Dragons Against Them (Kingdoms of Fire and Ice Book 2) (17 page)

A
ddie stared
out a broken window as the pink of dawn filtered through the surrounding wilderness, trying to find her inner calm. A wasted effort, as she was about to endure a barbaric ritual unheard of in the modern world. At least, unheard of in the civilized modern world.

Too bad that wasn’t where she lived anymore.

She heard the men talking in low voices across the room, Zayne apparently no longer asleep. Addie had tried to keep her distance from him this last hour or so, allowing him as much rest as possible. But Haelan had grown impatient and insisted her betrothed be awakened so they could “get on with it.”

Berinon, peculiar as he was, she liked.

Forath’s high wizard? Not so much.

The tall, raven-haired man had glowered at them from the moment of his arrival, his midnight blue robe whispering along the floor as he paced about. And though his frequent arm gestures momentarily revealed pale arms that looked no stronger than twigs, the bulk of his power seemed to reside in his glare. Twice now he had silenced both Tristan and Quinn in their questioning with a single look. He had little patience for any of them, and not a stitch of empathy to their situation. It was rare for Addie to dislike anyone she had just met, but this guy took the cake.

“Adelaide.”

She jumped at Zayne’s voice so close to her ear and spun to face him. The shadows beneath his eyes were lighter today, thanks to Haelan’s potion from last night. But a weakness still shone in his posture, the scars still an angry red across his chest. Scars that she would soon help disappear with their healing, if she could ever get past the urge to run screaming from the building.

“You’re awake.” She grimaced at the voicing of her brilliant observation
.
“It’s, uh, good to see you upright again.”

“Aye, and good to be upright once again.”

“How do you feel?” She cupped his chin. Like a cat, he leaned into her touch with closed eyes, then raised a hand to cover hers.

“A bit stiff and sore, but bucksamill better.”

“Bucks-a-mill?”

His eyes reopened, their topaz depths shining below furrowed brows. “Is that not the phrase you used after recovering from our first celebration with my men at Godfrey Manor? Bucksamill?”

“Bucksamill, bucksamill… Oh—feeling like a
million bucks
.” She laughed, his mispronunciation bringing much-needed levity to her morning. “Close, but no cigar.”

His right brow arched, and she knew she’d lost him again. Addie stretched onto her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“And what of you?”

She lowered onto her heels and stepped away, avoiding the look of concern that now tinted his gaze. “I’m fine. Great. Super.”

Super? Why not just wave a neon pink sign over your head that says in big bold letters, “I’M A PATHETIC WIMP”?

“No one will think poorly of you if you wish to forego the bonding, my lady.”

“I’m not backing out of this.”

“Addie.”

She held a hand up. “Really, it’s no big deal. Just some words, maybe a little incense, a big old gash in my hand—what’s there to want to back out of?”

“Adelaide.”

She sighed. He’d used the future-king tone, which meant it was pointless for her to bullshit him any longer. Addie looked down and ran a thumb over her left palm.

“Okay, so maybe I’m a little nervous about the whole thing. And the blood. I’ve never been good around blood. Ask Emeline—she got to see firsthand how I react to flesh wounds that first day at Godfrey Manor.”

“I do recall her mentioning something about your less than desirable intestinal fortitude in the past. Though, that was before she came to accept you as one of our own.”

Addie met his gaze. “But what if I pass out again? Embarrass you in front of the others?”

“My sweet, sweet Adelaide. When will you come to understand I care not what anyone thinks of you or me? Only that you are happy and safe.” He drew her closer and tucked her loose hair behind one ear. “You have no idea the guilt I bear for putting you in a position such as this. Even now I feel compelled to torch the others for suggesting this method of healing. If you chose to forego the enchantment, I would think no less of you.”

“But I want you to get better. To keep you safe. To keep all of us safe.”

She stared into his eyes, wishing, hoping he would say there was another way. That she didn’t have to endure the pain and bleed all over the place to get what she wanted. But of course there was no other way, and his lips did not move.

Addie looked at his chest, at the jagged stripes left by her father’s attack, and gave herself a mental smack. He had already endured so much more. Unimaginable pain in each of the lashes inflicted upon him. Because of her.

Guilt tried its damnedest in that moment to swallow her whole, but she fought it with reason. Because while his past pain she could do nothing about, she did have some control over his future. No way was she going to stand here and allow him to hurt any longer.

Addie turned from him and looked to Haelan, who, she now noticed, stood a short distance off watching them with keen interest. “Let’s do this.”

* * *

T
hough he’d never actually thought
of what his wedding might look like, this certainly would not have been the image. Zayne, standing pressed against Addie before a crumbling, war-battered altar. It felt surreal. And while this wasn’t to be their true matrimony, once they were partially bonded, there was no going back.

A rush of excitement rippled through his weary body, not just at the prospect of a full recovery from the lingering pains of yesterday’s torture, but also for what he and Adelaide were about to do together. To bind with a mate was his people’s highest honor, an act that pledged loyalty, trust, and eternal commitment. It pained him not to have his mother here to witness the occasion, but he made a silent vow to safely retrieve Rosalind so that Queen Helena could indeed be present at their actual wedding.

Tristan stepped forward, acting in place of Addie’s male elder. He raised Zayne’s and Adelaide’s intertwined left hands to be level with their hearts, then bound their wrists with a swath of white cloth. The ceremonial cloth served as both a symbol of the purity in their hearts and to prevent either from pulling away once the bonding began. Tristan placed a chaste kiss to his twin’s cheek, and Zayne’s gaze was drawn again to Addie’s, a look of determination in her eyes. He knew not what had transpired within to cause her earlier shift from worry to conviction, only that it had finally come. Selfishly, he had not attempted to sway her from the decision.

The look she gave him now advised him not to bother trying either.

Heavens, how he loved this woman. Edana would gladly receive a woman of such bravery and compassion as its queen one day, just as he would gladly receive her as his true mate and wife. He slid his right hand tighter around her trim waist, and she did the same to him.

Haelan stepped forward, dark blue eyes glowing beneath the drawn hood of his robe.

“What we shall bind today, let no one attempt to sever.”

Thus ended the traditional matrimonial litany, which Zayne found to be both a surprise and a bit of a relief. He hated to rob Adelaide of their true wedding ceremony, or his family. Haelan’s voice took on a high and musical tone as he began his enchantment, walking in slow circles around them and uttering words no one but he understood. Addie’s gaze had locked with Zayne’s, still shining with determination though her palm against his began to sweat. He offered her a smile, but her returning one was thin-lipped and did not quite reach her eyes.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“You’d better,” she replied, a full smile ghosting to her lips. “And I love you too.”

The hum of Haelan’s enchantment began to soothe, washing away the apprehension he felt on Addie’s behalf. Her lids grew heavier, the spell clearly having the same effect upon her. He was ready for this next step in life. To be a husband, a mate, and, one day, a father. Did she feel the same way?

Zayne’s vision began to blur as the enchantment’s trance wove a numbing cocoon around them. Slowly, color faded to nothing but white. Haelan’s melodic chants and Addie’s hand clasped in his were all he could sense, all he could feel. It was as if they were floating, untethered to the earth. Suddenly, even Addie was gone. A chill washed over his palm, followed by a flash of fire.

He arched back, a guttural howl bursting from his lips. The fire tore up his arm, into his chest, out into each of his limbs. Unfamiliar images came at him in quick succession, of places and events he’d never before seen. He tried to look beyond them, reaching, reaching for Adelaide. He called to her, begged that she return to him, but she was gone.

The images spun by faster and faster, becoming a blur as they filled Zayne’s mind to bursting. A glow began to burn behind the images, building to the point of nearly blinding. Through squinted eyes he saw a single image, far off but steadily drawing closer.

It was Adelaide, standing in a flowing white sheath. She stopped before him, her crystalline eyes lit by an internal flame, and leaned forward to offer him a kiss. But as their parted lips met, his lungs filled with the coldest of air.

And then there was nothing.

Q
ueen Helena paced
in her chambers, fretting over both Zayne’s extended absence and silence, as he had neither sent a response to her last scroll nor returned home. Though he often did his best to ignore requests issued by his father, their son rarely disobeyed her—a fact that brought Robert much ire. This night she gained a better understanding of the king’s past frustrations, for if this was but another act of rebellion, her son’s timing was quite poor.

“Is everything all right, Your Majesty?”

Helena paused to offer her handmaiden a forced smile. “Of course, Thomasina. Missing my Zayne, that is all. Tell me, have any scrolls arrived this morning?”

“No, Your Majesty.”

“Do please check the scroll room again, will you?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

The mouse of a girl turned with a sigh and left Helena to her thoughts once more. Perhaps Zayne’s extended absence was not the result of disobedience but for lack of knowledge. Could the scroll have not yet reached him?

She considered sending another or riding to Forath herself to ensure his safety. But no, her sister had warned her not to leave the castle. As had Berinon. Helena’s gaze shifted to the gray skies outside. Was a battle already underway in Forath? Had Zayne and dear Adelaide been trapped in the midst of it all?

A knock interrupted her fretting. Thomasina, returned from her latest task.

“Any word?”

“No, my queen.”

Helena resumed her pacing. Two warnings not to leave the castle. One which foretold of battles and prophecies that could not be stopped, the other of falsehoods that might be spoken.

Perhaps the warnings implied she could not leave alone. But if she were to travel with another, one who could ensure her safety above all else, would the warnings remain? And was she willing to request such help, knowing the cost this time might far exceed the price of the last?

The queen closed her eyes and prayed for strength. For what she was about to do would assuredly unleash the king’s wrath upon her. But she had to know their son was safe and yet alive.

“Fetch me a parchment and quill, Thomasina. I wish to pen a new message.”

T
ristan glanced
toward the nearby sleeping couple from his perch upon a dusty pew, his sister’s alabaster face tucked possessively into Zayne’s warm chest. Her betrothed radiated with newfound energy upon their partial bonding. But Adelaide…

He shook his head and looked away. Addie had gone limp at the end of the ritual, losing consciousness and turning white as a ghost. Tristan tried not to think of the blood streaming from the gash in her palm inflicted by the ceremonial blade. Or how it had pooled on the floor beneath her arm, flowing faster than that issuing from Zayne’s mirrored cut.

Too much. She’d lost too much.

“Have faith, son of Jarin. Your sister shall live.”

Tristan threw a speculative look at Haelan, who stood a short distance from the others—as he had since his arrival. “And yet she looks pale as a specter hours after your ritual.”

“Do you not think your father would have my head if I took the life of his beloved daughter, boy?”

“Aye. Though what is to say he shall not already seek your demise for what has transpired here this day?”

Haelan’s eyes narrowed. “If he gains no knowledge of these events, we shall both live to see another day.”

“If she soon returns to her former self as promised, my word shall remain true.”

“I made no promise to return the princess to her former self.” A devious grin tugged at the man’s lips. “Only that she would indeed recover.”

With a growl, Tristan sprang from the pew, ready to choke the very life from their dark wizard. Quinn’s hands were quick to lock onto him, though, and slam him back to his seat.

“Ignore the wizard—he goads you, sire.”

“Aye, save your strength, boy,” said Brom. “We shall need it for the flight to Weston.”

Tristan shook free of Quinn’s grip and turned away. Damn them both. Neither understood the helplessness that plagued him today. Of his concern for the missing sister he knew so well and worry for the twin he hardly knew but who lay fading from life but a few paces away. For their father, consumed by a paranoia which seemed to grow with each passing day.

Tristan’s breaths began to come fast and shallow. He gripped his head in his hands, trying to slow his pounding heart, his breathing. Was there nothing he could do to help them in this moment? Nothing he held power over?

No, now was not the time to fall apart. Adelaide had offered kind words of encouragement to him the prior evening. If he was to one day assume his father’s throne, then a leader he must become today. And strong leaders did not crumble under pressure.

If only they could reach Rosalind before their father and his troops, a bloodbath might be avoided. Haelan had predicted Zayne would fully recover by twilight. If Addie did not worsen and his father neither found them or stormed Weston first, they could well set out this very night and have his family restored by morning. He turned to face his warrior friend once more.

“Quinn—have you continued to track the number of flights taken by my father’s sentries to the west?”

“Aye, my lord. The next group should take wing within the hour.”

“Good.” Tristan stood and cast one last glance at his sister, her skin still far too pale. “Join me outside. We shall watch for the next group to make their pass. For as long as the sentries keep to their schedules, we will know my father’s plans have not changed.”

“And if they do not pass this way?” asked Haelan.

Tristan frowned. “Then we wake Prince Zayne and take wing without allowing him time to fully heal. For our window of time to prevent war will have been shortened. Significantly.”