“Yes,” she rasped, then shuddered from being trapped in her deathly vision. “I foresee your death at the hands of a black-haired temptress. She tears your throat out and drinks your blood in rage.”
Fire stirred in Ajali and he suppressed his rage.
The silence in the tent became tense as he acknowledged her predictions. He strode to a great chair and slowly sank into its plush depths, gazing into the ashen face of his high Chancellor Bastien. The tent was starkly furnished with only an oak table in the center with three arm chairs and a pallet for sleep. They had camped on their journey home from the kingdom of Boreas.
The Serangite heaved as the vision released her. As a foreseer, her designation was that of a nyth—the third ring of power. She was not even close to being an imperial, yet he did not doubt her. Too many of Ruxia’s visions had come to pass. Ajali waited for her to compose herself before he spoke. “Dismissed.”
She walked through the opening of the tent and disappeared.
Ajali met the eyes of his high chancellor who leaned against the oak table. “I need to find another way to have unlimited access to the Borean mountains, to their elixir.” Tension climbed higher as the leashed violence in his voice vibrated through the tent.
Bastien grimaced. “Who would have thought that the Princess of Boreas would be the mate of a Darkan? You can no longer claim her as your blood oath queen to gain access to their elixir.”
“It was indeed unexpected. I thought her lover would have been from Caleum, and then I would have had leverage over them, that I could manipulate to my whim. The Darkans are always solitary, hidden in the darkness and shadows. It was indeed surprising.”
“The Princess took the Darkan as her lover in the days she hid in the Darkage.”
“Indeed she did, Bastien,” Ajali said.
“Will you still attempt to take her as your own?”
Ajali chuckled darkly. “I have studied what little I could find on Darkan laws; for taking their mate they would descend on us like the plague of death. The Darkans would incite the next Great War to retrieve their mates.”
Bastien strode to Ajali and clasped his shoulders. “How do we prevent the Serangite’s predictions without having control of the Borean Mountains, sire?”
“We plot and we watch, Bastien. We plot and watch.”
***
Tehdra perched high in a tree on the cliffs of the Fyran Mountains, cocooned in the darkness she summoned. Below her, a convoy flew with great speed; some flew astride massive wraiths while others travelled on the ground on massive four legged beasts. The wraiths flared their wings in powerful arches, their sleek predatory grace mesmerizing. She had never seen the creatures this close before. They only existed at the Nurians’ royal palace.
She had been spying on the nation for days now. She had sought to infiltrate deep, to hide herself amongst the Nurians, and stop all threats against her kingdom—the Darkage. She also had to protect the Nurian king from any Darkan that shadowed his kingdom intending to kill him.
Tehdra’s lips flattened. Let him fall under any other blade except that of a Darkan’s.
She clutched the dagger sheathed in her knee high boot and looked into the sky at the fiery redness of the sun, so powerful it suppressed the malevolence of the demon embedded deep inside her. Tehdra tried to find its essence and frowned. It could not be found.
It was utterly fascinating.
Until this mission she had never been exposed to the sun, always having access to her beast’s powers. It lay beneath her surface like an elusive glimmer of heat.
She peered into the convoy searching the shadows for the presence of Darkans, there were none. Only her eyes followed the convoy on the ground as their Kun crawled past on the narrow cobblestoned cliff ledge. Each rider was dressed in battle armor boasting the royal sigil with a hand comfortably resting on the hilt of their sword. The wraiths screeched, dipped and circled above the warriors, giving their protection from the air.
A snarl hummed low beneath her skin as her beast stretched. A beautifully savage smile curved her lips. A deep red splashed the sky as the sun sank. Rage uncurled inside her, and she shivered as the savagery of her darkness lifted its head.
As the last wraith flew by, her heart lurched. Raw power and magnetism rolled off the man in gentle waves. King Ajali Haddin. He rode the wraith he flew on with majestic grace, with an easy power that impressed her.
His warriors preceded him, confident in the knowledge that he did not need their protection. They returned from Boreas without the Princess. She had felt through their connection that her brother, Drac had somehow already claimed her as mate. Strangely, King Ajali did not seem perturbed at his loss after pursing the Princess so aggressively.
Tehdra flared out her darkness, sinking deeply into his essence, seeking and ferreting. No negativity leaked from him; mayhap they had misconstrued his interest in the Princess of Boreas.
Rage howled beneath the surface of her skin as the sky grew darker, effectively distracting her. She inhaled deeply, her breath hitching at a scent that teased her, making her demon beast stir hungrily. Tehdra held her breath when, with a flex of his thighs, the wraith stopped in midair. The King tipped his head and stared directly into the tree where she perched.
Tehdra held herself absolutely still. Shadows cloaked her form—it was her Shenkiri to wield, to control, it was impossible that he could see her. Heat rushed through her at the startling green of his eyes. The olive darkness of his skin against the color of his eyes was the most appealing combination. .
Her beast shifted and lunged. In the dark mire of shadows the most tantalizing fragrance rode the air to her and as simple as that Tehdra became enraptured. Her chakra pulsed, fangs punched out of her mouth as she looked at the King of Nuria, who could not possibly see her in the shadows, in sheer fascination.
Mine