by A. J. Nuest
“Uh huh, that’s because women are smarter than men.”
“Stop interrupting.” He smacked her bottom and she jumped, jerking her head up. One dark eyebrow rose and he tsked three times, his palm rubbing the slight sting in her right butt cheek. “Be a good girl or I shall demand recompense for my tale other than a simple cozy by the fire.”
She narrowed her eyes at him even as excitement tightened her stomach. Her breath caught as she imagined all the titillating ways he might exact such a reward, and the eagerness with which she would strive to fulfill his every request. “Finish the story.”
Lips pursed against a rebellious smirk, she replaced her cheek to his chest. Evidently the man harbored quite the playful side, as well.
“The heart of the moon goddess grew heavy with sorrow, so she took it upon herself to visit Helios, intent to mend the schism between father and nine daughters. The moment she broke the horizon, he became enraptured by her beauty and blazed bright. With rays flaming, he raced across the sky, aimed for goddess, for he knew, at last, he had found his true love.”
Her cheeks lifted in a delighted grin. His story exactly mirrored the two of them, the way he’d chased after her during his homecoming celebration. She sighed. How like Helios and Selene they had been that night. “I love this story.”
Caedmon’s soft chuckle created the perfect bass undertone to the beat of his heart. His hand swept the length of her side and her eyelids fluttered closed when he squeezed her shoulder. “Mistaking his passion for rage, Selene grew frightened by his scorching advance, for she had not the occasion to meet so radiant a being, and fled in terror back to her throne.
“The sun god chased after her but, no matter his speed, the moon goddess evaded capture, gathering the night near. In desperate search of refuge, she hid her face behind the veil of her ebony cloak.”
A new moon. He was describing a new moon, the reason for its disappearance. Or perhaps, he was describing her. She bit her bottom lip and hugged him tighter still.
“Helios grieved for the pale goddess’ return. Forever lost to him was the splendor of his utmost love. In a fit of despair and self-loathing, he rent pieces of his being and flung them from far from view.
“Yet with his sacrifice, hope sparked anew. For when the glittering flames appeared in Selene’s realm, she risked a peek outside her dark shroud.”
Rowena rolled her head to the side. She blinked up at the night sky and, for the first time, imagined the glowing crescent of the waxing moon as a frightened goddess, peering out from behind an inky curtain, on the lookout for the fiery god who so ardently pursued her. Another roll of her head and she pressed her lips to the soft fabric of Caedmon’s shirt, breathing the clean scent of him deep into her lungs. Thank the nine he hadn’t given up on her. If not for his persistence, she’d be alone now, cold and alone. Fighting the same desolation she’d lived since the day he’d been wrenched from her arms.
“The eldest of the nine recognized Selene’s curiosity. So driven by love and the chance to earn her father’s favor, Fortuna perched on the cusp of both realms, awaiting the moment she could ensnare the sun god’s attention and convey the rending of his spirit had not been in vain.”
Yes, yes, she’d seen that star. The one hovering on the horizon right before nightfall.
“Helios’ desires flared and burned hot when he learned all was not lost, so he tore out his white heart, split the chambers in his fierce fist and tossed the embers toward his love, night after night, until his diamond offerings lay scattered at her feet, lighting all the dark corners of her realm.”
A tear crept past her lashes and she held a breath against the aching sorrow building in her throat. How much of this story was legend, and how much embodied the man in her arms? The similarities were too many to count.
“With each evening, as more and more stars appeared, Selene crept farther and farther from her hiding spot, until at last she stood, round and full, in awe of her sun god’s devotion.
“When next she broke the horizon, Helios remained centered, waiting, having learned patience should his love be quick to flee. As she slowly approached, her white pale to his fiery glow, they were joined as one and a vibrant brilliance bathed the land from sea to sea. Life sprang forth and prospered, abundance was made free. And from this, their eternal love, man was born.”
Rowena hitched a breath and held tight to his waist. Caedmon offered her that same patience even now. Even when she didn’t deserve it.
“Witnessing the divine proof of their union, the god and goddess rejoiced. Selene eventually made to depart back to her throne, though she vowed to return, as she has throughout the ages, so the two of them can be reunited and all creatures may bask in their love.”
“Oh, Caedmon.” Rowena sniffed and wiped another bloated tear from her cheek. “That’s beautiful.”
“Shhh, my love,” he whispered, rubbing her shoulder. “Sleep, now. You are safe. We have finally come home to one another’s arms.”
Chapter Three
A shiver jerked her awake. Rowena clutched the blanket around her body, fists curled in a tight ball under her chin. Her shoulder and hip ached as if shards of glass had leeched from the ground and settled into her joints. Another bone-wrenching shiver and she clenched her chattering teeth. Cold…so cold…
Past the lacy shadows of her lashes, the fire had died to a pile of gray ash. Tendrils of thick fog snaked through the nearby trees, carpeting the small clearing in a clandestine blanket of white silence. High on a nearby branch rested the shadow of a large falcon, his head tucked beneath the feathers of one wing.
She rolled to her other side and the undulating heat of a sun-baked sand dune kissed her cheeks, emanating from a body of lean muscle wrapped in honey-gold skin.
Caedmon lay on his back, deep breaths spilling from his slightly parted lips, ebony hair a curtain of night caressing his shoulders.
Pressing her lips together to contain a smile, she eased closer and gently tugged his shirt tails from the front of his leather pants. She snuck her hand inside and he flinched when she placed her icy palm on his warm stomach. A low chuckle tickled the back of her throat. It was an evil way to wake him, but she wasn’t sorry in the slightest. After the tender way he’d cared for her last night, his presence called to her a level much deeper than mere body heat could provide.
“Sweet tits, you’re chilled to the bone,” he murmured, enveloping her in his arms and bringing her flush to his side.
A moment later his heavy breathing resumed, the hand at her waist went slack. She glanced around the hushed forest and raised a devious brow. A girl had to wonder. Would the rest of his body afford the same pleasure she’d found in his arms last night? Would it be as endowed as the blunt-tipped fingers he’d thrust through her hair? The opportunity for discovery was too tempting to resist.
The downy hair near his waistband gave way to a smooth expanse of sultry skin as she glided her palm higher, exploring the landscape of grooved muscle in his chest and abs. Over one thickly toned pec and she cupped the curve of his shoulder, trailed her fingertips along his collarbone to the shallow dip in the base of his throat. His pulse vibrated through the thin skin and the hair on her nape tingled in anticipation. A heady pulse of arousal heated and moistened the inner folds between her thighs.
A slow journey with her fingertips along his other collar bone and she continued her languid perusal, lightly dragging her nails down to the sweet circle of his left nipple.
Beneath the pad of her index finger, the silky ring tightened and peaked, a delightfully pointed nub she flicked and then rubbed. A graze of her nails over to his other side and his right nipple received the same devotion, until it pebbled beneath her finger and a husky groan rumbled in his chest.
The hand at her waist tightened, the digits flexed and squeezed her hip. Desire warmed her cheeks and she shuddered when he eased his hand inside the small gap of leather at her lower back.
She would let him go where he wanted. Not one per
son in all her time at the castle had shown her the same level of respect he displayed.
The rough calluses on his palm teased the vulnerable skin of her ass. His pinky traced the crease of her bottom as he edged his hand lower, his fingers gripping and seeking within the tight confines of her fitted pants.
Skin gliding against skin, she swept her hand low, raked her splayed fingers through the soft line of hair below his bellybutton. A breath rasped from his lips and his stomach contracted as she pried her fingertips under his waistband and slipped her hand inside. Less than an inch and her fingers forked around the bulbous tip of his rigid cock. Velvet over steel, his shaft pulsed against the center of her palm as she stroked him from base to tip, gauging the full length of him. A vision of him naked, braced on his arms as he rocked into her, ignited a throb of need that made the ground tilt off-kilter. The man did not disappoint.
A sweep of her thumb over the swollen head and a feral growl breached his throat. She squeezed her eyes closed when he thrust his hand deeper and grasped her from behind, parting the base of her ass to flit his fingers along the valley of her core.
Ecstasy flooded her veins, and she gasped when he shackled her wrist, wrenched her hand from his pants and rolled on top of her. His unyielding erection nestled in the vee of her legs. The steel band of his grip held her hand captive near her shoulder. His parted lips stole near, but he hesitated, his breath bathing her cheek as he held them poised on the edge of a kiss.
Fierce hunger swirled amid the depths of his gaze, yet he squinted. Behind his desire, a desperate question lingered. One that spoke to her soul without the necessity of words.
Was she inviting him in? Did her actions convey her final trust and belief in his love? And by all the nine goddesses, please let the answer be yes.
She smiled into his eyes, his unending patience stoking the deep yearning within her. She did trust him. Every step he’d taken had led them to this place. Each word he’d uttered filled with the promise of his devotion.
She worked her hand free of his grip and ran a fingertip along the supple curve of his bottom lip. And what’s more, unlike the moments they’d shared before their fated kiss on the verandah, no pain edged up the back of her head. No throb or sharp jab invaded her skull.
Her smile transformed into a grin.
He’d been right that first night they had met. As long as she avoided their time before she came through the mirror, thoughts of him brought her no discomfort. If she kept her mind centered on their future, she could enjoy everything he had to offer without pain.
Like black, iridescent feathers, his long hair slipped through her fingers as she cupped the base of his neck. One heavy ribbon fell sleek and cool against her mouth as she lowered his ear to her lips. “Let’s make a new memory,” she breathed.
He pulled back so fast, her hand dropped to broad plane of his shoulder. His wide eyes danced over her face as if he were trying to weigh her sincerity.
Did he need more convincing? Good.
Biting her bottom lip, she thrust against him, emphasizing her enthusiasm with a leisurely grind of her hips. Passion darkened his gaze and he sucked in a hiss. His eyes rolled back in his head and her pulse stuttered then soared with excitement.
She tightened her arm around him, bringing him down to her lips and, when he grinned and nodded, she happily nodded in return. A slight tilt of his head—
A twig snapped.
Caedmon froze, his focus riveted to hers, muscles coiled and tense under her palm. Irritation hardened his features, quickly chased by thin-lipped fear.
Dammit, they’d been found. But by who?
The answer leapt into Caedmon’s eyes. It didn’t matter. A garrison of Seviere’s men was too great a risk to ignore. Fight now, reason later…or prepare to be arrested…mayhap worse.
She nodded and pressed against him to stand, but he tightened his grip, keeping her in place. With a subtle tip of his head, he indicated his intent to head for the weapons he’d left near his saddlebags. She jerked her chin in the opposite direction, hoping to convey her plan to sprint for the trees. If they were about to be attacked, her best offense would be to see without being seen. Use the fog to transform her into a lethal phantom, striking from within the cover of the forest.
The frustration returned to his clenched jaw and he shook his head with a muted sigh before pecking her lips. She suppressed a chuckle even as he shoved off the ground and raced for his sword. Evidently, his annoyance at being interrupted rankled just as much as his concern for their safety.
A discordant twang pinged and bounced through the trees as she scrambled to her feet in a mad dash for the woods. A thick arrow thudded into the ground, piercing the center of her bedroll. Dart screeched and took wing to the sky.
All hell broke loose. Shouts and thrashing branches crowded in from every side. Grisly music sang through the air as arrows strummed from their bows and whirred a deadly hailstorm overhead. The horses screamed and reared, dislodging their wickets. Hooves pounded earth as they galloped pell-mell from the fray.
A flash of black caught her eye and she scowled, veering toward a large fir. Someone hid, just on the other side, and only one group she’d had the misfortune to meet 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 their expressions behind a veil of black cloth.
Dread pierced her heart even as a roar of hatred fought her need to remain silent. Chances were high that she and Caedmon were outnumbered at least four or five to one. Though they hunted in packs, never more than ten hashishans deployed at a time. Their presumed superiority with a blade and insatiable bloodlust instilled terror in their victims, granting their parties the authority to remain small.
Still, their attack made no sense. Did Braedric really think Caedmon needed their assistance to escort her back to Castle Austiere?
Snatching a silver-laced cord from the side of her boot, she dodged closer. A whirl of the weighted end, and she flung the jot just under the lowest branches of the targeted fir. She snagged the cord from the air and yanked. A sputter and gasp of surprise, and she smiled. Her aim had swung true. She gathered the slack and wrenched her fists close to her jaw. Pressing a bent knee to the trunk, she used the force of her weight to slam the nape of her victim’s neck against the rough bark.
“What do you want?” she ground through gnashed teeth, jerking hard on the cord to emphasize her gravity. “Tell me now or I swear by Helios I will split your head from your shoulders.”
The hashishan’s wheezing laugh chilled the marrow in her bones, demented and sour with glee. “Death-h-h,” he rasped. “I seek death-h-h…”
A flurry of movement, and the spurt of a warm liquid spattered her chin and arms. She dropped the cord and withdrew, holding her scarlet-laced hands to either side of her face. A swipe of her forearm across her jaw and her anger morphed into ice-cold disbelief, freezing her feet to ground.
The hashishan gurgled and slumped to the forest floor, a bloodstained knife clutched in his fist. A gaping slash bisected his throat, oozing what life remained in his veins, shiny red rivulets mingling with the orange and yellow leaves cushioning his head.
He’d killed himself. Sweet tits of the nine, he’d killed himself.
She shook her head and cautiously eased back another step, searching his ashen face for answers. Confession or death, and he’d chosen death. What the hell had Braedric threatened him with to make suicide the preferable choice?
A panic she’d never experienced before impaled its malevolent fingers through her chest. This was no simple “go seek out the rebellious sorceress and cart her back to the castle.” No, no, something entirely more sinister was happ—
A clang of silver and the roar of a battle cry ricocheted through the trees. Rowena whirled toward their campsite. Caedmon! Helios wept, were Braedric’s men sent to kill them both?
All thoughts of self-
preservation vanished. She sprinted through the forest, mindless of the wicked branches whipping her cheeks and clawing at her loose hair. Adrenaline surged through her veins. Her heart thumped a deafening rhythm in her ears. A leap over some low brush and her breath seized. Caedmon struggled to fend off four attackers, his chest heaving as he dodged and weaved, deflecting their wide scimitars blow for blow. His shirt hung in tatters from his shoulders. Bright red tears bled down one side of his face. Two dead men sprawled on the ground near his feet.
A wild spin to gather her momentum and three silver stars whizzed through the air, homing in on the lead attacker. Snick! Snick! Snick! He howled and arched his back, face aimed at the sky, fingers grappling for the sharp intrusions. On a rustle of wings, Dart swooped low, talons extended. The hashishan shrieked, his hands flapping at his face. The sucking sluice of wet cartilage flipped her stomach as the falcon veered skyward, two white orbs trapped in his talons, gore dripping from the assailant’s eyeballs.
Another of the vipers twirled, peeled off from the group and charged straight toward her, gutting his colleague and tossing him aside when the blind man floundered and staggered into his path.
Yet the threat of his menacing approach didn’t matter. She’d bettered the odds—two against one. At the very least, she’d offered Caedmon a fighting chance.
She whirled and raced for the woods, zeroed in on the first low-hanging branch and leapt, swinging hands to feet up the tree. A biting sting scorched the flesh of her calf. The world reeled as leather split and her boot peeled down her leg. A scream of pain and defiance erupted from her throat. Asshole! He was gonna pay for that!
A second biting nip to the side of her thigh and she slapped her palm to the sting. Her fingers closed around a leather cord and she sharply inhaled. A cluster of hooked barbs decorated the end of the hashashin’s whip, sticky with venom. One puncture of her skin and the poison would spread, slowly eat her flesh down to bone.
She wedged her heel between a fork in the branches, implanted the barbs in the wood and heaved the leather cord with all her might. The pursuing hashishan stumbled as he was dragged forward, tripped on a root and quickly righted his balance. But his minute blunder presented her a much-needed window. 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.