The Golden Key Chronicles
Page 20
Her head swam as possibilities of what this night might entail blossomed in the forefront of her mind. Other than that soul-shattering kiss they had shared on the verandah, their only other physical contact consisted of swordplay. Maybe she should threaten him with a silver spike. Get them back on common ground and then decide what came next.
“What’s this?” He extended his long legs, ankles crossed, one arm settling along the log at her back, the other reaching for the scroll in her lap. A delightful shiver skittered down her spine when the back of his hand brushed the top of her thigh.
As he skimmed the parchment, a deep rut formed between his brows. She held a breath and waited, her heartbeat a resonating whir in her ears. Would he insist she return to the castle? Leave off finding the key and forfeit her quest to someone he deemed more suitable for the task?
Her brows shot up when he tossed the scroll aside and helped himself to another swallow of Fandorn’s brew. When he offered her the drink, she slowly shook her head, eyes riveted to his motions as he stopped the opening and set the flask near his leg.
He wasn’t going to fight her? He truly meant what he had said about never locking her in a cage?
Gratitude crescendoed in her heart, quickly chased by another wave of searing arousal. Her core pulsed and her thighs instinctively clenched. He couldn’t possibly have any idea how much his understanding meant to her. A simple flick of his wrist and everything she longed for was easily granted.
He scooted lower and braced his shoulders against the log, his dark gaze aimed at the star-studded sky and his arm falling to rest along the back of her hips. “You have nothing to fear from me, my lady. Denmar informed me of the torment you endured under Braedric’s low-handed pursuit. I shall not press you to take action you deem unsavory.”
Shock dropped her jaw, and she quickly snapped it shut. Visions of Braedric screamed unbidden into her mind—the disgusting way he’d licked her cheek, the sour wine on his breath, one of his clammy hands squeezing and pinching her inner thigh as the other tightened around her throat. “You know about that?”
“Yes.” One shrewd eyebrow spiked toward Caedmon’s hairline. “And you have my solemn vow. At the first opportunity, I shall run the bastard through to the hilt of my sword.”
Astonishment blurted through her lips and she quickly rolled them together to stifle a laugh. For months after the reigning Prince’s attack, she’d envisioned enacting the exact same revenge, especially each morning when she’d tied a thick ribbon around her neck to hide the bruises. But get real. No one besides a masochist would engage in such a foolhardy plan. Still, the idea of a strong, handsome prince risking a trip to the chopping block to protect her virtue did have a nice ring to it.
Caedmon’s smile spread slow and lazy, a devilish spark of firelight reflected in his dark eyes, and a quiet moment passed before their low chuckles mingled beneath the pop and sizzle of the fire.
“Yeah, well, you’ll have to get in line.” She bounced her back off the log to reach for the nearest blanket and, when she tossed it around her shoulders, Caedmon stretched along the length of her bedroll and patted the empty spot at his side. Her heart leapt into her throat and she narrowed her eyes in suspicion. He expected them to sleep together? Just sleep? “I thought you said no action I deem unsavory.”
“I also said you have nothing to fear.” He inched toward the log a bit more and patted her bedroll a second time. “Come. You rode like the wind all night and day. A sound rest will do us both well.”
She studied him in the darkness. Sound rest, her ass. How would she ever relax with Mr. Tall, Dark and Sexy cozying up to her all night?
She chewed the inside of her cheek. The only other option was to claim a spot on the opposite side of the fire, but chances were good she’d spend the night wide awake there too, worrying whether or not her rejection had hurt him. She didn’t want that. Not after he’d been so kind to her.
Her thoughts raced as she stared at the blankets. Could she trust him? Hell, could she trust herself?
After shifting around, she reclined to the ground, clutching the blanket to her chest, her shoulders high and tight, the gap between their bodies both too narrow and obnoxiously wide. Gravel bit into her scalp through the bedroll. Her neck lay wrenched at an awkward angle.
Forget sleep. In this position, she’d be lucky if she survived the night.
Caedmon rose on one elbow and she sharply inhaled, squeezing her eyes closed. Oh shit, what if he was preparing to kiss her? Hopefully he would…or not. Definitely not. “You pose as if resting on a funeral pyre. This position cannot be comfortable.”
She peeked at him with one eye. “I’m fine.” Like hell.
A low chuckle rumbled in his chest and he shook his head. “Nonsense.” He tugged her closer until she lifted her head and rested it on his shoulder. One thickly muscled arm wrapped around her back, his hand cupping her elbow. “There. Better?”
His body heat penetrated his shirt and she shivered inside its warmth, the beat of his heart a steady soothing rhythm in her ear. His masculine scent bathed her senses, green earth and a high mountain breeze mixed with the heady musk of his skin.
Much better. Much, much better. “Yes, thank you.”
She slid a hand under her chin, palm down, the arc of his chest a perfect match to the inside of her hand. Their bodies fitted together like two pieces of a puzzle—the shallow indent above his pecs the ideal cradle for her cheek, the curve of her hip seated just right along the narrow taper of his waist. The tip of his thumb began a gentle caress, trailing up and down her arm. He settled his other hand behind his head and a wide yawn cracked his jaw.
Her anxiety gradually eased, each breath deepening toward the next. Based on his steady reassurances, he wasn’t going to press her. No matter how ardent his enthusiasm, he was prepared to wait until she was ready. Appreciation warmed her heart, and she cuddled a bit closer against him.
A glistening panorama of infinite beauty adorned the sky. Wisps of white clouds drifted before a sea of shimmering pinpricks of light. “Look at all those stars,” she whispered.
“Helios’ diamond offerings.”
Frowning, she lifted her head. What in the world was he talking about? “Excuse me?”
He searched her face a moment before a gentle smile lifted one corner of his lips. “When the land was young, long before kings held thrones or beasts foraged the woods…” He slipped the leather tie from the tail of her braid and gently unwound the tight weave. “Helios reigned the heavens, his radiant light all-seeing, his strength far-reaching.”
Thick, blunt-tipped fingers speared through the sensitive hair at her nape. She shuddered and her eyes fluttered closed, her scalp tingling when he combed his hand through to the tips of her hair. Her nipples hardened against her chest plate. A spasm quivered low, grasping and aching for a sweet invasion.
“Yet the sun god was lonely. So he called upon his mighty power, and from the air he breathed to life nine goddesses to inhabit his realm.” A second thrust of his hand through her hair and her insides liquefied. He clenched his fingers, massaging her neck. She tightened her jaw. A muted buzz throbbed in her ears as a thrill washed cool and sleek down to the arches of her feet.
“In their infancy, the goddesses were frivolous, prone to mischief and folly, and Helios soon determined none of them posed a good match for an ancient being such as he.”
A slight tug as his splayed fingers raked through to the ends, and her hair tumbled and feathered along her back. Her reasons for denying him blurred and weakened. Much more of his tender ministrations, and anything he asked she would freely give.
“An unforgiving god, Helios grew frustrated by his daughters’ constant pranks, and cast them from his side into darkness, dividing them for all eternity.” Caedmon extended his arm and pointed skyward. “There is Cassiel, goddess of the harvest.”
Rowena twisted her shoulders, a hand pressed to his chest as she squinted at the small cluster of stars in the shape of a si
ckle. She turned back to him with a smile. Never in her wildest dreams would she have guessed this seasoned warrior could spin such an enchanting bedtime story. “And so?”
His eyes softened near the corners, as if he recalled a time he’d once told her such fables before. And perhaps he had.
A warm hand pressed between her shoulder blades and he urged her cheek to back his chest. “Over time, the great sky god regretted his impatience, and sought out his daughters in repentance.” His voice softened to a low murmur, vibrating against her cheek. All the worries she’d carried swirled into nonexistence and she lost herself within the gentle rhythm of his tale. “Helios chased after the night, growing ever closer, but his bright rays always alerted the nine to his presence, and his daughters fled from their father in fear.”
“Oh, that’s so sad.”
“Yes, but my tale has a happy ending. You must be patient.” A pair of supple lips pressed a kiss to the top of her forehead. She grinned and wrapped an arm around his waist, twining one of her legs through his. “The beautiful moon goddess Selene was aware of the rift between the mighty king and his daughters, for when he cast them out she had welcomed the nine into her realm, vowing to keep them sheltered from harm.”
“Uh huh, that’s because women are smarter than men.”
“Stop interrupting.” He smacked her bottom and she jumped, jerking her head up. One dark eyebrow rose and he tsked three times, his palm rubbing the slight sting in her right butt cheek. “Be a good girl or I shall demand recompense for my tale other than a simple cozy by the fire.”
She narrowed her eyes at him even as excitement tightened her stomach. Her breath caught as she imagined all the titillating ways he might exact such a reward, and the eagerness with which she would strive to fulfill his every request. “Finish the story.”
Lips pursed against a rebellious smirk, she replaced her cheek to his chest. Evidently the man harbored quite the playful side, as well.
“The heart of the moon goddess grew heavy with sorrow, so she took it upon herself to visit Helios, intent to mend the schism between father and nine daughters. The moment she broke the horizon, he became enraptured by her beauty and blazed bright. With rays flaming, he raced across the sky, aimed for the goddess, for he knew, at last, he had found his true love.”
Her cheeks lifted in a delighted grin. His story exactly mirrored the two of them, the way he’d chased after her during his homecoming celebration. She sighed. How like Helios and Selene they had been that night. “I love this story.”
Caedmon’s soft chuckle created the perfect bass undertone to the beat of his heart. His hand swept the length of her side and her eyelids fluttered closed when he squeezed her shoulder. “Mistaking his passion for rage, Selene grew frightened by his scorching advance, for she had not the occasion to meet so radiant a being, and fled in terror back to her throne.
“The sun god chased after her but, no matter his speed, the moon goddess evaded capture, gathering the night near. In desperate search of refuge, she hid her face behind the veil of her ebony cloak.”
A new moon. He was describing a new moon, the reason for its disappearance. Or perhaps, he was describing her. She bit her bottom lip and hugged him tighter still.
“Helios grieved for the pale goddess’ return. Forever lost to him was the splendor of his utmost love. In a fit of despair and self-loathing, he rent pieces of his being and flung them from far from view.
“Yet with his sacrifice, hope sparked anew. For when the glittering flames appeared in Selene’s realm, she risked a peek outside her dark shroud.”
Rowena rolled her head to the side. She blinked up at the night sky and, for the first time, imagined the glowing crescent of the waxing moon as a frightened goddess, peering out from behind an inky curtain, on the lookout for the fiery god who so ardently pursued her. Another roll of her head and she pressed her lips to the soft fabric of Caedmon’s shirt, breathing the clean scent of him deep into her lungs. Thank the nine he hadn’t given up on her. If not for his persistence, she’d be alone now, cold and alone. Fighting the same desolation she’d lived since the day he’d been wrenched from her arms.
“The eldest of the nine recognized Selene’s curiosity. So driven by love and the chance to earn her father’s favor, Fortuna perched on the cusp of both realms, awaiting the moment she could ensnare the sun god’s attention and convey the rending of his spirit had not been in vain.”
Yes, yes, she’d seen that star. The one hovering on the horizon right before nightfall.
“Helios’ desires flared and burned hot when he learned all was not lost, so he tore out his white heart, split the chambers in his fierce fist and tossed the embers toward his love, night after night, until his diamond offerings lay scattered at her feet, lighting all the dark corners of her realm.”
A tear crept past her lashes and she held a breath against the aching sorrow building in her throat. How much of this story was legend, and how much embodied the man in her arms? The similarities were too many to count.
“With each evening, as more and more stars appeared, Selene crept farther and farther from her hiding spot, until at last she stood, round and full, in awe of her sun god’s devotion.
“When next she broke the horizon, Helios remained centered, waiting, having learned patience should his love be quick to flee. As she slowly approached, her white pale to his fiery glow, they were joined as one and a vibrant brilliance bathed the land from sea to sea. Life sprang forth and prospered, abundance was made free. And from this, their eternal love, man was born.”
Rowena hitched a breath and held tight to his waist. Caedmon offered her that same patience even now. Even when she didn’t deserve it.
“Witnessing the divine proof of their union, the god and goddess rejoiced. Selene eventually made to depart back to her throne, though she vowed to return, as she has throughout the ages, so the two of them can be reunited and all creatures may bask in their love.”
“Oh, Caedmon.” Rowena sniffed and wiped another bloated tear from her cheek. “That’s beautiful.”
“Shhh, my love,” he whispered, rubbing her shoulder. “Sleep, now. You are safe. We have finally come home to one another’s arms.”
Chapter Three
A shiver jerked her awake. Rowena clutched the blanket around her body, fists curled in a tight ball under her chin. Her shoulder and hip ached as if shards of glass had leeched from the ground and settled into her joints. Another bone-wrenching shiver and she clenched her chattering teeth. Cold…so cold…
Past the lacy shadows of her lashes, the fire had died to a pile of gray ash. Tendrils of thick fog snaked through the nearby trees, carpeting the small clearing in a clandestine blanket of white silence. High on a nearby branch rested the shadow of a large falcon, his head tucked beneath the feathers of one wing.
She rolled to her other side and the undulating heat of a sun-baked sand dune kissed her cheeks, emanating from a body of lean muscle wrapped in honey-gold skin.
Caedmon lay on his back, deep breaths spilling from his slightly parted lips, ebony hair a curtain of night caressing his shoulders.
Pressing her lips together to contain a smile, she eased closer and gently tugged his shirt tails from the front of his leather pants. She snuck her hand inside and he flinched when she placed her icy palm on his warm stomach. A low chuckle tickled the back of her throat. It was an evil way to wake him, but she wasn’t sorry in the slightest. After the tender way he’d cared for her last night, his presence called to her a level much deeper than mere body heat could provide.
“Sweet tits, you’re chilled to the bone,” he murmured, enveloping her in his arms and bringing her flush to his side.
A moment later his heavy breathing resumed, the hand at her waist went slack. She glanced around the hushed forest and raised a devious brow. A girl had to wonder. Would the rest of his body afford the same pleasure she’d found in his arms last night? Would it be as endowed as the blunt-tipped fingers he�
�d thrust through her hair? The opportunity for discovery was too tempting to resist.
The downy hair near his waistband gave way to a smooth expanse of sultry skin as she glided her palm higher, exploring the landscape of grooved muscle in his chest and abs. Over one thickly toned pec and she cupped the curve of his shoulder, trailed her fingertips along his collarbone to the shallow dip in the base of his throat. His pulse vibrated through the thin skin and the hair on her nape tingled in anticipation. A heady pulse of arousal heated and moistened the inner folds between her thighs.
A slow journey with her fingertips along his other collar bone and she continued her languid perusal, lightly dragging her nails down to the sweet circle of his left nipple.
Beneath the pad of her index finger, the silky ring tightened and peaked, a delightfully pointed nub she flicked and then rubbed. A graze of her nails over to his other side and his right nipple received the same devotion, until it pebbled beneath her finger and a husky groan rumbled in his chest.
The hand at her waist tightened, the digits flexed and squeezed her hip. Desire warmed her cheeks and she shuddered when he eased his hand inside the small gap of leather at her lower back.
She would let him go where he wanted. Not one person in all her time at the castle had shown her the same level of respect he displayed.
The rough calluses on his palm teased the vulnerable skin of her ass. His pinky traced the crease of her bottom as he edged his hand lower, his fingers gripping and seeking within the tight confines of her fitted pants.
Skin gliding against skin, she swept her hand low, raked her splayed fingers through the soft line of hair below his bellybutton. A breath rasped from his lips and his stomach contracted as she pried her fingertips under his waistband and slipped her hand inside. Less than an inch and her fingers forked around the bulbous tip of his rigid cock. Velvet over steel, his shaft pulsed against the center of her palm as she stroked him from base to tip, gauging the full length of him. A vision of him naked, braced on his arms as he rocked into her, ignited a throb of need that made the ground tilt off-kilter. The man did not disappoint.