The Huntsman of Adamos (Quartet)- draft

CH ESCAPING THE BALL

“She is the one, my prince. At first, I only read the Light of her soul, she hid her true nature in innocence, but when you approached, I felt a vibration of darkness buried deep within,” Lord Canus revealed to his prince.

“Very good, perhaps we can... encourage her to join us for the wedding preparations and I can get to know her better then.”

Prince Lucif watched his daughter and the blind oracle weave through the crowd. He had wanted to touch the oracle himself, but his silly, lovesick youngest had interfered. There was something about Fleur that called to him, she was powerful, but it wasn’t only her power he desired, he wanted all of her. As he walked back toward the seating area given his entourage, he thought about the marriage between Serapha and Abrieth. An alliance marriage to the magically powerful House of Adamos that had existed for over 50,000 years would provide grandchildren with very powerful blood and then there were the prophecies concerning the sons of Adamos.

Serapha had always been a disappointment, so much like her mother, and unlike her twin Demona who was just like him. It had only been a blessing of the shadows that his weaker daughter had brought such powerful allies to the City of the Blood Temples after his first attempted coup had failed. Since the Sons of Adamos had killed both Apollyon and Lazarif, no one but Demona knew they were trying to take over the Kingdom. Only she knew they were not trying to save the people of Xelusia. The alliance with the noble Warrior Sons of Adamos had given Lucif credibility and integrity far beyond what the fourth born son had before the fall of the Shadow King and the Dark Siren Queen. He could walk freely on both worlds, Serapha’s marriage would further the myth he had built around himself as a hero of Xelusia, and more, it would allow him access to her future husband’s sister, the blind oracle.

Moments after they walked away from Lord Canus and Prince Lucif, they slipped out onto an empty balcony on the western side of the palace.

Fleur hugged Serapha tightly, “Thank you for saving me. If your father had touched me, he would have known I am not what I appear.”

“We haven’t saved you yet. Father has sent Demona to intercept us and meet you. He wants her to get you alone and that would be very bad,” Serapha declared unnecessarily.

Yurieth appeared behind Abrieth at that moment. “Demona is following me.”

“Get me away quickly, we cannot allow now-Demona to meet me.” Fleur demanded. Wrapping her arms around Yurieth as she had in the forest after they killed Lord Crux.

“We’ll lure them into the gardens,” Serapha said as Abrieth picked her up.

“Stay safe, brother.” Abrieth took three strong strides and leapt clear of the balcony, landing in the garden below and sprinted toward the hedge maze.

Yurieth noticed the two red-headed sons of Odini were also running in that direction with Oren.

Yurieth climbed the smooth wall behind him and vanished over the edge of the roof just as Demona rushed out. Hearing laughter, she went to the edge of the balcony and watched as Serapha called out happily, “Times up, I’m coming to find you, Fleur.”

Surprisingly, Fleur’s voice answered, “No, you won’t.”

Demona looked just as beautiful as the last time Yurieth had seen her nineteen years ago. She angrily slapped her hand on the top of the rail. Yurieth pressed back into the shadows with Fleur behind him, grateful the dark brown of the House of Adamos hid the sparkling shimmer of Fleur’s dress. Fleur breathed a sigh of relief when Demona went back inside in a huff. She was worried, even though Yurieth stood protectively in front of her. A few minutes later, Demona went toward the maze on the far side of the gardens, following the laughter of young Aetherians. Yurieth turned to face Fleur, she could see his hatred for Demona in his eyes before he quickly masked it.

“Why can Demona not meet you in this time? Is she also trapped by our imprisonment?” Yurieth asked unmoving.

“Yes, but not as a prisoner, she is nothing like Serapha.” Fleur answered coolly. “Why do you hate her?”

“Because she is nothing like Serapha, no matter how much she pretends to hate the Darkness.” Yurieth answered just as coolly, neither fully answering the questions and both feeling the other withholding information. “Why do you hate her? Fleur, I can feel that you hate her as much as I do.”

Fleur’s jaw tightened as she gritted her teeth, “She is the future queen of the shadows, Princess Demona is allied to the Dark Prince, when they hold us all captive and after we escape, she becomes the host of the being we call the Dark Oracle Entity. She is the only person in the war, I enjoyed killing.”

Yurieth stared at her shocked at her confession, but she did not look away, “We need to go. The Shadow is compelling them to look for me, I could feel it whispering to Prince Lucif and Lord Canus.”

“You can feel the shadows?” Yurieth demanded.

“Can’t all oracles?” Fleur answered with a question.

Then Abrieth intruded on their dispute, ‘Brother, why are you not leaving? Demona is demanding to know where Fleur is and Serapha is not going to be able to keep her convinced to help search the maze for long.’

‘We are going now.’ Yurieth snapped back, then to Fleur he said, “We will finish this discussion at the manor.”

Taking off his coat, he wrapped the dark brown velvet of his court clothes over her dress then lifted her like a bride. His powerful strides carried them from roof to roof and over the wall. A block away from the royal palace, he dropped to ground but did not set her on her feet.

“We will have to walk out over the bridge,” He said as they moved with a few others toward the exit bridge over the southern moat. “Pretend to be asleep and I will carry you out.”

A large man wearing the black and orange-red of the House of Baalru, stepped in front of them. “Leaving so early Lord Yurieth, and taking the most beautiful of the ball with you?”

“Lady Fleur is tired and my mother, High Lady Yllumina, asked me to take her home,” Yurieth answered flatly.

“Surely you jest, the young do not tire so easily,” the man sneered. “And so few have gotten the pleasure of a dance.”

“Lady Fleur’s heart, like her eyes, are not as strong as ours. She gets overtired easily.” Yurieth assured the man. Repeating the story planned in case Fleur had to depart the ball early.

Fleur raised her head slightly, in a whiney, childlike voice, she complained, “Yuri, I’m tired. Mother said to take me home. Why are you chatting?”

“It is fine, Fleur, go back to sleep. We’ll be home soon. Excuse me, Baalru.” Yurieth stepped around the man and stalked toward the street that held the manor of Adamos.

“He’s not following, he went back inside the palace grounds,” Fleur whispered as she lay in his arms unmoving.

“You can keep track of people well.” He said, almost without moving his mouth. He did not want to speak to her mind, he did not want her to feel how much he was enjoying holding her.

“His darkness is like a beacon on the sea, Lord Canus is eating with the King, and Prince Lucif... Prince Lucif has hidden himself from me.” Fleur sounded annoyed. “There is a man following us above the level of the street.”

Yurieth shifted her slightly, as he opened the gate. “I know, a Xelusian Assassin guild member, he must be very young or very unskilled. Do not worry, the enchantments that protect the manor cannot be breached by someone carrying darkness.”

Once inside the manor, Fleur followed Yurieth upstairs. “What does she look like here?”

“Who?” he asked even though he knew of whom she inquired.

“Demona. Is she beautiful?” Fleur persisted, following him into the library.

Ignoring her, Yurieth lit the fireplace and settled into a chair with a random book.

“Yurieth,” Fleur tapped her jeweled shoe impatiently.

“She is very tall and thin. She tints her hair to look like Serapha’s, she has cranberry-colored, almond shaped eyes. Her lips are full and there is a small scar on her lip from where her grandmother, the previous dark queen struck her.” He paused because she was regarding him intensely.

“She sounds beautiful.”

“She is until you spend time with her and then you would begin to see the darkness in her.” Yurieth sounded regretful.

Fleur sighed and turned slightly toward the fire, “I take it you didn’t see it at first.”

“No.” Yurieth’s calm immediate admission surprised her. “Because she and her sister and her father helped us bring an end to the reign of the Blood Mages, I thought she was different. When she could not seduce me to do her will, she tried to use siren’s magic on me.”

Fleur snorted in contempt. “Siren’s magic doesn’t work on Huntsmen who can heart heal.”

Yurieth cocked his head at her, “You seem to know a lot about my magic, Fleur.”

“Does she live on Aetheria or on Xelusia?” Fleur changed the subject.

“I believe she splits her time between the worlds,” Yurieth watched her tapping her fingers on her hip, then her fingers seemed to fidget with the folds of her dress, contemplatively. It was an innocent gesture but had a seductive effect.

“How long does it take to travel between the worlds?” Fleur asked.

“A day plus two hours,” he answered as his eyes watched her fingers trace the folds on her hips. “Why?”

“I... I think I might need to go there... To examine the Gate of Shadows Odini told me about,” She whispered. "Just to be sure."

Yurieth could feel her mind working on something intently, as she was almost completely unaware of her surroundings. He asked softly, trying to compel the truth from her, “Tell me of our imprisonment, Fleur. Tell me so I will know how to protect us.”

“No.” Fleur said automatically, her mind suddenly completely focused on him.

“Why not?” Yurieth demanded.

“Just no, Yuri.” She snapped. “I will be captured, I will find you, after I escape I will return to rescue you. Have hope.”

“How can I have hope when I have no information?” He snarled at her.

She blinked slowly at his hostility. “Good night, Yurieth.” Turning, she walked out of the room, her shoes clicking as she went down the hall.

Less than ten minutes later, he heard the swish of her dress as she came back, barefooted. “I can’t find Madge, or anyone else awake. Can you unbutton my dress? I can’t get out of it unaided. I tried.”

Her frustrated tone almost made him laugh, shaking his head, he laid his book aside. “Come here.”

The tiny fasteners were hidden in the folds of her intricate dress. It took him several minutes to find them all, leaving her back completely bare. In the firelight, he could see the slightly raised texture of her scar, almost invisible on her pale skin, so different from the first time he saw them darkened by evil. She shuddered as he traced them with his fingertips, he couldn’t help his fascination.

“Serapha said these were made with some kind of chains.” His warmth lingered on her skin as he spoke.

“Yes,” she answered in a breathless whisper. Her eyes closed at the sensation, it had been so long the last time anyone had touched her scars with such gentle intent and that someone was his future self. She stood perfectly still, not wanting the sensation to end.

“Did it hurt?” He slid the dress off her shoulders, tracing the scars where the dark prince had bled her for his blood altar, then the swirls that looked like new vines in spring.

“Yes.” She made herself reveal her tortured truth. “I was kept chained so I couldn’t escape, so I couldn’t use my light. The chains burned like ice against my skin every time I moved or breathed. They would hold me while I was tortured, while I was cut so I would bleed into a blood altar, so he could steal my power. The chains were supposed to make me submit, but I was difficult.” Fleur laughed bitterly, shaking her head slowly. “He would kill me just to see if I would scream.” She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled sadly through the tears that wet her cheeks, “You took care of me after he hurt me.”

Pulling her into his lap, he cradled her looking into her clouded lavender eyes. Then he whispered into her hair, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t stop them.”

Holding her, he could smell her scent of flowers and citrus wood. She had been so strong, but in this moment, he could see how broken she was. He could sense how vulnerable she truly was then, how frightened that she loved him now. They both feared what that love could mean. It was then he kissed her. It was slow at first and then all the restrained passion and subdued love poured out of them. As he kissed her, he felt like he was breathing light, or perhaps drowning in passion. It had never felt this way with any of his previous lovers or with his late wife, Roserae. He didn’t want it to stop and neither did she, as their hands and lips explored each other.

Somewhere in the house a baby cried, and Fleur jerked her lips from Yuri’s. She was straddling him in the chair now, her dress bunched around her waist. Her hands had unbuttoned his shirt and were threaded through his long, golden hair. Her naked breasts pressed against his heaving bare chest. His hands were frozen, one against her back pressing her against him, and the other cupping the curve of her neck. They were both panting as they listened to Kalyssa crying, and the murmur of her nurse. Everything about this moment was wrong.

“Fleur,” he breathed her name almost like a prayer, begging her to stop and hoping she wouldn’t in the same heartbeat.

Pulling away slowly, Fleur gathered her dress over her nakedness, “I should go to my room before we do something, neither of us is ready for the consequences of.”

Yurieth watched her retreating through lidded eyes, barely veiling his desire. He had relaxed his guard and almost acted without honor. He couldn’t trust himself, not with her so close. Just as she reached the door, he spoke in a husky voice, “Lock your door, Fleur.”

She turned and ran from their passion because she did not trust herself to do what was right.

He listened to her footsteps fade and cursed himself. Standing, he walked over and gripped the stone mantle of the fireplace, willing himself not to go after her. He knew she was right, they weren’t ready for what had almost happened, but the reckless, rebellious part of his soul didn’t care. It wanted Fleur, all of her. As he breathed slowly, trying to regain mastery over his emotions, he wondered why she had to be so perfect, feel so wonderful to touch, to kiss. She was beautiful in every way, even when she was killing some Xelusian scum, and he longed for her light in his dark brooding loneliness. Again he reminded himself, this was not the place nor the time to let his feelings get the better of him. A cataclysm was coming.

He felt Abrieth nudge his mind through their twin link and snapped, ‘What?!?’

‘We are on our way back, I didn’t want us to... interrupt anything.’ Abrieth answered in a sheepish tone, and Yurieth almost groaned, realizing his brother had sensed his and Fleur’s moments of passion.

‘There is nothing to interrupt, brother! I am reading and Fleur went to bed,’ Yurieth responded dryly.

‘Alone? Are you mad, brother?’ Abrieth’s concern was felt as much as heard.

‘I have my honor, but I think I hate myself.’ Yurieth’s flat answered made his brother laugh. ‘Shut up, Abrieth.’

Then Yurieth blocked himself from everyone and went to his room where he tossed and turned. Getting up before dawn, he left for the Winter Castle through Fleur’s portals. He needed to be in the forest of his home.

Not trusting herself, Fleur turned and ran down the hall away from Yurieth and the smoldering desire in his eyes. He had looked at her that way once before, when they were both drunk and grieving after the war had ended, after they had been deceived into falling in love by one of the Dark Prince’s soul traps. Tonight, she had let him touch her scars again, because he was the last one to touch them on a night they both regretted the morning after. Her walk of shame had taken her away for thirty years and after that, they were just friends. Neither knew what to make of that night, so they never spoke of it and treated it like it never happened.

Slamming and locking the door, she sank to the floor, pressing her fingers against her kiss swollen lips. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she berated herself in her birth language. “Dammit, Daisy. Not until you go home. You know better, you have too much work to do. Save it for the shield magic.”

She scrubbed the makeup from her skin quickly and changed into heavy clothes. Reaching out, she felt Yuri talking to Abe and used the moment to flee through the portals to the Tear worksite, where she spent the night working in the freezing cold on the power relays. Pushing every feeling from her mind to work was all she could do. Yet her mind, kept returning to those moments when their flesh was pressed together in passion and twice she almost electrocuted herself. She cursed herself for losing focus in the face of temptation. Duty first, love later, had always been her mantra but she had been alone for so long... She just wanted to feel loved again.

Near dawn, Abrieth arrived and dragged her back to the manor on Serapha’s orders. Serapha put Fleur in a healing bath and put her to bed. She was exhausted and suffering from eyestrain to the point blood and tears shared the path down her cheeks. She couldn’t even help Serapha make the Healing Water of Light because Yurieth still had her oracle stone in the pocket of his knife sheath. Lying in bed, she wondered where he went. Wherever it was, it was far away, and it was snowing there. He felt conflicted and sad, so she sent her feelings of love to him through her stone, charging it. She hoped he could feel it. She hoped that he felt the same way.