WingsOfDesire-AriannaSkye

by Arianna Skye

  As she made her way to him, he leaned onto his other foot and re-crossed his arms. She couldn’t wait for those sinewy arms to wrap around her and pull her close. A grin danced across his lips as his eyes roved across her body. Shivers of excitement raced through her. Damn him and his sexy ways.

  With reluctance, she willed herself to put all erotic thoughts of the two of them together to the deep recesses of her mind. Now was definitely not the time to play.

  Here goes nothing. “I need to talk with you—privately.” Cerne nodded, offering her his arm. “A walk in the woods would do us both good.” Rhiannon hooked her arm with his and pulled herself close to him. She leaned into him, sucking in his spicy male aroma. She missed him—all of him. She took a deep breath and sighed.

  There was no easy way to begin this conversation. “Aine spoke to me about Sionnach.” The crunching of the forest floor stopped abruptly as Cerne whipped around to face her. “Is he alive?”

  Watching Cerne’s hopeful expression, Rhiannon bit her lip. “Aine says he was when she saw him last. She’s afraid you’ll blame her for what’s happened.” Cerne’s eyes blazed. “What has happened?”

  “Aine was attracted to him. So, to punish her—and him, obviously—Korrigan sent him to the Outer Realm.”

  Cerne’s face fell and his eyes clouded over. “He’s as good as dead.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “No one has ever escaped the Outer Realm. There was a prophecy about a great warrior, but the faerie who predicted it was proven to be a false prophet, and it was a Dark Faerie warrior, not a White Faerie.” He shook his head and gazed down. He kicked a clump of leaves, sending splashes of green and yellow scattering. “I should’ve gone instead.”

  “What’s done is done. Things happen for a reason.” Rhiannon wrapped her arm around Cerne and held him close. “Maybe I can find a way to get him out.” Cerne pushed her away. “There is nothing you can do. Even if he’s able to survive, he would never be the same.”

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you better news. I’m sorry I’m an optimist who says it isn’t over until the fat lady sings.” Rhiannon cringed at Cerne’s scowl. A lead balloon would’ve gone over better than that one-liner. She turned her back to him in defeat.

  “I’m sorry things are fucked up.” She grabbed her skirts and padded back to the encampment, oblivious to the tears starting to pour.

  ~*~*~

  Blast it! He couldn’t do anything right!

  “Rhiannon, wait!” Without a second thought, he rushed for her, grabbed her arm and pulled her into his embrace.

  “I’m the one who is sorry, mo cridhe.” He reached down and pushed a strand of auburn hair from her face. He traced his finger down her cheek, wiping away her tears. “I have a lot on my mind and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, especially after your ordeal.” Rhiannon buried her head into his chest. “I understand.” Cerne wrapped his arms around her, tracing his fingers across her back. “Your human words did warm my heart.” He lowered his lips to hers and placed a soft kiss against their honey sweetness. “And I appreciate your concern for my brother,” he whispered.

  “I was so worried I’d never see you again.” Rhiannon nuzzled her cheek against his. “I was afraid I’d never be able to hear your sexy voice, touch you, smell you, taste you.” Cerne took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and pulled her face up to his. The tender look in her emerald eyes unraveled him. “You can still taste me, mo cridhe.” He traced a fingertip down her cheek and against her soft lips. “Do you want to?” Rhiannon breathed against the pad of his finger, sending jolts of electricity through his body.

  Her tongue darted from her mouth and swirled along his finger. “Please?” She pushed her mouth against his, taking him by surprise, and nibbled and sucked his lips, devouring him like a dragon devoured its prey, fire included. She pressed her tongue against his

  mouth, demanding entrance.

  Rhiannon moaned softly against his lips as her hands moved up and down his chest. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him closer. Cerne groaned and licked a scorching path up her neck.

  “Gods, I missed you,” Cerne breathed in her ear. He took in her rich scent of lavender and vanilla and hardened even more. “I shouldn’t be taking advantage of you like this, leannan.”

  “Who said it was you taking advantage of me?” Her fingertips danced down his belly to the strings of his breeches. With expert fingers, she loosened the ties. “If you remember, I said I missed touching you too.” She hiked his breeches down and wrapped her hand around his erection, squeezing and stroking its hard length.

  Rhiannon licked her lips. She turned around and rubbed her buttocks against his pulsing cock. “Make love to me, Cerne, right here in the forest, like a wild animal.”

  “Oh, Gods,” he growled. He tossed her skirts up and yanked her closer to his hardened flesh.

  His hand moved down her ass and between her legs as he nibbled her ear and thrust two fingers inside her heated core. “You’re wet, mo cridhe—for me?” A loud groan rumbled from her as his fingers stroked her inside. “Yes, only you. Please, I need you now.”

  Cerne smiled, undulating his hips against her behind. “Good answer.” He licked, sucked and nibbled on her earlobe, hungry for every part of her delicious body. “On the ground. Now.” Rhiannon grinned up at him. Eager to please, she got onto all fours and wiggled her ass up at him. “Take me now, you hot stud.”

  Whatever a stud was, he didn’t care. He needed to be inside her. He lowered himself on top of her and moved his hands up her back and around to stroke her breasts and tweak her nipples.

  Her hips bucked against his and a moan escaped her lips. Cerne removed his hands from her breasts and grabbed onto her hips. He groaned loudly. With one smooth stroke, he pushed himself inside her and slammed her hips to his.

  He moved in and out with swift motions, pressing deep inside her heat. He threw back his head as her muscles clenched against him. His cock throbbed and his balls tightened. He would spill at any moment.

  “I’m close,” Cerne groaned, leaning into her. He lowered his mouth to her neck and nibbled and sucked her tender flesh.

  “Me too,” she gasped between ragged breaths. She quivered and tightened against his flesh, slamming her hips against him.

  Cerne couldn’t control his release any longer and with a loud groan threw back his head. He gripped her waist and pushed into her with swift, powerful strokes and shuddered as her hot tunnel spasmed against him. Her moans and groans threw him over the edge. Roaring triumphantly, he thrust one final time, spilling himself inside her.

  Rhiannon sighed with contentment as Cerne rolled off her. He grabbed her hips and pulled her on top of him.

  “Thank you, mo cridhe.” He traced a lazy fingertip down her cheek and placed a tender kiss on her lips.

  “No. Thank you.” She nuzzled her face against his. Beltane was in three days and she was ready to commit. Fey was her home, no matter how hard she tried to deny it. She finally was somewhere she felt she belonged. “I love you, Cerne.”

  “Mmm-hmm,” he murmured. He nibbled along her neck sending long forgotten electrical currents through her skin.

  How like a man. Rhiannon grumbled, pulling herself from his embrace. “Thanks for the fuck.” She straightened her skirts and turned away from him. She knew he must feel something for her, she saw it in his eyes, the way he held her, the intimacies they shared.

  Cerne sat up, pulling his breeches back up. “Rhiannon, please come back here.” Shaking her head, she snapped her fingers, letting the fog envelop her. When the fog dissipated, she stood before Aine, Maeve, and Bel, who held a huge eagle on his wrist. Maeve stroked the bird’s neck like a mother stroking her baby’s head.

  “Where’s Cerne?” Maeve asked, taking in her slightly disheveled appearance. At Rhiannon’s soft huff, Maeve sighed. “Oh, dear.”

  “I’m right here,” he called from the edge of the encampment, as he stalked towar
d them.

  Standing next to Rhiannon, he grabbed her waist and hauled her next to him. “What did I do wrong?” he whispered.

  He really didn’t know? “I’ll let you ponder over it for a while.” Rhiannon turned the conversation back to Maeve and Belenus. “What’s with the bird?”

  “It isn’t just any bird, it’s an eagle,” Belenus said with pride. He held the bird up high, his grin wide.

  “Windstorm has replied?” Cerne asked, still gripping Rhiannon’s arm.

  Maeve nodded. “He isn’t that far from here, about a half a day’s ride at the most. If we all could fly, it would be even a shorter journey.” She bowed to Rhiannon. “No offense, Your Highness.”

  Rhiannon shrugged herself out of Cerne’s grip. “None taken. What about the messenger orb?”

  Belenus nodded. “The orb has been dispatched to the castle. I’m sure it’s in one of the councilmember’s capable hands by now.”

  “Wonderful!” She paused, noticing Aine’s troubled gaze. “What’s the matter, Aine?” Aine took a deep breath. “My sister is on the move, I can feel it, and Tynan is with her. If she joins in this battle, I fear it will be bloody.”

  “Battles usually are,” Rhiannon replied matter-of-factly. Warfare was no laughing matter.

  Her years moving from base to base had proven that fact. Luckily for her, her human dad hadn’t been called away to any major skirmishes. No, it had only taken a drunk driver to snatch him and her mom from her. She took a deep breath and gnawed her lip as nervousness took over.

  Cerne reached for her hand and grabbed it, his fingers softly stroking her palm. She wasn’t in a mood to pull away, and, besides, the feel of his fingers against hers comforted her. Despite his lack of response, she knew in her heart he cared for her. Now she just needed to hear him say it.

  As if reading her thoughts—which she probably was—Maeve approached her with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. Soon it will happen.” Rhiannon nodded and gave Maeve a half-smile. “I hope so.” Maeve winked. “I know so.”

  Rhiannon hoped she did, too.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Onora padded through the field with a basket in hand. She opened the palm of her other hand and glanced down at the stone Tynan had given her. Despite it being a gift from him, it made her unclean and tainted. She had to give it back.

  If he loved her like he claimed to, he would understand—she hoped. She clasped her fingers back around the stone, wanting to toss it to the Outer Realm and be done with it.

  “Onora, my sweet.” His voice, normally soothing, held an unnerving edge. She turned around to gaze at Tynan.

  “I-I’ve come to return the stone—” What she saw shocked her. Tynan stood tall and proud, all muscles and sinew, not the lean man she’d been used to. His long blond hair whipped around his head and black wings flicked behind his back. Next to him stood a proud woman clad in leather, holding a whip in her hand. Her black hair coiled amongst a crown of twigs and dried leaves. “Who are you?”

  The woman threw back her head and laughed, stroking the whip in her hand. “I think you know. Now what was this about returning the stone? If you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep it.”

  “Tynan,” Onora pleaded, rushing to his arms. “What has happened to you?” She peered up into his fern-green eyes and alarm raced through her. Tynan’s eyes were dark as a moonless sky.

  “What have I done?”

  The woman cackled loudly, the sound like vultures crowing in the sky. “Naivety serves its purpose does it not?”

  Onora fell to her knees, burying her face in her hands. Sobs wracked her body. What have I done? Tears streamed down her face onto the ground below.

  “Stop crying! You sound pathetic.” Tynan threw back his head. “Oh, that’s right. You are pathetic.”

  Onora wiped at the tears staining her cheeks, her body sinking further to the ground. “I thought you loved me.”

  Korrigan kicked Onora’s side, sending her rolling over. Onora grabbed herself as pain

  ripped through her—physical as well as emotional. Korrigan glared down at her, her boot planted on top of her stomach. “Only fools fall in love.”

  “The only thing I loved was manipulating you,” Tynan said, with a sneer on his face.

  Onora gazed up at him. Gone were the sweet smiles he used to give her. Gone were his beautiful green eyes. Gone was his heart—if he even had one to begin with. She had nothing left—nothing to live for. Love didn’t exist and she’d betrayed her kingdom. She took the stone she still clutched and hurled it at his feet.

  “I may be naïve, but I’ll not be your tool anymore.” Korrigan cackled, picking up the stone at Tynan’s feet. “Perhaps not our tool, but definitely a fool.”

  The sooner this woman ended her misery the better. “I would rather be a fool than evil, like you.”

  “You’ve been around the princess too much. You’re starting to speak without thinking of the consequences.”

  “She’ll make an amazing queen, and you’re nothing to me.” Korrigan growled and kicked Onora hard in the nose. Onora reeled back from the blow, the metallic taste and scent of blood overwhelming her.

  “Not only are you naïve, you’re insane.” Tynan towered over her, his black eyes boring into her soul—if she had one left.

  “I’ve served my purpose, have I not?” Onora struggled to right herself.

  “Silence, fool” Korrigan drew her whip and let it crack through the air. The lash struck Onora’s shoulder, sending searing pain through her arm. Korrigan cracked the whip again, striking her other shoulder. Onora gasped and squinted back the pain.

  “Where in the deities did you find this fool, Tynan?” She ground the heel of her boot into Onora’s hand who bit back the cry of pain as more tears threatened to spill over.

  “You can quit with the heroic act.” Tynan threw back his head in a sinister laugh that caused her to cringe. “It’s a little too late now, don’t you think? After all, our armies are at this moment preparing for battle, and your precious princess is missing—again.” Onora’s head swam as pain washed through her body. “I’m no hero. I’m a fool, as you’re so apt to say. And I would rather die than continue to help your evil cause.”

  “Very well, then,” Korrigan said, and threw the stone at Onora’s feet. “I would be happy to

  oblige that request, but I believe you’ll better serve elsewhere.” She hooked her whip at her side and thrust out her palm. “Enjoy your eternal torture, in the Outer Realm.” Oh, dear Gods. She was doomed now. But it was a fitting punishment for a traitor. She lifted her head and stared at Korrigan, ready for her fate. When the bright light shot forth from Korrigan’s hand, Onora smiled, welcoming the punishment she deserved.

  ~*~*~

  Radan Evenspring sat at his desk, head in his hands. Things were not going as expected.

  Beltane was in three days and their princess was still missing. If he hadn’t retired his battle-wings, he would gladly fight. Instead, here he was with his head buried in politics and procedures. Then again, he did have a mind when it came to government.

  A glowing light floating toward him caught his attention. He extended his hand, beckoning the message orb toward him. He gazed down at the orb and began reading the message.

  “Great deities!” The orb went crashing to the floor, evaporating into a million flashes of light. Radan burst from his chair and fluttered his wings, preparing to take flight.

  Without further thought, he snapped his fingers and headed toward the garden. If he knew anything, it was how much the meek maid loved the garden and its multitudes of herbs.

  Radan materialized near the fountain. He flicked his wings and soared up in the air, scanning the area for a better view. Not one faerie roamed the gardens. Times were too dire. Great deities!

  Where was Onora?

  The plains, of course!

  Radan wasted no time. He snapped his finger and let the mists envelop him. Willing the fog to lead him to th
e plains, he forced thoughts of Viviane to the back of his mind.

  The fog faded around him, and he glanced around, taking in the view. Not a living soul, save for the butterflies and dragonflies flitting around, in sight. He took to the air and floated above the fields, inhaling the rich scent. The fields were empty, apart from the rows and rows of purple blossoms sprinkling the plains.

  “Onora,” he called, listening to his voice echo in the distance. Blast it, the girl isn’t here. He turned back to the castle and caught a glimpse of a solitary basket below.

  Radan moved in closer, recognizing it instantly. Onora never went anywhere without it. It

  sat upside down on the ground, next to a patch of scorched earth.

  His breath caught. “Dear Gods,” Radan muttered. He was too late. Onora was dead. He scoured the area, leaving no piece of plant untouched. A bright flash in the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he turned around. He gazed down to find a strange red stone glinting in the afternoon sun. Mesmerized by the unique oval shape and smoothness, he picked it up. Intense heat radiated from it, yet he wasn’t burned. 'Twas no ordinary stone, for sure. He scooped up Onora’s basket and placed the stone inside. Perhaps Ethelred the wizard would be able to discern it. He closed the basket’s lid and turned around.

  “Thank you for finding me,” a drawling female voice whispered in his ear, and an icy shiver crept its way through his spine all the way to the tips of his wings. Radan’s gaze roved the area.

  Shaking his head, he put the basket under his arm, snapped his fingers, and evaporated into the mists. All the while back to the castle, something prickled deep in the back of his mind.

  ~*~*~

  Rhiannon sat straight on her horse with a tight grip on the reins. Cerne led his horse next to her and gave her a wide grin. “You’ve made me proud, mo cridhe.”