by Frost Kay
Tehl pressed one more quick kiss to her lips and forced himself from their room. He couldn’t think about how easily Sage could be hurt in the coming months. He would trust her and protect her to the best of his ability.
No one was taking her from him. Sage was finally his.
Together, they’d rid the world of the monsters.
Forty
Sage
Sage stared out at the ocean, her body slowly going numb. Scythia approached. He was coming for her. She knew it was only a matter of time before he hunted her down. Her gaze dropped to the waves crashing below, their siren call still there, but much less appealing.
She hissed and spun, storming inside. Even now she could feel the tell-tale panic trying to claw up her throat. Her reflection caught her attention, her steps pausing by the mirror. Every time she looked at herself, she saw the warlord. The product of his tampering.
Her hand wandered to her bare throat. He had no power over her anymore. She was free, and despite the changes to her physique, she was still herself. Cool, emerald eyes stared back at her, as cold as the light armor covering her arms and chest. If was ironic, really. The armor protected her body, but it was her mind that needed the protecting.
“Sage?”
She jumped and glanced at the door. Blaise stood in the doorway, watching with evident concern. The Scythian closed the door softly and leaned against it.
“He won’t win,” Blaise stated.
“Who are you trying to convince? Me or yourself? You and I both know we’re not ready for war.”
“Aermia is ready. You aren’t.”
She grimaced and turned back to the mirror, hating that Blaise was right. She wanted to pretend none of it ever happened. She wanted to forget.
“You can’t pretend he’s not out there. You can’t wish him away. You need to fight, or he wins.”
“I’m not strong enough.” There. She’d said the words that had been haunting her for weeks. She was scared to be near the warlord. What if he messed with her mind again? Could she even trust herself?
Blaise moved to her side and stared at the mirror. Sage stared at her friend’s reflection, eyeing the painted, swirling patterns that adorned the exposed part of Blaise’s right arm. It was beautiful in a terrifying way. Blaise had always been stunning with her olive skin and dark hair, but the paint added a touch of danger.
Her friend pulled a small container from her pocket and plopped it down on the vanity. “Sit,” she ordered. “And face me.”
Sage turned and sat slowly, staring up at Blaise. “What now?”
“You sit still, and you listen.”
Blaise leaned over her and opened the little container, pungent herbs filling the air. She dipped her thumb into the black sludge and pulled it back. She gave Sage an inscrutable look and lifted her chin up.
“Many years ago, my ancestors created the Tia paint. It was a rite of passage, if you will. Close your eyes.”
Sage closed her eyes and shivered as Blaise smeared cold paint from her forehead to her eyes, and then down to her cheek.
“Keep them closed.” Blaise shifted and began drawing on Sage’s face again. “Birth is a miraculous thing. It’s always been difficult for women as a whole. Only the strongest survive such a brutal experience. When the time came, the medicine women would paint an expectant mother’s face. It was said to help her fight, to embolden her in the face of such pain and the possibility of death.”
“I’m not with child.”
“The tradition evolved. When war between clans erupted, as it always does, the men started to wear the face paint as a symbol of what they were fighting for: their women and children. It wasn’t simply war paint, but a mark of their devotion and dedication to those they loved.”
She spun Sage around. “Open your eyes.”
Sage opened her eyes and stared at the painted woman in the mirror. Dark charcoal lined her eyes, causing the green to pop. Three bold lines slashed through her left brow and down to her cheek. Black dots followed the underside of her right brow and extended from her eye in three separate lines. Her gaze zeroed in on her obsidian lips. The creature in the mirror didn’t look like her, and yet, when she smiled, so did her reflection.
Blaise placed her hands on Sage’s shoulders and squeezed, pulling her attention from her reflection.
“You are not the woman he held in his cage. That Sage is dead and gone. He forged you into something else, not his pawn, but his demise.” Blaise smiled, but it wasn’t nice. “You are his greatest mistake. You are not his consort. You are his judgement, his enemy, and his ultimate destruction.”
“I am not his consort,” Sage whispered. “I am his destruction.”
“You are his death.”
“I am his death.”
“My mother would have never risked her plans for you if you weren’t important. She believed you would bring change. I believe that as well.” Blaise hugged her from behind and rested her chin on Sage’s shoulder. “We are sisters in arms, you and I.”
“Sisters in arms,” Sage murmured. “I will fight.”
“And I will stand at your side. That monster will regret ever hurting those we love.”
The ember of rage that always seemed to smolder in Sage’s gut, ignited. She was his greatest weakness.
To eradicate the darkness, she had to become darkness.
He’d never see her coming.
Forty-One
The Warlord
They thought they were so clever. They were children really, playing at being warriors. They had no idea what the future held.
Zane smiled as he watched the Aermian army scurry about like ants as they built their camps.
Ignorant.
They were ignorant of his spies. Ignorant that their greatest enemy walked among them. A leren among babes.
He stilled and glanced over his shoulder, as awareness tingled over his skin. A sixth sense that she was near. He narrowed his eyes on the approaching party. The crown prince lead the group, but Zane didn’t care. He only had eyes for one person. The goddess in armor and war paint.
“Sage,” he whispered, all covetousness and possession. His consort stole his breath away, her beauty so bright it felt like it burned him where he stood.
He kept his head bowed as the group passed him, his fingers brushed her cloak for one second before he receded into the bustling camp. He could steal her away now, but that would be too easy.
His consort has challenged him, and he loved a good fight. No, he wouldn’t take her this day. He’d wait for her surrender, and it would be all the more sweet.
Zane adjusted his cloak, and grinned.
Soon enough she’d bow to him. All he needed was a little patience. His consort would grace him with her presence soon enough.
Then he’d destroy her world.
To be continued in Spy’s Mask…
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The Next Book
Thank you for reading KING’S WARRIOR. I hope you enjoyed it! If you liked this book, please review it BECAUSE the review rating determines which series I prioritize. If you want the next book in this series soon, review this book❤ Thank you!
Read on for a sneak peek of Lilja and Hayjen’s story!
Forty-Two
Hayjen
Life was never simple. Months on the cursed ship taught him that.
Hayjen stared from his floating prison at the death trap surrounding him. The seductive black waves lapped below, beckoning, whispering to him to take the chance, to seize his freedom. Luminescent coral cast soft light below the obsidian waves offering a lie, a hope that one could survive the harsh sea if one stayed in the light, but Hayjen knew better. Just past the comforting glow of the coral, a beast hunted—so deadly that no one chanced the sea at night.
He shivered as a shiny, midnight fin sliced through the water, before silentl
y disappearing into the inky waves.
A Leviathan.
He wouldn’t make it two arms’ lengths before it dragged him below and killed him. His lips lifted into a grim smile. It might not be such a bad way to go compared to what the Scythians had planned for him.
“Hayjen?” a small voice called.
Turning his head, he sought the unruly mop of white blond hair. Mer, a little girl who had been captured a couple weeks after he had, peeked at him over the top of a barrel. Her soft lilac eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled at him, revealing a large gap where her tooth used to be. She scuttled from behind the barrel and slipped her small hand into his, their cuffs clinking together.
“What are you doing?”
What was he doing?
Hayjen stared at the tiny pale hand in his rough tan one. He could see her blue veins through her delicate skin. Mer was so fragile. His heart squeezed. This was why he couldn’t escape. His gaze latched on to her sweet face, gazing at him with adoration. He couldn’t leave Mer to the Scythians’ cruelty. For some reason, they delighted in tormenting the little one. If he hadn’t stepped in and given her some of his slop, she would’ve starved a long time ago. He also had his sister to think of. Where was she now? Was she okay?
“Hayjen?”
Hayjen blew out a breath and gave Mer his most brilliant smile. “I’m enjoying the view.”
Her lilac eyes darted to the rolling black waves—they widened with excitement when a fin cut through the water. Mer stabbed a finger at the water, practically bouncing on her toes. “A Leviathan!”
“Only you would get excited over a Leviathan.”
“They’re nice. When I get bigger, I want one as a pet.”
That made him snort. “I doubt that they would want to be kept as a pet.” He tickled her neck. “I think they would probably want to snack on you.”
Mer giggled. “No, they just like the way I smell. One sniffed me today.”
Hayjen stiffened. What was she talking about? He knelt and placed his hands on her dainty shoulders. “How did they sniff you?” he questioned, attempting to keep his heart from beating out of his chest.
A little shrug. “I was hot, so I asked if I could go for a swim, and the mean man threw me in. The Leviathan were happy to have someone to play with.”
Bile burned the back of his throat. They had thrown a little girl into Leviathan-infested waters? Unconsciously, his hands started to skim over her for injuries. “You swam with the Leviathan?” he croaked, trying to not throw up as he said the words.
Her innocent smile almost broke his heart. “Yep! We played tag. They darted in and bumped me with their noses before speeding off. I wish I was that fast in the water. When I got tired, one let me hold onto its fin. I got to ride one, Hayjen! Mama always said that one day I would be able to.”
He sucked in a deep breath and considered Mer’s unique lilac eyes. “You must not swim with the Leviathan again, Mer. It’s dangerous.”
“But they’re my friends.”
“I understand you had a wonderful time today, but they’re not safe.”
“They didn’t hurt me.”
“No more, Mer.”
Her jaw jutted out stubbornly. “I like them.”
If reason wasn’t going to work, he had to scare her. “They like to eat people.”
Her eyes bulged. “Eat people?” she squeaked.
“Yes.” He nodded gravely. “Leviathan eat people, and I love you too much for you to be eaten, so please stay out of the water, for me.” Hayjen watched her emotions flicker across her face until settling into resignation.
“I guess. I don’t want to be eaten.”
“Me neither.” He pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly. She could have died. Those bastards threw her in the water expecting her to be eaten. Fury boiled through his veins. She was just a little girl. Dropping a kiss onto the crown of her head, Hayjen pulled back and chucked her under the chin. “It’s time for bed, little one.”
“Awww…” she pouted.
“None of that. Let’s go.”
Mer skipped ahead, and bounded down the stairs leaving him behind. He took one last look at the sea, and put his fantasies of freedom behind him. There wouldn’t be any escape for him tonight. Hayjen strode to the stairs and descended into the belly of the ship. He wove around hammocks swaying from the ceiling, filled with sleeping slaves. He was one of the few men captured. Hayjen hadn’t believed the rumors that Scythians were stealing people. He was minding his own business fishing one day when he was stolen. His rigging was tied up, the ship approached and offered him help. They looked like a run of the mill merchant ship, right up until the moment they knocked him out. When he woke up, he was cuffed to the wall, bleeding with no idea where he was. He was alone at first, that is until Mer was captured a few weeks later. She looked so pitiful, sopping wet and shaking like a leaf. When she wouldn’t stop crying, one of the men cuffed her so hard behind the ear, she flew forward into the mast unconscious. Hayjen made a decision then. He’d protect her.
She was a peculiar little girl, but she had wormed her way into his heart immediately. Even now, months later, he still didn’t know much about her family. Mer couldn’t remember much. He didn’t know if it was due to the blow to her head, her age, or her mind protecting her from a traumatic event.
Hayjen spotted Mer swinging in her hammock. Carefully, he caught it, and gave her a stern look. “It’s time for bed.”
“Okay.” She snuggled down and looked up at him expectantly. “A song?”
Her angelic face, so full of hope, ensnared him. How could he say no? “One song. Just one.” He knelt down next to her and sang a song his mum used to sing to him as a child. Her eyes hooded as sleep tried to take her. At the end, she slipped her hand into his.
“Prayer?”
“Anything for you, baby girl.” He didn’t feel particularly thankful at the moment, but it calmed her. After uttering a few words of thanks, her little eyes closed and stayed closed. Hayjen brushed the blond fuzz from her cheek, admiring the planes of her face. She reminded him of his sister Gwen. After their parents died, he would tuck her into bed and say a prayer with her, even though he was only a handful of years older than she was.
Mer released a soft sigh and smiled in her sleep. He could have lost her today. Rage bubbled at the thought. They had thrown her into Leviathan-infested waters. How did she survive? Leviathan were known for being extremely aggressive and eating just about anything. It didn’t make sense. He dropped a kiss on her forehead and wove through the swinging hammocks. He needed to have a word with the captain. He most likely would receive a whipping for saying anything. It wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last.
When Hayjen spotted Leth, it was all he could do not to tear his head off. Leth was an extremely tall, widely-built man with cheekbones so sharp you could cut yourself on them. The first mate had a particularly mean streak. He enjoyed causing suffering and pain. Hayjen had received lashes for just looking at the man the wrong way. He blew out a breath—he needed to execute this with care. Steeling himself, he strode toward Leth. The Scythian first mate spotted him and jerked his chin towards Hayjen, pulling the other Scythians’ attention. He clenched his jaw at the slurs thrown his way and halted before the group. “I need to speak with the captain.”
Leth pushed off his chair and moved to stand in front of him. “The slave demands to see the captain. What does a slave need with the captain?”
Hayjen tipped his chin up to meet the first mate’s eyes. “One of his slaves almost died today.”
Leth chuckled, his cronies joining in. “Why would the captain care about that?”
“Mer was thrown into the sea.”
Leth’s face screwed up in disgust. “She was unscathed the last time I saw the little brat, unfortunately.”
Several men crossed themselves. Something about Mer unnerved them and stirred their hate something fierce. “You threw her to the Leviathan.”
<
br /> “What concern is it of yours? She’s not your daughter.”
He wasn’t getting anywhere arguing with this lout. “I think our captain would be very concerned that his first mate threw one of his valuables overboard.”
The laughter cut off, and Leth’s eyes narrowed, taking on a menacing glint. “Are you threatening me, slave?” His tone took on a dangerous edge.
“No,” Hayjen replied softly. “I am giving you my oath that if the little girl is harmed, I will make the Leviathan look tame.”
Waves crashed against the ship as the air around them filled with tension. “You dare to speak to me this way?” hissed Leth. “You are nothing but a blight on this world. Tonight you will be taught a lesson you will never forget, boy.”
“So be it. It will change nothing.”
The first mate seemed to swell in size, towering over Hayjen. “Tie him to the mast.”
He didn’t fight as they roughly seized him and dragged him to the mast. It didn’t matter if he resisted. In the beginning, he had fought, but quickly he had learned they were all unnaturally stronger than him. Every once in a while, he would land a blow, but the majority of the time it was he that sustained injury. Chain clipped into his metal manacle and bit into the abused flesh around his wrists. His hands were lifted above his head and his shirt cut from his back, exposing his healing lash marks to the cool air. This was going to hurt. He had calmed down for the sake of the girls on the ship to protect them as much as he could. One of the girls, Lera, had refused to sleep with a Scythian and was sentenced to forty lashes for disgracing her betters. He had stepped in and taken the punishment for her. She wouldn’t have survived the lashing.
“Slave,” Leth’s voice leered. “Your very existence sickens me.”