Chosen: Book 1 in the Ancients of Light series (14 page)

Shortly Kaitriana was pulled from her
enchantment by the thought of her dire need of a bath and she
returned the gown to its former spot before she managed to get it
filthy. Jortha shifted uncomfortably when he heard her abruptly
drop the gown and wondered at her sudden change in behavior. He was
not left much time to reflect on it as Kaitriana merrily crossed
the space that separated them and startled him by dropping an
enthusiastic kiss on his cheek. “Jortha, tis the most amazing dress
I have ever seen much less been allowed to wear. You are my most
favorite person in the Realm today.”

Clapping her hands in her excitement she
glanced back longingly at the gown. Spying the shoes once more, she
asked quietly, “Will your feelings be hurt if I do not wear the
shoes?” There was a good bit of hope in her voice.

Jortha gave her the shake of his head; she
apparently was daft. Why would the Chosen act as though the gift of
a dress were anything but her due? And why would she give a thought
to what his feelings were on the matter? She was the foretold ruler
of the Realm and she would have houses full of these dresses if
that was her wish. Jortha was also certain she possessed every
ability to create them herself.

She watched the young witch’s shifting
expressions; he seemed bothered and his attitude nagged at her.
Kaitriana was dying to get a peek into the bath that adjoined the
chambers, but it would wait. She dropped back to the edge of the
bed and leaned towards him, asking pointedly, “Jortha, is there
something about me specifically that you do not like, or is it that
you too think I am an abomination? I understand that you have been
living with this Vampire Coven over two centuries. Perhaps you
share their beliefs?”

Shuffling his feet as was his habit when
discomfited, he hedged, “Lorcan said you demanded a bath,
everything you need should be in there.” He pointed in the general
direction of the door on the far north wall opposite the bed.

Kaitriana answered with laughter over the
mischaracterization, “I would not say
demanded.
Rather, it was a strong desire that I be
allowed to remove the blood and gore from my person before climbing
into bed.” She frowned and picked at her now horribly rumpled gown,
“Lorcan disagreed, so yes, it is top on my list of things to do
this morn.” Glancing out to the rapidly dimming sky, she corrected,
“…err…eve.”

Ignoring her earlier query, Jortha inclined
his head to her in farewell and turned to take his leave.

Her words stopped him short, “Jortha, I would
prefer to know what it is that I might have done to cause your
upset with me so that I can correct it. It is important also that I
do not make the same mistake with others in Lorcan’s Coven.” Her
voice wavered a bit; she was saddened with the thought that had
crossed her mind. She offered the same thought freely to Jortha
now, “I do not know how long Lorcan will allow me to stay within
his home but I do not wish to bring any trouble to him by my
presence.”

Jortha returned to the seat he had occupied,
his movements so certain that one would think he had use of his
eyes. Settling, he recalled that in his youth there had been
stories of this one and sadness in the Witch faction at her demise.
She supposedly had captured the hearts of many in her short days
with them. It had been said she was kind of nature and pure of
heart; the opposite of her evil rival that now made home with the
Dark. Kaitriana might not be the demanding, spoiled creature that
he had anticipated.

Sighing, Jortha explained with a touch of
agitation, “Your presence already brings Lorcan trouble, Kaitriana.
He was summoned by the Council at twilight to give an accounting of
your existence.” Not waiting for her reaction, he folded his hands
in his lap, “Within his Coven, however, you are free to behave as
you will. Lorcan gave you more than merely his protection. With all
his people as witness last night, he gave you the status that would
be reserved for his mate. None here would dare cross you, even if
the tales of your extraordinary powers were not already spreading
through the Realm.”

Astonished at the revelation of the meaning
behind Lorcan’s words on the steps of the keep, Kaitriana began
worrying her lip and leaned forward to grab Jortha’s hand. Her
words were hushed and solemn, “Will it be better for Lorcan if I
leave here Jortha? I cannot be a source of problem for him.” Her
anxiety was building as Myrrdyn had not yet found her. What if he
had forsaken her for some reason and now she might too need
surrender the protection offered by Lorcan?

Jortha realized that he could be rid of her,
along with all the worries that had plagued him since her
appearance. He feared that he might lose his place as Lorcan’s
coveted and protected Seer. Worse was the concern that Lorcan would
be set upon by both the Dark and the Council if he insisted in
protecting the female. The worst possible outcome was that the girl
could turn as darkly as the other had and bring more death and
destruction to the Light.

The sincerity of her worry pulled at him
however and he could sense no duplicity in her actions at this
moment. His loyalty to Lorcan was also greater than his personal
fears, so his words were resolute, “Lorcan would be more hurt by
your leaving than anything that may result from you being here.
Your reported death caused him much distress all these
centuries.”

Appreciative of his honesty, she squeezed at
his hand before pulling back. “Jortha, will you help me? I do not
know how to make my way in this world of the Vampire. Myrrdyn gave
me his memories of the past so I understand the current
circumstances in the Realm, but even Myrrdyn is not privy to the
workings of covens. I need to make no missteps here; I am already
in defiance of their laws by my very existence.”

Jortha’s response was just the slow shaking
of his head. Kaitriana’s dismayed sigh followed as she thought she
might have made headway with the younger witch. Her obvious
disappointment prompted his admission, “I have not embedded myself
in the Vampire culture, Kaitriana. The only vampire that I
associate with is Lorcan. The remainder keep their distance from me
and I from them…they are nothing to me.”

Her incredulous tone mirrored her shocked
expression, “Jortha, how can you exist here and not have made your
peace with the Vampire, at least those that reside in Lorcan’s
Coven?” Kaitriana launched into full-blown lecture mode, “We Witch
chide the Vampire over their inability to move beyond the past. The
betrayal at Laverock, whether real or feigned, is the sole reason
their elders have for propagating the hatred of our kind. It colors
everything that they set to do in the Realm and we ridicule them
for being unyielding, ignorant beings. How are you different
Jortha?”

Leaning forward she jabbed a finger at his
chest. The impact caused him to press hard against the back of his
chair and Kaitriana continued heatedly, “I know that you were
attacked by the Darks, but evil is not confined to the Vampire
breed nor is it in all of the Vampire. I was nearly killed by
vampires, but I was delivered up for them by a witch. Should I
forsake both factions?”

Kaitriana stood. Her hands were clutching at
her skirts in her agitation as she scrutinized him, near shouting,
“Jortha, shame on you for taking refuge in Lorcan’s home all these
years and shunning his people. Lorcan should have booted your
ungrateful arse into yonder loch centuries ago.”

She had worked herself into a good bit of ire
and stomped across the room to peer out into the night. Noting that
the sky was not filled with lightning, she was somewhat mollified
by the sign that she was gaining control over her magic. Whirling
away from the window, she snatched up the gown. With a huff
Kaitriana kicked the offending shoes under the edge of the
furniture.

As she strode past Jortha, still seated and
motionless in his chair, she delivered a sound smack to the back of
his skull. He was still recovering from his startled flinch when
she tossed at him, “Jortha, I am having that bath now. Let me know
when you decide to grow up.”

Jortha waited until the door slammed behind
her before venturing to take his leave. Though thoroughly
chastised, a grin slowly took his face. He shook his head in
disbelief. This fireball would capture the hearts of many in the
Realm and set them all on their ears in the process. Lorcan’s
regimented life was about to undergo a drastic change. This witch
was little but mighty and he made no reference to her magic with
that assessment. As Jortha exited the chamber and headed down the
steps, still grinning, he heard the melee in the hall that would be
indicative of Lorcan’s return.

CHAPTER 15

When Lorcan had finally calmed himself enough
from his encounter with the Council to climb the stairs to his
chamber, he was much later in joining his little female than he had
intended. Many already filled the great hall for their evening
gathering. The nightly event was informal and had begun centuries
past; most of the Coven convened at the start of the eve to
socialize and to share in a good glass of wine before venturing off
in whatever direction they might be heading.

The gatherings had been less jovial and
merely more a comforting ritual in these past few years, given the
toll the war had been taking on those of the Light. Tonight many
more than usual were in attendance and in abnormally high spirits.
Dressed in their finery, all hoped to catch a glimpse of Kaitriana
and to hear the results of his summoning before the Council.

Only the members of his Elite knew the extent
of his meeting and that the elders had demanded custody of the
witch. His failure to comply would result in his removal from his
seat on the Council and his own Coven would be outcasts in Vampire
society. The potential ramifications were dire, but he would not be
turning the girl over. Lorcan would leave his Coven before allowing
his people to be harmed by his feelings for Kaitriana. His answer
to the Council had been only that he was taking it under
advisement.

He attempted to shake off the anger that
still raged in him at their behavior and particularly that of his
father. Lorcan had argued over the fate of Kaitriana in light of
her transition to the Vampire species. The Council had been
unreasonable in their ignorance that was built on prejudice and
hatred of the Witch species. He had never had a real expectation
that he would sway their opinions and in the end there was little
reason to put forth the effort. The dictate had been handed to him
before any meaningful conversation could be had.

Lorcan opened the door to his chambers slowly
to give the little witchling notice of his arrival; he was not
surprised that Kaitriana had not ventured below. Lorcan did not
think her the type to cower in fear of the unknown but he also
surmised that she was neither reckless nor foolish. She would not
enter into this new culture without him to guide and support her.
Given her display in front of his people last night, she would have
concluded it safer to wait for his return.

Scanning the room in search of her, Lorcan
touched on every corner and amongst the sitting areas scattered
throughout the chamber before his eyes found her. Stretched out in
a luxurious gown on the plush rug in front of the fire, her eyes
were closed and her left arm was cushioning her head. She lay on
that same side facing the blaze. The ice blue of her dress was a
stark contrast to the inky curls that were falling haphazard over
her side and back. . Returning home to find her ensconced in his
chambers as though her rightful place had always been with him,
filled him with a myriad of emotions, none of which were
unpleasant.

Although he could not yet see her eyes, he
was certain the gown matched them perfectly. He identified the
signs of the Warrior Caste in patterns on her skirts. Wondering if
she realized that the deep blues that filled his room and now
designed her attire were of his own crest, he decided to rouse her
from her dozing with that fact, “I like seeing you in my colors,
Kaitriana.”

The deep timbre of his softly spoken words
rolled over her and pleasure coursed through her at his arrival.
Her eyes swept up to his as she stretched slowly on the rug and
then returned to her previous pose, “I like wearing your colors,
Vampire.” Kaitriana’s mouth quirked but her smile stayed hidden,
while Lorcan grinned broadly in response. He liked her sass, as
well as her honesty.

Lorcan moved slowly towards the fire, his
eyes taking a leisure study of her. The form fitting satin clung to
her curves, causing his fangs to lengthen against his lip with a
rush of desire. He lowered himself into one of the massive chairs
flanking the hearth at the edge of the rug, continuing their easy
banter, “Because they are mine or because you like the color,
Witch?” Lorcan held her gaze with a smoldering look. He could play
these games with her all evening. The realization bolstered his
faith in his earlier decision that he would leave the Coven before
giving her up.

Kaitriana twisted around before she gave him
her answer. Moving to kneel up in front of his chair she remained
just out of his reach. Her gaze slowly raked him, and when she
finished, her appreciation for the cut of his dark trousers and the
black shirt that stretched taught across the muscles of his chest
and shoulders was obvious. Kaitriana finally met his silvery eyes,
“Because it pleases you
and
because they
are yours.”

Her eyes flickered with her enchanting smile
when he crooked a finger, “Come here, Kat.” She gave him a look as
though mulling it over which caused him to bid her to him again
with that finger. A mischievous smile formed before she rose to
cross the few short feet between them. Kaitriana remained still as
he took in the splendor of her gown and the image she presented.
Lorcan nodded his approval, desire weighing heavy in his eyes as he
stretched forward to pull her to him. He slipped both arms around
her waist before tugging her down to join him in the chair. Keeping
his focus on her upturned face, he pushed her back so that she was
half-reclining across his lap and cupped her cheek in his palm, “I
have kept you waiting…you must be famished.”