Fervor (The Fervor Chronicles Book 1) (11 page)

“Silence!” The king’s voice roared across the room.

She stiffened, confused at the turn of events. Stammering, she adjusted the scarf at her neck, smoothing the silk down with trembling fingers. “But My King, I only seek to help you—”

Striding forward, he grabbed her by the neck, digging into her burn and cutting off her air supply. “As far as I am concerned, this is your fault. If it were not for your simpering and begging, my daughter would never have been down in the courtyard when that wild beast escaped.”

Her hands fluttered around his, desperate for air, but knowing she would write her own death sentence if she touched him. The fire in his eyes told her he wanted her dead. Yet as all this was happening, she realized no cold seeped through his fingers. He did not burn her as his daughter did and finally, she had her proof that he could not. He did not possess the power to freeze; otherwise, she’d be dead. He’d led her to believe he’d chosen not to harm her.

“Majesty, do tell, what has passed here?” The prince interrupted and she fell from the king’s grasp, bumping against the settee.

“What has passed, you ask? We are ruined, you and I both.”

The prince frowned and ran a cursory glance over Anona. “Ruined?”

“The princess is gone.
Gone.”
He kicked the settee, jarring Anona as she gasped for breath, curling in on herself, trying to appear as small as possible to escape notice.

“But how?” The prince looked uncertain, the spoiled little rich boy facade melting from his face, fear replacing it.

“She was kidnapped in my own courtyard, by that, that…
animal.”

“But we had a deal.” The prince started to pace. “My family is counting on this union to smooth over some past, uh, indiscretions.” He cleared his throat, unable to meet his future father-in-law’s eye.

“I know all about it. The whole world knows about your fondness for
pain.”
The king’s eyebrow raised in disgust, a rare show of emotion for the royal.

“Now, wait just a—”

“Shut. Your. Mouth. You think I care? It only helped to increase the dowry you’d pay upon marrying her. And I
will
have that money. We need to fix this.” The king paced, looking uncomfortable with how to process his frustration. He was man accustomed to getting what he wanted, in all things big and small.

Anona’s mind whirled. The prince liked pain, no surprise. He liked it hard, no matter who administered the blow. Having worked him over a few times herself, she’d thought it was only a passing fancy, but now, discovering he’d almost lost his crown over his activities made it an addiction, something she could exploit.

Oh, and even better? The king was broke. No wonder such sparse decor. That was why the diamond covers and fixtures had disappeared over the years. But where did all the money go? If she could discover that, she’d have as much power over the king as she would over the prince. It was time to put it all on the line; she just hoped she lived long enough to explain her plan.

“The ceremony will go on as planned,” she said as she sat up from the settee.

“What? You dare interrupt our meeting. Guards!” No guards heeded his call and a flash of vulnerability crossed his face. They were all broken and bleeding down below.

“Would you have me arrested when I can fix all of this for you?”

“Get out!”

“Please, Majesty, let her speak.” The prince stepped next to her, and the pieces started to fall in place.

Anona cut the prince a look promising pain and oh, so much pleasure, and the prince could hardly control his shudder.
So preferable to be the one in charge, rather than the one receiving the whip.
She had to fight to control the hatred she felt for the king. “The ceremony
will
go on as planned.”

“You idiot, if you haven’t heard, we have no princess, and without her there can be no ceremony.” The king looked furious, ready to strike. Gone was the emotionless monarch.

“Yes, but who knows that?”

“We have a kingdom full of the Vendri. They will—”

She rose from the settee and faced the king, careful to have access to the door if she needed to run. This was the biggest gamble of her life. “They have been on strict lockdown since the first outbreak. They are so frightened they haven’t dared exit their rooms.”

“That still leaves the guards,” the prince piped in.

“And the princess’s drudges.” The king’s eyes jumped with the possibilities.

“Your guards are all half dead and would never cross their king. As for the drudges,” her voice dropped in fury, “leave them to me. Leave everything to me, Sire.” Anona could see his resolve start to crack.

“But the royals expect to see a ceremony.”

“After what’s happened today, you will opt for a small, private ceremony. No Vendri allowed. You will emphasize the danger still at hand. The beast has escaped, he could be anywhere.”

The king’s polish returned, his power growing, and once again he donned his false mask of indifference. “And the aristocracy will leave as fast as their frozen feet will take them.”

“Yes. Everything will be arranged. The princess will retire and not be seen for days—maybe weeks—too upset from what has transpired.”

“But won’t her servants expect to eventually see her? And—And what if she comes back?” the prince asked.

Then I’ll kill her,
she thought as she placed a hand against her neck. It was heresy to even think the words, let alone say them to her king. “It makes no difference. The ceremony goes on as scheduled, tomorrow evening when the bell tolls twelve. If she is found before then, the ceremony proceeds. If she isn’t, the ceremony proceeds. It works either way.” She held her breath, waiting for a response.

The king’s face held no reaction. “The key to success is ensuring no one speaks of her disappearance. No one. I will not be made to look a fool. See to it that this plan works, slave, and you might yet live another day.” Banishing them with a wave of his hand, “You have much work to do.”

High from the near death experience, Anona and the prince raced from the room. Deep in the shadows, she slammed him against the wall. He was small, willowy, but still strong. He allowed her dominance. Pressing against him, she twisted his nipple, knowing exactly how to manipulate him. “We go to my quarters, now. We have our own plan to implement.”

‡

D
ead. I must
be dead.

Disoriented, feeling as if his body had been taken apart and then rearranged, Arun lay stunned, for a moment. Everything ached, throbbed, even burned. And not in a good way. The release of his new power, whatever it was, had drained every ounce of energy he’d possessed. Every wound now came to life, reminding him of the continual beatings over the past two days.

But gods. He was safe! Finally home, and he wasn’t alone. Would never be alone again. Laying flat on his back, with the princess firmly attached to his side, Arun waited for the familiar sounds and feel of his kingdom. Soon he would need to get home and focus on evacuation and the trek across the Hamada, but for now, he waited, just wanting to feel the familiar comfort of home, the heat that would make his skin sizzle, the smells of his favorite spicy foods, the instantaneous power of the sun and how it would melt the deep freeze of that gods-forsaken, icy kingdom from his veins. If he never set foot there again—Wait, something was wrong
. What …?

The sounds were off, different. Too loud and sharp, the heat wrapped him up in a moist blanket rather than a stinging warmth. Where was the bright light that usually burned through his eyelids, whether his eyes were open or closed?

Popping the lids open, he caught his breath, realizing something was wrong… very wrong. Blinking slowly, he almost wished he were blind again. Instead of the endless blue skies only interrupted by billowing clouds, he saw green. Miles of green attached to… What were those? By the gods, they were trees. Trees so massive in height he couldn’t make out the tops. Leaves the size of small sun-huts overlapped, creating a ceiling of green with the sun poking through only the tiniest of openings.

Tightening his hold on Caprice, he shuffled to his feet, biting back a groan. He spun in a small circle, taking the princess around for the ride. Nothing but the same. Massive trees, some sort of green moss growing
everywhere,
and a soft glow permeated the place. It must be the sun filtering through leaves. The air felt heavy, and at first it was hard for him to breath. How could the air feel so thick, as if he should wade through it, instead of walk?

Judging by her silence, Arun assumed Caprice was still knocked out from the portal. He reached back for his pack, relieved he still had it. The explanation to this riddle must be in his father’s journal. Setting Caprice down, he rifled through his belongings. There must have been a mistake, had he accessed the wrong portal, was there more than one? A soft pit-pat pricked his ears, the sound growing louder as he—

“Aaaaah!” Over and over, Caprice screamed.

He jumped to his feet, crouched low, preparing for the attack, but they were as alone as before. Circling, glancing left and right, he saw nothing. “What? What is it?”

Lifting her arm in front of him, she stood, and then looked up to the canopy. His eyes followed hers, when she squeaked. “I’m melting.”

“What?” Then he felt it, soft rain pelting his face, his arms. The warm rain melted the icy cold he felt all the way to his bones. Looking at Caprice, he relaxed his stance. The power that he’d become accustomed to ratcheted down, and his shoulders relaxed.

“What is this? Get it off,
get it off!
Look at me! Something is
wrong.”

“Relax. It’s not what you think.”

She looked up, the coal around her eyes smudged and dripping down her cheeks. “Not what I think? It’s
burning
me. And look, my dress, it’s sticking against my skin. What is it made of? It’s so warm.”

She looked miserable, the mist now turning into a full downpour. How was it she’d never seen rain? He watched as she walked around in circles, flapping her arms like a sun-chicken with its head cut off. He was trying to be understanding. Really, he was, but… He threw his head back and laughed, the tension leaving him for once. Within seconds he regretted it, bending over, the chuckles turning into a coughing fit.

Damn ribs.
They still hadn’t healed.

Caprice went silent. Gazing at him with narrowed eyes, she looked about ready to explode. He wondered how long he would allow her to suffer when he noticed the white of her gown had gone see-through. His mouth went dry; all humor fled. Dear gods, her chest heaved, and two rose colored nipples strained against her bodice. Instantly he grew hard, still unaccustomed to the voracity of his attraction.

“I take it from your reaction, this occurrence is somehow… normal? That it’s not unusual that a warm liquid is falling from the sky?” She held her palms up, looking skyward and squinting one eye as the rain pelted her face.

In that moment, with her innocent expression and her damn near perfect body, his fascination grew, intensified, became a living thing. He needed to know everything about this strange woman who had never seen rain, never touched a man, and yet set his soul on fire. He gulped great breaths of air in, watching the rivulets of water run down her neck, pooling under her dress, caressing her perfect breasts. He fought the urge to rip the gown from her body and worship her rosy nipples.

“I guess it’s not so different from snow… And considering the heat here… When snow is melted… It makes sense… So strange, though, but it does feel…” Muttering to herself, she puzzled out the problem. She took in slow breaths, calming herself, showing him she didn’t succumb to hysteria often. As she worked it through, she straightened, composed her features, blanking all expression. The Ice Princess had returned. “This is your home?”

“Hells no.
Come on. Let’s find some shelter from the rain.” He started for the trees, but stopped when she didn’t follow.

“I will not take another step until you tell me
where-you-have-taken-me.”
Her hands sat on her hips only pulling her gown, tighter, against her chest.
Gods
, he loved her furious.

His erection tented his pants, annoying the hell out of him.
I don’t have time for this shit.
But he couldn’t get the image out of his head of pulling her under a tree, leaning her over a log, and pounding into her. Clenching his fists, he turned. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. But if we don’t get somewhere dry, I won’t be able to think.”

The rigidity eased from her face, replaced by wonder. “Look.” Her whisper skipped along his heightened senses. She ran a finger down one arm, and held it in front of him. “Look.”

“What is it?” His voice was gruffer than normal. Damn, he was running out of time. With the rising of the sun, he was on day five. Two more days until his brother and his people would be gone. “The liquid is washing off the glass.” Her eyes widened and he caught a ghost of a smile.

Helpless, his eyes traveled over her body, memorizing the broad shoulders that tapered into long arms and delicate hands. Hands that had brought him a pounding orgasm that had him screaming his release. She was an infuriating distraction. “It’s water. What the hell kind of life have you led that no one has explained rain to you? Now come on, we need to figure out where we are.