The Queen's Consorts (26 page)

“Yes, how distasteful for you to have to actually do Laysa’s bidding out in the open,” Haven growled from the bed.
“Instead of operating like cowards behind our backs.”

Macro glanced at him out of his peripheral vision, seeing Haven, eyes narrowed menacingly at the intruders as his arm tightened protectively around Kayla. She let out a moan, a frown marring her beautiful face, making it obvious she was feeling his fear, but she didn’t stir more than that. Macro could barely get his arms to work, and Kayla was so slight in build. The effects of the herb had to be much worse for her.

Macro heard the soft scrape of metal against wood, telling him Haven had wrapped his other hand around his sword.

He turned back to their attackers, who all looked hesitant to start this battle. “We’re not going peacefully,” Macro assured
them,
knowing capture likely meant a death sentence. “You will have to run us through to take us.”

“All Laysa wants to know is where she is.” There was a pleading sound to Artland’s voice. “If you tell her, she’ll leave you be.”

“She?”
Macro’s gaze darted to the bed, his entire body tense as he fought the horrible haze of the drugs that still had a powerful hold.

“The queen.”

Macro turned back, blinking against the light again before it hit him in a rush. That wasn’t artificial light blinding him. It was
sunlight
.
Pure, unhampered sunlight.
It’d been almost twenty cycles since he’d seen it, and even in the face of eminent danger he couldn’t help but react to the phenomenon.

His arm fell slack in shock.

“Mac!”

He reacted on instinct, jerking his sword up and then deflecting the bolter blast simply from Haven’s warning. The two of them had been fighting together since they were young ones. Even drugged, certain things were ingrained. So he let his training take over, knowing he couldn’t just step aside even if the odds weren’t in their favor. At least a dozen soldiers filled their room, and there were more in the hallway. There was no chance, but knowing these men were
his
soldiers was horrifying. He’d been aware Laysa bribed many who served under him, but facing the cold-blooded evidence of it was something else. Many of these soldiers he’d trained since they were young ones; others, he and Haven had sweat and bled at their sides as they all suffered through the intense trials of military school. Now they had betrayed him in the worst way possible, and even more horrifying, they were likely going to send Haven and Kayla to their deaths too. He was going to spill a little blood for it.

The sun was out. Taryen and Calder had obviously managed to save their queen. Today was a good day to die.

He lurched forward and kicked Artland’s knee, forcing his leg to give out before he could react, and then drove his sword through the soft spot in his armor underneath his left armpit. He let out a furious growl as he did it, savoring the scream of shocked agony from Artland.

The other soldiers were stunned. Macro didn’t know why. They’d all been trained to die in the name of the queen, for honor. If they weren’t fighting for the queen, then they were against her, and that made them the enemy.

Haven wasn’t as flabbergasted. He leaped out of the bed, his cut and naked body a flash of tan skin as he slashed at the soldier behind Artland, who was now staring at the dying soldier’s convulsing form as if unable to believe their captain had just killed one of their own.

Haven carried the deadliest sword in the entire queen’s army; sharpening it was his favorite hobby. He sliced through the neck of their fellow soldier like it was bread rather than flesh and bone, nearly severing his head from the strength behind that one powerful attack.

He hadn’t even fallen before Haven growled. “What traitor dies next?”

Haven’s display was too lethal, too terrifying in its fierceness, and whatever last scrapes of loyalty the turncoat soldiers had evaporated. Though honor demanded the soldiers fight them with swords, there were suddenly bolter shots everywhere, bouncing around the room and setting it alive with blue fire. Considering the drugs in their system, Macro and Haven did a good job of deflecting them.

They’d been playing this game since they were young. Rather than let himself freeze with the knowledge that Kayla was behind them, Macro tried to put his mind back to those countless times where he’d stood back to back with his lifemate in the training center, dodging the blasts with the metal of their swords. It had always been one of their favorite pastimes, and all the military promotions hadn’t stopped the training games of their youth. They did their level best to keep the bolts from flying behind them, using their large bodies to block Kayla on the bed, but there were just so many of them. Their enemies had all come armed with two bolter weapons each, likely knowing they had no chance of beating their captain and his first lieutenant in hand-to-hand combat.

When Kayla let out an ear-piercing scream, Haven lost his concentration and turned toward the bed. Not having his lifemate’s back left his right shoulder vulnerable, and Macro shouted when he was hit. His knees gave out on their own accord, but then he locked his jaw against the pulsing pain bouncing around in his system. It wasn’t a kill shot. They were obviously trying to incapacitate them. Macro had taken a bolter shot more times than he could count. He was more immune than most, but it still made his arms useless. He could only blink and fight the pain rather than give them the satisfaction of knowing they’d hurt him.

Four more pulses racked his body as several of the soldiers surrounded him, but still he looked past the gaps in their legs and watched as Haven turned into a crazed madman. He stepped on Macro’s thigh as he jerked a bolter clean out of the hand of one of the soldiers shooting Macro and then shot the attacker in the face before he started aiming for others.

While still shooting, Haven wrapped his free hand around another soldier’s neck, breaking it easily.

To the sound of Kayla’s agonizing screams, Macro watched a sea of soldiers finally overtake Haven, but it wasn’t easy as they filled Haven’s body with enough bolter energy to kill a lesser man even with the weapons on a lower setting. Haven had already locked his jaw in anticipation of the agony. Not a sound left his lips when he collapsed, and in that moment, likely one of the last he would experience before he died, Macro had to admit he had the sexiest, deadliest, and most amazingly loyal lifemate a soldier could ever hope to have.

* * * *

Macro woke on a cold stone floor with a headache throbbing at his temples. At least a dozen bolter shots mixed with a hangover of epic proportions. He had to breathe past the urge to throw up. Somewhere in his consciousness, he heard Haven coughing, as if having the same problem. Dear gods, who knew how many times they’d shot his lifemate.

“Gods, Kayla’s here,” Haven choked out when he found his voice. There was a rattling of metal before he barked, “I’m locked to the floor.”

Macro turned his head, still fighting to get his bearings, and discovered that his arms were bound together behind his back with Tourillan-gold bands. He jerked at them, but the metal was completely fused together and wrapped so tightly around his wrists his fingers were tingling. More so, the cuffs were connected to a chain bolted to the ground, keeping him where he was. He pulled at it, even if the action was in vain. Laysa would have fused all the metal together. Knowing Haven was surely bound like he was, Macro glanced around until he spied Kayla on the floor a few feet away. She wasn’t chained down like they were—confining her with Tourillan gold would be pointless—but she was unconscious. Her long, curly hair flowed around her like a sea of red. There were still wilted flowers in the tresses and her curved body was completely bare, but being female, she wore the nudity well.

He growled when he spied the large, brutal bruises on her hip and back from bolter shots. “They marred her.”

A sickeningly sweet voice cut through the quiet room. “We’re going to do a lot more than that to her if you don’t tell me where that little whore Sari is.” Macro turned toward the sound. Laysa sat in the corner inspecting her nails, as if she had all the time in the world. She lifted her gaze, looking to Macro with disdain. “This could end up being a very difficult morning for you three.”

Macro swallowed hard and tried to glance around the room. It was one he hadn’t seen before, and he’d been born in the Sacred City. He’d trained there since he was young. Though he had traveled to the other palaces on a regular basis, he considered the capital his home, and he thought he knew every nook and cranny of it.

Laysa read his confusion well. “We’re in my apartments. Did you honestly think I didn’t prepare for this day? That I haven’t been strategizing and hoping she’d come back just so I could have the pleasure of personally
ending
this monarchy? Of course, I can’t believe that simpering little fool is actually supposed to be considered a queen, but I suppose it makes my job easier.”

Apartments.

Macro’s mind must still be hazed, because these didn’t look like a sister’s apartments. There were strange things against the wall, wood beams that crisscrossed and had golden cuffs on each of the four points. More cuffs were extended from golden chains bolted to the wall. He craned his neck, seeing more bizarre torture devices. Even with the bright sunlight shining in from all the windows, it looked more like a dungeon than apartments.

“As leader of our people I have larger accommodations than most. This is my playroom.” She gave him a slow, indulgent smile. “Your birth brother knew it well.”

Macro’s stomach lurched. He’d never understood why Garid had agreed to bond with Laysa and serve her for a lifetime anymore than he knew why Falar bonded with Taris. The quest for power had to have limits, but apparently it didn’t.

“He pleaded for you last night.” Laysa met his eyes. “It was sweet.”

“Where is he?” Macro choked, the idea of losing his brother making the nausea rise in his throat. They didn’t always agree, but he didn’t want to see him hurt. “What have you done to him?”

“It occurred to me a long time ago that his and Falar’s placements were extremely convenient when you consider how deeply your family opposed my rule. They were both clearly hungry for more power and had no problem using their good looks and charm to obtain it. I could respect that, but it was rather unusual how quickly your brothers came around after your mother died. We all know she had no loyalty to the sister council.”

Macro let out a grunt of disdain. “Why would she?”

“Yes, I suppose being mother to a consort colored her opinions on the matter. I never understood her interest in a son she wasn’t allowed to raise and couldn’t even speak with until he was of age. But then, I never understood why any of these foolish females pamper their sons when we all know males are created to serve. What’s a few less.” Laysa waved her hand in disinterest. “She was weak. Thank the gods she died. I was tired of her whining.”

“You bitch!” Macro growled.

“Now she has two more sons to join the one that was killed the night our pretty Queen Talsen died, the eldest brother you barely knew. I was there, you know. He never stirred to protect his queen.
A useless consort easily taken by a simple sleeping draught.
Three down, two to go. Too bad Zakit commands the northern forces. Wouldn’t it be charming to wipe your entire clan off the map? I always knew Garid was using me in hopes of one day serving the lost queen. What I find charming is you didn’t have a clue. If only you knew what he endured for the sake of your pointless
cause.
” Laysa stuck out her bottom lip in a fake pout. “And you didn’t even come visit him.
How tragic.”

Macro closed his eyes, hearing the truth in her words and knowing right then that his brothers really were dead. It was only his soldier training that kept him from completely crumpling under the grief and finally giving in to the roiling in his stomach that was worse than ever. The regret was so all-encompassing. Laysa had already beaten him, and he could barely hide the defeat. Knowing Garid and Falar had likely been strategically serving Laysa and Tagris made him dizzy with pain.

Why had Laysa seen what he hadn’t?

It was likely his brothers wanted the tension between them to feel real to better help their cause, but gods, why hadn’t they told him? Acting had never been his strongest suit; those sorts of court niceties weren’t taught to the younger sons like they had been to the older ones.

He was trained to be a soldier instead.

“Don’t worry. They suffered before they died,” Laysa said as if trying to comfort him. “Now you’ll get to watch your sweet Kayla meet the same fate. I’m just
dying
to rip into her.”

“You cannot!” Haven growled, making it obvious he was silently listening to the exchange, reserving his energy. “Only poison is permitted in a sister’s execution. Her body is sacred. Harming it is a crime against the gods.”

Laysa laughed. “Watch me.”

She threatened often, but Macro realized now she was serious. She was going to make Kayla bleed before she died.

“She’s female,” Macro rasped, feeling as appalled as Haven sounded. Even losing brothers couldn’t equate to the absolute horror washing over him at the thought of Kayla’s skin actually being ripped and torn open. “She’s a queen’s sister. She’s blessed.”

“
So am I
,” Laysa reminded both of them with a furious hiss. “I’m the one blessed by the gods. I come from the queen’s line too. Queen Ocatva was my grandmother. Her blood runs in my veins. Just because my royal parent was a useless male doesn’t make me different than that whore. The same consort even fathered both our parents, but she gets the planet. NO! The gods are tired of this line that’s gone on
for a
millennia. Why do you think a queen had a son?
To produce me!”

“She’s delusional,” Haven whispered in revulsion.
“Truly.”

“Look in my eyes!” Laysa screamed. “Do you not see the green of Auroria in them? Only royalty has this color, and you know it. I will make sure you bow to me before you pass over. The queen’s guard should be serving me!”