"Oh!" she exclaimed, smiling as he brought the net around her waist and pulled her up against him.
"Mayhap my methods are not so lacking after all," he said, holding her firmly to his body. "Who needs supper when there is a delectable siren in one's net?"
She giggled, not even trying to escape him. "You are getting me all wet."
Rand grinned. "Oh, I do hope so."
He bent toward her and kissed her, feeling her breath rush in and out as the tide lapped around them in the granite alcove. Rand caught her mass of dark hair in his hands and let it spill between his fingers, an ebony cascade. He rained a string of kisses along her throat, and down, to the heaven of her bosom. Serena drew in a gasp as his hand closed around one perfect breast. He smoothed his thumb over the nubby peak that rose through her simple gown, teasing it to a pearly bead before moving on to give equal attention to the other.
Serena's hands were on him as well, not the least shy, slipping beneath his tunic to the bare skin that ached for her touch. She caressed him, inching up his shirt to give her mouth access. Rand jerked with a fierce need as she sank down to her knees in the wet sand and her lips brushed over his chest. She pushed his tunic up, and Rand took it from her, stripping it off and tossing it out of the way. Serena licked him, then took the flat disk of his nipple between her teeth. She suckled him and nipped him, coaxing the bud to hardness as another part of him clenched with like response.
God's love, but he wanted her lips all over him.
She drew back, lifting her Knowing gaze to meet his eyes.
"Yes," she whispered, a single breath that fanned across his bare abdomen as she leaned forward and placed her mouth to the knotted muscles above the waist of his trews.
With unerring fingers, she loosened the ties and let the fabric go slack at his hips. She kissed him lower, down along the tender skin of his groin, and Rand moaned with keen, tormented pleasure.
More.
He didn't know if he said it aloud or merely gasped it in his mind, but Serena and her Knowing touch heard his plea. She freed him of the last of his clothing, smoothing her hands down the length of his thighs, and to his calves. He wanted her so badly, her touch alone nearly dropped him to his knees before her. Serena's fingers dragged back up his legs, slowing as they climbed. The first touch of her hand on his aching flesh jolted through him. She closed her fingers around his girth, stroking his shaft.
Ah, God. Yes...more.
She bent forward and tenderly kissed the base of his sex. Her throaty moan, her warm breath, bred carnal heat in him, coiling tight in his gut. Serena moved up his length, her mouth wet and hot, a slow, wicked torture. She reached the crest and her kiss became more ardent. She sucked him into her mouth, her tongue a velvet softness that drove him mad with desire. Rand speared his fingers through her hair, catching the back of her head in his palms.
Deeper. Don't stop touching me.
Serena fulfilled his unspoken demands, wrapping her lips around his manhood as she continued to stroke and caress his fevered flesh. She took him deeper into her sweet mouth, deeper than he would have dreamed. Rand gasped as his arousal surged harder, straining for release. When he teetered at the very edge of sanity, he somehow drew the strength to pull away. He had no words, only a feral growl to tell her he could take no more without bringing her with him. Serena's lips were glistening like dew-kissed berries as she slowly came up. She kept stroking him, sliding up and down the slick length of him.
"I didn't want to stop," she whispered, husky and shameless in her enjoyment of him.
Rand pulled her up to him and kissed her deeply, plundering her mouth with his tongue. He removed her bliaut and chemise, tossing them up to drier ground in the tidal cove.
"My God," he rasped. He was shaking. "Do you know how much I want you?"
She did not answer, save to meet his lips in a decidedly possessive claiming. It stunned him to feel so much power in so delicate a woman. But where Serena was delicate, she was also as deep and vital as the ocean that bordered her woodland realm. Rand gave in to her whim, letting her show him what she needed.
He knew her body now, understood her responses that told him how she wanted him to love her. Serena kissed him as fiercely as a gathering storm. She was liquid in his arms, her aqua gaze darkened to indigo, she every bit the siren as she took his hands in hers and urged him down onto the tidal bed at their feet.
She lay back in the firm, wet sand, resplendent as the small waves rolled up around her. Rand spread her legs, feasting his gaze on every decadent inch of her. He knelt between her knees and bowed over her in worship. The fine down curls at the juncture of her thighs tickled his shaven jaw. He blew them softly, pleased at the spray of gooseflesh that rose in the wake of his attention. He kissed her there, tenderly, a tease and no more, reveling in the wetness that played so silkily against the tip of his tongue.
Serena arched up as he delved within the plump petals of her sex. She cried out when he found the swollen nub at their core and took it between his lips. She was writhing even before he slipped one finger inside her, her body clenching around him, quaking with each deep stroke of his hand and tongue. Only when her climax began did he rise to cover her with his body, bringing her legs up and sheathing himself in one full, penetrating thrust.
Serena came around him like a tempest, savage and wanton, weeping his name as her body seized him in wave after wave of release. Rand moved with her, a fevered rhythm that echoed in the cavernous overhang of the cove. His climax ripped out of him on a roar of completion, leaving him trembling and so blissfully drained. He gathered her close, kissing her lips, her chin, her brow. She was panting beneath him, clinging to him as his weight pressed her down into the soft bed of the tidal pool.
Rand did not know how long they lay there, holding each other and listening to the ocean roll around them. He knew only the feel of Serena's body against his, the scent of her hair as it danced on the incoming waves, the sight of her beautiful face gazing up at him in contented bliss. He could have stayed there forever.
"Tell me what you're thinking."
Although her hands skimmed lightly over his back, her gaze wise with Knowing, Serena smiled up at him and gently urged him to speak what was in his heart.
"I would hear it from your lips," she said, raising herself up from their bed of warm sand to kiss him. "Talk to me, Rand."
He gazed down at her, marveling as always at the feeling of sanctuary he knew in her arms. "I am thinking how at ease I am with you. From the time I was a boy, I was trained for war. It has been the basis of my life: a sword at my hip, a battle cry in my throat, blood on my hands. Even my marriage was a combat more often than not. I have known little peace in my life, Serena. Until now."
"I thought I knew peace," she said, her fingers tracing up along his shoulder, into his hair. "I thought I knew a great many things before you arrived to waken me to all that I was missing."
Rand moaned as she subtly arched beneath him, seating his manhood more fully within her. "It has been my great pleasure rousing you from your slumber, sweet nymph." He was roused as well. He bent his head, kissed the tip of her nose as he greeted her teasing with a slow, deep thrust of his hips. "You make me wish that I could show you everything in this world. All that I have seen, all the places I have been and hope one day yet to go."
"Where would you take me?" Serena asked, eagerness shining in her eyes.
"Across this ocean, to another one where the sun lights the water to the precise shade of your eyes. I would take you to the king's own court in London, where I'd dress you in fine silks and jewels, and we would dine on exotic dishes and rich French wine. I'd like to show you Scotland someday, too. You would enjoy the highlands, I think. Or mayhap I would rather keep you all to myself. We could sail wherever the winds take us, with no borders and no obligations hemming us in..."
He was rambling, caught up in the moment. He let his words drift off like the vapor they were. Naught but a pretty dream, all
of it. And like a dream, impossible to grasp and hold on to, no matter how badly they both might wish it could be theirs. Serena yearned to venture beyond the grove line that had hemmed her in for so long, but she would never leave her mother alone to fend for herself; Calandra was her responsibility, her only kin.
As for Rand, he could make no plans beyond the one that would lead him to Silas de Mortaine. No corner of the world--regardless how distant--would be safe for any living being if he allowed the Dragon Chalice to fall into that villain's hands.
Serena caressed his face with a gentle hand, smoothing her fingers along his jaw, which was clenched tight and tense. "I know," she whispered. "But it is a pretty dream."
Chapter 21
Serena sighed, coming out of her sleep in a languorous daze. She rolled onto her back and let the dawn pour over her through the open window of the cottage. She had been dreaming of sunny skies and blue water, dazzling castle feasts...and Rand. Lazily, she pushed herself up from the pallet, tossing back the chaotic mass of her hair. Her sleep-bleary gaze lit on something strange in the window--a parade of small carvings, lined up in a row on the casement.
She leaped up to examine them, smiling at once when she realized what they were.
Doves.
Rand had made her a family of small wooden doves to accompany the first he had given her at the berry bushes several days before. The largest of these new treasures was scarcely bigger than her thumb, but all of them carved with exquisite care. Beaming at the sweetness of his gift, Serena touched each gracefully bowed head, each feathered wing tucked cozily against the plump curve of the doves' bodies.
Oh, Rand, she thought, her heart squeezed with warm affection for the man who had brought so much joy into her life, so unexpectedly. With her mother sleeping in her pallet nearby, Serena padded across the cottage and slipped out to find him.
The cottage yard was empty and quiet. He was not there. The beach, more likely, Serena thought, and with an eager smile on her lips, she ventured onto the path that led to the shore. Halfway down, she spied him. He was standing on the sand, facing the sea. His dark hair riffled in the ocean breeze, the chestnut waves breaking at the collar of a midnight blue cloak she did not recall he had.
Where had he gotten that?
Serena felt a momentary twitch of alarm, but then he turned his head slightly to the side and she saw the profile of his brow and proud aquiline nose, familiar features of the face she so adored.
"If you think you must continue to woo me with presents, I feel it only fair to tell you that I am already devoted you, well and truly."
The dark slash brow arched in interest, and Rand slowly turned to face her.
"The figures are precious, Rand. I..."
"Well, well. Aren't you lovely, fresh from slumber?"
It seemed a queer thing for him to say, but that was not what made her stop short on the path. He smiled at her. It might have warmed her to see it, save for one troubling detail.
"Your beard," she murmured, not at all sure she said it aloud for the sudden clanging of confusion and panic that was rising in her head. "Rand...?"
The vision before her raised a hand and stroked the dark whiskers that covered his cheeks and jaw. It made no sense. How could this be? His face should be clean-shaven, as it was the last time she saw him--mere hours ago.
"Does it displease you, lovely? Come here, and let me show you how gentle I can be with it."
Serena took a fearful step back as the man--this man who seemed to be Rand but was not Rand--began to advance on her.
"Who are you?"
He leered now, baring overlong teeth befitting more an animal than a human. The hilt of a large and deadly sword gleamed above a bossed leather sheath at his hip. "Me? Why, surely you know me. Don't be afraid, lovely. I am Randwulf, lord of Greycliff--"
"No," she said, retreating another pace. "No, you're not him. You are something...other."
The beast chuckled, and the illusion of Rand's face slipped. Serena glimpsed a hideousness beneath the trick: yellow eyes glowing around elongated pupils, sharp features, wolfish jaw. "You are harboring the man, and he holds something that does not belong to him."
The shifter advanced, his heavy boots mutating into bristly black paws. Thick talons curled into the sand of the beach as he took a step toward her. Serena faltered, but she dared not take her eyes off the approaching menace to gauge her chances of escape.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, stalling as she inched another backward pace. Her heart battered about in her breast, panic gripping her. "There is nothing here that you want."
"The cup," growled the beast. "Two pieces of the Dragon Chalice--Calasaar and Vorimasaar--fused as one. Greycliff has it, and I know it is here."
One hand behind her to feel her way to the path, Serena shook her head. "No. You're wrong. Rand did have it once, but he lost it at sea. There was a storm...the cup is gone."
"You lie. The Chalice is here. I can smell it," he snarled, "as surely as I smell your fear, wench."
Cool leaves brushed her fingertips. From the texture of the lacy ferns at her back, she knew the path was but a two-pace at most to her right. She edged nearer, all her muscles tensed for flight.
The shifter must have sensed her purpose, for all at once, it lunged.
Serena screamed, pivoting a hairbreadth too late to elude its grasp. She fell flat, her belly hitting the earthen track of the path, her lungs crushing with the impact. She scrambled forward on pure fright. She kicked and thrashed her legs, feeling the drag of claws at her ankle. The shifter wrenched her backward, but Serena kept up her fight. She freed her leg from his clutches, but then just as quickly, he had her by the hem of her chemise. Talon-tipped fingers curled into the old homespun, shredding it to ribbons.
Serena screamed again, terrified, frantic to get away. "No! Let me go!"
Instinct commanded her where her experience in fighting was nil. She flipped over, tearing loose part of her ruined skirt as the shifter's grip scrabbled for better purchase. Her legs pumping artlessly, she aimed for his snarling face. No longer Rand, but a grotesque merge of coarse human and feral wolf, the shifter slavered over her. Serena bucked, aiming her heel for the lengthening snout of the beast. She kicked hard, teeth gritted in fury, and felt the jarring impact as hard bone and desperate force connected with the vulnerable target of his nose.
There was a sickening crunch. Blood splattered her in a rain of sticky warmth. The shifter howled and reared back.
"Agh! You bitch!"
In that instant of reaction, Serena jumped to her feet and set off at a dead run. She heard him leap after her, his gait heavy on the path, his bulky frame sweeping past the overgrown foliage on either side.
Every instinct told Serena to head for the cottage, to the safety of stone and wood and a door that could be barred against attack. But her mother was there, and she could not bring this evil down on her, too. Instead, Serena veered off the path and plunged deeper into the grove. The shifter followed. She knew not where she would go, or how she would escape.
Rand, her mind screamed.
Oh, God. Rand, please help me!
* * *
The scream rang through the forest, pure terror shattering the calm of the morning. Rand's head snapped up where he crouched before one of the woodland wells. The cup of water he'd drawn a moment ago now dropped from his fingers with a dull splash. He vaulted to his feet.
Serena.
He knew it at once, and his blood froze to ice in his veins.
She screamed again and what was ice turned swiftly to a molten rage.
He was running then, tearing through the bracken. On instinct, his hand flew to his hip to find his sword. There was no sword, only the paltry dagger sheathed on his belt. He took it in hand as he cleared an old tree stump and turned down toward the beach, from where Serena's screams had issued.
Pray God she was all right.
The path would take too long for him to reach
her. Low-hanging branches lashed his face and arms as he left the trail and plunged into the thicket. He paid no heed to the whiplike burn of his skin. His head was clanging with alarm and the brutal, steel resolve that accompanied him into every battle.
But this was different.
This was Serena, and when he thought of her meeting with harm, some of the cold logic that served him so well in combat incinerated with his every furious step.
He heard a rustle of movement fast approaching up ahead. Rand turned toward it, his gaze homing in on a flash of pale fabric through the tight network of leaves and branches.
"Serena!"
She did not hear him through her fear. She was coming straight for him now. She hadn't seen him yet, kept turning to look behind her, to where a dark shape dogged her steps. Immense, loping in great strides, her pursuer was gaining ground fast.
The big man gave a snarl--unearthly, guttural--and Rand knew at once what he was about to face.
"Serena, this way!"
"Rand!"
Her wild gaze found him at last and locked on. She ran faster, as though seeing him gave her a final burst of needed strength. She was panting, her face devoid of color when she came to within arm's reach of him. Acting swiftly, Rand moved her behind him and put himself into the direct path of the shifter.
"Get out of here!" he shouted to Serena as she stumbled to the ground at his back. "Go now!"
There was no time to waste, no time to make use of his drawn dagger. The instant he swiveled his head to face their assailant, the shifter was upon him. Half-changed, the man-beast leaped, latching onto Rand's shoulders with clawed fingers and unnatural might. It drove him down at once, the both of them dropping to the ground in a roiling heap.
The shifter gnashed his teeth beneath a savagely bent and bleeding nose, moving in to land a bite on Rand's arm. He avoided it narrowly, then railed back and sent his fist into the man's jaw. The beast shook off the blow, rolling with Rand as it struggled to take advantage. Rand punched it again, aiming for its already broken nose.
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