Caller of Light (34 page)

“Then, we have a problem.”

Like a sunburst, Carina stormed the room, her eyes wide with a quiet panic. Marek jumped between her and the other men, shielding her with his body.

Regin’s face clouded. “Although, I find your decision regretful, Carina will do as she is told. Now daughter go pack your belongings. We leave within the hour.”

Marek heard Carina’s small gasp. She tried to step around him, but he kept her tucked behind his back.

“Father, please don’t do this. I want to stay here with Marek.”

Regin shook his head. His eyes narrowed to slits. “I decide what’s best for you, and you
will
come home.”

Except for Carina’s breath puffing out in little, ragged pants, silence filled the room. With her body pressed close, she acted like a buffering wind keeping the brewing tempest inside him at bay. He’d learned to expect the unexpected from Carina, so when her hand touched the small of his back, he readied himself for the consequences of her actions. She peeked around his shoulder because he still wouldn’t let her move away.

Her voice quaked. “So, I can become Villar’s mistress?”

Rage slammed into the cage bars, an inferno blazing to life. His entire body tensed like a coiled urutu about to attack. He clamped his teeth in restraint and clenched his fists, trying not to launch himself at Regin. Adrenaline strengthened his muscles and fortified his body, preparing him to do what was necessary to ensure no one touched her. Regin teetered on the edge of this life.

Regin raised his double chin. “If that’s what I decide.”

Villar unfurled from the chair in a slow, fluid movement just as Marissa entered the room. He beckoned Marissa to him before speaking. “Carina, your father and I have discussed your status as my mistress. My queen also assures me that you’d make a fine addition to the Remy household.”

You are her protector. She’s yours.
The words ripped through Marek’s mind, loud and demanding. A firestorm coursed through his veins. Only Carina’s soothing influence kept him from ripping Villar’s throat open. But even with her reassuring hand, his pulse quickened at the thought of Villar’s blood pooling on the floor.

Somehow, Marek kept his voice steady, concealing what boiled inside him. “Carina is going nowhere. But you will depart immediately and won’t stop until you are off my land. My riders will ensure you do as I’ve commanded.” He nodded to a servant who scurried from the room.

Villar stepped forward, but hesitated when Marek bladed his body and wrapped an arm around Carina, pinning her at his side. Villar placed his goblet on a table and rested a hand on the hilt of his sword. “King McKay has the legal right to recall a daughter he’s given as a mistress. No king will stand beside you when we return to burn your lands.”

“She’s not to remain my mistress.”

“Marek, please—”

Marek silenced Carina by interlacing his fingers within hers and uniting the Critons on their marked palms. Warmth shot up his arm and radiated throughout his body. Carina’s intake of air and wide-eyed expression confirmed she experienced the same rush of energy.

He kissed the back of her hand, and smiled when her lips parted in a silent gasp. A healthy blush flamed her cheeks.

He cleared his throat. A nervous apprehension burned in his belly for having to discuss such a private matter in front of an audience.

****

Marek smiled and the world around Carina stilled. She never thought she would fall in love. But the Gods had blessed her with a beautiful gift. They’d given her Marek—a man who could soothe her mind with a whisper and steel her heart with a touch. He couldn’t meet her gaze as he rubbed her hands with his thumbs in a slow, lazy rhythm. His sudden uncertainty made him more endearing.

Damon and Caden burst into the room and stood on either side of the door—two pillars of raw strength harboring steel. They remained alert, waiting for Marek’s command. Both men glanced at Carina, their eyes unwavering. Their presence reassured her just as Marek’s next words knocked the air from her lungs.

“This is not how I wanted to ask you.” He rolled his eyes toward the others in the room. “And you need to know I made my decision before yesterday.”

She nodded, realizing he was referring to what happened on the mountain with Naya.

“From the moment I first saw you on Mira’s back, diving down the cliff face and racing toward the forest floor, no one has ever bewitched me as you have. I’m drawn to you like no other.” He paused and seemed at a loss for words.

Carina heard a loud hiss from Regin when Marek mentioned her Criton riding, but Father’s presence was a distant buzz at the back of her mind. Marek commandeered her attention.

The sun filtering into the room caressed Marek’s face, accentuating the flecks in his penetrating eyes, eyes that could spy upon her soul. She lost herself within his gaze. The room narrowed until only one man existed.

He caressed her cheek. “But, as I look back, I think the Gods sent me to find you, so together we could save each other.” He pulled her close until their bodies touched and stroked her face before entwining his hand in her hair.

Her body flared at his touch, her core temperature jumping upward in large increments. Unable to resist, she brushed her thumb across his bottom lip. His mouth fascinated her. She smiled, remembering the pleasure those talented lips could elicit from her.

“Carina.” He whispered her name like a hallowed word.

A longing rose within her, an ache only Marek could fulfill. She held onto rational thought by a sliver of thread. If he didn’t get to the point soon, her overheated blood would scorch through the wispy string, the only thing keeping her from dragging him upstairs. A sly grin spread across his lips.
Could he read her mind?

“Will you be my wife and queen for the entire world to witness?”

Her heart thumped two full beats then stopped altogether. A ringing in her ears made it difficult to concentrate.

Marek bent his head and whispered, “Carina, my love. Will you marry me?”

Chills ran down her body. “You want me to be your queen?”

His eyes sparkled. “No. I want you to be my wife first, then my queen.”

She shook her head, trying to clear her mind from an onslaught of emotion. She wanted nothing more, but wavered.

“Now, see here—” King McKay choked on his words when Damon’s blade appeared at his throat.

“What about Nareen?” she blurted.

A soft smile crinkled his eyes. “I’ll talk to mother. She’s not happy here. I should’ve released her years ago so she could go home.”

Uncontrollable tremors racked her body. Fairytales didn’t come true. She must be sleeping, lost in a wonderful dream. She opened her mouth then snapped it shut. Somewhere along her journey she’d given herself to this man. Everything she had to offer was his to take.

Worry deepened the lines around his eyes and his smile disappeared. Did she cause his concern? She didn’t want to be the reason for his discomfort. He’d rescued her from a life of solitude and loneliness. This man standing before her was her savior, her world. Her lips curved into a small smile at the thought of becoming his wife.

Marek growled, and rested his forehead against hers. “Woman, you drive me crazy. Answer me.”

She cupped his cheek with her hand. “Aye, Marek Duncan. I’ll marry you.”

Marek’s grin lit up his entire face. He gathered her in his arms and swung her around, laughing. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and although tears played at the corners of her eyes, laughed with him. Before he stopped their wild spinning, his lips ravished her mouth, everyone in the room forgotten. When her wobbly legs touched the ground, only his embrace kept her from falling.

The hair on the back of her neck rose, warning her of the eyes stabbing into her back like twin blades. She turned to confront the man she would’ve loved as a father if only he could have offered her a tiny place in his heart.

Regin looked like a volcano about to spew fire. His white-knuckled fists trembled at his sides, and his lips were compressed into such a thin line, they were almost nonexistent. She used to shrivel at her father’s aggressive posture, but now she kept her head high and her back stiff. She would never cower from this man again.

Marek’s voice rumbled through her, a soothing presence standing at her back with his hands resting on her shoulders in a possessive display.

“King McKay, you no longer have authority over Carina. She’s to become my wife and queen. And Villar, neighboring alliances
will
aid a king whose queen has been threatened.”

Villar spoke with a calm assuredness. “But only if the union has been blessed by the father of the betrothed. And I doubt Regin intends to give his permission.”

Carina lifted her chin. The words burned in the back of her throat, hot and eager to escape her lips. Her eyes raked over everyone in the room, demanding their attention. “Regin McKay isn’t my father,” she announced with a confidence that shattered the hushed silence.

Marissa gasped and flung her hand to her chest. Her bottom lip trembled as she looked at Regin, anticipating his response. Carina didn’t know if fear or excitement spurred her half sister’s reaction.

The color drained from Regin’s face. “How dare you make such an accusation,” he stammered. “I should lay a strap to your back for your insolence.”

The rumble building in Marek’s chest reverberated through her body as the snarl escaped his mouth. She turned to restrain him, but Caden stepped in front of them before she could act. Caden raised the hilt of his blade partially out of the scabbard to expose the top half of the glimmering weapon. Carina had never seen such malice etched across the mild-mannered warrior’s face.

“You will not speak to the daughter of Alaine Springborn in such a manner if you wish to keep your tongue attached inside your mouth.”

Regin’s jowls jiggled as he shook his head. “What in bloody Haden are you talking about?”

Marek’s deep throated laugh burbled through his body and echoed across the room. “You’re such a fool, Regin. You had the Caller under your nose for twenty-two years and never knew it.”

King Remy edged forward, his black eyes shiny. “The Caller,” he whispered.

Villar’s closeness oozed across Carina’s senses like a thick, slow-moving sludge. She resisted the urge to shrink away as her skin pebbled from a sudden chill.

Regin looked ill. A green tinge rimmed his mouth. His eyes were glazed and a noticeable wheeze accompanied his breathing. “But she’s the daughter of a servant,” he mumbled.

Metal clearing leather whooshed through the air a moment before Caden’s blade caught the fading light spilling in from the windows. “She’s a full blood royal princess of the Tiwan Tribe, and you’ll show her respect.”

Regin stared at Carina in disbelief. Carina supposed she should have felt vindicated in some way after all the years vying for his attention and love. But pity encircled her heart for the aged man standing before her, and for wonderful memories that could have been, but never would be.

Marek called to Damon and Caden. Both men approached. Caden’s sword glistened in the light while Damon’s fingers encircled the hilt of his blade. “Ensure they are well beyond my border before you return.”

“Aye, Sire.” They answered in unison.

Regin shuffled toward the door. Carina expected him to say something, but he ignored her. A shiver slithered down her spine when Villar’s eyes skimmed over her as he passed by. Marissa, never one to leave a room without speaking, broke the stillness.

“You always were a foolish girl.”

“I’m sorry your life didn’t turn out the way you wanted,” Carina murmured. She hadn’t meant for her remark to cause such a reaction, but Marissa’s face paled and Villar’s eyes darkened like a rising storm.

After the room emptied, Marek enfolded her in his arms and pulled her into his chest. She tipped her face against his shoulder and nuzzled underneath his chin. His strong heartbeat thrummed in her ear as she reached up to caress the back of his neck.

“Marek?”

“Aye, luv.”

She smiled at his endearment. “Do you think they’ll declare war against you?”

“Against us,” he corrected. “Threatening to go to war is very different from starting one. But if they do, we’ll be ready.”

Together they stared out the window and watched the sun disappear below the horizon.

44 – CALL of the MATRIARCH

Carina stood with a foot propped on the bottom fence post, looking across a large pasture. Grazing ovine dotted the grassy landscape. Occasional bleats from a young kid who had strayed too far from its mother pierced the silence while the older animals settled down for the night.

With the constant arrival of unbonded Critons, Marek had started stocking his pastures again. But she barely noticed the ovine dotting the field like white powder-puffs. The beautiful sunset with its brilliant colors streaming through the sky captured her attention, like an artist had thrown his watercolors across the canvas, blurring the vibrant hues into a once in a lifetime creation. The breathtaking view bathed her in peace.

The day had been stressful at Stirrlan. Nareen had departed with her court. During their farewells when Carina had curtsied and wished Nareen a blessed day, the queen mother had returned the curtsy. Carina smiled. Maybe she could salvage their relationship after all.