Allegiance Sworn (A NOVEL OF THE LIGHT BLADE)

by Kylie Griffin

  Imhara forced herself not to react. No matter how many times she’d witnessed another person being ordered to perform for another, the cavalier attitude turned her stomach.

  Savyr sat up, his black lips curving upward, blatant interest flaring in his deep purple gaze as he examined her curvaceous form. “Your taste in humans is impeccable.”

  Tendrils of cold curled around Imhara’s innards as the warrior reached out and smoothed his hand along the length of Yrenna’s leg, hip to ankle, as a farmer would when inspecting stock.

  How had the Na’Reish strayed so far from the Lady’s path that they would treat another intelligent being in this way?

  “She has excellent muscling. Defined, strong.” Imhara’s respect for Yrenna rose considerably as she stood there tolerating his touch. No way she could have done it and not kicked his arrogant jaw. “She’s breeder material.”

  Imhara forced a small smile. Savyr would think she reacted to his compliment. Let him believe. Training with her Na’Hord, Yrenna was one of Rassan’s best scouts.

  “A tempting morsel.” Satisfaction oozed in Savyr’s tone. “Your hospitality is appreciated, Na Kaal.”

  She inclined her head.

  Beside him Yur grimaced in clear disagreement, then his expression transformed into something more neutral. “Na’Rei, pardon my interruption, but you do have an evening engagement to attend.”

  His Second’s quiet reminder drew a grunt from Savyr. “I suppose we should move on to the purpose of my visit.”

  He patted the cushion beside him. Yrenna seated herself at his side, her slight hesitation the perfect portrayal of nervous caution. He plucked the tunic from her grasp and threw it away.

  “There’s nothing to say we can’t mix business with pleasure, Urkan.” His large hand came to rest on Yrenna’s bare thigh. The young woman bit back a gasp as his fingers slid to cup then fondle her sex.

  Imhara curled her fingers in the cushion beneath her, a protest forming, then froze.

  She froze because of the scent teasing her nostrils, an earthy combination of heat and spice mixed with an underlying odor of bitterness that was instantly familiar. A scent that served as a much-needed reminder of her role and a welcome distraction.

  From the corner of her eye, Arek approached, in his hands a platter with an array of food. She glanced his way, drawing his scent into her lungs, needing it like a breath of fresh air, surprised at how quickly his presence calmed her.

  For the briefest moment, his head lifted as he drew near. His gaze honed in on Savyr, the blue of his eyes glittering. So cold and dark. Yrenna’s soft cry at whatever Savyr was doing with her intensified the bitterness of his scent.

  Imhara straightened, willing Arek to meet her gaze. If he weren’t careful, Savyr would notice and call him on it. His attention flickered to her.

  She pointed to the floor at her feet. “Kneel.”

  His mouth flattened and his grip on the serving platter tightened, but he obeyed. His indrawn breath was deliberate, steady, and within a few heartbeats, his scent had dissipated to an acceptable level. Settling beside her, he bowed his head, mimicking the other servers.

  Loose locks of hair fell to his shoulders, brushing the sleeveless tunic, displaying just how physically pleasing he was. From the fit of the fabric stretched across the width of his shoulders to the taut tanned skin of his bare arms.

  Her fingertips itched to reach out to touch the fine dusting of blond hairs on his forearms. She tried to resist, the action proving too similar to Savyr’s assessment of Yrenna, yet she needed the excuse to avoid watching Savyr grope the young woman.

  No, that wasn’t the truth. Lady forgive her, she lacked the courage to confront the consequences of her own decision. Yrenna may have volunteered for the role of Savyr’s slave, but it didn’t relieve the guilt of putting the woman in a situation that required her to suffer his attention.

  Merciful Mother, there were times she hated being Clan leader.

  Imhara wrapped her fingers around Arek’s wrist, needing to feel the warmth of his skin, the strong beat of his pulse, aware of the moment he tensed, his muscles transforming into heated steel.

  She kept her hold but let her gaze follow the roadwork of veins that ran beneath Arek’s skin. The pale blue vessels wound around and across each defined muscle, under the gold band wrapped tight around his muscular bicep until they disappeared beneath the tunic’s edge.

  “Your betrothal meetings have been arranged. The first will be tomorrow, the second the night after, and the final one the next.”

  The meaning of Savyr’s words took a moment to penetrate. Imhara focused on the demon as she let Arek go. Yrenna lay curled along his side, his large hand resting over the flare of her naked hip.

  A small smile curved Savyr’s lips and regret twisted within her at him witnessing her interest in Arek, but she shrugged it off. Such behavior from Na Kaal would be expected.

  “And the name of the first Na’Reishi?” She kept her tone level.

  “Commander Sere Jirri, second son of Na Jirri.” Savyr plucked a goblet from the tray of the nearest server. “The first meeting is tomorrow. I’ve arranged for him to visit you here. Whether you share a meal, attend the Clan Gathering feast together, or make some other arrangement is up to you, but I expect you to make the time to get to know him.”

  She took her own goblet and sipped the contents. The Jirri possessed one of the smallest territories. Their only asset came from the gold panned from the Na River that ran across their land.

  Of late, rumor had it that the precious metal deposits were depleted. Who had proposed a mated alliance with her Clan? The Jirri? Or Savyr? Either way, a second son mating a Na would give them access to her lands and resources, renewed wealth for a Clan on the verge of ruin, and in return the Jirri would swear their undying loyalty to the Na’Rei.

  She frowned. “He’s nearly thirty years my senior, Na’Rei.”

  The server poured more wine into Savyr’s goblet.

  “His experience and maturity in Clan matters will benefit your people. Something you’ve no doubt missed with the passing of your father.”

  Bartered resources for loyalty crushed any hope for a partnership based on love and mutual respect. A bleak hollowness opened up deep inside Imhara. It wasn’t like she’d expected anything different from Savyr, yet her father would never have settled for such a politically driven gambit.

  Neither would she. She grit her teeth and let her silence answer for her.

  Savyr glanced at her then, his gaze penetrating. “Keep an open mind and give considerable thought to your future mate, Imhara. Your verdict requires due deliberation.”

  “You’re giving me a choice?”

  “Of course.” Any benevolence in his tone was offset by the hard edge in his tone. “Although if you haven’t reached a decision by the time the Enclave begins, I will choose for you.”

  A burst of burning cold ripped through her.

  A decision before the Enclave began?

  That meant her future mate would have all Clan rights and power transferred to him. He’d usurp her place at the meeting and make decisions on her Clan’s behalf with little to no knowledge of any matters affecting them.

  Imhara took a deeper sip of wine. Being mated before the Enclave meant that unless her new mate kept her informed, an unlikely consideration, she also wouldn’t discover the extent of Savyr’s war plans concerning the humans.

  If killing Savyr failed, she’d need that information when she faced the Blade Council. Given the circumstances, she couldn’t go to a truce negotiation empty-handed.

  The wine in her stomach soured. She swallowed hard.

  Mother of Light, she hadn’t anticipated this.

  Chapter 25

  AREK stared hard at the spot where the heel of Imhara’s boot rested on the floor rug, yet with each passing heartbeat, the present situation seemed more and more surreal.

  The conversation around him faded. Mother of Light, Na’Rei
Savyr Gannec sat less than six feet away from him. The pounding of his pulse equaled the force he applied to every muscle in his body in the effort to remain still.

  Keep calm! Concentrate on your task.

  He gripped the serving tray tighter, his nails digging into the wooden edges, and snuck another look sideways. Couldn’t resist. The faceless image of his dreams finally had form and detail.

  The power and strength in the broad angles of Savyr’s face and hard jawline hit first. Decades of experience marked the lines creasing his tanned skin, projecting an equal share of confidence and arrogance. Jet-black hair, the same color as the uneven spots trailing down either side of his dark brows, framed a wide forehead, yet the air of menace he exuded didn’t come from just his physical looks but also the predatory gleam in his deep purple gaze.

  Arek sucked in a deep breath. How many years had he imagined this scenario? Of being in the same room as the monster who’d kidnapped and raped his mother. Of facing the bastard responsible for her death. The one he blamed for driving his father to suicide.

  A familiar aching hollowness squeezed his heart. Too young to recall either of them, ethereal sensations were all he had to remember them by, and time had blurred or relegated many to indistinct impressions, some so insubstantial he could no longer recall the where or why of them.

  Never had he felt the absence of a weapon at his side more keenly. The urge to drive a blade deep into that wide-barrel chest and let loose the full force of his Gift burned.

  Arek ground his back teeth together, knowing the action would be suicide, but the seething mass of heat and cold roiling in his gut threatened to shred his control. He closed his eyes.

  Focus.

  He needed to focus.

  He sucked in several, slow breaths.

  Second Arek Barial, Light Blade warrior, had no place here.

  He was a slave. Na Kaal’s server.

  Nothing more.

  Yrenna’s soft, uneven gasp snapped his eyes open. Imhara leaned back on one elbow, giving him a clear line of vision to Savyr. The demon’s large hand passed over the tips of Yrenna’s bare breasts, a teasing brush, before his fingers closed around one, his grip tight enough to illicit a pained cry.

  Her distress scraped across already raw nerves.

  “Get your hands off her.”

  The raspy voice didn’t even sound like his, and for a moment, Arek wondered if someone else had issued the order. But heads turned in his direction, all with varying expressions of surprise and displeasure.

  “What did you just say?” Imhara caught his jaw and twisted his face toward her, forcing his gaze away from Savyr and Yrenna. Violet eyes, wide with shock, locked with his. “You forget your place, slave.”

  Her voice shook, and if he hadn’t seen the nervous sweep of her tongue over her bottom lip, he’d have mistaken it for anger instead of concern.

  She was worried about him, and not Yrenna?

  Frustration surged through him. How could she just sit there and watch the young woman being abused? How many others over the years had Savyr tormented, subjecting them to his brand of suffering, stripping them of their dignity and destroying their souls as he had his mother?

  “He’s hurting her.” A harsh whisper.

  Bleakness swirled through her gaze, then her mouth flattened even as her expression hardened. He grunted as she shoved him hard enough to send him sprawling on the floor. He flung out his arms to break his fall. The platter slipped from his grasp and shattered as it struck the ground.

  “What the Na’Rei does is none of your concern, slave! Rassan, get him out of here!” She dismissed him with a flick of her hand before glancing over her shoulder toward the two Na’Reishi. “Your pardon, Na’Rei, Second Yur. This one is new and still learning.”

  Arek climbed to his feet, an iciness slicing through him as keenly as the knowledge that Imhara intended to let this farce continue.

  “Shall I put him in the stocks?” Rassan’s hard-edged query came as a fist caught the collar of his tunic.

  “The stocks?” Yur’s snort was accompanied by a narrow-eyed glare. “What will he learn from that? Slice the tongue from his head.” He rolled to his feet, his fingers stroking the hilt of his dagger. “With your permission, Na’Rei, I’d be more than happy to teach him the folly of speaking out of turn.”

  Arek saw red.

  Like Light he would! Widening his stance, he prepared to defend himself. A thick-muscled arm wrapped around his throat. He was jerked back against a hard body.

  “Let go of me!”

  Rassan pinned his arms to his sides using brute force. “You’re only making the situation worse, human.” His hissed warning was accompanied by a tightening of the choke hold. “Your orders, Na Kaal?”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Arek saw Yur’s black lips curve upward in a wicked grin. Imhara rose from the cushions. The markings on either side of her face stood out in stark relief against her colorless skin. Nothing in her expression gave away her thoughts, but traces of anger and fear glittered in her eyes.

  The silence stretched out. Savyr’s keen interest and intense anticipation in her response took the edge off Arek’s rage.

  He quit struggling against Rassan.

  Lady’s Breath, what had he done?

  His careless actions had placed her in a precarious situation. How precarious he wasn’t sure, but he knew she couldn’t afford to look weak in front of either warrior.

  “Release him.” Savyr’s quiet order pinched the lines around her mouth tight. The stiff nod she gave Rassan betrayed her apprehension. The Na’Chi released him and stepped back.

  Arek shifted from one foot to the other. Guilt raked him with razor-sharp talons.

  “I see you begin to realize the gravity of the situation, human.” The gleam in Savyr’s eyes sharpened. “Sit down, Urkan. Your threat means nothing to this slave. Let me show you how to teach him a lesson he won’t forget.” He stroked Yrenna’s cheek with his thumb. “Kneel and beg forgiveness.”

  His arrogance grated, like jagged fingernails over skin. Arek’s lip curled.

  In one smooth motion, the demon drew his dagger from his belt and sliced open Yrenna’s cheek. The young woman screamed, clutching her face. Arek sucked in a shocked breath. His world narrowed to the blood oozing from between her fingers. Behind him, Rassan cursed softly.

  The nightmare images of his mother with Savyr swirled in his mind. How had she coped with such a monster? All his imagined scenarios could never match what she’d truly experienced.

  Savyr jerked Yrenna closer to him, one arm banded around her torso, cutting her struggling to nothing. With the flick of his wrist he laid the blade against her other cheek. Her whimper cut as deep as the blade that wounded her.

  “Kneel and beg forgiveness.” Steel edged every word.

  Arek stepped toward him, his hatred for the demon raw and bone deep. Every instinct urged him to use his Gift. Surprise would be on his side. Yet the icy finger of logic cooled his temper. He’d never close the gap between them fast enough. An inch and a heartbeat were all the distance and time Savyr required to slice Yrenna’s throat instead of her cheek.

  “Use the blade on me!” he hissed. “She’s done nothing to you.”

  “You’re a slow learner, human.” The blade tip pierced Yrenna’s skin.

  Her frightened cry squeezed his heart.

  “The slave’s worth diminishes the more scars she bears, Na’Rei.” Imhara’s low-voiced comment vibrated with anger. “This female is one of my best.”

  “You show such concern for something that can be so easily replaced.” The measured look Savyr gave her lifted Arek’s heart rate. “A leader must sometimes be willing to make sacrifices in order to maintain control, Na Kaal. Surely you know that?”

  Imhara stiffened. The dark glittering of her gaze caught Arek by surprise. Her hand crept close to the hilt of her dagger. She looked ready to challenge the Na’Rei. To save Yrenna, and protect him?

 
If she turned, Savyr would see her threatening gesture. An unplanned attack held little chance of success. The situation was too volatile. Too dangerous.

  The razor-sharp talons dug deeper into Arek’s innards. His hatred and temper had created this mess.

  Lady’s Breath, it was his pride or all their lives.

  The choice was his. And it wasn’t a comfortable one. Not at all.

  Slowly, Arek dropped to his knees.

  It’s better to show too much respect than not enough. Jawn’s advice echoed in his head.

  He bent over and placed his hands and his forehead on the ground, just like the other slaves had when the Kaal Clan rode past their campsites.

  “Na’Rei . . .” His throat closed over, his jaw clamped shut on the words needed to salvage the situation, refusing to utter them to a demon he hated more than life itself.

  His pride railed but he shoved it down.

  Merciful Mother, this wasn’t about him. Yrenna’s quiet sobbing was a stark reminder of the suffering he’d caused.

  “Na’Rei, please forgive this slave’s shameful behavior.” Arek swallowed twice. He could still see Imhara’s pale face in his mind’s eye. He forced the words out. “You were right to teach me this lesson. . . . Please, I beg you not to hurt Yrenna any more.”

  * * *

  WITH Arek’s hoarse words, Imhara felt her whole body loosen, every muscle weakening to the point where she had to lock her legs to stop herself from sagging back down on the cushions. Her pulse pounded so hard she could hear it in her head.

  She flicked a glance at Savyr. He stared at Arek from beneath a half-hooded gaze, assessing, measuring, evaluating his sincerity. The utter coldness of his expression frightened her. Too often she’d seen that look during the Enclave, usually just before he executed someone. She held her breath.

  Beneath the iron-rich odor of Yrenna’s blood, the familiar heavy bitterness of Arek’s anger and hatred still lingered, but an acidic mix of guilt and shame diluted its potency.

  She felt sick knowing Yrenna and Arek’s lives balanced on Savyr’s mood. Would Arek’s abasement satisfy him?