“It has been more than fifty years since we last heard rumors of the kingmaker,” Gidon said.
“Yes.”
“Assassinating my father could have been on his command.”
“Many do not agree with the ideals your father advocated before his death,” Drac said, scanning the shadows, probing for unusual patterns. Even though they ensconced themselves away, he couldn’t be too careful. “For now, the kingmaker is a rumor…I will unearth the truth of it and the face behind the cowardly murder of our king.”
“All have something to gain from his death, thinking I would be less powerful after ascending,” Gidon growled, thrusting his hand through his midnight hair unraveling it from the thong that held it.
Savagery slithered through Drac, and a smile curled his lips as he anticipated the fight to come. Gidon shared his father’s ideals, which would mean that he would be the next target. If he fell to an assassin’s blade, there would be no heir to take his place. Their kingdom would then have to choose its next leader based on traits it respected—viciousness, cunning, and ruthlessness. The last time a ruler was chosen like that was before the first Great War, a ruler of whom Gidon was a descendant. Gidon was the last of the Al Shra bloodline.
“We will need another enforcer for our cadre,” Drac said.
Gidon had been King Rajliegh’s enforcer, and now that Gidon ascended to his father’s place a fourth was needed. The circle of power and strength needed to be maintained for his protection.
“I have no intention of finding an enforcer to take my place.” Gidon’s tone was menacing as he prowled to the desk, lifting the tablet of the old laws.
Drac glanced at his king sharply. “The elders will object.” He said nothing of the danger it presented. His king would be fully aware.
Gidon hurled the tablet into the wall, shattering the granite stone into dozens of pieces. “I am not my father, as the elders will soon learn. He listened keenly to their insight because of their strength and wisdom, yet our kingdom suffers. We are only seen as a people to be feared and reviled, Drac, and my rule will change all of that. We will change all of it. ”
Gidon stalked around the room, and a hiss escaped Drac as tension spiked from his king, pricking Drac’s skin, tugging at the malevolence buried in him. He sank deeper into the great chair, giving Gidon a moment to subdue his flare of rage.
“I want to know if the kingmaker has risen, and who were my father’s assassins… Hunt and bring them before me,” Gidon said with a calm that belied the fury pouring from him in waves. He stepped into the shadows and vanished from the room.
“It is done,” Drac rasped into the silence.
He was Gidon’s first enforcer, and his king trusted in Drac’s skills to act on his orders without hesitation. Drac would not fail him. Echoes of cries and pain slunk through his mind, and he slammed the shutters down with ruthless will. The wails of past failures would not haunt him today, and he would give his life to ensure Gidon did not fall.
Drac stepped into the shadows and moved with the darkness to uncoil into the grand hall of the castle. He needed to return to his Keep immediately. His sister and lieutenant, Tehdra, was investigating who had thought they could betray their king and live. He needed to be at the helm in the hunt for the betrayers.
Many of his people did not want an organized nation with provinces, councilors, and elders. They did not want to emulate other kingdoms’ ways, preferring to thrive on brutality and slaughter, desiring that the only commodity the Darkage should trade was their skill as shadow assassins. Gidon would have to rule without mercy to stand against those who wished to keep the Darkans in economic and political darkness.
Drac would protect the vision they were all fighting for with his last breath. Their Queen Sora had forfeited her life for the ideal they had of their kingdom. As had their king. Years ago Drac had been reduced to a snarling animal when he’d fought to save his brother Vlad and his mate, Gidon’s sisters, and they had still fallen. Blood and tears had poured from Drac while he’d fought to protect King Rajliegh, and yet he had perished. Gidon would not fall while he lived, Drac vowed.
Yesss let us kill.
His beast’s voice, familiar and insidious, slithered through his mind. Drac was in agreement. No mercy. No forgiveness. He would bring only death to those who thought they could threaten the life of his king and jeopardize the rise of their kingdom from the dark times they had suffered through.
Chapter Two
Taryllion—near the northern border of the Darkage
“Kill them and take the Princess.” The words from the enemy were brutal and decisive.
Refusing to bow to fear, Saieke harnessed her chakra, drew the wind to her with strength, and lashed power at her attacker. Sharp winds sliced from her hands cutting him deep, spewing blood. A force slammed into her from behind, propelling her several feet into the air. She twisted, using the power of her wind to softly land, then spun and sank into a crouch with her daggers in hand, the wind swirling around her.
Kamu scanned each attacker, probing for an opening. “You cannot be taken by any kingdom. Employ any means to flee from their clutches, even if it means using your keni.”
Her stomach clenched at the thought of the situation escalating to where she would need to use such a power. She was one of the few people in her kingdom that controlled two Shenkiri, manipulating both water and wind. With the combination of the two elements, she possessed a far too destructive bloodline power. “I will do all in my power to not be taken,” she assured.
Thyon and Kamu blurred, flashing toward the attackers, slashing their daggers with deadly precision. One of the assassins swept under Kamu’s flank and barreled toward her. She dove, rolling away from him, slicing cutting winds from her hands. Blood sprayed, slapping her cheeks from the multitude of cuts that appeared on his face.
“Why does Mevia hunt me?” she demanded from her crouch.
She thought it would have been Nurian assassins they fought, but they had been attacked by two warriors from the kingdom of sound. No one should have been privy to the information that she fled Boreas, and the implications left her cold. Spies haunted her kingdom.
For the first time, she got a caric