by Jaci Burton
What started out a gentle kiss intensified. Roarke's fingers dug into her hips as if he were marking her as his own. His mouth seared her lips, her throat, blazing a hot trail over her shoulder.
There was not air enough to fill her lungs. His passion overwhelmed her, and yet matched her fervent desire for him. He moved his hands over her waist, her ribs, cupping her breasts and grazing her nipples with his thumbs.
"Yes, touch me, Roarke. I need your hands, your mouth on me. Everywhere."
Desperation tinged her every word. She did not know if she had the magic to heal him, but would give up everything to ensure his safe return to health. In merging with him here, she would forever lose some of her power, and yet she willingly gave it up to him.
"I need to be inside you, my faerie. We've waited too long already."
"Aye. Hurry."
He laid her on the soft ground of the misty darkness, warmth enveloping her as he pulled her legs apart and settled between them. Tension knotted the muscles of his arms and she squeezed them, reveling in the feel of his strength.
A sense of urgency surged within her. She fed off Roarke's hunger, knowing they did not need slow caresses or gentle play. Her pussy was moist, opening and inviting him to enter. She was ready now.
She reached for his shaft, its life pulse surging against her hand. He let loose a groan as she stroked him, pulling him towards her cunt, lifting her hips in a wordless sign of her desire.
No, this was not real, and yet it would feel the same as if they were actually making love. This would be her only chance to bring him inside her, to become one with him, and she wanted the memory to hold onto almost as much as she wanted to heal him.
She guided him to her entrance and removed her hand. Roarke took over, leaning over her, moving forward, the tip of his shaft brushing her slit. Her juices poured from her, the small quakes inside her only the beginning of what she knew would be a magical journey.
"Now, Roarke, please."
"Aye, faerie. Now." With one quick thrust he embedded himself within her, so deeply she felt him in her womb. She cried out and wrapped her legs around him, holding him close. Her body surrounded him, squeezing his rigid length.
Solara focused on his face and opened herself up, letting her magic and her love pour into him.
He shuddered over her, rocking back and forth. With every thrust she tightened more around him until he let loose a groan.
She felt his strength begin to grow as he drove into her over and over, taking what she willingly offered.
Afterwards she would be weakened, but now she drew on his growing power, giving back what he gave.
Faster and harder he thrust within her until she shrieked her pleasure. A part of her mind begged for reality, but this would be all she would have. She pulled Roarke closer, wanting to feel every inch of his body against her sweat-soaked skin. She caressed his arms, his shoulders, drawing his head down to her mouth to capture his lips in a kiss that bound them forever.
"Come for me, faerie," he said through clenched teeth. "Come on me. I want to feel your nectar pour over my cock."
His control was admirable, yet she did not require it. She had held on only long enough to restore him, but now she could not hold back the torrent. Gripping his back, raking her nails along his skin, she cried out as the pinnacle reached her, lifting her hips so he could drive hard into her one last time before letting out a deep cry and pouring his seed inside her.
They stayed within each other's arms for as long as the magic allowed. When she felt the connection breaking, she gazed deeply into his eyes, memorizing every line, every feature, knowing she would never be this close to him again.
The words she wanted to say would have to stay within her. She would not pain him more than she already had. With a feather light touch of her lips against his, she broke the connection, finding herself lying next to him on the bed.
She felt his head, pleased to find his temperature had broken and his skin was moist and cool.
The magic had worked. Exhaustion overcame her, and she went in search of Isolde, asking her to sit with Roarke. She entered her chambers and climbed into bed, so weak she could barely pull the coverlet over herself.
Part of her magic was now forever inside the man she loved. Perhaps it wasn't what she had most wanted to give him, and yet it would have to do. He would recover now, and she took some satisfaction in knowing that she had helped.
For the first time in days, sleep overtook her.
Chapter Thirteen
Roarke healed much faster than even he anticipated.
Much of that, he knew, was because of Solara. He felt the magic of her that she had left within him while he was feverish, remembered every moment that she shared herself with him.
He survived the attack because of her unselfish giving of her magic to him. That had cost her dearly, something she would never be able to retrieve. And yet he would not reveal to others what she had given away.
He only wished he could give something back to her.
Since he awoke the day before, he had not seen her. Surprisingly, the wound at his side was nearly healed, and he did not require any time to rest. 'Twas if he had gone to sleep whole and had awoken in the same state.
Resuming his duties immediately, he had stayed busy, not once seeking out Solara., knowing she needed time to rest. And yet he missed her smile, missed seeing her at meals, missed working with her. Stars, he even missed arguing with her!
For two days he had allowed her time to recover. Now, he wanted to find her, to thank her for what she had done.
Soon, Garick and Trista would return from Greenbriar, and Solara would be leaving. He had to see her one last time before she left, had to tell her what her gift meant to him.
Dawn cast a magnificent glow over the day. Rolling clouds tinged with pink strolled slowly over the castle. Roarke dressed, hurrying so that he could find Solara.
A knock came just as he finished fastening his tunic. He opened the door, surprised to find Solara standing there.
Each time he gazed upon her his heart pounded. Her hair was pulled back from her face, her eyes widening as she looked at him.
"You look well, Roarke," she whispered.
He motioned her inside and shut the door. "Thank you. I feel quite fine."
"I am glad." She wrung her hands together, her back turned to him.
He felt awkward, did not know what to say. But he had to begin somewhere, had to tell her what her gift meant to him. "I was going to find you this morning, to tell you--" Before he could finish she turned around. "I will not see you again before I leave." Roarke frowned. "What do you mean?"
"What happened to you out there...everything that happened, was my fault."
"No, Solara, 'twas not your--"
"Let me finish, please. Yes, 'twas my fault entirely. I behaved foolishly. I should have left for Greenbriar when it was my time. Instead, I thought...well, it does not matter now what I thought. The truth is I have been playing a terrible game with your affections. One that was not mine to play. I drove you through the castle gates and put you and the other men in harm's way." She was wrong. He did nothing that he did not want to do. He had to tell her. "Solara." But she held up her hand. "Please, Roarke. I came to tell you that I will no longer come to you, will no longer tease and torment you with something we both want but know we cannot have. I have much to do to prepare for my departure in a few days, and I will stay out of your way. You need not worry that I will say or do anything to embarrass you or cause you to dishonor yourself. I will do my duty to my people. I will marry Braedon of Greenbriar."
The words he wanted to say to her did not come. She was right. They had to stay apart He knew it, but it left a bitter taste in his mouth. "Thank you for saving my life."
"'Twas the least I could do. Now, if you will excuse me, I have duties to attend to." She turned away and hurried out the door before he could say anything more.
Truly, what would he have sa
id? Despite his assurances to her that he had done what he wanted to do, he knew that they had both been at fault. It was time he realized it, for she certainly had. And yet he had wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her that she did nothing wrong, that the fault had been his.
This is what he had wanted all along. Distance between him and Solara, her promise that she would do nothing to compromise the vows they both held dear.
And yet, now that she had affirmed what he himself believed in, his heart clenched painfully in his chest.
He would no longer see her, no longer touch her.
Damn the stars! This was not what he wanted at all!
Noele watched Roarke and Solara avoid each other, and wondered what had happened to cause the rift between them.
They belonged together. She knew it as surely as she knew her own destiny lay with Garick. 'Twas simply good fortune that had led her to love with her own husband.
But for Solara and Roarke, such was not the case. Yet the visions persisted, still too murky to make out, more like a feeling, a certainty that Solara's fate was not tied with Braedon of Greenbriar, but rather with Roarke.
It would seem the two of them could not come to that same realization on their own. Perhaps they needed a little more pushing in the right direction.
As Roarke went about his duties in one part of the castle, Solara went in another. Deciding to put an end to their separation, she began with Roarke, following him to Garick's office.
"I would speak with you alone," she said, closing the door behind her.
She should not interfere, yet something told her that Roarke and Solara would not find their happiness without her help. She sat down with him on a long sofa and took his hands in hers. She smiled as she felt part of Solara's magic within him. She knew her sister had brought Roarke back from near-death, which only convinced her even more that her sister and this elvin warrior shared the same fate.
"Is there something wrong, my queen?"
"Nay. I wish to speak with you about Solara."
His brows knit together. "What of her?"
"Tell me how you feel about her."
Roarke drew his hands from hers and stood, his eyes widening. "I feel nothing for her!" Noele laughed. "You forget we are linked together. I know exactly how you feel, despite your attempts to hide your emotions. You love my sister."
"I do not."
"You do. Admit it, if not to her, then at least to me. 'Tis no crime to admit you love someone, Roarke." His shoulders slumped and he sat back down, studying her face. Finally, with a long sigh, he nodded.
"Aye, I love her."
Warmth filled her at the thought of the happiness her sister could have with Roarke. "What are you going to do about it?"
He turned his head and looked at her as if she had gone daft. "Do about it? Nothing. What can I do? She belongs to another."
"Do not be so certain of that fact. Sometimes our destiny is clouded and may not actually lead down the prepared path."
"She is betrothed to a king. She is a princess of D'Naath. You know the customs."
"Aye, I know. I also know those customs can be circumvented." His eyes widened. "You would have me dishonor my king, your husband?" His duty to Garick was admirable, but Noele refused to allow that to alter the course of his destiny. "Of course not. It is not a dishonor to love someone, Roarke."
"'Twould be for me. To take what is not mine is an unforgivable offense."
"But what if she is yours? What if you two are fated? Would you walk away from that?"
"If I were a king and she was betrothed to me, I would never let her go. But I am no king and she is not mine."
"Tell me, Roarke. What does your future hold?"
"I know nothing of the future. My powers do not include the foretelling of what is yet to be, and neither do yours."
Actually, her powers told her some of the future. The rest was obvious. "True enough. But envision your future. What do you see?"
He paused and looked straight ahead, as if the colorful tapestry on the wall would reveal his fate. "I see myself doing what I do now. Protecting Winterland, and serving you and Garick."
"Beyond that. To a wife, children, a family of your own. What do you see?"
"I see nothing like that."
"What if you could have those things? Who would you see then?"
"Solara."
He had said it so easily. "Then what stops you? Solara does not wish to marry Braedon. Petition Garick for the right to ask for her."
"I will not. 'Tis important to all our kingdoms for Braedon to marry a D'Naath princess."
"Solara is not the one for him."
"You know this to be a fact?"
"I feel it."
Roarke stood and walked to the window. "What you feel has no bearing on what is. Feelings are nothing more than foolish wishes."
Men were so stubborn sometimes. Roarke reminded her of Garick. Once his mind was set on something, 'twas difficult to change it. She stood and walked to him, stopping behind him to lay her hand upon his shoulder. "Roarke, love is never foolish. If you want Solara, then tell her. Fate will find a way."
"'Tis too late. She will leave soon."
She turned him around to face her. In so many ways, she loved Roarke. Not with the same all-consuming passion she felt for Garick, but a fondness that came from being linked to his soul.
Caressing his cheek, she smiled. "No, 'tis not too late. Listen to your heart for once instead of your head.
'Tis your heart that will lead you to your fate."
*
Roarke thought of nothing else but his conversation with Noele. Had he been wrong in allowing custom to rule his actions? Was he possibly walking away from his own destiny by letting Solara go? What would happen if he claimed her for his own?
No. They were not meant to be together. Even Solara admitted that her fate was with Braedon. He would not interfere.
Scrubbing his hand over the back of his neck, Roarke stood and paced his chambers, tired of battling the demons that cursed him. The sun had long ago set on what had been a terminally long day. The castle was quiet, and he had been the last one about, finally giving in and entering his lonely bedchamber.
All day he had watched and waited for Solara, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, and yet she had remained true to her word and had not crossed his path. He ached to see the bright smile on her full lips, the way her eyes twinkled like the sun flitting through the leaves of the trees, the sexy way she moved that inflamed his desire.
And with those came visions of her lying in the arms of another man. An image that filled him with jealousy.
Hell's damnation. He did love her, and he did not want another man to touch her.
Which begged the question of how far was he willing to go to see that no other man ever had her? Was he willing to give up his honor, his position? Was he willing to change not only his life, but hers?
Roarke had never dishonored himself or a woman before. From the moment he and Garick had been bonded as children, he knew he would always remain faithful to his duty. Could he turn his back on everything he believed in for the chance to love the woman who haunted his every moment?
Noele's words still pounded away at the logic in his head. Should he, for the first time in his life, follow the dictates of his heart?
By all that was magic, he did not know what to do!
*
Solara shifted in the middle of the bed, then sat up and stared at the only light, that of the moon filtering in through the window. Sleep would not come tonight, she knew it. She drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. The night creatures called out through the partially open window, singing a wailing lament that echoed the stirrings in her heart.
She missed Roarke. It had only been a day, and she longed to see his face, gaze upon his magnificent body. Just to be in the same room with him filled her with peace and contentment. Apart, she was only half of a whole.
A strong u
rge to go to him made her ache all over. But she promised she would not. No matter how difficult it was, she would see it through.
The knob on her door startled her as it rattled. Raw fear crept into her throat, her heart slamming against her ribs. Wizards had not entered the castle since Noele had been abducted. Surely elvin and faerie magic was still able to keep them at bay.
But the door opened with a slight squeak. Thoughts of screaming out occurred to her, but she remained silent, hoping it was only Isolde or one of her sisters. The light streamed in from the window, shining upon her. She had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. Whoever stood at the doorway could see her clearly, yet they were cast in darkness.
"You take the very breath from me, faerie."
"Roarke," she whispered. Instead of calming, her blood pounded, her body trembling at the thought of what reason he would have to be standing in her bedchamber.
The door shut, followed by the sound of the bolt. He had locked them in.
He moved across the room and stopped next to her bed. The moonlight filtered over him. He still wore his breeches, though they were partially unlaced. His shirt lay open, his broad chest and firm abdomen beautiful in the silver light. She clutched the coverlet in her hands to keep from reaching out for him.
Curiosity mixed with an elemental excitement. She was almost afraid to ask him, certain he came here for some other reason than the one she wished. Yet she had to know. One way or the other, she had to know. "Why are you here?"
He waited before answering, as if he struggled with his response. But finally he said, "I can no longer stay away."
It took a moment for his words to make sense. "But I thought--"
"Does not matter what you thought, or what I thought. We are fated, my faerie princess. Or damned.
I'm not sure which. All I am certain of is if I don't take you into my arms and make love to you tonight, I will regret it until I die."
Her heart soared with love, knowing what it cost him to be here with her. What would happen after, she did not know. Whatever happened, she would accept the consequences willingly.
She let the sheet fall, baring her body to the waist. Pulling the coverlet aside, she moved over, leaving room for him in her bed.