Twin Flames (7 page)

Chapter Eight

The next day Raven decided to tour the castle on her own, but as she stepped out into the hall, Isabella was waiting for her.

“You should really stay in the bedroom. What if the prince has need of you? He is a man of strong appetites.” She smiled, flipping her hair to expose the large mark on her neck. “Who knew he liked his sex rough? I would never have imagined.”

Raven wanted to take Isabelle’s scrawny little neck between her hands and twist. “Devlin did not give you that mark. Go spread your lies elsewhere. I have no need of them.”

Isabelle smiled. “You are so blind. The Council has ordered him to take a mate within the next moon or they will kill him. Why would he not try us each out? Though—” she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “—he has chosen me. I’m not supposed to say anything, but I thought you had a right to know before we make the announcement.”

Raven felt sick. The woman was lying. She had to be. Devlin was in love with her. He may not have actually said the words but…

So lost in her thoughts, she didn’t see the blade in Isabelle’s hand. Didn’t see it until it ripped into the tender flesh of her belly and twisted into her gut. She stared in horror as blood poured free, pooling on the floor.

Isabelle pulled the blade from the wound and slipped it back into her pocket, not bothering to wipe off the blood. She slipped her foot behind Raven’s knees and knocked her to the floor. “You’re better off dead. No one wants you here, not even Devlin. If it wouldn’t kill him, he’d send you back through that godforsaken hole and save us all the agony of your presence. The gods will applaud me for taking your life.”

Raven curled up into a fetal position, trying to stifle the bleeding. Pain pounded into her like rain, taking her breath away. She pictured Devlin in her head, mentally calling to him. Too weak to scream, she watched the blood slide across the floor and down the slight slant in the hallway.

She didn’t want to die.

Devlin was almost to his chamber when he heard the scream. The shrill cry tore at his heart.

Raven.

Mindless, he raced toward the sound, pushing all barriers from his path. He would not think the worst, she was probably fine, just frightened.

His blood froze as he turned the corner and saw her crumpled body leaning against the chamber door. Blood, the color of rich wine, lay in a puddle beneath her, stark red against the white crystal.

She wasn’t dead. He wouldn’t allow it.

He knelt beside her, feeling her weak pulse. “Raven, talk to me,” he pleaded, careful not to move her, yet wanting to scoop her into his arms.

She stared up at him, her eyes bright with pain. “She stabbed me.” She tried to look down at the wound, but flinched at the slightest movement.

Hatred froze Devlin’s heart. Who would dare hurt the woman he cherished? His first thought was of the Council, but he quickly pushed it aside. Their methods had never been cloaked in secrecy. They preferred the people to be fully cognizant of their acts of cruelty.

“Isabella.”

He could barely make out the name as Raven’s voice faded to near silence. Isabella. Chalice’s whore. He would kill the witch.

Pushing past his rage, he ripped off his tunic to bind the wound before tenderly lifting her into his arms. The castle guard had been alerted by her scream, and now they swarmed around them like useless insects.

Ignoring their failed attempts to render assistance, he pushed open the chamber door and carried Raven inside to the bed. She was so pale and lifeless. Blood seeped through his makeshift bandage, soaking into the coverlet.

He would make sure she healed first, but then he would kill the whore responsible. Let the Council try and stop him.

The light was too strong. It swarmed around Raven, circling her aching body, forcing her to open her weary eyes. Why wouldn’t it leave her alone, let her slip back into the welcome abyss?

“Damn you, open your eyes.”

Devlin. What was he doing here? She stared up at him, pain flooding through her wound as she tried to sit. His dark face loomed above her, eyes full of anger and worry. Something was obviously wrong, she just couldn’t remember…

She flinched as a cold hand slipped across her torn stomach. It stopped on her wound.

“She still lives, but the wound is deep. Infection may set in if we don’t cauterize it.”

She wanted to scream, but her throat wasn’t working properly. No one cauterized wounds anymore. It wasn’t the Middle Ages.

“She will not die. Do what you have to do.” Devlin’s voice was harsh. She wanted to grab him when he reached down and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, but her limbs were incapable of movement. “If she dies, I will have your head and that of the whore who did this.”

Raven ignored the argument. She was too busy worriedly listening to the poker as it stirred the fireplace. Surely they wouldn’t…

Devlin’s hand grasped hers as the other man slipped a piece of leather between her teeth. “Hold on, baby. This is going to hurt, but just hold on.”

Pain sizzled into her flesh. Oblivion threatened, but she fought it with all she had, concentrating solely on the hand that was holding hers so securely. She’d probably broken a few of his bones, at least.

She was still conscious when the haze of agony ascended after a few minutes. Afraid to move, she opened her eyes and stared at Devlin.

“It hurts,” she whispered.

He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss against her lips. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone.” His hand smoothed back the strands of hair that had fallen across her face. “Isabella has been taken. She’ll pay for this.”

Raven tried to lift her hand. She so wanted to touch his face, but the movement was beyond her ability. “You saved my life.”

He kissed her again then turned to face the other men. She watched him order them from the room, a tired smile playing at her lips. The pain in her stomach had lessened as if the burning had indeed done some good. But after she recovered, a lesson in modern medicine was in order.

Once the men retreated, the door closed firmly behind them, Devlin turned back to the bed. He ripped off his clothing and climbed in beside Raven.

“Why do they hate me so much?” she whispered, her eyes shut against his masculine beauty. She could not bear to see him, much less touch him, knowing soon he would belong to another.

“They do not hate you. Not everyone. Only those that are too closed-minded to see sense.”

She shook her head, remembering the words of the Council. “They want me dead.”

“It doesn’t matter what the Council wants. The time is coming when their threats will come to naught.” He cupped her chin in his hand, hovering over her still frame. “You must trust me. I failed you this time, but no more. Soon, everything will be as it was meant.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, but tears still trickled down her cheeks. She wanted to believe him, but how could she. She had almost died. How much more was she supposed to endure?

***

Isabella lay on the cold stone floor, her slender wrists bound tightly in iron. Devlin stared down at her with an all-encompassing rage. If he condemned her to death, he was no better than those he fought against.

“Banish her,” he whispered. The words bounced off the stone of the wall and floor and echoed in the tiny chamber.

Those behind him murmured in agreement as he turned to face the Council. “Banish her,” he repeated.

“She did nothing wrong.”

The voices of the crowd rose in uproar. Devlin stood before them, face to face with the Flame of the Council. He had anticipated this reaction and was ready.

“You—” he pointed at the men seated before him, “—are a disgrace to our people and your race. You have ruled by tyranny for centuries, destroying all hopes for my people.”

“Silence.” The Flame rose, his white, withered hand writhing in the air. “You will die for such talk.”

Chalice stepped in front of Devlin, arms crossed. “No. My brother speaks the truth. You have wreaked too much destruction to be allowed to continue. The monarchy historically holds rule over the people and will do so until a new Council can be appointed.”

“Treason,” the Flame screamed. The other members of the Council sat behind him, shifting in their seats, their fear apparent. “You will be killed for this. Guards.” His features contorted when the guards did not answer his call, but instead came to stand beside the brothers.

“Your reign is over. Either accept it or we will make it so by whatever means necessary.” Chalice motioned for the guards to move forward.

Devlin realized he needn’t have feared the reaction of the people. They stood behind him cheering, supporting the rebellion. They too had had enough.

“Guards,” he yelled, “arrest these men.” He turned to Isabella. “And banish this woman.”

The crowd erupted yet again, cheering as the Council members were led away. Devlin clasped Chalice on the shoulder. The first part of the prophecy had come to pass. Now, if only they could survive the second.

Chapter Nine

It took three weeks before Raven could ignore the pain enough to venture outside the chamber. She had been allowed no visitors. Rebellion raged inside the castle walls. The overthrow of the Council had many celebrating, but there were still those that would see Devlin and his brother dead, and the balance of power restored.

The wound in her stomach still ached at even the slightest movement, but it had healed well, no infection in sight.

Devlin came to her at night once she was asleep, but barely any words had been spoken between them. She knew he was embroiled in a great deal of work…but she missed him.

She picked her way around the chamber that had become her home, praying she was strong enough to survive the walk down the corridor. She had to know what was happening, had to know what it meant for her and Devlin.

She had just made her way to the door when it crept open, a head peeking inside.

“I had thought you’d be asleep.” Devlin smiled. “I should have known better.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God he had come to her, she didn’t know if she’d make it much farther. He hurried to support her when she leaned against the wall.

“You shouldn’t be out of bed.” He swept her into his arms and laid her down. “You’re too weak.”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

He eased his long body beside her on the bed and pulled her close, careful not to brush her stomach. “What is it, love?”

The warmth of his body sank into her skin and she sighed, snuggling closer. “Tell me what is happening.”

He took a long breath. “We’ve replaced the Council.”

She looked at him in confusion. “I thought the monarchy had taken over?”

“Only temporarily. Our laws revolve around the existence of a Council and the laws work well as long as the Council isn’t corrupt.” He smoothed her hair away from her forehead and pressed his cheek against her face. “I had a vision the day I was banished. I saw the overthrow of the Council and knew it was the only way peace would ever be established. Chalice tells me the people have been awaiting my return, waiting for me to free them.”

“Why didn’t Chalice do it, if he knew that’s what they wanted?”

He shook his head. “It wasn’t his place. Our people strongly believe in visions. They would not have followed him. They would have seen my failure to return as a sign it wasn’t mean to be.”

It seemed crazy, but she knew what he said was true. In the little time she had been in this society, she had learned that they did nothing without a sign or a vision. She shrugged off her confusion. There were things she must know.

“What about me? Will the new Council let me return home?”

“Raven—”

“No. I want to know.”

“I intend to ask for their permission to take you as my mate.”

“But—”

“No. I didn’t press the issue before because I knew what was coming. The new Council will be fair and just in their decision. I will abide by it.”

“And if they say no?”

He paused. “Then I will do everything in my power to break the bond between us so you can go home.”

***

Damn Devlin and his infernal beliefs. It had been weeks since the new Council had taken control and still no resolution as to her fate.

Raven paced her rooms. She could not believe this was happening again. Her time here was a nightmare that kept repeating, over and over until she was close to losing her mind.

Damn the Council anyway. So what if she wasn’t just like them? They had no right to relegate her to the position of whore.

The door swung open.

“Go away.” She turned her back on Devlin. Anything she said would just be hateful, and deep down she knew it wasn’t his fault. He was just acting on his own beliefs.

“Raven.”

“Let me guess. They won’t send me home either?”

“There’s no way to break the bond. They would if they could.”

“But they can’t,” she finished.

She shoved him away as his arms reached around her waist.

“Don’t do this. This will not change our relationship.”

“You’ve got to be kidding. You’re going to be sleeping with another woman.”

“But I love you.”

As a romantic declaration, it wasn’t the best she’d ever heard. She pushed at his arms, but he held tight. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t make me live like this.”

“Raven…”

She pushed at his chest. “Don’t, Raven me. Empty declarations of love are not going to get you into my bed.”

The fire in his eyes stopped her. “You will not mate with another man.”

“Why shouldn’t I? I’m allowed to. Isn’t that what the Council said? I can find a mate outside the royal family.”

“I’ll kill him.”

“Oh, now that’s princely. Way to serve your people, killing them off.”

One look told her she had pushed him too far. He lifted her from the waist and flung her onto the bed. “Another man can’t give you what I can,” he murmured into her neck as he placed himself above her. His hands ripped the skirt from her trembling legs. She trembled as his finger traced the damp flesh of her pussy. “No one else will ever make you this wet.” His finger pressed inside her vagina. She arched against it, unable to help herself.

“Damn you,” she whispered. Her arms grabbed his head and pulled her to him. “Damn you to hell.”

Their mouths intertwined, her hands yanking at his pants to free his thick cock. His finger wasn’t enough. She wanted to feel the solid length of him pulsing inside her, driving her insane with sensation.

He pushed her hand away, his cock at the entrance of her vagina. “Tell me, Raven. Tell me you won’t mate with another man.”

She could feel the firm tip of him tickle her sensitive flesh and she cried out. She wrapped her legs around him to pull him inside, but he resisted.

“Tell me, damn you,” he demanded.

“I swear.”

He plunged inside her all the way to her core. She jerked off the bed, screaming with pleasure, orgasm breaking over her in waves. She could fell the wetness of her own juices running down her thighs, coating him as he plunged and plunged.

God. She loved him. She needed him. What the hell was she going to do?