Impending Reprisals (19 page)

Anya knew Zabela was simply trying to get a rise out of her, but the words hit home regardless of any logic she could come up with. How could she not doubt his intentions when his actions directly contradicted his words? And, truly, what did they honestly have in common. Her and Kael had so much—they grew up together, had the same adventurous spirit, the same lust and thirst to experience life. But what of Merivic?

“Run along now, Milady. There is nothing further we need to discuss.”

Before Anya could even respond, Zabela ducked into a neighboring building, the ruckus sounding from inside encouraging Anya to hasten her departure as well.

Furious that she allowed Zabela to get the best of her, she stormed back to the castle. But that did not stop the contemplations from slamming into her, wave after nauseating wave. By the time she made her way back to her room, she was determined to end this confusion. She knew who she wanted, where her heart truly lay. And as she dressed for bed, she finally decided she must confront Kael. She could no longer ignore the hold he had on her. She had to be brave enough to confirm it or she would always wonder.

Head high, but with a tremble in her belly, Anya eased out into the empty corridor and crept to Kael’s door. A single, tense solitary sigh was all she issued before holding her breath and slipping inside his room.

Chapter 25

Merivic slid off his horse with a visible weariness.

“Are you well, My Lord,” the stable boy inquired as he took the reins, concern marring his young, round face.

“Twas a long journey, Caleb.”

“We were not expecting you back for at least another two days. I hope your early arrival does not mean it was a bad trip.”

“On the contrary. It was quite successful. I was merely anxious to return to Lady Anya so I rushed through my business in Silktree.” Merivic rolled his shoulders as he stretched. “I am sure she has retired for the night, but am happy to be home regardless.”

“And we are happy to have you back, Sire.” Caleb bowed and led the horse to the stable.

Instead of going to his quarters, Merivic decided to pay Malik a visit. Now that he had the cleansing ritual behind him, it was time to focus on reclaiming Anya’s heart. It was possible Malik had turned in for the night, but Merivic did not care. Either way, he was going to talk to the cleric, and he had better have come up with some ideas. After all, it was his fault he was in this predicament.

Merivic had worked himself up into a good healthy anger as he descended into the bowels of the castle, prepared to drag Malik out of bed if necessary. And he was sorely disappointed when he found him not only awake, but sitting amongst a pile of scrolls and potion ingredients—no doubt hard at work to solve Merivic’s problem.

“Ah, My Lord. I am pleased you have returned so quickly. I trust everything went well with the ritual?”

“Yes, everything went as it should.”

“Good. I was just studying some materials on spiritual guardians.”

Merivic nodded. “You are trying to find out more about Anya’s amulet.”

“Once you have procured the necklace for me, I should know more. What is it you know for sure regarding the tiger?”

“Anya can call Tajvek at will, or he appears when he senses great fear or if she feels threatened.”

Malik drummed his fingertips together as he contemplated Merivic’s explanation. “We will definitely need to disenchant the amulet before the blessing. Unfortunately, her hypnotic state will not halt her fear.”

“And you are positive about that?”

“There is no getting around it.”

“That was what I was afraid of,” Merivic said, running his hand over his shorn hair. “What about after the blessing? Can we re-enchant the amulet? She may need the tiger to protect her in the future.”

“I might be able to. I am not sure. But, Sire, we cannot risk the tiger appearing during the blessing.”

“Agreed. But perhaps we can simply keep her from wearing it.”

Malik glanced at Merivic, then turned as he began rolling up a scroll. “That is an option, but it may raise some questions on her part. I will look into an alternative, a temporary disenchantment if you prefer.”

“I do,” Merivic stated as he began wandering the small room. “Anya will not remember the blessing, is that correct?” He attempted to keep the worry from his voice, but Malik knew him well enough to recognize it for what it was.

“You cannot back away from this now.”

Merivic’s eyes flashed. “Of course not! My love for her changes nothing. I will do what I must.”

“Just see that you do.”

Merivic’s tone turned deadly in an instant. “You forget your place, Malik.”

“I have much to lose as well, Sire. And I simply wish to ensure your success.”

“Your foremost concern at the moment should not be my reluctance in subjecting her to the blessing. It should be how to get her to agree to the promising ceremony. Without that, there is no blessing.”

Malik grimaced as he looked away.

“Need I remind you, of all people, that she needs to be a willing participant in the promising? That it has to be her choice?”

“I am well aware, Sire. And I continue formulating a solution, but since potions and spells cannot be used to alter her free will, my resources are limited. The only thing I can suggest is something to attract her to you, or lure her back in. And hopefully, at that point, you can manipulate her—” Malik paused when he noticed Merivic hard glare. “Very well, if you find the term
manipulate
to be offensive… Then charm her, sweep her off her feet—whatever you choose to call it—only so long as it is her choice to agree to the promising ceremony.”

“What about the dream powder? That worked before.”

Malik stroked his chin thoughtfully. “It is risky,” he decided. “It is preferable for her to be thinking favorably of you for it to work properly. We cannot know what is going on in her head now. You might come out in a worse light than going in.”

“There is no way to tell what she is dreaming about before I jump into it? Another potion, perhaps?”

“No. It was a safe assumption in the past that she would be dreaming about you, or at the very least of pleasant things, so immersing yourself was seamless. That may not be the situation now.”

“And I wonder why that is,” Merivic stated, sarcastically.

“Yes, My Lord, I showed poor judgment the night I sent Zabela to you, but do not forget how I have helped. The dream powder, for example. She was drugged in her dreams so she would be more physically open to you, loosen her inhibitions. You were able to slip into her dreams and use those urges to sway her mind and decisions. You thought it could not be done without affecting her choices, but I managed it. Just as I will manage to fix this.”

“See that you do, Malik.” A sly smile curved at Merivic’s mouth. “I certainly prefer the physical enticements, like the dream powder.”

He thought back to the dream where she was wandering in a room with teal fabric hanging from the ceiling. It was such a thrill to be connected to her mentally as she physically reenacted the dream. Sadly, he was unable to replicate the same link during her dream of floating in the clouds—although the outcome on that particular occasion was far more satisfying in the end.

The memory of Anya, naked and over him, pleasuring him, stirred his urges and ignited a low burn in his stomach. “Yes. Something along those same lines would work best for me.”

“Sire.” Malik’s tone was edged in caution, but spoke clearly as a warning.

Merivic pointed a stern finger at the cleric. “Stop reading my emotions. It only causes you to react rashly. I know I cannot take her until the blessing, and I would not jeopardize that.” He slowly rubbed his hands together. “But perhaps it is time to approach her and see just how I am received.” He glanced at Malik. “I will be gentle with her, even cautious, but it is time to start closing the distance between us. There is not much time left to do so.”

“She is certainly sleeping at this late hour, My Lord.”

“Mmm. I believe that is for the best, Malik. Her defenses will be down when roused from sleep. Perhaps I will get a better inkling of her true feelings that way.” Merivic gestured to the pile of scrolls spread over the table. “And you continue with your research. I trust you will have something soon.”

“I am doing all that I can.”

“See that you are. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to wake a beautiful woman and begin my amends.”

*****

Anya slid the door open and crept into Kael’s chambers, her eyes roaming over his slumbering form at the far end of the room. She softly padded toward him, but hesitated more and more with each footfall. She knew she should not be there, and was quite aware of the possible repercussions of her actions. Stalling in her movements, Anya gazed longingly to that in which she loved, that in which she desired most. But the gravity of the situation fell heavy on her chest and she suddenly realized, it could not be, must not be, and it pained her more than she could bear.

Finally turning away, she pulled her eyes from Kael and came to notice the bright beam of moonlight coming through the window. She softly tip-toed into the light and turned her face up, basking in the brightness as a tear traveled down her cheek, her thoughts consuming her as to what she wanted, and what she knew to be right.

Kael, awake from the moment she opened his door, peered at her when he no longer heard her approach, or the sound of her retreat. No man could convince him, even if given a hundred thousand years to do so, that Anya could be even more beautiful to him than she was in this moment.

The moonlight radiated around her causing her entire silhouette to glow in an ethereal light, piercing through the thin fabric of her nightgown and clearly showing him her feminine outline. The tears freely streaming down her prominent cheek glistened as they caught the light and created a disheartening reaction within him. Kael wanted to go to her, to comfort her, but did he dare respond without first knowing why she had come?

Anya bowed her head with a muted sigh and glanced to Kael once more. She was not aware he was awake, for his eyes were hidden in the shadows. Had she known, she might have gone to him right then and there, but instead, resigning herself to her fate, she turned toward the door.

Realizing she could not see his returning gaze, Kael’s mind scrambled. Do I let her leave without explaining her pain, he wondered, or would I cause her more by asking her to stay?

In a swift movement, he lurched upright and swung his feet to the floor, still unsure of what action to take but unable to simply let the moment slip by. “Anya?”

She paused a brief moment, then suddenly rushed to drop to her knees at his feet. Her expression of adoration was apparent to Kael, but he feared to trust his eyes, afraid it was a delusion—what he only wished to see rather than what was truly there.

Anya reached up with one slender hand and gently caressed his face as more tears fell. In a slow deliberate movement, she placed her cheek against his bare chest and embraced him with a strength he had not known her to possess. He wrapped his arms around her, unsure of the cause of her obvious desperation, but eager to alleviate her pain if at all possible.

“Anya, what is it?”

“I feel as if my heart is breaking,” she whispered, her voice strained with emotions.

Kael’s arms constricted. “Merivic?” Though it distressed him to speak the lord’s name, he knew Merivic’s presence in this exchange could not go unspoken.

She shook her head in denial—either as to the cause of her anguish or to simply deny his name, he could not determine which. Her body seized with a heavy sob and he felt the warmth of more tears as they trickled down his skin.

He eased her back, cradling her face in his hands. “Anya, please tell me.”

“Obligation held me to Merivic’s side,” —she locked her sorrowful green eyes on his before averting her eyes—“but I know now my heart has always belonged to you.”

Kael’s eyes widened with her blunt admission, but he understood well her precarious position. Although he only wished to sweep her up into a fierce kiss, respect held him back.

He nudged her chin up to draw her gaze and smiled so she would know her confession did not fall on deaf, or resistant, ears. The corner of her mouth twitched as she encircled her arms around his neck and pressed her chest to his in a great hug. Kael gladly returned the embrace, but remained undecided as to how he could ease her grief, and apparent guilt.

“Might I stay here for a time?” Her warm breath breezed over his ear.

“Of course, you may.”

“Will you hold me?” she asked in a small voice, as if he would deny her.

“Only as you wish.” He would do anything she requested of him, and he took considerable comfort in that as he lay back on the bed, pulling her with him.

She nestled her face under his chin as her toned body fell in line with his. He held her to his side, his hands clasped easily at her curved hip as she, in turn, snaked her arms around him.

“Thank you,” she breathed as she snuggled closer, her soft hair tickling his neck, further alluring him with the sweet scent he always related to her alone.

“Your gratitude is not necessary, Anya. I am pleased to do so.”

Kael could not hold himself back from kissing the top of her head, although he knew it would be the only intimate contact he would initiate himself. In response, she slid her leg over his and rubbed it slowly up and down his calf, a seductive motion causing a thrill to travel under his skin.

Anya was hesitant, but felt spirited in her decision to show Kael how she felt. Twisting in his arms, she kissed his neck. His body tensed as her mouth trailed to his ear, and the nibble on his earlobe caused his breath to catch and release in a strained gasp. Without forewarning, Anya shifted her body over Kael’s, her auburn hair hanging around his face like a curtain. She stared down at him, trying in vain to read every reaction crossing his face, any clue as to how her actions were being received. His gaze fell to her mouth and he licked his lips, an unintentional invitation she could not resist. She brushed her lips against his, then again with more pressure.

Kael’s mouth barely flexed in return, but his hands clutched the edge of her nightgown at her thigh. She looked at him curiously, torn as to how to read his contradicting reactions. “Do you not return my love?” She sat to fully regard him, her hands lying on his chest.

“You know that I do.”

“Then let us deny ourselves no longer.”