The Shadow Queen (47 page)

“My powers have deteriorated,” Kol said to her, “and if I could release them to another it would be to my sons. They are the ones who should have my powers.”

“But I have worked so hard to complete your dream, my lord father,” Ciarda said. She was, to her surprise, near to tears.

“You are female, daughter, and now that I have my sons whatever I have is theirs,” Kol told her.

Ciarda was suddenly filled with a burning anger. “Your sons are a joke, my lord father,” she shouted at him. “Kolbein is a drunkard and a lecher. All he wants to do is lie about the House of Women drinking Frine and fucking its residents. As for Kolgrim, he finds everything amusing and as far as I can see is useless. I am the only one of your offspring worthy of you, my lord father!”

“She is certainly an ambitious little Darkling, Father,” Kolgrim said. “Mother is having quite a time with her.”

“You know your mother?” Kol was both surprised and amazed.

“The bitch hates us,” Kolbein said irritably.

“He says that because I am her favorite,” Kolgrim taunted his sibling.

“Lara favors you, Kolgrim? Then it is you who shall have my throne!” the Twilight Lord said.

“Never!” Kolbein shouted angrily, “It is mine!
Mine!
”

“I have spoken,” said the Twilight Lord. “I may be blind, chained and imprisoned, my sons, but I know that if Lara favors one of you then it is he who should be my heir. Ciarda, tell Alfrigg that I have said it.”

“Give me what remains of your powers, then, Father,” Ciarda said softly.

Kolgrim stepped next to his father again, whispering in the silent language he had recently discovered he could use.
Say nay, Father. Ciarda means to leave me behind and lie to Alfrigg if you give her any powers.

You want the duplicitous wench?
Kol asked.

I will mount her and mate her as soon as we return to the castle, Father. A son from her body will be evil incarnate. The Dark Lands will need a ruler like that in the future. In the meantime I will rebuild our strength, our forces for that day,
Kolgrim said.

Have her killed by another after she has birthed your son,
Kol advised.
She is ambitious, and she seeks to rule over the worlds once she has brought them into the darkness.

I know,
Kolgrim replied.
I know Ciarda’s heart, Father, and I will keep her under control, I promise you.

My powers are weak to almost nonexistent, my son. But perhaps back in the Dark Lands they will strengthen, or at least help what is in you to grow strong.
Kol took Kolgrim’s hand and pressed his hand against it.
There,
he said.
What was mine is now yours, and you alone will reign as the Twilight Lord.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“N
O
, F
ATHER
! N
O
!”
Ciarda, who had been able to hear part of the conversation, cried.

Kol looked scornfully at her. “Daughter, do you not understand the way of our world? Females do not rule. What was left of my magic permitted me to reach out to someone who would listen. I knew not what had happened to my sons, but I knew you would still be in the House of Women, and I remembered of all my daughters you loved me best, and were the most dutiful. But you think to be what you cannot be, Ciarda. You have brought my sons to me, and I am grateful. It was careless of the Shadow Princes not to encase me within one of their spells. If they learn that you have used the power of three to reach me they will indeed make changes. I will not see you again, I fear. But I know now my kingdom is safe within Kolgrim’s hands, and for that I am grateful to you.”

“Not grateful enough,” Ciarda said bitterly. “Without my magic the Hierarch will fail. I will never be able to bring Hetar into the darkness. Already the Shadow Princes and the faerie woman plot to destroy me. Without my magic they may succeed.”

“You have the magic that you should have, daughter,” Kol told her, and then he chuckled. It was a raspy sound. “So Lara still champions the light. Of course she would.” His gaunt, handsome face grew almost sad.

“We must go,” Kolbein said irritably. “Ciarda! Do what you must.”

“Ah, brother, Ciarda no longer has the power. I do,” Kolgrim said.

“The power of three! Does not Ciarda control it?” Kolbein asked.

Kolgrim laughed. Taking Ciarda’s hand, he said, “Thank you, Father. I will be certain to give Mother your most tender regards. Farewell, brother!” And both he and Ciarda disappeared from the dark cell, leaving his father and brother behind.

For a moment Kolbein did not quite comprehend what had happened, but when he did his face grew bright red with his fury as he realized he had been left behind. “Kolgrim!” he shouted. “Come back for me this instant!”

“He is not returning,” Kol said. “There can only be one Twilight Lord, my son, and your brother is he who was meant to be. And by leaving you behind he has not broken our laws for he has not shed your blood. You have no magic of your own, and what little might have been yours is now your brother’s. Because of the blood that flows through your veins you will live for centuries here with me. Be grateful you do not carry these long chains that I do.”

Kolbein roared his outrage, but the sound bounced off the damp stone walls of the cell to be heard by no one outside of his father and himself. He was trapped even as he had intended trapping Kolgrim. Ciarda would surely help him, wouldn’t she?

Ciarda, however, had other problems. Kolgrim had managed to transport them to a chamber in the House of Women. She recognized it immediately. When the Twilight Lord visited his women it was here he came. The walls were stone. The narrow arched windows looked out over the mountains and the gorge below. Furnished with a large bed set upon a dais, it was a room that had but one purpose.

Seeing where she was, Ciarda pulled away from Kolgrim and dashed for the door, but the key in the lock turned, and flew across the chamber into Kolgrim’s hand. He caught it, and pocketed it with a nasty smirk. He was already bootless. Then, striding over to the Darkling, he pulled her to him by her long black hair.

“Let me go,” Ciarda said in a suddenly shaking voice.

“You are so deliciously evil,” he purred at her, caressing her face with his knuckles. “I knew right away you would have to be the one to conceive and bear my son for me, Ciarda.” His fingers fastened into the round neck of her gown, ripping it away. His hand reached out to cup one of her high, pointed breasts and squeeze it. Bending his dark head, he bit down on her nipple, causing her to scream. Lifting his head up, he said in a hard voice, “Undress me, Ciarda. It is time we became better acquainted.”

“I will not....” she began angrily.

Kolgrim backhanded her ferociously. “Do you not understand, Ciarda?” he said in a cold but calm voice. “I am the Twilight Lord. You are a female. You do not question.
You obey.
I have chosen you to bear my heir. Your wickedness matches mine, and the son you will eventually give me will be great. Today I will seed you thoroughly, but until I wish it that seed will not bloom. But because you will mother my only son I will permit you to sit on a stool at my feet in the throne room so all who come to me may know I hold you in great favor. Now obey my command, Ciarda. My need to fuck you grows greater with each passing moment.”

Shocked by what was happening, Ciarda nonetheless hurried to follow his order. Her cheeks were stinging from the blow he had delivered to her. The nipple he had bitten ached. The few powers their father had given him seemed to have grown suddenly. Her fingers fumbled as she undid the laces at the neck of his shirt and slipped it off him. His skin was pale, but tawny gold hair covered his chest. Unable to help herself, Ciarda ran her palms over his muscled torso then bent to lick his nipples with a quick tongue. Kolgrim spoke only one word. “Kneel.”

Ciarda knelt down, undoing the belt about his waist. She unbuttoned his breeches and pulled them down so he might step from them, which he did, kicking them away from him. He wore nothing beneath, and his rod lay supine amid a nest of tightly curled golden fur. She felt his fingers digging into her scalp, and knew what he wanted. Ciarda rubbed her cheek against his rod. Then she began to fondle it and to Ciarda’s surprise her fingertips brushed over a swelling pocket on the back of his rod. “What is this?” she asked him. “Kolbein did not have this deformity on his rod.”

Kolgrim laughed softly. “Then I am indeed the true Twilight Lord,” he said to her. “All Twilight Lords possess double rods, Ciarda. That which most men possess is called the dominant. It is not a deformity, it is a wonderment, and you shall be doubly pleasured. Suck me, and see what happens.”

His scent was in her nostrils, and Ciarda found it exciting. She reached beneath him to cup his seed sac. She fondled it, her excitement growing. Taking the tip of his rod in her fingers, she slowly licked it up and then down several times. Then she took him into her mouth, and began to draw upon him. Gently at first, but then with harder tugs of her mouth on him until he began to swell. He grew so quickly that his size stretched her lips and almost choked her with his length, which pushed against the back of her throat.

Kolgrim closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of her lips and tongue on him. He had always been embarrassed by possessing two rods until he learned studying with old Alfrigg that it was a natural attribute of a Twilight Lord. And Kolbein had not possessed it. When he discovered that, Kolgrim knew it was he who must triumph and take the throne of the Dark Lands. The twin rods made him his father’s true heir. He moaned as Ciarda’s mouth brought him almost to fulfillment. “Cease!” he commanded her. He felt the lesser rod ready to come forth. “Sit back, and see what pleasure awaits you,” he said.

Resting upon her haunches, Ciarda stared at Kolgrim’s long thick rod. And then her eyes widened as his lesser rod began to slide forth from beneath the dominant. It was far longer, but equally hard, and thin. Its tip was shaped like an arrowhead. “How do you use them both?” she queried him, staring, fascinated, at the two rods.

“You will be required to be placed in a special position to receive both, Ciarda. Are you woman enough to give yourself to me freely?” Kolgrim asked her.

“Will you seed me now?” she asked him. “What if later on you find a woman you prefer to me to bear your son?”

“I am certain over the years to come I will find many women I prefer to you, Darkling, but you are the perfect woman to bear the Twilight Lord’s only son. And in answer to your question, aye, I will seed you now, for I do not trust you. Know that without me by your side you will not leave the Dark Lands again. Now get on your back upon the bed, Ciarda, so you may be made ready for me. And from this moment on you will address me as your lord and master.” He pulled her torn garment off her.

“Yes, my lord and master,” she said to him, and, going to the large bed, she lay directly in its center. She hated him, his arrogance and yet…

Almost at once four chains holding round manacles dropped from the ceiling. They were silver, the manacles lined in silk and lamb’s wool. Kolgrim fastened two of the manacles to her wrists above her head. The other two he attached to her ankles, which were pulled wide and drawn back toward her shoulders.

Ciarda was fascinated. She had not known about double rods or restraints, but she frankly found her situation very stimulating. Kolbein had been a rough and crude lover seeking only his own satisfaction. He had been easily manipulated. Kolgrim, however, was not to be led, she now saw. But she realized that he excited her. “How long have you wanted to mate with me?” she asked him softly.

“From the moment I saw you,” he admitted to her. “Whether that comes from a genuine lust for you, my wicked Darkling, or because the mating season is upon me I cannot tell you. That was why my brother was so randy these past few weeks.” He slipped onto the bed next to her. In his hand appeared a small sable-haired brush dripping some silken substance. Leaning toward her, he spread her nether lips with his thumb and forefinger to stroke the brush back and forth over her love bud.

The sensation Ciarda felt was at first cool and the brush tickled. But then suddenly an explosion of hot lust hit her so hard she could barely draw a breath. “What have you done to me?” she gasped.

“Does it burn?” he asked her in nonchalant tones.

“Yes! Make it stop, Kolgrim! Make it stop!” The unfulfilled lust consuming her was almost painful.

“Make it stop,
my lord and master,
” he reminded her gently.

“Yes! Yes! Make it stop, my lord and master! Please!”

Leaning over more, he slid his forked tongue from between his lips and began licking her sex. The action but served to rouse her further, and she struggled against her bonds. Kolgrim laughed softly. “You must answer my questions honestly, Ciarda. Will you bear my son with a dark and willing heart?”

She nodded then said, “Aye, I will!” As angry as she was at having been outwitted by him, to bear the next Twilight Lord was an honor to which she had always aspired. What matter that the father she chose was not the man who now prepared to impregnate her with his seed? It didn’t matter.

“And will you accept your female inferiority, my naughty Darkling?”

“Aye!” she answered quickly, not daring to hesitate lest he refuse to use her body.

Kolgrim laughed. “You lie, Darkling, but I can control you, and so I will forgive you. I will always know when you lie to me.”

“I am not like the others,” Ciarda protested to him. “I have intelligence, and I will pass it on to our son, my lord and master.”

He laughed again then he grew serious. “Creation is painful, Darkling. Are you prepared now to be seeded?” Two fingers pushed into her sheath, frigging her wickedly.

“I am no virgin to whimper and whine at a strong manhood,” she told him.

She knew nothing really of what was to come, Kolgrim thought, amused. But he had learned much over the last weeks from the old chancellor who tutored him. His hair might be golden like his mother’s, but he was Kol’s son in every other way. He looked at the girl spread and waiting for him. He gazed at his twin rods, hard and eager. And then without another word he began to press his lesser rod into her rear channel.

Ciarda squealed, surprised, as the pointed tip of the lesser rod began to penetrate her sharply. But the brief pain faded and she felt the slender rod push itself deep into her. When he had filled her she felt the power of it throbbing. Her eyes widened, and it was then Kolgrim drove his dominant rod into her sheath. As he did Ciarda felt little tiny sharp nodules rising up to tear at her tender interior. “What are they?” she cried out to him. “You are giving me pain, my lord and master!”

“The nodules only appear when a son is to be seeded, Ciarda,” he told her. Then he began to thrust the two rods in perfect unison. “They will heighten our pleasure.”

Oddly he was right, Ciarda realized. The pain of the little nodules drove her excitement to a height she had never before experienced. She screamed with her pleasure, and begged him to release her from her restraints. When he did with a silent command that opened the manacles so that they dropped away from her limbs, Ciarda wrapped her legs about his torso to take him even deeper. Her fingernails clawed his back in a frenzy of lust, drawing blood.

Now he began to thrust rhythmically with both of his rods. He drove harder and deeper into her until Ciarda was screaming with both pain and delight. Kolgrim roared with his own satisfaction as he felt her sheath tightening and releasing about his dominant rod. He felt his juices boiling up. When they exploded furiously into her he shouted with a sound of triumph as she shrieked with her release, and ferocious pleasures overwhelmed them both in a tidal wave of pure hot lust.

“By Krell, Darkling, I have seeded you well this night,” Kolgrim declared. “And when I decide it my seed will bloom within you, and you will bring forth my son.” Withdrawing both of his rods from her body, he told her, “You may sleep now, Ciarda. You have earned your rest. Tomorrow I will send for you to come to the castle, where you will confirm to Alfrigg what my father said to me.” He arose from the bed, and with a wave of his hand reclothed himself. Then he left her.

Ciarda lay, exhausted. She had thought Cam a lover without peer, but now she realized that no mortal could equal Kolgrim. And now that she held the key to the future of the Dark Lands within her body, the new Twilight Lord was in her power, although he knew it not. She was not an inferior female, and one day she would rule. Ciarda fell asleep with a smile upon her lips even as, crossing the bridge over the gorge, Kolgrim returned to the castle.

“Fetch the chancellor to me,” he told the first servant he saw. “Send him to my throne room.”