Born of Vengeance Read online

  Knew nothing about him, personally.

  Sorry, worthless bastards and their biting tongues they thought so much of. But that was the problem in life--everyone wanted to be a know-it-all expert, and act like they had all the facts and answers when they knew absolutely nothing whatsoever about the matter at hand. Just a handful of unrelated details they put together from half truths and outright lies, using their own petty minds and base thoughts to fill in the gaps. The accusations they made against him spoke more about them than it did him. Because in the end, those false assumptions and allegations came from inside their own corrupt souls that they exposed to the light by their words and deeds. They unknowingly accused him of what they'd do and not of what he'd actually done.

  "The careless mouth oft betrays the truth of the heart." His paternal grandfather's words rang in his ears. The old man had been right. "Great minds talk about philosophy and ideas. Small minds talk about people."

  Truer words had never been spoken.

  Little did the jikkas know they were quickly telling him which side of that equation they fell on. And it wasn't good for them. For the one thing about a Cabarro, they never forgot a slight of any kind. Their unofficial family motto was that winning wasn't everything. Rubbing it in the face of your enemy was also important.

  And the only ones worse about that than the Cabarros were the Triosans--his mother's family. Which meant he had a double dose of it hard-wired into his DNA.

  As if she sensed the turmoil inside him, his mother appeared at his back and placed a gentle hand to his shoulder. "Congratulations to you both." She kissed his cheek. "Alura? If you'd like to follow me, I'll have my secretary attend your needs so that you won't feel out of place."

  The party slowly resumed, but Bastien's mood was ruined. As was his life.

  Especially when Lil returned to his side and shook her head. "Couldn't keep it in your pants for five minutes, could you, blyt theren?"

  No one could make the affectionate Kirovarian term for little brother sound more patronizing than his sister.

  Wanting to punch her like he'd done when he was five and she'd stolen all his toys to show him who was the bigger and stronger sibling, Bastien excused himself. He'd deal with Lillian's insanity later. Right now he needed to resume his discussion with Alura and figure out what had happened to cause this.

  Well, he knew the mechanics. Sort of. But that night they'd spent together was still really fuzzy in his head. Honestly, he barely recalled anything after he'd left Quin in the landing bay and had gone straightaway to get loaded. Upset over his encounter with Ember, he'd been so effing drunk that he could barely stand when Alura had shown up unexpectedly at the bar where he'd plowed through so much Tondarion Fire, it was a wonder he still had functioning kidneys.

  Damn it!

  Not that he blamed the alcohol. He was the moron who'd gone out with Alura before that. But Bastien hadn't considered their dinner anything more than one revenge meal to stab at Ember.

  It's what I deserve for being a bastard.

  Clearly, as Lil had said, this was his fault. He owned every bit of it. He was the one who'd accepted Alura's dinner invitation.

  The one who'd gone drinking alone and been so irresponsible that the last thing he remembered was blacking out in the bar, then waking up naked in Alura's bed.

  He just wished he could undo the last few months. How could anyone fuck up their life so bad, so fast?

  His stomach drew so tight that for a moment, he feared he'd vomit. He'd never meant for any of this to happen.

  It's what you get for being a jackass. The only reason he'd ever accepted Alura's invitation to dinner had been to make Ember crazy. To hurt her as much as she'd cut him.

  Yeah, and how's that working for you, champ?

  Bastien cursed himself silently for this blunder. To this day, he didn't know what he'd done to piss off Ember so completely. Everything had been going great between them.

  Until he'd ruined it all by proposing. That horrific memory was still enough to shrivel his gut with horror and degradation.

  It'd been the most perfect night when he'd taken Ember to her favorite dance club. Had paid an exorbitant amount to have the rooftop decorated like it was free-floating in space--a fantasy she'd once confided to him that she'd carried since childhood. And there, while her favorite song had played, he'd held out his grandmother's ring and asked her to marry him.

  He'd expected an enthusiastic yes.

  Instead, she'd stared at the ring as if it had poisonous fangs and was coiled to strike at her. It'd been the longest pause of his life, while half the club looked on and he knelt, waiting ... and waiting.

  Finally, she'd stepped back and swallowed hard. "Bas ... I..."

  His stomach had hit the ground as he dreaded for her to finish that sentence. "You, what?"

  "I'm not ready to settle down yet. And I know you're not. I think we should take a break first, and really consider this."

  Nothing had ever gutted him like those words. She might as well have cut out his heart and shoved it down his throat. Especially when she turned on her heel and left him there like a complete and utter dumbass.

  Which was nothing compared to the next morning when he'd met the lance corporal holding his gear and warning him about his new orders.

  And squad.

  Yeah, that still stung him to the core of his being. In part because Lil continued to treat him like her personal bitch. Every day since then, his sister had made his life a living hell. Mostly because Lil thought it was hilarious that he'd had his nuts handed to him by a mere pleb. She thought it was what he deserved for dating outside their elite aristocratic circle.

  But social standing had never mattered to him. Nor had rank. All he'd seen in Ember was the courageous woman he'd die for.

  The woman he'd wanted to spend the rest of his life worshiping and making happy. So the ruthless banishment from her life had come as the worst sort of agony.

  Weeks had turned into months as he waited desperately for her to change her mind. She'd barely spoken to him. Every time he attempted contact, she cut him off with bitter barbs and ire.

  Now ...

  Ember would hate him forever.

  It wouldn't matter that he'd asked her permission to have dinner with Alura before he'd ever accepted her sister's invitation.

  Everything would be his fault. And it was.

  I should have gelded myself.

  Because he had royally screwed up this time. And the look on his mother's beautiful face as he entered her private chambers said that she was in complete and total agreement. Yet only someone who knew her as well as Bastien did would see her disappointed irritation in those regal green eyes. That strategically poised ethereal beauty that never betrayed a single emotion of any kind. One thing about his maternal unit--she was forever elegant. Forever composed. Not one pale blond hair was out of place. Not one vibrant green fiber of her gown was mushed or crinkled.

  And only Lia Triosan ydyra Cabarro could pull off a smile that was both warm and chilling at the same time.

  "There you are, minn s'enn. Alura was just telling me that she's Ember's younger zusa?"

  "She is." He glanced around the room. "Where is she?"

  His mother jerked her chin toward her bedroom. "Changing." Then she lowered her voice to a barely audible whisper. "What were you thinking?"

  "That I wanted Ember and she wouldn't have me."

  His mother scowled at him. "You loved her that much?"

  He gaped at the question. How could she have doubted it? Was she totally blind?

  Shaking her head, she pressed her gloved hand to her brow. "I'll never understand you, Bastien, and this strange penchant you have for picking up strays. Aros and your sadir are right. I coddled you too much when you were a boy."

  He snorted at her words. "Uncle Aros is in no position to give anyone parenting advice. At least I'm still speaking to my parents. Jullien barely tolerates being in the same room with him. As for Sa ... I've always said that my only goal in life was to be his burden and to give the two of you something scandalous to talk about at cocktail parties." He glanced to the closed doors. "Mission accomplished ... with panache."

  "Not the time to be flippant."

  "Certainly not the time for sobriety. Am thinking I need to get hammered. Sooner rather than later."

  She let out a puff of irritated breath. "Bastien Aros Cabarro!"

  "Oda!"

  With an irritated sigh, she patted at her hair--as if any strand would dare defy her.

  Unlike her youngest child. He could practically hear her shrieking at his father in her elegant head--You just had to have that extra spare for your throne, didn't you? This is all your fault, Newie!

  Luckily, her composure never wavered. She merely cleared her throat in that delicate, regal way only his mother could manage. "Well, as mad as I am at you, at least you stepped up and didn't leave her and your child abandoned. I can't fault you there. But I don't envy you the bed you've made for yourself. Her family--and in particular, her zusa--will not be so receptive of you, nor will they view this kindly. More than that, we're at war and no one knows how this is going to turn out, especially with the recent attemps that have been made on all our lives. Bad timing, svenn ... bad, bad timing."

  "What do you expect from the child who crashed a dinner party on arrival? I've been nothing but a pain in your bacrat since the day I ruined your favorite dress and upholstery with my inconsiderate birth during the second course."

  Reaching up with a quick smirk, she tugged playfully at his ear. "And yet you've always been my favorite. What does that say about me?"

  "You're a glutton for punishment and that Miksa didn't beat you enough when you were a girl."

  That finally wrung a laugh from her. "No. Never. Just an easy mark for that beautiful smile of yours. I've never been able to deny you anything. You know that." She brushed gently at his hair. "I just wish you wouldn't put yourself in such horrible situations."

  "I know. I should be more like Quin."

  "I've never said that. While I love your theren ... and your zusa, they lack your resilience and charm. Your quick thinking. Pity, that. It's why I want Quin to make you his chancellor."

  Bastien laughed. "That'll never happen. He has no respect for my opinion and even less for my politics."

  As she drew a breath to respond, the doors opened to show Alura in one of his mother's older gowns.

  And by older, it was one his mother had worn earlier in the year. The vibrant blue set off Alura's coloring to perfection.

  Yet it left him cold. Because in his heart, it was Ember he wanted to see here, by his side.

  It's not meant to be.

  Especially not after this.

  He could bemoan it all he wanted, but it would change nothing. Ember was gone forever now. He'd slammed that door and bolted it shut. And he had no one else to blame.

  Alura was his future now.

  Come hell or high water, he'd make the best of it. As his mother had said, he'd do his best by her. While he'd been drunker than Bob's cat when he'd gone to bed with her and couldn't even recall getting to her condo, never mind sleeping with her, he wouldn't deny waking up naked the next morning by her side. With a hangover that would rival the power of a League strike force.

  As for the baby, it would be tested as soon as it was born, as a matter of course. All royal children were required to be scanned for their DNA. Not just to ensure lineage, but to screen for any birth defects or possible health concerns, and to have a sample on file should the child ever be kidnapped.

  Or executed.

  Alura knew that as well as he did, so there was no need to question the father of the baby, since she knew the truth would come out if she were lying.

  I always wanted to be a father.

  Just not with Alura as the mother.

  Yet since she was, and he couldn't change it, he would show her nothing save devotion and respect. That was the least he could do.

  Forcing a smile for her, he held his arm out so that he could escort her back to the party. "Shall we?"

  Her triumphant grin was dazzling as she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. "Thank you, Bastien."

  "For what?"

  "Not denouncing me."

  "Cabarros don't denounce their own."

  She pressed herself against his arm and leaned against him. An act that left him even colder as it reminded him of how Ember used to hold him.

  His mother was right. This would kill Ember when she heard it. For that alone, he wanted to cut his own throat. And he'd never forgive himself for doing this to her.

  Digusted with himself, he led Alura back to the party where everyone waited for more juicy bits that he refused to give them. Let them speculate. They'd make up whatever truth they wanted, anyway. Wouldn't matter what he said. Or what the real facts were. They'd lie regardless.

  The news agencies would be even worse. In their rush to beat out their competition, they'd fictionalize half of the story, and distort and slant the rest to the point it wouldn't even be recognizable. They couldn't bother to get the counties they were reporting from right most of the time, and that included the ones they broadcasted in. Sad really ...

  Alura excused herself from him so that she could go network with the others she was hoping would accept her as a future visira of the empire.

  Bastien made straight for another round of whisky while dodging his older brother. One word from Quin and he would knock the bastard out again.

  And that was the last lecture he wanted his mother to repeat tonight. He knew Cabarros didn't fight amongst themselves. They weren't Andarion eton Anatoles. Backbiting to that level wasn't part of their court. Cabarros guarded each other's backs.

  Family first. Family above all.

  *

  "So ... that's how it's done, eh?"

  Alura paused at the rich, deep voice in her ear as she reached for a glass of champagne. She cut a sideways glance to see Barnabas Cabarro there.

  Bastien's uncle Barnabas bore a striking resemblance to his older brother, the emperor. Only he wasn't as tall.

  Or nearly as frightening.

  At least not in appearance. Alura, however, knew exactly what kind of treacherous beast the leader of their military really was. She'd known it since the night he'd come to her and hand-selected her for this mission that stuck in the craw of her throat.

  But she had no choice.

  If she didn't do it, hers would be the first head he'd take.

  "I thought you weren't going to speak to me in public. Isn't that what you said?"

  Barnabas grunted at her as he pulled the glass from her hand, then drained it. "You're pregnant, love. Can't be seen drinking in your delicate condition."

  Alura bit back a fierce groan at the reminder. "We both know that's a lie. So have you figured out the work-around?"

  "I've got someone lined up who will give you everything you need, including a sympathetic shoulder when you miscarry in a few months."

  "What if I really do conceive by then?"

  Barnabas's dark eyes turned chilling as he met her gaze. "Then you and your brat will be joining Bastien and the rest of my brother's family in their graves."

  CHAPTER 2

  Bastien tensed as Ember approached him. Instinctively, he cupped himself in expectation of what she was about to do. Not that he really needed to. Of their own accord, his balls had shriveled and jumped straight back inside his body as soon as he saw her coming.

  To his instant relief, she paused in front of him and crossed her arms over her chest. "Congratulations, Captain. Welcome to the Wyldestarrin family."

  Those cordial, formal words with their undercurrent of leashed venom sent a chill down his spine. It was the first time she'd spoken to him since Alura had crashed the palace party and announced her pregnancy.

  As if on cue, Alura came dashing up to his side to take his arm. The hem of her voluminous pale green wedding gown swept against his legs, then pooled around her feet. "Emmy! I'm so glad you came, after all. I thought you were planning to boycott my wedding."

  Ember raked a cold look over him that said she was gutting him slowly with her thoughts.

  With a rusted-out spork.

  She smiled at Alura. "Why should I lose a zusa over the actions of an inconsiderate asshole?"

  A tic started in Bastien's jaw. "Pardon? You broke up with me, not the other way around. You're the one who wouldn't even return my messages or acknowledge me!"

  Ember held her hand up to silence him. "Just stay away from me, Bastien. I've nothing to say to you ever again." And with that, she turned and walked over to where their sisters had congregated.

  Bastien glared in furious indignation. How dare she! This wouldn't have happened had she not challenged him to date her sister. It wasn't like she hadn't known how he'd react to her caustic response to his question. How he'd react to a direct challenge.

  He was a surly, cantankerous ass and Ember knew it better than anyone!

  "Don't worry about it, baby. You'll always have me." Alura kissed his cheek, then went to join a group of her friends.

  Was it just him or was there irony that as soon as Alura had said that, she skipped off and abandoned him?

  Just like everyone else.

  Yeah, he was a total outcast at his own wedding reception. This was a far cry from the wedded bliss he'd imagined the night he proposed to Ember.

  Right family.

  Wrong bride.

  Worse, he'd overheard Ember throwing up earlier as he walked past the bathroom, and she still looked pale and wane.

  Not even his own family would deign to speak to him. His mother, father, and siblings were in a corner with Alura's parents on the opposite side of the room. None of his so-called friends would come near him because it was obvious his parents were taking issue with his actions and his peers lacked the balls to risk displeasing their ruling monarchs in the name of friendship. Or their future ones--which would be his older brother and sister, both of whom were already married. So the odds of Bastien ever sitting on the throne were slim to none. Which was fine by him. Last thing he wanted was to occupy the throne, since the only way to get it would be over the dead bodies of his loved ones.

  Though tonight, he wasn't feeling much love from them.

  Open hostility?

  Big affirmative there.

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