“Retreat,” the vampire Rachen had immobilized said. “Hurry. Retreat.”
Upon hearing those words, the rest of Rachen’s foes started to disperse and change into their second shape. Rachen’s opponent did so as well, with striking ease given the size difference between his two forms.
Rachen registered all this distantly. He’d fallen on the ground, breathing hard and darkness encroaching on his vision. Overlords, he hated magical bullets. The worst thing was that in spite of the fact that he’d fallen, the shower of bullets hadn’t stopped, and it was all directed at him.
Lieutenant Zager noticed his predicament and threw an ice spell his way. It missed the vampire, but it did create an ice shield around Rachen that allowed him to retreat. The enchantment didn’t hold when faced with magical bullets, but it did buy Rachen some time. He tried to find refuge somewhere, and in the end, crawled behind a nearby vehicle.
His head was spinning, and his entire body seemed to radiate pain, but he refused to be ruled by it. He hated that he’d been taken by surprise, but he wouldn’t allow it to defeat him. He’d bypassed death itself—granted, with some help—but he wouldn’t be so easily sent to his knees.
Suppressing his nausea, Rachen went around the courtyard, noticing that his men were already trying to find the source of the gunshots. They didn’t get the chance to fully zero in on his or her location, because the shots stopped. However, in a surprising development, the vampires hadn’t left yet, as if they wanted to give the shooter time enough to pull back.
Fortunately, Rachen had a better idea of where his attacker was located. He did wish he could have ordered his men to stop the leader of the group, but there was no time for that now, as that particular vamp was nowhere to be seen. Or so Rachen thought, until he at last spotted the person who’d shot him. His vampire opponent was right next to the man, apparently having some trouble sticking to his shifted form. Rachen must have done more damage than he’d realized, because the second man had abandoned his gun in favor of offering his neck to the vampire. It was a strikingly intimate gesture, and Rachen might have actually felt guilty about interrupting if he hadn’t been all too aware that this vamp would have had no qualms about using Taryn’s baby against Hareem.
Rachen didn’t even think twice. He shot a spell at the vampire, propelling him back. The second man gasped and turned, reaching for his gun again. With a measure of dismay, Rachen realized the shooter was a fae. And here he’d thought that the Ivenians were on their side. When would he learn that sweeping generalizations never helped anyone?
Gathering every drop of strength, Rachen lunged at the fae. By some miracle, or rather, through the element of surprise, he managed to steal the gun from the man. He struck the fae’s temple with his fist and hissed in pain when instead of hitting him, he struck a shield.
Realizing that, in his condition, he couldn’t very well bypass the shields of an obviously experienced Ivenian soldier, Rachen pointed the gun at the man. He knew by now that the projectiles could bypass most shields. The only one who seemed exempt from this was Prince Talrasar, and no matter how powerful this fae might be, he certainly wasn’t Talrasar.
“Move a muscle and you’re dead,” Rachen said.
The vampire released a low growl and looked like he wanted to attack Rachen. He was welcome to try. Rachen wouldn’t bat an eyelash at shooting him, or the treacherous fae. Normally, he disliked firearms, but right now, he himself had been shot, and that put him in a pretty bad mood.
Besides, all he had to do was stall until the rest of his men gathered around him. Even if the combat was still ongoing, they’d find him soon without much effort. Hell, they just had to follow the blood.
He smirked at the vampire. “Just try it, Dracula. I’d love to return the favor and pump your boyfriend full of holes.”
He wasn’t even bluffing, and it must have shown. The vampire was far enough from him that he wouldn’t be able to reach either of them if Rachen decided to shoot. Of course, Rachen was also bleeding from several wounds and barely standing, but that made him more trigger happy and even angrier. He was clinging to consciousness through sheer will and the knowledge that, if he caught these men, he might be able to return to Draechenburg and take a brief leave of absence. Perhaps one he could spend at Alwyn’s side. That sounded a little heavenly, really.
Regardless, if his foes wanted to attack him, they’d have to take quite a chance, and they must have realized it. “Run,” the fae gasped out. “Your people need you, Stanton.”
Stanton—the vampire who’d led the attack—took one look at Rachen’s face and then at the fae. Something painful shifted in his eyes, something Rachen could almost empathize with.
“Let him go, draechen,” the vampire said. “He has nothing to do with it.”
“I beg to differ,” Rachen answered between gritted teeth. Overlords, he was in so much pain, but he had to hang on. This was important, and could provide them with the answers they’d been seeking for so long. “He got more than involved when he shot me.”
“It’s your own fault,” the vamp fumed.
“So you said,” Rachen replied. “You know what? If you don’t want your boyfriend to become a new brand of Swiss cheese, you’ll stay and provide some explanations.” A thought occurred to him and he smirked. “Hell, perhaps my brother won’t even eat him when he arrives. I think you said it to Taryn, right? An eye for an eye?”
He couldn’t be sure the fae was the vampire’s mate. Mostly, he was just mouthing off, stalling and using his pain… constructively. Sort of. However, guessing by the shock on both their faces, he’d called it right.
Truly, Rachen would have laughed if he’d had the energy for it. Instead, he kept his focus strictly on the fae, occasionally stealing glances at the vampire when Stanton looked like he was going to move. “Careful now,” he drawled, pointing the gun straight at the fae’s heart. “You wouldn’t want me to twitch.”
The vampire watched him like a vulture, just waiting for the moment when Rachen slipped up. Rachen suspected that he wouldn’t have to wait for much longer. The gun felt terribly heavy in his hand. But Rachen summoned the memory of Alwyn’s voice, telling him to come back. He recalled the way the beautiful sprite’s lips had pressed against his own in that chaste, shy kiss. He had to hang on, for Alwyn, for the man his dragon recognized as his mate.
Those memories kept him focused for the time he needed until at last, his men reached his side. “Get them,” he ordered. “The fae is the shooter and is the vampire’s mate.”
He didn’t need to say anything else. His soldiers already knew what to do. They surrounded Stanton and his fae like quiet shadows. Meanwhile, Lieutenant Zager approached Rachen.
“Are you all right, Highness?” he asked.
Rachen nodded, even if he didn’t really feel all right. The bullets were still embedded in his flesh, and until he got the projectiles out, he wouldn’t be able to heal or even shift. The last time, Talrasar had been there to help him through it, but now, there was no healer around. This had obviously been a mistake, and if—when—Rachen got out of this, he’d make sure that every time a company of draechen left on a mission, they’d have a fae with them. After all, it had worked well enough in the previous war with the werewolves and vampires.
Then again, the fae didn’t seem very friendly now. Rachen would have very much liked to have Sari or Talrasar’s attention, but that didn’t seem likely, not any time soon.
Realizing that even he had his limits, Rachen made a quick choice. As a rule, Rachen didn’t trust underlings just like that. He might not have been alive in his own body for too long, but he’d watched them work even when he’d been inside Karein. This time, however, he had no choice but to trust them to handle this.
And so, Rachen handed the gun to Sagenamadeen. His mind still on Alwyn’s soft lips, he prayed that the draechen guards would manage to hold onto the captured prisoners, finally surrendered to the pain, and crumbled to the ground.
* * * *
Hareem was desperate. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so frightened, lost, angry and… There were so many emotions in his heart that Hareem couldn’t even identify them all. Mostly, he could just hear his dragon, roaring for vengeance, urging him on and demanding to find Taryn at once.
How could he have been such an absolute idiot? Yes, the New York mansion was one of the safest draechen headquarters in the world. Otherwise, Hareem would have never sent Taryn there in the first place. But he should have expected something like this. He should have realized the vampires would strike back, and really, the New York base was far more vulnerable than Draechenburg itself. Not to mention that if the vampires had Taryn as a bargaining chip, Hareem would do practically anything.
Angry with himself, but mostly scared out of his mind, nearly feral with the terror, Hareem flew over the ocean. His wide blue wings were starting to ache, but he was only aware of it at a distant, intellectual level, as if a veil existed between him and his own body. He knew that several aircrafts were following him, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. Really, he wouldn’t have minded if humans saw him and he accidentally revealed the existence of the paranormal world. For him, only Taryn and their baby mattered now.
The last thing he’d registered was, fortunately, Taryn running away from the battle. However, his mate had been battered, bruised, and exhausted. And then, he’d run into that motorcycle, and Hareem had lost track of him.
Not even in his darkest nightmares had Hareem thought he’d experience such hellish terror. He could actually understand now what had pushed Karein into nearly murdering their father after he’d thought something had happened to Sari. He wanted to hunt down the guilty party behind this attack, too. But more than anything, he wanted to find his mate, to make sure Taryn and their child were both all right.
He flew for what seemed like forever, at one point becoming aware that more planes were coming toward him, this time from the American continent. Likely, this must be the work of one of his underlings, making sure that Hareem didn’t lose it and let the entire world know about the existence of the draechen. It was fortunate that draechen had agents all over the world, handling things like customs and flight plans, because otherwise they’d have been discovered long ago. Hareem couldn’t have cared less, just like he didn’t care about the empire. Whom had he left in charge of Draechenburg? Hareem couldn’t remember. In fact, he remembered very little except his mate’s beautiful face, his kindness, his intelligence, his innocent sensuality. A memory drifted into Hareem’s mind, of the way Taryn’s eyes had glittered with unshed tears when they’d last seen each other.
* * * *
Nauseous, Hareem clutched his mate’s arm and tried to hold himself aloft. His body seemed heavy and sluggish. He felt trapped in a form not his own, bound by restrictions he shouldn’t have had. Nevertheless, he tried not to let it show. Straightening his back, he glanced at the assembled group. “Rest assured that we will get to the bottom of this,” he said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I will be retreating to my quarters.”
He turned his back on his guests and headed out of the room, Taryn by his side. He could barely walk with his body in this deformed state, but his mate helped him along. Prince Talrasar trailed after them, and Hareem clung to the hope that the fae would manage to find a solution for this. It seemed to take forever, but at last, they reached his rooms.
“Please,” Taryn said to Talrasar, “help him.”
“I will do what I can,” Talrasar said, “although I must admit I’ve never seen such magic before.”
That wasn’t very comforting. Hareem tried to be optimistic, but he had a feeling that whoever had planned this entire ploy had anticipated fae magic.
His guess proved to be correct. Hareem obediently went through the entire healing process, but at the end, Talrasar disappointingly said he couldn’t help. And to add insult to injury, when Hareem tried to kiss his mate, he swept his tail over the floor, nearly harming Taryn in the process.
In that moment, Hareem realized there was only one thing he could do. He’d been foolish to believe that his position as emperor gave him the freedom to do what he pleased. He remained bound by traditions and expectations. While he was willing to pay the price, he couldn’t allow Taryn to be harmed because of it.
“Guards!” he cried out. “Get Prince Shtamakarein.”
His love for Taryn had always been impossible, but now, it had become a peril for the werewolf. There was only one thing he could do. In his selfishness, Hareem had tried to avoid the inevitable, but no longer. Taryn had known. He’d realized it much sooner. Werewolves didn’t belong with draechen, and no matter how much it hurt, Hareem would have to let his mate go.
Taryn clutched his arm, pleading eyes fixed on Hareem’s face. “No! Don’t do this, Hareem. Don’t send me away.”
“You wanted to go,” Hareem pointed out.
“I was mistaken,” Taryn answered, this time through their bond. “We belong together, Hareem. You know that. We both do. This is just a temporary problem. It’ll be fixed.”
Distantly, Hareem registered Talrasar slipping out of the room, but his focus remained on Taryn. Freeing his arm from Taryn’s grip, he replied, “Even if it is, there’s no telling what will happen next. My people will never accept a ninth caste as an emperor’s consort. Fate played a trick on us, Taryn. We simply can’t be together.”
“But, Hareem…” Tears glittered in Taryn’s eyes, tearing Hareem apart, hurting him more than any spell ever could. “I love you.”
There were so many things Hareem wanted to say, to do. He ached to take his mate in his arms, to hold him close and kiss the tears away. But that wasn’t possible anymore. Hareem was a monster, and that knowledge gave him the strength to do what was needed. He couldn’t deny his feelings for Taryn, since the werewolf would see right through his lie, so he didn’t even try. Instead, he said, “And I love you.” No longer using their bond, he added, “But it’s not enough. You can only ever be a concubine for me, and in my condition, there’s no point in keeping you here.”
Jagged pain coursed through Hareem, emanating from his bond with Taryn. Hareem forced himself to ignore it, telling himself that it was for the best, that his lover and child would be safe because of this sacrifice.
“I will be continuing my search for an official mate once more pressing political matters are solved,” he added. He did his best to keep his emotions in check, although he couldn’t fully manage it.
A tear slid down Taryn’s cheek. “So in other words, you don’t want us anymore?” He shook his head stubbornly. “No. I don’t believe that.”
“Believe what you will, and I will do what I must.”
Before Taryn could say anything else, a knock sounded at the door. “Enter,” Hareem called out.
Karein slid into the room, his dark eyes filled with wary regret. He must have guessed what Hareem had in mind. Or perhaps Prince Talrasar had told him about it. Either way, it didn’t really matter. Nothing, not even his brother’s intervention, could change Hareem’s decision now.
“You summoned me, brother?” Karein asked in a strikingly subdued voice.
“Yes,” Hareem replied. “I need you to take Taryn out of here. Fly him to New York in absolute secrecy and safety. I want him out of here as soon as possible.”
“Are you—”
“I’m certain,” Hareem cut his brother off before Karein could even finish speaking. “Now go, and please take Taryn with you. I need to be alone.”
“Hareem, don’t do this,” Taryn begged one more time. “We need each other. Surely, you can see that.”
Even if his heart was breaking, Hareem turned away from Taryn. He had to think about what was best for Taryn, not what he himself wanted.
“Come on, Taryn,” Karein said behind him. “Let’s go. You need to do some packing. Really, it’s better this way.”
Taryn didn’t say anything else. Likely, he wasn’t convinced by Karein’s enc
ouraging words. Nevertheless, he didn’t protest again. Instead, he allowed Karein to take hold of his arm and drag him away.
Even if he knew he was being a coward, Hareem didn’t watch him go. He squeezed his eyes shut, monitoring Taryn’s progress through their still very strong bond. Taryn couldn’t have missed the brush of Hareem’s consciousness, but he didn’t react in any way. It hurt, but Hareem had expected it. He steeled himself against the pain, gritting his teeth as his dragon reared out of him.
It wasn’t easy. In this twisted form, Hareem’s beast was even closer to the surface. It roared at him to stop this madness. Taryn and their child belonged by Hareem’s side. How could Hareem give up on his own mate, just like that?
Hareem reminded his beast that if Taryn stayed, he’d become a target. This poisoning scheme was likely just the beginning. Besides, breeding outside one’s own cast was against the law. Eventually, Hareem would have had to send Taryn away, even if it was just to maintain the secrecy of their child’s existence.
Still, in spite of this knowledge, Hareem couldn’t bear to see Taryn walk away from him and out of his life. Only when the door closed behind him did he finally turn and open his eyes. The room seemed strikingly empty without Taryn in it, like Hareem’s existence. But being an emperor came with a burden that Hareem had vowed to carry. And no matter what, that burden couldn’t fall on Taryn’s shoulders. Hareem wouldn’t allow it. He’d rather die before he allowed Taryn, or his child, to suffer because of his choices.
* * * *
It hurt to remember what he had done, to know that, in trying to protect Taryn, he might have made things worse. Overlords, what would Hareem do if he never found his mate?
By the time New York was finally in sight, Hareem was beyond despair and slowly losing the last of his sanity. The only thing that kept him going was the knowledge that his mate remained alive. Hareem could feel it, deep inside. He knew that, if Taryn stopped breathing, Hareem’s own heart would cease beating.
Emperor's Consort [Chronicles of the Shifter Directive 5] (Siren Publishing Epic Romance, ManLove) Page 7