Reign (Roam Series, Book Six) Read online

  The same guard who’d relented earlier finally nodded, allowing me to close the bathroom door. I guessed he didn’t want to see me vomit again any more than I wanted to vomit myself.

  “He’s dreaming. About Asher. He has been for weeks,” Will hurried, under his breath, and I nearly shrieked, pressing my ear to his mouth.

  “Is he teaching him magic?”

  “How did you know?” Will responded in a rapid whisper, and I pressed us to the wall as far away from the door as possible.

  “Will, I don’t think it’s just Christopher,” I rushed. “Before I took away my father’s memory… I think he possessed magic. I think he still does. If I’m magical because of my grandfather, it would make sense that my brother and my father also possess magic.”

  “Then you’re not alone.” He took my fingers into his hand, lifting them to his lips. “Eva, if your brother dreams of Asher, it is possible that your grandfather still lives.”

  I nodded as the bathroom door burst open, and Eric pushed his way inside. The guard who’d let me close the door lay in a bloodied heap on the floor, and I stared at him in revulsion.

  “Never alone. Have I made myself clear?” He hissed at Will. I felt my husband’s grip tighten around my waist.

  “I will sleep with her tonight. She is very ill, and requires attention,” he pressed a comforting kiss to the crown of my head.

  “I will have a maid see to her.”

  “Is my brother being cared for? Is he eating?” I begged, playing into the role of the weak, pregnant woman as much as I could stomach.

  “Valerie sees to his needs. She has developed quite a fondness for him, I’d say,” Eric grinned, his malicious eyes yellowing.

  Valerie- my maid? I hadn’t seen her since we’d come back, and assumed she’d been put to death with the other servants. “Val is okay?”

  “I needed something that your brother valued… so that I may use him as I intend to. Since he valued nothing but revenge, this arrangement is working out quite nicely.”

  My brother- falling for a girl? “He won’t do anything you want him to. My father taught him to fight with no liabilities.”

  “And the hormones of a seventeen-year-old boy will override your father’s teachings, young Eva, mark my words.”

  “I’d like to choke your fucking words right in your throat.”

  “Eva,” Will warned, tugging me closer.

  “Mind your tongue, bitch,” Eric growled, turning to speak to the other guard for a moment before leaving the bedroom.

  Two new guards ushered in, pointing their weapons at Will. He turned to me, lifting me against him and covering my mouth with his. I wanted to cling to him and refuse for him to leave, and cry, and maybe even start a fire in the middle of the bathroom, but there was nothing I could do without igniting Eric’s wrath.

  “I love you,” I managed, frustrated tears filling my eyes. With a small wave of my fingers, I drew a circle of smoke around our faces, giving us a second of privacy… just enough for me to whisper, “tell Christopher to dream of me.”

  He nodded as the smoke dissipated, and I turned and dropped to my knees at the toilet, heaving.

  Chapter Eight

  Roam

  “Mina.”

  His voice. His eyes, his hands.

  His mouth.

  The webby blackness began crawling over my vision before I could even register that I was holding my breath. I swayed on my feet, and he caught me before I could fall. “Mina, you are well?”

  His breath was the same, hot, sweet, and I cursed myself for not being the strong woman that I’d intended to be the moment I saw him again. He was lifting me into his arms, and I could feel my body shutting down.

  “Breathe!” West’s voice jolted me, and I gasped, searching for him in the room.

  “You will not speak to her harshly,” Troy snapped at West as I finally gained some lucidity.

  Troy.

  I was in his arms.

  He was carrying me.

  I knew he was only eighteen, but he was just as tall as before, broad shouldered, raven hair and those same piercing blue eyes. Youth had preempted the malevolence that would find him in a few short centuries, and my mind slipped back into the time when I would wait for him to come to our room.

  Needing him.

  I uttered a small cry, feeling for the bed beneath me as he lowered me to the pillows. “Troy,” I managed, taking deep, calming breaths.

  “My lady,” he smiled, a smile that was innocent, and trusting.

  And filled with anticipation.

  “It has been… too long,” I spoke slowly, assessing his features, his expression.

  Handsome. Calm.

  Gentle.

  “It has,” he agreed, his fingers drawing over the exposed skin on my arms soothingly. “My men tell me that you were very ill on the journey. I shall see that you are provided with plenty of fresh air and nutrition. West,” he turned slightly. “You will have a safe voyage, my friend. My future queen is too weakened to see your crew off-…,”

  “No! No, I’m coming,” I sat up quickly, and Troy reached for my wringing fingers.

  “Are you certain this is wise? You are quite pale, my love,” he admonished.

  I turned to West, watching his calculated control. I knew that tick in his jaw, watching the fire rage in his soul as he watched Troy coddle me on the bed. Fury had him nearly panting, and all our attentions were drawn as Logan stepped forward.

  “They have to go, your majesty. Now.” Logan said, turning to West, giving him a heated glare. “As your personal guard, your highness, I will protect you at all times, until Sir West returns to resume his duties.”

  “One week,” West managed to growl, and I narrowed my eyes as the rumble of stone in the castle jerked my body. Troy looked up, watching the icicle chandelier tangle together in the strange, impromptu earthquake.

  “Tremors,” he explained, turning back to me. “They occur most frequently here. Have you them in Madreenon?”

  “I… no.” I turned to West.

  And nearly screamed.

  The same blue eyes I’d gazed into for years were clouded with swirls of amber…

  The color of Eva’s magic.

  The shaking… the same tremors that had rocked my bed when he’d thrown a chair at the wall.

  Did he do that?

  “We go.” He snapped, bowing to Troy and Logan before turning for the door.

  “Safe travels,” Troy ordered as the tremors began to dispel, and he looked back once.

  Blue again. I let my eyes fill with tears, and he forced a smile to his face.

  “One week,” he repeated, and I knew he was speaking to me, and not his king.

  And then he walked away.

  I turned to Troy. I turned to the man who had tortured me, raped me, and kept me prisoner for months, nearly killing me.

  And I saw a boy.

  “It is improper that we be alone,” he threaded his fingers through mine, sighing. “For this week of celebration, of preparation, I shall court you in public. My brother and your ladies shall always accompany us. Honor and respect,” he assured me, drawing my fingers to his lips.

  As his mouth touched my knuckles, I cringed.

  A small, dark flame flickered to life in my soul, corroding my body like a virus.

  He saw my eyes, recognized my disgust, and pulled away.

  “You are not who I remember,” I spoke gravely. Logan looked ready to punch me in the face, but I recovered quickly as the hurt and confusion passed over Troy’s eyes. “I am happy to be back in your arms,” I corrected, forced.

  He regarded me carefully, searching my expression.

  “It is I who is most fortunate,” he stood and bowed, swallowing hard. “We shall walk in the gardens before the feast tonight. The ground is frozen, but the winter roses are blooming.”

  I knew what was coming.

  As his mouth lowered, his lips caught mine.

  I was slammed b
ack into the castle nightmare, ashamed and revolted as my body instantly recognized his kiss. Tilting my face upward, I knew he would draw my lower lip into his before moving down my throat.

  And he did.

  I hated the familiarity. I hated knowing I’d succumbed to him, given in to him, and let him abuse me in ways I’d spent years trying to forget.

  “Soon,” he murmured against my skin, and I nodded weakly. He turned from the room, speaking to Logan before disappearing into the dark corridor.

  Sitting upright in the bed, I met Logan’s eyes.

  “What a fucking nightmare.” He growled, giving me a once-over before stalking to the hallway.

  I balled the skirt of my gown into my fists.

  And I hated.

  West was gone, and the charade had begun. I burst to my feet, pacing.

  His eyes. The tremors.

  Magic.

  I need to find Asher. Hurrying to the door, I collided with Logan as he stood outside my chamber. “You’re here?”

  “I’m not leaving you alone,” he grumbled.

  “I’m going to find Asher.”

  “Now?”

  “Logan, didn’t you see West’s eyes? The shaking, the tremors? He has magic, and he doesn’t even realize it,” I was already half running down the stone hallway, shocked at how easily I remembered the corridors and passageways. I even recognized a few of the tapestries, recalling that I’d used them as markers to help me find my way through the castle.

  Logan kept up with me, groaning. “I knew that sonofabitch had to have used something to make you fall for him seven fucking times.”

  “Just love, Logan,” I corrected, gathering the heavy skirt in my hand and climbing the tower steps.

  “Why hasn’t he been using magic all along? I can think of about twenty situations it would have come in handy-”

  “He’s from here. From this time.” I spoke under my breath. “Maybe because… he’s from this world. Maybe just being here… in his body… he’s remembering.”

  “But so are we, right?”

  “Our souls. Not our bodies.” I found the old tower, glancing around. We were alone. “When he came for me, in the castle… in the chaos, the music, the gunfire… he won. He killed everyone in his path. Hundreds of soldiers against just the three of us, and then I went off to fight Troy alone. Haven’t you ever wondered how he did that?”

  He stopped, freezing. I watched his mind turn over my words. “When you were lying there, dying… the floor was shaking, Roam. The whole fucking dungeon was shaking. I thought… it was just… just me, or the music, or…”

  I closed my eyes, trying to remember back to that moment, as he held me in his arms.

  “Asher was so old, and weak… and he put his hand on West’s shoulder… and turned back time.”

  “What if Asher didn’t do it… what if West did? Or they did it together?” I realized, retreating to the wall to rest my head on the stone. “I was dying. West took my pain away. I remember the moment he did that… and then he said the date… August something… and he took my hand… he…,” I rushed across the corridor to the window, watching the enormous ship pull away from the dock. “Asher was too weak to do it alone. He couldn’t even free himself from the dungeon, how could he have the strength to create such a spell? One that turned back time- in two worlds?”

  “Roam…”

  “He doesn’t even know,” I wrung my hands together, wishing my wedding ring was still on my finger. “He doesn’t even know what he’s capable of. He could get us out of here.”

  “So, Eva plays music and sets shit on fire, and West causes earthquakes. How is that going to get us out of here?” He pointed to the looming, wooden door. “Asher?”

  “Yes.”

  I knocked, and after minutes of silence, I knocked again.

  “Maybe he’s buffing his wand.”

  “Logan.” I gave him a glare.

  The door opened slowly, and I took a step backwards.

  I’d met this man twice in my life. The first time was in a dream I’d had when I was a prisoner in the castle. He’d been held captive, chained, and he’d helped me realize that he was alive and hidden below the floors of the castle in the dungeon.

  The second time was when we escorted Will home after the Titanic, when we said goodbye for what would be fifteen years.

  Now, clean and kept, his long beard reached his knees. His face was oval, his skin weathered, and his eyes a cataracted blue version of West’s. “The princess.” He smiled, noticed Logan, and then stiffened. I realized he was using his crooked, wooden walking stick to attempt to lower to his knees, but Logan caught him under the arm before the old man could kneel.

  “No, not necessary,” he said evenly.

  “Your highness?”

  “Henry Asher,” I began, pleading with him silently. “May I speak with you in private?”

  Asher eyed Logan, guarded, and I reached for Logan’s hand. “He is my friend. We can trust him,” I tried, deciding that honesty was the best way to speak to Asher.

  “Mina?”

  My heart fell into my stomach. As I turned, Troy approached. His eyes darted between me and Logan in confusion. “Troy…”

  “You have met Asher,” he commented, looking at Logan. “Brother, I’ll see to her highness.” His ice-cold stare swept over me, and I shivered, lowering my eyes to the ground. “If she is well enough to walk, it is I who shall accompany her.”

  “Yes, your majesty,” Logan answered, responding with a low bow before stalking away.

  “Sire,” Asher attempted to lower himself to his knees, but Troy caught him with a kind smile.

  “No, Henry,” he chided, patting the elderly man’s shoulder. “Rest. Your son will return safely. Fear not.”

  Asher bowed again, sending me a fleeting stare before returning to his room.

  The door closed, and I exhaled quickly as Troy was on me in a flash, cupping my face in his hands. His fervent mouth made me stagger. Catching me, his tongue pushed into my mouth and tangled with mine.

  “Mina,” my name sounded like a prayer, and I struggled with the multitude of different emotions raging inside of me.

  Long ago, in the castle, I’d allowed myself to feel comforted by his kiss, his presence, and his rare moments of kindness. Looking back, it’d taken years of West’s patience and gentle loving to learn to heal. The guilt that I’d felt for too long left me needing reassurance that I’d never felt anything for Troy but victimized.

  “Please,” I begged, turning my face. “I have no chaperone. This isn’t right…”

  “My God, but I have waited for this moment, Mina,” he breathed, against my lips. I wondered how eyes so blue could be so unlike West’s eyes… frosted, wintry…

  But… innocent.

  Don’t cry. Don’t start crying, he’ll know it’s not you, he’ll suspect something is wrong. “Walk with me,” I urged, closing my eyes as he backed me against the stone wall.

  “Not yet.”

  Bile burned the back of my throat. “You are not as… powerful… as I remember.”

  My words sliced between us.

  He backed away, and the hardened planes of his face had me instinctively wincing, waiting for his crushing grip on my neck.

  “Powerful?” He asked, stone-faced.

  “I wonder how you control your kingdom, if you cannot even control yourself.”

  His fists clenched, and one eyebrow rose as he regarded me. With a step backward, he pressed his fingertip to his lip before tilting his head. “You are not as I remember you.”

  I wanted to carve this man into pieces, tossing him bit by bit into hell.

  My nagging conscience worked against me. Can he be blamed for what he will become?

  The pain I was subjected to at his hands overruled my last shred of compassion.

  “Am I more beautiful?” I suggested huskily, pressing myself against the cold stone. “More desirable? Have you missed my tongue?”

 
; Tension rolled through the corridor like thick fog.

  Before he could speak, Asher’s chamber door opened again, and the old man stumbled out wearing masses of furs. “Oh, your majesties, you are still here,” he chuckled, gesturing toward the stairwell. “May I have the esteemed pleasure of your escort as I walk to the great hall?”

  I watched Troy pull from every ounce of self-control to nod at the old man. The king then held his elbow out, and I swallowed, sliding my arm through his.

  Halfway down the stairs, my foot slipped, and he caught me with one arm.

  I lifted my eyes, and his face was a breath away from mine.

  Locked in his arm, I forced my chin up, refusing to cower.

  He drew his fingertip along my cheek, smiling slowly. “I have much about you to discover, my Mina. And I intend to explore slowly.”

  Thunder rumbled in the distance, and I turned to the window.

  Lightning flashed in the darkness, illuminating the falling snow.

  Chapter Nine

  West

  I could perform surgery with calculated precision but was now on my third attempt at the knot in the rope, my hands careless.

  He was touching her.

  His disgusting mouth is on hers, and she is afraid.

  Roaring, I pulled at the thick rope, my palms sliding over the cord until the burn drew blood.

  All these fucking years of preparation, and I’d left her. Again.

  I was going back.

  Four days into the journey, we’d finally reached the kingdom that Troy had purchased the sword from and had turned back for Icepond. The inscription on the sword boiled my blood.

  May we forever roam the world and rule together.

  I cursed at the darkening sky. If I don’t return in time, he’ll marry her anyway.

  And she’ll be right back in his bed.

  This time, I didn’t have Eva as a demanding infant to distract me from the thoughts that picked through my mind. His hand on her legs, her stomach, her breasts… she’d be trapped, helpless, and would start cutting herself again…

  The sky blackened, and the sea suddenly became angry. I reached to steady myself on a beam as waves stood taller with each passing second. “Cyclone!” One of the men shouted, just as a wave breached the hull.