Sacrifice of Mercy Page 5

  “My bag,” I whispered.

  Tom stopped and turned to the servant. “You,” he began.

  “Yes, my lord.” The young man bowed.

  “What is your name?”

  “Colin, sire.”

  “My lady would like me to carry her bag. She seems to think it would be gentlemanly of me to do so.”

  Tom sounded very formal. I wasn’t used to it but did my best not to laugh.

  “But sire—”

  “It’s okay Colin. I don’t want to look like a pussy the first time my lady meets my family.” Tom held out his hand, and the servant reluctantly gave him the bag.

  “I can carry my own bag,” I whispered, leaning into Tom.

  “And then I would look like an ass to my grandfather’s subjects,” he said equally as quiet.

  He shouldered the bag, and I glanced up at the gray stone structure when a hurried female servant came running up and hastily curtseyed.

  “My lord, your grandfather was notified of your arrival, and he’s summoned you to his chamber at once. He requests there be no delay.”

  Alarm registered on Tom’s face. With my hand in his, I was dragged along as he began to run. I trailed slightly behind him without protest. His grandfather was dying and I hoped it wasn’t his final moments.

  “No, you cannot follow.” The words were a growled demand and must have been directed at our friends.

  Tom didn’t stop, but he called out over his shoulder, “They are my guests and should be treated as such. Please show them to their chambers and bring food or whatever they require.”

  Then we turned a corner running so fast, I wasn’t able to take in all the details of the place. The main difference between the castles I’d been in and that one was it didn’t feel cold. The walls weren’t stone gray blocks. They were a honey color and gave the impression of warmth and being lived in. The latter was the difference in Sebastian’s dwelling. His Scottish castle felt sterile and lonely.

  We wound up a stairwell tucked in the corner. There were tiny lookout windows along the way that I couldn’t get a good glance out of at the speed we were going. We exited somewhere shy of the top based on a quick peek. Still, we had more running to do. The longer we ran gave me a good sense of how large the castle as we continued not to reach our destination.

  When we finally slowed, I had to admit I was grateful. I wasn’t sure how much longer I would be able to keep up. Being supernatural didn’t mean I wasn’t without limitations. And working on little to no sleep, I wasn’t at full-strength.

  Further up, two guards in red held long spears and stood on either side of an opening. As we neared, they crossed their weapons in front of us to bar our entrance.

  “Is that my grandson?”

  “It is, grandfather,” Tom answered through the open doorway.

  “Let him enter,” the King commanded.

  The toy soldiers moved in unison to unblock our entry. Tom breezed by never once letting me go. When we stepped into what appeared to be a bedroom, I felt like a trespasser into a place for family and not for me.

  “Thomas,” the elderly man breathed. Shockingly white hair crowned the older man’s head who sat propped up like a doll in the oversized bed.

  Tom finally let go of my hand, and I held back near the doorway. He made his way nearby to where a woman with hair as black as night, stood. She watched Tom as he sat then leaned over to embrace his grandfather.

  The fragile man wore a pleased expression. “My boy, look how you’ve grown.”

  I glanced between them. The regal man looked kingly even in his last days. Though, he was strikingly different than his grandson. Tom had tattoos that peeked underneath the sleeves of his button-down and wore gray pants that might have been preppy on most boys. But the chain connected to a black belt only added to his don’t mess with me vibe. Plus floppy hair hid one side of his face and head that was shaved nearly bald.

  “Grandfather, you’re looking better.”

  The man had a silk covered duvet that was pulled up nearly to his chin. Long sleeves of what I guessed to be a dressing gown covered his arms, which lay atop the covers at his sides.

  The man with his grave expression raised an arm to point at Tom. The sleeve slipped down a bony arm to reveal paper thin skin that covered bluish veins.

  “Thanks for that, but let us not fool ourselves. You, my dear boy, will make a powerful king.”

  The woman standing near the bed gasped. The stately man slowly turned to face the woman.

  “Miranda, you had to know we failed. If our family shall continue to rule, you must give up your ambitions for Kingship and kneel before your son.”

  I found myself taking closer inspection of the woman. She was pretty maybe even beautiful. However, I found no resemblance between her and Tom. Her face was pinched, and she reminded me more of a stern teacher who wouldn’t take flak from her students.

  She bowed her head. “Yes, father.”

  “I need you to assemble the council.” His voice was strong and didn’t sound like a man on his death bed.

  “In the throne room?” she asked.

  “No, my dear. In here. I’m afraid we are out of time.”

  At that moment, I wanted to leave. There was no one else in the room except for me and another guard almost half-hidden in a shadowy corner far across the spacious room.

  Miranda bowed her head again and left the chamber quickly creating a breeze in her wake.

  “Tom, you must embrace this. They will not bow to you if you don’t look convinced of your position. I know you did not seek this title, but your birth made it so. You will have sons to protect our legacy and soon to establish your foothold in your reign. Remember, there will always be those who will try to take the thrown away from you. Be careful of your friends, keep your enemies close, and never trust anyone… fully.”

  His words made me not for a moment want such a responsibility. How lonely it must be if you could never be truly close to anyone for fear they wanted your death, so they could have your title.

  “Yes, grandfather.”

  “And who have you brought home.” All eyes in the room fell on me. “She isn’t precisely what she appears.”

  The tiny hairs on the back of my neck rose. I had a feeling he knew exactly what I was but refrained from speaking it out loud with guards around.

  “She is mine.”

  Again, I noticed Tom’s interesting choice of phrasing. It might have even sounded romantic if we’d been more than friends.

  “She must be prepared for the challenges she will face. Come closer dear. Let me get a better look at you.” The man held a single finger pointed in my direction.

  I stepped forward feeling all kinds of self-conscious. I stood at the foot of the bed and tried my best not to let a flush cover my cheeks.

  “Well, I can see why she is yours. She is very beautiful. But even beauty can have a bite. Tell me your name little one.”

  “Mercy,” I said respectfully. Despite his words, I didn’t feel quite so little especially compared to his diminutive form. Though, I could feel power coursing through him. It hummed in the room and vibrated through me like nothing I’d encountered before.

  He started to laugh, but that created a coughing fit. “Mercy, is it. I can see why you are called such. Many men must have been brought to their knees by your blinding beauty.”

  I felt the fire sting my cheeks.

  “And she blushes. Is she as innocent as she appears?”

  He spoke to Tom even though his eyes remained on me.

  “She is. But she is fierce and showed Riona her place earlier.”

  An approving smile grew on the kingly man’s face.

  “So I heard. Come dear, sit closer.” He patted the bed on the other side from where Tom sat next to him. “The Wolves are headed our way. Let’s show them exactly what it means to be lion, king of the beast.”

  The clicking of heels preceded Miranda’s appearance. She came and took residence b
ack at the side of the bed where she’d stood before.

  I’d made my way over per the older man’s beckoning hand gestures. He continued to encourage me to sit next to him. So I did. Tom briefly locked eyes with me before turning to face the six men who entered the chamber.

  “My king,” they said as one and kneeled a yard or two away from the foot of the bed.

  “Rise,” the king commanded. They wasted no time getting up. “You’ve been summoned to witness the new succession order. My grandson will be king upon my death. Let that be known.”

  “Yes, my lord,” they chimed in perfect synchronization.

  “And I’d like to introduce my grandson’s potential mate. Don’t let your noses or her beauty fool you. Mercy has teeth and claws as any of us do.”

  They bowed in my direction. I fought another blush because I didn’t want what innocence I had to be seen as a sign of weakness.

  “Tom, you possess the blood of kings for all the generations that held the title before you. You will rule over shifters and were animals of all kinds. The power, you have, is a gift from above, and you will use that gift to protect and serve your subjects as they do you. You will reign until you can pass it to your son or grandson as our family has done for generations.”

  As if choreographed, Tom scooted off the bed and bent on one knee beside it. The hidden guard who was dressed in all black appeared with a gilded sword and handed it to the King. He took it with amazing grace for someone who appeared so fragile. As propped up as he was, he only had to lift it a little to be above Tom’s head. Then he rested it against each of Tom’s shoulders as the stately man spoke. His words were in a foreign tongue, but deep inside, I felt like I understood them to be ceremonial words to pass the torch. It wasn’t an easy guess. It felt as though I was certain of it. Then the King said words meant only for Tom’s ears in a voice so soft I was unable to hear.

  “Mercy,” the King then whispered.

  He tugged on my arm, and I understood he wanted me to come even closer. Clueless, I bent and moved my ear nearer to his lips.

  “I know what you are Cambion, and what you mean to the supernatural community. I trust you are here to help keep my family safe. And for that, I give you my last breath.”

  He pressed an air-kiss to my cheek, and I turned so that he could air-kiss the other knowing many European customs were like that. As my mouth passed over his, without making any physical contact, he surprised me by blowing a forceful breath at me. Or what I thought was air, but I felt the rush of power like no other as it made its way inside me.

  I sat back, eyes wide with shock at what he’d done.

  “To Tom, King,” he finished before his arms went limp at his side as his last true breath escaped him. The sword lay harmlessly in front of Tom as if given as a final gift.

  Air left Miranda's lungs, but she quickly recovered. The pain in her expression vanished, and she straightened to stand a little taller. Tom looked grief stricken before his mother announced, “To the King.”

  A brief second passed as Tom gathered him. He rolled his shoulders forward and stood. The large poster bed suddenly felt like a throne. The heavy furniture looked sufficiently expensive for the job. The room itself was long enough for several dozens of people to congregate and appeared almost empty with only the six men once again dropping to their knees and bowing.

  “Long live the King.”

  Chapter Eight

  Something had changed in Tom, yet he was the same. It only took a moment longer for me to figure it out. The power I’d felt emanating from his grandfather now came from him. How was that possible?

  “My Lord, we must get you ready for the announcement.”

  Tom nodded and briefly glanced in my direction before leaving the room. A few moments after his exit, the kneeling men got to their feet. When they filed out, I was left alone with Tom’s mother.

  “Mercy, is it?”

  I met the woman’s scrutinizing gaze.

  “Yes, mam.” I had no idea what her official title was.

  “Come dear.”

  I walked around and met her at the foot of the bed.

  “My son has only ever talked about one girl to me, and her name was also Mercy. I assume with such an uncommon name; that girl is you.”

  I shrugged. Why had Tom talked about me, especially when he was so adamant about us only being friends? Not that I complained. A friendship was all I wanted, but it was just strange.

  “I know my son better than he thinks. You don’t have to explain your reasons for coming with him. Just know, I know.”

  For all her knows, I remembered what his grandfather said about trusting no one. His mother wanted to be queen. And there she was forced to bow to her son. Were her ambitions bigger than the love she had for her son? I had no idea. Tom had never talked about his parents with me. He hadn’t talked much about himself period.

  “I’ve heard about how you bested Riona, one of our strongest and brightest lionesses. She assumed she would be Tom’s first.” She meant the first of many he would call mates. “Then you showed up. She’s been courting him for years, and he’s given her only the courtesy that is her due. She’s not going to be placated with second place status. You will need to show your claws more than once before the coronation. I shall send you those loyal to me to give you what you require so that you may continue to protect yourself and help protect my son.”

  I nodded. Did she truly know what I was?

  She gestured with a nod of her head in the direction of the guard hidden in shadows. I wasn’t sure if he’d heard the entire whispered exchange. Shifters had extremely good hearing.

  “Take Mercy to her chambers.”

  “Yes, my Queen,” the guard in black said with a half bow.

  I moved to pick up my bag where Tom had laid it on the floor. I glanced up to see the unmoving man on the bed and felt unnerved. It was creepy that we were still in the room with a dead guy. I quickly made my way to the door and managed not to run.

  The red guards on the outside of the door turned inward. One of them corrected the guard in all black who blended in with the shadows. “She isn’t the Queen.”

  The guard quickly amended, “I meant, Queen mother.”

  The red guards shifted to give us room to leave, and I followed in my assigned guard’s wake. He hadn’t offered to carry my bag, which was fine by me. That meant I hadn’t had to come up with an excuse as to why he couldn’t.

  We didn’t go downstairs, or terribly far. Not moving at near breakneck speeds, I could take in my surroundings. The halls were lined with sconces that brightened the space with flickering light. The sounds of our feet were muffled by a royal red rug with woven patterns made with golden thread. We rounded one corner and were bathed in natural light. The wall to our right was made entirely of glass and overlooked an interior courtyard. I was too busy looking, I almost missed that he’d stopped before a door on the left and opened it. He held up a hand and stepped inside. I watched as he thoroughly checked every corner of the room and under the bed. He opened a door that led to an attached room before he waved me fully inside.

  “My lady,” he said and bowed before exiting the room. The door clicked, and I glanced over my shoulder to confirm it was closed.

  Then I took in the grandeur of the place. The room was twice the size of my room at David's, which was too large for one person. Both seemed like a waste of space. The room mirrored the King’s except the opulence was toned-down several notches. A four-poster bed that lacked the throne quality sat at one end and a fireplace at the other. Tapestries with woven pictures of Kings and Queens of the past hung on the walls. I guessed it was to remind whoever stayed in the room of their place. I walked to the window and looked out. The shutters were open, and a cool breezed drifted over my face.

  The land looked small from the height we were at. I could see people moving about on the grounds appearing no larger than the size of carpenter ants.

  “My lady.”

  I
spun around and saw a blonde with bowed head and bent knees. I had no idea how to address the woman.

  “Yes.”

  She held a tray and moved to a table near the fireplace where she set it down.

  “Someone will be here to fit you for a gown.”

  She curtseyed again before disappearing out of the room.

  A hunger I hadn’t known stirred in my gut. I made a beeline for the food when Luke appeared in my path.

  “Jesus,” I said holding a hand to my heart.

  “Not exactly,” he said with a smirk.

  I rolled my eyes not sure what I felt. Part of me wanted to fling myself into his arms. The other wanted to throttle him for his aloofness. I folded my arms across my chest and glared at him.

  When his smile faded, I said, “Do you realize what I went through after you…” I waved my hands as emotions washed over me as I remember watching him get skewered. I didn’t want to cry because I had to be stronger than that.

  He made a move that had me in his arms when the tears broke free. And maybe it was a good thing.

  “I’m sorry for it Mercy.”

  “Sorry,” I said in annoyance. “I thought I lost you forever. And you’re back and acting as if I mean nothing to you.” There I said it. “The Luke I knew would never push me at Flynn.”

  He stepped backward as if I’d taken a swing at him. His voice modulated back to the monotone he’d started using as of late.

  “There are so many things bigger than us. Like have you thought about what you did on that field that night? How you gave life and took it away?”

  I hadn’t. I’d been too caught up in my quest to bring him back.

  “If I gave life why didn’t you wake up on the spot, or it just took you longer?”

  He shook his head. “Giving life isn’t exactly what you did. You don’t have the power to resurrect anyone. But you did give life to Flynn and Tom, who were on the verge of losing theirs.”

  “How?” I asked, desperate for answers. “How did I do it?” Because I had no idea how I had. He glanced down, and I let my hands fall. When he still didn’t answer, I said, “Not you too. What aren’t you telling me?”