Jana finally leaned back with a frustrated groan. “I don’t even have anything to compare this to. It’s unlike any language I’ve ever read. Are they symbols or words? I can’t even tell that much.”
Shannen nodded and rubbed her temples. She glanced for what must have been the thousandth time out the window, which looked out over the road to the east. She looked away, and then looked back, sure her eyes had been playing tricks on her. She stood up on shaky legs, and Janara followed her gaze.
A column of Maarlai made their way along the road, Daarik’s huge form leading them. Shannen gave a gleeful shout and ran out of the room, down the corridor, down the stairs, and out into the courtyard. She was getting soaked and couldn’t be bothered to care.
“Open the gates,” she shouted at the guards, and they complied. As soon as they were open, she ran at full speed down the muddy road, the rain nearly blinding her. She saw the moment Daarik recognized her. He ran toward her and swept her up into his arms, lips crashing down onto hers, holding her tightly, as if he was never, ever going to let her go. After one dizzying kiss, he nuzzled the sensitive skin under her ear, breathing her in as she caught her breath.
“Wife,” he said in a hoarse voice. “Goddess, how I’ve missed you.”
“I have missed you. So much,” she answered, and he kissed her again, hungrily, desperately, as the Maarlai moved past them, marching into Ashwall. There were no more secrets now, no politics, no more hiding what they were to one another. They would do this together, as husband and wife, as partners, as two people who had sworn their lives to one another. It was the only way Shannen ever wanted to do anything again.
By the time Daarik finally broke their kiss, Shannen was soaked through and breathless. Renn’s guards stood at the gates, greeting their Lord and waiting for Shannen and Daarik to move on so they could close the gates. Daarik carried her back to Ashwell.
“I am never letting you out of my sight again,” he murmured as he pressed his lips to her neck.
When they were inside, the gates slammed closed behind them, and Shannen patted Daarik’s arms, signaling him to let her down. He did, reluctantly, and she turned to her old friend.
“Renn,” she said.
“Your Highness,” he said, bowing to her.
“You were wrong about me,” she said, crossing her arms.
“I was wrong about a great many things. I am glad to have been wrong about you, Shan.”
“And you lied to me.” He looked uncomfortable, and she took mercy on him. “But I understand why. We all have our little secrets.”
“That we do.” He looked pained. “I am sorry about Tanris. While I feared that they would strike while you were there, I still couldn't believe it actually happened that way. I’m glad you’re all right. And that you got so many of your people out.”
“I could not have done it without a lot of help. I am lucky to have good people by my side.”
He nodded. “I hope you will allow me to be one of those at your side.”
“We have things to talk about,” Shannen said.
Renn opened his mouth to respond, and Daarik put his hands on Shannen’s hips. “Not now,” he said near Shannen’s ear. “We have things to discuss as well, Shannen.”
Shannen smiled at Renn and took Daarik’s hand. She led him to the stairs that led up to her quarters as calmly as possible. For his part, Daarik did little to hide his impatience at having her alone, gripping her hips as he followed her up the stairs, keeping his body close to hers. When they reached the top of the stairs, the corridor was empty and Daarik took the opportunity to back Shannen up against the stone wall and kiss her absolutely senseless, just as he had promised. His lips were firm and warm against hers, demanding, hungry, and his hands gripped her hips tightly as his body pressed hers against the wall. She was surrounded by him, dominated by him, and it was everything she’d been craving since the night she had walked away from him.
He lowered his mouth to the side of her neck and kissed, then bit the sensitive skin there, not exactly gently. She smothered a cry, and he did it again, and then started pulling up her skirt, his hand snaking beneath the wet fabric.
“Daarik,” she hissed, shoving at his hand. He grunted and took both of her wrists in one large hand, pinning her hands to the wall over her head as he kissed her again. She was panting, overwhelmed, and when his mouth closed over the bodice of her dress, she bit her lip to keep from making noise.
“Daarik,” she begged, and he raised his face to hers. “Are you so worried about propriety, wife? I want them all to know that you are very much mine, and I’m yours. I refuse to pretend anymore. I’m not going to live my life the way my father did, half-living in service of the crown on his head. I’ll have you, and if my people don’t like it, they can go to hell.”
“I—”
Whatever she’d been about to say was stolen by his mouth on hers. Slowly but surely, they made it to the end of the corridor and into her suite. Once they were inside, Daarik released her and locked the door, dark eyes watching her every move.
“Unless you want that gown ripped to shreds, you need to take it off right now,” he told her, a low growl to his voice, a lazy smile as he stood back and looked at her.
Shannen smiled and slowly undid the hooks at the back of her dress, keeping her eyes on Daarik as he watched her. She forced herself to go slowly, watching him as he got more and more impatient. Once the last hook was freed, she brought her hands up to her neckline and slowly started pushing it down, revealing her shoulders, the swell of her breasts.
“You are asking for it, woman,” he growled as he clasped his hands in front of himself, as if he was physically holding himself back.
“Who, me?” she teased, slowly letting the gown fall to her waist, then off of her hips. Daarik groaned as she turned around and slowly started shimmying out of her panties. She was standing in front of the bed, and the second she was free of the satiny fabric, Daarik was behind her, running his hands down her back, over her hips and bare buttocks. She rubbed against him, teasing, taunting, and then stepping away and it earned her a quick, hard smack to her rear. She jumped with a shout, and then laughed. He firmly rubbed the flesh he’d just spanked, soothing it, molding her sensitive flesh, and she trembled. Daarik turned her toward him and dropped to his knees in front of her, his face roughly level with her chest. He pressed his lips to the skin between her breasts, and her breath hitched. He kissed his way down her sternum, to her stomach, where he nuzzled his face against her and gripped her backside in his large hands. HIs tongue swirled around her navel, dipping gently inside before he kissed and licked his way across to one hip, then the other. The whole time, his hands were on her backside, squeezing, molding, massaging her flesh, and by the time he kissed his way back up her body, Shannen could barely even think with need for him.
“I promised myself that when I had you by my side again, I’d make sure you know how much you mean to me. I could spend the rest of my life worshipping you, and it wouldn’t be long enough.”
Tears sprang to Shannen’s eyes and she wrapped her arms around his waist, held him tightly. She pulled away and started unbuckling the leather armor he wore, letting it fall to the floor piece by piece as she freed him from it. Soon, he was naked in all his muscled, scarred splendor, and she was on the verge of tears. Need, love, overwhelm hitting her all at once. His gaze bored into hers, and he gently pressed her back onto the bed.
“I’m never being parted from you again,” he murmured as he slid inside her, filling her. She held him tightly and kept her eyes on his. “This was the last thing either of us wanted, but damn if I’m going to let anyone, human, Maarlai, Sarlene, or otherwise take this away from us.”
She nodded, blinking back tears. It was like the world had come back to life now that he was in her life again, as if something inside her had thawed, something only Daarik had ever been able to make her feel. “Never again,” she promised.
Their lovemaking was sl
ow, leisurely, and thorough. Without words, they told each other how loved, how cherished, how needed they were to one another. There was not an inch of Shannen’s body the Daarik had not tasted by the time they were exhausted, and she had done the same, almost needing to convince herself that he was real, that he was with her, and that as well as she had managed alone, she was much happier with him by her side. He handled her expertly, knowing exactly what she liked, what would draw a response from her, and he left her limp, exhausted, and sated before finally settling in beside her in bed.
Daarik lay with Shannen in his arms, and all he could do was hold her, stare at her. He’d been starving, and now everything he’d hungered for was here in his arms. They lay in bed as the sun set and the rain continued to beat down on the eaves outside their window.
“You must be hungry,” Shannen said sleepily, and Daarik shook his head.
“No. All I want is this. You, me, and nobody else. Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed you?”
“If it is anywhere near as much as I have missed you, then it was near-torturous.”
He nodded and kissed her gently, loving the taste of her, the feel of her soft lips against his. “That’s a good description,” he said as he pulled away.
“I’m sorry you weren't able to catch Jarvik,” she said as he pulled her into his arms. She rested her head gainst his chest and traced her fingers up and down his arm. “The whole point of you renouncing me was to give yourself time to unify your people.”
Daarik suppressed a growl at the memory of publicly renouncing her, at the shame of ever trying to pretend she wasn’t everything to him. “Even after you were gone, we kept losing the more faithless Maarlai. All in all, we lost a few dozen. Some, we re-captured. Jarvik, wherever he is, is still lying low with his most devoted followers. This was not the quick, easy operation I was hoping it would be. I forgot how sly Jarvik truly is.” He sighed. “And I’m angry with myself, and with you, for ever agreeing to that in the first place.”
Shannen sat up and looked at him. “You are angry?”
“Yes. If I hadn’t been deep in grief over my father and Baerne's deaths, if I hadn’t been turned stupid by the fact that all of a sudden, the responsibility of leading the Maarlai was solely mine, I wouldn’t have been idiot enough to agree to that charade.”
Shannen sputtered. “I—”
“Calm yourself, wife. I would never have even tried to stand in your way. You will always do what you feel you need to, and only a fool would even want to try to stand in your way. But lying about what I feel for you felt wrong, and I’ll never do it again. You are my wife, my mate, my heart and soul, and I don’t care who knows it or whether they like it or not. I’m not a politician. I tried to be my father, — that was a ruse he would have approved of — and I can’t. I don’t want to be. I’ll be myself, and if they don’t like it, they can find another to lead them.”
He quieted. It was more words than he’d said in days. Only Shannen had the ability to bring out his talkative side. He knew he made her softer, more trusting. He softened her rough edges, and she made everything in his life more vibrant, as if he’d been living a half life when she wasn’t around.
“About what I need to do…” Shannen began, and Daarik looked back at his wife again. It was hard to focus, with her dark hair tumbling around her shoulders, splayed out in a mass of silky waves over her pillow, her golden flesh bared to him. He forced himself to look at her face again, no matter how little he wanted to talk about anything other than when he could be inside her again.
“What?”
“We are going to Darathar. All of us, except those that want to stay here at Ashwall.”
“Assuming Darathar is still there, I think that’s a good plan,” he answered slowly.
“I know it will stress the city’s reserves. There was precious little we were able to save from Tanris, and even that is gone now.”
“We have decent stores now. With those from Tanris in residence, we should be able to do more hunting and harvesting. It’ll work out.”
“I also want to bring Edwell and Harledon.”
Daarik groaned and sat up. “Why are we not killing them, exactly?”
“This from the man who refused to poison Jarvik.”
“And I regret that decision now,” he said, standing up and going to the window. It was pouring rain outside, and he knew the roads, never in good condition anyway, would be an absolute mess for a while now. “If I could go back to the night you suggested poisoning that bastard, I would do it without a second thought. Take it from someone who knows: there are some who don’t deserve to live.” He shook his head. “I was naive. I’d listened to all of the nonsense about how every Maarlai life was special, because there were so few of us left.” He turned back to his wife, letting his eyes roam the curves of her body as she lay on her side in bed, watching him. “I’ve killed more than a few Maarlai since. It feels no different from killing anyone else.”
“He has much to answer for. I insist that he publicly admit that he hid my father’s Immutable law, that he stole the crown from me.”
“What does it matter?” Daarik asked in exasperation.
“Those that doubt my claim need to hear it.”
“We have the actual laws, signed by your father, in Darathar.”
“They cannot read, Daarik,” she said, rolling her eyes. “And it is not like they are just going to blindly trust that some papers the Maarlai just happen to have in their possession name me as queen. They already assume all of this is just a Maarlai power grab, a way for you to cement your power over them.”
“I already have power over them.” The second the words were out of his mouth, he knew they’d been the wrong ones to say. Shannen glared at him and started pulling on her dress. “That’s how the treaty works,” he added.
“You do not have sole authority here,” Shannen said, shoving her arms into her sleeves so roughly he was sure she’d rip the fabric.
“I’m their king, whether they like it or not. It has always been that way. The only difference is that now Edwell isn’t around to posture and incite them.”
“And what am I, Daarik?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. She wasn’t wearing the crown she’d taken from Edwell; that was sitting on a trunk on the other side of the bed.
“You’re my queen,” he said.
“I am also their queen.”
“And the humans are under sovereign rule of the Maarlai.”
“No. They are not.”
He stared at his wife, and his grandmother’s words came back to him. You seem to think that Shannen has no ambition at all for herself, and a fool could tell you otherwise.
“Do you really think I did all of this so that things could stay exactly as they were? For all of your talk about how the Maarlai have been in charge since the treaty was signed a decade ago, my people have remained poor, alone, and at the mercy of a king who treated them like fodder. Where were the Maarlai then?”
“It’s our fault Edwell treated them badly?” he asked in disbelief.
“You stand there and claim to have been in power all this time. What kind of leader turns a blind eye when a large portion, the majority in this case, of his subjects are suffering? Why was Edwell allowed to keep bleeding the people dry? Where were our munificent Maarlai overlords when my people were starving and worse under Edwell?”
“They wanted us to keep our distance,” he said in exasperation. “We were trying to make it easier for them.”
“Well, you failed. You were happy to have a boot on their necks, but you never once offered a hand up, did you?”
Daarik stared at his wife as if seeing a stranger. Where was his soft, playful wife?
Thinking with your second brain again, he heard his grandmother saying, and he shook his head. “My father was king then, not me.”
“Oh, good. Then I can expect you to truly be a ruler for all of us, not just the Maarlai, and to rule equally with me, which was
the point of us being wed in the first place.”
“That was not the point. No one could have foreseen you taking your uncle’s crown,” he argued.
She studied him, and he fought the urge to look away. “You never intended to truly rule together,” she said quietly.
“I never considered it. Until Janara showed you that Immutable, you weren’t interested in ruling.”
“And now? I mean, I have been gone for weeks. You never once considered that I might have a different vision for my people once this was over?”
“I expected that you would trust me to rule,” he growled.
“So I should just… what? Sit off to the side and be a good, quiet little wife and let you do the actual ruling?”
He didn’t answer. He closed his eyes. He was doing it again. Running on automatic, reacting as his father would have. “You’re right,” he said, opening his eyes.
“I already know that,” Shannen muttered, pulling on her panties. He watched, remorse settling over him. There would be no more enjoying his wife’s body that night, he knew. Damn it all.
“We’ll work it out,” he said. “I don’t intend to be my father, in any way. This is new, and we are not the most flexible people. Especially me.” He sighed and bent, picking his pants up off the floor. “Life was much simpler when the assignment was to find the enemy and destroy them.” His words were met with silence, and he glanced up at his wife, catching her eyes. “You fought for this. You bled for this, based on that nasty scar on your shoulder. I have no idea what it took for you to get to this point.”
“I envisioned us ruling jointly, equally. Uniting our people, the way Faerlah said we would have to. I think it is pretty safe to assume that the Sarlene are the danger she warned of in her visions.”
“Faerlah also warned me of your ambition,” he said.
“It doesn’t take a seer to figure out that I want a hell of a lot more,” she answered. Then she shook her head. “Who do you think you married, Daarik?”
She didn’t give him a chance to answer, grabbing her crown and storming out of the room before he’d even opened his mouth. The door slammed behind her with a finality that felt like a punch to the gut.
Riven (Exile Book 2) Page 13