The Stones of Resurrection

by Tameri Etherton

  Marissa’s mind raced with possibilities. Getting Taryn to leave Rhoane would be best, but Marissa doubted Taryn would venture to Gaarendahl alone. “Give me time to think about how to go about it.” Marissa fluttered her lashes at Zakael and asked in a little girl’s voice, “Do you really want to discuss this right now? It’s been ever so long since we’ve had a chance to play.” She ran her fingertips along the collar of her gown and tapped the little divot at the base of her throat.

  Zakael descended on her, his mouth sucking at her neck, his tongue scraping over her collarbone. She swooned against him, a current of power racing through her.

  With one swift movement, Zakael spun her around and held her hands behind her back. “No Mari, is that understood?” Her heart tripped in her chest. She’d consented to not using her power before; it was an easy enough promise to make. She nodded her acceptance.

  They marched to his bedchamber, she in front, he behind with a firm grip on her wrists. It was awkward to walk in such a manner, but Marissa made certain her bare feet made no sound on the wood floors. Zakael’s beasts raced down the corridor, their barks echoing off the stone walls.

  “Out,” Zakael ordered, and the dogs retreated to another part of the castle. Marissa was relieved. The animals always watched with a sense of judgment.

  Zakael released her hands and pulled her gown roughly over her shoulders, tossing the garment aside without a thought. “Kneel.”

  Marissa obeyed, her eyes focused on the floor in front of her. She loved this game of his. Loved the commanding tone in his voice, the way he could make her wild with pleasure, the way he made her feel cherished.

  He stepped out of her sight, and her skin tingled with excited expectation. She heard him rummaging through a drawer, and then he left the room completely. The wait for his return wasn’t long, but in the space of those few minutes, she became frantic with need. When finally he stood before her, he was naked, his cock hard. A drip of his pleasure teased her from the tip of his shaft.

  He gave a slight nod, and she flicked her tongue, catching the drop of salty sweetness. Zakael stroked her long curls, pressing her face against his thigh.

  “I have a surprise for you, but you must promise to be a good girl.” He pulled her hair until she looked up at him. “If you use your power, you will be punished.”

  A spiral of rebelliousness flared from her belly. His punishments were worth the crime. “I promise.”

  He beckoned with his other hand, and a lovely young man stepped from the shadows.

  A sliver of fear cut through her. “Zakael?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

  “Shhh, don’t fret. Eiric and I are going to take very good care of you.”

  Eiric’s smooth, lanky body gave him the look of a youth, perhaps no more than seventeen seasons. He moved beside Zakael and snaked a hand over his cock, stroking it while covering Zakael’s mouth with his own. The intimacy Eiric showed enraged Marissa. She’d never fooled herself into believing Zakael only bedded her, but they had an agreement that no lovers would be discussed. Or shared.

  She knelt between the two men, gazing up at them as they devoured each other in a soul scorching kiss that, despite her best intent, excited her. Zakael by turns stroked and tugged her hair. Her nipples tightened into little nubs, eager for attention. Eiric’s cock bumped against Zakael’s, and the older man gave a shuddering moan. Her jealousy spiked, and she lashed out with her power.

  “Enough!” Zakael glared down at her. At once, her Mari was cut off. She reached for it, desperately searched for it, but it was gone. A wall shut her out from her power.

  “How are you doing this?” Fear, real fear, coursed through her. To block another’s power was forbidden beyond all else.

  Zakael’s face relaxed, and her ShantiMari crept through her, embracing her like an errant lover. “Promise me, no power,” he demanded once more.

  “But, how?”

  Zakael shook his head and yanked on a strand of her hair. Shaken by Eiric’s presence and Zakael’s revelation that he could render her powerless, she nodded. “I promise.”

  “You must trust me,” he cupped her chin gently with his fingertips, “in all things.”

  “I do.” She looked up at him, meeting his hardened gaze with adulation. His hand cracked across her cheek, snapping her head back. She tasted blood, licked her lips for more.

  “Say it again.”

  “I trust you, Zakael.” This time a lash of leather whipped across her naked buttocks. Eiric stood behind her, waiting for Zakael’s command. Marissa’s insides clenched into a tight ball of hopeful expectation. Her blood thrummed through her, buzzing in her ears. Her vision swam, and she swayed back the slightest bit. Another crack of the lash and she pulled herself up to kneel before Zakael. “I trust you. In all things.”

  Please, one more lash.

  But it didn’t come. Instead, Zakael pushed himself into her mouth, tearing the delicate skin at the corner of her lips. She opened herself to him, taking him deep. He rocked against her, his eyes never leaving hers. Her hands cupped his balls, massaging them in time to his thrusts. She teased him with her tongue, scratched the soft skin with her teeth, all the while watching his face.

  The lash snapped hard against her back, making her cry out and gag on his thickness.

  Zakael gripped the back of her head. “Deeper.”

  Another lash and she began trembling. Her fingers faltered, pinching his scrotum. Another, harder crack across the tops of her thighs. That fragile area just beneath her arse where the skin was sensitive. Tears streamed down her face, and she choked on Zakael’s cock. She was suffocating, but his hand pressed harder. Panic overtook her, and she tried to pull back, flailed her arms to make contact with something, anything.

  “Breathe, Marissa,” Zakael cooed. “Trust me.” He stroked her hair, resumed his gentle thrusts. She relaxed into the movements, finding a rhythm. Eiric knelt behind her, and she stiffened, not knowing what to expect. “Easy now.” Zakael tapped her head, and she opened her jaw wider, pulled her lips over her teeth.

  With a shock, Marissa felt Eiric’s hands on her, rubbing the little nub between her legs. Pleasure jolted through her, and she twitched against his touch. Her breathing quickened. Her heartbeat throbbed in that small space. Zakael grew thicker in her mouth with his mounting release, and Marissa moaned into him, adjusting to take him deeper.

  Eiric’s fingers quickened their pace, slick with her wetness. Zakael pounded into her—harder, faster—until he groaned and thrust deep, spilling his seed. Marissa greedily sucked it in, milking his cock with her tongue and lips, hungry for more.

  Zakael slipped from her and motioned to Eiric, who stopped his wonderful ministrations. She whimpered her displeasure. The very hair on her skin stood on end, but they left her on the brink of being shattered.

  Careful not to touch her, Zakael and Eiric placed leather cuffs around her ankles and wrists. At Marissa’s worried glance, Zakael smiled with genuine pleasure and assured her she was safe. They pulled her arms and legs wide and secured her to the wall with cleverly disguised restraints.

  Unable to move, to touch herself for release—or to shield herself from their probing eyes—Marissa stared blankly at Zakael as he took Eiric to his bed. Unable to look away, she watched them make love in ways she never could. The ecstasy on Zakael’s face tore at her soul. They moved like lovers well accustomed to each other’s likes and dislikes. Tears shimmered in her eyes as Eiric took Zakael’s cock in his mouth, loving it the way she had only a short time ago.

  Zakael left the bed and knelt before her, looking up at her with as much adoration as she’d surely had for him. He slipped his tongue between her legs, instantly igniting the flames that burned brightest for him. Only him. His hands slid around to her buttocks, pinching tiny bits of skin between fingertips. Eiric rose too, and her breath caught with anticipation.

  He took her breast in his mouth, the warmth soothing her, his tongue grazing over her nipple, exciti
ng her. They worked in tandem, bringing her to the edge of delirium. At the first shudder of her release, Zakael pulled back, leaving her wanting, pulsing, waiting. She needed one more touch to send her over the precipice, but he left her and returned to the bed, where Eiric joined him.

  Marissa sobbed against her shoulder. Frustrated, confused, impotent. With heartbreaking clarity, she realized Zakael was not hers, had never been, would never be completely hers. And there, bound to the wall where she was forced to watch her lover with another, she concluded that she had never really been his, either. And yet, seeing him with Eiric, unable to use her ShantiMari, completely under Zakael’s control, she had never been more connected to him.

  Zakael turned from Eiric’s embrace and met her even stare. What passed between them in that instant was deeper, more binding, than any oath.

  Chapter Forty

  Taryn emptied the pouch on the bed, touching the multihued coins and gems. Hayden separated them, explaining the region and worth of each: gold crowns from Talaith, silver feathers from the Danuri Province, gems in several colors from Haversham, and more. Every kingdom or province made its own currency, which meant every piece had a different sum attached to it. A few of the coins were made from a black metal she’d never seen. Aergan, Hayden had called it. Its value was more precious than gold.

  Trying to remember it all gave Taryn a headache. She scooped up the lot, saying, “I think the best way for me to learn is to put this into practice. I’m going to the market. Would you like to join me?”

  “We must let Rhoane know you’re leaving the palace.”

  “It’s no big deal. I just want to get some gifts for my maids. If I could, I’d steal them away from here.”

  “A thief, eh? I should have you locked away in the dungeons.” Hayden brandished his sword, and they mock fought around his suite. When he swatted her behind, she called a truce, rubbing her backside.

  “You win! I won’t steal my maids.”

  Hayden set off to find Sabina while Taryn checked on Kaida. On impulse, she went to the kitchens to see whether Carga needed anything.

  After making an extensive list, Carga decided to join them, instead. The youth Taryn had met once, but often saw in the kitchen when she breakfasted with Carga, trailed them to the courtyard.

  “We have a stowaway.” Taryn glanced back to where Gris leaned against a tree, inspecting the hem of his shirt.

  “You may come along, Gris,” Carga finally agreed. “This will be good practice for when I send you on your own.” His face lit up, and he jogged to stand close to Carga.

  Hayden called out to them from where he waited in the courtyard. “The sun will be high above our heads soon enough. Let’s be on our way while there is still the sweetness of morning.”

  Baehlon stood with the other princesses, his arms crossed over his chest. He directed his ire at Taryn. “I should put you over my knee and paddle your arse until you can’t walk.”

  “What did I do?”

  “You would have left the palace grounds without alerting me. If I hadn’t run into young Hayden here, I might not have known you’d gone.”

  “I don’t need a babysitter to go shopping.”

  “Princess, you are too innocent for your own good.”

  Sabina took her arm. “Don’t worry, Taryn. You’ll get used to having guards accompany you. Back home, I was assigned four guards at all times. Imagine trying to have a private conversation with a quartet of soldiers standing only a pace away.”

  “You aren’t guarded here,” Taryn pointed out. “Won’t your father be upset?”

  “He doesn’t know. I have guards, don’t be mistaken about that, but they are staying with the other soldiers. I’ve paid them to send reports to my father saying exactly what he wants to hear.”

  “Who would’ve thought? Princess Sabina, a rebel.”

  The streets teemed with people trying to get their shopping done before the heat made the day miserable. Taryn cringed with each elbow that struck her wound. It seemed every basket or wayward hand they passed hit the mark. It had finally healed enough she’d stopped putting salve on it, but beneath the scar, it was still tender. She dodged the crowd as much as she could, keeping close to Baehlon, all the while worrying the wound might split open. She wrapped a hand protectively around her midsection.

  “Are you well?” Baehlon bent low to ask.

  “I didn’t know it would be so crowded.”

  The bells in his braids made a tinny sound when he shook his head. “We should turn back. I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  Taryn agreed, but the happiness on the other princesses’s faces stayed her words. It was rare they ventured from the palace; she didn’t want to take away their joy.

  “Gris and I need to meet with a merchant a few streets away. We will find you later, yes?” Carga and the boy slipped into the stream of people, disappearing before Taryn had a chance to reply.

  They wandered from stall to stall, looking at ribbons and trinkets. Taryn purchased several brightly colored ribbons for her maids in Paderau and some others for Cora and Ellie. The spice merchant Tabul treated them to tea, using his finest silver and tripping over himself in gratitude. Sabina spoke with the man at length about her homeland and then arranged for half a dozen spices to be delivered to the palace.

  After tea, they strolled through the streets, stopping at various merchants before wandering to the bookseller’s stall. Eliahnna and Taryn spent a good amount of time rummaging through the old texts. When the others became restless, they left the stall under protest, but with several volumes tucked into their baskets.

  Once in the open center of the square, the sun beat on them relentlessly. Several children ran past, and as Taryn stepped out of their way, she caught a brief glimpse of Rhoane in the distance. When she looked closer, he was gone.

  “Is something amiss?” Baehlon asked quietly.

  “Just the light playing tricks on my eyes.”

  Sabina led them to a produce stall with fruits and vegetables in every shape, color, and size. Tiny flies swarmed over the produce, drunk from the scents that lingered in the air. Melon, citrus, berry—it was intoxicating. Taryn delighted in everything she sampled.

  Flavors of sour and sweet tickled her tongue, sending shivers through her. It had been far too long since she’d had fruit this fresh. The palace cooks tended toward a heavy hand with sauces and spices that overtook the simple goodness of the food.

  Sabina squealed and picked up a round spiky apple. “Treplars!” She held the fruit to her nose, inhaling the heady scent. “Oh, how I adore them.”

  At her request, the merchant put several of the odd-looking things in her basket. Not stopping with just the treplars, Sabina pointed to other items until her basket was overflowing. When there was no room left in hers, she loaded up Taryn’s, as well.

  “I was not aware our goods were sold so far from the coast,” Sabina said by way of explanation for her indulgence.

  On their way to the next merchant, Taryn bit into what looked like a pear and was surprised that it tasted more like a watermelon. On impulse, she turned back to buy more, coming face-to-face with the shadow man from the tavern all those weeks ago.

  He stood not more than three paces from her, his hand on a dagger. Too stunned to move, Taryn stared at him. Black ShantiMari crisscrossed his body, swirling in a haze of motion when he moved.

  In one fluid step, he threw a dagger straight at her. Instinctively, she hid behind her basket. The blade impaled a treplar with an efficient squish. She lowered the basket and saw Gris race toward the man, fists raised. The stranger dodged a strike and grabbed Gris by the front of his tunic, tossing him aside as if he were a rag doll. His body hit a stone column with a deafening crack and slid to the ground, unmoving.

  Before she had time to react, Baehlon and Hayden had their swords drawn, facing the stranger. Behind him, Rhoane and a half-dozen soldiers stood with their swords held aloft. Myriad threads of ShantiMari wrapped aroun
d the stranger, binding him.

  “Your weapons.” Baehlon’s quiet voice held a deadly edge. He motioned to the ground. “Easy now and no one gets hurt.” His sword was inches from the man’s heart.

  The shadow man sneered at them before he looked Taryn full in the face. Nothing but hatred emanated from his ice blue eyes. She should’ve been frightened, but strangely, wasn’t. Curious, yes, but frightened, no. It was shock at seeing Gris casually battered, she told herself. Who was this man? What did he want? She was more interested in getting answers than worrying about her lack of emotion at the moment. His hood slipped, revealing golden hair that shone in the sun, and something stirred within her. Compassion, guilt. In a breath, it vanished. She took a step toward him, her hand outstretched. With a flash of light, he was gone, without a trace of ShantiMari for her to follow.

  “Ferran’s bells.” One look at Rhoane’s rage-filled face and the crowd slunk away into the background. He turned to Taryn, taking her by the shoulders. “Are you injured?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Rhoane spun her around and started walking quickly toward the palace. Two guards ushered Eliahnna, Tessa, and Sabina a step behind. “Is that the same man you saw before, when you were with Carga?”

  Taryn turned back. “Where is Carga? She’s still here. We can’t leave without her. And we need to see to Gris.”

  “They will be looked after. We need to get you back to the palace.” He pulled her along beside him. She held her basket of goods protectively to her chest.

  “But that man—he might find her.”

  “Never mind her. We must hurry.”

  The others raced with them through the palace gates. Hayden stayed behind to warn the guards of what happened. A barrier of ShantiMari rose over the palace walls, and her knees weakened.

  “Rhoane, what’s happening? Why are you rushing me?”

  He said nothing until they were safely inside. “Baehlon, find Faelara and Myrddin. Meet in my rooms. Hayden, find your father.” He turned to one of the guards. “I need you to inform Her Majesty of today’s events, but do not alarm her. Ask her to join us in my rooms. Take the princesses to their rooms, as well. Station guards at their doors.”