The Journal Keeper (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Leerene Evans

  “Are you planning on going somewhere, my lady?” the one directly across from her asked.

  “Um, yeah. We were going to go to the smithy,” Rianne said, eying him cautiously.

  “We will accompany you.”

  As one, they surrounded her and Carme, creating a tight box of manliness. Rianne linked her arm with Carme’s as they walked along, the men taking shorter steps to match the two women’s stride. The minute they stepped outside the castle, every one of them went on high alert, constantly scanning the area around them. It reminded Rianne of the way Dorin had acted after the shots in the field.

  When they arrived at the smithy, one of the wolves walked inside while the other three remained around the two of them. Rianne rolled her eyes at Carme, silently communicating how ridiculous she found their overbearing nature. She highly doubted the shooter would be lying in wait behind the big blacksmith who kept snorting at the warriors.

  “Calm yourself, Tiran. The prince’s mate wishes to see the lemming,” one of the men said.

  “Hosym!” the blacksmith shouted, glaring at the warriors.

  A shorter man came hurrying from the back of the smithy, his brown hair stuck to his head from the heat of the fire. He was covered in soot, but the moment he caught sight of Carme, his gray eyes lit up and a grin split his face.

  “Carme, what are you doing here?” Hosym asked, coming forward to kiss her sweetly.

  “Lady Rianne wanted to meet you,” Carme explained, indicating where Rianne stood slightly behind them.

  “My lady. It is an honor. My mate has told me much about you.” Hosym bowed.

  “I’ve heard a lot about you as well. It’s nice to finally meet you.” Rianne smiled, holding out a hand for him to shake.

  “Forgive me, my lady. Blacksmith’s hands,” Hosym apologized, holding up his blackened hands.

  “That’s what we have soap and water for,” Rianne persisted, reaching for his hand anyway.

  “Carme was right, you are an odd one.” Hosym chuckled, shaking her hand.

  “I did not say that! I just said she was different,” Carme exclaimed.

  “It’s all right, Carme. I understand,” Rianne assured her, laughing slightly.

  “You’re horrid,” Carme accused her mate.

  Hosym didn’t bother responding, simply leaned down and kissed her again. Rianne couldn’t help but smile at the obvious love he had for Carme. She never would’ve believed he had kidnapped her and forced the mating ceremony on her if Carme hadn’t told her. Looking at the two of them, she only saw love.

  “I need to get back to work,” Hosym said regretfully when they finally pulled apart.

  “That’s all right. I need to take Lady Rianne to meet Sir Nikolas in the lists,” Carme told him.

  “It was nice to meet you, Lady Rianne.” Hosym bowed again.

  “It was nice to meet you, too,” Rianne replied, giving him a smile as he went back into the smithy.

  Carme gave a soft sigh, watching him walk away, before turning to link her arm through Rianne’s.

  “He’s sweet,” Rianne commented, watching her friend.

  “He is. Gods, I love that man,” Carme gushed.

  “I can tell,” Rianne teased as the guards surrounded them again.

  They walked toward the lists, and Rianne wondered what Nikolas wanted with her.

  “Did Nikolas tell you what he wanted?” Rianne asked as they got closer.

  “No, just that he wanted me to bring you after breakfast,” Carme shrugged.

  They turned the corner to the lists, and Rianne spotted Nikolas instantly. He was in the middle of what looked like a battle zone. He was taking on four other warriors by himself, furious in his efficiency as he cut down one after another. By the time they’d come to a stop along the wall near the center of the field, Nikolas was the only one standing.

  “That was absolutely pathetic. All of you, twenty laps around the castle walls. After that, I want you to spar with Kesring. Maybe he can get you pups into shape,” Nikolas snarled at the men struggling to stand.

  Without bothering to wait for them to start their run, Nikolas turned and strode across the list toward where Rianne stood with Carme and the four guards. With a wave of his hand, the men disbanded and hurried to their own training.

  “Hello, capora,” Nikolas greeted her softly, leaning down to place his lips against hers.

  Despite the fact that he was sweaty, she found she didn’t mind so much as her hands moved to his shoulders to pull him closer. Seeing it as an invitation, his thick arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her off her feet so he could kiss her easier. His teeth nibbled along her lower lip until she opened, granting him the access he wanted. His tongue slipped inside, dominating her mouth as he set up a thrust and retreat that left her pussy feeling incredibly swollen.

  “Wow,” Rianne breathed when he placed her back down on her feet.

  Nikolas shot her a confident smirk and turned to Carme.

  “Thank you for bringing her. Feel free to spend the rest of the morning as you would. She’ll be staying with me,” Nikolas informed her.

  “As you wish, sir,” Carme curtsied.

  She gave Rianne a mischievous grin as she walked away, but Rianne was quickly captivated by the man in front of her, who was stripping off his sweat-soaked shirt. While it wasn’t the first time she had seen him without his shirt on, she couldn’t take her eyes off the way his chest and arm rippled with every move he made. His torso was littered with scars, attesting to his life as a warrior, but they did nothing to mar his masculine perfection. Each mark spoke of battles won, of his superiority over other men, and not just on the battlefield. He dominated everyone around him, the other men around him obviously intimidated by his utter masculinity, something that called to the primal part of Rianne. She had to physically keep herself from walking over and starting to rub over him like a cat in heat. Watching him run a hand through his white-blond hair, Rianne had to bite back a moan at the ache that speared through her midsection.

  “Capora,” Nikolas growled, his hands gripping her hips to pull her closer.

  She gasped as he ran his nose along the column of her throat, his tongue darting out to lick at her sensitive skin.

  “I can smell how much you want me,” Nikolas continued, still in that gravelly voice.

  “Your fault,” Rianne gasped, unable to bring her thoughts together under his assault.

  “Mmm. I take full responsibility.” Nikolas chuckled darkly as he pulled away.

  Rianne pouted up at him, missing the feel of his lips on her skin, but he simply gave her a wink and stood before her with his feet braced apart.

  “Why do you look like you’re about to go into battle?” Rianne asked nervously.

  “Because, you are going to train with me.”

  “I’m sorry, what?” Rianne asked, sure she’d heard him wrong.

  “You’re going to learn how to fight, Rianne. We’ve been lucky the past two times you were shot at, but that luck could run out very quickly. I know learning how to fight won’t protect you against a bullet, but it will protect you if this bastard comes at you without a gun,” Nikolas explained.

  Rianne couldn’t argue with his logic, and so she nodded her consent. Nikolas’s expression instantly softened, and he stepped forward to take her into his arms.

  “I pray that you never have to use what I’m going to teach you, but I need you to be safe,” Nikolas murmured into her hair.

  “I understand, and you’re right. I do need to learn,” Rianne reassured him.

  He pressed his lips to her forehead before backing away and leading her to where a selection of swords was resting against the wall. Nikolas picked up a relatively small one and handed it to her.

  “We’ll start with rapiers. They’re the lightest swords available, but no less deadly for their weightless feel,” Nikolas explained as she tested the weight of it.

  Rianne swung the sword back and forth a few times before letting
it hang by her side, waiting for Nikolas’s instruction. He gave her a sly smile as he moved around to stand behind her, his hand covering hers on the slight sword while his other moved to her waist.

  “Have you ever danced with a man before, capora?” Nikolas asked, his voice a husky breath in her ear.

  Rianne shook her head, unable to respond.

  “Sword fighting is very similar to dancing. There are certain steps every swordsman knows and a set of countersteps. Every move has a countermove,” Nikolas told her as he began moving her arm in front of them.

  Rianne tried to pay attention as he taught her the names of the moves he was putting her through, but with him holding her, the only thing she could focus on was the feel of his arm around her and his hand in hers.

  “You’re not paying attention,” Nikolas cautioned with a low rumble.

  “You’re distracting me,” Rianne accused, though it lacked any real heat.

  “That’s the point. In battle, there are many distractions. You need to learn how to ignore them and focus on the sword in your hand,” Nikolas instructed.

  She groaned in frustration as he continued to lead her through the steps. She wasn’t sure how long they stood in the lists, working on her swordplay, but by the time Dorin came to find them, Rianne had learned how to parry, lunge, and thrust.

  “Ah, good, so he convinced you to spar.” Dorin grinned as he came forward.

  “I don’t know if you can call this sparring, but he convinced me to learn,” Rianne countered, lowering the rapier.

  “She’s doing very well for someone who’s never held a sword before,” Nikolas commented to Dorin.

  Rianne beamed gleefully under his praise, swinging the sword playfully at the two of them, being careful to avoid hitting either of them.

  “Once you’ve learned enough, you and I will have to spar. Nikolas surpasses my skill with a broadsword, but I can hold my own against him with the rapier,” Dorin said with an easygoing smile.

  “Definitely,” Rianne agreed excitedly.

  “Would the two of you care to come in for supper, or do you intend to skip another meal?” Dorin asked, bringing their attention to the lateness of the day.

  Neither one had realized they had skipped the midday meal, so Rianne was surprised to find that it was time for supper. Her stomach let out a very loud rumble as if voicing its anger over missing a meal.

  “You go with Dorin. I need to see to the men about training tomorrow,” Nikolas said, taking the rapier from her and walking away.

  Rianne threaded her arm through Dorin’s, and he began leading her back into the castle.

  “Did you enjoy your time with Nikolas?” Dorin asked as they climbed the few steps to the front door.

  “I did. He’s a very good teacher,” Rianne commented absently.

  “It’s why he’s top of the Guard,” Dorin nodded.

  “What did you do today?” Rianne asked.

  “I spent most of the day with my father. He and I have been discussing me taking over the throne, but I’m reluctant to do so until this assassin is caught. I don’t want to put any of us in any more danger,” Dorin told her.

  “But I’m sure your parents are ready to retire,” Rianne said as they neared the dining hall.

  “They are. It’s why I’m trying to take on more of Father’s work without taking the crown. That way he gets more time to spend with Mother, but it doesn’t put us in any greater danger,” Dorin explained.

  “You said it yourself, Dorin. This assassin is after me. How would you becoming king make me a bigger target?” Rianne asked, bringing them both to a stop in the middle of the hallway.

  “Because me being king would make you queen,” Dorin answered, running the backs of his fingers across her cheek.

  “But wouldn’t that give me more protection?” Rianne asked.

  “It might, but it also might make them that much more eager to…finish the job,” Dorin murmured, clearly struggling with thoughts of her death.

  “Either way, I’m in danger. That won’t change based off what you decide,” Rianne insisted gently.

  “Still, I won’t make you a bigger target for this asshole,” Dorin vowed, leaning his forehead against hers.

  That’s how Nikolas found them moments later, Dorin’s hands holding hers to his chest and his forehead pressed against hers, eyes closed. Rianne gave him a tentative smile, holding out a hand for his. He walked forward slowly to place his hand in hers, and she pulled him closer until she was surrounded by them. Within their arms, she felt strong enough to take on the entire world and strong on the knowledge that she’d never have to do it alone.

  * * * *

  Rianne had Silal’s study to herself as she continued reading Merlin’s journal. While she no longer planned on returning to her home, she did continue translating the text so that others in Laurasia and Gondwanaland would be able to learn from the book. Silal was especially excited to read the end results, to learn from the greatest wizard who’d ever lived.

  She had just hit her groove when a knock on the door interrupted her. Expecting it to be either Dorin or Carme, Rianne didn’t bother to look up as she called out for the person to come in.

  “Ah, working hard I see.”

  Rianne looked up in surprise at the childlike voice to find Morna coming to lean over the table she was working at.

  “I was expecting it to be someone else,” Rianne admitted, nervous as the woman peered down at her notes.

  “Oh, I’m sure you were, my dear.” Morna nodded with a wide smile.

  “Can I help you with something?” Rianne asked slowly.

  “No, no. I just came to see how the journal was progressing. I would have checked in sooner, of course, but I was called away to the High Witches’ Council to induct a new member. A very powerful young witch. She’ll be a great asset to us,” Morna informed Rianne.

  “Good,” Rianne said, unable to think of anything else to say.

  The old witch gave her the creeps with her vacant-looking eyes and odd smile. She suddenly wished Silal hadn’t gone with Dorin to speak to the villagers about seeing anyone new in the area. Their worry about the shooter was growing by the hour until Rianne found it easier to simply stay inside the castle, either in the library, her room, or the study unless Dorin or Nikolas was with her. Since Nikolas was training his men this morning, she was stuck inside with four guards posted outside the study door. She wondered how Morna had convinced the men to let her pass. They were only supposed to allow Silal, Visess, Dorin, Nikolas, or Carme through.

  “Hmm. These are quite detailed notes,” Morna commented, shuffling through the pile of papers beside Rianne.

  “Yes, well, the king requested them,” Rianne said, taking the pile from her.

  “Of course he did, dear. The powers hidden within that journal have been lost to this world for thousands of years. When Merlin disappeared to the human realm, he took all his knowledge of magic with him. We have been floundering since,” Morna told her.

  Rianne chose not to say anything in response to that, having yet to come across any sort of message that might indicate the power she was speaking of. Morna’s eyes went wide, and she leaned over the desk, her face inches from Rianne’s.

  “Silal must not learn the secrets of this journal, Rianne. It is not what the Fates have planned. You must not tell him what you discover,” Morna warned, sounding half-crazed.

  “I can’t promise that,” Rianne whispered, slightly afraid of the old woman.

  “The Order of Warlocks would not look fondly upon the information being shared with the shifter community. If you want to keep a war from occurring, you must not tell Silal of what you learn,” Morna persisted.

  “Why would they care? You said they couldn’t have the journal,” Rianne said, remembering what Silal had told her about his conversation with the witch.

  “You are the Keeper, Rianne. It is your duty to keep the journal safe. You must keep the knowledge safe,” Morna insisted, so
unding more and more crazed.

  Rianne could think of nothing more to say to the witch. Morna’s eyes had gone dark, and the way she was looking at Rianne made the young woman nervous. She suddenly wanted Nikolas with her. He would know how to handle the old woman.

  The witch suddenly stood up straight, blinked once, and smiled down at Rianne.

  “My dear, you will make a fine queen,” Morna commented before turning around and leaving the study.

  As soon as she was gone, Rianne hurriedly cleaned off her table, storing the journal and her notes in the vault before practically running out of the room. One of the guards caught her when she stumbled through the door.

  “Easy, there,” he grunted, setting her on her feet.

  “I need Nikolas,” Rianne insisted frantically, struggling against the man’s hold.

  “He’s in training,” one of the others told her.

  “I need him,” Rianne repeated, still trying to get free.

  “Calm yourself, my lady. We’ll take you to him,” the one holding her promised.

  Rianne couldn’t force her body to relax. The strange visit from the witch had her too nervous, and her body trembled as the guards took her outside to where Nikolas was fighting in the lists. As soon as he spotted her straining against the Guard’s hold, he ordering training to stop and jogged over to her.

  Before he could so much as speak a word, Rianne had flung herself into his arms, clutching him desperately as the tremors finally began to fade.

  “What happened?” Nikolas demanded of the men surrounding them.

  “We don’t know. She came barreling out of the study like the hounds of Hades were after her,” one of them told him.

  His fingers ran through her hair, a gesture meant to soothe and calm her. She gave a violent shudder as the fear she’d felt while with Morna vanished under the knowledge that Nikolas would protect her.

  “Rianne,” Nikolas murmured, her name coming out as a question.

  “Morna…she came into the study…I was so scared,” Rianne explained brokenly.