3. Calista
3
CALISTA
My arms were locked around the torso of his armor, and I didn’t slacken my hold even when the ride was smooth and straight. My cheek was pressed to his back, and I looked down at the dark world below. It was a sea of blackness until distant lights became noticeable, the flicker of torches. When I looked the other way, I saw the clouds just slightly overhead, the fluffy pillows that were visible in the early stages of dawn. The sky had faded from a heavy black to a deep blue.
When more torches were clear, I knew we were approaching a heavily populated area. And when the light rose up in the sky, I could distinguish the outline of the castle, torches lit along the stairs of the keeps and battlements. When Shadow Stone had been Kravensworth, I would visit with my father once a year, in the spring when the temperature was mild and travel was easier.
Khazmuda suddenly dipped and began a descent, circling the castle in preparation to land.
My arms tightened around his torso, his flank so wide it was hard to clasp my fingers together in the center. The air continued to blow my hair back, and my cheeks were frozen from the cold. The heat from the desert was long gone.
Khazmuda dipped farther, and my weight pressed against the king’s at that angle. He didn’t move, supporting my increased weight without seeming to notice it. Then the dragon pulled up quickly and righted himself before he landed on an embankment of the castle. It was a heavy thud, and I felt the collision on each vertebra of my spine.
We finally went still, and Khazmuda lowered himself to his stomach to make it easier for us to climb out of the saddle.
The Death King didn’t wait for me. He threw his leg over the side then slid down the rope that bound the saddle in place. When I didn’t immediately follow, he looked back up at me.
“Sorry…I think I’m a little sick.” The abrupt stops and turns made my stomach do all kinds of uncomfortable things.
“You’ll get used to it.”
“I doubt I’ll ever ride a dragon again.” I then did as he had and slid down on the rope to the stone below.
The soldiers who were stationed there began to work on the dragon’s saddle, removing it from his flank so he could be free of the binding.
The king said nothing to them and walked forward toward the double doors of the keep.
I got a better look at Khazmuda in the torchlight and coming dawn, unable to believe I’d ridden atop that beast the whole way here. He was the only dragon in existence, and I’d been lucky enough to ride him…even though it made me sick.
When I felt the king’s stare, I turned to meet it.
“Magnificent, isn’t he? I remember the first time I saw him.”
As do I.
The king’s stare continued, dissecting my face in silence, his thoughts a mystery. His eyes shifted back and forth slightly, his mind working hard behind that gaze. That sun had just peeked over the horizon, so the formerly dark sky was now splashed with purple, pink, and orange, the dawn of a new day. “I know your face.”
Like my life depended on it, I kept my features as stoic as possible. I gave no reaction, no indication that we’d met before, because if he figured out who I was, he might kill me. He’d spared me once because I was a child, probably assuming I would die by someone else’s hand. But now that I was a grown woman, he would show no mercy.
The stare continued, but no interrogation followed.
I held his gaze as long as I could before I finally broke it, his stare like a knife between my ribs. I’d been the recipient of the hungry stares of men since I became an adult, but none matched the intensity the king produced. It showed a spectrum of his emotions, his rage, his focus, his confidence, his intelligence.
In the short time I’d been in his presence, I’d quickly come to understand why he was able to conquer an entire continent single-handedly—even without a dragon.
He moved through the double doors of the keep, and I followed, unsure what else I was supposed to do.
He took the lead, moving down the circular staircase until he entered a main hallway in the castle. The floor was hardwood but covered with a deep mahogany rug. The air was instantly warm compared to the cold outside, the fireplaces throughout the castle all lit to fight the winter.
A man dressed in armor was there to greet the king with a quick bow. “You’ve returned quicker than we expected, King Talon.”
So he had a name. A real one.
The Death King completely ignored that. “Provide her accommodations and security. She’s not permitted to leave the castle. And if she tries, kill her.” He didn’t even look at me before he walked away, moving down the hallway, his immense presence making the hallway feel small. When he turned the corner and disappeared from sight, the light faded just a little, along with the warmth.
I nearly gasped when I walked into my bedchambers.
An enormous four-poster bed was against the wall on a thick rug, a grand fireplace was against the other wall, a small sitting area in front of it. The chamber had a separate bathroom and a balcony that overlooked the castle and the city as it stretched out into the distance.
I had been used to this sort of luxury once upon a time, but it’d been so long that I’d forgotten. The sheets were satin, the pillows stuffed with duck feathers, not a speck of dust found on any surface.
The first thing I did was drop my ugly clothes and step into the shower. I let the warm water rinse over me and carry away all the dirt and grime…and the general’s touch. Invisible scars were on my body from all the places where he’d touched me. No one could see them, but I could.
When I was done with the shower, I filled the tub with warm water and soap. The sun continued to rise and flood the room with sunlight and heat, and with my head propped on a towel, I dozed off.
It was the first time I’d let my guard down—because I was truly alone. General Titan was stationed across the desert in a permanent position, so I would never see him again. King Talon had vowed I wouldn’t do manual labor, so I didn’t have to worry about working my body until it was too tired to go on. I knew I would be given another purpose, but at least for now, I had no purpose at all. And I treasured that.
I must have slept for hours because when I came to, I realized the water had cooled to room temperature. The bubbles had popped and fizzled out, so there was a clear view of my naked body below. I wasn’t sure what had woken me up, but then I heard a quiet knock through the cracked door.
Footsteps sounded a moment later. Then I heard a tray being gently tapped against the dining table before retreating footsteps sounded. The chamber door shut, and the unmistakable smell of food entered my nostrils—and I knew dinner had been delivered.
I left the tub, dried off, and put on the robe hanging on the back of the door before I returned to my bedchambers. A silver tray had been placed on the dining table. It contained a bottle of wine with a glass and a plate of meat, potatoes, and steamed vegetables. There was an entire loaf of bread just for me.
I lit the logs in the fireplace then sat down at the table alone, eating in silence, truly enjoying my food for the first time in seven years. My meals had been either accompanied by a man I despised or by the relentless heat from the sun in the center of the sky. The food tasted so much better. I felt better.
I’d only been there for a few hours, but I felt like a new person.
When I finished dinner, I left the tray outside the door then sat on the couch in front of the fire. The flames licked the dry logs and made the wood pop when hot air became trapped in the cracks. Mesmerized, I just watched, enjoying the beautiful silence of my solitude.
But that joy was snatched away when the door opened without a knock.
I turned to look at who entered my bedchambers without permission, but I already knew exactly who it was, who would have the arrogance to enter a room where they didn’t belong.
King Talon shut the door behind him and entered my space, taking a quick glance around the bedroom as if he’d never stepped foot inside the place. After a quick sweep, his hard gaze landed on my face with a distinct thud.
I was still in the robe, and I absent-mindedly tightened it across my chest so he wouldn’t be able to see my tits down the opening in the front. I was petite in size and height, so everything fit me a little bigger than it should.
He continued his stare, as if he’d already spoken and awaited a response.
I stared back, refusing to speak first when he was the one who’d barged in here.
He was no longer in the beautiful armor that concealed his entire body except for his neck and face. Now he wore loungewear, soft black pants that highlighted the shape of his long and lean legs. He wore a black t-shirt that showed his arms, muscular and tight, covered in strained cords like little ropes tucked underneath his skin. His skin was slightly tanned, like he spent time outdoors without his armor, or he was just born with a beautiful complexion. His angry eyes were still glued to my face.
“What do you want?”
He took a couple steps closer to the couch, his unblinking eyes locked on my face. “That’s no way to address your king.”
He wasn’t my king. My king had been fed to his dragon once his kingdom and our way of life had been conquered. Innocents were randomly selected to dig in the desert. The strong were recruited to serve under his regime. Free will was stripped from all of us. “What do you want?” It was difficult to suppress my rage in his presence, the memory of my father’s dead body collapsed on the desk scarred my mind.
He stared for seconds, and like a blossoming flower, his rage slowly bloomed in his eyes. “I spared you from a life of forced servitude, and this is how you show your gratitude?—”
“Don’t act like you’re my savior. All men are out for themselves—and you’re no different. Now tell me what the fuck you want so you can leave me in peace.” I wanted to return to the silence of my bathtub, to my quiet night in front of the fireplace, where I could enjoy a night without shackles.
“Rise.”
“What?”
“I want you to rise.”
I got to my feet and faced him, a foot shorter, my head tilted back so I could meet his steely gaze.
His eyes dropped to the robe I wore, the deep vee that exposed the bare skin of my chest.
I wanted to tighten it further, but I thought it was best not to move.
His eyes lifted again. “Where are you from?”
My eyebrows rose, expecting a command rather than an interrogation. “I was born and raised on this continent. Where are you from?”
The anger was still in his eyes, like the flames that burned in the hearth. “Which kingdom?”
“What does it matter?”
“Answer the question, or I’ll make you answer it.” He didn’t raise his voice, but he made it sharper, like the tip of a knife.
I felt the energy in the room change, felt his hostility rather than watched it. “Scorpion Valley.” I almost lied and told him I was from somewhere else, but a lie was hard to maintain under interrogation, so I decided to speak the truth. It was to the north, directly next to the White Mountains, an area so inaccessible that no one resided in those lands.
“How did you end up in the Arid Sands?”
“Because your men dragged me from my home and forced me,” I snapped. “That’s how.”
“Diggers weren’t taken from Scorpion Valley, so you’re either lying or you lived elsewhere.”
“I fled for Crimson Tower after the kingdom fell.”
“The kingdom of Scorpion Valley didn’t fall. It was simply reclaimed.”
Spin it however you want. “Well, I chose to go elsewhere.”
“That was ten years ago. You must have been a child.” His eyes narrowed as he scanned my face for further scrutiny.
“What does that matter?”
“Why would your family leave behind their home to seek life in a different village?—”
“Both of my parents died in your siege,” I snapped. “So I left on my own. A family took me in, and then your men took me away to serve in the desert. That’s my whole life story. Are we finished?”
A painful silence ensued, one that was heavy with tension and suppressed rage. He still hadn’t blinked, his body clearly having different needs than others if he could maintain eye contact like that. “We’ll be finished when you tell me the truth.”
“I have told you the truth?—”
“Lies,” he snapped. “What’s your name?”
I thought quick on my feet. “Slave. That’s what your men called me?—”
“You think I won’t kill you?” He moved toward me, a single step crossing an incredible distance. He was in my face in just a second, his neck craned down for him to invade my space, to force the smell of pine and sandalwood to rush into my nostrils. “I’ll snap that pretty neck without a second thought.”
I instinctively stepped back, trying to get out of his reach before he could grab my neck.
But he didn’t pursue me again. He remained in front of the couch, staring me down with that blood lust in his eyes. He didn’t have his sword or his armor, so he was as vulnerable as he could possibly be, but I knew my speed couldn’t match his strength. His arms were like tree trunks, and mine were like twigs.
When he spoke again, his voice was a little more controlled. “Tell me.”
“No.”
His eyes narrowed. “Then you do have something to hide.”
“I’ve been bossed around the last seven years. My life has never been my own?—”
“You expect me to feel bad for you?” he snapped. “You think I’ll bleed tears for you? I couldn’t care less what you’ve suffered. Just as I don’t expect you to care what I’ve suffered. Now, answer me.”
I didn’t know what to do. I was cornered by a heartless dictator who didn’t seem to care about anyone or anything. “You wouldn’t have brought me here and provided me these beautiful accommodations if I weren’t valuable?—”
He moved fast, so fast that I didn’t have the chance to react and back up. He came at me, grabbed me by the neck, and then shoved me hard against the wall.
My back hit the solid surface, and the air left my lungs. I almost slipped down to the floor in shock.
“ Valuable ?” He grabbed me by the neck again and squeezed, cutting off my air supply as he pinned me in place. He dipped his head closer to me, dark eyes boring into mine with magnetic intensity. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “You think you’re valuable?”
When I grew desperate for air, I tried to wiggle free, to slam my elbow down on his forearm to break his grip.
He took the hits without a flinch, immune to pain, his vicious concentration unbearable.
I felt myself start to black out, to drift off.
He finally released me and stepped away, turning his back to me. “I grow tired of this game.” He turned slightly to the fireplace, the flames burning low because I’d started the fire hours ago. “Tell me your name. Or I’ll send a scout back to the Arid Sands, and the heartbroken general can tell me.”
I gasped for a few seconds to recover my breath, but I quickly stifled it because I didn’t want to look weak. I stared at his muscular back with rage, wanting to shove him into the fire and watch him burn. “Calista.”
That name didn’t seem to register because he had no reaction to it.
I moved forward quietly, staying out of his peripheral as I crept closer. What would I do once I got there? I didn’t know. But the urge to kill him swept through me. I wanted to kill General Titan, but somehow, I wanted to kill this egomaniac even more.
Just before I slipped my arm around his neck to choke him, he spun around and grabbed my arm, like he expected it.
He twisted my arm down and made me wince. “I’m your king—and you will serve me.”
My temper ran hotter than the temperature in the Arid Sands. The kind of rage that couldn’t be suppressed behind bones and flesh. It seeped out of me like poison through the skin. With the speed of a cobra, I punched him straight in the mouth.
He must have assumed I wouldn’t be so stupid as to strike him like that because he stumbled back slightly, the corner of his mouth immediately swollen and bloody. When his eyes found mine, they were a whole new level of livid.
Fuck, he was going to kill me. I backed up several steps, trying to give myself some kind of advantage with distance.
But he stood there and stared at me. His eyes were angry and guarded, but he didn’t move an inch. Didn’t react whatsoever.
That made me more uncomfortable because I didn’t know what he might do.
After another long stare, he walked to the door to exit my bedchambers. But before he left, he turned back to look at me, those midnight-black eyes terrifying, a drop of blood oozing from the corner of his mouth. “You will serve me.”