“Oh. Well, then…” The man opened the magazine and moved through, page by page until he came upon his paper. He handed it to Gwynne, proudly thrusting his chest forward as though he’d just won a boxing match. “There it is. You see? There’s a photo of me.” He flashed her a smile, yellowed teeth and all.
“Thanks, this looks…interesting,” she said, her eyes veering again to the medicine-filled bag.
“If you’d like, we could have dinner tonight and discuss the black death. There’s a fine restaurant on the main street…”
Gwynne was saved from an awkward response when a client walked into the shop, causing a little bell above the door to chime with what seemed like far too happy a sound given the seriousness of the moment.
“May I help you?” the apothecary asked, impatience invading his voice.
“Yes,” said the man. “Err…I’ve been having a difficulty…in the bedroom…”
The apothecary lifted a divider separating himself from the client and and moved forward, listening intently to the man whose voice had gone self-consciously quiet.
Gwynne took the opportunity to snatch the bag, the magazine still in her hand, and to picture the lady’s cottage.
“Leap,” she muttered to herself. “Go. Now.”
* * *
Trial By Fire 12
Once again, Gwynne found herself inside the lady’s cottage, kicking herself internally for not having positioned herself within Dundurn’s walls upon her return.
“What have you brought back?” the woman in black asked her.
Gwynne rifled through the canvas bag, pulling out pill vials.
“A bunch of things: bottles, and a lot of them, from the looks of things,” she said, “and he gave me an article about the various cures. I think if I’d stuck around he would have read the whole thing out loud to me.”
“That’s excellent work,” laughed the woman. “You are resourceful. And all of that without shifting, I take it?”
“Yep,” said Gwynne proudly. “But now I need to get to Ygrena. It’s ridiculous that I can shoot myself forward in time but I’m not clever enough to pick the location.”
“Patience, my child. You will gain control one day soon. You are new to it all.”
“You know a lot about me for someone I never met until a few days ago,” said Gwynne.
“I know a great many things.” The woman led her outdoors. “Now, go. Use the antibiotic I mentioned earlier first. If that fails, try the others.”
“Thank you, I will,” said Gwynne. “But there are other sick humans. I may not have enough.”
“We will find more if needs be. I, like you, am resourceful. Now go.”
Gwynne headed outside, peeled off the clothing that the woman had given her and shifted. She grabbed the bag between sharp teeth and took off to fly back to Dundurn.
On her approach she saw a few birds in the distance. Eagles, she guessed. But they were too far away to get to her; too far away, she hoped, to identify her drake. A good thing.
For now, she considered herself a secret weapon, and one who would remain in hiding for some time.
She began her descent into the courtyard, the dire wolf shifters below her, some in their animal forms, others human, each moving out of her way. Many of them had never seen a drake until that moment. The creatures, as far as they’d been concerned, were a myth; figures from tales told during their childhoods, not animals that actually roamed the earth. And yet here was one, occupying the body of the woman who had come into their lives from the future.
Gwynne, who had been so perplexed by the shifters in her early days at Dundurn, was now the greatest source of confusion and fascination.
She shifted as she advanced towards the interior of the castle, her naked form hot, glistening with sweat from her exertion. She could feel the blood in her cheeks, invigorating her. Could it be, she wondered, that I’m beginning to like my déor?
A smile crept across her face as she went.
A guard threw his cloak over her shoulders when she entered the hallway which led to Ygrena’s quarters.
“Thank you,” said Gwynne. “Tell me, how is she?”
“Not so well, my lady,” the man said.
“Fetch me some water. I’ll see what I can do for her. Go quickly,” said Gwynne, feeling suddenly like a nurse. Somehow the role suited her.
When she opened the door to her servant’s room, she found Hallam still at Ygrena’s side.
“My lady,” said the courtesan softly as Hallam stroked her damp forehead.
“Ygrena. I’ve brought you modern medicine. It should cure you.”
“I’m not sure that anything can, my lady. I know how many have died. I know that it may be my time.”
Gwynne knelt beside her, opening the bag as the guard rushed in with a cup filled with water. “I am sure that it’s not,” she offered, “and that you will be well. I won’t let anything happen to you. There has to be some damned advantage to time travel.”
The guard raced back in, carrying a pitcher of water and a wooden cup, which he filled and handed to Gwynne.
Ygrena smiled weakly, her eyes lighting up a little with hope. Could this be? So many had been killed by the awful disease, and yet here was her lady Gwynne, her mistress, the woman who had shown her such love and respect. If anyone could heal her, she was the one to do it.
“Hallam, help her to sit up,” said Gwynne as she opened the first pill bottle after reading its label. “Ygrena, I need you to take a sip of water with this. And,” she added, looking again to the guard, “she’ll need some food. Bread, fruit, whatever you have.”
“Very good, my lady.” The man ran out again.
Gwynne handed Ygrena the pill, which she swallowed with a large swig of water.
“Good,” said her mistress. “Every twelve hours I’ll be back to give you more. And Hallam, you let me know if anything should happen. If her condition worsens, particularly.”
“Of course.”
“Now rest, my friend,” said Gwynne, rising. “You should get some sleep now, and let the medicine take effect. When you can, eat some food.”
“I will.” Ygrena took Gwynne’s hand. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Gwynne smiled down at her. “I told you—I won’t let anything happen to you.”
She had become a protector.
* * *
Trial By Fire 13
A tired cwen walked back to her room, not feeling so much like the queen that her title denoted and more like an ordinary woman, spent from a day trying to be someone greater than she was. Dressed only in the loose cloak that she’d been given, she found herself too tired to care. She’d lost her self-consciousness in the light of the day’s events; all that mattered was saving Ygrena’s life.
When she arrived at her hallway she greeted a guard who stood at attention as soon as he saw her.
“You,” she said. “Would you please fetch me the medic, and quickly? And please send someone to fix me a bath.”
“Of course, my lady.”
She had recently requested that one of the iron tubs be brought to her room so that she didn’t have to go elsewhere to bathe. This suited her nicely, as she could take a hot bath as she relaxed by the open window, allowing fresh air and the scent of the sea to waft in.
She closed the door, removed the cloak and washed herself briefly at the basin on her dresser before slipping the garment back on. Gwynne wished that she’d had the forethought to steal some bath gel from the apothecary when she’d been in Trekilling, but after all, that had been far from a priority.
When the medic arrived, Gwynne told him what had happened.
“I have drugs,” she said. “Medicine, I mean. If I must I’ll find a way to acquire more. But meanwhile you need to distribute what I don’t need for Ygrena to the other patients. Remember to keep your face mask on and to keep the patients isolated. Is that clear?”
“Yes, my lady,” he replied. Gwynne had a hard time discer
ning whether he was impressed at her knowledge and the authority in her voice, or disgusted at being offered instruction in no uncertain terms from a woman.
But she didn’t care a bit.
The man took what she offered and left without another word. Gwynne had only to hope that he would be responsible with the distribution of the antibiotics.
* * *
A few minutes after the medic had left, there was a knock on her door.
“I hear that you had quite a day,” said Rauth when she opened it.
“I was expecting the men with bathwater, but you’ll do,” she replied, smiling. “Yes, you might say that my day was something else. Apart from the various medical crises, I shifted. And flew. Even more than that, I moved to my own time and back with some control.”
“That’s good, I suppose,” he said. It was difficult to read his expression; once not so long ago, he would have been angry with her for leaving the castle. But there was no arguing with a woman who could turn herself into a fire-breather. “And how do you feel now about your drake?”
Gwynne turned to look out the window, moving slowly towards it. Her eyes took in the sky and the cliff’s edge in the distance, and beyond that, the ocean.
“My drake is, I suppose, a part of me and always will be,” she said, turning back to Rauth. “Quite honestly I don’t care to access it—her—too often. I’m not like you, Rauth. I’m not animalistic.”
Rauth approached her, raising a dark eyebrow. “I beg to differ,” he said, a hand sliding up to her neck. “You are quite an animal when you want to be.”
He lifted her head and kissed the white of her collarbone as Gwynne allowed herself a smile. The dire wolf shifter’s playfulness often relaxed her.
“You know what I mean,” laughed Gwynne. “You’re a warrior. I’m not. I’m a woman who likes to take care of people. Not to kill them.”
“All right, fair enough,” he said, looking into her eyes. His thumb stroked her cheek. “I know that it wasn’t easy for you, what you did. To Kapral.”
Gwynne looked towards the ground.
“I know that I was only defending my life,” she said. “But I felt myself take his from him. It was awful.”
Rauth put his arms around her and pressed her to his chest.
“You know,” he said, “You will be a good mother to our offspring. Yours and mine, and Lachlan’s.”
“Thank you.”
“You the caretaker. We the providers. The protectors. The instructors.”
“I like to think that I would have some say in the instructing too, you know.”
“Of course. You know that you will. You are far more knowledgeable than I am, in many ways.”
“Wow,” said Gwynne. “I never thought I’d hear those words from you.”
Rauth backed off and looked at her. “Well, it’s true and I suppose that I need to admit it. Though you will never know what I do about war, conflict. About military strategy. At least I hope you don’t.”
“I certainly hope not. I wouldn’t want to know anything of the sort, Rauth.”
“One day, though, you may find yourself wrapped up in another life and death struggle, Gwynne. And when it happens, yours may not be the only life that you protect. That is when you might know your déor in all her power.”
Gwynne understood what he meant. He and Lachlan were her protectors. But no one would protect their child as she would. She knew it, even though no child yet existed. A human mother was one thing; a dragon mother would be another entirely.
* * *
Trial By Fire 14
Lachlan arrived after a few minutes had passed, to find Rauth with Gwynne. Any animosity between himself and his cousin had been temporarily lain aside; their mate needed them both, he could tell, and he knew that Rauth could as well. Gwynne had worry written on her brow and it was to them to console her.
“Come, my lady,” he said, approaching. “Lie down with us.”
“You two must need to go off and strategize or something,” said Gwynne. “I saw eagles…” But she let herself down on the bed, her cloak falling open as she did so.
“We have men to survey for us, and to patrol, take notes of activities beyond our walls, all of it,” Lachlan was saying, “And they will fetch us should they need to. How could we possibly let you alone now, cwen?” He pulled at the cloak with gentle fingers, exposing her chest and the white of her soft belly.
Slowly he bent and kissed her just below the right breast. Gwynne sighed, recalling how much she loved the gentle tending of these two men.
A knock at the door interrupted them.
“Come,” yelled Rauth, his voice commanding. Gwynne covered herself again, wrapping the cloak around her torso.
Two men walked in, carrying large pails of hot water. They immediately proceeded to the tub and emptied them, returning to the hallway to collect more. Soon the tub was full nearly to its rim.
“Well, that gives me an idea or two,” said Lachlan, taking Gwynne’s hand. He rose from the bed and she followed suit. Rauth seemed to read his cousin’s mind; for once they were on the same page, at least.
The two shifters led her towards the vast iron tub, now the focal point of her room. As she neared it, Gwynne could see vapor rising from its surface, the inviting heat welcoming, promising to soothe her weary body.
“I believe you’re in need of help with bathing,” Rauth said. “And who better to assist than two who know every inch of that perfect body of yours?”
"You always were a cocky thing," said Gwynne, hard-pressed to feel anything other than gratitude that she'd been so embraced by these two men who were so accepting of everything within her; even the strange beast that had taken up residence.
"A curious but apt choice of words, 'cocky,'" replied Rauth, his expression filled with mischievous desire. "Come, let's cleanse you of any ills that have befallen you, my lady."
"I'm afraid that we'll have to disrobe our Gwynne, cousin," added Lachlan, his smile betraying his great pleasure. "What a hardship to be forced to undertake such a task."
With that, the two men of one mind reached over and pulled the cloak from her shoulders to reveal her naked white form to the cool of the room around her.
A stray beam of light hit in a diagonal across her body, warming her as the two shifters looked on, their arousal concealed beneath their own clothing but attempting at every turn to reveal itself in no uncertain terms.
Neither man would ever tire of this sight: the deep, delicate curves of her form, pink nipples drawing eyes to splendid, round breasts. Full hips which begged to be grasped from behind by strong, masculine hands. All of it showing off her womanhood, her softness, and a sexuality that neither man had ever encountered before Gwynne had found her way to them.
She was the perfect mate.
Each shifter took one of her hands and led her up worn wooden steps to the edge of the deep tub. She stepped in, feeling the soothing heat of the water first against her legs, then teasing the sensitive nerves between them as she eased downward. It seemed an almost deliberate reminder of the two men's silken tongues stroking her in soft caresses, a skill at which they were both expert. The memory of the sensation made her ache for them, her body tightening in anticipation, impatient for their touch. She wanted them inside her. Needed them. When she'd lowered herself fully into the water, Gwynne looked at her lovers, her body relaxing as she took in their expressions of hunger, of greed. Yes, this was where she belonged. Of course it was. That she had ever doubted it now confounded her.
Lachlan was the first to move, reaching a hand forward to cup the water and allow it to drizzle down her left breast, a droplet gathering on the hard tip of her nipple, which displayed itself just above the rippling surface of the liquid.
"How beautiful you are, now and always," he said softly, as if in reassurance. She had changed, yes. But in his eyes she was the woman he'd adored over the course of centuries. Nothing could ever make her more--or less--desirable.
&n
bsp; Even watching his fellow shifter, his kin, inside her filled him with pleasure. Watching her writhe and buck under his touch was almost enough to bring Lachlan himself to a state of ecstasy; her enjoyment was everything. And all he wanted in those moments was to let his tongue slide along the tender flesh that lay apart from Rauth's, neglected; to taste her, to enhance her experience. To make her come in waves, again and again.
This was love, lust and eternal desire in one.
"She is a lovely sight for sore eyes," said Rauth. "And we will show her this day and night just how important she is to the both of us."
Gwynne reached hands to her left and right, water gently lapping at her sides in the wake that her motions had left, and pulled at the leather ties which stood between her and the shifters' naked forms. Their loose pants dropped to the ground almost in unison and she laughed, filled with sheer delight at the sight: two hard cocks directed at her, asking tacitly to be tended.
And it was only a matter of time before they--and she--would be satisfied.
* * *
Trial By Fire 15
Gwynne stroked the two thick shafts as the men peeled their tunics away and tossed them aside. Her fingers wrapped around each hard cock, grasping with a delicate firmness. For a few moments she observed her actions as though outside of her own body, enthralled, before leaning to her right to lick the slit of Rauth’s cock head, her tongue protruding enough to be certain that Lachlan could see her actions from where he stood. In her left hand she felt his length twitch slightly as though to say, “Please—me next. Please.”
She turned to him then and offered the same treatment, her lips caressing him lightly as the large man groaned with pleasure. From her right side a hand came down to stroke her nipple, dipping in and out of the water to wet her as it did so.
Sought by the Alphas Complete Boxed Set: A Paranormal Romance Serial Page 19