Eternal Darkness (A Novel of the Amagarians Book 1)

by Stacy Reid

  She wiped the blood trickling from her lips down to her chin. She clenched her blade, trying to control the shivers racking her frame. Her breath hitched as she shifted, lowering her hands to feel gingerly along her ribcage. She flinched at the sharp bite of pain. Her close combat Taijiu was well honed and deadly, but her opponent seemed just as skilled. She struggled to battle down panic and think of a strategy to get herself out of the situation she stood in.

  ***

  Drac shiktred—using the shadows to travel—from castle Kerberos, inhaling the dark beauty of his kingdom. Animals slithered from the rocks and underbrush, scuttling to safety as he uncoiled from the shadows. Growls, frenzied cries and screeching rose in a crescendo of sounds as he disturbed the predators of the forest. His mind worked cold and calculating, as he wove the pattern of how he would trap the enemy. An eight legged mammoth of a beast roared a challenge at Drac. He disappeared from its sight, roiling with the darkness, covering thousands of miles in only a few minutes to enter the Morie—the forest that led to his domain.

  He halted as energy, live and crackling caressed his skin. Drawn by the need to feed, he shadowed to the edge of the border. The man and woman were so intent on killing each other; he doubted they had noticed that not two hundred feet from them lay the border of the Darkage. Certainly they would not have lingered had they realized. Drac’s chakra pulsed as he consumed the dark energy leaking from them.

  The female’s distress hit him, and he relished her fear and rage. Drac’s blood churned, and his beast uncoiled and stretched as it fed for the first in a long time. Darkans fed from the negative energy others gave off. It was not their only source of nourishment, as the other six kingdoms believed. They ate food, laughed, fought, and fucked like everyone else in Amagarie.

  The darkness he possessed also needed to be fed, and as its chakra was pure malignity, it got satisfaction from absorbing only the darkest of energies. The more it fed, the stronger it became. Many of his kind tried to suppress the savagery of their beast by not feeding it at all. Drac thought that was nonsense, as power and duplicity were necessary to surviving in any kingdom, and his darkness knew all about that.

  He tracked the female as she fought with skillful grace. Rage rolled off her in waves. Her eyes were wide, face pale, but the grip on her weapon never wavered. Her dance with her dagger as she attacked and defended was graceful, ageless. He assessed her poise, curiosity stirred and a deep pulse of something he could not identify slithered through him. He felt her anger bank and it turned into something even sweeter: pain. Drac’s gut tightened and a groan rumbled in this throat as the rush became more pleasurable. He inhaled her pain, and the beast within raised its head, savoring the decadent taste. Power hummed and stretched beneath the surface of his skin.

  Fear rose in her, intoxicating his senses. He glanced at her opponent to see what constituted the change. Ahh… another had joined him. A snarl of satisfaction resonated within him as her dread fed his beast to satiation. Drac leaned back on a tree as he observed the scene before him keenly.

  ***

  Saieke stumbled, grief cramping her stomach. Her Queen’s Blades had to be dead or dying. The other Mevian presence indicated their defeat. Please protect Kamu and Thyon, and if they have perished, safely shepherd their souls to the other side.

  “You are without options, Princess. Cease resisting or suffer the consequences.”

  Fighting to resist the enthrallment in his tone, Saieke flared her power, searching for water to execute her keni and found none. She refused to panic, trying to stay calm and unemotional. Surrender was not an option. To attack another royal was bold. Mevia wanted something from her kingdom or from Nuria. The Mevians could demand an outrageous ransom and her parents would pay it—even if it crippled her kingdom.

  She straightened her shoulders, widening her stance. There was one option they would never dream she would pursue. She had glimpsed the border behind her—the utter darkness—and only felt dread. Taking an even breath, she speared her senses, seeking other chakras and found none. If there were anyone else within a mile’s radius, she would have sensed them. Saieke hoped the Mevians also feared the Darkans’ brutality and would not pursue her into their domain.

  Saieke’s heart thrummed and apprehension skated up her spine. The dark ones fed from the people of Amagarie, and they were just plain evil. Rumors abounded that the chakra from demons lived within Darkan—a chakra so malevolent it could not face the light. Legend held that millenniums ago their king, in a bid for power to rule all kingdoms of Amagarie, made a deal with the Demon King. A bargain that destroyed one of Amagarie’s suns leaving them in darkness and with the presence of a chakra so vicious they were reviled by all.

  She was royally screwed. It was the Mevians or the Darkage, and in the darkness there was only death. Yet after assessing her situation, it seemed her only chance of escape. She dismissed the inner voice screaming that she was afflicted with insanity, anyone from Mevia was better than Darkans. Saieke drew a deep breath, harnessed her chakra, and ran with the wind beneath her feet to the darkness.

  ***

  Drac’s indolent posture disappeared into sharp predatory awareness. Her two pursuers rushed after her with no hesitation, and within seconds they crossed the border into his realm. Slight fear wafted from her attackers, which they quickly suppressed. Interesting they had such control over their fear, knowing where they trod.

  A soft bluish light glowed around the female. She was not fast enough, a beacon for her pursuers to follow. Drac coiled with the shadows, keeping pace as they moved further into his kingdom.

  Who was she?

  She stopped and wiped away the glow of chakra, plunging her attackers into unrelenting darkness.

  He observed her as she stood with absolute stillness. Unease snaked from the two men, who slowly unsheathed the swords strapped to their backs. She looked in their direction as if she could sense their presence.

  Drac glided behind her soundlessly. She was breathtakingly beautiful. He reached out, almost compelled to touch her hair. It hung to her hips, its hue a mixture of fire and jasper. A sharp stab of arousal lanced though him as he drank in the slant of her cheekbones, soft lips, and her lush figure. She wore a blue caftan that molded her curves with precision, hugging her breasts and rounded hips that were more than a handful.

  And her scent.

  He inhaled deeply, clenching his hands as something inside of him twisted viciously and lunged. Her scent was intoxicating. But it was her eyes that had him gliding even closer—the deepest blue he had ever beheld. They swirled and darkened with dread and something akin to determination.

  Drac checked his thoughts and moved away from her, but not far. He did not mingle with females outside of his kingdom, and to have been engrossed with her was a perplexity he wondered if he should pursue. He dismissed the thought; outsiders only viewed his kind with revulsion, and the fact she could not defeat her attackers indicated a weakness he could never tolerate.

  Drac thought fleetingly of leaving them in the forest. The intruders were not a threat to his kingdom; it was impossible to survive in his obscure world if they thought to remain and venture further. Yet he did not leave.

  Against his own volition, he leaned in and breathed in her fragrance. Decadent. The beast in him—a creature of blood and rage, growled in pleasure at her scent. The anomaly of it froze him, and he ruthlessly suppressed the hot hunger flaring to life.

  “You have entered the Darkage without the expressed permission of the Ricarkri. You will be allowed to leave the way you entered immediately without repercussion. Do so now,” Drac commanded.

  ***

  Fear sliced through Saieke’s veins. She stumbled, and her breath wheezed at the dark drawl. Someone else was with them? Impossible. She flared her senses, seeking for any other chakra and found none. Yet the voice indicated that he stood near. What was even more unbeliev
able was that he offered them passage to leave. Other kingdoms would arrest and question if the sentry entrances were not used.

  Hope stirred in her breast. “I seek sanctuary within your forest. I am being pursued. My kingdom, Boreas, will recompense yours favorably and honorably.” Saieke made her voice firm and even, though she was anything but calm and collected.

  “Denied.” Came the voice silky with menace.

  “Please…I am the Princess of Boreas. For your aid, I will honor you with several jars of my kingdom’s elixir,” she countered.

  “We will depart,” one of the assassins interjected. “But the princess leaves with us. We are Grand Generals from the great empire of Mevia sent to retrieve her. If you interfere, you risk death. If you think to offer her sanctuary against our emperor’s order, both of you will die. Is that understood, Darkan?”

  The suddenness of their decision to kill her was so startling it rendered her speechless. They must have thought the Darkan would agree with her bargain, but why would Mevia murder her if they could not take her?

  A chuckle of amusement echoed from the dark before she was buffeted with feelings of such blood thirstiness she trembled. Without thinking, she expelled her energy to light up her surroundings to see where such a chakra came from.

  She stared at the Darkan mesmerized, fascinated, yet repulsed. She was within touching distance of the most primal male she’d ever seen. He was darkness and sensuality. Black chakra pulsated around him with menace. He stood less than ten feet away and observed her with an awareness that had her instincts screaming at her to run.

  Her heart pounded, drowning out sounds, and the hand that held her dagger shook. His macabre beauty scared her—obsidian eyes, a sensual mouth that hinted at cruelty, the palest of skin, a frame lithe yet coiled with power. The raw carnality he reeked of caused something hot and unwelcomed to squeeze low in her stomach, startling her.

  It had the sharper taste of desire she’d normally felt from others.

  She clenched her fist tightly around her dagger, trying to hold his penetrating gaze.

  “Kill them.” A harsh order from one of the Mevians.

  They rushed in deadly unison at them and screamed out a sound of destruction. Her world tilted as she was moved with a speed that left her dizzy.

  The Darkan had actually lifted and moved with her, and she stood behind the Mevians. Their sound wave splintered trees in its path and rendered them to chips. If she had been caught in the attack, the pressure from the waves would have caused her to explode into bloody pieces.

  The assassins spun, and she blinked. Decapitated heads slid from lifeless bodies. Fear cramped her stomach. She’d not seen the Darkan kill them. Saieke sucked in a harsh breath as he appeared before her. An explosion of dread snaked through her, leaving her heart quivering and mouth dry. The light stood about two hundred feet behind her, but she would not make it.

  There was no cocooning darkness swirling around him anymore. Saieke did not know how it was possible, but she could not sense him at all. It seemed he had absolute control of his chakra. Her heart jerked, and her breath became shallow. He had not responded to her offer. Instead, he killed the Mevians without hesitation. The blood drained from her face as he leaned in close to her, so their lips almost brushed.

  Cold chills of fear slithered through her as he calmly said, “Bargain accepted.”

  Chapter Three

  The Darkage—kingdom of darkness and shadows.

  He was a barbarian, unkind, and certainly not deferential to her as the Princess of Boreas. Each step, every uneven gait, every stumble took Saieke closer to the heart of the Darkage with a man who had killed two people with an apparent total lack of remorse. Cold bit at her, and her fractured ribs ached. Healing had already started, but she felt every bruise made by the assassins. Every time it occurred to Saieke to draw on her mantle of royal arrogance and demand a carriage, the memory of the Darkan’s chakra acted as an effective deterrent. She consoled herself by remembering that the dark ones were reviled by everyone.

  Exhaustion and hunger pelted her, and not once did he query as to how she fared. The barbarian simply ordered her to follow. Saieke thought fleetingly about using the elixir around her neck, then dismissed the idea. She only needed food and rest. The healing elixir should only be used for fatal wounds.

  She had not thought her bargain through, reacting with instinct. She knew the power of her kingdom’s healing elixir and had offered it like a lifeline. But how would she even get the elixir to him? She promised jars, and she had no way honoring her promise unless she returned to her kingdom. She flinched from the thought. Her plans could not be waylaid.

  Had her Queen’s Blades escaped? She sent a swift prayer to the King of All that Kamu and Thyon lived. In their plans, they had prepared for the possibility of separation, but it was still hard to accept.

  Icy wind whistled, the thinness of her caftan offered her no protection. She wrapped her arms around her shoulders. After a few minutes of trudging faithfully behind the Darkan, her chakra glow petered, and Saieke was plunged into absolute blackness. Doubt jerked her to a stop. Where in kings’ teeth was he?

  “I will go no more.” She made her voice firm. Saieke twitched as something brushed against her face.

  “You rescind your bargain?”

  His voice was so emotionless, Saieke shivered. “I do not, sir. You ordered me to follow. I do so without any knowledge if I travel to my death, imprisonment, or torture.”

  “You think us without honor? Did you not claim life for sanctuary?” he growled.

  She recoiled from the menace in the voice that whispered too close to her. “I meant no offense…I…” Fear tried to steal her thoughts. “Forgive me if I caused offense. I assure you it was unintentional. I am exhausted, hungry, and anxious about this situation. You have not shared any information as to where we travel,” she said with as much calm as she could muster.

  She regretted speaking. The silence pressed in on her, suffocating. She strained to see where he was. Saieke saw nothing. Worse, she heard nothing. The insufferable barbarian.

  “Say something, please,” she whispered hoarsely.

  ***

  Drac’s beast rumbled as another burst of fear leaped from the princess. He surmised it was the darkness. It could have that effect on the senses. He did not react as her hand caught his trousers and held on with a tight grip.

  It was imperative to alert Gidon of their bargain. When she uttered those words, something inside Drac had stilled. Their queen had died with hanging hopes that she would receive a swallow and it would heal her. And now, to be promised jars bordered on miraculous. It was a precious and valuable commodity the kingdom of Boreas possessed—the healing elixir. With it they had power, might, and a potent bargaining chip. It also made the kingdom susceptible to invasion in times of war.

  He had to capitalize on the opportunity her panicked offer presented. He did briefly wonder why she was being pursued by Mevia, and how it was that she was so far from home. He was not even sure if she was the Princess of Boreas, as he had never been to a court outside of his kingdom’s. They needed it established and an oath drawn.

  The only thing Drac was sure of was the immediacy with which she fascinated him. She was beautiful, but her scent intrigued him the most—wild wind with a hint of honey. He drank in her beauty, the arch of her neck as she strained to see him, and Drac felt the instinctive lunge again inside, and he tightened his gut against the rush of feeling.

  “Say something,” her gasp, husky with fear tugged at the beast buried in him.

  He shifted, and the princess stumbled into him and her breath hitched. It travelled through his body, a whisper in the dark, caressing against his skin like silk. He supposed he was not treating her like a princess. Gidon would roar in rage if she were to arrive in shambles. This was an opportunity to have a kingdom in their debt, an
d he would exploit it mercilessly to suit their needs.

  “It must be confirmed if you are the Princess of Boreas, and if you have authority to make such an honor bargain.”

  Her eyes widened, almost eclipsing her face. Drac tracked the tongue that darted out to wet her lips. His cock jerked in reaction, and he had to ruthlessly contain a snarl.

  “I am the princess.”

  Her voice shook with anxiety. There was nothing he could do about that, so Drac wasted no time offering soothing words. She slipped her hands into the hidden folds of her caftan and withdrew her armband. She held it up with a hand that trembled, before slipping it on to her right arm. It was a gold armband filled with precious gems and rubies with her insignia as the Princess. It signified her status and power, the intricate design showing she was the heir to the throne.

  Satisfaction settled in his gut. Possessing the elixir would give his people the opportunity to heal the crack in their psyche when their beasts took control. Gidon had always theorized how they could obtain one jar of the elixir. To now be promised several jars. A smile curved Drac’s lips at their fortune. It was long awaited. “I take you not to your death or torture, Princess, but to my king. If it is proven that you are the princess, you are safe.”

  He knew she could not see him in the dark, yet her eyes roamed his face as if she could. Her eyes were really the purest of blue—azure blended with sapphire, and the most enthralling he had ever seen. They narrowed and a hint of anger flavored her chakra.

  “And if your king determines I am not the princess?”

  He grunted, ignoring her question, then spun and kept walking.

  “And if your king determines I am not the princess?” her tone held imperious command.

  Drac smiled, pleased with the lessening of her fear. She stumbled again pressing into his back. He hissed at the feeling of her breasts. Her caftan contoured seamlessly to her body, and he could feel every sleek curve. Arousal stirred deep inside when she brushed against him again, and he could feel the outline of her nipples. He ruthlessly ignored her reaction and the whisper that slid against his mind.