A War of Silver and Gold Read online

  I didn't want to forget.

  She took a deep breath and lunged forward, her sword clattering with Ana's.

  She knew that her muscles remembered. She knew it because when she pulled the sword back, there was nothing in front of her, but darkness and dust and cracking bones and iron yielding.

  + + +

  Cassia returned from the training fields, her clothes bloodied, but not by her blood or Ana's. The blood belonged to a soldier who had stepped in Ana's place.

  Cassia bathed the blood off her, washed her hair from the mud that clung to her scalp like crimson vines and dried by the fire in her chamber.

  She slipped into a white, plain dress afterwards. She sprayed lavender fragrance over her and pinned her hair up with winter flowers. Cassia loathed every bit of her attire, but it made her forget and that was enough, enough for a moment of silence in the cavities of her mind.

  She left her room, prepared to meet with the lycan. The creature had earned a place among them; it was, after all, what the norms commanded. Cassia placed her hand on the panels of the wooden door and pushed enough to see only the light of the blazing embers on the hearth.

  Night had fallen quicker than usual, an unnerving darkness taking over the lands.

  That was something that upset her; something was interfering with her city. She could feel it in the air around her, prickling at her skin like sharp needles. Cassia knew, then that something dark lurked in every shadow and every scion coming from the King’s spite.

  "Don't kill me, please."

  The essence terror in the voice snapped Cassia’s connection with her thoughts. The lycan. She remained behind the door, silent, not going to announce her presence, yet.

  "Don't kill me. You healed me."

  "You must die for me to save my City."

  Nadeer. That was her voice.

  "I don't understand. I just wanted to be free from him."

  "No, creature, you can never be free from him. Your father knew it that was why he fed you to the lycans."

  "I don't know you."

  "Of course you don't." Nadeer sneered. "When I was born you were supposed to have been dead."

  The familiar sound of a blade tearing through the air clashed the world around Cassia and filled her with malice. That traitorous bitch priestess. If Cassia could get her hands on that vile female, she would do a lot worse than killing her with a mere fatal blow.

  "I don't know you." The lycan pleaded.

  "I am your sister, dear Ael Abertron."

  Sister? I should have known, but nothing makes sense.

  Cassia pushed the door open silently; Nadeer didn't hear her, her dagger was still pressed on the lycan's throat.

  The Lady pulled the golden knife from her belt and took one calculated step forward, honed from years spending as a spy.

  Lunging forward with incredible speed, Cassia grabbed Nadeer by the hair, pulling her away from the creature on the bed.

  Cassia nudged Nadeer’s left leg, throwing the blonde on her knees with a grunt. She wiggled, trying to escape the steel grasp of the Lady, but Cassia kept her hands tightened onto platinum hair.

  She kicked the dagger away from Nadeer’s reach and hauled her head back, the golden dagger on the Lady’s hand threatened to bite onto the white throat, permanently marring the skin.

  Nadeer winced and prodded, trying to get out of Cassia’s grasp, but the dark haired she-elf snarled at her and pressed the dagger dominantly on her flesh.

  It was of little concern to Cassia if Nadeer was a priestess or a goddess or an angel. If the Lady wanted to see blood on the tiles, she knew no morality and ethics.

  "If you dare to make a move, Nadeer then I will slit your throat."

  Nadeer flinched, but she could go nowhere. The lycan glanced at Cassia; maybe he wished he should have let Nadeer slice his throat, because when he took a look at the dagger on Cassia’s hand he fell off the bed, crawled away, hiding behind it. Cassia ignored him.

  "You are going to let the traitor live, my Lady?"

  Traitor.

  Cassia tugged at her hair. Nadeer winced and thrashed against Cassia.

  "You were the one that begged me to spare him, priestess."

  "He needs to fall by my blade to avenge my father."

  "Lord Abertron is your father, Nadeer?" Cassia leant down to her ear, tightening the hold on her hair and hissed. "You hid that information from me."

  "He has to die."

  "Not anymore, he survived from the Daraham; he is a member of the city now, under my protection."

  "He is a lycan." Nadeer shouted, but Cassia would have none of it. She slammed her knee into the priestess rib cage, the delicate bones cracked at the impact.

  "I believe that he was a Nevdor before your benevolent father fed him to the lycans if I heard correct."

  "You don't know what you are doing."

  "Oh, but I do." A snarl formed over the Lady’s lips, coating her mind in the utter essence of death.

  If Nadeer had any magical power inside her, then she should have used it on the Lady. Cassia dragged the priestess down the stairs, bones crackling against the marble and skin bruising. Cassia was a warrior; she didn’t even care about Nadeer, not as long as she tried to kill one of her own citizens. Priestess be damned!

  Nadeer twisting, biting, swearing and cursing, but Cassia shoved her off the stairs. The useless batch of bones and skin tumbled down the stairs, but before Nadeer could hoist herself up and run, run to save her pitiful life, Cassia pulled her up again and bound her upon Bluemane.

  Cassia’s mind had gone black, a monster inside her had been unleashed, a monster that didn’t hesitate to kill and gut and incinerate.

  She mounted the horse and galloped outside the borders of the city. The winter clung onto her skin, but she was used to it by now.

  Dismounting the horse, Cassia stood for a moment in the woods, just outside the gates. Her eyes glimpsing snowy ones, feral and unyielding, behind the low bushes and small trees. Soft growls blended with the grunting of the winds. White fur illuminated under the dim light. Ears pointed at the rim, like Cassia’s elven ones. The trees whistled a low, ghastly melody.

  The wolves had returned from the West.

  Cassia sheathed her dagger. She twisted on the saddle, unbinding Nadeer and throwing her on the ground, the snow slapping against the skin of the priestess.

  No matter how much she screamed, cursed Cassia and sworn to the gods of the Adanei that she would destroy the Lady, Cassia didn't answer her assaults. She kept her glance at the wolves and their grey eyes. She spared a glance at Nadeer, the skin of the female had turned red, angry and cold, but Cassia couldn’t care less. This was her opportunity to decimate the ranks and priestesses in the Temple.

  Nadeer shot to her feet. "What are you doing, monster?" Cassia hissed, hand reaching for the flog on the side of the saddle. Nadeer took several steps back. "What are you doing?"

  "Nadeer, pray to your gods to save you."

  "Curse you, monster."

  Cassia turned her head and glared at the priestess. "There are two kinds of beasts, Nadeer." A wolf took an uncertain step away from the bushes. "People like me and the one that's behind you."

  Cassia galloped into the city, the heavy doors closing behind her. She listened carefully for Nadeer's screams echoing throughout the forest.

  "I curse you, Cassia to see your mate dying and your land becoming sterile."

  Cassia moved away from the borders of the city, but she could still listen to the screams of the priestess as the beasts of the West devoured her like a prized meal.

  I curse you, Cassia to see your mate dying and your land becoming sterile.

  But Nadeer didn't know that Cassia’s mate was dead.

  She had felt him dying, though she had never known him; she had felt him through that incandescent bond, she never knew existed until that night, when she had woken up with an unknown name on her lips.

  Cassia shook her head; she didn't even
remember the name.

  Nadeer didn't know this and she didn't know that her land was already so sterile that nothing but snow and old, burnt trees could remain standing. No curse could have made her more miserable than she already was.

  6

  Cassia bound the horse in the stables and marched upwards towards the castle.

  It was a blasphemy to the gods, to everything holy and pure. Cassia had never been religious. The gods had already forgotten her, she only reciprocated the feeling. That was who she was, an insolent child from a noble household.

  Cassia took the ornate, dark staircase and walked down the lycan’s room.

  She set her jaw and pushed through the door, anxiety rushing down her spine, prickling at the edges of her mind. He could have left, he could have run away.

  Her equilibrium was suddenly knocked out of place. Her breath catching in her throat.

  She was pushed back against the wall, door slamming shut with a thunk. Her shoulders contracted against it, the sharp stones of the walls bit into her skin like sharp, hot needles. Had she known better, she would have reached for her dagger.

  Cassia’s eyes flickered to her assaulter’s.

  It was a marvel to see the strange, handsome face contorting from that scared being, pleading the priestess a few moments ago, into a monster with fangs and claws and incredible muscle, but tantalising eyes that reminded her of someone else’s.

  Her father’s.

  A heavy weight gathered at her stomach as her past returned to haunt her in the ethereal and wiry form of a wolfish monster.

  She hadn't seen her father's eyes in a long time; it must have been about three hundred years the last time she gazed into them.

  An animalistic growl escaped from the lycan. Her nostrils flared as anger became a hot iron and nudged her to drive the dagger into his.

  She couldn't, though.

  Not when his eyes reminded her of the only male she had felt a twitch of affection. She blinked, shaking herself out of the arcane thoughts that willfully chased her.

  The dagger on her waist called out to her with a melody so bewildering and exhilarating, daring her in a clandestine voice to wrap her deft fingertips around it. Her scarce morality jabbed at her side and didn't accord her the privilege of choosing.

  She couldn't hurt him. He was as much Dark Elf as she was.

  She harrumphed and straightened underneath the considerable height of his muscled form. He was taller than her, towering above. His eyes fixated on the mismatched ones of the she-elf. It felt like their positions had been reversed, and he was now the hunter and her; the hunted.

  A pang of remorse hit her like cold water. Blue, maybe the bluest eyes she had seen apart from her father's.

  His body pressed flush against her. Cassia tilted her head up, meeting a heated gaze of sapphire blue. She narrowed her heterogeneous eyes; the left blue and the right green. It was a battle of stares erupting in sparkles around them. Cassia stood her ground. The stern General never lost a battle, she never learned how.

  No man, no matter how-

  She averted her eyes away from the elf’s nakedness. A demanding, hateful blush rising onto her pale cheeks. She cursed and swore under her breath. Cassia never, never, never blushed.

  She barked at her femininity and managed to rip it in two with her talons. She had more important things in her head than to gawk at a naked male. Maybe it had been many years since the last time she took one in her bed. She would have never let her urges get in her adamantine head and cloud her judgement.

  Warm smoky breath splayed itself all over her cold flesh, donning her gooseflesh over her covered arms. Sensing the close proximity of the lycan's mouth to her own lips, Cassia pulled her head to the side and cleared her throat.

  She tipped her chin up, her hands curling into fists. Her throat bobbed. "Maybe you should let me go."

  He growled, deep and thorough. "Why should I do this? You plugged that knife in my chest and dragged me behind your horse in the city."

  "I believe I saved your life, lycan." Cassia shot the hybrid a sharp glance. "You can thank me now for stopping the priestess from slitting your throat open."

  "I could have killed her and ran away."

  "My priestess has been taken care of." She raised an eyebrow. "You have something for me though. That's why you didn't run while you still had the chance."

  "Maybe I should run away."

  "You have nothing to be afraid of here."

  "Maybe you will drag me out of bed and strap me to your horse."

  "You earned your place in the City."

  He chuckled bitterly.

  "That's the way things happen here."

  She bit the inside of her cheek drawing blood, the tissue breaking underneath in an inelegant way; her tongue coated itself in the metallic taste of her blood. She swallowed as slowly as she could, savouring the essence of blood before she trained her eyes on the wall behind the Elf. He took a step away.

  "I came here to deliver you a message, not to die."

  Her eyes snapped back to his and she gritted her teeth. "What message?"

  "The Adanei didn't attack your City unprovoked."

  She clenched her hands, an abusive shiver trying to find its way out of her. "What do you mean 'unprovoked'?"

  He approached her, hands bracing on either side of her head against the wooden door. His breath was, once again, hot on her clammy face. She didn't know why, but somehow she involuntarily relaxed her mental shields. If she had known better she would have pulled her dagger before she had entered the room, and she would have slain the lycan. She had never hesitated before.

  She went rigid. He leant closer sniffing at the length of her neck. If her femininity had not been turned to ashes from the flames of her past, she would not have thought a second time about surrendering herself to that peculiar amalgamate of an elf he was. He was handsome, strong, but she was too preserved and prejudiced, valued her freedom too much. She couldn't do this; she could never have surrendered the trust that entailed with her body to an unknown lycan.

  "Where is your mate?" His question came out blunt, cutting through the many layers of unyielding iron she had placed all around her.

  "Dead."

  It didn't hurt Cassia to admit it. She had learnt to live in hardness and winter; it was what she was made of. Never meeting her mate was something that didn't bother her. She never wanted to have offspring and she never wanted to have a shoulder to cry on or arms to comfort her. His death spared her the pains of living with a dominating Dark Elf and bearing his children. She never wanted to be the breeding mare of some random male. She was independent, wrought from silver and blood. Never, anyone could have owned her.

  He hummed softly against her neck. Cassia suppressed another shiver. "How do you know? You don't bear his scent."

  "That's not your bloody business." She hissed and pushed him. "You came here to deliver a message then be done with it."

  "Easy, lioness."

  "Go on, Ael tell me."

  "Oh! I see you know my name."

  "Nadeer mentioned it."

  "Sure she did."

  "She healed your wounds."

  "Yes, her shameful fragment of magic."

  "She helped you; I would have let you rot."

  He pulled back, hands against the door, his eyes piercing through hers. "The Adanei sent me."

  Her eyes twitched and the muscles on her arms flexed.

  "I am the Captain of the Guard of the Lord of Feremony, but I had been assigned to Lord Argoth. He sends his regards by the way."

  "Argoth's an exception among the Light Elves."

  "He mentioned something similar for you." Cassia nodded, urging him to continue. "Feremony obviously must have sent the Tablin to one of your towns and the lycans were sent to fight back because your armies are gathering on our frontiers and had killed several guards of the Adanei."

  She shook her head, sucking on a tooth. "I sent no one."

  "Lord Argot
h believes the King is acting on his own accord."

  Cassia was surpassed with a need to bit her tongue, stop herself from protecting the honour of her King. She tapped her left foot in anger and gritted her teeth. Her eyes flickered lower than his midriff for a moment, watching the hard muscles flex beneath taut, tan skin. "You better get dressed."

  "I think you like what you see, Lady Cassia."

  "Arrogant bastard, go dress up and then we can talk."

  He turned around, grabbed the clothes on the chair by the bed and dressed. He slipped into his pants and threw on the white linen shirt. It was somehow disappointing, even though she had nothing to do with a lycan; her own hidden femininity had somehow surfaced. Lycans were as beasty as Dark Elves were; nakedness was not something to be shunned in their culture. It was what Nature had given the species, it was sacred.

  "Are you alright now, Lady?"

  She waved her hands, dismissing his cocky tone. "You may continue with the deliverance of your message."

  He frowned as he tucked the shirt into his pants and grabbed the leather jacket. "Argoth said that you can be trusted among the Nevdori because of your human heritage."

  Cassia rolled her eyes at the mention of her mother's blood that ran thick inside her. "Argoth is naive. What assurance he has that I won't run and tell my King?"

  "I think he trusts your morality and your hate for your grandfather."

  "The King is no family to me."

  "Your father was his son, wasn't he?" He smiled and turned around to look at her better. He huffed in annoyance. "I believe you have your father's...” He surveyed her mismatched eyes. “Eye, and there is something with the way you talk. You emit that anger." He shook his head chuckling to himself. "Definitely Sherathos' daughter."

  A shudder erupted down her back like a volcano of anger at hearing her father's sacred name from the beast's mouth. She tried to ignore the fact he knew her father, perhaps known him more than she could have ever succeeded in knowing him. She had almost forgotten her father's name and her mother's name.