“I am dreadfully sorry to ask you this. Could...could you try and see my future?”
The silence was chilling. Her sister’s fear came through their mental connection acrid with an aura of blackness.
“I…let me try.” A sob fluttered in her mind, then an enraged scream of denial. “I saw myself on the throne of Dxyriah, ruling in your stead.”
Relief pierced Shilah. Her sister would live. And their birthright would be reclaimed. “I love you, Kala, more than you will ever know. We’ve planned for this. Use your powers. Try and see the possible outcome as you flee to safety, do not wait for me.” Then she closed the pathway unique only to them before she could hear the protests.
Shilah attacked. She covered the distance between them in a single leap, her knife fashioned from pure aura aimed at his throat, her mind opened, searching for a weakness in his shield. If she could read his mind, she would triumph, for then every move and intention would be telegraphed before he executed them. He evaded the knife, a blur of speed she barely tracked. She kicked her feet high, slamming her heels into his chest with her full strength. Again, she failed to deliver a blow. Using the force of her telekinesis she flung her knife toward his throat, in a flash of blue energy, and he vanished. She breathed harshly, staring in confusion. Too late, she spun around to meet his attack, and a forearm roped with muscle banded across her throat.
His grip on her was brutal in its absoluteness. “Be still.”
Her eyes burned. She sank into the center of her power, flaring her aura, concentrating on his shields. Something in her, strong and proud, could not relent, could not submit to the raw force of the man who meant to take her life.
“Cease your attacks or I will break your neck.”
She flinched at his hard, merciless voice. “Let’s bargain,” she said hoarsely, determined to slow the frantic beat of her heart and the fear that was trying to cripple her.
He bent his head, his warm breath by her temple sending a shiver of heat coiling in the pit of her stomach. Rage bit through her that she could have such a reaction to this man. It was unpardonable.
“You have no bargaining power.”
She absolutely wished to stick her knife into the arrogant bastard. “You are seeking the dungeons. I will do everything possible to help you find it.”
“Accepted.”
His quick capitulation alarmed her. “In exchange for my life and freedom.”
“No.”
Incredulity surged through her. “You are not stupid enough to believe I would ever help you, knowing at the end of it you will kill me,” she snarled.
“In exchange for your sister’s life and liberty.”
Shilah jerked, then faltered into complete stillness. At this moment fear was an ugly, living thing she couldn't shake. Her throat burned and with a harsh gasp she realized tears rolled down her cheeks in a hot trail. They dripped onto his forearm but neither of them moved, and they stood like that for precious seconds while silent tears of misery wetted them both. “I accept.”
“You do not wish to die,” he said softly, a vein of curiosity in his voice.
A choked sound escaped her. “You know of many people who wish to be murdered?” she demanded sarcastically.
His hand slipped from her. “Death is a consequence of war. Some accept it with grace.”
She lurched away from him, spun around, and backed away until she came upon the wall. “You and I are not at war. My battle is not here in Amagarie. It awaits me in Serange.”
The sounds of shuffling feet sounded in the distance. She flared her telepathy brushing against more than one hundred minds, reading a few. Her breath shuddered from her, and she wasn’t sure if it was in relief or dread. “Warriors are headed our way. Grand General Shenzhen leads them.”
No expression flickered in his eyes, as if the notion did not rattle him. “The grand general is one of the most feared men in the empire.”
Still no reaction.
“You’ll be arrested,” she said.
“You sound hopeful.”
If he was arrested, then he could not kill her, unless he was to act before they reached her. He shifted, and she flared her telekinetic powers, regretful she was only an Alpha in that geneses. She mentally lifted him and slammed him into the door with such force it splintered, and he stumbled into the hall. She couldn’t help feeling he had allowed her attack.
Shilah grabbed the sari she’d discarded and hurriedly tugged the floating garment around her body, then belted it at the waist with a gold rope. Then she slipped on silk undergarments, wishing she had time to don more serviceable clothing. The sheer dress did not allow for the concealment of a weapon. She pushed her feet into jeweled shoes. Grabbing the bag, she’d packed earlier, she pushed it under the four-poster bed, as the Grand General and his warriors came into view.
Lachlan struggled to his feet, and she frowned for her attack had not been all that powerful. He withdrew his weapon, and Grand General Shenzhen whistled, and soundwaves undulated in the air. Shilah barely had the time to throw up a barrier of pure aura to protect her from the sound waves that slammed through the corridor.