The Stone Prince i-1

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The Stone Prince i-1 Page 11

by Gena Showalter


  Hearing her words of devotion for his most hated enemy cut deeper than a sharp-edged talon. “By sending him to another world, you punished me. Does it please you to see me suffer?”

  “Your happiness means as much to me as his does, but I could not allow you to sentence your brother to a life of imprisonment.” Like a dark angel amid the white sands, she sank to her knees and scooped a handful of the tiny crystals, letting the grains sift between her fingers. One lone tear dripped into her palm, blending and thickening the sand. “Had I the power to break your curse, I would have done so instead of simply sending him away.”

  Percen’s nostrils flared. All of his childhood he had always prayed for this woman’s love, had craved it with every fiber of his being, yet he had found only emptiness. Always emptiness. He supposed he shouldn’t have blamed Alana for leaving him. What mother could adore a son so hideous to gaze upon? He knew his scarred, haggard exterior was, at times, too much to bear.

  ’Twas one of the reasons he hated Jorlan so passionately. Jorlan possessed the beauty of ancient legends and the strength of a warrior. With brawn unlike any other, the handsome giant felled his enemies with a deadly determination few possessed. Praise met his every action, unlike the dismal recognition Percen received when his own mystical powers were required. His magic should have been praised, his skills exalted.

  “He is your brother, Percen,” she said softly. “Set him free.”

  “He is my greatest foe, Mother. I will see him die first.”

  Her lips parted on another sigh, and she once again reached to touch him. He backed away. He would not accept comfort from her now.

  “You need a woman.” Absently, she scooped another handful of sand. “Someone to heal the hurts within you.”

  “What woman would have me?” He laughed, the sound harsh and bitter in his ears. “What woman would have a man whose skin is marred with so many scars? Whose body is twisted and bent?”

  She answered without hesitation. “The woman for you is the woman who can look beyond appearance and see the wonderful man inside.”

  “This from the woman who not only abandoned her first son, but also destroyed her second—”

  Her chin jerked up, and she spoke over his last words. “Do not say it. Do not say those words aloud.”

  “What? Do not speak your sins aloud for all of the Druinn to hear? I know what you did to the—”

  “Percen,” she once again cut him off, desperate this time. She stood to her full height. “That is enough.”

  He paused, considered her plea. “You are right. Your sins against the mortals matter little to me. In fact, I welcomed your deed.” His head fell back and he gazed up at the heavens. Twin moons glowed, creating shafts of violet light. Why could life not be simple? A man was supposed to live and love and die. Instead, he lived, he suffered, and he continued suffering. “To what world did you send Jorlan?”

  Her eyelids fluttered to a close, but not before he caught a glimpse of her relief. “I sent him far away where a loving maiden will one day set him free. He deserves a life of happiness.”

  “And I do not?” Percen slammed his fist against his palm.

  “I did not say that,” she gently assured him. “But your happiness does not lie in Jorlan’s suffering.”

  Aye, it did. Or mayhap…mayhap his redemption lay with another’s suffering. “I hardened Jorlan as surely as your neglect hardened my heart,” he said, more to himself than to her. “But mayhap I should have hardened you instead.”

  Once the words were spoken, he realized just how much he meant them. If she were stone, she could not say things that hurt him. Could not leave him alone and destitute. Could not choose Jorlan over him once again.

  She must have read his intent in his eyes, because she said, “Percen, do not do this,” and backed away. She even clasped her amulet to send herself to another plane.

  His powers were much stronger than hers; the Druinn had seen to that. By Elliea, she had seen to that. With a curl of his fingers, he froze her feet in place, making it impossible for her to move, physically or mystically.

  “It is past time you thought upon your actions and your choices. Were even Jorlan here, he could not save you from my spell. We both know he has not my magical abilities, yet you have always chosen the weaker of your sons. Think on that.”

  “Percen—”

  A grin curled at the edges of his lips. “Just remember, ’tis I, and I alone, who can free you from this spell. One of life’s ironies, I suppose, is that the same person who hurts you is the very one who can save you.” Not allowing himself to consider his own actions, he unsheathed his scepter and raised his arms high in the air. The jeweled hilt glistened in the moonlight, creating shafts of colored light that speared onto the sand.

  “Flesh and blood thou may be,” he chanted, focusing all his energy onto his mother, “but stone is all the eyes shall see.”

  “Do not do this,” she uttered once more, her eyes wide with horror.

  He closed his ears to her pleas. Had she listened to his pleas all those spans ago? Nay. She had seemed all too eager to abandon him. Scowling, he finished his curse. “Cold as marble, hard as rock, with this curse I thee lock. The Stone Queen you shall forever be, unless my life’s blood sets you free.”

  Wind suddenly burst forth, beating through the night like a devil’s breath. Lightning erupted from the sky and crashed against the sands. Bit by bit, her flesh hardened to silver stone.

  There. ’Twas done.

  But he did not feel the relief, the ease of suffering, he’d hoped for. Nay, he felt…shame, a trickle of sorrow and need. Deep, abiding need for all that he’d ever longed for, but had never possessed. He reached out, then let his hand fall to his side. She stood so beautifully before him.

  His shoulders slumped. “Should I set you free already?” he asked, though he knew he wouldn’t. “I am going to search for Jorlan. You know that, do you not? Just because you sent him to another world does not mean I cannot find him.”

  Overhead, the stars slowly disappeared as thick gray clouds formed. A roll of thunder echoed, then stilled. It was as if the emotions churning inside him were changing the weather. “You and I both know time passes differently from one world to the next. One day has passed in Imperia, but how many days have passed for Jorlan? Is he free? If so, is he old and wasted away? No matter what his age, what his life, I will bring him home. Time and distance have no hold upon me.”

  Percen knew he shouldn’t leave Imperia. But he would do it. He would take leave of this world and never return if it meant finding his brother. The Druinn needed him, for something dark hovered just over the horizon. Something the citizens of this land were not prepared for. He did not know what it was, a war, mayhap, but he knew many lives would be lost soon. Yet his vengeance meant more to him than the safety of his world.

  Droplets of rain began to fall, splattering upon the sand and stone. Several drops landed on his mother’s face and ran down her cheeks like tears. “If I present him to you, will your heart fill with joy and make you at last feel tenderness for me? True tenderness, not the empty emotion you professed this day?”

  Silence.

  Silence so thick it cast an oppressive shadow across the white sands, and at that moment it seemed as if even the rain dared not pitter-patter. Percen dropped to his knees, pressed his forehead against her midriff, all the while craving her arms around his shoulders. “If I give him back to you, will you truly love me? Mayhap even love me more than you love him?”

  Again, silence.

  He expected nothing different, but could not stop himself from hoping for a sign that she heard him, that she welcomed his need to please her. But as he gazed up at her face, her expression clearly proclaimed: You are my greatest disappointment.

  And it did not have to be so.

  “I will find him,” Percen said finally. Purposefully. He pushed to his feet and stroked a hand across her soft white cheek. “I will search the galaxies, if n
eed be, and find exactly where you sent him. And then, sweet Mother, I will bring him back to you.”

  Broken and destroyed.

  EIGHT

  WHILE KATIE MANEUVERED the enchanted transportation along the winding roads, Jorlan weighed his options. The woman was obviously in a temper. Her breath was coming in short, shallow pants and her fingers were clutching the steering wheel as if it would fly out the window if she let go. He needed to gently sway her from her pique so that she could at last admit her desires for him. But how?

  He could make her laugh with a story of his childhood. He could whisper sweet, seductive words in her ear. Or he could simply wait until her anger crumbled on its own.

  “I don’t think this is going to work between us, Jorlan,” she said.

  A dark, primitive blaze uncurled inside him. “It will.”

  “Of course it works for you. You gain everything and lose nothing.”

  “So I must lose something to win you? Then so be it. Name it and it is gone.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I have less than thirteen days, katya. ’Tis a mere flash.” He had considered begging before, dropping to his knees and begging her for her affections. His desire for permanent freedom far surpassed any pride he harbored. “You have only to tell me what you need of me and I will do it.”

  “I don’t know what I want from you, okay? I only know I can’t give my heart or body easily. Besides that, it’s hard to think of you as the love of my life when I know you consider me nothing more than a necessary burden.”

  “Then I—”

  “We’re from different worlds,” she rushed on, slicing his apology to a halt. “I have enough trouble with Earth men.”

  “Just because you have trouble with men of your own world,” he growled, “does not mean you will have trouble with a man of Imperia.”

  “No, it just means I have trouble with any man who wants to screw everything female.” Katie parked the vehicle, emerged, then strode inside the old house, all without uttering another word. She was beyond angry now, that much was obvious. Her shoulders had been stiff and her chin high and she had never once glanced back to see if he followed. He didn’t. He remained within the enchanted transportation.

  The day was not fraught with the promise he’d first supposed.

  Screw everything female? He had already proved those words for the falsehood they were by declining the girl, but he only now realized the full extent of what had transpired inside the café. He, a man who had been without bodily contact for more than nine hundred spans, had been unable to summon a single shred of awareness for any woman save Katie since obtaining his freedom.

  The simple fact was that he was fast becoming obsessed with Katie.

  “Katie,” he said, wanting to hear her name aloud. “Pretty, courageous Katie James. How can I want you so desperately, yet want no other?” Though he hated himself for it, he did want her desperately. Wanted, if only for a little while, to be the center of her life. Wanted to tear down her resistance and bend her so completely to his will that he could take her whenever, wherever he wanted. More than that, he wanted her cries of love to ring in his ears long after he left her.

  For the first time, however, he considered what would happen to her if he were to win her. Would she suffer greatly if she fell in love with him and he simply abandoned her? Curse it, she claimed she did not need a man’s protection, physically or emotionally. Why should he consider her well-being his responsibility?

  Obsessed. Aye, he truly was obsessed, for not even Maylyn had affected him like this. He’d thought of her, but not constantly and she had never confused him. He’d wanted her, but it had been a gentle kind of want, a need to cherish and show tenderness. Now, with Katie, he felt anything but gentle, and all traces of tenderness had already dissipated. He felt an ache, an all-consuming desire that constantly battered against his reservations. He felt a need to dominate, a need to ride her harder than he’d ever ridden a woman.

  What did it mean that he simply had to have her, whether she returned his affection or not? That he simply had to taste more of her? Her lips were too sweet, her scent too delectable, and her body too ripe. What did it mean that a part of him was willing to wait forever, if need be, to have her?

  He didn’t want to contemplate the answer.

  The air inside the transportation was hot, cloistering, and sweat dripped down his chest. Still he made no move to leave. He needed more time to gather his wits. Closing his eyes, he thought back over Katie’s reasons for ending their kiss. They did not like each other, she had said. He liked her all too well. She thought he still considered her a necessary burden. She was necessary, but no longer a burden. They did not know each other, she had said. He did not like discussing his life, but he would do it, tell her anything she wanted to hear.

  Aye, he would do whatever was required to gain her favor. In the process, he would do whatever was required to rid himself of his fascination with her.

  Resolved, he emerged from the vehicle and followed the path Katie had taken.

  KATIE SERIOUSLY CONSIDERED doing a dropkick and punch right into Jorlan’s solar plexus, followed by a knee to the groin, and as a finale, taking his rolling pin and bashing him over the head. The man was entirely too confident, too cocky (in every way) and most assuredly a jackass. And to top it off, he was too damn sexy for his own good.

  Even the redhead had noticed.

  Just thinking about the redhead sent her already heated blood into a serious boil. Where is that rolling pin? she thought savagely. Where is it? At the moment, she’d even settle for the spatula. Jorlan might need her love, might want to use her body, but he still wanted to sleep with every woman he encountered. Yes, he was a jackass and a womanizer and there was no way in hell Katie was falling for him.

  She paced the living-room floor, her movements clipped, jerky. The soles of her shoes squeaked with each step. Her palms were clenched so tightly her nails dug half-moon crescents into her skin, and her knuckles had long since lost all traces of color. Five minutes later, her muscles were still clenched. Somehow, and God only knew how, she managed to paste a carefree smile on her face when the screen door groaned in protest and Jorlan entered the house. His massive frame filled the entrance.

  “You are tense,” was the first thing he said.

  Tense! Tense! She rounded on him, one finger pointed at his chest. “Are you blind? I’ve never been more relaxed in my life.”

  One inky brow rose in mocking salute. “Then why is your eye twitching?”

  She spun away from him, blocking his view of her face. “There’s something in it. An eyelash, I think.”

  “Then there is no need to tell you that the girl—”

  “Girl? What girl?” Katie tried for a carefree laugh, but couldn’t quite manage it. Jorlan could do what he pleased, with whom he pleased, and show interest in little redheads all freaking day if he wished. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Then allow me to remind you,” he said at last. Silently, he moved behind her, placed his fingers at the base of her neck and gave a gentle squeeze. He bent down, allowing his breath to fan her ear. “The girl found me desirable. Had I shown any interest, I could have had her sooner rather than later,” he said.

  Lord, she both hated and loved his words. “You showed no interest?”

  “Nay.”

  Slowly, she released a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding.

  “I should have been interested,” he added in a self-disgusted growl. “She was a woman who knew what she wanted and was not afraid to try and obtain it.”

  “Just what are you implying?” Katie spun around to confront him. “That I’m too cowardly to go after what I want?”

  He clasped a pale lock of hair from her ponytail and brushed the strands across his lips.

  She shivered.

  His gaze locked with hers. “That is exactly what I am saying, katya. You have been afraid of what I make
you feel since the beginning.”

  “That may be true,” she retorted, “but how dare you judge me? You don’t know me, not my likes, my dislikes or my past. You have no idea what made me the woman that I am.”

  “You are right,” he said, his voice just as dark. “I do not understand you, nor do I know much about what makes you do and say the things that you do.” Then, “But I would like to.”

  But I would like to, echoed so sweetly in her mind and so shocked her, she could only blink up at him. His tyrannical disposition she could resist. This…gentle caring she could not. Suspicions sparked in the back of her mind, like a candle in a shadowy room. “Is this a ploy to make me fall in love with you?”

  He ignored her question. “From the moment I first appeared to you, you have driven me half-mad. I cannot explain the connection between us, but I do know that it is there.”

  This was everything she’d ever wanted to hear from him, and yet self-preservation proved tenacious, clinging to her with a sharp grip. “What you’re saying is wonderful, and I want to believe you. I do. But how can I truly believe that you’re interested in me as a person and not just my love?”

  “Can I not say the same to you?” he demanded quietly.

  He could, she realized then. He really could. Since he first appeared in her garden, she had lusted after him like he was the last piece of chocolate in a PMS survival kit. She probably would have slept with him already if he’d claimed just once to love her or even that he would stick around for a while. But she’d never once stopped to consider the man beneath the brawn.

  He lightly fingered her earlobe. “I want you to know about me, and I want to know more about you.”

  “What do you know about me already?” She didn’t mean to sound so desperate, like a child pleading for assurance, but she just couldn’t help herself. Things were changing between them with every word he spoke, and she liked the changes. Maybe too much.

 

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