by C. A. Worley
She braced for impact, thinking her body was about to be broken. It never came. Sounds of limbs and leaves echoed, but she felt nothing. When she opened her eyes, she scented the air and growled.
Growled? Evelyn didn’t growl.
Brennen came crashing through the foliage. She could scent him before she saw him. Decades’ old rage and disgust surfaced. This was how they’d finally war? In a dream?
The whirlwind of foreign thoughts felt intrusive. Before she could think on her reaction, she was being tackled to the ground.
Her body fought back. Scratched. Punched. Kicked. She wasn’t controlling the movements, nor could she feel the impact of his strikes.
“You’ve gone too far, Uncle!” a voice roared so closely she could feel the vibration of it from within.
“No, I haven’t gone far enough! You’ll never be King, Marrok. Over my dead body will you take this throne from me.”
“I didn’t want the bloody throne, Brennen. Now you’ve left me no choice,” the deep voice threatened as she charged towards the vindictive demon.
When her fist landed a blow hard enough to stun Brennen, she clamped both hands around his throat. Only, those weren’t her hands.
Evelyn couldn’t control her eye movement, so she concentrated on what she could see. Long, strong arms. Tanned skin. Definitely male.
Brennen groped blindly at anything. He managed to get ahold of her necklace and rip it away.
No! a voice echoed in her head.
The hesitation allowed Brennen to gain purchase. Roaring, he threw her through the air. Evelyn crashed into something and dropped to the ground.
Rising to her feet, she noticed a youngling standing beyond the barrier she’d just slammed into. Dark red hair. Bronzed skin. Mismatched eyes. It was like looking into a mirror—fourteen years ago.
Saatus the voice whispered in her head.
Marrok’s voice. She was reliving Marrok’s fight with his uncle, from inside his body.
Evelyn held the stare of her younger self for a moment. Ah, Goddess no. Marrok’s thoughts jeered, laced with frustration instead of worry.
Before she could think on his dismay, young Evelyn shouted, “Look out!” The large body she was inhabiting spun around in time to see Brennen’s twisted magic coming towards her.
She dove sideways, narrowly escaping the wisps of smoke-like power. The perverse magic screamed when it pounded against Evelyn’s shield.
“You’ll never get to her,” Marrok promised. Evelyn could feel his wrath building. There would be no mercy for Uncle Brennen.
“Then neither shall you.”
Brennen jumped into view, his black magic swirling and sullying the air with its stench. She turned, commanding the girl to run. Then faced the foul demon coming closer.
This is where it ends, Marrok’s thought vowed, circling the King of Sundari. He was going to have to kill Brennen.
Yes, then we’ll take our mate, a second voice invaded her skull.
No. We’ll never take the witch.
Evelyn flinched internally. Calling an elemental a witch was a grave insult. Was that the true reason he hadn’t come for her, because she was born an elemental?
The demon within screamed as Marrok flew towards his enemy, landing a punch powerful enough to puncture his chest. The last thing she saw before she awoke was Brennen’s heart, still beating in her hand.
* * *
Marrok stepped out of the bath, toweling himself quickly and efficiently. He needed to dress and go find Favin.
After his bellowing in the middle of the night, awaking to his shaft in hand, his guards burst through the door. They’d thought he’d been under attack.
Lazlo and Danil were right to enter if they suspected he was in peril, but he wasn’t fond of them catching him in a private moment. He snapped something about allowing a male his privacy and sent them back into the hall.
Danil was the only one who hesitated. He looked right at Marrok, assessing. “Carry on, then,” he’d finally said with a chuckle, knowing exactly what his king had been doing. Marrok’s snarl didn’t appear to affect the guard in the least.
Marrok didn’t go back to sleep. He couldn’t. His mind wouldn’t shut off long enough to relax. It was too preoccupied with the implications of what he could do when he dreamwalked. More specifically, what he could do with Evelyn.
It had felt so real. Despite the dampening of the mating effects as a result of being in the dreamworld, it had been one of the most invigorating encounters of his long life.
Such was the way with true mates. He’d heard of it. He hadn’t experienced it, hadn’t truly believed it could be so overpowering.
Marrok had known love. Had known what it was to both give and receive romantic love. He had that with Melena, before she’d selfishly taken it away. He’d always believed nothing could have come close to the desire he felt for his wife. He’d presumed it was their love that powered that desire.
Last night proved him wrong. He didn’t know Evelyn well enough to love her in the way he’d loved Melena, but he could not deny the craving he felt for his mate. Physically, nothing would ever compare. He hadn’t been inside her and yet he still knew the truth of it.
After Melena’s death, he’d vowed to never love again. He’d chosen to guard his heart against the risk of another heartbreak. Severe distress made the Sundari more susceptible to turning rogue. It wasn’t worth it.
With his strong demon sex drive, he eventually found his way back to coupling. He enjoyed many females and enjoyed them often. He couldn’t recount a single encounter that came close to the pleasure he’d borne with Evelyn quivering in his embrace.
Phantom traces of her heat still warmed his fingers. Her scent still tickled his nostrils. There was magic in his memory, enough where his body swore she could have been only inches away. Though wary at first, he liked the connection to another.
On top of everything, he wanted to feel the calming influence only a saatus could provide. He wanted to feel it often, just as he wanted to take and give pleasure. Marrok might not be ready to completely share his heart, but he was more than willing to share his body.
He reluctantly admitted he was also drawn to her humor and brash personality, not just her physical form. He’d never met anyone like her. Marrok couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed as he did during their encounters.
He’d taken a gamble exchanging blood with her. There was no way to know if it would help either of them get back to the same place at the same time.
Often times, bonded mates could gandeste to one another. It was how they dealt with any amount of time apart. Though, these mates would have bonded while awake, not in the dreamworld. He had no real way of knowing the effect of their exchange until he tried. He’d figure it out whenever he next slept.
His eyes darted to the tiny ball of fabric still lying on his bed. He’d taken the lace from her last night and awoken with it in his hand.
Yes, dreamwalking was tricky business, indeed. He didn’t understand the magic behind it, but he assuredly understood the implications.
Pulling on his boots, he wrestled with how much to reveal to Favin. The male was his Second and Marrok trusted him with not only his own life, but with the life of his mate. He would listen to his comrade’s counsel.
* * *
“Repeat that.”
Favin didn’t bother with formal address. He typically only called the King ‘Sire’ when others might overhear.
“I woke up with that in my hand.” Marrok nodded to the white lace lying on his desk. He was sorely tempted to hide it away from Favin’s eyes, but he felt obligated to present irrefutable proof.
The pair were sitting in his study. He’d just confessed to his Second, revealing the series of dreams he’d had and his discovery of his saatus in those dreams.
Marrok started from the beginning, from the night he’d killed Brennen, and ended with how he awoke just hours ago, having somehow brought the material back w
ith him.
He left out the part where his hand had also been holding the fabric around his engorged member. Favin could surely pick up the scents of both Marrok and Evelyn. Close as he was to Favin, Marrok would never discuss intimacies between he and his saatus.
Favin and the other men already knew he had dreamwalked to Brennen all those years ago and it was in the dreamworld he’d taken his uncle’s life. Marrok had kept quiet about Evelyn, preferring, at the time, not to deal with the fallout from his warriors knowing he had no intention of claiming his mate.
Now, with his decision to keep Evelyn, he’d have to explain how he came about the knowledge he had a saatus living in the Kingdom of Gwydion—the king’s daughter, no less.
Favin’s shields were up, his face blank. He was good at hiding his emotions, maybe even better than Marrok. His Second only employed these mechanisms when he was truly upset with Marrok.
“You’ve known, all this time, that not only you had a saatus, but exactly where she was?”
“Yes.”
“And you did nothing about it?”
“She was a child the night we met.”
“That was almost fifteen years ago, Marrok. It’s been long enough. You know better than to deny the wishes of the Goddess. What if our troubles were because of your refusal to claim your mate?”
“I do not believe I caused anything. The rogue problem began long before the night I killed Brennen.”
“That may be, yet it hasn’t gone away. In fact, it’s gotten worse.”
“Which is exactly why I kept my distance.”
“You deny Fate thinking there would be no consequence for it? Damnit, Marrok.”
“I avoided her because it is not safe for her in the Southland. She’s twenty years old, Favin. Barely an adult. Do you think she could protect her mind from the strength of a rogue? Even if I’d planned to retrieve her, where would I take her? Do you think I would ever put her life in jeopardy? Do you think it would be fair to lock her away for her own safety? Trust me, I did not make this decision lightly. I knew denying the bond would take a toll. I just didn’t see any other way.”
Favin nodded at the undergarment. “Judging from the scent of things, I’m guessing something—or somebody—changed your mind.”
Marrok growled, snatching the lace and burying it deep in his pocket. He pointed a finger in his Second’s face. “You’ll not speak of her scent, Favin. Not ever again.”
Favin could feel his friend’s unstable power dancing across the space between them. It wasn’t because he was succumbing to madness. No, Favin had provoked the King’s jealousy. He smirked.
“As you wish, my lord.”
Marrok’s posture relaxed. “My reasons are my own. What matters now is that I’ve found her and I’ve come to terms with the fact I need to keep her. I want to keep her.”
Evelyn was the key to maintaining his sanity. He’d made peace with his reality, accepting his attraction to both her body and mind as ways to stave off the aloneness in his life.
“I’m happy for you.”
“Don’t, Favin. I don’t know how to make this work where she doesn’t end up harmed in some way. I only showed you her … the garment because I needed you to know I was being truthful about finding her and about being able to pull something tangible through the dreamworld.”
“I would have believed you. When have I ever not taken your word?”
Marrok’s gaze dropped to the desk. “I didn’t want you think I was losing my mind. All demons know our bodies can be vulnerable during a dreamwalk. I’ve never heard of anyone taking something and waking up with it.”
Favin shrugged. “Being that only a handful of demons are powerful enough to dreamwalk to anyone other than their mate, and, thus, powerful enough to, say, remove a heart while doing so? I don’t think coming away with a small token from a dream is entirely outside of the realm of possibilities. Besides, she’s an elemental. It could have something to do with her powers, as well.”
“Perhaps.”
“The bigger question is, what else might you find in your bed the next time you wake?”
Marrok’s abdominals tightened, picturing himself awakening with Evelyn in his arms. Whether it was out of excitement or dread, he wasn’t sure.
“I don’t want her arrival to the fortress to be accidental. I’ll want every precaution in place for her safety. Even then …” Marrok trailed off, wrestling with his decision.
“She is young still. There is time. Let us secure the Southland and then we will welcome your mate.”
“Favin, we’ve been trying to secure Sundari for decades.”
“Yes, but that was before you found your mate. Not only will you be stronger because of it, your spirit should be settled. Logical. Also, what better motivation could you possibly have?”
Marrok recalled the elation he’d felt last night. Touching Evelyn, feeling her shudder against him as he’d held her close and stroked between her thighs. He’d felt truly linked to someone for the first time in a long time. He didn’t want to give that up.
Favin was right. Selfishly, there was no better motivation to bring peace to his land.
“I would advise sharing the fact you’ve found your saatus with your people.”
“No. I’ll not risk Evelyn becoming a target or even an accidental casualty.”
Favin sighed. “Fair enough. If not the kingdom at large, then at least tell your men.”
“Why?”
“Do you not think they yearn for the same?”
Favin’s question gave Marrok pause. He had not yearned to meet his saatus. He’d been too caught up in his grief after losing his wife, then in dealing with Brennen and the rogues.
Thoughtlessly, he hadn’t considered his soldier’s desires. He’d callously believed their combined focus to end their troubles to be their only focus, that the mating bond would come second to their duties, that it was something to think about in the future. He pondered if he would have felt the same had his wife not ripped his heart out of his chest.
“I’ve been remiss in my duties to my men, it seems.”
“I wouldn’t go that far, Marrok. There’s a reason we all follow you.”
Favin’s words touched a dark place inside Marrok. Sometimes he wondered what he’d done to deserve such loyalty. He cleared his throat and continued his assertion he’d let them down.
“Still, I hadn’t given much thought to anyone in the ranks actively seeking their mate, not with the way things are. I’ll tell them soon. I’ll need their cooperation anyway if I’m able to bring Evelyn here.”
Favin dropped his shields, his pleasure obvious. “It will be a gift to them.”
“A gift?” Marrok mused. “Of what?”
“Hope.”
Chapter 8
Marrok returned to his chambers earlier than normal. He was tired and looking forward to testing his connection to his saatus. He took his time undressing and reminiscing over the day’s revelations.
He and Favin had spent the morning and afternoon talking out new plans to deal with the rogues. What they’d been doing obviously wasn’t working.
Most of the rogues were still contained on the peninsula. The last twenty or so who popped up elsewhere, or escaped from the containment area, were destroyed. It wasn’t Marrok’s preference, but some were too dangerous to simply put back into confinement.
Exterminating the entire population of rogues was out of the question. They were his people, many of whom he’d known for years. For the bulk of them, their affliction was an illness.
Sadly, there were some who slipped into madness out of their hunger for power. If he could read into their minds any memories of committing detestable acts against others to increase power, those he put down without question. They were corrupt prior to going mad.
Favin helped Marrok see they’d been merely performing triage by rounding up rogues and sending them to the colony they’d built on the peninsula. They weren’t addressing the diseas
e.
No one could uncorrupt a demon with the proclivity to perform nefarious deeds. But there was one thing they knew did lessen the likelihood of going mad—finding a mate. They needed their people to find their mates.
How to make that happen was another matter. When he’d left his study, however, Marrok felt lighter. Maybe there was a reason for him to hope after all. They didn’t have a foolproof answer, but they had a place to start.
Before removing his trousers, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the small white bundle he’d left there the entire day. Marrok tossed it on the bed and finished undressing.
He extinguished the lamp and slid under the covers. Reaching across, he pulled the lace closer so he could better smell Evelyn’s sweet fragrance. The heady scent had him hard as granite.
Controlling his desire to take her would be a challenge. He had already decided to try to take things slow with her. His demon wasn’t happy about it and made the weak argument the dreamworld wasn’t real, so making love to her would have no consequences.
To Marrok, being in the dreamworld was irrelevant. It would feel real and he should be mindful of her inexperience, no matter how responsive she was. She deserved to be courted, as was the custom in Gwydion. This much he could try to give her.
He closed his eyes and waited for his mate.
* * *
Marrok came out from the foliage, his eyes landing on the beautiful creature just beyond the edge of the trees. Flickers of anticipation danced under his skin. Evelyn lifted her arms and the magical barrier parted enough for him to enter the clearing.
As he stepped through, he could feel small sparks of power, different than he’d felt here before. The coloring of the night’s moon was off, as well, similar to when he’d entered the dream in a rage, furious she’d waited two years.
This wasn’t anywhere near as severe, but he could tell something was amiss. Marrok offered a gentle smile, one his mate did not return. Sensing she wasn’t quite as happy to see him as he assumed she would be, he halted two steps in front of her. His arms remained at his sides despite his urge to reach out.