Chapter 9
Bael
Murder is such a dirty word. I prefer the term… removal of certain obstacles.”
—ZYLA BASHKIRIA
“Iwon’t rest until I kill the Beast of Kerawan.”
I watch Zyla sleep, her words circling through my head as I idly carve the bark from a thick branch I found. It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s sworn to kill me. It’s the duty of a warlord to earn a list of enemies that could paint his skin black with ink. We become the shield of our families, our people, and I have made myself ruthless enough that few now dare tangle with me.
But I’ve never met her before. I swear it.
I’d remember the flashing fury in those eyes, that shy smile that blooms into a breath-taking grin, the outrageous quirk of her eyebrows that speak so many unspoken words. Her face and form would never be contained by the mere word ‘beauty’ but there’s a wildness there that captivates, a certain defiance that intrigues. Being with her feels like a free fall from a canyonledge, arms spread wide as the shift begins, breathless, wings spreading as the fierce shriek of pure joy lights through you…
Unforgettable.
That’s the word I’d use for her.
I’ve never understood what it meant to yearn for something before I laid eyes on her, pacing that cell, spitting defiance.
But Imustforget her.
“Kasaros,” I bellowed, slicing the dagger down the centre of my palm, blood dripping onto the God’s small statue the day my mother gave her last breath. “Give me the strength to protect my home, my brothers, my people…”
The God appeared, his mask drawn in a cruel smile. “A God does not offer gifts. A God offers bargains. What do you have to offer, child?”
“I am not a child,” I’d said, shoving to my feet, my youthful heart beating with hope and defiance, as the sounds of the catapults outside unleashed, rocks hammering at our walls. My arms shielded the small screaming bundle within them. “What do you want?”
And the God had smiled. “I will grant you strength, boy, but in return I will take that which will only weaken you. You will stand forever alone, your people’s shield against your enemies. But in return, you will sacrifice the promise your mother gave to you. You will take no mate. You will birth no heir. You will know no love. I will make you strong, Baelfyre, the way a man must be strong. Let not the weakness in.”
“Agreed,” I had whispered.
And then I was left with nothing but the silence of my mother’s blood-drenched chambers as the God vanished, before my youngest brother squirmed in my arms, screeching with the fury of a newborn thrust into this desolate world, the mother that was all he knew now gone.
The smile on my lips fades. Zyla is impossible. This… simmering attraction between us cannot become more. I am sworn to my brothers, to my family.
I have to forget her.
The thought sits dully in my stomach as I continue carving the wood, slicing shavings of white oak away, and using the tip of the knife to trace out the delicate features of the creature.
She’s not for me.
I have one more brother that remains unmated. One more bride I must provide. I cannot risk a single distraction—and that’s what Zyla is.
This fleeting attraction will fade.
The little lioness forms in my hands and I blink as I realize what I carved.Curse it. I glare at Zyla, but she’s strangely innocent in sleep and I can’t hold onto the frustration.
The petals of therahinjflower will help any mortal sleep soundly, though that is all they do. I didn’t dare tell her that the healing came from my magic.
The fire crackles, bringing with it a hint of Kasaros’s laughter. Glaring up at the sky, I find no trace of him, but I can sense his lingering amusement.
This is exactly the sort of game that would appeal to him.
Throw this mortal female into my path.
Distract me.
