by C. A. Worley
Marrok couldn’t allow her to be taken from him, even temporarily. They’d waited long enough and he’d no longer deny his need to have her close and protect her himself.
“I’ll come for you now,” Marrok insisted.
“I won’t be here by the time you arrive. That’s not what’s important right now, anyway. I need you to take my dream from last night. I haven’t told anyone about it, but I think I’m going to have to say something to Father in light of what’s happened to Nora.”
She reached for Marrok’s hands and lifted them to each side of her face. “Hurry.”
The panic in Evelyn’s voice spurred Marrok to comply. He concentrated until he had Evelyn’s dream in his mind’s eye.
Melena was staring at herself in front of a full-length mirror, the one in her quarters. She brushed her hair methodically, counting in her head. One hundred strokes, as she did every night before bed.
Pulling her long mane over her right shoulder, she braided it and tied it off with a white ribbon edged with gold. His stomach rolled. He remembered that ribbon. Covered in red.
Nimble fingers unbuttoned the top of her yellow dress, stopping just below her breasts. She pulled the loose fabric apart, exposing her chest. Ample cleavage heaved with her quickened breath. She unclasped her necklace, the one Marrok had worn after her death, and hung it on the post of the mirror.
He could feel hints of fear overshadowed by her resolve. Trembling fingers reached for a knife on the table to the right. When she stood erect once more, her focus zeroed in on the reflection of dark swirling script written across the skin above her heart.
Marrok inhaled sharply. Melena didn’t have any markings on her skin. Anywhere. He knew every inch of her and he’d never seen this tattoo.
He watched in horror as she squared her shoulders and slashed the sharp blade across the offensive letters. Over and over until nothing but ribbons of mutilated flesh, oozing with blood, remained.
She’d gritted her teeth, but made no sound. He felt her perverse satisfaction at defiling the design.
Melena wiped off the knife on the fabric of her dress, cleaning both sides before dropping it back onto the table. She took two irregular breaths, then pulled something from her pocket.
Holding it up, Marrok could see it was the vial she’d taken from Bogdan. Melena uncorked it and held it up to her reflection, as though she was toasting it. “See you in Hell,” she whispered.
She emptied the contents into her mouth, holding her lips tight to force the revolting concoction down. She stumbled to the large fireplace and threw the cork and glass into the flames. She sank to her knees, waiting for the dark magic to work.
Marrok’s mouth went dry. He felt like the world was dropping out from under him. The vision dissolved and he released Evelyn as though she was made of fire.
“Marrok?”
He held up a hand, recalling the black swirls marring his wife’s chest. There was no mistaking the words. Sephtis Kenelm. Of course, Caleb had been a part of its plotting and evil deeds. His membership in the brotherhood made sense. It went hand in hand with his contemptible personality.
Melena would never have offered herself up to such a cause willingly. He would not believe it.
The group came be long ago, possibly a millennium or more, to stop warring factions. To ensure the fair and just rule of each race, to balance the power of Imperium so no one group would rule the other. It’s entire purpose was to keep one faction off of the throne of others, caring little for those who suffered for it.
If Marrok was to believe what he just saw, his wife had all but guaranteed he would find his saatus. So long as Melena was alive, he would never have looked for his mate.
His wife knew his saatus was not a she-demon. Melena’s death put Evelyn in danger because the brotherhood would never allow an elemental to rule the Sundari demons.
We’ll be forced to act, Bogdan had said. Melena insisted they wouldn’t need to. She didn’t know Marrok was going to kill Brennen and take the throne. He’d never confided in her, choosing to keep her away from the ugliness of his secret plans.
The conversation now made sense, but Melena was not a she-demon who would be part of a group willing to murder for the sake of their own twisted views of fairness. She wasn’t like Caleb. She wouldn’t have taken his place in the group when he died, earning the mark. It wasn’t something she could hide.
It’s possible, the demon spirit murmured. She died the day after Caleb. She wouldn’t have had it on her body for long. No, Marrok’s inner voice denied. Melena would never agree to participate in such treachery. He couldn’t reconcile it with his knowledge of who she was as a person.
He stared at his mate. “That wasn’t real. I do not believe it.”
“It’s what I dreamt, Marrok. Everything else has been a memory, most of them yours. You’ve seen them. You know I experience your past.”
“Yes, I can validate the parts that involved me. These parts with Melena, where I am not around, I think your imagination has made them up.”
Evelyn recoiled as if she’d been slapped. “You think I’ve made them up? To what purpose?”
“You tell me,” he snapped before he could stop himself.
He immediately regretted his tone. What was wrong with him? He knew Evelyn would not act with malice towards him. She gained nothing from planting false dreams in her head for him.
They are not false. Trust our mate, his demon spirit hissed.
Marrok scrubbed his face with his palms, trying to get his bearings. He was feeling dizzy, spinning out of control. His demon was trying to surface, to take over. It took most of his energy to maintain his hold over it.
Nothing made sense. He needed to think straight, just for a moment, then he could sort this out.
“I would never lie to you Marrok. You can hear any falsehood I could come up with. The truth never dies, remember?”
He closed his eyes. He knew she was right.
“When you found her, after she died, was she in a yellow dress? In front of the fire?” Evelyn pressed.
“Yes.” It had been saturated with her lifeblood. The poison had flooded her heart with its dark magic to the point the worthless organ had exploded right out of her chest.
“How could I possibly know that?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m not trying to hurt you, Marrok. I’m trying to show you everything I have seen. I think they’re warnings. There were other dreams this week. I think I finally learned why she was so often moving her lips without sound and why you have no recollection of it. She spelled you somehow.”
“Evelyn,” he warned.
“I’ll be awoken any second. You need to pull the other dreams. She was a Seer. Did you know she could also manipulate minds with her power?”
“All demons can manipulate minds.”
“It wasn’t the same, at least from what I saw in the dream. She spelled you—or something of the sort. She did it to others, as well. Think about it, Marrok, you have one of the strongest minds of any Sundari, and yet you can’t remember a single instance of seeing her do something so odd.”
“Evelyn, stop.”
“I don’t know her motivations,” she continued. “I do think she loved you, so whatever her plan was I doubt it was to harm you. She was desperate. Couldn’t you feel it? I know you saw what she cut from her skin. You can’t tell me it’s mere happenstance she bore the mark of the group that poisoned my mother. That infected Kellan’s father with sleeping sickness. And now Nora’s been poisoned. I’m being given these memories as some sort of message. A warning. Something!” she wailed, her voice escalating higher with each word.
“I said, stop!” he shouted. “Just, give me a moment to think.”
Evelyn gripped his hands, imploring. “Pull the memories, Marrok, I think someone’s waking me.”
“You want me to believe that my wife manipulated my mind? No, I don’t think I want to pull that from your head.”
“Marrok, please—”
She disappeared. Marrok tried to wake himself and couldn’t. He paced angrily. An hour ago all was right in his world. Now it was all turning to shite.
He needed to get out of the dreamworld. Evelyn was being pulled from her bed to ride off to Goddess-knew-where. Edward would send them into hiding and Marrok wouldn’t know where she was.
He conjured a blade and sliced it down his forearm. He’d cut it deeply in his haste. It’s just as well. I deserve to feel the pain.
He did it again, breathing through the burn. He could feel himself coming back into his own body. He jumped out of bed, yelling for Lazlo.
The door flung open and Lazlo’s hulking figure stood in the doorway. “Sire?”
“Fetch Favin. Ready the horses. We leave for Gwydion immediately.”
Laszlo spun, turning into Favin who was running towards the King’s chambers. Jumping to the right and avoiding the near collision, Favin moved speedily into the room.
“Sire,” he greeted Marrok.
“Favin. It’s time to retrieve my mate.”
“We have a problem …” he scowled, seeing that Marrok was wrapping his arm. “Why are you bleeding?”
“It’s nothing. What problem?”
“The gate to the colony. Someone’s blown it.”
“Bloody hell!” he growled in frustration. “They had to do it this night? Of course they did. It’s like the damned universe has conspired to make any sort of victory impossible.”
He’d just found out his deceased wife might have been part of some immoral brotherhood of assassins, which he’d basically accused his mate of lying about despite the fact he could hear a lie if she spoke one, or, in this case, dreamed one.
An attempt had been made on Nora’s life, an elemental currently sitting on the throne of Burghard. Evelyn might also be in danger and was now being moved to an unknown location where he could not protect her.
To top it all off, his mind chose now, in the midst of his fit of rage, to logically sift through Evelyn’s dreams. Fate would only show her things of importance. The last few, and the timing of them, were probably the most important.
Melena must have promised Bogdan her place in Sephtis Kenelm, which meant the group did not die out under Kellan’s sword. It also meant, if he claimed her, Evelyn would be a target. Fate had sent a warning. Many of them.
Marrok picked up the closest thing to him and threw it against the wall. Then he did it again. This time, it was a vase. It shattered easily, its blue and white pieces clinking against the stone floor.
Melena’s vase. One of the few things of hers he’d kept in his room. He grabbed two fistfuls of hair and roared at the ceiling.
“Are you done?” a rumbling brogue called from the doorway.
“Danil, I swear if you come in this room with your usual drivel I’ll rip every single one of your white hairs from your giant head,” Marrok threatened.
“Ah, I knew you were jealous of it. The hair, that is, not the large skull.”
Favin stepped closer to the doorway, worrying he might need to shut Danil’s mouth for him. They’d never seen Marrok in such a state, aside from the night he’d found Melena’s body. Danil knew better than to poke.
“Sire, are you unwell?” Favin dared.
“Bullocks to this,” Danil pushed his way in. “He’s fine. He’s had a night. He’s let it out. It’s over.”
Marrok’s gaze sharpened. “How do you know what sort of night I’ve had?”
“I pulled your memories while you were carrying on like a she-demon in labor. And before you get your panties too tied up, I did it to make sure you weren’t hit with a fit of actual madness. Congratulations, you get to keep your head. You’re welcome.”
Danil lifted Favin’s hands and cuffed his own ears with them. “Take the memory from me and get caught up, already.”
Favin looked to Marrok who nodded. A minute later Danil dropped Favin’s arms.
“Well,” Danil clapped his hands, “now we’re in the know, let’s get to work. The only question is, are you hunting rogues or are you hunting your mate?”
Marrok’s claws flexed, knowing what he should do was not what he wanted to do. “We ride to the peninsula. Edward will get Evelyn to someplace safe. I’ll help round up rogues while the gate is repaired. Favin, make sure we have enough men to deal with both.”
“Yes, Sire.”
“Wait, before you go. Have you found Bogdan?”
“No. Word came he’s been away for business.”
“Where?”
“Gwydion. Then on to Burghard.”
Favin’s eyes widened. “Sire—”
“No. Edward is more than capable of protecting his daughters. Go.”
Favin bowed and exited. Marrok had spoken with such insistence, he almost believed his King’s words.
Chapter 21
Two weeks later …
“Are you sure you won’t come with us?” Eden asked Evelyn, hugging the side of the giant vampire towering over her. Nora and Kellan had already departed and Eden was hesitant to leave.
“I’m sure,” Evelyn responded dreamily, having trouble looking away from the pretty male. He really was such a perfect specimen of beauty, like a seven-foot-tall marble statue carved by a master artist.
Eden, just like her sisters, had mismatched eyes. One was the distinct forest green of the elemental people. The other was a beautiful bright emerald, the exact same shade as Viktor’s, the King of Prajna. Of course this masterpiece of a male had beautiful irises. Nothing less could adorn a face of art.
She silently sighed. Evelyn wanted to go with them to Prajna, to be close to Eden, but Theron had warned her she needed to stay. Much was happening very quickly and he insisted the temple was the safest place for her.
Oh, how fast things were happening! The Vampire King, Viktor, had come to the temple shortly after they’d arrived. One look at Eden and he knew she was his sieva—his vampire mate.
Watching them together now, Evelyn doubted he’d ever looked away from Eden for a moment since. It was terribly romantic.
“Okay,” Eden’s motherly voice broke through. “You know how to call for us if you need us.”
“Yes, Hale will deliver my messages.”
Theron had asked Viktor to station a vampire here. Because they could teleport, they could send word to the Eastland quickly. Viktor agreed and immediately assigned Hale to this post. He was a beefy, silent creature and she’d yet to crack his shield with her antics.
Eden hugged Evelyn and kissed each of her cheeks. “Be safe, Evie.”
“You do the same, sister.”
Viktor looked down at Evelyn. “Hale can get you out of here in a heartbeat, little one, should you need it. I’ll be sending another guard to check in daily, just in case.”
“I can’t hear you all the way up there.”
Eden laughed and one of Viktor’s lips lifted. It was more like a grimace but maybe that was how he smiled. He didn’t look like he really knew how to flash a grin, anyway.
“Behave while we’re gone,” he rumbled and patted her on the head.
“I’m not a puppy.”
He chuckled. “No, you’re worse. I think you might actually have the teeth to break skin.”
“I’d never bite my new brother.”
He’d almost tripped over his own two feet when she’d called him brother at his arrival today. He was mated to Eden, so of course he was family—he simply didn’t seem to realize it until she’d claimed him as such.
Viktor laughed again. “Very well, little … sister.”
The last word came out a little forced, but Evelyn liked it. After the fiasco with Marrok and the happenings since the solstice, it was nice to have something positive come out of the whole mess.
Evelyn waved, watching as they disappeared and ported back to Prajna. The giant and her sister, wrapped tight in each other’s arms. Evelyn was thankful her sister had found someone so doting. She was also
thankful Eden’s male could teleport around in the blink of an eye. It would make visiting so much easier.
Their father had not reacted well to the news Eden was Viktor’s mate. When Edward saw both the vampire and Eden bore the matching birthmarks all fated vampires shared, there was nothing he could say. Viktor teleported Eden away that very day.
Evelyn was without a sister nearby for the first time in her life. The day Eden departed, Evelyn was left with a temple full of males: her father, his men, and a few wolves Kellan had sent to help comb through old prophesies for clues of what was to come. Everyone knew each faction was facing hardships and had been for some time. What they didn’t know was how to stop them.
This was why Edward had picked the Temple of Sanctus Femina. It was not only believed to be safe, it held information that might prove useful. Her mother, Elora, had a number of prophesies here. Thus far, none had been helpful.
Evelyn wished her father had stayed. Unwisely, he’d set out on horseback last week with some others to get to Castle Burghard. Theron had received a letter from Kellan stating they’d been betrayed by those they’d trusted and King Edward rushed to his aide.
She rubbed her forehead. Thinking of it gave her a headache.
“Evelyn?”
She turned to the elderly male calling from the entry to the temple.
“A word, if you don’t mind.”
Theron turned and walked into the building, his grey robes billowing into the air. Evelyn followed him into his study, where they’d just had their last meeting with her sisters and their males.
“Please sit,” he asked and shut the door. Instead of going to his large chair behind his desk, he sat in the one next to her.
“Marrok responded to my message.”
She nodded. Theron had sent a missive two weeks ago, briefly informing the demon of a meeting Theron had held with Edward, Kellan, and Viktor.
“He’s on his way here.” Theron pulled at his grey beard, staring at her, as though waiting for a reaction.
Adrenaline spiked her blood. Half of her was dying to see him, the other half felt she still needed time. After so long of waiting for them to be together, the timing couldn’t have been worse.