Outside, Rayna sniffed the air to ensure that none of her family or close friends were nearby before striding toward Rhael’s tent. A few Maenorens and Fenearens looked up as she passed, but no one reacted to her presence. The Overlord’s tent was five times the size of the others, a black and gold canvas fortress. Her mouth dry and her heart pounding, she reached the entrance.
“Lord Rhael?” She could already smell him and someone else within.
Shuffling noises sounded through the canvas before Rhael’s powerful voice cut through the tent. “Yes. But one moment please, Miss Myana.”
Rayna waited. A few heartbeats later, a woman appeared in the entrance—the attendant Rayna had noticed earlier, a young woman with round, doe-like eyes and dark hair to her waist. An odd current ran through Rayna as their gazes met, like what sometimes happened before a thunderstorm. The attendant curtsied stiffly before rounding the corner to another tent.
Rhael opened the black canvas flap. “Please, come in.”
Rayna avoided the Overlord’s intense black and gold gaze as she passed him. Oil lamps gave the tent's interior an unnatural yellow glow. Several trunks, a wide, cushioned pallet, and heaps of robes filled the space. He had more possessions in this temporary dwelling than she had collected in seventeen years.
“How can I help you, Miss Myana?” He crossed his arms, and she noticed the thickness of his muscles. He was not wearing his usual dark robes and cloak, but a pale gold shirt, partially unlaced.
The woman's presence and the state of his dress were not lost on Rayna. Such licentiousness was not appropriate, especially in a man trying to gain her affection. Anger heated her voice. “If I've interrupted your evening—”
He waved away her words. “Miss Helena is merely a servant. You will have plenty yourself if you choose to accompany me.”
She looked at the ground instead of voicing her disbelief. Woolen carpets covered the dirt and moss. She scuffed her boot against the fabrics. “I wanted to speak to you about your offer.”
He corrected her. “My proposal?”
“Yes.” With a deep breath, she forced herself to meet his gaze.
“Do you have an answer for me?”
“I think so.” Her heart beat so loudly, she feared Rhael’s weak human ears would hear it. “I want to protect Fenear. I agree that our people need an example.”
“So.” Rhael stepped into her space. His burning scent licked at her nostrils. “Is that a yes?”
Rayna thought of Channon, of Bayne, of Silver and Roxen, of the nation of Fenear. She thought of the young woman, the huge, limpid eyes that had surveyed her moments ago. Rayna's disgust for the Overlord deepened, but so did her resolve to protect her pack and home. Gathering all her courage, she forced the words from her mouth that would forever change her life. “Yes. I'll accompany you to Maenor, as your betrothed.”
Later that evening, Rhael watched his courtesan brush the dirt and—God help him—fur, from his velvet cloak. “That will do, Morna. It will only soil again the moment I walk outside.”
“As you wish, my lord.” Morna lifted the garment and carried it to him. He nodded, and the beautiful brunette slipped the cloak across his broad shoulders, her fingers trailing along his neck. She circled to his chest. Her head barely passed his ribcage as she fastened the gold viper pin beneath his collarbone. Her glistening brown eyes met his. She did not speak, but questions rested in her furrowed brow.
“Morna, jealousy does not become you.”
“My lord ... Rhael. Respectfully, I am not jealous. I am concerned.”
Rhael slid his gloved hand through her dark tresses. “She's the one. I am sure of it. You yourself cannot deny the effect she has on you. Seer blood calls to seer blood, after all.”
“She is like me. I do not deny that, my lord.” Morna bent to straighten his cloak's hem before straightening. “Is all this necessary? This treaty, pretending you could ever—”
Rhael brought a finger to her lips. “Hush, Morna. The Councilor was clear. He will only give us the materials we need for the Awakening and provide us with military aid if we acquire the Fenearen seer first.”
“But why? The girl is untrained, not to mention volatile like the rest of her kind. What use could the Councilor have for her?”
“He did not say, though I have my suspicions.”
Morna pressed on. “But you had to sign the treaty. You swore on your honor not to attack Fenear again unless the conditions of the agreement be broken. Our people know this. Forgive me, my lord, but they will not respect a man, even a Demetrian, who goes back on his word.”
Rhael chuckled. “Your concern is touching, if misguided. Once the Councilor’s emissaries have confirmed that we have found the right girl, as I'm certain we have, she will break the treaty and force us into war. At least, that is what our people will believe. Trust me, Morna, as I have trusted you.”
She hesitated, but his flattery worked. “Yes, Rhael.” She fastened his greaves before returning her wide-eyed gaze to his. “Will she come willingly?”
“It appears so, though her compliance can be forced if necessary. For simplicity's sake, let us hope it does not come to that. Though I admit, I grow weary of feigning interest already. I'd almost prefer using force.”
Morna grinned. “That would be more amusing.”
“Alas, we must continue to pretend. She and I have an announcement to make.”
Rhael strode from his tent, Morna trailing behind him. The Fenearens and Maenorens had already gathered around the fire pit awaiting the news regarding the treaty. Surveying the scene, Rhael joined the Alphen and Beta on a crude raised rock that served as stage. Rayna was nowhere in sight, and the blond boy who always accompanied her searched the crowd. He took note of that fact, in case it would be useful later.
Rhael caught Bayne's nod. He returned the gesture before stepping forward and clearing his throat, even though all attention was already on him.
“My people and friends, I have spent two full days here at the Southern Densite, enjoying your Fenearen hospitality. My thanks to each of you for your generosity in welcoming me as your guest. Now, alongside Alpha Bayne, I am proud to announce a peace agreement between our nations.” Scattered applause, mostly from his own people, came from the crowd. Many Fenearens did not seem the least bit pleased.
A figure clad in Demetrian black and gold appeared at the back of the assembly. Her bright red hair clashed with the cloth-of-gold woven among the black silk. The plunging neckline and side cutouts would have been attractive on a more feminine, less muscular figure. Bayne's sharp intake of breath informed Rhael that he had spotted her as well.
“I am so pleased to make a second announcement,” Rhael continued. “To celebrate this union of nations, we may have a union of a different kind. May I present to you, the woman I hope will be the future queen of Maenor.” He gestured to Rayna, and all eyes turned to her.
Rayna blinked. She had never felt more exposed. It was not only the dress, though she had never worn anything so revealing and constricting in her life. Everyone she knew, and dozens of people she did not, stared at her. During their discussion, Rhael had suggested they make the announcement without informing her family first. That way they could not try and control her. She had agreed, not because she thought they would control her, but because she had been afraid she would lose her nerve if she waited too long. Standing there in a gown for everyone to see, she wondered if that had been a mistake.
With a steadying breath, she walked forward. The crowd parted as though she were a blade slicing leather. Nearby, Thera clapped her hand over her mouth. Rayna continued past her, though she could not keep from trembling.
Several irritated grumbles pulled her attention the other way. Channon pushed through the crowd. He halted as she met his stare. She could smell the salt of tears in his eyes.
“What is this? What's going on?” He broke from the crowd and grabbed her shaking hands. “Ray. Why are you wearing that? He's lying. You aren
't going to be his queen?”
She opened her mouth, but before any words escaped, a deep, guttural growl issued from Channon's throat as he turned toward the raised rock.
“Alpha, Alphena!” Channon called. “You're allowing this? You're allowing him to take Rayna?”
Bayne shook his head, pity girding his voice. “Channon, now is not the time. I feel much the same as you, but perhaps we ought to convene another meeting.” He turned to Rhael. “In private?”
“Your niece accepted the offer as previously discussed. I see no need for further discourse,” Rhael said.
“What does he mean, as previously discussed? You knew about this?” Channon's gaze swept over Bayne, Silver, and Roxen. “You all knew?”
“Channon,” Roxen said, his voice taut. “The Alpha said this was not the time. Control yourself or—”
“Or what, Rox? You'll force me to marry a shadow-stalker, too?” Surprised murmurs spread through the crowd following Channon's use of the derogatory term for Maenorens.
“No one is forcing me!” Rayna tore out of Channon's hold. “This is my choice.”
“Yes,” said Bayne. “You have made that perfectly clear, Rayna. I say again, this is not the forum for such a conversation. We still have much to discuss: the time-frame for Rayna's visit, her retinue of warriors—”
“Why on Osterna would she need such a retinue, Alpha Bayne?” Rhael's voice had an edge Rayna hadn't before heard. “Do you trust me so little? If this is an example of Fenearen diplomacy, I fear this alliance may have been premature.”
“Is this how our country's run?” Nero’s voice rang out as he crossed in front of the rock. “For all Bayne's talk of peace and unity with the Maenorens, all it takes is one wishing to bed his precious niece, and he threatens to plunge us back into war.” He looked up at Bayne. “How many of our pack would you see dead before you'd be willing to part with her?”
Bayne snarled and leaped down to face him, maintaining his two-legged form. Rayna shivered as Channon pulled her back into his arms. Battles for dominance were violent ordeals. If Nero fought Bayne, there would be bloodshed, even death. Bayne would never forgive himself if he killed someone over a dominance skirmish.
Bayne and Nero transformed into their feral black shapes. Bayne bristled, his dark eyes staring into Nero’s blazing amber gaze. An attack on Bayne’s authority would weaken Fenear in Rhael's eyes. Rayna met the Overlord's gaze, and he raised a brow, as if asking her to interfere.
Silver and Roxen exchanged panicked glances. Rayna's eyes prickled. If the treaty fell apart, the war would continue. Thousands would lose their lives to senseless conflict. For what? Because she was afraid to assert herself? Because, unlike her mother and father before her, she could not sacrifice herself for those she loved?
Rayna refused to be so weak, so selfish.
“Bayne!” She screamed his name until her uncle and Nero broke off their snarling and turned to her. She squeezed Channon's hand before cupping his cheek. “I'm sorry,” she whispered.
“Ray, why? There has to be another way.”
Channon tried to pull her into him, his cornflower blue eyes stormy with angry tears, but she turned her attention to Bayne. “I’ve made my decision. You and Silver united Fenear with Maenor.” She strode toward the rock, past Bayne, past Silver and Roxen, until she stood beside Rhael. “Now, I unite myself with Lord Rhael.”
Rayna glanced at her packmates and the Maenorens who surrounded her. No one said a word. She steadied her voice as she turned to Rhael. “I accept your offer to return to Maenor with you to prepare for our marriage, provided you recognize my right to change my mind at any point, as we agreed.”
Rhael took her hand and kissed it. “I accept your condition. It will take several weeks to plan the ceremony, so you shall have ample time to change your mind. Though, once we are better acquainted, I am confident you will not.” As Rayna felt his breath on her skin, she wanted to shift and take off into the woods, but she held her feet in place.
“Lord Rhael.” Silver stepped to Rayna's side and grasped her arm. “While your proposal is an honor, to be sure, you can understand our concerns over its suddenness. Rayna has never left Fenear. She has known only hatred of Maenorens. Would you not agree that she needs more time before becoming queen of a foreign nation? How can she rule without knowledge and understanding of her subjects?”
“Yes,” said Bayne, “I cannot allow anyone, including my niece, to bear so much with so little preparation.”
Rhael didn't look away from Rayna as he responded. “I understand your concern, but I shall personally ensure that Rayna learns all there is to know about Maenoren culture. And, to address your concern for her safety, Alpha Bayne, might I make a suggestion?” He turned toward Bayne. “I invite you to name an escort for Rayna. Someone to accompany her and help ease her transition to her new home.”
Rayna balled her hands into fists. She did not appreciate them speaking about her as if she were not there.
“Very well, I will escort her,” said Bayne.
“Bayne, no.” Rayna wanted nothing more than to have her uncle with her, but Fenear needed him. “Your place is here, yours, too, Silver.”
Before either of them could protest, another voice came from the crowd. “I'll go with her.”
Rayna's heart rebounded against her ribcage as Channon approached the leaders.
He inclined his head to the Overlord and turned to Bayne and Silver. “I apologize for my earlier outburst, Alpha, Alphena. With your permission, I will accompany Rayna.”
“Thank you Channon,” Bayne said, lines deepening around his mouth and eyes. “Overlord, be so kind as to give us some privacy.”
Rhael grasped Rayna's hand with astonishing force. “Of course. If possible, I would like to leave at sunrise for Anhorde. There's no time to waste, as we've a wedding to plan.” He pulled her close so that even her four tail-length tall form seemed slight in his mass. “Until then, my dear.” He pushed a strand of hair out of her face, letting his fingertips linger over her jawline. He nodded to Bayne, Channon, and Roxen. Pure rage masked their faces. After a moment, he left, disappearing into his tent. The rest of the Maenorens followed suit, leaving the Fenearens around the fire pit.
“Let me be the first to congratulate you, Rayna.” Nero shoved by Bayne as he moved toward his den. The other Fenearens left, too, awkwardly offering their good wishes. Soon Bayne, Rayna, Silver, Roxen, Thera, and Channon were all who remained.
“This cannot be what you want,” Roxen said as he hugged her. “You are a sister to me. How can I stand by and let you do this?”
Rayna hugged him back, keeping him from seeing her tears. “I know it's hard to understand, but I'm doing this for Fenear. I’ll miss you, Roxen.” He let her go and left, looking back with lost eyes.
“You're really doing this.” Bayne stepped closer to her.
She grasped his hands. “I'm doing this. For Fenear,” she whispered, daring to gaze into his eyes.
“Rayna.” Silver spoke from beside her. “I beg you to reconsider. The alliance is important, but your happiness is as well.”
“I know, but I want to do this,” she lied. She was good at it, though. Bayne always said her father had been, too.
Silver kissed her on each cheek. “Remember, you can change your mind any time before the wedding. I hope you do. I—I need to clear my head,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes. She left, and Rayna turned to Bayne.
“Uncle?”
“Don’t call me that, makes me sound old,” Bayne said, as he had many times before. “Rayna, I promised Aquillo long ago I would love you as my own daughter. I cannot stop you from this–”
“You can't,” Rayna interrupted, trying to sound convincing.
“But Silver's right, nothing is worth your happiness. Not even this alliance.”
“Bayne, in doing this, the alliance is solidified. You and Silver will have done what no Alpha pair could do for six hundred years. The war will be over
. No more tragedy, no more pointless loss. You’ve done your part. You have to let me do mine.”
“I fear I'd go to war a thousand times to keep you by my side. Rayna, there will always be a place for you here. Always.” Bayne hugged her for a long time, like he would never let go. Nor did she want him to. He felt just as strong against her as he had when she was a child.
“I love you, too, Bayne.”
They slowly pulled apart. “I should go find Silver.” He kissed her on the forehead and turned to Channon. “At least you won't be alone, Rayna.” He leaned forward and whispered something in Channon's ear.
“I understand, Alpha.”
He clasped Channon's shoulder and left in the direction his mate had gone. Thera waited nearby. Rayna guessed she wanted to speak privately, but Channon didn't leave. He stared at the ground, his eyes shadowed by his mane of golden hair.
Thera sighed. “When you are done, my keiri, come see me.” She walked toward her den, leaving Rayna and Channon alone.
“Thank you for coming with me.” Rayna waited for him to respond, but he said nothing. “Channon?”
He turned to her, tears in his stormy blue eyes. “You don’t want to, Ray. I know you don't. You just did this to protect Bayne and Silver and this accursed alliance.” Rayna did not argue; he was right. “You love Fenear, you love the Trues, and you love…the pack.” He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “Wolnor knows you love everything about this place. Now you’re just going to leave?” He slammed his fist against the central rock. “Rayna, you will ruin your life.”
“Channon.” Rayna tried to take his hand, but he pulled away. That single action hurt more than she could stand. The tears she'd fought broke through her lashes. “It’s not only about my life, or about yours, either, Channon.”
Hex Breaker (The Fenearen Chronicles Book 1) Page 7