Rule (Roam Series, Book Five)

by Stedronsky, Kimberly

  Giggling, I tied the long, matching silk robe securely at my waist. “Okay, ready.”

  The guards at the door began to follow us, but Will held his hand up in dismissal. “Please- stay. Thank you.”

  The soldiers bowed, both echoing their acknowledgments. I followed Will down another flight of steps, and in minutes I could smell the food. My stomach growled in approval, and as we entered the empty, shadowy kitchen, I made a beeline for what appeared to be a cookie jar.

  “Please have chocolate chip, please have chocolate chip…,”

  “Nutrition, Eva. Cookies are not nourishing.”

  “Uh-huh,” I wrestled the lid off of the jar, yipping with joy and plucking a chocolate chip cookie from the stainless steel canister. “I’ll eat this while you find us something nourishing.”

  I climbed to the counter, perched next to the cookie jar, and took an enormous bite. He raised his eyes in amusement, walking over to me slowly. He stopped, flattening both hands on the countertop, next to my legs.

  Covering my mouth to protect him from an inevitable crumb-spray, I lifted my eyes. “What?”

  “You make that cookie look like there is nothing else to eat- in both worlds.”

  “Mmm,” I rested the back of my head against a cabinet, sighing dreamily. “Milk would be awesome right now.”

  Rather than turning to the refrigerator, he took another step closer to me. “I may have reached my limit of what I can take from you, this night,” he murmured, and his affected voice made my eyes pop open.

  I scowled. “Hey.”

  As he lifted his hand to trace my jaw, I swallowed hard, nearly choking.

  “Oh… you mean that in a nice way.”

  “I mean that… in the nicest way possible.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m taken. See?” I held my left hand up, wagging the at-least-ten-carat diamond in his face. “And my husband? He’s kind of a king. So, hands off, buddy.”

  “This husband of yours…,” he exhaled against my earlobe, and I felt the cookie slip from my fingers and drop to the countertop. “How do you feel about… him?”

  “Oh, he’s not just a king… he’s handsome, and kind, and-…,”

  “No. How do you feel about him. In here.”

  I inhaled sharply as his mouth lowered to my chest, just over my thudding heart.

  His lips spread over my skin, his tongue tasting, pressing, and I rolled my head against the cabinet, murmuring something incoherent. His hand slid up my side, over the silken nightgown, his thumb coaxing my hardened nipple to rise against his touch. My mind was racing, reacting to his ardent assault.

  How do I feel? About him?

  “Will,” I gripped both sides of his face, pulling him up and away from my chest to look into his eyes. “You have to know how I feel about you. I’ve only known you… for two days. But I’ve imagined you… for seventeen years.” His jaw scratched against my fingertips, and I closed my eyes, sighing contently. “You’re better than anything I could have ever… dreamed. You make me… forget what I was thinking about, when you look at me… like that.”

  He wrapped his hands around my wrists, pulling them away from his face. Flattening my hands beneath his palms, he pushed me back, over the granite countertop.

  I could have easily escaped from his firm hold (not that I wanted to) until he took an impossible step forward, his hips pressed against my knees. His sky-blue eyes searched mine, and I struggled for air, relaxing my legs. He moved between them, the stretched nightgown pinning my legs to the counter.

  “I will not kiss these lips… yet,” his mouth lingered over mine, his bottom lip catching my top so lightly, I wondered if it had even happened at all.

  I have definitely never felt like this before… I am floating. Needing. I held my breath, using all of my restraint to resist crushing my lips to his.

  “But tonight I’ve decided that… I will. Someday.”

  Fire. Everywhere. “When, Will?”

  Smirking, he shook his head. “You are unexpected, little one.”

  He released me. I fell back against the cabinet, my usually-insatiable appetite suddenly nonexistent. “Come. It is time for you to sleep. I’ll arrange for food to be brought to you.”

  I nodded at his gruff voice, still unable to form words. I knew he was aroused- I could feel him against my leg- but he was using every ounce of control that he possessed to pull away.

  He moved efficiently in the kitchen, retrieving a tumbler and opening the refrigerator. In seconds, I held the glass of milk in my hands. After two quick drinks, I placed the glass in the sink.

  He led me silently up the stairs. Once we were back in his room, he extinguished the dying candles, gesturing to the bed. I crawled beneath the sheets, and he pulled the blanket over my shoulders. “I’ll sleep on the settee. Close your eyes, love.”

  “Lay next to me.”

  “Absolutely not.” He stretched out on the sofa, and I cringed to see his long legs hanging over the arms.

  “Will, you’re so uncomfortable.”

  “Hush. Sleep.”

  I sighed, gazing at him through the darkness. His features, cut against the silhouette of moonlight, drew my unending attention. I want to sketch him. I want to trace each one of those lines in his neck, and the cords in his throat.

  I shivered, turning over to face the other wall.

  Sometime in the middle of the night, I sat up, screaming and digging beneath the blankets for my legs. The horrible, recurring nightmare that I’d had since I was a small child left me panting, lost in the darkness.

  “Eva,” Will’s voice, so close, and his arms around me. I moaned, shaking as he gathered me to his bare chest.

  “I was swimming above- the bright light and- these invisible things with sharp teeth were biting me,” I lifted my fingers, staring at the sticky blood in horror.

  Will shoved the blankets aside, his eyes widening in the moonlit shadows. “Good God,” he ran his fingers over my thigh, lifting his horrified gaze to mine. “Something… bit you…,”

  “I usually heal… but I’m mortal,” I watched him rush to the bathroom, returning with a wet washcloth and a dry towel.

  He worked to clean the inside of my leg, and in the end there were two small puncture wounds on my inner, right thigh. After cleaning them and bandaging them tenderly, he rolled my nightgown down over my legs.

  I lay back on the pillows. He started to turn for the couch, but I caught his wrist. “Please stay.”

  He focused on me for long seconds before finally slipping into the bed next to me. I found a comfortable place in the curve of his arm, my face pressed against his bare chest.

  Chapter Eleven

  The sunshine streaming through the open window coaxed me from my dreams, and warm, fresh air tossed my hair over the pillow.

  “Your majesty, you’ve done it,” Freckles did a spin near the window with her hands clasped over her heart. I thought only cartoon characters did that. “It is safe to walk in the sun today. His majesty has just announced the readings. Thank you,” she hurried to my bedside, reaching for my hands. “Thank you for coming here.”

  “You’re welcome,” I murmured, my raspy voice forcing me to clear my throat. “How many suns are there?”

  “How many?” She sounded baffled. “Why, only one, your majesty.”

  Relieved, I pressed my face against the pillow. Still just a halo. “What is your name?”

  “Yvette.”

  “Yvette, please just call me Eva.” I yawned, rolling over to my stomach and pressing my face into the cool pillow. The sun does feel so good. After spending so many years in North Carolina, I was definitely a sun and sand kind of girl.

  “Your majesty, allow me to help you to bathe,” she skirted my request, her words turning sympathetic.

  “I’m good at bathing myself,” I answered, wincing as I tried to sit up. The remnants of my recurring nightmare came rushing back to me, and I held my hand over my thigh, cringing.

 
“Are you in much pain?”

  “Pain?” I turned my face, watching as she drew the covers back.

  Blood… my blood…

  Bloodied towels, bloodied washcloths, bloodied nightgown.

  Freckles turned a sickening shade of pale, and I forced a quick, broad smile.

  “Oh… oh, no… he was… so very gentle. He’s just- really big. You know what I mean.” I gave her a vulgar wink, and her shocked expression was well worth my completely inappropriate comment. Realizing the bed was empty, I sat up, glancing around. “Where is he?”

  “His majesty attends to business this morning. You are to join Eric in the atrium.”

  “Who?”

  “Eric,” Yvette busily retrieved my robe from the arm chair. “Weaponry?”

  She gestured to a folded piece of paper near the bed, and I sat up, reaching for the document. “His majesty has written a letter. He asked me to read your schedule to prepare you for the day.” Her cheeks reddened.

  Grinning, I scanned the letter.

  Good morning love,

  I have detailed your schedule. After last night’s events, I’m sure that you will need much rest today. When you are ready, please meet Eric in the atrium for weaponry training.

  I am counting the moments until I see you this evening.

  Do try to eat more than cookies for breakfast.

  Yours,

  William

  I glanced at Yvette as she pulled the sheets from the bed. After last night’s events… counting the moments… yours…

  Love.

  My head firmly lodged in the clouds, I somehow found myself standing in a domed, outdoor range, half-listening to Eric’s lecture on an assault rifle I’d never seen before.

  “…locked with a rotary bolt… two lugs that fit into these recesses milled into the receiver… your majesty, are you listening?”

  I drug my thoughts away from Will’s broad, tanned shoulders, turning to Eric. “Of course. Eric, this is just like a Galil. An Israeli assault rifle… in my world. Well, this one in particular is more like the SAR, which is just a carbine variant. Where’s Will?”

  Eric stared at me, a lazy smile spreading over his face. “Preoccupied, your majesty?”

  “Give me this,” I reached for the rifle, and he handed me the weapon without a word. “This trigger mechanism determines how you want to fire. This rifle fires in three positions- repetition, which is semi-automatic fire, fully automatic fire, and if you push the level fully forward,” I pushed the apparatus into the forward position, “it activates the safety. Can we learn about… something cool? Like a flail or a mace?”

  Eric took the rifle from me, raising his eyebrows. “How are you with a bow?”

  “I’m okay with a cross bow, but I’ve never tried a long bow.”

  “Excellent.” He gestured toward a building near the edge of the range, and I lifted my eyes as the giant dome began to mechanically retract. “This is the first time we’ve been able to open the dome, during the day, in over a year. It’s very good to have you here, your majesty… for many reasons.”

  “Just Eva. I get titles and respect and all of that, but you’re Will’s best friend. I’m okay with informal.”

  “Eva, then.” Something about his sardonic smile reminded me of Liam. I sized him up in one unfair glance, carrying the rifle with me. “You can leave that here-…,”

  “I still don’t have a sidearm. And honestly, my instincts are telling me something’s up with you.”

  He stopped in midstride, turning to me. The sunlight streamed through the dome, onto the Astroturf-like grass. His eyes, tawny in color, reflected back at me with amusement.

  “You don’t trust me?”

  “Should I?”

  He looked up at the sun, and then back down to me. “If I tell you more about myself, would that ease your mind?”

  “That depends. If you have some kind of dark past, I’m kind of not in the mood today. I just want to keep things light.”

  He chuckled, and I grinned at the flush that brightened his cheeks. He is less intimidating when he laughs. “I am very… direct, Eva. If I explain what I am, you may not understand, or believe.”

  “I am the queen of a mythical kingdom. You can pretty much say anything and I won’t be surprised.”

  We arrived at the building, and he pulled the large doors open to reveal a surplus of bows in many different sizes, shapes, and styles. He turned to me, and though he wasn’t as tall as Will, he still had to bend to touch my shoulders. “Hold your arms out…,” he ran his fingers down the tops of my arms, gently taking my wrists in his. The rifle dangled awkwardly from my right hand. “Palms forward… there… I’d say the twenty pound bow.”

  I shivered at his touch, taking a step backward. Never had I felt lightheaded in my life, not even the two times I’d fallen to my death. Now, I was unbalanced, pulled toward Eric in an unexplainable, magnetic way. I thought of the other two times he’d touched me, once to lift me to the horse when I’d first arrived, and the second when he pulled me into the men’s bathroom to lecture me on my wedding night.

  Something is wrong with his touch.

  “Are you magical?” I demanded, lifting the rifle at him. “I need answers. Everytime you touch me, I feel like I’m going to faint. And I don’t faint.”

  Again, that smirk returned, and I glared at him. “You are affected?”

  “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  “No, no… what I mean is…,” he held his hands up defensively. “Allow me to explain.”

  “Will says he trusts you, so I’m going to lower this rifle. But- please know that I can protect myself without a weapon.”

  “I will not hurt you, Eva.” He shrugged, as if my threats were as common as rattling off a grocery list. “I am a selkie.”

  “Well, I am a Perry, and I don’t trust anyone unless given a reason.”

  Still grinning, he looked down. “Do you know what a selkie is?”

  I stared blankly.

  “I come from your land,” he leaned against a wall of hay, crossing his arms. “While waiting for your mother to be born again, Troy spent much of his time combing your world for… creatures… to build his army here. I was a child when he found me.”

  “Creatures?” My fingers twitched over the rifle. Mythical creatures... damn it! Why didn’t I pay attention to my dad’s rambling lessons? “Like in Greek mythology?”

  “I am Icelandic, of the Faroe Islands. Here, on land, I have been given a human form. However, I come from the sea.”

  “You’re a freaking merman?”

  “Not at all. I appear… as a seal, in the sea.”

  “So, you’re a seal.” I threw my hand in the air, shaking my head. “Great. Just great. I have no idea how to fight a seal. Thanks Dad.” His shoulders shook, and I scowled at him. “I’m glad you think this is funny.”

  “You do not have to fight me, Eva.” He angled his head, his dark blonde hair catching a gust of wind.

  “Troy was just a man, right? An immortal man, I get that, but how did he wrangle up mythical creatures without possessing magic?”

  Eric gestured toward the castle. “He tortured spells from your grandfather. For centuries.” He kept his gaze firmly locked in mine. “Eventually, the old man’s powers grew weak.”

  I thought of my grandfather’s washed, pitiful stare, and had a quick, indulgent daydream about tearing Troy’s head off with my bare hands.

  Just then, Eric’s eyes caught the light, and I nearly dropped the rifle at my feet.

  “Your eyes change colors… they were brown when I first met you, and then yellowish-brown a few minutes ago… and now green?”

  He turned away from me, reaching for a long bow from the wall. “You affect me.”

  “I affect you? Is that Icelandic-seal talk for ‘I have a crush on you?’”

  Eric stepped behind me, and I stiffened, my lungs stalling. “Perhaps you shouldn’t flatter yourself, either.”

  I felt th
e heated flush crawling up my chest and neck, burning my cheeks. His breathy laughter, near my ear, only infuriated me further. “I’m done.”

  “So quickly?” He stepped back, shaking his head. “I’ve given you more credit than you deserve.”

  “Give me the bow.” I yanked the longbow from his hands, dropping the rifle to the bale of hay at my feet.

  “Wait-…,”

  Drawing the arrow back, I carefully aimed at the target across the building, releasing the arrow. The point reached the center of the target just as the pain in my hand registered in my mind. “Goddamnit!” I dropped the bow, gripping the flesh between my thumb and palm. Blood surfaced and trickled down to my wrist.

  “Hold still,” he yanked his shirt off in seconds, wrapping my hand in the soft, white material. The multiple tattoos across his muscled shoulders and chest drew my attention, most of them symbols of water and astronomy.

  “Seriously? Did you booby-trap my arrow just so you’d have the chance to take your shirt off?”

  He held my hand steady, and I cringed. “Did you know that your nostrils flare when you’re angry?”

  Scowling, I moaned. “It’s burning… it won’t heal,” I realized, my heartbeat doubling in panic. “How do I fix this? How do I-…,”

  “Calm yourself,” he pressed the side of his hand against my cheek, and I backed against the bale of hay, searching for my bearings.

  Letting the dizzying euphoria of his fingers on my skin filter through my brain, I tilted my head back. Every muscle in my body relaxed, and my breathing labored beneath the myriad of pleasing sensations coursing through my veins. “Stop... touching me…,” I whispered.

  “It’s just a small scrape. If you’d listened to me, you’d have avoided this,” his chastising voice, almost musical to my ears, forced me to recline against the hay.

  Watching his eyes change from green to gold to a frightening black-brown, my mind and my words lost their logical connection. I reached for his face, unable to speak, but pleading with my eyes for him to put his body on mine.

  “Enough of this, your majesty,” he pulled his hand away from my face, and I sobered almost immediately, sitting up and backing away from him.