Chains of Fate (The Fate Circle Saga Book 1)

by Alledria Hurt

  She looked at him with distracted eyes, then followed the direction of his pull, nearly tripping on the edge of her dress. Slippers slid on the tiles of the bathing room and Vad’Alvarn grabbed her up off the floor, swinging her up into his arms. The drying cloth discarded to the floor, he walked along, his bride held securely in his arms. Servants stared at the two of them. Yet he nuzzled her neck, kissing and nibbling at her skin while she gazed around with wild eyes.

  “Vadian.” She actually spoke his name after so long of being dumb to the world, overcome by the memories of one time wishing to eclipse the memories of another time. Childhood over childhood unable to coexist. A life full of toys beside a youth of swords, where the world cried out in blood and begged for death. There was no answer in her mind for how these two things were meant to go together, so she had curled in his arms and been silent. Now she spoke his name and asked a simple question. “What is my name?”

  The walls of the room formerly his bedroom seemed so terribly bare with his tapestries and the great swaths of fabric pulled down. So open, too open, and bright. She shielded his eyes, a strange gesture certainly, but he was carrying her so he certainly could not do it himself. His silence in the face of her question made her catch her lip in her teeth.

  “Vadian.” She called him again feeling as if perhaps he had forgotten she was expecting an answer from him.

  “Your name is Leviana.” The hesitation was noticed, but not commented on. Her name was one of the places where she was having trouble now. Who was she? Naked as he was, she kept finding reasons not to look at him once he put her down on her own two feet. Yet he did not seem the least bit bothered by her behavior, staying close, touching, kissing, nibbling at her flesh. It was when he moved to untie her dress, slipping it from her shoulders, she finally spoke up with a shivering voice.

  “No.” Hastily, Jalcina stepped away from his hands, grabbing the ties and looping them once more around her body.

  “You need to change.” Vad’Alvarn wanted to see her as she had been the night before, in little more than a linen shift hiding nothing from his gaze. The gentle motion of her breathing, the soft sheen of her skin as the light feel across it. “Besides…“ He stepped up close to her again, reaching out he slid the ties from her grip and began once again to loosen the dress. “You are wedded to me. This wedding in Arthum will only make formal what is already the truth.” Warm hands moved across clammy skin as he pulled the drying fabric away from her body. The flush to her face was hidden by quick hands, which he kissed the backs of. “Stop it.”

  “Stop what?” she asked.

  There was no way he was slowly undressing her. At least, he should not have been doing that, should he? They were not wedded yet kept coming back to her, driving away her ability to be comfortable with what was going on.

  “Stop trying to hide.” He pressed his face against the backs of her hands again, this time pushing them forward until they made contact with her nose and she had to move them to keep from having her face squished. Then he was nose to nose with her, a grin on his face. “You have no reason to hide from me.”

  His breath smelled sweet reminding her she had wanted to kiss his mouth earlier. Unthinking, she pressed forward, moving her face just enough to press her lips against his, all the while a bright red flush ran from the bridge of her nose down her cheeks to her neck. When she attempted to pull away, he slipped his hand behind her head and held her mouth to his, tongue prodding just lightly in hopes of entrance. A thread of panic made her try all the harder to pull away, not understanding what he was doing even as her heart raced in her chest. Hands moved to his chest, pressing as she tried to pull away. Yet he refused to let her go. When he did release her mouth, he still kept his hand tangled in her hair, holding her close to him. Then he brought his other arm around her waist so her hips were against his.

  “You’re not dressed.” Her hands against his chest, she was trying to catch her breath even as she spoke those words of caution. “It’s not seemingly.”

  “In my own bed chamber, I may be as dressed or undressed as I like.”

  Why did it always seem as if he was mocking her when he spoke and smiled at the same time? When he simply spoke it was with authority, when his face brightened her heart went out to him. When he did both, it seemed as if he were simply making fun of her. There was a strong urge to slap the smug grin off his face, at least there was until she realized what was happening between them. Then the flushing and the stammering returned. Now she truly fought against his grip, aware of her own reaction and thinking this was wrong. He was not her husband, her mind kept screaming it, yet part of her, a loud enough part to confuse her was telling her something vastly different. It said he was her husband; this was not the first time they had slept together. There was nothing to it. He knew her body and could show her so much pleasure. The memory of his softly flicking his tongue along the back of her neck while his hands wandered down her stomach and lower, below her hips. The same place reacting to the warmth his body was giving off. Swallowing heavily, she fought to get away again, raising her voice in a scream quickly stifled by his mouth on hers. His kiss sealed her fate. Now it was her tongue pressed against his lips, only he did not deny her, allowing her tongue to enter and explore his mouth. Her behavior was a strange mixture of bold and timid. Wanting him more than anything, yet fearful to take what he offered her.

  She hid her face in his chest as someone cleared their throat nearby, absolutely certain she should not have been kissing him and there was some kind of admonishment coming, though from who was questionable.

  “Master.” Romkita had her eyes respectfully lowered for she knew for certain what was happening between those two. After all, she was not an innocent herself. “You said you wanted to know when the preparations for your private retinue to leave were completed.” She curtsied then, as if to add emphasis. “Those preparations are complete. We can leave before nightfall if you wish.”

  “As soon as I can dress,” he said without hesitation, petting Jalcina with one hand as if she were nothing more than some small animal to him. “And my bride can change. Then we will leave.”

  The feeling of fear Jalcina had felt when she was first told they would be leaving the mountains in which she was born was largely gone. Consumed by the feelings coming from the other woman’s memories in her head, so strange now as she tried to think her way through it. Did she truly wish to be so far from her Father who would be trying to recover her from this man, this monster, who had taken her away from her family and threatened every possible good thing she knew of? Yet she wanted him, it was a fever in her limbs, the need to have his fingers on her skin and the feeling of his lips and breathe in her space. There was nothing else quite like it anymore. A sweetness like candy seeming to invade not only her mouth, but her soul. How was this even possible she wondered, her head hidden against his chest to keep away from Rom’s inquiring gaze.

  “As you wish, Master,” their servant said with another small curtsy. “Shall I bring another dress for the princess?”

  “Yes, do, in a half hour or so.” She felt his lips in her hair and his arms shifted around her, drawing her closer until she could hardly breathe for fear of stealing the breath from his chest.

  “Of course, Master.” The sound of Romkita’s footsteps retreating was the most welcome sound Jalcina had heard all day. How much things had changed in so little time. Then he was drawing circles along her neck and shoulders with his fingertips, pulling her thoughts away from the changes in her life and back to the sensation of him so close, so warm, and so impatiently waiting.

  22

  The camp was quiet when Jalcina awoke, eyes flying suddenly wide. Sitting up in the bed, she brought her hands to her chest. Her head was ringing. The tent was empty. Cautious, she stared around for Vad’Alvarn to be certain he was indeed gone. He was nowhere within. For a moment, Jalcina sat in shock. She was alone. She rolled out of bed, snatching up a robe. There was no telling how long he
would be gone. Across the carpeted expanse of the tent floor, she scurried, then thrust her head out the tent flap. Her heart gave a little flip. There was no one standing outside the tent to keep her inside. Stepping out, she glanced around. People walked back and forth, busy about their own tasks.

  Gathering the edges of the robe in her hands, Jalcina hurried across the camp. Whenever others came close, she lowered her eyes and kept going.

  “Woman,” a man spoke to her. Jalcina tensed, keeping her eyes lowered. The chill of the air crept in through the robe as she waited. A soldier grabbed her by the arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Please, I have to hurry. The King left something with his horse and he wants it now. I have to get it and go back.” She pulled away, trying to continue toward the corral.

  “Must you hurry?” He leaned in to sniff the edges of her hair. “If I help you find his horse quickly, perhaps you will have time left for me.”

  “Let me go. I’ll be about his business and then, perhaps, I will have time for yours.” Even with her tone, she did not lift her chin. The grip on her arm released. Jalcina once more gathered the edges of her robe off the ground and hurried along, glad for the movement to chase away the chill.

  Within minutes she was across the camp at the edge of the horse corral. There she stood a moment, looking over the beautiful horses. So many. One, high at the shoulder and dark, came up to the fence, sticking its head toward her. Jalcina rubbed his nose.

  “Hello handsome. Can you jump this fence?” She slipped into the corral then used the fence to mount. The horse blinked at her with one large eye. “Please?”

  It trotted along the fence line before jumping into a gallop. Jalcina leaned outward, causing the horse to change direction. With easy motions, she coaxed it to charging at the fence. It jumped the top of the fence, kicking back as it went. The impact of the horse kicking the top of the corral loose threw Jalcina forward into its neck. There she clung as it kept running, her robe flapping around her legs.

  Other horses jumped the now lower fence, running off into the night behind Jalcina. Soldiers poured out of their tents, yelling and trying to bring the horses to the stop. The animals ran around the men, ignoring them. Jalcina grinned as she leaned across the neck of her horse, urging it forward faster.

  Vad’Alvarn glanced up from his contemplation, Navar and another general were conferring nearby and he had been listening to them as they spoke, and then the yelling started. Getting up, he stuck his head out of the command tent to see horses running through the camp. Soldiers ran in every direction, trying to capture the escaping horses.

  “Damn it.”

  23

  Dawn broke over the camp as men continued to corral the horses. Vad’Alvarn was exhausted. He did not allow his soldiers to do anything he would not do himself. Thus he spent the night helping to catch the horses.

  “Kahn is missing.”

  The fact amused him. His horse, Kahn, was fast, proud, strong, and the most likely to run off and come back on his own. With the situation nearly under control, Vad’Alvarn returned to his tent.

  His first thought was surprise. The tent was empty. The lantern swung back and forth on its chain. Leviana was gone. Their bed was undone. He’d left her asleep.

  “NAVAR!”

  His second practically appeared at his elbow, taking in the state of the tent with quick eyes.

  “Jalcina is gone.”

  “I see. I’ll gather men to search for her.”

  “Send two trackers with them and head toward Sartol. She will go home.”

  “The snows are sweeping down out of the mountains. It will kill her.”

  “Then we’d best find her quickly.” Stepping back outside, he scanned the horizon for the rolling clouds coming toward the camp. They were going to have a winter storm coming in soon. They needed to continue south, but they could not do so without finding Jalcina first. Vad’Alvarn would not leave her behind.

  Kahn kept running despite Jalcina being nearly asleep. She clung to the horse’s neck, glad he seemed to be content to keep running without much encouragement. The wind whipped past teasing Jalcina’s hair over the collar of her robe. Soon it was cutting through her robe, leaving behind a scrim of frost on her body. Snow appeared before and around Kahn as if by magic, yet Jalcina drove him forward. It made no difference if she would freeze to death. There was a chance she could go home. Home to Sartol, home to her family, home to Lecern, home away from that monster.

  “Keep going,” she urged. “Please just keep going.”

  Though the sun was out, it was still so cold. Had it been this cold when she traveled with Vad’Alvarn and his men? She could not remember. She remembered him in the pool, the kiss they shared, him not wanting to let her go. The memory brought a flush to her face. Kahn kept running, kicking up drifts of snow as he ran.

  The trackers rode at a walk, reading the signs left behind by the passage of the horses, each of them in control of a pair of wolf-like dogs. The dogs ran ahead, zig-zagging back and forth in the deepening snow.

  “Kahn continues this way, King.”

  Vad’Alvarn rode a few feet behind, on a borrowed horse, his long coat pulled tight around him. The wind carried away words as though it wished to hide the woman from them all.

  “We need to find her before this deepens much further. Hurry!” He waved them forward and the trackers whistled to their dogs. The dogs, in turn, took off running.

  “You realize she has quite a head start on us?” Navar hunkered down further in his coat, pulling the collar up against the wind.

  “And if I do not find her, I’m doomed to continue looking so I’m not going to stop until I know she’s dead.”

  One of the hounds howled. It had found her trail.

  The full blizzard settling in forced the search party to make camp in a ravine, hunkering down and huddling together against the wind.

  Vad’Alvarn was silent. If she was still riding, which he doubted with the way the wind cut through them, she would be even further ahead of them by the time they came after her again. Yet he was certain she was not dead. If she were dead, he would feel it in his bones, down to his soul. It would split him in two to feel her leave him again. He pulled his cloak closer around his body and tried to force himself to sleep. Being awake simply meant he would worry.

  Jalcina huddled as close to Kahn as she could, drawing what heat she could from the horse’s body. Around her, the snow piled and packed, creating a little shell of safety from the wind. At least it was no longer cutting through her clothing. It did nothing to stop the chill creeping into her bones or the despair eating away at her heart. Death seemed to hover close as she closed her eyes. Sleep beckoned and Jalcina gave in.

  Jalcina woke the next morning thankful for what warmth Kahn provided. In the night, the snow had piled around them both creating a white cave. The horse snorted and kicked his way to standing, bringing snow piling down on her.

  With a muttered curse, she dug her way out and wiped snow from her hair before wrapping her arms around herself again. She had run away from the camp with nothing more than the clothes on her back and a pair of pitiful slippers on her feet, so intent on getting away preparation had escaped her. Now she longed, from the pit of her stomach, for something to eat.

  Kahn pawed at the ground nearby, digging for what grass there was following a blizzard.

  “If the snow is already coming down into the plains, it’s too late to try and make it into the mountains.” Jalcina saw the high peaks on the horizon with longing. Home. All she wanted was to go home. Yet she couldn’t deny, inside, there was a tug drawing her in another direction. The feeling of wings flying her toward her destination much quicker than even a strong horse like Kahn could manage. Those wings would take her back to where she belonged, back to her love.

  She shook those thoughts away as they threatened to consume. Instead she remembered what was waiting for her in the mountains: her father, her family, Lecern.
All the things she knew so well and loved so much. They appeared with bold colors before her eyes. Though those thoughts could not warm her, she found strength in them, strength enough to mount up again and turn her horse north and east toward those far off peaks she loved so dearly.

  The steady sound of Kahn trotting nearly lulled her tired body back to sleep until a sudden cry brought her back to the world with a start. Kahn reared and ran without urging. Another horse appeared behind her, its rider pushing it hard to keep up with the Imperial stallion. It was joined almost instanteously by another, coming up from the other side. The pair pulled in close but kept their distance. Jalcina ducked her head down to the level of Kahn’s neck and held on as the horse ran.

  Up ahead a net sprung as if from the trees. Kahn barreled headlong into it. It tangled them both and held them fast as the two riders stopped nearby. Five other men appeared out of the trees.