Betrayal and Yearning: A Fantasy Romance (Changeling Desires Series Book 1)

by Eve Redmayne

  Orrin didn’t move. Braum glared as the witch feasted on every exposed inch of Jessica’s body, lingering on the plump, pink nipples that Braum finally managed to cover.

  “We’re leaving,” Orrin choked, the smell of sex thick in the air and turned on his heel.

  Braum pitied Orrin. He must’ve sat there listening to every pleasurable moan and every creak of the bed, unable to do anything but visualize Braum taking Jessica, taking what he ached to have. In fact, the witch probably regretted not killing him back at Willow’s cottage, right about now.

  Naught but a moment later, Willow hurried in. Braum gritted his teeth and thrust his legs into his pants.

  “Well, well,” she grinned lazily and looked him over, “now I see what all the fuss was about.” Her green eyes flicked from him to Jessica, sitting on the bed, blanket clutched to her chest. “Hello, dwarf prince, where’ve you been all my life? I don’t blame Jess here for taking you back.” She ran a red curl over her cheek. “No, don’t blame her one bit.”

  Jessica threw a pillow at her friend and tried to look stern. “He’s mine.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Willow clicked her tongue. “Not one bit.” She winked at Jessica.

  A blush crept over Jessica’s cheeks. “I didn’t realize how much I’d missed him,” she said.

  His eyes grew soft at her words.

  “I guess,” the witch said, “But, from the sound of things, you two made up for lost time. Now seriously, be careful. I don’t trust Wycliffe.”

  “That’s a given,” Braum added.

  “Yes, yes,” Willow agreed. “I don’t know how long we’ll wait before we come back to get you, but long enough that Wycliffe doesn’t suspect you’re involved. So, don’t distress if we’re not here in a couple weeks. Be safe and don’t do anything stupid.” She widened her eyes, making Braum wonder what exactly she meant by that.

  “Love you,” Jessica said and dragged Willow in for a quick hug. “You be safe, too.”

  Willow looked up with a saucy grin. “Don’t you worry, the strongest witch of her generation, traveling with a fellow witch as well as Braum the Merciless. I’m fairly certain nobody’ll mess with me.” She winked and turned her back, letting Braum and Jessica make their goodbyes.

  Braum pulled his wife in for a final kiss. But before their lips touched, his gaze lingered, memorizing her.

  When he finally exited the cell, his eyes dimmed as Willow locked Jessica in. She placed the keys back on the soldier’s belt and strode away. How could he leave her?

  “Come on boys, let’s go,” Willow said.

  CHAPTER 36

  Prepared to argue to the death, Orrin pushed his way through the bramble-filled orchard on the outskirts of Britarre. A fine hiding place to figure out their next step, he thought, if it weren’t for the stubbornness of a certain dwarf.

  Arms crossed over his chest, he watched Braum follow him into the shelter. He ground his teeth against the killing rage pulsing through him, knowing the dwarf would make the perfect victim.

  “We go to Grayweather,” Braum snarled.

  “No, we go to Moonstone.” Orrin bared his teeth, unwilling to negotiate.

  “I can only prepare my men if I’m at Grayweather.”

  “Your men won’t be needed. This is a witch concern.”

  Willow stepped neatly between them, placing a hand on either chest. “Stop it!” She glared at them both then glanced around.

  Barely outside earshot of the castle, they were far too conspicuous for his liking. Willow was right to intervene.

  “Tuck your bulging neck muscles and cocks’ tails away, at least until we’re out of range of their bloody arrows.” Her hair billowed about, growing more voluminous with her ire.

  Orrin turned back to glare daggers at the dwarf, only to find Braum already glaring back. They broke away at the same time and stomped to the horses he and Willow had left, earlier.

  “We go to Grayweather,” she informed them and turned her back on both Orrin’s look of disgust and Braum’s victorious smirk. “Braum’s the one who needs the protection of his people. They don’t know witches are involved.”

  “Let’s keep it that way,” Orrin cut in and gave Braum a withering look as he fell back to take up the rear flank. “You’re right, the dwarves can take responsibility for the idiocy of their crown prince.”

  He’d let the dwarf lead as Braum would know the quickest way to his own home and was best able to see in the dark. A small concession, but still it rankled Orrin to give even an inch where the dwarf was concerned.

  As the crescent moon drifted through the sky, and the woodlands gradually shifted to craggy foothills, Braum navigated them silently over an invisible trail.

  Always keeping an eye behind, Orrin knew their advantage was slim: they had a lead on the elves and were a small group, thus easy to hide, but the elves were there. He didn’t need his witch’s instincts to tell him that, by now, Wycliffe had discovered Braum’s escape.

  With a heel to his horse’s flanks, Orrin overtook Willow and caught up to Braum. “We need to move faster. We’re still in elven territory and can be easily overtaken.”

  “We can’t see,” Braum said, pointing out the obvious, not bothering to look his way.

  “If we don’t speed up, the elves will catch us,” Orrin hissed, careful to keep his voice low. “Either use your dwarven eyesight and speed up, or I’ll take the lead from you.”

  “The hell you will!” Braum squared off his shoulders and eyed the trees. “If we were going to Moonstone, you’d lead, but we’re not. You defer to my judgement, witch. And just because my eyesight is better in the dark than yours, doesn’t mean my horse can see worth shit. One wrong step and he’ll break a leg.”

  “Your judgement’s going to get us killed!” Orrin raged. “Then who’ll look after Jessica?”

  Before Braum could respond, once again, Willow intervened, pushing her black mare’s broad chest between the men’s mounts.

  “Enough already! Jessica will be fine without a man to protect her if we’re taken, I was the one to train her.” She spoke as though her involvement was enough to clear up any questions about Jessica’s abilities. “My concern is to not have my head lopped from its neck. I agree with Orrin,” she ignored Braum’s snort of disgust, “we need to pick up the pace, I can also sense danger approaching.”

  Braum began to protest when Willow raised a hand. “Don’t question that which you don’t understand, dwarf prince. A witch’s sixth sense is mighty indeed, and you have the privilege of two witches looking out for your well-being. Do us a favor, lose the ego.” Then she tucked her cloak tighter about her and fell back.

  “Very well,” Braum agreed and kicked his horse faster. “But when my horse goes lame and I must share on your mounts, you’ll be sorry.”

  When they finally stopped for a brief rest, hours later, everyone was on edge. The breakneck pace through the dark had left them anxious, but their horses needed to catch their breaths.

  Orrin sat before a small fire, warming his hands. Made in the battle-field manner, it smothered the smoke. No elf would spot them. He’d argued for the blaze, as it would help warm them, chilled through as they were.

  His hooded eyes followed Braum, wandering around, seeing to the animals, and criticizing everything Orrin had done. If Willow’s hands were upon the task, fine, but if he’d done it, instantly inferior. And he was goddamned tired of hearing the dwarf’s opinions.

  “Sit down, Prince,” Willow wearily told Braum as he scanned the woods. “Don’t squander your chance to rest and get warm.”

  “You’re right,” he limped closer, “but first I need to check the fire, make sure it isn’t putting out too much smoke.”

  The fire was perfect, and the dwarf bloody-well knew it. Orrin had had enough.

  As Braum walked near, Orrin shifted slightly. He knew he shouldn’t, but couldn’t resist, and swept a leg out, catching Braum’s lame foot. A wicked smile crossed his face as the dwarf cras
hed to the ground. Braum landed heavily, unprepared to catch himself as his attention had been on the fire, and not on Orrin.

  Fury lighting his eyes, Braum snarled, “You did that on purpose!” And hurled himself at Orrin.

  Orrin saw Willow roll her eyes heavenward and heard her whisper a quick plea for wiser companions the next time she journeyed but he didn’t give a damn. He was sick and tired of Braum’s shit and, god, tripping him had felt good, juvenile as it was.

  “You’re right!” Orrin spat, “I did.” He flipped Braum away with a swift maneuver. No dwarf was going to best him at grappling, not at his sport. Orrin jumped onto Braum’s back and caught his neck in a chokehold. “You don’t fucking deserve her!” he ground out, chest pounding.

  Eyes bulging, Braum raised a fist and punched Orrin on the ear, easing his hold just enough for Braum to gasp for a breath and break free.

  “You don’t deserve her!” Orrin shouted again and lunged towards Braum, who managed to duck to the side just in time to avoid the tackle. But the motherfucker lobbed a quick jab to the side of Orrin’s head and threw him momentarily off balance.

  “You’re bloody right I don’t!” Braum wiped away the leaves and dirt sticking to his face. “You think I don’t know that?” He limped towards the horses and ripped a short sword from a saddle. “But there’s no way in hell I’m going to let her go. Luckily for me, she chose me, not you.”

  Orrin ground his teeth. The bastard was right. She’d rejected him more than once.

  Braum taunted Orrin with the sword. “You gave her the opportunity to choose you. So, move on from this pointless battle. It’s over.”

  Orrin saw red. “It’ll never be over,” he bellowed and charged.

  As the men hit the ground, Braum used Orrin’s own momentum against him and flipped him over his head. He grabbed Orrin’s hair, loose about his shoulders, and pressed the sword against his neck. Razor sharp, it drew blood on contact, though Braum applied only slight pressure. His knee dug into Orrin’s ribs and pinned him to the ground. “It’d be so easy to kill you,” he sneered.

  The bastard had cheated, getting the sword, but what else would Orrin expect? “Then do it, you filthy dwarf,” Orrin growled. “But, the truth is I’d never hurt her. I’m nothing like you.”

  Braum removed the blade from Orrin’s neck and stood. “I would’ve gladly killed you but didn’t because of her.” He limped to his horse and sheathed the sword, never taking his eyes from Orrin. “You owe my wife for your worthless life.”

  Orrin blanched at the word wife and Braum noted it. “That’s right, witch, my wife! And there’s nothing you can do to change that.”

  Besides kill you, Orrin wanted to yell. “I’ll concede you won our battle using unfair tactics,” Orrin admitted blackly as he stood and wiped blood from his neck. “I’ll also concede that Jessica’s your wife and that she chose you. But I’ll never relent.”

  Willow snorted, “Men!”

  “I guess that’ll have to do,” Braum agreed, a hint of a smile playing about his lips. “And I did cheat,” he confessed with an almost imperceptible smirk. “But you picked a fight with a cripple, so who’s the lesser man?”

  Willow laughed. “You’re both fools, but Braum, you’re pretty damn adorable when you want to be.”

  ***

  The day was just beginning to dawn as they came upon the river Tympest. Braum knew the natural border between the kingdom of the dwarves and the kingdom of the elves wouldn’t stop the elves from pursuing them, but now they had a small advantage. This was his land. He diverted them from the original trail to what could only be called an animal path, deep in the brush.

  After riding several yards upriver, he pointed the way to a dwarven outpost. They’d head there, instead of Grayweather, for much-needed backup. He pulled sharply on the reins as his horse slipped on the increasingly steep terrain.

  As he navigated their path, Braum reflected on his treatment of Jessica. He’d been a spoiled egomaniac, taking what he wanted without a thought for her. What he wouldn’t do to reverse his actions. He’d always regret forcing Jessica to transition without her knowledge. As proud as he was of his heritage, it wasn’t right to alter someone completely and not give them a hand in the decision.

  A faint sound echoed in the distance, and all three heads turned to scan the dense foliage covering the hillside. Braum swallowed thickly. It was crucial the witches kept their identities a secret else the elves would never release Jessica to them. After several minutes of stilted silence, a twig snapped. “They’re here,” he said.

  Willow jerked her hood over her head and Orrin followed suit. Braum didn’t bother with concealing his identity. The bastards wouldn’t confuse him for another.

  He slipped from his horse and motioned silently for the other two to keep moving. Before slinking into the bushes, he handed his horse’s reigns to Willow.

  Eyes focused, he darted through the trees, searching for any movement to indicate where the scouts hid. The main bulk of the elven force lingered further behind, else he’d have heard them by now. It must only be a small group of scouts.

  A bird called, and he cocked his head. The fools should improve their signals. Whippoorwills didn’t live at this elevation. They were making it too easy. Even lame, he’d punish these men for what their prince had done to his wife. He had no mercy for their kind. Much like the ridiculous name he’d earned during times of war. Braum the Merciless? Hell yes.

  A snowy embankment blocked his path, so he paused in the long shadows cast by the early morning sun and waited. When he heard another birdcall, he adjusted his path and stepped carefully, making no noise. Always aware of his limp, he made certain of each step. His face a mask of silent fury, he pumped his fists to get the blood moving through cold flesh.

  The first scout he came upon stood in the open, looking the wrong direction. Too damn easy. Itching for a fight, he’d show these ugly bastards what happened when you fucked with the wrong dwarf.

  Already smelling blood, he crept the last few feet and pulled his knife from its scabbard. The hiss of cold steel alerted the elf. He turned, only to have his head jerked back. Braum gripped him by the hair and pulled the blade across his throat. Before the dead elf hit the ground, Braum sought his next victim.

  Now he had to move quickly as well as quietly. If someone signaled the man he’d killed, well, dead men didn’t respond. It would alert the others there was a problem. And with his limp hindering his every step… “Dammit,” he breathed.

  Taking a break, he looked skyward before creeping onward.

  As he rounded a large boulder, the second man came into view, lurking inside a patch of scrub oak. Knife balanced between thumb and forefinger, rage built as Braum waited for the man to move and give him a clear shot. These men meant to deprive him of a life with Jessica. They’d all pay.

  When the soldier finally moved to call out, Braum spun from his hiding spot and released the knife. The blade spun through the air, end over end, and sank into the tree trunk, missing its target, the man’s heart.

  The wide-eyed elf looked sideways at the quivering knife, pinning him by his shirt, yanked free, and charged away into the undergrowth.

  Braum cursed silently and pulled another knife from his boot. Fighting the impulse to give chase, he calmed his breathing and waited. When the elf finally ran into a clearing, Braum nodded, and with a surety born of hundreds of hours of target practice aimed and released. This time the knife struck home—between the man’s ears.

  The THUNK of the blade cutting through skull echoed in the dawn hush. The man remained standing for a second, the knife hilt sticking obscenely out of his head, before he sank to the ground. But that was enough, Braum knew, to alert the final scout of his presence.

  As he made his way to the fallen man, Braum heard a frantic birdcall and grinned darkly. With one foot on the dead man’s back for leverage, he pulled his blade free. Not yet ready to leave, he dipped his fingers in the gaping wound and strea
ked two lines of warm blood down one side of his face. Ready for the final kill, he turned to battle like his ancestors had before him—while wearing the blood of an enemy.

  Braum’s scowl set with grim determination as he stalked his prey, cracking the already dried blood. The knife hilt rounded the back of his hand and he caught it deftly in the ready position, unconcerned with walking cautiously. His enemy knew he was coming.

  Muscles ticked in anticipation as he paused at the edge of a ravine and waited. Once branches rustled below, Braum leapt. He landed hard on the elf and brought them both to the ground. After slamming the man’s head into the hard snow, Braum snarled through a crazed smile, and slit the elf’s throat with one smooth motion.

  He sneered down at the body. What kind of training did these fools have?

  Once again, he dipped his fingers in fresh blood, this time smearing it down the other side of his face to display his victory. Even in his weakened state, these men had been no match for him. Chest heaving, arms bulging, and blood racing, he stood. God help anyone who sought to take him from his bride.

  With the adrenaline fading, he limped heavily through the brush towards the outpost, left alone with his thoughts. If he was so damn protective of Jessica, why hadn’t he protected her from himself? She’d told him she’d forgiven him, but no matter how many elves he killed, it wouldn’t change the fact that he, the one who loved her, had done her the most damage.

  Once he caught up with the witches, he tore the reins from Willow’s hands and climbed atop his mount, retaking the lead. They’d not gone far before he paused to concentrate on the unnatural silence that had settled around the forest.

  Before he could utter a warning, figures leapt from the bushes, weapons at the ready, sharp blades glinting wickedly in the morning sun.

  CHAPTER 37

  Braum grinned down at one of the soldiers, the tension easing from his shoulders. “How’s it going, Burly?”

  “Sire!” the huge man sputtered. “What’re you doing here? We’re preparing to go to war with the elves over your capture.” The man’s reaction, blinking and gaping, was almost comical.