The Twilight Lord (36 page)

“I will,” Ilona replied. And then she opened the golden tunnel for her daughter.

Lara saw at its end the small room in her own home, the candle on the table almost burned down to a stump. She stepped into the tunnel’s entrance. “Farewell, Mother,” she said and then she walked through back into her own castle even as the tunnel closed behind her.

“I
CANNOT FORGET
her,” the Twilight Lord groaned.

“But you must, my lord,” Alfrigg said.

“Never! She is mine and I want her back!” Kol roared angrily.

“My lord, she was naught but the female vessel needed to give the Dark Lands its next lord, but she could not even do that right. She gave you identical twins instead of one son. Thus we are thrown into chaos.”

“The Book of Rule said my mate would be a faerie woman and Lara is a faerie woman,” Kol said irritably. He longed to strike out at his chancellor, who was becoming very annoying, but he could not relieve the dwarf of his position for Alfrigg had been named specifically in the Book of Rule as his chancellor. Still, the thought of taking his head from his shoulders and pickling it was enticing. Kol ground his teeth.

“I would never gainsay the Book of Rule,” Alfrigg said. “I merely question if the female vessel you chose was the correct one.”

“Of course she was the correct one, you blithering old fool,” Kol shouted. “I saw her in the reflecting bowl when I asked to see my mate. Would the bowl have lied?”

“Perhaps you were shown what you were supposed to see,” Alfrigg said quietly.

“Of course I was supposed to see her!” Kol’s normally pale skin was growing crimson with his outrage and frustration. “Why else would the reflecting bowl have revealed her to me?”

“My lord, we both know the power of the magic world. And we both know that the balance between the light and the dark must be maintained—” Alfrigg began.

“Why?” Kol interrupted. “Why should there be any balance between good and evil? Why cannot one overcome the other? Show me where it is written that there must be balance, you imbecile! It is not in the Book of Rule.
Show me!
”

“I do not know if it is written, my lord, but that is the way of it,” Alfrigg replied calmly. “The Shadow Princes know everything there is to know. Their magic reaches even into the Dark Lands, my lord. I believe that they arranged for you to see Lara and want her with all your being. And having engaged your lust they allowed you to take her so you might get your heir on her, for she was a faerie woman and met the requirement in the Book of Rule.”

“She loves me. She would not have given me children otherwise. Faerie women will not give children to those they do not love. Now they have stolen her from me.” Kol flung himself upon his throne and looked out into the stormy sky outside. “I want her back, Alfrigg.
I want her back, and I shall have her back!
” His severe, handsome face bore a look of determination.

“My lord, you must face reality. You robbed this faerie woman of her memories of who she was, of her husband, of her children. Then you convinced her that she was your wife and you loved her. She was frightened and confused. You gained her trust. She did not know she was faerie, therefore you were able to impregnate her. Once her memories were restored she schemed against you, deceived you and with the help of her mentor, the Shadow Prince, she fled the Dark Lands to return to her husband, her children and their home. She does not love you, my lord.
She does not love you!
”

Kol leapt from his throne, picked up the dwarf and flung him down the length of the long chamber. Alfrigg landed with a loud thunk and for a moment Kol believed he had killed his chancellor. He was torn between a feeling of deep satisfaction and panic, but finally Alfrigg arose from the floor, shaking himself and running his hands over himself as if he were checking for broken bones. Satisfied he was still in one piece he reached up to inspect his head and discovered a trickle of blood. The dwarf turned and bowed stiffly to his angry master.

“I will leave you to yourself, my lord, while I attend to my wounds.”

“Krell damn you to Limbo!” Kol cursed Alfrigg as the doors to his throne room closed. His chancellor was wrong. Lara loved him. He would regain her even if he had to unleash all the powers of the Dark Lands into Terah. The Shadow Prince had enchanted him so he could not leave his castle for a hundred years, but he did not have to leave Kolbyr to get her back. He could send his giants or the Wolfyn after her, after the Dominus of Terah who claimed her as his wife, after her children. But first he had to contact her upon the Dream Plain. Unless she returned to him he would destroy Terah and all that was in it. Her loyalty to the Dominus was only based upon the children they shared. Well she had given him children, too, and his sons needed their mother. He needed her
and he would have her.

The Twilight Lord strode from his throne room to his bedchamber, a small, narrow, dark room, its walls and ceiling painted black. He flung himself down upon the bed, and his dark eyes closed as he reached out to her, commanded her to come to the Dream Plain. He had done this for many nights, and while he had sensed Lara’s presence he had never been able to get close enough to her to treat with her. But tonight she appeared to him in a sudden burst of golden light, and he stepped back, surprised, for it hurt his eyes.

“Enough, my lord Kol! I will speak with you this night but after this night
nevermore.
Why do you call me to the Dream Plain?” Lara demanded but she knew the words he would utter.

“You are shining. Your brightness is making me ill,” Kol complained.

“I am more faerie than you can imagine,” she told him. “I am more faerie than even I knew. I am not a creature of the half light and the darkness like you, Kol. When you had the Munin steal my memories from me you took away the knowledge of who I was and thus dimmed my light. You will not do it again.”

“Come back to me,” he said.

“No,” Lara answered him quietly. “I will never come back to you. To live in the Dark Lands would kill me. I need the light, the flowers and the birds about me.”

The brightness about her had lessened now and he could see her clearly. She was, it seemed to him, even more beautiful than he remembered. He felt his lust rising as he gazed upon her. “I need you,” he said softly. “I love you and our sons need you.”

“If you indeed love me, my lord, then take that love and shower it upon the sons you forced me to give you,” Lara said coldly, her faerie heart hardening. He
was
a monster! And she could never forgive this creature for what he had done to her. And using his sons, Kolbein and Kolgrim, to attempt to reach out to her was unspeakable.

“You love me,” he told her, his eyes changing from gray to black, glittering as he encompassed her with his burning glance. “You love me!” he repeated.

“I despise you,” Lara answered him.

Her icy tone discomfited him. Was it possible? Was it just possible that she was speaking the truth? If it was then it would be unbearable. “Tell me that you love me, Lara.” His voice was almost pleading. His lust for her, painful.

His love for her was weakening him, Lara realized in surprise. She had not considered that Kol could be weakened by anything. This was interesting. “I find the very sight of you repellent,” Lara told him. “I do not love you, although perhaps the poor creature you created of me loved you a little. But
I
do not.”

Black anger rose up to fill Kol’s soul with fury. “Do you believe that because I am sealed within Kolbyr that you can escape me, escape my vengeance? Consider Magnus Hauk and how he would feel if he learned you have given me what you will not give him,” Kol sneered. “And what of your daughters? Perhaps I shall use my magic to bring them to my House of Women, and take them for concubines. Your eldest female child is already half-grown. And then there is your son by the Outlander.” He smiled wickedly at her, but his smile faded as he jumped back to avoid the small ball of fire she threw down at his feet. It singed his robe.

“I would not consider coming after me or mine if I were you,” Lara warned him. “I am capable of killing you, Kol, even as I vanquished your ancestor, Usi. Perhaps I shall just take your sons and drown them instead. I would make you beg for their lives, but in the end I would slay them without mercy,” she told him.

“There is darkness in you yet, my jewel,” he murmured, pleased.

“There is darkness in all of us, Kol, both mortal and faerie, but most of us learn to overcome that darkness and let the light shine within our souls. There can be no wickedness in protecting those you love, my lord.”

“Do you not love our sons?” he asked her.

Lara shook her head. “They are nothing to me, Kol. Only by stealing my memories were you able to convince me that I was who you said I was. Because I did not know I was faerie—nor knew their customs, I gave you the children that you wanted. Be satisfied, Kol, with that, for there is nothing more I can or will give you.”

“If you do not return to Kolbyr to sit by my side I will create havoc in both Hetar and Terah, my gem,” he told her. “That, I
can
do, even imprisoned as I am.”

“For each blow you strike out at me, I will return two blows,” Lara warned him. “Do not be confused by my beauty, Kol, or your memories of the creature you made me. I am a warrior born and I will destroy you. My sword, Andraste, longs to sip your blood, my lord.”

“You cannot slay me here on the Dream Plain,” Kol told her. “You must come into the Dark Lands to do that, my jewel. If you come, my creatures will capture you and bring you to me. When they do I will never let you go again.” And suddenly he was by her side. Reaching out, his arm went about her waist. His hot breath touched the fair skin of her neck and he kissed it. “You belong to me, Lara,” he said as he fondled her plump breasts. “Consider what we could do together, my precious one. We could conquer our worlds.” He turned her about, his thumb rubbing across her lips. Then he kissed her in a deep, demanding kiss, his forked tongue snaking into her mouth to hotly caress her tongue while his fingers pinched the nipple of a breast with which he had been playing.

Lara sagged against him, shocked by the sudden weakness that overcame her. She struggled feebly against him as he pulled her gown up and lifting her up impaled her upon his dominant rod. She tried to scream but her throat seemed to be constricted and she could utter no sound. She felt his great dominant rod pumping and pumping within her tight sheath. She tried to awaken, but he would not permit her to do so.

“Feel my strength and my lust for you, my jewel,” he murmured against her ear. “My desire and need for you is every bit as strong as your hate for me. You are yourself now, Lara, not the weak creature I made you. Yet you are about to know pleasure with me again as you did before.”

“Noooo!”
Lara insisted, her voice now restored. Desperately she attempted to push him away, to get free of his dark hunger. She could feel him within her. Thick and long and probing deeply. He stretched the walls of her sheath with his fierce burning and throbbing rod.
“Noooo!”
she cried again.
“Noooo!”

His dark laughter echoed, surrounding her, imprisoning her with its evil.
“Yes! You will yield yourself to me because you have no choice, Lara. You are mine. Mine alone to command. I am your lord and master, not Magnus Hauk of Terah.”

Lara screamed as she felt his boiling juices scalding her—and
worse
her own satisfaction as she reached her pleasure peak. And then she heard Magnus’s voice calling to her and the sound of it gave her the courage to shove the Twilight Lord from her and flee the Dream Plain.

“Lara, my love, wake up!” the Dominus said to his wife. “You are having a very bad dream. Wake up, sweetheart!” He shook her gently. “Wake up.”

Lara’s green eyes flew open and she almost wept with her relief. Clinging to Magnus, she wept wildly.

“What is the matter, my love?” the Dominus asked his wife. “What did you dream that has frightened you so greatly? I do not believe I have ever seen you really fearful, Lara. Tell me, my darling. What is it?”

The sound of his voice soothed and comforted her. She drew a deep breath and cleared her mind. She could hardly tell Magnus what had happened, that the Twilight Lord had raped her upon the Dream Plain. How had he wielded such power over her? The Dream Plain was supposed to be a neutral place. She needed to speak with Kaliq, but she could hardly return to Shunnar having just been there. But she must summon him to her as quickly as she could. “I cannot recall what I dreamed,” she lied to her husband. “But suddenly I was very frightened, Magnus, and that as you know is unlike me. Just hold me, my darling, and I will be all right,” she said, horrified further by the stickiness between her thighs.

He stroked her disheveled hair quietly, curious. How could she not remember a dream that had had such a powerful effect upon her? He had awakened with the sound of her voice crying
no.
And she had appeared to be thrashing and struggling against someone, but of course there was no one there. Strange, he considered, but then Lara never lied to him. If she said she could not recall her nightmare then she could not. But he wondered why. Lara lay against him and wondered what time it was and how long she had been dreaming. She could swear she could scent the muskiness of Kol’s skin on hers. Could her husband smell it? She shuddered and Magnus’s arms closed tighter about her.

“It’s all right, my love,” he told her reassuringly.

She nodded her head silently. She needed to get up. She needed to think. She needed to speak with Kaliq. Pulling away from Magnus she said, “I think I will get up and walk about a bit, husband. I would rid myself of these night terrors more easily, I believe. Go back to sleep. I am sorry to have awakened you.” She arose from the bed.

“If you are certain you are all right,” he said slowly.

“Whatever I dreamed,” she told him, “I sense I need to move about a bit to calm my nerves.” She forced a small laugh. “It really must have been quite dreadful to put me into such a state, Magnus.” Bending she kissed his lips lightly. “I’ll be fine, my love. Perhaps a warm bath and a stroll in our gardens.”