Drake of Tanith (Chosen Soul) (2 page)

Raven ran through the pumpkin patch, the orchard, and the forest. She laughed when she picked up a fallen red leaf to find that it was still absolutely perfect. No insect had marred its beauty, no frost had curled its edges. It lay soft as silk against her open palm and when she detected a faint scent, she placed her nose to it and came away with the aroma of cherries.

There was a courtyard here, as there had been for the other lands. Its fountains poured hot chocolate and hot apple cider. It bore a table filled with all of the things she loved to eat – as if it had known she was the only one there to eat them.

When Raven finally returned to the room with four doors, the multi-colored door that had led her there to begin with re-appeared before her eyes. She was tired and happy and slept well that night, all thoughts of Trimontium far, far away.

It happened that way every time. The butterfly garden, the room with four doors, the vast chamber that sported a steaming pool for every color of the rainbow…. Every time Raven considered venturing back into the mortal world, Castle Eidolon tempted her tired, inexplicably drained body and mind into its core with something new.

Now, as Raven stood in the unfamiliar corridor and pondered her situation, she could not quell her mounting sense of unease. She knew in her heart that she couldn’t trust the elves. She knew that Lord Astriel would like nothing more than for her to remain at Eidolon for the remainder of her days.

He’d made that abundantly clear over the last month as he’d repeatedly asked for her hand in marriage.

From the moment they’d met, the prince had pursued her. At first, she surmised that his interest in her had most likely had more to do with pride than anything else. She’d turned him down. He couldn’t have been used to that.

However, since their battle against Cruor, his attentions seemed to have shifted. In the time that Raven had spent at Eidolon, Lord Astriel had looked at her differently… more deeply. As if really seeing her for the first time.

He took each of her marriage proposal rejections in good stride, simply nodding and accepting them until the next time he would ask. When she questioned him – about anything at all – he answered her in tender tones and seemed to hold nothing back. When faced with her queries, for instance, about the existence of such places as the room with four doors, he had chuckled, his blue eyes glittering, and readily explained. Castle Eidolon was the seat of power for all of the fairy realms. As such, the elven royalty hosted guests from Fae worlds across time and space. Some preferred winter. Others, spring. The elves made every effort to accommodate delegates from the other fairy kingdoms, as any political leaders worth their positions would do.

Astriel was quick to engage her in conversation, to introduce her to the other members of the elven court, and to shower her with gifts that made her mind spin, not in their exquisite expense, but in their thoughtfulness: A quill and a leather bound journal for recording her thoughts. A white ribbon that when touched to her raven hair magically braided and curled it in the most intricate and beautiful fashion. A tiny black figurine that was warm to the touch and transformed into a living, breathing puppy at the sound of a single spoken word.

It was as if he knew just what she needed, just what would make her more comfortable or bring a smile to her face.

And yet…. There remained that tickling of a sensation in the back of Raven’s mind. There was something in the blue of the prince’s eyes. In the way he held her hand, gently but firmly. There was a warmth to his touch so quickly followed by a chill, she didn’t know what to make of it. It was as dichotomous and confounding as the castle he ruled from.

And there were the dreams. Always about Tanith.
Always
.

Frustration thrummed through Raven now, hard and sudden. She spun where she stood in the unfamiliar corridor and broke into a run. She sprinted down the lengthy hall, not necessarily caring where it led but only wanting to get
somewhere
for once in her mindless meandering.

She turned the corner at the end of the hall, dashed out onto a landing, shot down a flight of stairs, and turned down yet another corridor.

Raven slowed. This hall sported a thick rug of black instead of red. The sconces lining the walls contained candles of ebony wax, their flames a strange, somber indigo. The light cast eerie shadows on the walls.

Raven watched the dancing figures of light and darkness as she came to a gradual stop. She stood in the middle of the hall and gazed down its length to the giant black doors that waited at one end.

A chill raced down her spine. She clenched her teeth and hugged herself. She rarely got cold; it was the nature of her blood. But here, in this strange hallway, the purple-blue light flickered ominously and the air felt thick with foreboding.

The doors loomed at the end of the corridor.

Raven glanced nervously over her shoulder and then turned back to face the doors once more. She squared her shoulders and took a step toward them. Then another. It seemed the night pressed in on her here. The corridor begged her to turn back. She didn’t belong here. She wasn’t wanted here.

She was trespassing.

But Raven possessed a stubborn streak and, upon that thought, she quickened her steps, ignoring the ill-omened impressions around her. As she drew nearer to the looming black doors, she began to make out the sound of voices. She stilled, cocking her head to one side, listening intently. After a few moments, she continued to creep ever closer on the balls of her feet.

The voices were instantly recognizable. One was Lord Astriel’s, and the other belonged his indomitable father, King Oberon. Raven approached the door, placed her ear against it, and caught part of what they were saying.

“This soon after Cruor’s downfall… it’s too soon. The mortals can’t take so much all at once,” said Astriel.

“You concern yourself too much with their welfare,” Oberon replied coolly. “The Hunt has proceeded every year for thousands of years. Do you think I care that the mortals may not be in the
mood
for it at the moment?” He chuckled and it was a deep, dark sound. “Their petty concerns will not stand in the way of a tradition such as this one, Astriel. And you should –”

“
Wait.”

There was a brief pause and Raven’s stomach did an uncomfortable turn. She backed away from the door, her courage suddenly sucked dry. At once she felt vulnerable. Guilty.

They heard me
, she thought.
They know I’m here.

She continued to back away, still on her tiptoes, not wanting to draw any further attention to herself. But the silence beyond the doors stretched; the prince and king were no longer conversing. The quiet was pregnant with unspoken accusation.

When she’d managed to put several feet between herself and the dark doors, Raven spun on her heel and prepared to run back down the hall.

“Good evening, Raven.”

Raven froze in mid-step. Astriel stood before her in the hall, still dressed in his dark, princely garb, from his black boots to the black and silver tunic of his office. His hands were at his sides, his expression was calm, and his sapphire blue cat-like eyes appeared a shade darker than normal.

Raven felt dizzy, her heart was beating so hard. She met his gaze, though it was difficult, and wondered whether he could hear the rush of her blood through her ears as loudly as she could.

“You’re up late again, princess,” he said as he took a step toward her. Somewhere overhead, thunder rumbled across the night sky. It struck Raven as strange – as wrong. It never stormed in Trimontium. Summer had told her as much when she and Loki had first arrived all those weeks ago.

Astriel’s dark eyes glittered in the eerie light shed by the indigo torches. He took another step toward her and she found herself retreating. The movement did not go unnoticed by the elf prince, who glanced once at her bare feet before catching her gaze once more.

Raven lifted a foot, placed it behind her, and was shocked when it met something solid. She glanced over her shoulder to find that she’d backed herself into a wall that should not have been there.

When she turned back around, Astriel had closed the distance between them. He raised his arms and pressed his hands against the wall on either side of her head. Raven stopped breathing. She was trapped there, in the cage of his arms.

He then leaned in.

She waited, held rapt in the sway of his power, as his exotic pupils expanded hungrily and he drew so near that his next words whispered across her lips. “What haunts you this night, love?” He smiled a knowing smile. “Bad dreams?”

Chapter Two

He smelled good. There was something about the elves that made them always smell nice. The women smelled like flowers or chocolate or fruits. The men always reminded Raven of red-draped chambers filled with leather furniture and massive, four-poster beds. They made her think of long nights, candle light, fire places crackling, and satin sheets. Wine. Power. Wealth.

Blood.

Lord Astriel smelled like dark promises, if such a thing had a scent. And beneath the black leather and royalty elixir that he wore around him was a promise that only someone like Raven could appreciate. The blood that ran through Astriel’s veins was old. She was a devil who needed blood to use her powers. Blood such as Astriel’s was tempting, indeed.

As if he could read her thoughts, the prince’s smile grew broader. His eyes flashed with something secret. “Well, Raven? Was it a nightmare that roused you from sleep this night?” he whispered. His nearness was making her feel strange. She felt weightless and tipsy, as if she’d downed half a mug of ale and was now experiencing the effects.

She swallowed hard, finding her throat rather dry. “Bad dreams?” Raven whispered. She’d meant to simply speak, but her voice seemed to be temporarily missing. She cleared her throat and tried again. “No. Not really bad. Just….” She trailed off, getting lost in the pull of his darkening gaze. What could she say? Something told her she didn’t really want to reveal the fact that she’d been dreaming about Drake of Tanith.

Astriel studied her carefully in what became a rather pregnant silence. She knew full well that he was aware she had been listening in on him and his father. A part of her just wished he would call her on it. If he didn’t, she couldn’t ask him what he had been talking about. She couldn’t ask about The Hunt.

Unexpectedly, Astriel straightened, lowering his arms to take a single step back. He offered her his hand. “Walk with me, princess.”

Raven swallowed hard and dropped her gaze to stare at his offered hand. He had long, graceful fingers. All of the elves did. Suddenly Raven couldn’t help but wonder what those fingers would feel like running through her hair or brushing aside her clothes.

“You’re the reason behind the lag in my powers. It’s you.” Raven’s heart hammered and blood roared in her ears. But she couldn’t stop. “You’ve cast some sort of spell on me. You’re keeping me here… weakening me.” She swallowed hard, nearly coughing as her throat suddenly tried to work past a dry lump. “Aren’t you.”

It wasn’t a question. They both knew that.

Very slowly, Astriel lowered his hand. The black in his eyes swallowed the blue entirely, and Raven released a ragged breath. The air in the corridor grew thick with the threat of magic.

But Raven’s mind was crackling; images were shoving themselves through the fog that had inhabited her brain for the last month. She saw Drake, as always. But she saw others as well. Summer… Lord Malphas. Adonides.

Her brother.

“By Abaddon,” she whispered suddenly, realizing that she hadn’t spoken with Loki in more than thirty moons. She hadn’t even wanted to. To say nothing of her parents.

Her gaze narrowed on the prince now and her jaw clenched, her teeth grinding together. “You bastard,” she hissed, terrified of what the prince would do to her if she lashed out at him, but so angry that she was unable to rationalize her actions. “What have you done?”

“You needed rest,” Astriel told her. There was no inflection to his tone, no indication of emotion on his handsome face. He simply watched her, a cat in the darkness watching its prey.

Raven’s body was shaking. “Like hell!” she cried, moving forward and raising both arms to shove the prince hard in the chest.

*****

Astriel saw the attack coming but did nothing to stop it. He’d known this would happen eventually. It was only a matter of time before Raven’s brother found a way past Astriel’s wards and the magic of the castle.

The Champion of Haledon had tried to reach his sister countless times over the past month. He’d performed scries that Astriel had simply flicked away with no more than a thought. He’d rallied at the castle’s gates and Astriel’s guard had turned him away on threat of death… and worse.

But Haledon was a popular god and Loki had the backing of all of his priests. Astriel had known that eventually the Champion would manage to amass enough power behind his spell to reach his sister.

That was what was happening right now. Astriel could feel Haledon’s presence in the hall. He could feel the magic of the sun god’s acolytes surrounding Raven, clearing her mind of the shroud of confusion Astriel had so painstakingly settled over it.

He’d only hoped he would have more time. He’d hoped he would be able to keep her at the castle long enough to obtain her hand in marriage.

Astriel’s incredibly long existence had always been tainted by the golden hand of ease. Nothing had ever been difficult for him before Raven Grey. She was turning him inside out.

When he’d first set eyes on her, he’d been intrigued. He had to admit to himself now that at the time, his thoughts had been purely selfish. He’d wanted to obtain something he didn’t have and he’d wanted it before anyone else could claim it.