Invictus (Esperance Trilogy #2)

Chapter 1

Amryn

“It’s because of empaths like Tiras that the rest of us are hunted. He is the reason everyone thinks we’re monsters. And if he’s the one who told the Rising about me . . . If he’s one of them . . . We’re all in grave danger.”

Silence filled the large bedroom, making Amryn all too aware of her thudding pulse. The words she’d just spoken hung in the stillness between her and Carver, the humid jungle air making every breath feel heavier.

Carver’s gaze was locked on her. Light and shadow played across his face, cast by the softly glowing lamps. Amryn held his stare, her palms dampening as she waited for him to say something. Anything. Because, contrary to all the stories told about empaths, she couldn’t read her husband’s mind.

She just felt everything he did.

The rising tide of his horror was edged with alarm, accompanied by a dread so cold it made her own blood chill. As powerful and distracting as those reactions were, they could not drown out the more subtle emotions that had arisen during their conversation. Surprise. Confusion. Hurt.

She could guess where that cut of pain had come from. She’d kept things from him. Lied about the existence of her brother, Tiras. Lied outright about her father’s death—though to be fair, she hadn’t seen Ferrin Lukis since she was a child, so there was every chance he was dead by now.

Carver’s hurt at her deceit stung, but her own vulnerability was far more agonizing at the moment. She was used to keeping secrets. It was how an empath survived in a world that wanted all of them dead. Now, in the space of mere hours, she’d told Carver everything.

Well, nearly everything.

He knew she was an empath. Knew she had the even rarer ability to heal people. But she hadn’t told him that her father was the reason her mother was dead. That he’d betrayed his entire family to the Order of Knights.

Some things were too painful to speak.

“What is it that makes your brother so dangerous?”

Carver’s deep voice jerked Amryn from her thoughts, forcing her back into the present. Her husband’s blue eyes were burning, his emotions rioting.

Tension—both hers and his—pulled at every muscle in her body as she met his gaze. “Tiras is—”

A knock on the outer door of their suite made Amryn jump.

Carver was on his feet in an instant. He looked every inch the terrifying general as he ordered, “Stay here.”

But even with the two guards standing outside their suite, Amryn was able to make out the new and familiar presence in the hall. “It’s Felinus,” she said, naming the old, quiet cleric that worked in the temple’s library.

Carver’s eyebrows dragged down, irritation and wariness spiking. Then determination set in. “Stay here,” he repeated, more firmly than before.

Trepidation pricked her. “Why?”

“The man was a knight. He knows you’re an empath.”

The words alone made her stomach drop, so, clearly, she had to remind them both of a simple fact: “Felinus hasn’t done anything to hurt me. He’s only ever protected me. He’s an ally.”

“I’m going to make sure of that,” Carver said, the words sounding strangely like a threat. He strode out of the bedroom, and Amryn scrambled from the bed so she could follow.

She’d only made it halfway across the sitting room by the time Carver reached the door to their suite. He tugged it open with unnecessary force.

Felinus flinched when he caught sight of Carver. Nervousness blasted out of the older man. “Oh, I . . . I thought you might be occupied elsewhere, General Vincetti.”

Carver’s mood darkened along with his voice. “You were trying to catch my wife alone?”

Felinus’s eyes rounded. “No, I—I apologize if I’ve offended you.” He glanced at the guards stationed on either side of the door. He cleared his throat before focusing once more on Carver. “I only hoped for a quick word with Lady Vincetti before you all departed in the morning.”

Amryn slid to Carver’s side. She didn’t miss the way he stiffened, nor the wave of protectiveness that roared from him. He shifted slightly, keeping her partially behind him.

Her heart warmed, but she set a hand on his arm, which was corded with tensed muscles. “Please let him in,” she said softly.

Carver’s jaw worked, but he held open the door and stepped back.

The hem of Felinus’s brown cleric’s robe brushed the stone floor as he swept inside.

His hands were clasped in front of him, his bald head humbly lowered.

“I apologize for the lateness of my visit,” he said, as Carver closed the door.

“I know you plan to leave at dawn, so I won’t stay long.

” He cast a sidelong glance at Carver before addressing Amryn.

“You wanted to discuss that section of Zerrif’s Voyage? ”

Carver scowled, a growl living in his throat as he said, “If that’s the best lie you can tell, I don’t have a lot of confidence in your ability to guard my wife’s secret.”

Felinus paled. Amryn wasn’t sure if it was due to Carver’s words, or the menacing threat they held.

She huffed out a breath. “There’s no need for that, Carver.”

The look he gave her made it clear he disagreed.

Exasperated, she shook her head and turned to Felinus. “Carver knows I’m an empath.” Just saying the damning words aloud made her mentally cringe.

The cleric’s shock was sharp, his expression stricken. “You told him?”

Carver’s eyebrows slashed down.

Amryn sighed and folded her arms over her chest. “Yes, I told him.”

Concern flared in Felinus. “Is that . . . wise?”

“I’m her husband,” Carver ground out. “She’s not in any danger from me.”

The cleric’s expression hardened. In that moment, Amryn glimpsed the knight Felinus had once been—dark, uncompromising, and terrifying. “Forgive me if I don’t instantly believe you, General Vincetti,” he said coolly. “You have no idea how many empaths I’ve seen betrayed by those closest to them.”

Amryn’s stomach clenched. She knew firsthand the truth of those words.

Indignation speared through Carver. “I would never betray her.”

“Good,” Felinus said curtly. “Neither would I. So, have we finished threatening each other, or would you like to waste more of our limited time exchanging unpleasantries?”

Carver stared the cleric down for a long, drawn-out moment. His emotions seethed, a churning river of distrust, fear, and uncertainty. Pure resolution crested everything as he lifted a finger and leveled it at Felinus. “If you betray her, you won’t live long enough to regret it.”

Felinus’s gaze remained pure steel, but he dipped his chin. “Noted.” He glanced at Amryn. “What exactly does he know?”

It was easy to pick up on his thread of concern and guess what he was referencing; it was the same concern he’d felt only hours ago, when they’d discussed the amulet hidden in her room. “He knows about the bloodstone, and how I used it to heal everyone,” she told him.

Felinus wasn’t happy with that revelation, but he mostly kept that from his lined face as he asked, “Where is the bloodstone now?”

“What is a bloodstone?” Carver countered before Amryn could speak.

The old cleric released a slow breath, as if that could increase his patience. “As I’ve already told Amryn, I know very little about the bloodstones.”

“But you know something.”

Felinus gestured to the nearby chairs. “May we sit? I’m afraid I’m not as young as I used to be.”

Carver kept himself firmly at Amryn’s side as they crossed the room, and when Felinus lowered himself into one of the cushioned chairs, Carver took Amryn’s arm to ensure they sat on the long couch across from the cleric.

Together. That was enough to warm her, but when Carver deliberately took her hand, lacing his fingers with hers, something inside her melted.

Felinus’s eyes darted to their joined hands.

She sensed his surprise, as well as a flicker of faint concern that warred with an almost desperate hope.

She knew he’d chosen to trust her estimation of Carver when the cleric leaned back in his chair, his hands gripping the armrests.

“The bloodstones were a myth to me,” he said.

“Younger knights debated the veracity of the stories, of course, but the more experienced knights all claimed the stories were only that—pure fiction. But as I rose in the ranks, I heard whispers. Eventually, I learned that at least one powerful knight believed in the bloodstones. A knight called Murdon Savin.”

Amryn straightened at the familiar name.

“I came across some of his things while working in the archives.” She’d even found his bone ring.

The mere thought of it made her shudder.

The gold ring carried a shard of an empath’s bone, encased in a protective dome of crystal.

All knights wore one; it was rumored to help them seek out empaths.

“I’m not surprised some of Savin’s possessions made their way here,” Felinus said.

“He was the knight we all aspired to be. A legend. Some say he lost focus near the end of his life, but that’s only because he turned all his attention to finding the bloodstones.

He was obsessed with them, and with Saul Von, whom he personally tortured until the empath died. ”

Saul Von. The most infamous empath to ever live.

The man whose heinous acts had ensured every empath was viewed as a dangerous monster.

He’d murdered the emperor’s wife. That assassination had led to the emperor giving the church full authority to carry out their extermination of all empaths.

As if that weren’t enough, Von had also killed the emperor’s son and his wife.

Argent—the emperor’s beloved grandson—had nearly lost his life in that same brutal attack.

Thankfully, Von had been captured before he could assassinate the young prince.