Everlong (2 page)

Chapter Two

I jerked upright in bed as a scream ripped from my throat. I slapped a hand over my mouth while my body fought to flush the surge of adrenaline making my limbs tingle and muscles tighten. My heart pounded a deafening cadence in my ears as the remnants of my dream faded from memory.

Like all females of my line, I was night blind. Nothing permeated the absolute darkness surrounding me. My nighttime curfew had never been enforced since I didn’t dare leave my room after dark. Not all Evanti were as forgiving of my parentage as Harper, and their flawless night vision wouldn’t miss my bumbling attempts to find my way through the gloom.

Only the tangle of silken sheets around my ankles and the give of soft mattress beneath my palms assured me I was in my room and safe. Falling back into the pile of pillows littering my bed, I rested my palm across my chest. My heart punched urgently beneath my hand.

Was my nightmare the same night after night or something new? I didn’t know. I never remembered more than the sound of my own screams and the shattering sense of loss I felt upon waking.

The groan of metal twisting drew my attention in the direction I knew the door to be. Heavy wood creaked on worn hinges, spilling light into my room and illuminating the stark outline of my guest before the tumblers clicked back into place, locking him inside with me.

I heard a sharp, rasping sound seconds before the room began to glow.

“Bad dream?” Harper asked around a tongue still thick with sleep.

“No, at least, I don’t think so.”

I heard him move closer. The dim light cast from his oil lamp focused my eyes. The flame flickered and danced while painting fanciful reflections on the walls and floor. “I think tomorrow…” I glanced over at him. “I’m afraid.”

He didn’t waste words on placations neither of us would believe. “Move over.” His velvety whisper tickled my ears as the mattress dipped and he joined me on the bed. “Sit up.”

I arched a brow at him, watching his angular face soften with amusement.

His black eyes caught the light and shined with warmth while his full lips broke into a crooked grin. Then he softened his command. “Please.”

“You really shouldn’t have come.” He reached for me, but I batted away his hands. “You know what will happen if you’re caught in here after dark.” Thick scar tissue crisscrossed his back. Vivid reminders of the price he had already paid.

“Yes, Zaniah forbid the wolf bed down with his sheep.” His derisive snort brought a faint curve to my lips. “I was bred to serve you. I’m only doing what I was born to do.” His finger traced the slope of my nose. “Lucky for us both I enjoy my work.”

“Harper…” Archer had been right. I would have sold my soul to buy his freedom. What good were his wings if he would never be free to use them?

“Shh.” He pressed that same rough finger to my lips. “I’m yours, lady, and I will never leave your side.” He glanced around, seeming to survey not just the room, but the entire kingdom beyond the castle walls. “I could never leave you in this place.” Then his bright white teeth flashed. “And don’t think for a moment I would remain if not for you, and Emma.”

I playfully slapped his chest, content to pretend he, at least, had other options. Even if a haven existed, I doubted an Askaran royal would be welcomed there. Most likely I would be turned away, if not worse.

I’d heard whispers of an Evanti uprising. All of Rihos buzzed with the news of slaves gone missing under the cover of night and stores of food and supplies being raided. I was likely the only member of the nobility hoping, praying, that the rumors were true and wishing my slaves would vanish next.

Harper captured my hand where it still rested against his chest and pulled me into a sitting position. I flinched as pain seized my upper back.

“You don’t have to do this every time, you know.” I could only imagine how I appeared to him. Puny and pale, wingless and weak, nothing worthy of the devotion he gave me so freely.

“You might as well cooperate. I won’t leave while you’re in pain.” He tugged the hem of my nightgown up around my hips and exposed the pale coral of my silken undergarments.

“Stubborn male,” I accused.

Harper laughed, the sound as dark as the night surrounding us. “I’m not the stubborn one.” He tugged the sweat-dampened nightgown over my head to land softly on the stones. “Now, roll over.”

I growled at him, but the sound lacked any real heat. In truth, I needed the relief he offered me.

Flopping onto my stomach, I pushed my face into my buckwheat pillow. The hulls shifted and sifted around as they conformed to my new position. “Fine,” I groused. “Just don’t look, all right?” As if he hadn’t seen my back bared a thousand times since childhood. “I hate for you to see me this way.”

Wearing nothing but the same scrap of leather tied around his narrow hips, Harper straddled my legs and leaned over me, kneading away the aches sandwiching my spine.

“Oh, Maddie.” Sadness laced his voice.

The sound of his pity grated in my ears. I pushed up, but he forced me down with a gentle hand to the small of my back.

“I know they’re hideous,” I snapped, closer to tears than I cared to admit. “I told you not to look.”

“They” I called them, making it easier to forget
they
were a part of
me.

His fingers dug into the skin of my lower back still pinned beneath his palm. “You’re beautiful.” His warm breath fanned my skin. I shivered as he kissed the bony knuckles protruding behind my shoulder blades. “And you can have the use of my wings whenever you need them.”

His chest lowered to press against my back, and his leathery wings enfolded us like a living blanket. His bare skin warmed me. His chin rested on my shoulder, placing us cheek to cheek as his fingers interlaced with mine and tightened.

The steady beat of his heart soothed me, guiding my own to rest.

Morning had almost passed and noon approached in steady increments tapped out by my numb fingers against my slick thigh. Mother would arrive at any moment.

I heard the yawn of my bedroom door opening and turned too quickly, pitching forward on unsteady legs and cinching my fingers around the gilded frame of my oval mirror. Its spindly stand creaked against my added weight, but I couldn’t feel my hands to make them release the heavy wood. I couldn’t feel…anything.

A topical anesthetic saturated my skin, making it glisten in the morning light streaming in from the stained-glass windows. The herbal drink Emma had given me upon waking made my mind run in wider, looser circles.

“How are you holding up?” Emma padded softly into the room wearing a white silk robe tied with a sash around her waist. Her feet were as bare as my body. A bun tamed her riotous curls, pulling her eyes up towards her hairline and lending them an exotic slant.

“Goomph.” Dry and thick, my tongue rolled the word around, failing to get it out on the first try. “Good, I’m…good.” As well as could be expected, all things considered.

“Are you ready?” Her words were mumbled around the thumbnail caught between her teeth.

“It won’t hurt,” I slurred. “Harper promised it wouldn’t hurt.”

His desperation to make good on that promise had resulted in an extra hour, an extra application of the thick, gelatinous goo used to numb the topmost layers of my skin.

Through the haze fogging my mind, I looked again at the crisp, white silk robe Emma wore. It should have been slicked to her skin instead of floating just above it. Dread pooled low in my belly. “Why haven’t you been prepared?”

She wouldn’t look at me. “As a testament of my devotion to you, I’m to go through the ritual without aid.” Her voice hardened. “Father insisted.”

The bottom dropped out of my queasy stomach. “No, you can’t go through with this.”

“I have no choice.” Her chin jerked up another notch. “I will prove he cannot break me.”

“You don’t have to prove anything. You have me,
vinda larsh
, and I won’t allow you to suffer needlessly.”

“No,
vinda koosh
, you are the one who has me. I’ve been in your service since the day you were born.” She laughed bitterly. Then her attention settled where I grasped the mirror’s frame. “What’s that in your hand?”

I glanced down, having forgotten I still held a missive now pasted to my skin. “This arrived shortly after you left.” I passed over the limp document bearing the royal consort’s black wax seal. “I assume to give me time to come to terms with the contents before facing you. Archer must have known you would try and talk me out of it.”

Emma scanned the document with a downward sweep of her eyes. “Zaniah be merciful,” she whispered. “You can’t mean to go through with this.”

“If I don’t, then you and Harper will be taken.” I faked interest in my ink-smudged fingertips. “Archer assured me of that.”

The paper edges tore where her fingers punched through parchment. “He can’t do this.” She crushed the note in her hand. “He won’t force this on you, you can’t allow it.” She stared at the paper like she would a serpent poised to strike before hurling it across the room.

“If I don’t agree,” I said, “then he will take Harper to the outlands and leave him there to work the silver mines until he dies. Can you imagine what that would do to him? Being trapped underground and never seeing the sky? Never using his wings?”

Her jaw twitched. I could almost hear the grinding of her molars, but she let me speak.

“And you? Sold into service as a courtesan? You are his daughter and he would offer you to the First Court vultures or the highest bidder.” I regained my balance and stared her down. “He will not have either of you. Not if I can stop him.”

She grabbed my shoulders and shook with enough force to rock me back on my heels. “Did you not see the price? He wants you to
claim
him. An ascendant has first choice of any male the night of her ascendancy. If you choose him, the queen will have to abide by your decision.” Her hands dropped. “We aren’t worth it. Nothing is worth enduring that.”

I cupped her face with my hands, smoothing my thumbs over her cheeks and down her neck. Little of her skin was exposed above the silk of her robe, but I hoped everywhere I touched would absorb the anesthetic gel coating mine.

“You are my sister, and Harper…” I thought of those coarse ridges marring his once satin skin. “I can name each whip’s mark and what he did to earn every lash. He’s paid enough for our friendship.”

“It doesn’t matter—”

I silenced Emma by holding up my hand. “If I accept Archer tonight, he will bring a notary and transfer your indentures to me.” The prospect almost made me giddy. I blamed the drink for making everything seem more agreeable. “You will both belong to me. No one could ever take either of you away. We’ll have to stay here in Rihos, but—”

“And then what? You will have
bedded
him. Do you honestly think he’ll stop after one night? He will never be satisfied. How can you sell yourself so cheaply? Where is your pride?”

“Pride isn’t everything. Not to me.”

“My pride is all I have.” Her pale cheeks flushed pink. “You are the princess. I am the handmaiden who is one step from being a First Court whore.”

Tears pricked my eyes, so I stared at the ceiling, counting gilded tiles until my vision cleared.

“Don’t cry, please. I don’t blame you for this. I’d rather you held my reins than anyone, but—”

“A slave is still a slave.”

We’d discussed this moment since we were old enough to understand the circumstances of our births. The complex tangle of lies and blood made Emma a slave while our elder half-sister, Nesvia, was first in line for the throne. She was the only child born to my mother and Emma’s father, and virtually a stranger to us both.

Since our monarchy was matriarchal, my birth had been acknowledged and my title secured.

Emma’s mother had been a young serving girl turned courtesan around the time of Nesvia’s birth, when Archer’s choice of marital activities was severely limited. Though Emma shared half Nesvia’s blood, she would forever be in service to the royal house, and because of that, to me.

“Yes,” she agreed. “A slave is still a slave.”

A new voice entered our conversation. “And a slave should always know her place, which is not bemoaning her station to her mistress. No matter how indulgent she may be.”

The rustle of heavy fabric sliding over stones announced my mother’s arrival. She wore turquoise gauze gathered at her shoulder with a silver broach to make a gown. Intricate tattoos covered her exposed skin, wrapping down and around the slender curve of her hip. Her shimmering skin looked dusted by fine diamond glitter. In all likelihood, it was.

“Madelyn, my dear, you look lovely,” she cooed, stepping around my nude body in a slow half circle.

Until my skin dried, there was little point in wearing clothing. The gel would only ruin the lavender silk robe draped across the foot of my bed. Mother had also sent the matching pair of slippers with ribbons for my hair as a gift. In return, she expected perfection. And I had to deliver.

“Thank you, Mother.” My swimming eyes fought to keep track of her languid perusal.

She clasped her hands eagerly. “Have you accepted any suitors?” She smiled coyly. “I know you haven’t lacked for attention. The males of First Court have had their eyes on you for quite some time. Did their solicitations arrive promptly?”

“Yes, I have received their mailings.” Bags of queries filled with tokens of esteem and empty promises for pleasure I had no interest in tasting had been arriving steadily for weeks. “But I have decided against accepting their very generous offers.”

I had, however, accepted another offer. Or I would when next I saw Archer. As much as I abhorred the idea of taking anything from him, agreeing to his demands would yield the greatest return. If I had to sell myself, I would take everything I could get to secure Emma’s and Harper’s futures.

Her mercurial temper flared in an instant. “Is this about that Evanti? Again?” Her eyes narrowed to thin slits. “You cannot lie with him. Not even tonight. Who knows what might happen?”

“Sex?” Emma supplied.