldest and as such her father's heir as lord to the desert border tribes. He and Elita formed the bookends to the children of Thaddeus, he being the oldest and she the youngest. She felt so far distanced from the others. Like she truly was a changeling who was not meant to be here.

  When Elita had begged Zane, he had taken to teaching her a way to harness the wildness inside her, taught her the elements of battle that only a man was privy to under their laws. All these twenty years she'd had a freedom none of her sisters, or her mothers, for that fact, had ever known. And now it was all to be taken away and she was to act the dutiful daughter of the great High Lord of the Desert. She must marry to protect her people and the borders of the world they lived in. How could she bear such bondage after so many years of almost unfettered freedom?

  She left her rooms and walked down the hallway of the ornate desert palace. Heading toward the inlaid stone staircase of emerald, gol
d, and rust, she descended to her father's private counsel room. Standing before the thick wooden door, she inhaled deeply before knocking and then opening the door to face her future.

  Her father looked up from behind the ebony desk as she entered and she steeled herself beneath his heavy perusal.

  "Come in, Elita. Please have a seat. There are things we need to discuss."

  Quietly, she closed the door behind her, stepped into the room, and sat on one of the hand-carved ivory chairs facing the desk.

  High Lord Thaddeus Watende was an imposing presence to be sure. With a thick head of snow white hair and a beard to match, his sapphire eyes glared alertly from beneath two thick, bushy brows. He was a man who commanded authority without a word. Still exhibiting a muscular build, he continued to train regularly with his guard, never balked at flying right into the heat of battle when necessary. His alert mind and gift for tactical maneuvering had brought him untold wealth and power, as well as respect from the four corners of the planet, for his acumen.

  And now Elita was the focus of his scrutiny. She lifted her chin, trying to tamp down the fear of the unknown that shivered inside her. Before her was a man no one crossed and lived to tell the tale. But he was also her father and someone who had always shown her tolerant love and compassion, as well as acceptance.

  He steepled his fingers and leaned back in his chair as he gazed at her. She sat straight as she had been trained, never slouching, legs together, hands primly folded in her lap, gaze down, yet she continued to study him beneath her lashes as she waited for him to speak.

  "It can be put off no longer, daughter. Your season is upon you and this match must take place. Lord Guardian Duarte is sending a contingent to escort you back to the Northern Shore. There you will complete the ceremony of intercourse and sign the treaty binding our agreement. You will carry the treaty with you. I have already signed it. A messenger will accompany you and he will return with the signed document and bring word to me that the ceremony has been witnessed and consummated without incident. He will bear witness to your health and happiness in the match."