Sword of Darkness (6 page)

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Authors: Kinley MacGregor

BOOK: Sword of Darkness
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Even so, she refused to cower before him. “Have you any idea how upsetting it is to have no control over your life?”

He took a seat on the throne that was facing the fire, but he didn’t look at her. “Have you ever had control of your life, Seren?”

“I…” she hesitated before she finally answered. “Yea. I did once.”

A stool appeared so that he could rest his long, mail-clad legs upon it. He crossed them at the ankles as he stared at the fire. “And when was this?”

“Until you captured me.”

He snorted at that. “You had no control. You
told me yourself that you were forbidden to even leave that paltry town without permission from your master.”

“It’s not true. I am a freewoman. I had hope for my future. I had potential.”

He scoffed at her words. “Potential. A sad word, that. Have you any idea what it really means?”

“Of course. It means that at any moment, things could improve.”

He shook his head, but still didn’t look at her. “It is a word used by those above you to make you tolerate your present lowly status by hoping for something that will never be. There is no such thing as potential. It is only a lie peddled to imbeciles.”

She refused to believe his words. “You only think that because you had no potential,” she whispered angrily. Then louder she said, “What happened to make you so cynical?”

She wasn’t sure, but she thought he might actually be stifling a smile. “Life, my lady. Sooner or later, it destroys the potential in us all. As we strive like ants dancing to the command of our queen, it passes us by while we dream of a better place and time. Then one day all too soon, you awaken to find yourself old and shriveled, still working for others while you have nothing left but memories of work and suffering. Your potential gone, it leaves nothing in its wake. Nothing but hatred and bitterness to accompany you to your grave. You may take your potential if it comforts you. But I know the truth.”

Seren had never heard anyone speak thusly, and
in truth it made her heart ache for him that he had nothing to believe in. “And what comforts you, then?”

Kerrigan grew quiet at the question. At first she didn’t think he would answer, until his deep voice filled the emptiness. “Nothing comforts me.”

“Truly nothing?”

He didn’t look at her or respond as he stared into the flames.

Even though he scared her, Seren forced herself to cross the short distance between them. She stood just behind his throne so that she could watch him. He sat there quietly as if he were made of stone while the fire crackled and danced. The air was thick with the scent of wood and pine.

For some reason she couldn’t even begin to understand, she felt a peculiar urge to brush at his hair. Instead, she clenched her hand into a fist and rested it against the back of his throne.

“When I was a girl, my mother used to sing to me whenever I hurt. She would hold me close and promise me that one day I would have my own little girl to love. That I would find my place in the world and be happy. To this day, I think of my mother’s voice and it warms me. Surely you had a mother.”

He gave a bitter laugh. “My mother was a drunken whore who couldn’t abide the sight of me unless it was to blame me for her wretched state in the world. I assure you, I found no comfort in her mewling insults.”

Her heart ached for him. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like to be hated by the woman who
had birthed her. Instinctively, she reached out to touch him, only to have him grab her hand in a rough grip.

“What are you doing?” he asked angrily.

“I was offering you comfort, my lord.” She grimaced as his grip tightened. “Please. You’re hurting me.”

His black eyes bored into her. “That is what I do, Seren. I hurt people. Never let yourself forget it.” He let go of her instantly.

Seren rubbed her wrist where she could see a perfect outline of his handprint. “Have you ever tried being nice to anyone?”

He looked back at the fire. “Go to bed, Seren.”

Before she could move or speak, she found herself lying in the bed. She tried to get up, but couldn’t move. “I am not your slave, Lord Kerrigan. I am my own person.”

The next thing she knew, he appeared above her out of the shadows. His armor gone, he wore a loose black tunic and hose, with his sword still firmly buckled at his hip. The firelight flashed against the star medallion as it fell free of his shirt to hang in the empty space between them.

He held himself above her as he stared down at her lips. He ran one cold finger down her cheek. “You are at my mercy, Lady Star. You
are
my slave.”

She shivered even though a part of her found his weight strangely enticing. “I do not toil for you and I am not your property. I am freeborn and I shall remain that way.”

One corner of his mouth curled up into a taunt
ing expression. “And what of your apprenticeship?”

It angered her that he threw that in her face. “I will pay Master Rufus back…eventually.”

He cocked his head as he studied her. He moved his hand from her face to the satin laces that fell from the neck of her kirtle. He took one in his hand and rubbed it between his fingers. “Why are you so defiant of me?”

“Should I not be?”

Kerrigan was completely dumbfounded by her. No one had ever stood so strong against him. Not even Morgen. She knew when she was bested and she withdrew.

Yet here was this…servant girl. She had no magic powers. No alliances. She had nothing to barter with. Nothing. And yet she stood strong before him even though he scared her.

It was inconceivable to him.

His gaze dipped to her small breasts that all but disappeared while she lay on her back. There was nothing about her really attractive. Nothing except those vivid green eyes that seared him with her spirit.

There was a warmth inside her that reached out to him even more than the fire in his hearth. In his mind, he could imagine her naked beneath him. Imagine her sighs of pleasure as he took her until the boiling need in his blood was fully sated.

Those green eyes of hers taunted and defied him even now.

“Kiss me, Seren.”

Still she didn’t flinch or flee. “Is that a master’s order to his slave?”

One corner of his mouth quirked up into the first real smile he’d known in centuries. She was daring him. If he said aye, she would deny him. It was on the tip of his tongue to say so just to see her fire, and yet another part of him didn’t want to fight with her.

It only wanted to taste her again.

“Nay, lady. It is a simple request from a man to a woman.”

“But you told me that you’re not a man.”

He shook his head at her continued argument. “Kiss me, Seren…please.”

Seren held her breath at that one word she was sure this man never spoke. The reason inside her said to push him away, and yet she didn’t dare to truly anger him. He could have his way with her, and she was lucky that so far he found her amusing and not annoying.

What harm could come in just placating his one request?

Her heart racing, she lifted her head up ever so slightly to place her lips to his.

Kerrigan fisted his hand in the furs of his bed as her hesitant tongue swept against his. Cradling her head in his left hand, he laid his body down so that he could feel every inch of her body pressed against his.

Aye, this was what he wanted. A warm woman to hold. A virgin mouth that had been tasted only by his. A guileless woman who spoke her mind without malice, slander, or fear.

Most of all, a tender touch that didn’t demand or hurt.

All it did was soothe.

Closing his eyes, he savored the rich scent of rose and woman as she sank her soft hand into his hair. She didn’t pull at his hair, didn’t nip painfully at his lips. She stroked him with a gentle, caring touch.

He’d never before known the like. The newness of it haunted him. Touched him.

Seren groaned at the wicked feel of Kerrigan kissing her. The swell of his groin pressed demandingly against her hip as he deepened his kiss. It was hungry and devouring, and it stole the very breath from her.

His tunic melted from his body as he moved from her mouth to bury his lips against her throat where his dark whiskers tickled her skin. The coldness of his naked flesh sent chills over her even as desire heated her body. It was such a strange sensation—hot and cold clashing inside and out of her.

He tasted so good and felt even better. She’d never had a man hold her like this. If she didn’t know better, she might even think that he had feelings for her. But that was foolish. He knew nothing of her and she knew nothing of him. They were strangers and he held no feelings for anyone. He’d told her that.

Even so, Seren trembled as she ran her hands over his naked back.

At least until she felt the deep ridges on his flesh. Shocked by them, she opened her eyes to see the deep scars that bisected his back.

“Who beat you?” The words were out before she could stop them.

His eyes turning red, Kerrigan pulled back with a hiss as his black tunic reappeared to cover those scars. “Sleep, Seren.”

“But—”

“Sleep or be raped,” he growled in rage. “Decide!” The shout rang against the stone walls.

That was a choice? Swallowing at his untoward anger, she immediately rolled over to give him her back.

Kerrigan fought for control as he again faced the fire that did nothing to warm the coldness inside him.

Take her!

To what purpose?

Aye, he could rape her. Or use a spell to make her welcome him even. But in the end, it would be nothing more than a passing amusement that could be found with any wench in Morgen’s court.

In the morning he would awaken with her blood on his sheets and body, and his loins would ache anew. He would still be restless.

Nothing would change.

Nay, that wasn’t true. Seren would be changed. She would be violated, and the fire that burned so bright in her green eyes would be extinguished.

Finally, she would be defeated.

He didn’t know why the thought of her being broken disturbed him so, but it did. More than anyone, he understood the pain of betrayal. The lasting sting of humiliation as others abused him
while he could do nothing to stop them. There was nothing worse in this world or beyond it, and for the first time since Morgen had found him, he didn’t want to lash out in anger.

He wanted…

Kerrigan paused as he realized he didn’t even have a name for what he wanted.

Returning to his throne, he looked to where Seren lay in his bed. She was ramrod stiff.

“Relax, Seren,” he whispered softly.

She stiffened even more.

A slow smile curved his lips in humor as he whispered a spell for her. Even so, she fought it until he forced her to sleep.

Kerrigan shook his head at her as she finally relaxed and succumbed to his spell. He was beginning to see how it was that his little mouse would birth a Merlin. No doubt she would be the kind of mother she’d described to him. One who held her child to her bosom with love and not resentment.

The babe’s father wouldn’t be some nameless man who had paid for her body and left his seed inside her to take root and grow into a despised abomination. Most likely the father would be someone she cared for.

Someone she gave her most prized possession to.

Untoward rage gripped him.

The thought of one of the knights of Avalon inside her was enough to make his blood boil. They were mewling half-witted bastards who didn’t deserve something like her.

She was…

She’s a pawn.

Pawns didn’t matter in the game. Only winning did.

Kerrigan let out a disgusted breath. What was wrong with him?

I’m too idle.

Aye, it wasn’t in his nature to sit and do nothing. But he didn’t dare leave her unattended. There was no telling what Morgen might do should he leave Seren alone. Growling, he rose from the throne to open the door he conjured to the side of his hearth.

He pulled up short as he found Blaise in his council room. In small dragon form, the beast was curled up on his desk, draped around the very orb he’d come seeking.

“What are you doing?”

The mandrake opened one violet eye to peer at him. “Sleeping.”

“I told you you were excused.”

Blaise closed his eye as if unconcerned by Kerrigan’s wrath. “And I angered Morgen tonight. I thought it best I sleep elsewhere until she becomes distracted by someone else.”

The mandrake had a point.

“I want my ball, dragon.”

Yawning widely, the mandrake slid from the crystal to the desk, then crawled to one side where he again coiled up to sleep. Kerrigan ignored the mandrake as he circled his hand over the crystal and concentrated on the Lords of Avalon.

A deep, red mist cleared to show him several of
them in a boat, leaving the shores of their land, no doubt to find Seren and bring her home.

He curled his lip at the sight of them. For all he knew, one of them could very well be the future father of Seren’s child.

The thought singed him. Thumping the ball, he sent a wave crashing against them. Their boat overturned and sent the men scrambling. They shouted as their heavy, mail-clad bodies sank quickly to the bottom of the sea.

“Now that was real mature,” Blaise said.

Kerrigan turned to find the mandrake watching him. “Did I ask for your opinion?”

“Nay, but I felt the need to give it.” Blaise stretched and yawned before he turned over to expose his scaly belly so that he could sleep on his back. “At least you were kinder this time.”

“How so?”

“They’ll all live. What has possessed you to such mercy?”

Kerrigan shrugged. “Dead, they pose no challenge to me. Besides, I can’t kill them while they’re in Avalon and they know it. I can only make them miserable there.”

Blaise snorted a small wisp of fire.

Silence fell between them while Kerrigan opened and closed several books around him. He paused as he uncovered a portable DVD player that he’d brought back from the twenty-first century. A slight smile curved his lips as he considered Seren’s reaction to something that future mankind would find trivial.

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