Allegiance Sworn (A NOVEL OF THE LIGHT BLADE)

by Kylie Griffin

  A twinge of excitement curled in the pit of her stomach and spread southward. She’d experienced sexual attraction before, but nothing like this, so quick, so unexpected, and certainly not based on something as singular and simple as a scent. But while she now had the time to explore her reaction, curiosity overrode it. What had compelled Arek to seek her out?

  With a last glance at the moonlit valley, the silver-tinted crops and gray-shadowed hills, she turned to face him, propping a hip against the outer wall. She’d expected any visitor to be Rassan, since she’d walked away from him after an argument just before the feast about her desire to keep Arek safe.

  The Light Blade’s scent still titillated her nostrils, but the metallic odor of tension was stronger now and reflected in his wide stance and somber expression.

  “Your Second is as driven as you to see this plan of yours succeed.” A statement of fact, not a question, and no hint of resentment, just calm observation. “He seems to think you’ve changed your mind about my part in it. Have you?”

  No prevarication, straight to the point. So like Rassan.

  Imhara almost grinned.

  “His frankness can sometimes be confronting.” She tilted her head in apology, but since he’d raised the issue, she wasn’t going to back away from it. “We’ve counted on you being a part of our strategy for so long, but I’m considering other options. He disagrees with any change.”

  “I understand his point of view.” Arek shot a glance out over the valley in the general direction of the border. “He wouldn’t be much of a Second to you if he didn’t speak his mind.”

  Imhara’s gaze narrowed. The timbre of his voice deepened and vibrated with heavy emotion as he imparted that tidbit of information. It sounded like he spoke from experience.

  “While we might not agree on every point, I respect his opinions and suggestions.” More times than she cared to count, Rassan had kept her focused on their goal. “But with this plan, there’s more to consider than just what gives us the best advantage.”

  Facts, variables, tactics. Her father had often quoted those words in his lectures as he’d taught planning and strategy to not only his offspring and Commanders, but his Na’Hord, too. He’d wanted every warrior equipped to make wise decisions and capable of stepping up to issue orders, not just follow them, if the situation called for it. His teachings had served her well during the last five years.

  “The most beneficial course of action isn’t always the best to take.” Arek ran his hand through his hair. “Logic doesn’t consider emotions, and sometimes it should.”

  Her breath caught and goose bumps skittered over her skin. “No, it doesn’t. That’s why I want to give you a choice. Assuming or demanding that you take part in the venture isn’t going to help.”

  Again his gaze flickered out over the valley to stare toward the border, and Imhara wondered what he was thinking. Was it of family? Friends? Or those he’d fought beside while on patrol?

  Arek gave little away when he controlled his emotions, like he was doing now. An intriguing quality, and a challenge to her curious nature. Dealing with it could wait. She wanted to know the purpose of his visit. It was the first time he’d voluntarily sought her out, and she wouldn’t rush him. The silence stretched out until all she could hear was her own heartbeat, yet she waited.

  Finally he turned his head, and once more his gaze sought hers. The blue around his irises had darkened to a deeper shade of twilight. The tension radiating from him felt different. Still uncertain. Still wary, but more . . . resolved.

  “I don’t trust you, Na’Reish.” His low-pitched voice was rough and his blunt statement lashed at her like a whip. She nodded though, knowing some of the fault for that lay with her. “But I’m willing to try and make this plan of yours work.”

  He was? A frisson of shock left Imhara feeling light-headed and flushed. “Why?”

  Arek’s brows inched downward. “Why what?”

  “Hatred isn’t an easy emotion to overcome. Some never manage to separate themselves from it.” A burden she wondered if she’d ever be able to shed, particularly where Savyr and Yur were concerned. “The contingency plan will suffice. Why offer to participate when you don’t have to?”

  Another long silence as his frown deepened, then, “I wouldn’t be much of a Light Blade if I ran from what I didn’t like, Na Kaal.”

  He thought she was accusing him of cowardice? She took a breath to refute him, but he held up a hand, cutting her off.

  “I can’t ignore the advantage your plan would give the Blade Council.” A logical reason. “But there’s also faith.” His lips twisted in a grim smile as he answered slowly, every word heavy with obvious reluctance. “Certain . . . events in the past few months have shaped and changed my life. I suspect this is all part of Her journey for me. It’s not one I would have chosen, far from it, but a friend of mine would assure me it’s necessary.”

  What events? How had they influenced him? What had happened in his past? Arek’s lips pressed shut then flattened—her expression must have betrayed her curiosity—and she had little doubt he’d refuse to respond if she pushed. For now she’d be patient.

  The thought of Arek joining her in their venture excited her, yet she couldn’t forget the ripe odor of his distaste for all things Na’Reish in their first encounter in her bedroom and since.

  “You’re certain you want to do this?” Too much was at stake to risk being wrong. “Once you commit and we leave this fortress tomorrow, there’ll be no turning back.”

  His nod was sharp. Imhara pushed off the wall and took a step toward him, one eyebrow arching. She understood her responsibilities and what was required of her. No matter how much she wanted to, putting her desires before the safety of her people wasn’t an option.

  “Then say it. Tell me out loud what you’re committing to.”

  * * *

  AREK fisted his hands. Imhara’s voice had taken on that arrogant tone, the one she’d used in the library when she’d tested him. Moonlight struck her face only from the side, and it was hard to discern her true expression. With half of her face wreathed by shadows, he couldn’t tell if she was pleased or ambivalent about his agreeing to help.

  Couldn’t she scent his resolve? Did she doubt his allegiance? Or was this her being petty making him verbalize their agreement?

  His jaw clenched.

  So be it.

  “I’ll be your slave.” Saying the words out loud sent a shiver through him.

  Imhara closed the distance between them, stopping with only inches to spare, so close he could feel the warmth of her body even through his shirt. With it came the light aroma of sweet-shade. The same scent present in the soap-sand he’d used in Imhara’s bathing room that first day. His pulse kicked up a notch, and he dismissed it as a reaction to her deliberate move of invading his personal space.

  “You did well enough to fool Yur.” Her tone had softened slightly. “But once we cross over Skadda Pass, we’ll be in Na’Reish territory and you’re going to have to be my slave every hour of every day. You’ll be expected to follow orders, serve, watch other humans mistreated, punished, perhaps even killed. You won’t be able to intervene or use your Gift to save them. Can you do that?”

  As tempted as he was to blurt out an affirmative, he couldn’t.

  “I’m able to control my Gift. I’ve done it during training and battle.” His boot scuffed on stone as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “As for my behavior, I’m going to make mistakes.” Admitting it grated but his course was set. He’d made an oath to help her, and lying would endanger them all. “I can only give you my word I’ll learn as quickly as I can.”

  She gave a small nod. “I can accept that.”

  Her head tilted slightly to one side, his only warning before she laid her hands on his chest. His muscles clenched before he could control his reaction. Her warmth and scent assaulted his senses.

  “And how do you feel about sleeping with me?”
/>
  “What?”

  This time he backed away, extricating himself from her hold, a single step, then the cold wall of a parapet halted his retreat. Before he could move sideways, Imhara slapped her hands against the wall either side of his head, blocking him in.

  One dark eyebrow arched. “You’re my bed-slave.”

  Her gaze lowered and surveyed him with a hunger that reminded him of a lira stalking its prey. To his consternation, his body tightened and desire pulsed through him, as if responding to a physical caress rather than a visual one.

  Adrenaline shot through him.

  Lady’s Breath! He’d never anticipated having sex with her.

  Shocked by his body’s betrayal, he fought it, struggling to wrest control and deny the heat permission to move any lower.

  Everything Rassan and others had told him about her alter ego flickered through his mind, and he focused on that. While it didn’t erase what he was feeling, it helped rein it in. He sucked in a relieved breath.

  Was this another one of her tests? Did she think if she pressed him hard enough, he’d retract his offer?

  Her tactics, if that’s what they were, were exactly what he’d do if their positions were reversed. She was determined, he’d give her that. Did he dare presume she was bluffing?

  “Once we leave this fortress, we’ll be sharing a bed.” Her quiet declaration twisted his gut. “There’ll be times I’m going to touch you, and you’re going to touch me . . . in front of others, Arek.”

  “No.” The prickling sensation inside him wasn’t exactly fear; it was too hot, too intense for that. He shook his head in silent protest, unwilling to examine what it was more closely, but he couldn’t ignore the way the heat raced through his veins, pounding in time to the beat of his heart.

  Imhara’s gaze narrowed. She grasped his wrist, pushed up the sleeve of his shirt, then turned his arm over. In the silver moonlight, the teeth marks were small, dark shadows on his skin.

  “You’re my blood-slave.” Her finger traced each one, the light touch leaving a searing trail on his skin. “You know what that means.”

  Blood-slave . . .

  How many times had he heard utter revulsion as the words were spat from speakers’ mouths during conversation?

  Blood-addiction was well documented in the history annals of the Temple library. The Na’Reish used haze to sedate their chosen blood-slaves, the drug calming the human enough to allow their master to feed from them without a struggle. Used frequently, it helped ensure the addiction took hold.

  Once dependent, the drug didn’t have to be used to ensure compliance. The cravings and forced loyalty to their master dictated every action of the new blood-slave, and the Na’Reish took advantage of this weakness.

  Every journal and document claimed those cursed to serve in this way could no longer be trusted, and were considered lost to the demons forever.

  Tragic casualties of blood-slavery.

  Or so everyone believed. A belief he still had trouble shaking despite Imhara’s revelations.

  He cursed under his breath. “You want me to be your whore for my next blood-high?”

  “Yes.” Imhara’s hard tone matched her expression. “Driven by that need, the Na’Reish expect slavish behavior from their blood-slaves. Depravity is an accepted part of our culture now. We exploit the blood-bond.” Her gaze never wavered. “As Na Kaal, I use blood and sex to control you. I’ll give no quarter in this, Arek.”

  Her words struck home with the force of a smithy’s hammer. Illusion or not, she’d created a reputation—the key to her success so far. It didn’t matter that every action she’d taken had been calculated to move her a step closer to her goal.

  The skin between his shoulder blades crawled. He’d have to play on her terms or break his oath. Something he’d never done since taking the Lady’s vows to serve Her and his people. He still balked at her request.

  Imhara pressed closer. Her soft curves and lean muscle were a perfect fit against him. Before he could do more than tense, she tangled her fingers in his hair, holding him so he couldn’t look away, her Na’Reish strength mocking the intimacy of her action.

  “I’m not willing to compromise on this just because you find the idea of us as sexual partners repugnant.” The fist in his hair tightened and the heat roiling in his gut flared. “I have done . . . and I’m ready to do . . . whatever I need to bring Savyr down.” Her purple-hued gaze pierced him, the reminder timely. “Are you?”

  Chapter 17

  CAUTIOUS hope filled Imhara even though Arek’s expression vacillated between confusion and anger, uncertainty and frustration. She’d goaded him with what had to be his greatest fear—sleeping with the enemy—and he faced it head-on when she’d half expected him to lash out using his Gift.

  Emotions darkened his gaze, and the scents radiating from him lasted no longer than the fraction of a heartbeat before changing, each fighting for dominance as he struggled with her demand.

  A few days ago he’d have tried to kill her; now the restraint he showed was progress, and she sent a prayer of thanks heavenward for it. Yet just how far she could push him remained to be seen.

  Instinct told her he disliked backing down, but she had to know just how committed he truly was, for both their sakes. Once in Gannec territory, and exposed to the scrutiny of Savyr and scores of other Na’Reishi, acting out of character or refusing to commit to this role one hundred percent would endanger everyone who came with them to the Enclave.

  Arek’s throat worked as he swallowed, the pulse there beating a rapid tattoo beneath his skin. “You’re bluffing.” Tension roughened his voice.

  The challenge skated across her nerves, like a flame licking fuel. His nostrils flared and his chest rose and fell on a sharp breath. That, combined with the heat of his hard body, reminded her that although he seemed furious and besieged by doubt, there was a familiar, spicy heat mixed in the scents surrounding him.

  Sexual heat. Lust or desire, it didn’t matter; a reaction to something she’d said or done. It was there.

  Earlier that week, during their confrontation with Yur, she’d dismissed his response as accidental, unwanted. This time instinct told her there was more to it. Exhilaration stroked heated fingers from her scalp to her breasts, then settled low in her abdomen.

  “Am I?” A small smile tugged at her lips. That he wasn’t as repulsed by her presence as she believed him to be sparked wicked thoughts. Her heart began to race. “Then call me on it.”

  Her husky tone caught her by surprise as much as it did Arek. Provoking him probably wasn’t fair, but just how he would respond filled her with anticipation, the sort she hadn’t felt in a very, very long time.

  He blinked, a muscle in his jaw twitching even as his eyes locked with hers. Deep blue heat simmered in their depths—like the hottest flames of a blacksmith’s forge—a heartbeat before his lips slanted across hers.

  His mouth smothered her gasp. She gripped his upper arms, muscular biceps taut and steel hard, intending to push him away. A gut reaction. His hands sank into her hair, his fingers mimicking the hold she had on him—tangling, tightening, taking control; something she detested in other males but accepted from Arek. This time.

  His fingers applied steady pressure, angling her head so that her lips parted. His tongue speared into her mouth.

  Once.

  Twice.

  The thrusting motion heated her faster than she thought possible, combusting her from the inside out. She caught his tongue with her lips, sucked at it, stroked it with her own, needing . . . no, craving it more than her next breath. He tasted of the same earthy spice that filled her nostrils.

  Exotic. Exquisite.

  Arek’s deep-throated groan turned up the temperature until her blood boiled in her veins. She arched against him, hissing her pleasure into his mouth, her breasts and nipples so sensitive from the friction the sensation shot straight to her core.

  Yet beneath all that, her heart soared. His actions
restored hope in her plan and confirmed what instinct had been telling her about this warrior. With his help, her parents’ legacy stood a chance of surviving.

  Shoving all that aside, Imhara pushed her fingers deeper into his hair. She wanted to enjoy their kiss.

  * * *

  ALL of Arek’s intentions to make the kiss last no more than a heartbeat or two disappeared the moment his lips touched Imhara’s. One taste of her mouth, and heavy sweetness exploded against his taste buds, and the voice of logic faded away like smoke dissipating in a strong breeze.

  The incredible, rich flavor had his lips parting wider, the need for another taste ripping through him in a heated surge that started in his gut and spread outward fast, shredding any coherent thought, leaving only raw desire in its wake.

  The feel of her, all curves and softness, heat and strength, the warmth of her body adding to the fire in his. A throaty little moan vibrated from her. The sound of it went straight to the fireball in his gut, making him hard in seconds.

  Hard and hungry.

  Imhara met his tongue with her own, dancing around it before her lips closed on him, nibbling, sucking, stroking, her sweetness a heady, intoxicating drug as potent as haze. He wanted to consume as much of it as he could. It was all that mattered. His world narrowed to the fiery rush singing through his veins.

  His senses reeled. It felt like standing in the middle of a tempest, the thunder deafening, the lightning blinding, the wind howling. All white-hot sensation and raw pleasure.

  Wild, ferocious, uncontrollable.

  Dangerous.

  That single coherent thought shattered the moment.

  He tore his mouth away from hers.

  “Mother of Light!” Breath sawing in and out of his lungs, he gripped Imhara’s shoulders and created some distance between them but found he couldn’t release her. He sucked in a hard breath—several—as he stared at her. Her face was flushed, her lips shining wet in the moonlight, swollen and full from their kiss.

  What had he done?

  He shuddered, too aware that every nerve and cell remained charged, the heat threatening to combust again in an instant. Where he held her, the skin on the palms of his hands felt blistered.