The Legends of Regia Box Set: The Complete Series. Books 1-7

by Tenaya Jayne

  The sneering one grabbed her arm roughly. "Big words, little girl. Apparently you don't know who you're dealing with."

  Forest blinked at him then threw her head back laughing.

  "How dare y—"

  Forest grabbed the hand on her arm and pried his wimpy fingers loose easily. Locking her hands over his, she jumped into the air, tucked into a full flip, pulled him off his feet and broke his wrist. His scream echoed around the room.

  He crumpled to the floor, holding his hand and whimpering. The admiring one put his hands up in surrender and backed away. "Who are you?" he asked.

  "Forest," she said aggressively over her shoulder as she left the room.

  "Can you believe what she did?" the crying one on the floor asked his friend.

  He placed his hand over his heart, looking down at the other. "I think I'm in love."

  Forest kept her head down, looking at no one as she walked through the halls back to her room. Her curiosity over where Leith was being held and what he was enduring was diminished by her need to see Syrus. But the key hanging around her neck now felt like a lead weight.

  Syrus wasn't in their room. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, focusing on him. He was close by, somewhere in the castle. Did he know Leith was here? What could she possibly say to him? What exactly was her plan? How could she avoid hurting him?

  She looked down at her attire and decided to dress for bed. She dragged her feet to the closet. Her arms were heavy as she dug through the drawers, yawning deeply. Trimmed in lace and ribbons, nothing looked comfortable. How was anyone supposed to sleep in such things?

  Defeated by the selection, she pulled a silky white nightgown over her head and stalked to the bed.

  ****

  She hadn't meant to fall asleep. But the sky was completely dark outside the window when Forest opened her eyes. Her solitude now felt very empty and cold.

  Footsteps coming swiftly up the hall sounded through the door. She sat up as Syrus charged in, covered in sweat and a delighted beam on his face. That innocent smile slew her from across the room. She melted. "You're back!" Forest climbed out of the bed.

  He rushed toward her then stopped abruptly. "I'm all yucky."

  "I don't care."

  "No, no. Let me get clean...You smell like heaven. I'll be right back. Don’t move."

  She followed him to the bathroom and leaned on the doorframe. "What have you been doing?"

  Syrus chuckled as he pulled his drenched shirt over his head. "I've been sparring with Redge and a few well trained ogres. Man, I've missed fighting, being stuck in that accursed portal for months." His smile vanished abruptly as he turned the water on. "We need to talk…once I'm clean. It's important so don't fall asleep while I'm bathing."

  "All right," Forest said lamely as she closed the door.

  She paced the room, her thoughts jumbled, and her heart thumping erratically. Syrus came out a few minutes later wrapped in a silky black robe. Forest blew out a breath. Damn, he was gorgeous; it wasn't fair. Too bad he was all serious and wanted to talk.

  He enveloped her in his arms and she pressed her lips against his bare chest. He stroked her hair back from her face and kissed her temple. "You're distracting me, and I need to talk to you," he chuckled.

  "Go get dressed then or acquiesce to my hormones."

  He pulled away reluctantly and disappeared into the closet. Forest sighed and sat down on the bed. He came back out wearing loose trousers and a plain tunic and sat down on the bed next to her. "This life mate thing is a killer."

  His statement caught her off guard. "What?"

  He put his hand over his heart. "All day, I could feel your pain but didn’t know what caused it. Is it the same for you?"

  "Oh, yes. I can feel what you're feeling, but I can't hear your thoughts. Although, I'm not sure I felt anything from you today…I guess I was a little self-absorbed. Sorry. Was there something you wanted me to feel?"

  "No. I want to know what happened with your father."

  Forest shivered. "Oh, Syrus…I'm so tired… and it's so awful." She took a deep breath, seeing no way of escape. "He told me about when…when I was conceived." Tears swelled again as the words came pouring out of her.

  Syrus' face remained impassive, and she hated herself more with every word she spoke. Her spirit sank so low it seemed to fuse with the floor. She told him about the necklace and the title that was offered to her. She told him everything except that Rahaxeris had given Leith to her as a gift.

  When Forest stopped talking, waiting for Syrus to speak, all he did was cross his arms over his chest and frown a little. "Where did you run off to?" he asked.

  "To the Wood. To see Shi."

  "Ah. Yes, I should have thought of that. I was so worried."

  "I'm sorry. I should have stayed. I was overwhelmed." Forest's shoulders dropped downward, and she hung her head.

  "Is that all?"

  "Yes," she lied.

  "There's something else you need to know. Leith is in the castle, under arrest. I want to take you there so you can kill him. Rahaxeris said you are the only one who can open the door." He grabbed her hand. "Just think baby. Your freedom, here and now."

  "Not now. Not yet."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I…I'm too tired."

  Syrus stood up. "Forest, what the hell?"

  Sobs rose in her throat. "Don't yell at me! I can't take it right now."

  "Okay, so you're too tired. Maybe you've been through too much today to understand what I've just told you."

  "I understand. I just want to…to make a ritual of it when I kill him. Not when I'm exhausted and in my nightgown."

  Syrus' ire fizzled. He sighed. "All right. I can understand that."

  "Can we just forget about it right now?"

  "I'm incapable of forgetting it, but I'll shut up. For now."

  He climbed back into bed, snuggling up to her back. He kissed her neck. Something had changed within her now that he knew her origins. She didn't want him touching her, polluting himself with her disgusting flesh. She moved away from him.

  "What's wrong?"

  "I don't want to make love. I don't want you to touch me again until my slave mark is gone."

  He wrapped his arms around her, turning her to face him and brought her on top of him. "I'll hold my lust in check, but you can't ask me not to touch you. I need to feel you next to me. Your skin, your pulse. We've been apart for far too long. Asking me to stop breathing would be a more reasonable request."

  She laid her head on his chest, listening the steady rhythm of his heart. It was healthy and intact, while hers tore and crumbled around the edges.

  Forest fell asleep on Syrus' chest. He lay awake, slashed by the heartache she transferred to him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sleep did not come easily to Syrus. When he finally did nod off, his dreams were filled with bloody images of killing Leith with his bare hands. He woke before the dawn, Forest still sprawled across his chest, a cute little wheezy snore coming from her nose when she exhaled. He shifted her to the side and got up. He wanted to go and talk to his father, but he didn't want Forest to wake up alone.

  He dressed plainly for the day and ran his fingers through his cropped hair. It would take forever to grow back, he mused. He strapped on his belt with his flask that was running grievously low. He needed fresh human blood, but the portals were shut, and the ogres refused to open anything without Rahaxeris' say so. And it seemed that the elf had left the castle or was possibly ghosting around the place invisible.

  Syrus was more uneasy about the High Priest being Forest's father than he cared to admit. What she'd told him about her origins bothered him even more. Not just because the news had sent her into a tailspin but how she didn't see it as others would. The balance of power had not shifted, it had broken. And Syrus could see how the Rune-dy would quickly be accepted as the authority of Regia. Forest was the daughter of the strongest being in their world. If and when it
became public knowledge, she would be considered more royal than any other princess had ever been. They would see him as the grasping social climber trying to achieve her level rather than the other way around. He was a broken cripple from an overthrown monarchy, and she was engineered as a new and superior species.

  Syrus shook his head in wonder and blew out a breath. My, my, how things were changing. Maybe Forest only needed time to adjust. Maybe…but so far she wasn't coping.

  Syrus stood at the window, running his hands along the chiseled rocks of the frame. Strange. This was his home, but this wasn't the room of his childhood. The movements through the castle were foreign to him now. The sounds and people, different. Where did he fit? With Regia in transition, he could reinvent himself, if he wanted to. What did he want? He knew, deep down, but what about what others wanted from him: his father, the people, Redge…Forest?

  The smell of the coming sunrise invigorated Syrus. He toyed with the flask for a moment, deliberating. He could use his incantation to restore his sight partially but he really hated doing that because it was so disorienting. Blurry and fragmented. Blood was required for clarity. Desperately wanting to see the sunrise and the beauty of the day's first light caressing Forest's skin, Syrus decided to drink the last of his human blood. The pain tore through him like a broken blade, twisting, stabbing, rending, and burning until it pushed through his eyes and his pupils stretched open.

  He braced his hands on the window, panting and looked at the sunrise for one second before turning to gaze upon the only real sun in his world, Forest. He knelt next to the bed, much as he had the first time he'd looked at her. And just as it had the first time, again her beauty stole his breath. This pure, fierce, fragile beauty, her true face, his sole possession, that no one else could see.

  Syrus gently smoothed a strand of hair from her face. "You don't know, do you?" he whispered, "Just how special you are. Or what I would do for you. How you torment me. Tempt me. Make me burn."

  As he had done the first time, Syrus lifted a handful of her long curly hair and brought it to his lips. "I love you…with all that I am or ever hope to be." He couldn't wait any longer. His vision would fade all too quickly, and he had to look into her eyes. He hovered over her, his lips a breath from hers. "Forever," he breathed and pressed his lips against hers, waking her with a kiss.

  The world of her eyes opened to him and shot through his core. Eye contact, so rare for the two of them, sent a jolt to both of their hearts. Nothing existed, just them. All worries forgotten as they sank into each other, the barriers were torn slowly, so slowly away.

  ****

  Never had Forest experienced anything to rival the slow love they made that morning. Intensity without end and no inclination to hurry. Syrus said nothing to her with words, only his eyes. Her spirit rose through her skin as he worshiped her, yes worship was what it was. And after he took her there, to the edge of what was physically possible, he pushed her even higher and threw her into oblivion where she knew nothing but the depth of his love for her.

  She rested her forehead against his, watching his eyes slowly begin to close. No. Keep looking at me, Syrus. The last moment sped by too quickly as his pupils dissolved into the pearl gray of his irises. And as his vision faded so did the warm wonderment of her afterglow.

  Forest pulled away from him and into herself, feeling as through mud spread through her body just under her skin. She pulled the cover up over herself, not wanting to see her own flesh. "I told you I didn't want to make love until I was free of my slave mark."

  Syrus chuckled, not taking her seriously. "Well, there's that saying about actions speaking louder than words…" he sobered. "I forgot. It seems you did too. I won't apologize, Forest, not for something so beautiful."

  "Beautiful?" she spat getting out of bed and wrapping herself in a robe, only to sink onto the floor the next moment, weeping. "I ruin everything."

  Syrus came to her and clasped her shoulders bracingly. "Stop it!" he ordered.

  "I ruin everything," she repeated, "because I am ruin. Dross, worthless…I shouldn't even exist. I don't deserve your love."

  Syrus lifted her chin, anger pulling through the muscles of his face. "I know I can't stop you from feeling something, but don't you ever say that to me again."

  Forest jerked her face out of his grasp. "Don't touch me. I'm another man's slave."

  Syrus grabbed her by the shoulders again. "Dammit, Forest!" he shouted. "Where the hell is this coming from? You're no man's slave, especially not that piece of shit's downstairs! That scar means nothing. It's just the illegitimate claim of a bastard, unworthy to kiss your feet."

  She broke down crying.

  "Let's get dressed and go take care of this once and for all."

  "Huh?" she asked.

  "Come on." He stood, offering her his hand. "Leith is waiting. We can do it together. Let's free you."

  Forest didn't move to take his hand. "I want to kill him alone. I need to do it that way."

  "Fine," he said testily, striding to the closet. "Do it by yourself. Just hurry up. I can't stand to be under the same roof as him much longer."

  A sudden loud knock on the door jolted her to her feet. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and belted her robe. "Who is it?"

  "Zeren," the king bellowed jovially.

  "One moment." She looked at the closet door and Syrus came out fully clothed.

  He strode to the door and opened it.

  "Good morning!" Zeren exclaimed clapping Syrus on the shoulder. His happy expression faltered as his eyes fell on Forest. "Is everything all right? I could come back later."

  "Everything's fine," Forest said quickly, forcing a smile.

  "Good! Good." Zeren turned his attention solely to Syrus. "It's going to be a busy day. The officers are back, and there's going to be a war council in about an hour. I need you there, son. Much will be discussed. Important things. Visitors will be joining us, Fortress' high council, and the Rune-dy."

  "But Father," Syrus protested. "I haven't even decided if I'm ready for the world to know I'm alive. I mean the high council knows but the officers don't."

  Zeren waved away Syrus' concern loftily. "You have to come back to life some time. What better time than today?"

  Syrus turned his face to Forest. "What do you think?"

  "It's your choice," she said flippantly.

  Syrus heard more than her words and almost smiled. Pissed off was way better than sad and crying. "Forest and I need to decide this together. Would you give us some privacy?"

  "Of course." Zeren looked back at Forest. "Today will be busy for you too, my dear. We're going to have a state dinner tonight. All the highest-ranking vampires will be there. They're all anxious to meet my special guest." He winked at her conspiratorially. "Be sure to wear your best. They are unfortunately, a rather superficial bunch."

  "But…" Forest panicked.

  "Don't worry. If you need help getting ready, just send for a few handmaidens. Now that the queen is gone, they have nothing to do. I'm sure they'd be overjoyed to do your hair and make-up."

  Forest's hands clenched into fists as Zeren left the room. Syrus laughed after he shut the door behind his father.

  "What are you laughing at?" She demanded.

  "I'm just picturing you being primped by a gaggle of my mother's old courtiers."

  Forest gritted her teeth. "Hair and make-up, my ass."

  Syrus pulled her into a tight hug. "Now you sound like the woman I fell in love with."

  "Are you going to that meeting?"

  "Do you think I should?"

  "Well, one of us needs to know what is going on. But you don't have to go as yourself, you know?"

  "You mean I should go in disguise?" he asked.

  "Yeah. It might give you an edge, apart from holding off on letting the world know you're alive. Trust me. I know what it's like to glean information from people who don't know who they're talking to."

  "You don't want people to know I'm al
ive?"

  "I want it, if you want it. But once you let them know, you can't take it back."

  Syrus looked thoughtful. "Hmm. True…I think I will wait a little longer."

  "So you'll go to the meeting incognito?" she pushed.

  "I guess so."

  "Good. I really want to know what is going on."

  "I'll tell you everything." He kissed her forehead. "I'm going to tell Redge the plan. I'll see you later."

  "Okay," she said dejectedly to his retreating back. Then she was alone. The mock princess left waiting in her tower.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Forest paced down the center of the closet with a grimace on her face, the fabric of the hanging dresses brushing her shoulders. She didn't want to play dress up. She didn't want to play princess. She wanted to run away. Only her crushing resolve not to embarrass Syrus kept her from slashing the contents of the closet to ribbons. Fine, fine, FINE! If she had to dress up at least she'd force herself to find a dress she could stand to be seen in. She pushed down her ire and began really looking at her new clothes.

  She designated a place on the rack to put dresses she knew she would never wear. Every article of clothing with any shade of pink went onto that rack, along with the overly sparkly, puffy sleeved, and anything with bows. Once she was done weeding, she found a few garments she could picture herself in, and three in particular she could almost get excited about: a liquid black dress that ran over her body like water, a green gown that matched her eyes and created the effect of a dragonfly, and lastly a red that blazed and danced like fire in the light. She decided to wear the red to the party and set her hair color to match. If she had to play the part, at least she could be intimidating in the role.

  Forest stopped moving and stood stone still, an empty hanger clutched in her hands. Role, playing a role; that's what she'd been thinking. She clenched her teeth as her temper flashed. She was thinking about the whole thing all wrong, as if she was still a Fortress Operative and everything in front of her was simply an assignment to get through. She looked down at the hanger in her hands and snapped it. This was her life. If she chose wrong or if she failed, something far greater than a demotion was at stake. Her heart, soul, livelihood, reputation, and happiness shimmered in the distance. However, before she could grasp her desires, she must vault the hurdles at her feet.