by Arianna Skye
“And me as well.” Aine reined Maeve’s horse next to them.
Rhiannon blushed. “It was nothing. My parents insisted I join the equestrian club when I was in high school.”
“Nothing? You’re a natural with horses. I only wish your horse was here for you to ride.” Cerne took a deep breath. “He was to be a wedding gift.”
“I look forward to seeing him when we return to the castle. In the meantime, Bel’s mount is just fine.”
She took a sweeping gaze of the army lining up along the plain. At least a thousand men, winged as well as wingless, stood ready to defend their kingdom. “Wow! I’m impressed.”
“You doubted your people’s support?” Cerne arched a brow.
“Of course not! I just didn’t know there would be so many.” Aine balled her fists. “The Dark Faerie army is large. With the ogres and trolls on her side, you’ll need all the help you can get.”
Cerne turned to Aine. “Have you had any connection from your sister?”
Aine shook her head. “I’m sure she’ll make her presence known.” She gazed to the sky.
“I’m going to check on Maeve and Belenus’s whereabouts. I’ll return shortly.”
“Sounds good.” Rhiannon waved to Aine who led her horse toward the far edge of the plains. Rhiannon turned back to Cerne who gazed across the plains. “I’m happy they’ve accepted me as their commander.” Too bad she knew not a lick about faerie warfare.
Cerne smiled, pointing at a huge hulk of a man sitting tall on his horse. Even with the silver helmet covering his head, she’d recognize him anywhere. “Rowan can be very persuasive.”
“Thank the Gods for General Windstorm.” Rhiannon moved her horse closer to Cerne. She gazed up at him, taking in the lines of concern etched across his face. “What’s the matter?
“Beltane is in two days. Korrigan will stop at nothing to see us destroyed.”
“I’m ready to fight.” Rhiannon lifted her chin high. “Is there anything else you want to say to me before we fight?”
Cerne scratched his forehead, his eyes searching her soul. Thank the Gods! He was actually going to say it. He was going to finally say he loved her. She loved that look in his eyes and would remember it for an eternity.
“That dress is beautiful on you.”
For crying out loud! “Thanks a fucking lot!” What was so wrong with him telling her how he felt? She already knew, anyway. Damn, she wished she didn’t have the ability to read his thoughts. She’d accidentally honed in on them while they rode to the plains. “I’m going to join the army. When you can get your head out of your ass, I’ll be down there.” Using a quick spell Maeve gave her for protection, she kicked her horse into a gallop and raced across the plains. Why was she acting this way? She’d never acted like this with any of her boyfriends on Earth. Then again, they were human and none of them were Cerne.
She willed thoughts of Cerne’s inability to vocalize his feelings to the back of her mind.
Concentrating on the army before her, she marched regal and proud through the throngs of warriors. Scanning the crowds, her jaw dropped. Every last soldier kneeled with their head bowed as she passed. A big ego boost? Hell, yeah!
“Princess Rhiannon.” General Windstorm took long, even strides as he approached. He lifted the visor of his helmet and saluted her. “It’s good to see you safe and now in our company.” He turned to his armies. “You may rise. The princess recognizes your allegiance.” Rhiannon turned back to the troops and did her best Queen Elizabeth II impersonation. The
soldiers seemed to buy it as they took their helmets and threw them up in the air, their cheerful shouts ringing out.
“Where is your consort-to-be?” Windstorm asked, leading Rhiannon up to the front of the lines.
“Watching the outer flank—over there.” She pointed out Cerne’s horse as it galloped across the plains. “I appreciate your faith in me. I know accepting this hasn’t been an easy task—for the both of us.”
“Anything to keep my Queen—and, of course, my Princess—happy.” Windstorm dismounted from his horse and removed his helmet, his long sandy blond hair framing his chiseled face. Kneeling in front of her, he spoke in a clear resonant voice, “I offer you my allegiance, my princess.”
Seeing this battle-hardened general kneeling before her in fealty left her speechless. If she wasn’t so in love with Cerne, Rowan Windstorm would’ve been a fine catch in the Greek, golden-Adonis sort of way. “I’m honored to have you as my general, Windstorm. I accept your allegiance.”
More cheers and shouts ensued. Rhiannon smiled, watching Windstorm rise. She turned back to him. “One small thing, General.”
“Anything you wish, Your Highness.”
“Well, since you know your troops so well, and I’ve never fought a battle in my life, I’d feel better if you led the armies.”
“But the Queen asked that you lead us,” Windstorm objected. “I would not dishonor our queen.”
Rhiannon shook her head and leaned over to pat his shoulder. “My mother will understand my decision. Would you dishonor your princess—your commander?”
“No, I wouldn’t.” He bowed before her. “I would be honored to lead the army.”
“Excellent decision, General.” She placed her hand at her forehead in a salute. “That’s how they salute on Earth,” Rhiannon said, noticing the blank stares.
“This is how it’s done on Fey,” the rich, lilting voice said from behind her. Cerne reined his horse next to her and raised his hand up toward General Windstorm.
“Thanks for the lesson on faerie etiquette, Lord Silverwing.” She turned back to the general.
“Would you care to introduce me to your officers?”
Glancing back and forth between Cerne and Rhiannon, Windstorm raised an eyebrow. “Is all well between you and your mate?”
“Everything is as it has been, since the night I was brought back to Fey.” She turned to glare at Cerne, whose face remained a mask of indifference. No matter how he tried to hide it, she could see the fury rolling from him. Jiminy crickets! What is his problem? “Shall we commence with the introductions?” Rhiannon nodded Cerne’s way and allowed Windstorm to lead her through the crowds.
~*~*~
I love you. How hard was it to say those three blasted words? Cerne growled, watching Rhiannon practically throw herself at Rowan. What did he expect? He couldn’t even say he loved her. He sure as the underworld couldn’t say it here, in front of everyone. He was a man. He couldn’t show weakness now, not with Korrigan so close.
“I insist on riding along with you.”
Rhiannon nodded. “Protocol, I suppose?”
Protocol his arse. “Yes, mo cridhe.” He led his horse next to her, took her hand in his and lifted her wrist to his lips. Gazing at her, he traced his tongue along the beat of her pulse. Ahh, yes. She still desired him.
Windstorm raised an eyebrow. “So where are your bosom friends, Maeve and Belenus Windsong?”
“Patrolling the skies.” Cerne turned to Rhiannon. “The princess has discovered a most valuable ally.”
Windstorm scratched his bearded chin and arched a brow. “Sounds intriguing, Your Highness. Do tell.”
Rhiannon took a deep breath. “It seems that Korrigan is quite—umm—whip-happy and enjoys torturing her subjects.”
“I’ve heard stories. I’ve also seen some of the correspondences from Sionnach Silverwing.” Rowan cut himself off and bowed to Cerne. “I apologize, my lord. I realize he’s your brother.”
“Apology accepted, General. This involves Sionnach in a roundabout way, anyhow.
Continue for the general, leannan.”
“Well, it seems as if someone else had eyes for Sionnach.” He loved how she hummed and hawed around the story. “Anyhow. Korrigan punished this woman just for looking at him.”
“Who was this woman,” Windstorm asked, obviously wanting to get to the point.
“It is I, General.”
Cerne whi
pped his horse around and glanced toward the sky. Aine fluttered down, with Maeve and Belenus beside her. The White Faerie armies snapped to attention, their hands poised at their sides, ready to grab either a sword or a staff. Cerne rested his hand at his hilt. Not being all that adept with magic yet, Cerne was trained by the sword. Soon, that all would change.
“Hold your weapons,” Windstorm said, with a firmness that could not be ignored.
“She’s a Dark Faerie,” one bold soldier said from the middle of a crowd. “It could be a trap.”
Windstorm grabbed his reins and trotted his horse up and down the lines. “She helped the princess escape the Dark Castle.”
Rhiannon nodded. “The scar on her cheek was given to her by her sister.” Cerne turned his gaze to Aine whose face twitched in response.
“She speaks the truth.” Aine traced her finger along the long jagged scar. “Just for daring to even glance at one of her pleasure-slaves.”
Maeve stepped forward, bowing to the general. Her flaxen hair fluttered about her face. “She has been extremely helpful, even flying Princess Rhiannon over the divide into White Faerie land.”
Cerne raised his head, ready to speak his mind. “Lady Aine has provided us information on the whereabouts of my brother. She has risked her life to protect Princess Rhiannon. She has proven her loyalty threefold, if not more.”
Rhiannon turned to him and nodded her approval. She turned her gaze back to Rowan and his armies. “Maeve has examined her aura and says it’s mixed.” Moving his gaze to Maeve, Windstorm scratched the stubble bristling his chin. “Is that so?” Maeve nodded. “Yes it is, General. She has a strong white aura that seems to overpower the dark. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen.”
“Interesting.” Windstorm paced back and forth in front of his troops. “If Princess Rhiannon and the other members of the council that are present are confident about Lady Aine’s allegiance, then I haven’t a problem either.”
He turned to the crowd of soldiers. “Do you doubt your general’s decision?”
“No, sir. No!” came the reply from the troops.
“Good answer.” Windstorm let out a hearty chuckle. He turned to Aine and smiled. “I’d love to hear what you know.”
“Thank you, General.” Aine returned the smile. “I am more than happy to finally assist a worthy cause.”
Rhiannon reined her horse next to Cerne’s and sat with unrivaled regal beauty. “And I’m honored to have your help.”
Windstorm reined his horse next to them. Lowering his voice to a hush, he said, “You do realize she’ll still need to be watched. She’s Korrigan’s sister, after all.” Rhiannon nodded. “Understood, General. I can watch her well enough.”
“With all due respect, Your Highness, you have enough to worry about watching your own safety.” Windstorm crossed his arms in front of his chest, his eyes unwavering.
Well, deities, am I invisible? “The princess doesn’t need to watch herself. She has me to keep her safe,” Cerne said.
Rhiannon tossed him an irritated glare. “Perhaps you are the one who needs protection, Lord Silverwing.”
“I didn’t get myself kidnapped, now did I?” Cerne cringed, wishing he hadn’t spoken before he thought.
“Touché,” Rhiannon said, kicking her horse and trotting off. Gods, he hated when she did that!
Aine fluttered next to Cerne. “My sister says love is a weakness. I’d love for you to prove me wrong.”
Cerne let out a low growl. “You walk a thin line, Aine. I would suggest keeping your attention on the battle and off matters that do not concern you.”
“On the contrary, Lord Silverwing.” She flicked her wings and raised her head high. “It concerns the welfare of both kingdoms.”
Cerne opened his mouth to parry with a smart retort, but the sound of crashing thunder and lightning streaking across the sky interrupted his thoughts.
Rhiannon grabbed the reins of her horse and turned to face Cerne, concern etched across her face. “Korrigan?” she asked, fear flicking in her emerald eyes.
With a slow nod, Aine sucked in a deep breath. “My sister has arrived. Feel honored she gave you a warning.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Rhiannon reined her horse back next to her consort-to-be and gazed up. Another jagged streak screeched across the sky, lighting up the dismal gray. She angled her head toward Aine.
“How much time do we have?”
Aine shrugged. “About fifteen human minutes.”
Damn. They needed a plan, and quick. She turned to Windstorm, who had a spyglass poised in the direction of the lightning shower. “Any ideas, General?” Windstorm pulled the glass away from his eye and set it in the satchel on his horse. He scratched his chin in thoughtful silence. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he spoke. “I want you to stay back. I can’t risk your safety, Princess Rhiannon.” He turned to Cerne. “Or yours either, Lord Silverwing.”
“I know my sister’s tactics, General.” Aine stood proud, wings flicking at her back. “I can be of great assistance to you.”
Windstorm narrowed his eyes. “With all due respect, Lady Aine, what’s not to say you wouldn’t be leading us to our deaths?”
“Excellent point, General.” Aine brushed a black curl from her face as the wind whipped through the air. “However, would you rather I stay back with your princess, where I could lead my sister right to the prize? Or would you prefer I stay with you, where you can keep an eye on me?”
Windstorm nodded, his eyes scanning Aine. “You’ve made an excellent point . You’ll stay with me.”
“And you’ll stay with me,” Cerne said, leaning toward Rhiannon. He grabbed the reins of his horse in a tight, unyielding grip. “I’ll protect those I—ahh—value.” Rhiannon shrugged. Well, being valued was a start. “I appreciate the concern, mo cridhe.” She leaned over in her saddle to kiss his cheek. Cerne turned to face her, catching her lips with his. Tender softness and heated desire mixed, sending more electricity through her body. She struggled with the reins of her horse. Oh Gods, she was going to fall off. As if sensing the unease, Cerne wrapped his arms around her waist and plucked her from her horse, sitting her in
front of him on his mount. Thank all the Gods, he used care to avoid the saddle horn. That would’ve been most uncomfortable. Rhiannon grinned, glad she didn’t have to experience that.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his face closer. Tasting his rich spicy lips as his tongue pressed against hers sent more ripples of excitement through every part of her body. His hands traced along her back with smooth gentleness as his tongue licked slow, sensual circles with hers.
A soft moan escaped her lips and she pulled from his embrace. “Ahh. Thank you, Cerne.” Cerne traced a finger down her cheek. “No. Thank you, my love.” Rhiannon’s eyes widened and her heart fluttered like the wings on Maeve’s back. Did he actually say love? “What did you say?”
Cerne’s jaw ticked and he gnawed his lip. “I said thank you, for the battle kiss.” Stupid, stupid, sexy-ass man!
“Oh, okay.” She glanced back toward her riderless horse. Why did she have to fall in love with the most stubborn and insecure man in human—and faerie—existence? “I would like to return to my mount.”
Cerne nodded and helped lower her to the ground. Rhiannon grabbed her skirts, twisted around and stomped back toward the horse. She grabbed the horn, pulled herself up and flicked the reins to send the horse in a trot toward Aine.
“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, Your Highness. I am finally fighting for a righteous cause.”
Rhiannon reached down and took Aine’s hands in hers. “It’s I who should thank you.
General Windstorm is lucky to have you at his side.” General Windstorm broke the reverie as his horse bolted through the crowds. “Lady Aine, come with me.” He motioned Cerne over with his hand. “Lord Silverwing, please come.” Cerne pulled his reins and joined the group. “What is it, General?”
&nb
sp; “The Dark Faeries are on the move. I’ve secured a place for the princess, along with the best of our guards.” Windstorm pointed toward a copse of trees. “Maeve was telling me about a cloaking spell you used along the way. I implore you to use it.” Oh, hell, no! These faeries expected her to cower and hide while they fought to their deaths?
“I don’t think so.”
Cerne whipped his head around to face her. “What?”
Rhiannon sucked in a breath and sat tall on her horse. “You expect me to sit idly while everyone fights? I hate to inform you, but I’m no coward.” Windstorm stiffened in his saddle. “The livelihood of the kingdom rests with your safety.” Cerne gazed at her, eyes pleading. “I cannot risk losing you.”
“Yeah, that’s right. I forgot. You need me to get your wings. That’s what all this is about, right?” Someone had to say it. It was the only way she could think of to light the fire under his ass.
Cerne’s cheek twitched again and the wounded expression in his eyes made her want to sink down into the ground. “Yes, Your Highness. You are correct.” He flicked his reins and trotted off. So much for fire. She’d managed only to hurt his feelings.
Maeve fluttered down next to her. “Those were some harsh words, Your Highness. I’m speaking as a friend, and not a politician.”
“Thanks for pointing out the obvious.” Rhiannon sighed. “I didn’t mean it. I’m just frustrated and at my wits end.”
“Cerne loves you. Take comfort in the way he acts toward you. There is a human euphemism for this, I believe.”
Rhiannon nodded. “Actions speak louder than words.” Maeve did make a point. The way he kissed her, held her, gazed at her, showed his love. But sometimes a girl just needed to hear it too. She decided to change the subject. “What’s a battle kiss?”