I blinked.
The wailing baby forced my eyes open. Will sat at my side on the bed, cradling a bundle in his arms.
“Your mommy is waking up,” he soothed, and I reached for my stomach.
No pain.
“You are healed, my love,” he bent to kiss my lips, and then pressed his forehead against mine. “Ah, Eva, you make beautiful children.”
“Is it a girl?” I raised my eyebrows, watching as Will gently transferred the infant into my arms.
“A girl. My daughter.”
The baby turned and rooted for my chest; I lifted my eyes to Will, staring at my family in awe. “We have a daughter?”
“The princess is in need of a proper name,” he smoothed his hand over my curls, catching my lips in his. I smiled.
“Any name I want?”
“Anything,” he swore, and I grinned, outlining her tiny face with my fingertip. Already she had a hint of red curls, and though I couldn’t truly tell the color of her eyes, I had a feeling that they’d be very, very blue.
“I like Perry.”
Will smiled into my kiss, nodding. “Perry.” He agreed, sighing deeply. “An immortal child, with mortal parents. Not the fate I’d have wished to bestow on her.”
“She is immortal… but not here,” I gripped her tighter, closing my eyes and kissing her soft hair. I held Perry in my arms, searching Will’s eyes urgently. “I dreamed of Christopher. He is preparing for a war. He has powers, strong magic, enabling him to summon any weapon that he wants. My dad also has magic, and appeared to my brother somehow,” I whispered.
“The happy family.” Eric arrived in the doorway, and I held Perry tighter to my chest. “The infant will be cared for. Her mother has work to do.”
Wynn stepped forward, flanked by two guards. The stubborn resentment on her face reminded me of Logan. “They want me to take her, Eva, and I swear I’ll protect her,” she said fiercely.
“What? No!” I shook my head, and I could feel the pressure of tears building. “She’s hungry! I have to feed her-…,”
Eric sliced through my words. “I’ll see that she’s fed. Will, I encourage you to order your wife to cooperate.”
“Will!” I cried, and Wynn reached for me, squeezing my forearm.
“I’ll protect her, Eva, please, just do what they say. Meredith has Rose and she’ll hurt her if you don’t let me take your baby.” Wynn begged.
My temper flared. I shook with control as Will gave a low growl. “I shall take her. Eric,” he turned to the man, “I will see to my own child. Eva does not need me to be at her side. She will conjure the magic that you seek.”
He smiled, a crooked, lazy grin that chilled my blood. “She will need encouragement.”
Several guards rushed forward, restraining Will and locking him in chains. I let Wynn take Perry, bursting to my feet. The nightgown was thick and heavy, and I got tangled in the blankets as they pushed Will from the room.
“No! Bring him back or I won’t-…,”
Meredith took a step into the room, and icicles crawled over my arms and across my heart.
She stood, motionless, at the foot of my bed. I stared her down.
“I have waited for my vengeance long enough. You will bring my father here, this night, or everyone you love will join your sister in the glass grave.”
Wynn moaned, rocking the newborn in her arms. Eric ushered her out of the room, and I moved to my feet, thankful to feel fully restored and so very strong.
The feather’s magic.
“Let me change.” I hissed. Meredith nodded once, backing toward the door before leaving.
I ignored the gowns and dug through the drawers for my jeans and a black Ramones tee shirt, tying my hair into a messy bun. I knew I should have been a sweaty, bleeding mess after labor, but after a quick examination, I realized that I was washed and healed. My stomach had resumed its pre-pregnancy, flattened state, and the stud in my belly button reminded me of who I was.
Who I am.
I felt stronger than I had ever felt in my entire life.
Weapons. Christopher. My father. I needed to bring my dad back; I’d need him to help overthrow Eric and his magic, as well as Meredith and her army. I needed to protect my new daughter, and now Wynn and Rose…
And Will.
Your brother will reign.
Over and over the words of the Romani woman loomed, ominous. Why will Christopher reign? What will happen to Will?
I can’t think about that.
I would protect Will above all others. He was no longer immortal, and I couldn’t let him go.
I refused to let him die.
Taking a deep breath, I walked to the door.
Chapter Thirteen
Troy
With every passing moment, I restrained myself from going to her.
She is with child; the dungeons are cold and damp.
Anyone could harm her. She was unprotected in the gruesome labyrinth below the castle.
She gave herself to my brother.
The alcohol was doing little to lessen the effects of my aching heart. Again and again I saw the image of her naked body beneath the furs, curled against my own brother, their bodies damp with the sweat of their lovemaking.
She must die.
I fell to my knees, pain suffocating my heart. She cannot die. I have lost my closest friend, and now my queen? And my own brother?
Letting loose a furious growl, I pulled my arm across my desk, violently sending everything crashing to the stone floor. Balin was at my side in seconds, but I dismissed him with an icy glare.
“Your majesty,” he returned in moments, urgent, and I curled my fists. “A man has washed up on the shore. He has been brought to Asher. We believe him to be Sir West.”
His words left me momentarily stunned.
I was walking, and then running to the hall, barreling past servants as I made my way to Asher’s tower. When I thundered through the door, Asher fell to his knees, and I stared forward in awe.
“Your majesty,” West bowed, drawing the sword on his back. “Her sword.”
“Praise God, man,” I drew him against me, embracing, praying. “You are unharmed? Where have you been?”
“I was taken prisoner in a distant kingdom. I was released when I finally convinced them that you were my king. They have no quarrel with you.” He stood, his anxious eyes shifting between me and Asher. “Her majesty is well? My father will not tell me of her condition,” he fired before softening his expression.
“Your father is most respectful and discreet.” I looked him over. He was truly unharmed; he appeared as healthy as the day he’d left on the journey for the sword. The sword, the Kenauri-Rak, reflected the inscription that I had requested.
For my cunning wife.
“Well?” West demanded. I turned to him, warmed by his forward, familiar manner. He was truly my brother, unlike Leo, my own blood, my own betrayal.
“My wife and my brother were found in the hanging tower. She claims to have enchanted him with a spell, but they have yet to be tried.”
He stared at me blankly. “Found?”
“He has known her intimately. They were plotting… against me. He will be put to death. I… must put her… to death. Treason,” I knew the pain was raw on my face.
West snapped his face to Asher, and then back to me. “They were naked?”
“Yes.”
The tremors in the tower came from the floor, and I reached for a pillar to steady myself. Asher mumbled something, and I turned to my knight.
He was beyond enraged.
“I will see him. Now.” West started forward, and I clasped his forearm with my hand.
“She admitted her guilt, trying to convince me that she did not trust Leo and had placed him under a spell of lust. She claims witchcraft. In confidence, I cannot see her hanged, West, not in her state, not ever,” I confessed, my emotions raw as I doubled over.
“Her state?”
“She is with child.”
>
He was already ahead of me, and I had to run to keep up with his massive stride. “The dungeons?”
“Yes.”
“I advise you to arrange a private trial. Only your panel of closest advisors. I will see them both, separately.”
“West.”
He turned, and I walked to him. At the last moment, he knelt before me.
“Your majesty.”
“Thank you, my friend. For not only your return, but for your comfort. I love her… I love her infinitely, with my soul, and I cannot bear to be apart from her. Please help me find a resolution.”
He bowed again. “Gather your panel. You will have a quick, private trial. I will see them both first.”
Chapter Fourteen
West
The cell guard led me toward Logan.
I fought the urge to walk directly into his cell and break his neck.
There has to be an explanation. There has to be a reason they were both lying naked in each other’s arms.
I’ll fucking kill that kid.
According to Asher, almost six months had passed. My father had refused to speak about Roam, even after I demanded that he give me some kind of indication about her condition. When Troy had told me that she was pregnant, my innate surge of joy was quickly extinguished by the words that followed.
She slept with Logan. Of course, she’d been in Troy’s bed for months, but it was Rush- my fucking son-in-law, that I wanted to choke.
I expected to see Logan first, but as I rounded the corner, I found her on the thin cot before me.
Roam sat with her back against the wall, cradling her pregnant belly.
She lifted her eyes, and then covered her heart.
“Open the cell, and then leave us,” I ordered the guard. He nodded, sliding the key into the lock. I waited until he’d disappeared down the corridor before turning to my wife.
“West?” She climbed to her feet, unsteady, tears streaking her sun-kissed cheeks. I had her in my arms before she could draw a breath, and she sobbed, gripping my neck with all of her strength. “You’re real? You’re alive?”
“Are you hurt?” I demanded, my eyes wandering over her middle. She shook her head, backing away from me and covering her lips with her fingers.
The pain in her eyes told me everything that I needed to know.
“Is that my child?” I asked through clenched teeth. She nodded, fat teardrops darkening her lashes.
“Yes.”
“And Logan?”
She only stared at me, tears streaming down her cheeks.
I knew.
As much as I wanted to turn away from her and leave her crying in the middle of the cell, I couldn’t, not after all of this time, after all we’d been through.
I tried to compose my tone.
“How many times?”
“We thought you were gone,” she managed, wiping at her tears. “Your ship washed up in pieces… every one of the crew died… I…,”
“You what?”
I was being vindictive. I knew what happened, I’d known it from the moment I saw her face. I didn’t need to make her say it, but I wanted to hear the truth from her lips, from my own wife.
“I… didn’t plan… to…,” she groaned, burying her face in her hands.
“It wouldn’t have fucking mattered if we lived a thousand years, Roam! He’s always wanted you, and-”
“Don’t swear at me!”
“Where’d he fuck you? Everywhere?” I drove my words into her like nails.
“You were gone! After you swore to me you wouldn’t leave me, and then you were just dead! I… didn’t want to… damn it, West, I can’t even listen to myself. I can’t blame him. I slept with him because I didn’t care about anything anymore and… it was either take comfort in him… or hang myself. Which was what I’d gone to the tower to do in the first place.”
I rushed at her quickly, and she backed against the wall at my threatening stare. “Did you enjoy it?”
“Shut up!” She cried, her fists balled at her sides. “Yes! Yes, I did, every time, stop it!”
“With Troy too?”
She locked her lips together, reared back, and slapped me across the face.
I stood there, stunned. She’d never hit me, and when she went for my cheek again, my hand cuffed her wrist, catching it before she could strike. Those green eyes of hers flashed with anger and madness. I’d seen this look only a few times in our lives, and without her medication, she had the capability to go over the edge.
Quickly.
“Roam…,”
“How many men have used me? Have used this soul?” She ran her hands over her belly, and I looked down at her beautiful face. “It doesn’t matter what happens to my body. It doesn’t matter if I’m sixteen or thirty-six. This heart is yours, West. This soul is yours. Please forgive me, please, please…,”
I hauled her into my arms, hating that I had left her alone again; hating that Logan had taken from her what should have only been mine. She wasn’t blameless, but I couldn’t fault her, not as much as my raging temper tried to find every reason to hate her. Disgusted fury churned in my gut as I imagined both Logan and Troy fucking her, and the ground beneath us began to quake. My primal desire for her plagued my senses, overwhelming my ability to think logically.
It’s my child. My baby growing inside of her. My mouth claimed hers, powerful, kissing away her tears, ordering her to be mine again, only mine. She collapsed, and I swept her up, continuing to drown in her kiss. “I’m sorry I left.”
She held her hand over her stomach, lifting her eyes to mine. “Don’t let him kill me. Or Logan.”
I kept her in my arms, dropping soothing kisses over her forehead. “It’s happening. The prophecy. The past. You’ll go to trial, Troy will accuse you of witchcraft… and Logan will play along. He’ll pardon Logan, and order you to be whipped.”
“No…,” she clung to me, and I lowered her to her feet as a sound from down the corridor drew my attention.
“My father will help,” I promised, hushing her. “Someone is coming.”
“West, I think you have magic,” she began, and I covered her lips with mine again, gripping her to my chest.
“I know, baby. I do. I’m working on controlling it. I’m figuring it out.”
“What can you do?” She begged, and the sound from down the hall drew a sharp gasp from her again.
“I’m going to see Logan now. I-…,”
“West, don’t hurt him, please,” she begged, holding her stomach.
I covered her hand with mine, tasting the salty tears on her mouth. When I deepened the kiss, she made a tiny sound that charged my nerves with electricity.
And then I thought of his tongue in her mouth, and I backed away.
“I’ll try not to. Too much.”
Logan’s cell was down another long hall, and the moment he saw me, he took a stumbling step backward. “West? What the fuck?”
“Come here.”
The stone floor rumbled with tremors. He didn’t even fight me as I grabbed him by the throat, slamming him to the stone wall. “I-…,”
“You will never talk about it again. Do you understand me? It never happened. If you say one word to make me remember that it happened, I’ll fucking kill you, go home, and raise my granddaughters myself. Understand me?”
He nodded quickly, choking beneath my crushing grasp. When I let him go, he coughed, holding his throat. “Is she okay?”
“She’s mine to worry about from this point forward. You focus on your own family.”
“Where were you? Is Vi alive?” He climbed to his feet, panting, and I almost felt sorry for him.
“I was traveling. Through time. I don’t know how, but I think I can control it- a little. And no… Violet is still…,”
He lowered his eyes to the floor, still rubbing his throat. “If I knew you were still alive, I never would have-…,”
“Shut the fuck up. Do you understand me?”
“Yes,” he nodded, pressing his back against the wall and lifting his eyes to mine. Dark circles hollowed beneath his gaze. “Now what? He’s going to hang us both.”
“No.” I ran my hand through my hair, irritated at the length. I hadn’t let it grow past my neck since 1979. “Troy will have a private trial tonight. No matter what, you take his side. Accuse Roam of witchcraft. Blame her. Appeal to him-…,”
“I can’t do that to her!”
“Do it,” I ordered, moving toward the door. “This is exactly what happened before. In the beginning. Logan, I have the ability to get us out of here. I just have to control it, determine how to use it. I have magic.”
“I know. Roam figured it out after you went all West-Smash in the bedroom. Your eyes turned colors, like Eva’s do. She’s so fucking smart.”
I stared at him, not seeing the full grown man in front of me, but rather the kid I’d met in the high school all those years ago. He protected Roam when I couldn’t, again and again, and I owed him.
I needed to forgive him.
And then I pictured his fucking hands on her naked body, and the floor was shaking again.
Okay, in time. I’ll forgive him in time.
“Be ready tonight,” I growled, shoving out the door.
Chapter Fifteen
Roam
The dream. The nightmare.
I’d been here already, kneeling before Troy, my arms shackled behind my back in chains. Logan was next to me in the same position, and West stood behind Troy, cloaked in shadows. The throne room was strangely lit with the icicle chandeliers, and only a few guards occupied the space.
There was no jury, no court, and no one to defend me but West.
I couldn’t bring myself to look at my husband.
When I turned my eyes on Troy, I recognized the sword in his hands.
My sword- the Kenauri-Rak.
“Brother, I beg you,” Logan’s tense voice from beside me left me sick with anxiety. “I beg you. Forgive me. She is a… witch. She enchants.”
I turned to him, unable to hide my horrified glare. You coward! I wanted to scream, and then I inhaled sharply, finally turning to West.
He’d coached him.
I knew this story.
Reign (Roam Series, Book Six) Page 9