9781618851307WitchsBrewShayNC (26 page)

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“You
will employ whatever means are necessary to get Kali to safety, even if you
have to gag and bind her. She is in the utmost peril, Captain.”

“Bind?”
Koran T swallowed hard.
As in bond?

He
searched the king’s eyes but found only anxiety in the shimmering green pools.

Had
he heard the king correctly? Assessed his meaning accurately?

Was
King Darak, in fact, giving his blessing for him to mate with Princess Kali?

He
shook his head. There was no way the royal couple were simply handing their
daughter over to him trussed up like a damn turkey waiting for him to breed
her. Not him! Not with his bloodline in question.

What
the hell was going on?

“We trust your judgment in this matter, Captain. We have
no doubt you can handle our headstrong daughter. You will take your leave
immediately,” Darak ordered, not allowing him a chance to ask further
questions. “You will not contact me for any reason. You will wait for me to
contact you. That is when you will know it is safe to bring Kali home. Is
everything clear, Captain?”

As
mud!

Koran
T bowed. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

He turned on his boot-heel and started to the door, his
temper in shreds. They were truly nuts! Did they think,
believe
for a
minute, he could or would keep his hands off the princess at Beltane?

Not
hardly.

So
this was it then. This was how he’d go down. The king and queen had set him up
for a fall and fall he would, but he swore he’d take the lovely, but stubborn
princess with him.

“Captain?”

Koran
T halted his long strides at the king’s voice and turned around. “Sire?”

He kept his face blank and smooth, no betrayal of the
inner rage seething through his blood.

“We know our daughter’s a handful. Try not to think of
this as a punishment.”

“Your Majesty, I–”

“Think of it as a gift, a very precious one.”

By the gods, there was no mistaking the king’s message.
They’d just handed their daughter over to him to do with as he pleased. How
could they do that?

“We trust that no matter what happens between you and the
princess, you’ll do the right thing.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“Other than Valerian, trust no one outside the members of
the royal family,” the king warned. “And if the time should ever come, never
turn your back on Black Drayke.”

“I
never do, Your Majesty.”

“And
Captain,” Helayne said softly. “Good luck. Where our daughter’s concerned, you’ll
need it.”

Koran
T’s lips tightened. “Yes, Your Majesty. I’m afraid you are correct. She hates
me, you know.”

Helayne’s amber-colored eyes sparkled with silent
laughter. “Then it is up to you to change her mind…and her heart.”

“Your
Majesty?” Koran T choked. “I’d never touch—”

“We trust you, Captain,” the king interrupted. “Go. And
guard your back. Always guard your back and cover your trail.”

“Yes,
Sire.” Koran T closed the door softly behind him.

Helayne
flicked her mate a questioning glance. “Poor man, he doesn’t know what to
think.”

“I
think he comprehended our message just fine, my dear. It’ll take him awhile to
accept he has our blessing, but he’s a male, and it’s Beltane. He’ll claim
Kali.”

“You
are aware the captain’s in love with our daughter?”

“Of
course.” Darak nodded. “That’s why I trust him to see to her safety. He’ll not
allow any harm to come to her.”

Helayne
frowned. “We do him an injustice, Your Majesty. It’s Beltane. He’s a virile
waken
and in love.” She swallowed hard. “But he’s a man of honor. He’ll be torn
between duty and lust.”

Darak
laughed. “Trust me, my queen, lust always win. He
will
claim her.” Darak
took his mate’s hand and gently squeezed it. “We knew that before we decided to
send him to her. Let’s hope he loves her enough to be gentle when he mates with
her the first time.”

Helayne
blinked back tears. “Kali would never settle for gentle.”

Darak grinned and brushed a kiss against her lips. “I
know, my queen,” he said tenderly. “That’s another reason I chose Koran T. Kali
needs a strong man, one who can handle her but one who loves her as well.”

Helayne
sighed. “And what of our son? Talon? You approve of this interest he has in an
Impure?
I don’t understand why he’s been commanded to Handfast with her. I know you
realize the risks if they should have a child together. The child’s ability to
perform magic will be unstable.”

“I did not make the command, the High Wizard did. By law,
I cannot overrule his decision.”

Helayne hesitated a moment, clasping her mate’s hands in
her own and returning his light squeeze. “You know what Vox told us. Talon
couldn’t steal her soul. That means he must Handfast with her if he wishes to
save her soul from exile. An
Impure,
Your Majesty
.

“I know, but if it’s true that Talon is in love with this
witch, he’ll bond with her. The Wise Owl has said it will be and Katch has
commanded it so.”

“How do you think Talon will feel about Vox betraying his
confidence to you?”

Vox wasn’t betraying Talon. He’s the all-knowing Wise Owl.
He was simply stating what he saw and heard and how it affected Talon. Trust me.
His loyalties are to our son. I would see Talon happy, Helayne, that’s all
that’s important. If he and this
Impure
breed a child, whether the child
can perform magic or not, he’ll be loved. Will he not?”

“He?” Helayne sounded startled. “Did the Wise Owl also
tell you their first babe would be a boy?”

The king reddened. “Of course not, but we know it will be
so.”

Helayne
dipped her head, smiling. “You’re wise and knowledgeable, my love. I’m sure you’d
manage to command that the first grandchild be a boy.”

A
knock sounded on their chamber door. “Who would dare disturb us here?” asked
Darak.

Helayne
shook her head.

Darak
opened the door to Lieutenant Mavik, Koran T’s second in command.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Your Majesty.” Mavik shifted
from foot to foot, his discomfort at disturbing the king in his private
chambers apparent. “But there’s a witch waiting to talk to you in the council
chambers. She insists it’s important.”

“Not tonight, Lieutenant. I’ve settled in with my queen.
Tell her to make an appointment and come back tomorrow.”

“No, Darak,” Helayne said quietly. “You can’t turn away
one of your subjects. Go talk to her. I’m sure it’s important or she wouldn’t
be here this late.”

Darak
frowned. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“I’ll
be fine. If I need you, I shall scream.”

Darak
chuckled. “Very well. But this could take a while.”

“Go,
I’ll be here when you return.”

 

 

 

 

C
hapter
Fifteen

 

 

George
Burroughs was arrested in Wells, Maine.

 

~ Salem Witch Trials

May 4, 1692

 

Page Entry…

 

In 1556, Queen Shy-Ryn refused
to allow the wakens past the magical gates of Sanctuary. The coven would no
longer mate with the males of their species, but sought to procreate with
mortal men instead. Thus, a new species―Impures
,
were conceived,
diluting the pure bloodline of the race. The wakens took immediate dislike of
this new breed. They distrusted and detested them and forbid their entrance to
the immortal realms.

 

Shy-Ryn’s sister, Elsbeth,
along with the rest of the coven, sought mates during Beltane in the mortal
world. In the spring of 1683, Elsbeth met and fell in love with John Connor, a
mortal male.

 

Although it was not Shy-Ryn’s
intent for any of the witches to bond with an illumrof male, Elsbeth turned
away from the coven and bonded with John against the queen’s wishes.

 

Two years after they wed,
Elsbeth presented John with their firstborn, a daughter, Nyra. Two seasons
later, a second child, Kirrah, was conceived and born on All Hallows’ Eve as
are all witches.

 

Two years after Kirrah, Saylym
was delivered one minute after All Hallows’ Eve. Of the three daughters, Saylym
was the only one who bore the mystical, swirling tri-colored eyes of her
grandfather, the High Priest sorcerer, Katch.

 

~From the History of the
Winslow Witches.

In the Year of Samhain, 1690

 

 

 

Ru-Noc

Droth

City of the wakens

 

MeLora
Haven paced the length of the chamber room, furious that King Darak took so
long to make his appearance.

How
dare
he keep her waiting?

Did
he not realize who she was?

She
turned as the door opened and closed, admitting the king.

“Your
Majesty,” she gasped, curtsying as she wiped the anger from her face. “I’m so
sorry to bother you at such a late hour.”

She rushed over to Darak and grasped his hands. She
allowed her fingers to tremble and lowered her gaze.

For a moment, Darak was taken aback at the sight of such a
young, desirable witch rushing toward him. He grunted as she flung herself into
his arms and pressed her face against his chest.

“Oh, Your Majesty,” she sobbed. “I’m so ashamed that I
have allowed my fear to overrule my judgment. I should not be imposing on you
at such a late hour.”

“Now,
now, my dear,” Darak said gruffly, patting her back in a soothing manner. “No
need to worry your pretty little head about such things. You’re a female, and
females are naturally timid. You must be calm. Tell me what has you in such a
dither.”

MeLora
gave a delicate shudder and pressed closer. “I’ve heard a terrible rumor, Your
Majesty. It frightens me so. I don’t know if I have the strength to tell it.
I’m but a humble witch and bow to your greater strength.”

She
leaned back, thrusting her full breasts upward giving him a bird’s eye view of
her generous cleavage. Swiftly, she grabbed his hands and pressed them to her
bosom. “Feel how my heart pounds with fright, Your Majesty.”

Darak swallowed hard, suddenly realizing he had a very
sensual witch in his arms. And two hands closed around firm, luscious breasts
and…it
was
Beltane. The season was upon them and the gods help him, it
was promising to be a fruitful season.

And
a lustful one.

The witch’s mating scent flooded his nostrils. Oh, she was
deliciously hot! The rich spiciness of her fragrance slammed into his lungs and
shot straight to his groin. Hot and heady.

Intoxicating.

Darak felt his manhood twitch, rise, and begin to throb
with urgency.

Oh,
this wouldn’t do. This wouldn’t do at all. Helayne would
kill
him!

Worse,
she’d cast a spell on his
uh-huh
and shrivel it to the size of a worm.

He
shuddered. Just thinking about fucking this beauty—well—he wasn’t crazy enough
to bring Helayne’s wrath crashing down on his head. Darak cleared his throat
and stepped back from the tempting witch. His palms tingled as he reluctantly
released her breasts. “Nonsense. You summoned me, so tell me. I want to know
what has you frightened, my dear.”

Gods
help him. He didn’t really want to know one damn thing this sexy witch had to
say. He might enjoy the feel of those bountiful breasts in his hands, even
fantasize about getting in her panties, but that was normal reactions for a
virile
waken
at approaching Beltane. There wasn’t a male walking who
wouldn’t want to cast the beauty down, flip up her gown, and shove his cock
inside her.

He
was no different than any other
waken
. But he’d never do it.

He
loved his mate. In all their centuries together, he’d never once strayed.

He
shook his hands as they started to itch, then burn in a most peculiar way.

MeLora’s lips curved. “Oh, Your Majesty. I’ve heard there’s
a plot to overthrow the crown.” She rushed to him, locking her slender arms
about his waist.

Darak frowned. “Don’t be ridiculous. Where did you hear
this? And who wants my crown?”

And why did she look so triumphant? So deliciously
tempting?

Damn, he had to have her. His body felt on fire for her.

MeLora tilted her head and licked her lips, then breathed
in an unsteady voice, “Your son?”

Darak laughed. “Don’t be absurd. My son will inherit the
crown anyway.” He rubbed his hands down the seams of his pants. Why did his
skin itch so? It was driving him to madness. He couldn’t concentrate on what
the sexy witch had to say to him.

“Not your elder son, Your Majesty…but your second-born…Talon.”

“No, I don’t believe that.” Darak shook his head in
denial. “Talon would never—”

“Oh, but Your Majesty, I’ve heard that Prince Talon is
very angry with you and the guild. He made his boasts about Droth and he plots
to overthrow you, Sire. He speaks of separating Prince Stry’s soul from his
body and sending his spirit into exile.” MeLora lowered her head, giving the
impression of shyness. “I’m sorry, Majesty, but I’m afraid Prince Talon has
been dabbling in the Black Arts. He craves power.” She gave a tremulous smile.
“He wants the crown for himself.”

“Calm yourself, my dear. I think a glass of wine would
perhaps soothe your nerves.”

She looked up, a smile on her lips. “Yes, of course. That
would be perfect.”

Darak jerked as she slid her hand down his stomach, her
fingers scant inches from his zipper. He cleared his throat a second time and
wiped beads of sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. “But of course, my
dear. I want you to tell me everything you’ve heard.”

BOOK: 9781618851307WitchsBrewShayNC
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