Dark King's Human Bride

By Tessa Stockton

By all outward appearances, among a religious community, Eliana's marriage to Jabez is good and righteous. But behind closed doors, it is harsh and stripped of joy—and few know the truth. Her husband, a leader of their worship temple, upstanding to his followers, treats her like an insignificant bug; at the same time, demands her attention while isolating her from others. A trapped, desperate, and lonely woman, Eliana cries out to El Roi, the God who sees. As the circus of days has turned into years, the petition of her lips continues to pour out from the secret chambers of her crushed heart. Hailing from a family of healers, the irony of her wounds nearly destroys her. She struggles to remember who she once was, her essence buried and unreachable.

 

As evil arises from the underground in blows of destruction to her people by the Darkolls—a race descended from dark elves and trolls—Eliana thinks she understands the violent history of the savage species. Until she's confronted by a Darkoll with an agenda. Eliana is weary of gruff males, yet that seems to be what she attracts: the cruel and manipulative ones who want to conquer the gentlehearted. She fears for her wellbeing, what little of it she has left.

 

With the Darkoll's eyes fixed on Eliana, she begins to see there is something deeper to him than what lurks in his ancient gaze; his heart speaks, too. And it comes in the gentle hush of a melody, carried by ravens and a prayer stone, telling her he's more than a strong-arm with a tainted past. That maybe El Roi has a purpose beyond what either of them could fathom, and it begins with the healing nature of something so very simple. Hope.

 

Choices make destinies. Destinies can also change.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Creative Purpose Publications
• Release date: Jan 24, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201540197

Tessa Stockton

Tessa Stockton is a speculative fiction novelist, freelancer, and editor living in the United States. She is a former professional dancer.

Book preview

1

T he woods are closing in on us. We should go back.

Eliana stood among the towering cedars. Lifted her smiling face toward the boughs of the forest giants giving shade. Not yet. Closed her eyes and filled her lungs with the woody spice and sweetness of comfort. I can breathe here.

What are you talking about? This place is claustrophobic. It frightens me. And what about wild animals?

What about them? she asked her friend. Although friend was a stretch of definition when her husband sent Mara as constant company only to keep track of her. Eliana practiced kindness, but the two women had little in common.

They’ll eat us.

They haven’t yet. Besides, this is their home we’re visiting.

Exactly. We don’t belong here.

I don’t exactly belong there either, thought Eliana. There meaning back home. She bit her tongue, trying to clear negative thoughts. Except, deep inside, the truth pervaded. Often, she’d wake up in the mornings and instead of giving thanks for another day, she asked the numbed mind carried in the dutiful body: Who are you? I don’t even know you anymore. She also asked for the millionth time: How did I end up in this situation?

Powerless to change circumstances, it couldn’t matter. And when conditions suffocated, the forest proved the only place Eliana could breathe with ease, so she fled there whenever she could.

And the birds... they flittered and zipped through the swaying branches, or flew high above, dissolving into the sky.

To dissolve into the sunlit sky... that was freedom.

If she ever envied anything, Eliana envied the birds.

"With or without you, I’m going back! I hate it here. On a complaint that sounded very much like Eliana’s own husband, Mara tugged up the layered hems of her cumbersome skirt for the hundredth time and half-stumbled in a vague direction. Something feels off today. It’s like the forest has ears and listens to everything we say."

The woods do listen, Mara, life is teeming here. Although she couldn’t put her finger on it, she knew what Mara said rang true. Something did feel off, different today.

Her friend’s voice rent the air with a shrill scream.

Mara, what is it? Eliana rushed to her.

The young woman’s eyes sprung tears from her reddened face. She fixed her forefinger toward a black insect on the move. Though her pointed index locked, her entire hand shook. What is that?

What? You mean that? Eliana chuckled. It’s probably a harmless spider. They’re interesting, don’t you think?

Disbelief stretched across her face. No! It’s hideous.

Mara, calm down. We don’t even know what it is yet. Here, Eliana bent to get a better look. Well, it looks more like a beetle, but I don’t know—

It was not a beetle or a spider or any insect at all. Black like onyx, a stone smoother and shinier than any she’d ever seen shimmied on its own.

It’s some sort of magic. Mara’s eyes nearly popped. Rocks, they’re possessed here!

No, they are not. Do not demonize the stones, Mara, just because of something you can’t explain. Eliana stooped to grab the black rock. Almost flat like a pancake, it had two smooth sides. When she touched the object, the thing didn’t stop vibrating; in fact, it hummed.

Even the rocks cry out in praise, it whispered. She held the stone first to her ear and then against her bosom.

How can you embrace it like that? You don’t even know what it is. It is no ordinary stone.

Eliana smoothed her thumb over the pulsating object she now gazed at in her palm. No, but I hear its praise to its creator, our creator, so I do not fear it.

Rocks do not praise, Eliana. I question your judgment. Your husband was right in having someone oversee you. You are not right in the head.

Eliana faced Mara, tamping down the anger flushing through her. First, everything—all creation praises its maker. Just look around you at the trees, the hills, the streams of water that help give us life. Mara, she drew in a sum of air, counting the seconds to a calmer disposition, if we won’t praise our God then the rocks will. Our ancient writings tell us so. She turned away so Mara would not see her sadness, which became more difficult to conceal. As for my husband...

I know, Mara sighed. You don’t have to say it. I’ll say it for you. You are not crazy. Jabez is about as possessive as a green-eyed snake, imperceptive as an ostrich, and with his words he possesses the snapping jaws of those barracuda I’ve heard our villagers tell in their strange tales of faraway seas.

I-I wasn’t going to say any of that. My husband can be a bit rough, she nodded. Still, I am devoted to Jabez, I always have been and will be until I die.

"A bit rough? After a pshaw, dramatic Mara softened. You sacrifice your happiness for the sake of others."

Is that a bad thing?

It’s honorable... that you try so hard. But does holiness mean you have to give up happiness? Her voice still carried alarm. I just wish our people allowed divorce on occasion—

Mara!

Well, it’s true. I witness you—sweet, unassuming Eliana—with interests, and gifts of your family’s trade of natural healing, yet Jabez doesn’t share these things with you; doesn’t support them or even try to like anything you like. No, he strips your freedom so that you’re left there, more or less, a domestic slave to serve and occupy yourself on only him. He’s finally crushed all the good pursuits out of you, is what he’s done. I’ve watched it carry on over the years with my own eyes. Life is tragic when you wither and die while you live, Eliana.

I am not dying—

Yes, you are, on the inside. Maybe others can’t see it, but I can. I’m with you every single day, and I see your vacant eyes fill with moments of intense longing. Usually out here. That’s mostly why I don’t like coming out here. Your entrapment is tangible; it scares me.

Eliana looked away. She slid the black stone into the pocket of her apron and brushed her hands together with a long exhale. Well, enough said. Jabez can be charming still. I was sixteen when he first charmed me and we married. Oh, he was so handsome, too! Still is, but back when he was younger, she smiled but the whimsy disintegrated. He took me away from my family and now nine years have passed without seeing them. We lost our two children. Life can be hard. But we have good moments... every so often.

Still, it frightens me, that I don’t think I ever want to marry. The younger woman shook her head. I wouldn’t want these things to happen to me. Jabez is self-centered and mean—more than anybody I’ve ever known—

Don’t speak about my husband that way.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry, she lifted her quivering chin, but it’s true. His behavior is like an illness, she pointed to her noggin. And I-I don’t want to move about like you, numbed to everything because of disappointment. It’s like a curse.

Her comment pained Eliana. A knife plunged into the heart, really. She wasn’t so numb after all. Yet, she didn’t have an adequate response for Mara, no words of encouragement. Well, it’s best we be getting back.

2

When they were almost at the edge of the forest near the clearing, Mara asked Eliana, "Why do you think Jabez keeps you from the things that bring you joy? I mean, I thought our God, El Roi , who watches over us and cares for us, is big on joy; that he wants us to experience it and have it fully for our lives. She stopped walking and looked after Eliana, who only slowed a little. Eliana?"

Eliana froze then, but did not make eye contact with Mara. What is it? She wished the uncomfortable conversation would end, preferring instead a refreshing moment of quiet denial.

I asked you a question.

Yes.

After a pause, Mara urged, Well?

The cicadas’ tymbals buzzed, and the Jerusalem crickets hissed, clicked, and drummed on the warm summer’s eve.

Eliana waded into the long-bladed wheatfield, the golden stalks billowing around her like rivulets of waves lapping the shore of a pond after tossing in a large stone. "El Roi is my joy. She brushed her palms over the bearded tops, eyeing the way they moved around her at the gentlest touch. And this brings me joy," she said, her eyes squinting in delight.

But that’s not what I mean. I intend the question about your husband.

Mara, one thing you have to realize is that I was young and smitten and this is how things have evolved. I chose him as my own. I couldn’t foresee or predict or even imagine that my only moments of joy would be in these simplest pleasures, and that I’d have to experience them alone. Well, not alone exactly. She attempted a smile. You’re here.

Eliana, I need to know. I have a suitor and I-I, she huffed, well, I want to be happy.

Of course.

How do I make sure I don’t end up in your situation? She mumbled, No offense.

None taken. Eliana swallowed hard. "I would pray. I would not marry unless you’re absolutely sure it’s what El Roi would want. Since he’s in the business of our joy and all." Her smile came on, meek but sincere.

"Did you pray?"

Yes and no. Mostly no. I was immature and impetuous. Mara...

Yes?

If you don’t get a direct answer after praying, she paused, then I’d give it time between you and your suitor to get to know each other. Learn if you share the same interests, if your personalities go together before you vow to him your life. Because sharing the same faith is not enough; it’s necessary but not enough. Jabez and I grew up understanding the same basic tenets, but we are hardly compatible in spirituality—or anything else in the day-to-day. Even our perspectives on faith seem to come from opposite sides of the same stream. She sighed.

Did you imagine he’d be so jealous of your interests?

No. She clamped her jaw. Breathed deeply the sunbaked pine and cedar they left for another day, and the milky sweetness of the wheatfield they now swished through. And I don’t think he’s so jealous as he insatiably needs attention.

"All of your attention."

Yes. He doesn’t care for anything that takes my attention away from him, he needs it for himself so there’s room left for nothing else; nothing but him.

A reddish eyebrow perked up. You’re lonely, if you ask me.

Jabez is a busy man.

Yet he expects you to have nothing except readiness for his beck and call?

Mara, this is not helping, she gestured to her own mouth, then Mara’s.

I think he’s wrung you to dry bones. She bowed her head after the glare Eliana shot her. Murmured, Sorry.

A weighty exhale streamed between Eliana’s clamped teeth. He requires a lot, and if he doesn’t receive an adequate amount of attention, he’ll create diversions or obstacles to make sure he gets it. I made the mistake of thinking smothering was loving, but it’s not. Tongue against teeth, she clacked. I don’t think he’s aware that he does it.

Don’t you talk about it?

Eliana snorted, "I’ve tried, believe me. But he’s like a yoked stallion that plows down everything in sight according to how he sees things and nobody else."

"But because he thinks his ways are right doesn’t mean that El Roi thinks they’re right."

Eliana’s smile widened. You show a great deal of wisdom for such a young age, Mara. I believe you are going to be just fine with decisions about marriage. She strolled over to the girl and took both her hands in her own. You will be happy, Mara, I just know it, she gave her hands a tender shake.

They walked through the field of Jabez and Eliana’s farmstead.

Oh, look, Eliana exclaimed. She bent and plucked a single purple flower and held it in her palm. A wild crocus. She cast her eyes over the immediate area. Growing all alone out here; how strange yet how beautiful. Eliana admired the blossom.

What a lovely flower with that yellow in the center, and those striking red strands.

Yes, these red threads, when dried, are the saffron we use to season some of our food. They’re beneficial to us besides flavor, of course; good for our health, they improve one’s mood, this upbeat mention made her friend grin.

Mara nudged Eliana’s elbow, You ought to use more of that in food you prepare for Jabez. She laughed in a playful fit.

Oh, believe me, I tried—that, and other helpful plants. She glanced at her askew. He doesn’t like the flavor, any of it. Jabez wants plain meat and potatoes. Anything added, herb, spice, makes him grimace with complaints of an upset stomach.

A look of worry crossed the young girl’s face again.

He’s a simple man.

He seems difficult if you ask me. The girl’s troubled expression deepened.

Don’t worry, Mara. My life is not your life. My man, she shook her head, not yours. May your suitor be everything and more to you, dearest. You deserve a fine husband, one who is most of all, kind. And again, Jabez isn’t so bad...

He’s plain and blunt—

I will not criticize the man I’m devoted to, nor continue hearing criticism about him. This conversation has to stop.

I... I am sorry. It’s just... Mara bit her lower lip. "Well, I just think you excuse blatant shortcomings to help you endure. So he’s a plain man, he can’t help that; but he’s critical of others—most of all, you—and that he can do something about yet doesn’t. Mara glanced at her sheepishly, checking for a reaction to which Eliana gave none. If Jabez doesn’t like saffron, why did you pick the flower rather than let it stay in the field to grow?"

It’s reached its full life already and will only fade and wilt now. Besides, Jabez will harvest this wheat soon. No, I’ll place this blossom in a bowl of water so that I can admire its beauty a little while, she winked to encourage the girl. The saffron I can pluck and use for coloring, too.

Just then, a hump erected. There’s Jabez now, Mara pointed at the bulge of a man near a livestock trough, rubbing his lower back after having crouched over working on something.

Oh, good, Eliana said, lightly. I’ll show him my find of this pretty treasure of a flower. She hooked her arm with Mara’s and they pushed through the field.

3

J abez, Eliana called to her husband. Look what I found in the wheatfield! Her face lit with delight to show him.

You’re crushing the crop, he barked. Flapped his hands to clear out Eliana and Mara. How many times have I told you to go around the field, not tromp through it? He circled his arms, scolding them as he would his children. "Around the field—"

Please, Jabez, lower your voice. I hardly think we’re doing any damage to—

—can’t waste or ruin any bit. Can’t afford that.

But they could. Eliana knew what they had. Yet, as long as she’d known him, he behaved as if they were on the verge of ruin.

She touched his arm, hoping to soften him. See this beautiful crocus I found in the field, she gazed up at him.

What!? In our field? I hope to God they don’t take over and choke the wheat. That’s the last thing we need is a spread of ridiculous flowers.

Flowers that could prove a wonderful crop of their own should they choose. She bit the inside of her cheek.

He made a brusque turn to pick up a hoe, bumping her, knocking the purple blossom out of her palm.

She watched the flower drop and was about to pick it back up when Jabez made a backward step and smashed it under his boot.

You’ll have to show me where you found it growing; make sure there aren’t others cropping up. His eyes flittered over her. What happened to the one you just had?

You stepped on it when it fell to the ground. Her words grew quieter. She sucked in her voice, her thoughts; held them deep inside of her. Wondered if in secret they formed an arsenal, building up to explode at some unfortunate moment. Eliana rubbed her stomach, gone sour. Squashed was the crocus. The purple, yellow, and crimson fluids of the blossom bled out, coloring the soil a brackish brown. A needless botanical tragedy upon Mother Earth’s own back.

He glanced at what remained of the plant and shrugged. No matter. Just a flower.

Now it was just a flower. A metallic taste filled her mouth and Eliana realized too late that she bit the inside of her cheek too hard, as sadness engulfed. A flower was a small thing, but the small things of carelessness, lack of understanding or compassion between them had built up over the years. Still, she had to let this go, and always did. One thing she’d learned quickly of Jabez was to never cross or rebut him. He had to have his way, or she was the one to pay. He never lifted a hand to beat her, but he never let her forget.

Eliana tried every single day to make a happy marriage. From day one until today did she devote her all to him.

She suppressed a sigh and pretended not to notice when Jabez slipped Mara pay. A daily token for monitoring the wife he wouldn’t allow freedom. He would say—because they’d had the discussions—it’s because he appreciated her that he hired a sitter, but the opposite seemed true. Eliana favored solitude, and Jabez, who knew this, would never allow her that peace.

He deprived her of joys and his scolding was endless. Yet she doubted it was intentional. He was, mostly, quite unintentional about things. For his own pursuits, he could drop any stock of money. His quests alone, no matter what they were or how pricey, Jabez claimed, were affordable. He’d remind her of this, too. He toiled and labored and had the sole right to manage resources. Whereas, according to him, she only maintained the household. Eliana could say little about the matter without his firestorm. His ears would not open for her. They hadn’t yet.

A quiet sigh escaped when Eliana thought about running the home, as if chores and domestic duties didn’t evaporate a woman’s energy; her strength dissolving by increments of Jabez’s irritable nature. The loss of their children, one at birth and the other at age four, convinced Jabez that Eliana had nothing to do but sit around and play with the cat.

She carried her weight in farmstead toiling, but also loved the soft and playful nature of the cat—of all the animals. They brought her immense comfort and companionship throughout the days, a secret she kept hidden from Jabez for fear he would get rid of them.

Jabez himself had abrasive skin too thick to receive a kind touch. Because she tried. He was a domineering individual who made demands for attention, just not in the nurturing ways Eliana wanted to share. She had a need, one she was born with, but Jabez blocked that need and the motivation that went with it, until she felt like a shell of a person, lifeless inside. Days blended into each other and lost meaning.

Eliana so often felt purposeless... besides taking care of the animals.

I had to let go of the livestock today, Jabez broke her thoughts, maybe just broke her.

Eliana noticed what she hadn’t before, an overturned water trough.

Draining this for Aba and his family, who want it. Horse left earlier today. While you were out gallivanting in the woods.

Her head shot up; eyes widened. Panic spiraled in the pit of her stomach, making her queasy. That was my horse—

The goats and the rest of the lot went with Ganit.

My father gave that horse—

I’m keeping the oxen for plowing the field.

"To me! He gave the horse to me! How could you without asking, with-without our at-at least talking over it