The Golden Dynasty f-2

by Kristen Ashley

  Then, with Tunahn snug in the crook of Lahn’s arm, his other one snaked out, wrapped around my waist and he gently turned me and pulled me and Isis back so we were resting against his solid bulk.

  Once there, instantly Isis latched on and started to suck.

  I closed my eyes as my milk flowed, nourishing my child with my husband’s strength supporting me and all this slid through me like silk.

  I relaxed and cradled my daughter to me. Lahn’s fingers stroked my side soothingly. Tunahn continued to fret.

  “Our son will be greedy,” Lahn murmured and I smiled.

  Like father like son.

  “Maybe, in future, Tunahn should go first. Isis seemed content to wait,” I suggested.

  “Me,” Lahn replied. “He took more of your womb and pushed out first. He must now learn patience and sharing.”

  This was true, the taking more of my womb part. Tunahn was a healthy little bugger. Isis was dainty in comparison to her brother.

  “Okay, Lahn,” I said softly, “you know how to build a warrior.”

  “Mm,” he murmured and that slid through me like silk too, “and I look forward to learning how to spoil a princess.”

  Man oh man.

  Oh man.

  I couldn’t stop it and didn’t try; I rested my head on his shoulder and turned it so I could press my temple against his neck. At this, Lahn held on tighter.

  When Isis was done, it was Lahn who executed the impossible maneuver of exchanging babies and held Isis and me again while Tunahn fed (he latched on immediately and sucked hard – definitely greedy and knowing what he wanted – therefore definitely his father’s son).

  I fell asleep in the middle of it, temple to my husband’s neck, son in my arms and woke up later to a dark room, my nightdress tied over my breasts, my body sheltered against the chill under the strong safety of my king’s.

  “Sleep, my Circe,” he murmured, his arm around me tightening. “You must regain your strength.”

  “Where are the children?” I asked in a drowsy voice, my eyelids drifting up and down, wanting to adhere to his command at the same I wanted an answer.

  “In their beds, where they will always sleep. This is our bed, my golden queen,” Lahn replied, my eyes drifted closed but before I drifted away, I heard him finish on a murmured afterthought, “Unless my golden Isis is troubled. Then she will have her father.”

  I floated away thinking, oh man.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The Resurrection

  Six weeks later…

  “Circe! I just don’t know what to do with you!” Diandra cried, staring at me with unconcealed impatience and I lifted my hand to cup the dark head on top of the tiny sleeping body strapped to my chest.

  “Diandra!” I hissed, “Shush!” My eyes slid side to side around the bustling marketplace me and my posse were wandering through. “You’ll wake Tunahn or people might hear.”

  I heard a slight giggle and my eyes moved to Sabine who was standing very close to Zahnin and also by Narinda who had Isis strapped to her chest over her own little baby bump. Then my gaze moved through Claudine, Nahka, Anastasie, Oahsee, Char and Vuntus who quickly looked away, pressing their lips together, turning their dancing eyes and feigning avid interest at a stall that held a variety of leather straps men could wear across their chests.

  Diandra got close to me and laid her hand on mine on Tunahn’s head and she hissed back, “I do not want to disturb your little warrior but I do not care if people hear! This cannot go on.”

  At Diandra’s not-so-gentle questioning, I had hesitantly just shared with her (and my posse) that even after the touching scenes after our children were born, things had not changed between Lahn and me.

  This was mostly because I was caught up in suddenly being a mother of two in a primitive world and deciding, even if I had slaves who could not wait to get their mitts on my babies, this would be hands on.

  Not to mention, considering I was nursing them both, and Tunahn seemed to want to feed continuously, I had no choice for it to be hands on.

  Therefore, I was exhausted, constantly running around and had one or two children in my arms (or attached to my body) almost all the time. Even half the night. And when this wasn’t happening, I was trying to catch up on sleep or bolting down food because nursing made you ravenous.

  So I didn’t see my husband a lot, partly because I was busy and partly because I was doing my all to avoid him (thus wandering the marketplace with my posse and the many walks I would take with my kids to be amongst my people and to work off my baby weight) because when he was with our kids, especially Isis, the way he doted on her (and both of them, really, but early warning signs showed Princess Isis was going to be Daddy’s Little Girl) sent that warm sweetness through me so strong, sometimes it was a wonder I kept my feet.

  And this didn’t take into account the way he doted on me.

  Dax Lahn was proud of his family and he made no bones about it. As he would be mostly because I dug my heels in his shoulders as payback in the heat of the moment. I’d forgotten that my Mom’s Mom had been a twin and I’d researched this ages ago to discover what it might mean to my future and found it was the woman who was genetically predisposed to carrying twins.

  So it was my fault-ish, or, more accurately, my boon.

  I did not share this information with anyone and therefore everyone was crowing their Dax was not only mightiest but also the most virile, seeing as his other powerful sword sired two children on me. They had no idea it was me who was predisposed to it and released two eggs his swimming warriors could fertilize. They wouldn’t get it even if I tried to explain and, it must be said, Lahn himself seemed pretty freaking pleased with the results of our union so I didn’t have the heart to explain.

  This was all also, I was not admitting to myself, my defense mechanism against a husband who had injured me deeply but whose unrelenting sweetness was healing a wound I had stubbornly refused to allow to heal.

  But now, I had forgiven him and I just didn’t know how to tell him that. And the tables were turning. The longer I procrastinated, the more it was becoming less a matter of me telling him I forgave him and more me needing to be forgiven for my delay in letting my savage brute off the hook.

  Why did I always do this?

  God, I was so freaking stupid!

  And now, because I was stupid, about three weeks ago Lahn’s sweetness started to hold an edge of impatience, that edge grew, spread, built and honed and now it was long and very sharp, like the side of his sword.

  Yes. So. Freaking. Stupid.

  “The Dax is in a foul mood,” Diandra snapped, pulling my attention from me being stupid back to her pointing out the results of my stupidity, “and this foul mood might come home with him but it also spreads and, being the Dax, when it spreads, it spreads far and it spreads wide. I can assure you that if he shares his frustration with you at home, you can take this a hundredfold at how he shares it with his warriors and anyone close enough to receive the lash of his tongue.” She leaned into me. “I can assure you of this because Seerim told me that King Lahn is surrounded by an aura of black and everyone, be they warrior, trainee, free man or slave, is giving him and his aura a very wide berth.”

  Oh man.

  Being Diandra, she kept at me. “And, I would say, that Dax being Dax Lahn it is a good possibility that lash might graduate to the tip of a whip or the edge of steel should you carry on much longer holding your grudge and withholding your charms. The man is practically begging for a challenge or some reason to unleash some of his impatience on someone and the only thing I know is that someone will not be you.”

  Oh man!

  Before I could even open my mouth, she kept right on going. “What I’d like to know is, are you willing to be responsible for one of the trainee warriors not buffing his saddle to a deep enough shine and having his back opened up for this perceived mistake?”

  No. One could say I didn’t want that, like, not at all.<
br />
  Though I was surprised Lahn had his saddle buffed. I didn’t think a savage brute would care about something like that.

  “No, Diandra,” I whispered and my hand curled tighter on my son’s head because, really, I was so… fucking… stupid!

  Her hand dropped but she didn’t move out of my space.

  “I understand, my dear, after you told me how he reacted to your being who you are and where you’re from… the words he said, how this would mark you. Words make marks deeper than fists; they last longer and sometimes never go away. But The Eunuch told you Dax Lahn stopped at nothing to bring you home and when he got you here, to keep you at his side. And I saw the fear...” her eyes narrowed on my face when mine widened, “oh yes, my dear, I didn’t miss it when you were delivering upon him your children and he thought you would be lost to him in a way no magic could bring you back.” She sucked in breath then kept right on going. “I love you, my beautiful friend, my golden queen, you know I love you dearly, but this has gone far enough. I know with the instances you and I have shared that you find it difficult to speak to those you love when you feel you have done them wrong…” Jeez, freak me out, she totally knew me. “But I also know that you are our warrior queen, your heart is as fierce as it is warm, and that you can pull up the strength to find the words to mend wounds and find forgiveness.”

  Her hand came back to mine at Tunahn’s head and her eyes looked deeply into my own.

  “Find words, Circe,” she urged gently. “Mend the wounds in your marriage, forgive your husband and let him forgive you. Do it for you, for him, for your wee ones and, by the gods, for us all.”

  I bit my lip.

  Then I looked through my posse.

  Then my eyes lifted and, one by one, caught Zahnin and Bain’s.

  Zahnin tipped his chin up. He’d heard. He agreed with Diandra.

  No surprise there.

  Bain grinned. He’d heard. His thoughts were already beyond the hard part and getting to the good stuff.

  And one could definitely say I missed the good stuff.

  So no surprise from Bain either.

  I shook my head at Bain then dropped it and Diandra took her hand away as I rested my lips against my son’s fuzzy head.

  Then I heard a flurry of movement, my head came up and my hand left Tunahn’s head to wrap an arm protectively around him as I saw Zahnin detaining a young boy with his big hand wrapped tight on his shoulder.

  “The Dax commands his golden queen’s attendance. It is urgent. She is ordered not to delay,” the boy, out of breath from his run, rushed the words out.

  Oh shit.

  My eyes went to Zahnin to see him jerk his chin at me and then he moved as commanded, that is to say, without delay. My posse fell in and Zahnin took point, Bain took rear as we hurried through the marketplace and the streets of Korwahn up to Lahn and my house.

  We all barely crowded through the door before I stopped, shocked to see Lahn standing, arms crossed, legs planted, face set in granite, in the courtyard. Beside him stood a woman who had to be older than time. Her hair was all gray, wiry and there was a lot of it shooting everywhere around her head, down her shoulders and chest. She was even more stooped and wrinkled than Twinka, who stood just behind her and Jacanda stood behind Twinka.

  “Take the children, now,” Lahn barked, my body started at his tone and Twinka and Jacanda jumped forward (Twinka, by the by, still did not like me and still did not hide it but she freaking adored my kids, so much I had to keep an eye on her because I swear, the crazy slave would spirit them away in the night if I didn’t).

  Twinka went to Narinda and Jacanda came to me, both moving to untie our wraps and take the children as Lahn kept issuing curt orders.

  “The rest, go. Now. I want no ears.” His eyes sliced to Twinka. “The children will be cared for in your quarters, do not enter this house until you have my leave,” he jerked his head at Twinka who nodded and rushed away with Isis, Jacanda with Tunahn on her heels. “Zahnin,” Lahn finished, “you stay to escort the witch out when she is through.”

  I blinked at the crazy-haired, stooped woman to see she was studying me and she had the skin and probably used to have the hair of a Korwahk but her eyes were bright blue.

  Weird.

  And she was a witch.

  Weirder.

  I didn’t know what to do with that. What I did know was that whatever she was doing here, Lahn did not like.

  I didn’t think this was good.

  My posse filed out. Zahnin took his place inside the front doors. And Jacanda and Twinka were long gone with Tunahn and Isis when Lahn dropped his arms and stalked into one of the rooms on the bottom floor which was kind of a living room but then again they all were, seeing as they all mostly just had rugs and cushions except the room that had a dining table.

  When the witch and I followed, he slammed the door after we entered the room and wasted no time turning, planting his legs, crossing his arms and barking, “Deliver your message to my queen.”

  My head jerked and I looked from my husband to the witch.

  “You are Circe Kaye Quinn?” the woman asked in Korwahk.

  I opened my mouth to answer but Lahn got there before me to bite off, “She is Dahksahna Circe, the true, golden warrior queen of Korwahk.”

  The witch nodded to Lahn, a small smile tipped her lips and her eyes came back to me.

  Then she lifted her hand, reached into a fold in her sarong and pulled out a folded piece of rough-edged, brownish-yellow parchment.

  Then my heart leaped and my head got light when she announced, “One week ago, I fell into a trance and a message was delivered upon me by your father.”

  “Oh my God,” I whispered, my hands clasping and coming up to my chest as my eyes stayed glued to her.

  “It is in a tongue I do not understand. I wrote it down as I heard it and I will share it with you that same way. He expects a response and I have moved quickly through Korwahk to give this message to you for his spell has bound me and I am not at my own free will until I provide your reply.”

  “What did he say?” I asked and she nodded, unfolded the parchment and started speaking in halting English.

  “Circe, girl, this is your father. I’m guessin’ you’re gettin’ that I’m leavin’ you there for your own good and the good of my grandbaby. That asshole ain’t treatin’ you right, you tell whoever gives you this message and we’ll move heaven and earth to find a way to bring you all home. He is, you tell her that too and I wanna know my grandchild’s name. And he isn’t, you tell him I’m gonna find a magical way to kick his warrior ass. But I got all the hope in the world that you’re happy, darlin’. I love you, Circe girl, and I always will.”

  I clenched my teeth and swallowed as I closed my eyes.

  “I can assume I know what ‘asshole’ means,” Lahn remarked tersely and my eyes flew open.

  He’d heard the message before, he’d understood it and that was why he was pissed.

  Shit!

  I opened my mouth to say something but Lahn got there before me, barking at the witch, “Leave now. My wife will give you her reply tomorrow. Come back after the sun begins its descent.”

  She nodded, reading his mood (which was hard to miss) and got the hell out of there.

  The door barely closed on her when I started, “Lahn –”

  But I didn’t finish. This was because he lunged toward me, grabbed my hand in a tight grip and dragged me out of the room.

  I was running to keep up with his long, angry strides and he was already at the stairs before I got myself together to cry, “Lahn! What on earth?”

  “Quiet,” he growled.

  Uh-oh.

  Perhaps Diandra was wrong. Perhaps Lahn wasn’t going to find someone else to receive the sharp edge of his impatience. Perhaps that someone was going to be me.

  He went straight to our room, pulled me in so hard I went flying in five steps when he released me. He came in after me and slammed the door behind
him.

  Uh-oh again.

  I lifted a hand and started retreating as he started advancing.

  “Lahn –” I whispered.

  “Eight months,” he clipped and I blinked.

  “Wh… what?” I stammered as I kept backing up and Lahn kept advancing.

  “Eight months, my queen, I have not taken a woman.”

  Oh my God!

  I blinked again and in the nanosecond of that blink, this news hit me like a shot.

  Oh… my… God!

  My eyes stayed glued to him as my heart started beating fast.

  I hit bed, skirted it and kept retreating.

  Then I whispered, “Really?” and he jerked his chin up.

  Then he spat, “Really.”

  Oh man.

  “Uh…” I mumbled, liking this, hating this (mainly because I wasn’t giving it up to him as I should as his wife and the woman who loved him), being thrilled by it and feeling massive guilt at the same time.

  I hit wall and slid to the side, hitting corner and sliding down a new wall as he stopped and slowly turned his big body to keep facing me.

  “My Circe told me it was important to her…” he leaned in and his eyes narrowed, “crucial,” he hissed, “that I use my body on no one but her. So I have used my body on no one but her.”

  Oh… man.

  My heart stopped beating fast and started thumping faster.

  “Lahn –” I whispered.

  “But she withholds from me.”

  Oh shit.

  When I’d cleared him, I came away from the wall and started to back toward the door.

  Lahn came at me again. “She withholds her xaxsah. She withholds her golden honey. She withholds her claws. She withholds her spirit. And, since she bore my children, she withholds even her time.”

  “Uh…” I mumbled again.

  I hit door and didn’t even get close to finding the knob. Lahn moved fast, I was up, across the room and on my back in the bed, Lahn on top of me. I was winded, his face was in my face and he was beyond furious, he was seriously fucking pissed, him and the brutal, golden spirit that was shining in his eyes.