The Cities

by K. A Knight

  “Shut up, Doc, and lead the way,” I warn.

  He laughs but leads us through the castle. I’m glad we don’t go to the throne room, but instead stop at a big brown door just down the corridor from it. Evan swings it open and I spot a large round table in the middle of the room with paintings, torches, and other shit on the walls around. It reminds me of the room from The Summit, which has me wincing, but I cover it when every eye turns to me.

  Berserkers, Seekers, and rebels alike stand on our entry, all watching me. That’s when I realise they are waiting for me. Fuck, this queen shit really is hard.

  “Sit,” I bark.

  I spot the heartbroken man and the giant from yesterday leaning against the walls. Ignoring everyone else, I go straight up to them. “I never learned your names.”

  The giant smiles ruefully. “Bern, Ma Queen,” he offers.

  “Henry, My Queen,” the smaller man answers, with that fire still in his eyes, one I know too well.

  “Thank you, sit, please,” I add as an afterthought. I see their eyes widen but they rush to do as I ask. Dray is right, I need generals I can trust.

  I turn to the others, but a man blocks my path. I suck in a breath but straighten my spine, waiting.

  “Tazana,” he greets, watching me carefully.

  Noah’s father stands in front of me, looking the same as he did the last time I saw him, just with more wrinkles. He looks just like an older version Noah, and my heart clenches from seeing what my first love might have looked like if he had survived. “Erik.” I nod.

  He opens his arms then and pulls me to him. I stiffen and he squeezes before letting go. “You look good.” He nods to himself.

  “Thank you for coming so quickly,” I reply, unsure what else to say.

  I move around him before it can get more awkward, but I stop cold and turn to stare at him. “I’m sorry about Vasilisy, he was a good man.”

  He winces. “He was, but he has never been the same since he lost his wife, so maybe it was for the best. Some men can’t live on without their love. He died willingly for his family, for you, and the cause he believed in, and that means he died happy,” he states, looking at me so seriously I glance away, focusing on the table again.

  One chair is left with its back to the door, so I frown. Dray steps forward then, grabs a Seeker by the scruff of his neck, and yanks him from the seat that faces the door then offers it to me. I can’t help but smile as I round the table and slip into it. Henry, Bern, Erik, Archel, and the rebel from yesterday are sitting there, waiting. I spot Evan lingering near the door and look at Dray.

  “Let him look at your wounds,” I order.

  He grins at me. “No.”

  I hear Archel snigger, so I twist a blade from my side and without looking, throw it at him. I hear a yelp and glance over with a smirk to see him on the ground, having rolled from his chair, and the blade sticking from the wood where his head was. He laughs, gets to his feet, and yanks out the dagger, throwing it back to me. I catch it mid-air and sheathe it before looking back at Dray. More laughter booms around the room, but I concentrate on my Seeker King.

  “I cut you and fucked up your back, let him look,” I snap.

  “No,” he teases, leaning closer. “Just some more scars from my soulmate.”

  I groan. “They might get infected, let him look. Please,” I add almost painfully.

  His eyes narrow, the icy blue taking up my entire vision as the rest of the room fades away in our staring contest. He finally groans. “Fine, but they better still scar. I want them as a badge of honour,” he grumbles.

  I must be getting used to his brand of crazy, because I just nod and look around him to Evan. “Doc, check out his wounds, will you?”

  Evan eyes Dray worriedly, but grabs a bag on the floor I didn’t notice before, and steps closer. Dray does nothing to help him, just sits there, waiting. I can sense Evan’s nerves and I don’t blame him. He places the bag on the table and opens it, before grabbing a bottle and some cloth, and then turning to Dray. He mumbles something before stepping up and trying to get to the still weeping cut down his chest. Dray growls and steps back, Evan throws his hands up and looks to me for help.

  Men.

  Sighing, I stand up and kick out my seat, pointing from Dray to it. “Sit, now,” I command.

  He grins and slumps into the chair, stretching his legs out and watching me. “Anything else, soulmate?” he asks.

  “Lean forward,” I demand, smiling now.

  He does as he is told, and I move to the side so he can wrap his arm around my waist and lean into me. I nod at Evan then and he approaches, able to get to the scratches on Dray’s back with him leaning forward like this. I turn back to the table. “Okay, so let’s start at the beginning. As you all know, Ivar is dead.”

  Erik and a few others cheer, and I smirk and let them calm down before I open my mouth to carry on, but a growl and a scream has me looking back at Dray and Evan with an arched eyebrow. Dray has a blade pointed at Evan, who is frozen with the now wet cloth touching Dray’s many scratches crisscrossing along his back. I take a good look. Most are bleeding, red, and raw, but some are just scratches. Fuck, I really did let go last night.

  “If you kill him, I will be really mad,” I warn.

  “What about maiming?” Dray inquires, and looks up at me, blinking innocently.

  “No killing, torturing, or maiming. Let him look at your wounds or I will never play with you again,” I grind out.

  He growls but sheathes his knife. “Carry on, ignore him,” I tell Evan, and look back at the table where everyone is watching Dray and me curiously, all apart from a laughing Archel.

  “Aww, has Dray got a boo-boo?” he taunts.

  “I’ll gut you, then you’ll have to go crying to your woman about a boo-boo,” Dray fires back.

  Rolling my eyes to the ceiling, I try to find my patience. Sands below, sometimes I want to kill everyone just to get some peace and quiet.

  “Enough!” I yell and everyone falls silent.

  “So, oh great Berserker Queen…what next?” Archel calls with a grin.

  “We do not have time for this. This is what is going to happen. We are going to gather our best, I will appoint generals, and then head to The Ring. We will leave men behind to defend the castle. Before heading to The Ring, we will stop at Paradise to get some information. Once there, we are meeting up with Seekers, Worshippers, Reeves, and anyone else. We are preparing.”

  “Preparing for what?” Erik questions, leaning into the table with a frown.

  “War.”

  The room erupts into chaos, so grabbing my knife, I smash it into the middle of the table and the room goes silent again. “The Cities came here and they took what is mine, but they wont stop there. They want the North, they just don’t realise they can’t have it. It’s ours and we need to defend it. We will make peace once and for all, and we will drive them south until they never forget who it belongs to.”

  “Okay, so we are making a stand at The Ring?” Archel asks, confused.

  “No, you are going to wait there while I go to The Cities and bring them north. We fight where we know, in the Wastes, not on their turf.”

  “You’re headin’ to The Cities?” Bern inquires.

  “Yes, but first I need to get back what they have taken from me. Then, I will lead them north right to our awaiting armies.” I look at Erik then. “Gather your rebels, send word across the sands, we need every fighter.” I look at Dray then who nods. “Bern, Henry, you are my new generals. Decide who is staying and who is coming. Archel, get your Seekers ready to leave, and send word to the others.” He looks to Dray for confirmation and then nods at me. “We leave in two hours, go,” I order. Bern looks at Henry before he focuses on me.

  “Some Berserkers left in the night, I just thought you should know,” he informs me. I nod, my face calm, I expected that. There are still monsters in these walls and after the message I sent yesterday, I expected some deserters, th
at’s their choice.

  They get up slowly, but then Evan steps forward. “What are you getting from Paradise?”

  “The key to winning this war,” I answer, and then turn to Dray, dismissing them all.

  I hear them leave as I plant my hand on his shoulders and push him back so Evan can get to the wound on his chest. “Anything else?” I ask.

  “Not that I can think of. You need to convince the others though, but I have a feeling they will follow you.” He shrugs, ignoring the man who is cleaning the bleeding wound. “We need to go shopping though.”

  I tilt my head in confusion. “Shopping?”

  He grins then. “Weapons, we need more weapons.”

  I rack my brain and then smirk. “Let’s go shopping then.”

  Shopping Spree

  Dray eventually gets tired of Evan and I have to step in when he pins him to the wall, and I give up trying to let Evan treat him after that. Instead, I distract him with the idea of new weapons and he follows after me as I find my way through the castle. It is bustling with activity as everyone prepares to leave and head out. You can taste the excitement in the air and everyone grins and greets me as I walk past. We walk silently down the halls, heading to the front of the castle where the weapons store is. Men are filling in and out, packing up weapons to take as they get ready to fight. I head past them all, slipping to the back where I remember the hidden door is. Ivar showed me more than once, and loved telling me where he got each and every one from. It should be untouched.

  I depress the stone next to it and the door swings open, letting out a gust of stale air. Wrinkling my nose, I step in with Dray following on my heels with a torch. He slips it into the metal holder on the wall and I turn back with a grin. “This enough for you?” I wave my hand around to encompass the walls and shelves covered in every weapon imaginable. It’s even bigger than the collection he has in his bedroom.

  “I think I just came in my pants,” he mutters and I laugh, looking back at the walls.

  My eyes catch on a bow and I falter for a moment, wishing Drax was here. In fact, I wish all of them were here, but I shake it off though, not wanting to linger on thoughts of them when I don’t have time to be weak. “Let’s shop,” I offer instead.

  I head to one of the walls, noting the small daggers there. I grab a handful and after placing some in my boots, I grab another holder and wrap it around my hips and add them there also. I step back and look over the other weapons, I take another whip, since I enjoyed the last one, and coil it and add it to my belt. I still have my two swords and other daggers. I spot Dray sliding his hand across some smaller curved daggers and grin. He looks over his shoulder, obviously feeling my gaze, and winks at me.

  “You have the best toys, soulmate,” he purrs.

  Shaking my head, I look over the others, trying to think if I need any more, you can never have too many weapons, but I don’t want to weigh myself down too much, it will only slow me down and I’m betting I can’t sneak a lot of these into The Cities. “Here, soulmate,” Dray calls.

  I head over and place my head on his shoulder to see what has caught his attention. I whistle when I do, ridiculously attracted to the weapon he is palming and testing the weight of. There is something so hot about a man who knows how to handle his weapons. “This should fit you well,” he states, bringing my mind out of the gutter.

  The axe in his hand is small, a lot smaller than normal axes, almost like it was made for a woman. The edges are blackened to stop the shine in the light and I spot runes running down the sharp edge. The handle has similar symbols engraved in the black leather. It’s beautiful. Dray turns and offers it to me. I take it and give it a few swings, spinning as I go to test the heaviness. It feels good, smooth, and easy to use without throwing me off balance or weighing me down.

  I give it a few throws in the air before looking over at Dray to see him advancing on me, his eyes icy, and his lips thin and hard. I don’t back away like everyone else would, I meet him halfway. He grabs the back of my head and yanks me to him, our lips smashing together desperately as we battle with our tongues.

  I groan into his mouth and he yanks me closer, the weapons forgotten between us. I trace my hand down his chest before twisting one of his nipples roughly. He groans into my mouth and bites down on my bottom lip, making me gasp at the pain flowing through me. “We need to get ready,” I remind him, but even to me it sounds lame.

  “Don’t worry, this won’t take a minute,” he whispers, before spinning me to the wall and pinning me there.

  He kicks open my legs and slips his hand around me to flick open my jeans. I jerk against him, starting to struggle, but he keeps me pinned there as he yanks down my jeans until they are tight at my ankles, keeping me there so I don’t fall over. He cups my pussy, leaning closer. “Always so wet for me, soulmate, especially when there are weapons involved. Are you sure you’re not the crazy one?”

  I push back, trying to get free, but he smashes me into the wall again and pushes my panties to the side, running his fingers down my wet center, making me freeze. Biting my lip to stop from crying out, I pant into the wall, trying not to push against his fingers for more. He dips one inside of me before rubbing my clit, with no rhyme or reason as he attacks my pussy with one hand and keeps me pinned here effortlessly with the other.

  I groan when he pushes two fingers inside of me and curls them, and I can practically feel the smirk on his face, the bastard. “Dray,” I warn.

  He slams me harder into the wall and starts fucking me with his fingers. I have no choice but to stand there and take it as he yanks a release from me. I gasp and sputter with how quickly I came apart on his fingers. He lets me go so I spin, stumbling over my jeans before he presses me back to the wall, and as I watch, he sucks my cream from his fingers and closes his eyes in bliss before they lock on me again. He runs his eyes over me, but seems to stop at the brand on my shoulder and I frown. He’s never been bothered by them before.

  His hand grabs at my belt and I watch in confusion as he winds the whip around his hand. “Hands up.”

  I arch my brow so he grabs my throat and squeezes. “Now, soulmate.”

  Grinding my teeth, I do it, curious what he has in mind. He loops the whip around them and ties me to the wall behind me before stepping back and staring at me. “I saw their tattoos. Tell me, soulmate, did they get it for you?”

  “Huh?” I ask, confused.

  “Did you not think I knew about your other boys getting your brand on their skin?” he inquires, almost purring.

  “Well, no?” I ask, beyond confused now.

  “I have been waiting for you to ask me to get it done, I’m tired of waiting,” he explains as he palms a knife, I lick my lips at the flash of steel and he grins as he releases his chest holster and spins it so his bare chest faces me. My eyes dart from his eyes to his hands and back again.

  “Dray, what?” I gasp.

  He grins at me and places the tip of the knife on his chest, right above his heart. He starts to drag the blade so I pull on the whip, trying to get to him and he frowns, stilling. “Stop moving, I need to see the brand as I do it, we don’t want to have to burn this off and start again, do we?” he says casually, and I just gape at him. He can’t be serious?

  “What the fuck?” I yell.

  “I don’t see a tattoo artist here and I’m not going one more second without your symbol on my body, so I suggest you help me or we will have to keep going until we get this right,” he points out calmly, while smiling at me, all crazy and sexy as hell.

  I still only because I really don’t know what else to do. He looks back down and concentrates on the knife in his skin. I watch as he carves the brand from my skin onto his, right above his heart. They have all taken something that I see as a reminder of the hell I went through, a symbol of pain, and made it one of love. He winks at me every now and again and checks his progress. It’s slow going, but he doesn’t utter a peep, even as blood pools down his chest and drips to
the floor. Fuck, I’m going to have to get Evan to check him over again.

  When the last line is complete, he looks up at me, smiling widely and happy as hell with his crazy self. “What do you think?” he queries, and he looks so hopeful.

  I clear my throat and lick my dry lips, unable to stop the sappy smile curling my lips. “I love you, you crazy fucking bastard.”

  He smirks at me and steps closer. I tilt my head back and he kisses me softly, his bleeding chest pressing to my white shirt, but I don’t give a fuck. “Good thing you’re pretty,” I tease.

  He drops his forehead to mine and watches me with those icy eyes. “Let’s go get your other men.”

  I nod, my smile disappearing. I had forgotten, for just a moment.

  “Then I can show this off to them,” he adds, and a laugh snorts out of me.

  He unties me and I wind my whip again, adding it to my belt before hovering my fingers over his carved symbol. “We should get Evan to check this though.”

  “No,” he argues straight away.

  “But, if it gets infected it will mess with the design and no one will know what it is,” I cajole, matching his crazy with mine. It works.

  “Fuck, you’re right, okay.”

  He turns and heads away, muttering about doctors and killing people. I shake my head but follow after him, almost floating, his love is filling me up that much. For someone whose own father forgot about them, who didn’t love them enough to have someone like Dray…someone whose love might be twisted and a bit mad but so big and consuming, it’s a bloody miracle.

  Sands below, I’m one lucky bitch. Maybe karma is finally paying off from all the shit I’ve been through, but they make it all worth it. Each fight, each horror and loss, I would do it all again to have my men.

  A War Party

  The next hour or so goes quickly as I help everyone pack and get ready to go. I check over the selection of Berserkers to be left behind, before grabbing my weapons and supplies, and heading down to the bay where Bern has found me a ride. Near the wall of the castle, there’s a type of roughly constructed garage where they store bikes to keep the sand from getting in and ruining them. Bern leads me down to the end where a tarp covers something.