Reign (Roam Series, Book Six)

by Stedronsky, Kimberly

  Stop. I cringed, trying to focus on the words of the psychiatrist. Sexual assault comes with a myriad of effects. Depression. Flashbacks. Stockholm Syndrome. Multiple personalities. Focus. Separate myself from what is happening.

  West is coming.

  I shook my head, reaching for the glass of water. This is my body now. If we make it out of here alive, I must reconcile with what I’ve done. I am not seventeen, I am thirty-six. Focus.

  Focus.

  Before, when I was his prisoner, I’d lay silently in the bed until he finally fell asleep or moved to his own chamber. This time, I was restless, needing to know more about this man who was about to die.

  The man I was going to kill.

  “Do you remember your parents?” I asked, three nights ago after he’d tied me to the bed and punished me for speaking to a soldier without his permission.

  He got out of the bed, fully naked, crossing the room to the elaborate bath. “Come. I’ll draw a bath, and we’ll talk. Talking seems to be your favorite pastime anymore.”

  I’d never seen him do anything as domestic as turn on the bathtub, and I cringed at the soreness in my wrist. “I’m still tied to the bed, Troy.”

  He chuckled but didn’t look back at me. “Have you learned your lesson?”

  “Untie me, you fucking lunatic.”

  He laughed again, moving to the silken tethers that bound my hands. His fingers could barely maneuver the knots between long, hungry glances at my naked body. When my hands were free, I lowered them to cover my chest, rubbing at the bruises.

  “That word, in your mouth…,” he groaned, hot lust thick in his voice. “Come on now, Roam, I was gentle. You liked everything that I did to you.”

  Flinching, I tried to ignore his taunts. “What was your father like?” I asked sitting up. He stared down at me for a long time before scooping me into his arms. I let him carry me to the giant whirlpool and lower me in, every bone in my body relaxing at the soothing heat.

  “I was twelve when he was killed in battle. I don’t remember. I suppose he was stern,” he corrected. “I do recall that he was… uncompromising.”

  “And your mother?”

  “She died giving birth to me.”

  Stiffening, I nodded as he held up the bottle of rose-scented bath oil.

  “My father found comfort in a young maid. When she became pregnant, he cast her away. Leo came to me only a few months before I met you. You always smelled like roses.” He tipped the bottle into the steaming water, sitting on the edge of the tub and swirling the scented oil with his hand. “I remember that more than I remember my parents.”

  He was quiet; reminiscent. I listened to him intently. “Mina? Smelled like roses?”

  He turned to me, a far-away look in his eyes. “You are her, Roam. After all of these months, you still don’t truly believe that it is your soul that is born again and again.”

  “Of course I believe. You’ve killed me eight times, and I’ve had nightmares about it for years.”

  “Years?” He turned to me quickly, and my heart hammered in my chest.

  “Months,” I corrected. “These months have felt like years.”

  “I’ve killed you twice.”

  My eyes snapped to his. “That’s a lie.”

  “Once, when you were called Amina. And once, Lysbette. My brother… did the rest.” He continued to swirl the water with his fingertips, and goose bumps crawled over my arms. “I meant only to threaten Amina, until Samuel… Logan… returned from handling West. But he never returned. I strangled you.” He stood, towering over me. “And, in France…,” he blinked, turning to the window. “I have paid for that time. Have you dreamt of that time in the woods, Roam?”

  “It was my first nightmare.” I kept my voice even, my body immobile.

  “I knew you did. You talked about it, when I was locked in that basement.” He sighed. “You talked about how dull the knife was that I cut you with.”

  “And my child? I was full term,” I whispered, nausea and nerves getting the best of me as I lowered my face.

  His eyes darkened. “Logan’s work.”

  “You killed me three times,” I managed, my chest aching with his admission. “You killed me…you held me under the water in that pool and drowned me.”

  “In the pool, you looked so much like my Mina. All of the rage of hundreds of years of searching for you… I wanted to hold you, I wanted to kill you for deceiving me… and when the coordinates never went away, I knew that West had saved you.”

  “You are a murderer.”

  “And your greatest fear is forgiveness, Roam,” he answered, sliding into the water across from me. “Yet, you have forgiven West for your murder, haven’t you? For what he did to Julie? Don’t look away from me,” he ordered, and I knew better than to disobey. I turned my eyes back to his. “How long did it take you to forgive him? A day? Less than a day? Love, true love, will make you forgive. You’ll have no choice. Your mind may resist, but your heart will give in. Eventually.”

  “Then you never truly loved Mina. You never forgave her. You hunted her… me… life after life.”

  He swam forward in an angry wave, and I backed against the cold wall of the tub, frantic. “You forget that I have a world to save. Because of my decision to put you to death for treason- which I should mention, my little history aficionado, was a sentence that was historically popular in your world for centuries- my world was condemned by that fucking old magician and his incompetent magic.”

  “Please, please calm down,” I begged, my voice trembling as I turned away.

  “My penance was to live a life of immortality in a foreign world, all while my world depended on me finding and killing you for centuries! Haven’t I paid enough?”

  I blinked at the frightened tears in my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I managed weakly.

  He shook his head, and I jumped as his hand touched the side of my face. “Don’t be sorry, Roam,” he dropped a feathery kiss to my lips, brushing away my tears with his thumbs. “Don’t be sorry. You’re a pawn. A small pawn in a war between worlds. A beautiful pawn,” he added. “You are kind. When you brought me water… in that horrible shack,” he kissed me again, and I exhaled shakily as his other hand moved up my leg, beneath the water. “I heard you arguing with West. You defended my rights, as your prisoner. That was admirable, Roam. Honorable. I knew that if I lived, I’d make you mine again.”

  “Your majesty,” the maid who entered the room curtsied. She moved to the armoire, retrieving the costume’s gown coat from the garment bag. “You are ready?”

  I was startled from my memories. Troy followed in behind her, and I recognized the costume that matched mine. He carried his mask in his hand, dropping it to the table. “Leave us,” he ordered the maid.

  She curtsied again and returned the gown coat to the hanger.

  His blue eyes, so intense, penetrated my gaze, and I fought the instant reaction burning in my thighs. “What is it?” I asked softly, cursing my breaking voice.

  He smirked. “I have a gift for you.”

  Straightening, I lifted my chin proudly. He’d already given me more jewels and gowns than I could ever wear in a lifetime, and I wondered what he had in mind now. “You do?”

  He took a step forward, and I broke into a nervous sweat. Clasping my hands together and wringing them at my waist, I cleared my throat, and he caught my fingers, chuckling. “You know, you do that with your hands when I make you nervous. Or when you want me to fuck you.”

  “I never want that,” I tried, horrified at the possibility of him being right.

  “Well, then, when you want me to tie you up and-…,”

  “Stop,” I begged, and he laughed again.

  “I have made a decision.” He reached for the flower clip, touching it once before drawing his fingers down a long strand of my hair. “I have discovered a way to save this world… without killing your daughter.”

  Of all of the things he could have said to me at that mom
ent, those words nearly brought me to my knees. He found out that Eva could live, in Icepond, and stop the sun. Which meant he’d been searching for another answer?

  For me.

  “What did you say?”

  “Eva can live here, Roam. And the sun will stop burning. It will remain where it is, permanently, until her natural death.”

  “And you want to bring her here?” I remembered his disgusting words on the Titanic. If I can’t have you every night, then I’ll have your daughter. “To hurt her?”

  “Roam.” He cringed, pulling me into his arms. “No, not to hurt her. To allow her to live. For you. For us,” he corrected, his hand moving over my stomach. “Our children. Mina… Roam,” he corrected softly. “Stop telling me that you hate me every time I please you. Let me give you everything that you could ever want.”

  I felt West’s child for the first time at that moment. The baby stirred from deep within, but I knew the pulling, fluttering sensation was there. Troy couldn’t feel it, but I could, and I smiled to myself, closing my eyes.

  “If there is… another way,” I began, carefully, covering my abdomen with my hand, “then couldn’t you just let me bring her here… with West? Let us all be together?”

  A flicker of hurt passed over his eyes before the contempt, and then the anger that I hated most took over. I flinched, closing my eyes, ready for his fist.

  Instead, his words crept through my body and settled into queasiness. “You know he’s fucking your sister, right?”

  My eyes snapped open, and I glared at him. “West never touched Morgan.”

  “And Laurel. Both. Years have passed there. He’s moved on. Eva calls Laurel mommy, did you know that?” He reached for me, delicately tracing my arm with his fingertip, and I wrenched away, furious. “Laurel cares for her while West is teaching. I’ve been there, Roam, I’ve seen it. I didn’t want to tell you. I knew that this would hurt most of all. But it’s time you hear the truth.”

  I knew he was lying. Morgan had told me she’d tried to kiss West, and he pushed her away. And West wanted nothing from Laurel.

  I knew.

  The horrible, miniscule speck of doubt corroded my thoughts. Stop. Stop! Why should I care about all those years ago? Whether he lied or not, he’s my husband now, it’s in the past!

  I’m… in the past.

  “Roam? Are you hearing me?” His voice cut through my daze, and I took a deep breath, clearing my mind.

  “Well, yes, then, please bring Eva here. One big, happy family,” I covered my stomach, and as if on cue, the baby tugged from deep inside.

  He grinned, dropping a kiss to my forehead. “I will treat her as my own, I swear to you. She’ll be a princess here, and I’ll see that she is placed in succession to my throne… after our child,” he added, moving his mouth over mine. “Like you, she will not age in Icepond… in this world.”

  “We should go now,” I managed, letting him kiss me as deeply as he wished. I even lifted my hands and slid them up his neck, through the back of his hair, pulling him closer. He groaned, backing away.

  “I’ll smear your makeup, little fairy,” he teased, stealing one more kiss before taking my hand. I followed him to the door, stopping first for my gown coat. As I entered the hall, he smiled down at me, stopping in the corridor.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  He was silent for a long moment, and then finally lowered his voice so that only I could hear him.

  “I love you, Roam.”

  Of all of the memories that could have gone through my mind at that moment, I chose to remember him lifting me by my hair, even as his sword skewered me to the floor, before slamming my skull to the wood.

  My mouth moved without my mind filtering my words. “If you really loved me, Troy, then you’d let me go.”

  He dropped his arms and went cold, sliding his mask into place. “Come on,” he growled, leading me toward the stairwell.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Eva

  Perry sighed in her sleep, and Will’s arms surrounded me from behind. I couldn’t pull myself away from her side, constantly checking her breathing, her blanket, and her tiny fingers. “Do you think she’s warm enough?”

  “She is quite comfortable.” He promised, brushing my hair to the side to move his mouth over my neck. I reached for him, turning in his arms to stand on my tip-toes.

  “I can’t reach you,” I complained, and he grinned, his hands sliding under my ass to lift me up and against him.

  “Please promise me that you won’t take chances tonight, love,” he begged, carrying me toward the bed in his enormous chamber. “Think of me, think of Perry, before you make rash decisions,” he ordered as I wrapped my legs around his waist.

  “How much time do we have?”

  “Less than an hour.”

  “Take off your clothes.”

  “Ah, Eva, no. I have too much to do in this hour.”

  I pouted, grinding myself against him. He gave a little pleasured sound, and I used that opportunity to wave my hand above our heads, making both of our clothes disappear.

  “We are all set for the party-dash-massacre. The only thing left for you to do is me.”

  Before he could protest, I was reaching for him, fitting him into me. He slid his hands under my armpits, peeling me away from his chest and holding me at arm’s length. “Very well, then,” he grinned, nodding toward the bed. “But unless we use some sort of birth control, the outcome of… events… will be very different.”

  I grinned, waving, and produced a tiny package in my fingers. He raised his eyebrows, impressed. “I’ll put it on you.”

  “You can create things now?”

  “So far, just kittens, credit cards, clothes, and condoms. Everything a girl needs,” I teased, dropping to my knees in front of him.

  I ended up needing two more before the hour was over. Will looked in on Perry before moving back under the blanket with me. “You are troubled, love. Are you afraid?”

  I turned more fully into his arms. If I could have crawled inside of him, I would have. “Would you ever consider… giving up the throne?”

  He turned to me with a surprised look. “Why would I do that, Eva?”

  “I don’t know.” I cringed, pressing my face to his bare chest, nestled in the light sprinkling of hair. He drew his hand over my curls.

  “You are thinking of the Romani woman’s prophecy.”

  “Why would Christopher reign over Icepond? You are the king,” I cried, and he hushed me gently.

  “As I said, the future is what we make of it, love. Never mind that woman’s ramblings.”

  “I’m afraid for you,” I buried my face in his shoulder, and he wrapped me completely in his arms. “I can’t let anything happen to you. I love you so fucking much, Will.”

  “And I love you, Eva. Nothing shall happen to me. I have a great responsibility. I must teach our daughter to speak like a lady, as her mother does not remember how.”

  I laughed, moving quickly to straddle him. “You like the way I talk.”

  He grinned. “I like the way you everything.”

  “Now, you sound more like me,” I began to move, and he groaned, lifting me up and off of him.

  “A costume gown. The theme is ‘the sun.’ Let us see what you can do, Eva Reed.”

  Grinning, I raised my eyes to the ceiling for a moment, thinking. “Eva Perry-Reed. And I need a mask?”

  “A Venetian mask.”

  “Those are those half-face deals, right?”

  “Yes, love,” he smirked, laying back and propping his head up on one arm to watch me.

  I began at my feet. Laced boots met tight pants that were vertically lined with stripes in two different shades of gold. A snug, strapped corset in complimenting shades of ocher and amber pushed my boobs up and together proudly, and a gown coat similar to my mother’s the night I saw her in the sword room flowed from behind me. I remembered her flower clip, and twisted one like hers but made of gold leaves
into my hair. The mask was black leather, and my hair was piled onto my head like a crimson crown.

  After a steady, measured exhale, my husband fixed his eyes on my chest.

  “Indecent.”

  I followed his line of vision to my heaving cleavage, cupping both my breasts and adjusting the corset. “What? They look good.”

  He stood, still deliciously naked, and leisurely walked to me. His eyes drank me in, and I turned in a slow circle for him.

  “Good God, Eva, you are a temptress. Beauty unsurpassed.”

  “Hot?” I added hopefully, knowing damn well I was on fire. He tipped my chin upwards, his gaze on my lips.

  “And now,” he tasted my mouth, so unhurried, and an unexpected flame burst out of the carpet to my right. Jolting, I extinguished it with an impatient wave of my hand, and he chuckled softly.

  “Now?” I teased, sliding slowly up and down the length of his body.

  His expression changed, and he took a step back. “Now, you will escort Violet, her daughters, and Perry to Earth.”

  “What?” I stepped back, dropping my hands. “What are you talking about?”

  “Eva,” he reached for his clothes, pulling from the garment bag lying across the chair. “I have discussed this with your father. Between Christopher, West, Logan, and me, we will conquer Troy without your assistance. You are needed to protect the children. To escort them to safety.”

  “What, because I’m a girl?” I snapped, and he shot me a warning glance at my shrill tone, gesturing our sleeping daughter in adjoining room. “No! I’m ready for him, Will! This has been my fight for centuries… this is what I was born for!”

  “You have more important responsibilities now, Eva. You are a mother. Just as your mother has sought to protect you for years, you will protect our daughter. You will take her from this place. Between Christopher and your father’s magic, this castle may not have a foundation when this battle is through. I will not have our daughter harmed.”

  “They’ll be safe! They’re in the secret room!”

  “Nothing is a secret in this castle, not from my father,” he snapped. “Find some maturity, for God’s sake, Eva, and listen to me.”