“Why would I do that, cut off my own memories?”
“You tell me?”
“I don’t know!” She stared at him with desperate eyes, like she blamed him for the entire thing.
All he wanted to do was get some food and sleep, but time was running out and he needed to know who this woman was and what secrets she had hidden from herself—and from him.
“This isn’t going anywhere.” He rubbed his face, more tired now than when they’d started. “We need to get someone else—someone who understands memory spells. Let’s get some food and some sleep and we’ll head out tomorrow.”
Her shoulders went back as if she were getting ready to do battle. “Tomorrow? I need to know now. Besides, where will we go?”
“We’ll head to the Golden Court, like we’d planned to do earlier. Maybe the Oracle will know. If not him, there’s bound to be someone.”
“No. I don’t want to go there.”
He stood up, trying to get his irritation at her attitude under control. “Why not? Is there someone there you remember?”
A shadow crossed her face. “I just know that when you talk of the Golden Court I get—” She stopped talking and pressed her lips together.
“You get what?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“We need answers. And now that I’ve seen what the queen is capable of, I need reinforcements.”
“There must be someplace else to go for help. You said you were on a quest, who gave it to you? Won’t they help?”
“It’s complicated.”
“I shared with you. Now, don’t you think it’s time you shared with me?”
He should. By the grace of Danu he should. But, as he started to open his mouth to explain, the words just wouldn’t come out. He didn’t serve her. He didn’t have to explain that his time was running out and his life was on the line. Or that he needed her.
He stood up. “We go to the Oracle tomorrow and find out why the damned lodestone didn’t work and if anyone at the Golden Court can fix your memory.” He grabbed her sleeping bag, and tossed it at her.
She stood too, barely catching the bag. “And if we don’t?” She glared at him, the sleeping bag awkwardly dangling from her arms. “I have a bad feeling about this, I don’t think we should go.”
“A bad feeling? I’m the one in charge of this quest. I’m the one who rescued you. You can’t even remember if you’re a lady of the courts, or just a serving girl who ended up on the wrong side of a spell.”
She backed up, almost tripping on the crate behind her, her eyes shiny with what he suspected were tears. “Screw you, Mr. Knight in Shining Armor. You might think you’ve rescued me, but I didn’t need rescuing like this.”
“Maybe I should have just left you there.”
“Maybe you should have.”
He didn’t know how to deal with this. She looked vulnerable, like the ice crystals in the Winter Palace, but he knew that ice was cold. He resisted the temptation to go to her and see what was wrong. He hardened his resolve. No matter how vulnerable she looked the odds were she was just another woman who would take advantage of him and then shut him out.
He found his cloak and put it on. “Get some sleep.” And, knowing he was being stupid and pushing her away despite the fact that all he wanted to do was sweep her in his arms and tell her everything would be okay, he strode out the front entrance to the cave.
Outside the familiar bright lights of the northern sky winked at him, almost as if they mocked his efforts to get his life back into some semblance of order. And why shouldn’t they?
He’d done nothing but crash and burn since leaving the Winter Court.
All he’d wanted was a second chance—a place in Prince Kian’s court where he could prove himself. But now, according to Aoife, the prince had taken a month off Ardan’s shot at any kind of position.
If Ardan returned without the queen’s head what were the chances of him getting anything besides a death sentence? Not high. Not with his nemesis, Bosco, standing right beside Kian whispering poison into the prince’s ears. Were both men waiting for him to return with the queen’s head? Or were they just waiting for him to fail?
And Aoife. First she’d helped him, but now...he didn’t know whose side she was on. She’d given him the idea that he could take on the Black Queen, but now that he’d seen what he was up against he had to wonder—had Aoife known he was in no shape to deal with the power she had?
He turned back and looked at the narrow entrance to the cave. No one would ever know it was here, not with the spells he’d put on it to hide it. It was his last place of refuge, an emergency shelter. But here he was, holed up with a woman with no memory, who might be his last chance.
Or, given his track record with women and the way he wanted her—she might be the one thing that brought him to his knees.
Chapter Thirteen
Thorn tossed and turned, the confining sleeping bag acting like a straight-jacket around her shoulders. She missed a real bed. Missed pillows and quilts, and space to throw her arms out. She didn’t even know how she knew she missed any of it, but she did.
Ardan came back into the cave. He paused by her bed and she lay there, regulating her breathing and pretending to be asleep. She half-hoped he’d call her bluff, but after a few seconds he moved on, leaving her feeling stifled and frustrated and wishing he’d noticed she was really awake.
Listening to the sounds on the other side of the cave as he got settled into his own sleeping bag—soft rustles, the sound of a zipper—she curled tighter on her side, the hot press of her conflicting emotions her only company. He didn’t trust her but he expected her to trust him—to tell him everything. She didn’t remember much but she knew in her bones—trust should go both ways.
Once his breathing evened out, she slipped out of her sleeping bag and lit a small globe, half-shielded on one side so she wouldn’t wake him up. Donning her boots and jacket she tiptoed past his sleeping form to the front of the cave.
The door was protected by a force field, but as he’d said, she was more powerful than he was and he’d put it up to keep things out, not in. She parted the spell like a curtain, and easily slipped between the lines of power.
Outside, the air was crisp with coming snow. A sliver of new moon lit up the branches of a few pine trees and scattered bare bushes. Compared to the forest in the south where they’d been, the landscape here was vast and empty. Fall had come and gone here and it felt like the beginning of winter. There was very little grass, mostly some spongy, dried turf stretched across the frozen ground, and nothing to see for miles but empty land and steep white-tipped mountain peaks.
She looked up at the tiny slice of light in the sky. “Moon, mountains, snow.” She pointed to them and named each one, looking back up at the virgin moon. “So, goddess in the sky, who am I? Why is it I can remember you but I can’t remember me?”
Not expecting any answer she pulled Ardan’s leather jacket tighter around her slumped shoulders. Did anyone care about her? Was she really this alone?
“You’ll remember. I know it.”
She turned. Ardan’s figure was only a dark blur against the black mouth of the cave.
She shook her head. “I’m not so sure. We tried so hard tonight and all I got was the memory of a lost little girl.”
“That’s more than you had.” He came out of the shadows. The moon reflected off his crystalline irises, sparking silver lights in the dark. He’d thrown a fur-lined cloak over his long tunic and carried a thick quilted blanket. “Do you know how much I’d give to forget some of my memories? To start fresh without the pain and loss?”
“Is this starting fresh? I have no money. No home. Let’s look at what I do have.” She ticked them off on her fingers. “I have a Gift that’s missing, an enemy I don’t even remember, and I’m on the run with a man who won’t tell me why.”
He reached for her hand.
She moved away. As much as she wanted co
mfort, as attracted as she was to him, was it wise to seek it with this man? “We’re not friends, Ardan. We’re only traveling companions. You’ve made that clear.”
Something like regret flickered over his face.
He sighed. “You’re right. I’m an idiot.” He spread out the blanket on the frozen ground and sat on it. “Come here.”
Thorn eyed his extended hand. She could take it, and maybe things would progress between them. She wanted—no—she needed to be held. But he didn’t trust her, and she didn’t trust him. Instead, she sat down, leaving a large gap between them.
“We’re not so very different, you and I. Neither of us has a home or a place to go. We’re both alone. I’m running out of money and time.” He stared at the sliver of moon, a faraway expression in his eyes. “I’m nothing but a soldier who betrayed his queen because she’d already betrayed me. My only choices are to leave Underhill forever, or find and kill the Black Queen. And where would I go if I left? Even though there’s no place for me now, this is still my world. I’ve never lived anywhere else, and I have no desire to.”
“If you find and kill the queen, what is your reward?”
“At best, a place in her son’s court as a hero and a soldier. At worst, they’ll spare my life and send me on my way. No matter what, if I bring back her head I’ll be a free man. But if I fail...” His mouth tightened and he shook his head. “If I fail I’ll be worse off than you. At least you’re free to choose your destiny.”
She reached out and took his hand like she’d been wanting to since he’d come outside and offered it. It was warm and large and when he wrapped it around her smaller one, it gave her some sense of permanence. Even if only temporarily.
“What happens if you don’t bring the prince the queen’s head?”
“I’ll be sentenced to death. They’ll put a price on my head, and knowing Bosco, it will be substantial.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “You see, I’ve made enemies, too.”
His eyes were dark and serious, the silver going almost white in the frail light of the moon. His lips were firm and chiseled, his chin well-defined with a character that belied his traitor past. He was just as lost and alone as she was. Suddenly the world seemed very large and cold, and Ardan was the only anchor in that world.
She didn’t need him to promise tomorrow, he couldn’t anyway. All she needed was to feel like she belonged here. Ardan was warm and strong. He could do that, he could make her feel like this world was the right one and she had a place.
She leaned up. “Kiss me.”
There was a spark of heat in his eyes. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve nothing to lose, soldier. Do you?”
His mouth twisted. “To lose? No. Not me.”
She scooted closer to the heat radiating from him. “Then kiss me.”
“As my lady wishes.” He leaned down and their lips brushed.
Arousal rushed through her. “More,” she commanded and opened her mouth, pressing closer to his large warm body.
His tongue swept in, taking her away from the hard ground and the frigid night air. He lifted a hand and brushed her cheeks, pushing her hair back from her face. For the first time since she’d woken up, she knew exactly what she wanted to do next. She wanted him to save her, if only for a little while, from the fear and anxiety of never knowing who or what faced her. Who or what she really was.
She got on her knees. “Not enough. I want more.”
Keeping her hand imprisoned within the cage of his own, he pulled her onto his lap. She snuggled close, centering her pelvis on his hard-on.
“How’s that?”
She wiggled, loving how the feel of him pressing against her center sent waves of desire thrumming through her bloodstream. “Much better.”
He kissed her again. His mouth was warm and wet and she held him close, digging her fingers into his shoulders and taking as much of him in as she could possibly take. Heat rushed through her and she closed her eyes. She was connected to him, hand to shoulder, mouth to mouth, thigh to thigh—and the connection shot through her with hurricane force.
She swore she’d never been like this with him before, but somehow kissing Ardan felt right, maybe the only right thing she’d done over the past two days.
Ardan slid her jacket off, tossing it to the side and kissing down her collarbone. She arched back, pushing her breasts at him. He hesitated. “Are you sure this is what you want.”
Frustrated, she gave a little growl. “Didn’t you say, ‘As my lady wishes’?”
He nodded.
“Well, this is what I want. Now, soldier. Take what I’m offering.” She gathered the sides of her shirt and pulled it off. The frigid air hit her exposed breasts and she shivered, her nipples puckering fast and tight.
He groaned. “Vixen, you don’t know what you’re doing to me. Are you cold?”
“Of course I am.” She tilted her shoulders back, showing him her tightly furled nipples. “Now share that cloak and warm me up.”
He laughed. “Yes, my lady.” He wrapped his cloak around them both, encasing them in their own fur-lined tent. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had someone want me enough to tell me what they need, so tell me, my lady—what is it you desire.”
A thrill raced through her. She hadn’t had any control since she woke up, but here she was the one in charge, and it felt fabulous.
“Take me away from all of this. Kiss me and pleasure me and give me something I can remember.”
His gaze went hot. “As you wish.” He bent his head and took one hardened nipple in his mouth, rolling it and heating it and giving it a tug. He gripped her hips and began to move her, rocking her softly over and over and she hung on to his shoulders every tiny movement sending tremors into her core.
Thorn let out a sound—half-moan, half-cry—and buried her face in his hair as he worked her nipple until everything built into a frenzy and she whimpered into his hair. “I want you.”
He lifted his head and stared at her. His breath was coming as fast as hers and they breathed together, each taking warm air from the other. The look in his eyes was intense, as if he wanted to know everything about her and could pull it from her with just his gaze.
And for a fleeting moment she wished he could. Wished he had the power to draw every ounce of who she was simply by staring into her eyes and drinking in her soul.
She reached down between them and cupped his erection in her palm, rubbing him through the tent of his tunic. “Take me.”
He groaned and lifted her from his lap, setting her to the side. “I can’t do this.” His breathing was coming hard and fast. “You don’t even know who you are, let alone who I am. I’ll be taking advantage of you.”
Even tucked under the corner of his cloak it was cold without him.
“I know enough.” She stroked his face, feeling the outline of his cheek and mouth under her fingers. He leaned into her touch as if desperate for more and she wanted to give him more, so much more. “I know you rescued me, even when you didn’t have any idea who I was, or if there would be repercussions. I know you fought for me, against the thorns and again against the queen. And I know you’re willing to help me find myself, even so far as going into and against the barriers in my mind.”
She traced his mouth, learning the shape of his firm upper lip, and the dip down to his chin. “You didn’t know if there would be a trap when you did that, and yet you’ve tried to help me again and again.” She dropped her hand to the bottom of his tunic, moving it up above his waist. He was naked underneath and she let out a breath at the sight of his hard length rising up in the moonlight.
“I can’t remember who I am, Ardan, but I know what I want.” She slid her hand onto his cock and squeezed.
He gasped. “You seem to remember something.”
She laughed and it released her inside in a way she hadn’t known she’d been holding back. She squeezed again and went down on him with her mouth. He shuddered, the feel of his pleasure vibrating
through her like a chord through a tuning fork.
Every move she made she knew exactly what to do—from taking him in her fist and moving her hand up and down, to what pressure to apply. When to lean down and lick the salty taste off his tip, and when to pull back. Everything about this was right and it sent confidence rushing through her.
“I want you, Ardan. Are you going to continue to say no to me?” She gave his cock a small lick and glanced up. His silver eyes went molten and it rushed through her. For the first time since she’d woken up, she felt powerful. And she wanted more.
INDECISION HELD ARDAN still. Thorn’s eyes challenged him to take up the gauntlet she’d thrown down. She’d made it clear she wanted him and he wanted her too. The way she sat, breasts gleaming under the thin light from the new moon, her hand wrapped around his erection, had him aching with desire.
He’d slept with a few women since his days with the Winter Queen, but most of them were passive and left him wanting something more. Not Thorn. Her decisive moves and determined orders triggered in him a lifetime of pleasing dominant women in bed and made his cock ache.
He’d come to know her in the last two days, even if she didn’t know herself. He’d seen the way she stood up to the Black Queen as if she were her equal. He’d peeked into her past and seen a childhood of privilege. The way she spoke, with both her words and body language, told him—she was a woman used to command—and that excited the hell out of him.
But it also scared him too. And he wasn’t a man used to being scared.
He’d known powerful women. He was the discarded toy of the Winter Queen, one of the most powerful women in Underhill. And when she’d discarded him, he’d nearly broken. Was taking this moment worth the risk of breaking again?
“Well?” Thorn took in a deep breath. Her exposed breasts moved up and down.
Her nipples furled tight with the cold, so pink and tempting—it was all Ardan could do not to give in and do exactly what she wanted. What he wanted.
Bespelled: A Fae Fantasy Romance (Fae Magic Book 5) Page 9