by Nina, Tara
She definitely wasn’t of this world. Was her existence proof the Mirror of Azure truly existed? His people had heard of the mirror, but didn’t know if it was more than a mere myth or its exact location, until Sven let that slip as well. If Obinu got his way, the mirror would become property of his clan before this was over.
Angling his head just right, he got a clear view of her face. A glimpse of her eyes and he shrank deep into the flowerbed. Those eyes. His tongue flicked at a furious pace. Her eyes were the oddest shade of blue the likes of which he’d never seen. Looking at them sent a strange sensation down his spineless form. Was that a sign? Was she of magical descent? Was it even possible?
No. He shook his oval-shaped head and gathered his thoughts. There were no others greater in the magical ways as the creatures of Eximius Mundus. There was no way her eyes maintained mystical powers. They were just an alluring color, he tried to convince his curiosity. Returning to his former stance, he refused to glimpse upon those eyes again. He couldn’t be sure if they were evil or good and he was taking no chances.
In a slow perusal, his gaze lingered on her body. The woman’s breasts were round and luscious and barely hidden beneath the taut fabric of her robe. As in most Morphionian women’s styled robes, the front sported a deep-vee shape for easy access to her attributes. Ah, how he loved a woman’s breasts.
The faint tremble of the ground set him on full alert. In an instant, he recoiled into the flowerbed and prayed the scent-masking charm around his neck worked. Tor approached. Slow and steady, he retreated without losing sight of his adversary. Though cut short, he considered the mission a success. It validated Sven’s information.
A woman ripe and ready for the taking lived within the bear palace walls and he intended to have her. Deveney belonged to him as far as he was concerned. And no magical mating ritual was going to stand in his way. But if it did, he had an alternate use for her. Find out if she traveled through the mirror and then steal that from the bear as well.
* * * * *
Sven tapped on Tor’s door. The sound echoed in his head and increased the booming throb. Remnants of drugged wine coated his tongue and dried his mouth. Each intake of air caused his nasal passages to burn from Obinu’s use of Turism Incense to extract the truth. He’d done some stupid things before but this topped them all. He let a snake outsmart him.
“Enter!”
Sven squinted against the bellowing of his brother’s command.
He opened the door, stepped inside and closed it. Tor sat behind his desk bent over a stack of tabellaes. From his body stance, Sven sensed discomfort and anger. Great. He sighed. The topic of his discussion would add more problems to the pile already on his brother’s shoulders. Sven wished there was some other way to handle this, but Tor needed to be made aware of Obinu’s suspicious actions. From the information he gathered earlier, Obinu wanted something the Bear clan owned.
By the Goddess Nirvana, Sven issued a silent prayer and hoped he was wrong. For the first time in his history of goof-ups, his mistake directly affected Tor. Overextended bets were easily paid from the family coffers. Drunken brawls broken up by his older brother had prevented Sven from severe beatings. A heavy snort left his nose on that thought. In his younger day, he figured Tor intervened so the pain they shared would be less.
Initially, jealousy of his older brother’s status led to the notion Tor protected Sven just to save himself. Sven learned years ago their father stirred trouble between them. He swallowed hard, dowsing the momentary anger that threatened to rise toward his father’s ill-conceived idea on how to create the perfect leader in Tor. Divide the twins. Separate the weak from the strong. That didn’t happen. Sven let a sly smile tug at the corner of his lips. The acceptance of his father’s favoritism toward Tor and the refusal to let it bother him ticked the old man off more than anything else.
Sven stopped in his tracks as the thought hit him hard. All his life he’d been an irresponsible cuss, while the brunt of his actions fell on Tor’s shoulders. He stared at Tor who sat bent over his work. They were supposed to be brothers who looked out for one another. But it had always been Tor who defended him no matter what stupid stunt he pulled. What had he ever done for Tor? Nothing but cause him trouble.
Would Tor forgive him this one? This time it involved someone more important than himself. Sven took a deep breath as he issued a silent reprimand. Time to become a man and face the faults that have been done. Time to correct what can be corrected and defend an innocent caught in the path of stupidity’s wrath.
“Tor, I need to talk to you.” Sven forced the words to exit his lips as he walked across the room and took a seat in one of the two deep-cushioned, leather chairs that sat underneath the large front window.
“What is it, brother, that can’t wait?” Tor snapped without looking up from his work. Concentration didn’t exist for work. Deveney consumed his every thought. When Sven didn’t answer, Tor forced his gaze to his brother. Something truly tortured Sven’s soul.
Tor gathered his strength, stood and prepared himself for Sven’s ridicule. Nothing slipped from his twin’s mouth. Glancing down, he knew his hardened condition couldn’t be missed and still no jest flew his way. Whatever tormented Sven had to be bad for him not to take advantage of this situation.
Tor crossed the room and took a seat beside his brother.
“I believe I may have betrayed you, my brother.” Sven stared at his folded hands in his lap.
Sven wouldn’t look at him and distress filled his tone. Tor sensed his inner turmoil and experienced a hint of the headache Sven suffered. Being this close to Sven in pain, Tor was gifted with a sample of what afflicted him. The curse of being closely connected with his twin. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Tor tried to stave off the dull thud that started behind his eyes. The sharing of each other’s pain increased with proximity to one another. The farther they were apart, the less they experienced of the actual affliction.
Sven knew this. From the look on his face, whatever he had to say was important enough for him to inflict undeserved pain on Tor. Years ago, they’d decided whenever one or the other had imbibed too much—usually Sven—they’d stay apart so both didn’t suffer. The dark circles under Sven’s eyes let Tor know his brother had not slept.
“From the looks of you and the headache we share, you were at the cairnts game last night.” Tor settled back in his chair. The usual possible scenarios of what troubled Sven paraded through his head. “What is the amount needed this time to cover your losses?”
“No, brother. I wish it was that simple,” Sven replied in a solemn tone. “Last night I learned the snake is up to something. Exactly what that something is, I cannot be sure. But he drugged me to gain information.”
Tor licked his lips against the sudden dryness in his mouth. The throb in his head and the nauseous swirl in his gut hinted Sven suffered from a night of too much drink. Sven shifted in his seat and finally looked Tor in the eye. Even though the whites of his blue eyes were streaked with tiny red lines of tiredness, Tor knew Sven spoke the truth. Neither lied to the other.
“Obinu used Turism Incense on me,” Sven continued before Tor could speak. “I’m not sure why he did it or what he was after. I spent most of the morning trying to remember what he asked while I was under the drug. Been picking out bits and pieces from my jumbled thoughts. Blurred images. Slurred words. It’s not been easy deciphering the stewed situation in my head. But I can’t shake this feeling in my gut it has to do with you.”
When Sven gathered his head in his hands and flopped back into the chair, Tor grimaced. The pounding inside his head ricocheted from side to side. Tor dug his palms into his temples in a futile attempt to stave the mirrored agony.
“We need to think this through,” Tor said between clenched teeth. “But first we have to rid you of this pain.”
It took a great effort to shove from the chair, stand and walk to the bathroom. The more distance he placed between him and Sven, the more
the pain lessened. While in the bathroom, he splashed water on his face and ran a hand through his hair. The cool sensation eased the lingering ache from his scalp. Once he gathered his calm, he returned to his desk, opened the bottom drawer and pulled out a tan leather flask, then tossed it across the room to Sven.
“Drink,” he commanded as he took a chance and returned to the chair beside Sven.
Without hesitation, Sven flipped open the end and took a deep swig. Gagging and coughing, he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “If that’s supposed to be vinetta, it’s awful. I’d fire the vinettian who made it.”
“It’s a potion from the healers. Some time back I had them create something to stave the pain I suffered from one of your nights out.” Tor issued him a thin smile. “It’s nasty but it works.”
Sven burped, made a face and visibly scraped his tongue against his teeth as if he attempted to rid his taste buds of the vile flavor. He tossed the flask back to Tor. “Thanks for not sharing this sooner.”
“Neither of us can function like this. You know that. What is of such importance you could not send me a tabellae instead of visiting me in person?”
“I needed you to understand I speak the truth and this isn’t some post-drunken claim of mine.” Sven turned and met Tor’s gaze. “I’ve let you down on many occasions due to my gambling and drinking habits. This time is different. I’ve got a sneaking suspicion the snake tricked me into revealing something—something important. I feel it. I know he played me for a stooge and I want revenge.”
When Tor started to speak, Sven held his hand up, cutting him off. “A tabellae from me would have prevented your suffering the pain I feel. But this conversation I felt was best not recorded for others to find. Obinu is a traitor to the laws of the clans. He used a forbidden method to extract information and this time, we have the evidence to charge him in front of the Gathering of the Clans. There were two women involved as well who will lay witness against him.”
Tor sat silent for a moment. The conviction in Sven’s tone weighed heavily on Tor’s heart. His brother believed he let Tor down. Never had he thought that of Sven. Always he’d accepted Sven’s faults and all without question or condemnation. Sven was his brother. The fun-loving half of the pair he wished he could be. No matter what damage Sven caused, Tor loved him.
“Sven, I have to admit there have been times where your judgment has lacked. There is one thing you must know,” Tor said as he stood, then knelt in front of Sven and stared up into his bloodshot eyes. “I have always trusted and loved you, my brother.”
Before Sven reacted, Tor straightened to full height. “You were right about this discussion. It’s best kept between us until proof of any wrongdoings by Obinu can be shown. I’d love nothing more than to finally set that snake loose in Dystopia.”
Just the thought sent a chill down Tor’s spine. The Proprius Bestia roamed the desolate land called Dystopia. No one survived if they ever crossed the magical barrier between Eximius Mundus and Dystopia. The threat of being sent there before turning Proprius Bestia was usually enough to keep a Morphionian straight and the laws of Eximius Mundus in order. But Obinu thought those rules didn’t apply to him or his clan.
Tor turned on his heels and walked across the room, placing as much distance between them as possible. While the potion worked on Sven, they needed to be apart if either of them was to figure this out. He needed to clear his head and sitting right beside the source of pain didn’t allow him an accurate line of thought.
“Unfortunately,” Tor added as he returned to his chair behind his desk. “Turism Incense leaves no traceable evidence within the victim’s system. That was why it was such an instrumental interrogation tool. No proof of its use other than a dreadful headache for the victim.”
Sven stood and walked as far as he could to the opposite wall away from Tor. They knew they were safe within this room. Its walls were soundproof. The distance between them helped the pain subside to a dull ache in Tor’s head.
“I know we can’t prove he used it, but the smell of it is undeniable and unforgettable. You may not completely remember what you said or did while under it, but the distinctive smell sticks with you.” A lopsided grin split Sven’s lips as he added, “Two others were drugged along with me. Like I said, we have witnesses to the event.”
“That is, if they remember it,” Tor stated. “The names of the other two involved?”
“Not important. Just leave them to me to bring to the next Gathering of the Clans. What we need to find out is what Obinu wanted to know.”
A knot clenched in Tor’s gut. Something didn’t seem right about this. Obinu was not trustworthy. This point he’d proven several times before. But due to the dire situation of the possible extinction of their people, no course of action against Obinu had been taken. Obinu’s questionable decisions were dismissed as his way of contending with his clan’s needs.
Now this was different. He’d broken a clan rule and used a volatile chemical on Sven to gain information. But information about what? What did Sven know that Obinu needed so desperately?
“It’s a known fact their clan is low on finances.” Tor started listing the possible scenarios behind Obinu’s actions.
“I hold no knowledge of how to enter our vaults. That information lies only with you,” Sven replied, shifted his stance and rubbed his temple with the palm of his hand. “Besides, after last night’s games, I feel most certain he vastly replenished their shares.”
“You lost,” Tor stated with an arched eyebrow and his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned back in his chair.
“Every hand, as did almost everyone there,” Sven said. His gaze leveled on Tor’s. “Obinu planned from the start to gain finances from all who played by adding the distraction of a few of Oksana’s ladies to the mix.”
“Smart move on his part,” Tor commented in a wry tone as he thought things through. Though he knew a few of the females who chose to work at Oksana’s, he’d never visited the facility. He held no ill will toward the handful of unmated females in her employ that used the position to search for their mates. “Sex, drinks and gambling. The addition of ladies from Oksana’s Relaxation Emporium made sure the men paid little attention to the cards or how they were dealt. They were probably so busy following their cocks they didn’t care that they lost.”
“You’re right. At least, I know I’m guilty of that.” Sven shrugged. “The two ladies I spent the night with fell victim to this drug with me. But so far, I’m the only player that was drugged. Earlier, I sent a couple of tabellaes to a few of my friends who were there and waited to hear back before coming to see you. None suffer the same ill effects as I.”
“What do you think Obinu wanted from you?” Tor asked point blank. His insides twisted when he met the hardened sullen gaze of his brother. The answer to his own question hit him even before Sven replied.
Deveney.
“I have no proof, but I fear he knows of Deveney’s existence.”
“What would he want with Deveney?” Tor spoke the words as if saying them convinced him it wasn’t possible.
“The same thing every man perched on the verge of his hundredth birthday wants,” Sven stated in a matter-of-fact tone. “A mate. Every man wants one. Maybe in his twisted mind he thinks he can take Deveney and make her his.”
Tor leapt to his feet, causing his chair to tumble backward as he roared, “She’s not his to claim.”
“Your cock confirms that point without question.” Sven nodded in the direction of the tented front of Tor’s robe. “Does this mean you’ve finally accepted Deveney as your mate?”
Tor didn’t have to look to know the condition of his cock. The mating magic kept him hard for her and nothing he tried remedied it.
“What lies between me and Deveney is none of your concern,” Tor growled between clenched teeth as he fought to rein in the sudden rush of anger. Suspecting Obinu wanted Deveney as his mate set his insides on fire with rage. He tried despe
rately to convince himself he held no right to feel such hatred toward another clan leader.
“What lies between you and Deveney is a magical mating even your stubborn pride cannot deny.” Sven crossed the room in long, hurried strides until only the desk parted them. “You have what every man wants. A lifemate, a true combining of chakras and yet you deny it. Why? Because how she got here wasn’t your idea!”
Tor lifted to his full height and stared eye-to-eye with Sven. Neither blinked. Both stood, shoulders squared, chins lifted and gazes leveled on one another. Never had Sven raised his voice or stared him down.
“Admit it, brother,” Sven continued in a heated tone. “Deveney is your mate.”
Tor couldn’t stop the sudden grin that split his face. All anger washed from him. He had planned to wait until he’d admitted it to Deveney, but Sven was his twin and deserved to know the truth.
“Deveney is my mate.” He watched Sven’s jaw drop and the look of pure astonishment cross his face. “Please keep this between us. I haven’t told Deveney of my change of heart.”
Sven rounded the desk and hugged Tor. “Congratulations, my brother.” He leaned back and stared directly at Tor. “Does this mean there is hope for the rest of us?”
“Yes, there’s hope. We just have to put a plan in place concerning how to bring other women through the mirror. It has to be controlled and monitored. I’d hate to think what would happen if a war broke out over that mirror.”
Sven nodded. “It’s understood. But what do we do about Obinu? My gut instinct tells me he’s not after the mirror.”
“You let me worry about that, Sven. Right now you need to rest and clear your head. Later when you’ve recovered, we will speak again.”
Sven hugged Tor tight. “Thank you, Tor. I don’t deserve a brother like you.”
Before Tor could reply, Sven turned and left. Tor closed the door then returned to his desk.