by Tj Shaw
“Will you be my wife and queen for the entire world to witness?”
Her heart thumped two full beats then stopped altogether. A ringing in her ears made it difficult to concentrate.
Marek bent his head and whispered, “Carina, my love. Will you marry me?”
Chills ran down her body. “You want me to be your queen?”
His eyes sparkled. “No. I want you to be my wife first, then my queen.”
She shook her head, trying to clear her mind from an onslaught of emotion. She wanted nothing more, but wavered.
“Now, see here—” King McKay choked on his words when Damon’s blade appeared at his throat.
“What about Nareen?” she blurted.
A soft smile crinkled his eyes. “I’ll talk to mother. She’s not happy here. I should’ve released her years ago so she could go home.”
Uncontrollable tremors racked her body. Fairytales didn’t come true. She must be sleeping, lost in a wonderful dream. She opened her mouth then snapped it shut. Somewhere along her journey she’d given herself to this man. Everything she had to offer was his to take.
Worry deepened the lines around his eyes and his smile disappeared. Did she cause his concern? She didn’t want to be the reason for his discomfort. He’d rescued her from a life of solitude and loneliness. This man standing before her was her savior, her world. Her lips curved into a small smile at the thought of becoming his wife.
Marek growled, and rested his forehead against hers. “Woman, you drive me crazy. Answer me.”
She cupped his cheek with her hand. “Aye, Marek Duncan. I’ll marry you.”
Marek’s grin lit up his entire face. He gathered her in his arms and swung her around, laughing. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and although tears played at the corners of her eyes, laughed with him. Before he stopped their wild spinning, his lips ravished her mouth, everyone in the room forgotten. When her wobbly legs touched the ground, only his embrace kept her from falling.
The hair on the back of her neck rose, warning her of the eyes stabbing into her back like twin blades. She turned to confront the man she would’ve loved as a father if only he could have offered her a tiny place in his heart.
Regin looked like a volcano about to spew fire. His white-knuckled fists trembled at his sides, and his lips were compressed into such a thin line, they were almost nonexistent. She used to shrivel at her father’s aggressive posture, but now she kept her head high and her back stiff. She would never cower from this man again.
Marek’s voice rumbled through her, a soothing presence standing at her back with his hands resting on her shoulders in a possessive display.
“King McKay, you no longer have authority over Carina. She’s to become my wife and queen. And Villar, neighboring alliances will aid a king whose queen has been threatened.”
Villar spoke with a calm assuredness. “But only if the union has been blessed by the father of the betrothed. And I doubt Regin intends to give his permission.”
Carina lifted her chin. The words burned in the back of her throat, hot and eager to escape her lips. Her eyes raked over everyone in the room, demanding their attention. “Regin McKay isn’t my father,” she announced with a confidence that shattered the hushed silence.
Marissa gasped and flung her hand to her chest. Her bottom lip trembled as she looked at Regin, anticipating his response. Carina didn’t know if fear or excitement spurred her half sister’s reaction.
The color drained from Regin’s face. “How dare you make such an accusation,” he stammered. “I should lay a strap to your back for your insolence.”
The rumble building in Marek’s chest reverberated through her body as the snarl escaped his mouth. She turned to restrain him, but Caden stepped in front of them before she could act. Caden raised the hilt of his blade partially out of the scabbard to expose the top half of the glimmering weapon. Carina had never seen such malice etched across the mild-mannered warrior’s face.
“You will not speak to the daughter of Alaine Springborn in such a manner if you wish to keep your tongue attached inside your mouth.”
Regin’s jowls jiggled as he shook his head. “What in bloody Haden are you talking about?”
Marek’s deep throated laugh burbled through his body and echoed across the room. “You’re such a fool, Regin. You had the Caller under your nose for twenty-two years and never knew it.”
King Remy edged forward, his black eyes shiny. “The Caller,” he whispered.
Villar’s closeness oozed across Carina’s senses like a thick, slow-moving sludge. She resisted the urge to shrink away as her skin pebbled from a sudden chill.
Regin looked ill. A green tinge rimmed his mouth. His eyes were glazed and a noticeable wheeze accompanied his breathing. “But she’s the daughter of a servant,” he mumbled.
Metal clearing leather whooshed through the air a moment before Caden’s blade caught the fading light spilling in from the windows. “She’s a full blood royal princess of the Tiwan Tribe, and you’ll show her respect.”
Regin stared at Carina in disbelief. Carina supposed she should have felt vindicated in some way after all the years vying for his attention and love. But pity encircled her heart for the aged man standing before her, and for wonderful memories that could have been, but never would be.
Marek called to Damon and Caden. Both men approached. Caden’s sword glistened in the light while Damon’s fingers encircled the hilt of his blade. “Ensure they are well beyond my border before you return.”
“Aye, Sire.” They answered in unison.
Regin shuffled toward the door. Carina expected him to say something, but he ignored her. A shiver slithered down her spine when Villar’s eyes skimmed over her as he passed by. Marissa, never one to leave a room without speaking, broke the stillness.
“You always were a foolish girl.”
“I’m sorry your life didn’t turn out the way you wanted,” Carina murmured. She hadn’t meant for her remark to cause such a reaction, but Marissa’s face paled and Villar’s eyes darkened like a rising storm.
After the room emptied, Marek enfolded her in his arms and pulled her into his chest. She tipped her face against his shoulder and nuzzled underneath his chin. His strong heartbeat thrummed in her ear as she reached up to caress the back of his neck.
“Marek?”
“Aye, luv.”
She smiled at his endearment. “Do you think they’ll declare war against you?”
“Against us,” he corrected. “Threatening to go to war is very different from starting one. But if they do, we’ll be ready.”
Together they stared out the window and watched the sun disappear below the horizon.
44 – CALL of the MATRIARCH
Carina stood with a foot propped on the bottom fence post, looking across a large pasture. Grazing ovine dotted the grassy landscape. Occasional bleats from a young kid who had strayed too far from its mother pierced the silence while the older animals settled down for the night.
With the constant arrival of unbonded Critons, Marek had started stocking his pastures again. But she barely noticed the ovine dotting the field like white powder-puffs. The beautiful sunset with its brilliant colors streaming through the sky captured her attention, like an artist had thrown his watercolors across the canvas, blurring the vibrant hues into a once in a lifetime creation. The breathtaking view bathed her in peace.
The day had been stressful at Stirrlan. Nareen had departed with her court. During their farewells when Carina had curtsied and wished Nareen a blessed day, the queen mother had returned the curtsy. Carina smiled. Maybe she could salvage their relationship after all.
A cooling breeze blew across her face, sweeping the hair off her neck and rustling the pasture grass in an undulating sea of motion. She hadn’t been sleeping well. And now with the flurry of Nareen’s departure over, she hoped to get more rest. But a growing unease dampened her optimism. The dreams were back. Only this time, except for a fleeti
ng impression of someone calling to her and of time running out, she couldn’t remember them.
Caden had told her that Naya communicated through dreams. According to Caden, she had to answer Naya’s call by traveling to Crios to be welcomed as the next Caller of Light. But life had been so hectic for Marek, she’d downplayed her lack of sleep to avoid burdening him. She yawned and closed her eyes.
The sound of gravel crunching from behind forewarned of someone approaching. She knew whose boots those footsteps belonged to, and anticipated his touch. To her satisfaction, muscular arms wrapped around her and she leaned into the steel wall of his chest. Resting her foot against his shin, she reached behind her to stroke his cheek. His mouth traveled along her neck, spurring tingling shivers to splinter and spiral throughout her body.
“You’re still not sleeping?”
She frowned. He must’ve seen her traitorous yawn. “No,” she admitted.
Marek sighed, and turned her so she faced him. His hands framed her cheeks while his probing eyes searched. She tried to glance away, but he held her. An eyebrow arched upward. “Naya?”
“I don’t know.” Wrapping an arm around his waist, she pressed into his chest. Her other arm traced up his back and gripped his shoulder. She inhaled his smell—a combination of leather and Criton—deep into her lungs. His arms tightened, locking her against his body. She clutched the back of his shirt, feeling safe and loved.
“I’ll talk to Caden so we can plan our journey. Caden assures me that I can enter Crios since we’re bonded.” He kissed the top of her head. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t let you go.”
She leaned back to stare into his eyes. Those curious, sparkling flecks floated amid two endless, emerald pools. She loved his eyes the best. Although—with a blush she knew he noticed—she loved other parts of him as well. But his eyes held her, encouraged her, gave her strength; and most of all, displayed his love for her. Although afraid of traveling through the Realm of Light into Crios, she wouldn’t be alone. And if her father did declare war, they’d brave the fight together.
With a sudden gasp, her thoughts scattered as Marek’s lips roving down her neck made it impossible to think. She shuddered at his touch. Yes, she definitely loved more than just his eyes.
His strong arms swept her off her feet and carried her toward Stirrlan, the castle she now called home. She dug her fingers into his hair and surrendered her heart, mind, and soul to the man who had taught her not only how to live, but how to love…and be loved.
A word about the author…
TJ grew up with the Robinsons and a robot who said “danger” a lot after her spaceship crashed on a distant planet. When the Enterprise rescued her, she quickly promoted to the captain’s chair. But an unfortunate transporter glitch beamed her back to the days of Camelot where she rode with Sir Lancelot, and graciously accepted Excalibur from the Lady of the Lake. While tutoring with Merlin, a misspoken spell plunged her deep into the center of the earth, aligning her with Will and Holly in a valiant fight against the Sleestak.
Always a dreamer, TJ would relive her fantasies during the day and expand the scenes in her mind until she’d write them down. After five completed stories, she wondered if others might want to read her adventures. So, she exposed Caller of Light to the eyes of unknown readers. To her surprise, it placed (and won) in several competitions.
TJ hopes you enjoyed Caller of Light. She wonders if you had the courage to fly the air currents on Critonback, and whether the color of your bonded Criton is as vibrant as you had hoped.
Until the next adventure, as your imagination conjures up the dreams within you, she wishes you a safe journey. Because if you believe, traveling to far off galaxies, swimming with mermen, and falling in love with aliens can be one helluva unforgettable ride.
[email protected]; www.TjShaw.com
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