Allegiance Sworn (4 page)

Chapter 5

T
HE
demon stopped short of the bed, swaying backward as if she’d hit some unseen barrier. Arek expected an arrogant retort, a blaze of anger, even some sort of physical abuse in response, not hesitation or the calm yet curious narrowing of her gaze as she considered him.

“How would you achieve that given your present predicament?” she asked.

Her voice, a low, sultry rasp, brushed across all his senses like a caress, sent his blood surging through his veins. His skin prickled with heat, the swift rush of desire catching him off guard.

Merciful Mother
, how could he feel such a thing when he knew what she was? He twisted his wrists against the manacles, fought to control his body, hoping the fresh pain would dull the unwanted reaction.

“I didn’t realize the
Lady’s
warriors had the power to kill with a thought.” The upward twitch of her mouth served only to stroke his anger.

“Had I such a gift, you would now lie dead on the floor,” he growled. “If you think my threat idle enough to mock me, move closer, and let’s see how well you trust these chains.”

Arek called on his power, felt the answering spark deep inside him, and hoped she’d dare. He didn’t need a blade to focus his Gift. One careless touch, just the brush of her hand against any bare skin, and he could push it through his flesh into hers. It’d hurt, and would feel like he’d touched fire-seared metal drawn from a furnace, but he would kill her.

She altered her stance, a subtle shifting of weight onto the balls of her feet as if she were preparing for his attack, a move he’d seen a thousand times on the training grounds in the Light Blade compound. Again he wondered why a
Na’Reishi
female would need to know how to defend herself.

“I’m sorry, Light Blade.” Her soft apology was accompanied by a grimace. “My attempt at humor was inappropriate.”

Her regret seemed almost sincere.

“I find nothing amusing about this situation.”

“No, there certainly isn’t.” Her chin lifted. “Let’s begin again. My name is Imhara Kaal. I’m the
Na
of this Clan.”

He snorted. “I don’t give a copper chit what your name is, demon. It doesn’t change the fact I’m chained to your bed and held here against my will.”

“
Na
or
Na’Reishi
, not demon.”

“What?”

“There’s so much I have to tell you, but this is important.” Resolve deepened the huskiness of her voice. “If you are to survive in my world, you must show respect. To me. To those of my Clan. To all
Na’Reish
, even if it goes against every fiber of your being.”

“If you think I’ll submit to any demon, then you’re a fool.” Arek jerked against his bonds. Metal clashed against wood, bit into his wrists. “I’m not your slave!”

One dark eyebrow lifted slowly. “Your current circumstances imply otherwise.” Arek’s breath hissed from between his teeth. He curled his hands into fists. Her expression softened. “On your side of the border, you were a free man. A Light Blade warrior, no doubt highly respected by your fellow warriors and society alike. Your people value equality and personal choice.

“I understand all that, but in
Na’Reish
territory you will be seen as nothing more than a slave. We live in a caste-based system. Power assigns rank. Rank defines privilege. Privilege determines choice. Here humans reside at the very bottom. You have no privilege, or rank, or power. And that eliminates choice. Your people are vessels to serve ours. Whenever, however, and in whatever fashion suits our pleasure.”

Every word out of her mouth twisted his insides tighter and tighter. His blood heated and another growl erupted from his throat. This was why he’d answered the call to be a Light Blade. No one deserved to be used or degraded like that.

Once captured, how had his mother ever endured being a slave?

Only a child of three when she’d been taken, his memories of her were few. They were more sensations or emotions rather than images, but he’d been told plenty of stories growing up, and as a warrior he’d seen evidence of how the
Na’Reish
treated their slaves.

Annika, the
Na’Chi
half sister he never knew existed until recently, was living proof of what his mother had suffered.

Rape.

Forced to conceive and bear a child of mixed blood.

Abuse of the worst kind, but then
Na’Reish
demons were renowned for such atrocities, particularly Savyr, their leader, the demon who’d taken her to his bed.

Arek ground his teeth together, sweat prickling at his temples. How many times had she been forced to submit in the months Savyr had imprisoned her? How many times had she wished for death rather than tolerate his touch? At the moment of Annika’s birth and his mother’s death, had she rejoiced in thwarting his plan for revenge?

Mother and child, both used as pawns, a means to an end. Arek’s soul pulsed with too familiar grief while his mind rebelled at a bitter truth.

He now faced a similar fate.

His heart beat hard and his blood ran hot, demanding he give voice to his fury. The ache in his jaw grew the longer he clenched it, but he’d put up with a hundred times the pain before giving in to his temper. There was no way Imhara Kaal would get the satisfaction of seeing him lose control.

“
Na
or
Na’Reishi
—either term is the correct way to address me. I’ll teach you how to identify other ranks later.” The solemnity of her vow vibrated in her voice. “To call us
demon
will be seen as disrespect. You’ll risk punishment or death depending on whom you offend. And the sooner you learn this, the faster you’ll settle into your new life, the safer you will be.”

Her amethyst gaze bore into his with an intensity that prickled his skin. Did she think dying frightened him? Every ride along the border, every patrol completed, every skirmish engaged in with the
Na’Reish
, he’d prepared himself for the Final Journey. As for a new life, he intended to escape at the first opportunity or die trying.

“I tell you this not to provoke you”—she took a step closer to the bed, halting barely an arm’s length from him—“but because you’re going to need to accept that outside this fortress, you’ll have no power or protection other than what my name and reputation can provide.”

“You say that as if you believe I’ll come around to your logic.” Arek made little effort to conceal his disgust and contempt. “No words, no vows, no punishment you threaten me with will ever sway me.”

He flexed his fingers. Her gaze flickered to them. Satisfaction curled in his gut as wariness creased the corners of her eyes. If he ever managed to get free of the shackles, he’d wrap his hands around her slender neck and rid the world of one more demon.

Yet her behavior puzzled him. Where was the cruelty he’d been anticipating? He’d experienced the boat-master’s discipline for the smallest of infractions. If disrespecting her was such a crime, then why hadn’t she punished him?

“Not all
Na’Reish
advocate the caste system, Light Blade. You will see this in time.” What almost looked like sincerity flickered across her face. “Here in the Kaal fortress we honor the Old Ways. The caste system doesn’t exist. We live differently than the other Clans.”

No caste system? No slaves? Just how gullible did she think he was? Her act to convince him was pitiful. He’d be a fool to read anything into what she said or did.

Arek’s lip curled. “From where I’m lying, I see cursed-all difference, demon.”

Her brow dipped low. “You stew in your anger like a stubborn child when you should be listening. Thinking.”

A flash of temper, so unexpected, and the first he’d witnessed. She closed her eyes a moment, and when she opened them, the anger was gone, replaced by calmness. Her whole body relaxed. All in less than three heartbeats.

Her control impressed him. Intrigued him. Two emotions he shouldn’t be feeling.

Never trust a demon. Lies and deceit dwell in their souls
.
It’s their nature.
As a child, how many times had his grandfather reminded him of this? Davyn had never forgiven Savyr for the death of his daughter.

Nothing Arek had seen in his time as a Light Blade warrior contradicted that supposition. This
Na’Reishi
female represented everything he hated. So what if she hadn’t reacted as he’d expected? He needed to focus on escape, not try to make sense of her motives or actions.

“Surely you’ve been in situations where not everything was as you assumed it to be?” she asked.

She dropped into a crouch, then knelt beside the bed. It brought her down to eye level with him, giving the moment a level of intimacy that made his skin crawl.

“Isn’t it strange that I know you’re a Light Blade warrior yet you live?” She cocked her head to one side, the wry hint of a smile curving her dark lips. “Don’t you want to know why?”

Mother of Light
, yes, he wanted to know, but as much as he desired that knowledge, answering would give her an advantage over him. He kept his mouth shut. What game was she playing at? Did it amuse her to taunt him like this?

* * *

IMHARA
issued a soft sigh when the human’s mouth flattened into a grim line. This close, his gaze was such a rich, captivating blue, like the sky on a winter’s evening, but his eyes burned with hatred and speared her with furious intent.

If he felt intimidated by his situation, chained to a bed, his thoughts filled with the knowledge that he was helpless and subject to her whims, he gave no indication of it. She applauded his silent courage. He was going to need it in the coming days. She doubted he was the sort of human who’d reveal any sort of weakness voluntarily.

What experiences had honed such strength in him?

Her gaze traced the angry lines of his face. Beneath the dirt and grime of travel, his visage was striking—a broad forehead, thick blond brows, sharp cheekbones, and a stubble-shadowed jaw.

Not classically handsome by any means. His sun-darkened features possessed a hard, dangerous edge, but the fierceness was a familiar trait, one she recognized and respected.

In a man—
Na’Reish
,
Na’Chi
, or human male—she found those qualities appealing. Attractive. And now was no different. Yet she doubted he’d appreciate her sharing that thought with him.

Imhara issued another soft sigh. For the moment it was probably safer to focus on the task of revealing her plans.

“If our situations were reversed, I’d want to know why you hadn’t killed me,” she murmured. Her nostrils filled with the heavy, bitter odor of hatred, yet beneath it she detected the faintest trace of cloves.

Curiosity.

The first sign of emotion other than his desire to kill her. Thank the
Lady
. All she had to do now was fan that interest and keep it alive; establish a connection.

She wet her lips. “I know you’re not likely to believe me, but I don’t consider you my enemy.”

“You are mine!” The words were snarled from between gritted teeth. Chains rattled as he strained against his bonds, renewing his bid for freedom.

Any other time Imhara might have admired the powerful strength in his body as his muscles flexed and twisted, but the unmistakable scent of fresh blood filled her nostrils. She glanced at his wrists. Crimson stained his skin and the edge of the shackles, some even smeared the white linen pillows.

She grimaced even as her heart beat faster. Rassan’s quick thinking had saved this warrior’s life. The Light Blade possessed everything she needed to see her plan to fruition—strength, tenacity, willpower, and skill—if she could convince him her intentions were genuine. But getting him to take a first step seemed impossible.

The warrior ceased struggling, the flush of anger still coloring his tanned cheeks, his breath rasping in and out of his lungs like a winded
Vorc
. Her heart ached at the futility and frustration he must be experiencing.

“I’m sorry, Light Blade. I regret that it was necessary for you to be restrained and treated like a prisoner.”

“Really?” he countered, voice rough as his gaze glittered. “Then unchain me.”

Rassan’s warning echoed in the back of her mind.

“I can’t.”

“Why doesn’t that come as a surprise?” A muscle leapt in his cheek. She curled her fingers into a fist, resisting the urge to reach forward and soothe the lines of tension pulling at the corners of his mouth. He’d likely bite her if she tried. “You tell me one thing, demon, but your actions betray the truth.”

The validity of his accusation grated. How could she expect even the smallest sliver of trust from him if she refused to offer it first?

“We both know you’d try to kill me, and I don’t want to have to hurt you to stop you.”

“Hurt me? I don’t think so.” His mouth twisted into a fierce, feral grin. “I won’t just
try
to kill you. I will.”

His deep voice was so thick with menace it resonated off him in waves, the sharp odor of bitter hatred overpowering.
Merciful Mother
, his animosity for her race she could understand, but what would it take for him to see past his anger and listen to her?