Dreams Made Flesh Read Online Free PDF Page B

Kaeleer, and Hell.
    "High Lord."
    He stopped and looked over his shoulder. "No. Terreille is enemy territory. She shouldn't be there, and she certainly shouldn't be there alone."
    "The Keep iss protected."
    He knew that, but the need to protect…a need that was part of what made a Warlord Prince so deadly…was swelling in him until he couldn't think past it, couldn't feel anything but the drive to defend his Queen.
    "Ssaetan."
    Centuries of training made him hesitate.
    "Sshe doess not expect you until dawn."
    He fought a vicious internal battle, instincts warring with training.
    "Come," Draca said, her voice gentled with understanding. The door of the common room silently opened, untouched by any hand. "I will have yarbarah brought for you. When you are needed, you will be nearby."
    He closed his eyes. Breath by breath, he pulled himself back from the killing edge, that state of mind that stripped Warlord Princes of the veneer of civilized behavior…and was an intrinsic part of their nature. When he was sure he wouldn't respond by striking out with lethal intent, he opened his eyes, and said, "Thank you. Yarbarah would be welcome."
    He walked past her and entered the common room, feeling as if he'd stepped into a cage. In a way, he had. But he had made the choice to obey. That was the only thing that made staying in that room tolerable.
    Removing the cape, he dropped it over a chair, then walked to the windows that overlooked one of the many gardens. He heard a servant enter and set the blood wine and a glass on a table, but he kept his eyes focused on the garden… and the night sky. And waited for the long hours to pass until dawn.
    THREE
    « ^ »
    Listening to the voices just beyond the kitchen, Marian watched batter drip from the wooden spoon back into the mixing bowl, nervous that even the quiet sound of a spoon against a bowl might call attention to herself. It wasn't likely anyone would notice sounds in the kitchen if she continued making breakfast. No one in her family noticed she was around unless there was some hearth-Craft they wanted done. But there was something about the anger and desperation edging her father's wheedling voice and the strained annoyance in her mother's that made her draw her wings in tight to her body in a defensive gesture and want to play leastin-sight.
    "Hell's fire, woman," her father said, his voice rising. "It's not so much to ask. I need the errand done, and I need it done now."
    "Why can't it wait until after breakfast? One of the girls…"
    "No." A pause. "A Priestess-in-training and a Healer-in-training can't take valuable time away from their studies for something simple like this. Besides, Marian isn't doing anything important. She won't be missed."
    Marian pressed her lips together as she looked at the biscuits ready for baking.
    She wouldn't allow her father's words to cut her this morning. She wouldn't.
    Besides, she'd been hearing that sentiment in one way or another her whole life…
    more in the past few years since her younger sisters had been accepted into training. A hearth witch was a convenience, but her skills wouldn't enhance the status of a family who wasn't aristo, wouldn't aid her father's ambition to be more than a Fifth Circle guard for a light-Jeweled Queen.
    She heard her mother's exasperated "Very well, then" and went back to mixing the batter as Dorian entered the kitchen. Her mother hesitated, then moved briskly to the table where Marian was working.
    "You heard," Dorian said.
    "Hard not to," Marian replied, keeping her attention on the mixing bowl.
    With a huff, Dorian pulled the bowl and spoon out of Marian's hands. "Well, go on then.Take care of this errand that's got him so bothered and get back here as quick as you can."
    "To do more things that are unimportant?" Marian asked, surprised to hear the resentment that had been building inside her for a long time actually color the words.
    Dorian's face flushed with temper, but she kept her voice low. "Don't