Accustomed Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  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

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Books In this Universe

  Contact

  Accustomed

  Book Two in the Ascendant Series

  Kyra Gregory

  Other Books by Kyra Gregory:

  Secrets Clad in Light

  Grieving Liberty

  The Forgotten Children Series

  Butterfly

  Chameleon

  The Ascendant Series

  Ascendant

  Accustomed

  Atoned

  Allied

  The Vagabond Series

  Grounded

  Fugitive

  Conspirator

  The Heir Series

  Adolescent

  Adept

  First Kindle Edition of 2019

  Copyright © Kyra Gregory

  Cover Designed by Covers by Combs

  All rights reserved. This book may no be reproduced in any form, in whole or in part, without written permission from the author.

  Dedication

  To my loved ones.

  CHAPTER 1

  ALONE IN THE dead of night, Sybelle’s long, brown hair fluttered in the light breeze as she stood atop the walls of the Lionessan Capital. With her arms crossed against her chest she brushed her hands against her shoulders in a bid to fill herself with warmth, vulnerable to the chill in the air. She cast her eyes to the golden lights on the sea that gradually approached the main port and sucked in a deep breath, shifting her weight. While she wasn’t overly concerned, to say she hadn’t considered the damage they could do to her kingdom would’ve been a lie. Her mind, tired from concerns even when she’d been flooded with a wave of confidence, rummaged through all sorts of ideas, all sorts of thoughts and plans that she could possibly put into motion to minimise the destruction they had the potential to inflict.

  She heard weighty steps approaching her but she gave them no consideration until Deros stood beside her, exhaling heavily as he leaned over the wall and shared in the sights with her, as well as her concerns. She was aware, though not all too surprised, that his very presence comforted her and brought peace to her tumultuous mind. He glanced over after a few minutes of silence, pursing his lips together before asking, “Are you concerned?”

  Sybelle scoffed, replying, “No,” she said. She shifted once more, planting her hands firmly atop the wall for support, “Not for myself, at least, but I worry for my people, and what they must think about a Queen who has potentially involved them in a second war in the span of such a short reign.”

  “A Queen who has also proved to them that she’s very capable of winning wars,” he reminded.

  “Wars they wouldn’t have found themselves in had it not been for their Queen,” she said, no longer in the same self-deprecating tone that she would’ve dwelt upon it with in the past. “You cannot deny that such wars wouldn’t have befallen Lionessa if my father hadn’t passed away,” she said.

  Deros nodded but went on to argue immediately, “Yes, that much is true, but it was only because your father gained a reputation of one to be reckoned with. Once you’ve gained a similar reputation, once it’s known that you too are to be reckoned with, nobody will dare threaten you, or your lands, any longer.”

  “My father’s reputation took forty years to build,” she replied, “and far more bloodshed than I think even myself capable of.”

  Deros smiled, taking her by surprise. He turned to her, lifting his hand to her face and quickly realising his error. He hung his head, his smile never fading, “May I, your Majesty?” he asked, speaking in a whisper could’ve been carried away by the breeze. She nodded slowly, smiling as she relished in the sensation of his skin brushing against her cheek as he tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was enough to make the ground beneath her feet move, causing her to grab at his shirt where it was tucked into his trousers. The tips of his fingers massaged the nape of her neck while his kiss robbed her of breath, dizzying her into withdrawing. “You needn’t carry concerns,” he whispered, through the vertigo that simultaneously dulled and heightened her senses. “We won’t allow Azura to attack. They’ll bring your kingdom no harm.”

  She reached for his hands, entwining her fingers with his in silence before bringing his knuckles to her lips. The peace he brought her was outstanding. He quelled the nerves within her, something no one had been able to do. He scared away the shadows of her dark and twisted soul and bestowed love and affection upon her as though she was, somehow, deserving of it. For a reason she couldn’t explain, his very presence had convinced her, if only for a few moments at a time, that, perhaps, she deserved the ounce of happiness she received while standing in his embrace.

  She slipped her arms around his waist, holding him tightly to her as he did the same. She looked out at the view and she could swear that the Azurian ships had made their way closer, even in the impeding darkness and across turbulent waves. “It won’t be long until they’re in our presence,” she said, feeling him rest his chin atop her head to follow her line of sight. “They won’t be easy to ignore, most certainly not for the people. Their presence will impede trade and stifle our resources—their approach will demand a response.”

  “Such a thing will take weeks,” Deros whispered, dismissive.

  “Yet it will only take days to drive up prices in the market, to scare the people into thinking this’ll be more of a problem than I’m willing to admit,” she said.

  “Our actions will be swift, in such a case,” Deros said, taking her hand in his, drawing her away from the sight as they walked to the nearest tower that would take them down from the Capital’s wall.

  Sybelle’s lips tugged into a wide smile, one she wasn’t the slightest bit worried about showing him as she raised a delicate eyebrow in his direction. Unable to help herself, she asked in a teasing voice, ”Oh? You have a plan for such actions then?”

  Deros cocked his head to one side, the crescent moon above them adding just a touch of light to the highest points of his angular features. “I have no plans as of yet,” he confessed, “but we are capable people, you and I,” he said.

  “It’s early days,” Sybelle agreed. Casting her gaze back out at the sea, the view began to disappear the further away they walked, “but they carry an advantage.”

  “The only advantage they carry is the knowledge of what it is they’re intending,” he said, eager to make his point but not so much as to argue with her. “You carry the advantage of living behind an entirely fortified kingdom.”

  “You know as well as I do that it doesn’t mean that damage cannot be done,” she said, bringing herself to a stop. “It’s true that we don’t rely on trade in the same manner that Azura does but trade is still very much important to us.”

  “Lionessa will survive whatever it is Azura decides to throw its way,” Deros said, turning around to capture her face in his hands once more.

  Sybelle recoiled slightly, startling him momentarily, “You don’t understand my intentions at all,” she said, placing her hands back atop the wall and eyeing him over her shoulder. “I don’t just want to survive Azura’s advance,” she said, her nose crinkling.
“I want them to suffer for what they have done. I want them to regret ever having turned me away when I went, on my knees, and begged them for their assistance.” Her hands clenched into fists which she brought to her mouth as her arms began to shake with a mixture of rage and fear, “I want them to regret ever thinking they could come here and try to scare me with their presence,” she said.

  Deros smirked against her temple, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “Then we’ll make it so they have such regrets,” he said, his voice a devilish whisper in her ear. “We will ascertain they realise their error.”

  Sybelle relaxed in his embrace, comforted by the fact that there was somebody in this world who perceived matters the very same way she did. She kissed the inside of one of his arm’s and stayed there, staring in silence, for a little while longer.

  Eventually, they made their way down the tower and across the path to the palace. She didn’t care for the glances she received while walking side-by-side with him but she knew that, out of respect for her, he dropped his hand out of hers and to his side far too soon. She allowed it, only because having him by her side was almost enough for the moment.

  They arrived at her chambers, the doors opened promptly by one of the guards, and Deros went to slip away with nothing more than a deep bow. She laughed, taking him by the hand and luring him into her room with no caution as to what the guards thought of her and her behaviour—a matter that caused a flash of concern to cross the former Evradian General’s features. She wrapped her arms around his waist, drawing light, dainty patterns in the small of his back through his clothing. She cast a brief glance over her shoulder where Ellyn stood, no doubt trying her utmost to keep her mouth from falling open at her Queen’s blatant actions. “Go and get some rest, Ellyn,” she said, never forgetting that, in spite of the servant’s views, she was, and always had been, a friend.

  Ellyn scuttled towards them, bowed her head with her eyes cast towards the ground and then left, having the guards shut the door behind her. Sybelle slipped her hands into Deros’s and pulled him towards her bed, finding the momentary uncertainty in his gaze dissipate, only to be replaced with a blazing fire. He picked her up and laid her back onto the mattress, his hands roaming across all the bare flesh he could find while his lips captured hers, dizzying her with the heat that emitted from them and suffocated her in their surroundings.

  His fingers at the back of her head, holding her lips to his until they struggled to breathe, were enough to send chills down her spine, delighting her with the most delicious sensations running through her. Her hands roamed over his jacket, deftly undoing ever single button on his shirt until she caught sight of his pale flesh. She wanted nothing more than to rid themselves of their clothing, to feel his skin flush against her own, igniting sensations within her heart and body that she’d only ever experienced in his arms.

  “I want you,” he whispered against her ear, desperation and pleading in his voice and gaze as one hand reached for her curves beneath her dress. The desire he had for her was clear in his eyes whenever she looked at him and, to her, there was nothing more beautiful than being wanted for everything that she was. He accepted her. He craved her. For her beauty, for her strength, for the ugliness that was her soul. He craved it all and worshipped it all. He withdrew ever so slightly, just enough to truly look at her and for her to look at him. His breathing was heavy, no doubt out of such restraint as he lowered himself to her, pressing his lips against the shell of her ear before whispering, “Will you have me?”

  She cupped his face in her hands, drawing his lips up to hers to kiss them passionately, “Yes,” she whispered, combing her fingers through his hair. “Yes, of course,” she replied, wanting nothing more than to ravish him. And, in that moment, she realised that his feelings for her were certainly reciprocated. She accepted him. For his beauty, for his strength, and for the ugliness of his blackened soul.

  Ridded of clothing and feeling him in the very depths of her, her arms embracing him and clinging to him, she realised that it was no longer just acceptance. She loved him. She loved him so much that she ached for him, for his touch and for his loyalty.

  She laid her head on his shoulder, revelling in the luxury of his embrace as they both spiralled down from the high that they had experienced together. She skimmed her hand over the expanse of his torso, feeling the muscles beneath her palm shift as the sweat upon his skin dried and cooled him. The rhythmic beat of his heart, on any other day, may have been just enough to lull her to sleep like a lullaby to a child. Instead, she lifted her head from his shoulder, inhaling deeply to look up at him as he enjoyed the last of the intoxicating sensations he’d experienced. He was so perfect, she thought, admiring his profile until he glanced towards her, his lips breaking into a tender smile. Her eyelids fluttered shut and she placed her head back down, running the tip of her finger through the contours of the muscles of his chest and stomach. “Would that my hate for Azura could dissipate in the same manner it has for you,” she whispered, “perhaps then I would not be so troubled by the thought of revenge.”

  “The thought of revenge troubles you?” he asked, brushing his thumb against her temple in a soothing gesture.

  Truthfully, in part, it didn’t. “I did not have a heart for revenge once,” she said. “I was not always so consumed.”

  “And that is what concerns you?”

  “The fact that I’m not terribly concerned is what concerns me,” she replied.

  He brought her to lie down once more, laying her head on a pillow before looming over her. His fingers skimmed her jawbone with care, his thumb caressing her cheek as he looked down at her with a troubled expression in his eyes. “Is there nothing I can do to take your mind off such concerns?”

  She smiled joyfully, lining his frown with the tip of her index finger, taken aback by the manner in which he’d burdened himself with her worries. “You needn’t think too much of me,” she whispered. “Though, I must confess to being touched by your consideration.”

  Deros fell into silence. He hardly seemed touched by her words, seeming all the more consumed in thoughts that she imagined involved trying to elevate her mood. He rested his head on his hand and the exhaustion had just began to settle upon his shoulders, his eyes falling shut even as he remained propped up, his thumb stroking her cheek, back and forth, for some time. He broke into a smile just when she’d thought him to have slept, “What have you done?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

  She smirked, her eyelids falling shut as she inhaled deeply, arching her back. “I often ask myself the very same question,” she replied.

  His eyelids parted, enough to show the amber of his enticing gaze, “I meant, what have you done to me?”

  She placed her hands onto his shoulders, rolling him onto his back before taking position over him. She leaned in, running one hand through his hair while the other slid down his chest, asking softly, “What do you think I’ve done to you?”

  “Perhaps you’re a witch,” he whispered, brushing her hair out of her face. “I don’t know,” he added, smiling. “All I’m aware of is that, somehow, you’ve changed me in ways I cannot quite describe.”

  She slipped off him, bringing herself to nestle in the crook of his arm as she returned her head to his shoulder. “I don’t think it as such,” she said. “Mostly because I don’t think myself capable of such a thing.”

  “Consider it whatever you will,” he said, arching his back as he became comfortable, strengthening his hold around her.

  They both went silent after that. He was sound asleep, last she checked, with a look of peace on his face that she was thankful for. She laid her head back down and tried to join him in slumber, willing herself to do so constantly, only to find her mind taken back to that day in Azura—the day she’d fallen to her knees in front of Queen Merra and King Alessio, begging for them to assist her against Evrad. She couldn’t rip their reply out of her mind, no matter how hard she’d tried. Queen Merra had been so c
old, so stoic and unsympathetic towards her plight, with not a single consideration made towards the girl who had only just lost her father before her kingdom was threatened.

  And King Alessio. He was entirely different and, yet, she couldn’t find it within herself to place any less blame upon his shoulders. He could have turned his mother away. He could have shown his own mother that it was he who was to be making the decisions, a King in his own right. But he didn’t. He stuck beside his mother and turned Sybelle away with a pity that was almost sickening. The very sensation of his hands upon her cheek, looking back on it now, was enough to turn her stomach. There was nothing she could’ve done then, so terrified of turning away his advances upon her, of insulting him in his own home, that he would never consider helping her at all. A lot of good that restraint had done her.

  And the very worst part of all this, to her, was that she’d thought about revenge against them long before they had made an attempt on her shores. She wanted to return to them with her success against Evrad, and show them that she was capable of defending herself, to show them that she would no longer be bullied into submission. And, now, they advanced upon her, giving her ample opportunity to inflict the revenge she’d so desired—without having to make the first move.

  But how? That was the question. That was what she couldn’t decide and sleep would continue to evade her until she’d come up with a plan that she was sure she could implement.

  It wasn’t safe, it wasn’t sane. No good could come from angering the King and Queen of Azura. But, in the end, if it made no difference at all, if they would advance on her kingdom either way, she didn’t care for what was safe or for what was sane. She cared that she put up a fight. She cared that she gave them the hardest time possible. She cared to prove to them that they wouldn’t do as they pleased with her. They would not walk all over her.