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Authors: Mel Teshco

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Vasilous pulled hard on the reins, his stallion throwing
back its head, eyes wild, as the horrid man drew beside Raffia. “We all know
what she is,” Vasilous barked out furiously, “we’d recognize her anywhere.”

Raffia nodded. “We’ve been hunting her for years. Tortured
many a
larakyte
to glean information so as to snare ourselves their
elusive and much loved princess. But here she is, daring to walk amongst us.”

The bastards had been torturing her people too? Wasn’t
murder enough? She closed her eyes, sickened. She’d known of a few who’d
disappeared but assumed they’d fallen victim to
Scantia
forest’s many
wild animals.

Her eyes flew open as Judas’ hand stiffened in hers. He
plainly had more personal concerns. He might have known she was a shifter but
he’d been unaware of her title.

He didn’t turn and face her, didn’t acknowledge his
ignorance. Instead he waited, never taking his eyes from the men. His men,
soldiers who’d once been loyal to their king.

Vasilous’ grin was dangerous. “It’s made our mission to rid
the world of the
larakyte
freaks so much easier. No more hunting in the
damn forest, no more traveling on horseback with the slim hope one of the
shifters will give in and tell us her location.”

Raffia turned to Vasilous, exchanging a self-satisfied look.
Then he twisted in his saddle and motioned to his soldiers. “Get her.”

Judas stepped back, pushing her behind him. His body was
braced, readying for attack. “Shift,” he said under his breath. “And run. It’s
your only chance.” She paused, her mind balking at the idea of leaving him. Of
not putting up a fight. Then he turned to her, his eyes hard, ruthless as he
ordered, “Now!”

She pivoted, sprinting away. Fear pulsed through her, but it
was all for him.

Even knowing her every lie—Judas cared for her—more than
cared.

The beast roared within and she welcomed it, embraced it.
She had to lead the soldiers away from Judas.

The change came on fast, but not fast enough. And as she
forced her bones into an immediate shift, she knew she’d pay for the privilege
later. Big time.

When a shifter compelled the body to change too quickly,
adrenaline, endorphins and a whole load of chemicals that were unique to a
shifter, ensured the immediate suffering was kept at bay. But in an hour at
best, the pain would attack her body, overwhelming, frightening.

Possibly even fatal.

It was a risk she had to take if she had even half a chance
of survival. She had to live. For her people. For Judas.

Her big, silver paws hit the sand running while her panther
ears swiveled back, taking in the sounds of the horses surging into a gallop
close behind.

“Angel, hurry!”

Her ears flattened to her skull at Judas’ desperate shout.
He needn’t worry, she was tough. She was a survivor.

And no pain in the world could touch the love for him that
burned bright within.

She surged up the slight incline with her paw pads skimming
over the sand. The horses easily kept pace. She snarled, increasing speed and
all the while aware the mounts were war horses, trained for endurance as much
as speed.

She needed to conserve her energy. Except only a few miles
ahead the blunt, pyramid shapes of the dunes reared from the flat, seemingly
endless desert as though a mirage shimmering bright under a relentless sun.

She tore toward it, panting for breath as the galloping beat
of horses drew closer still. She wouldn’t look back, wouldn’t waiver in her
goal to reach those dunes. She had to focus, to believe she’d make it.

Or she was doomed.

She was only grateful the soldiers didn’t arm themselves
with bows and arrows like the
larakyte
guards did when they were in
human form. She wouldn’t have had a chance.

The lead horse was breathing heavily through its nostrils
behind her, struggling to keep up. Even so its rider flogged it faster so as
not to let her gain any ground. Akeisha let out another snarl. The cruel rider
had to be Vasilous.

When she finally set paws on the first dune, her muscles
were screaming, lungs burning and heart leaping in her chest.

A horse grunted in distress behind her, then another as they
plowed through the hock-deep sand.

The soldiers wouldn’t continue the chase. It would be
madness.

At the top of the dune she turned back, panting. Vasilous
rained curses on his mount, his face a mottled purple as the horse struggled to
extract itself from the sand. When the beast finally clambered free, its
trembling legs gave way. The horse toppled to its side. Bones snapped and
Vasilous screamed for help, trapped beneath his mount.

She spared the bastard no pity. Karma was a wonderful thing.

Raffia sat easily on his sweat-lathered horse, oblivious to the
chaos nearby. Instead, his eyes burned with hatred as he stared at her staring
back at him. She flicked her tail in disdain and turned away, lifting her face
into the heat.

Glorious, open spaces. Freedom.

She’d never take it for granted again.

In a sudden burst of speed, she ran down the other side of
the dune and up the next, her paw pads barely touching the baking hot sand as
she gloried in her escape.

The sense of victory didn’t last long. She had to turn back,
to see for herself if Judas was okay.

She’d already covered countless miles, her throat parched
and her legs wobbling with exhaustion when she slowed and then stopped. Dunes
surrounded her like an infinite sea of waves. A slight breeze picked up and
swirled the sand.

Oh, hell.

Often the cooling afternoon brought with it a wind that
re-dispersed the top layer of sand, enough to cover her scent, her trail. Even
her amazing cat senses wouldn’t be able to pinpoint which direction she’d come
from, let alone where to find Judas.

She took a deep breath—but her lungs stalled as the pain of
her earlier shift suddenly struck.

She collapsed onto the sand, moaning low in her throat as a
fiery tide burned through her body, torturing her from the inside out. She’d
heard stories of the unbearable suffering her kind went through after they’d
had no choice but to forcefully shift.

She gasped in some air. She’d had no clue how bad it could
really get.

None.

Her eyes squeezed closed at the hapless, involuntary shift
back into human that was the body’s self-defense mechanism. With each change,
not only did cells regenerate and heal, but as human, she’d be more able to
take care of her own injuries, more able to seek help.

If only she could tell her body that being human out here,
with nothing but sand dunes, was not in her best interest.

The pain of shifting back into human was nothing in
comparison to the burning concentration within, heat waves that surged one
after the other until it intensified into a cataclysmic agony that left her
writhing in the sand, panther now human.

She wanted to scream, to find something…anything, to end her
suffering. But in this barren wasteland the worst she could do was bury her
head in the sand until she suffocated. And that required energy she didn’t
have.

The torment had weakened her beyond the point of mobility.

Ironic really, to die out here, in the open spaces. If the
pain didn’t kill her, thirst or tomorrow’s intense heat burning her naked body,
would.

Judas, I’m so sorry. So very, very sorry
.

She swallowed. She couldn’t give up. Judas may be in
trouble. Judas may need her help. And her people…her people counted on her.

Gritting her teeth and using her last ounce of strength, she
sat, fighting a torrent of dizziness so as to not collapse right back on the
sand.

And that was when she realized she wasn’t alone. Through her
fog of pain she sensed someone close in; saw a flash of black on the dunes
farther away, as though velvet on snow.

Then another wave of intense heat gripped her in its fangs,
a seizure of untold agony that left her fighting just to stay conscious, let
alone sitting upright. But somehow she did.

Another streak of black, like a shadow running low to the
ground. A panther? She closed her eyes, too weak to consider the possibility.
No shifter would be out in the desert, and certainly not one of the
non-shifting panther varieties that were easily distinguished by their
black-as-coal coloring.

Unless…

She forced open her eyes and squinted, trying to focus
before the next unbearable wave hit. She swayed, before the world abruptly
righted as it rocked back onto its axis. She was dreaming, surely?

It was no black cat cresting the sand dune above her. Judas’
raven-black hair glinted under the brutal sun as he waded through the sand
toward her, naked and bare-footed and beautiful as all hell.

He crouched before her and she reached out an unsteady hand,
touching him and making sure he was real, he was all right. “How…how did you
get here?” she croaked.

“Don’t worry about that for now.” He lifted her effortlessly
in his arms. “Save your energy. I know of a safe place we can go.”

She swallowed, and almost choked. She needed water
desperately. And then she realized. The savage waves of suffering had receded,
but it’d left behind a brutal thirst and crippling, dizzy weakness. “Leave me here.
You can’t carry me all the way back. We’ll both die.”

When he remained silent and tucked her closer still before
he began to climb the nearest dune, Akeisha heaved out a sigh of surrender, too
weak to fight Judas and the blackness pressing in around her.

* * * * *

“The humans have broken through our guards. We need to get
you inside! And no matter what happens, stay quiet. Don’t say a word.”

Akeisha glowered at Sienna, the
larakyte
handmaiden.
“I want to fight alongside my father and his soldiers.”

Sienna glared back, not giving an inch, though desperation
had leeched her face white. “You will do as I say and no more argument. Your
father entrusted me to care for you and I’m not going to be the one to tell him
his ten-year-old daughter was killed because I didn’t have the tenacity to make
you do as you’re told.”

Akeisha knew the maiden was scared for her own life too, and
who could blame her? Screams and fighting were coming ever closer to the
library, growing in volume.

She nodded reluctance, her hands clenched. She’d pretend to
stay in the secret room behind the thick stone walls, built long ago to hide
classified documents and such. When Sienna was gone and safely hidden, she’d
push on the tiny niche inside the wall that’d spring open the hidden door.

She would fight beside her people.

Sienna hustled her inside. It was dank and dark. But when
the handmaiden shut the heavy door, the pitch-black silence was absolute.
Akeisha had only ever been in the room once, a few years before. She’d sneaked
inside, a candle in hand to break the bleak darkness.

She hadn’t stayed longer than a minute.

She swallowed. Hard. Then a loud snick rang out. She froze,
disbelieving. A lock had been turned!

Akeisha fumbled for the niche, found it and pressed. The
lock didn’t budge. “Sienna, no!”

The handmaiden’s voice was muffled from the other side of
the closed door. “Sorry, child, but it’s for your own good. Plans are already
in place to escape to the forest. Any survivors will come back for you. But for
now I beg of you. No matter what you hear, stay quiet. If you love your people,
remember your being alive might well be the
larakytes
only hope.”

Akeisha didn’t have any more time to plead or beg to be let
out. A loud bang ricocheted the entire library. And then another. She bit into
her bottom lip, tasting blood. The humans were breaking down the library door.

She put a hand over her mouth, stifling an urge to yell at
her handmaiden and tell her to escape, to run for her life.

One more terrifying bang was followed by something skidding
across the floor. Akeisha bit back a sob, certain it was a large chunk of the
thick door. She could only hope and pray Sienna had already escaped.

A man’s coarse, leering laugh seemed all too close. Then she
heard it. A scream. High pitched and terrified.

Sienna’s.

Akeisha slid to the floor, pushing her fingers into her
mouth. She bit hard, stopping her own screams from tearing free and giving away
her hiding place as more sounds, horrible sounds, infiltrated the walls. Sounds
she never wanted to hear again.

Quiet sobs racked her body, tears cascading down her face.
She’d effectively killed Sienna by being obstinate and refusing to hide, time
in which the handmaiden could have escaped.

Time held no meaning. A doomed silence had long since taken
over in the library, Akeisha’s sobs becoming strangled breaths as darkness
pressed in at her on all sides.

Seemed only fair that the room that had spared her would
soon become her tomb, a place to die. Her people weren’t coming for her, they
were likely all dead, killed by the same humans who’d murdered Sienna.

Who’d undoubtedly murdered her father.

Chapter Five

 

Akeisha’s breath caught in her throat as she slowly came to,
taking a moment to realize she was no longer the little girl left alone in the
secret room for two-and-a-half long, terrifying days.

Two-and-a-half days before her father and what was left of
the
larakyte
people had risked returning for her, hoping against hope
she was still alive.

Voices murmured nearby and she struggled to make sense of
her whereabouts. Damp and mildew hung heavy in the sluggish air, along with an
undertone of decay.

“I think she’s going to make it, Sire.”

Someone peeled a hot, wet cloth from her brow and replaced
it with another that was blessedly cool.

She cracked her eyelids open.

A cave. She was in a cave. A dank, dark place just like the
small room.

She swallowed, instantly alarmed as claustrophobia
threatened. But as Judas leaned down, one hand clasping hers, the other gently
holding the cloth in place, she sucked in a steadying breath, reassured by his
touch, his presence.

She blinked, trying to focus. Trying to get things straight
in her mind. And failing. “We…we made it,” she whispered.

His smile was full of relief, full of…love? “We did, angel.”

But how? Somehow the question seemed too much effort, too
much to take in.

She licked her dry, cracked lips and he leaned forward,
clasping behind her head to raise her slightly before lifting a cup to her
mouth. Cool water slid down her parched throat and trickled down her chin. She
wanted more.

“Easy,” Judas said. “Just a little at a time.”

She was too weak to argue. Too weak to even stay awake. Her
eyes fluttered closed again and she drifted in and out of consciousness, her
body attempting to revitalize after the forced shift and subsequent agony of
regeneration.

Even so, intermittent, brief snatches of conversation
filtered into her mind.

“They’re closing in on us, Sire.”

“She’s too weak to move yet.”

“No choice.”

“We wait. For just a little longer. We wait.”

Was she was awake or dreaming?

Sometime later, her eyelids flickered apart as Judas
elevated her a little and dressed her in a
cotesh
robe with all too
practiced hands. When his arms locked under her before lifting her high, she
focused on his face. Defined cheekbones taut with concern, sensual lips pressed
tight. Then, as if aware of her stare, he met her gaze and his face relaxed.

“Sorry to disturb you angel, but we have to move.”

So what she’d heard hadn’t been a dream. She wriggled in his
arms, wanting only to stand on her own two feet. She needed to lighten his load
so there was better chance at escape.

“In a few hours your body will be strong enough to walk;
even fight,” he said. “But not yet.”

She frowned. Did Judas perceive her every thought? And how
did he know how long exactly it would take for her body to fully recuperate?

“Until then,” he added, “let me help you. Trust me, okay?”

She relented with a nod, forcing her stare from his hawkish,
beautiful face and to the dirty, rock walls closing in either side. The natural
corridor danced with shadow and light from the naked flames of torches of at
least a dozen people escorting them front and back.

But pressed against Judas’ hard strength, his iron will, she
managed to keep her fear at bay, managed to be distracted by the many
unanswered questions filling her mind.

Judas had risked life and limb following her into the
desert, where navigation was a guessing game at best and the ever-shifting sand
dunes could bury a human alive. Hell, he’d risked his kingdom for her and she
hadn’t even found the courage to tell him who she really was.

“Thank you for saving me,” she said. “Though I know you must
hate me for deceiving you.”

Something…curious flashed in his eyes, followed as quickly
by regret.

She drew in a sharp breath. Could he not forgive her?

Hooves clattered on the hard packed cave floor far behind
them. His nostrils flared, eyes narrowing. “Move!” he commanded to the people
around him, “To the gathering room. You know what you must do.”

Akeisha wrapped her arms around him, clinging tight as he
bounded into an effortless run to the back of the caves.

Soldiers shouted from behind, gaining ground, their horses
snorting fearfully at the ever-narrowing passageway.

She resisted a whimper as claustrophobia again threatened.
But…perhaps this once the confined space was her friend, not her enemy?

Judas and his servants burst into a huge room, the torches
they pushed into man-made brackets on the cave walls not even making a dent in
the blackness above.

Judas grabbed a spare torch from one of his men and strode
to the far end of the huge cavern. He leaned the torch against a boulder of
around shoulder-height, before he lifted her high so that she could scramble
onto the smooth, elevated platform.

“Stay here,” he ordered, his eyes holding hers. Intent.
Steely. “Keep hidden. The soldiers won’t search for you—they believe you died
in the dunes.”

He grabbed the torch and raised it overhead so that the
flame radiated around her. And that was when she saw the hole behind her—a
tunnel—in the cave wall.

Shock kept her silent, though inside a choked scream built
and built.

“If we don’t win this fight,” he said carefully, “you’ll
need to crawl through the tunnel. Even if the soldiers see you, none will be
small enough to follow.”

She shook her head, heart banging in her throat. “No. I…I
can’t. I’m terrified of…of small spaces.”

His hard eyes softened beneath the flickering flame. “Yes
you can. I know you can. The tunnel leads straight to the palace. Find
Fontaine. She will organize supplies for you, a horse. Then you can return to
your people before any of the soldiers discover where you are.”

Tears rolled down her face. But it wasn’t for her incessant
fears. She couldn’t let him die! He’d saved her life, she couldn’t abandon him.
Besides, he’d need all the help he could get against his soldiers.

She looked over his shoulder to the servants. Even with her
emotions blown to the four winds she knew they were an unorthodox lot of
fighters if ever she’d seen any.

The
cotesh
women, all three of them. The eunuch,
along with three others. A wiry man she vaguely recognized as the driver of the
horse carriage. And a handful of other men she’d never seen.

Please god, no.

It’d be massacre. All hope shriveled, cold, hard grief
stripping what was left of her tears. Once again she’d have to watch someone
she loved die.

Loved?
I do love him. I really do
.

Her breath caught. Emotions swelled. While she still had
breath in her body, blood flowing through her veins, she wasn’t going to let
anything happen to Judas.

She wasn’t leaving him.

Judas cupped her face, forcing her stare back to him.
“Promise me. Promise you’ll go through the tunnel and not look back.”

The soldiers’ shouts, curses and fierce war cries grew in
volume, echoing right along with the rhythmic clap of their horses hooves.

“I’ve heard the story of the
larakyte
princess, who
as a little girl was locked in a room all alone.” His stare fairly glowed. “I
love you all the more for your bravery right now. Just…stay strong. Do it for
me, for your people. Promise me you’ll go through that tunnel.”

Heart splintering in a thousand pieces, she nodded.

He kissed her then. Hard. Passionately.

Oh dear god. Was this goodbye?

But she couldn’t yell out, couldn’t stop him as he retrieved
the torch and turned away, plunging the rear of the cave into darkness. She
clutched at the cold, damp stone, fighting back panicked sobs even as Judas
barked out orders for his servants to shift shape and fight the enemy.

Shift shape?

Beneath the flickering lights on the farther side of the
cavern, servants began to change. Slow but steady. Not the instantaneous shift
that could well be fatal.

Her eyes widened, her mouth dropping open.

No. Way.

But of course the eunuchs were no
larakytes.
They
were
mylantites
. Horse shifters, believed to be extinct.

The eunuchs’ poison-tipped spears thudded to the ground.
Their muscled limbs evolved into the long, athletic legs of equestrians with
shiny-tipped hooves, their torsos lengthening into the barrel-shape of a horse,
with long white tails and manes.

She blinked. The eunuchs as horses were the one and same
grays who’d pulled their king’s carriage.

The
cotesh
women had almost fully turned into
eagles—golden eagles—their beady eyes focused overhead as they snapped the air
with their huge, newly formed wings.

Kyskyts
had once graced the air in the thousands,
until humans had hunted the eagles from the skies, killing even the ones
without shape-shifting blood to ensure they rid the world of all possible
shifters.

The
mylantites
hadn’t fared any better. Even the ones
who’d been unknowingly used as mounts by humans had to shift eventually. And
humans had learned to put a stallion with a mare in season to bring about their
change and vice-versa.

The eunuchs had clearly been gelded in their horse form,
which had stilled their urge to mate and involuntarily shift. Hell. She could
only imagine the pain they’d endured, as much by not shifting to stop the
procedure as the agony of the act itself.

She didn’t have time to think anymore of the matter. The
eagles took flight, their high-pitched screams echoing in the cavern as their
wings beat through the air, taking them higher and higher until darkness
engulfed them.

And just as the first soldier’s horse clattered into the
room, a noise unlike anything Akeisha had ever heard roared from the ceiling
and pulsed downward. Bats! Thousands upon thousands of bats clicking and
flapping, escaping the eagles and descending toward the exit. The same exit the
soldiers were coming through, single file.

She dropped onto her belly and covered her head, her ears,
still able to make out the faint, high-pitched whinny of terrified horses, of
soldiers yelling and cursing as they tried to control their mounts.

The bats circled en-masse, lower and lower, blocking out the
light from the torches. But not before she made out Raffia on his panicked
horse, Vasilous astride behind him, clutching at the captain’s torso even as
the horse reared.

The bats swarmed toward the passageway and true darkness
descended. She bit her lip, willing calm, though she was literally blind and
death to everything but the bats. Only once the majority of the creatures had
escaped did she peer ahead again.

Three of the torches had been extinguished by the bats, but
there was enough light to see five soldiers were already dead. A gray horse lay
unmoving, evidently killed instantly or the eunuch would have returned to his
human form before death claimed him.

Her belly clenched. She’d seen much death. It never got any
easier.

The remaining soldiers were all on foot, undoubtedly thrown
by their horses who’d panicked into flight mode.

The remaining three shifter grays charged toward them,
showing bared teeth and flashing hooves. Their long legs lashed out, more than
once connecting in a sickening thud with flesh, before they danced away again,
out of reach of the soldiers’ swords and fighting rods.

Her pulse filling her ears with a frantic beat, she scanned
for Judas. Then she saw him. In a far corner where light barely penetrated,
fighting both Raffia and Vasilous.

One of the eagles abruptly swooped from up high, talons
outstretched. Vasilous looked up, reflexively thrusting out his sword. The
eagle was set in its course, too bulky to evade the counterattack. It
screeched, then went silent, thudding to the ground and lying unmoving.

Akeisha put a hand to her mouth, feeling ill. Only days ago
that same
cotesh
woman had helped bathe her, waxed and plucked her body
before dressing her for the king.

Fury for the now-dead woman; for Judas as struggled to hold
the two men at bay, pumped adrenaline through her veins, blocking out the fact
her body was not yet fully recovered.

She slipped from the boulder. She might have promised him to
go through the tunnel, but she’d never promised to leave him behind. She’d go
through the tunnel—alone if need be and face her fears—but she’d make damn sure
Judas escaped too!

Keeping to the shadows, she part-shifted, her eyes reverting
to panther vision to better see in the darkness. Superior sight would tax even
more of the strength she’d regained, but the advantages far outweighed any
disadvantage.

The grays had killed another couple of soldiers, but they
were busy fighting off the remainder when she secured a poison-tipped spear.
She crept behind Vasilous and Raffia. Judas’ moves had weakened and become
defensive, countering their dual thrusts and jabs, using his gold cuffs more
than once to deflect a blade.

Guilt cut within. She was the very reason his strength had
ebbed. He’d expended precious energy saving her from the desert and then caring
for her after the ordeal.

I’ll not let you die
.

Spear raised, she said aloud, “Psst. Vasilous.”

He spun around, caught by complete surprise. Without
hesitation, she hurled the spear forward, straight and true. And as it pushed
through his chest and out his back, she said, “That’s for all the
larakytes
you’ve killed and tortured.”

“No!” Shock, then crazed hate and finally, a stunned
realization he was going to die, jolted across his features.

In her peripheral, she saw Judas pause, his anxiety clear.
“Angel, run!”

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