Betrayer: (The Cursed Bloodstone Book 1)
Betrayer: Chapter 8

“Sol, wake up.”

I try to shift away from the hand against my arm, that insistent hand that keeps pushing on me.

“Wake up.”

I blink through gritty eyes and glimpse Kassandra kneeling beside the bed.

“Oh, thank Olah,” she says. “You’re awake. I feared you were dead.”

Death would be easier than this, waking in a Bloodstone warrior’s bed.

Several times during the night, I woke with a start, and jerked my gaze to where Gabriel sat. He never moved, never spoke, but I knew he was awake. It was the position of his body. He never slumped forward. He sat stiffly, his focus trained on that tent flap, as though he would murder the next person who dared to step through.

I rise to sit as Kassandra gasps.

“Oh, Sol. Your cheek.”

With trembling fingers, I lift them to the ache and trace the stitches. Sympathy shines in Kassandra’s eyes as she watches me for several moments before speaking.

“Gabriel told me what happened last night. I’m to help you get ready for the council.”

“The council?” I whisper, my words hoarse.

“You need water.” Kassandra hurries from the tent and returns a moment later with a goblet brimming with water. “Here. Drink this.”

I comply and take a greedy drink. Only after I fully quench my thirst, do I lower the goblet.

Kassandra takes it from me. “I’ll replace you something clean to wear. Then, I’ll take you to the council.”

As promised, Kassandra provides a clean surcoat. I bathe with the herbs she supplies and don the soft garment.

The moment I’m finished, she pulls me from the tent. Another humid summer day wraps around me as I follow her to a circular tent, where dark gray Bloodstone flags stab the ground in front of the structure. The serpent coat of arms etched into the fabric taunts me, bringing back memories of a different night. A different place.

That night, the Bloodstone people rode into my village and slaughtered nearly everyone. They left the survivors with fire in their bellies. Survivors like me.

Mother is the reason I’m here, and she is the reason I cannot leave. No brute in the middle of the night will steal my revenge. Esmund attacked me, but he didn’t destroy me. Gabriel made sure of it.

I stab my thumbnail into my palm and exhale. One day, I may even have to thank him, but not yet.

Frankincense burns from a single brazier, and a long, rectangular table occupies the center of the tent. Five men sit on the far side, waiting for me. I recognize three of them. Luc, Gabriel, and Cenric—the man who executed those four Malachites.

The other two council members are young too. They wear the same type of armor, the combination of leather and mail.

Luc points to an empty seat across from them. Kassandra follows me to the table and sits next to me. I exhale and fold my hands in my lap. Thank Olah, they allowed her to join me.

Luc studies me for several breaths before speaking. “Are you well, Sol?”

Unconsciously, my fingers lift to my cheek, to the stitches. I rip my hand free. “I’m well.”

“Gabriel gave me a full account of what happened last night. Esmund should have never attacked you.” Luc glances at the quiet man next to him. “Gabriel did what was needed to assure your safety.”

I blink, but the imagery of Gabriel ripping the sword out of my assailant’s throat still sears my vision.

Find your calm.

I swallow and make myself speak. “I know.”

“Are you well enough to proceed?” Luc asks, bringing my focus back to him.

A part of me, a very large part of me, wants to say no. “I’m well enough.”

“Great.” Luc steeples his hands together and continues. “This is my council. You already know Gabriel, my first commander.” Luc points to the other three men. “And these men are my captains—Aston, Cenric, and Gray.”

I nod at the men.

“Do you know why you’re here?” Luc asks.

“Yes. I wish to stay here.” I nod toward Gabriel. “And he doesn’t want me to.”

The warrior in question stares solemnly, his expression giving no hints to what lies beneath his stern brow.

“Why do you want to stay here?” Luc asks. “Are we not your enemy?”

“I am an outcast among my people.” Familiar bitterness tugs at my chest. There’s a truth to my words, I haven’t faced until now. First, they removed me from their apothecary. Then, I ran away. They wouldn’t welcome me back.

“You healed my sister,” Luc supplies.

Leah is his sister?

I should have been able to learn more about the Bloodstone people. Surely, it would have helped me.

“She was ill. I treated her ailment. My people can bring people back from the brink of death.”

My people have many powerful gifts—gifts I long for. Kyanite healers bring people from death’s clutches, weave peaceful dreams, cure failing crops, rid trees of diseases, and purify water and food. In truth, there’s very little a Kyanite cannot do to improve something.

“Are you not able to wield such magic?” Luc asks.

“Not to that degree.” Not at all.

Gabriel speaks, his tone stiff and frigid. “There’s no room for someone like you here.”

“But I’m a healer.”

“Apparently not a good one.” His words bruise my pride, the same pride wounded every time I failed to please the Kyanites at the apothecary.

A frown wrenches at Kassandra’s mouth, but she doesn’t speak as she places her hands against the table, palms facing down.

“I healed Leah,” I say. “Something your healers couldn’t do. I’m valuable.”

“Sol has a fair point, Gabriel,” Luc says.

“She is a Kyanite.” Gabriel folds his arms and stares through me as if I’m not sitting here. “She should return to her people.”

“Gabriel is right,” Cenric says as he runs his fingertips against the table, his movements slow, purposeful. “The Kyanite cannot stay here.”

No. I cannot fail.

Think of something. Anything.

You have come too far to fail now.

My body wasn’t enough to convince Gabriel to let me stay. My healing wasn’t enough to convince Luc. There’s only one thing left of value. Only one avenue.

“I will marry one of your warriors.” The words turn to decay inside me. It has been summers since I thought about marrying. But I can be a wife if being one brings me closer to my Fate.

Gabriel opens his mouth and snaps it closed.

Perfect.

I surprised the angry warrior into silence.

Luc’s green eyes narrow as he studies me. I don’t fidget. Out of all these men, he’s the most powerful. If I win him over, I win them all over.

I lift my chin a fraction and speak in an even tone. “Name him, and I will marry him.”

Luc’s eyebrow rises. “Why are you eager to remain here?”

“I told you. I am an outcast. I want to belong to something greater than myself. I want to serve you.”

Gabriel scoffs. The sound burrows beneath my skin and prods at my temper. I exhale and keep my focus on Luc.

“Please let me belong here. Let me serve your people with my healing and allow me to marry one of your warriors. You need more women, and you need someone with my capabilities.” Even though I have heard their men outnumber their women, I don’t know if it’s factual. I cling to the hope anyway.

Luc sinks back against his chair and studies the parchment on the table, as if the words alone will give him the answer he seeks.

“No,” Gabriel says, his tone final.

I don’t look away from Luc. I cannot, not when he’s holding my Fate in his hands. Not Gabriel. Never Gabriel. He will never have such power over me.

“Please.” I allow my desperation to echo in that one word.

Finally, Luc looks up. Something stirs behind his eyes. Compassion? “You will stay, and I will replace someone for you to wed.”

My heart leaps for joy and shatters. Now, I’ll have to keep my pledge to marry a Bloodstone warrior.

“Luc,” Gabriel begins, then he tightens his mouth into a firm line.

“Sol saved my sister’s life, Gabriel. I can’t just send her back.”

“I will serve you.” I have won the first battle. Despite Gabriel’s objections and my trepidations, I won.

“Luc,” Kassandra says, drawing his attention to her. “May I speak?”

He nods. “Of course.”

She glances at me for a breath before talking, her voice soft. “Sol has the serpent mark. I saw it on her wrist when I took her to the river to bathe.”

My breath catches as I force my hands to stay folded and not reach for my wrist.

Doubt festers in Luc’s eyes as he cast his gaze between Kassandra and me. “That’s impossible.”

“It’s not.” Loose strands of hair fall over her shoulders as she nods toward me. “Show them.”

“Never show anyone what the gods cursed you with.” Father’s words pierce my ears.

“I don’t…” I swallow through the sudden grit in my throat. “…see how that has anything to do with my desire to wed one of your warriors.”

“It has everything to do with it,” Luc says curtly. “Show me.”

I reach for my sleeve and grip the hem with all my strength. For ten summers, I have hid the mark. Now a Bloodstone warrior is asking me to show him.

I dart my eyes between Luc and Kassandra. She offers an encouraging smile.

“Please.” I choke out.

I gasp when Gabriel reaches across the table, grabs my right hand, and flips it over.

“Don’t,” I hiss as he yanks up my sleeve with his free hand.

Sunlight streaks through the open tent flap, engulfing the white mark. The hissing serpent laughs at me, as it has since it appeared the summer Mother died. Father said it was a cursed handed down from the high gods, though he never explained why they cursed me.

I try to tug away, but Gabriel’s grip tightens.

Luc’s eyes widen as he stares at what the gods did to me. “Gabriel, she has the—”

“—no!” As quickly as Gabriel grabbed me, he lets go and folds his arms.

“You cannot ignore the Seer, Gabriel,” Kassandra says in a soft voice.

The Seer?

What Seer?

“Hades!” Anger and frustration collide across Gabriel’s brow as he lurches from his chair.

Luc stands and grabs Gabriel’s arm. “Don’t leave.”

“I don’t want anything to do with this,” Gabriel says through his teeth.

“You don’t have a choice.” Luc yanks Gabriel back to his seat.

“Are you willing to marry the man of my choosing?” Luc asks after a moment.

“I am.” There’s no better way to prove my commitment to them. They must allow me entrance into their world, their city, their trust. Then, I can walk among them and fulfill my destiny.

I will avenge you, Mother.

“Good.” A smile stretches across Luc’s mouth. “You will marry Gabriel.”

Gabriel? I would rather wed a scorpion.

Its bite would prove less deadly than the angry warrior.

Luc’s smile widens. “Gabriel is unwed, and he could use a wife. You will wed him.”

I wait for an objection or a scoff from Gabriel. Anything. He remains strangely quiet.

Maybe he thinks I will do enough objecting for both of us.

I will not.

“If it pleases you,” I begin, “then, I will marry him.”

Gabriel doesn’t react. He does nothing but stare. Outwardly, I remain a shell of humble placidness. Inwardly, I imagine running.

I’d run so fast, my hair would stream out behind me. My surcoat would lash my legs. I wouldn’t look back.

“When shall we marry?” I direct my question toward the solemn man, who probably thought I would object, so he could send me back to my people.

“Now,” Gabriel says, “if it pleases you.”

Challenge accepted, warrior.

“It pleases me.” The words turn to dust in my throat.

Gabriel slides his eyes over me, his assessment thorough as if we’re alone, and he imagines me naked. “The quicker, the better. I’m famished.”

“Then, I hope our union pleases you.”

A smirk tugs at the upper corner of Gabriel’s mouth. “I can think of a thousand ways you could please me.”

“Gabriel.” Luc stands. “You can verbally spar with Sol later. As for now, you must take her to the Seer.”

I dig my nails into my left palm, jabbing my skin instead of the man I have trapped myself with.

For Mother.

Always for Mother.

Wood digs into the dirt-packed floor as Gabriel stands and jerks his chin toward the door. “Come with me, Kyanite.”

“Sol,” I say.