And there were also the Fir Bolg. The Tuathan’s enemy for thousands of years had made the Dark Forest their sanctuary. Any Tuathan lord or lady riding into the forest did so at their peril.
They reached a low tumble-down wall and rode around it, stepping between fallen rocks and into a wide sunny glade filled with a wild chaos of flowers, trees and bushes. As soon as they were inside the perimeter, a tiny cottage appeared, white with brown trim, the front windows nearly lost under the beetled brow of a grassy thatched roof.
“Come out, come out, and play with me.” Buttercup sang, growing as she sang until she was nearly three feet tall. Magic flew out on the words, turning the sounds into bright colors that danced on the air.
From around the glade, fae of all sizes sprang—some so small they would fit into his closed fist, and some just as large as a small man. Some had wings and some didn’t. Two women the size of toddlers, with long narrow faces and high slanted cheekbones, chimed at Thorn and flew up to greet her, hovering in the air next to the horse. One wore a bright green skirt formed of leaves nearly the color of her skin, and nothing else but a necklace of tiny acorns adorning her flat chest. The other had giant bluebells for a hat and dress, and eyes the color of bright morning skies set in pale blue skin.
The women’s voices were so high and shrill he had trouble making out their calls, but they were excited to see Thorn. They tangled their hands in her hair and around her waist and pulled her off her perch on the saddle. She let go of him and went, laughing as she tumbled to the ground, the beating of the fairies’ butterfly wings slowing her fall.
He sent out his Gift, scanning the area to be sure the area was clear. There was a great deal of wild magic, but none of the black taint he associated with the queen. It didn’t make him happy to be here, but he could find no excuse not to dismount.
“Ardan, this is Mischief and Twilight and they say we can stay in the house as long as we want.” Thorn’s face lit up with joy. “Yes, I’m starving. I’d love to eat.” She smiled at the small fae. A shiver wracked her body. “But maybe I could get dry first.” The green woman, Mischief, flew away. Twilight beckoned Ardan with a graceful gesture of her blue hands to a round stump of a table with two matching stumps for chairs.
He looked around, still unwilling to relax his guard in such company. “I’ll walk the perimeter first and set a shield.”
“You are perfectly safe here, soldier.” Buttercup gave him a mocking frown, shaking her little head at him. “But you go do what you need to do and we’ll take care of our thorny rose.” She laughed, taking Thorn by the hand and leading her into the cottage.
Ardan’s stomach sank as he watched them go, but Thorn seemed to have no qualms. He wanted to protest, they should stay together, but Thorn was so bedraggled, everything from the fabric of her nightdress to her red curls was sopping with water, that he let her go without complaint.
He loosened Triton’s girth and took off his bridle. Hanging it on the pommel, he left him happily ripping large chunks of thick green grass from the ground. A crowd of fae followed him as he made his way around the inside of the low stone wall.
It was like being followed by a crowd of children—dangerous children. Some were dressed, many were naked, but all of them watched his efforts at security with sly amusement in their eyes, jeering at him as if his efforts were foolish. After he’d walked for fifteen minutes and still hadn’t come full circle, he looked back, but the cottage was gone from view, having disappeared leaving only a few bushes and trees.
Alarm made him stop in his tracks. The wall went much further than he’d thought. He hadn’t realized he’d be leaving Thorn and Triton so far behind.
“You’re wasting your time, boyo. You could walk all day and still not come to the end. Our walls go as far as time.” A fairy, dressed in a camouflage of greens and browns with brown skin the color of an acorn, walked up to him. His hands rested on his hips, just above the petite sword and knife hanging at his side. “You, sir, are a guest in our kingdom. You may rest here, in this sacred place in peace. As may your lady. I’ll not warranty the rest of the forest, but here, you are safe. You have my word.”
Ardan couldn’t laugh at the sincerity in the little man’s fierce stare. “Thank you, my lord.” He gave a half-bow. “May I be able to return the favor someday.”
The fairy’s eyes grew wide and he bowed deeply from his waist. He straightened and looked Ardan directly in the eye. “I will remember that, sir.” A wash of cold power flowed over Ardan and the ground shivered beneath him as if he’d sworn a magical vow. The whole group of fairies about him stilled. Then, as the magic faded they burst into chiming chatter again. Even after the magic had gone, Ardan was left with the chill of knowing he’d promised more than he’d intended.
He bowed back and retraced his steps to the cottage. Thorn was just emerging from the cottage.
The fae had somehow dried her thick curls and piled the mass on top of her head, lacing it with ribbons and the buds of pale lavender roses. A few errant red strands curved around her face. She was dressed in a gown of sheer purple gauze, with a low scooped neckline that showed off the tops of her breasts and the deep cleavage between. The skirt dropped from a high waistline, and the fabric was so thin that, between the full folds and ripples of the fabric, he could see the buds of her nipples and the shadow between her thighs.
Ardan swallowed hard.
He’d told himself he should leave her alone, it was what was best. But seeing her now, none of the reasons he’d decided that came to mind.
“Is there something wrong?” She reached up and touched her hair. “Did I miss something?”
“No.” His voice caught on the word and he had to cough and clear his throat. “I think you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
Her fair skin flushed a deep red and for once he read uncertainty in her eyes. “Thank you.”
He wanted to tell her more.
That he’d grown up with women who were lovely on the outside, but cold as ice on the inside. That her warmth radiated through him until the frost that had been in his soul threatened to melt and swamp his heart. That, just as she’d come through Aoife’s spell to save him, endangering herself—he’d do anything for her.
But before he could open his mouth and say something that would endanger the walls he had built around his heart, Buttercup came dancing across the grass.
“My lord and lady, would you join us?”
Thorn must have seen his words in his eyes, because she hesitated before turning to the fairy. “Thank you. We’d love to.”
“You, sir, can leave your armor and weapons in the cottage, if you would like. We’ll be dancing all night and chain mail does not make good dancing wear.”
He’d like nothing better than to take off his armor and relax, but it seemed every time he trusted someone of late, he was betrayed. And despite the rugged soldier fairy’s promise of safety, he still couldn’t relax. Not here. Not when the Crone was still after Thorn and he had no idea of Aoife’s next move.
“No thank you,” he said. “This has been a dangerous few days. I think I’ll keep the chain mail on.”
“As you wish.” Buttercup smirked at him. “But you’ll change your mind when the music starts, they all do.” And she led them to a wide stump set as a table, with two smaller stumps for seats and set with tiny acorn cups and plates made from leaves. “You may rest here and we’ll bring you some supper.”
Someone pulled out a violin, and another a pipe. Soon the glade in front of the cottage was a whirl of dancing colors on the ground and in the air. Fairies perched in the branches above, tapping their fingers and nodding their heads. Ardan found himself humming along. He gave himself a little shake. He didn’t dare let down his guard.
Mischief brought them tiny acorn cups, and a pitcher of something sweet and sparkling. “Plum wine?”
He nodded and she poured wine into his acorn cup, then she waved her hand over it and it grew to a norma
l size. She did the same with Thorn’s cup.
“Food will be out soon. We’re so happy our little rose is here.” She beamed and kissed Thorn on the cheek. “You should have stayed with us, child. You would have been so much safer,” she chided. She leaned back to Ardan and confided, “We were afraid she wouldn’t make it to adulthood, you see.”
Before either of them could ask what she meant she flew into the air and whisked away.
Ardan raised his acorn cup. “To our fairy friends.”
“To our fairy friends,” Thorn echoed, raising her own cup and tapping it against his. There was a score of cheers around the glade.
He took a cautious sip. The candy-sweet plum wine burned like fire and left a sparkling fresh flavor on his tongue. “That’s surprisingly good.” He took a larger sip and the potent liquor heated his blood.
Thorn giggled. “Well sir, here’s to plum wine and acorn cups.” She took another drink, her eyes sparkling at him over the rim.
Feeling suddenly more at ease, he gave her a wink, rewarded by another of her giggles and a saucy wink back. As the heat of the wine flowed through him he relaxed. He wasn’t sure why he’d been worried in the first place. Their hosts were charming and generous and Thorn was more happy than he’d ever seen her. Maybe he’d been overzealous.
They dined on a salad of fresh leaves and nasturtiums, large pieces of roasted hare in a clover honey sauce, and the crisped carcasses of some kind of bug—that he only tasted because he was being polite, but that were crunchy and salty and absolutely delicious. The more he ate and drank the drunker he got. He caught sight of Triton, unsaddled, wearing garlands of flowers, being fussed over by a flock of fae.
Sometime in the night his armor disappeared and he was wearing nothing but his pants, his chest bare in the moonlight. The music grew faster and faster and all at once he and Thorn were whirling around in a frenzy of dancing where the only thing that kept him upright was the glow in her eyes.
She’d become the center of his universe. Only Thorn mattered as the dance went on around them. Peripherally he noticed that either the fairies had grown, or he and Thorn shrank. Soon they were all the same size, spinning and twirling and howling at the stars, but all he really saw was the woman in his arms with the flame red hair who looked at him as if he were the only man in existence.
He had no idea how long the party went on, the moon rose and set and the stars spun over head, but eventually he pulled Thorn to him and they stumbled to the cottage, tripping over a passed-out fairy on the doorstep and giggling like children.
She paused as they entered the cottage. “Wait.” She broke off a chunk of the brown door lintel.
“What are you doing?” he hissed. “You’re breaking their house.”
She giggled and took a big bite. A wide smile spread over her face. “It’s gingerbread.” She sighed. “That’s why it smells so good.”
“Ah.” He broke off his own piece and took a bite. The rich molasses melted in his mouth. “Mmm, that’s amazing.” He broke off another larger piece and followed Thorn into the cottage, eating as he went.
Inside the small single room there was little else besides a bed freshly made with white linens and a chair with their clothing piled haphazardly on top, his armor in a heap on the floor. Gingerbread abandoned on the bedside table, he fell on top of the bed. The puffy down comforter fluffed around him and a laugh rose in his throat. He’d never felt so good, so right, so alive.
“Come here, woman.” He reached for Thorn.
She laughed back and fell on top of him.
He stroked a finger down the bridge of her nose to the tip. “You have a lovely nose.” He skipped to her mouth and traced the outline of lips. “And your lips are softer than any other’s I’ve ever kissed.”
“Well, sir.” She gave him a fierce pretend frown. “I’m not sure you should be talking of other lovers to me.”
“I need you to know.” He cradled her cheek in his palm. “You’re different from any I’ve ever known.” He stroked her lip with his thumb and her mouth opened. A soft breath escaped. The black of her pupils went wide, flaring with arousal that went straight to his cock.
Ardan wanted to capture it all, the heat in her eyes, the warmth of her breath, the rise of emotion in his heart, but there was no way to ever capture something so precious.
Instead, he kissed her.
He hadn’t thought it could get any more intense but with the moist touch of her mouth, everything Thorn rushed through him.
“Thank you for saving us, today.” He breathed into the kiss, unwilling to separate from her for even the few seconds it would take to speak. “You didn’t have to do that. You could have left me there.”
“I wouldn’t do that. I would never do that.” The sincerity in her eyes took his breath away.
Could she be the one? Could she be the woman who would never betray him, never put her own selfish quest for power above his love? He’d been used and hurt and abandoned before by a woman who he’d thought he’d loved. Even Aoife, who he’d trusted, had let him down.
Would Thorn be the one to free his heart?
Chapter Twenty-six
Ardan stared into Thorn’s eyes, caught on the euphoria of the moment and dangerously close to tumbling head over heels into love.
“What’s wrong?” She brushed his hair out of his eyes.
“Nothing. I just—”
Before he could try to say all the things racing through his head Thorn put a finger on his lips. “Sh. Stop talking and kiss me again.”
Her command rocked through him shaking him to the bedrock. He wrapped his arms tight around her and crushed his mouth to hers, desperate to show her how much he desired the taste of her hot mouth—the spicy taste of Thorn laced with plum wine and a hint of ginger. She balanced on top of him, elbows braced to either side, the pressure of her breasts pushing between them. Her nipples hardened through the thin gauze of her gown, teasing against his chest. A tremor rocked him.
He wanted to sink his cock deep inside her and take everything she had to give. And then take some more.
But he wasn’t ready yet. This magical night had stretched long past the time any night should last and he knew it would stretch as long as he wanted it to. For the first time, and maybe the last time, he had all the hours he needed. Who knew when they’d get this again? He was going to take every second their hosts had given them and make the most of it.
Tonight he would touch every bit of her. Savor the feel of her nipples under his hand, in his mouth, between his fingers. Taste the nape of her neck. Run his teeth down her spine, all the way to the dip at the bottom. Nip at the curve of her ass, and the tilt of her hip, and anywhere and everywhere he could reach her skin.
Passion poured through him and into the kiss. Thorn gave a sexy little moan into his mouth—and the kiss went wild.
He plundered and pleasured with his lips and teeth and tongue, kneading her back and shoulders, wanting to get closer to her than he ever thought another person could. Every shake and shiver she made got him harder, until his cock ached for her touch. Their tongues tangled, stroking and teasing each other until he lost track of how long the kiss had gone on. It didn’t matter. She tasted like no other woman. She tasted like everything he’d ever wanted.
Suddenly he couldn’t wait anymore. He was desperate to be skin to skin. Heat touching heat.
“Take this off.” Amazed that he could form words through the haze of sexual need, he tugged at the shoulder of her gauzy dress.
“You take these off first.” She ran a finger in the waistband of his pants, her touch setting sensual fire to his skin.
“As my lady wishes.” He got off the bed. She lay back on her elbows and watched him unbutton and unzip his pants, sliding them down off his hips and letting his erection spring free.
Thorn’s eyes widened. “My, my.”
She got off the bed and he cupped her breasts, feeling the weight in each of his palms. He rubbed his thumbs slowl
y over her nipples and she moaned, her eyelids dropping low as she swayed on her feet. Pleasure rushed through him.
“Now,” she said. “Take my dress off.”
He let her breasts go and turned her around, and then around again. “How does this come off? Where the hell are the buttons or laces?”
“I don’t know.” She frowned. “I don’t even remember changing clothes. One minute I was in that nightgown, and the next I was in this.” She put her hands on her hips and tilted her chin up. “So, the dress has to come off. What are you going to do about it?”
Her challenge hung between them, bold as brass and stimulating as hell.
“Screw it.” He took the dress in his hands and ripped it down, shredding the fabric with one pull and leaving her deliciously naked. They stepped into each other, his cock bumping between them, every touch making him harder until his skin ached with need.
He pulled her to him and eased back onto the bed, turning so that they fell slowly back onto the bed, again with her on top. This time the kiss was part of everything—his hands roving her body from breast to belly, dipping in to touch the wetness between her legs, and skimming back up again. Her hands stroked his arms, his neck, dipped down and lightly scratched his thighs.
A shudder tore through him and he tore his mouth from hers. “Tell me what you want.”
For a few seconds she hesitated. Disappointment filled him that she might not want to take charge. And then her lips curved up in a saucy grin. “I want to climb on top of you and have you use your mouth on me.”
He grinned back. “As you wish.” He seized her hips and pulled her up so she straddled his face, her glistening folds wide open for his mouth.
He licked, the sweet, sweet flavor of Thorn ambrosia on his tongue. With every taste of her essence and sound that she made, pressure built up inside him until it finally burst in a surge of emotion.
Bespelled: A Fae Fantasy Romance (Fae Magic Book 5) Page 16