“If anyone should have declared war it should have been King Ajali of Nuria for yesterday’s attack on his kingdom. What madness has taken hold of Emperor Khan?” Gidon growled, pacing like a caged beast.
“He has lost a key piece in his plot and machinations,” Lachlan said with more calm than he felt, for fury churned in his gut at the threat to his mate.
Everyone stilled, and the floor of the high turret contracted at the wash of power swarmed the air.
“Speak,” Gidon commanded.
As if she had been summoned by his king’s will, the sweet flavor of earth and rain filled Lachlan’s senses. He scented her, and she made no sound as she drew closer. Shilah stepped through the wide terraced window. Everyone on the high balcony stilled, and she hesitated in the face of so many Darkans staring at her.
She made a breath-taking picture in a dark green sari which bared her stomach and hung alluringly low on her rounded hips. Golden slippers encased delicate feet, and her mass of silver-white hair was piled atop her head. Wisps of hair escaped her topknot and framed her lovely features.
His snakes were curled around her upper arms like golden bracelets. She held his gaze, her eyes huge and heart-stoppingly vulnerable. There was a fear in her that he would never let her go, and she would be unable to escape and save her people. He was a dark shadow in her mind, and all negative thoughts rushed along their link, even though she tried to shut him out.
The sparkly depths of her eyes were reflecting so many emotions they took his breath and broke apart something unfathomable inside Lachlan. There was a primal, turbulent need in him to ravish his mate so thoroughly and so completely that she would never hunger to leave his side. He wanted her bound to him for all eternity
There have only been two laws identified which have any impact on a beast’s behavior, and they both pertained to mating. The first law is that the demon mates for life. The second law not recorded anywhere and kept secret by all Darkans, a mate cannot be claimed without their consent. Everything in Lachlan could clamor to bind her to him forever, but if she did not accept his claim, he could not force her. Until she allowed the mating, he had no rights to cage her to his will, and even then, Lachlan knew she would fight any claiming that might override her sense of self. And he didn’t want that. Her beauty was fragile, and she didn’t have the physical prowess of Darkans or even Amagarians, but she had the heart of a warrior. Even if it was mystifyingly weakened by mercy and compassion.
The darkness in him stirred, and violence sang through his blood at the notion of losing her. There would be no light left within him, no reason to feel the warmth tumbling through his chest now, no reason to feel the desperate need to be different…to be gentle.
“And who is this?” Talon murmured, glancing from her to Lachlan.
He felt her mind search; it brushed at him like the wings of a delicate creature. “I heard the sound of a gong. The walls of your chamber shook, and I felt along the thread that connected us that you were close, so I followed it…to here.”
Lachlan knew no one else saw the silver thread that connected their souls. He could reach out a finger and run along the bright silvery white thread with the darkness twisting sinuously over it. The thread led from his chest to hers, and it hummed, a vibration of peace and pleasure as she moved a bit closer to him.
His mate paused, shy a few feet from him, and glanced at his cadre of friends who did not disguise their unabashed curiosity.
“This is Princess Shilah. And it is for her the Empire has declared war.”
Stillness blanketed everyone on the turret, and Lachlan dared not move.
“Why is she valuable to him?” his king demanded, the coldness emanating from him causing Lachlan’s mate to shiver and pale.
“She is Princess Shilah of the house of Symonrah, rightful ruler of the kingdom of Dxyriah of Serange. She is an Imperial telepath with the power to demolish the psychic barrier between man and beast in Darkans. Not only is she able to shatter that barrier, but she is also half of the power needed to force the demon from its host into a corporeal form and place it under the control of the Empire of Mevia. Retrieving her will be the focus of the empire, and only death will come for those who think to hide her from the Empire’s might.”
His mate paled and stumbled back, bitter fear leaking from her. Pain and betrayal rode the wave, and she stared at him with widened eyes.
“What you claim is impossible,” Talon snapped, scrubbing a hand over his face. “The kingmaker has promised a new leader for the Darkage, and that bastard is plotting with the empire to murder Gidon. And for what? So that he can torture our people for the power within us?”
“If the Emperor had Darkans in his army, whom he had absolute control of, his might would be unmatched,” Drac said, his gaze hard and piercing on Princess Shilah, whose anxiety was like a living entity as she fed them with her fear. “I surmise my friend; the princess is the reason you and your demon has merged in a way I’ve never seen in our kingdom. She broke your vow and your mind at the order of the emperor.”
Retribution throbbed in his friend’s voice, and Shilah stepped back a few paces.
“Princess Shilah and the witch Amirah are the ones who directed and pulled the demon beasts that attacked the Kingdom of Nuria from its host.”
The shocked silence was profound.
“Why is she alive?” Drac asked with palpable menace.
Princess Saieke gasped, and Lachlan felt the promise of death leaking from Gidon. His king’s eyes were those of a predator waiting, watching, promising retaliation. He had judged Shilah, found her guilty, and her death was imminent.
Lachlan held out his hand to her. Her mouth trembled as she hurried over to his side, and she placed her hand in his. He carefully gathered his mate in his arms, barely holding onto the rage beating through his soul. It was unexpected and even unsettling, this desire to be gentle with her. She stirred, and he glanced down. How pale she seemed. His princess was so small and delicate, so curved and soft. She was light to his darkness, compassion to his merciless nature. Yet so powerful in her own right.
He breathed in her fragrance, absorbing the feel of her petite, curvy body against him. Nothing had ever felt so right to Lachlan. Despite her light and purity tethering him, violence blossomed through him and his monster twisted across his skin, its eyes snapping open. “Anyone who tries to harm her will only know pain and suffering,” he said, his voice hissing with feral undercurrents.
She tightened her fingers around his. He could hear her heart, the rhythm too loud.
“By t