Destroyed by Onyx (A Dance with Destiny Book 4) (46 page)

“Why?” Drostan hissed, jumping down from the table and facing her proper. “Why could you not just give in to Gráda’s advances? That man has the talent to easily bed any woman he so desires. And I know he wants you. Hell, the whole kingdom knows the truth in that. Why could you not lay with him, just once? Why? Why couldn’t you simply betray your husband?”

“Wha-what are you—”

“You play with him, hold hands with him, laugh at all his jests. He has escorted you to the market hundreds of times. Carried your packages, taken you hunting, and showered you with ungodly amounts of adoration through the years. Gráda pines for your attention and you grant him all that he desires… save a kiss. Why?”

“Why? Gráda is my beloved brother. I would nev—”

“If you had but kissed that honored man, simply kissed him, it would have been enough to break Finnean’s heart… cause him to turn from you.” He took a step closer to her. “I have waited for years. Watching from the shadows, I followed you always. I listened as good Gráda whispered sweet temptations in your ear, words that countless women would’ve come to blows over. Yet you only giggle and turn away. Why? Why couldn’t you just say… yes?”

She stared at him, shocked and very nearly speechless. “I could
never
do thus, never. I will die before I betray my beloved.”

“Very well, then.” He took the last step separating them, their noses were nearly touching. “If you will not betray him by choice, perhaps
his
taste for
you
will turn sour. Perhaps your beloved Finnean will find you too disgusting to love… once he hears that another man has entered you.”

She furrowed her brow, his dark words not fully registering before he seized her wrists. Jenevier screamed from shock as much as fear when Drostan leaned against her, pushing her back, pinning her down atop the table.

The next few heartbeats played out with blinding speed, but the black scene had forever been seared upon her destroyed heart.

Brodder was the first one through the open door, not Eògan. He grabbed the maddened man, tearing him off his precious daughter, slinging him across the kitchen. When Drostan slammed against the counter, the King scooped a trembling Jenevier up in his massive arms.

She could remember hearing her cries turning to screams as she watched the enraged warrior lunge toward Brodder’s back, butcher knife raised in the air. It was as if the whole thing played out in slow motion, a million miles away. She remembered her screams… then the sickening sound of metal boring through flesh, scraping against bone.

At first, Jenevier thought her loving father had been stabbed. She flung her arms around him, searching desperately, but could feel no protruding knife. Tearing herself from his frozen arms, she fell to the floor and landed right beside her beloved Finnean.

He was staring at the ceiling, silent and still. Refusing to believe her eyes, Jenevier called out his name through her tears. He didn’t answer. A couple more heartbeats pounded loudly in her ears before he coughed. Blood bubbled up through his parted lips, slowly marking a dark path down his perfect face—thick crimson drops falling heavily upon snowy locks. Then she saw the red stain growing across his tunic, spreading out from the black handle now sticking out of his lovely chest.

Faintly, just barely, she could hear the frantic commotion around them. Drostan was yelling…
No. No, not him
… over and over. Men were shouting. Women were screaming. Someone tugged at her arm. But Jenevier and her fair Finnean were the calm eye in the center of that storm. He never looked at her. Their eyes never met. His vacant gaze stayed fixed upon the ceiling… until she lightly touched his lids, closing the most beautiful ice blue eyes she would never see again.

Laying her head upon his chest, she curled up beside the stilled form of her beloved. And there they remained, until the sun no longer shone through the dusty windows and Brodder finally came and lifted her into his arms.

“But… Papa… He’s so cold… He needs me. Please, don’t take me away from my Finnean, Papa. He cannot live without my warmth… and I cannot live without his…”

*****

Jenevier’s tears didn’t stop when her Dragon’s words sent the wretched memory skittering back into the recesses of her mind.

Enough, Naga. You have tread this dark path long enough. Brace yourself, tiny Angel. We’re going on a trip.

But she didn’t. She didn’t even move as Nilakanta’s giant wings spread forth and he took to the skies.

I said hold on, Kagi Naga.

“Just let me fall, Dragon. Please… just let me fall.”

Why? So I would have to hunt for you? Dig you out of whatever crater your tiny body made on impact? No, Naga. No matter how great your pain, I will never let you fall.

Because… I have to learn to live through the pain
, she thought.

She remained curled up on his back, but she did reach out and wrap her arms around his neck.

“You love me too much, you old lizard.”

Jenevier couldn’t see his face, but her giant sapphire Dragon was smiling… plain as day.

Chapter 43

Byzantha

(bye-ZAN-tha)

“Must you always antagonize people so?”

Still laughing, Syadar turned toward the soft voice of his dainty condemner.

His breath hitched and tears immediately filled his eyes, burning, painfully so. “Ajená…”

Jenevier ran to him, leaping into his arms, relief pouring down her face, tears enough to match his own.

“Swear to me you will not leave me this time, little flower. Promise me now you have finally come home.”

“Oh, beautiful kitty, that is one vow I truly wish I could make. I wish it more than there are stars in the heavens.”

He squeezed her so tight it hurt. But no matter the pain, there’s nowhere else she would rather be right now.

Her words were muffled against his neck. “I thought he would never leave.” She sniffed. “I wanted you all to myself. I wanted the moment we finally saw each other again to be just between us.”

He sat her down, hands still gripping her shoulders. He looked deep into her eyes. “What? How long have you been here, Ajená?”

“You were yet my chocolate kitty when first I arrived.”

“B-but how is that possible, little flower? I can always sense you. I smell your enticing scent when you first burst through the clouds. How is it you were able to hide from me?”

“I know not.” She looked back toward her Dragon. “I just stayed on Nilakanta’s back until your company left.”

Syadar glanced up over her head at the giant sapphire Dragon and smiled.

“Ahh, my sweet Ajená, Dragons hold great magic.”

Nilakanta snorted.
That’s what I keep telling her
.

The beautiful cat-man bowed respectfully to the majestic mythical creature. Nilakanta mirrored him.

“Namaste, Father of Magic.”

Namaste, Darthian Crown Prince.

Jenevier looked from one to the other. “So… you two know each other?”

“Only through story and legend, little flower.”

We have never actually met. Yet, Byzantha is a realm of rare magic.

“And
he
is master of it all,” Syadar added.

Jenevier only giggled and shook her head, smiling brightly at two of her dearest friends.

“Tell me, Syadar. Is it true? Was Prince Alzeen speaking the truth concerning us? Did I mess up your life? Did I force a bond between us and then just abandon you?”

“You heard the whole of it, then?”

She only nodded her head, staring at him expectantly, apologetically.

“Ahh, my lovely Ajená, how could being your devoted life-mate ever be a bad thing?”

“Come, come, Syadar. You know the answer to that minus my words.”

He smiled and gently kissed her forehead.

She sighed. “So, Syadar… you’ve waited for me for—”

“Almost fourteen years now, Ajená, yes.”

“I have done you a grave harm, dear friend. One that should not be forgiven.”

The sensual cat-man ran his fingers through the curls framing her face, cupping her cheeks.

“My beautiful Ajená, I would have gladly waited
all
my lifetimes just to hold you as I do now.”

“Stop being so perfect, Kitty. I already love you too much.”

Syadar purr-laughed.

“Tell me something, chocolate Prince.” She placed her hands over his at her cheeks. “If you didn’t know I was going to
force
you into marriage… why did you give me your wedding dress to wear?”

“My what?”

She cocked only one eyebrow. “Your betrothal garment.”

His smile was the very definition of wicked. “Love the smirk, Princess.” He chuckled.

“And I yours. Now, answer the question.”

“Did
your
Alzeen like it? Did your ever-regal Guardian lose control of his stoic guise and become cross with you, Ajená?”

She smiled with one corner of her mouth. “You know he did, wicked little kitty cat.”

He laughed softly. “Never leave me again, Angel. We are far too much alike to ever be parted.”

“Careful what you wish for, Your Highness. You just might get it.”

“Ahh, little flower, your promises are almost as beautiful as is your smile.”

He took her hand and began leading her through the woods, touching tree trunks and brushing up against toadstools as he went. She smiled.

“My unsurpassed jealousy in your regard is not the only reason I bade you don the garment of my eternal vow. You are the answer long awaited, innocent little Ajená. Come. There is someone you must meet.”

She pulled back on his hand. “But I—”

He turned to face her with a smile that melted her heart and took her breath away.

“We have put off the inevitable long enough, my love. It is now time to face our future… to face
your
destiny.”

*****

“So…” He purred softly and looked down at her from the corner of his eye. “…you married a man while you were yet my wife.”

She blushed. “But let’s be fair, Syadar. I did not know I had sworn a vow to you.” She playfully bumped him with her elbow as they walked along. “You kept that sweet little secret all to yourself.”

He purr-laughed. “You’ve got some nerve, little flower—cheating on the Darthian Crown Prince.” He yanked on one of her curls. “You have one fierce set of claws for such a tiny little female.”

Nilakanta snorted.
You have no idea.

Syadar smiled. “Yes… I’m afraid I do.”

The gentle Prince laced his fingers through hers and ceased walking, pulling her back against him. Staring deeply into her adoring ethereal eyes for several long moments, he simply played with her hair and inhaled her essence.

“This man, your white warrior… he was extremely precious to you, wasn’t he, Ajená?”

Jenevier barely nodded. She felt the burn of her coming tears.

“I will always regret not being able to comfort you… not being there to hold you as you mourned…” He tenderly stroked her cheek. “…while you crumbled.” He sighed. “I love you too much, Ajená. What are you going to do with me? Hmm? How will you handle all this worship I will constantly bestow upon you?”

She laid her head against his chest and hugged him. “I love you too much right back, my delicious chocolate Prince.”

He smiled, purring softly. “We shall see, little Ajená. We shall see.”

Taking her hand once more, the Southern Prince stepped from the musical forest of Byzantha and out onto the expansive lawn surrounding the Northern Palace.

“Give me the honor of escorting you to your destiny, Milady.”

He bowed, and she giggled.

*****

“It is positively uncanny.”

The Northern King continued to circle her, gasping and whispering.

Another awestruck voice joined in. “I would not have believed it if I had not seen it with my own eyes.”

Jenevier only focused on her own clasped hands, her heart racing. She dared not look back up, too afraid she wouldn’t be able to quit staring at the beautiful Northern Prince, Alzeen. With but one glance at the face she had loved with all her heart… her soul fractured within her.

When you can no longer handle it, little one, say the word and we are gone.

Gratitude, Dragon. You are my strength, Brother.

She felt King Taizeen’s gentle touch a heartbeat before he lifted her chin.

“Look into my eyes, child.”

When she did, his were filled with tears. Her breath caught and she immediately grabbed his hand still trembling at her chin, and tenderly squeezed it.

“Are you well, Sire? If I have offended you in any way—”

“No, child. Never could such a face be offensive. My tears are born from past joys, burning proof of fondest remembrances.”

“M-my face? But how can you rememb—” Her eyes widened. “Have we met before, Your Highness?”

“Your face is hers… as perfect a likeness as if you were the same person.”

“Hers? You mean… my great-grandmother?” She furrowed her brow. “You think I look like Bellevine?”

“No, child. You are the mirror image of Talia.”

Her heart skipped precious beats when she heard Nilakanta gasp.

“W-who’s Talia?” she whispered.

The King smiled softly. “Come. I have much to show you.”

*****

She stared into the giant pedestaled orb, mesmerized by its ethereal magic. It filled the enormous library in the heart of the massive Northern Palace.

“Wow…” was all she could say.

Syadar watched as the scenes from antiquity played out in her wide pink eyes.

She gasped again. “It’s simply amazing… she looks exactly like me. So… eerie…”

The young girl dancing there amongst the poppies, twirling circles around in the bright red blooms, was laughing gaily. A happier soul she had never witnessed.

Syadar wrapped an arm around Jenevier’s waist. “Her giggles mirror yours as well, Ajená.”

“Look.” She pointed, stepping ever closer to the glowing sphere. “Who is that?” She glanced back at her chocolate fur-friend. “Look at his hair, Syadar. Like… flowing auburn flames.” She reached out and lightly touched the cool glass. “So beautiful… Such a creature cannot be of this world.”

Syadar and Alzeen growled under their breath. Jenevier didn’t notice their vocalized displeasure. Her immediate adoration of the ancient stranger was all that filled her mind.

The statuesque man was slowly approaching the spinning girl, his back to them. His fiery red tresses were bound with a black cord between his large shoulder blades, hanging freely down past his waist, floating on the breeze.

“It reminds me of Alzeen’s. So unique… marvelous…”

Jenevier jumped, squeaking out a yelp when the so-named Northern Prince came to stand at her side, his arm lightly brushing hers. Syadar embraced her from behind, holding her tightly, comforting her until her trembling ceased. She smiled when he tenderly kissed her shoulder.

“Yes,” the King said. “Alzeen is colored thusly. He favors his ancestor a great deal.”

Her eyes narrowed as she focused back on the giant ginger-crowned man, wishing he would turn around, hoping for but a glance at his profile.

“You are more glorious than heaven, Milady.” The melodic voice floated out of the orb.

Jenevier watched as the girl who could be her, quit dancing and turned to face the approaching man… her eyes going almost impossibly wide when she beheld him.

The golden-curled Talia didn’t run or scream or show any signs of mistrust toward the nearing stranger, even though he seemed a giant compared to her. She only smiled.

Just like me
, Jenevier thought.
Blindly trusting… to a fault. Alas, it will be her downfall… as it has been mine… so many times now.

Naga?

Yes, Brother?

I believe we should take our leave, tiny Angel
, Nilakanta said.
Turn around now, little one. I will be waiting in the courtyard, wings outstretched.

“Hello there, good sir.” The girl’s smile was absolutely beaming.

The man took her hand, slowly pulling it to his lips as he bowed.

“I pray you bless me with your name, child. It is my only wish.”

The girl giggled and crinkled up her nose.

“Look at that,” Syadar whispered through his smile. “Exactly like you, Ajená.”

He lightly tapped the tip of her nose and she involuntarily crinkled it up.

He purr-laughed. “See?”

But Jenevier’s undivided attention was focused on the past-displaying magic before her.

“My name is… Talia.”

“Ahh… Talia. A more perfect name could not have been given you—heaven’s dew.”

The girl giggled again.

Listen to me, Kagi Naga. It is time for us to part, little one. These secrets are not for today.

But… you brought me here, Dragon. You winged me to my destiny and I wish to behold it.

This is not your destiny, tiny Angel. What you look upon now is only mistakes from the past. Come to me now, Guardian of Dragons. Or I will tear off their roof and snatch you up with my talons.

But she was no longer listening to the deep ethereal voice inside her head. She could focus on nothing, save the enchanting couple before her.

“And what is
your
name, good sir?”

“There is much power in a name, lovely Talia. If I gift you with mine, will you make me a promise?”

The girl’s sparkling blue eyes widened again. “A promise? Oh, anything.” She smiled up at him. “You have but to name it.”