AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“And the Brethren that fled the Fliesch Monastery?” The monastery where Isavelle was held captive and beaten after she was recaptured. Two days ago, I led several dragons and a unit of wingrunners in an attack on the place. The Brethren ferociously defended it, and the battle lasted many hours. We rescued dozens of young women who were dressed the same as Isavelle when I first saw her.
I had hoped to find the High Priest cowering within and to watch as Scourge tore him to pieces. Instead, I discovered Isavelle’s scent in one of the underground cells, laced with misery and pain. Her tears and blood were all over a set of manacles. The wall where her cheek was pressed against the stone. The ground where she lay and wept in the dark.
I had that place razed to the ground in a fiery inferno.
“We think they have headed south, including the High Priest.”
I thank Godric and head over the stone bridge toward the castle. Isavelle’s vile torturer is still breathing.
I detect a sweet and luscious scent in the air and move to a nearby low wall and look down into a courtyard below. My mate is moving among a group of forty or so young women in scuffed white dresses. The Veiled Virgins we rescued. They’ve all discarded their veils and sit huddled together. Like Isavelle, they’ll have no idea where their families are, but I hope they’re able to discover other refugees from their villages in the coming days.
Godric has moved to my side and is looking down into the courtyard. As I watch, Isavelle puts her hand to her mouth and smothers a yawn, then scrubs a hand over her face.
“Is this your future queen,Ma’len?”
A smile spreads over my face. My queen. “She works too hard and sleeps too little.” Every night she sleeps on the hay with the refugees, and I have to hunt her down in the dark before lying with her. Most nights her sleep is broken by nightmares, and I have to hold her tight to my chest to soothe her.
“She devotes herself to the people instead of to the king,” Godric mutters.
I glance sideways at my friend. “Must you be so gloomy while I’m admiring my bride? She hasn’t accepted me as her mate, and she doesn’t even know I’m the future king. Leave the girl be.”
Godric makes a noncommittal noise and continues to cast his eyes over the scene below. While we watch, a dragon swoops low overhead, and every girl in the courtyard flinches, and some of them scream.
I detect another whiff of hostility from Godric as he says, “Those Veiled Virgins your bride fusses over are mostly human. Probably even all human, without a drop of Maledinni blood in them.”
I have no quarrel with humans. My kind has always interbred with them, and I imagine that after five hundred years there are tens of thousands of them living among the Maledinni. Now is not the time to tear families apart because the mother is human and the father is Maledinni, nor will it ever be the time.
“I have no doubt, and no concern about it either,” I tell him, moving away and calling over my shoulder, “Tell me about the preparations for the coronation.”
After a moment, Godric looks away from the women and follows me.
While we discuss the day when I’ll be crowned King of Maledin, we survey the damage that the castle and city suffered during our attack and the repairs that are being made. The day is a long one, and everywhere we go in the city, we encounter more and more refugees pouring into the capital.
Every now and then I stop and talk to some of them, ask where they have come from and the condition of their villages. I never fail to inquire whether they’ve heard of anyone from Amriste or any place to the west, but no one has.
“Why do you ask after Amriste,Ma’len? I thought your mother was from Gunster,” Godric says as we begin the long climb back up the hill to the castle.
“Lady Isavelle’s family is from Amriste. She hasn’t seen them in over a year, and she’s worried about them.”
Godric’s expression grows a shade more serious. “Should you wish for your bride to hear news of her family? What is to prevent her from leaving Lenhale as soon as she finds them?”
I stop in the road and turn to Godric. “What will prevent her? Me, of course, and I won’t stop her from leaving. I’ll ask her.”
“Will she heed your request?”
“I’m her Alpha,” I growl. I’ve had enough of his negativity for today. Isavelle isn’t going anywhere. She sleeps in my arms night after night, surrounded by my scent. No Omega can resist that.
Godric seems to realize he’s been testing my patience. “Of course,Ma’len. I only wish to consider things from all sides.” Godric is a Beta, and he oversees all the soldiers in the castle. Me included.
I give him a wry smile. “As you always have, and I’m grateful for it.”
A wingrunner is hurrying down the street toward me. I recognize Captain Ashton, and the moment he reaches me, he gasps, “Ma’len, Lady Isavelle has collapsed.”
I stare at the captain in shock, then break into a run.
“She’s in the—”
“I know where she is.” I can smell her from here, and her scent spikes with a sickly overtone.
