Lacrymosa

Nicholas1

Nicholas Arden glanced up as Adrianna’s cold laugh echoed through the corridor. She smiled down at him, her face twisting into a grimace. Nicholas snarled, rushing to the cell door. The chains around his arms and legs halted his movements and drove him to his knees. Adrianna laughed again. “Ah, Nicholas, have you forgotten that I control you?” she crooned sweetly.
She curved a finger toward him and smiled. Pain flooded through his body, a shock of pure agony that threatened to tear him apart from the inside. He growled as the pain subsided. “Don’t forget that I control your destiny,” Adrianna ordered icily.
“No one controls me,” Nicholas said lowly. “Least of all you.”
“You are a slave,” she remarked. “You will always be controlled.”
She cocked her finger again and left, leaving Nicholas howling.2

He awoke shirtless and strapped to whipping posts. Adrianna’s finger was tracing his jaw line. “Would you like a gift, Nicholas?” she asked cruelly.
He roared and tried to bite her finger. With enough force, he could have snapped the bones. He could have if she hadn’t slapped him square across the face. “Now,” Adrianna said.
Nicholas gritted his teeth together as the leather whip slapped against his back. He felt blood rising up through the split skin as another lash landed on his back, narrowly missing the dark, membranous wings his kind claimed. The next lash hit them directly. Don’t scream, he told himself sternly, don’t give the bitch the satisfaction.
Adrianna yawned and whispered something in the guard’s ear. He saw the newest whip Adrianna had fashioned out of the corner of his eye. It was a thin leather strap with spikes sticking out of it. As the spikes hit his wings, his screams of pain ripped through his throat.3

Aliya4

“Shh,” Aliya murmured. The slave tied to the posts tried to speak, but Aliya’s hand was over his mouth instantly. “Don’t speak, or we’ll get caught.”
She brushed away strands of thick dark hair from his sweaty face and sighed, staring down into his sapphire eyes and handsome face. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t heal you fully. Adrianna will make it worse if I do,” she whispered softly. “If I move my hand, you mustn’t speak any louder than a whisper. I can’t hold an aural shield and heal you at the same time.”
He nodded as she removed her hand. “You passed out after the thirteenth lash with the spiked whip,” she murmured conversationally. “I would have passed out after the first one. Wings first?”
“Who are you?” he asked; his voice was hoarse from screaming.
“That doesn’t matter at this particular moment,” she answered lowly, glancing around. “If I don’t heal your wings soon, you won’t have them anymore.”
“Wings first,” he muttered.
She lightly pressed her hands on where his wings were tightly folded against his back, feeling him wince. “Sorry,” she said lowly. “I still can’t heal without psychical contact. Skin wounds anyway.”
She felt the welts close and she moved on to caress the rest of his back. She felt his breathing deepen as the last wound healed. She kneeled in front of him and called a bowl of water and one of warm broth. “I know you didn’t deserve this. Adrianna likes to hurt people,” Aliya murmured. “So who are you, anyway? I gather you’re a threat to Adrianna because she’s had you weakened considerably.”
“Nicholas Arden,” he said lowly, sipping from the bowl she held to his lips.
“You’ve Descended, so you have to be somewhere around 20,” she murmured, concentrating. “You’re obviously powerful, but if you keep using Craft to not pass out or scream, you’ll weaken even more. And then you’ll be dead.”
She sat the bowl of water down and tapped the side of the bowl. “Drink a little more. I added a bit of Tigris to help fight against any infection,” she said, watching him eye the bowl. “I won’t try to kill you.”
Nicholas smiled and winced. His full bottom lip was split and dripping blood. “How do I know that?” he growled lowly.
“You don’t,” she said, staring at his eyes. “But I’m you’re best bet.” She offered the bowl. “Now, drink up.”
He gulped largely and coughed half of it up, only to have her hand over his mouth once more. “I know it’s vile,” she said, vanishing the bowl, “Now some broth.”
He guzzled the warm liquid and sighed. “You didn’t add anything to it, did you?” he asked weakly.
She flushed and looked down, busying herself with the empty wooden bowl. “Just a pain reliever,” she muttered. “It’ll help you sleep because those wounds will hurt soon.”
“Who are you?” he asked again, narrowing his eyes. She glanced up at him.
“It doesn’t matter;” she repeated lowly. “All that matters is that you won’t die tonight, which might have been more merciful, but…”
She twisted the skirt of her gown in her hands and smiled up at him. “How do you know I’ve Descended?” he asked lowly, rising up on his knees. The chains around his wrists clattered.
She gasped and motioned for him to be quiet. She heard rocks crunching underfoot only yards away and sighed as the sounds faded. “Do you want to get us killed?” she asked rhetorically. “I know you’ve Descended because I can sense it.”
“What do you mean ‘sense it’?” he hissed.
She shrugged. “It’s difficult to explain,” she said. “If I ever see you again, I will try to.”
She stared into his eyes, captivating him with her dark smoke-green gaze. “I’ll hold you to that,” he said lowly, wincing as the pain returned. “You weren’t lying.”
“Just wait,” she murmured. “It will stop momentarily. Tread carefully, Prince.”
“Your work won’t go to waste,” he replied, closing his eyes as she stroked his cheek.
“Adrianna is cruel,” she mumbled, “and you will be summoned midday. Please don’t… Well, try not to…”
She tangled five pale fingers in his hair, her other hand on his, palm to palm. She released him and bowed lowly. “Thank you,” Nicholas muttered.
His voice was the last thing she heard before she vanished to her rooms and collapsed on her bed. 5

Blood, so much blood…
Screams…
Running…
Darkness…
Death…
Blood…
So much blood…6

Aliya jumped awake, a cold sweat forming on her brow. The sheets were tangled around her ankles tightly. She fumbled in the dark to untangle herself, rolling to the floor. She exhaled sharply as she landed, rising slowly. Her legs shook under her.
She flicked her wrist to light the candles, jumping as an olive-complexioned, emerald-eyed young man appeared behind her. “What did you do last night?” he asked, backing her to the wall.
“What are you talking about?” she asked, gasping as his wrist closed over hers tightly. Her arm began tingling with pain as he stroked her cheek, down her neck, over her bare collarbone. She bared her teeth with a feral growl before he smacked her across the face.
Her black hair splashed across her face when he wrenched it toward him. “Get dressed,” he sneered, releasing her.
He threw a black gown at her and vanished, appearing in a chair across the room. She fled to the bathroom and slipped off the dress she wore yesterday and tugged on the black gown. It was silk, and very beautiful, hugging her body in all the right places and exposing her round, womanly shoulders. Her ivory skin glimmered in the candlelight, shadows of flames dancing over the scars under her collarbone. She stared in the mirror at her colorless face, the dark circles under her eyes, and the tired look in her eyes that refused to go away. Her head spun and her vision darkened.
She turned the water on and washed her hands, the long billowing sleeves of her dress sticking to her wet skin. She vanished into her sitting room, stifling a scream when he grabbed her from behind. “Aliya, Aliya, Aliya,” he said, caressing her arms and jerking her shoulders back. “I know when you leave your rooms.”
“Are you watching me, Khevin?” she asked, smiling in spite of herself. “Adrianna won’t like that.”
He chuckled darkly. “Adrianna can go to Hell,” he said evilly.
“If you feel that way,” she said, turning to look at him, “then why do you warm her bed every night?”
“The same reason every other male in Ebon chooses to,” he whispered, his hand slinking over the curve of her shoulders. “I came looking for you last night.”
“Hence why I shield my rooms, Khevin,” she muttered. “I can’t have Adrianna’s lover tainting where I sleep.”
He ran his hands down her sides and dug his nails into the thin shift of silk at her waist. She inhaled sharply as he pulled her toward him. His feather-light kisses landed softly on her jaw line. “I think you had better watch your tongue,” Khevin whispered.
“Perhaps you should watch yours,” Aliya hissed, pushing him away from her. “Don’t touch me again, Khevin.”
Her voice was low and dark, a midnight whisper. She held her hand out to him and slowly curled it into a fist. The door blew open and Khevin flew backwards into the corridor. She waved the door shut and closed her eyes. A wave of nausea hit her and drove her back into the wall. She heard a soft knock at her door.
“Come,” she said lowly, sitting down behind her Blackwood desk in a soft, comfortable chair.
The door opened slowly. Her eyes were closed, but she heard soft footsteps moving toward her. She opened her eyes slowly, squealing with delight. “Stefan!” she exclaimed, jumping up and into the hard, golden-brown arms of Stefan Adrian, Dark Prince of Kilgore. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you,” Stefan said sweetly, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her tightly.
“Can’t…breathe…” she coughed against his chest. He released her instantly and she sat back down. “Why did you not tell me you were coming?”
“I wanted it to be a surprise,” he said, sitting in a chair across from her. “Are you treated well?”
“As well as can be expected for a powerful Dark Princess,” she replied. “I long to be back in Kilgore. There are no flowers here, Stefan.”
“It’s the Winter Lands, Aliya,” he said, relaxing.
“I realize that, Stefan,” she murmured. “But it’s unsettling to not have green grass under your feet when you walk, or to not feel the warmth of the sun on your skin.”
“I agree,” he said, smiling, “but I am here to give you a taste of home.”
“So I can’t return yet?” she asked sadly.
“Do you really want to?” he countered. “Everett’s still considering marrying you off.”
She groaned. “No, I suppose not. I won’t let Everett hide me away, either,” she said tiredly, gently rubbing the bruise Khevin left and wincing.
“Are you okay?” he asked, at her side instantly.
“Yes,” she answered, waving him away.
“You’ve been doing extensive healing, haven’t you?” he asked, stroking her shoulders.
“Stefan, I know it weakens me considerably, but you know I only do it in dire situations,” she said, swatting his gentle hands away. “Now stop worrying about me and tell me why you are here.”
He continued to rub her shoulders, speaking low in her ear. “I’m here to protect you, Aliya,” he said.
She glanced back at him and laughed. “Protect me? I don’t need to be protected!” she exclaimed, jumping to her feet and swaying.
“You’re exasperating, Aliya,” he said, appearing in front of her and grabbing her by the shoulders. He pulled her to him, pressing his lips against her powerfully. She sighed beneath him, rising to her toes.
He released her reluctantly; she opened her eyes slowly. “Stefan…” she said softly, placing her hands against his chest to steady herself. Before she could add anything else, her legs fell out from under her. Stefan caught her around the waist and held her up.
“Aliya, you can’t heal for a while,” he said. She felt a palpable sense of worry surround her.
She smiled weakly. “If he needs me,” she whispered, “then I have to.”
“If who needs you?” he demanded, but she was already asleep against his chest.7

Khevin8

Khevin appeared beside Aliya as she strolled through a narrow path between two rows of lifeless trees. “Can you hear the screams?” he asked, slipping his arm around her waist deftly.
“I’m not biting, Lord Alexander,” she said coldly, removing his arm quickly.
He laughed robustly. “The slave, Nicholas Arden, you don’t hear him?” he asked, fingering the red lace-ties that trailed down from each of her shoulder blades to join at her lower back. The V-shape of her dress exposed her creamy skin all the way down her back. It amazed him how the dress stayed on her.
She stiffened and cocked her head to the side, listening intently. She winced as the yowls of pain echoed throughout the trail. “I hear him quite well,” she said lowly. “What do you want, Khevin?”
His hand slipped over her cold shoulder and he admired the way the crimson dress fit. The neckline was low and straight, exposing her half of her shoulders and the tops of her breasts. Her hair tumbled down her back in a waterfall of ebony spirals with jagged bangs that hung over her left eye adorably. “Just a leisurely stroll accompanied by a beautiful woman,” Khevin answered, delighting in the gruesome yell that filled the air.
“Why are you not watching Adrianna torture her slave as you always do?” she asked, shrugging his hand off.
“I was there the last time,” he said, jerking her toward him.
She growled and crossed her arms. “A simple word thrown into the air will draw Stefan here, and you wouldn’t want that,” she said sweetly.
“You wouldn’t call Stefan here, my dear,” Khevin murmured, pulling her to him. Their bodies pressed together and she frowned.
“No, you’re right,” she admitted. “But only because Stefan doesn’t need your blood on his hands.” She wrenched herself away and smiled. “If Stefan catches your scent near my rooms, I won’t be able to stop him from ripping you to shreds.”
Khevin stared down at her, swallowing a flash of apprehension at the thought of provoking Stefan Adrian. “Lady,” Khevin said, bowing lowly. She vanished with a breeze that caressed the back of his neck.9

Adrianna flashed an evil smile at him and returned to giggling over Nicholas Arden. His shaggy dark brown hair hung over his face as a guard continued to flog his back and wings with the spiked whip. As each lash landed, Nicholas yowled in pain, fighting to break the chains at his wrists and feet.
Khevin watched and laughed as the thirteenth lash since he’d arrived landed. “How many has he had, Adrianna?” Khevin asked gently in her ear.
Adrianna giggled. “I stopped counting after he grunted his way through twenty,” she replied. “He has five more before it stops.”
Khevin put his arm around Adrianna’s unhealthily-small waist and pulled her close to him. “How about stopping it now and retiring to your rooms?” he said lowly, feeling her shudder beneath him.
She looked up at him with eyes full of hungry desire and nodded. A wave of disgust washed over him as she halted the guard and petted Arden’s head before Khevin vanished with her in his arms.10

Nicholas11

He heard a ticking sound when he groaned awake. His eyes opened only to find the darkness in front of him. A lusciously rounded figure sank to her knees in front of him and he saw those familiar dark, smoky-green eyes staring up at him. There were dark circles under her eyes and she moved slowly as she wiped his hair away from his face. “Guess all of your hard work went to waste,” he said, a grin spreading across his face. He saw a dark bruise wrapped around her wrist.12

He barely felt the pain of his bottom lip splitting open. “Did you use Craft to keep you awake?’ she said slowly, a few of her words slurring together.13

“No,” he said giddily, shaking his head. Then he groaned as the pain from the lashes engulfed him.14

“I can’t heal you alone right now,” she muttered. “So, I brought someone to help me.”15

She looked behind her. A dark figure moved toward the platform and sat down beside her. Nicholas saw golden-brown skin, warm chocolate eyes, and a mop of unkempt black hair in the form of Stefan Adrian. “You look like Hell, Nicholas,” Stefan said lowly, glancing beside him.16

The girl called in a familiar set of bowls. Stefan muttered something in her ear and she glanced up, adding a bit more of whatever she had already put in. “Tigris,” she explained, “and a bit of Raven’s Heart. Just to help with healing.”17

Stefan whispered lowly in her ear and she shook her head. “Never you mind,” she muttered. “It’s safer to remain anonymous.”18

“And yet Nicholas knows who I am,” Stefan murmured.19

“I suspect he’s smart enough to keep his mouth shut, Stefan, but he doesn’t need to know who I am just yet,” she replied, pressing a few black leaves into Stefan’s hands.20

Nicholas watched this exchange with an awed look on his face. He cleared his throat lowly, gasping as Stefan powerfully pressed the black leaves on the tight folds of his wings.21

The girl sighed and pushed her hair back as she offered him the bowl of water. He narrowed his eyes on her face and clamped his mouth shut. “I added a better tasting herb with the Tigris. It won’t be utterly disgusting,” she promised.22

Nicholas relented and gulped down the cool, mint-flavored water. He licked his bloody lip and nodded. “Not disgusting at all,” he muttered, closing his eyes as her warm fingers traced his jaw line. Her soft finger pressed down on the cut in his lip and he felt the skin binding back together.23

“Do not, under any circumstances, re-open any of your wounds,” she instructed with a delightfully husky voice.24

He opened his mouth to speak as she moved away and settled at Stefan’s side. Her gentle hands pressed over his wounds and she sighed. Her breath danced over his skin, and he felt the final welts close tightly. “You’re healed, Prince,” she muttered, appearing in front of him.25

Stefan’s arm was around her waist and she was clearly leaning on him. Stefan’s cold eyes locked on Nicholas’s with a silent warning. Speak and regret.26

Nicholas shuddered.27

Stefan28

Stefan raised himself up on his elbow and traced the dim outline of her side, her thin tunic molding to her skin. He lifted her left arm and kissed the scars the decorated the skin from her wrist to her elbow. She stirred against him and rolled, turning her face toward him. He kissed her warm lips softly, caressing her collarbone and tracing the scars under it. Her eyes fluttered open and she gazed up at him.29

His heart twisted in his chest as he stared down into her haunting eyes. “Good morning, Aliya,” Stefan said lowly, rubbing her scars absently.30

She blinked and scooted closer to him, shivering. “Stefan, thank you,” she said weakly.31

He brushed her bangs out of her face and kissed her forehead. “You would not have been able to do it alone, Princess,” he said, thinking of how weak she was after just the small amount of healing she had done.32

“I know,” she murmured, swatting his hand away. He caught her bruised wrist loosely and kissed her palm. “I can’t afford to be caught defying Adrianna. Not when there is much more to be done.”33

Stefan nodded and felt her body relax against him. “Lacrymosa needs to be restored to its original strength and beauty,” she continued lowly. “Adrianna has damaged more than she realizes. Did you know that any female found stronger than Adrianna upon the time of their Ascent are killed?”34

Stefan shook his head. “And what of those strong enough to Descend?” he asked softly.35

She shuddered in his arms. “I can’t Descend here, Stefan,” she whispered, a hint of fear in her caressing voice. “She’ll kill me. Adrianna only puts up with me now because I haven’t Descended. But when I do…”36

“You are here, the Dark Princess of Kilgore, and the only Princess of Light to be born since the Great War,” Stefan said soothingly, whispering in the Old Language. “You are protected.”37

She reached up and traced his neck, catching the dangling Black Dagger pendant hanging from a silver chain. She inhaled sharply as the sharp tip jabbed her finger. He coaxed her hand up to his mouth and lapped up the rich blood trickling from her fingertip. Her eyes closed and she jumped seconds before a knock rang out in her bed chambers. “I’ll take care of it,” Stefan said, rising from the large, round bed and slipping his black, silk robe over his muscular, well-defined body.38

He vanished to her sitting room and opened the door to the corridor, only to see Khevin standing there with a cocky grin on his face. Stefan leaned against the doorway and crossed his arms. “Ah, Stefan,” Khevin said smugly, “warming dear Aliya’s bed I see?”39

“No,” Stefan replied coldly. He watched Khevin’s subtle flash of apprehension with a perverse satisfaction. “What business do you have?”40

Khevin raked his fingers through his hair. “It’s a personal matter, Prince Adrian,” Khevin spat, disappearing. Stefan vanished back to Aliya’s bedroom to find her sitting near the roaring fire; one pale arm hugged one shapely leg to her chest.41

He cleared his throat, slipped beside her, and leaned on his elbows next to her. She stared at him and returned to looking at the fire. The flames danced in the fireplace, their light glowing around Aliya like a halo. She rested her cheek on her arm and inhaled deeply. “Who was there?” she asked softly.42

“Khevin Alexander,” Stefan muttered, sitting up and slipping his hands over her shoulders. She groaned and tossed her hair. A strand of hair toyed with the corner of her lips. He sat up and kissed her lips gently, both hands on either sides of her face.
She sighed when he released her. “Stefan…"