The Keeper's Retribution: A Chosen Novel (The Keepers Book 2) Read online

  “Neat trick,” she murmured, her thumbs feathering over his neck as she wove her hands into his hair and leaned in to kiss him.

  “I’m full of them,” he murmured against her mouth, biting down on her plump bottom lip.

  Effie whimpered and shifted her weight above him.

  “Am I hurting you?” Lucian asked, sliding his hands under her tunic and up her back, pulling the wet fabric with him.

  “I’m going to hurt you if you stop,” she hissed, trailing hot kisses along his jaw, before sitting back so that Lucian could pull off her tunic.

  All that was left was a transparent scrap of fabric that left little to the imagination. But it was still a barrier between them, and he wanted none. Running his finger down the center of her chest, Lucian hooked it down into the flimsy band and pulled, the soft scrap giving way.

  Effie peered at him shyly, her cheeks flushed and lips swollen from their kisses.

  Lucian swallowed, his blood roaring in his ears as he tried to find the words to tell her how beautiful she was in that moment. Drops of water cascaded down her creamy skin, her wheat-colored hair looking like burnished gold where it clung to her neck. Her thick lashes were dark spikes framing glowing blue eyes.

  Running his eyes down the column of her throat, Lucian paused in his exploration to brush his thumb over the raised, silvery crescent of her scar. The scar itself was horrific, thick and jagged, and running from the base of her neck to halfway across the top of her shoulder. But for Lucian, it was a testament to her fearless spirit. She’d earned it saving his life.

  Leaning forward, he reverently pressed his lips to the mark.

  Effie shivered, her head falling back as she moaned his name. “Lucian.”

  Letting his eyes dip down lower, he watched the rapid rise and fall of her chest as the rosy peaks pebbled, begging for him to take them in his mouth.

  Her breath caught as she waited for his next move. “Touch me,” she begged.

  Curling his arm around her, Lucian pulled her closer until her breasts brushed against his chest.

  She fit against him like a dream, her body built like it was made for him. Sliding his hands from her waist and down over her rounded ass, he flexed his hips up into her center.

  Effie gasped and ground down on him, increasing the friction until Lucian was the one groaning.

  He dipped his head, raining kisses along her velvety soft skin. She arched up into him, fisting her hands in his hair when he finally took one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking hard, palming her other breast with his free hand.

  “Finally,” she groaned.

  Lucian scraped his teeth along the sensitive flesh and pulled back to look at her. “We’re just getting started.”

  Effie let out a strangled breath, dropping her forehead to his. “Who said you could stop?”

  Suddenly she froze in his arms, letting out a hiss that had nothing to do with pleasure and everything to do with pain.

  “Effie?” Lucian asked, worried that he might have accidentally touched one of her injuries.

  “Lucian . . .” His name was a strangled gasp, confusion and fear permeating the word.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, his hands hovering over her skin, afraid to touch her.

  “I—” she broke off with another cry, curling her right arm into her body. “Mother’s tits, that hurts.”

  “What? What’s going on?” Lucian was trying to keep his panic in check, not certain what was happening except that Effie was in a lot of pain. “Is it your ankle?”

  Effie shook her head; the feverish desire he’d seen in her eyes only seconds before replaced with tears. “It’s . . . agony,” she hissed, her back arching as her thighs spasmed around him.

  The veins in her neck jutted out, the muscles in her neck rigid. She gritted her teeth and dug her fingers into her arms as another tremor racked her body. It looked like she was having some kind of convulsion, almost like a slow-motioned imitation of what happened to her when she had a vision.

  Lucian tried to take her in his arms, but Effie let out a low, keening wail as if his touch only caused greater pain.

  He dropped his hands as if she burned him.

  She cried out again, the sound burying itself inside of his chest. She was in pain, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He couldn’t even hold her.

  Not knowing what other option was left to him, Lucian threw back his head and roared.

  “KAEL!”

  Chapter 25

  Embarrassed, frustrated, and more than a little scared, Effie pulled the blanket tighter around her bare shoulders, not ready to face the hooded gazes surrounding her.

  What more could she tell them? It wasn’t like she understood why her body felt like someone had shoved a white-hot rod straight into her bones. One second she’d been blissfully lost to the feel of Lucian’s mouth on her, and the next it felt like she was being melted from the inside out. And not in a good way.

  She’d been too overwhelmed by the searing pain working its way through her to pay much attention, but Kael had come tearing into Lucian’s bathing chamber, only to take one look at them huddled on the floor of the shower to spin back out again.

  By the time her fit had passed, two robed figures and a healer were waiting for her in Lucian’s room.

  The healer had taken care of the worst of her injuries, but there was little he could do about the deep ache in Effie’s muscles. She’d likely be sore for a couple of days.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you?” the elder gentleman asked in a low, soothing voice.

  Effie attempted a smile and shook her head. “No, but my thanks to you.”

  With a little bow, he left the room, leaving Effie to the mercy of the three men surrounding her.

  “What?” she snapped, needing to break the uncomfortable silence.

  “What happened?” Lucian countered.

  Effie shrugged. “I already told you.”

  “You haven’t said shit,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. Lucian’s tanned skin was pale, his eyes all but black as he stared at her. She’d scared him.

  Trying to alleviate some of the tension, she glanced at the men wearing the scarlet robes and asked, “Are you going to let him get away with talking to me like that?”

  “Answer the question.”

  She frowned. “I don’t know what to tell you. Yes, my ankle hurt, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. Then, out of nowhere, this bone-deep ache started working its way through me. The ache turned into a burn, which turned into . . . something. I don’t know where it came from, or why it happened.”

  “How do you feel now?”

  “Fine.”

  Lucian scowled at her, and Effie flinched.

  “Okay, I’m a little sore, but I’m fine. I swear. More embarrassed than anything.”

  And tired, she added to herself. After the day she’d had, all she wanted to do was curl up with Lucian and sleep for a year. Maybe two.

  “What were you doing right before the pain started?”

  Effie went crimson and risked a glance at Lucian. “Taking a shower.”

  “Has anything like this happened before?”

  “No. Never.”

  The questions halted, and Effie wondered if they were talking amongst themselves. Her theory was confirmed when Lucian straightened. She’s suspected for a while that the Triumvirate frequently communicated telepathically with their Guardians, but this was the first time she’d witnessed them doing so. Generally, they made a point to include everyone present in their conversations—at least she’d assumed they had.

  “She’ll stay with me tonight.”

  The two Triumvirate members bowed their heads in agreement.

  “Let us know if anything else of note occurs during the night.”

  Effie looked back to Lucian and could tell from his expression that absolutely nothing of ‘note’ was going to happen between them tonight. He still looked pissed.<
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  She let out a disappointed sigh. Things had been going so well.

  “Rest well, Daughter.”

  “We’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Goodnight,” she called softly as they left.

  The silence stretched, and Effie shifted uncomfortably on the bed when Lucian made no move to come closer to her.

  Staring down at her lap, she wiggled a finger through a tiny hole in the black wool. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

  “Sorry? What the hell for?” Lucian asked, sounding truly baffled.

  “For being a constant inconvenience. It seems like you are always having to deal with me.”

  “You are not an inconvenience.”

  She let out a bitter laugh. “Sure. And you’re not currently plotting the fastest way you can get out of here.”

  Effie heard a rustle of fabric as Lucian crossed the room.

  “You want to know what I’m thinking right now? I’m trying to figure out how to ask you if I can hold you, and knowing that it makes me a selfish bastard to ask anything of you right now.”

  “You-you what?” she asked, her head snapping up.

  Tension was practically rolling off of Lucian. His muscles were tense, his eyes wild. Her Guardian was on the brink, but of what, Effie didn’t know.

  “Of course you can.”

  Lucian closed his eyes, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. He unclenched his hands, flexing the fingers as he sucked in a breath.

  “Lay down,” he demanded.

  She pushed back from the edge of the bed and scooted back until she was on the other side, leaving room for him to sit down beside her.

  Lucian was still wearing the same damp clothes he’d been wearing while showering with her, but he made no move to remove them. Instead, he unlaced his boots and tossed them on the floor and then swung his legs up and rolled to face her.

  “Roll over.”

  She shifted until she was facing the wall, her back facing Lucian.

  Without a word, he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her against him until her back was pressed against his chest.

  Lifting a hand out from the blanket, she ran it along his fisted hand. He let out a breath that sounded suspiciously like a sob, his hand trembling beneath hers.

  “Lucian . . .” She started to lift her head.

  “Sleep, Effie. I’ll watch over you.”

  Lacing her fingers through his, Effie snuggled into the pillow and closed her eyes. After what happened in the treehouse, she didn’t expect to find sleep easily. But her body was exhausted, and it wasn’t long before she drifted off, if not peacefully, at least with the certainty that nothing would dare come for her while Lucian stood guard.

  Chapter 26

  Kieran turned the corner and came to a complete stop when a door opened, side-stepping into an open room to remain hidden. He knew the Guardians resided in this particular wing of the citadel, but it was the quickest route to the Hall of Prophecy, and he had to get this book back before anyone discovered it was missing.

  A soft giggle made him freeze.

  Effie? What in the hell is she doing over here?

  Craning his neck around the doorway, Kieran let out a low hiss as rage started to bubble up within him.

  She took a step into the hallway, wearing a shirt that fell down to her knees. She’d belted it around the waist to try to make it fit better, but there was little to be done to conceal the fact that the garment did not belong to her.

  A low growl sounded in the back of his throat. There’s only one reason a woman would leave a man’s bedroom in the morning wearing his shirt. Kieran didn’t need anyone to tell him just whose shirt it was either.

  His suspicion was confirmed when an arm snaked out of the room and pulled her back.

  Tilting her head up, she gave Lucian a sweet smile, her cheeks a bright pink. “I thought you told me I needed to go eat.”

  Lucian looked down at her, lifting a hand to caress the side of her face. “Not without a proper goodbye.”

  Effie twisted in his arms so that she was resting against the doorframe and facing the shirtless Guardian. “Is that so?”

  Kieran watched the sickening display unfold like a man watching his entire life burn down around him. His knuckles were white where they gripped the wall, his breathing uneven. No. No. NO!

  “What did you have in mind?” she asked, her voice so soft Kieran could only just make it out from where he was hiding.

  Lucian tilted Effie’s chin up, leaning down to run his nose along hers.

  “Tease,” she said, placing her hands on his shoulders.

  Bending slightly, Lucian wrapped an arm just underneath her butt and lifted her up so that her face was level with his. She wrapped her legs around his waist and gave the Guardian a look so heated that a piece of the doorframe broke off in Kieran’s hand.

  He looked down at it in shock, his hands shaking, his nails torn and bloody from digging into the wood.

  Effie’s soft moan had Kieran spinning around and storming down the hall.

  That fucking. Traitorous. Bitch! She’d rather debase herself by spreading her legs for some immortal bastard than be loved by the son of a king? Fine.

  The little slut was no longer worthy of his affections.

  But that didn’t mean Kieran was going to stand by and allow anyone else to have what was rightfully his.

  If he couldn’t have her, no one would.

  Kieran was shaking, barely seeing anything except the image of Effie in Lucian’s arms.

  “You lost?” a deep voice asked.

  Kieran blinked, Kael’s face swimming into view. “Are you?”

  Kael lifted a brow, his green eyes narrowing. “I’m not the one walking around where I don’t belong.”

  “Piss off.”

  “You don’t want to pick a fight with me, princeling.”

  “Maybe that’s exactly what I want to do,” Kieran snarled, moving until his face was inches away from the other man’s.

  “Stand down,” Kael whispered, those weird flecks in his eyes glowing.

  Kieran clenched his jaw. “You all think you’re so much better than me. You have no idea. No. Idea.”

  “You need to calm down.”

  “Make me, Guardian!” Kieran shouted, his rage bubbling over as he swung his fist up.

  Kael dodged, and Kieran’s fist went slamming into the wall. He felt the crack of bone all the way up his arm, but the pain did little to dampen his temper. Pulling his fist back, Kieran moved to strike again.

  The Guardian caught his arm before the blow could land. “What the fuck are you doing? Do you have a death wish, princeling? Is that it?”

  “Maybe I’m just tired of looking at your fucking dimples.”

  Kael grinned, but there was nothing pleasant about the baring of teeth. “That’s just too fucking bad.” Leaning forward, he dropped his voice. “The others may have forgotten about your little trick in the cave, but I haven’t. I’m watching you, princeling. You’re up to something, and I’m going to figure it out.”

  Not until it’s too late. “Good luck with that.”

  Kael shoved Kieran away with a palm to the chest. The blow was forceful enough that Kieran went staggering back.

  “Go take a cold shower and cool off. If you’re still like this when I find you again, you and I are going a few rounds in the ring. With weapons. Trust me, you don’t want that.”

  Kieran snarled at Kael but didn’t bother responding. He had no intention of cooling off. No intention of doing anything but what he should have done in the first place.

  Fuck the markers. Fuck the sneaking around. The time for games was over.

  Effie needed to pay for her treachery.

  They were all going to pay.

  It was time the Keepers learned what happened when you betrayed a royal son of Eatos.

  Chapter 27

  Effie smiled softly to herself as she folded up Lucian’s shirt and set it down carefully on her desk.
She would never forget the wonder of waking up in his arms. Those first sleep-fogged moments when she couldn’t remember anything outside of the man beside her. Not the horrors of yesterday’s battle. Not the visions. Nothing but how peaceful he looked as he slept.

  Unable to help herself, she’d traced the arches of his brows, and ran her finger gently over the space between them that was usually creased in some sort of scowl. Although lately, less of those broody glares had been leveled her way.

  When he’d opened his eyes to find her staring at him, he’d smiled and reached out to cup her face.

  Shivers ran through her as she replayed his husky growl as he’d looked at her. “Good morning, beautiful.”

  The quiet moment was likely the most intimate of her life. It was the first time she’d spent the entire night curled in a man’s arms. She’d never slept better.

  Effie could have happily spent the entire day there, pretending that they were the only two people in the world . . . but ever dutiful, Lucian reminded her that she was supposed to check in with both the healer and the Triumvirate after breakfast.

  As much as she wanted to explore the hard planes of his chest and continue where they’d left off in the shower, the timing was wrong. Maybe once this was over, she and Lucian would have a chance to finish what they’d started.

  Sighing wistfully, she picked up the shirt and brought it to her face, breathing in the scent of Lucian a final time. He wasn’t getting it back anytime soon, she decided, carrying it over to her bed and stuffing it beneath her pillow.

  She made it two steps out the door before realizing she’d left her journal on the desk. Smoke had requested she bring it with her for their sessions. He wanted to search for recurring images and track their appearance throughout her visions. Considering that all of her visions since arriving at the citadel seemed to be filled with blood and Shadows, she wasn’t sure how helpful that was going to be, but he was the expert.

  In the two months she’d been at the citadel, the only thing Effie knew with certainty about her visions was there was nothing certain about them. She was still suffering the same side effects and the warning hidden within the frightening images were no easier to decipher than when she’d gotten her first one.