Citrine

  ***

  The surge of blood with each swing of the sword was a feeling that Caleb hadn’t had in a long time. He sometimes missed that about life in the modern age. The sword was an extension of your body; it was your strength and skill that carried the battle, not luck and a full clip of bullets. Video games gave them the chance to relive it, but it still wasn’t the same as the feel of the real thing. He battled his way through the guards; they were good, but the king’s guards weren’t trained to fight warriors like the cairbare.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw another man coming at him. He twisted his body and sword with accuracy and deliberation, gutting his attacker. Then from the other side, another attacker came at him, but Caleb was quicker. With a twist the other way, the head separated from the body, sailing through the room like someone had hit a home run, and right out of the door.

  “Enough of this, I’m tired!” he shouted at Kayne, who had just pulled his sword from the body of another guard. His hands bloodied, and his face grim, Kayne nodded his agreement. Caleb bellowed to the men that had come with them. “Finish it!” They moved with increased speed, disabling some and killing others, as the guards continued the losing battle. The cairbare proved why so many feared them, and why they were called warriors of legend. The guards had skills, but they couldn’t stand up to thousands of years of experience, and they fell one by one under the onslaught of warriors, until their weapons dropped, and they lifted their arms in surrender.

  “Welcome home!” Caleb greeted Tyrone and Grey, as they rejoined them. “Bart?”

  “Justice has been served,” Grey told him. They all fell silent, as they stared at the men standing in front of them. Tyrone looked to Garrick, who stood to the side, watching the surrendered men.

  “Garrick?”

  “Sire,” Garrick bowed his head.

  “Tend to the wounded,” Tyrone instructed.

  “But?” Garrick questioned.

  “No, Garrick. I refuse to make this whole tragedy even worse. The people of Elden have suffered enough. They were taken in by the lies of Bart and Dreyden. For now, we tend our wounded, and we will make judgment on the guilt and innocence of those involved at a later date,” Tyrone explained, as he looked at the bloodied men littering the floor of the throne room.

  A cry grabbed their attention, as a small petite blonde launched herself at Grey. In his shock he dropped Olivia’s hand, grabbing the body that wrapped itself around him.

  “Oh, thank the gods!” she cried. “You have returned to me, my darling. I have been so terrified that I would never see you again.” Grey looked at the woman who had thrown herself into his arms, the woman who for so long he had thought himself in love with, and he pulled her off his body.

  “Helene,” he greeted, but his voice was cold and distance.

  “Bart threatened you so often, I didn’t know if I would ever see you again,” she wailed, throwing herself back into to Grey’s arms, sobbing wildly. Olivia watched the performance, and her anger did a slow boil.

  “So you claimed that you saw me murder my father,” Grey stated.

  Helene gasped, shocked that he knew about that. “I had no choice,” she bawled, trying to think on her feet. “He threatened me if I didn’t do what he wanted.”

  “Oh, so that explains why you got engaged to him,” Grey asserted, as he watched Helene’s cheeks flush. She lowered her eyes, and the tremble in the lower lip started.

  “Damn, she’s good,” Eve remarked to Olivia as she walked up beside her watching Helene entire performance.

  “Where do you think I learned it from?” Olivia exclaimed testily. “The lip thing, she’s been using it since she was about six, gods know why they fall for it every time.”

  “Because they’re men, and we all know men don’t always think with the head on the top of their body,” Eve joked. “So, are you going to stand there, and let her worm her way back into his life and arms, or are you going to claim what belongs to you?” Olivia looked from Helene to Grey, and then finally to Eve, her uncertainly showing. “Oh honey, he’s yours, all you have to do is mark your territory.”

  Olivia paused for another moment, and then straightened her back and determination burning in her eyes. Eve stepped back waiting to see if she was going to claim her man or not.

  Olivia walked over, tapped her cousin on the shoulder. “Helene?” Getting her back up when she was completely ignored by her cousin. “Helene, let Grey go, now.”

  Helene looked to her mousey cousin. “Go away Olivia,” she yapped, turning back to Grey, trying to get him to fall under her spell again.

  “Helene, remove your hand,” Olivia snarled as she grabbed Helene, spinning her around so she could look Helene in the face.

  “Olivia, go away, can’t you see that Grey and I are trying to get reacquainted? It’s been four years.”

  “No, what I see is Helene trying to protect Helene’s ass. You forget, cousin dear, I was here the whole time. I don’t really recall you being upset that Grey had lost everything, because you were only interested in what Bart was going to give you next!” Olivia accused her. “And I will not let you get away with it.” Helene stared at her cousin, her eyes blazing with hatred.

  “Lies, it’s all lies.” she accused Olivia, flashing her simpering smile at Grey. “I’m so sorry you have to witness this, Grey. But Olivia has always been jealous of me; I will have to talk to her later.” Helene rubbed her breasts against Grey’s arm, stroking his chest.

  Olivia’s anger bubbled over, “She did not just say that, did she?” Olivia gasped with anger.

  “Kick her butt,” Azure shouted encouragement.

  Reaching out, she grabbed her cousin’s shoulder, and whipped Helene around to face her again.

  “Olivia!” Helene shrieked, as she attempted to push her away. “You will ...” she didn’t get any further. Olivia’s fist landed on her pert little nose with a strong right cross, sending her crashing to the floor, landing with a thud on her ass.

  “Alright!” both Azure and Eve cheered.

  “Way to go Olivia, you showed her,” Eve said with glee.

  Olivia shook her hand, as the pain radiated up her arm. “Ow, I’m not so sure that was such a good idea,” she laughingly told Eve. “I think my hand is broken.”

  Grey pushed past the screaming Helene, reaching Olivia’s side, taking her hand in his. “Are you alright?” he asked, his concern real. Lifting her throbbing hand to his lips, he placed a gentle kiss on her bruised knuckles, then using his thumb; he tried to massage away the residual pain that was lingering.

  “I’m fine,” Olivia stuttered, as she stared at him with surprise and love.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Grey!” Helene screeched, holding her nose. “She hit me, what are you going to do?”

  “I know she hit you,” he told Helene, but his eyes never left Olivia’s.

  “She hit me!” Helene screeched again.

  “I saw!” he laughed. “Remind me to stay out of punching distance if you ever get mad at me,” he complimented Olivia.

  “Grey,” Helene squealed, until he finally turned and looked at her.

  “What?” he demanded.

  “Do something,” she ordered.

  “Okay,” he turned back to Olivia, and he pulled her into his arms, his mouth crashing down on hers, as he proceeded to kiss the socks off her.

  Helene’s mouth dropped open in shock. The hoots and clapping finally broke up the kiss, and he put the stunned Olivia back on her feet, but wrapped his arm around her. Olivia smiled, as she looked up with adoration shining in her eyes.

  “That’s my son,” Tyrone bragged, sending them all into laugher. Just then, Caleb gasped in pain, as he clutched his chest. They all turned, watching as he dropped to his knees, tears streaking down his face.

  “Kevan” he screamed.