He sat down next to the fire, keeping her in his lap. His fingers played with a loose strand of her hair, before pushing it behind her ear. “You won’t feel alone with me. I promise.”
Tilting her head back to look at him, her gaze held his. “What happened to me?”
What did happen to her? I’ve traveled these woods too many times to count, and while the trees bother me, nothing like that has happened before. But she didn’t need to know all of that.
He tried to push the question out of his mind and answer as honestly as he could. She deserved that, even if he also tried not to tell her anything that might frighten her too much. “I don’t know.”
“You know something.” She sounded so scared. So vulnerable.
He struggled to find something to say that might reassure her. “The Cahula use these trees to store Life Essence, as they call it. The trees hold memories and connections from many different people. You must have somehow tapped into that.”
It was the only thing that made sense.
“Has it ever happened to you?”
He clenched his teeth. Tell her the truth. “No.”
“Why not? You have magic.”
Not real magic. Anger raced through him, warring with his need to comfort her at all costs. “It doesn’t matter.”
She stiffened in his arms and started to pull away.
He tightened his grip. “I’m sorry. I’m just... not good at comforting other people. Or with questions about magic.”
She settled back into his arms and her gaze met his. For the first time since he’d met her, her eyes held desire, and her gaze slid to his lips.
His breathing grew rapid. She just wanted to be comforted. She didn’t actually find him attractive.
Did she?
A strange look came over her face, and she leaned closer to him. So close there could be no doubt what she wanted.
Fuck it. His lips came down onto hers, and for one perfect moment, he felt the softness of her lips. He tasted the sweetness that could only be Kadelynn. As her lips melded with his, ever-so-slightly, a moan slipped from her lips.
And then, she climbed out of his lap and scrambled away.
Rejection made his chest ache. If I was a lord, she’d have let me kiss her. “More comfortable alone?” he threw the last word at her, enjoying how she flinched.
Good. She deserved to feel a little bit of his own misery.
“You’ve got to stop that.” She didn’t look at him as she spoke.
“Stop what?”
She drew her knees to her chest. “Stop behaving as if I haven’t been clear that my whole focus is on killing a Dragulous. There’s no room for anything else in my life right now.”
He rose. “You say one thing, but do another.”
Finally, she met his eyes. “I was frightened and looking to be comforted.”
“And because I’m just some landless Seer, you wouldn’t even consider allowing something between us,” he spat at her.
Her gaze didn’t leave his. “I don’t want to keep arguing with you.”
“Of course,” he curled his hands into fists. “I’ll remember that my only job is to bring you to a Dragulous, but I want you to remember this discussion the next time you need my help.”
“That’s fair,” she said quietly.
He should’ve shut up there, but he couldn’t. “And, I don’t know a lot, but I know when a woman wants me to kiss her. And you wanted me to kiss you.”
Her cheeks turned pink, and he was relieved when he saw it in her eyes, she had wanted him to kiss her. Somehow, knowing that he hadn’t just forced a kiss on a woman who had no interest in him, made his temper calm, if only by a little. He could try to accept that his beautiful companion didn’t want to have anything happen between them, as long as he knew deep down he wasn’t imagining their connection.
They went about their typical evening routine in silence. It wasn’t until after the fish were eaten, and they settled in for the night that Kadelynn spoke.
“I’ve seen you two times in my village.”
“Yeah?” Where was she going with this?
“The first time, I was fairly young, and more afraid of you than curious, but the last time was just a few months ago.”
“Why didn’t you tell me until now?”
She was quiet for far too long. “Because the last time I saw you you nearly kill a man.”
It wasn’t often he got into a fight. Most people were smart enough to avoid him, so he instantly knew what day she referred to. “That trader, Torrin.”
“Yes.” Her voice was barely a whisper above the sounds of the night bugs calling to one another.
“And did you think the same thing as the others, that I just attacked him for no reason?”
“Does it matter? You’re here now, why don’t you tell me what really happened?”
His hands curled into fists. For a second he considered spouting some knee-jerk reaction, but as quickly as his anger grew he realized it wasn’t her that he was angry with. So, he took a deep breath and relaxed his hands.
“It’s not easy being a Seer with your people. It can be… lonely.” Was he really saying this out loud? “A woman joined me for a meal. I thought at first she must want something out of me, but slowly, it seemed, that she really just enjoyed my company.” A bitter laugh left his lips. “But after she left, I found a precious object stolen from my pocket. A very precious item. I went out in search of it and found Torrin selling it at his booth. And the woman from the tavern at his side.”
It had been a terrible moment. A moment where he’d let down his walls only to realize he’d been betrayed. Of course the woman didn’t just enjoy talking to him. He was a fool to have thought otherwise.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, her words soft and sincere.
He shrugged. “I accused him of thievery, and he attacked me. I could’ve killed him, but I held back.”
“The fight was… bloody.”
He thought back to that day. “Yeah, it was. Sorry you had to see that.”
She rolled onto her side, and their gazes met across the fire. “I’m not afraid of men who fight. Sergeant trained me from the time I was old enough to hold a sword to hold my own. What I don’t like are men who take advantage of people who are too weak to fight back, and you’ve never struck me as that kind of man.”
He felt his lips curl into a smile. “Thanks.”
Tension sung between them, and he wondered if she was experienced enough to realize what these moments meant. Did she understand that the way she stared at him now was more than the way one companion looks at another? And the way his gaze slid over her was definitely not a way he’d ever looked at another woman.
“Do you ever have strange dreams?”
He frowned. Where had that question come from? “Sometimes.”
“Have you ever dreamed of… people with scales on their faces?”
His heart raced. Scales? He only knew a few people with scales on their faces. “Like a reptile?”
She shook her head. “Someone who looks like us… like you, but with scales.”
Like my brother. “Sounds like a strange dream.”
“So you’ve never seen a person who looks like that before?”
“No,” he said the lie.
She got a strange look, and for the briefest moment, he wondered if she could tell he lied. But there was no way she could have. He’d been a liar from the day he was born, and he was damned good at it.
“Okay,” she said, at last, then lay back down, breaking the moment.
He wasn’t sure when she fell asleep, but he was too wound up to sleep anymore. In his mind, he kept picturing his brother. And when he thought of his brother, he also thought about his betrayal. His mind filled with the sounds and smells of blood and death and war until he was shaking.
That night he drank a ridiculous amount of Wipenhol and passed out.
8
Gannon
Changing into
simple black clothes and fastening a dark cloak around his shoulders, he locked the door of his room and dug out the tan bag beneath his chair, before stuffing it in his shirt. Hurrying through the halls and out the darkened servants’ exit, he kept to the shadows and made it to the main gate where a sleepy guard took one look at his face and let him pass without challenge.
To the right, the road led to the nearby town, to the left, the drop-off. He veered to the left, until he spotted the outline of a man leaning against a Wipendrow Tree.
Rhett.
“Took you long enough,” he barked, when Gannon got close enough.
Stopping in his tracks, Gannon spoke with carefully chosen words. “I think perhaps you’ve forgotten who you’re speaking to.”
Rhett stepped away from the tree. The moon peeked from behind the clouds to slide along the strips of scars dancing along the man’s face and neck. They were the only remarkable things about the man altogether, but it was his ability to blend in that made him such a good assassin. Time and time again, he’d done Gannon’s dirty work, and done so with complete success. True, he wasn’t the brightest, but no one was well skilled at killing quietly.
“You’re right,” he said, shifting nervously. “The night’s just been cold, and I thought you’d be here a hell of a lot sooner is all.”
Gannon accepted his apology, knowing he couldn’t have expected civil manners in someone so poorly bred. “I’ve come to tell you. It’s time.”
“You finally want him dead?”
“Yes and right away.”
The man rubbed at his chin. “All right, but I want to be paid up front.”
Gannon laughed. “Surely you don’t take me for a fool. No, this will be done the same way as always, a small percentage now, the rest later.”
“This isn’t like the other times. Only a fool would take on this job at all, but I’ve met a girl, and that gold will buy us the kind of life she deserves.”
At the mention of his girl, Gannon stiffened. “Does she know anything about this?”
It was Rhett’s turn to laugh. “She knows I’m no farmer, but no, our business is private.”
Gannon nearly sighed with relief. “Well, that’s good at least. But now to the business of this money. If I give you it all now, you have no reason to do the job.”
Rhett rubbed at his chin. “Half now. That’s fair.”
Gannon held back a smile. The man was far too predictable.
Reaching into his shirt, he pulled out the heavy bag, filled with a king’s ransom of gold. “It’s agreed.” But when Rhett took hold of it, Gannon didn’t let go. “But if somewhere in that little mind of yours, you consider, even for a moment, taking this money and running, I want you to know that there’s nowhere I can’t reach you.”
The assassin jerked the string on the bag, and Gannon let it go. “And I want you to know, this’ll be my last job. Once I get all the gold, my days of killin’ are done.”
His word would have to be enough.
“What will you use?”
Rhett pulled out a tiny glass jar. “It’s a special item, bought from a Cahula man.” He shook it gently as he spoke. “I’ll sprinkle it in his food or drink. If he takes it all, he’ll die quickly, within a night. If he drinks just a bit, well, that’ll be a slow, painful death. But either way, it’ll be done.”
“What if he detects it beforehand?”
“Oh no,” the assassin reassured him, shaking his head. “This is powerful stuff. It’s got no taste. Only a little smell of almonds gives it away.”
Gannon frowned. “So it’s detectable?”
“Only if you’re looking for it,” Rhett said, putting the bottle away. “And this is expensive stuff, hard to find, not many folks even know it exists. Yet.”
The man was good at what he did, so Gannon would just have to trust him.
They parted ways with his plans finally set into motion. Gannon had to swallow the happy tune demanding to be whistled as he made his way back to the manor, even when the rain finally unleashed, soaking him almost immediately. Even so, it wasn’t until he was winding his way up the staircase, and nearly smashed into someone coming down, that he tumbled back into reality.
“Watch it!” Finnegan exclaimed.
Gannon gave him a moment to reconsider his words.
“My apologies Lord Cyrus, you startled me.” He took a deep breath and removed his hand from where it clutched at his heart. “I was only looking for my wife.”
“I believe you’ll find her nursing your son in the gardens,” Gannon told him curtly.
To his surprise, Finnegan cursed. “I’ve told that damned woman time and time again—“
“But I must say,” Gannon began, cutting him off, “she rather impressed me. Or should I say, you did.”
Finnegan eyes widened. “How so?”
“You didn’t strike me as a man knowledgeable in the ways of the elite society, but there your wife was, nursing her child. And then I said to myself, Lord Finnegan is a man who knows how to create a loyal son.” He paused, allowing his words to sink in before continuing. “Every man of any worth in Eshire does everything in his power to encourage his wife to follow her instincts with her child. No one knows better than the mother, of course.”
Finnegan drew himself up. “Why of course.”
Playing these prairie fools isn’t even a challenge.
“It’s late,” Gannon said. “Far past time to find my bed.”
He moved to walk past Finnegan, but the man leaned closer to him when they stood on the same step. “Sleep well.” His words held a hidden meaning, and the sweet scent of Wipenhol.
The ignorant man’s comment plagued him until he opened the door to his room and found the minstrel relaxing in one of his chairs by the fire. Brynland hovered over her, his arms crossed over his chest in obvious irritation. But at the sight of Gannon, they both reacted with almost comical speed. Brynland’s frown melted away as he came towards him. The woman rose from the chair, a seductive smile playing across her lips.
“Brynland, take the rest of the night off. Mistress…”
“Jodie.”
Gannon smiled when she so readily offered her name. “Jodie and I shall be quite content alone.”
“But—“ Bryland sputtered a denial.
Gannon raised his hand, silencing him. But as the young man crossed to the door that led to his tiny servant’s quarters, Gannon corrected him, “I think you’d better find another spot. We’ll require some privacy.”
He shot Jodie an expectant look, and she in turn flashed him a sensual smile. But it wasn’t until the door closed on Brynland’s retreating form that Gannon was fully able to enjoy the banquet delivered before him. Large breasts. A tight dress and narrow waist. What more could a man want in his bed?
“Lord Cyrus.” She spoke his name in a breathless way before coming to stand but a hand span in front of him. There, she curtsied slowly, pausing when her mouth came just inches from his arousal. “Pleased to meet your acquaintance.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” he said, aching to reach down and remove all barriers between her mouth and his erection.
She rose, coming to her full height, which barely reached his shoulders. “When I saw you, I just knew we needed to become better acquainted.”
So many times he’d heard of wandering minstrels finding their ways into his wealthy friends’ beds, but never before had he considered it happening to him. These were experienced women. And if his friends spoke truthfully, he’d enjoy a night with her he wouldn’t soon forget.
“Would you care for some wine? I have a full-bodied red one, straight from Eshire.”
“Allow me,” she said, reaching forward to unfasten the broach at his neck. His cloak fell to the ground. “You should get out of your wet clothes.”
For once, Gannon didn’t mind taking instructions from someone else. While she poured their drinks, he stripped down. But at the last moment, he grabbed a grey, silk robe. He tied it loos
ely at his waist, his pulse racing at the thought of how quickly she might remove it.
“Wine?” she offered, handing him a glass.
He took it, but his mind was focused on a hunger of a different sort. “Mistress, I believe you may be a bit overdressed.”
Throwing back her glass, she drank deeply from it, then set it back down beside the wine decanter. With careful movements, she refilled her glass, while he made his way to sit at the edge of the large bed.
“This wine is truly the best I’ve ever had,” she complimented, coming to stand just inches before him.
He took the drink from her hand and set both glasses on the nightstand.
Her eyes darted to them and then to him. “Aren’t you thirsty, my lord?”
“Not one bit,” he murmured, running his eyes over her body, and lingering at his favorite parts.
Pulling back the blankets on the bed, he climbed in, then waited for her to undress and join him. But even though she undressed, she surprised him by not yet joining him in the bed.
“A toast?” she purred, reaching to pick up their wine, and handing him his. “To the rest of the night,” she offered, touching her glass to his.
He smiled and brought the glass to his lips, all the while watching her unblinking gaze. A slight, unexpected aroma separated itself from the rest of the scents. His smile wavered as he lowered his glass.
“I think perhaps I’ll do something to work up a thirst before I drink.” He grabbed both their glasses and set them on the table once more.
“Of course, my lord,” she said, then joined him in the bed.
It’d been too long since he’d had a woman, so he mounted her quickly. Sliding into her, his breathing quickened, and he moved faster and faster. A minute later, he gave into his needs, spilling his seed and collapsing on top of her.
She lay still and silent in bed. He reached over and handed her the wine glass, finally thirsty enough to drink, and grabbed his own. Smelling the rich, earthy scent of the wine, he drank deeply, then watched as she did the same.
That night he kept her in his bed. Waiting for the moment she realized he’d switched the glasses and that the poison she’d intended for him had missed its mark. It wasn’t until nearly dawn when horror filled her expression and weak hands clawed at her throat as the poison slowly closed her airways.
Dragon Memories: A High Fantasy Reverse Harem Romance (Legacy of Blood and Magic Book 2) Page 8