Betrayal's Price (In Deception's Shadow Book 1) (23 page)

She turned in
his arms, and stroked fingers down his chest, over hot, smooth skin and hard
muscle—warm and real, nothing like a dream. He shivered under her touch.

His thick
lashes rose slightly. Passion-darkened eyes regarded her with a look of
desperate hunger.

“Beloved, why
did you leave me? Did I not please you?” His voice was velvet against her
breast bone, stirring heat in her blood to the point where she couldn’t think.
“Or am I simply demanding too much too soon?”

She swallowed
hard, fighting for control. Honor screamed that this was Sorntar’s dream, and
she was invading his privacy. She needed to leave now, or tell the truth. It
was on the tip of her tongue. She looked up into his eyes...and saw his uncertainty
and hunger.

Her resistance
unraveled. “You please me very much. It’s just…I was overwhelmed…and scared.”

“Don’t be.”
Sorntar’s arms encircled her waist. “I’ll always be here for you.”

She rested a
hand on his chest as she leaned up to kiss him. His lips claimed hers. He
tasted of passion and fire and Sorntar. Eager and yet uncertain, he slowly eased
more of his weight against her. With a sigh, she leaned into his embrace,
everything forgotten but the man holding her.

* * * *

Ashayna awoke
with a jerk, the memory of the dream fresh.

“Ah, you’re
awake. Good. I’m tiring and Sorntar will wake soon.”

A hand rubbed
the small of her back in a gentle caress. Sorntar’s Larnkin. Itharann. Heat
swirled through her core as memories returned. Had they actually done those
things, or was it all a dream?

“Dream,”
Itharann confirmed. “And I had no idea you were such a passionate little thing.
What do you think my host would have done if he’d woken with you atop him?
Fully dressed or not, I don’t think it would have mattered. Though,” he said,
sounding thoughtful, “your mother might actually have preferred that outcome,
as she could go ahead and start planning that wedding she’s been sniffing
after.”

Ashayna lifted
her head and gasped when she realized she was straddling Itharann.

“Now, don’t
wiggle. You’ll arouse him again.” Itharann chuckled. “Unless that’s your plan?
If so, I think I’ll just retire from playing chaperon.”

“No.” Ashayna
rolled off him. “Please. He’ll not understand…I…I had no right to invade his
dream like that. It’ll complicate things too much. You shouldn’t have sent me
there.”

“You didn’t
have to join in.”

“What else
could I have done?”

“I honestly
didn’t think you would yield so fast.” Itharann frowned at her. “I’d expected
your stubborn Stonemantle will to overcome a case of lust, and then you and
Sorntar would talk, laugh at the small things pushing you apart and learn to
trust each other. Hum…well, then I did expect you might engage in a little
healthy foreplay.”

“I don’t care
what you thought.” She needed to leave, to think far away from the sight of
Sorntar. She ran her fingers through her hair, then tidied her clothing. It
still felt like the glow of her skin would give away what she’d done. “Sorntar
won’t understand. You will not tell him. You’ve caused me enough problems.” Her
life was spinning out of control. Panic lurked in the shadows of her mind.
Sorntar would want more. He’d want her heart and soul along with her body.

He’d just
proven her body was easy to win over, and her heart was following along in
alarming fashion. But her soul? Ashayna remembered the story of the Destroyer,
uncertain if she had one. A shiver raced up her spine.

The Larnkin’s
expression softened as his amusement fled. “Very well. I’ll keep your secret.
Though I think you’re making a mistake. Secrets tend to breed trouble.”

She couldn’t
tell him the real reason for her fear, so she told a half-truth. “I’m not ready
to take this further. I don’t want to hurt Sorntar, but my rejection would do
just that. I know you think my fear over a wedding is silly compared to the
dangers of bonding early. And yes, it is, but I need to feel like I have at
least a little control over my own fate. Of late, my whole life has whirled out
of control. I can’t deal with anything more right now.”

“Easy, Ash.”
Itharann stroked her hair out of her face. “I protect what’s mine. And Sorntar
isn’t your enemy either. You have nothing to fear from him.”

“But he’ll hate
me for my deception.”

“No he won’t.
Trust me. Go back to your rooms. I’ll stay long enough to clean up.”

Ashayna groaned
in embarrassment, but found her voice. “You’re certain Sorntar won’t know.”

“Not unless you
decide to tell him. In which case, he’ll likely go looking for your mother and
sign that marriage contract before you have a chance to blink. But hate won’t
be one of the things he’s thinking about when he does it.” Itharann chuckled,
his voice warming. “Go. He’ll not know there was more to this than a heated
dream.”

Ashayna didn’t
stay to hear more and fled the room.

The nineteenth
day of Sorntar’s visit to River’s Divide looked to be as dreary as the first
eighteen days.

Shortly after
waking on the second day of his stay, he’d discovered coastal monsoons had
arrived in the night. Enchanted, he’d watched as the heavy rains painted misty
halos around every object. It had been pretty, before it occurred to him what
such weather would mean to him and his freedom. The rains were too heavy for
pleasure flying or hunting; and, lacking those excuses, he’d been forced to
attend more social events.

After he’d
blundered into revealing his feelings for Ashayna, Lady Stonemantle had taken a
special interest in him, clearly concluding that—wings, feathers, and magic
aside—he was a candidate for a political marriage. On more than one occasion he
had nearly run out of the room to escape Lady Stonemantle’s thinly-veiled
questioning in order to keep the peace. Few in his acquaintance were as
single-mindedly determined to shape a situation to a desired outcome as that
small, tenacious woman. Inevitably she would continue their conversation at
their next meeting. More disturbing was the certainty his Larnkin found it all
very amusing. While Ashayna’s prickliness was part of her character, and he had
come to find her little jibes and snide remarks endearing, he wasn’t so sure he
could tolerate such a personality in his Larnkin.

He suspected
Ashayna had somehow become aware of the situation and was angry at him for
falling into her mother’s trap. There had been many awkward silences between
them of late. As her bondmate, it would have been easy to read her thoughts,
but that would only make her even angrier, so he did nothing and hoped she’d
forgive him soon. He missed the heat growing between them, and he wanted his
fiercely sweet scout back.

Shouting from
the docks drew him from his worry. He scanned the harbor, seeking the cause for
the disturbance. Grey water and grey mist blended into one solid monotone. His
eyes narrowed. Across the distance he could make out a ship limping into port.
As it sailed closer, he noticed its main mast was leaning to one side, its
sails shredded, and a darker shadow marked the ship’s flank.

He turned from
the sight of the dock workers securing the ship, and left the balcony to seek
out Ashayna. It was still early and a quick probe along their bond confirmed
she was asleep. He gave her a gentle push towards wakefulness and watched
through her eyes as she bolted upright. She tangled in her blankets, her
fingers groping for her sword hilt, or whatever weapon would come to hand,
while she looked towards her door for an intruder.

“Ashayna,
peace, I was trying to wake you.”

She groused at
him until he told her about the damaged ship.

“What flag
does it fly?”
Her question was tense and angry.

“I do not
recall the motif, though the colors were red, black, and gold.”

“A black
falcon on a red field? Its feathers edged in golden rays of light?
” Ashayna’s voice thickened with worry, all traces of sleep gone.

“I’ll look
again.”
He returned to the rainy balcony and sought
the ship in the distance. A small trickle of power allowed him to see the flag’s
tattered remains. It was indeed the black falcon of Ashayna’s description.

Before he could
form a response, Ashayna burst into his rooms, still pulling on clothes and
tying laces. She joined him on the balcony to look out over the city and
farther to the port beyond. If her shoulders hunching in frustration was any
indication, her eyes were not sharp enough to see what he saw.

“The flag, what
does it mean?”

“We’re in
trouble. It’s Lord-Master Trensler and his men. We received a message over a
moon’s cycle ago; the Divine Speaker has set loose one of his scent hounds. I
never dreamed he would make the journey in such good time.”

“It looks as if
they nearly didn’t make the crossing at all.”

“If we had only
been so lucky.”

“How bad is
this?”

“You don’t care
for my father’s way of thinking. Now imagine someone a hundred times stricter
in what he believes, with the certainty he serves Divine will.” Ashayna laughed
at his expression.

He was glad
there were no mirrors within sight. Seems he still had something to learn from
his mother when it came to hiding his thoughts. “Then he’ll not care for me or
my kind. Will I be forced to draw my sword against this human?”

“No. His
preferred weapons are words and he has turned lies and deceit into an art.
Beware what you say, and say nothing at all of your people’s beliefs.
Lord-Master Trensler will try to trick you into saying something damning. With
tensions between the acolytes and the Crown being as they are, this could be
all the Divine Speaker needs to justify a rebellion.”

“I’ll be very
careful.” Sorntar reached out and tugged at a snag in Ashayna’s sleep mussed
hair. She glowered at him. Flushing, he pulled his hand back. “You should go before
someone finds you here.”

* * * *

He wasn’t
summoned into General Stonemantle’s presence until mid-morning. When the call
came, it didn’t surprise him to find it would be a private meeting with a few
officials. Sorntar rubbed at the dull ache in his temples. Thankfully, his Larnkin-induced
headache decreased in strength as the nervous guard led him to General
Stonemantle’s private council chambers. Ashayna had arrived ahead of him, and
relayed what she was able to gather from the room of closed-mouthed men. It was
little enough.

One of the ever-present
man servants opened the door at the guard’s polite knock. The murmur of voices
died as Sorntar entered.

This silence
was different than the one that had greeted his arrival at the masquerade many
nights ago. Sorntar knew why. Never had humans seen him dressed in full body
armor, with wing-guards strapped to his wings. He’d tucked his helm under one
arm. Rune spells glowed upon its etched metal surface. He didn’t think he would
be waging war against humans this day, but deemed it wise to look like he was
willing to if they decided to act in a foolish manner.

For once
Ashayna approved of the plan. A show of force was needed to impress Lord-Master
Trensler. He respected strength, she’d said, and it was better to dissuade him
from thoughts of conquest from the very beginning.

Focusing on the
others in the room with him, Sorntar found three men with whom he was not
familiar. One, older than the others, bore himself with a stern dignity
tempered with an indulgent smile. He would have struck Sorntar as the most
charismatic one in the room, if it wasn’t for the dark emotion lurking in his
eyes when he studied Ashayna. Sorntar stopped six paces away from the seated
humans. The stranger—Sorntar assumed this human was Lord-Master Trensler—regarded
him in a studying way.

Whatever the
human saw must have pleased him more than looking upon Ashayna, for Trensler
stood and bowed. “I am honored to meet one of the other races who share this
land, and doubly blessed to meet one of royalty. Never did I dream to meet one
of your people when my ship limped into shore this morning, but here we find
ourselves by Divine Will.”

While General
Stonemantle made introductions, Sorntar studied Trensler. He was tall for a
human, as tall as Ashayna, if of a slighter build. Sorntar didn’t doubt
Trensler would be quick to use his frail-looking appearance to better his ends,
but it was the bitter-scented magic humming around the human that concerned
him. Sorntar sent a tendril of magic towards Ashayna, but the power dissipated
almost at once. A chill descended on him. He resisted the urge to rub his arms.
The sensation passed as fast as it had come, but a twinge of worry still
knotted in his stomach.

“Ashayna.”
Sorntar poured more strength into his mental touch.

She glanced in
his direction.
“I can barely hear you,”
she replied, her mental voice as
clear as always.
“What’s wrong?”

“I’m not
sure. There is a magic user here. Can you feel anything?”

“No. I sense
nothing, though Trensler has always set my nerves on edge.”

“Perhaps it’s
my Larnkin. We are still newly bonded and that is a strange time.”

A throat being
cleared drew Sorntar’s attention back to the roomful of humans.

“You speak for
your mother, who is your ruling queen?” Although Lord-Master Trensler spoke in
polite tones, it was impossible to miss his slight disdain on the word queen. “And
your race wishes peace with us, if at all possible?”

“That is
correct in part. Any final decisions will be made by my mother and the council.
I will relay everything of value to them.” Sorntar shook free of the strange
numbness that had taken hold of his Larnkin. His mind clear again, Sorntar
countered with a question of his own. “What brings one of such high position,
if I understand the hierarchy correctly, to our land at such dangerous times?
When you first started out nothing was known of our intentions. Only recently
has a temporary peace been forged. I do not want you to misunderstand my words
or their meaning, but unless I am misinformed, you would have made a very
valuable hostage.”

The Lord-Master
chuckled with warmth—it did not reach his eyes, Sorntar noted—and made
fluttering motions with his hands. “You are correct, had you been able to
capture me I would have made a good hostage, but the spiritual welfare of the
people must come first. I like to think events turned out as they have for a
reason and thus, we should not waste this opportunity.”

* * * *

Another two
candlemark’s worth of questions and tedium passed before Sorntar secured
Lord-Master Trensler’s agreement that a long term peace was desirable. Finally
Trensler stood to take his leave, pleading he had much to see to before full
dark. The Lord-Master held his hand out to Sorntar.

Sorntar looked
upon the gesture with some surprise. He’d become familiar with human gestures
of good parting, but hadn’t expected it from this particular human. Grasping
the wrinkled and aged spotted hand in his, Sorntar felt the human’s chilled
skin begin to warm after a moment. A breath more and a chill began to creep
into Sorntar’s hand. The human released Sorntar before he could react to the
strange sensation.

With relief, he
followed the others as they filed out of the small cramped room. The leader of
the acolytes commanded some unknown power, for it had buzzed along Sorntar’s
skin and against his shields throughout the meeting. And the slight chill
accompanying the handshake, he hadn’t imagined that. This was something his mother
needed to know.

It was time to
return home.

* * * *

The wind tore
at stray pieces of hair long escaped from her braid. Flying on phoenix-back
offered escape she needed after being in the company of Lord-Master Trensler.
Sorntar had been ordered home as soon as his mother found out about Trensler’s
strange magic. Ashayna was more than willing to do anything if it involved
avoiding the Lord-Master. Her initial concern for her family was put at ease
when she’d learned Winter’s Frost, Shadowdancer, and Summer Flame would remain
behind, and within a few days another three elementals would be coming to
continue shaping the human-elemental trade agreement Sorntar had started. If
the elders discovered any danger, they would send Lamarra and Sorsha to join
Old Mother’s family to live under the protection of the santhyrian nation.
Surely six elementals could protect her friends and family.

Sorntar dipped
a wingtip as he chased an escaping thermal. The slight change drew Ashayna back
to the present. Flying also offered another bit of relief. With Sorntar in his
bird form, it was easier to pretend there was nothing between them. She’d kept
her shields up every moment they were together since she’d first joined his
dream. While Sorntar seemed suspicious about something, he hadn’t found out
about the embarrassing dream incident. Realizing where her thoughts headed, she
focused on the landscape instead.

The trees below
were a green blur as Sorntar flew at top speed, maintaining a short distance
above the canopies. While she’d been deep in thought, the city of Grey
Spires had grown larger in the distance. Soon she’d be home.

Sorntar
stiffened, and Ashayna felt another’s magic touch him. After a moment, she
realized someone was talking with him mind to mind. When the magic ebbed, he
turned his head to watch her out of the corner of his eye.

“Sorntar, what’s
wrong?”

His reply was
slow in coming. “I’ve just received news from my father.”

“Talk to me.”

“He says the
Dead King sent tomb guards to River’s Divide.”

“What? Because
of Trensler?”

“My father
doesn’t know for sure. Sorsha is safe, but Shadowdancer reports one of the tomb
guards took Lamarra.”

Ashayna didn’t
respond to Sorntar’s news. She couldn’t. If she opened her mouth, she’d start
screaming and not stop. This was her fault. If she hadn’t stumbled upon the
Dead King’s domain, he wouldn’t have stolen one of her sisters in her place.