Stone Heir (The Kahlian Series Book 1)

by Aimee Hunter

  Relief swept through her when a gentle breeze ruffled the entrance flaps of the tent enough for her to clearly see a campfire with several people sitting and standing around it. As awareness reasserted itself, she realized that she could also hear the sounds of the camp around her. These sounds told her she was in the middle of a massive camp. The low murmuring of voices was nearly enough to drown out her own thoughts. Well, that answers one question, she mused to herself. Please don’t let me be where I think I am, she prayed fervently.

  Looking around again, she realized that her vision had adjusted to the darkness inside the tent. Taking a deep breath, she gagged. She rolled onto her side, nearly emptying the contents of her stomach when the stench of the Impure overwhelmed her. Regulating her breathing, between the god awful smell and the rising panic in her chest, was proving difficult. Rena was exactly where she feared she was. The mutant army encampment. The worst place for her to have ended up.

  It wasn’t until she tried to sit up that she realized her hands were bound. Her anxiety skyrocketed, she was a prisoner. Desperately trying to stay calm, she took a better look at her surroundings. Hoping that something would give away the identity of whoever brought her here. her pseudo prison was luxurious, with silk pillows, velvet comforters over a deep mattress that looked enticingly inviting. At end of the bed, sat a huge brass and wooden chest. Working her way to her knees, relieved to discover that her feet hadn’t been bound as well, she tried the lid. It was locked. Testing the ropes around her wrists, which were tied in front of her, her anxiety began to recede. She could easily free herself.

  Rena pulled herself to her feet, thankful at least to be able to walk freely around the confines of the tent. She briefly considered shifting but thought better of it when she saw a figure pass between the front of the tent and the fire that offered some light, pushing back the tent flap. By the time the figure straightened, Rena was back on the floor where she had been dropped. Her acute sense of hearing picked up the sound of male laughter when the person who had entered her gilded prison finally spotted her. The wolf paced slowly inside of her, just waiting for an opportunity to act.

  The man walked over to the only simple piece of furniture. A large table that held a lantern. She heard the strike of a match then light flared, temporarily blinding her after the near total darkness she had become accustomed to. Once her eyes adjusted, she saw that the table also held an obscene amount of food and drink. Her stomach growled at the sight, her mouth watered at the smell.

  The man turned towards her and even though she had known he was here, she couldn’t hide her shock at his presence. Devon. He smiled cruelly, taking a seat in a fashionably disgusting chair. Rich in red velvet, trimmed in gold. He gestured for her to sit in the simple wooden chair, which creaked when she eased onto it.

  “Why am I here?” she demanded to know immediately. Tensing as he shook his head and laughed again.

  “You are here because you were promised to me. I intend to see that promise kept,” he informed her passively. “After all, you did agree to spend time getting to know me yesterday.”

  “Being kidnapped isn’t really what I had in mind when I agreed to spend time with you, Devon.” She snarked at him. The Prince pursed his lips in thought, chuckling softly.

  “Point taken. But honestly, Princess,” he began conciliatorily, “how was I to have any hope of gaining your attention, with so many distractions around.” Rena stared at him, waiting to see how long he would keep up this nice guy façade.

  Devon reached out, grasping one of the bottles on the table, pouring a drink. Setting the bottle back in its place, he eyed the Princess across from him. He was well aware that once Damian’s army took Culville, he would have no need for the Princess beyond personal desires. The alliance with Eastland would no longer be required. But she had been promised to him, and even Devon knew he was a selfish man. He slid a plate of food over to her, placing the cup he had just poured in front of her as well.

  “Eat. Drink. I’m sure it’s been awhile since the last time you ate.” Despite her hunger, Rena didn’t even so much as glance down at the food. Her eyes remained trained on his smug face. Resisting the all-encompassing urge to break the ropes from her wrists and wipe the smirk off his face. Devon was beginning to grow impatient with her. The least she could do was acknowledge his gesture. Instead she just stared at him blankly. It was unnerving. Taking a long drink from his out cup, he narrowed his eyes at the woman. Maybe it was time she learned that the only value she held now, was that he wanted her.

  He grinned wickedly.

  “Now that the alliance with your kingdom is dead, you should be thanking me for seeing to your safety personally. I could have easily left you in the city to be killed with the rest of the chattel.”

  “The only thing I should be thanking you for, is showing me so quickly what a terrible, pathetic excuse for a human being you really are.” She spat contemptuously at him. Her entire body screamed her disgust with him. Rage seized him at her words.

  “You will if you want your precious Mason to live.” He threatened in a frigid voice. He grinned, seeing Rena’s face drain of color.

  “Where is she?” she growled harshly. In that moment, when he had threatened Mason’s life. Rena had finally understood how people could be driven to kill. She wanted to rip the bastards throat out.

  “She’s in Culville with her idiot sister and their disgusting mutant friend,” he informed her, once again confident in his superior position by her reaction. “At the moment, they’re safe. But refuse me and I’ll personally see them all dead.” His tone got colder, as his expression became maniacal. “You belong to me, Rena. And soon you will belong to me in every way a wife can belong to her husband.” He reached out, grabbing her arm in a grip that was no doubt meant to hurt her.

  For the first time, Rena truly understood her own power. She knew that a normal human woman would have cried out in pain. She looked down at the fingers biting into her skin through a mask of indifference before turning her gaze up to his. The wolf in her paced out of her hiding place within Rena’s soul. For the first time confronting another person. She didn’t try to hide the wolf from Devon. Instead she let him have full view of the deadly beast he had awakened in her.

  “Get your hands off of me,” her voice rumbled from deep within her throat. Devon’s grip loosened with shock. She seemed to change right before his eyes. Becoming something altogether more dangerous than she should have been. Some primal part of his brain recognized the lethal predator he found himself faced with and quivered in fear.

  “Yes, Prince Devon. Remove your hands from the Princess.” Damian said from just inside the tent opening. “You are not yet married and should not be taking such liberties.” He scolded gently. Devon grunted in frustration, releasing her. He stood and stamped out of the tent. Throwing a petulant glare at Damian as he passed him.

  The Kahlian only smiled, bowing to the Prince. When he was gone he turned back to the young woman still sitting at the table. He noticed that she was in the process of making herself a sandwich out of thinly sliced honey and smoked turkey, slicing some of the smoked cheddar cheese before putting it all together. As she took her first bite, it found himself wondering at her calm demeanor. She should’ve been in tears, begging or in pain. Showing some kind of nervousness. Yet here she was, calmly eating a sandwich and drinking that god awful liquid humans loved so much.

  Rena sipped at the hot beverage, closing her eyes in ecstasy.

  “Ahh! Coffee.” She moaned appreciatively then set to work on her sandwich with gusto. With Devon gone, she found that she could stomach food and she needed to keep her strength up if she wanted to escape.

  “You are a strange one, Princess Rena,” Damian observed. “Most women would be a mess right now.” Rena considered him for a moment before turning back to her food. He was a very handsome man, but he wore such an air of cruelty that she found him nearly as repulsive as she did Devon.

  “You’ll
find, Lord Damian, that I am not like most women.” She said in a mysterious tone finishing her meal and draining the last dregs of coffee from the tin cup she had found. The cup of wine Devon poured her, remained on the table where he’d placed it along with the plate of food he’d given her. Untouched.

  Damian frowned at her disregard of him. His displeasure grew when his eyes fell on the feast spread out on the table. Meat of every kind and cut had been supplied along with various cheeses and breads. He counted six different wines. There vegetables on the table that he didn’t even recognize. He would have to have a talk with Devon about excessiveness.

  In the midst of all that splendor and fine food, sat Rena. As though she were a Queen setting to a dinner with friends. She was bedraggled, bound and blood stained the collar of her shirt from when Devon had knocked her out. Yes. Definitely going to have to have a talk with that boy.

  Rena, meanwhile used the opportunity to observe Damian unnoticed. He had the look of a man accustomed to getting his way no matter the cost. She remembered Mason mentioning that he is Kahlian. She said that they could recognize their kind by a certain scent. When Rena noticed the strange odor, she’d asked Mason if that was what she smelled like. She had been told no.

  The scent that was the calling sign of the Kahlian was like being able to smell the wild nature of the wolf within. The fierce freedom, the constant struggle for life. The hunt. The kill. Life, death and birth. Like the great Mother had handed the Kahlian her own special scent. That of life everlasting. Mason told Rena that she had a different smell. One she had only encountered once in her life. She said that Rena smelled like the ocean. The crashing, rolling waves. The flowing giver of life. Rena didn’t know why that was significant. Though she was pleased to be reassured that she didn’t smell like fish.

  Remembering this made Rena smile. Thinking about Mason always did that to her, but she was smiling for a different reason this time. The different scent meant that Damian probably didn’t know that she too was a Kahlian. Which meant that he would underestimate her. For some reason she found this amusing.

  Damian stalked over to the elaborate chair, giving it a disgusted glare before sinking into it. The aristocratic wolf in him disdaining such an overt show of wealth. He tore a leg off of a beautiful juicy, golden turkey. He set this on a heavy gold plate that was nearly as old as he was. Then he grasped the bottle of wine Devon had used, pouring a healthy amount into an equally elaborate goblet.

  “You seem as disgusted by all of this as I am.” Rena ventured.

  “I don’t enjoy wallowing in wealth, Princess. I find it, unnecessary.” He explained as he began to eat. Rena gave him an odd look.

  “Unnecessary?” she questioned curiously. Damian smiled and nodded as he swallowed.

  “Most people who put on such a show of wealth and power like this, are often weak and cowardly. They need to show how much money they have, all the fine things they possess. Because with that implied wealth is the implication of power,” he explained. Pausing to wet his throat with wine before continuing. “The freedom to do whatever they want. It is meant to intimidate. All of this grandeur, is merely window dressing. Promising everything but giving nothing.” He tossed the now bare bones of the turkey leg he’d just devoured onto his plate.

  “Take your situation for example,” he said, looking at her closely now. Rena tensed at the sudden change in the atmosphere of the tent. “This was all staged to impress and intimidate you. Because let’s face it, Princess. Eastland is not a rich kingdom like Midland is. All of this is a promise and a warning. Yes, he can give you anything you desire, but you are and always be a possession to him. To lose yourself in all of this would be signing your death warrant.” Damian leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers across his stomach, laughing softly in amusement at her predicament. “Subterfuge, my dear. You’re up to your pretty neck in it.” He warned her. “But, as I was saying, I have no need for such posturing. My actions speak louder than any of this ever could.”

  Rena mimicked his posture, relaxing back into her chair. Listening carefully to what he was saying.

  “And what are your actions supposed to be telling me, Lord Damian?” she asked bemusedly. He didn’t answer immediately, choosing instead to drain his wine then refill his cup first. Snagging another leg of turkey as he did.

  “You are alive because the Prince values you. If he did not, I would have already killed you.” He told her plainly. Rena raised her eyebrows slightly at that. Hmmm, she mused.

  “I have no use for you, Princess. Be glad that he does. Because the moment he loses interest in you, I’ll slit your throat.” Rena’s heart skipped at beat in fear. He would do it, she was convinced. She could see in his eyes he wasn’t lying.

  “I see what you mean about all this being unnecessary for you.” She stated, seeing him nod and sip his wine. Rena leaned closer to his face, her chest nearly laying on the table between them as she caught his gaze. “If you do decide to slit my throat, Damian. Make sure I am dead. Because I swear to you, if even one breath remains in me. I’ll use it to take you with me.” She used the same calmly lethal tone that he had, while her blood was racing with a sick fear.

  Damian could smell that fear rolling off of her and admired her bravery. He didn’t doubt her words any more than she doubted his. He even felt a little tingle of anticipation.

  Rena’s brow furrowed when she saw Damian freeze, his entire body going rigid. A shadow passed through the room. Leaving a cold shock to the air in its wake. Damian’s eyes followed it, they were the only part of his body he could move. Rena tracked the shadow to where it came to a stop. The figure was completely cloaked. Not just in cloth, but in darkness as well. She could feel the evil this person carried with them and knew that the darkness they wore was a reflection of the black soul that inhabited this creature. This person’s mere presence scared the hell out of Rena. She sucked in a calming breath and tasted a unique scent that only carried hints of Kahlian.

  Shit, she cursed silently.

  “You must be Princess Rena MacKinnon from the Eastland Kingdom.” The icy words slithered out of the black cowl. She stood slowly, not willing to be in a vulnerable position before this creature. Rena realized Damian was paralyzed and swallowed her fear.

  “Who are you?” she asked, trying to control the quaver of her voice. The evil figure laughed softly, dipping its head down. Rena got the distinct impression that she was being studied. The creature reached up slowly pushing the cowl back. Revealing a young looking man with short cropped black hair and disturbing red eyes. That glowed.

  He had something of a plain face. His eyes and his coldly beautiful smile the only distinctive features. His hands were the only other part of his body that was showing. They were strong looking. The fingers were long and the nails well kept. Her gaze rose back to meet his when he spoke in that deceptively soft voice.

  “I am Dominus.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Traveling through the night, Diana and her company approached an old abandoned town as the red-orange flames of the rising sun broke the horizon. Though it had been a few centuries and many of the buildings were destroyed, she was fairly certain this town had once been a Native American Reservation. Because of this and its proximity to a Military base from a bygone era, Diana knew they would be able to find a vehicle. Hopefully one large enough to accommodate everyone. Gathering Xavier and his officers around, she gave a description of the vehicle they needed.

  “How many of you have ever seen an automobile?” she started. A few, including the Captain, raised their hand. “Good. What we are looking for is a type of truck. It needs to be large enough for everyone.” She told them, while kneeling down and drawing a rough outline in the dirt with her finger of the general shape of the truck she wanted.

  “That sort of looks like an old world personnel transport vehicle.” Dumas mused. Diana and Kylie both looked at him in surprise. “Before we repopulated the surface, my ancestors where mechanics a
nd engineers. They helped to keep the lights on, the water running and the oxygen safe to breath. Some of them even worked on trucks like the one you described. I grew up on stories about them.” Xavier explained, smiling at the fond memories. Diana found herself smiling back at him before clearing her throat self-consciously.

  “Alright then, moving on.” She said turning to Kylie, eyes narrowing at the smirk on the younger woman’s face. “Go with Captain Dumas. The only automobiles that have a chance of still working will be the ones outfitted with solar panels.” Diana ordered, knowing that Kylie would know what to look for. Once her daughter indicated her understanding, she split the group in two. Taking half with her, sending the rest with Kylie and Dumas. There was a building not too far from where they were currently standing that was only missing one wall. Diana instructed everyone to meet there at noon.

  Over the next few hours, the two groups made their way through the ruins of the small town. Gradually dispersing to search side roads as they came across them. Kylie and Xavier would split to check any building that looked like it could house a vehicle before meeting back up and continuing their search. Every so often Kylie could feel Xavier’s eyes on her; she could only imagine the questions bouncing around inside his head. She glanced at him in her periphery, not even bothering to hide her smirk. She knew the Captains interest in her mother had been piqued. Kylie idly wondered if the human would have the courage to approach Diana.

  Their search had turned up nothing by the time they were supposed to meet back up with the others. Making the trek back in companionable silence, each lost to their own thoughts, Kylie and Xavier shared a stunned look when the unmistakable sound of an engine roaring to life broke the peaceful afternoon. A flock of frightened birds took flight at the noise, once the most common of sounds in this land. The group picked up their pace, making for the location of the sound instead of the designated meeting point. The noise led them to a dilapidated building that Kylie recognized as a late Twenty-First Century Military Supply Depot.