“Oh, I've got you hooked, have I?” Browan chuckled.
“Possibly.”
“Well, you are in luck. There is a table right behind us.”
They moved from the desk to the Tactics table, leaving the tarts but bringing their wine, and Browan set the game up.
Veria tried the strategy her mother had suggested, but Browan was still somehow one step a head of her the whole time. By then end of the game, which she lost, and still never got to use her Mager attack in, she was feeling the warm, pleasant sensation and release of inhibition from the wine.
She leaned toward him across the table. “Another?”
His eyes took her in intently, and his lips parted briefly but not with a smile, with a sharp inhale.
Before he could answer, a loud clap of thunder sounded around the castle, and shook the ground. They both looked toward the nearest window to see sheets of water pouring down the glass pane.
“I suppose so,” Browan said finally. “You can't go home in this.”
“Good,” Veria said, and started to reset her side of the board.
Browan's hand shot out and grabbed hers and she looked up at him, his face serious and his intent eyes on her again.
“You will have to stay the night,” he said. “Even if this clears up, the roads will be pure mud until the sun comes out tomorrow.”
Her heart pounded and she swallowed hard. “Alright,” she said quietly.
“Do you want to send a message to your mother so she doesn't worry?” Browan suggested. “I have a Wind Mager on staff.”
Veria nodded, swallowing hard again as his thumb started to stroke the back of her hand.
“Alright,” he said. “I will send word to him at once.”
But he didn't move for several moments, just sat in his seat, rubbing his thumb across her hand and gazing at her in silence. Finally, he got up and released his hold on her hand, and left the room.
Veria sighed and tried to steady her racing heart. If she had to stay the night, she had no idea what was going to happen...
Browan returned shortly and Veria stood from her chair when he entered the room. He walked over to her and took both her hands in his this time.
“I have sent word, so the message should get to your mother shortly,” he explained, his voice gentle and warm. “But I regret that I have had an issue come up that needs my immediate attention.”
Veria nodded. There was the answer, she thought. Kings don't get the night off, apparently.
“If you follow me, I'll show you where you can rest for the night,” he said, and started to guide her to a door at the opposite end of the library. It led directly into a large, luxurious bedroom, and he walked her right up to the bed, draped with a silky golden canopy and red velvet bedding. “This is my bed. It is the most comfortable in the castle.”
“I can't take your bed,” Veria argued. “Where will you sleep?”
“I might not get any sleep tonight,” he replied, solemnly. “If I do, I certainly can take one of the guest rooms.”
“I don't feel comfortable taking your bed, Browan,” Veria pressed, shaking her head.
He stopped her by taking her chin with his thumb. His eyes bored into hers and his face slowly moved closer. “For me,” he whispered. “Please. You deserve the best.”
She inhaled sharply and her chest went hot as he continued to move toward her. She nodded in agreement.
“Good,” he said, and their lips were practically touching when he did.
He slipped a hand around her back and pulled her in close, and brought her chin the last little bit of space between their faces until their lips met. Veria shuddered as sparks rippled across her skin. Browan gasped as he pulled his lips away slowly, after only a brief gentle kiss.
“Good night, Veria,” he said, stroking her cheek with the back of his hand before releasing her from his hold and turning to leave the room. “Sweetest of dreams,” he said before shutting the door.
Veria's knees quivered and she had to sit down on the trunk at the end of the bed.
She was fairly positive she knew exactly what she was going to dream about.
- III-
The next morning, she woke and dressed in a green satin gown that had been left on the dresser in the King's room with a breakfast tray. She took the breakfast back into the library, planning to eat it at the Tactics table and plot some strategies for whenever their next game would be, but she stopped a few steps in to the library when she saw Browan leaning against the wall, staring out the window, wearing a somber expression and lost deep in thought.
“Good morning,” he said, his voice hoarse and tired.
Veria set the tray down quickly and rushed to his side. “You look exhausted,” she said. “You should get some sleep.”
“I can't go to sleep,” he argued feebly as she pulled one of his barreling arms around her shoulders and started to walk him back to his bed.
“Don't be ridiculous,” Veria rebutted. “You look like you're practically asleep on your feet. You need rest.”
Once in his bedroom he rounded on her and grabbed her shoulders firmly. “I cannot sleep,” he barked, his tone grave, but also full of anxiety.
“Browan, what is going on?” she asked, her voice quiet and concerned.
“Last night, I received a report that the border guards had reason to believe that assassins entered the kingdom.”
“Assassins?” Veria repeated. “That's what you had to go deal with?”
“Yes. I have sent out search parties, I ordered double security on the castle, but...” he sighed and shook his head. “You should go. They're after me, there's no doubt about it, and I can't have you getting hurt for being near me. I don't want anyone to get hurt because of this.”
Veria shook her head. “No,” she said firmly. “No, I am not going to leave you.”
“Oh, Veria, don't be ridiculous,” he argued, dropping his hands from her shoulders and shaking his head. “It's dangerous to be here. I don't want you here.”
“Well, that's too bad,” she snapped. “I am staying.”
“Why?” he snapped back. “Do you have some kind of death wish?”
“No, I am staying because I can take care of myself and I don't need you to worry about me,” she replied. “And I am not going to leave you at a time when you need a friend!”
Browan laughed. “You are something else, Veria,” he said. “I do not doubt for one minute that you can take care of yourself, but I don't think you know what you're up against.”
“I have a pretty good idea, actually,” she retorted. “Now, you get in bed and I'll keep a look out.”
“You are insane,” he shook his head and let out a chortle of disbelief.
“Possibly,” she said, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him backward toward the bed. “And you are exhausted, which isn't going to do you any favors at a time like this.”
He sighed as he sat on the bed. “You're right. You are completely right,” he admitted. “Just an hour, though.”
She shook her head as she knelt to the floor to take off his boots for him. “Two, at least,” she demanded.
“Are you giving orders to the King?” he laughed.
“Yes,” she answered firmly.
He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her up to standing, then moved his hands down to her waist.
“You, my Lady, are arrogant and infuriatingly difficult,” he murmured.
“As are you, Your Majesty,” she replied, her tone low and seductive.
He didn't waste another second, clutching his hands into her sides and pulling her into him so she was standing in between his legs, their torsos sealed together as he moved a hand up to her face to pull it into his. He was tall enough that even seated on the bed, their faces were level.
But he didn't kiss her right away, and heat built in her body as he just stared at her lips and they exchanged warm, trembling breaths.
“We should wait,” he murmured.
> “If you wish,” Veria whispered, her throat tight.
“I don't know if I can,” Browan purred.
Veria didn't think that she could either, but she stayed silent, waiting for him to decide, to make the move. His lips brushed against hers and she gasped, and that was all the encouragement he needed, pulling her into a deep kiss, pressing his hard lips into hers with urgency.
One hand reached around to the small of her back and pulled her in closer, positioning the other at the nape of her neck, snaking his fingers through her blonde curls. A soft moan caught in her throat as his hand explored her backside, and he groaned in response.
He broke his lips away abruptly. “I am sorry, but you have to take this off,” he said, grabbing at the satin dress. “It was mother's.”
Veria stepped back and turned her back to him so he could undo the buttons. She heard his loud, heavy breathing as he fumbled each button out of its hole, then finally untied the sash around the waist, and it slipped off of her skin like a sheet and crumpled at her feet, leaving her in her undergarments.
He stood quickly and wrapped his strong arms around her, taking her neck in his mouth. Her head fell back and her body released into his strong hold.
“You are supposed to be sleeping,” she purred.
“Not a chance,” he whispered in her ear as his hands moved all over her body. He suddenly grabbed her by the waist and spun her around to face him, taking her back into an impassioned, urgent kiss.
She started to maneuver him back to the bed when she heard a thump from the library. She jumped and broke them apart.
“What?” he asked.
“I heard...” she whispered as she walked to the door between the rooms, still open.
Both of them breathed loudly from their arousal, but she tried to steady hers as she peeked into the library.
“Veria,” Browan whispered. “Let's find the guards. It's not safe.”
She didn't see anything in the library, but she knew she wouldn't be able to see them, if they were the type of assassins she expected they'd be...invisible Wind Magers.
She'd have to figure out some other way to detect their presence. She looked all over the room, eyes darting wildly until she saw it, a scattering of ash and embers across the floor near the fireplace, which was relatively close to the door into the bedroom. The servant that brought new logs in the morning must have made a mess. She searched for the little bit of Fire energy left in the ashes and embers, connecting to it, as dull as it was—it didn't matter, she just needed to feel if something disturbed it, brushed it with their invisible feet...
“Veria, love, come away from there,” Browan pleaded, coming toward her.
Just as he put his hand on her arm, she felt it—the ash dragged across the floor, an ember shifted an inch—they were coming. She spun around and shoved Browan away from her with all her might, and she felt them closing in as she turned back to the door and prepared to slam it shut.
A whoosh of air and a rip of clothing sounded before she got the door shut and locked.
“Veria!” Browan shouted rushing toward her. He pressed his hand into her side and she looked down to see scarlet blood spreading across the cream linen of her chemise. Browan's hands shook as her blood covered them, but she knew she didn't have long to do something—they would break down the door in a matter of seconds.
Throwing any caution she had out the window, she connected with the Fire and Earth in her bracelet, and began to heat the stone of the floor in front of them. Wincing and gasping at the pain in her side, she pulled a sheet of liquid rock up around them, not completely encompassing, but a semi-circle on three sides, and cooled it solid again, just as she had done many times in the magma chamber with Strelzar.
“What the Fire?” Browan exclaimed, looking at the wall she'd just created from his floor in awe, but keeping his hands pressed into her wound.
The door flung open, and Browan jumped. Veria took a deep breath, and held it, as did Browan, waiting until she heard them get closer...close enough...
They reached out and touched the wall, she felt it, the energy of the wall rejecting the intrusion of the Wind energy. She latched onto the energy of the metal hinges and wooden planks of the door and wrenched it from its place, pulling it swiftly toward the wall where the assassin had just touched the wall. The heavy door slammed into the assassin, in turn knocking them into the rock wall and continuing to press them into it.
“The reports from the border said two,” Browan whispered anxiously.
Quickly, Veria cracked the wall into several large chunks and sent each chunk hurtling through the air in a different direction. One made contact almost right next to them, knocking the assassin unconscious, causing their invisibility to break and their form, shrouded in a white cloak, to reveal itself.
They both snapped their heads to look at the other assassin, laying on top of the door, sandwiched by one of the slabs of rock, limp and still and visible, also in a white shroud.
Browan scooped Veria up in his arms and rushed out of the room, breathing heavily as he ran down the hall. “Guards! Guards!” he yelled, his voice frantic, as a slew of guards rushed toward him. “Assassins in my chambers. Two of them. Get them down to the dungeon immediately!” he ordered, but Veria had seen the blood pooling underneath their heads...and they hadn't been breathing. She didn't think there was anyone alive to take to the dungeon.
The guards all rushed off, and Browan took off running again, Veria jostling against his hard chest with each of his sprinting strides.
The pain finally caught up with her. She must have been too focused on fighting the assassins off before to notice it then, but now...she could hardly breathe, and each thudding footfall of Browan's mad dash sent stabbing pain spiraling through her entire body. She felt like her whole chemise was soaked through with the cold dampness of her blood, but she didn't dare look. In fact, she was sure she wouldn't be able to lift her head to do so, and her vision had started to go blurry. Her head flopped back, where it bounced around like a rag doll's as Browan ran down a spiraling staircase.
“Veria! No!” he yelled as her eyes fluttered and closed. “Wake up! We're almost there, honey.”
She tried to open her eyes and lift her head, but she couldn't do either, and her head crashed into his chest, where she heard his heart pounding loudly and racing like a galloping horse. She shivered as her body went cold, and she clutched at Browan's shirt as if it might warm her.
“Browan...” she whispered, afraid she couldn’t hold on through the pain and cold much longer.
“Veria, just stay with me, honey. We're headed to the infirmary. We are almost there.”
But she couldn't stand the pain anymore, and blackness claimed her.
- IV-
Veria awoke to stabbing pain in her side and looked around the room, moving just her eyes so as not to invite more pain from moving any part of her body. She was in a bed, but not in the King's bedroom, obviously, since she had destroyed the door and part of the floor and surely had caused damage with her projectiles. The canopy above her was gauzy, and she could see through it to the high windows, noting that silvery moonlight poured through them, instead of daylight.
She had been out all day...
Taking in the rest of the room, she felt Browan's hands clasping one of hers. Wincing and groaning through the pain of the slightest movement of her neck, which she wouldn't expect to disturb her side but apparently it did, she looked to the other side of the bed where Browan lay next to her on his side, asleep. Her groan must have woken him, as he stirred a bit and his eyes opened groggily. Once he realized she was awake, however, they shot open and he squeezed her hand.
“Thank goodness you're awake,” he sighed, his voice relieved and emotional.
“Thank you for saving me,” Veria whispered.
“Are you kidding me?” Browan asked, scrunching his face at her. “You saved me. From two invisible assassins! Veria, I didn't do anything but get you to the
physician in time to stop your bleeding. But I would be dead if you hadn't insisted on staying with me.” His face went soft and he reached out and ran a his fingers along her forehead, then tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Thank you.”
“I did what anyone would have done,” Veria murmured. “Protect their King.”
“Actually,” Browan said, slowly, a serious looking taking over his face, “you did a lot of things that nobody else can do.”
Veria swallowed hard and felt nervousness join the pain her abdomen.
“No, no,” Browan said, squeezing her hand and scooting closer to her on the bed. “No, don't worry. It's alright. You are not in trouble. I promise. I won't say anything.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, feeling a lump form in her throat, partly because of the pain, but partly from the swell of emotions from the day, and realizing how close she had come to dying, or to Browan throwing her in a dungeon if he hadn't been okay with her use of hard elementals.
“Unless you want me to...” he added softly.
“What? What do you mean?” she asked, wincing in pain.
Browan jumped up from the bed quickly and rushed to a desk in the room, grabbing a vial off its surface and bringing it back to Veria.
“For the pain,” he said, and slid a hand under her head, lifting it gently just enough for her to get a better angle to drink and swallow the elixir, which he held to her lips with his other hand.
She drank it in a single gulp, marveling at how it tasted like a combination of dew from a berry bush and the thick, humid air after a storm.
“It should take just a few minutes to start working,” Browan said, sitting at her side. He still looked exhausted, even more so now than he had this morning. How long had he kept vigil by her side? she wondered. Had the stress of her injury affected him more than the anxiety of the assassins the previous night?
“What do you mean, 'unless I want you to'?” Veria repeated.
“I mean,” Browan said slowly, looking her in the eyes, “that I can reinstate the Elemental Guard.”
The Twin Dragons: Book III in the Elementals Series Page 3