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  Shadow Assassins, Book One

  Royal Obsession

  Cyndi Friberg

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  Radical separatists, created at the onset of the Great Conflict, have been made obsolete by years of peace. They live in their subterranean Shadow Maze and only emerge when it’s time to breed. For Varrik, that time is now.

  Varrik, current leader of the Shadow Assassins, knows his people are on the verge of extinction. If they cannot adapt, they will die. Yet if his son were a direct descendant of the High Queen it would secure a place for future generations. Protecting his people is his first priority, so Varrik assembles a hunting party and kidnaps the royal twins. He is determined to claim the eldest for his own.

  Echo, the younger princess, knows her pampered sister will never survive the sexual appetites of their virile captor. Echo doesn’t understand the powerful attraction she feels for Varrik, but drawing his attention is a far better choice than allowing him to overwhelm her twin. She doesn’t expect to find him fascinating or to crave the demanding passion he ignites. Can a dominating warrior and his willing captive bring light to the Shadow Maze?

  Royal Obsession

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  Copyright © 2013 Cyndi Friberg.

  Prologue

  “Only you can stop this madness. You must speak with the elders.”

  Varrik closed his eyes as the plaintive words echoed through his mind. Ripples of discontent had been disrupting the Shadow Maze longer than he could remember. After developing useless feelings for his female, Varrik’s brother, Sekall, had planted seeds of doubt and whispered clever lies. Sekall’s treachery still germinated a decade after his execution.

  “I am not my brother.” Varrik opened his eyes and glared at his misguided friend. “Unlike Sekall, I hold true to the Customs.”

  “Customs that were obsolete before we were born.” Bemzire wrapped his arm around a woman’s shoulders and drew her close against his side. Varrik didn’t know her name, didn’t allow himself to wonder. Females had only one purpose in the life of a Shadow Assassin and this woman had fulfilled hers. He glanced at the baby sleeping in her arms, ignoring the tightening in his chest. Soon it would be his turn to breed.

  “You have a strong, healthy son.” Varrik dragged his gaze away from the infant and focused on Bemzire. “Let that be enough.”

  “Enough for what? We are expected to remain in this prison, allowing others to dictate what gives meaning to our lives.” Bemzire stroked his son’s tiny face. Tension hardened his tone, yet his gaze remained tender. “With or without the elders’ consent, we’re leaving the Shadow Maze tonight.”

  “They will find you and kill you. You know the law.”

  Bemzire stepped closer, challenge flashing in his eyes. “I know it’s forbidden, but can you tell me why?”

  “You know why.”

  “I know the lies the elders use to control us. I want nothing more to do with the world below.”

  “There have always been lulls, shifts in power, and periods of waiting. We are above these things. We answer to a higher calling.” Varrik glanced at the woman. She remained silent and watchful as Bemzire argued their case. “Even if the elders allowed you to leave, how would you survive? You’re a criminal according to the world above. As soon as they realize where you came from, they will take you to the City of Tears.”

  “Then sweep my mind. The elders might not realize you have the gift, but I know you do. Use your ability on me, so I have nothing to reveal.”

  Varrik shook his head, his heart pounding in his chest. If one of the elders sensed the emotions raging in this room, they might join and penetrate his mental shields. He wasn’t ready to be a sweeper, was still too conflicted to embrace his destiny.

  “Sweeping your mind won’t keep the overlord from torturing you. If you think you’re a prisoner now, wait until you’ve spent some time in the City of Tears.”

  “Bemzire might have been trained as an assassin, but he has never taken a life.” The woman finally spoke. Her tone was calm, her expression resolute.

  “He’s a hunter, one of the leaders, a direct descendent from the south.” Varrik stared into her eyes, waiting for her to argue. She said nothing, so he drove the point home. “You were not the only woman taken during the hunt. Are all the females willing to forgive?”

  “It has to start somewhere,” Bemzire said firmly.

  Varrik turned back to his friend. “You didn’t answer my question.” He crossed his arms over his chest, gathering anger about him to drive back the pain. They were only repeating Sekall’s heresy, but the topic dredged up unwanted memories. Charismatic and shrewd, Sekall had been the biggest threat the elders had ever faced. So dangerous, in fact, he’d been silenced—while Varrik was forced to watch.

  “We will live a quiet life in some secluded settlement,” Bemzire told him.

  Varrik snorted. “Does she know how to plant and harvest? You’re certainly no farmer.” Bemzire raised his chin and reached for his sidearm. “You see. Lethal instincts and instantaneous reactions, cunning perception and faultless aim. The only vocation you’re qualified for is military, and the warlords won’t have you.”

  “I have other abilities.”

  “Ah, yes. You can create the illusion of invisibility and move small objects with your mind. What value does that have in the world above?” His crestfallen expression was answer enough. “You’re a hunter, Bemzire, a trained assassin. Don’t attempt to leave. They will kill you. One cycle with this female does not need to end your life.”

  “This is no life,” she sneered. “You accomplish nothing. You don’t even destroy. You’ve become ghosts with no purpose, obediently going through the motions of a meaningless existence.”

  He shot her so scathing a glare she took an automatic step backward. “You won’t remember his face come morning. You won’t remember anything at all. Now get out of my sight!”

  Varrik waited until they left to vent his aggravation. He kicked over a chair and released a string of curses that echoed off the cold stone walls. Through sheer force of will he kept memories of his brother buried deep in his mind. He had idolized Sekall, absorbed every word he spoke like a sponge. It took many cycles for Varrik to realize the true danger of his brother’s radical thinking. Hope could cut more deeply than any blade.

  Their world might be bleak and lonely, but there was no place for them in the world above.

  With an infuriated hiss, he stormed from his chamber and hurried toward the Council of Elders’ meeting room. He had to protect Bemzire from his own foolishness. A guard announced him then motioned him inside. The table, like the room itself, was perfectly square. Each elder represented a geographical region, north, south, east, and west. They sat facing each other, their regions at their back.

  “What can we do for you, Varrik?” Elder North asked.

  Varrik waited for the guard to shut the door before he spoke. “Bemzire’s female is scheduled for release tomorrow. He is planning to escape with her tonight.”

  The elders exchanged pleased glances, then Elder North stood. “Why have you chosen to warn us?”

  “I honor the Customs. The laws are designed to protect us all.” He squared his shoulders and added, “Despite his misguided notions, Bemzire is my friend. I would rather not see him sacrificed because of this woman.”

  Elder North rounded the table and clasped Varrik’s shoulder. “We have waited many cycles for Vade’s strength to be revealed in you. We feared your brother’s influence had poisoned your mind. This is encouraging, very encouraging indeed.”

  Chapter One

  Echo dar Aune stood in the shadow of a massive storax tree. Long, slender branches draped the ground and trailed in the water of Mystic Brook. Twilight had deepened the lavender-t
inted sky, turning it a shade between purple and gray. Fluffy pink clouds floated toward the horizon as intar larks sang out in the peaceful haze.

  Drawing in a deep breath of cool, clear air, Echo savored the solitude. This had been the longest week of her life. It wasn’t every day that Overlord Lyrik’s sister got married, and to add mayhem to complication, Crystal had joined with a Bilarrian dignitary.

  Lyrik refused to have the wedding in the City of Tears, claiming the military outpost was far too dreary for such a festive occasion. So relatives and VIPs from all over the star system had descended on Mystic Valley.

  Left to deal with the security nightmare, Uncle Trey had insisted they combine the firepower of his special forces with the protection of the Mystic shields. Her father, Head Master Tal, hadn’t seen a reason to object, so he agreed to host the wedding. Only those with Mystic abilities were allowed inside the Conservatory, but the elegant visitor center was large enough for the event.

  “Is he here yet?”

  Echo smiled at the anticipation in her sister’s tone. “Soon,” she whispered, not bothering to turn around. She could picture E’Lanna’s flushed cheeks and luminous gaze. The dreamy expression had seldom left her face since Zane cet Malaque rotated onto their security contingent. “Do you think they do it intentionally?”

  “Does who do what intentionally?”

  “Do young, physically attractive men apply to be our bodyguards?”

  “They haven’t all been gorgeous like Zane. Think about Leor. He was older than Father, and no one would mistake him for handsome.”

  “True, but his partner was Taminish.”

  “It doesn’t matter what they look like. They’re sworn to protect, not satisfy, us.” E’Lanna glanced into the distance and clasped her hands in front of her, the epitome of propriety and decorum. Echo wasn’t fooled by the pose. E’Lanna’s nature was every bit as passionate as her own.

  “The things I learned from Taminish had nothing to do with safety.” Wistfulness took over her voice as her mind filled with memories. Sensual exploration and youthful exuberance had driven each encounter. What he’d lacked in finesse, he’d made up for with enthusiasm. She would always think of Taminish with a smile.

  She turned toward E’Lanna and found her twin staring back at her. The identical purple gowns they’d worn for Crystal’s wedding accented the similarity of their features. On any other day, Echo would have refused to indulge their mother and chosen clothing vastly different from E’Lanna’s. Their golden-brown hair and smoky-violet eyes made them hard to tell apart. Still, the novelty of being mistaken for one another had worn off cycles ago.

  “What about Kiel?” E’Lanna’s brow arched in challenge. “He was reassigned two cycles ago. Surely you can tell me now. How far did you allow things to go? I know you didn’t let Taminish do more than play, but what about Kiel?”

  “A lady never tells.” Echo hid her guilty smile by motioning over E’Lanna’s shoulder. “Our newest bodyguard approaches.”

  They’d planned their escape all evening. Echo waited until the party was in full swing, then sneaked away into the verdant meadow, still within the Mystic shields. Using Echo’s disappearance as an excuse, E’Lanna went to search for her sister. Last, Zane abandoned the festivities to investigate the location of the twins. The ruse wouldn’t keep the other guards away for long. Echo intended to distract them while E’Lanna and Zane enjoyed the romantic setting.

  A flicker of light drew her attention across the brook. Her heart lurched then resumed its steady rhythm. She squinted into the setting sun and scanned with her mind as well as her eyes. Had someone else decided to escape the ruckus hall? A line of lush trees marched toward the meditation gardens, which butted up against the practice yard. She saw nothing out of place and sensed no danger. So what had caught her eye?

  “Thanks for this.” E’Lanna kissed her cheek then wrapped her arm around Zane’s lean waist. “We only have a few more weeks before Zane is scheduled for reassignment.”

  Uncle Trey claimed the rotation kept a balance of experience and fresh perspective on the security team. Echo suspected the practice was also meant to keep the men from developing personal feelings for the women in their charge. As their reminiscence proved, the strategy wasn’t entirely successful.

  “Don’t be too long,” she cautioned. “Even I can’t confuse them forever.”

  Smoldering heat and sensual hunger flowed through Echo’s mind as Zane swept E’Lanna into his arms. Echo hurried along the grassy riverbank, leaving the lovers alone in the dark. The intensity of her sister’s emotions drew Echo deeper into the meld. She saw Zane’s handsome face and his blacker-than-night eyes. Saw the tenderness and desire alight in his smoldering gaze. She felt his hand glide across E’Lanna’s shoulder and dip inside her gown to cup her breast. E’Lanna sighed, pressing into his touch, wanting more than a few stolen kisses.

  With concentrated effort, Echo eased out of her sister’s mind and shielded her end of the link. She collided with Lor dar Joon and gasped. His large hands clasped her upper arms, steadying her until she regained her footing.

  “Your face is flushed and your expression dreamy.” A knowing smile parted his lips. “Either you were having very naughty thoughts, or E’Lanna is with Zane—again.”

  Lor had been her father’s apprentice until he completed his training four cycles ago. Echo had spent half her childhood enamored with him, yet she had come to think of him as a close friend by the time she saw male appreciation in his eyes. Her mother, High Queen Charlotte, would doubtlessly welcome a match between them. The House of Joon had resented the House of Aune for centuries. The hostilities escalated with frustrating regularity, despite Charlotte’s best efforts to establish lasting peace.

  “Did Father send you after me?” She smoothed the heavily embroidered material of her bodice against her ribs, her senses still humming. Strolling to a nearby tree, she leaned against the trunk, needing the stability at her back. Her teasing tastes of passion had never produced the sort of emotions E’Lanna enjoyed with Zane.

  Lor moved closer, the wind playing through his curly blond hair. “As a matter of fact, he did. You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

  “I’m not alone.” She glanced up at him and offered her best flirtatious smile. “I have you to protect me.”

  He placed his hands on either side of her shoulders, his turquoise gaze searching her face. “What makes you think you’re safe with me?”

  “You would never do anything to displease Father.” A note of disappointment bled through in her tone.

  “Unlike Zane?” He brushed her cheek with his knuckles then reluctantly stepped back. “Are they out here, or were you entertaining wicked thoughts?”

  “I was enjoying the sunset,” she claimed with innocent bravado.

  “But you’d rather be enjoying passionate kisses and bold caresses?” A strand of her hair flitted against her check. He tucked it behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her skin. “Will you stop moping if I kiss you?”

  “I am not moping!” She averted her gaze. Lor was handsome and experienced, intelligent and kind. She had often wondered what it would feel like to kiss him. With a deep chuckle, he pulled her into his arms and pressed his mouth over hers. She wrapped her arms around his back and parted her lips, waiting for the first brush of his tongue.

  He took his time, nibbling at her lips and tracing her mouth with the tip of his tongue. When he finally delved into her mouth, she was panting and restless. His tongue stroked hers, traced her teeth, then stroked hers some more. She waited for the knee-melting heat, the rush of tingling fire E’Lanna felt each time Zane kissed her. Lor’s mouth was warm, his body strong, but the kiss was no more than pleasant.

  Some unseen force slammed Lor forward, knocking Echo against the tree. She yelped. He groaned then sank to his knees. He was jarred sideways and flipped onto his stomach. He went wild, kicking and thrashing as unseen hands restrained him. Echo screamed, reaching out
with her mind. Lor bucked and heaved against the ground. Fire erupted around him, triggered by his pyrokinetic gift.

  E’Lanna’s mind reflected Echo’s fear. Was the same thing happening to E’Lanna, or was she reacting to Echo’s terror? Lor’s hands were trapped beneath him, while the grass around him sizzled. Did the assailants know he could throw fire?

  She was dragged away from the tree, her attackers vague distortions against the coming night. Invisible arms wrapped around her, pulling her tight against a tangible body. They were real. She just couldn’t see them.

  E’Lanna’s emotions prevented Echo from reaching farther. She screamed again, but they were far from the visitors’ hall.

  Sound swelled, building from a distant buzz to a deafening roar as a transport conduit swallowed her whole. Light blinded her, then oppressive darkness closed in, compressing her chest and weighting her limbs. She trembled in her captor’s arms, lacking the breath to speak, much less fight.

  The pressure eased, but the darkness remained. She blinked rapidly, struggling to bring anything into focus. Hands pushed her to her knees, and a gruff voice activated a row of firestones set high in the barren walls.

  Light flashed again, and E’Lanna appeared, trapped between two burly men. She was forced to her knees beside Echo. The men took up positions within easy reach of their prisoner.

  Are you hurt? Echo sent the question directly to E’Lanna’s mind.

  No. Are you? E’Lanna covered her mouth with her hand, her shoulders shaking.

  Don’t speak out loud, and don’t react to my thoughts.

  One of the villains materialized in front of E’Lanna. Tall and lean, with rawboned features and fierce eyes, he took E’Lanna’s chin and forced her to raise her face. “Which one are you?”