To Bleed A Kingdom, page 2
Removing Aurora, I quickly unwrap the sling and wrap it around Theon’s body, placing a trembling and sobbing Aurora inside it.
“Mama?” Confused eyes dart between me and Aurora.
“Take your sister and follow the passageway until it ends,” I say, praying that he’ll be able to bear her weight. “There's a room at the end of the corridor with beds and food. There's lots of toys, too! I'll come and find you when I can.”
His sobs worsen and he gasps. “No!”
“I can't go with you, baby,” I say with an apologetic smile.
Crouching before them, I press my lips to Aurora’s forehead and hug them both tightly to my chest, feeling the wetness of tears as I place a soft kiss on Theon’s chubby cheek.
“I'll find you,” I whisper. “I promise.” Heart shattering, I stand to my feet and peer down at him. “Run, Theon.”
Then I shut the door on Aurora's cries and Theon’s anguished face, just as a worn boot punches through the broken door.
Adrenaline wavering, I cradle my broken wrist to my chest and place my opposite hand against the wound on my side, feeling my life force slither between the webbing of my fingers as I stumble before my bed and collapse to my knees. Suffering from grief, pain, heartbreak, and exhaustion, I bow my head and watch my blood slowly pool onto the oak wood floors, lacking the strength to acknowledge the methodical footsteps slowly approaching.
“Lift her,” a deep voice demands.
Rough hands drag me to my feet and I release a strangled cry. Slowly lifting my head, I meet the glacial-eyed stare of the Savage King himself, King Rainier.
His face betrays no emotion as he scrutinizes me from head to toe. “She's wounded,” he coldly states. “Were my orders not clear when I said no harm is to come to her?” His jaw hardens. “Find who did this.”
The greasy man standing beside him shuffles his feet. “I think it was Ptorik.”
Rainier glances over his shoulder, seeing the dead body beside the doorway. “I'm assuming that's Ptorik?” Rainier asks, returning his cruel gaze to mine.
The greasy man nods his head.
“And whose responsibility was it to ensure my orders were executed properly?”
Silence.
“Who?” Rainier growls.
“M-m-mine,” the greasy man stutters.
The air thickens menacingly as everyone holds their breath for Rainier’s response.
“You disobeyed me.”
Without breaking my gaze, Rainer darts his hand out and crushes the man’s throat with a speed and strength unnatural for a human. Mouth gaping like a fish, the man stumbles to his knees while clutching his throat and collapses to the floor, squirming desperately for breath.
“Disobedience is an act of betrayal,” Rainier tosses over his shoulder to the gangly man at his back. “There's no place for disloyalty in my court.” Stepping forward, Rainier’s lips tug up into a savage grin as he leers at me. “Hello, Your Majesty.”
Scanning his handsome face, staring into those cruel glacial blue eyes so full of triumph, I wonder how I was ever able to endure his presence. Sweeping my gaze over his black hair that almost appears blue, I suck in a pained breath when I see the gold crown atop his head, studded with orange topaz and starlight jewels and speckled with blood. My stomach roils into itself when I realize whose blood it's speckled with. Valor's blood. Valor’s crown.
“How?” I don't need to ask why. Cascadonia is a prosperous kingdom. Mild weather, a fruitful growing season, rich in coin and beauty. As for Rainier’s kingdom, Brecca is an arctic wasteland. An inhospitable landscape made even harsher for the human dominated kingdom where they have no fae or immortal citizens to alleviate the strain. Rainier may be a king, but he’s a king of a barren land and destitute people. A king of nothing.
Rainier smiles. “The Goddess of Death gifted us absolute protection against your power.”
I scoff, a flash of fire searing through my wound with the act. “We are Uriella’s favored. Her crown jewels. Desdemona would never defy her so openly.” None of the gods would.
“Oh, yes!” He laughs, a rumbling, arrogant sound. “The Goddess of Life's golden pets. But it would seem you are no longer her crown jewels. For you are not from her loins, and she has born a son. With Azazel, no less.”
“Impossible,” I breathe. “The Stars forbid it.”
Always one for showmanship, he waves a finger, tsking. “The Stars are fickle entities and will do as they please. And what they wish for is for the Mother of Life and the Creator of All to bear a babe.”
If this is true, it will upset the balance even more than it already is. Any child born from that union would have limitless power. Power that could rival all the gods, maybe even the Stars themselves. Too much power for one being. An abomination. One that the gods would not allow to live.
Stars save us.
“Ah.” Rainier chuckles in glee. “You see it now, don’t you? Uriella’s favor means little to the gods when they’re already condemned by hunting her only natural born child.”
“What does Desdemona get out of this agreement?” I ask, swallowing thickly, seeing now this is so much more than a battle between kingdoms, but a war against gods. “I doubt she needs a human for anything.”
His face shudders. “Her plans are not your concern. What should be, is that Desdemona granted me a taste of her power, giving me the means to conquer Cascadonia. And when I prove my loyalty to her, she’ll bestow her full blessing on Brecca and we will be the ones favored by the gods.”
I laugh bitterly, blood spurting from my wound as the vibrations tear it open even more. “You mean you'll be her slaves.”
Glacial blue orbs narrow. “A faithful servant. And with her guiding hand, I’ll rule over all of Vanyimar.”
Walking toward me, he stops a few paces away, speaking in an alarmingly quiet tone. “Where are your children?”
Lifting my chin, I say nothing, my hard gaze boring into his cruel one.
“If you tell me, I'll spare your life.” Silence. “I know you've hidden them somewhere.” His lips tighten. “I'll find them one way or another. At least this way you can live.”
Rainier’s eyes suddenly brighten, smiling in triumph when I lean forward. My shoulder and wrists screaming, I curse the man shackling my wrists between his impossibly strong grip as I overextend my arms and arch toward Rainier. “Fuck. You.”
That arrogant smile falls, his gaze hardening as he takes two large strides towards me, stopping when the tips of his shoes rest against my bare toes. Leaving only a breadth of space between us, he shapes his hand as if it's a spear, and an agonized scream tears from my throat when he stabs his hand into the seam of my wound, twisting his fingers.
Screaming and sobbing, my vision wavers and I begin to lose consciousness. Left hand still torturing me, his other strokes my hair with mock affection. “Shh shh… It's alright,” he soothes. “Tell me where the children are and the pain will stop.”
“I don't know!”
“You don't know?”
“No!” I scream on a sob, desperate for the pain to end, but not desperate enough to betray my children.
He pulls his fingers from my wound and gently places his blood-slicked hand upon my cheek along with the other, delicately cradling my face.
“You're lying.” Blue eyes roam my face. “Gorgeous,” he murmurs. “You're even a legend amongst immortals, did you know that? They say your beauty could rival Uriella herself.” He traces his finger softly down my cheek as his eyes glaze over in lust, his voice hoarsening. “You truly are stunning.”
Revolted by his touch, I jerk my head from his grip and spit on his face.
Rainier stills, and a foreboding silence fills the room as he slowly wipes the glob off his cheek. Then his face contorts into a snarl and he grips my chin hard enough to break bones. Eyes maddened from rage he snarls, “Where are they?”
Tremors racking my body, I shake my head as much as I’m capable within his bruising grip.
A vicious light suddenly flashes within his eyes. Still gripping my chin, he slowly slides his opposite hand along my neck, his fingers trailing down my collarbone. Once he reaches the top of my dress, my chest clenches in fear as I struggle to free my arms with no success.
He rips the top of my gown, my breasts bouncing free as he slips his hand beneath one, cupping it. As affectionate as a lover, he slowly traces my areola and I swallow back bile as he tweaks my nipple to a pebbled state. Spreading his hand to encompass my entire breast, I cry out once he begins kneading it. But that cry quickly turns to a torturous scream when he viciously clenches my breast, then twists.
Shutting his eyes, he rests his forehead against mine and I feel the heat of his breath caress my face when he releases a hunger-fueled groan.
“Tell me where they are,” he demands, his voice thickened with lust. “I cannot rule Cascadonia uncontested while your children still live.”
All my pain, all my grief, all my fear and disgust swirls together, coalescing into an unmanageable whirl of chaos that swiftly morphs into a volatile mixture of rage and hate.
Pale green eyes expressing every ounce of loathing for him and his despicable race, I scream, “Never! I'll never tell you!” With heaving breaths, I promise, “You'll never find my children and you'll never rule Cascadonia. Even with a goddess’s favor.” I laugh, a crazed, bitter sound. “No immortal or fae will ever bow to a filthy human.”
Rainier’s features contort into a blistering rage and he backhands me, throwing me from my captor’s grip to land face first on top of the bed. Head swimming and vision full of stars, I'm unable to regain my senses before I feel the weight of Rainier’s body lying atop my back, pushing me into the bed.
“You always were a sanctimonious little bitch, weren't you?” he says scornfully. “Never knew when to keep your mouth shut. Valor thought you to be spirited.” He laughs. “What a fool he was. Never realized that bitches must be trained to obey.”
He grinds his growing erection against my ass, prodding me. I squirm, crying out when he fists his hand into my hair and jerks my head back, licking up the column of my arched throat.
Pressing his lips to the lobe of my ear, he growls, “A bitch must be broken before she learns to heel."
Placing his hand across the back of my head, he crushes my face into the mattress before shoving off.
“Hold her.”
The lifting of his weight is quickly replaced by hands pressed upon my upper back. Accompanied by the sounds of a belt unbuckling and clothes rustling, Rainier sneers, “I bet you’ve never been fucked by a human cock before. Never demeaned yourself that way, have you?”
When I hear a ripping sound and a cool breeze brush my lower region, a feeling of dread slithers within me as I fight to remove the hands holding me down to no avail. Feeling his weight return along my back, I lock my ankles to prevent the inevitable, but his thighs easily spread my own.
“Don't worry, Your Highness. I’ll solve that issue for you,” he promises, right before I feel a ripping, burning pain as he forcefully invades my body.
Savagely tearing apart my lower half, my breath whooshes from my lungs and I suck in another, releasing a bloodcurdling scream as he ruts on me like a feral animal. Screaming and sobbing, I try to buck, scratch, kick and punch, but all I manage to do is squirm minutely and claw at the bedding.
My disgust and devastation at being violated, along with the feeling of filth, of Rainier’s defilement of my body and his perversion of such a sacred act, creates a fissure in my soul. I begin to weep.
Head bobbing, I stare unseeing at the wall violently wavering back and forth due to his manic thrusts, and I stop fighting. Tears drying, body limpening, I choose to see nothing, to hear nothing, to feel nothing. Instead, I float outside my body and imagine a world where my husband isn't dead, my children are safe, my home isn't overrun by enemies, and I can't feel a human usurper swelling inside me now, grunting his release. He softens inside me before I feel the slippery withdrawal of him, but all I do is stare, seeing nothing.
At the sound of him buckling his belt, I feel his seed slither down my thighs and feel the heat of his breath between my thighs as he says to the other man, “Look at that pretty cunt dripping with my cum.”
He laughs manically, his words and actions intended to demean, but they no longer have the ability to wound me. Even when I hear an earsplitting roar and his laughter abruptly cuts off, his weight slamming on top of me and crushing me into the bed, obscuring my vision.
With the sounds of shouts and the clashing of swords that quickly cease, I do nothing. I see nothing. I feel nothing. Not even when the weight is removed and a wide eyed Cascadonia guard fills my vision.
“Your Highness!” He turns his head to speak to another. “It's her! It's the Queen!”
Another roar, followed by a wet squelching sound, and the guard’s gaze snaps above my head. “Get him out of here!”
“Are you injured?” the guard asks, returning his gaze to me.
I say nothing.
At my silence, timid hands begin to roam my body, only for him to quickly jerk them back, horror lining his face as he stares at the blood slickening his fingers.
“She needs a healer!”
A dark-skinned arm suddenly snaps out, fisting the back of the guard's tunic and throwing him across the room. Those very same arms lift me off the bed, careful not to jostle my wounds, and cradle me to his chest.
With the swaying motion of the guard carrying me towards the door, my eyelids begin to descend and my body starts to shut down. But I quickly snap them open when I notice a lone male standing in the corner near the door.
At first, I assume him to be one of the guards, but then I notice his clothing. His human clothing. Battling consciousness, I force my eyes to remain open once I realize I recognize him. He's one of the humans who restrained Valor when he was killed, but… he's not a human at all.
With his sun kissed skin, pillowy lips, and blonde, wavy hair, he’s the most attractive male I’ve ever seen. His luminous, bluish silver eyes are stunning, yet his markings are strange and he lacks the two or four jewels that would signify his power as immortal or fae. He's not human, but he's not fae or immortal, either. He's something other. But what he is doesn't concern me. All that does is he’s just as responsible as Rainier for my husband's death.
I attempt to signal the guards to the traitor in our midst; call out, whisper, even issue a small grunt, but with the remainder of my blood seeping from my wounds, my lips refuse to shape the words. Powerless and unmoving, I can only watch as the male weeps silently. Struggling to contain the consciousness trickling between my fingers, only a sliver of my vision remains as the guard carrying me nears him. That's when an impossible realization dawns on me. The guards aren't even aware of this creature. It's as if he’s concealed himself from everyone’s sight but my own, and he's as much of a specter as my dear Valor.
Tearing his gaze from mine, the weeping male ambles toward the door. And it’s as he vanishes over the threshold, but before my eyes slide shut, I’m finally able to sense the spark of new life bloom within my womb.
Chapter 1
Darius
With a swipe of my sword, I slice through the Soulless’ neck, severing bone and sinew along with the creature's connection to its master. Tugging a cloth from my pocket, I wipe away the Soulless’ black blood from my blade, watching its cloak of ruby flecked, black shadows disperse on the wind, returning to its patron’s goddess as the undead’s body returns to its natural state.
Dead. Unanimated. Decomposing. No more glowing red eyes, no more death magic, and no more insatiable need for blood. Just as it should be. Just as it should have always been.
Hearing a screech, I turn toward the sound and find a Soulless snapping at Kace’s neck. The Nature fae’s blue eyes are widened comically as he extends his arm to keep the mindless creature at bay. When his emerald jewels illuminate, I watch and wait, expecting him to use his Nature magic to defend himself. But I'm proven wrong when the battle hardened fae begins slapping at the demon’s face, screeching like a female. Sighing, I press my boot to the mud-slicked ground, ready to assist, when a sword suddenly spears through its skull.
Griffin, a large male with cropped brown hair and the markings of an Air immortal with a sapphire and starlight jewel near the outer corner of each eye, appears calm and collected as he tugs the sword free from the creature's skull. Even when the Soulless’ body slides down Kace’s, leaving a trail of putrid body fluids in its wake.
“Oh, gods!” Kace snaps forward on a gag, retching over the crumbled dead.
“You probably shouldn't be hanging your head directly over its rotting corpse,” Griffin says, his lumbering footsteps rising in volume until he reaches my side. “I imagine the scent of decay is much more potent when you’re all but rubbing your nose in it.” He shrugs, seeming indifferent. “Just a suggestion.”
Intelligent enough to accept his advice, Kace kicks the Soulless away, then resumes his heaving.
Giving Kace a moment to himself, I look over all the lifeless creatures scattered across the forest floor. Several appear just as they always do. Emaciated, hairless, with leathery, sunken skin. Of course, one could never forget their clawed hands and dagger-like fangs, made even deadlier when their jaw widens enough to swallow an adult male's head whole. Better to suck your blood and your soul along with it, I suppose. Most of them obviously passed some time ago, but for some, the lack of decomposition is concerning. They still have patches of hair and their skin oozes as if transitioning to their companions' leathery state. They’re fresh, which means they haven't been dead long. It's rare to find freshly deceased Soulless, and there's four in this party alone.
