Betrayal's Price (In Deception's Shadow Book 1) (22 page)

A lattice
covered window opened onto a courtyard garden, allowing light to reflect in
thin bands onto cream-colored walls. Though the room at the back of the inn was
clean and adequately furnished, it was small for one of Sorntar’s height and
his crest brushed the ceiling. At least it was quiet. Ashayna was just beyond
in an adjoining room, preparing for the evening with Lamarra.

Sorntar fanned
out his freshly oiled wings, absorbing the sun’s late-day heat. Silver bands
circled his wrists and ankles, sparkling with jewels of pale blue and deep
indigo, a close match in shade and hue to his plumage. More jewels were clasped
to the three largest feathers in his crest and down the length of his longest
tail feathers. Ashayna had marveled at the design the first time she had seen
him wear the jewels. He hoped it inspired awe in the nobles of society as well.

The soft scuff
of footsteps at the door leading to the other smaller room drew his attention.
A sharp rap followed.

“Are you ready?”
Lamarra called through the door.

“Yes, come.”

Lamarra walked
into the room, followed by Ashayna.

His bondmate
stood with her arms crossed over her chest, a deep frown marring her features.
The slightest current of air ruffled the white feathers affixed to the many
panels of blue silk composing the body of the costume. An elaborate headdress,
like a bejeweled imitation of a bird’s crest, rested on her brow. Wings were
imagined by a long, two-paneled cloak, and pleated fabric formed a stylized
tail. He especially liked how the dress hugged her curves.

“I had it made
for myself,” Lamarra said with a shrug. “But after hearing all Ashayna’s
adventures, I knew she should wear it.”

Sorntar met
Ashayna’s eyes. “The color suits you.”

Ashayna glared
at him defiantly, obviously not in a mood to appreciate his compliment. Before
he could think of a suitable response for her dark look, Lamarra handed him his
cloak and led them from the room without a word. They stopped long enough to
await a carriage’s arrival.

Sorntar stood
outside until the last possible moment and doubted his ability to squeeze into
the small dark compartment. He almost asked to fly, but Lamarra gave him a
scathing look, one which challenged him to deviate from her carefully laid
plans at his peril. Ashayna laughed at his hesitation, and shoved him in the
back. He stumbled into the dark opening.

Within was as
bad as he had imagined. There wasn’t enough room to stand, so he bent at an
awkward angle while he tried unsuccessfully to situate himself. Its narrow
benches looked more like a small ledge, intended for he knew not what. It
certainly wasn’t designed to act as a proper seat. He began to unfurl his wings
to aid his balance and felt the feathers drag unpleasantly against the fabric
covering the walls of the small torture box.

“Problem?”
Ashayna asked in a falsely sweet voice.

“No.” He
answered back just as pleasantly, all the while trying to free his talons from
Lamarra’s hem without drawing attention. After his small victory, he began to
think he might be able to manage until the carriage rolled forward with a
jerking motion. The feathers of his crest had caught in the ceiling window
closure. Another jolt shook the carriage before he could free them and a couple
of his feathers pulled out with a painful twinge.

Ashayna stood
and retrieved two feathers out of the closure, and then sat back down without a
word. With her head down, hiding her expression, she played with the feathers,
stroking them between her fingers. He didn’t need to read her thoughts to know
she was laughing at him.

He perched on
the bench with his wings and tail draped to one side. Even bracing his hands
against the wall and ceiling as best he could, he still feared each rut and
stone the wheel found would throw him to the carriage floor. It was an awkward,
unpleasant ride, but blessedly short. When the door opened, allowing a breeze
in, he barely restrained himself from bolting. With his current luck, he’d
likely trip and land in an undignified heap.

Lamarra exited
first. Ashayna started to follow, but took pity on him and gestured him out
next. He sent her silent thanks as he drew the cloak closer around his
shoulders. Identity hidden as best he could, he turned and offered Ashayna his
arm. She took it with an arched brow.

Two young men
came forward to escort them. Lamarra chased them off with a quiet word. They
backed away with clear looks of bafflement. Before they could question her
unorthodox behavior, she hurried Ashayna and Sorntar forward, stopping once to
hand a paper to a serious-looking man with greying hair and sharp eyes. The
elder read Lamarra’s note once, then a second time before looking to Sorntar
and taking in his incredible height. The man’s skin took on a waxy hue as he
gasped something low and unintelligible. Another sharp word from Lamarra shook
him out of his stupor. With one stern nod, he gathered himself and vanished
within. Sorntar tugged Ashayna forward.

The three
santhyrians flanked them, causing looks of utter surprise on the faces of the
uniformed escorts.

“Last chance to
change our minds,” Ashayna commented dryly. “We could Gate to safety.”

“I didn’t just
endure a ride in that wheeled box for nothing.” His grumbled reply lacked all
humor. He tossed his cloak to one of the startled escorts and guided Ashayna up
the handful of steps and through the door beyond. They arrived just in time to
hear the grey-haired man announce their arrival.

“Lady Lamarra
Stonemantle….” The speaker glanced up to send one long nervous look to someone
at the front of the hall. “And Lady Ashayna Stonemantle, and their honored
guest, Sorntar, Crown Prince of the Phoenix.”

The noise level
within dropped from a noisy babble to complete quiet, the smell of shock so
strong Sorntar could almost taste it. Soon the first soft murmurs broke the
thick silence. They continued to grow in volume and number until he entered the
hall, forcing Ashayna to keep pace.

At the sight of
him, many made sounds of surprise and fear. A few women fainted, dropping where
they stood, while others waved fans almost violently. At least there wasn’t
mass hysteria.

Looking to the
front of the hall, he found Erinic Stonemantle standing with his palms flat
against the stone table, his wintry stare exactly as Sorntar recalled.

Ashayna stepped
between them with arms spread. “Father, Prince Sorntar is here at my request. I
wanted to visit with my family. He was gracious enough to offer me a way.”

The general
lifted one eyebrow. “Why was it necessary for someone as… important…as the
crown prince to come? Does he not have more vital things to attend to?”

“No doubt he
does, but I can hardly grow my own wings and fly back here, now can I?” Her
words grew harsh. “I’ll not have you insulting my guest. If it is your wish to
have us gone, then leave we shall.”

General
Stonemantle moved out from behind the table and joined them. He continued to
stare grimly at his daughter. “I don’t want you to go. Besides, the family
would drive me forth as well.” He gave one gruff laugh and pulled her to him
for a brief hug. He soon broke it off and gazed at Sorntar. “Crown Prince
Sorntar, you are welcome in my home, for you have returned my daughter to me,
even if it is only for a short time. How long will you stay?”

Sorntar was
certain the question was not asked in innocence. He chose his next words with
care. “The council granted Ashayna one moon’s cycle, then we must return.”

Ashayna jumped
in the conversation. “Enough questions for now, father. You can ask them later.
While I’m here perhaps some of the nobles of our empire can socialize with one
of the races that share this land. The santhyrians—those which look remarkably
like horses to our human eyes—are good friends of mine.” Ashayna proceeded to
introduce Sorntar and the three santhyrians to various nobles. After a number
of fear-filled silences and awkward greetings, they made their way to where
Lamarra had joined Sorsha and Lady Stonemantle.

“Sorntar,
beware my mother. No doubt she has plans about marriage. You are, after all, a
prince, one of the highest orders of nobility,” Ashayna said in warning.

Lady
Stonemantle proved surprisingly level-headed, controlling the situation with a
deft hand, taking everything in stride. His bondmate’s description of her was
flawed, by what he could tell. Lady Stonemantle took his arm when he offered
it, without even a brief hesitation. The next few candlemarks were much more
relaxed.

When the
dancing began, he wasn’t surprised or upset none were brave enough to approach
him. On one of the quiet times between dance sets, when the musicians were
refreshing themselves, he took the opportunity to sit with the general and his
wife at their table. “You know I am here on more than Ashayna’s request. I’m
here to find a more permanent solution to our people’s problem.”

“I’m listening,”
the general replied.

“If we are to
share this land without bloodshed, there are only two ways to do that. Become
better acquainted or ignore each other completely. This uneasy truce is not the
answer. The Elementals could welcome open trade and commerce, or to have
nothing else to do with you. You would be bound to stay within these limited
lands, hunting what ventured in from the lands beyond, and you would be
dependent on what your empire could provide to you by ship. All communication
between our races would be completely severed.” He glanced pointedly in Ashayna’s
direction where she stood with Lamarra and Sorsha. “But my mother does favor
forging longer lasting ties.”

The general
held his stony silence. Sorntar sipped at his goblet, his wine warm and spicy
on his tongue. It would be pleasant enough under normal circumstances, but
tonight he was too tense to get any enjoyment from either food or drink.

Lady
Stonemantle leaned forward and gestured for a servant to refill his goblet.
Sorntar focused on her and realized she watched him with more calculation than
did the general. He scrutinized his last words and he remembered Ashayna’s
joking warning.

“Crown Prince
Sorntar, you say we should forge ties and become more closely acquainted or
ignore each other. I will be blunt. Would a treaty sealed by a political
marriage create the needed stability?”

Sorntar froze,
and then continued with more caution. “That would be more complicated than you
might imagine.”

“Is peace not
worth the effort, even if the situation is complicated?” Lady Stonemantle
smiled and looked at a spot beyond his shoulder.

The general
followed his wife’s gaze, his expression thoughtful. Sorntar instinctively
turned and saw Ashayna, Sorsha, and Lamarra partaking in a circle dance with a
number of other women. Ashayna’s expression was blatantly sour. Clearly she’d
been pulled into the dance by her family. He smiled, letting his eyes follow
Ashayna as she moved around the floor. His eyes lingered a moment more before
turning back to Lady Stonemantle.

She gave him a
knowing look. “I fail to see any complications, especially if the two
candidates are chosen from noble bloodlines. The Stonemantle name is old and
has married into the royal line on more than one occasion.”

Sorntar cleared
his throat. “Perhaps a more lasting solution can be found, but I fear we are
getting ahead of ourselves. My elders merely suggested opening trade between
our peoples as a starting point.”

“Go on.” The
general’s body language was friendlier, and his expression had relaxed by a
small degree. If Sorntar wasn’t mistaken, the general found the whole situation
more amusing than stressful.

Sorntar talked
of trade agreements and land until the night was long advanced.

Before Lady
Stonemantle could launch into another conversation about the benefits of a
political marriage, Sorntar stood. “If you will excuse me, it has been a long
night and a tiring journey. Might I encroach upon your hospitality for a place
to rest?”

The general
nodded, calling a servant over to show Sorntar to his rooms. At the servant boy’s
timid approach, Sorntar gave him one quick smile in reassurance. Then,
following behind the boy, Sorntar fled the hall before more questions could be
asked of him, or a marriage contract drawn up. Ashayna would pluck him if she
found out he’d fallen into her mother’s trap so easily. Then she’d start
thinking up worse things when she realized he was contemplating the idea.

After her third
jaw-splitting yawn, Sorsha and Lamarra allowed Ashayna to seek her bed. Before
Ashayna retired for the night, she needed to speak with Sorntar to see he was
settled. It had absolutely nothing to do with missing him, she assured herself.

He had retired
long before, pleading exhaustion. Though she would bet her favorite hunting bow
that more than just the curious stares and endless questioning had driven him
from the banquet hall, or any pointed questions her mother could toss his way.
Ashayna sighed. Sorntar was not the only one endlessly questioned. The press of
society, measuring her every move, wasn’t something she had missed in her time
away. And she had given them fuel for their gossip arriving with Sorntar. With
a grimace, Ashayna decided she would rather deal with rogue Elementals.

The hall turned
sharply, forcing her to go around the corner blindly. She cursed the house’s
design that put two rooms side by side, yet still managed to have their doors
open onto different hallways. She doubted there were enough excuses in the
world to save what remained of her reputation if she was caught sneaking into
Sorntar’s quarters.

Thankfully,
Sorsha’s room and her own sleeping quarters were in close enough proximity to
where Sorntar stayed to satisfy their bond’s need for closeness for a short
time.

“Then why am I
wandering the halls at night?” She muttered to herself. “Oh yes, I’m a great
fool.” It was easier to berate herself for foolish notions than face the deep
unease stirring in her middle with chilled tendrils. Whenever she was parted
from Sorntar, something stirred within. Loneliness or a deep aching need, she
wasn’t sure what to call it, but she didn’t like the sensation or the fact she
depended on him to bring her peace.

A pale light
ringed Sorntar’s door. The latch gave under her hand, and the door opened on
its silent, well-oiled hinges. Sorntar stood with his back to the fire. His
stony expression held not even a hint of emotion. Uncertain of her welcome, as
he had been shielding all evening and she hadn’t wished to intrude, Ashayna
gave him a weak smile.

“He wishes to
keep something from you,” Sorntar said and tilted his head sideways to study
her, a slight frown darkening his expression.

“Who?”

“Sorntar.”

Ashayna’s smile
froze. The one standing in front of her spoke with Sorntar’s voice and moved as
he would, but she knew who stood before her. “Larnkin.” To her relief, her
voice remained level. Though she imagined he could read what she did not say.
She feared him.

“I have a name.
You would know it if you ever tried to communicate with me.” His words were
spoken in steady serious tones, akin to how Sorntar spoke but haughtier. “You
have vast power at your command. It wouldn’t hurt for you to practice. Your
life may depend on it.”

He watched her
with an unreadable expression. The cold unease in her middle uncoiled another
tendril. With every muscle at attention she waited, fighting the urge to call
her own power, and knowing it would never be enough, for this one was far
stronger and she had no hope, no possible chance to subdue him.

“You must bear
with me, ancient one.” Ashayna bowed, keeping her eyes downcast in what she
hoped he’d interpret as a gesture of respect. “You say you have a name, one I
should know, but in my defense all I can tell you is the truth. I know nothing
of you and my control over my powers cannot be trusted.”

When the Larnkin
remained silent, she looked at him through her lashes and tried again. “I’ve
never reached out to you on my own for I feared to insult you with my clumsy
use of magic.”

He made a soft
humming sound and raised one elegant eyebrow. “You speak prettily, if not
altogether truthfully, and while you
are
inept at magic, I have another
concern. You fear me. I cannot have that.”

In a blink, he
was at her side, both her hands clasped in a gentle embrace. He drew them to
his lips. The slight pressure of talons revealed he would accept no argument.
He kissed the back of each in a gallant manner before he turned them over and
brushed his thumbs across both palms. She felt the tingling of magic as the
Oracle Stone’s brand became visible on the one palm. He studied it in silence
for long moments before releasing her.

His thoughts
were shielded and she couldn’t read his expression, so in desperation she
continued with the small talk. “What shall I call you?”

“In the tongue
of my kind, Truth Made Anew: Itharann.”

“Itharann.” She
rolled his name on her lips. “You told me Sorntar wished to keep something from
me. What is so lurid that Sorntar is unwilling to speak of it?”

“Lurid?” He
laughed. “I wouldn’t go so far as that, but then again you might think a
stronger word is in order. Lady Stonemantle has convinced your father a
political marriage between humans and Elementals isn’t as outlandish as he
first thought.”

That was the Larnkin’s
reason for this visit? Ashayna’s mind whirled. It made no sense. “That’s no
surprise. My mother loves games of power. By her logic, one of her daughters,
being of the eldest noble house, should marry an Elemental of suitable
bloodline to forge a lasting peace treaty.”

“A near
accurate guess.”

“And Sorntar,
having been warned, should have expected this and subtly deflected the topic to
safer ground.” Her stomach tensed when Itharann didn’t immediately agree. “He
did explain the complications, I hope.”

“He mentioned
them, but I fear my host was no match for your mother. Sorntar betrayed himself
with a simple look, and she was able to sniff out that he was not opposed to
the idea of marrying you. Survival instincts won out in the end, and Sorntar
removed himself from your mother’s presence before she could have a marriage
contract drawn up.” Itharann chuckled. The warm sound sent a shiver down her
spine.

Pacing helped
to burn away the shock. Sorntar wasn’t against the idea of marriage?

“I’m glad you
find this amusing.” Her temper flared. “Why didn’t he tell me?” She paced
around the room, neither looking at nor expecting Itharann to answer her. “I
could’ve prevented this complication. Now it’s going to be a mess.”

She’d warned
Sorntar not to blunder into her mother’s trap, but it hadn’t occurred to her
Sorntar might willingly sacrifice himself in a marriage contract, and he’d
managed to drag her into the mess with him. What a nightmare.

“Marriage is
such a serious matter, so much more dangerous than bonding.” Itharann’s voice
was tinted with dry humor.

Even the
ancient Larnkin was making fun of her. Ashayna glowered at him, but he ignored
her. “It’s the fact he didn’t tell me. I should be hearing this from Sorntar—in
the form of a heartfelt apology for providing fuel to my mother.”

“Don’t be angry
with Sorntar,” Itharann said as he eyed the bed for a moment and then sat down.
“He’s young and so very confused by you. His desire clouds his judgment. I only
told you because there should be no secrets between bondmates and this one
would cause Sorntar much worry. Now you know and can prevent things from
getting out of hand. This situation is so unimportant it’s barely worthy of
thought.”

“Fine. So
Sorntar is innocent. I’ll forgive him. Now, what about you?”

The Larnkin
gave her a questioning look.

Ashayna frowned
at Itharann, seriously in doubt about his innocence. “If I could figure out a
reason why, I’d say you were trying to cause tension between me and Sorntar.”

Itharann’s
expression turned smug. He reclined on the bed with one arm behind his head,
utterly relaxed. “While we’re debating guilt and innocence, why don’t I show
you just what your oh-so-virtuous bondmate dreams of.” Itharann grabbed her
wrist and pulled her down onto the bed with him. “Enjoy Sorntar’s dream,
beloved.”

One short
muffled scream escaped her before the room faded and fell away. A luxurious
bedroom suffused with soft, golden candlelight took its place. Cool air raised
the hair on her arms. Ashayna glanced down at herself. Clothed in a short cream
nightgown, she might as well have been naked for all the cover her sheer gown
offered.

“Itharann—get
me out of here.”

Silence greeted
her mind call. After several futile attempts to call the Larnkin, she gave up.

The sweet
fragrance of bee’s wax teased her nose. She looked around in more detail.

Candles sat in
glass holders, scattered randomly around the room upon dark walnut book
shelves. Thick carpets of a similar deep earth shade covered the floor while
intricate tapestries hung on the walls, softening the cold stone. Two windows
allowed the moons’ radiance to blend gracefully with golden candlelight. A
large bed stood at room’s center, and at the rear of the bedroom a doorway led
to another chamber.

Taking one
hesitant step after another, she crossed the room and gazed into the second,
steam-filled chamber. A bathing pool surrounded by gauzy drapes took up most of
the floor. It was unoccupied, the waters smooth, but several windows were
propped open, allowing the night breeze to play with the drapes along the back
wall. They fluttered open, giving her flashes of an alcove complete with wide
padded benches. Sorntar reclined on one.

The deep
resonance of his cooing told of his intense enjoyment. A blush burned along her
cheeks, and she looked away. Sorntar deserved privacy, these were his dreams.
She wouldn’t like it if he invaded hers.

He mumbled
something low in a deep throaty voice and her resolve broke. Her gaze snapped
back to the drapes. The night breeze indulged her wickedness and pushed at the
drapes with renewed vigor. Sorntar still reclined on a bench, one freshly oiled
wing spread out drying.

Her heart
thundered in her chest. Unable to resist, Ashayna drew closer. The curtain blew
back, exposing more of his body. Muscles rippled under his dark skin as he shifted
positions and tucked his wing back in place, revealing a cloaked figure she
hadn’t realized was there.

The same breeze
that toyed with the drapes, shifted the woman’s robes by times and flashed
glimpses of her nakedness.

A woman shared
the alcove with him.

Jealousy, hot
and ugly, erupted in Ashayna’s soul.

She took three
steps forward. Then fisting her hands at her side, she forced herself to stop.
It was Sorntar’s dream, which made it none of her damn business.

Damnation, but
she wanted to know the identity of that other female partaking in mutual
grooming with Sorntar.

The mysterious
woman rested one hand on his shoulder and the other braced on his bent knee and
she leaned forward for a kiss.

“Ash,” Sorntar
growled out his partner’s name against her lips.

Anger and
resentment vanished so fast, they left Ashayna weak-kneed and shaking.

Through a veil
of gauzy fabric, she watched her dream self unclasp the cloak and straddle
Sorntar’s powerful thighs. He reached up and drew her face down to his for
another kiss, and this one possessed a smoldering heat that promise to end only
in one way. At his gentle urging, the other Ash shifted farther forward on his
lap, positioning herself over him. Even from a distance, Ashayna saw Sorntar’s
dark lashes flutter shut as he sighed out a deep groan of pleasure.

Ashayna
swallowed hard. Her own breath sped from her lungs in response to that
passionate sound. When her legs threatened to collapse, she forced them to hold
her upright.

“Itharann,
get me out of here.”
She yearned to shout at the
manipulative Larnkin, but didn’t want Sorntar to become aware, so settled for
hissing under her breath instead.
“Now.”

Itharann chuckled.
“Little scout, you can stay or go as you please. The choice is yours. If you
want to escape, simply show yourself and tell Sorntar the truth. He’ll free you
from his dream.”

“Now? I can’t
go to him now. He’s a little busy.”
She furrowed
her eyebrows.
“Why are you doing this?”

“Because you
and he both have a flair for making things harder than they need be. You must
stop hiding things from each other and learn the value of trust.”

“There’s got
to be a better way.”

“Perhaps, but
this is more entertaining. By the way, this is Sorntar’s dream about your
wedding night. Your mother’s talk of weddings gave him ideas.”

“Itharann.”

“Yes?”

“You’re an
ass.”

“You might
want to save name calling for later. You’ve got company.”
With that he vanished from her mind.

“Where did you
go?” Sorntar’s husky voice washed across her ear. “You were there one moment
and gone the next.”

“I…” she
stammered.

Strong arms
embraced her from behind. He dipped his head and nibbled at her shoulder. With
a deep, heated sigh, Sorntar pressed against her back. She held herself rigid
for a moment until she realized the only way to hide was to be at the center of
attention. If she played it right, Sorntar would never know this was anything
more than a dream. She closed her eyes, sinking into the sensations. The heat
of his body beckoned, and she realized she might not need to act.