by Meara Platt
“No. No!” Ygraine shook her head and then practically tripping over her own feet, ran off.
Cadeyrn slammed his body against the barrier again.
It still wouldn’t budge.
Melody put a calming hand on his shoulder. “Though we can’t change destiny, we must be grateful for what we’ve been allowed to see.”
“Grateful?” He shook his head and let out a mirthless laugh. “What am I to be grateful for? Brihann’s demons have hunted me every night for thousands of years, and now they’re also hunting you. Why should I care to be shown the night it all started? What we’ve seen changes nothing.”
“There must be something important in this moment. Cadeyrn, did anything strike you as unusual?”
Before he could respond, several Fae guardsmen led by their captain entered the hall. “Prince Brihann!” the captain called out, rushing to his side.
“Fiergrin! Good man.” Brihann’s voice was weak and breathing still strained. “I’ve been stabbed by a demon disguised as Ygraine.”
“Princess Ygraine? Do you know where she is? Is she safe?”
“I fear the worst. The demon has killed her and taken over her body. Do not trust your eyes. If you see Ygraine, you must kill her.”
“No!” Melody shouted, wincing as her voice resounded with excruciating sharpness within the tiny expanse of their nook. She clamped her hands to her ears and fell against Cadeyrn, the two of them now watching helplessly as Fiergrin turned to his men and issued brisk orders to find Ygraine. “Track her down but don’t approach her. Summon me. I will deal with her.”
Brihann held out his hand. “Fiergrin, I rely on you to rid us of this evil. Help me to my feet. I shall also join in the search.”
Fiergrin frowned as he helped Brihann to rise. “You are not well. I beg you to rest, for that is the only way to restore yourself to health. Here, let me help you to your quarters.”
“No, I’m fine now. Find this beast and kill it.”
“At once,” Fiergrin said, about to leave Brihann’s side when he noticed something glistening by his foot and, hesitating but a moment, bent to pick it up. “This is your wife’s knife.”
“What more proof do we need that the demon has killed her? She would never have willingly used it against me. Go, Fiergrin.”
Though Fiergrin nodded, he no longer seemed to feel the same sense of urgency as Brihann. This was the Fiergrin that Cadeyrn knew, the Fiergrin who always moved with careful deliberation and did not allow others to push him into making rash decisions. Fiergrin, seemingly lost in thought, tucked the blade into his belt. “Give me a moment, Prince Brihann. Let me heal your wound first, for I see that it is still bleeding.”
Cadeyrn ran a hand gruffly across the nape of his neck, wondering why he and Melody were allowed to see this moment in ancient time yet not permitted to do something about it. Melody had asked if anything struck him as unusual. Nothing had, though he was too angry to think clearly at the moment.
Fiergrin began his incantation.
Melody put a hand on Cadeyrn’s arm. “I’m sorry,” she said softly.
“So am I.”
Within a few verses of the incantation, Brihann appeared fully healed and strong on his feet. “Find His Majesty and warn him,” Brihann said. “I fear he is also in danger.”
Fiergrin shook his head. “Forgive me, but we were too late to save him. This demon now among us has slain him. Our king is dead.”
“My dearest brother! Gone! No, it cannot be!” Brihann let out a persuasive wail of grief, bowing his head and leaning against Fiergrin for support as he attempted to regain his supposedly lost composure. “The fiend must have slipped past your guards disguised as Ygraine. How else could my brother have been approached unaware?”
Fiergrin furrowed his brow, seeming to ponder Brihann’s accusation. “I do not know.”
“It all makes sense now,” Brihann continued in a moaning whisper that was obviously meant to be heard by Fiergrin. “Ygraine has been acting so strangely of late, speaking of … no … I cannot say it.”
“What has she said or done to rouse your suspicion? Are you suggesting she spoke treason against our king? Please, Prince Brihann! You must tell me. The safety of our kingdom is at stake.”
Brihann hesitated a moment before nodding. “Of course, I know I must. No matter how painful it is to me. Ygraine must be the traitor Fae who invited the demon in. It can be no other, for only she, as my wife, had unchallenged access to the king … and to the boy. Cadeyrn! He must be kept safe!”
“We were searching for him when we came upon you.”
“The demon disguised as my Ygraine is hunting for the boy as well. Oh, you must find Cadeyrn and save him! My nephew! Your new king!”
“It will be done,” Fiergrin said, but a frown now marred his face. “Ygraine cannot be the traitor,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “She would never betray the Fae. And why would this demon harm his best connection to the Fae?”
“Until a few moments ago, I would not have believed it possible either. Whatever her reasons for betraying the Fae, they may never be known. As for this demon … well, we all know what these demons are … lesser beings with no thoughts other than to kill and destroy. My Ygraine must have served her purpose. Don’t you understand? Only evil now resides within her body and seeks to do all of us harm. Why would Ygraine attempt to murder me? She loves me, as I love her, most dearly. This being, this creature, cannot be my wife. She would never have raised a hand against me.” He clutched his chest where Ygraine had stabbed him. “I say this with aching despair … you must kill this thing that resembles my wife. Kill it on sight. Don’t try to question it, just destroy it before it destroys all of us. Give me your word, Fiergrin. I must know it will be done.”
Fiergrin patted Ygraine’s knife, now strapped to his belt. “I give you my word, Prince Brihann. I shall destroy the demon.”
A slow, sly smile spread across Brihann’s face. “Good. Report to me when the deed is done. I shall await you in the throne room.”
*
“Cadeyrn, what’s wrong?” Melody turned to him in alarm as he clutched his chest and let out a soft oath.
He reeled backward, his big body striking with a dull thud the rough stone wall of the nook in which they were still trapped. “I don’t know. I felt a jab. Right here.” He pointed to his chest. “As though someone has just taken a slice out of my heart.”
Melody recognized the feeling, for the same thing had happened to her when attempting to heal Ygraine. It seemed eons ago; so much had happened in the short time since she’d met Cadeyrn and been introduced to his Fae subjects. “Oh, dear! Sit down.”
She tried to guide him onto a small bench, the only item of furniture within the nook. “Let me try to heal you.”
He swallowed her hands in his strong but gentle grasp. “No. Don’t interfere. I think I’ll survive this incident without harm.”
Melody bit her lip, now worried. “How can you be sure?”
“The night we coupled, did you see a mark on my chest?”
A flush rose in her cheeks as the hot memory of their entwined bodies rushed to the fore, of his hard, lean body so warm against her skin and his lips searing a hot trail of kisses down her neck and along her breasts, of his hard member pulsing against her slick thighs. She had been too lost in mindless passion to notice anything but the wondrous sensations that crashed in powerful waves over her body and sent her soaring to exquisite heights. “No.”
He ran his thumb lightly across one of her blushing cheeks. “See, you didn’t find a scar there and you were as thorough in exploring my body as I was in exploring yours. This pain of mine will pass.”
She hadn’t been thorough, just utterly swept away. She remembered examining him after the battle with the demons in the vicarage and not seeing a scar then, either. But this was hardly the moment to discuss it. Cadeyrn was hurt and they were trapped in an ancient time, perhaps trapped here forever. “But what
does it mean?”
“I don’t know. It must be connected to the Prophecy.”
She shook her head and sighed. “A good connection or a bad?”
“I don’t know that either,” he said, suddenly tensing. “Look, Ygraine is returning.”
Melody quickly turned back to the empty hall that housed the imposing Stone of Draloch. “Why is it so dark in here?”
“Night has fallen. The stone must have moved us slightly forward in time, only you were too busy running your hands along my rugged body to notice,” he said with an arch grin that did little to mask his concern.
“I was trying to heal you,” Melody retorted, though she wasn’t really indignant. Things were happening over which they had no control, each scene as it unfolded leading them closer to her fatal confrontation with Lord Brihann.
“I know,” he said with aching tenderness. “I like it when you touch my body … almost as much as you like it when I touch yours.”
She laughed despite her distress. What a mess they were in! “Honestly, Cadeyrn! Almost as much? You seem to be thinking about it a lot more than I am. Perhaps you like me more than I like you. Did you ever think of that?”
His gaze turned even more tender. “Often.”
She was about to melt in his arms when he suddenly tensed again. “I think Ygraine is meeting someone here.”
“Who?”
“Fiergrin, I hope.”
“Why him?”
“Because he knows Brihann is a liar. Now hush, let me hear what’s about to happen.”
Melody gasped. “How can Fiergrin know that Brihann lied to him? I thought Brihann’s performance was most convincing. Talk to me, Cadeyrn. You see that nothing’s happening yet. Don’t leave me in this confusion.”
“Very well. Brihann’s performance was adequate, for the most part. But he gave himself away when he commanded Fiergrin to find the boy … me. Do you recall his exact words?”
“No, he merely seemed distraught and insisted that Fiergrin save you. What did you see wrong with that?”
“His precise words were to find Cadeyrn and save him. My nephew. Your new king.”
“I still don’t see his mistake.”
“Your new king. He didn’t say our new king. By his words, he disclaimed his allegiance to me and Fiergrin noticed it at once.”
Melody’s eyes widened in surprise. “But he gave Brihann his oath to slay Ygraine. Wait! He didn’t! His precise words were that he’d slay the demon.”
“He knows it isn’t Ygraine who is the Fae traitor. He now suspects Brihann.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, gaping at Cadeyrn. “Fiergrin said nothing, showed nothing of his suspicions.”
“Why should he? He wanted Brihann out of the way, sitting in the throne room and believing his deception had worked. If, as Brihann claimed, Ygraine did not yet have me safely hidden away, then Fiergrin needed to give her time to do it before he confronted Brihann.”
Melody smiled. “His plan succeeded since you’re very much alive. I’m going to give Fiergrin a big hug when we get back to our present day.”
Cadeyrn grinned back at her, a boyishly lopsided grin that sent more waves of heat flooding through her body. “Save one of those for me,” he teased, but his expression remained serious, “for I’ve grown used to them … and you. I rather like those hugs.”
“Oh? Just the hugs?”
He leaned forward and gave her a soft kiss on the lips. “I rather like you, too. Now be quiet. Let me hear what Fiergrin and Ygraine have to say to each other.”
Chapter Thirteen
Melody did not hear the rest of Fiergrin and Ygraine’s discussion—at least, she didn’t think so—and never learned where they had hidden the infant Cadeyrn. Nor did she know how she’d come to wake up in Cadeyrn’s bed in what appeared to be the present time.
She sat up and glanced around.
“Good, you’re awake,” Cadeyrn said, stepping out of the shadows of his dimly lit chamber to sit on the bed beside her. The mattress groaned under the weight of his body, causing her to slide a little closer to him, not that she minded in the least.
They were alone. She was fully clothed and so was he, which meant they had not coupled again. Not yet, anyway. “What happened? How did we get back here? How did Fiergrin and Ygraine keep you safe? Where did Ygraine hide you? How long have I been asleep?”
Cadeyrn let out a soft, rumbling laugh. “Take a breath, Melody. I’ll answer all of your questions if you’ll give me the chance.”
She sank back against her pillows with a sigh. “I don’t recall anything after Fiergrin and Ygraine started to talk to each other.”
The admission seemed to surprise him. “Are you sure?”
The slight nod of her head shot pain into her temples. “Oh,” she said with a groan, “it must have been a rough trip back.”
“It was, for you.” He touched a finger to each temple, instantly relieving her discomfort.
She closed her eyes. “Mmm, feels good.”
“And how does this feel?” He lowered his lips to hers, pressing their warm thickness against her slightly parted mouth with a soft, but unmistakable, urgency.
“Even better.”
“And this?” He kissed her again, this time raising her off the pillows to draw her into his arms.
“Best of all,” she said in a satisfied whisper and rested her cheek against his chest, only to find the beat of his heart calm while hers was hopping and leaping about like a rabbit playing in a patch of carrots.
She fought off her disappointment. “I don’t understand why I’m never scared when you’re beside me. I’m still not certain whether any of this is real or just a dream. How is it possible that we went back in time? Or that dragons exist? Or that you exist? I’m so glad that you do, even if you don’t really, because everyone ought to have someone who makes them feel as wonderful as you make me feel. I’m rambling again,” she said with a small laugh.
“You’ve earned the right. Traveling through time is no small feat.”
“There’s a whirlwind of confusion stirring inside of me. What I mean to say, and I don’t know if I can say this right, is that logically I should be scared of you and running as far away from you as possible.”
“No, Melody. You mustn’t ever fear me.”
“I know you don’t mean to harm me, but you’re leading me closer to death,” she said, drawing away to study his face. “Yet every part of me wants to run to you, as though you’re my safe harbor in a storm, which makes no sense. The saddest part is that I don’t know if you truly like me or are just saying so because you think it will advance your purpose. Do you, Cadeyrn? Do you like me in the least little bit?”
He said nothing for a long moment, his eyes as clear and cool as a mountain lake, not a ripple of turmoil stirring beneath their glassy stillness.
“Do you, Cadeyrn? Or is my only purpose to be served up as dragon fodder?”
A glint that resembled human anger sprang into his eyes, lasting no more than the blink of an eye. If the Fae could feel anger, this expression would be it, Melody realized, and silently chided herself for pushing him to it. He’d sworn to protect her and that had to mean something. He wasn’t going to let her die.
“Melody,” he said with a wrenching ache that tore from his throat, that one word revealing the extent of his anguished craving for her. He crushed her up against him and kissed her with a deep, possessive longing that stole her breath away.
“Yes, I like you,” he admitted in a hoarse, raw whisper as she arched into him, her body holding nothing back in response to his touch. His hand slipped over a breast, cupping it and slowly running his thumb over the sensitive nipple until she was as much in agony as he appeared to be.
Mother in heaven! She had no intention of denying him, for he could not possibly want her as desperately as she wanted him. And he did want her—she’d heard it in the ache of her name, no matter that he didn’t understand human feeling or how to express
those feelings in elegant words.
Something profoundly deep had happened between them on that long journey back in time and on their return to the present—a return she couldn’t remember though her heart certainly did. Its connection to Cadeyrn was stronger than ever, for they were no longer bound by mere days but by a span of five thousand years.
She knew her heart would always recognize his, no matter where or when they were in time. The realization ought to have made her happy, but instead, she was filled with a sudden dread that this would be their last moment together. Did he sense it, too? Perhaps he knew it for a certainty.
The Stone of Draloch. They were its prisoners, buffeted through time at its whim, forced to see bits and pieces, made to forget whatever it did not wish to reveal. Why couldn’t she recall anything after Fiergrin and Ygraine had started to talk?
What had Cadeyrn seen that she hadn’t?
He would tell her in time. She had to trust him … she did trust him. Putting her arms around his neck, she drew him closer to signal her acceptance of what she hoped would be their second coupling. They would talk later, not now, and though her mind wanted answers, her body needed him and there wasn’t a moment to lose.
Her hands shook as she strained to remove his sword and belt, her fingers stiff and fumbling so that Cadeyrn had to help her finish the task. He also helped her shove off his shirt. The breath caught in her throat at the sight of his broad shoulders and sleek, muscled chest. She touched a finger to the light dusting of dark hair across his chest. No scar. No sign that his heart had ever been injured, but it had been, and though the scar was not visible, it was there.
“My turn,” he murmured, deftly removing her gown and undergarments, and smiling as he studied her naked body. He cast her a seductive smile, made more seductive by the gleaming warmth in his usually icy blue eyes. His smile broadened as he assessed her every curve, the swell of her breasts, the unruly curls of her hair as they cascaded over her shoulders and down her back.
He quickly removed his boots and the last of his clothing, and then settled once more on the bed, dragging her under him with a hungry, sensual growl that warned their coupling was to be hot and delightfully unrestrained. Good. She didn’t want him to hold back, nor would she hold back … not that she’d ever been able to temper her responses to his fiery kisses.