Chapter 1
The only good thing Aneera enjoyed about being demoted to servant from Zehev’s wives was that he no longer drank from her blood.
Besides that, her life had been dreadful since she’d returned to House Issian after the festive season. Waiting on her former wife-kin was humiliating. They chided her for being slower than the other servants in preparing their meals or clothes. None of the servants she worked with spoke to her and most of the time she spent the night awake, crying for the life she could’ve had with Rhyel if only her plan had gone right and he wasn’t in love with Sana.
She was hoping she was going to be more useful to Kieka and Zehev after they allowed her to attack Sana and she provided them with a vial of her blood, but they didn’t treat her any differently than the other servants in House Issian. She wasn’t special to them at all.
Wiping a tear that rolled down her cheek before she tied a scarf around her head as she prepared for another day cleaning the quarters of the wives.
She was just like Sana used to be. A peasant with rough hands and tattered clothes. She was nothing and no one.
A heavy knock pounded against the door to the servants quarters before the thick wooden door slid open and the head matron stood with her gray hair braided around her head, dressed in plain red robes while her stoic green-eyed gaze scanned the thirty-bed room.
“Aneera.” She called as her cold gazed swept over her. “Come with me.”
“Yes, matron,” Aneera said, bowing her head and smoothing a hand over the rough fabric of her brown frock before crossing the room.
“Aneera.” The matron heaved a sigh. “I will not keep repeating myself,” she said, sliding her hands to her hips. “You are no longer a Lady or a Noble, you must make your bed yourself.”
The other peasant women getting ready for the day and tidying their area of the room stifled their laughter as Aneera scurried back to her unkempt bed–or cot, rather.
She blinked back her tears as she tidied her bed to the best of her ability. She wasn’t as proficient as the other women who’d grown up making their own beds and looking after others. She was terrible at being a servant.
And she didn’t deserve this treatment or ridicule from people who wouldn’t be allowed to look her in the eyes if things had remained as they were. These commoners were still beneath her and one day she was going to get out of this heinous predicament.
“That’s much better,” the matron said with a smug grin on her pasty white face. “Come. We mustn’t keep the Lord and Lady waiting.”
“Yes, matron,” Aneera murmured, following after the old curmudgeon.
Squeezing her hands together, Aneera kept her gaze on the waxed deep mahogany floors and the servants cleaning the floor to ceiling condoms that overlooked the beautiful coy ponds within the Issian estate.
Soft giggles of teasing laughter assaulted Aneera’s senses as she followed the matron through the main hall where the Ladies of the House gathered in the morning for tea before their breakfast was prepared on the terrace overlooking the lush dewey gardens.
“I don’t think it’ll ever get old seeing her like this,” her former wife-kin, Saija, said with her head of thick black curls, flawless deep brown skin and eyes that glimmered like the sea lived within their depths. “As if she used to be a primary.”
Aneera grit her teeth and clenched her hands into fists at her side. Saija became Zehev’s wife not too long before she arrived at House Issian and Saija was always jealous that she’d become a primary before her.
“It doesn’t matter now,” Marceline said, drinking from her cup of tea as she pierced Aneera with a glare. “She’s where she’s meant to be and now you are too.”
“Too right, Marci.” A dazzling smile graced Saija’s lips and it was as if the sun brightened from her joy. “And Zevi has certainly been making up for it ever since he returned. He probably missed the taste of loyalty among his primary wives.”
“Or the taste of true nobility.” Alora, a primary wife of Lord Zehev’s father, scoffed as she fanned her bronzed skin with a pink cherry blossom fan. “Did you hear the Lightbournes have fallen from grace? The Barshaas have taken over their lands and their seats as the ruling House of the south.”
Aneera dug her nails into her skin as she tried to ignore the gossipping wives speaking ill of her family’s misfortune. The misfortune she inadvertently brought upon them, but Kieka and Zehev promised her no harm would come to her family if she used that displacement spell on Sana. It wasn’t her fault the wraiths appeared or Lord Rhyel went mad for Sana like that.
Everything was Sana’s fault. She brought ruin to the Lightbournes and now everyone thought she was some innocent victim, but no one saw the way she ignited in flames and tried to kill her. No one saw the monster she truly was and now Aneera would never have the chance to show Lord Rhyel who that disgusting snake truly was.
“Lord Zon has requested an audience with you,” the matron said, turning to Aneera as they walked down a long quiet hallway away from the chatter of the main hall. “I’m not sure why His Grace would wish to speak with someone like you, but nonetheless, I must prepare you.” She sighed as her cold green eyes trailed over her as if she were the dirt beneath her shoes.
“What…what do I need to prepare for?” Aneera said, ignoring the disgust in her gaze and the loathing in the matron’s tone as she looked around her to the tall, black double doors at the end of the hall. She’d never been to this portion of the estate and she’d never met Lord Zon. Not too many people ever met him. Not even his wives had audiences with him very often. The only one who ever met with Lord Zon a regular basis was Kieka.
Aneera always found that odd, but she was more than intrigued that Lord Zon would want to see her now that she’d been demoted to a servant.
“You must never speak to Lord Zon until he speaks to you first. Your gaze must remain on the floor at all times. No one looks His Grace in the eyes–ever,” the matron said, nodding to the two guards standing outside of the double doors. She took an offered black cloak from the guard and draped it over Aneera’s shoulders, pulling the hood over her head. “This will help you keep your eyes averted.”
“Thank you, matron.” Aneera bowed her head as fear trickled down her spine. She wasn’t sure why she was scared all of a sudden, but these instructions felt ominous as if she were going to meet some sort of being from the netherworld. “Do you…do you know why Lord Zon has requested my audience?”
“I don’t,” she said, placing her hands on Aneera’s shoulders and her icy gaze softened. “Be careful and good luck.”
“Thank you,” Aneera said, clenching her hands in the thick robes as the guards opened the doors.
She slowly stepped inside the dimly lit room illuminated by plumes of green hued fire in black sconces on the deep crimson painted walls. A bed shrouded in sheer gold and red drapes sat at the far end of the room and the iron scent of blood permeated the air, nearly making Aneera gag from the putrid scent. She fought the urge to cover her nose and gripped her robes harder as she swallowed to fight the rising bile.
“Aneera Lightbourne,” a deep cackling voice called. “You have proven to be a wonderful asset to me.”
“Thank you, Lord Zon,” Aneera said, bowing her head. “Forgive me, but I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Mm, you are forgiven, my dear,” he said, chuckling before a fit of coughs overcame him. “Excuse me. I fear I’m getting old and weak, which is why I need you.”
“Y-you, you do?”
“Yes, I felt your tenacity and yearning for love and power the minute you stepped foot on the lands of my great House,” Lord Zon said as he shuffled from his bed and the soft, solemn click of a cane against the sleek mahogany floor as he walked across the room.
Aneera tensed as Lord Zon’s purple robes neared her and his bony, pasty white finger hooked under her chin, lifting her head to his. The fear that trickled down her spine morphed into an odd calmness as she gazed into Lord Zon’s black opaque eyes as if she needed whatever lurked in his sinister depths.
“My son couldn’t see the greatness in you,” he said as a crooked smile splayed across his black chapped lips. “But I can and you’re perfect.”
She should’ve been disgusted by this man who was more skin and bones than a great and powerful Lord, but there was something about him. There was something that lured her to him. It was almost akin to the way she felt for Rhyel and she couldn’t explain it because she didn’t want Lord Zon like she wanted Rhyel, but it was as if she knew he could give her what she needed.
“Perfect for what, my Lord?”
Lord Zon chuckled softly as his black eyes shimmered in the dim light of the room. “For greatness, my Lady and I would love nothing more than to help you realize your dreams,” he said, leaning down to her ear. “I know what your heart desires,” he whispered. “And I want to give it to you.”
Aneera’s heart thumped as warm tingles raced down her spine. She gazed into the depths of Lord Zon’s eyes and saw her desires reflected in his depths. The power she yearned for and the love she coveted were as clear as day and felt so real, so close to her grasp. “Yes…” she breathed. “I…I want it.”
“And will you do anything for it?”
“I will, my Lord,” she said as if she were in a trance. “I’ll do anything for you.”
“Of course you will,” he said, pressing a soft kiss against her cheek. “And you will not fail me, my sweet, sweet, Aneera.”
Sana rested her hands on her knees as she caught her breath. Sweat dripped from her brow and her legs felt as if they were going to crumble into jelly, but it was a beautiful, cold, sunny morning and she was in the back of the pack, per usual, trying to keep up with the warriors and wolves on the run.
“Come on, Sana, we’re nearly back to the castle,” Rhyel said, leaning down next to her. “You can do it.”
A soft laugh left her lips as she looked over at his bright blue eyes and his face void of any sweat or an ounce of exhaustion. “You go ahead,” she said, waving him off. “I hate that I’m always holding you back.”
“You’re not holding me back and I’m not going to leave you in the forest alone,” he said, holding out a flask of water to her. “And you promised to stop saying things like that.”
She sighed, swiping the flask from him as she took a hefty drink of water. “I know,” she said, wiping her mouth. “I’m sorry. I just wish I could be faster and keep up with the other warriors. I’m tired of being an embarrassment.”
“You’re not an embarrassment. I, and all the warriors, are very proud of you,” he said, nodding to the group of warriors running toward them. “And you will get faster the more we do this. It’s only been two weeks, my Lady.”
“I know, I just…I just feel like I’m in a rush,” she said, rubbing a hand over her heart. “I don’t know why, but it feels like we don’t have enough time. Like something is coming.”
“We know what’s coming.” Rhyel took her hand and pressed a kiss against her fingers. “But everything has been quiet since the festive season and I’m sure we have enough time for you to train as much as you need,” he said, pressing his forehead against hers. “We’re okay.”
She took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay,” she whispered, leaning up on her tiptoes and pressing a soft kiss against his lips.
But she’d had this feeling for a little while that something was off and she needed to hurry up and become the General.
“Come on, Lady Sana! We start as a pack and we end as a pack!” Oziel said as the warriors crowded around them. “The wolves of Accalia never leave anyone behind.”
“Hooah!” The warriors pumped their fists.
“Alright,” Sana said, rolling her shoulders. “Let’s go.”
A sensuous grin curled over Rhyel’s lips and sent a flurry of tingles racing through her veins. “That’s my Lady.”
Her anxious feelings aside, she was enjoying learning how to become a warrior much more than she had when she first came to Darcanos. Becoming the General didn’t seem so far fetched anymore and it was partly because she knew she was a phoenix, but a large part of it was because she knew she belonged in Darcanos. This was her home and she felt kin with the people. She wanted to protect them just like Rhyel and the warriors.
Maybe it was the remnants of what happened during the festive season that made her feel so anxious as if the darkness was coming quicker than they anticipated. Maybe it was because she knew the prophecy of the future that made her believe there wasn’t enough time.
Maybe it was all in her head and all she needed to do was focus on getting strong enough to become the General and connect with her phoenix.
A smile graced her lips as she ran with the wolves and warriors around her. Her heart swelled and filled with a sense of purpose as she ran beside Rhyel. She always wanted this place beside him and she couldn’t wait to earn her title as General and Lady of Darcanos.
