Exiled Read online

  “I met the Goddess,” the shadow caster said. “And she asked me to give you something.”

  “And what might that be?” Draven demanded, instantly suspicious. The Goddess had promised retribution if he harassed her other children again. Not that he feared her but still, she wasn’t known for breaking her word.

  Suddenly, the shadow caster appeared right in front of him and clasped his wounded hand with her own. She entwined their fingers, pressing their bleeding palms together.

  “A soul,” she said.

  “A what?” Draven tried to pull free but she clung to his hand tenaciously. “I don’t need a soul! And I don’t want one.”

  “Nevertheless,” the shadow caster murmured. “Here I am.” She squeezed his palm and murmured, “Your blood and mine, mingled together.”

  “Stop it!” Draven ordered but instead of obeying, the shadow caster looked into his eyes.

  “Your gaze and mine, fixed to the same point, held to the same purpose,” she said, holding his eyes with her own, bewitching amber gaze.

  “I said, stop!” Draven wanted to look away but there was part of him—a part so small he hadn’t even known it existed—that wanted to keep looking into those lovely golden-amber eyes. Somehow he couldn’t tear his gaze away.

  The shadow caster leaned forward until her lush lips touched his. “Your breath and mine,” she whispered against his mouth. “Merged as one.” She kissed him gently and to Draven’s surprise, he found himself kissing her back.

  Her lips were so sweet, so yielding and Draven felt something flowing between them—some connection that nourished his heart. It was like a sudden, drenching rain in an arid desert that hadn’t known moisture in over a thousand years. He drank her in, deepening the kiss, never wanting it to end.

  When the shadow caster finally pulled away, her eyes were drowning deep. “Draven…” she murmured. “I never told you but my name is L.”

  “L?” He shook his head. “I still don’t understand. Why are you doing this?”

  “Because if I can be saved, you can too. But you have to make a choice.” Suddenly the knife in her hand disappeared to be replaced by a syringe filled with poisonous green liquid. “Sleep venom,” L said, seeing his eyes widen. “A little renders the body unconscious—the entire amount in this syringe will kill.”

  “You can’t hurt me with that.” Draven gave her an amused smile, beginning to regain his footing. “I’m immune to every poisonous substance in the universe.” He frowned. “Well, except for skrillix venom. But that’s neither here nor there.”

  “This isn’t for you—it’s for me.” Before he could stop her, the shadow caster plunged the needle into her own thigh and pressed the plunger down.

  “What are you doing?” Draven felt a sharp stab of some emotion he couldn’t name—something he hadn’t felt for untold thousands of years—somewhere in his midsection. “Are you insane?” he demanded.

  “I haven’t injected it all.” Already her amber eyes were fluttering and her breathing was more labored. “You can save me—if you want to. I’ve opened a link between us. Pour your will to live into me, merge your spirit with mine—take a part of my soul. It’s the only way to heal me.” Her eyelids fluttered again. “Or…or finish the injection. Either way, make your choice soon. I think…I think I may have injected a fatal dose after all.”

  Her amber eyes rolled up in her head and her grip on his hand loosened. Without another word, she collapsed.

  “L!” Draven caught her before she hit the floor and cradled her head gently in the crook of one arm. Quickly, he swung her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. Lying her down gently on the black satin coverlet, he assessed her condition.

  She was breathing…but just barely. Her narrow chest rose and fell shallowly—so shallowly he could barely see it move. Looking down, he saw the lethal syringe still sticking out of her thigh. There was less than half an inch of the poisonous green sleep venom left.

  Draven snatched the needle out and tossed the syringe away in one swift, angry motion. Then he asked himself what in the seven hells he was doing.

  She’s nothing to me—nothing. I should have injected the rest of the poison and let her go. Why should I care if she lives or dies?

  But that deeper part, the part so new and small and yet so strong he couldn’t ignore it spoke back. You care for her. You have from the first. You can’t just let her die!

  Draven shook his head. If he did as she said, if he reached through their connection to give her his strength and take part of her soul in return, he would be a different creature. All the guilt for the horrible deeds he had done, all the pain and suffering he had caused, all the shame he had accrued over thousands of years of pillaging other planets would have to be faced. It would be beyond excruciating. The onslaught of emotions would be an exercise in pure, unremitting agony.

  No, he thought. I can’t go through that, not even for her. Not even for the first female I’ve felt anything for in thousands of years. I can’t—

  And then L stopped breathing.

  * * * * *

  L drifted in the blackness. Somewhere far in the distance she could see a familiar pinpoint of light, which she instinctively knew was her former life. She was floating in a featureless black void, tethered to that life by only the thinnest thread. Even as she watched, the speck of white seemed to get farther away.

  Inwardly, she mourned for lost opportunities, for the life she had thrown away so recklessly, gambling on a long shot. But she had always known the Goddess’s plan was risky. It relied too much on Draven—on the hope that the shred of a soul he had regenerated would be enough to make him care for her. On the supposition that there was some good—however deeply buried—still left inside him.

  Shouldn’t have done it, she thought as she felt herself being sucked deeper into the void. He doesn’t care enough. Not enough to save me. I’ve failed…

  The thread that held her to the pinpoint of light finally snapped. So this was the end. She was lost in the blackness with no one to care for her, no one to pull her back. No one—

  Suddenly a hand grabbed hers.

  “What…?” L looked around uncertainly. What she saw surprised her—the white light of her old life was much closer and Draven was reaching through it, one long, muscular arm strained to the limit as he struggled to hold her.

  And it was a struggle—the void wanted to suck her down and away, back into the blackness. It clung to her, inky black tendrils wrapped around her arms and legs and torso, unwilling to let her go.

  “L,” Draven grated, still pulling on her hand. “Fight it! Come back to me!”

  “I can’t.” She shook her head weakly. “I can’t move. The connection between us…isn’t strong enough.” She looked at the hand holding hers. Had his grip slipped, just a little? Already the light of her old life was becoming distant again.

  “No! I won’t let you go, damn it!” Draven gritted his teeth.

  “There’s only one way to strengthen the connection,” L reminded him faintly. “My soul—you need to take half of it.”

  He swore violently. “That’s exactly what I was trying not to do.”

  “You must,” L whispered. “Otherwise…” Her hand began to slip out of his, losing the tenuous grip that barely held them together.

  “All right, all right—I’ll do it.” Draven looked grim as he tightened his grip. “But only if you promise to stay with me.”

  L frowned. “Stay with you where? On Hrakaz?”

  “Of course not.” He blew out a breath in obvious frustration. “I’ll have to spend years—millennia—making up for the sins I’ve committed and the wrongs I’ve done. I’ll probably be admitted to the Goddess’s realm, but only on a provisional basis. It’s going to be a long, hard sentence and I refuse to serve it alone. So I’ll take half your soul and your deal only if you promise to stay by my side and keep me company.”

  L bit her lip. “But my sister, Lauren…I only just met her…�