9781618851307WitchsBrewShayNC

by Unknown

  Better to kill her and take Saylym for his mate. He snorted. He could easily intimidate the bungling witch. He strongly doubted the Winslow witch was of royal blood, but MeLora knew things he didn’t. He couldn’t discard the possibility or the opportunity to breed a royal-blooded witch. The powers he would gain from such a union would make him invincible.

  The necessity to set his plans in motion grew darker and increasingly urgent with every chant of Black Magick he uttered. To succeed, he required more power. MeLora could not supply that power. Saylym could, if she was what MeLora believed her to be.

  Having deliberately chosen Captain Koran T to possess, he waited impatiently in the cold night air for the opportunity to strike. The captain had the authority to enter the palace without arousing suspicion or being stopped by the inner guards stationed within the palace.

  And the captain’s attractive face appealed to female witches of all ages. Koran T was a handsome young waken and the younger witches tittered around him at every opportunity. Even though witches freely offered the use of their bodies during Beltane, it was also rumored that the waken showed a remarkable lack of interest.

  The captain was tall, muscular, and took his duties as Captain of the Guards revoltingly seriously. As a no-nonsense waken who rarely smiled, Captain Koran T had a reputation for being hot-tempered, but fair to the wakens under his command.

  He was what was known in the witch world as a Pink.

  Most wakens possessed dark skin, dark hair, and had eyes that were the deeper, richer shades of semi-precious stones. The striations appeared only at Beltane or during mating and varied from waken to waken.

  Koran T’s eyes were an unusual shade of ice blue with the palest hint of pink around the iris. The blue and pink pigments were so pale, his eyes were nearly colorless. His hair was a shade of blond as to be almost white, and it lay across his shoulders like white-gold. It was extremely rare to see a waken with this coloring and fairness and it indicated a stained bloodline.

  Reputed to be as tough as nails, the captain had acquired a reputation for being dangerous if provoked. He wasn’t a waken one wanted to tangle with, unless one managed to catch him off-guard and made him defenseless.

  That was going to be hard to do.

  Black Drayke waited, lurking in the shadows, plotting to catch Koran T off-guard and inhabit his rugged body.

  But the good captain had been away from his post for the better part of an hour and it didn’t appear he was going to return any time soon.

  Black Drayke swore violently as his frustration mounted. All his plans now depended on the captain being at his post tonight. When he inhabited Captain Koran T’s body, he’d tell him a thing or two about remaining where he was assigned.

  Black Drayke snarled and muttered beneath his breath. What in the name of the gods’ kind of captain deserted his post?

  What kind of protection was that for the king and queen?

  Ah, the poor King. Even now, MeLora was inside the palace. At this very moment, she was most likely weaving her Black Magick around King Darak.

  His smile turned cold. MeLora was good at Black Magick. MeLora was good at many things, but not good enough to be the mother of the future king. He was glad he’d understood this before it was too late. Now that the wizard had come through with his potions, all his plans could be realized.

  Black Drayke paced in the shadows and threw venomous looks at the palace, but at this moment, his hands might as well have been tied behind his back. He could not get past the posted guards or their keen magic, and nor could he enter the queen’s chambers as Black Drayke.

  Where in hell was Captain Koran T?

  * * * *

  Captain Koran T stood at attention before King Darak and Queen Helayne in their private chambers. He choked back the angry snarl he felt like emitting. He couldn’t very well rage at the royal couple.

  Instead, he eyed the king with a mixture of curiosity and a certain amount of caution. He’d worked his way up the ranks to get where he was, ignoring the frequent remarks about his bloodline. He hadn’t lost his temper then and he had no intention of losing it, or his position, now. So he listened to the king outline his plan and reined in the need to knock King Darak on his royal ass.

  When the king finally grew silent, he gave a slight nod and asked, “Why me, Your Majesty?”

  King Darak met the Captain of his Guard’s pale eyes with a level look. “Because my sons are away on assignment. For their continued safety, there was no choice but to get them out of Droth before all hell breaks loose. That leaves you, Captain. You’re the only other man I trust with my daughter’s safety.”

  Koran T felt color heat his face at the royal compliment. “You want me to escort Princess Kali here for the Beltane season? To the palace, Sire?”

  Darak’s brows snapped together in a frown. “Absolutely not! Under no circumstances are you to bring my daughter to the palace. Not until you have received word from me personally that all is well. You will escort her to Valerian’s castle and remain there with her until further notice.”

  Koran T’s ice-blue eyes widened, the pink striations darkening with shock. “You want me to take her to the illumrof world? And stay at a vampire’s lair?”

  He couldn’t hide his incredulity, but more shocking was the fact that the king had ordered him to remain with the princess. Alone. Just the two of them. At Beltane.

  “Valerian would never harm Kali,” the queen said softly. “He’s aware of your pending arrival and has readied the west end of the castle for your occupancy.”

  And what about me? My blood is tainted with the sins of my forefathers.

  He could very well harm Kali.

  “But…it’s rising Beltane,” Koran T said hoarsely.

  No! He couldn’t do this. They couldn’t ask this of him. They had to be crazy ordering him to spend an unspecified amount of time alone with their very beautiful, but unpredictable daughter. He-he…he knew what he’d do, and he’d end up with his head served to the king and queen. Sonofabitch!

  “Believe us, Captain, we’re very aware of the season,” the king replied dryly.

  Inwardly, Koran T squirmed. Did he have a choice in the matter? He barely kept from snorting. Not likely. He was under royal command. The gods save him, because for certain, he couldn’t save himself. Either way, he was a dead man.

  He couldn’t keep the ice from his voice. “I’m sure you’re both aware the princess isn’t going to like me removing her from the academy. She isn’t likely to make it easy.”

  “You will employ whatever means are necessary to get Kali to safety, even if you have to gag and bind her. She is in the utmost peril, Captain.”

  “Bind?” Koran T swallowed hard. As in bond?

  He searched the king’s eyes but found only anxiety in the shimmering green pools.

  Had he heard the king correctly? Assessed his meaning accurately?

  Was King Darak, in fact, giving his blessing for him to mate with Princess Kali?

  He shook his head. There was no way the royal couple were simply handing their daughter over to him trussed up like a damn turkey waiting for him to breed her. Not him! Not with his bloodline in question.

  What the hell was going on?

  “We trust your judgment in this matter, Captain. We have no doubt you can handle our headstrong daughter. You will take your leave immediately,” Darak ordered, not allowing him a chance to ask further questions. “You will not contact me for any reason. You will wait for me to contact you. That is when you will know it is safe to bring Kali home. Is everything clear, Captain?”

  As mud!

  Koran T bowed. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  He turned on his boot-heel and started to the door, his temper in shreds. They were truly nuts! Did they think, believe for a minute, he could or would keep his hands off the princess at Beltane?

  Not hardly.

  So this was it then. This was how he’d go down. The king and queen had set him up for a
fall and fall he would, but he swore he’d take the lovely, but stubborn princess with him.

  “Captain?”

  Koran T halted his long strides at the king’s voice and turned around. “Sire?”

  He kept his face blank and smooth, no betrayal of the inner rage seething through his blood.

  “We know our daughter’s a handful. Try not to think of this as a punishment.”

  “Your Majesty, I–”

  “Think of it as a gift, a very precious one.”

  By the gods, there was no mistaking the king’s message. They’d just handed their daughter over to him to do with as he pleased. How could they do that?

  “We trust that no matter what happens between you and the princess, you’ll do the right thing.”

  “Of course, Your Majesty.”

  “Other than Valerian, trust no one outside the members of the royal family,” the king warned. “And if the time should ever come, never turn your back on Black Drayke.”

  “I never do, Your Majesty.”

  “And Captain,” Helayne said softly. “Good luck. Where our daughter’s concerned, you’ll need it.”

  Koran T’s lips tightened. “Yes, Your Majesty. I’m afraid you are correct. She hates me, you know.”

  Helayne’s amber-colored eyes sparkled with silent laughter. “Then it is up to you to change her mind…and her heart.”

  “Your Majesty?” Koran T choked. “I’d never touch—”

  “We trust you, Captain,” the king interrupted. “Go. And guard your back. Always guard your back and cover your trail.”

  “Yes, Sire.” Koran T closed the door softly behind him.

  Helayne flicked her mate a questioning glance. “Poor man, he doesn’t know what to think.”

  “I think he comprehended our message just fine, my dear. It’ll take him awhile to accept he has our blessing, but he’s a male, and it’s Beltane. He’ll claim Kali.”

  “You are aware the captain’s in love with our daughter?”

  “Of course.” Darak nodded. “That’s why I trust him to see to her safety. He’ll not allow any harm to come to her.”

  Helayne frowned. “We do him an injustice, Your Majesty. It’s Beltane. He’s a virile waken and in love.” She swallowed hard. “But he’s a man of honor. He’ll be torn between duty and lust.”

  Darak laughed. “Trust me, my queen, lust always win. He will claim her.” Darak took his mate’s hand and gently squeezed it. “We knew that before we decided to send him to her. Let’s hope he loves her enough to be gentle when he mates with her the first time.”

  Helayne blinked back tears. “Kali would never settle for gentle.”

  Darak grinned and brushed a kiss against her lips. “I know, my queen,” he said tenderly. “That’s another reason I chose Koran T. Kali needs a strong man, one who can handle her but one who loves her as well.”

  Helayne sighed. “And what of our son? Talon? You approve of this interest he has in an Impure? I don’t understand why he’s been commanded to Handfast with her. I know you realize the risks if they should have a child together. The child’s ability to perform magic will be unstable.”

  “I did not make the command, the High Wizard did. By law, I cannot overrule his decision.”

  Helayne hesitated a moment, clasping her mate’s hands in her own and returning his light squeeze. “You know what Vox told us. Talon couldn’t steal her soul. That means he must Handfast with her if he wishes to save her soul from exile. An Impure, Your Majesty.”

  “I know, but if it’s true that Talon is in love with this witch, he’ll bond with her. The Wise Owl has said it will be and Katch has commanded it so.”

  “How do you think Talon will feel about Vox betraying his confidence to you?”

  Vox wasn’t betraying Talon. He’s the all-knowing Wise Owl. He was simply stating what he saw and heard and how it affected Talon. Trust me. His loyalties are to our son. I would see Talon happy, Helayne, that’s all that’s important. If he and this Impure breed a child, whether the child can perform magic or not, he’ll be loved. Will he not?”

  “He?” Helayne sounded startled. “Did the Wise Owl also tell you their first babe would be a boy?”

  The king reddened. “Of course not, but we know it will be so.”

  Helayne dipped her head, smiling. “You’re wise and knowledgeable, my love. I’m sure you’d manage to command that the first grandchild be a boy.”

  A knock sounded on their chamber door. “Who would dare disturb us here?” asked Darak.

  Helayne shook her head.

  Darak opened the door to Lieutenant Mavik, Koran T’s second in command.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, Your Majesty.” Mavik shifted from foot to foot, his discomfort at disturbing the king in his private chambers apparent. “But there’s a witch waiting to talk to you in the council chambers. She insists it’s important.”

  “Not tonight, Lieutenant. I’ve settled in with my queen. Tell her to make an appointment and come back tomorrow.”

  “No, Darak,” Helayne said quietly. “You can’t turn away one of your subjects. Go talk to her. I’m sure it’s important or she wouldn’t be here this late.”

  Darak frowned. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”

  “I’ll be fine. If I need you, I shall scream.”

  Darak chuckled. “Very well. But this could take a while.”

  “Go, I’ll be here when you return.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  George Burroughs was arrested in Wells, Maine.

  ~ Salem Witch Trials

  May 4, 1692

  Page Entry…

  In 1556, Queen Shy-Ryn refused to allow the wakens past the magical gates of Sanctuary. The coven would no longer mate with the males of their species, but sought to procreate with mortal men instead. Thus, a new species―Impures, were conceived, diluting the pure bloodline of the race. The wakens took immediate dislike of this new breed. They distrusted and detested them and forbid their entrance to the immortal realms.

  Shy-Ryn’s sister, Elsbeth, along with the rest of the coven, sought mates during Beltane in the mortal world. In the spring of 1683, Elsbeth met and fell in love with John Connor, a mortal male.

  Although it was not Shy-Ryn’s intent for any of the witches to bond with an illumrof male, Elsbeth turned away from the coven and bonded with John against the queen’s wishes.

  Two years after they wed, Elsbeth presented John with their firstborn, a daughter, Nyra. Two seasons later, a second child, Kirrah, was conceived and born on All Hallows’ Eve as are all witches.

  Two years after Kirrah, Saylym was delivered one minute after All Hallows’ Eve. Of the three daughters, Saylym was the only one who bore the mystical, swirling tri-colored eyes of her grandfather, the High Priest sorcerer, Katch.

  ~From the History of the Winslow Witches.

  In the Year of Samhain, 1690

  Ru-Noc

  Droth

  City of the wakens

  MeLora Haven paced the length of the chamber room, furious that King Darak took so long to make his appearance.

  How dare he keep her waiting?

  Did he not realize who she was?

  She turned as the door opened and closed, admitting the king.

  “Your Majesty,” she gasped, curtsying as she wiped the anger from her face. “I’m so sorry to bother you at such a late hour.”

  She rushed over to Darak and grasped his hands. She allowed her fingers to tremble and lowered her gaze.

  For a moment, Darak was taken aback at the sight of such a young, desirable witch rushing toward him. He grunted as she flung herself into his arms and pressed her face against his chest.

  “Oh, Your Majesty,” she sobbed. “I’m so ashamed that I have allowed my fear to overrule my judgment. I should not be imposing on you at such a late hour.”

  “Now, now, my dear,” Darak said gruffly, patting her back in a soothing manner. “No need to worry your pretty little head about such thi
ngs. You’re a female, and females are naturally timid. You must be calm. Tell me what has you in such a dither.”

  MeLora gave a delicate shudder and pressed closer. “I’ve heard a terrible rumor, Your Majesty. It frightens me so. I don’t know if I have the strength to tell it. I’m but a humble witch and bow to your greater strength.”

  She leaned back, thrusting her full breasts upward giving him a bird’s eye view of her generous cleavage. Swiftly, she grabbed his hands and pressed them to her bosom. “Feel how my heart pounds with fright, Your Majesty.”

  Darak swallowed hard, suddenly realizing he had a very sensual witch in his arms. And two hands closed around firm, luscious breasts and…it was Beltane. The season was upon them and the gods help him, it was promising to be a fruitful season.

  And a lustful one.

  The witch’s mating scent flooded his nostrils. Oh, she was deliciously hot! The rich spiciness of her fragrance slammed into his lungs and shot straight to his groin. Hot and heady.

  Intoxicating.

  Darak felt his manhood twitch, rise, and begin to throb with urgency.

  Oh, this wouldn’t do. This wouldn’t do at all. Helayne would kill him!

  Worse, she’d cast a spell on his uh-huh and shrivel it to the size of a worm.

  He shuddered. Just thinking about fucking this beauty—well—he wasn’t crazy enough to bring Helayne’s wrath crashing down on his head. Darak cleared his throat and stepped back from the tempting witch. His palms tingled as he reluctantly released her breasts. “Nonsense. You summoned me, so tell me. I want to know what has you frightened, my dear.”

  Gods help him. He didn’t really want to know one damn thing this sexy witch had to say. He might enjoy the feel of those bountiful breasts in his hands, even fantasize about getting in her panties, but that was normal reactions for a virile waken at approaching Beltane. There wasn’t a male walking who wouldn’t want to cast the beauty down, flip up her gown, and shove his cock inside her.