The Sanction (3 page)

Her prediction did not fall on deaf
ears. Low murmurs swept through the room long before she heard him
command their ear. “She lies,” he offered nonchalantly. “Hunters do
not hail from such a small coven as hers.”

She blinked several times to bring his
towering frame into focus. He stood confident, looking down his
nose at her, snarling.

“
You are wrong, mongrel,”
she said softly, struggling to her feet. Her face flushed, for the
dress she wore was tattered and torn, and she had been stripped of
her stockings and shoes. “I am Amarinda Cronus – and my family will
see you butchered for what you have done!”

At the mention of her name, silence
reigned. She noted with satisfaction the slight panic that flashed
in his eyes before it was masked once again with bitter resentment.
“If I must die, then it will not be in vain,” he stung swiftly.
“Rhys!”

At his bark, another man stepped
forward. He was not as tall as her captor, but was fiercely
attractive. He did not meet her eyes when he stood at her
side.

“
Ready the whipping post,”
he commanded stonily, his eyes not once swaying from her direct
gaze. “At dawn, we execute her.”

****

They came for her just before first
light. Amarinda sat regally, waiting. She had spent the majority of
the night fighting the urge to scream her fear and frustration, but
the guards at the gate would have enjoyed seeing her come undone.
Already they taunted her with lewd comments; already the sound of
them rattling the bars of the cage was enough to send her over the
edge and into the abyss of panic.

When they opened the gate, she stood
slowly, dreading what was to come. Still, she would not beg for
mercy from these beasts. She would lift her face to the sun and
keep her lips clamped shut. They would not get the satisfaction of
seeing her grovel.

Even as the Were named Rhys gestured
for her to be shackled, she recounted in her mind the bits and
pieces of stories told by the Hunters about the battles they had
won and lost. She may not have been trained with the sword, but
vampire blood coursed through her veins. Royal blood flowed within
her. In the moments to come, she would die like a true Cronus
female – with her pride intact.

They led her down darkened corridors
until they came to a large dome, dug straight out from the
mountain. Around them, only a few were present. They sat wearing
bear skins to ward off the chill of the morning air. Amarinda felt
their resentment toward her with each look she received, but kept
her face void of emotion. To the center of the dome, a stone post
stood, tall and steady. One of the Weres clutched onto her elbow
and dragged her forward. She wrenched her arm away and cast him an
icy stare.

“
My feet work well enough
beast! There is no need for your assistance.”

She could sense his anger at having
been dismissed, and quickly made her way to the whipping post
before he retaliated with his fist. Once there, she summoned the
courage to blink away the panic that threatened to engulf her. She
sniffed the wind. It was sweet and heavy with the odor of autumn.
Beside her, someone moved. Amarinda did not flinch when Rhys
attached the chains of her already shackled hands to a third clasp
that was embedded into the stone. As the irons clanked, her heart
beat a little faster. She took a quick glance above her head and
then to the east. Already, the sky was blushed in hues of
pink.

She leaned against the post, hating
that her feet were weak from fear. A few yards in front of her, he
stood stiffly. She met his gaze with open repulsion. Rhys went to
stand at his side. In silence, they waited.

Amarinda saw the sky brighten. The
first rays of sunlight touched the uppermost part of the post.
Second by painstaking second it descended. She squinted against the
sting in her eyes from the brilliant glare, and felt her pores suck
in the warmth of the birthing day. Courageously, she lifted her
face and waited. The smart of tears formed behind her heavy lids.
Was she a coward that she could not stare into the face of death?
She swallowed hard. She had no more courage to give.

What she had expected when the shaft of
light hit her, she did not fully know, but the feather-soft brush
of warmth caressing her flesh was not it. Stunned, she opened her
eyes and lifted her chained hands as though they were unfamiliar.
Dust particles floated everywhere. She swept her hand through the
almost microscopic specks and allowed the tears to spill down her
face. Movement demanded her attention, and her awe vanished long
enough to register exactly what had happened. She stood,
unflinching beneath the dawn.

The Weres were out of their seats,
confusion and horror crossing their faces as they spoke in panicked
voices amongst themselves. He, however, considered her with a
mixture of dread and … relief? In a flash his expression was
shuttered and he barked a command. Despite her resolve, she
flinched. Something was said to Rhys who moved to obey. She was
unshackled and removed from their presence, forced back through the
narrow halls until they came to a less populated part of the
stronghold. Here, light streamed in through every available window.
Up a winding staircase they went until her legs ached with protest.
She stumbled upon the dirty hem of her gown and was hauled to her
feet. Rhys did not miss a step. At the end of a narrow hall, a
heavy wooden door was pushed open and she was released at its
entrance.

Amarinda sucked in one breath on the
threshold and spun around to flee just as quickly. Her nose made
contact with a muscled mass of chest. Stunned, she watched stupidly
as Rhys blocked the doorway with his large form. The cold glint in
his eyes forced her to turn around. Hesitant, she stepped forward.
The chamber reeked of him. She pushed away the nausea that
threatened to consume her and made it all of five steps before his
voice thundered upon his entrance.

“
What form of witch-craft
have you blood-suckers wielded that the sun has no effect on
you?!”

She stiffened and turned to meet his
fury. Behind him, Rhys stood guard. “The same kind that turns you
into animals whenever you will it!”

“
How many more are there
like you? Are there Hunters with the same ability?”

She kept her mouth shut. His nostril
flared at the challenge. Let them assume the worst. His eyes did
not break contact with hers, and she felt him peel away the layers
of mettle she had so carefully spent the night putting into
place.

“
We should alert the men,”
Rhys offered calmly, “just in case.”

“
There are no more,” he
announced with decisiveness. For a split second she recoiled, and
he offered a self-satisfied smile. She swallowed unwillingly. “If
there had been, the Hunters would have been here already.” He spun
around on his heel and stormed away. Rhys closed the door and
bolted it from the outside.

Amarinda crumpled to her knees, her
strength sapped. She drew deep ragged breaths and allowed the tears
she so adamantly held at bay to fall. What would happen to her now?
She looked up at the sunlight that streamed through the window and
struggled to her feet. She flung the window opened and gasped. The
sun was indeed warm, soaking into her skin, heating her throughout
her form. She reveled in the fact briefly before gazing at that
sheer beauty of the stronghold. Hewn out of the very stone of the
mountain, the drop was a treacherous one. As far as the eye could
see there was only green – thick forests touched even the
horizon.

Her mother had been human when she met
her father a few centuries ago. As far as Amarinda knew, she was
the only human to be ever taken into the coven and mated to a
vampire. The bonding that sealed the vows spoken at the ritual of
marriage was an unbreakable one – forever was promised, so her
mother had become immortal. It seemed however, that Amarinda was
born with some human qualities as well. Maybe that was why a mate
was given to her from the Weres.

She pushed the thought aside and went
to the bed. Her heart clenched in her chest then, realizing that
she had spent many years pondering and dreaming about the mate she
would spend the rest of her life with. Now that it was revealed,
bile rose in her throat.

If only he was a vampire, he would have
made a fierce one. She would not have objected, for he was
attractive. She could probably have dealt with his temper too, if
it was not directed toward her. Even if he were a human she would
not have been bothered. But a Were?

Exhausted, she tumbled on the bed and
rolled to the center. The thick bearskin furs that were thoroughly
infused with his scent calmed the pace of her heart. Wasn’t that
ironic, she mused, since he was the source of her terror. Her
stomach groaned, and she felt her body tighten. A mild, painful
pulse resonated gently through her. She had not fed for many, many
days.

Cuddled there, she rocked back and
forth, willing the pain to disappear.

****

Graeme slammed the door behind him and
went straight toward the window that overlooked the village below.
His father had left him this responsibility several years ago when
he had been killed in battle against another horde. With strong
allies and strong enemies, he had been forced to leave the
wandering life he so loved and had tied himself to the people that
rejected him from the very beginning.

The true leader of the horde had been
struck down with his father - the legitimate son of his father’s
mate. He, however, was the bastard no one wanted to acknowledge.
His face softened at the thought of his mother, well tucked away
from the clutches of any who would dare harm her, away from the
cruel accusations that would no doubt break her heart.

She had confessed to him once that she
had been his father’s true mate, but circumstances had forced him
to marry the daughter of another powerful horde. With such an
alliance, he would not have had to worry about war anytime soon.
That, however, was broken the moment he and the result to such a
union were killed in battle. His father’s mate had returned to her
horde and received protection beneath her brother’s roof while
Graeme had taken up the mantle and grudgingly carried
on.

Graeme never wanted to become anything
more than a good son to his mother. Now, he was the hordes’ leader,
and as such, he was expected to carry out their laws and protect
them when in danger. He had done a damn good job at it too. He had
taken the strength of the horde and multiplied alliances not
through marriage, but through trade. Now they were a force to be
reckoned with this far north. Even the vampires stayed
away.

At the thought he scowled fiercely. If
what the female said was to be believed, they would come. He raked
his fingers through his dark hair and ground his teeth until they
hurt. He sent the scouts to do nothing more than that – scout. When
they returned some three days later, it was with a woman in tow – a
vampire woman.

It was a rare thing to capture a
female. The men vastly amused themselves, saying that were it not
for her stench, they might have found her irresistible. Truth be
told, Graeme agreed with them. And for good reason too.

She was his mate.

He sneered in disgust at the word. What
would the Weres say if they found out that he had been given a
vampire mate? The thought was too daunting to consider. He fought
hard to deserve the respect of the people now. It had taken years
of proving himself to be finally accepted as a fierce warrior and
worthy leader. Though not loved, he was respected. The power he
held, the strength of his sword arm, and the bloodlust he birthed
in battle was a force to be reckoned with.

His first thought when he spotted her
being weighed down by heavy chains was that she was beautiful. Her
hair was black and long, shielding all the hidden parts of her. Her
skin was a creamy hue blushed with embarrassment and awareness. Her
lips were flush and pink, and her nose was pert and small, resting
exactly in the center of her face. It was her eyes that had left
him speechless. They were unlike anything he had ever seen – silver
they were, flecked in shards of blue and green.

In a word, she was stunning. He knew
then she was his just like he knew she knew he was hers - pure
instinct. He had seen the shock register in her eyes and the way
the breaths she had tried so hard to control forced the beat of her
heart to thunder. Then came the disgust. It was written as clear as
day over her face when the realization sank it. Her reaction stung
his pride more than he was willing to admit, and that if nothing
else, had caused him to lash out. His anger had burned even at dawn
when she was chained beneath the sky. He thought himself ready to
see her burn - after all, she did not want a Were for a mate and he
did not want a vampire. He had steeled himself, waiting for her to
be turned to ash and had even considered joining the men in their
cheers when – nothing.

In that instant Graeme did not know how
he found the strength to stand or to pretend that he was angry. He
ordered her taken to his room for fear that the men would take
matters into their own hands. Now, that was where she would stay
until he decided what the hell he was going to do with her. The
horde had to be protected. They came first, and a mate with vampire
blood in her veins was not worth the risk - no matter how beautiful
she was.