Chapter 5
I t was at least two hours later that he and the other males returned to the camp.
Ilias searched for her amongst the throng of Drikierans, but couldn’t see her. He sighed, shrugging his game higher onto his shoulders before he followed the hunters over to a cleaning station. He plopped his deer onto the mound, eyes catching the gleam of a sword strapped to an obnoxiously broad back.
He’d recognize that stature anywhere. With large muscled arms folded across a chest that threatened to rip through the fabric of his shirt and legs the size of tree trunks, the male turned.
“Brother.” Ilias tipped his head forward in greeting, his stride slow as he approached the male who was now combing back thick, brown hair into a knot at the top of his head. Hazel eyes twinkled in the firelight, his tan face stretching into a smile when they landed on Ilias’s face.
“Brother.” The warrior greeted, pulling Ilias into a bone-crushing hug to snuffed the air from his lungs.
They pulled apart, both beaming with affection until Ilias glanced down at the scroll in Keegan’s hand. “What’s this?” He asked.
Keegan sighed, his own smile dulling as he handed his brother the parchment. Ilias took it, stomach falling slightly as he read over each sloppily written word, as if the author were in a rush. And based upon the letter’s contents, he could see why.
They were going back to Holiadon. The Credulans were impatient and demanded to see Kaya immediately or there would be war .
“You tracked us here?” Ilias asked.
Keegan let out a sigh, eyes narrowed and roving over his brother’s face—hovering on the sad look in his eyes that told too much. “Ilias, what in Cadaith’s name are you doing?”
Ilias looked up from the parchment, brow drawing together. “What are you talking about?” He asked
“We are brothers, Ilias. Though we don’t share the same mother, we have enough of our father in us for our faces to look the same. And I’d know that face anywhere.” Keegan signaled for him to walk with him and Ilias followed, the muscle in his jaw jumping and the letter crumpling in his tightened fist. “This is very unlike you. You are to be teaching her, not trying to fuck her.”
“I am not—that is definitely not what is happening here. It isn’t like that.” Ilias snapped.
“Then what is it, Ilias? Why don’t you want to take her back home?”
“I can take her back home. I’ll follow any order her father gives me, but I will not agree to the last part of this letter.” He was growing frantic, his pulse quickening as his fingers curled and uncurled around the paper, the last haunting line of that letter repeating in his head—stealing the breath from his lungs.
“What do you mean, you don’t agree ?”
Curl. Uncurl.
His chest hurt. Fingers starting to tremble.
“Ilias.”
Curl. Uncurl.
“Ilias, are you going to answer me?”
The Credulans and I have come to an agreement that their prince and Ailikaya will be wed to unite our nations and bring peace between Driikona and Credula.
Curl. Uncurl.
“Because.” Ilias finally spoke, his voice a desperate rasp, throat squeezed under the weight of his fear. “I… I think she’s my mate.” He didn’t need to look at his brother to know what kind of expression he’d find there. Bewildered. Perplexed. Disgusted , maybe. But Ilias couldn’t help it. None of this was under his control. It was the work of the gods, the very Mother that promised to protect them, but laughed at their greatest tragedies.
And this was his.
He’d never been worthy enough to keep love once he found it. It only made sense that Kaya, his mate , would be no exception.
As much as he forced himself to remain in denial about the primal urges that haunted him every second of the day, it took an arranged marriage for him to realize that he was not just imagining what he felt. It was real. Too fucking real.
━?○?━?○?━
Kaya looked at herself in the broken mirror. Though fragmented and distorted, the image of her dressed in the Drikieran garb was so vividly clear to her.
They painted runes onto her skin in the same black and gold they wore, dressed her in a shimmering gossamer fabric that they bound around her breasts, made an X over her stomach and then wove between her thighs. A skirt of the same material was tied around her waist, but all of that purple fabric did nothing to completely conceal the areas covered.
She felt vulnerable. Bare.
And spent enough time studying the runes to know that they called to Cadaith, calling for blessings of life. Strength. Fertility .
She shuddered, lifting her chin and examining her coal-lined eyes before she turned and walked out of the tent. The other maidens were waiting for her there, smiling at her, before they coaxed her towards the fire. The pounding of drums filled the air, laced with loud chants that made her heart thump rapidly in her chest. The others that accompanied her began dancing, twirling and bouncing around the lapping flames that seemingly tripled in size—stretching towards the ether, towards the moon that was bright and round in the night sky. Chasms filled with liquor were thrown into the fire, hissing against the cherry-red logs stacked in the center and sending sparks flying.
Kaya watched, her hands knotted in front of her. She felt small—out of place and so, so bare.
The watchful eyes of the males that surrounded them grew hungry and dark, silver life flickering behind them as the primal urge to claim took hold of their senses.
He’s watching you.
Dance for him.
She shivered, taking up one of the chasms placed amongst the logs and tossed it back into her mouth. The warmth of the alcohol spread through her chest, filling her with a heaviness that was almost instantly agonizing.
She felt the weight spread through her body, through her limbs, and her barely-covered torso. It settled, hungry and depraved, in her womb—in the part of her that hadn’t been thoroughly fucked in a long, long time.
“Shit,” she gasped, the overwhelming desire causing her body to rock forward, her hands pressing against her navel. “Kaya, you idiot .”
How she hadn’t come to the conclusion that this was a fucking mating ceremony was beyond her. She whimpered, eyes hopelessly searching the crowd for Ilias in hope that he would know what to do—that he could help her before she was whisked away into a tent somewhere with some strange male that was high on her pheromones.
Dance for him and he will come.
Oh, these bastards were really grating her nerves today. She hissed at them, feeling her shadows retract into her Core. “I don’t know how to dance.” She wheezed, legs rubbing together in desperation—for friction, for something—
She moaned, sweat beading at her temple as she straightened her spine and began to sway. Her movements were slow, guided by the unseen force within, until the pounding of the drums seemed to align with the beat of her heart. It consumed her, controlled her, forced her body to move.
“Idiot. I am an idiot.” Kaya gasped, the gossamer between her legs seemingly digging deeper into the swelling intensity between her thighs. She felt the heat of his stare before she could see him—felt his eyes on her, felt that pulling sensation that seemingly guided her to him. And then she looked up, her eyes round with a helpless plea as they landed on him.
Ilias .
Ilias.
Ilias .
His arms were folded across his chest, his lips pressed into a thin line as he watched her. She was still dancing, still spinning, still moving her body in sultry ways she’d never moved before. And he watched her .
The pulsing between her thighs grew stronger, her cries growing louder and louder and louder, until—
“Let’s go.” Ilias growled. With a hefty breath of air expelled from her lungs, he slung her over his shoulder as if her weight meant nothing—as if she were merely an obscenely aroused sack of potatoes.
Overwhelmed with what she could only think to call a sickness, Kaya didn’t even realize she was tossed onto a bedroll until she saw him looming over her, his hand outstretched in her direction and holding a cup. She blinked, panting and sweating, as a drop of water landed on her thigh. Even the touch of liquid seemingly made that fire in her veins burn hotter, burn deeper.
“Drink it, princess.”
Her lips parted, her chin lifting as she pushed herself up onto her forearms. There was a low rumble from deep within his chest, that dangerous silver light flashing behind his eyes. But Ilias knelt before her, his fingers forming a cup under her chin as he lowered the drink to her lips. The scent of chamomile and lavender hit her nose and she sighed into the steam. She drank in long, desperate gulps—the liquid instantly easing the heat in her chest. It spilled from the corners of her mouth, rolling down her chin, her neck, in between her breasts.
She moaned .
Ilias drew in a deep breath, the human voice in his head trying to wager with the side of him that was too primal to be rational. He could smell her arousal—felt the tantalizing hum of her erratic pulse, even while standing three feet away. It was a scent that had him wanting to bury his head between her thighs, tear that sheer fabric to pieces—
“Ilias, please.” Kaya was now on her knees, tugging at his arm in desperation. “Please help me.”
Her shadows flared from above her shoulders, weaving through the sheer fabric draped across her breasts, sliding the strips down her shoulders just enough that her breasts were fully revealed to him. More tendrils weaved around his arm and he fell to his knees, looking much like a male collapsing in front of an altar.
Their lips met almost instantly, his hands coming up to tangle in her hair—to bring her closer, to feel her skin against his. His hand moved from her hair to her neck, both of them groaning when his thumb brushed over the most delicate patch of skin along the side of it. It was her whimpering that pulled him from his pheromone-induced stupor. With an unsatisfactory groan, he fell away from her, quickly readjusting the straps of her dress before he rose to his feet again. He averted his eyes away from her spread thighs—teeth nearly turning to powder at the sight of her.
Even if it was his body’s natural reaction to such a pungent smell, he still felt horrible. Sick, almost. This ceremony was sacred to Drikierans, but Kaya had no idea what she’d gotten herself into. His senses were heightened, as was the smell of her arousal. It took all of the strength he possessed in his body to not to act on any of the wild fantasies plaguing his thoughts.
“Kaya,” he tried to breathe through his mouth, hoping that it would ease the overwhelming urges. “Kaya, please get off your knees. Stand up.” He was begging, his voice straining against the growl that threatened at the back of his throat.
She nodded, pushing herself up just slightly, only to collapse back onto the bedrolls. “I can’t.”
Ilias let out an exasperated sigh, dropping to one knee. “Listen, I need to talk to you. And I will need your complete and undivided attention when I do.” He reached into his pocket, retrieving the letter Keegan gave him.
Curl.
Uncurl.
Kaya writhed, hands brushing over her limbs to seemingly satiate an itch she could not scratch. “What is that?” She swallowed, her eyes flickering from the quickened pulse in his neck to the parchment bunched in his fist.
“Your father sent a messenger. And what I am about to tell you—” He sucked in a breath, jaw clamping together when Kaya began crawling towards him, her hands like fire on his skin when she took the letter from him.
He watched her eyes scan each word, watched as her brow crumpled, tears forming in her eyes.
A wave of nausea rolled through her stomach, jaw aching and pooling with saliva as she read the final sentence. It was a statement—a demand. As if she had absolutely no control over herself and that her desires and wishes meant nothing.
How could her father do this?
How could he use her as a bribe—as a way to keep his people safe?
She was one of his people, too. Holiadon was her home, too .
She felt her shadows start to tremble, the parchment in her hands fluttering as if her shadows had taken hold of her limbs. “I’m going to be sick.” The last word was clipped, her hand flying to her mouth as she launched herself to her feet and ran towards the opening of the tent. Her stomach contracted, throat burning with bile and remnants of alcohol and jam. Her brow dampened with a cold sweat as she fell to the earthen floor and vomited, tears burning her eyes.
Between heaves and blubbering noises, Kaya choked on her sobs—her heart feeling as if it was ripped in two. It was an unfathomable feeling of hurt and betrayal, overwhelming in such a way that her limbs ached.
Her father was a noble man. He was a fair and just ruler and he went above and beyond to provide for those he cared for. So the fact that he would simply throw her to the wolves and use her as if she meant nothing .
Memories flooded her mind, memories of a young girl perched upon her father’s shoulders as he walked her through the half-built halls of a castle that should have been, but was not, her home. Memories of gentle kisses pressed upon her brow as he tucked her in, of hiding amongst the overgrown and dense greenery behind their cabin—her father searching through the veil of foliage to find her and the way he smiled as he lifted her into his arms.
That girl had been a daughter .
Not a princess.
Not a Blessing.
She was Kaya. But it seemed as if the Dark Bringer had erased her identity completely and turned her into someone else entirely—at least in the eyes of Alder Aesa.
“Kaya—”
She growled deep in her chest, her eyes laced with pure venom and hurt when she cast her hateful glare upon Ilias. The male was crouched at her side, his hand hovering over her bare back. “Do. Not . Call. Me. That.”
Ilias let out a deep breath, swallowing thickly as he tucked his hand back to his side. “Ailikaya, I may have a solution to this. There might be a way to prevent this… marriage .” The word left a sour taste in his mouth, an unfamiliar rage flickering in his chest at the image of her at the hands of the Credulans. Splayed across their beds, wearing their colors—
He closed his eyes, suckling deeply at the air around him to calm himself. “You could marry me, instead. Right here. Right now.” Kaya’s eyes softened, her brow knitting together as she fell back into a kneeling position. “I wouldn’t expect anything of you. Hell, we wouldn’t even have to live with one another and I won’t touch you. There will be—”
“Alright.” She gasped, swallowing around the burning that still plagued her raw throat. “I’ll do anything. I can’t. I won’t commit myself to the Credulans. Not after everything they’ve done.” She palmed the tears off of her cheeks, smearing the black coal liner that had stained them. “Look at them, Ilias. Look at these people all around us—at the children who lost their parents, at those males searching for another partner because their loved ones died.” Another mewling sound formed at the back of her throat, her mouth opening and closing as if words were caught around the lump that had formed there.
Ilias went still. Everything went completely and utterly still. Because he’d been the biggest fool of them all to believe the image she tried so desperately to portray. Kaya was not spoiled, nor was she insensitive. She was just scared. Though the ways that she battled her fears were peculiar, they were her own. But before he could dwell any further on the thought, he was instinctively pulling her to his chest, wrapping his arms around her. To shield her from the world—from her heartbreak, from her tragedy. She shivered against him, allowing herself to feel his warmth against her cold, prickled skin. His heart beat against her cheek, his hands moving in a gentle caress, rubbing soothing circles into the bared flesh of her hunched back.
“I know.” Ilias whispered. “I know.”