The Sentinel Keeper (Forest Series) (6 page)

He leaned forward, his green eyes boring into her.

He had not said a word. Then the one he spoke sent a shiver down her spine.

“You’re a Dreamwalker.”

Beth jolted, her heart pounding. That word meant something. She could feel it deep in her veins, like a distant drumbeat that had started up.

“You heard what he said in my dreams?”

Melchior’s stare was cold.

“I heard.”

Her face was flushed and she could feel her blood racing.

“What does it mean?” she asked.

Melchior’s eyes narrowed.

“You don’t know” he frowned.

Beth shook her head.

With a curse Melchior turned, putting distance between them. He walked to the window.

“You really don’t know what you are?”

“Tell me,” she demanded. “Tell me what that means. What am I?”

Melchior turned back to her and she had to catch her breath as the she saw the light catch his face. He was incredible. Standing in just a pair of linen pants he was tall beyond measure and exuding a raw power that was daunting. She wanted to touch him, run her fingers down his chest and place her head by his heart. But it was his eyes that she had seen before in her dreams. Not for many years and the memories were so far away she could not quite grasp in.

He took a step forward towards her and his eyes narrowed. Then he spoke again.

“I will tell you what you are,” he said in a slow measured voice, “once you tell me who Jackson is, and why you were spying in our forest.”

Jackson? Beth almost laughed. But the cold wave coming off him stopped her. She knew a bargaining chip when she saw one. He was deadly serious. Hell, if she didn’t know better she would think he was jealous.

Before she could answer there was a knock at the door.

“Mel, need you here.” a deep male voice. “We have a visitor. In the Cathedral.”

Beth heard Melchior curse and turn away.

“I need to go now,” he said. “I won’t be long. This is my room and I want you to stay here.” Beth bristled at the command of the man who was clearly used to having his orders obeyed. 

The next second a blinding flash on light filled the room, and Melchior was gone. One second he was there, standing in front of her, and the next there was nothing but air.

Beth sat down on the bed with a thud.

Total nutcase, she thought. Jackson has seen it coming. Delusional, paranoid and totally balmy.

Strange then that the last few hours had felt more real than the last 26 years of her empty life had.

Three of his warriors sat before him in the massive underground cathedral waiting for him as if they were facing an execution. His.

Blane, Aslan and Shara sat on one side of the long dais, watching him with eyes downcast. On the far side of the sat the Priest.

Oh hell, what was he doing here?

Clearly he was being ambushed by the sycophantic suck-job of the Priest.

Defiant as always, Melchior let the shirt he was about to pull over his naked torso drop to the floor as he stalked across the floor and took his seat at the head of the table in just his pants. He felt the Priest recoil with revulsion, but he caught a glimpse of Aslan suppressing a grin. All three of them were wearing their crimson ceremonial robes, looking solemn with their eyes cast down at the table. He was half naked.

His eyes flicked over to his crew. They were watching him. He knew that each one of them may have been born from immortals, but on this plane and in his army they were armed and lethal. Every single one of them would kill for him. But in his communion with the Gods, Melchior knew he stood alone. He alone had been tasked by the Gods to eke out his punishment alone for an eternity. None of them could take his place there.

His crime had been a stupid one. Fuelled with the exuberance of youth he had wooed and bedded Alabaster the daughter of the God of Wind. He had fallen hard for the delicate blonde beauty and made it his life’s mission to get her naked. But the plan had backfired. She had fallen so deeply in love with him that she had told her father of her love, and her desire to wed the warrior. Enraged and shamed, her father had petitioned to the Gods and had Melchior thrown into a cell. Fuelled by desperate grief, the love struck Alabaster had done the unthinkable – she had cast herself into the pit of Fire and died and immortal death. The shock of her death had rocked the very foundations of the realm. Any hope of pardon was gone and Melchior faced certain death. His grief and guilt over her death was so deep that his own death had felt like a fitting punishment. He hadn’t loved the girl, it had just been a reckless game to him, but the result had been eternal and irreversible.

But the Gods had not deemed death not to be his fate. Instead they had scored his face with the mark of shame and had made him Warrior King to guard the Sentinel alone, never to have another mate to share his life. IF he did the fire that had taken Alabaster’s life would claim the woman he had taken twice. So he had slaked his lust on hundreds of nameless females, all one-hit wonders. Night after night a different one until he could bear it no more. No more empty releases. He had not touched a female for many decades now. Until her.

Never before had the bitterness of his punishment burned him so, but tonight for the first time in aeons his heart ached. The woman up in his room was different. Beth. The thought of her stirred uneasy feelings in him. He was damned if he would let them see that. He shut his thoughts down. In this place they could see everything.

“My Lord”

The Priest stood up as his voice carried across the great space. It carried up into the dark endless roof that lifted straight from earth and into the heavens directly. If Melchior had a choice he would have blasted it into a pile of rubble.

“My Lord there is talk up above that you have a woman in your midst.”

Melchior’s blood stopped, if only for a second before he will an expression of distain back on this face.

“There is talk that she is a Dreamwalker.”

The word fell like a bomb in the cathedral. Melchior knew he could show no reaction if he was even to stand a chance with him.   He nodded, his eyes blank as he stared at the Priest.

“We would like to speak with her,” the red eyes sparked at him. 

Melchior gritted his teeth. He was Lord over his dominion, but the Priest came from the Gods. He was his direct line and to risk their wrath was more than he dared. A muscle in his jaw was pulsing as he fought for control. He jerked his body into a low bow. It almost made him sick.

“She is in my quarters.”

He turned to Blane.

“Bring her here.”

Blane nodded and flashed out of the cathedral in a low rumble. Seconds later he was back, this time beside Melchior.

His eyes were low as he moved closer and cleared his throat. His voice was low.

“Your chamber is empty my lord. She is not there, nor is she in the settlement. It seems she has left.”

Perhaps Blane was lying for him, giving him a reprieve, a chance to think up a reason to send the Priest away. But Blane could not meet his eye and he knew he spoke the truth.

The Priest sucked in his cheeks, then his calm demeanor changed. He rose to his feet, rising to his full seven feet of height. His robe billowed out behind him as his voice rose to a shriek as he turned on Melchior.

“Gone. How could you allow this Warrior King? How do you know she is not loyal to the Dark Lord? What damnation has she brought upon you? Upon all of us?”

Melchior knew the accusation was true. He had made a lethal mistake. He had been so distracted by his own base animal desires that he had failed to think things through.

Beth was a Dreamwalker and Dreamwalkers were rare creatures. The females could enter anyone’s dreams and command their actions. But they had a fatal weakness. The Dark Lord Niyan too possessed this rare gift and for centuries he had used Dreamwalkers to find the Priests and lead him to them. Then he had killed both the Priest and the Dreamwalker. There had been none know to be alive for almost fifty years now.

“What have you done?” the Priest’s scream filled the room. That was what Melchior hated about the Gods, all drama and no action. It was up to him to sort things out.

“Get a grip,” he said, then cocked his upper body into the parody of a bow. He could see Priest’s eyes bug out. “I will find her and bring her to you,” he said.

Melchior looked around at the hard faces of his men. He chose the fastest.

“Find her Blane,” he said. “Before the Dark Lord does.”

But even as Blane left the room in a flash, Melchior let his powers loose to roam across the forest. Every tree and leaf was his to command and he could feel her. She was not far and she was running.

Beth had run from him the second he had found out what she was. Her actions condemned her in front of his army, and the Priest. But he had seen her very real confusion and a deeply buried part of him had felt her innocence. She was going to bring the Dark Lord here, but Melchior truly believed she did not know that.

Melchior knew that the Priest and the Gods were watching him. They all knew the punishment for her crime. He had dealt it to warriors a hundred times. He swallowed hard.  He willed his body to stand still as he waited. He would not be the one to bring her back, even if he could feel exactly where she was. He would not move.

It felt like an eternity before he heard Blane’s heavy footsteps at the door. He heard Beth’s gasp of shock as she saw the gaping cavern filled with lights but he didn’t’ even turn to her. He knew what he had to do.

“Take her up to the tower,” he said. “I will deal with her myself.”

Beth couldn’t speak. She could barely breathe as a tall devastating warrior called Blane heaved her over his shoulder and carried her up the circular stairs into the tower as if she was little more than air. She could hear another set of footsteps, heavier and slow. She knew who those belonged to without having to look.

Blane threw open a door and she caught a glimpse of an empty stone room. The room was dark but Beth could see a series of metal rings bolted into the wall. Some hung from the ceiling and there were a few more in the floor. In the corner was a rack hanging from the wall with a series of whips laid out on it.

A thousand outraged comments were on her lips as she stared, open-mouthed at the archaic room. This room was for punishment. Instead of windows it had just slats in the stone, letting the icy winter air flood the space. Jesus, this had got to be some sort of crazy joke. But Beth knew, with a hard thudding beat of her heart, that this was actually happening. The breath caught in her throat.

“Leave now.”

Melchior’s voice sounded behind her, shocking her out of her paralysis. “I will do the rest.”

She felt the floor beneath her feet as Blane set her down on the floor. She felt his hand steady her for a second but she was determined not to grab onto it. It took all her strength to find her balance and stand. The she heard him move away and the door close behind him. She readied herself to swing around and confront Melchior.

“I will forgive you if you kneel before me now.” Melchior’s voice was in her ear.

Beth didn’t move. She wanted to snort with laughter. Was he actually joking? Forgive her?

“Did you hear me?” his voice was a low menacing growl. “I am Lord here. Kneel before me and ask for forgiveness. Otherwise I will be forced to punish you.”

Beth didn’t move, she couldn’t. A paralyzing, humiliated rage flooded her body. Who the holy hell did he think he was?

He had assaulted her in the forest, stolen her phone and then kidnapped from her hotel room. Then he had vanished right in front of her. She was pretty sure he wasn’t actually human entirely. What had he expected? Hadn’t it been her prerogative to try and escape?