Chapters (75)
- Praise
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- Acknowledgements
- WEAVER OF DREAMS - Long, long ago . . .
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- THE PRINCE OF EBON RIH - This story takes place after the events in Heir to the Shadows
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- ZUULAMAN - A story from Saetan’s past
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- KAELEER’S HEART - This story takes place after the events in Queen of the Darkness
- 1
- TWO
- THREE
- 1
- 1
- SIX
- 1
- 1
- 1
- 1
- 1
- 1
- 1
- 1
- 1
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- Present
He studied her for a moment, then growled, “What’s this all about? You asked me to come here, so I’m here.”
“Yes, you are,” Surreal replied, still smiling. “And now I’m going to talk, and you’re going to listen. If you don’t listen, I’ll shoot you with this little crossbow arrow.”
“Quarrel.”
She shook her head. “We’re not going to quarrel. I’m going to talk, and you’re going to listen—or I’ll pin your balls to the wall.” She didn’t have any chance of actually hitting him. She wore Gray; he wore Ebon-gray. The moment he sensed the Gray lock on the door, he’d put an Ebon-gray shield around himself. There was nothing she could do that would get an arrow through that shield, but the threat warned him that she wasn’t going to let him dismiss what she had to say.
Lucivar shook his head. “It’s called a ‘quarrel’ or a ‘bolt,’ not a ‘little crossbow arrow.’ ”
“But—” Her face flushed. Falonar, you son of a whoring bitch.
“I guess Falonar didn’t mention that when he agreed to teach you how to use a crossbow,” Lucivar said, giving her a thoughtful look, as if a few pieces of a puzzle had just fallen into place.
“Doesn’t matter.”
“What does matter?”
“Jaenelle.”
He took a step toward her, then stopped and looked at the crossbow. “Is she all right?”
“She needs to start training again to rebuild her strength. You’re going to help her.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No!” Swearing viciously, he turned away and paced, giving her searing looks every time he turned in her direction.
“Lucivar?” Surreal said quietly. “How long are you going to keep her an invalid? How long are you going to block her from being strong enough to stand on her own again?”
He charged toward her, stopping before she was within reach. “You bitch! How dare you?”
She lowered the crossbow. “I dare because I love her too.”
He stared at her, fury in his eyes. “She’s too frail.”
“She’s not as frail as you think.” She saw hope, confusion, fear. “I understand that you’re afraid of doing anything that might hurt her. I really do. But she needs you, Lucivar. She needs your help to regain what she lost.”
Pain now as he looked away. “Not everything she lost.”
“No, not everything.” She vanished the crossbow and took a step toward him. “She learned how to call in her shoes today.”
He snapped to attention, surprising her. “Jaenelle called in her shoes? She could never do that before.” He walked over to the desk and leaned back against it. After staring at the floor for a long moment, he sighed. “All right. I’ll take her through a warm-up. We’ll see after that.”
“I’m surprised you gave in so easily,” Surreal said, joining him at the desk.