HE DREAMED OF KARINA.
A memory from his past pulled Delton in, making him wander into the land of deep sleep. Lying on the grass at Inferno’s palace, Karina lying in his lap, he looked so young in his dream. Golden hair cascaded like a waterfall covering his thighs as she read to him. He enjoyed getting lost in the rhythm of her voice. Caressing her silky hair, he pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“Stop distracting me,” she said, giving him a light shove. He smiled, but he noticed she didn’t. She never did.
“All right, finish reading your book. Then, I’m going to kiss you.”
“Why wait?” she asked, placing the book upside down on her belly. Her eyes met his and his pulse quickened. Whenever he looked at her, he felt that spark in his heart. The deep knowing that she was someone special.
Her arms curved around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. He kissed her gently, taking care not to be too forceful. She responded in kind. Lifting her shoulders, she deepened their kiss. They kissed until they heard a distant sound. She broke away first. They could never have enough privacy in the palace.
With bright eyes, she pretended to read her book. He threaded his hand in hers and she accepted after a moment’s hesitation. Spontaneous gestures startled Karina. It was one thing he remembered about her. However, he’d never pushed her, content with whatever she could give him. There was no need to rush. Just being with her made him happy.
Facing the dark skies, he said, “I wish we could stay like this forever.”
After a long pause, she replied, “Forever is a long time.”
Then she began disintegrating in his lap, her solid form turning into a black cloud of gas. Anxiety filled him as he tried to hold on to her. He touched her, but his hand went through, emerging on the other side of the dark fog.
“No, don’t go! Karina!” Hoarse pleas echoed.
But his prayers went unheard. She disappeared, piece by piece, inch by inch, through the dark fog, claiming his memories of love.
“Stop… Karina… please…”
Something solid wrapped around his arms and he felt the weight of it grounding him.
“Delton, Delton! Stop moving.”
Xara’s voice.
He could recognize it anywhere.
She was here. That familiar voice gave him a measure of calm. He slumped a little, feeling a soft, solid weight on his back. His dream was gone and, in its place, there was an awareness of something else.
“Xara.”
When he opened his eyes, it was bright. Unusually so. The curtains were open. Scenting an iron tang in the air coupled with the scent of roses, he groaned at the bright invasion. A blurry vaulted ceiling filled his gaze. His hands were thrashing about in the air, another pair of hands clamped over them to quell his movements.
“Are you awake?”
Xara’s face floated into his vision and his eyes snapped open.
For a moment, he was disoriented. All he remembered was Karina on his lap and the memory of their kiss. However, as he gazed into Xara’s eyes, he remembered who he was. And where he was. Karina had betrayed him, and she was dead. He was married to her half-sister now, who stood over him, wearing a purple gown. She had changed out of her bloodied clothes from last night and judging from the scent of roses, bathed.
“Who is Karina?” she asked, letting go of his hand. He sat up on the bed and noticed that the discomfort and sense of heaviness from last night had vanished. Everything about the attack — the stabbing, bleeding, and her carrying him upstairs— came into focus. He felt the soft pressure of her hand against his shoulder, helping him sit up. Her magic had worked. That was why he was alive.
“No one. I had a nightmare.” He raked a hand through his blood-matted hair, trying to compose his frazzled mind.
“A nightmare? I thought the King of Inferno was immune to them.” Her brown hair was tied back, as usual, and he wondered how it would look undone, laid over his lap as Karina’s had been in his dream.
“Unfortunately not.”
“That name sounds very familiar. I wonder where I’ve heard it.”
“It’s a common name in Escayton.” He tried to swallow his discomfort. Xara had told him that she knew of her half-sister’s existence. Did she know her name too?
“Exactly. You don’t know a lot of people from Escayton.” Her eyes narrowed. “You called out to her in your sleep.”
“As I said, it was a nightmare. What are you doing here?”
She moved away from him, her skirts brushing his exposed arm lightly. He noticed he wasn’t wearing a shirt. She’d taken it off last night to save him. Xara’s cheeks turned a bright shade of red when she realized she had been staring at his naked chest.
“I came to check on you. Looks like your fever is gone. General Darius is waiting outside. He came to report to you. I’ll send him in.”
Eager to disappear, she turned. He caught her hand.
“Wait. I… I need to thank you for last night… for saving my life.” His eyes met hers and he felt the shudder that went down her body. “Thank you for healing me.”
She blinked at him. “It was nothing.”
There was a sharp knock at the door.
“That must be General Darius.” She took a step away. “I should go. You’re free to resume activities. Let me know if you feel any pain.”
Xara left quickly, opening the door with a slow slide. He wanted to look at her longer, to hear her voice, to imagine what it would have been like if he had fallen in love with her instead of her sister. For all her faults, Xara didn’t have a malicious bone in her body. She was forthright. Only a saint would heal someone they hated. She wouldn’t have killed his family and betrayed him as Karina did.
The thought made him uneasy. Had he never given her a chance because she was related to Karina?
“Good morning, Your Majesty.” Darius’ voice pierced his train of thought. His eyes remained glued to the closed door, Xara’s scent lingering in the air. Darius’ eyes followed his gaze. “Should I summon the queen?”
“No.” He focused on his army general, a grey-winged angel with sharp features and smiling green eyes. “Xara said you had something to report to me.”
“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “I have some bad news. Walric is gone.”
“What!?” All the tenderness suddenly turned to rage. “How? I thought you were monitoring him.”
“He didn’t return last night. We followed him to the library and then to a warehouse. He must’ve gotten away from there. The spies found an underground tunnel. We followed it, but it was too late.”
Delton gripped the bed spot angrily. “You cannot be serious. I told you we mustn’t let him get away this time.”
“I’m sorry. Amara is looking for him. Felix is on his way to Skera.”
He pushed the bedcovers away. “I can’t afford to rest with Walric running around. Let’s go to the office, general.”
“But… Your Majesty, I heard a rebel tried to attack the queen last night.” His eyes moved to the healed patch of skin on his stomach. “Are you all right? I heard you were stabbed.”
“I am fine. You know how incredible Xara’s healing powers are. I feel as good as new.”
Darius smiled. “It is worrying that the rebels bear hostility toward her. Shouldn’t we increase security to make sure something like this never happens again?”
“I want every member of this household checked. If there’s another rebel hiding here, find him. And get rid of my personal guards. I can’t trust them.”
“Very well. But you will need new guards.”
“As you know, I am perfectly capable of protecting myself. It is the queen who needs a bodyguard. But I don’t know if I can trust anyone with her after what happened.” He reached for a shirt in his wardrobe, but he didn’t put it on. The image in the mirror revealed traces of blood on his hair and pants. He needed a bath.
“Michael would be up to the task,” Darius said. “He is more than qualified for the job At the very least he won’t stab her.”
“You’re right,” Delton acquiesced. “Why didn’t I think of that? Excellent idea, general. Is Michael amenable to it?”
“I will talk to him about it.”
“How soon can he begin? I’m reluctant to leave her unprotected after what happened last night.”
“Tomorrow. I’ll talk him into it.”
He smiled. That was one problem down. One more to go.
FELIX ARRIVED AT DUSK, just as the sun was setting, scattering orange beams across the office floor. He had visited Felix’s house that morning and, as General Darius said, he was gone. The army and spies were combing Skera for him. Meanwhile, Delton had returned to the office and speak to Felix.
Ever since Amara had given him the reports on Ifer, Delton had permanently taken up residence in her office. That day too, he was leafing through more reports on Ifer. Details of his known transactions, as well as his captured allies, filled the pages.
Felix strode in without knocking, not realizing Delton was the one in Amara’s office.
“Your Majesty.” He bowed upon catching sight of him. His clothes were dusty and crumpled from the long journey. From the way his gray hair stuck out of his small ponytail, it looked like he had come directly to the office instead of going to the guest house.
Placing the pages on the table, Delton stood up. “Felix. You’re here finally. Care to explain how Osric got away?”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I have been running around town trying to figure out how the prison was infiltrated.”
“And what did you find?”
“It was one of Ifer’s men. He was dressed as a prison keeper, pretending to deliver food.”
“How did he get in?”
“He had a key. It looks like Ifer forged a key to your personal prison.”
“Ifer again. How is it that my entire army has failed to catch one man? How powerful can be he?” Delton’s blood boiled. Delton couldn’t shake off the feeling that he must’ve seen the crime lord somewhere; known him somehow. His actions carried a deep meaning. He wanted to best Delton at every turn. “How did he get his hands on a key? Only you and I have it.”
“That is what baffles me. My key wasn’t stolen. You carry yours. Did you perhaps remove the necklace… or could one of your servants have had access to it?”
“Impossible. You know how careful I am with it.”
“I know,” Felix sighed. “The original maker of the lock is dead, and his apprentices are gone too. Nobody knows the design of the prison lock.”
“Have you located the blacksmith who forged the key?”
“No. The key went through several hands before landing in the prison keeper’s. I’m working my way through the chain of transmission, but Ifer managed to cover his bases. He used several innocent people to handle the key to hide his tracks.”
Frustration shot through Delton. He slammed his fist on the table. “We were supposed to have him by now. But Walric is gone, and my prison has been broken into…I can’t let him get away this time. I’m going to end him.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Felix said lightly. “We will do our best to capture Prince Walric soon.”
When he hesitated, Delton asked, “Do you have something else to say?”
“My spies made some unexpected progress on the human trafficking ring in the capital. It looks like Heires, who works with Ifer, has been leading the ring. We finally caught him last week.” Delton raised an eyebrow. “Heires confessed to meeting Ifer two weeks ago. Apparently, he was the one who told Ifer where Osric was. They’ve been meeting in Cadia.”
“Does Heires know Ifer’s true identity?”
“No. He says he’s never seen the person under the mask. He’d kill to know Ifer’s real identity.”
“He’s not the only one.”
“Heires’ capture has given us another option. He has been working with Ifer for a long time. We can use him to bait Ifer.”
“Using a snake to capture one? Heires might use the opportunity to run away.”
“It is a risky endeavor but it might be the fastest way to call Ifer out of hiding. We’ll arrange a meeting with Ifer, posing as Heires. I will escort him there, under my supervision. We will have men on standby to capture Ifer when he shows up.”
“What if he gets away?”
“He cannot win against my men. Heires told us that Ifer isn’t physically strong. He can take on one man or two but without his guards, he stands no chance of winning against us.”
Felix’s eyes surveyed him, waiting for this command.
“It is far too risky. But we are out of options, and I am growing desperate so, I’m going to let you have your way this time.” Felix smiled. “Go about setting a trap for Ifer. Heires will need to be brought to Skera, I presume.”
“He’s already here,” Felix said. Confident bastard. He expected Delton to succumb to his plan, after all. Desperate men were always predictable. And Delton was desperate to wring Ifer’s neck.
“How soon can we move?”
“Give me two more days.”
“All right. I expect results this time, Felix. My patience is running out.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. I plan to take a more active role in the capture of Prince Walric as well. How has the queen been faring? Amara says she saw her at Ifer’s warehouse.”
So Amara had run her mouth to her boss. It was to be expected, he guessed. What was unexpected was the surge of protectiveness that filled him. Xara’s searing, dark gazes filled with hate and honesty had wormed their way under his skin. He didn’t like hearing her criticized because it hurt him. Was it because she’d saved his life? Or was it because somewhere deep down, he trusted her?
“I don’t think we need to be concerned about her. I’ve found nothing linking her to Ifer.” It was a bold presumption. She had made her opinions on Delton’s leadership known. Though she had denied any association with Walric, there was the incident of her being spotted near the warehouse. Could it have been a coincidence, as she claimed? Though he didn’t know why she’d snuck out that night, Delton knew Xara wasn’t malicious. She’d saved his life. Would she have done that if she were helping Ifer?
For years, he’d assumed the worst. But he realized that he might have been unfair to her. Delton hated how she made him question everything he’d been certain about. Every carefully laid plan, every deeply held resentment, and every righteous impulse. She made him wonder if he had been unjustified in his pursuit of revenge.
“Your Majesty?” When Delton looked up, he realized Felix had been talking.
“Yes?”
“That’s all I have to report. Shall I make arrangements with Heires?”
“Yes, you do that, Felix.” He was in a trance, examining and re-examining his motivations.
After Felix left, Delton returned home.
As his carriage moved through the streets, he realized that Ifer was no longer his greatest obsession. It was Xara.
DELTON RETURNED LATE THAT NIGHT, feeling optimistic about Felix’s newest plan. He went straight for his bedroom, but paused when he saw his wife standing outside. After the incident last night, he’d fired all his guards, which left the royal residence rather empty and exposed. Darius had sent two soldiers to guard the building, but other than them, it was only Delton and Xara, and the house staff.
Xara’s eyes caught the candlelight as she looked at him, her hand clutching her door handle. Her lips parted but no sound emerged.
“Good evening.” It was way past midnight. But Delton had begun to realize that he and Xara were alike in that they both couldn’t sleep. However, unlike him, she wasn’t a demon and needed to sleep. How she managed to stay strong despite the lack of sleep was a mystery.
“Hello. How are you feeling?” His body instantly relaxed at the sound of her voice.
“Well, thanks to you. I can’t believe I was stabbed last night.”
She nodded, pushing the knob down. He didn’t want her to leave; to be trapped alone with his chaotic thoughts and the darkness.
“I found you a new bodyguard. He begins tomorrow.”
She frowned. “After last night, I thought you’d be turned off by the notion of bodyguards.”
“I am, but I cannot risk another attempt on your life. You will have a new bodyguard. He will follow you day and night.”
“There is no need—“
“Michael has magnanimously volunteered for the role.”
“Michael? Really?” Her eyes lit up. A deep, tiny part of his heart felt elated at making her happy. She thought he’d been cruel, and he wanted to make it up to her. Not that he needed to. But she had saved his life so he owed her that, at least. Delton knew she’d warm up to the idea of Michael.
“I assume you have no objections.”
“None.”
“It was General Darius’ idea,” he went on. “He’ll keep you safe while I’m away.”
Xara nodded and silence descended. Delton shifted from his right to his left foot. His hand turned the door handle, but he didn’t want to leave her yet. Not to mention, she was staring at him like she wanted to say something. “What is it?”
“I want to finish the conversation we started this morning.” The confrontational gleam was back in her eyes. “Tell me who Karina is. I’ve been thinking about it all day…I’m sure I’ve heard that name somewhere, but I can’t recall where. It’s been troubling me.”
His heart stopped. “It is a common name as I said.”
He could feel himself withdrawing. Any mention of her name resulted in the revival of the trauma he suppressed coupled with a deep sense of grief. He didn’t want anyone to find out how stupid he’d been.
“In Escayton, not Inferno, as I said.” She was a dog with a bone.
“I don’t want to talk about this.” It was a warning.
“Why not? Who is she to you?” When he raised an eyebrow, she went on, “You’ve been calling her name in your sleep, holding me thinking I’m her. As your wife, I deserve to know the truth. Are you having an affair?”
“No.” The insult stung.
“Then what? Why do you keep calling for her?” His fists tightened. “I’m your wife, you owe me an answer.”
She was taking a wrecking ball to his reserves; to the shrine he’d built for his first love.
“Don’t ask for truths you are not prepared to hear.”
“So something is going on.” She appeared hurt. “You said you were faithful to me.”
“I am.”
“Then, who is she?”
Should he tell her? It felt like opening a raw wound. Karina’s betrayal had never quite healed. Dark eyes, the color of wet wood, bored into him and he wondered if this was something she could heal. Probably not. His head fell forward, dislodging strands of raven hair that dangled over his eyes. He had to give her something. She wouldn’t be dissuaded so easily.
It must’ve been the exhaustion. Or the weakness from yesterday’s stabbing. Because Delton didn’t know why else he’d say what he said.
“You once asked me if I’d been in love.” His voice sounded raw. “I have. It was painful. Not something I care to repeat with you.”
She studied him silently, offering no judgment or comment. He sensed that she had stopped breathing, her rich lips parting an inch.
“Was she the one you loved?”
His fingers gripped the door handle. He should deflect her questions, and turn her away with warnings. But Xara had managed to worm her way under his skin. He wanted to tell her everything. Delton hadn’t told anyone about Karina. Her memory had festered in his mind until it had become an unbearable burden. He wanted her to share his burdens.
“Yes.”
“I see.” It was a long exhale. “And…where is she now?”
“Gone. Dead. You don’t need to worry about her. I’ve never been unfaithful to you and never will.”
“That is subjective. If you still love her, you’re already being unfaithful to me.”
“I don’t love her. On the contrary, I hate her.”
“Because she broke your heart?”
“Among other reasons.”
Xara sighed. “Those reasons being?”
He held up a hand. “I think we’ve conversed enough. It’s time for you to retire.”
“You’re avoiding my question.”
“As I said, it is not something I like to talk about. I believe I’ve answered your question.” Before he could change his mind, he turned the door handle and stepped inside his bedroom. “Good night.”
The door shut. He leaned on the wooden surface, listening for her movements. A few seconds later, her footsteps moved. She went to her room and shut the door.
Exhaling a sigh, Delton reached for his bed. The bloody sheets had been replaced, and the floor had been polished. The servants must’ve cleaned the room while he was gone. He sunk into the fresh-smelling mattress and stared at the ceiling. Emotions churned in his gut as he shut his eyes, bringing up the image of Karina.
He remembered her face, her voice, her scent. Time hadn’t been able to erase it. But as he lay in bed, it wasn’t her he craved. It was his wife. His ears were attuned to her movements next door.
Karina had been beautiful like a goddess. Ethereal but cold. So out of reach. But Xara was a siren. Her gaze made his resolve melt. Her voice was a siren’s call, and her body… her body was born to seduce. She was genuine and warm-blooded, and she stirred his soul. With her, he knew exactly where he stood.
Groaning, he pressed his head to the pillow.
He couldn’t be falling for his wife, could he?
