Taken by Storm V3

by Cyndi Friberg

  “Yeah, no kidding.” She looked at Vee and did her best to smile. “When will the Symposium report their findings?”

  Vee just shrugged. “Sometime before the dawn. The TSC convenes on the morrow and I will give a full reporting then.”

  “The TSC knows her identity?” Tal asked.

  Vee shook his head. “I would never make such an announcement without Shar Lott’s permission.”

  “Then on what are you reporting?” Tal challenged.

  “My plans for engineering a ship that will be more easily maneuvered through the interdimensional portal. This will cause less of a power drain on the Mystics.”

  “Are you making this up?” Charlotte asked.

  “No.” Vee chuckled. “But the proposal is little more than a concept. The council will be far more interested in learning about you.”

  “Let me know what the Symposium discovers,” Charlotte said. “And we’ll take it from there.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” Vee bowed and walked off down the gallery.

  “Your Majesty,” she repeated, amazed by the wonder of it all. Three months ago, she’d been worried about the bar exam and now she was poised to inherit a world.

  But did she want to inherit a world?

  Partnership in a law firm would have been enough for me.

  “It is the correct address for the High Queen,” Tal said. “You had better get used to it.”

  She took the end of his coiled hair and wrapped it around her hand. “I don’t know if I can. I’m not sure I’m the right person for this job.” She paused, looking deeply into his eyes. “I think we better talk about what happened in the library.”

  “I’d rather make love to you.”

  Her body heartily agreed but Charlotte focused on the remnants of her fear and frustration. “I want that too, but we can’t pretend it never happened.”

  “Yes, we can, and unless you wish to rekindle our argument, I suggest you do.”

  His hair uncoiled and slipped off her hand. Charlotte nearly lost her nerve. Did she really want to start this all over again?

  “I don’t want to fight with you,” she whispered. “I need you now more than ever. All I want to say is that I need the opportunity to study all of the Clarifications. If I’m to have some sort of governing role in this world, I have to understand its evolution, the forces that shaped it. I can’t blindly offer my allegiance. I trust you, Tal, but you are not exactly objective when it comes to Ontarian politics.”

  A smile slowly bowed his lips and Charlotte released her pent-up breath. Thank God.

  “May I assist in your studies?” His mischievous tone made her laugh. “I promise to continue with my present objectivity.”

  “Oh, I just bet you do.” She scooted closer to him and his hair circled her wrist. “Actually, Vee said you would be the perfect person to answer many of my questions.”

  Charlotte downed the remainder of her blish and looked at Tal expectantly.

  Tal gently took the mug from her hand and set it aside. He had never seen her this disconcerted. “You need to know what to expect tomorrow and you don’t need to be battling the aftereffects of blish.”

  Lifting her feet to the chair across from her, she rested her head against the wall and recited, “The TSC is the primary governing body for the Traditionalist Sect. They consist of twelve members, six of whom are elected to their positions every five years, and six who inherit and hold their positions for life. The elected terms are staggered to maintain a balance of fresh thinking and experience. If the council is split down the middle on any issue, the prefect decides the matter.”

  “And who is the prefect?”

  “The prefect is the eldest female member of the House of Aune. Because there are no female Aunes, thanks to the House of Joon, the current prefect is your father.”

  “Correct.” The indifference with which she rattled off the information grated on Tal’s nerves. He revered and cherished his lineage. To do otherwise devalued the sacrifices made to protect the sacred traditions.

  She turned her head and looked at him. “Do you think they’ll try to make me prefect?”

  He recoiled from the aversion in her tone, his hair tightening to the point of pain. His jaw clenched and his nostrils flared. “It is the highest honor on Ontariese. Why would you hesitate if that is their intention?”

  “Honors are earned,” she said emphatically. “I’ve done nothing to deserve any of this.”

  “You are the daughter of—”

  “You thought I was human until just a few weeks ago.”

  “I believe you are more prepared for this meeting than I thought,” he said stiffly.

  She heaved a frustrated sigh and strode to the gallery’s high stone railing. For a tense moment she stared out into the night then she angled so she could see him.

  “I don’t want to fight with you. I definitely don’t want to fight about this.” She paused for a moment. “I was raised in a country that celebrates individual achievement and free enterprise. We broke away from our parent country because of tyranny and hereditary power. We’ve always fought for freedom. Why should a person or a family have ultimate control over half a planet simply because of the luck of birth?”

  He felt each word like a slap. “It is far more than the ‘luck of birth’. Each member of my family is prepared from childhood for the responsibilities awaiting them. We are educated and trained, cultured and conditioned.”

  “Which makes me completely unsuitable.”

  Tal had no response to that. She was right and it annoyed him to admit it.

  “Sometimes people have to agree to disagree and focus on what’s important.”

  He stood, striding slowly toward her. “What is important to you?”

  “You are.” Her voice was hushed, her gaze luminous. “We are. There has to be some compromise, a middle ground. We can’t let this destroy…our love.”

  Our love. The phrase swept over him like a healing balm. He put his hands on the railing beside her, leaning in close, absorbing her heat, inhaling her scent. “We will find this middle ground,” he said softly. “Because I will keep searching until we do.”

  She smiled and his pulse leapt in response. He wanted to crush her to him and shelter her there forever.

  “Let’s just take it a day at a time. We’ll see what happens at the meeting tomorrow and decide what to do from there.”

  “Agreed.” He gently kissed her forehead.

  “Let’s go back to your room,” she proposed in a husky whisper.

  “Let’s stay right here and enjoy the moonlight,” he countered.

  He felt her shiver and smiled against her hair. The night air wasn’t cold. His little Earth—no, the High Queen of Ontariese wanted him.

  “Someone could see us.” She moved restlessly in the loose circle of his arms.

  “I will create a privacy shield. We won’t be interrupted.” He shifted out of his boots and vest before she could protest. Her heated breath sensitized his skin, accelerating his restlessness.

  She looked down the wide gallery in either direction. They were in a secluded corner, far from any of the main entrances to the Conservatory. Still uncertainty played across her expressive face.

  “No one will see us. Relax.”

  After a moment of hesitation, she kicked off her shoes and unfastened the sash at her waist. With her gaze staring into his she pulled off her garments one by one until she stood naked before him.

  Moonlight gleamed on her flawless skin and Tal could scarcely breathe. Uncertainty sparked in her eyes and he didn’t dare to touch her.

  “Just let me look at you,” he whispered.

  Long, slender legs, softly rounded hips, he longed to explore every inch of her beckoning flesh. Trim torso and high, rounded breasts, he needed to be inside her now! He shifted out of his remaining clothing, revealing the urgency of his desire.

  “If you touch me, I’ll lose control,” he told her, his tone harsh and hoarse. “
Grasp the railing and do not let go.”

  “But I want to touch you.”

  “I know. Please, for now.”

  Slowly she did as he asked, her breasts thrust forward by the position. Tal groaned.

  He framed her face with his hands and kissed her, savoring the warmth of her mouth with deep, possessive sweeps of his tongue. She tasted of desire and woman and blish. He couldn’t get enough of her sweetness.

  She responded eagerly to his kiss but shifted restlessly against him. His mouth moved along her throat. Her pulse pounded beneath his lips. Slowly he formed a vision within his mind and gently sent it to her. His image lifted hers to the railing and spread her legs wide.

  Charlotte gasped into his open mouth, unable to resist the erotic image. “That’s cruel.” She panted. “Let me touch you and stop teasing me.”

  His hands skimmed across her breasts, down her sides, teasing and taunting until she squirmed beneath his hands.

  As if that weren’t enough, within her mind the vision shifted, progressing rapidly. His image grasped her waist and she held herself open, begging to be taken, to be filled.

  “Yes,” she groaned. “I’ll do that for you. Is that what you want?”

  He spun her around, putting her hands back on the railing.

  “Tal, please.” She shook with frustration and need. Each teasing touch only built the flames higher.

  His hands cupped her aching breasts, firmly rolling her nipples. Charlotte squirmed, grinding her bottom against him.

  “Give me your mouth,” he said gruffly.

  It was awkward but she twisted, offering her parted lips to his plunging tongue. He drank deeply, thrusting into her mouth as she desperately wanted him to thrust into her body.

  His fingers drifted across her abdomen and combed through her damp curls. She moaned, knowing what he would find. Her core throbbed against his probing fingers, desperate to have him there.

  Suddenly, he turned her again and brought them together, skin to skin.

  “I want you so badly my whole body aches.”

  “Patience, my love. Enjoy the ache. Know how much better it will feel when I’m finally inside you.”

  Her entire body flushed at the thought and she moaned. “If I make it that long.”

  Chuckling with wicked intent, he guided her hands back to the railing and sank to his knees. “Let me see if I can help you survive.”

  Charlotte shook so badly it amazed her that she still stood. His warm hands glided up her sides to cup her breasts, but again he only avoided what she wanted most.

  “When do I get my turn to torment you?” she murmured.

  He raised her leg to his shoulder and pressed a kiss to her inner thigh. “Not tonight.”

  She arched her back and grasped the railing so tightly her knuckles stung. He parted her with his fingers and found his target with his tongue. Charlotte barely managed to stifle a scream. Every nerve in her body suddenly aligned with that one spot. Each loving pass of his tongue sent fiery darts throughout her body. She throbbed, she ached, she burned.

  He brought her quickly to climax, ruthlessly using his carnal kiss. Her head dropped back on her shoulders, her eyes staring up at the stars. But he didn’t stop. He continued to caress her, to stimulate her until she her desire flared again.

  “More?” he asked, his breath its own brand of torment.

  “No, come inside me…please.”

  As he stood, he raised her other leg and pressed her bottom against the railing. Charlotte gasped and then groaned. The cold stone made her skin tingle, while his heat pressed against her breasts and thighs.

  “Are you sure? I could give you pleasure all night and take you slowly as we watch the sun rise.”

  Charlotte’s head swam and her heartbeat thundered as she realized he meant every word. He would do that for her. He would selflessly stave off his own pleasure and abandon himself completely in hers.

  She kissed him slowly, tenderly. “No, I need you now.”

  He notched himself at her opening but didn’t press inside.

  “See me,” he murmured. “In your mind. Come to me.”

  She visualized the metaphysical plane. He waited for her, gloriously naked and hugely aroused. A tremor passed through her body and she gasped against his mouth.

  “Oh yes,” he groaned.

  In her mind, they didn’t hesitate. They fell together to the grass and he drove forcefully into her. Charlotte cried out. She could feel him inside her body, but he hadn’t really entered her yet.

  “Not like this.” She pushed against his chest.

  He held her firmly, his hands grasping her hips. “It is who we are. It is as much a part of us as—this.”

  He thrust into her fully. Charlotte dug her nails into his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his waist.

  “Look at me,” he said.

  His eyes glowed with silver light, pulling her in, intensifying the sensations, both physical and psychic. He kept himself buried deeply within her, but in her mind, he moved and she arched to meet each thrust.

  “Don’t deny who you are,” he whispered. “Glory in it.”

  Their images bucked and writhed. She felt the movement, the friction—the frenzy. Her image grabbed his and shoved him over onto his back. She quickly straddled his hips and sank down onto his thick length.

  Tal laughed and pulled nearly out of her. He mirrored each of her forceful movements, taking her as she took him.

  Charlotte could no longer distinguish between the physical and metaphysical sensations. He cried out against her mouth and the pulsing rhythm of his climax triggered hers. Pleasure rippled through her, stealing her breath, focusing her entire world on their joining and the utter completeness of this moment in time.

  * * *

  The twelve members of the Traditionalist Sect Council faced Charlotte across the gleaming horseshoe-shaped table. Vee stood at her side. Tal, Trey and Dro Tar occupied the front row of the observation loft, which was crowded with curious Ontarians.

  Directly across the table sat Roe Aune, Tal’s father, prefect of the TSC. His shoulder-length hair combined various shades of brown and orange, but his eyes were the same smoky gray as his younger son’s.

  They had exchanged a quick greeting before the session. He had been pleasant if a bit cautious, but he was all business now. His deep voice rang with confidence and authority.

  “The motion to officially recognize the identity of Charlotte Layton has been passed and entered into record. To forego any confusion, let it be said, Charlotte Layton is the biological daughter of E’Lanna dar Aune and Frim dar Joon. Her birth name was Shar dar Aune, but at the request of said person, she will continue to use her Earth name.”

  Charlotte straightened the jacket of her navy-blue suit. She’d learned on her first visit to Frontine that the nondescript uniforms worn at the Conservatory were not the fashion standard for the entire planet. So Tal had conjured the outfit this morning, combining images from her mind with the Ontarian penchant for asymmetrical drama.

  “Do you have any objections or anything to add?”

  It took a moment for Charlotte to realize Prefect Aune was speaking to her. “No, sir. Master Vee has shown me more than enough evidence regarding the identity of my parents.”

  This was the easy part. She agreed with everything he’d said—so far.

  “According to the Standards, the eldest female member of the Royal House of Aune is due certain rights and privileges,” Prefect Aune continued. “Have these been explained to you?”

  “To some extent,” she responded. “Though I have read through the Standards, I haven’t had the opportunity to study them in any detail, and they’re quite extensive.”

  He waved away her concern with an abrupt gesture. Charlotte’s eyes narrowed and she caught her hands just before they tightened into fists. What an arrogant jerk.

  “It’s not necessary that you comprehend the Standards in their entirety. You merely need to understand t
he portions directly pertaining to you.”

  “I respectfully disagree with you, sir,” she said to a chorus of muffled gasps. Her gaze never left the prefect’s face. “The rights and privileges outlined in the Ontarian Standards only pertain to me should I choose to—”

  An eruption of activity clamored outside the chamber door, drawing everyone’s attention. The chamber doors burst open and a small army barged in. Tal suddenly stood beside her. He extended his arms toward Vee’s, forming a Mystic shield all around her.

  “How dare you!” Lilt dar Joon yelled over the cacophony of scrambling feet and outraged protests. His men fell into position around the room, their movements concise and deadly.

  “How dare you?” Prefect Aune shot back. “And how the hell did you get your thugs past the amo-detectors?”

  “Not every Mystic on Ontariese is sympathetic to the Traditionalist Sect, you old windbag,” Lilt sneered.

  For every Joon soldier pointing a pulse-rifle at a council member, there were two TSC guards aiming back.

  “Oh, this is charming, gentlemen.” She stepped out from behind Tal and Vee. Tal grabbed her arm but Charlotte was beyond caution. “What are you going to do? Blow each other’s brains out? What will that accomplish? The sects will appoint new leaders—but the war will ramble on.”

  “If you are who I’ve been told you are, this meeting is just as relevant to the House of Joon as it is to the House of Aune,” Lilt snapped.

  He hadn’t put much thought into his strategy. From his unkempt hair to his messy clothes, he revealed the rashness driving his decisions.

  But he was right about one thing. He should have been informed. “I agree,” she said to another chorus of outraged gasps. Did they practice unison reactions at these council meetings? “Have your buddies stand down and take a seat.”

  The military posturing continued for a moment longer then Lilt raised his hand and his soldiers lowered their weapons. Fury burned in Prefect Aune’s wildly spinning gaze. Charlotte couldn’t tell if she had incited the anger or if he simply couldn’t stand being this close to the enemy.

  “I disagree. He has no place here.” His cultured voice reduced to a snarl.