A Sinless Betrayal by Cherie Benjamin (most romantic novels TXT) 📕

kusa da…har ma a zaune a kan kursiyin." (I did not expect you to return so soon. My king, your brother has returned as well. He says that you sent him home to check on the castle, and run things for a while. He's been ordering us around...and even sitting on your throne.)

Abigor's eyes widen as he gasps silently, taken aback by what the maid is telling him. "Ina ya yanzu, maid?" he demands. (Where is he now, maid?)

"Na karshe na ga of shi ne lokacin da yake faruwa a sama zuwa ga harem," the maid replies, pointing a small finger at the great staircase that leads up to the harem room where I once called home. "Amma ina tsoro cewa shi ne awa daya da suka wuce, na sarki." (The last I saw him was when he was going up to the harem, but I am afraid that that was an hour ago, my king.)

Right now Abigor is seething. "Oh, I know exactly where my brother is." And then he takes off up the stairs, each fall of his foot against the wood making a loud thump through the quiet castle. He is calling his name loudly, rousing the harem girls from their slumber and stirring the interests of other castle workers.

"BROTHER!"

0o0o0o0o

ABIGOR'S POV

My heavy footfall rouses the men at peace in this castle but I do not care. I am on a mission and that is to find my brother. My brother that has betrayed me, and the whore that had tried to kill the only light I had left in this wretched world.

The faster I walk, the closer I near to the dark corridor in which my brother's bedroom lies. My hair whips around my face as I come to stand in front of his door. I know he's inside. I can hear that whore moaning his name. And like the fool he is, he never locks his door.

I bust down the door without even turning the knob, bursting into his room. She's sitting on his cock, thrusting up and down on him. Dirty. That's all I can think about. "Bastard!" I scream loudly, grabbing Ivona by the hair and yanking him off of his weeping cock and throwing her onto the floor.

He's more stunned than angry that I'd walked on him. He shouts and stands up, not caring to hide his male genitalia from my eyes. "What in Azazel's name are you doing—"

I don't give him time to finish. My fist cracks into his head, snapping it to the side. He falls back onto his bed. "I told you to lead them into Pateros! Because of you, the villages on the outskirts of Stauckana were slaughtered!"

He holds his nose, watching as blood pours out of it. He's laughing, an evil menacing laugh. My eyes widen and a look of disgust crosses my features. "You do not tell me what to do," Iron Coyote replies. "I am the rightful heir. I will tell you-!"

He stands up to face me, taking a swing at me. I duck and effortlessly miss his fist. I shove him hard backwards, smacking him against the wall. "Reckless!" I scream. "They've gotten through our kingdom's walls! We could lose this war! Our father…" I beat him with my fists, but he fights back against me extremely well. He's the only person who could match me. He lands a blow into my stomach, and then another to the side of my face. I feel the pain radiating through me as I fade in and out of a short dizzy spell.

He stands and spits down on me. "Fuck you! Fuck our father! Fuck the rituals…let us duel, brother. Let me take what is mine!"

Behind me, Ivona's screaming for us both to stop. That kariya. She too will pay. But I disregard her for the moment, glaring up at my older sibling as I stand on my feet.

Months ago, I was afraid to duel. I would have put up with all of my brother's taunting and irritable, angry presence. Months ago, I would have tried to make peace with him, despite his harsh remarks about wanting me dead so he could have what he wanted. Yes, that's what I would have done.

But….months ago I was not a shapeshifter.

"Let us duel," I agree, nodding my head. Blood dribbles down my chin from my split lip, and I hastily wiped it away with my calloused fingers. "I will let you take what is rightfully yours. Death."

My brother laughs humorlessly, going to a naked Ivona who confides in him for warmth, protection and comfort. Not for long, I think. "The throne is mine. It has always been mine. Our father was a fool…a failure! He was wrong to trust you!"

I do not respond to that. I turn my back darkly and smile rather evilly because I already know the outcome of this duel. "When I kill you, I will mount your head on a post in front of the castle walls as a warning to those who do not know the extent of my wrath towards those who betray me." Then I turn around to look at the naked woman who is trying to hide behind my brother. "And when I kill her, I will mount her head right next to yours. That way you can both burn in hell for the rest of eternity." Sleep

"Please," I groan. "I don't want you getting hurt. Don't duel. You're the king, can't you just throw him in jail?"

Abigor grumbles. "No."

I pace the length of our bedroom as he sharpens his khopesh sword with a special stone. The snow has stopped falling for the time being, leaving a fresh blanket of white powder covering the grass.

I sigh, my shoulders slumping. "This is something that has to be done, isn't it?" I murmur softly, peering at him through my curtain of curly brown hair.

He runs the stone along the sword once more with a clean swipe. "I put it off for far too long," he admits. "I duelled him once, and I won. I didn't kill him though, and that was my mistake. My greatest mistake."

Abigor holds the sword up into the sunlight and the newly sharpened sword sparkles brilliantly. He inspects it, running his finger softly down the sharp side. He shows me his thumb with a grin. "Barely even touched it." Blood spills from the cut, but he doesn't seem to mind. He sucks it into his mouth and deems it healed.

I stand by the fireplace and wrap my animal skin shawl tighter around my arms. "And this time you plan to kill him?" I question, staring at him with this large knot in my chest. It tightens when he nods.

"You shall deal with him no longer," he says. "This time has been delayed, and now the time is here. It is upon us at this very hour."

The crackling of the fire becomes louder as one of the logs falls from its place farther back in the hearth. I breathe out rather loudly, my hands clutching at the shawl. "You must…you must promise me something."

He looks up at me with those beautiful eyes of his. I stare at his gloriously handsome face, gulping, as the knot in my chest grows tighter. "Anything," he replies with that deep, husky accent.

My nails find my skin and I scratch, hard. "You must promise…to be safe." He nods his head.

"Of course," he agrees.

I can feel a little bit of blood trickle down my arm. He doesn't notice…yet. "You must also promise to return to me. Never to leave me."

At this he sets down his khopesh and stands up to look at me. "Where is this coming from? I will win. I will return to you, like always."

"Just…" I don't know what how to say it. "Please. Promise."

Abigor notices the blood on my arm and frowns at me. He grips my hands and forces them to my side. "Stop that," he scolds me. "I hate it when you hurt yourself like that."

My face burns red with embarrassment as I turn away and look towards the floor.

He gives me a sympathetic look and turns my face back to his with the tip of his finger. "I…promise." He pulls me closer and kisses my temple with his burning hot lips. "Remember my secret. I am powerful."

And then he pulls away and picks up his khopesh again. He opens the door and stares into the hallway. "Are you going to come?" he asks me.

I sigh and slowly begin to walk forward. He wraps an arm around my shoulders and steers me down the hallway.

0o0o0o0o

Iron Coyote is about as tall as Abigor, maybe an inch or so shorter. His muscles ripple beneath his copper skin as he stalks around the king with his khopesh sword in his hand. He is a true beast, his eyes with fire inside of them. He is green with greed. Greed for blood, fortune, royalty. Greed for everything he never had but was supposed to have had.

Dances With Wolves is taller. Maybe he is an inch or so, but he is much larger in muscle mass. Whereas Iron Coyote is tall and lean, my husband has bicep muscles that look like they could crush a skull if he flexed them. And those muscles ripple all the way down his abdomen, leading beneath his breechcloth and animal skin pants. He, too, unsheathes his khopesh.

His beautiful black hair gleams in the sunlight, giving off a bluish tint. We are outside. I am watching beside the maid that gave Abigor the information before. My heart pounds in my chest. I know that he is completely capable of killing Iron Coyote. But my question is whether or not he'll be injured in the process.

He bares his teeth at Iron Coyote; he is a true beast. His eyes are ablaze with the intent to kill, his tongue ready to taste the blood that will make him gloriously triumphant. His strong fingers grip the golden handle of his sword. I know that the outcome of this duel will be as kind as the tip of a dagger.

I am prepared, but I am scared. "Do you want to back down?" Iron Coyote questions him, twirling his sword casually in his hand. He has that same wretched smile on his face and his brows are pulled up-like he's amused by all that's going on.

"Never again," Abigor snarls, his lip pulled back over his teeth like some sort of rabid animal. My heart begins to soar into action with the first clash of metal against metal.

Iron Coyote's blows are continually blocked and met by Abigor's. Abigor's shoulders feet are wide and he is balanced as he quickly weaves his sword through the air. He slashes down with great force but Iron Coyote misses the blow—luckily for him.

Abigor ducks underneath a swing of Iron Coyote's blade and swerves to slash at his back. The older man turns around to meet his sword before receiving a metal kiss on his back. Swerving in and out of swords, carefully missing each fatal blow with precision. They had both been taught by one of the best swordsmen in the barbarian country, or so it seems.

No armour. No protection. Just luck, and pure skill. They are dancing