Portal to Passion (25 page)

“Deveney,” Nona replied. “And, Tor, they used forbidden magic. She did you proud. Her magic is the strongest I’ve ever seen. But Obinu is evil. He waited for a moment of weakness and attacked her from behind. He hit her with a stinger. It must have been coated with something powerful because she sank to the ground within seconds. He and his men scooped her up and ran. There was nothing the remaining guards could do.”

“I blame myself, Nona.” Tor glanced from Willow to Sven. “I should have stayed behind. I should have been here to protect her.”

“You followed the correct path of the Ruler of the Clans, Tor. You did what you were expected to do,” Griswaldin interrupted. Neither heard him enter or walk up behind them.

Tor turned to face him.

“I have word of the events that occurred and await your council,” Griswaldin said.

“Anything from Gawyn?” Tor questioned.

“None as of yet,” Griswaldin replied with a shake of his head.

Tor hated to think what might have happened to his friend. So many had been killed or wounded. He could only hope there was an alternative answer for Gawyn’s absence.

Griswaldin turned and maneuvered from bed to bed, stopping at each fallen guard to check their status. Tor took a step to follow him, but was halted by the touch of cold fingertips to his wrist. Sven’s eyes were open and his lips trembled as he struggled to speak.

“I’m sorry, brother. I failed you.”

Tor suffered tremendous pain as he gathered his twin’s hand in his and held it to his heart. His brother had not failed him and he wanted Sven to understand that.

“No, brother. You did not fail me. You fought the gallant battle against immeasurable odds. It was just Obinu’s turn to win. But now,” Tor squeezed Sven’s hand in an effort to reinstate his confidence, “is our turn for victory. He captured my mate and I intend to take her back.”

* * * * *

Within the hour, Tor and Griswaldin sat in his office. Together they discussed the events of the attack on the palace.

“They entered on the north side. Must have burned a ton of their magical resources to come in
snàmh-cèairds
unnoticed,” Griswaldin stated.

“You think they cloaked them with invisibility charms?”

“I do.” Griswaldin cleared his throat, then continued. “It’s the only way they could have gotten past the guards I posted. From the positions we found them in, they never had a chance. Something beheaded them as they stood watch. I’ve only seen it done once in my lifetime, but I think they flew in low and sliced off their heads with the metal lip around the lower edge of one of their
snàmh-cèairds
.”

“Is that possible?” Tor’s brows bunched. He tried not to envision the event but failed. Those guards were young and full of hope of finding a mate. Now… He shook his head in despair. That would never be for them.

“It’s possible. Not sure if the snakes have the skill or just dumb luck to pull off a stunt like that,” Griswaldin snarled.

“Any way to prove they used this charm?”

“I know those snakes used invisibility charms on their
snàmh-cèairds
.” Griswaldin laid a handful of snake-shaped amulets on Tor’s desk. “And I’ve got the proof right here. We found these scattered inside the perimeter of the palace grounds at locations where it appears a craft landed. These reek of herbs and ancient potions. I wouldn’t put it past that old magi they’ve got in their clan to have done something like this. She’s an evil one. They probably attached them to their
snàmh-cèairds
and the magic lasted long enough for them to get inside the palace gates undetected.”

If they used the ancient magi of their clan in this battle, it went against clan law. But apparently Obinu didn’t care about the clans. He served one purpose—himself. Tor’s jaw tightened as Deveney filled his thoughts. Obinu had signed his death warrant without even realizing it. It didn’t matter which form he chose, man or snake, either way he was dead.

“That charm explains how they got on the palace grounds.” Tor stared at the forbidden charm on his desk. Obinu had violated the last condition of the truce he could allow. This time the Gathering of the Clans would have to render him unfit to rule the Serpentes Clan, and then he would finally be punished for his indiscretions.

A solid thump on the window grabbed both men’s attention. Gawyn hovered outside, flapping his large wings. Relief washed over Tor as he hurried and let in the giant redtail hawk. The moment he landed, he shifted into man.

“It’s good to see you are well,” Tor stated, greeting his friend in a brotherly hug. “I feared you’d fallen in the battle and your body hadn’t been found as of yet.”

Gawyn’s head shook. He straightened and accepted the robe Griswaldin handed him. In a gruff voice, the older man said, “Put this on. It’s one of the extras Tor keeps in the office in case he shifts in a rush and needs a replacement when he returns to man form.”

As Gawyn slipped it on, he briefed them on his absence.

“I am sorry for my delay. At your command, I flew directly here. My arrival was too late. The battle ended as I crossed into Bear territory. When I saw Obinu’s men carrying an unconscious woman away from the palace, I decided to follow them instead of land. From what I saw, Nona was in control and I knew she’d see to the wounded. But the prisoner needed help.”

He hurried to the map and pointed. All eyes stared at the dark-colored territory his finger touched. “I followed them all the way back to Ophidian Palace. I wanted to make sure they didn’t stash her somewhere else on their lands before I returned.”

Tor looked from one man to the other. It made his heart heavy to have to make the decision necessary in this matter. War was never an easy choice. Both sides lost in Tor’s opinion. With clans hovering on extinction, even one life was too precious to lose. But Obinu’s actions were too heinous to overlook. He’d killed several good men in order to steal Deveney. But for what purpose? Didn’t Obinu realize the magic controlled the mating? Or was he after something else and planned to use Deveney as leverage?

The Mirror of Azure flashed to the forefront of his brain. There was no way he’d give that snake control of the mirror. And he had no intentions of losing Deveney at the hands of Obinu.

Heat filled his veins and hatred knotted his gut at the thought of the torture his woman might be suffering at that moment. Tor closed his eyes and prayed he wasn’t making this decision based on personal reasons. No, he decided with a low growl. This had been a long time coming for Obinu. Though it pained him to have to say the words, he had no choice.

“Obinu’s actions have left us no choice.” He sighed heavily. “Gentlemen, we must invade their lands and take back what they have stolen.”

A sinister smile appeared on Griswaldin’s lips. He said in a low, to-the-point tone, “It’s going to be a bloody battle, Tor. There is no other way to handle a snake like Obinu. Are you ready to accept there can be no peace in this matter?”

Tor nodded. A war between clans never went well. At any other time, he would have spoken for peace. But not now, not today. Not when it came to the safety of his mate. And not after all the death and destruction the Snake clan caused.

He took a deep breath and steeled his spine. Words he’d prayed never to have to say left his lips. “There can be no peace with Obinu as the leader of the Snake clan. His choices have been poor and aligned against the good of the clans as a whole. We are at war, Griswaldin. Prepare the men. We leave immediately.”

Chapter Sixteen

Unfamiliar hands touched her. Strange, unknown faces and voices whirled through her thoughts, confusing her. Where was she? Deveney couldn’t get a fix on her location as every fiber of her body hummed with an eerie sensation, adding to her confused state of mind. What was wrong with her? No amount of effort fired her magic to life. She groaned inwardly at the pain her attempts caused. Something had taken her magic. Was that possible?

Her eyesight blurred as she pried her eyes open to slender slits. Before her eyelids revolted and closed, she managed to get a look at the person nearest to her, though his features were fuzzy at best. She thought she saw a man. Big, black oval-shaped eyes stared at her and a long tongue flicked from his mouth.

It wasn’t her mate who touched her. It wasn’t Tor who caressed her. Bile rose to the back of her throat at the thought of another man’s hands on her. She struggled to push him away, but her hands wouldn’t obey. When she called for her magic, it still didn’t come. Instead, heat sizzled in her core and intense pain rattled her brain.

A sharp twinge in the back of her neck reminded her she’d been drugged. The non-responsiveness of her limbs had to be a side effect of the drug. She tried to mentally whisk the lingering fog from her brain, but it persisted in muddling her thoughts. The moment the tip of his snakelike tongue brushed across her lips, her brain burned and her stomach twisted in knots.

Oh god, the baby!
She needed to keep their baby safe. Fear washed over her. Without the use of her magic, she had no defenses. Digging deep, she thought only of Tor and the baby. A flicker of hope ignited in the palms of her hands in the form of a heated itch. It was a start, but she needed more. She focused and battled against the extreme pain that riddled her body with the effort.

Keep the baby safe
, repeated in her thoughts as she struggled for control over the drug.

His sinister laugh when he pried her legs apart sent a chill straight up her spine. His obnoxious declaration that he’d make her his pushed her anger past the point of no return. Fear gave way to determination. Anger rose to the forefront of her brain, overriding the remnants of the drug. What was wrong with this man? Didn’t he understand the nature of the magic? She belonged with Tor and no other. This man needed to be taught that bit of information in a way he wouldn’t forget…ever.

Pure heat with the intensity of lava boiled in her gut. It traveled at a phenomenal pace from one end of her body to the other. The heat changed to magic and encapsulated her physical form with a vibrant magical shell, bursting in a multitude of colors. His scream echoed in her head.

She heard a thud. Forcing her eyes to open, she saw her attacker on fire, right before he slithered from the room.
Magical mayhem
, she cried in silence. Had she done that to him?

Her heart pounded. Though she tried, she couldn’t keep her eyes open and they slammed shut against the sudden onset of pain. Oh god, had she killed someone? She swallowed hard, trying not to gag at the thought. In all her years, the uncontrolled magical bouts had never taken a life. She’d caused damage, a few minor injuries, but never killed anyone. Tears slid down her cheeks as she attempted to think it through. The details were foggy. It had to be the drug lingering in her system. The more she tried to sort it out, the worse her head throbbed.

Everything hurt as Deveney managed to open her eyes to slender slits once again. One quick glance around and she knew she wasn’t at Bjorn Palace. Cold, dark and damp surrounded her. Stale air laced each breath, making her gag. Her head spun, but she fought it and succeeded in sitting upright. Though it took tremendous effort, she pried her eyelids wider apart. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t see. Not even when she lifted her hand and touched the tip of her nose could she see the hand or fingers in front of her face.

She didn’t know where she was or how long she’d been there. Her limbs were heavy and tough to move. In a slow, tedious manner, Deveney hugged her knees to her chest. It felt as if a boulder sat on her shoulders, so she lowered her forehead to rest upon her knees. If she could get the dizziness to end, then maybe she could think straight.

She took a deep breath, even though the air held the stench of death and decay. Without lifting her head, she tried to gain some knowledge of her surroundings. One hand lowered to the area beneath her. She spread her palm flat and slid it as far as she could without lifting her head. With her forehead resting on her knees, the spin slowed so she didn’t chance trying to sit upright again. Nothing but cold, damp soil graced her hand.

She needed the light on again. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the flow of magic in her veins. A sensation similar to glass shards slicing her skin shot down her arm from her shoulder to her fingertips the moment any visible sign of blue glow started. Biting back the scream, she quickly extinguished it and the pain dissipated. Touching her arms, she realized nothing had happened. There were no wounds. It had to be a side effect of the drug.

Or was it another way for her captor to control her? Maybe this drug attached to the magic and tricked the mind into believing there was pain. That way the prisoner refrained from trying to escape by magical force. The idea hit hard and she accidentally shifted her head. She bit back the moan that threatened to escape at the renewal of the spin cycle inside her brain. Though she couldn’t see them, she suspected there were guards posted outside the door. She didn’t want them to know she was awake.

Sweat trickled from her brow. She refused to let her captor win.
If
he was even still alive. She shivered against the unwanted image of the snakelike man on fire in her head. When she got out of here, she’d make sure he got help for his wounds.
If she got out.
Deveney chewed her lower lip and contemplated her next move. Were the others captive with her?

“Nona,” Deveney whispered. She desperately needed to know if they were there. No answer. “Willow, Tiben, Horace, Sven.”

Again no answer came her way. Panic tightened her chest. What happened to them? A tear slid down her cheek as she forced her neck to comply and lifted her head. Bed spins after a night of drinking were nothing compared to the cyclone sensation tormenting her brain at the moment. It took a great effort, but she managed to overcome the dizziness and keep her head up. She wanted to know if her friends were locked in this dingy place with her and if they were hurt and unable to answer. Gathering as much energy as she could muster, she concentrated on the magic. Again the sensation of glass cutting her skin to shreds coated her arms, but she refused to succumb to the pain. They needed her.

A low glow emanated from her palm, then inched to her fingertips. Holding her arm out, she used the light and scanned the room. Uncontrollable tears rolled down her cheeks as she held the magic in place and forced her heavy head to turn. She emitted dim light, but it gave her enough to see that she was alone. An object on the wall to her left caught her eye.

Deveney gritted her teeth and lifted her glowing hand by the wrist with her other hand. Every movement increased the immense tortured sensation of her skin ripping apart, and searing heat ran up and down her spine. An invisible grip clenched her lungs, which made her take slow, stuttered breaths. She had one chance and she knew she couldn’t miss. Doing this twice wasn’t an option. The pain was too extreme to endure a second time to gain light.

For a split second, she closed her eyes and gathered the last shred of strength deep from within. Opening her eyes, she held her hand pointed at the object on the wall and sent a faint blue ball of magic in its direction. She prayed it worked. A direct hit made her sigh and drop her hand. The light fizzled and disappeared, taking her hope with it. Tears welled before a spark ignited into a low flame within the round glass sconce on the wall.

An exhausted laugh escaped her lips. She did it. With her hands at her sides, she leaned back against the cold rock wall. Relief washed over her as the pain subsided. Looking around, she confirmed she was alone in a small room with no windows and one door. The black door had a tiny square window covered by a shield.

The light gave her hope.

Now she needed rest. Then she’d tackle that door and get out. One hand covered her lower abdomen as she curled on her side in a ball. The other arm cradled her head in its crook. As she thought of the light, warmth gathered in her core and eased some of the chill from her bones. She stared at the glowing flame within the globe until her lids slid shut.
Think heat
, she issued the silent mantra. Sleep slid over her worn body like a blanket. Before she succumbed completely, she prayed.

Tor, please be safe and take care of the others. I love you.

* * * * *

His troops camped on the edge of Serpentes land. Come sunrise the battle would begin. There had been no sleep for him, not with his lifemate held captive by a snake. This was not supposed to happen. Tor sighed heavily as he stood in the open flap of his canvas shelter and stared into the night, worried and missing Deveney. Raw emotions threatened to control him, but he fought against them. He had to remain in control if he were to succeed in this mission, save his love from harm and seek vengeance for his people.

Peace.
The one thing he’d wanted to maintain between the clans.
Peace.
But the leader of the Snake clan destroyed that option when he invaded Bjorn Palace, killed, wounded or maimed dozens of guards and took Deveney prisoner.

Obinu’s actions could not be overlooked or treated lightly. As Ruler of the Clans, it would make Tor seem weak if he didn’t respond to Obinu’s blatant disrespect of the truces between the clans. The unprovoked attack on Bjorn Palace demanded a strong response.

Why had Obinu taken Deveney and risked the lives of his entire clan? It didn’t make sense, not to Tor. Didn’t Obinu understand the magic of the chakras and the mating ritual? Obinu waged a war for a woman who could never be his. Tor released a heated snort as a thought surfaced. Obinu must have suffered from some sort of early onset of
Proprius Bestia
madness if he thought he could force a mating.

Anger grew in the pit of his gut and spread throughout his body. Deveney had better not be harmed. And his child… A vicious growl emanated from deep within, making his lips tremble as it escaped. His lifemate and child better be safe. Tor’s fists clenched and unclenched at his sides and his entire being stiffened. Grappling for some sliver of control, Tor paced.

Daybreak seemed an eternity away. If it were up to him, they would have attacked the moment they landed within striking distance of Ophidian Palace. But Griswaldin suggested they rest, regroup and organize their strategy. Not to mention, they used the
snàmh-cèairds
more in this day than they had for months. The continued use placed a dangerous strain on their magical resources, which they’d need in order to win this battle. Tor had to admit Griswaldin was wiser in the implementation of war than he, so they camped.

Thinking it through, Tor agreed with the sound idea, especially since he struggled to make decisions that weren’t emotionally guided. Deveney never left his mind and the need for her safe return controlled his every thought. In this battle, he leaned heavily on Griswaldin for logical counsel.

Others rested while he remained vigilant in his desires to save his woman. Deveney needed him. Tor spun on his heels, marched into the shelter and flopped onto the cot for the hundredth time this night. She was close. He sensed it. A cool breeze filtered through the open flap to coat his skin with a chill. Whispered words graced his ears. Tor sprang upright. The voice he knew. Deveney reached out to him.

Tor, please be safe and take care of the others. I love you.

He raced from his shelter and skidded to a halt at the sight of bright flames shooting across the distant skies. If he didn’t know better, he’d say Ophidian Palace was already under attack. The night watch spotted it and alerted the entire camp by sounding a loud horn. Bodies sprang out of multiple shelters scattered throughout the camp, tugged on weapons and fell in line.

Griswaldin appeared at his side, dragging a huge, battered snake by its tail behind him. Between clenched teeth, he growled, “Look what I found in the dark, trying to slither under the back edge of your shelter.”

With a flick of his wrist, Griswaldin threw the snake in the air and caught it right behind its neck. His grip tightened and its eyes bulged.

“Bring him into my shelter,” Tor commanded. “We don’t have much time. We’ll question him there.”

Griswaldin called to his second-in-command and issued the order to ready the troops. The man nodded and disappeared into the crowd of warriors. Griswaldin followed Tor into the tent-shaped shelter. After Tor sealed the flap, Griswaldin tossed the snake on the ground. They both recognized the man even before he shifted. Pale-green skin and large, black oval eyes—it had to be Obinu.

The stench of burned flesh filled each intake of air, but that didn’t stop Tor.

Light flashed off Tor’s sword as he pulled it from its sheath and leveled its tip to Obinu’s neck. There was no missing the hatred and anger in his tone. “Tell me why I should not slit your throat for the injustices you’ve caused against the clans.”

Obinu attempted to stand, but couldn’t. Burns covered multiple areas of his body, excluding his face. But from the disfiguration of his hands, he’d obviously used them to shield his face from harm. His legs remained crumpled beneath him and he leaned against the cot for support.