Sky Lord's Mate (Sin & Salvation Book 1) Read online

But as they grab the girl next to me, whose bright blue eyes meet mine in terror, I start to fear that I’m not going to have a say in the matter at all.

  4

  Aramon

  “Your son’s death was one of honor. His ancestors will welcome him.”

  The words are sincere, my gratitude genuine, but it feels no less like a failure to inform Olvar’s father that he was killed by an enemy who has not posed a threat to us in centuries.

  I grip the elder’s shoulder, looking into his stony face. Jagged planes are framed by a long but tidy beard, jet-black eyes regarding me with a barely restrained anger I can feel deep in my soul. He blames me. That is plain to see. But he cannot blame me more than I blame myself.

  “And how will you stop this from happening in the future, Warlord?” he asks me, his eyes boring into me.

  I know he wants vengeance. I want it as well. But flying blindly into the eye of this storm would be suicide. Even if our more reckless warriors are willing to give their lives for the cause, I cannot risk it without knowing what we’re fighting for.

  “By keeping our eyes open and deciding the best move for all of us,” I tell him, all too aware it’s not what he wants to hear.

  I can feel the tension in his body and I draw my hand back, giving him a respectful dip of my head, my horns offered before him. Leaving his side, I walk the deck of The Juggernaut, my flagship vessel, seeking out the injured who are being tended by our healers.

  A warrior younger than I am sits placidly, his jaw tense, a shimmer to his eyes though he tries to hide it as I pass by. One of the healers—an older woman named Vithral—sews a massive gash in his wing with magical black thread. The binding is pulled taut, the thread shimmering in the sunlight, but the wing does not flex properly. There is every chance he will be unable to fly as he should.

  That, too, feels like a failure.

  “Aramon,” she calls to me, one of the few who feels comfortable using my given name. Likely because she has known me since I was a child. “Come sit down. Someone must tend to your wounds.”

  My hand goes to my side, where the Anjari’s light spear burned my flesh. It’s tender to my touch, but hardly cause for concern. “It will heal on its own.”

  Before she can argue further, my second-in-command approaches, his right arm bandaged in a hide wrap. His eyes are wild, his nostrils flaring like an agitated bull’s.

  “Have you come up with a plan of attack yet?” he asks me, a savage eagerness in his voice. “We must strike quickly, while they’re still recovering from their losses.”

  “A few scouts hardly signify,” I motion for him to walk with me, ascending the deck to the helm of the ship. “We have no idea who sent them, what they wanted, or how many more might be coming.”

  I move to the bow, my arms folded over my chest, the wind slicing past my sides as the ship moves at a pace far greater than what most vessels could boast. The skies are like the clearest, calmest waters to The Juggernaut, and its powerful twin engines light with an ever-burning magic great enough to carry us from one end of these realms to the next. It was my father’s pride and joy, the crown of our fleet, and now it will be the vessel that secures us our first victory in what I know will be a brutal war.

  “I can’t believe you would simply ignore a threat like this,” Talran says, his voice a low hiss.

  “Who says I’m ignoring it?” I fix him with a hard stare, a roughness to my voice he instantly understands. I trust him with my life, but the day he starts to question me in front of our people is the day I completely lose their respect. “Just because I’m not eager to throw our warriors at the nearest Anjari city doesn’t mean I don’t have a plan.”

  Untying a pouch at my waist, I withdraw a smooth, flat stone with a dark, glassy finish. I hold it up so that it catches the sun, turning my wrist to create a signal. Three flashes of light answer from a distance.

  “I sent some of our scouts to look into what the Anjari were doing a few weeks ago,” I say, approaching the subject with caution.

  “And you didn’t send me? Or tell me?” There’s a bite to his voice, his temper rising. I can see it in the flush that rises through his body.

  “I wasn’t sure what would come of it,” I admit. “I’m still not. But I wanted to get a read on just how the Anjari are getting their mates, and I think the scouts finally have an answer. Fly with me?”

  I can tell his pride has taken a hit, but he accompanies me just the same, both of us armed as we leap into the air and approach the scouting skiff to board. The vessel is far smaller than our raiding ships, built for speed and stealth rather than power. The commander of the scouting party shows me the filed tips of his horns when he bows, fist over his chest.

  “What news?”

  “You’re in luck,” he says, his sharp teeth snagging the corner of his mouth in a grin. “They’ve just gotten a new group of females. As best I can tell, they’re bringing them through a portal. Maybe linked up to another realm?” He shrugs. “Some sort of ceremony’s been happening all morning.”

  “They have mates?” Talran asks, his eyes wide, the hand at his side clenching into a fist.

  When he looks up at me, I know we’re finally on the same wavelength.

  “Straos above…” he breathes, a slow grin spreading across his features. “You mean to steal their mates.”

  “That is exactly what I mean to do.”

  I gather my best men, the ones I would trust with my life, just as they trust me with theirs. Talran leads them, his spear at the ready, his wings spread wide as the small scouting vessel ranges toward the pristine, white mountain that looms in the distance.

  The cliff face gleams like ivory, reflecting the sun’s violent rays. Tall birch trees line the top, a sea of white mixed with golden leaves that should help filter the sunlight, but only seem to make it that much more intense. It might be beautiful, were it not so bright and oppressive, the harsh light overtaking any sense of calm or serenity that might have flourished if the space was simply allowed to exist.

  That is the way of the Anjari, though. Nothing can ever simply exist as it was meant to be; as its nature demands. It must all be made pure, any hint of spirit driven away until all that remains is an empty vessel they can fill. I have heard it is the same with their mates, and just knowing they have females and treat them this way fills me with rage.

  But I would have let them be. I would have honored the truce forged by my grandfather, if only they’d honored theirs.

  Now, I will show them no mercy. I will take what is dearest to them—take their precious vessels before they can “cleanse” them of everything that makes them who they are. That is the goal, and if their guardians are killed in the process, at least they will have died as something other than cowardly assassins.

  There is one thing I will not tolerate, however.

  “Listen up,” I call to the assembled group. Warriors all, ten of us in total. “I know many of you would like to hurt the Anjari as we hurt--to take from them as they have taken from us. But you are not to harm the females in any way. They are not at fault here. We will take them back to Daevos and they will live full and happy lives with the older women.”

  “And if they fight us?” one of the older warriors asks. “I will not allow myself to be run through by an Anjari’s mate.”

  “If you can’t handle a few women without getting yourself stabbed,” Talran says, “you don’t deserve to be here.”

  “I will say this one more time.” I approach the male, my wings twitching, eager to leave this ship and find purpose in my mission. But this must be made clear. I cannot take any chances. “You are not to harm any of the women. Under any circumstances. If that is an agreement you cannot make, then you need to get out of my sight before I strip you of your wings and what’s left of your dignity.”

  Something blazes inside of me, a fierceness I never found difficult to achieve as a warrior, but a state I’ve not often reached as a leader. If I must put a male in hi
s place over something, then I am glad it is something as fundamentally important as this.

  As much as I want the Anjari to suffer, as much as I want to see them pay for what they have taken from us, I refuse to harm innocents to achieve this goal. Especially innocent women.

  The old warrior lifts his chin, and for a moment it seems as though he may challenge me on this. But he gives a single nod, adding his voice to that confirmation when I don’t walk away. “Understood, Warlord.”

  Looking at him, I can see a glint of desperation in his eyes. It is the same I feel in my heart, and I can’t help but sympathize with him. I clasp his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “We will find our mates, and we will be better for having treated these women with kindness. I promise you that.”

  He lets out a breath and gives one last quick, decisive nod, clasping my shoulder in return. We are brothers here, those of us who have grown together, fought together, lost together. I know the day will come when the gods smile upon us once more.

  “Live as though there is no tomorrow,” I say, reciting something I heard my father say too many times to count.

  “Die with no regrets,” they finish in unison, hoisting their weapons.

  The deck of the ship rocks below my feet as I push into the air, my brothers following me. We fly straight up, following the steep line of the cliffs, past the sea of birch trees, higher and higher until our spread wings black out the sun. Twin blades gripped in my hands, I cut through the air with a powerful gust from my wings, my gaze seeking the entry point the scouts identified.

  A large hole splits the mountain, the sun’s light grasping toward a chamber below. I motion to my warriors and we speed through the opening, our wings swallowing the light, our fierce battle cries echoing through the chamber. I intend for this day to stay with them--for those who survive to tell the story to future generations, so they will know the danger of breaking their word. If that means I must be monstrous, a terror that strikes without mercy, then I will be the nightmare that haunts their every waking hour.

  So long as they remember. So long as they learn.

  But as my boots land heavy on the temple floor, the force of my arrival sending a shockwave through the yielding stone, I am struck by something that surpasses even my desire to protect my people. A sudden, visceral yearning reaches into my soul, grabbing hold of me and forcing me to pay it mind. It’s much like the pull I felt when it was my time to take up the mantle of leader, but far, far stronger.

  I know not what it wants from me, but I am a slave to it. To this burning, all-consuming need to do something, the gods themselves seeming to force my eyes around the room, my senses aligning, the moment slowing into sharp, blissful clarity as I finally see what they wish me to see.

  As I finally see her.

  She is small and wingless, her long red hair like a river of molten fire that cascades down her back. Her skin is alabaster, as beautiful as the pale glow of the moon, too much of her hidden from my view by a drab, shapeless white dress that hardly deserves to touch her. And her eyes… Straos, I have never seen eyes that beckon me so, like the glint of precious emeralds shaped into a thousand different facets.

  She huddles with a group, wingless just as she is, all of them garbed in the same plain white dresses. Fear rolls off of her in waves, reaching me like a spear impaled through my heart, and in that moment I want nothing more than to soothe her. To protect her with my life. To fight for her until the bitter end.

  Because she is mine.

  I know it instantly. I feel it deep in my soul with a certainty that takes my breath away, then fills my entire being with a sense of overwhelming pride and purpose. This is where I am meant to be. By her side, protecting her from those that wish her harm, staking my claim over any males unlucky enough to be in my path.

  She is my mate, and I will not leave this place without her. Safe in my arms, shielded by my wings, worshiped with my very last breath.

  I fight through the Anjari who I know would do her harm, scarcely slowing in my single-minded pursuit. She tries to flee from them, my brave mate, but I am there, putting my body between her and the males who mean to make her just another soulless vessel.

  “I’m here now,” I tell her, a fierce certainty shining through my entire being. “You don’t have to be afraid any longer.”

  I reach for her, gathering her tiny form into my arms, her warmth and softness cradled against me. I pay the other Anjari no mind. They will suffer if they have harmed her, but for now, there is only one place I know she will be safe.

  Holding her tightly, I take to the sky, trusting my brothers to save the other women. They will understand, for there is not one among them who would not do the same in my position. Not one of us who would choose to protect our mate above all else.

  And as I head for The Juggernaut, speaking soft, soothing words to her as she clings to me in turn, that is exactly what I intend to do. Even if it brings the wrath of the Anjari down upon me.

  5

  Allie

  The black-haired girl’s screams as they drag her into the center curdle my blood, shattering any hopes I have of leaving this place. These angels are too strong. It takes two of them to drag her into the center, even as she digs her feet in, and she’s just hopelessly overpowered. Gwen is huddled into my side, frightened out of her mind, and I’m honestly not doing any better. My skin is crawling and my heart is racing, my pulse pounding just below my ear.

  I don’t think I can watch this ritual again, so I close my eyes and turn away. The chanting is growing, rising in volume, harmony edging towards resolution...but it’s disturbed, somehow. There’s a shrill undercurrent that wasn’t there before, cutting through the purity of the notes.

  I open my eyes, and that’s when I see the shadow near the ceiling. It cuts the shaft of light entirely, landing in the dark of the circles, and standing tall.

  It’s...a demon.

  Tall, with his muscles rippling as he readies his weapons, his companions breaking the shaft as they too enter. Their skin looks almost golden in the candlelight, with huge black horns erupting from the top of their heads. Large, leathery wings sit at their backs, and leather armor encases strong legs, crossing their deep chests. The one that landed first has dark hair, with a goatee framing a mouth set in a hard line. Amber eyes take in the priests, who have thrown their hoods back and readied their weapons.

  And then those eyes fixate on me.

  The world slows to a crawl, my breath drawing in with a sharpness that leaves me winded. Everything in me is fascinated, watching him cut through the angels that crowd him as even more press into me, forming a barrier between us, and I realize that I’m also terrified.

  The fear takes hold of me and I turn away, pulling Gwen with me as I try to run from the angels. “We have to go now,” I tell her urgently, trying to get to the door they brought us through, bare feet slapping on the stone floor.

  Before we’ve taken even a handful of steps, the guards from the hall emerge into the room, and come straight for us, spears drawn. I turn instantly, Gwen’s hand tight in mine, and try to see another way. There isn’t one, and we are surrounded by a sea of white.

  Until that graceful dark shadow lands beside me, those amber eyes on fire. He says something I can’t understand, his hands reaching for me, and I am filled with a curious mix of relief and dread as he pulls me into his arms.

  I can’t tell if he’s saved me from something catastrophic, or saved me for something even worse.

  What I do know is he sweeps me into his arms, cradling me against his warm, muscular chest, and my stomach heaves with the force of being propelled into the air. Vertigo rips my nerves apart, that old fear of flying coming back with a vengeance as the ceiling rushes straight at me. I’m pretty sure I’m screaming as the bright light blinds me, and we’re free.

  I can’t see much of the world. I don’t want to. I catch glimpses of white mountains as I shut my eyes, my nails digging into the hard chest of this demon creat
ure. He’s saying something to me in this deep, rumbling voice, the words incomprehensible to me, but his tone is gentle, almost pleading. Maybe he’s begging me not to shriek as he climbs higher and higher, the wind whipping my hair around. I can’t help it though. Every time his wings flap I jump, and every gust of wind makes me think he’ll lose his grip, sending me into a freefall. My entire body is shaking, and I can’t stop it.

  “P-p-please,” I stammer, not even sure what I’m trying to ask for. To be put down? To be placed back on solid ground? I don’t even know where I am, and I just want to go home.

  A pleased rumble sounds through his chest and he pulls me tighter against him as he shoots upwards with a powerful flap of his wings. I risk a glance, twining my fingers in his leather harness as if it will save me from falling. There’s a brown expanse above me, made of metal and wood, with an opening yawning in the middle. It’s to this point that my new captor speeds, erupting into what I now belatedly see must be some kind of ship.

  Inside there are long ramps leading upwards, sunlight pouring down them, but also...there are more demons. They’re checking what appear to be spears, huddled at long windows that look out over the land we’ve just flown away from. I can see how high we are, and my stomach heaves again.

  The demon who’s still got me in his arms barks sharp words at the others before lifting off again, breezing up the ramp and out onto what I presume is the deck, awash in brilliant sunlight. Here he finally, gently, sets me down, but my knees immediately buckle.

  I hit the deck hard on my knees, a pained gasp pushing past my lips, and I feel a jolt of electricity course through me as this demon reaches out for me. “NO!” I scream, lurching violently away from his grasp. I turn my head, meeting his pained amber eyes, and glare. “Don’t touch me.”

  He reaches for me again and I slap at his hands. “Go away!” He seems to take the hint, retreating a reasonable distance away, but I can still feel him nearby. I can still feel his eyes on me. I’m not sure what he wants from me, but I can guess, and I fear the answer is similar to what he’s pulled me from.