LustingtheEnemy (7 page)

No. Not this time. Not without you by my side
.

She stepped forward, clasping the spear embedded in
Vasilous’ torso and wrenching it free, doubling the evil man’s agony. “And
that’s for the children of the
tikal
mines,” she added.

Vasilous blubbered incoherently, blood pouring from his
mouth, his wound. He staggered, and then pure horror flashed in his eyes, as
though he’d witnessed his coming hell. With a vile gurgle, he crumpled to the
ground.

Immune to his comrade’s death, Raffia lunged at the king,
his sword slashing downward, slicing Judas from sternum to hip.

She froze, mouth agape, pulse pounding in her ears.

Judas. No! Please, no!

The king glanced down at his wound, then looked up at her,
his eyes anguished. “I’m sorry, angel.”

Akeisha froze. Then everything came back into sharp,
terrible focus. With everything she had, she screamed. “Judas!”

Raffia power-kicked him in the chest. Blood arced through
the air, following Judas before he sprawled to the ground, his face alabaster
pale, his body gushing crimson.

She sucked in a horrified breath. Her throat closed up, her
voice no longer able to escape past the thick ball of grief lodged deep within.
She shook her head
. No! No, no, no!

Death would be preferable to facing the rest of her days
without him by her side. Days spent remembering the one man she loved…and
betrayed.

“How pathetic,” Raffia sneered, taking a step toward her.
“You survived the desert—had your chance to escape and go back to your
people—yet here you are, choosing to die right alongside a king who’s not even
your own.”

Her stare didn’t waiver from the captain, though movement in
her peripheral caused her breath to hitch, her senses stunned right to the
marrow of her bones. She raised her bloody spear. “Who said anything about
dying?”

“Hey, Raffia.”

The captain spun at Judas’ voice so close and strong behind
him.

Akeisha stepped back, out of the war zone, her spear
clattering unnoticed to the ground from a nerveless hand.

Raffia froze. “So it is true.”

Of course it was true. How hadn’t she realized? Judas’
natural grace. His knowledge of how long a shifter would take to recuperate.
Hell, even his sexual prowess and the way his tongue had roughened and brought
her to climax should have given her a clue.

Even as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place inside her
head, the king’s part-shift had already evolved to full big cat. Twice the size
of any full-blooded panther and as velvet black to the
larakytes
silver
white, he was pure, bristling menace.

His midnight color bespoke a being of legend. A
nightmix
.
A one-in-a-million child born to parents of different species—a human and a
larakyte
gone rogue.

Little wonder he’d not sired any bastard children. If his
mixed birth had been remarkable, then his having progeny would be even more
inconceivable.

With a roar, Judas leapt at Raffia. Panther claws unleashed,
he ripped and slashed into the captain’s flesh, teeth and fangs gouging deep
into his throat.

Chapter Six

Raffia didn’t stand a chance. He died without putting up a
fight, a coward without honor; his throat ripped out and horrified disbelief
etched into every hard crevice of his face.

Judas stepped away, staggered, and then fell to his side.
His mouth and paws bloody, the wound that had been inflicted while in his human
form gushed fresh blood.

He began the involuntary change back into human and Akeisha
forced her limbs into action, sprinting to Judas. In that moment she cared less
he’d lied to her too and kept his true identity from her. In that moment all
she knew was she couldn’t let the man she loved die.

Though shifters wounds healed faster when cells regenerated
and changed, she’d heard a
nightmix
didn’t have that ability. She could
only pray it wasn’t true.

Ripping off her
tuktuk
robe, she collapsed onto her
knees beside him, wrapping the worst of his wound to help stem the blood.
“Don’t you die on me, Judas. Don’t you dare die!”

Behind her hooves echoed through the main tunnel as the
grays galloped after the fleeing soldiers. Treason would undoubtedly be the
rebels’ death sentence, if the desert didn’t claim them first. Both were
clearly preferable over facing their king.

If he survived.

Tears welled. She chocked back a sob. Of course Judas would
live! If he didn’t…she’d die right along with him.

She cradled his head in her lap, refusing to cry, to give in
as she watched his face grow more ashen by the second.

Still her thoughts tangled from one scenario to another. Who
was the king, really? How hadn’t she recognized one of her own?

Because though he wasn’t a human, he wasn’t a shifter either.
Not really. He was a famed
nightmix,
the dark to her light. She
shivered. Judas’ heart throbbed to the beat of a dangerous predator.

Urgent, lone hoofbeats alerted her to the fact one of the
grays had returned. She waited precious minutes as he shifted into his human
form, into eunuch. The one and same who’d guarded the outer palace door.

Striding forward, the eunuch crouched beside her and his
king. “I’m strong enough to hold Judas on one of the other
mylantites
and get him back to the palace. If we can get him to our healer as soon as we
can, he’s got a chance.”

She swiped a gentle hand over Judas’ brow. He was cold. So
very cold. She nodded. “Take him. Please, hurry.”

“And you? Can you ride?”

She turned to him. His forearm muscles bulged, blood and sweat
glistening under the dying torches. “Yes. But I won’t. Take your
mylantites
with
you. The
kyskyts
too. You’ll need to swap horses with your combined
weight, and the eagles will guide you to the most direct route back.”

The eunuch nodded, respect gleaming in his eyes. “We’ll come
back for you, princess.”

The grays returned with clattering hooves. And as the eunuch
lifted the king, she took hold of the brightest torch and shook her head. “No.
I’m going through the secret tunnel. I’ll alert the healer to be ready for the
king when you arrive.”

She didn’t look back at the king, didn’t say goodbye. She
didn’t have any more time to linger. His survival may well depend on her moving
fast and not giving into her fear. Besides which, her full strength was
returning now, like a thick sludge pushing faster through her veins.

She scrambled onto the rock Judas had hoisted her onto such
a short time ago. And torch in hand, she ducked her head and sidled carefully
into the tunnel leading to the palace.

Silence surrounded her. She gritted her teeth and forced her
way through the tomb-like walls that pushed in either side of her, scraping her
back and shoulders raw, her breasts and her knees.

Her sanity.

* * * * *

Judas became conscious of two things. One, that Akeisha was with
him—he’d sense her boldness and warmth of spirit anywhere, and two, the joyous
relief that coursed through him knowing she hadn’t left him—a relief so strong,
so vivid, for a moment it wiped out all pain.

Then a vision intruded—his angel facing off Vasilous and
Raffia with nothing more than a poison-tipped spear.

He sucked in a jagged, pain-filled breath. The physical
stuff he could handle. The emotional, mental stuff, not so much. She’d risked
her life for his. And risked the future of her people had she not survived.

Hope, sharp and sudden, sped through his body, eliminating
despair. Was it possible that she had forgiven him for keeping his secret from
her? Was it possible that…she loved him?

“Angel?” he croaked.

“I’m here, Judas.”

He forced his eyelids apart. Light cut into his pupils, as
though daggers. He closed his eyes, breath hissing from his lungs. “Why didn’t
you…leave while you…still…could?”

Her hands were warm as they clasped one of his, her voice
steady, sure. “You know why.”

His heart lurched. Joy almost suffocated him in its
radiance. Had the impossible happened? Could someone love him, despite knowing
what he carried within? Love the real him? Not the powerful king, but the man.
Words failed to form and, instead, he squeezed her fingers. She squeezed back.

Someone nearby cleared their throat. “She’s not left your
side for two days.”

Fontaine. Healer. Human. And closest ally. He’d recognize
her crisp, no-nonsense voice anywhere.

Two days? He’d been out for that long?

He gritted his teeth, pushing aside the pain lancing inside
his body. “Fontaine. How’d you get to the…caves.”

“I didn’t, Majesty, you were brought here by the
mylantites.”

He squinted, forcing back a wave of torment, where seemingly
a hundred ants trekked across his eyeballs with feet dipped in acid. The sword
Raffia used must have been coated with something highly prohibited.

The bastard had planned his attack well.

Fontaine wavered before his vision, then came into full
focus. A wooden stirrer clanked in a medicinal cup as she infused the herbs she
was about to pour down his throat. She smiled. “You can thank Akeisha for
saving your life.”

He blinked, turning his head slightly until his angel came
into focus. “Brave,” he rasped with difficulty, “fighting off those…monsters.”

Even when the healer held his head up a little, coaxing some
of the foul-tasting chunks down his throat, he didn’t take his eyes off
Akeisha. He’d never get tired of looking at her.

Fontaine withdrew the cup. “She also crawled through the
secret tunnel to warn me of your arrival. I was able to have everything prepped
and ready to use when you arrived.”

Something in his chest warmed as he digested the truth. Not
only had she risked her life for him, she’d faced her fears so that he could
live.

Angel. She really is my angel.

* * * * *

Akeisha stared unseeingly out the alcove windows overlooking
the beautiful gardens and orchard, aware she couldn’t stay any longer. No
matter how much she loved Judas. No matter how much her people needed her to
secure their safety.

Unlike Judas’ loyal servants, she couldn’t hide her true
self. Not anymore.

His mother had evidently had an affair with a
larakyte
—a
rogue—who’d chosen to forsake his own brethren and lust after a human, a queen,
endangering the whole shifter race.

She swiped a hand over her face, feeling almost faint. Of
course humans hated shifters. The queen’s affair had all but killed their once
beloved king. Many must have wondered if Judas was spawned by a
larakyte
despite the odds being so high.

Little wonder Judas had mentioned there were some who’d see
him harmed. Undoubtedly those were the same people who still wondered about
Judas’ parentage, who were still raw from their king failing them.

Just as she wouldn’t be tolerated by any of the humans once
her secret was out, neither would Judas be tolerated by her own people. History
showed the true colors of a
nightmix.
His was a tormented soul, a savage
beast struggling against everything human—until the beast won out.

But now the rebels had been defeated, there’d be no more
questions about his heritage. He’d resume his spot as rightful leader.

She let out a heavy sigh. She wouldn’t be by his side.

Hurt unfurled within. Liars they’d both been, but why hadn’t
he revealed his identity? He’d admitted knowing who she was and yet, he’d
played along with her game, allowed her to stretch out the untruths until she’d
all but bowed over with guilt. Why hadn’t he trusted her?

One of the
cotesh
women placed a bowl of salad greens
and crumbled goat cheese before her. She looked up at the servant, placing a
hand on her smooth, hairless forearm. “Could I ask you something?”

The other woman froze, then nodded. So quiet and withdrawn,
she was the antithesis to her powerful, golden eagle form.

Her fingers gentled on the other woman’s arm. “Why do all
the people of the king’s palace wax their body hair?”

The servant cast a quick look behind her, ensuring they were
alone. “Waxing keeps us all the same.”

“Go on.”

The other woman flushed. “Even in our human form, some of us
have downy, feather-like hair, others have thicker, pelt-like hair.” Her eyes
looked troubled. “It’s for our own protection. At least until the king—”

“Ghiana, that’s enough.”

The servant stiffened, then pulled from her clasp.

Her gaze followed Ghiana as she hurried away. What had she
been about to say?

But all interest fled as Judas stepped before her. He leaned
heavily on a carved cane, bare-chested with his wound dressed in bandages and
the
rakkia
cloth styled into comfortable, loose fitting pants. His face
had paled, undoubtedly from the effort of walking.

She wiped all emotion from her face, her hands curling into
fists to stop from touching him. Guilt pricked her conscience. He’d repeatedly
asked for her, but she’d avoided him since he’d woken. She’d been building up
the courage to leave once and for all.

She couldn’t lose control now.

“Your Majesty,” she greeted coolly, consciously distancing
herself. “You should be resting.”

His inscrutable stare held hers. He didn’t need to say the
words. “I missed you.”

She pulled away from his stare. “Sorry, I—”

“Don’t.” The word exploded from his mouth, harsh,
unforgiving. And as though he couldn’t bear to face, to hear her excuses, he
spun away.

Her attention jerked back his way, her eyes widening at
seeing the faint marks along his spine. She’d created those scratches. Created
the whole hot mess Judas was in now.

Her chair scraped loud in the thick silence as she pushed to
her feet, her salad untouched. “I can’t stay,” she said to his back, somehow
glad he didn’t face her. She just might not have the will to leave.

Silence greeted her news, though his back muscles had
tightened as stiff as his shoulders. He turned to her, his nostrils flared and
his cheeks stained with exertion and barely restrained emotion. “Why not?”

“Your people won’t ever forgive the
larakytes,
nor
shape shifters in general. Not after what happened to your stepfather, their
king.” She lifted her chin. “I don’t intend testing their loyalty a second time
around.”

“You don’t wish to hear my solution?”

She shook her head and stepped away from the table, forcing
back the tears ready to fall. “There is no solution.” She swallowed. Wanting
only to touch him, comfort him. She did neither. She had no choice. She had to
go. “Goodbye, Judas.”

My king.

“Angel wait!”

But she didn’t heed his command. Didn’t stop and turn
around. Not even when she heard his laboring gait, his stick crashing to the
floor.

His half-sobbed curse.

Only when she’d returned to the
mandeolo
and gathered
the supplies she needed for her escape back to the
Scantia
forest, did
she allow the tears to come.

She forced unsteady legs to carry her to the tunnel that
was, ironically, her quickest route home. She’d stay human while water and food
was plentiful, then shift into panther to finish her journey home.

Taking one last look at the room where her body, her heart
and her soul had been brought to life, she whispered, “I’m so sorry, Judas.”