She heard every word of his warning. Still, she pushed ahead. But, she was relieved to hear him follow, even if it was laced with colorful curses tossed at her.
Her progress halted when a large chunk of concrete shifted and fell into her path.
“Are you out of your mind?” David pulled her against his chest.
“David.” She tapped his shoulder. “Look. It’s a part of the temple.” Starr dropped to her knees. She struggled to pull away large pieces of masonry. Broken slabs showed the W symbols of the Cassiopeia Sisterhood, the constellation shape of the same name.
“Move aside. I’ll do it.”
She didn’t budge. There was no time for old fashioned civility. Time had run out. Leaving this tunnel would stop any hopes of restoring the Nuuba Dynasty.
They moved the debris together. It was a slow and back-breaking job, and sweat trickled down Starr’s back. No part of her was dry from the hard labor of clearing away parts of the old city. Before long, they found a small path that took them deeper into the ruins.
From the frescoed wall and tiled pavements, Starr knew they were on the palace grounds. Her gaze swept over the area. Any hint would do, no matter how small. Hunched over, she looked for any discerning clues to their exact location.
“There. Over there. The steps to the throne room.” She pointed and climbed over the small dirt piles. Her knees paid the price as she clambered to the top, sliding and falling into place on the other side.
“Slow down.” David followed her. “I have to admit that this stuff is really amazing.”
Ahead lay the queen’s quarters. Starr was sure of it. Carefully she made her way to the area. Only the foundation at the base was left. Remnants of the bright yellow paint guided her to where the doorway would be that accessed the temple under the palace.
“Can you help me move these pieces?”
“I’m a bodyguard not a superhero.” Nevertheless, he walked over to the blockage.
“David, listen to me.”
“Do I have a choice?” He sounded cranky as he tried to move one of the large chunks of a wall.
“You have to help me get to the temple. Once there I can remove the veil that has kept you from knowing the truth.” She’d rather have explained everything under more hospitable conditions. A cozy conversation to be had in his house. But he wasn’t ready, then. She didn’t realize how much he couldn’t remember until reconnecting with him, now three years later.
“What veil?” He looked down at his clothes and casually brushed at his head.
“Before the final end came, Queen Mayala, your mother—”
“My mother? I’m a Royal bodyguard.”
“Let me finish, please. Your mother, the queen, knew about the prophecy that warned of this troubled period. This is why she created the sisterhood. When she knew she was going to die, she ordered the High Priestess Izana to lower a veil to hide who you are … the heir to Nuuba, ruler of Theos. The High Priestess was killed for what she’d done, along with the king and queen. It was left to me to raise the veil. But I can’t do it unless I get into the temple.”
“And you kept this from me all this time? Three fucking years?”
“I had to find you. I had to make sure you were ready.”
“If I was ready? I was born ready. This was mine,” he shouted.
“I didn’t steal it from you.” Starr had tried to prepare for this day. Not that her plans meant they’d share the most intimate and vulnerable side with each other. “Your tattoo is the design on your family’s tribal badge. It will be complete on the day of your ordination.”
He rubbed his chest. Confusion still clouded his expression. A frown settled in place, growing deeper as he stared at her.
“Please help me. Together we can do this, for your parents’ sake.” The incentive was the right one.
The information fueled his fire as he picked up one rock, then another. He worked like demons were on his heels, hoisting and throwing large blocks of cement to one side. She worked on the smaller obstacles. Finally, the gaping hole, once the doorway to the temple, appeared.
“I will go first.” He didn’t wait for her objections. “I hope there isn’t any collapse.”
Starr hoped for the same. She didn’t have a Plan B. Simply telling David the truth wasn’t enough. His essence had to be awakened and must participate in the ceremony.
They proceeded slowly. There was no way to test the probability of a cave-in.
“We’re here.” Starr stepped forward to the altar. She bowed and paid homage to the High Priestess and the eternal order.
David stood next to her, staring ahead. Motionless. Calm. She admired the profile of the man she loved.
“Are you, all right?” she asked, but didn’t want to push. This was his time to ponder, celebrate, or curse.
“I don’t remember anything.” His mouth tightened. He looked at her. His forehead creased with deep lines of worry. His gaze returned to the ruins. “Shouldn’t something come back to me?”
“It will. I promise.” She wanted to kiss him, press her lips against his, take away the sorrow that would hit. The pain of awareness that would crash into him. From the blank background as a guard to knowing that he was a son, a prince, who had lost not his king and queen, but his father and mother. His bloodline that set him apart had been broken. In all this time, he hadn’t been able to grieve and absorb the loss. With all the powers that she possessed and skills at survival, she could do nothing for when that time would come.
Starr kneeled next to him. Time to prepare her mind for the monumental task.
“Don’t.” His voice sliced through her concentration.
She waited.
“I don’t know about this. You’re about to make me a prince.” His chest rose and fell. “Then, what? I’m no one up there.” He spun around. “Ruins. Chaos. Nothingness.” He squatted next to her. “That’s the kingdom I will rule? With one snap of your fingers.” He snapped his fingers in her face. “Why did you come into my life?”
Starr braced herself. Even if she could explain, he wouldn’t hear her. How she wished for Madame Voorhees’ calming influence for her and for him. Shutting out his panic, for the moment, closing off herself from the misery that still dwelled among the ruins, she settled her spirit. The prayer extended out from her soul, through her heart, uttered through her mouth. Its old language of clicks and guttural sounds floated out and over them, its power meant to bring a calming blanket over David’s shoulders. She continued the prayer that was usually done with other sisters. On faith, she pressed on, hoping that a cosmic connection would occur, near or far.
The dank air slowly lifted from the floor. The free flow of air swirled around her feet, alerting her that it had worked. Her prayer chain had been cosmically connected. Its power continued to soar pushing up the dread and despair that the battle created and the earthquake and tsunami finished. Up it went into the overhead foundation and beyond, lifting until it could be free of the confines of this place and evaporate into the air above.
David shifted from his squat position to stand. Noticeably relaxed, although he still frowned, his panic had subsided.
“It’s not for me to make you a prince. You have been granted that divine right and power through your dynastic line. No matter where you are, you are the prince of a noble family. It’s time that the king is returned to his people.”
“I am ready.”
His assent signaled to her that it was time to begin. Poetic verses filled her mind. Worries of remembering what to do disappeared. She chanted the rhythmic incantation in the formal ceremonial language of the priestess.
The song switched to a solemn prayer. She stood and slowly stripped him naked, this time for the royal rite.
From her satchel, she retrieved a small covered cup filled with balsam and olive oil. The fierceness of his gaze had the same power as if he had touched her. But she understood his curiosity. Standing so close to him, she didn’t sense any unease.
<
br /> First the tribal dynasty tattoo. Removing the cover of the small cup, she dipped her finger and traced the elaborate path of the inked design. Once the prayer ended, she reverted to singing the verses again. This time, she tiptoed to reach the top of his head. Thankfully, he bowed slightly to assist. She poured the rest of the oil on his head. It tracked a slow path through his thick hair, down his forehead and over the length of his nose.
With her thumbs, she spread the oil. “I take this precious oil and anoint your eyelids for you to see the world with compassion. I spread the oil over your mouth for you to speak with wisdom. I spread the oil over your heart for you to love your people. I spread the oil over your forehead for the logic and creativity to be a balanced ruler.”
Her prayers grew rapid and incessant. She didn’t need the bright lights from the helmet to see him transform. The sounds of the shift told her the time was on hand. No sudden moves. Nothing to jar the transformation. She retreated with measured steps to give him room, but to also be close on hand, in case he needed her assistance.
David’s head snapped back and then forward.
His body emitted a series of loud pops and cracks that torqued his joints into odd alignments. Each snap roused a mournful roar. The contortions seemed to go on forever.
His breathing grew ragged. Chest rising and falling, with increasing tempo. Skin glistened with a honeyed sheen. From the sharp contractions, his body elongated and shrunk in a preordained sequence of anatomical collapsing and stretching.
Starr knew that searing pain was a part of the process as his human self switched places with the beast. Now his human essence would take residence deep within his soul. It shared only emotions in this play of nature’s will. The physical nature of the alpha lion took dominance.
Already the beast shifted through its delivery until completely transformed. His lion’s mane grew thick and luxurious, a shade of golden honey mixed with dark hairs. He struck a regal pose of power, standing, on all fours, with right paw forward. Defined muscularity displayed his vitality. No doubt was entertained of his physical abilities. Retractable claws almost glinted their additional use as weapons.
The new king of the Nuuba Dynasty had returned to claim his rightful place in history. On cue, David roared, a thunderous number of grunts that escalated to blast the eardrums. On his own terms, at his own time, he wound down.
“Open your eyes.” She talked to him as if he were still David in human form.
He obeyed. His eyes were no longer the greenish hazel eyes with round pupils.
“Now do you remember?” She continued issuing prayers, this time for his protection.
He looked around the room and then at her. She knew that in this state his emotions were intense and volatile. In this state, he could kill her without the slightest provocation.
Emotions flickered across his face. He roared, soft and hoarse. She stroked his massive head and laid her face against his cheek. He blinked before pulling away and running out of the room.
“David!”
Only a mournful roar was his response.
She stood alone, in front of the altar. “What have I done?”
Chapter Seven
David awoke from a deep sleep to raised voices arguing nearby. Where was he? Certainly not in his bedroom with its familiar oak furniture and standard beige walls. He blinked, hoping to clear the confusion. The effort to think felt like running full steam in knee-deep mud.
Damn. His back hurt. Straightening his leg, he hit a solid mass. He concentrated on penetrating the darkness to see what dangers may lurk.
Rocks. Debris. And he lay on the ground. Naked. A long gold cylinder clasped in his hand.
He sneezed. The dust tickled his nose. A patchwork of memories blasted to his consciousness.
Starr! The underground city. The ceremony.
Memories now flooded like a super-train bearing down the tracks. Every detail of life flashed and filed into his mind like a seriously large deck of cards.
“Wait a minute.” His voice echoed. “I shifted.” Complete recollection of the change rushed in with a physical shake up of his balance. The pain, the physical labor, the silent understanding between him and his beast. He’d run from Starr, seeking familiarity and comfort. His father’s palace provided the needed sanctuary, even if it was mere rubble. The gold cylinder had been taken from the vault. The documents, the last official wishes of his father were written and put away for him to find. Coming here with Starr had been more than coincidence.
All of it occurred under Starr’s ministry. Gratitude warmed his heart, but there was something else that he was ready to identify. Love. He wanted her to be his. Their match felt perfect. Not until this minute did he understand the reason behind his intense feelings. After they made love, the emotional tumult that he didn’t understand had caused him to push back with a cold attitude, and harsh tone.
More realization hit him square in the chest. Her one and only time to be with a man was with him. His grin turned into a chuckle. His humor had a touch of fatigued delirium as he doubled over laughing heartily.
The voices that initially had awaken him started up again with their argument. Time to investigate. David went in search of his clothes, which he found neatly folded in the area where the ceremony took place.
He’d just fastened the last button on his shirt, when Starr’s voice rose in the boisterous exchange. The other voice, a male, was muffled. No matter how hard he tried to listen and decipher, the man’s responses weren’t clear.
An odd vibe stirred his need to be cautious.
Nostrils flared to sniff the air. Could it be? The hairs raised on the back of his neck. His shoulders tensed. No mistaking the scent of another male lion. An Alpha. He growled, a low warning rumble. His successful shift caused him to be more suspicious now. And more territorial.
Quietly he walked toward them. As he got closer, the odd scent that confused his ability to decipher was not only that of an Alpha, but one close to death. Sickness oozed off his gaunt body. The repellant odor grew and he halted his approach. Should he be this close to whatever ate away at the man’s existence?
The sick Alpha mumbled in an unknown language. David’s spattering of Italian, French, and tourist essentials of Arabic didn’t help with this case.
Then Starr responded in the similar indecipherable sound of words that strung together in a sing-song way. Not only was her response soft, but her manner toward the man was gentle and attentive.
Jealousy built up with white-hot speed, pushing away dams like a raging current, ready to destroy and wipe away from existence. Veins pumped with his blood corded around his muscles. His head reared back and his canines elongated with their pinpoint edges. Sick or not, this Alpha shouldn’t be here. His beast face shifted in, ready to take the rest of his body for the ride.
Starr turned and saw his transformation. “Please, don’t. He needs you, David.” She ran to him, flinging herself into his arms. The lion retreated, knowing it wasn’t needed or wanted that day. Now that he knew he could shift and go full rage, he also knew he had to control each moment.
Starr returned her attention to the frail thing curled in a sick ball at her feet. She left David and resumed cradling and rocking him in her arms. Her sobs never stopped. David had never seen anything like it. This beast hung in a horrific suspended state of man and lion. From his waist down to his feet, his lion had broken free and refused to return.
Soft wheezing was the clue that he still had life. His breathing labored as if it hurt to have his lungs expand or decrease. His ribcage protruded under thin skin.
“It’s okay. Come closer.”
David did walk closer, aiming his light at the creature’s face. The man, if he was to call it such, turned his head into Starr’s body.
David’s hands balled into fists.
The man clearly didn’t or couldn’t endure an intrusion. A long hollow roar came from him, seemingly dragging more energy from him.
“D
avid, let me explain.”
The man looked up at him. His eyes barely opened. Drool pooled at the side of his mouth.
“You!” David took a step forward, his teeth bared. His body bulked.
His attention shifted back to Starr and he took a step back. How had he not noticed? The golden flecks in her soft brown eyes had transformed into familiar orbs. Her dark curly hair framed a face that had morphed with brow, cheek and chin like his mother’s strong, yet delicate shape. His shifter mother.
Who she was had never been in question. His mother had introduced them three years ago. Then, she wasn’t known to him as a priestess, but one of many of his mother’s personal attendants.
What she was also had never been in question. His mother tended to surround herself with those in need of food, shelter, and a kind hand. Whether they were shifters, hybrid, wildcats or jaguars, in his mother’s heart, all were welcomed.
Taking a more discerning inspection of Starr, all the attributes were there. She wasn’t a wildcat. Though she served as a priestess to the secret sisterhood, her true nature was pure beast. Anger fueled the betrayal, the sickening reality, that she was the one to not only lift his veil, but also to open his heart. Of all the women he could have fallen in love with, it had to be a lioness. He grimaced. A lioness who tended to her beast lover, who was also his mortal enemy. Xavier.
His claws extended. He circled the traitors. Contemplating their demise felt good. Nothing else soothed his rage. All her words of comfort and understanding stung his heart like the lashes of a whip. Those hands, her mouth and kisses that he treasured, her body that he paid homage to—all of the memories turned sour deep in his gut. His pride had turned inside out to shame. One thing was for sure, they would be dead before he left this room. And he wouldn’t need to shift to accomplish the task.
“He is not your enemy.”
“I remember everything. You made sure of that.” He fought his erotic yearnings for more time with her.
“Yes, but Xavier wasn’t the traitor.”
“He killed my parents. And he would have killed me, too, if the earthquake hadn’t stopped him.”
Into the Pride (Nuuba Pride Shifters #1) by Michelle Monkou Page 5