Enemy's Queen: The Aermian Feuds Book Three

by Frost Kay

  Zane stepped up to Jasmine, and a sound of protest escaped Sage’s lips. He glanced back at her with a raised brow. Some of her distress must have shown on her face, because he gave her a warm, reassuring smile which did nothing to reassure her. It rather did the opposite. He turned back to Jasmine and leaned down, tipping up her chin. Sage ran her eyes over her friend’s face. There weren’t any bruises or cuts, just what seemed to be evidence of lack of sleep.

  “Aermia has a way of creating enchanting creatures, despite their imperfections, don’t they, Phoenix?”

  The warrior nodded and watched Jasmine with a look that spoke a bit too much possessiveness. “Indeed. If nothing else, their spirits are to be admired.”

  “I agree,” Zane murmured, turning Jasmine’s face from one side to the other. “Her blue eyes are off-putting, but her facial structure and build are amenable. She’ll do nicely.”

  Nicely for what? Sage stifled her question for fear of his reaction while handling her friend.

  “Stand, woman,” the warlord commanded.

  Jas stood and kept her gaze pinned to the floor. He spun her around and led her by the hand until she stood an arm’s length away from Sage. Jas’ eyes met hers and tears dripped down her face.

  “I’ll give you a minute. Enjoy your gift, wild one.” The warlord let Jas go and moved to speak with the warrior.

  Jasmine rushed to her and wrapped her arms around her. “Oh, God. I never thought I’d see you again.”

  A sob escaped her. “You died,” she choked out. “I was told you died. I lost you, Jas. I’ve mourned you this whole time!”

  Jasmine pulled back and clasped Sage’s face. “But I’m fine. I’m here, you see? I’m here! Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “I saw you at the execution.”

  Sage’s stomach dropped. “You did?”

  “You look different.”

  A chill ran down Sage’s spine. “Is it bad?”

  The skin around Jasmine’s eyes tightened. “Not bad, but,” she hesitated, “you’re starting to seem… flawless.”

  The idea sickened her. “It wasn’t by choice,” she whispered.

  “I don’t doubt you. The power to choose is a rare commodity here.”

  Sage caught movement over Jasmine’s shoulder as the warlord made his way back toward them. Panic filled her. “I love you, sis.”

  “Love you, too, sis,” Jas croaked.

  The warlord closed a hand around Jasmine’s arm and pulled her from Sage. “That’s enough.” In a quick move, he drew a dagger from his side and placed it at her friend’s throat. His gaze captured Sage’s. “Do you love her?”

  “You know the answer.”

  “I fear you will be unruly without something to hold you in check.”

  Sage’s gaze wavered to Jas and back to the warlord. “Have I been unruly?”

  “No, but I can sense rebellion building within you. I’ve dealt with rebellion before, so I know what it looks like.” He frowned and blinked as if willing a memory away. “I need your compliance in all things.”

  “I promise,” she answered quickly.

  His smile became bitter. “I know you, and I’ve told you not to lie to me.” He slashed the skin of Jasmine’s shoulder, making her cry out and try to pull away from him.

  “No!” Sage jerked forward with a cry, only to have her chains pull her back. “Leave her alone! She’s done nothing wrong.”

  “You’re right, Sage, she hasn’t. But you have. Look at the price of your lies.” He pressed his finger into Jasmine’s wound and her friend’s face turned white. His face was a mask of anger when he returned his gaze to her face. “Look what you made me do, Sage! I hate this! Now, answer me.”

  “I didn’t lie!” she shouted, continuing to tug on her manacles.

  “More lies!” He moved the dagger back to Jasmine’s throat. “Swear to me you’ll be obedient, or I’ll slit her throat where she stands. Choose carefully. Her life is in your hands.”

  “I’ll obey. I’ll obey. Just let her go!”

  He observed her. “I believe you, this time. Phoenix! Grab your woman and send for a healer.”

  The warrior glided forward and took her pale friend from the warlord. Jasmine stared at her and didn’t even bother to struggle.

  “Don’t take her away! Please!”

  But the warrior paid her no mind and slipped out the door with Jasmine in tow. Sage tore her gaze from the door after it closed to glare at the warlord.

  “Damn it!” He wiped the blood off his hand, his agitation apparent as he jerked his fingers across the fabric. “I hate this.”

  She wanted to hit something. “Why?” she whispered, knowing he could hear her.

  Zane cocked his head. “I can see your anger, Sage, and that’s only natural. But, remember what you promised. How you act in the future will affect Jasmine. Your transgressions will result in punishments for her, and I’d hate for you to witness that.”

  “You’re sick.”

  He gave her a tender look. “You think that now, but I think, in time, you’ll understand.” He reached for the bread and held it out to her. “You need to eat.”

  She wanted to refuse, to spit at him and shout obscenities, but she didn’t. Like a good little captive, she bit into the bread and ate every bite.

  The warlord lifted a lock of her hair and rubbed it between his fingers. “Adjustment periods are always difficult, but don’t worry. It’ll get easier.” He pursed his lips and stared at her wrists. “You’re bleeding,” he said flatly.

  Sage blinked and looked up at her hands. Sure enough, blood was dripping down her arms. She hadn’t even noticed it.

  “You must not harm yourself, or I’ll have to take drastic measures. Do you remember your first cell?”

  Terror overwhelmed her. Darkness.

  He nodded. “I see that you do. I’ll be back later to clean your wounds, but I’d like you to think about what your actions have wrought today. I hope you choose to do better next time. I don’t want our lives to be like this. I desire peace. This fighting gets old.”

  Peace? What a joke. The promise of peace is what he’d lured her in with the first time. He might utter pretty words and make fine promises, but that was all they were. “I meant what I said,” she said softly. “Did you, Zane?” Something glinted in his eyes. Pleasure. She thought back to what she’d said. Zane. She’d used his name. Sage filed that away. That information could prove useful later.

  “I always mean what I say. Have I broken my word?”

  “No.”

  “Show a little faith, wild one.”

  “Do you think you deserve my faith and trust?”

  “Have I ever hurt you?” he countered.

  She glanced up to her bloody wrists and back to him, saying nothing.

  “You did that to yourself. Think about it, Sage. Have I ever really hurt you? Have I left scars on your body, or ever taken a hand to you?”

  “No,” she drew out. “But you’ve wounded me just the same.”

  He cocked his head as he regarded her. “You are the crown jewel of my accomplishments. I have a feeling we will change everything.”

  “Change everything how?” Unease rolled in her gut.

  “By ripping apart the world, piece by piece. Then, once we’re done, we’ll reshape it into something better.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Jasmine

  Her shoulder burned, and the men hovering around her weren’t helping the situation.

  “What did you do to anger the warlord?”

  “We told you to keep your mouth shut! Why can’t you do what you’re told?”

  “She’s reckless, Phoenix. She’ll get us all killed.”

  “Enough,” Phoenix growled, lifting her arm to clean the wound.

  Jasmine winced and stared past the men crowding her. The image of Sage chained to the wall in a translucent robe was frozen in her mind. What had the warlord done to her? She looked like herself…
but not. She winced when Phoenix probed her arm.

  “Careful,” she growled. “That hurts.”

  The gigantic warrior glanced at her and then back to his task. “It was necessary.”

  “What happened?” Mekhl demanded.

  “You know I can’t reveal that,” Phoenix rumbled as he began to bind her arm.

  “He used me,” she replied flatly.

  “For what?” Orion asked, crossing his arms.

  “To control—”

  “As a demonstration.” Phoenix cut her off with a glare, then turned it on the others. “Don’t risk all our lives and positions for something as petty as curiosity. Others have disappeared for less.” He pinned her with his cinnamon gaze. “And you should know better. It’s time to keep silent.”

  She bit her cheek and looked away. It rankled her that when he demanded her silence, she gave it. She had to admit, she felt guilty for it, she felt like a coward. But she knew she was also being smarter. She’d fought at the beginning. Oh, how she’d fought. But all it led to was punishment. The beginning was the worst. Nightmares still plagued her of the examination forced upon her, and the subsequent drugging that ensued afterward. She’d awoken here, with Phoenix, Mekhl, and Orion staring at her. A tug on her arm pulled her from the memories.

  “All done,” Phoenix murmured, and then began to clean up his healing supplies.

  “Thank you,” she said and stood with a stretch. “I think I’d like to go on a walk now.”

  “No.”

  She blinked at Phoenix’s hard tone. “No?”

  He stood to his full imposing height and stared down at her without any emotion. “You’ve been confined to our home.”

  “Confined?”

  “You’re too important to let wander.”

  His statement didn’t comfort her; it did just the opposite. Up until this point, she’d played her part, and in return, they’d allowed her a certain amount of freedom. For instance, she could go for walks, as long as she was escorted. It was the only time she was free of fear, guilt, and self-loathing.

  “This is because of our little trip today?”

  “Yes. Don’t think of sneaking out. The warlord stationed his personal guards outside our door.”

  Her stomach dropped.

  “Is he interested in her?” Orion asked, a hint of worry in his tone.

  “No, he’s busy with his Aermian consort.” Phoenix shook his head. “But Jasmine’s a means to an end.”

  Anxiety churned in her gut. What an apt phrasing: a means to an end. She was an exhibition, a slave and a broodmare already, but now she was to be a means by which a maniac would control Sage. She cast a glance to the men speaking quietly. She hated that they wouldn’t hurt her. At the beginning, she’d expected them to beat or torture her, but instead they’d included her in their lives: they spoke with her, took her for walks. But it wasn’t because they cared for her personally, not at all. Rather, she was their property, and, as their property, their responsibility; rather like a well-cared-for animal.

  She swallowed hard and stared blankly at the wall. The worst part was the night, not because of what she remembered, but because of what she couldn’t remember. Her breath came heavier as she thought about each night. Apart from the first night, every night since she’d been taken from Sage was a giant blank. No matter how hard she pushed, the veil of darkness wouldn’t lift. She could only guess what happened in those blank spots.

  The first night still plagued her during daylight hours. She’d been frightened and curled up in a corner. The two walls to her back had brought her a little comfort, while three huge warriors had stood and studied her like she was some sort of animal in a menagerie. They hadn’t moved forward to touch her, nor had they spoken. They’d just watched. She’d stared back, terrified to take her eyes off them for even a second, lest one of them attack her.

  It had shocked her when, after a few hours of their staring contest, her eyes began to droop. Sleep hadn’t come easy when she didn’t know what would come next, but her exhausted body won out and demanded sleep, if only for a second.

  Apparently, that second turned out to be the whole night, for when Jasmine had blinked her heavy eyelids open, she was no longer in her corner. She iced over when she realized she was in a bed, and not alone. She’d jerked to the side and tried to scramble away. A heavy hand had landed on her thigh, halting her escape. She’d stared at the hand and the warrior sprawled out next to her. He had regarded her in a quiet way and then, slowly, pulled his hand from her leg before wordlessly getting up. He then simply strode away.

  She had shivered and leapt from the bed, taking the sheet with her. Her body had not appreciated the maneuver. She hissed, the pain from her ribs robbing her of breath. How did she end up in that bed? She hadn’t been able to sleep a full night in days, for every little sound woke her, yet she’d slept through being moved?

  When she’d taken another step from the bed, she’d felt an ache in her lower body and the world came to a screeching halt. Her hands trembled, and her lip quivered. That could mean only one thing. Her innocence, had they stolen it? She’d pulled in a deep breath, and bravely pulled the sheet back to examine her body: her old clothing was gone, replaced with a simple nightgown that reached the knee. She had swallowed at the notion that someone had cleaned and changed her, and she never even felt it. What else had happened? Her hand had lifted the hem of her nightgown and paused.

  “You can do this, Jas. Don’t be a coward.”

  She’d sneaked a glance to make sure none of the warriors were watching her, and then yanked up her nightgown. Nothing. No blood, no bruising. She had then jerked the nightgown down, shivering, and moved back into the corner, the familiar comfort of the walls to her back. Nothing seemed amiss, yet her body told her something was different.

  Jasmine blinked at the hand on her arm and pulled herself back to the present. She looked up into Mekhl’s face with a raised brow.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Tired,” she replied automatically. It was like she couldn’t get enough sleep, but that was to be expected with all the healing her body had had to do the last couple months. Months. Her heart squeezed. She had been away from the twins for so long. How much had they changed? Did they still miss her? Were they being taken care of?

  Orion’s soft voice washed over her: “Where do you go when your gaze glazes over?”

  “Home,” she whispered without thinking.

  “This is your home,” Phoenix stated, taking a step closer.

  “No.” She shook her head with a sad smile. “This is my prison.”

  Phoenix scoffed. “Your prison? Do we have you chained to the wall like the warlord has his woman?”

  “She’s not his woman.”

  Orion slapped a hand over her mouth and stared at their door with hard eyes. “You cannot speak like that, Jas. You need to control your speech.”

  She pried his hand off her face, one finger at a time. “It’s never stopped me before.”

  “You’ve seen what it’s like in the obsidian pit,” Mekhl said. “If you cannot control yourself, we will be banished or executed.”

  Death didn’t scare her, but the obsidian pit did. She’d barely managed to catch a glimpse of it before the warriors had taken Sage and herself before the warlord. Curiosity had led her to take her walks there. It wasn’t as beautiful close up. Slaves lived in abominable conditions, starved, filthy, beaten and bloody. The depravity and sin in which the Scythians conducted themselves was sickening. Any woman was considered fair game there by the barbaric warriors. She’d had a few close calls herself. If it hadn’t been for one of the men, she’d have been raped, or worse. Regardless of how bad it was down there, she kept visiting. It was like she needed to see the terrible conditions to keep herself from doing something stupid—like attempting an escape. Plus, it was one of the few ways she could do something to help. Only Orion knew that she smuggled food down there to feed some of the people.

&nb
sp; She turned to Phoenix with her arms crossed and stood tall as he regarded her. “I would choose death before that.”

  “Brave, but you may not have a choice. You’re now part of the warlord’s circle. If he comes for you, there’s nothing we can do.”

  A chill skittered down her spine. The way the warlord had examined her with his cold, calculating eyes had pulled the warmth from her body. He was every bit the monster she’d imagined him. But it was when he spoke she saw that he was also insane. Her heart ached for her friend. Had Sage been with him the entire time? What had she experienced at the hands of such a man? Goosebumps broke out on her arms. Her friend looked so different. So foreign. She’d touched Sage’s face, needing assurance that her friend was still there. Sage’s beauty had become something almost unreal. She resembled the warlord in that way, and it frightened Jasmine.

  Rubbing a hand over her arm, she eyed the men, each observing her. It was times like these that she felt guilt. She could be suffering so much more, and yet she wasn’t. Even though she hated being a captive, she appreciated the men she’d been sold to. They could’ve been like that bastard Rhys who’d just enjoyed inflicting pain, but they tended her wounds, spoke to her, fed and clothed her. Really, they didn’t ask anything from her except obedience when in the public eye. Yes, it could be much worse.

  Times like those were the most trying. She hated acting the slave in front of other warriors, it was demeaning. But it was then she remembered the twins. This wasn’t about her anymore. They needed her, so it was her responsibility to do everything she could to survive and eventually get back to them.

  “You could always let me go.” At their silence, she tried another tactic. “Do any of you have children?”

  “No, but by the stars, we hope to in the near future,” Mekhl said, his voice holding reverence.

  “Before your people took me, I was a mother.”

  The three men stilled.

  “I have twins in Aermia, ones that I desperately miss and adore. I want to go home. They need me.”