by AJ Nuest
God, the scent of his skin. The smooth, slippery friction. The hard ridges massaging every part had her so damn close.
She cinched her arms and legs around him. Her climax built, and he gritted his teeth. Tendons popped in his neck as he ground into her faster and harder.
The swift jerk of his hips, and she was pitched freefalling off the cliff. Her fingertips went numb. Caedmon throbbed and pulsed within her. She tossed her head back as wave after wave of release rocked through her flesh.
Her prince shuddered and collapsed to the bed, arms and legs tangled with hers and their lips caught in a deep kiss.
“Sweet tits of the Nine.” His breath warmed her hair. His heart raced and the shallow vibrations matched the erratic rhythm in her chest. “’Tis both blessing and a curse, making love to a goddess. You have ruined me for all other women in the realm.”
She chuckled against the damp skin of his throat. God, she did love him. He was everything she could’ve imagined and more.
Another laugh shook her shoulders as he rolled to the bed and stared at the ceiling, a hand resting on the labored rise and fall of his chest. Pushing up on one elbow, he grasped her opposite hip and urged her close, reached for the edge of a fur-trimmed blanket near his pillows and cocooned her against him so she’d stay nice and warm.
His finger trailed a naughty path down to her nipple. It sprang to attention and his eyebrow twitched.
Uh-oh. If she was reading his signals correctly, she’d apparently snagged herself one of those guys with an insatiable sex drive. “Fine. Give me five minutes.”
Biting his bottom lip, he cupped her jaw and leaned in for another languid kiss. His thumb brushed her cheek as he explored, and she had to admit it was a good thing they were still on the bed.
Hot damn, the man knew how to kiss. Sometimes plundering her mouth as if possessed. Other times, his lips a feather light, barely there whisper.
As if it were just like he said and he’d never get enough. Was more than happy to pretend no one but the two of them existed.
He finally slowed and she glanced down as the key shifted between her breasts. The blanket fell to around her hips as she sat up, smiling as Caedmon scooted in place behind her. One thick thigh on either side of her hips, he swept her hair over her shoulder so it wouldn’t tug.
It seemed strange, in a way. She fingered the key before holding it on the end of the chain. Less than a week with it round her neck, and yet for some dumb reason giving it up seemed…wrong.
“What troubles you, my heart?”
“Nothing. It’s silly.” She swept the necklace over her head and, twisting to the left, carefully lowered it onto his shoulders. “Here. I believe this belongs to you.”
He scooped up the key and bounced it in his hand, flipping the sides over and back. “These markings. What is R—A—L?”
She shrugged. “My initials, far as I can tell. Rowena Analiese Lindstrom.”
“And yet, soon to be Princess Rowena Austiere.”
She grinned as he buried his face in her neck. No denying he had her there.
A deep rumbling shook the bed, and she frowned as Caedmon lifted his head. His body tensed. The floor pitched and heaved. A pinpoint of laser light zipped around the edge of the mirror and she squinted at the view of her bedroom inside the frame.
The surface rippled, like a pebble had been thrown into a pond. Exchanging a wide-eyed glance with Caedmon, she left his arms and, together, they scrambled off the bed.
His blanket slid to the floor and she slung it around her shoulders. Lurching toward the armoire, she fought gravity and the undulating floor. He rammed his legs into his breeches, jerked them to his waist and rushed over to stand behind her.
A leaded glass bottle rattled to the corner of his desk and tumbled off the edge. The inkwell exploded, and she flinched as black ink sprayed in every direction at once.
“The veil closes.” Winding his arms around her shoulders, Caedmon braced her against his chest. “If you lament crossing, you have but a moment to return.”
Hooking her fingers on his forearms, she shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Here, with him, was the one place she truly belonged.
He dotted kisses along the top of her shoulder, snuck his hand inside the blanket and eased his palm to her breast. Wiggling her hips, she seated her bottom right where he wanted it most. He released a hot moan into her ear and she laughed.
The image doubled then cleared and, for a split-second, she got a good look at the two of them in the mirror.
Her hair. She tried for another shot even though everything kept swimming in and out of focus. Instead of the highlights Ollie had insisted she get during her last hair cut, the entire shade had gone a brilliant white-blonde. Just like when she was a kid.
And her skin. She traced a fingertip down the side of her cheek. The scar from when she’d taken a header off her bike was gone. No more freckles. No smile lines. Not even the smallest hint of crow’s feet in the corners of her eyes.
The only color was her green irises, the dark red of her kiss-swollen lips.
But, why? She’d gone back through time and, what? In the process, all her imperfections had been erased? As if she’d never existed?
The mirror splintered and she grimaced, pressing two fingertips to the middle of her forehead. Holy hell. She’d never had a migraine before, but she didn’t need to be told twice to know one was coming.
The pressure condensed, a grating black hole inside her skull. She buried her face in her hands and doubled over as the pain ruptured into a high-pitched wail. Heavy pounding rattled Caedmon’s bedroom door. Dread poured into her stomach and crawled up her throat as bitter bile.
Shit, this wasn’t right. The hammering was so intense, she couldn’t think straight.
Glass exploded from the mirror. She was wrenched backward onto the floor. A set of muscled arms rolled her to the side and a large calloused hand shielded her face.
What in the hell was happening? A splitting throb tore through her head, and she thrashed. Fragments of her life collided and eddied in her brain. But none of it made sense. Where was she? What had happened to her clothes?
The door burst open and a team of heavily guarded men stormed into the room. The guy on top of her crawled to his feet and lifted her off the cold, stone floor.
“My love.” He cupped her face in his hands, ran them down her neck to her shoulders. “Are you injured? Why do you weep?”
She clenched his wrist and dug her heels in against another bolt of excruciating torture. A blood-curdling scream burned the back of her throat and her legs gave.
“Fandorn!” Yanking her to his chest, he cradled her cheek against his pec. “Bring the medicant and Wizard Fandorn immediately.”
Past the fringe of her lowered lashes, the guards parted and some old dude wearing a gold crown stepped through the crowd. Behind him trailed a tall, gangly man who desperately needed a trim before he tripped on the end of his beard.
Cool air drifted around her ankles, and she shivered. No, no. These people, this place. She didn’t belong here. And for whatever reason this stranger was holding onto her, she didn’t belong with him, either.
“By the great path of Helios, you did it, my boy.” The king slapped a hand to the young man’s shoulder and a full grin creased the weathered wrinkles on his face. “Many said the key would never cross into our realm.”
He shrugged the hand off his body and faced the guy with the long gray beard. “Something is wrong with her, Fandorn. What has happened?”
Dropping his focus to the floor, the skinny guy bowed. “The veil has wiped her memories, Your Highness.”
Terror stiffened her body. The room spun and her lungs refused pull air. Shit, he was right. She remembered nothing but the past few minutes.
“You knew” The highness—whoever he was—widened his eyes in alarm. “You knew this would happen, yet you still bade me tread such a traitorous path?”
Wait, what? Who talked like that? And what traitorous path was he talking about?
“I am deeply sorry, my prince.” The one named Fandorn bowed low a second time. “I remained silent only to increase your chance at success.”
“The sorceress is no longer our concern.” The king stepped forward and she sputtered. Sorceress? They had to be kidding. This had to be some sort of bad joke. “You must ride out at once, Caedmon. Herald our victory with the key.”
Caedmon. That was his name. She tried to search her memories but, every time she got close, her head nearly cracked like an egg.
“I shall do no such thing. She denied everything for us. I cannot now leave her side.”
“You can and you shall. The fate of our country rests upon your neck.” The king flicked a finger and two of the guards stepped forward. They wrestled her out of Caedmon’s arms, pinned his wrists behind his back and dragged him toward the door.
The absence of his warmth was almost too much to bear. She frowned. But that was ridiculous, right? How could she miss someone she’d never met?
A quick jab of the prince’s elbow, and her jaw dropped as the first guard crumpled, clutching the bleeding remains of his broken nose. One kick, and the other guard fell to his knees, collapsed onto his side and moaned.
Glass crunched under her feet as she backed away, wondering if she’d be better off finding a good place to hide. Caedmon what’s-his-name was dangerous. With a bad temper that could easily slide way out of control.
He strode forward, jaw set, and her pulse skipped over the way he kept her leveled in his gaze. Four more guards leapt from the mob and grappled with his shoulders. Fandorn held up his hand and his voice boomed throughout the room. “Yield.”
Caedmon froze midstride, and though rage glinted in his eyes, he did not move. “Release me at once, Wizard. Or at my first opportunity, I shall cleave your head from your shoulders.”
What? She glanced from one tense face to the next. What kind of person made threats like that? First a sorceress, now a wizard? Maybe she was dreaming. Either that or she’d suffered some sort of psychotic break.
Fandorn sighed and shook his head. “I must accompany your garrison to the front lines, Caedmon. But I vow to you, no harm shall come to the sorceress whilst we are away. Let us be rid of this nefarious duty. The sooner begun, the sooner you may return to her aide.”
Caedmon shifted his focus to her and she retreated another unsteady step. No. She was not a sorceress. And these people were wrong. All of this was horribly, horribly wrong.
A tear tumbled onto her cheek. She didn’t belong here. This wasn’t her home.
“I only wish to bid her farewell. Now, leave my chamber, all of you, and I shall ride out before the setting bell.”
“You shall come with us now and return once your task is accomplished.” The king beckoned the guards forward with two fingers and a dozen men surrounded the prince in a tight clutch.
The wizard waved his hand and Caedmon lunged forward, fighting to break through the ranks.
“I will return.” The muscles in his chest strained, several sets of hands dragging him into the hall. “Await me in this chamber, my love, and I shall hasten to your side.”
The king tossed a glance over his shoulder and trailed after his guards. The wizard followed on his heels and the rest of the men shuffled out.
His love? Rowena faced to the empty room and jumped as the door slammed behind them.
Part 2—Candra’s Freedom
Chapter Nine
Legs braced on top of the wide stone parapet, Rowena closed her eyes and tilted her face to the warm rays of the late summer sun. Helios, they called him, and though she’d tried to buy into their religion, to her, the sun was simple the sun.
A high wind tugged at her hair and billowed a sheet of white silk into a frenzy behind her. It was the same with how they whispered Candra-Scinlæce, the Glowing Sorceress, every time she walked past.
She was just a woman. No special powers. No secret gifts. No past, no future…no family.
Footsteps hit the landing, and she rolled her eyes under her closed lids. Great. Now who had they sent? Who had spotted her and gotten all bent out of shape as if they had any right to tell her what she should or shouldn’t be doing?
Hopefully her intruder was Gertie. God knew, there wasn’t much else to look forward to then shocking the shit out of her owlish handmaiden with her outlandish behavior.
A gasp reached her ears through the whisper of the wind, and Rowena smirked but didn’t turn. Yep. That was Gertie, all right.
“Milady, please. You know how these perilous acts strain my nerves. Should you fall to your death, I would certainly follow soon after. The king would display my head on a pike and the commonwealth would spit on the pole for generations.”
Rowena sputtered. “That’s overstating things just a bit, don’t you think?”
A blink, and she peered out over the countryside. From her vantage point atop the tall bell tower, every farm in the kingdom sat displayed at her feet. A freedom she rarely enjoyed filled her soul.
Dart screeched from his lazy circle astride the wind, falcon wings tipped gold in the sunlight, inviting her to join him in the air.
“I come bearing news of great import.” Gertie sighed. “But I cannot tell you in such a state. You must first climb down.”
Good grief, when would these people learn? When would they ever, ever learn? Gritting her teeth, Rowena tried her to keep her muscles loose and relaxed. She wasn’t some wilting princess content to be locked in a tower all damn day. She sucked at needlepoint and couldn’t stand the constant waiting around as if she were no more than some stupid decoration.
“If you’ve got something to say, then say it. Otherwise, go away. I’m busy.” If only the wind would pick up just a little more. Her timing had to be exactly right or this would never work.
“Fine.” Gertie huffed. “No one should bear the load of such a heavy burden. Watching over you has been one terror after the next, and the finality of your demise will successfully do away with my curse.”
Rowena chuckled. “I love you, too. Now talk or get lost.”
“A courier returned from the North. Prince Caedmon has escaped.”
Her knees snapped in place and any attempt at channeling her inner Zen was lost at processing that mind-numbing bomb. So, after nearly two years of waiting, the prodigal son finally returned. Everyone would expect her to be relieved. Happy even. Too bad, the thought managed to curdle the bread she’d had for breakfast in her stomach.
No doubt a fancy party would be held in his honor, and she’d be put on display, the swooning beauty awaiting her handsome prince.
Oh, how terribly romantic. The kingdom would celebrate. Everyone would rejoice. A marriage would most likely follow…and the second he had her alone, he would try to control her. Just like everyone else in this nightmarish place. He would lord over her and expect she obey his every command.
Prince Caedmon Austiere. She smacked her lips. The only person alive who could fill in the missing blanks about her supposed leap through a magic mirror.
The last time she’d seen the guy, he’d beaten the crap out of two members of the Royal Guard. Not cool, dude. And to make matters worse, he’d personally threatened to behead Fandorn, one of the few people she grown to trust and count on as her friend.
No. To her, the prince’s jailbreak meant only one thing. Another heavy lock and chain slung around her neck. Another pampered royal, thinking he could get all grabby with her. That it was his duty to stab her in the back and mess with her head…
Well, too bad. However Prince Caedmon judged her actions—crazy, rude, disrespectful—she really didn’t care. She wasn’t some scared displaced girl anymore, jumping at every strange noise and terrified to leave the safety of his room. Two years, she’d been working her ass off, and she wasn’t about to let him bust into the castle and ruin her plans.
Tipping forward, she peered down th
e wall and then tightened her jaw as a wave of vertigo made the ground reel some twenty stories beneath her feet. Then again, maybe everyone in the kingdom was right. She was nuttier than a fruitcake and this venture was nothing but another attempt at committing suicide.
She jerked her chin up. “How much time have I got?”
“He arrives by ship two days hence. Now really, Milady, I must insist you withdraw from the wall.”
“I can’t do that, Gertie.” A cool gust of mountain air teased the hair back from her brow and the silk snapped and expanded in response. “But do me a favor? If I end up going splat, be sure to give Prince Caedmon my regards.”
Extending her arms, Rowena bent her knees and leapt…
Chapter Ten
The wooden deck bobbed and swayed under his boots. A fine spray of salt water misted against his cheeks. Over his left shoulder, sheets of canvas fluttered and swelled as the ship keeled to port and the sails ensnared the wind.
The bow lurched and Caedmon stiffened his legs, clenching his jaw against the unsteady tremor in his knees. One whole cycle of the moon since his first day of freedom and, still, malaise lingered in his bones.
He’d slept much of the trip, spent long hours basking in the fresh sea air and warm sunlight. He’d eaten as much as his shrunken stomach would allow and even sparred with members of the crew, hoping the exercise would help him recoup his strength.
Chained in the bowels of Seviere’s dungeons, he’d been flogged and beaten. His life had bled from his veins. The wretched king and his minions had stolen more than just the key. Caedmon had been stripped of his spirit. His purpose and rank.
The promise he’d sworn to his lady love.
But in those torturous moments, neither did he yield nor was he deceived by the lies set upon his ear. Only one person could be called to task for his imprisonment. He merely needed to uncover the proof to confirm his suspicions. And that turbulent battle started here. Today.
When first the call sounded his homeland had been sighted, he’d rushed to the prow and stood within full view of his father’s kingdom. Far across the black water the eastern coastline loomed and, in the distance, a large procession trailed down the high ridge toward the water’s edge. His kinsman rode in full regalia, tasseled pennants snapping in the wind, shining armor winking flashpoints in the sunlight.