by Chandra Ryan
“She shouldn’t have. She was too young to understand what was going on.” He reached out to grab her hand and she let him. They both needed comforting right now.
“It wasn’t that difficult to understand. You didn’t think your family should be able to determine who you married.” Maybe if she just focused helping Kavin, she could keep her voice from breaking. “And when your family gave you an ultimatum, you left.” There, it was out in the open now. She wanted to say it felt better, but the sting of unshed tears would prove her for the liar she was. “After the messes I’ve left in my wake, I’m not sure there are any who would blame you for walking when you had the chance. Who knows, maybe there’s some prophecy in your blood.” It was her attempt at a joke, but he didn’t seem amused.
“And if I had stayed, you would have never been at Devin or Ashlyn’s mercy, would you?”
She was trying to hold it together, but she felt so damned brittle. “You can’t be blamed for that.”
“I left knowing what an arrogant prick Devin was. If not me, then who do you blame?” The cold guilt radiated from him, hiding his warmth from her.
“Is that why you never came to visit me?” He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. “I’ve never blamed you for that mess. I’ve blamed Devin, Ashlyn, my family, your family, an antiquated caste system that insists on arranged marriages, even the gods themselves, but never you.” She wrapped her fingers around his tighter.
“No. I walked away.”
“And that was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.” Her smile was probably shaky, but it was the best she could do when faced with his look of skepticism. “I mean, I didn’t think so at the time. But later, when I was older, I understood. There were so many nights I wished I had that courage. To tell them to hell with their obligations. To set off on my own. But I wasn’t strong enough. I didn’t trust myself enough. But you, you did. You left a life of comfort and privilege because of your principles. It was one of the things I always admired about you the most.”
“But I set all of this into motion.”
That’s where she had to stop him. “This,” she said, looking around them, “isn’t as bad as you’re trying to make it out to be. It may not be the life I was born into, but it’s a life of my making. It’s an honest life. And as crazy as it sounds, I like it. Don’t misunderstand, I miss my family. I miss my friends. But this life hasn’t been all bad. And I can guarantee it’s better than life would have been had I gotten married to some conceited royal and bred like a prize mare.”
He pulled her into his lap. It only took a minor adjustment for her to be straddling his muscular thighs. “Really?”
This felt like home. Taking a deep breath, she delighted in the scent of sandalwood and sunshine. “I wouldn’t lie. Not to you.” She wiggled her hips before wrapping her arms around his neck and dropping her head the inch it took to kiss him. It was just the barest of brush of her skin on his, but it electrified her. “And since you’ve always liked servant girls better than royalty anyhow, I’d say it worked out for both of us.”
He pulled her body against his tightly and with a hand at the nape of her neck, brought her mouth to his in a full kiss. His mouth was firm under hers, his hunger demanding and she wanted—needed to answer it. Outlining his upper lip with the tip of her tongue, she felt him shiver under her. “There is one who seems hell bent on driving me crazy.”
“Is she succeeding?” She nipped his bottom lip.
He moaned softly and pulled her closer to him. “Probably better than she knows.”
“That’s good to hear.” She rocked her hips against him and leaned over to whisper in his ears. “’Cause you’re driving her insane.”
She could’ve stayed like that all night. She wanted nothing more. But as the flap to his tent was pulled back to reveal a rather impatient looking Kemah, she knew their time was over—for now, at least.
“Jar and I got the short straws. He’s keeping an eye on the assassin so I’m with you. ’Bout ready?” Kavin growled at the man, but Kemah just shrugged. “I can assure you, I’m not any happier about this than you are. But that doesn’t change anything. You’re going to have to sleep in separate tents until we’ve figured out what’s going on.”
“Give us a minute.” Kavin’s words were clipped.
Kemah grumbled under his breath, but let the flap drop.
She expected—craved—another kiss. Instead, he sighed deeply and shook his head. “We can’t keep doing this, Sara.”
At first, his words made no sense. But, as he lifted her off his lap, they finally took root. “Why not?”
“No promise of tomorrow, remember?”
“I don’t need tomorrow.” She leaned into him, keeping her kiss light and teasing.
“You may not think you do, but you do. And I’ve already cost you too much. I won’t take this from you.”
“How do you know what I need?” Indignation was quickly replacing the desire that had flooded her just moments ago.
“Because I’ve known you your entire life. I know you better than you know yourself. And I’m telling you, as much as it kills me to do so, you need someone who can give you tomorrow.”
He may not be able to promise her forever; she accepted that. But she’d be damned if she let him say guards couldn’t be together. “But Shemeek and Jar—”
“Are guards. I’m the Right. It’s different. They work for the king, I belong to him.”
“So you can’t give me forever because you already belong to someone else and you won’t give me tonight because I need forever?”
Kavin ran a hand through his hair in obvious frustration. “Yes.”
She growled in frustration of her own as she backed away from him. Damn the man to all nine hells. This was the last decision he was ever going to make for her. “Good night, Kavin.”
Leaving his tent, she didn’t say anything to Kemah. Maybe he picked up on her mood. Maybe he’d heard enough of her and Kavin’s conversation to know to keep quiet. Whatever the reason, he fell into step behind her and kept his silence. And that helped a little.
It had been a long day and she needed sleep—sleep and a little common sense. What had she been thinking? Stupid question, she hadn’t been. Remembering what just happened made her blush with embarrassment. She had thrown herself at him, after he implied he would be okay with that, and he’d rejected her. He hadn’t wanted her.
She knew that wasn’t exactly the truth, but it was what she needed to tell herself to keep her blood hot with anger. The anger couldn’t fade because she didn’t want to know what the anger might be masking. No, anger was safe. She needed to stay angry and to forget about her attraction to Kavin. So tomorrow she could be all business. She would read the captive during the interrogation, and she would find the answers. She’d push until she did. The king would have his answers by the time she arrived at King’s Keep and she would be firmly settled in her new role.
It was a solid plan. But for now, she needed sleep. Sleep would help her forget the sting of rejection. It sure as hell couldn’t make it hurt any worse.
After lying down, she slipped her daggers under the covers next to her. And closing her eyes tightly, she drifted into a deep sleep.
Chapter Eleven
Exhausted, Sara spent the night being pulled into her companions’ dreams. But she didn’t feel guilty about the invasion. She was too tired to feel much of anything at all. Except when she wandered into one of Shemeek’s that was very graphic in nature. Even then, she didn’t feel bad. She was jealous. Jealous of a dream. She’d sunk to an all-time low.
As if prompted by the thought, she found herself in a new dream. She didn’t have to wonder whose it was. Everything about it felt like the man she craved.
Her eyes closed, Sara noticed the heavy smell of jasmine that lingered in the air and the slippery silk under her hands. She was kneeling on a bed, her weight supported by her arms as she left a meandering trail of kisses across the soft, supple skin. Each ki
ss brought her tantalizingly closer to her goal while adding to the tension that already strained her control.
Running the tip of her tongue in a lazy circle over the smooth skin, she was filled with a dangerous desire that was all consuming. Her heart beating faster, she shifted her weight to her knees and began exploring the body with her hands, her fingers memorizing each curve.
At the soft, wistful sigh she opened her eyes to the moonlit room. Staring at the slender thigh under her, Sara’s mouth once more pressed down on the taut skin, eliciting yet another sigh as delicate fingers began to work their way through her hair.
Only, she suddenly remembered, it wasn’t her mouth. It was Kavin’s. He was having a dream about bedding another woman just hours after sending her on her way. The realization struck her hard. Hard enough that she pushed against the dream—tried to find a way out. But it was useless, she was stuck.
There was a rustle of movement against the silk as he continued to inch his way up the female, now nibbling on her outer thigh. He glanced upwards for just a second, bringing the woman’s hip into view.
A small smile worked its way to Sara lips as she studied the hip carefully through his eyes. There was no mistaking the Raven Crest tattoo. He was dreaming of her. And that suddenly made the dream not only all right, but also so decadently sinful that she couldn’t help but surrender to it.
Her skin was warm as Kavin made his way up her thigh and over to her sex. He wanted to taste her. Needed to hear her gasp of pleasure as he ran the tip of his tongue over the sensitive bud. Gods he needed to be in her, have her wrapped around him so badly it hurt.
Her fingernails raked his scalp as he continued to caress her with his tongue. She moaned throatily and that was his undoing. Pulling himself up over her body, he took one beaded nipple into his mouth before positioning himself and thrusting into her. She was his.
Pulled abruptly from his dream, Sara swore under her breath. She was more frustrated than ever and this new dream felt normal, ordinary. And ordinary wasn’t what she wanted right now.
But as soon as the thought formed it was lost again, and she was pulled completely into the dream, losing herself in it.
It was early morning and a cold, hazy rain had settled over the land, making everything appear gray. Off in the distance she heard the bird call and knew the coast was clear. The young man had been doing a good job guarding the tent, but she’d been patient and he had eventually drifted to sleep.
She crept from shadow to shadow through the wooded area. They had made a mistake and gotten too close earlier, but it was a mistake she had been careful not to repeat. Once in the camp, the shadows were harder to find, harder to hide in, and her heart pounded hard at the thought of discovery. She made her way to the back of the tent. Looking around to make sure she hadn’t been seen, she pulled a dagger from her boot and cut a slit in the rear wall, giving her an unguarded entrance.
Sara felt the cold metal in her palm and knew something was wrong. The blade, as wonderfully balanced as it was, wasn’t hers. Her hilts were inlayed with teak, but the warm welcoming wood was missing from the one she now held.
Stepping through the newly made door, she was forced to kneel in the cramped space. Then she saw the sleeping form—her target. But it was her own face she stared at.
Terror filled Sara as she realized she wasn’t in a dream but in someone’s thoughts, someone who was about to thrust a dagger into her heart. Fighting against the sleep induced fog, she forced herself to wake. And with a single fluid move, she grabbed one of her daggers and thrust it into her assailant’s gut. As the knife sliced into the woman’s supple skin, Sara felt a fiery explosion erupt in her own abdomen before her consciousness could return entirely to her own mind.
The assassin gasped in pain, but still pressed forward, her dagger giving off a slight glint as it descended. It was aimed at Sara’s ribs. Turning, she blocked the deadly lunge with her arm, but not without cost. Searing, tearing, blinding pain followed the blade as it cut deep into her flesh.
Drawing on what little reserves she had, Sara grabbed her second dagger with her uninjured arm and slashed it across her assailant’s throat. Hot, sticky blood sprayed across Sara’s face and the walls of the tent. The assassin’s pale eyes went wide with disbelief. Waves of failure and despair radiated from her assailant, but there was also determination.
Her attacker straightened once more and making gurgling, choking sounds, moved toward her. She slashed at Sara with her dagger, but it was a weak attempt and gave Sara plenty of time to roll out of the way.
Her blade meeting only air, the assassin lost her balance and fell hard onto the floor of the tent. Death and failure a certainty now, Sara heard her prayers to Orlara for forgiveness as the last wisps of life left her.
“Kavin!” She stumbled out of the tent and into the drizzly day only to stop in confusion at Kemah, who was still posted there.
He grabbed his sword and made for the flap in the tent, but she reached out to touch his arm.
“She’s already dead.” Lightheaded, she fell down, her knees hitting the soggy ground.
“Are you all right?” He was kneeling next to her, his hands wiping away some of the assassin’s blood from her face.
“I’ll be fine.” Clutching her arm tightly to her side, she watched as the world spun around her. “But I need Kavin.”
“Maybe I could—”
“Just get Kavin.” Normally she would feel bad about being short with someone trying to help, but the pain was already making her woozy.
“I’ll be right back then.”
Watching him disappear into the gray morning, Sara squeezed her arm and prayed the assassin hadn’t cut through anything life threatening. The last thing she needed was to bleed out before she could convince Kavin she should be allowed to participate in one of those dreams. And now that she should by all rights be dead, he would have to listen to her argument that she didn’t need promises of tomorrow. It was only because of her gift that she had any tomorrows left.
She chuckled softly. She could just imagine the look of shock when she told him. It would probably be quickly replaced by the look of hunger he had when she’d kissed him. Her heart began to beat faster at the thought, which was exactly what she didn’t need.
Clearing her head, she took a mental account of herself. Her fingers were already numb and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t remember how to move them. Looking up, she was relieved to find Kavin running through the foggy rain in a wrinkled uniform, his hair a tangle of damp curls.
“Good gods, woman, I can’t take my eyes off you for a second.”
“I offered to stay with you.”
“I know.” Fear and anger competed with each other inside him; she could feel them pushing against not only themselves but also him. “What happened?”
“Second person was another assassin; she showed up in my tent this morning.”
“Damn.” He gently prodded the slash in her sleeve and cursed again. “This isn’t good, Sara.”
“I was hoping you might be able to bandage it—or something.” She stared into his eyes, watching the storm of emotions he was carefully keeping in check.
“In my tent.” He gently picked her up before turning to Kemah. “Put the body with the other and, after you pack up Sara’s stuff, burn the tent. I don’t want any evidence left behind.” As soon as he said the words he started toward his tent in a quick walk.
“The other?” She snuggled into his warmth, ignoring the fear and anger that were fighting just under his calm surface.
“The first assassin managed to get free sometime during the night and attacked Jar.” He ducked as he stepped into his tent. “He had to kill her.” After gently sitting her on his blanket, he started rummaging through his bags.
She was so tired and cold. If she lay down for a moment, maybe that would help.
As soon as she put her head down, though, Kavin picked her back up and propped her into a sitting position. �
�No going to sleep.”
“Jar…” Her voice trailed off as the room swam around her.
“What?”
“Is Jar okay?” She was desperately trying to stay awake.
“He’ll be fine. He took a knife to his upper thigh and chest, but fortunately the one to his chest didn’t make it through his leathers. Ah, here it is.” He had picked up a satchel of dried herbs and kneeled down behind her so he could examine the wound again. “I think it goes to the bone, Sara. It’s going to take more than just herbs and bandages.”
“I thought as much.”
“You’re going to have to take off your tunic.”
“Help me?” She couldn’t raise her arms above her head let alone undress herself.
“It’ll have to be cut off,” he said, picking his knife up off the floor.
“Do it, now. Can’t stay awake.” She closed her eyes but continued fighting against the darkness threatening her.
“Hold still.” He ran the knife carefully down the back of the tunic and then slid the sleeve off her uninjured arm. She shivered as half the tunic fell away from her, leaving her skin exposed to the chill of the morning.
“Brace yourself. This is going to sting.” Fiery sparks of pain burst behind her clenched eyelids as he moved her injured arm to free it from the garment.
“Gods. Just let me die next time.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault.”
“That’s debatable.”
Of course. In his world, everything was his fault. She wanted to argue the point with him, but didn’t have the energy. He wouldn’t listen to her anyway. Her words couldn’t match his need for order and responsibility no matter how logical they were.