WingsOfDesire-AriannaSkye

by Arianna Skye

  How could he refuse a challenge like that? To be honest, mind movement was a serious spell—one he hadn’t quite mastered himself. He was safe. “I am far from afraid, Maeve.” Rhiannon padded her way to him. “Mind movement?” she whispered. “What is that?”

  “The ability to move things with your thoughts.” Cerne lowered his lips closer to her ear, breathing softly against her skin. “That’s how Maeve and Bel were able to lift us from the water.”

  Rhiannon blushed. “Oh.” A hint of curiosity filled her voice. “I can’t wait to learn, so we can return the favor.”

  “I hate to admit this, my sweet…”

  Rhiannon gazed up with wide eyes. “What?”

  “I haven’t had much success with mind movement.” Cerne gave her a sheepish smile. How hard it was to admit his shortcomings.

  “What about the towel?”

  Cerne arched his brow. “What towel?”

  Rhiannon punched his arm. “The one you floated to me my last night on Earth!” By Gods, she was right. He’d forgotten. “That’s the only thing I’ve been able to move.” He’d tried to push most of that night, except for the glorious release she’d given him, out of his mind. He still felt guilty for tricking her with the kiss.

  “Well maybe you should try again!” Rhiannon said excitedly. Her confidence in him warmed him to the core.

  Maeve nodded. “I understand how much you’ve struggled with mind movement, Cerne. It’s worth a try.”

  “Fine.” He turned to Ethelred. “What would you like me to move, Your Wizardry?”

  “Move my crystal ball.” Ethelred pointed toward the amber-hued orb in the middle of the room. He leaned against his staff, showing Cerne his confidence in him.

  Cerne closed his eyes and extended his hand, pointing at the crystal ball. Clearing away all his thoughts, he conjured an image of the amber ball in his mind. He imagined the ball moving up off the stand into the air.

  Ethelred spoke in a clear even voice. “Bring it to me. Slowly.” Cerne nodded, turning his wrist. He visualized the ball floating weightless in the air toward the wizard. It couldn’t be this easy.

  “Open your eyes, Cerne,” Ethelred commanded.

  Afraid to find out where he’d sent the ball, he took time lifting his lids. Ethelred stood tall with crystal ball in hand and a smirk the size of the plains stretched across his face.

  “You need more confidence in your abilities, Lord Silverwing,” the wizard chuckled.

  “See!” Rhiannon exclaimed with glee. “I knew you could do it.” Maeve leaned against the globe stand and smiled. “You’re now coming into your powers, Cerne. Things are finally falling into place.”

  Perhaps I am. Cerne nodded and grinned. “I never thought I would master the skill. I’ve managed to impress myself.”

  Maeve chuckled. “I’ve always known, Cerne. You would never have been chosen as prince consort if you couldn’t.”

  Rhiannon gave him a disarming gaze. She rushed to him and threw herself in his arms, totally taking him by surprise. “I’m so excited for you, Cerne.” Had only one pleasure lesson changed her heart? It was almost magical.

  “Thank you, Princess,” he replied, not wanting her to find out how she affected him. He pulled away and turned to Maeve. “I think it’s the princess’s turn, don’t you agree?” Maeve nodded. “Yes, I believe it is.”

  Cerne turned to Rhiannon, a devious smile curving his lips. “Let’s see what the princess can do.”

  ~*~*~

  What the hell was she doing wrong? One moment it seemed he offered an invitation, the

  next moment he was pulling away. Well, she had news for him! She wasn’t going to give up.

  “Sounds like a challenge I don’t dare refuse.” Rhiannon turned to Ethelred who rubbed his crystal ball. “What do you want me to move?”

  Ethelred crossed his arms. “I believe we should start out light, for now, Your Highness. You can move my spell book.”

  Rhiannon raised an eyebrow. Light? The damn thing was twice as big—if not bigger—than the unabridged dictionary her parents had kept at home. Granted, it probably wasn’t as heavy as the gigantic crystal ball. It would not be easy to move.

  “Do you have anything—umm—lighter?”

  Ethelred clucked his tongue. “You are of royal blood, my dear Rhiannon. Moving the book should prove no challenge at all.”

  Cerne gave her another challenging smile. “You aren’t afraid are you?” Damn him. She returned his smile with one just as sneaky. “Far from it.”

  “Good. We can’t have a consort showing up his princess now can we?”

  “I’d be careful, if I were you, Lord Silverwing.” Maeve clucked her tongue. “She has much power she has yet to tap.”

  Rhiannon turned to Ethelred. “So where should I stand?” she asked, eager to put Cerne in his place.

  Ethelred pointed to an old set of wooden doors that appeared as if they hadn’t been open in a century or two. “Stand over there.” He then craned his neck toward Cerne. “Lord Silverwing. Go stand on the opposite side of the room.”

  “Is he involved in my lesson?”

  Ethelred nodded. “Since he has called the challenge, I find it most fitting for him to take an active role in your tutoring.” His lips curled into a furtive smile.

  “Am I supposed to stand here and twiddle my thumbs whilst Rhiannon attempts the impossible?” He winked at her and flashed a grin dripping of cunning.

  Were these men planning something? The expressions on each of their faces said as much.

  Men! She swore they always had some sort of trick up their sleeve. It was time to find some of her untapped energy and show them. With her head held high and firmly back, she strode to the doors, turned around to face Cerne, and crossed her arms. She twisted toward Ethelred. “Is this where I stand, Your Wizardry?”

  Ethelred nodded, still smiling wide. She really did not know what this ancient faerie found so damn amusing. Then again, they did have their bizarre sense of humor.

  “Good, Your Highness. You’ll simply lift the book and bring it to Cerne, using nothing but your mind.”

  “It’s called psychokinesis where I come from,” Rhiannon grumbled. “Well, where I was raised, at least.”

  Ethelred laughed. “Humans and their strange and confusing words. Mind movement is much easier to say, don’t you think?”

  Rhiannon had to agree. She’d give props to anyone who could even spell psychokinesis.

  “Well they shorten it to PK, for the spelling-challenged.”

  “Mind movement still sounds better,” Maeve chimed in. “Look at your consort. He’s growing bored. Shall we have some fun?”

  Cerne raised his eyebrow. “I’m far from bored, Maeve. I’m excited to be a part of my future wife’s instruction.” He craned his head toward Rhiannon. “It will be most interesting, indeed.” Was he deliberately goading her? Perhaps this was his way to build up her spirit. Well if that was the case, he was failing horribly. All he was doing was making her angry. It reminded her of college and the men who thought they were better than she was.

  “Close your eyes, my dear,” Ethelred said.

  Rhiannon huffed. “I know the routine.” She clenched fists and slammed her eyes shut.

  “Confident, aren’t we.” Cerne’s voice carried across the room.

  Rhiannon laughed. She never seemed the confident type—until he dragged her to Fey. “A little, I suppose.”

  Cerne snickered. “Well, you’ll need more than a little confidence to have a successful mind movement on the first try.”

  “Cerne, do not goad the princess.” Maeve chuckled. “You may end up with a very large tome hurled at your head.”

  “Enough,” commanded Ethelred. “Let the princess perform her magic.” Silence echoed throughout the room. “Now, Your Highness. Remember what you saw Cerne do. Lift the book and give it to him.”

  Easy enough, if she was as powerful as they said she was. Rhiannon lifted her hand and pointed
it at the book. She raised her hand again, willing the book to move. From the silence

  surrounding her, she doubted the book had even moved a millimeter. Feeling her confidence starting to slip, she suddenly heard the loud clang of a large object fill the room. Upon opening her eyes, she spotted the book lying wide open on the table. She turned to Cerne who lounged against the wall with his legs and arms crossed.

  “Losing confidence, my dear?” Cerne asked. She heard the sound of Maeve’s foot meeting with his shin.

  “I was expecting some words of encouragement, as you gave Cerne.” Rhiannon gave a sheepish smile.

  Maeve laughed. “You don’t need encouragement.”

  Cerne narrowed his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Maeve rolled her eyes. “It means you need to shut up and be a dutiful consort-to-be.” She turned back to Rhiannon. “Shall we continue?”

  “It’s obvious to me she needs more training,” Cerne said. “It’s hard to master.” She’d show him what was hard to master. Rhiannon closed her eyes, lifted her hand and commanded the book to rise. Confident that the book floated in the air, she flung her hand toward Cerne.

  With a loud whoosh, she felt the book zing through the air. A loud crack filled the room as she heard the book connect with what she thought was the wall.

  Until she heard Cerne’s muffled moan of pain.

  She flung her eyes open and panic coursed through her. Cerne lay crumpled against the wall, clutching the book she’d so casually—at least that’s what she thought—flung at him.

  “Great deities!” Maeve exclaimed.

  Rhiannon ran toward Cerne, her heart thumping in her chest. What had she done? Maeve stood over Cerne’s body, while Ethelred hobbled toward them. Ethelred, despite the dire situation, seemed as calm as could be.

  “Oh, my God!” Gasping for breath, Rhiannon knelt next to Cerne’s still body. His breathing was shallow and his face pale. “Is he all right?”

  “I’m trying to check.” Maeve eased his head up. She reached across to his shoulder and prodded with her fingers. The loud crack reverberated throughout the entire room. “Dear me, that did not sound good.”

  Rhiannon burst into action, pushing Maeve to the side. She took Cerne into her arms, ripped

  off his tunic and pressed firmly against his shoulder. Perhaps she could visualize healing his injuries as she’d visualized throwing the book at him. How she regretted doing something so childish. She closed her eyes and ran her fingers over the lump on the back of his head. She had to do something, she cared about him so damn much. Yes, she could not deny it anymore. She had feelings for the stubborn faerie.

  “I’m so sorry.” She hugged him close. “Please forgive me.” She closed her eyes and continued running her hands over his shoulder and neck. She centered her thoughts around his healing, and her hands begin to heat up. Rhiannon massaged and pushed her palms into his wounds, tracing her fingers against the lump on his head, and felt the swelling shrink beneath her touch.

  Cerne groaned and stirred in her arms. She brushed a lock of his brown hair away from his face and lowered her lips to his.

  “Mmm.” Cerne pulled her face closer to his. He ran his hands across her breasts, massaging her through the silky garments. Rhiannon bit her lip, feeling her nipples pebble against his expert touch. He rolled her over on her back, lowering his mouth to her neck. It was as if he hadn’t been injured just moments before.

  “Cerne,” she breathed. “You can’t!” She struggled beneath him.

  “Why not, mo cridhe? It’s not every day I awake in my princess’s arms.” He reached down to tickle her beneath her arms.

  Rhiannon struggled to keep from giggling, but Cerne’s teasing assault was too much.

  “Please,” she managed between snorts. “We’re in the wizard’s chamber.” Cerne pulled away and looked around. Rhiannon chuckled, watching Cerne’s horrified expression as he noticed Ethelred and Maeve staring at them with amused grins.

  Cerne turned to Rhiannon and gritted his teeth. “For Gods’ sakes, woman, what did you do to me?”

  “What both Ethelred and I warned you about,” Maeve replied matter-of-factly.

  His mouth fell open. “You tried to decapitate me?” Rhiannon blinked. As if she’d be that cruel. “Not intentionally. I just threw the book at you—a little harder than I’d planned.” Rhiannon took his hands in hers. “I’m so sorry.” Cerne nodded and pulled himself from her. Dusting himself, he stood. To Maeve and Ethelred he said, “I appreciate being made an object of your amusement.” He wrenched himself

  around and stalked to the door, flung it open and exited.

  Rhiannon dried her face of the tears she shed earlier and turned to Maeve. “What was that all about?”

  Maeve shrugged. “I fear we’ve overstepped our bounds. He’s had a trying day. Despite his refusal to believe his brother is dead, he’s grieving on the inside.” How could they forget his brother?

  Gods, I’m a total bitch. “I need to go talk to him.” Maeve grabbed her arm. “It’s best to let him be for now. I have one last thing to show you, and your magic lessons will be complete.”

  With a reluctant sigh, Rhiannon nodded. “Okay.”

  Ethelred turned to Maeve and threw a curious gaze. “Are you certain, Councilwoman?”

  “You know it as well as me, Your Wizardry.” Maeve offered Rhiannon her arm. “Come with me, Your Highness.”

  Rhiannon nodded and allowed Maeve her arm. Ethelred shambled against his staff, heading toward the doorway where Rhiannon had stood earlier.

  “What lies behind these doors is reserved for only those most worthy faeries.” Ethelred turned to the ancient doors and flung them open with his fingers. “Please follow me, Your Highness.”

  He clapped his hands and warm light bathed the room. Sitting in the middle of the room, in a gold-trimmed glass box upon a pedestal, was an intricately carved pendant. A circle of twelve rubies surrounded what looked like an emerald, although it sparkled more than any emerald she’d ever seen.

  Maeve stepped forward and lifted the glass from the pedestal. She set the glass cover to the side and picked up the glittering, jeweled necklace.

  “This amulet has been in your family since the dawn of time.” Maeve slowly ran her fingers across the jewels and continued on. “It was given to your mother when she finished her lessons.

  Now it will be given to you, and your eldest daughter after.” Oh, joy. She had to procreate as well? Too bad she was horrible with kids. Rhiannon bit her tongue to keep quiet.

  Maeve handed Ethelred the amulet and motioned Rhiannon to join them. Oh well, she couldn’t turn back now. She would have to remain here until Beltane. Not that she had any

  worries. She was probably already unemployed anyway.

  With an oddly cheerful step, Rhiannon approached the two faeries. She lifted her chin as regally as possible and smiled. “What do I do now?” Ethelred unclasped the back of the silver chain and placed it around Rhiannon’s neck. He spoke in a clear resonant voice. “Oh, Mother Goddess and Father God, I present to you Rhiannon Nightwind. Look upon her with favor and guide her through her journeys. So mote it be.” As if by magic, the chain formed to her neck and clasped shut. She gazed down and gasped.

  The emerald glowed.

  Rhiannon closed her eyes, taking in the warmth enveloping her. She was alert, ready, and extremely confident. It was as if she’d taken some sort of weird herbal enhancer to strengthen her perception. “Holy cow. What a rush,” she said, as the warmth receded.

  “Wonderful!” Maeve clapped “The confirmation we need.”

  “Wonderful, indeed,” Ethelred replied in a soft tone.

  Rhiannon narrowed her eyes in confusion. “What confirmation?”

  “You’re the untainted Princess of the White Faeries, of course,” Ethelred replied. “Gods bless us all!” He lifted his staff high in the air. He then slammed it to the ground. A bright ray of light burst from his staff and rainbow flecks of glitter and b
utterflies floated about them.

  “I’m diggin’ the faerie confetti.” She lifted her hand and caught a butterfly on her finger.

  “You’ll make an excellent queen.” Ethelred beamed.

  Queen? “But I thought I’m the princess. What about my mother?”

  “Your Wizardry,” Maeve chided. “Princess Rhiannon has enough on her mind already. You need not confuse her more.”

  She turned back to Rhiannon. “Eventually Titania will turn the kingdom over to you, but not for many years, so fear not.”

  Rhiannon nodded. Being princess was one thing, but queen was another. What did she get herself into?

  Chapter Ten

  Cerne sat in his chaise, sipping a glass—his third—of elderberry wine. He’d acted like a total troll this afternoon, taking his anger out on them, especially Rhiannon. Did he imagine her tears as she laid her hands on his injuries? He probably did. She was a strong woman, full of fire and spunk. There was nothing she couldn’t do. Too bad he was the unfortunate pawn in the lesson plan. Yet, he’d felt as good as new, as if she’d instilled in him more energy than his injury had taken. He could only hope those three glasses of the finest faerie wine would put him back into a hazy state of mind.

  But it wasn’t only Rhiannon who haunted him tonight. It was Sionnach. He’d let down his younger brother. He’d sent him to the lion’s den and sentenced him to death. How had Korrigan found out? The plan was foolproof, or so Radan had assured Cerne and the elder council. If he’d known differently, he would’ve gone in Sionnach’s place.

  “But I was too busy searching for the princess.” Of course, he had begged Sionnach to trade places. Retrieving Rhiannon would’ve been a much easier task for his brother. Sionnach was renowned for his skills of seduction, even more than himself. Leave it to Sionnach to find a way to seduce a princess. Cerne shook his head, still feeling the lifeline to his brother. But the connection he’d made with Radan and the elders was gone. If Sionnach wasn’t dead, he was in serious trouble.