Relinquish: Book II of the Rising Trilogy (28 page)

“Crap.”
 Bastien reaches out to steady me against the wall before wrenching open the door and nearly sends Alesta tumbling into the room.  “I have to go.”

I watch in disbelief as Bastien rushes away, smoothing his hair and straightening his jacket.
 He quickly disappears around the corner.  “Are you alright?” Alesta asks, reaching out to grab onto me before I falter.

I press my hand against my lips, feeling how swollen they are from his touch.
 “He didn’t even say goodbye.”

“Perhaps he couldn’t.”
 Alesta’s smile is soft with compassion.  “I’m sorry, but you must take your place or the King will suspect.”

Nodding absently, I allow her to walk me out of the room and toward the set of double doors that lead into the throne room.
 She does her best to straighten the hairs that have fallen free from my clips, but I hardly notice as the doors swing inward and I am struck with the overwhelming scent of flowers.  

The high ceilinged room is draped in flowers of all colors.
 Some bold with wide petals and large drooping leaves, others are smaller but softer in hue.  I stare in wonder at the cascade of color all around.

Alesta did an amazing job.

I reach back and take her hand.  “At least it’s stunning.”

She grins as she places an all-white bouquet in my hands.
 Aloysius felt it only fitting since I had so graciously agreed to the purple wedding dress.

I am drawn forward by the sound of music.
 The aisle before me seems to flow in endless rows of smiling faces.  I can see beautiful hats with feathered plumes that stretch nearly two feet overhead and men dressed in fine silk suits who dip low as I pass.

The sounds of my shoes against the marble floor
echoes in my ears, although I vaguely realize that it would be impossible to hear over the music.  I keep my chin high and my shoulders back as I walk down the aisle.

Nearly halfway I realize that my knees have begun to quake and I’m dangerously close to collapsing.
 My stomach roils and a sheen of sweat beads along my brow.  A man steps into the aisle, tall and thin and bearing a kind smile.  “May I?”

I blink, surprised by his offered arm.
 Movement behind him captures my attention as I see my mother in the pew, wiping tears from her eyes.  

“Illyria,” the man whispers as I allow him to take my arm.
 That one word, my name spoken on his lips tells me all I need to know.  My father is walking me down the aisle.

I grip his arm tightly in gratitude.
 He leads me with grace and poise, never faltering in his steps.  Looking forward I can see a deep purple runner has been placed over the steps leading up to the altar.  

As we reach the final row of spectators, I get a wide-angle view.
 Aloysius stands regally beside an elderly man, whose graying beard stretches nearly to his knees.  He is draped all in white and a great jeweled necklace-like ornament dangles from shoulder to shoulder.  

I feel the cold wash over me, but just before it takes over completely my gaze shifts onto the person standing just behind my future husband.
 My steps falter.

He has chosen Bastien to be his best man.

Twenty-Three

I stare out of the window, feeling alone as mists crawl down from the mountains, highlighted by the setting of the sun. The ring on my finger and the crown upon my head feel like a heavy burden.

I’m married.

For a year, I have feared this moment. It is identical to my dreams, even to the last detail. I’ve never been in Aloysius’s room before, but I recognize it as if it were my own.

My wedding dress drapes across the chair that sits before a tall, ornate-looking mirror. It wouldn’t surprise me if Aloysius spends a lot of time primping in front of it as his servants dress him each morning.

I turn to look at myself in its reflective surface. My hair is still beautifully woven into a long braid, the strands glittering with jewels that can hardly compare to those nestled in the crown that perches atop my head. It was handcrafted for me, made of the finest metals mined from this land.

My lips are pale rose, glossed and full. The black shadow spread across my eyelids makes my violet eyes seem to glow. My skin is flushed, whether from heat or turmoil I can’t tell. The dress that was chosen as my wedding nightgown is hardly more than a slip of sheer fabric. It falls across the top of my bared thigh and laces down the front. Tiny straps are the only thing giving me a hint of modesty.

Thank God I didn’t have to walk around the castle in this!

I lift my gaze to stare about the room, curling my lip with disgust at its lavish decor. The walls are carpeted in fine silks, draping from ceiling to floor. A plush plum carpet cushions my bare feet as I step back from the mirror.

The windows stretch up to the vaulted ceilings, their glass set in crisscrossing sections, each piece a different color. In the dimming light, they create a path before me of blues, reds, yellows, and oranges.

The air is cool against my skin. Goose bumps rise along my arms as I pace. It won’t be long until he comes. I
can still remember my internal screams as I heard myself speak the vows that bound me to him. Just beyond him I could see the effort that it took Bastien not to leap forward and strike Aloysius down right then and there, but somehow I managed to shake my head.

I remember his eyes widening in surprise and I knew I’d somehow broke through Aloysius’s control. It was only for a moment, but it was something. Something I’ve only dreamed was possible. Maybe I really can learn to shut Aloysius from my mind.

A door opens and closes behind me and I take a breath, preparing myself for what I know will come after. The instant Aloysius steps into sight, I feel the haze fall over my mind and a smile curves my lips.

“My king.” I dip low in greeting as he approaches. I notice he has already removed his shoes as I lower my gaze.

He places a hand upon my arm and lifts me up. His smile is broad as he pulls me to him. “You’re my wife now, dearest. There will be no more bowing.”

I smile hesitantly as he slides his arm around me and pulls me so close I can feel the buttons of his suit jacket digging into my stomach. “Our guests?”

“Are leaving.” He grins, leaning in to press his lips against my temple. He draws back and does the same with the other. His free hand settles upon my waist, his fingers kneading my side. I can feel his growing urgency. “There’ll be no one bothering us tonight.”

That’s what you think.

My smile falters. I can see it in the mirror. Confusion pinches the corners of my eyes as I stiffen in his arms. “Illyria?” I blink and realize he’s looking down at me. “Is everything all right?”

I start to answer, but I feel a feather-light touch in my mind and gasp. Aloysius’s gaze narrows and the touch increases.
I can feel him.

“Yes,” I manage a rather convincing smile and press my hand against his chest. “I’m just… I’m nervous, I suppose.”

His gaze grows tender with understanding as he shifts his hand to hold my chin. He places a soft kiss upon the tip of my nose, like a father would for a child with a cut on her knee. “I promise I’ll be gentle.”

A deep flush rises along my cheeks as the odd touch in my mind fades away. Apprehension ripples through me as he lowers his hand to grasp mine, pulling me toward the bed.

It stands nearly as high as my waist and is circular in shape. A mountain of pillows leans against the curved headboard, each one white but with different patterns. Some with fury patches, some soft as leather, and others shiny. The blanket looks soft and fluid, like water rippling on a moonlit pond. It is made of a black material that I’m unfamiliar with.

Aloysius pauses by the table that stands beside the bed and removes the crown from his head. It glints of yellow gold and clanks softly as he sets it down. He motions for me to come closer and raises his hands to remove mine as well.

The weight of it is freeing as he unwinds it from my hair. Jewels shimmer as they fall from my hair and onto the ground. I gasp and sink down to retrieve them, but Aloysius laughs and tugs me back up. “Leave them. You’re far more precious than those rocks.”

He lightly brushes the back of his hand down my arm. “You have made me the happiest man today, Illyria.”

“And I’m the luckiest woman in the world to have been chosen to be at your side, my king.”

I’m gonna throw up!

He leans back and appraises me again. I smile nervously. “Are you sure everything is okay?”

“I…” I look down, my cheeks flooded with heat of embarrassment. “I’m afraid I won’t please you.”

Really? How lame! Kick him in the groin!

“How could you not?” He sounds surprised. His hands grip my arms as he lightly pushes me down onto the bed. I sink onto the edge of the soft mattress. “You have nothing to worry about, darling. I will guide you.”

I raise a hand and gently run the sheer white curtains that drape over the bed through my fingers. They drift lightly in the breeze, pulling away from my grasp. I turn to look at the window, frowning. “Did you open—”

A terrible crash sends me shooting to my feet. Aloysius pushes me back behind him, facing off with the man who now crouches in a sea of glass. Fear strikes me as I grip my husband’s arm.

My vision.

A strange sensation rolls over me as the man looks up. His gaze sweeps past Aloysius and fixates on me. There is a tugging in my stomach, as if I need to be standing at his side instead of my husband’s. His face is grim, but his gaze is gentle, almost loving.

I feel a sharp stab in my mind and I blink, dazed. I try to clear the haze from my mind as the man rises slowly, rolling his shoulders back. Shards of glass rain down from his spiked black hair.

“You?” Aloysius growls. “I should’ve killed you when I had the chance.”

I turn and stare at the man, confused. “Do we know him?”

Sapphire eyes stare back, and I can see something flicker in his gaze… pain. “She doesn’t know you,” Aloysius gloats, placing himself firmly between us. “Though, it would appear that somehow you two managed to screw with my mind control. I had my suspicions when I saw you take down Drakon in the hall, but I knew the moment I saw the pain on her face when she saw you standing next to me at the wedding.”

Cruel bastard.

Aloysius laughs, openly gloating. “It was one of my better ideas. I could feel your anguish behind me. It made our first kiss as husband and wife that much sweeter, and I have you to thank for that.”

The young man’s back teeth grind. He doesn’t look at me again, and I’m glad. The darkness sweeping over his face makes the hairs on the back of my neck rise. “Who is he, my king?”

“A prisoner who needs to learn his place.”

“Illyria…” I feel an odd stirring in the air just before the man’s face wipes clean of emotion. He stands upright woodenly, as if he were a puppet being controlled by a master.

“What have you done to him?” I ask, stepping back
from my husband. This feels wrong.

Aloysius walks toward the man and pokes him in the chest. No reaction. A malicious smile crosses his lips as my husband turns back toward me. “He is no longer a threat to you, my dear. I’ll have him removed.”

He starts to walk away but stops and turns back. “On second thought, perhaps it would be better to just remove him altogether.”

No! Wake up! Please, wake up!

My hands tremble at my sides as I watch my husband march across the room. He presses a panel on the wall and a door slides back to reveal a secret stash of weapons. I spy daggers, spear-tipped lances that expand out, a circular blade with a metal bar running through the center, and a laser pistol.

Aloysius’s hand hovers over the weapons, skimming back and forth. “My king?”

He glances back over his shoulder at me. “Yes?”

“You won’t hurt him, will you?” I cast a worried look at the man. It bothers me that he is so lifeless. I can barely see him blink.

My husband selects a serrated dagger and closes the door behind him. A trickle of unease flows over me.

You’ve seen this. Wake up! He’s going to kill Bastien.

I blink rapidly, confused.

“It will all be over soon.” My husband’s voice is low and dangerous as he stalks forward. I feel paralyzed as Aloysius lowers his dagger, poised to strike.

“No!” I thrust out my hands. An invisible energy surges from them, knocking Aloysius off his feet. He cries out as his shoulder slams into a bedpost and he crumples to the floor.

My chest rises and falls as I suck in huge breaths, shocked at what I’ve just done. Aloysius is shaking as he rises, his skin blotched with red. I can feel him searching my mind, his touch no longer soft but stabbing. His eyes narrow as he jabs again.

The air ripples before me as I lower my hands and I feel the haze lift. I tap my temple and grin as I bat aside his mental touch. “I feel you.”

“That’s impossible,” he growls, stepping closer. “No one can do that.”

“And yet… I can.” I stretch out my hand and push the boundary of my shield to encompass Bastien. He blinks, coming out of a daze. “You okay?”

“You know me now?”

“Yes.” I smile, wiggling my fingers. He lifts his gaze and notices the shimmer around him. “Huh. Why didn’t we think about that before?”

“Didn’t know I could do it. It’s a new trick.” I train my eyes over the shield, amazed. “I wouldn’t advise stepping out of my—” I cut off as Aloysius drives his shoulder into Bastien’s waist and sends them tumbling to the ground. Bastien hits hard, grunting as he beats against Aloysius’s grasp. I struggle to keep him within my shield, shifting it constantly as they wrestle upon the floor.

“You will not take her from me!” I see the glint of silver a split second before it carves through the air. Bastien cries out as the knife slashes across his arm, leaving his sleeve sliced and dangling from his arm.

His blood seems unnaturally bright as it splatters against the floor. Pain mars his features as he clasps his arm, twisting and turning to try to buck Aloysius off. My husband raises his hand for another swing, and I dive, raking my nails down the backs of his arms. He howls and releases his hold on the knife.

I spin and grab for the knife, but Aloysius snatches a handful of my hair and yanks. My scalp is in agony as I grapple to reach for the knife. My fingertips brush over the blood-slicked handle, but I can’t quite get it. “Bastien.”

He bucks hard and sends Aloysius sprawling to the floor. Several black strands remain between his fingers. I grab the knife and dash to Bastien’s side. He cradles his arms to his chest, his face pale. “You need to get out of here.”

“No.” he shakes his head. I can see his fierce determination. “I’m not leaving until—”

He slams his good hand into my shoulder, knocking me out of the way as Aloysius attacks. They roll end and over, landing punches. The sound of flesh pounding flesh and the shattering of bones makes me sick. I try to find a
way to dive in to help, but they’re tangled together too tightly.

A burst of color reflects in the mirror as I whip around to see a giant fireball spiraling toward the palace. “Duck!”

Bastien and Aloysius don’t hear me. I throw out my hand and mentally shove them aside as flames erupt against the side of the building, spitting molten rock into the room. I cry out as one of the rock shards lands upon my leg, cauterizing my skin.

“Illyria!” Bastien drives his hand into Aloysius’s side and a terrible snapping sound fills my ears. My husband howls and rolls to his side. Bastien scrambles to his feet and throws himself to my side, stomping out the flames igniting on the carpet around me. “Oh, God, you’re burning.”

The scent of my flesh melting makes my head swim. I can feel his hands upon me as he digs the scalding rock out of my leg. Darkness edges my vision. The pain is localized but excruciating.

“We have to get you out of here!”

Another explosion rocks the palace. Over the cracking of stone and hiss of flames, I can hear shouting from below. “Eamon!”

Bastien rises to look out the window and nods. “They’re coming. We have to—” His eyes widen and his mouth gapes open.

“No!” I shriek as a blood-tipped spike shoves through his stomach from his back, nearly three inches in diameter, punching a hole through his intestines. Aloysius’s maniacal grin appears over his shoulder as he shoves Bastien aside.