The Golden Key Chronicles: A Time Travel Romance (The Golden Key Series Book 1)

by AJ Nuest

It pebbled against her finger and a husky groan rumbled in his chest. His hand tightened, the digits flexed and squeezed her hip. She squirmed and clenched her ass as he jammed his hand inside the small gap of leather at her lower back.

  The calluses on his palm were rough and heated. His pinky traced the crease of her bottom, fingers gripping and seeking within the tight confines of her fitted pants.

  Skin gliding against skin, she swept her palm low, raking her splayed fingers through the soft line of hair below his bellybutton. A rasp left his lips and his stomach contracted as she pried her fingertips under the waistband of his breeches.

  Less than an inch, and her fingers forked around the bulbous head. He pulsed in her hand as she stroked him from base to tip.

  The man did not disappoint. She swept her thumb over the swollen slit and a growl formed in his throat. Shoving his hand deeper, he grasped her from behind and parted her ass to slide his fingers close to the pulsing spot she needed him most.

  She arched her back, squirming so he’d reach farther. He circled and teased, entering her with the tip of his finger. One of ankles twined around hers and he jerked her legs apart.

  Heat flooded her veins. He shackled her wrist and her breath caught as wrenched her hand from his pants and flipped her over. Hips wedged between her thighs, he drove against her. Once then twice. Hot and heavy as he swiveled his hips and she tried not to come apart.

  The steel band of his grip held her wrist captive near her shoulder. His lips closed in, but he hesitated, his breath brushing her cheek as he held them perched on the edge of a kiss.

  Hunger swirled in his gaze, yet he squinted. Behind the thick fringe of his lashes, a question formed. One that spoke to her without the need for words.

  Was she inviting him in? Did she finally trust and believe that he loved her?

  And by all that was holy, please let the answer be yes.

  She smiled and worked one of her wrists free to run her fingertip along the fleshy curve of his bottom lip. Every word, every step…every action he’d taken had led them to this place. And, even better, unlike those horrible minutes before he’d kissed her on the terrace, she wasn’t the slightest bit uncomfortable. No tightening across the back of her neck. No pounding in her skull.

  Huh. Apparently, he’d been right the first night that they’d met. As long as she avoided their time before she came through the mirror, being with him didn’t cause her any pain.

  She reached up and his hair slipped like iridescent feathers through her fingers. One heavy ribbon fell sleek and cool against her mouth as she brought his ear to her lips. “Let’s make a new memory.”

  He pulled back so fast, her hand dropped to his shoulder, and searched her face as if he wasn’t all that sure he’d heard right.

  So. He needed more convincing? Good.

  A leisurely grind of her lips, and his pupils blew. His eyes rolled back in his head and he hissed.

  There. If that didn’t get her point across, nothing would.

  He shoved his hand under her back and she tightened her arm around his shoulders. A slight tip of his head and—

  A twig snapped.

  His muscles coiled, bunching everywhere the two of them connected. Irritation hardened his features quickly chased by thin-lipped fear.

  Dammit, they’d been found. But by who?

  It didn’t matter. A garrison of Seviere’s men or someone else, she and Caedmon could work out the details later. Either that or take the chance they might get arrested. Or worse.

  She pressed his chest, but he didn’t move. Bumping his chin toward his saddle bags, he glanced at his sword, leaning against a trunk near the horses. She nodded and jerked her thumb in the direction of the trees.

  If they were about to be lynched, her best offense would be to head straight for the fog. Use it as cover and, hopefully, get above ground level so she could see without being seen.

  He clenched jaw and his muted grumble vibrated her breastbone before he pecked her lips. She suppressed a chuckle even as he shoved off the ground and ran, hunched over, for his weapon.

  A discordant twang echoed through the fog as she scrambled to her feet. A thick arrow thudded into the ground and pierced the center of her bedroll. Dart screeched and soared off into the sky.

  Shouts and thrashing branches surrounded the camp on all sides. Deadly music as arrows strummed from their bows and whirred in a hailstorm overhead. The horses screamed and reared, dislodging their wickets. Hooves pounded earth as they scattered into the woods.

  Past the side of a thick elm, a flash of black caught her eye. Shit. She veered left and snatched a silver-laced cord off her boot. Only one group wore those ridiculous ballooning pants and stalked with the silence of death.

  Braedric’s henchmen. Faceless assassins who rimmed their onyx eyes with kohl and hid behind a veil of black cloth.

  Her heart soared for her throat even as she gritted her teeth against a pissed-off roar. Chances were high she and Caedmon were outnumbered at least five to one. Braedric’s hashishans always hunted in packs of ten at a time.

  Dodging close, she whirled the weighted end and flung the jot just under the lowest branch of the tree. A snag of the cord from the air, and she yanked, gathered the slack and wrenched her fists close to her jaw. Pressing a bent knee to the trunk, she slammed the hashishan’s neck against the rough bark.

  “What do you want?” She clenched her jaw, voice low. “Tell me now right now or, I swear, your head’s about to fall off your shoulders.”

  The hashishan laughed, demented and filled with resignation. “Death-h-h. I seek death-h-h…”

  A flurry of movement, and she turned her face as a warm liquid splattered her chin and arms. Dropping the cord, she withdrew, holding her blood-soaked hands in the air. A swipe of her forearm across her jaw and her anger morphed into ice-cold disbelief.

  The hashishan gurgled and slumped to the ground, a reddened kukri clutched in his fist. The gaping slash bisecting his throat oozed what life remained in his veins all over the forest floor.

  He’d killed himself. Sweet Jesus, rather than answer her, he’d killed himself.

  She cautiously eased back another step. Confession or death, and he’d chosen death. Dear God, what had Braedric threatened him with to make suicide the preferable choice?

  A panic she’d never experienced before drove it’s bony fingers into her chest. The clang of silver ricocheted through the trees, and she whirled toward their campsite.

  Caedmon. Dammit, had Braedric sent his men to kill them both?

  Sprinting through the forest, she ignored the branches whipping her cheeks and clawing at her loose hair. A leap over some low brush and any thoughts of self-preservation disappeared the second she hit open ground.

  Caedmon struggled to fend off five men, chest heaving as he dodged and weaved, deflecting their wide scimitars blow for blow. His shirt hung in tatters. Bright red tears bled down his face. Two dead hashishans lay sprawled on the ground near his feet.

  A spin to gather her momentum, and three silver stars whizzed through the air. Snick—s nick—snick. The lead attacker howled and arched his back. Dart shrieked and swooped in. The hashishan screamed, hands flapping at his face. The sucking sluice of wet cartilage flipped her stomach, and the falcon took off, gore dripping from the eyeballs in his talons.

  One of the hashishans peeled off from the group and charged in her direction, gutting his colleague and tossing him aside as the blind man staggered into his path.

  But she’d bettered the odds. Three against one. At the very least, she’d offered Caedmon a fighting chance.

  Whirling for the woods, she zeroed in on the first low-hanging branch and leapt, swinging hands to feet up the tree. A biting sting scorched her calf. The world reeled as leather split and her boot peeled down her leg.

  Asshole. He was gonna pay for that.

  A second nip hit the side of her thigh, and she slapped her palm over the sting. Her fingers closed around a leather
cord, and she cursed. A cluster of hooked barbs decorated the end of the hashishan’s whip, sticky with brown venom. One puncture of her skin and the poison would eat her flesh down to bone.

  Wedging her heel between a fork in the branches, she planted the barbs in the wood and heaved. The hashishan stumbled as he was dragged forward. Tripped on a root and rolled to his feet.

  She rained a torrent of blades. One after the next. Edging along the branch and following his path as he dove for cover under a bed of dense ferns.

  Idiot. Two additional spikes and his scream echoed against the sky. Scrambling from the tree, she flicked her wrists and mowed down the plants with her wrist blades. She’d bleed him dry if she had to, but not before he told her why they were here.

  One silver spike protruded from his chest and the other pinned his right forearm to the ground. Retracting her blades, she straddled his ribs and fisted his collar. A groan parted his lips as she hauled him to within inches of her face.

  “Why?” She shook him, hoping to force the words from his throat. “Why would Braedric send you to kill us?”

  All she wanted was to be left alone. And Caedmon wasn’t any kinda threat. Vaighn was next in line to the throne.

  The hashishan’s eyes glazed over and back wildly in his head. “Y-you shall never b-be victorious.” Blood gushed from his lips, his smile stained a macabre, ghostly pink. “More come. T-to des-destro-o-y…” He slumped and a death rattle eked from his lungs. Blood gurgled around the spike embedded in his chest.

  Dead. And still no answers. She dropped him to the ground.

  An eerie quiet filtered through the forest. And she did not like how she didn’t hear a damn thing.

  Leaving her weapons to rust, she flew back toward camp and thrashed into the clearing. Bodies were strewn everywhere, scimitars clutched in their fists and blood pooling.

  But no Caedmon.

  No.

  Movement rustled the underbrush, and she crouched low, one leg extended, two silver blades spinning home to the centers of her the palms. Caedmon lurched into the campsite, sword dripping crimson and panic etched on his face.

  She slowly stood and he locked onto her from the opposite side of the dead fire. Naked from the waist up, he’d ditched his shredded shirt somewhere along the way. Shallow slashes crisscrossed his chest, the gash on his cheek still wept and his hands were stained brown with dried blood.

  But his breathing appeared normal. He stood on his own two feet and the constant, undying light of his love still shone bright and true in his gaze.

  Thank God. Her shoulders fell. Tears of relief rushed her eyes. Thank Helios, the Nine or whatever unforgiving deities reigned above he was all right.

  “Well, that sucked.” Not ten minutes ago, they’d been ready to tear each other’s clothes off. Now, as far as she was concerned, they couldn’t get away from the carnage quick enough.

  He chuckled and shook his head, tossing his sword to the ground. “The next time I head into battle, I shall want no one but you—”

  “Just…” She held up her hand. She didn’t need her ego stroked, she wanted him to kiss her. Long and deep and holding her in his arms until she could think of nothing but him. “Come here.” She waved him over with her knife. “Last I checked, you still owed me a memory.”

  His eyebrows shot up, and a moment passed before he tossed his head back with a deep laugh. “Oh, my heart. You are beyond what any man could dream of and—”

  A black missile streaked across her vision. Caedmon grunted and his arms shot forward. From out of nowhere, an arrow’s red fletching pinned him to a tree like some grotesque feathered corsage.

  On instinct, she spun and released. The hashishan flinched and grabbed his throat. A silver blade protruded through his fingers. He pitched forward from his hidden perch in a tree and tumbled headfirst to the ground.

  Hands fisted, arms pumping, she sprinted for Caedmon then pulled up short the second he was within reach. His face was red, eyelids squeezed tight.

  And his fingers.

  A groan gathered momentum in her throat, and she shoved her hands in her hair. They were covered in a sticky brown goo and clutching the arrow penetrating his shoulder.

  Poison. Poison. The arrow would kill him unless she got him help fast.

  No, no, they’d been safe. They’d won. This couldn’t be happening. He was supposed to kiss her not die in these god-forsaken woods.

  The rumble of approaching hooves vibrated the soles of her feet, and she snapped her gaze to the far side of camp. Shit. When that asshole had said more were coming, she didn’t think he meant right now.

  “Okay, okay.” She shook out her hands then placed them on Caedmon’s chest, fingers splayed across his heated skin. “We need to get the arrow out and ride like hell away from this camp.”

  “No.” The shake of his head was sluggish, his pupils dilated and his breathing labored. “Go. Make haste and save yourself.”

  Yep, and evidently the first place the poison attacked was the brain. “Have you lost your mind? I’m not going anywhere without you.”

  Curling her bottom lip over her teeth, she whistled for Belial. A moment later, the stallion trotted out of the trees, snorted and pawed the ground.

  “I know, I know, I’m trying.”

  She gripped the arrow near Caedmon’s hand and tried to make eye contact. His head lolled so bad his chin grazed his chest. “Hang onto your ass, babe. I’ll make this as quick as possible.”

  Bracing her knee between his thighs, she gritted her teeth and…

  A howl popped the veins in his neck as the arrow snapped in their fingers.

  “Sorry, sorry.” She flung the feathers aside and eased him forward, propping each of his heavy arms on her shoulders. He sputtered and gasped. Tears coursed down his cheeks as the jagged end of the arrow slowly disappeared, only to reappear covered in blood as it slid from the hole in his back.

  “Sorry. God, I’m so sorry.” Teetering under his weight, she urged him toward Belial and grabbed the horse’s mane. “Up.” She boosted Caedmon around the waist, but his feet remained planted on the ground. Geez, she might as well have been trying to lift a granite boulder. A glance toward the trees, and she boosted him a second time. “I’ll help you, Caedmon, but I can’t do it alone.”

  He gripped her shoulder and a groan eked from his lips as he blindly waved his other hand, missing Belial by several inches.

  Branches snapped off to her left. Hooves crashed through underbrush and an eerie warrior cry trilled through the trees. They’d run out of time.

  Clenching her teeth, she slapped Caedmon’s backside. “Get on the damn horse, soldier. Right now.”

  He leapt off balance, landing on his stomach along Belial’s hindquarter. Seizing his ankle, she guided his leg in a lumbering swing around the stallion’s rump until he straddled the horse.

  Blood gushed in bright rivulets down his arm. A wide red smear marred the pristine white of Belial’s hide. Snatching a rope off the ground, she looped it around Caedmon’s waist, wrenched him away from Belial’s neck and mounted the horse in front of him. A quick jerk of the rope, a cinched knot and they were tied together. If he fell, she was going right along with him.

  “Hang onto me.” She kicked Belial’s sides and the horse sprang into the trees.

  Twining his mane through her fingers, she steered him left, hoping to skirt the incoming attack. Caedmon bounced like a limp corpse behind her and she tightened her legs to keep them centered.

  Blood. Dear God, so much blood it matted her hair and soaked through her leather pants. And where could she go? What could she do? For Christ’s sake, they were over a day’s ride from the castle and Caedmon was dying before her eyes.

  Hazy light filtered through the branches, and she spurred Belial harder. His stride lengthened and crested as he surged for open ground. They burst from the trees into a wide grassy field. The thunder of his hooves echoed in her chest. The bellows of his lungs expanded and contracted al
ong her inner thighs.

  And ahead, in the distance, the Black Forest.

  A shrill battle cry pierced the wind in her ears. She glanced over her shoulder and terror made her stomach plummet into a freefalling spiral. The flowing black figures of five hashishans rode from the forest, hot on Belial’s tail.

  The wild eyes of their black steeds rolled maniacally, bits foaming at their mouths. Speeding as if possessed by some inner demons, they converged on both sides of her path across the field.

  Belial didn’t stand a chance at outrunning them. Not with Caedmon’s extra weight on his back. She grabbed his arm and leaned them over her stallion’s neck, urging the horse faster. She had only one choice. Ride like hell for the Black Forest and pray the hashishans wouldn’t follow.

  The speed swept the tears from her eyes, dragging them across her cheeks. And then what? They’d be trapped with no help. She’d be resigning Caedmon to a horrible death. Hatred swelled and grew to a living, breathing entity inside her chest.

  So help her God, if Braedric thought this was where things ended, he’d be smart to guess again. Let the Dreggs swarm. Let his hashishans follow her into the forest. She would welcome every last one as a wraith from hell. Nothing short of a swing from the executioner’s axe gonna stop her. Before she took her last breath, she would do whatever was necessary to make that asshole pay.

  An arrow whizzed past her head. She ducked and swerved right. Dart zoomed by and his screech goaded Belial faster. The horse snorted and pitched forward, hoof beats pounding like waves driving the surf.

  A ray of light pierced the mist as the sun beat back the fog. Shadows leapt from the forest, tangled and stretching like long-fingered hands.

  Belial reared and twisted away from the mangled tree line. A chill dried the sweat on her brow. One more glance over her shoulder, and she hitched the horse forward even though he refused to get his ass in gear.

  “No.” Caedmon groaned, his arm tightening at her waist. “Dreggs. Danger. Do not enter.”

  “We’ve got no choice.” And when all was said and done, she’d be with Caedmon. The once place she’d always belonged.