King of the Unblessed Page 19

  “Why?” Juliana gasped as they were once more on the hall floor.

  Merrick looked at her and smiled. Kalen came up to him, holding a gold arrow between his fingers and wiggling it back and forth. The arrow was a sign of war from Tegwen. “It was found before the main gate.”

  Merrick nodded. To Juliana, he ordered, “Stay here. Do not try to leave the palace. I will not be pleased if I must stop you.”

  Her whole body shook as she nodded in agreement. Merrick wanted to touch her, reassure her, but he held back, instead forcing a look of dispassion to his face. He couldn’t be seen as weak. He motioned to Iago, ordering him to stay with her. The Berserks joined him as he strode from the hall.

  Merrick climbed to the high round window, looking through the carved stone depicting the silhouetted head of a dragon. It was a larger version of the window overlooking the entry to the Black Garden. Outside his palace, down the long, rocky path, he saw a single bonfire.

  “Things are not all that they seem with this war,” Kalen said thoughtfully. “But I will gladly take my men into battle for you.”

  Turning to Kalen, Merrick said, “Send your men out.”

  Kalen nodded, grinning down at his men. He jumped off the high platform, landing on his feet down below. “Come, men. Let’s play.”

  Merrick watched the warriors run from the palace. He knew he could join them, was not scared to, but there was no point. The real war had not started. Let Kalen’s men have their fun this night.

  * * *

  Juliana watched Merrick leave her in the crowded hall, followed by Lord Kalen and his barbaric-looking warriors. When she glanced up, the ceiling was back to normal and the tapestries had turned blood red, embroidered with the scene of a battle. Surely that was not a good sign.

  “You show your fear too plainly, lady.” A weathered voice broke into her thoughts. Juliana looked to her side. The old hag stood close. She smelled of curdled milk and rotted meat. A scar slashed across one of her eyes, closing it beneath a flap of skin. “He gains power from your fears.”

  Juliana tried to edge away from the woman, but the hag’s bony hand gripped into her arm. Trying to get free, Juliana demanded, “Unhand me.”

  “It is you who caused this,” the hag said before Juliana could step away.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You were blessed by Merrick’s brother, King Ean, and Merrick took you from it. You were to live a happy life and now you are bound to darkness. King Merrick only wanted you to start his war. He cannot love you.”

  Juliana stiffened. Merrick didn’t want her. He wanted to start a war with his brother. It made sense. It wasn’t out of tender sentiment that he did those things for her. The war had started the moment she bound herself to him. That could not be coincidence. She tore her arm from the hag’s grip. Without speaking, she numbly walked through the crowd, making her way abovestairs to the bedchamber. There was much she had to think about.

  * * *

  “My king.” Gregor bowed low before King Ean on his throne. His red tunic stood out amongst the lighter clothing of the creatures of his court. They were celebrating, for no real reason except to alleviate Ean’s tension. It wasn’t working. “Lord Kalen’s army joins King Merrick in Valdis.”

  Ean closed his eyes, sighing heavily. So much for trying to relax.

  “We found this at our gate,” Gregor said. He set a black arrow on the floor at Ean’s feet. Those gathered in the hall gasped. “A lone bonfire burns beyond the gate.”

  Ean stood, nodding slowly. He looked at the faces of his people, turned to him in worry, needing his wisdom and guidance. But who was there to guide a king? Ean took a deep breath and let it out slow. “Call the men to arms and summons our wizards. It has begun.”

  * * *

  Mia looked up from Lucien’s bed where he’d left her chained. A thin trial of fire came from beneath the door, snaking over the stones. The light gauze hanging from the ceiling fluttered away from the flames, parting to let it pass. The fire grew, forming into the shape of an old hag. The woman came toward the bed, reaching a bony hand to stroke Mia’s throat down to her stomach.

  “You look hideous,” Mia said, her voice hard. She wore a red silk chemise that barely covered her body from view as it molded to her skin. Even so, she was warm from the fire that burned in the oversized fireplace. Though the dark furs were soft, she was numb from lying in the same position for hours.

  The hag’s face shifted into a frown, as she waved her thin arm past her face. Her body shuddered and the glamour faded from Lucien. The bony hand on Mia’s stomach was replaced by his dark flesh. “Better?”

  “No,” Mia said, turning her face away.

  “You’re still pouting over our fight?” Lucien laughed.

  “You left me here,” Mia said quietly. “Tied to the bed.”

  Lucien trailed his fingers over her, teasing her flesh buried beneath the red silk of her gown. Mia squirmed, but she couldn’t get away from him. “And so beautifully tied you are.”

  Mia didn’t move as Lucien lifted his hand. A fiery rose grew from his upturned fingers. Lucien held the flower and drew it over her gown, burning the silk. Her breath caught. There was something seductive to his dangerous games. Smoke wound into the air, curling and twisting from where his rose touched her. He parted her gown, brushing it aside so she was left naked. Her body ached for more. Not touching her further, he stood, smiting the rose.

  “Where did you go?” Mia asked.

  “To a celebration,” Lucien said, grinning. He laughed to himself, looking more at the floor than at her.

  “Where?” Mia asked, her tone accusing.

  “Valdis. Lady Juliana pledged her loyalty to Merrick tonight.” Lucien glanced at her, motioning to free her arms. She pulled them to her side, sitting up. Tugging the chemise, she hugged it over her breasts. Along the floor, small figures made of fire fought each other. It looked like a human battle. Flaming arrows shot through the air at a blazing castle, and a knight fell down into the fiery moat, clutching his gut. The sound of death echoed faintly, punctuated by the clash of metal and stone.

  Mia turned her attention to the bed, tired of watching his plays of death and destruction. She untied her legs while he was preoccupied with his battle. Standing on the bed, she turned her back on him and stretched her arms over her head. Her gown flopped to the side and she tried to pull it together to hide herself. The sounds of battle didn’t stop. Warm arms wrapped around her from behind, pushing the torn chemise apart once more.

  “Ask me what happened. I find I like telling you,” Lucien said.

  Mia closed her eyes, hating how he made her feel. “What?”

  “Lady Juliana pledged her loyalty. She thought Merrick might care for her, but I let her know differently. She knows she’s the cause of a war that has started between Tegwen and Valdis tonight.”

  “Merrick marches on Tegwen?” Mia gasped.

  “Nay, the arrow of war was shot at his gate,” Lucien said. “It has begun.”

  “You started a war?” Mia asked, pulling away from him. He let her go. “How could you?”

  “Nay, I didn’t have to start it. I merely influenced others.” Lucien touched her cheek, caressing her with the backs of his fingers. “All the pieces are falling together so perfectly. An arrow was shot at Tegwen tonight as well. No one will ever know who started the war and why.”

  “Why, Lucien? Just let them be. Stop this,” Mia begged. She searched him for a sign of compassion. Every once in a while she saw a glimpse of something more in him, felt a conflict between man and beast.

  “It is too late to be stopped. Merrick will send his armies to conquer Tegwen. King Ean does not yet know there are forces in his own home plotting against him. He will believe Merrick started the war. I will let Juliana be for now. Her anger will simmer and she will torture Merrick in a way only women can torture.” The floor changed. The human battle disappeared, the flames growing to illustrate Lucien’s words as he
spoke. A figure of Juliana appeared before a fiery Merrick. The Unblessed King pulled her arm as she struggled to be free. “As soon as the damage is done between them and cannot be repaired, she will run away. Merrick will come to me to get Juliana back.”

  Mia watched Lucien’s face. He was staring at his own creation. Merrick disappeared, turning into a miniature castle.

  “Lord Bellemare will trade his soul for his sister’s safety,” Lucien continued. “Bellemare will fall into ruin, its blessing ended. My demons will rule Bellemare and I will control its armies. Darkness will spread throughout the mortal realm until it is so thick I can pass through the gates and claim it as mine. I will rule both realms, Mia. It will be a glorious time of death and pain. Mortals will worship at my feet, sacrificing each other to appease me. I’ll be a god.”

  Mia didn’t move. Lucien studied her strangely, in a way she’d never seen him do.

  “You will be by my side to see it all,” he said softly, almost tenderly. “I will make mortals worship at your feet.”

  Mia shook her head in denial. She could barely whisper the words, “No, Lucien.”

  “You reject what I offer you?” he asked, his eyes filling in with red. They still stood on the bed. Mia jumped off the side, running for the door. Lucien was there when she reached it, blocking her escape. Angry, he yelled, “You came to me. You asked me to take your soul. I only took part of it and now you reject my offer?”

  “Lucien, please.” She touched his arm, gently patting him. Frightened, she reached her arms around his stiff neck, hugging her body to his. Her naked skin touched his chest where the gown parted. He didn’t move. She stroked his dark hair, trying to calm him. He breathed heavily, not moving to hold her. Mia rubbed her cheek to his, running her hands over his neck and shoulders. “Sh, Lucien, please.”

  “Love me,” he demanded, his voice demonic.

  “I do,” she whispered. A tear slipped over her cheek.

  He grabbed her chin, his fingers bruising as he pulled her face away from his chest to look at him. There it was again, that look. He was torn. “Prove it.”

  With a hard toss, he threw her to the bed. Mia closed her eyes, trying not to cry. She was in love with a demon. No, not just a demon. She was in love with the king of all demons.

  * * *

  “You tricked me into giving my word. You manipulated me, Merrick.”

  Merrick sighed, looking at Juliana’s back. She lay on his bed. The room was his, but he’d been letting her sleep there. Now that she had pledged her body, he would not be staying away. He’d been up most of the night with Lord Kalen and his men. After the guests had left, they sat around talking, strategizing. The bonfire was abandoned. It was just a simple warning that Ean’s men had been there.

  “You look uncomfortable.” Merrick motioned his hand, giving her a nightdress. Her gown changed to a loose-fitting silk chemise with sheer sleeves. She’d already taken off the jewels and he saw them on the table next to her toiletries.

  She tensed, pushing up from the bed. “I’m tired of you doing that. I want to dress myself. I want to pick my own clothes. I’m tired of looking like a…” Juliana’s mouth worked as if she tripped over the words. “Like a woman of low morals.”

  “I dress you in the materials of an elfin queen,” Merrick stated. As he lay down, his clothing disappeared, leaving him naked. His crown faded into nothingness. He rested on his back, folding his hands behind his head. “Whores have no need of clothing.”

  Juliana’s mouth worked as she eyed his naked body. He winked at her, smiling. Fighting the urge to laugh, she asked, “Are you…saying you’re a…?”

  “Man of low morals?” he prompted. “Most definitely. It comes with the crown.”

  Juliana giggled, covering her mouth. She hit him lightly on the arm. “I’m angry with you. Stop making me laugh.”

  “What is it I have done now?” Merrick sighed. Would she never be pleased?

  “That old woman tonight, the one with the missing eye. She said that you kidnapped me to start a war.”

  He said nothing.

  “So it is true?” she said.

  Merrick reached for her. She was always so quick to think the worst in him. But could he blame her? Everyone expected the worst out of him. He’d long ago stopped explaining himself, knowing it would do no good. For some reason, even as he resolved to let her think what she would of him, he found himself saying, “A war has started because I’ve taken you. I did not take you to start a war.”

  “Then why did you take me?” She moved closer to him. Her hair spilled over her shoulders in a messy array of curls. She’d taken it down on her own, but he found he liked the messy imperfection and did not change it.

  “Kiss me,” he said instead of answering. He expected her to refuse, but she didn’t. Crawling over to him, she lightly brushed her lips onto his, making a soft noise as they touched.

  “I shouldn’t want you,” she said. “I don’t want to want you.”

  “I know.”

  “You killed my intended.” Juliana didn’t open her eyes. Her hair spilled along his face. “You’ve tricked me and manipulated me.”

  “Don’t look to the past. It will never bring you peace.” Merrick closed his eyes. His body was aroused, but that was nothing new. He was always aroused by her. Her smell surrounded him, so sweet, so soft. She was so beautiful, the one thing he enjoyed looking at in his world of goblins and trolls. “Touch me, Juliana. I want you to make love to me.”

  Merrick wanted her to get used to him, wanted her to touch him when she had the urge to do so, to not hold back. Juliana feared her feelings for him. Humans were strange creatures when it came to passion. They treated it like a curse. How could something that felt so wonderful, so completing, be a curse?

  * * *

  Juliana trembled, understanding what he was asking of her. The soft glow from the fireplace cast over them. She slowly touched his chest. It was late, but somehow the second he walked into the room, she wasn’t tired. Exploring with her hands, she ran them over his flat stomach, along his sides. He was in top physical shape and, as she looked at him, she knew that would never change. He would always be as beautiful as he was now. If she didn’t stay with him, her body would grow old. She would die a mortal death. His offer of eternity was tempting, but would his beauty fade from her eyes even as his body stayed the same. In a year, ten years, fifty? What would she think of the choice? What would he? What if someday he looked at her, or became angry, and decided to take the gift back? Would she then wither and die within seconds?

  “Make the flames blue,” she said softly.

  Merrick didn’t move. The orange fire turned to blue, casting a darker light over them. She continued to touch him, rubbing his skin, exploring and memorizing him as thoughts swam in her head. His breath deepened and he closed his eyes. Leather straps wound out from the headboard as he crossed his wrists. Juliana’s eyes rounded as he bound himself for her. The leather pulled his arms over his head, straining the muscles in his arms, trapping him.

  She ran her hands to his throat, wrapping her fingers around his thick neck. “I could strangle you.”

  “Aye, but I am not frightened.”

  “You trust me?”

  “More than you trust me.”

  Juliana leaned over and kissed his neck, nudging his chin up with her head as she replaced her fingers with her lips. She made love to him slowly, exploring every inch of him. Her fingers shook as she stroked his arousal, the two globes beneath. Even that part of him was strong, commanding. Merrick groaned, tensing and shuddering at her movements. His arms pulled the binds but the leather straps did not disappear.

  When he didn’t cause the nightclothes to disappear as he had before, she slipped them over her head. Merrick’s dark eyes watched her, staring at her stomach and breasts as she came over his body. His wrists stayed bound, though his strong arms pulled tightly against them. Juliana relished the control as she moved over him.

  Gu
iding his body to hers, she took him in. There was something powerful in controlling the pace and depth. She moved gently over him, raking her nails on his chest. Merrick groaned in loud approval. She kissed him deeply, writhing against his body. The tension built between them, rocking through her until she was thrusting harder and deeper. Their climax hit them at the same time, exploding in weak moans and heavy breaths.

  Only after they finally came down, gliding into a state of numbing ecstasy, did the ties unravel from his wrists, freeing him once more. Merrick wrapped Juliana in his arms, neither one of them speaking as they fell asleep.

  Chapter Eleven

  Thomas moaned in contentment, his body more than sated by the faery ladies in his bed. Their small hands stroked his chest. They’d made love to him endlessly for days, until he could barely remember his own name. They fed him, bathed him and slept next to his side. It was a pleasant euphoria and he never wanted it to end.

  “It is time to let him go.”

  Thomas heard the words through a fog. He groaned as the hands left him. His vision was misty, like a dream. He wanted them back, wanted them to touch him, hold him, kiss him. The faery queen appeared before him. Her wings shimmered like star trails as she moved. He blinked, trying to listen to her words.

  “It is time to wake up,” Tania said. “It is time to continue your journey, Sir Thomas.”

  “Journey?” he asked, not wanting the pleasure of the dream to end. His limbs were heavy, too difficult to move.

  “Aye, Juliana awaits you in Valdis,” the queen said. “You must go to her now.”

  “Juliana?” Thomas blinked, instantly sitting up on the bed. He grabbed his head, trying to clear it. “Juliana. Juliana needs me to go to her. We need to find Juliana.”

  “Get dressed, Sir Thomas.” The queen laid a dark blue tunic shirt and black breeches on the end of the bed, neatly folded. Thomas reached for them. The material was softer than anything he’d ever owned. His boots were on the floor, cleaned. “Hurry, Sir Thomas, so that you may dine before you go. Sir Nicholas and Lord Bellemare await you in my hall.”