Dragonfyre (13 page)

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Authors: Donna Grant

BOOK: Dragonfyre
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Kyndra wasn’t surprised at the opulent surrounds of the chamber. It was rectangle with an arched ceiling. A rug of deep crimson ran down the middle of the chamber to the gilded throne that set on a raised landing.

Large candelabras of gold hung from the walls, and guards stood along the chamber, long spears in their hands. Movement in a corner caught her eye as she and Isran walked to his throne.

That’s when she saw what looked like a large birdcage, and inside was a man, his dark eyes solemn as he gazed at her.

“Priestess, let me introduce Eldar, the previous ruler of Thav.” A lump of sympathy formed in her chest at the haggard appearance of the old man, bent with age. His face was wrinkled, and his shoulder length hair was snow white. He gripped the bars of the cage, and Kyndra noted that his hands didn’t shake.

“That’s what being in control of Thav without the benefit of a dragon’s egg will do to you,” Isran whispered in her ear. “He looks frail, but he isn’t. His mind is sharper than ever.”

“Then how did you get control?”

Isran laughed. “Men are easily swayed with the promise of power and coin. Eldar thought his men loyal to him. He was wrong.”

“Will you make that same mistake?”

“I’m not that foolish. In my position, you can trust no one.” She snorted. “Yet, you are trusting me to perform the ceremony.” He turned her to face him, his fingers biting into her shoulders. “Don’t even think of trying something, priestess. I will kill you in a blink.” She took his threat seriously and nodded so he would release her. Kyndra took a deep breath when Isran walked to the throne and lowered himself in the huge chair. He beckoned her forward and, though she didn’t want to be near him, she lifted her skirt and climbed the steps.

“I knew you would look lovely in that gown,” Isran said. “I have no doubt once you get your first taste of black magic, you will understand why it’s so seductive. The power, the energy that courses through you.” He took in a deep breath. “There’s nothing like it.”

“You are sure of what it will do to me.”

He laughed. “My dear priestess, no one can withstand it. No one.”

“What will you do to me once I finish the ceremony?”

His finger caressed up her arm. “I have plans for you, plans that you will, no doubt, enjoy as much as I do.”

The thought of him touching her body, caressing her, kissing her as Aimery had done left her sick to her stomach. But she couldn’t worry about that now. There was so much more to think about.

“Where is the egg?”

Isran smiled. “In due time. First, we must begin your lessons.”

“Lessons?”

“What Julieth didn’t tell you is that if a priestess of the Order turns to black magic, she will have the power to bind the dragon to someone. The binding will increase my power a hundredfold. I won’t just be invincible, priestess, I will be inexorable.” Kyndra’s knees threatened to buckle. “Why wouldn’t she tell me? Never before has that been spoken in the Order.”

“There is much about black magic that isn’t spoken about in the Fae realms.”

“Then how do you know of it?”

He chuckled. “It isn’t just power I gain with the use of my magic, priestess. It’s knowledge. Secrets long held about black magic, its source, its power, its strengths are given to the users. Soon, you will understand what I mean.”

Kyndra was angry that Julieth hadn’t told her of the ceremony. She understood why it wasn’t taught in the Order but, knowing what they were up against, Julieth could have told her before they arrived on Thav.

Did Aimery know?

She liked to think he didn’t, but what frightened her more than anything was the little thrill that shot through her at the knowledge that she would gain strength in her magic. She told herself it was to fight Isran, but she wasn’t sure how true that was.

“Ready?”

Kyndra turned her gaze to his. “Nay.”

“Don’t fight it. I see the excitement in your eyes, the yearning to learn if black magic is as luring as everyone says.”

“You’re misreading my hatred for you for excitement.”

Isran threw back his head and laughed. “The more I’m around you the more I realize what captivated Aimery so.”

The mention of Aimery sent a stab of longing through her heart.

Isran rose so that she faced the doors they had entered. His mouth moved to her ear as he stood behind her. “To use black magic is very simple, priestess.” As he spoke two guards walked into the chamber dragging a young boy. They threw the boy down, his torn and bloodied tunic falling off his shoulders as he turned to face them.

“He’s a thief,” Isran whispered.

“What did he steal?”

“A loaf of bread. The price for thievery is death.”

Kyndra tried to ignore the boy’s gaunt frame, the welts and bruises staining his fair skin.

He was starving, yet he stood with his shoulders back and his head high as he waited for the guards to attack.

On her realm, no one killed. To kill was to use black magic. If there was a crime, the criminal went before a judge and jury and learned his sentence. Murder was not tolerated on the Realm of the Fae.

Despite that, Kyndra couldn’t allow the boy to be killed because he lacked the coin to buy food. She fisted her hands and tried to look away as the guards pulled their swords from their scabbards, the sound echoing in the chamber.

To give the boy credit, he didn’t flinch or beg for his life. He had known the consequences for his actions, and he had taken a chance. But he was just a child, a starving child.

Isran moved her hair so his lips could graze her ears. “What will you do?” Kyndra fisted her hands. The laws of Thav were in place for a reason. Who was she to challenge them?

He’s just a boy!

Her gaze was locked on the guards. Their weapons pulled back, ready to strike.

Time slowed as she watched the blades plunging toward the boy’s small chest. What kind of Fae would she be to let a child die for trying to give himself nourishment? Her eyes closed.

She gave in to the need to save the child.

A surge of power rushed through her, startling her with its ferocity, its allure. Her eyes flew open and lips parted as she gasped. Just as her knees gave out, Isran’s arms wrapped around her.

“See how easy that was, priestess,” he murmured in her ear. “You can feel the magic pulsing through you, strengthening your power the same time you’re gaining knowledge.” The chamber spun around her. She had merely saved the boy’s life. How could that have taken her toward black magic? Her gaze found the boy who stood over the two guards lying motionless on the floor.

“You killed them. For the boy.”

Kyndra shook her head at Isran’s words. She hadn’t meant to kill them, just protect the defenseless boy. “Nay.”

“Don’t fight it,” Isran urged. He turned her so that he lifted her in his arms. “There’s no turning back now, priestess.”

Chapter Eighteen

Aimery rolled onto his back and groaned at the aches pounding through his body.

Sunlight filtered through the window. How many days he had slept, he wasn’t sure. He pushed the sheet from his body, noting that he was still naked. His nose itched, but he was afraid to lift his hand for fear it wouldn’t work after hanging so long in the chains.

But the itch wouldn’t be ignored. His finger found the tip of his nose and scratched without too much pain. A heartbeat later he realized he was in his bed. All thoughts of pain fled as he jerked upright in search of Kyndra. One glance around his chamber confirmed he was alone.

Aimery ran a hand down his face. Where had Isran taken Kyndra now, and what was the bastard up to that he would release him? Isran was cunning. He liked to tease and torment, gaining a gleeful, sickening pleasure out of it.

The need to feel his magic threatened to take him back down into the pit of madness, but he fought it. He would be no good to Kyndra insane.

It was the smell of food that drew him from the bed. He didn’t bother to look for clothes as he stumbled his way to the table. His hands shook from lack of use and weakness. He spilled more wine than he got into the goblet as he poured. It took two tries before he was able to pull meat off the bone. Aimery didn’t know what it was, nor did he care. He needed food and quickly.

The first bite was like a taste of bliss. His mouth watered for more, his stomach growling as he ate. Aimery finished off the slab of meat and the entire loaf of bread. Then he delved into the delicious pastries arranged so neatly on the golden platter. Only then did he allow himself to finish the jug of wine.

With his stomach full and his strength returning, Aimery found himself thinking if Isran and what his next step would be. He hadn’t killed Kyndra or him. But why? What use did either one of them serve Isran? Aimery wouldn’t stop until Isran was dead. Surely Isran had to realize that.

There was a soft knock at his door. Aimery’s head jerked to the door, his heart quickening as he wondered if it was Kyndra. As the door swung open and a servant stepped into the chamber with her head bowed, Aimery sat back and sighed.

He was such a fool. Isran wouldn’t allow Kyndra to walk around the castle, and he most certainly wouldn’t let her come to him.

“Yer bath, milord,” the servant said.

Aimery watched while the tub was brought in and filled with water. The tendrils of heat rising from the tub beckoned him to relax his aching body in the heat. He didn’t wait for the servants to leave as he rose and walked to the tub. The female glanced at him beneath her lowered lashes, a blush staining her cheek.

He lowered himself in the tub and groaned. The water felt wonderful. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. For whatever reason, Isran was allowing him to build his strength, and Aimery was going to take every chance he got to do just that.

“Do ye…need…anythin’ else, milord?”

Aimery cracked open an eye to find the servant girl standing beside the tub. So, Isran had sent her to tempt him. “Nay. You may leave.”

She licked her lips and opened her mouth as if she would say more, but she turned on her heel and left.

The chamber once more his, Aimery relaxed in the tub until the water began to cool.

Only then did he bathe. After he dried off, he wrapped the towel around his waist. As he walked to the table for more wine he noticed the black tunic and breeches laid out for him. He didn’t wish to walk around naked, so he put on the clothes.

Once his boots were on, he looked beneath the bed for his weapons and found them gone as was the missive from Theron. Isran had wasted little time in seizing everything Aimery had.

All he had to do now was wait for he knew Isran would return very, very soon.

* * * * *

Kyndra stared at herself in the mirror. She looked the same, but inside she was different.

She had felt it since that moment in Isran’s throne room.

Black Magic.

She had taken a life. Regardless of why she had done it, she had done it. And in doing so had committed herself down a path where there was no return. A path that had ensured she would never see her realm again, never see the beauty of the dragons flying the sky or hear their call.

Never look into Aimery’s eyes and see his desire for her.

A tear slipped down her cheek. Kyndra hastily wiped it away. She hadn’t had a choice in the matter. Not only could she not let the boy die, but she couldn’t let anything happen to Aimery. He was much stronger than her. He would be able to end Isran’s rule and save the egg.

How she longed to touch him again, just once more wrap her arms around him and feel his warmth. Her sex throbbed, and moisture gathered between her thighs as she thought about his rod sliding into her, thrusting hard and fast.

Her breasts ached for his touch. She cupped her breasts and sucked in a breath when her fingers grazed her sensitive nipples. Her body heated, yearning for Aimery’s caress, to feel his lips on her, wringing cries of pleasure from her.

The black magic was still new in her, and Aimery didn’t have his magic. There was a chance he wouldn’t realize what she had become. The kernel of hope had formed in her heart and wouldn’t be ignored. Kyndra rose from the stool and left her chamber. No one stopped her as she walked through the castle to Aimery’s room.

The closer she got, the more her body yearned for his touch. When she came to his chamber, she stopped and placed her hand on the door. Isran had assured her Aimery had been released and seen to, but she didn’t know if she could believe him.

After seeing Aimery lost in his madness, she wasn’t sure what she would find if she opened the door. But she had to see him.

She opened the door and looked inside. The bed was mused, the sheet puddle on the floor. Water pooled near the tub and a towel had been tossed onto the bed. Isran hadn’t lied. She was surprised by that, and also relieved.

“Kyndra?”

Her head swiveled around to the table to find Aimery. He looked hail except for the dark circles beneath his eyes and the lines of worry on his brow. “Aye. It’s me.”

“What are you doing here?” He narrowed his gaze as he rose, as if he didn’t trust her.

If only he knew
. “I’ve been allowed to see you.”

“Why?”

She swallowed and shrugged. “I don’t know. Who knows why Isran does what he does.” He seemed to accept her answer.

Kyndra closed the door behind her and walked to Aimery. She reached up and ran her hand down his face. “Are you in much pain?”

“It’s tolerable.”

“And your mind? Are you with me?”

He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “For now. It gets more difficult with each hour.”

“You can withstand it,” she said and forced a smile. “If anyone can, it’s you.” His hands grasped her shoulders and pulled her closer. “What happened to you? Isran told me you had been hurt?”

“It…was nothing.” She didn’t want to tell him how terrified she had been of being raped, of the pain she had experienced at the men’s hands.

“It was something.”

“Believe it or not, Isran saved me.”

Aimery snorted. “The one thing I’ve learned about Isran is that he doesn’t do anything for free.”

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