Page 1 of Winds of Darkness
The Reaper
Prologue
He waited until Moranna was sleeping. He always did. They had been doing this dance for nearly three years now, ever since he had learned he had sisters.
Two of them.
One full-blooded. One half.
She was pretending she didn’t know what he had found out. He was pretending he didn’t know she knew.
Rayner slid from the bed. Moranna’s naked form didn’t move. The white sheet was draped low, exposing her olive skin. Black hair with vibrant red streaks throughout fanned across the pillow. He hadn’t been asked to fuck her tonight, but he would have. Anything to keep her focus on him rather than his sisters. She never forced him, as if she were some benevolent master over all of them. As if they were given such a choice.
Wise choices.
That’s what she always encouraged them to make.
He’d declined the first few times she’d asked him to come to her bed, finding the idea … awkward to say the least.
He had just been assigned as one of her personal guards after over two decades of training. Two decades of learning to wield ashes as weapons. Two decades of learning to move among the smallest amount of smoke. Two decades of violence and brutality and helping to keep those beneath him in check. It was the natural order of things. He was one of the most powerful Fae on the Southern Islands. Power dictated status. There were few above him, which is why he had been promoted to one of the Baroness’s personal guards. He hadn’t realized that included serving her ineveryway.
But the first time he’d declined her invitation to her bed, he’d spent the night in a cold sweat. He hadn’t slept at all. Anxiety and fear had clawed at him throughout the darkest hours of the day. There wasn’t anything in particular that had him pacing around his windowless quarters. He was one of the few Fae who had more than a small bedchamber, but none of the spaces had windows. Not when they were housed inside enchanted cliffs. A colony hidden away from the world for their own protection. If others discovered what kind of power they had, they would want it for themselves. The Baroness kept them protected and safe.
That’s what he had been taught to believe.
The second time he had declined her invitation, he’d spent the entire night paranoid that someone had found them. He’d wandered around the various levels of the cliffs like a madman. Not wanting to tell anyone about what was going on and appear weak, he had performed his daily duties without any reprieve the next day.
A few days later, the Baroness had requested he accompany her into one of the producing rooms. He’d never been in one. One of the few rooms he did not have unlimited access to. He’d followed the Baroness up her private endless staircase, her red gown swishing around her ankles. She’d looked back over her shoulder at him, a coy smile he wasn’t sure what to do with on her lips, before she held her palm to the door. He’d felt the wards fall, recognizing her touch, and she’d beckoned him to follow her in. When he did, he’d fallen still. There was a young Fae cowering in a corner, tears streaming down her face. She could scarcely be past her first bleeding. She certainly hadn’t entered her Staying yet. Her golden hair was a mess, and she was in a nightgown, not the usual white linen shirts and pants everyone wore in the cliffs. Her icy blue eyes werewide and full of terror. A male stood off to the side, arms at his sides, wearing only loose-fitting pants.
“I’ve tried, your Grace,” he’d said, his eyes fixed on the ground.
“I know you have, Tyrion,” the Baroness had replied sympathetically. “Unfortunately, we need her wind magic, or she would be assigned elsewhere.”
The male had said nothing in response, just stood waiting, his eyes never leaving the floor.
The Baroness had moved forward, crouching down before the female. The young Fae had scrambled back, pressing into the corner. “Please, your Grace. Please do not make me do this.”
“But youwantto do this, my dear,” she’d coaxed softly, reaching out and brushing back a strand of hair from the girl’s face. Her red-painted nail slid along her jaw until she pressed it beneath her chin, tilting her head up. “My sweet child, I need that wind magic to be shared with Tyrion. You desire that too, don’t you?”
“I …” She’d faltered, her brow furrowing. She’d shaken her head as if coming out of a trance. “No. I do not want this.”
Rayner had watched as the Baroness’s lips tipped up into a pleased smile. “You are strong as well. Good,” she’d purred. Faster than Rayner could track, the Baroness was gripping the female’s jaw, and the girl let out a whimper. He’d forced himself to stay rooted to the spot. “You will do this, Catelyn. And for your insolence, you will not enjoy it, even though Tyrion would have made sure you did. But now you have lost such a privilege. Perhaps next time, you will make wiser choices.”
Rayner felt fear and torment and …lustripple in the room. He shouldn’t feel any power in this room. The walls were made of shirastone to stop Fae from using their power.
Then again, it never stopped him from riding among the ashes.
But the power ripple was not what shocked him. It was that it came from the Baroness. He had always known she was powerful, despite never knowing what her actual gifts were. How else would she maintain control over the hundreds of Fae on these islands? He knew now. The Baroness could manipulate emotions.
She’d stood, staring down at the young female. “But Catelyn?”
“Y-yes, your Grace?” she’d stammered, her gaze fixed on the floor.
“If there is a next time, you will face punishment at the hands of my Ash Rider.”
The young female had paled even more, her eyes darting to Rayner, who could only stand there. Just as rumors swirled of the Baroness’s power and how you did not wish to be on the receiving end of it, rumors swirled of his own abilities. Some true. Some false. All manipulated by the female who ruled over them.
As Rayner had followed the Baroness out of the room, he’d glimpsed Tyrion moving towards the girl. He’d quickly pulled the door shut behind them. As it clicked into place, the wards reconnecting, the Baroness had turned to face him.
