CHAPTER SIXTEEN
LYRIANA
His lover. His lover . Lady Kenna was Rhyan’s lover.
Hello, lover.
Nausea whirled deep inside of me. My chest tightening, a wheezing feeling stirred in my gut like I’d been punched. I couldn’t catch my breath. The backs of my eyes burned like I wanted to cry. But I wanted to throw up at that moment even more.
I knew he’d courted as Heir Apparent. Knew he’d been courted many times. There’d been others before me. Of course, there’d been. But … I hadn’t imagined anyone significant. Hadn’t imagined anyone I’d come face-to-face with. Any previous bursts of jealousy I’d felt for the women who’d been a part of his past had been quickly squashed by their anonymity. By the fact that none had been mentioned by name or in detail. Because it was the past. Because it didn’t matter. Because he was mine.
Maybe this was nothing. She was someone insignificant. Someone Imperator Hart was using to come between us. But my gut kept churning, and at that moment, caught so off guard, it physically hurt to look at Rhyan.
“By the expression on your face, Lady Lyriana,” Imperator Hart said, “I surmise my son did not tell you about Lady Kenna.”
I blinked slowly, my face tight. I tried to take a breath, to remain calm. This was a manipulation. Nothing more. Nothing Imperator Hart said or did could be trusted. I knew that. I knew that too fucking well. And I trusted Rhyan—more than anything in this world. I’d talk to him before I came to any conclusion. Even if this was making my stomach hurt. I knew what I had to do. And though my throat was raw, I straightened my shoulders, and plastered a smile across my face.
“A happy surprise,” I said. “Congratulations, Your Highness. Tovayah maischa , on your happy news. And to you as well, Lady Kenna.” My eyes dipped to her belly.
Imperator Hart frowned, displeased with my response.
Godsdamned fucking bastard.
Rhyan’s chest heaved, a worried look in his eyes as his gaze moved back and forth from his father to me.
“Do you remember?” his father asked Kenna. His voice had softened to something almost sickeningly sweet. “Back before we wed, my love?” His aura darkened, and his eyes narrowed. “How many months it was? Hmmm?”
“How many months?” Kenna looked confused. “Months of what, Your Highness?”
“How many months,” he gritted, “was my son fucking you?”
I couldn’t hold back the gasp that escaped me. Nor could Dario.
“Your Highness.” Kenna blinked rapidly, her hand moving protectively over her belly. “I can barely recall such a thing. It’s a distant memory. I’m your wife now, and that’s all that matters to me. That, and that I am carrying your child.” She smiled, but the fear was clear in her eyes.
“A simple question. How many months?” he asked again, his voice hard and loud, ringing throughout the empty room.
My stomach roiled, and I wanted to throw up. I knew this was my fault. I hadn’t responded the way he wanted—hadn’t acted hurt enough. But by the Gods, I didn’t want to know the answer. I didn’t want to hear about it.
Kenna’s chest heaved, her eyes widening with alarm. Rhyan’s jaw tensed, his neck turning red.
“Tell me how long he fucked you for.” He reached for her arm, wrapping his fingers violently around her.
My hands clenched.
“Your Highness,” Dario started, but a sharp look from Imperator Hart, a pointed blast of his aura, and Dario stepped back, staring at the ground.
Kenna pressed her lips together, but the Imperator’s hand twisted, tightening around her arm until she let out a cry.
“Stop!” I yelled. But he only jerked Kenna toward him.
“Seven!” Rhyan shouted, stepping forward. “It was seven months.”
My eyes watered as I looked at Rhyan. He turned back to me, his face red, his jaw clenched. Seven months. That was longer than we’d been together.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, then looked up at his father with death in his eyes. “Are you satisfied? I can only assume from the size of her belly you’ve outdone me.”
Gods. I needed to get out of here. I needed to break free of these damned ropes. I pinched my own fingers together. It was all I could do to keep from crying. But tears still welled in my eyes.
Something I realized that Imperator Hart had noticed. As had Rhyan. His face tightened, and fell. I knew he felt awful. But I still couldn’t look at him. Nor could I face Imperator Hart who had finally released Kenna from his hold.
She started to reach for her arm, for the spot I was sure was already bruising. But then she straightened, hands at her side, shoulders pushed back. Her noble training kicked back in and she stared pointedly out the window.
Imperator Hart stroked his beard. “No need to be embarrassed, my love. It’s in the past,” he said gently. “I just thought that since it was the first time we were all together, I should remind you. Rhyan’s my prisoner. And nothing more than your stepson.”
Kenna’s eyes flashed with anger, her neck reddening. “I’m well aware of his criminal status. My focus is only on my son, the one who will be here soon. And on you, Your Highness.” She was speaking carefully, formally, but still with that Glemarian lilt.
“Good,” his father said. But he still looked unsettled. I wasn’t supposed to show strength. I had to remember that. The more power I showed, the harder he’d try to hurt me.
It was all a game for him. A game I had to play. I let my face fall, allowing one tear to roll down my cheek. But then another fell. And another. And I couldn’t stop.
Shit.
“Lyr,” Rhyan whispered.
But I shook my head. I couldn’t look at him, not now. Not in front of his father and not in front of … her .
“Now, I have some questions for you, my lady.” Imperator Hart grinned, obviously happy now that he’d gotten a reaction from me. “When I entered Bamaria, I possessed a certain red jewel on my sword. Ancient and priceless. I offered it to you. But you refused me. And instead of negotiating, you sent a thief to rob me.”
I stared ahead, my chin trembling. I was unsure what to say or do. I couldn’t deny his words. But I couldn’t agree with them either.
“And then the two of you came here, attacked my soturi, and used the jewel to open an ancient artifact.”
“And how would you know that?” Rhyan asked. “As I recall, we knocked your soturi unconscious.” His eyes flicked to Dario.
“Hmmm.” Imperator Hart almost sounded amused. “That you did. In fact, the two of you knocked out every sentry on duty that night.”
“Last time I checked,” Rhyan said, “an unconscious soturion could not bear witness. I’ll admit, I did steal the jewel from you, and we did climb Gryphon’s Mount. But that’s all. Perhaps, we simply came for the view.”
“Lying to me is a mistake. Do you think I don’t know? You had no right to break into the white seraphim. Ah—” he held his hand up, “No interruptions. You opened it. And you took what was inside.” His aura thrashed. “Where is it?”
“We took nothing,” Rhyan said. “There was magic around it, an old spell. It created flames. And that’s it. We took nothing.”
“Challenging me, now?” his father asked, his voice deadly low. “You see, besides sentries, I had some eyes on the mountain. They saw everything. And they whispered what they witnessed back to me.”
By the Gods. He’d had nahashim there that night, too. Not to take us, but to spy. Fuck. Fuck! He knew we’d opened the tomb, knew we’d taken the shard. Which meant he knew that I had magic.
The puzzle of the last few days began to come together. All the soturi hunting us all week, the legion he’d sent to find Rhyan who’d been moving steadily closer but not close enough. The nahashim that had stalked outside of our cave, and told him exactly which day Meera had been rescued. None of it had been to capture us. He’d let us know he was watching because he was herding us, pushing us where he wanted. I’d been right. The nahashim at the cave had been a trap, leading us not just to any soturi—but to the men he’d wanted to find us. The ones he’d trusted.
Aiden and Dario.
Imperator Hart clapped, and the door opened.
“Soturion Baynan Gadayyan,” announced the herald.
A soturion entered carrying a long wooden tray covered by green cloth. As he moved closer, I realized he’d been the soturion who had unsettled Rhyan outside, the one who had jeered at him. His hair was brown, shiny, his skin pale, he looked like … of course. Gadayyan. He was related to Kenna. To Kane.
“These are all their effects? Nothing missing?” Imperator Hart asked.
“All they had on their persons is here, Your Highness,” said Baynan. “You have my word.”
The Imperator eyed Dario carefully. “You took everything? All their belongings?”
“Aye, we did, Your Highness, I swear.”
I stilled. I knew what he was looking for. The key to Asherah’s tomb. The shard of the Valalumir.
“Take it,” Imperator Hart ordered. Dario stepped forward, retrieving the tray and presented it to Kenna.
We were forced to wait in stillness as Soturion Baynan left the room, and then Imperator Hart removed the cloth, revealing all the armor and weapons his soturi had stripped from us. Including the stave holder Rhyan had bought me with my initials inside. And my stave.
He took it in his hand, twirling the mix of dark sunwood. I resisted the urge to run up there and claim it. It had been mine for centuries—for lifetimes. The source of my power and my magic, the power I’d been denied.
“Where did you get this?” he asked, his eyes wide and mocking as they waited for an answer he knew I’d refuse to give. And when I remained silent, he said, “Fine. I care not.” He tossed it onto the tray. He picked up the key to Asherah’s tomb, the red jewel, and he pocketed it in his belt pouch. “I have a use for you, my lady, one we shall discuss in private.”
“You don’t need her,” Rhyan said. “You want me. Let her go, and you can have me.”
“Dario.” Imperator Hart waved. “Restrain him.”
“He’s … he’s already bound, Your Highness,” Dario protested.
“Are his feet?” Imperator Hart snapped. “He’s like a wild animal. Now hold him back.”
Rhyan seethed, baring his teeth as Dario’s blade pressed against his neck. “Afraid I’ll tear through your ropes. It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Yes. Well, we can’t have that now, can we?” Imperator Hart turned to me. “Would you like to play a game, Lyriana? To prove your worth here as a guest? And to save Rhyan from further harm?”
“Guest, Your Highness? I thought I was a criminal.”
He shrugged. “You certainly have been in bed with one.”
I stiffened.
“Rhyan will go into the dungeons where he belongs. But you, Lyriana, you have an opportunity here to remain above ground, to sleep in guest quarters. Something I think you will want. Because it’s the only way you’ll see your sister again.”
I exhaled sharply. “What must I do?”
“Tell me the truth. You took something else from the statue. Where is it?”
The shard. Sweat beaded the back of my neck. “I don’t know. It was stolen,” I said. “I don’t have it.”
“Someone else does,” he said.
I nodded, shaking.
“Who? Answer, and do not play dumb with me.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I swear.” And I was telling the truth. I had a damn good idea. But I could honestly say that I didn’t know if the shard lay in Morgana’s hands or Aemon’s.
“Perhaps someone can help you find the information in your mind?” He looked over his shoulder. “Arkturion?”
“No!” Rhyan shouted. He tried to lunge forward, his lips pulled back, but Dario restrained him, digging the knife into his neck.
“Dario, stop it. Don’t hurt him!” I yelled.
Rhyan seethed, his chest heaving. “You traitorous bastard!”
Dario growled, “At least, I’m not a murderer.”
“Fuck you,” Rhyan said, his voice low and defeated.
A back door behind the dais opened, and a tall, looming figure emerged.
Arkturion Kane.
He was somehow simultaneously exactly what I’d imagined, and far, far worse. Thick and muscled, he was like an oversized, paler version of the Bastardmaker, with the same lascivious smile, only more angular. His face was like a rectangle in shape, his torso as well. His hair was a mix of brown and gray that might have once been the same color as Kenna’s. His Glemarian leathers were polished to shine, and his red Arkturion cloak was freshly pressed.
He bowed before Imperator Hart, and offered a quick, but dismissive look at his daughter before he turned to me and grinned.
“Lady Lyriana, we meet at last.” His rough voice held a hint of amusement. “I’ve heard many things about you.” He stalked toward me, nothing but hulking muscles, every angle of his face sharp and cruel. But before he reached me, his gaze fell on Rhyan and he laughed. “Not even back a full morning and you already broke your nose?” He made a fist, his hand almost giant in size. I couldn’t even imagine the damage he could do with a single punch.
“It seems he cannot help himself,” Rhyan’s father said. “Now, my lady. How about we make you more comfortable? Then you can answer the Arkturion’s questions. Kenna, remove her binding.”
“W-What?” I stammered, and my eyes met Kenna’s. She looked just as bewildered. But she nodded and pulled out her stave, a traditional mix of pale sun and moon wood. As she quietly chanted under her breath, I felt the hold of the ropes weaken, and vanish. For the first time in hours, I was able to move, to flex my arms and feel my power surge up inside me.
“That was a show of goodwill,” Imperator Hart said.
“Lyr,” Rhyan hissed. “Don’t trust him.”
“Must we bind your mouth as well?” his father asked. “Dario—one more word from my son …” He didn’t finish the threat, only lowered his eyebrows. It was enough.
“Now, we can do this the hard way, or …” Imperator Hart’s eyes darkened. “Who has the shard?”
I refused to answer. Because my power was mine again, and Asherah’s chest plate was in view. A plan began to form in my mind.
“You stole a crystal from my land. Who has it?” Imperator Hart asked. “And I warn you, you’re running out of time to answer peacefully.”
Arkturion Kane circled around me, his body so close that his cloak touched my clothes, his breath brushed through my hair.
I began to chant. “Ani petrova kashonim, me ka el lyrotz, dhame ra shukroya .” I was sweating, my body already heating. “ Aniam anam. Chayate me el ra shukroya. Ani petrova kashonim.”
“What in Moriel are you doing?” Kane barked. “Your kashonim is bound.”
But it wasn’t. Not the one I wanted.
I took a deep breath, my heart thundering. It didn’t always work. I’d called on her before with no answer. But this time I felt it—the surge of power rushing through my body. My hair blew back from my face. My skin glowed red and then gold. I’d barely slept the night before, but I felt as if I’d just woken up. Every inch of my body felt strong, energized, and ready to attack.
I didn’t stop to think. I ran. My eyes on my possessions.
“LYR!” Rhyan screamed and then grunted in pain as Dario elbowed him in the guts.
I touched the dais, our weapons within reach. One blade to Kenna’s neck and she’d be forced to remove Rhyan’s bonds. That would be all it took before he jumped to me. We were getting the fuck out of here. And then we’d get Meera.
My fingers brushed the hilt of my dagger. But then a rough hand grabbed my neck from behind, and I was pulled back and slammed to the floor. Kane grabbed my hips and turned me over, smashing my back to the ground, my head just inches from cracking against the dais.
I saw stars in my eyes as Kane hovered over me, his eyes full of violence. But before he could touch me again, I kicked, my boot hitting his stomach with enough force that he fell backward.
I started to roll over when suddenly his entire body slammed over me.
I screamed.
Rhyan was roaring, even Kenna shouted for him to stop.
I kicked helplessly as he pushed down over me, reaching for my arms. I freed one hand, and made a fist. And with everything I had in me, knowing what he’d done to Rhyan, what he’d try to do to me, I punched him on the nose.
There was an awful crunching sound, and he screamed as blood gushed.
“You bitch,” Kane growled.
He shoved a knee between my legs, both hands around my neck, strangling me.
But I was already reaching for his eyeballs, prepared to gouge them out.
Suddenly, my body seized. My chest warmed. I was on fire. Everything inside of me was burning, heating and lighting up. I couldn’t feel Asherah’s power. Something else had overwhelmed it, had come between us. A golden light glowed beneath my tunic.
“What the fuck!” Kane released me, but I couldn’t fight back.
I was screaming. My body was engulfed in flames. I was burning, on fire. I couldn’t take it. It was too much. Too painful.
“By the fucking Gods,” Imperator Hart said.
Kane’s eyes were searching for the source of the light. He reached for my tunic, and ripped it open down the center.
No!
“LYR!” Rhyan screamed. He’d fallen at Dario’s feet, knees slamming into the floor. He was still bound, still tied up. His eyes were blank, his hands opening and closing like they had when he’d fallen at Asherah’s tomb. When he had a memory of Auriel.
And then I realized too late what was happening. What had triggered the Valalumir in my chest to ignite. Kane’s touch.
Kane was a Guardian.