Born of Defiance (27 page)

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Authors: Sherrilyn Kenyon

BOOK: Born of Defiance
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A laughing roar of approval went through the other prisoners.

“What about you?” Talyn stood and pulled on his jacket.

“I accidentally met Merrell Anatole's gaze while I was fixing his bathroom sink.”

Before Talyn could say anything else, the monitor over their heads came on to show the face of a palace guard. His stare went straight to Talyn.

“I just received word from Commander ezul Nykyrian himself. Any prisoner or prisoners who defeat or kill Talyn Batur will be instantly released.”

Talyn's stomach hit the dirt as he heard those words. Words that sucked out every bit of camaraderie from his fellow inmates. He looked to Maren, who gave him a sad smile.

“Sorry, champ. We'd kill our own mothers to get out of here.”

Talyn cursed as he mentally calculated the number of males around him.

It was bad. But not as bad as the number of males he knew were here beyond them that he couldn't see.

So this is how I die.

Just like he'd lived every day since he'd been forced out of his mother's womb.

Fighting with everything he had.

 

C
HAPTER
13

“Lena? Is something wrong?”

Galene blinked at the tizirah's unexpected question. She'd thought Cairistiona was still sleeping. But she was awake in bed and frowning at her.

“Forgive me, Highness. I didn't hear what you asked.”

“You look upset and worried. Is something wrong?”

She smiled at the tizirah and shook her head as she slid her link back into her uniform pocket. “I'm fine.”

“Don't lie to me. We're alone, and you're the only friend I have. The only one who believes that my baby is still alive.” Cairistiona held her hand out toward Galene.

Taking it, Galene allowed Cairie to pull her down beside her. The tizirah laced fingers with her and sighed before she closed her eyes.

Unsure if the tizirah was lucid or not, Galene bit her lip as she saw her future. Cairistiona had been one of the most capable military commanders in Andarion history. Fierce. Confident.

Against tradition, Cairistiona had boldly and defiantly taken a human tiziran as her lover. Because Aros was an heir to an empire every bit as powerful and vast as theirs, Cairie had known from the beginning that they could never marry. Even so, she'd birthed twins for the man she loved.

Two boys.

Ironically, the twin who was named for his human father—Jullien—had looked the most Andarion, and her son who'd appeared the most human had been named for Cairie's father's paternal lineage, Nykyrian. Pictures of both boys hung all over the walls of her bedroom. But it was Nykyrian's photo the princess slept with. His stuffed toy that she kept in her bed with her at all times.

Against every reason, Cairie swore he was still alive. Even though his body had been identified and buried. She refused to believe it.

Maybe it was easier that way.

“Aros called last night,” Cairie whispered. “Did I tell you that?”

“No, Highness.”

Aros Jullien Triosan was the human father of Cairie's sons. He'd tried to marry her many times over the years, but neither Cairie's mother nor his government would approve the alliance. His government out of fear of an insane Andarion female sitting on one of their thrones, and the Andarion tadara out of fear that Cairie would wake from her stupor and take the throne that was her birthright.

The tizirah clutched Galene's hand tighter. “He's being pressed by his senate to name another heir. The humans don't trust my Jullien.” She opened her eyes to look up at Galene. “Do you trust him?”

“He's a fine boy, Highness.”

She laughed. “You're lying. I'm not asking the military commander for her opinion. I want to hear from my friend who played with him when he was a boy.”

Galene glanced around the room. In truth, she hated Jullien and always had. Obnoxious and cruel, he had relentlessly picked on her when she'd been a girl. It was why she'd spent her time at the palace with Tahrs Nykyrian. He'd been a sweet, quiet boy who reminded her a lot of Talyn.

But that was something she could never tell the tizirah who'd birthed them. “Your friend is afraid that we're not alone here and she doesn't want to see you drugged more.”

Cairie nodded and blinked slowly. “They're afraid of me.”

“Who?”

“My mother. She's afraid I'll depose her. It's why she drugs me. But I don't want the throne that makes my family so vicious. It killed all my brothers and sisters. Except for Tylie, who doesn't want it either.” Cairie pulled Nykyrian's toy to her chest. “Why are you so sad, Lena?”

“I haven't heard from my son.”

Cairie gasped. “Where is he?”

“With yours.”

She relaxed instantly. “Then he's fine. Jullien knows to take care of what I love, and I love you. I always have. Therefore I love your son, too.”

“And I love you, Highness.”

Smiling, Cairie snuggled closer to the toy. “I shall call Jullien tonight and tell him to have your Talyn contact you.”

“Thank you, Highness. I would be forever grateful.”

Cairie lifted her head and listened. “Nykyrian?” she called. “Is that you,
keramon
?” She started to leave the bed, but Galene caught her.

“Highness, you're too sick to walk.” Actually, she was too drugged for it. The nurse had only left a short time ago. Every four hours, Cairie was given a shot “for her health.”

It was sickening what the tadara did to her own daughter to keep her complacent. But there was nothing Galene could do to stop it.

She'd tried once and had lost her rank as a result. She would have lost her post and life as well, but Tylie had stepped in and prevented it. Because Galene had once been Nykyrian's playmate, she was the only one who could manage Cairistiona. The tizirah thought of her as a strange cross between cherished daughter and beloved friend.

Galene hummed to her while she tucked the covers around Cairie's body. She still remembered the first time she'd seen the tizirah. It was one of her earliest memories. Cairie had been pregnant. Dressed in her sharp military uniform, the tizirah had been breathtakingly beautiful.

Because her immediate family was mostly medical, Galene had never seen a female officer before. She'd been completely awestruck.

“Can I touch your blaster?”

Galene's father, the royal physician who'd been overseeing Cairie's pregnancy, had been horrified. “Forgive my daughter, Highness. She's never seen a royal family member out of imperial robes before. She doesn't realize who you are.”

Placing her hand against her stomach that was just beginning to round out, Cairie had smiled and knelt down by Galene's side. “Would you like to touch it?”

Galene had looked nervously to her father, then nodded.

Cairie unholstered her blaster and ejected the blast cartridge before she handed it over to Galene to hold. “Be careful, little one. The moving parts can still pinch your skin. And as small as your fingers are, they might eat one.”

“Really?”

The tizirah had nodded.

And still Galene had carefully examined the blaster.

“Aren't you afraid of it?”

Galene had shaken her head. “It's very lovely, Highness. Like you.”

“How old are you, Galene?”

“Three and almost a little more.”

She'd smiled warmly. “After my babies are born, you'll have to come back with your father and help me watch over them.”

It was a promise Cairistiona had kept. Those days had been some of the happiest of Galene's life.

Even after her boys had been born, Cairistiona had spoiled Galene. Until the day Nykyrian had died. The tizirah's descent into madness had come fast and furious. She'd refused to listen to anyone.

To keep Cairie from searching for her dead son, the tadara had ordered her sedated immediately.

She'd been sedated ever since.

Because Galene had been close to Nykyrian, her father had feared what the tizirah might do to her in her grief, and so she'd been banned from visiting the palace. Years had gone by before she'd been allowed back. And in a strange twist, she'd been the one in the uniform and Cairistiona had been the one dependent on Galene's kindness.

On Galene's visit to the palace for an assembly, Cairie had seen her among the Royal Guard. Even drugged, Cairie had recognized her immediately and grabbed her for a hug.

Arm in arm, she'd pulled Galene aside and asked her how Nykyrian was. When they'd tried to separate them, Cairie had become so uncontrollable that she'd been shot with a stunner and Galene had been sent back to her base.

Terrified of being reassigned and stripped of her rank, Galene had been shocked when, hours later, Tylie had shown up and told her that she would be Cairie's personal guard. That her sister had demanded it and refused to let another guard near her.

They'd been inseparable friends ever since.

Cairie reached into her nightstand and pulled out a drawing that she handed to Galene. “Do you remember when your Talyn gave that to me?”

Tears gathered in her eyes as she saw the drawing of her and Talyn together, waving at the tizirah and her boys. He'd been barely seven when he'd brought it to Cairie, the first time he met her. “I do. I'm surprised you kept it.”

Cairie took her hand and held it in both of hers. “You have a good boy, Lena. I will make sure you keep your baby with you. Mothers should never be away from their children.”

*   *   *

Stunned and infuriated, Merrell showed Jullien and Chrisen the footage from the pit where they'd dumped Batur. Bodies were strewn about like the killing fields left behind after a vicious battle.

His breathing ragged, Talyn, alone, stood.

Barely.

Though he was wobbly, he was on his feet while the rest were either dead, unconscious, or begging for help as they tried to crawl away from Talyn's reach. In all the years of military service, Merrell had never seen anything like this. It terrified him just how easily Batur had plowed through dozens of ruthless killers and predators. The most vicious criminals Andaria had.

Batur wiped at the blood on his face as he moved to stand in front of the camera to glare at them. When he spoke, it was a raw, feral growl that was even more terrifying than his reckless stance that dared them to come after him. It was also the words that had been spoken by the male who had founded Batur's paternal lineage almost four thousand years ago at the beginning of Andarion civilization. “A Hauk is not a politician. There is no room in our hearts to sit in peace with those who would do any Andarion harm. We are, and will forever be, protectors of our brethren, family, and homeworld. So long as a single War Hauk lives, no nation will defeat us. No race will dare to invade our air, lands, or sea. We will stand and we will defend. For we are not bred of mercy and we are not bred for peace.

“We are born of fury.

“Forever fear the Warring Blood Clan of Hauk.” Talyn spat blood on the ground. “But most of all, you better fear
me,
you quivering quims! For every drop of War Hauk blood flowing in my veins, I am of the Winged Blood Clan of Batur and we are born of defiance. When I get out of here, and I will, I'm coming for
you
. And no one will be able to save any of your putrid lives from my vengeance.”

Chrisen gasped. “We are in deep Andarion shite.”

Jullien rolled his eyes. “You think? Saint Zaran, why didn't you tell us what he was capable of?”

Chrisen choked as he watched Talyn sit down to tend his wounds. “I had no idea he could do
this
. He's always been subservient.”

“No,” Merrell said between clenched teeth. “He was a conscientious soldier, taking orders from his CO. And a vicious Ring champion. Our mistake was to forget all that in our arrogance.” He looked from his brother to Jullien. “We can't control him. He is the only fucking War Hauk of his generation, with all the insane skill and strength that goes with that untainted bloodline.”

Jullien lifted his chin. “We're still tizirani. And I
am
tahrs.”

Merrell gestured at the bodies scattered around Talyn, who sat with a terrifying calmness. “Yeah, that so stopped him. You're lucky he didn't make it to you before your guards stunned him unconscious.”

Chrisen let out a heavy sigh. “As much as it pains me to say this, should we offer him a deal?”

Shaking his head, Merrell stared at the fallen bodies surrounding Talyn. “It's too late for that. He'll be gunning for us from now on … like Fain and Keris, back in the day. We have to get rid of him the same way we got rid of them.”

“It's not that easy.” Jullien curled his lip. “Galene Batur hates me—she always has, and my mother loves and adores that
minsid
bitch for some reason. While my mom might be bat-shit crazy, she is the favored daughter of our tadara and Tylie pets her like a psychotic child. Even nuts, she still holds a lot of pull.” Jullien kicked the chair he'd been sitting in across the room. “Not to mention, if my mother
ever
comes to her senses, she's going to ask questions none of us want to answer.”

“We could kill her, too.”

Jullien backhanded Chrisen. “She's my mother! I'd kill
yours
first.”

“Stop it!” Merrell snarled. “We have a problem here. How do we fix it?”

“I can buy us time with Galene.” Chrisen narrowed his gaze on Jullien. “If you're off-planet, she'll assume her son is with you. Can't you stay with your paka for a while?”

“Yeah. Why? What are you thinking?”

Merrell licked his lips as he caught his brother's line of reasoning. “We dump him where no one can find him.”

Jullien wasn't sure about that. “Where?”

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