Page 65 of Shadowlands Omega

“Thank you, Yaron.”

Rage at how I’ve been manipulated fills me. Rage and want. I want to fall to her knees now and push her to her absolute limits before denying her what she needs from me, what only I can give her. I close the space between us and place my hand on her neck in a similar, but more threatening position. I duck my head.“If you do anything to get yourself hurt today, Kiandah, I will kill you.”

“Comforting.” She purses her lips and looks like she’d like to say more, but doesn’t. We get ready in a tense, impenetrable silence before I escort Kiandah to the stables.

The stables are located on the western side of the castle. We walk through the courtyard of the keep to get there. Eyes track Kiandah and me everywhere. They see me, but they linger over Kiandah. A group of four older women — castle staff — carrying a basket of fresh linens between them are staring with particular vehemence. I slide my hand across Kiandah’s lower back. She stiffens, looking up at me, but I’m more interested in the way the women all grin and devolve into titters like schoolgirls when I raise my eyebrow in their direction as if challenging them to question this… Though as I stare, I realize I don’t think that is their intention at all. They look…pleasedat the sight of Kiandah with me. Huh.

“We’ll take horses today,” I tell her as the scent of the stables precedes the sight of them. “The chariot would be too conspicuous.”

She scoffs, smiling slightly. “Youare too conspicuous. Your mode of transport doesn’t change that.”

“You’re right, but unfortunately the carriages have a hard time following the highway lines through Paradise Hole. The swamp has overrun the roads and we’re likely to get stuck out there.” That is only part of the reason. The larger part is that I can’t risk taking a slower transportation if we are set upon by undead or if Trash City is prepared to ambush. But I don’t say that.

Dorsten is busy conversing with the stableman, the two of them trying to determine the horse best suited for Kiandah. “Are you an experienced rider?” he asks her over his shoulder while he secures the ties of Brega’s saddle. Brega huffs in impatience, ready to depart. While Brega has been allowed run of the pastures while I’ve been away, he hasn’t been ridden. I am the only one he allows that honor. And I can sense he’s battle-hungry yet.

I didn’t hear Kiandah’s answer, or if she gave one at all.

Dorsten continues, adjusting the final latch before lifting the reins in my direction. “My Lord.” I reach forward. Kiandah tries to step out of my path, but I prod her forward. Dorsten speaks to her next. “We have a smaller horse that would be well suited for your size, but she requires a firm hand.”

“Oh no…” Kiandah takes a step back, bumping into my chest. “That is generous, Lord Dorsten, but I have never ridden a horse before.”

I mine for strength. Her little vulnerabilities kill me. Though her brother has undoubtedly been introduced to horses well enough to ride one now, either this past week or prior, and we have more than enough time to give her basic training today, I don’t want to. I do my best not to betray my reaction as I slip my riding gloves on.

“No matter. Brega is more than capable of carrying us both. Let us not delay.”

I guide Brega out of the stables on foot and into the courtyard. People, people, everywhere. Their eyes track us from every vantage and I am both honored and proud to show Kiandah off and embarrassed that their Lady is displayed such. Covered in bruises and scabs, wearing a tunic beneath a cloak much too big for her.

The season is turning colder and while the trees still hold their leaves, they have begun to turn harsher colors. Redder colors. It does nothing to decrease the sense of foreboding I feel as the gates open and I prepare to venture with Kiandah into the unknown. These are my lands, but I hardly feel like I know them anymore. The Fates have changed everything.

My pride at showing her off as mine, my shame at how she’s displayed, my crippling lust as I imagine the feel of her body pressed to mine atop Brega, and my sudden irritation that I was swayed by her pretty smiles earlier and allowed her to come at all compete for dominance in the pit of my stomach.

My voice is not as charitable as it should be when I speak next and hiss, “Get on the horse, Kiandah. No matter what happens, I want you close.” I vault up onto Brega’s back and extend a hand down to her.

She doesn’t meet my gaze as she wraps her fingers around my wrist and I do the same to hers. “As you command, your Lordship.” Her heat is fiery as it flares. My lips twitch in a barely restrained grin as I haul her up and place her on the horse in front of me, push the sweet scent of her skin from my mind and prod Brega forward.

We are joined by a small contingent of ten Riders, her brother among them. As Brega plods past him down the row of Riders, she smirks, “Wow. Who knew red was your color, Cyprus?”

He attempts to maintain a stony expression, but his mouth still quirks.

“Apologies, my Lady, but Cyprus is still in training,” Dorsten answers on his behalf. “He isn’t permitted to converse openly with you.”

“Oh. Right. Of course, Lord Dorsten.”

Dorsten’s pale cheeks redden for no reason I can determine. I don’t like it though, and worry that I will not only have to keep my eyes open for undead and Trash City, but for other Alphas like him. I snap Brega’s reins and we start toward the gates. Uneventful, the trip will be. I’m sure of it.

I intend to be sure of it. I will that into existence.

19 | Kiandah

The Night Market

I hate riding horses, I decide after about ten minutes on Brega’s back.My ass is sore and my inner thighs are chafing, but I don’t dare say one word about it. Yaron’s been in a foul mood ever since we left the castle, crossed Orias and reached the highway line crossroads.

Here, four highway lines intersect. The one south of us now that we traveled upon to get here is the Orias highway line and leads through Orias back to the keep. To our right, heading east is the Undoline highway line. To our left, heading west, is the Shadow Ridge highway line which leads to the Cliffs of Oblivion and some of the Shadowlands mining towns just south of them. And to our north, eventually reaching the ports, the Orias highway line continues through the rotten woods of Paradise Hole.

The Crimson Riders are all silent as the woods close in around us and the hard, packed soil of the highway line turns to mud. There is no camaraderie between them. Instead they march in two parallel lines of five Riders each while Lord Yaron and I ride our horse in the middle. It doesn’t help my unease any, though.

I’ve been to the ports before, but I don’t like going. I don’t like crossing through Paradise Hole. The sensation can best be described as ominous and, after our last encounter with the undead in the woods, I feel on the verge of panic.

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