Reluctant Prince (22 page)

The tempo of the chanting increased with the volume. A hundred voices joined.

The pain intensified. His back arched. He lifted his arms out to the sides, elbows bent, palms up, beseeching the ancients to guide him on his journey, to give him the strength he’d need to fulfill his calling.

With one last vicious sting across his bicep, his stomach heaved, and he fell to the floor. The light dimmed, faded.

Ryleigh reached for him. As she grabbed his hand to help him up, one ray of light intensified. It climbed up her arm. She tried to pull her hand away.

Jackson released her.

The light did not.

Her face etched with fear, and pain. “Make it stop. What’s happening?”

“Elijah?” Jackson looked on, helpless to stop it. He turned to the prophet. “Elijah can you stop this? What have you done?”

“I’ve done nothing, My Prince. It is simply what will be.”

The light dimmed, faded, flickered out.

Elijah stood stunned, mouth agape.

King Maynard stood stone faced.

Ryleigh looked down at her arm and gasped. “No.”

Her small cry tore through Jackson.

Ryleigh scrubbed her arm. The burning had stopped, but the mark remained. “What have you done? Get this off of me.” No use. No matter how hard she rubbed, it wasn’t coming off.

A thin, intricately woven, tribal design laced around her bicep. The tattoo, deep purple and white intertwined lines, was beautiful. Had it only been decorative, she might even have considered keeping it. But nothing in this world was just decorative. Everything seemed to mean something, symbolize something. She assumed the mark that had appeared on Jackson’s arm, black lines with a red slash through the center, was the symbol of the Death Dealer. Although she had no clue if he wore the mark of the King.

She studied her own mark. A brief flicker of curiosity tried to surface, but she tamped it down. She
did not
want to know.

King Maynard was the first to recover. “Calm down, Ryleigh—”

“Calm down? Calm down. Are you freakin’ kidding me?”

The small flicker of a smile tugged at his mouth, and a sparkle lit his dark eyes.

“What’s so funny?”

Jackson started to wheeze at her side.

She ignored him.

“I am so
not
amused.” She couldn’t rein in the anger.

The King let loose a roar of laughter. He tried to speak, but the laughter choked him.

Ryleigh folded her arms across her chest and tapped her foot against the floor. “Any time you’re done laughing, would you care to explain this?”

He nodded but only laughed harder. If the laughter didn’t strangle him soon, she would.

Shock held Jackson frozen, his mouth open. Great.

Elijah intervened. “Please, cal…umm…” Her glare stopped him.

“Do not tell me to calm down.”

“All right.”

King Maynard snorted, wrestling his laughter under control.

Jackson finally closed his mouth.

Elijah tried again. “It’s nothing bad.”

Okay, that was a better start than calm down. Ryleigh inhaled deeply, struggled to leash her anger. “I’m listening.”

“You simply bear the mark of a Princess.” He shrugged. “We already knew that, so it’s not all that big a deal. Right?”

Hmmm…Maybe that was all right. She examined the tattoo. It was elaborate, but quite delicate. A number of very thin purple lines all woven together and adorned with white flowers. “Is that all it means?”

“Uh…well…pretty much.”

“Pretty much?” She raised an eyebrow and waited. That tactic had sometimes worked on Mia, and since these men were acting like a group of unruly children, she hoped it would be effective.

Elijah stepped forward. She’d expected him to cave first.

Jackson and his father were too entertained.

A little niggle of guilt ate at her. Elijah was such a gentle man. It felt wrong to intimidate him.

“My Princess. The purple lines of the brand represent a Princess of Cymmera.”

“Do all women in Cymmera have these?”

“No. Only those descended from royalty.”

“Royalty? Are you saying I’m a descendent of King Maynard?” A surge of disappointment flowed through her. Could she and Jackson be related? She took in the horrified expression on his face.

“No.”

Jackson relaxed.

Some of Ryleigh’s tension eased.

“You are descended from King Raya. He is the only other royal line to ever have ruled Cymmera. The legends are obviously true. Your sister will one day have a similar mark.”

“So Mia will one day be able to survive here?” The relief surprised her. Had she planned to stay here? She had no clue, perhaps she had.

“Yes. She will undoubtedly be able to live in Cymmera and bear the mark of a Princess, if she so chooses.”

“Okay. I think I can live with this.” With relief calming her, she almost forgot about the other part of what he’d said. Almost. “What do the white flowers represent?”

He hesitated. He straightened his back, lifted his chin, as if bracing himself to impart the news.

She suddenly wanted him to stop. Don’t say another thing, she implored him silently. But she couldn’t stop the flow of words.

“The white lines are the mark of the future Queen of Cymmera.”

A weight fell onto her chest. Crushing her. She couldn’t breathe.

Jackson’s expression held only shock.

King Maynard’s held knowledge. And compassion.

A commotion from the hallway stopped her from having to respond. A loud pounding sounded against the door. “Elijah!”

“Yes.”

“I must see you and King Maynard immediately.” Darius Knight’s voice sounded strained even through the thick wood door.

“Go quickly. Get changed.” Elijah’s hushed tone held an unusual urgency. He picked up Jackson’s shirt and threw it to him then shooed them out of sight.

Jackson placed his hand on the small of Ryleigh’s back and guided her through the door to the dressing room. “Stay quiet.” He pulled on his black t-shirt, covering the symbol that now adorned his shoulder.

Ryleigh pulled her jeans on under the flowing gown. She pulled them up and buttoned them then hastily pulled the blue sweater over her head, slid her arms out of the beaded straps, and shoved her hands into the sweater sleeves. She wiggled the gown down past her hips and stepped out of it then threw it over the back of a chair.

Desire darkened Jackson’s eyes.

Heat flared. “Pig.”

“What?” The wide-eyed innocent look was ruined by the mischievous grin that spread lazily across his face.

She laughed softly, but sobered quickly. “Do you think something’s wrong?” Surely if something was wrong with Mia they would have called for Ryleigh as well.

Jackson took a step toward her, his stare intense. He reached up, slid his fingers through her hair.

She stiffened.

He lowered his hands to her neck.

Her blood warmed. A tingle started in her belly. Spread—

Jackson pulled back and lifted a hand to dangle the choker she’d been wearing in front of her. He tossed it on the chair and moved to the doorway.

Ugh…that guy could frustrate her like no one else. She dismissed her growing desire and moved to stand beside him.

He put his finger to his full lips to silence her.

Okay, do not think about his lips
. She nodded.

He steered her in front of him and leaned against her back, both of them pressing their ears to the door he held cracked open.

Darius Knight spoke calmly, matter-of-factly. “…entered the far reaches of Cymmera, not the city itself, but the outlying areas. The word we received is they can’t hold them back. The warriors we have stationed out there are doing their best, but they’re no match for an entire army of savages.”

“Have you sent help?” King Maynard’s voice held no sign of laughter now. It also held no hint of anger, nor any other emotion.

“I sent Chayce with a small group of soldiers. I also sent the messenger bird with a coded message that help would arrive before the next nightfall. The stable boys are preparing the dragons for battle as we speak.”

Stable boys? Battle?
Whoa.
Did he just say dragons? A thrill rushed through her. Terror chased it away.

Savages had entered Cymmera? She had to get to Mia. Tattoo or no tattoo, Jackson or no Jackson, she was leaving here and taking Mia with her.

The brand on her arm stung, just for the briefest moment, a gentle reminder of where her loyalty should lie.

Jackson retreated, pulling her focus from her internal battle. “Wait here.” The whisper was harsh, left no room for argument. He’d issued an order and assumed she would obey as he strode from the room without as much as a backward glance.

Yeah right.
She followed him into the main chamber.

All three of the men looked up at Jackson and Ryleigh’s approach.

King Maynard maintained a neutral expression.

Elijah scowled.

Darius raised an eyebrow and looked questioningly at Elijah.

Ryleigh scanned the room, like a kid searching for something she left out that would get her in trouble, but no sign of the Ordination Ceremony remained.

“Has the city been secured?” The King’s monotone thundered through the room.

Darius read from a small leather book. “The Junior Guard is stationed along the wall.”

Jackson pinned him with a stare.

“Dakota remained with Mia for now.”

Jackson nodded.

“More seasoned soldiers are guarding the perimeter of the castle, but we’re going to have to make some decisions.”

King Maynard massaged his temples, the first outward sign of tension he’d shown. “Yes. Where’s Kai?”

“On his way. I sent for him immediately. I was told you were here with Elijah, so I requested he meet us here.” Though the question was evident in Darius’s tone, no one elaborated on what they’d been discussing. He let it drop.

“All right. Do you have damage reports?” King Maynard clasped his hands behind his back and paced.

Darius hesitated, stared pointedly at Ryleigh.

“Speak freely.” None of the playfulness she’d become used to was evident in Jackson’s forceful command. He was every bit the warrior in that moment. Dark. Dangerous.

She’d glimpsed a hint of that danger before, but never as close to the surface as it now was.

“Very well, sir.” Darius took a deep breath. “The outermost village has been completely destroyed, everyone killed except for one child who somehow managed to escape the slaughter.”

Ryleigh’s hand flew to her mouth. Bile surged into her throat, threatened to erupt.

All of the men stared at her.

She swallowed. The bile burned its way back down to her gut. It roiled, but stayed down. She worked to blank the horrified expression that had to be evident on her face.

“Where is the child now?” Jackson drew the attention from Ryleigh.

Grateful for the reprieve, she worked to contain her emotions.

“She made it to a small outpost in time to warn the guards what was happening. A soldier is trying to make his way here with her. That child most likely saved the outpost from a similar fate.”

“Oh, please.” Kai strode into the room. “That outpost is staffed with seasoned soldiers. There would have been no slaughter.”

“My reports are that our soldiers are outnumbered by about four to one. The savages were brutal in their destruction of the village. They left everything—and everyone—in pieces.”

“Hmm.” Kai stood perfectly still, hands clasped behind him, feet apart.

A guard entered the chamber. “Sir, the latest message has arrived.” He handed Darius a small scroll, bowed to the King, and retreated to the doorway.

Darius opened it and read aloud. “The outpost guards are involved in an intense battle. The commander has issued orders to pull back if they can. They are going to try and set up an ambush closer to the village of Maris in an effort to stop the savages from reaching it.” Darius paused and lifted his gaze from the scroll. He met each of their gazes before speaking. “He’s not optimistic. He suggests we try to intercept them after they’ve passed Maris but before they reach Coran.”

“The Death Dealers might be able to reach Coran before the savages do. The Cymmeran Guard will not.” Kai’s voice held no emotion.

Silence hung in the air. Thick, heavy, oppressive.

King Maynard stood tall, his posture tense. “Very well. Issue the orders.”

The guard bowed then turned and left.

Kai started to follow him, but stopped and turned back to face King Maynard. “Won’t my
protégé
be joining me?”

Ryleigh’s heart stopped. Surely Jackson wasn’t going to leave her.

Darius intervened. “Prince Maynard has been assigned to guard the Princess.”

Kai turned a disgusted gaze on Ryleigh.

She rubbed the tattoo on her arm, foolish, since he couldn’t see the mark through her sweater, but she couldn’t help but feel exposed under his intense scrutiny.

He turned his back on her and addressed Darius. “This is a time of war. Our people are being slaughtered. We are their only hope for defense right now. The
Prince
will take his proper place in battle.”

Darius opened his mouth to speak.

Kai pointed a finger in his face. “I will not lead my team into a battle of this magnitude short a man. Jackson either takes his place, or my Death Dealers will remain here to protect the city, and the villages can fend for themselves.”

Elijah lunged toward him. “That’s a death sentence for thousands of people, Kai.” His hands trembled, curled into fists.

Kai spun toward Elijah, gripping the handle of the long sword at his side. “Indeed it is.”

“That’s it.” King Maynard ripped his sword from its sheath.

Ryleigh sucked in a breath.

He pointed the sword at Jackson. “Prince Maynard. Join your unit.”

Jackson’s eyes went wide. Then blank. “Yes, sir.” He bowed and moved to leave. The look he shot Kai burned with hatred.

The warrior stared back at him, his expression smug.

“Jackson.”

He stopped but didn’t turn back to his father. “Sir.”