by Brenda Trim
King of Khoth
Dark Warrior Alliance Book 9
Brenda Trim
Tami Julka
Contents
Untitled
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
EXCERPT FROM ICE WARRIOR BOOK #10
Author’s Note
Other Works By Trim and Julka
Other Works By Trim and Julka
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Copyright © August 2017 by Brenda Trim and Tami Julka
eISBN: 978-1-63587-817-2
Editor: Amanda Fitzpatrick
Cover Art by Trish at Pickyme
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writers’ imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction of this work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the authors.
Life is a journey, and no one determines your path, but you. Choose your road, and own every step you take. #NOFEAR
Prologue
Twelve months earlier…
Moving was arduous and breathing unmanageable, but that wasn’t what had her heart racing and sweat slicking her palms. She blinked rapidly and stared at the odd pointy ceiling, grappling to determine who she was. All that met her considerable efforts was a big, fat blank. Nothing at all came to mind when she attempted to pull up her name.
Tears burned her eyes and threatened to spill down her cheeks. What had happened to her that she couldn’t remember anything?
To worsen matters, she had no idea where she was or how she got there. How she came to be in her current predicament seemed like a pretty important issue given she could be in danger.
And, she was exhausted. Bone-tired, to be exact. Her body felt as if it had been asleep forever, yet gotten no rest. Lethargy pulled at her limbs, making them heavy and cumbersome, but thankfully it wasn’t painful, telling her she wasn’t ill. She quickly scanned the length of her body and spotted no injuries, which was a good sign. Maybe she wasn’t in immediate danger.
The smidge of relief passed when she focused on the last thing she could remember. Faceted green eyes flashed in her mind, followed by utter terror.
She may not know who she was or where she was, but someone had meant her harm. A sudden gratitude at being alive replaced fear and panic. Her situation could be so much worse. She could be dead.
Unfortunately, feelings of being lost, alone and frustrated returned, making her fists clench as she fought back tears. What had happened to put her in this position?
A sudden, intense pain wracked her middle, and she clutched her stomach. The pain spread from her abdomen to her limbs, and her whole body throbbed.
Water. She needed water.
Her mouth was dry as a desert, but it wasn’t mere thirst she needed to assuage. What she desperately craved was submerging in water, and she had no idea why that need was so urgent.
Shaking her head at the absurd thoughts racing through her mind, she sat up slowly and glanced around. She was lying on a surprisingly comfortable surface, given the stone and rock that surrounded her. Further inspection told her she was lying on a bed of feathers. How the hell could she know that fact and not her name?
Tears of frustration bloomed again, and her heart galloped in her chest. It was tough to concentrate with the roar of blood rushing through her veins and the waterworks blurring her vision.
Her arm swiped across her face, clearing her view. She was in a dimly lit cavern. Ok, she told herself. Focus on what you can make sense of and leave the rest for later. It was easier when she pushed aside the fear and aggravation.
The pointy stones were stalactites growing down from the roof of the cave. Again, her mind provided more useless details but held the most important ones at bay.
The only sound she heard nearby was dripping water, which told her she was probably alone. Feeling safer, she swung her legs over the side of the featherbed, and noticed it rested on a stone platform, keeping her off the hard, damp floor. The room’s illumination came from floating balls of light.
Magic, her mind whispered.
That was odd, and had chills skating across her skin. Ignoring the mounting irritation, she felt a pulse of foreign power surrounding the cave. It grated against her skin like sandpaper, highly irritating and uncomfortable.
There was a long, low table with various objects spread out across it. Wanting to get a closer look, she lowered herself to the ground. Testing her legs, she faltered and nearly fell. Weakness had her gripping the platform to keep upright.
Taking a minute to steady her legs, she laid her head down on the plush featherbed. The sheets were so soft compared to the rougher material she was wearing. She ran a hand across the navy plaid pattern on the skirt. The sight brought a lump to her throat, and her heart skipped a beat, but she had no idea why. To her knowledge, she’d never seen the dress before.
Refusing to get bogged down by confusion, she lifted her head and noticed the soft pillow was clean. So were the sheets. Her mind told her she’d been asleep for a long time, but unless there was someone taking care of her, the items should be filthy.
For that matter, she should be soaked to the bone, given the damp atmosphere. The stone walls were slick and shiny from water dripping down. The stalactites above were the same. Dirt covered the floor, and there were creepy bugs everywhere. But thankfully, none near her. Another glance at the magical balls of light told her there was more at play.
As she focused on the ceiling, a drop of water made it’s way down a formation towards her. Expecting it to fall into her hair, she was surprised to see it hit an invisible barrier and roll away to the edge of the cavern.
There was a force field surrounding her. The question was, who cast it? Whoever did it wasn’t out to harm her or she’d be in worse physical shape.
Correction. She wouldn’t say this person meant her no harm. She was, after all, in a strange cave with no substantial memories. The only explanation that made sense was someone had her under a spell. But why?
Bracing her weight against the platform, she slowly maneuvered toward the adjacent table. The critters couldn’t get through the barrier, either, she acknowledged, as she watched a beetle attempting to cross to her side.
She shuddered, and silently thanked whoever set the enchantment. It would have been all kinds of disgusting to wake up soaked, filthy and covered in bugs. Who knew what kind of damage those pests could have caused her body while she was unawa
re.
She had to maneuver around stalagmites growing from the floor, although there were fewer growing inside her bubble compared to the perimeter of the cave. No doubt the shield had prohibited growth, but how long had she been there?
It should’ve been impossible for her to survive long enough for the development of stalagmites. Water and nourishment were required for any living being to survive. She hadn’t eaten or drank anything, so surely she hadn’t been there long. Unfortunately, the evidence around her suggested otherwise.
Before releasing her grip on the bed, she grabbed a sheet off the platform and wrapped it around her shoulders. The short-sleeved dress didn’t provide enough coverage, and the cold air was chilling.
Taking slow steps, it took a couple of minutes for her to cross the few feet to the table. When she got closer, she realized it was wood and not a natural part of the cave. Glancing back over her shoulder she examined the platform she’d been sleeping on, and noticed it wasn’t a natural part of the cavern, either. It was a dark wood platform with four sturdy legs the size of tree trunks.
Returning her gaze to the table, she noticed various object scattered across its top. A couple of the bowls held liquid in them, which seemed odd under the circumstance. Leaning over, she sniffed and recoiled at the bitter smell. Even though she was parched, she wasn’t about to drink whatever was inside the bowl.
Shoving aside a stack of papers in foreign writing, she gasped when she uncovered a small glowing disc. Runes were engraved on the round metal. She picked it up and held it to the light, squinting. The amulet said something about sleep and protection if she deciphered it correctly. Again, she questioned the reason for her vague knowledge.
A nearby object caught her attention. It was a seashell, and she was immediately drawn to it. As she reached over, her hand hovered above the shell as faint tendrils of magic buffered against her palm.
Suddenly, her skin prickled when she felt a cold blast of air. Wrapping the sheet closer, she rushed back to the bed as fast as her weak legs would allow, and crouched behind the stone platform.
Bright light filled the cavern and she shut her eyes, averting her head from the glare. Footsteps stomped into the room. Her pounding heart echoed in her eardrums, and sweat beaded her cold skin. Squeezing the sheet tighter, she curled into a ball, trying to disappear but cracked an eye for a small peek.
Moments later, large muscular thighs encased in navy-blue pants entered the room. Her eyes trailed up and over a wide chest covered in soft tan fabric and stopped when she met intense black eyes. At least they weren’t the frightening green eyes from her memory.
When she scrambled away from the male, her dress snagged on the bed. Panicked, she tugged at the fabric. It ripped and tore, but she didn’t care. She quickly scurried to the opposite side of the platform.
“Keira,” the voice intoned, and the male extended a large hand.
Blinking, she looked at him. “Is that my name? Keira?” she whispered when he made no move toward her. The name resonated when she said it aloud.
He cocked his head, and his long blond hair fell across his face. “You don’t remember?”
“No, I remember very little,” she admitted. She hated revealing any vulnerability, but she had no choice. She was flying blind, and would take any information he offered. “And, who are you?”
“Shit, an unfortunate side effect,” he murmured more to himself than to her. “My name is Cyril, and I mean you no harm. The enemy is Angus, the monster that put you here,” he spat.
The tone with which he said Angus had her protectively wrapping arms around her middle, but a soft smile played at her lips from hearing the name.
“So, you know how I got here? Tell me, please,” she begged, hoping details would jar her memory.
“It’s no longer safe here. If I sensed the spell breaking, Angus will, too. Come with me, and I will tell you everything,” he promised.
Keira’s gut was in knots, and she had no way to judge this male’s character. He could be dangerous, and leaving with him could end in a worse fate than staying in the cave. Her other option was to take a chance with this Angus, if he was coming for her. His name may have made her smile, but that didn’t mean he was the lesser evil.
From the frying pan into the fire, she thought, concluding her best option was with the male standing before her. When she placed her small palm in his outstretched hand, a shiver ran down her spine. Had she just made a huge mistake?
Chapter One
“How the hell is that scrote evading us? Are you sure these amulets are working?” Lorne asked belligerently. Angus looked across the pub table at his Máahes and chuckled.
The male had a scowl on his face as he shook the small gris gris bag the Rowan triplets gave them to cloak their auras. It hid their dragons’ presence so Cyril wouldn’t be able to sense them coming. They were forced to carry the charms because the Unseelie King had the ability to teleport, and could grab Keira and disappear at a moment’s notice. The charms should’ve given them a leg up, but they were no closer to finding Keira than they had been months ago.
Angus thought back to a year ago when Kyran’s mate, Mack, broke the spell which reopened the portal to his home realm of Khoth. He desperately needed to return to his homeland and resume position as king, but not before he found Keira.
The nefarious bastard, Cyril, had led them on a wild goose chase across the planet and managed to stay one step ahead. When he got his hands on the jackoff, he was going to rip his head from his shoulders. The only reason Angus was sitting in the Sottish pub instead of returning to his people was because the Rowan sisters confirmed Keira was alive and on earth. Angus didn’t need anything more than that information, but fuck, if the hunt wasn’t wearing on him.
“Och, of course they’re working. The Rowan triplets gave them to us,” Angus replied. He had seen firsthand the sisters’ power and trusted them whole-heartedly. “Besides, remember that sorcerer that denied us entrance into the realm club in New York? He thought we were humans, didn’t he? In fact, we argued with the idiot and Cyril got away again,” Angus added and felt his skin heat as the memory stirred his rage.
Lorne’s bright green eyes sparkled with mirth. “Yeah, until the tip of my claw met his jugular. That had the sorcerer pissing his pants,” Lorne snickered and allowed one hand to shift. Angus immediately moved his chair so his back was to the room when long talons extended from Lorne’s fingertips. The dragon knew he shouldn’t reveal aspects of their true nature, but continued to take unnecessary risks.
“Put your fucking claws away. Have you lost your mind? We’re surrounded by humans,” he barked as he glared daggers at Lorne.
Despite Lorne’s irresponsibility, Angus was grateful to have one of his fiercest Máahes by his side. Staring at the blond-headed male, he acknowledged he greatly missed his people. The male’s presence revitalized some of the strength his dragon had lost during his time away from his homeland.
Angus continued to train with the Dark Warriors and hone his fighting skills in both flesh and dragon form, but being near the magic of Khoth had an immediate impact. He swore his muscles were larger and his reaction time faster in the short time he’d spent with Lorne. It made him anxious to get back home and see if his renewed strength intensified more.
Admittedly, he’d been gone too long and yearned for a few of his land’s unique treasures. Angus yearned to see the purple moon and the oversized flowers of his home realm. Each morning, his servants would cut wildflowers and fill vases throughout the castle. Their fragrance was unique to Khoth, and the purple moon soothed his soul.
Most of all, he missed his hoard buried in the small cave on the rocky cliffs. He’d hidden it with cleverly placed dragon runes and was confident it was still there, undisturbed. His dragon, like most, loved to collect shiny objects. During his time at Zeum, he amassed many impressive items, but it didn’t compare to the family hoard passed to him by his father.
Lorne rolled his eyes,
and Angus leaned his large frame forward, demanding respect. Angus had no doubt his Máahes gave Legette problems in his absence. Legette was a capable leader, but it was very difficult controlling a bunch of dragon knights while ruling an entire realm.
“No one can see what I’m doing with you blocking me. Besides, that large pole is in the way,” the male said as his lethal talon retracted. “I don’t know how you managed to live and keep your beast hidden for so long, Sire.”
“It wasna easy in the beginning, and I hate to admit that I lost myself. I was a living nightmare, preying upon humans and accepting virgin sacrifices. I lost everything in one flap of my wings when hatred consumed me. It’s why Zander and the others mean so verra much to me. They took me in despite the wreck I had become, and gave me purpose. Withoot them, you would be facing a contemptible king,” Angus admitted.
“I haven’t experienced half of your trials, but the king I know wouldn’t have remained the awful creature you describe,” Lorne declared.
“I’m no longer the king you once knew,” Angus professed and took a deep swig of his ale.
“Maybe, but I like what I see before me. And, when you get back to Khoth, your people will welcome you with open arms. They need you, Sire. We all do.”
Angus’s gut twisted, and he grimaced. Guilt was a hard pill to swallow. His people were dwindling and on the brink of extinction. He hadn’t been around to hold the Civappu ceremony at the change of seasons. The last Tuya were mated centuries ago, and those couples carried the burden of bringing new life to the Cuelebre.