Chapter 25
"You should have worn something prettier. We are going to a feast, a celebration. You do remember what those are like, don't you? " Sharisse made a sound of disgust as her gaze swept over Dijana who was wearing her tunic and leggings. "How are you going to attract any male in that drab thing? Even the scribe isn't blind. With all the merriment in celebrating Prince Amyr, he may forget himself, so tonight will be your best opportunity to seduce him. You are not making this easy, sister. Do you want to marry Lord Taeron? He will kill you for what you have done, for all your lies."
Did it matter? Wondered Dijana unhappily. She did not feel like celebrating and would prefer staying in the cottage instead of accompanying her sister to the feast at the castle. Not even the promise of seeing Stryfe could cheer her although she rarely saw him in the past few days. Dijana was sure that he did not want to see her after she had asked his opinion in breaking the marriage vow with his brother, so she had avoided him by staying near the cottage. Her verbal tangle with Prince Amyr could not have endeared her to the Calabrian scribe, but she despised that spineless imperial weasel and that was another reason that she did not want to attend the feast.
Sharisse should be ashamed of herself for going to a feast honoring Prince Amyr after what had happened on Teralon. Dijana was disgusted that Lord Mordrad was honoring him even if Carrinda had told them it was because that morning Lord Taeron had killed the beast that would be served. Lord Mordrad used the Calabrian prince's presence as an excuse to celebrate. That was yet another reason that Dijana could not, would not, marry Lord Taeron. How could he be involved in any celebration for the bastard that had manipulated him and caused the deaths or enslavement of many Calabrians?
"And your hair!" Sharisse tossed back her own silky dark hair. "You should not have cut it."
She hadn't cut it, but then Sharisse knew exactly what had happened to the long golden hair that had been a source of pride to Dijana. She hadn't been allowed to grow it out, not since Kai had hacked it off after he had raped her that last day. Dijana remembered the moment as if it had happened yesterday for she would never forget it. She had been lying on the tiles of the grotto, barely alive from loss of blood, in pain and humiliated after all that the Varoonyan warlord had done to her, so when he raised his sword over her, she had been relieved that he was killing her. But he seized her hair and when she expected to feel the blade slide through the flesh of her ravaged exposed neck, he slid the sharp edge through her hair at the nape. With a twisted, ugly smile, he had raised the golden mass to his face, breathed deeply, then walked away holding it in his hand. Even if she wanted to grow it back so that she could attract a mate, her father had forbidden her. It was one of the many ways that he forced her to relive her shame.
Her sister resented that they were walking to the castle together. Sharisse had expected Lord Taeron to escort her to the feast, but he had not come for her. Of course her sister blamed her, berating her for her mannish behavior, in particular interrupting the men in their practice which she had heard about at the castle. Dijana had not made that mistake again. Although she had not seen the men doing anything more than male posturing following some fantastic feat performed by Lord Taeron shortly before her arrival, Dijana was unsettled by the brutish Calabrians, sweaty and panting from their exercises. She could believe the stories she had heard of them capturing females in the wilds of their plains which they called the Wastelands, breeding off them and keeping them as their slaves. What she could not believe was that an intelligent woman like Lady Quynn had vowed to marry one of them, the worst of the lot, their arrogant prince.
"You look dreadful. You were never pretty, but now you are positively wretched." Sharisse turned up her pert nose and moved ahead of her.
Dijana felt as wretched as she looked, but it was because she needed blood and she could not bring herself to approach Stryfe when she knew how it would affect him. Her father had forced the servants to give her blood and they had done so only because he threatened to thrash them. Dijana had felt their revulsion mingled with pleasure as she fed from them, her father standing over her, his face stony and unforgiving. He always brought women, and when she was done, he took the women away, eager to take advantage of the aroused females. Dijana cared too much about Stryfe to subject him to wanting her against his will.
Even before they reached the castle, the sounds of revelry made her want to turn around and leave, but before she could, she heard Lord Taeron hailing them and she felt the bottom fall out of her stomach to see him approach with his brother trailing behind. Just seeing him made her pulse race, not because she wanted his blood, but because she dared to believe that he felt something for her besides pity. As the two men approached, Stryfe walking behind the Calabrian warlord, Dijana could not take her eyes off him. She felt guilty for the lies she had told, and she wanted to tell him the truth, but she was afraid of losing any affection he might have for her.
"Princess, I feared that you were not going to come," Lord Taeron said after bowing to Sharisse.
Her sister smiled prettily at him although she had been cursing him as she waited for him to escort her from the cottage. She curled her arm around his and moved close to him. Was it Dijana's imagination or did Lord Taeron seem to distance himself from her? Was his smile forced? Dijana wondered if Stryfe or the prince told him about her request, and she feared how Sharisse would react when she learned that Dijana wanted to repudiate her oath to marry Lord Taeron.
For now Sharisse seemed oblivious to his reserve as she batted her long lashes at the Calabrian warlord. "I was waiting for you to escort me," she simpered with a pout that never failed to evoke a male response.
Lord Taeron proved he was a male and not immune to her charm by raising her hand and brushing the palm with his lips. "I beg your forgiveness, princess. I have been very busy training the men and after the events of the day, well, I was unable to get away. I hope that your sister has proven a worthy escort in my place."
Sharisse laughed softly, the husky sound meant to seduce. Dijana had seen her sister use this ploy on many unsuspecting males who would end up doing anything she wished, no matter how ill-advised. "How could I ever prefer her company to yours?"
Lord Taeron smiled as he looked into her limpid blue gaze. "You and I have a similar problem. I have been burdened with my taciturn brother and I assure you that I am heartily sick of his incompetent attempts to learn to use a sword. When he is not tripping over his own feet, he is pestering me for details about my excursions on Teralon and Varoonya." He was guiding her sister away, but he looked over his shoulder at his brother. "Keep the princess' sister company, brother. I presume you can handle that without hurting yourself."
If his brother meant to retort, Lord Taeron did not wait for him to speak as he walked away leaning close to Sharisse. Dijana felt embarrassed to become Stryfe's problem and she could not tell from his expressionless handsome face how he felt about having her company forced upon him.
After a moment of uncomfortable silence between them, she was disheartened that he did not greet her before saying, "There are places for us to sit inside." He offered his arm to her awkwardly which she took with equal discomfort, and he was tense as he walked stiffly with her into the castle where men and women crowded together laughing and talking loudly leaving barely any room to walk. Dijana was sure that he would rather not be burdened by her and she tried not to feel upset, instead berating herself for daring to believe any man could care about her.
Serving women hurried past them carrying pitchers, stopping to pour wine when hailed with raised cups, avoiding the pawing hands of men who were drinking too much. Men waved to Stryfe and women brushed against him, and while he acknowledged the men with a nod, he ignored the women as he pushed his way through and passed under an arch that led to a huge hall that was now filled with benches and tables loaded down with foods. Musicians played lively music and some men and women were dancing, but many others were eating and drinking, their voices loud, their behavior unruly. At the far end of the hall she saw the roasting animal and she could not imagine any man, least of all Lord Taeron, slaying the beast that would feed the many people gathered.
She noted Lord Mordrad presiding over the chaos with his wife at his side, sitting at a table set above the others on a dias. His wife was openly flirting with another male who made no secret of his intimate knowledge of her. Nobody seemed to find it amiss although Dijana was disgusted and when she looked away from them, she caught Stryfe's glance at the table and thought he might feel the same. She had heard that humans were casual in their mating habits, the very reason that Lord Taeron's sire had not acknowledged him and that the man had sired two offspring in his own system. Apparently they were not nearly as casual as these people. Dijana had thought that the healer, Carrinda, was Lord Mordrad's mistress, but she had seen several men exit her cottage after an affectionate farewell, Prince Amyr included. She knew that Calabrian males bonded with their mates and did not seek other females. On Teralon most mates remained together although there were instances of couples that chose to part ways provided the separation was mutual. Dijana had looked forward to the day when she would be allowed to consider the courtship of a winged warrior, but even before Kai's arrival, Balak had refused to entertain any male's offer. Kai had destroyed any chance of a future with a mate.
Stryfe led her to the table where she saw the crown prince lounging with a cup in his hand. Dijana balked at approaching him. "Must we sit with him?" she found the courage to ask. She hated Prince Amyr with a passion born of the suffering she had been subjected to when Amyr had foiled the surprise attack on Teralon that would have liberated her many days sooner, giving Kai the chance to torture her one last time. As far as she was concerned, Prince Amyr had earned his fate as a slave.
Stryfe glanced at her. "I must be near to observe so that I might later record the event."
The idea of him scribbling his accounts for the empire irritated her. A man of Stryfe's build should be a warrior and not a scribe. "Do you write every detail for the emperor?" Dijana wondered if he had written an account of what she had told him.
He understood the reason for her question. "I have not recorded what you have shared with me, Sharisse. That is between you and me."
"And your foolish prince," she added with a glance at the arrogant bastard. He had spied on their private conversation and knew all there was to know about her except the truth of who she was. "I do not trust him."
She noticed now that there was a handsome young man standing behind the prince trying to look fierce, but it was obvious he had never attended a feast because his head kept swiveling about to watch the chaotic activity. "Who is that? I have not seen him before."
"You will not believe it when I tell you," muttered Stryfe. "My brother has many trials ahead if he hopes to train me, my prince and that oaf." She waited with raised brows. "I will introduce you."
He took her to the prince to whom he bowed low in such obeisance that Dijana resisted the urge to kick him to the floor. Of course he had no choice, having adopted Calabria as his home, but she refused to pander to Emperor Trey's useless heir and disliked seeing him do it now.
Prince Amyr looked at Dijana standing at Stryfe's side, meeting her disgusted gaze with his own distaste. "You have nothing finer to wear? You are, afterall, the sister of the princess."
"I am not wasting finery on a feast honoring you." The prince's arrogance was appalling. Did he think she would soon forget his incompetence on her planet? She, of all people, would never forget.
"Finery would be wasted on you anyway," he said with a disrespectful snort. She should not have been hurt by the insult, having heard it so often in her life, but having it said in front of Stryfe embarrassed her. "Is there a reason why you are subjecting me to this female, scribe?"
The man behind the prince chuckled, but the look he gave Dijana was sympathetic. Stryfe maneuvered Dijana behind Amyr to place her before the other man. "Sharisse, this is Jeshed. He has until this morning been a dragon."
"A dragon!" She remembered the dragon from a few days ago and she could not believe that this man was that dragon. "You jest!" Even though she knew that many strange and wondrous beings existed beyond the frontier, she was shocked to see the dragon in a man's form.
"The scribe would never jest," said Jeshed with a smile that warmed her and made her feel more at ease. "I think we shall have an opportunity to get to know each other better." He reached out to put his hand on her shoulder and she almost jumped back, but the touch was so soothing and she was frozen by the gaze of his pale violet eyes. She was sure that he said something, but she did not hear it and she did not see his lips move. Yet she felt so much comfort that she wanted to stay where she was, her gaze locked on his, his warm hand calming her.
"Stop pawing the thrall," ordered Amyr tersely, breaking whatever spell the dragon man had woven over her.
Jeshed removed his hand, but he nodded to her respectfully before turning his divided attention back to the prince and the feast. Stryfe moved her further down the table, past Lord Taeron and her sister who did not even glance her way.
"I am sorry that my prince is an ass," Stryfe said with a sigh. "I can tell you that it is the only skill he has mastered and he has worked very hard at maintaining it."
Dijana caught herself smiling. Could she really be feeling better? She decided that she would seek out Jeshed in the future to ask him about his people. And she would not be honest with herself if she did not admit that she would ask him to use his calming touch on her again. In that brief moment, she felt as if a small part of her pain was gone, that he had healed something deep inside her.
Although she got little benefit from eating food, she could still enjoy doing so. She accepted a cup of wine and noted that Stryfe had refused it and she realized that the prince was not getting drunk as the rest of the men and women were. When Princess Chaela had come to Teralon she had tried to ban the raucous feasts at the palace because she did not drink and found the behavior deplorable, but she found out soon enough how little sway the emperor's daughter had on Teralon. Avar tried to get her to drink the nectar brewed from honey that was served at the royal table, but she refused on the grounds that fermented drinks of any kind had a disastrous effect on Calabrians. Even though her father was only part Calabrian, she suffered the ill-effects all the same. Lord Taeron, Dijana noted, was drinking liberally so Dijana concluded that he had more of his father's blood than his mother's.
Lady Quynn arrived with her son and the healer Carrinda who took a place beside Lord Mordrad at the head table. The man's wife greeted Carrinda warmly and Dijana noted that the two women seemed to be close friends although they shared the man sitting between them. Lady Quynn was clearly displeased to be seated near the prince while her son sat on the man's lap. She ignored not only him, but the man Jeshed who tried to engage her in conversation. The only thing that interested her was her cup of wine which she drained almost as quickly as it could be filled.
"Your sister seems unhappy," she remarked with a glance at Stryfe. Although there were many savory foods served including the roasted meat of the creature that Lord Taeron had killed that morning and which Dijana found particularly delicious, Stryfe's plate had only fruits and nuts as well as some cooked roots while he ignored the serving women offering the meat and breads. That was, she noted with interest, another Calabrian habit which he had adopted in common with the prince who was also sneaking something from a pouch. Lord Taeron had been offered a meaty bone from the creature he had killed and was now biting into it with gusto. Dijana wondered what kind of man turned his back on his people's customs with the ease that Lord Taeron had.
"My sister has learned today what it means to be a Calabrian woman," Stryfe told her, drawing her attention back to him.
"I understood that women had more rights under Emperor Trey's rule." The right to walk in public in daylight without being raped was more right than they had prior to his reign.
"They do," he agreed, "but some things will never change. A male child belongs to the sire."
"We have the same custom on Teralon,"she told him. "But on Teralon females are valued more than males." As it should be, she thought with annoyance seeing the males at the feast treating women as if they were there for their pleasure and not to give their lives meaning with the offspring they would give them to ensure the future of their race.
"The males have not done a good job of protecting them. Many females, including yourself, suffered greatly in the Varoonyan occupation after the males fled."
Dijana could not defend the males of her planet. Even before the invasion they had become lax in their duty to protect the females. Avar should never have gone to the imperial court, never would have had he followed custom and chosen female offspring of one of the council members, but since her mother left the court abdicating her rule to her mate, there was no longer any precedent. The result was a land invaded by ruthless creatures from another world and women left unprotected while males cowered in mountain caves.
"They do not have a strong leader," Stryfe mused aloud. "I met with Queen Neria's consort when I was on Teralon. For a man who owed much to the empire, Balak was rather bold. He struck me as a man who uses cunning instead of strength."
"Strength does not always prevail," she commented. Kai had used cunning to manipulate her.
"It did on Teralon," he reminded her. He seemed to regret what he had said because he leaned closer to her. "I am sorry, Sharisse. I did not mean to hurt you with my words."
She did not realize she was crying until he reached up to brush away tears from her cheek with the backs of his fingers. His touch startled her, and her breath caught when his fingers trailed down her neck. "Do you … do you need...?" His deep violet gaze met hers and she knew what he meant. Her insides churned with shame and yet her pulse quickened as she held his gaze, felt his fingers on the back of her neck. But she could not bring herself to respond.
He seemed to understand and rose to his feet. Sliding his fingers to her elbow, he raised her, and she barely heard Prince Amyr demand to know where they were going, a demand to which Stryfe did not respond. There was deafening noise all around, drunken laughter, coarse shouts and Dijana remembered why she hated feasts, always had. Her father held many to invite the strongest warriors in the land and she had at first thought that her father was gathering them for her to choose among them, but any male that tried to approach her had been dismissed. Between her father and her brother, she had been sheltered until Kai had come with Prince Staefyn.
Stryfe led her away from the noise in the great hall and mounted the steps leading to the second floor. "We can go to my brother's room."
Dijana thought she should protest, but the promise of an infusion of his blood coupled with the excitement of being alone with Stryfe was too good to refuse. He seemed to dislike the feast as much as she did, so he quickly put distance between them and the revelers who thinned as they climbed the steps. The wine she drank must have been stronger than she thought because she had not been this reckless since Kai had pulled her into dark shadows and with his flattery made her believe she was desirable.
The room to which he led her was dark but for the glow from the fireplace. Clothing was tossed haphazardly over chairs and on the bed, and he released her to remove the pile of fine garments adorned with beautiful stitching, carelessly tossing the lot over an already overburdened chair.
"The prince could not decide which of my brother's tunics to wear."
Dijana heard the note of annoyance in his voice but she could not respond because the anticipation of tasting him was scrambling her thoughts. He sat on the edge of the bed and drew her down beside him. She was acutely aware that their thighs were touching and the warmth of his body seeped into her own. Now the heat rushing through her had nothing to do with the impending feeding.
"I noticed that you did not look well, Sharisse. I am sorry that I have been preoccupied with my training. You could have come to me."
His deep voice soothed her and she trusted him more than she should. A mere scribe was not for her, and yet she could not imagine sharing what she had already shared with him with any other man. "I … I did not wish to burden you." Dijana did not tell him that she was ashamed of her need.
He reached out to take her hand, clasping it in his big, callused hand. How did a scribe get such callouses? What did he write with? Of course she knew he could handle a sword, and he had been training recently with Lord Taeron, but the callouses on his hands did not seem recent.
"I understand," he said softly and she knew that he did. "What do you wish me to do?"
On Teralon Balak had cut the wrists of the shrieking females brought to Dijana, but Dijana only told Taeron that they had cut their wrists, leaving out the detail of how they had struggled. Kai had often fed from her neck, sinking in his sharp teeth like a rabid dog, forcing her to listen to him suck noisily and more than once he had taken blood from her thigh after he had defiled her. When he left there were bite wounds all over her body as if he was trying to mark her. The wounds had healed and left no scars but she knew that another Varoonyan would still be able to see the marks he had used to claim her, his other thralls would know her to be one of them.
Stryfe left her side for a moment and returned with a dagger that had an ornate hilt set with jewels. "My brother's," he told her when he saw her questioning gaze. "Our father gave it to him after he returned from Mars."
When Dijana had been informed of the treaty with the emperor that had as a stipulation her marriage to Lord Taeron, she had learned all that she could about the warlord. On his father's trip to Mars he had discovered his human offspring and came to accept his Calabrian son thanks to human woman he had brought back to the empire as his mate. Upon returning to Calabria he publicly claimed his son, giving Taeron the dagger he had himself received from the emperor upon making him his imperial guard.
Now Stryfe put the dagger to his wrist, but he paused before making a cut and raised his head to look at her. "I need to do something before we do this."
Before she cold guess his intention, he lowered his head and his lips touched hers. She was shocked that he would want to kiss her before whatever drug that flowed in her body reacted with his blood to make him need her.
His kiss was tentative at first, but when she yielded to him with a sigh of pleasure, he dropped the dagger to the floor and took her head to cradle in his hands. She could scarcely remember to breathe as his lips caressed hers, and when his tongue flicked against her lower lip, she readily opened her mouth to meet it with her own. Kai had seduced her just as artfully when she had been young and eager to believe the handsome Varoonyan desired her. She was wary now, but she did not sense any deception in Stryfe and gave herself up to the pleasure of his kiss.
She lifted her hands to his wrists, but she did not pull his hands away from her. Instead, she slid them up his strong arms and around his neck, drawing closer until she was pressed against his chest. She wanted to meld to him, to become part of him.
A growl came from his throat and he suddenly pushed back from her. "We must not,"he told her, his voice husky. "I will not dishonor you. I should not have kissed you again."
She raised her eyes to his. "I have already been dishonored." More dishonored than he could ever imagine at the hands of the Varoonyan warlord.
He smiled sadly at her. "You have honor in my eyes, Sharisse."
Her eyes watered, but she did not respond as he retrieved the dagger he had discarded earlier. She watched as he made a cut in his wrist without flinching, then he laid back and drew her against him and as he held her with one arm around her, he raised his wrist to her mouth.
With an anguished sob, she closed her lips around the wound he had made and she drew his blood into her mouth. Her body came alive at the taste of him and she felt at first as if she were burning, but after several moments, the burn subsided to an ache of need that she had never felt before as she fed. Not even Kai had made her feel this.
His restless movements against her told Dijana that he felt it too. "By the gods!" His hoarse exclamation eased the embarrassment she felt in drawing from his blood like some creature. When she finished, he was all but writhing, but when she stretched against him and tried to slide her hand down his body, he grasped her wrist to keep her from assuaging the need she had given him.
He brought her hand up to his chest where he held it against his heart, and when she began to cry, knowing that he believed she was unworthy even of a scribe, he gathered her close. As she sobbed against him, Dijana realized that no one had ever held her like this, and yet her heart was broken because she knew that he would never want more from her. In his eyes, she was a creature that he pitied.