by Marie Harte
Having successfully pushed both Darius and Marcus to their respective brides, he’d thought the most difficult portion of his job done. Who knew Aerolus and Cadmus would prove to be the more difficult of the Royal Four?
Having to remain in Tanselm to help drive the remaining Netharat back into the darkness from whence they’d come, Arim had been too busy protecting the Storm Lords’ latest additions, namely Samantha and Tessa, to keep an open eye on Aerolus and Cadmus.
But with ‘Sin Garu apparently sucked from earth into Light knew where, he’d thought he had time to settle the Prince of Fire and the River Prince into their new kingdoms before venturing back to Seattle. He was beginning to wish he’d never heard of this dreaded city.
Arim glared at Cadmus, not amused at the slow grin that curled his nephew’s mouth.
“I’m sorry, Uncle. Have I said something to irritate you?” he asked innocently.
’Innocent‘ my ass.
With a burning need to destroy something foremost on his mind, Arim took a deep breath and forced his destructive tendencies away, focusing on Cadmus. At his stare, his nephew’s cocky grin wavered, and finally seeing the crack in Cadmus’ defences, Arim plunged deep.
He was soon drowning in dark, seething energy. Black waves of cold fire sucked at his power, threatening to break his hold on Cadmus’ mind. It was an incredibly potent protective spell, one too advanced for a young Earth Lord to have developed by himself or with his fledgeling sorcerer brother.
As Arim struggled to make sense of the images stuttering in Cadmus’ thoughts, he continued to be plagued by bright blue eyes and a sultry smile. Flashes of heat, of seductive arousal, and strong untainted power lanced through him until he felt as if the very earth shook beneath him.
Stunned, Arim relinquished his hold on Cadmus and sat dazedly in a nearby chair.
“Ah, Arim?”
What the hell had Cadmus delved into here? Light and Shadow, but he’d sent the remaining Storm Lords to this plane to keep them safe, not to serve them into the hands of their enemy.
“Who is she, Cadmus?”
He saw a subtle tension envelop his nephew, but to his credit, the crafty Earth Lord smiled, his mouth wide with mirth.
“She? Don’t you mean, who are they?” Cadmus chuckled and leaned close. Ticking off his fingers, he named several women. “First, there’s Sherry, pretty, but not too bright. Then there’s Maggie, intelligent, but standoffish out of bed. Jean likes a lot of men, so she’s out unless I need to unwind. Beth can’t get enough of me, so I’m keeping my eye on her. And then there’s—”
“Enough.” Arim glared, wishing he had Aerolus here, that the two might break Cadmus’ resistance with affectionate concern—something he wasn’t at all comfortable projecting—rather than sorcery. As much as he’d like to, he couldn’t use magic to break his nephew.
To shatter Cadmus’ mental walls, he’d be forced to exert real force, potentially harming and even killing him. Unfortunately, the brown-eyed member of the Royal Four had a well of incredible mental power, not to mention stubbornness in spades. That strength made Arim pause and had him easing back. By the Light, Cadmus seemed a lot more like him than any of his brothers, including Aerolus.
Cadmus, the resident charmer and rogue, possessed hidden depths that might just be his undoing. Behind his laughter lurked an ache, a sweltering vulnerability that was surprisingly lessened by the temporary aid of Djinn power.
“You know, Uncle,” Cadmus said with a smirk. “I’d just love to stay and chat with you about that stubborn brother of mine, but I can’t. I simply have to find my affai, or I’ll just die.” He put his hand over his heart dramatically, and Arim couldn’t help smacking him in the back of the head.
“Ouch! What the hell was that for?”
“Your mother should have done that more when you were younger.” Arim couldn’t help the jolt of amusement that warmed him at thoughts of his sister. “The Light knows your father doted on you too much.”
Cadmus smiled, his expression a mixture of fond remembrance and grief. “Yeah, he did, didn’t he? Loved to laugh at all my jokes. Said I’d be king of the castle one day.” At his words, his eyes widened, and he turned positively white. “Oh, shit! Please tell me he didn’t mean overking of the castle.”
Arim studied him, still unable to foretell which of his nephews would one day assume lordship over all of Tanselm. Though the terror on Cadmus’ face seemed real, Arim couldn’t be sure. He shook his head. “You’re good, Cadmus, really very good. But all this inane chatter won’t detract me from the Djinn energy seething inside you. Or from looking for your overeager sorcerer of a brother.”
Cadmus clamped his mouth shut and shrugged, the apology not reaching his eyes. “Sorry, Uncle. I really wish I could help.” He looked to the front door, then back to his room. “I’ve got six hours before I’m due at Outpour, shuffling drinks while I pretend to be Darius,” he added tightly. He smiled, though his eyes remained dark. “Have I thanked you yet for sending us here? Well, thanks, Unc, from the bottom of my heart.”
He opened his mouth to say more, eyed Arim’s glittering gaze, and shook his head.
“Fuck it. I’m not letting you turn me into a rock because I’ve got a temper. I’ll see you later. I need my sleep before I hit the fucking bride circuit again. And yes, ‘fuck’ is my official word of the day.” He stomped off to his room, pausing before he went in to glare back at Arim.
“And just so you know, I’ve been working to strengthen my mind and my clairvoyance. Don’t come to Outpour unless you want to see her again. And you know exactly who I’m talking about, so don’t bother asking me anything more. You know I don’t know.”
Arim stared in shock as Cadmus closed his bedroom door behind him. He was dimly aware Cadmus had diverted him from Aerolus, as no doubt the sly prince had intended. Not much threw Arim, but mention of her had.
Much as he needed to find his Wind Mage, he couldn’t help lingering on his last glimpse of Lexa, and on what part she could possibly play in Tanselm’s future, or his, if he indeed had one any longer.
* * * *
Alandra woke from her sleep feeling more refreshed than she had in months. As she stretched, she pushed against a solid chest, one warm and pulsing with energy that tempted her on every level.
“Damn,” she muttered, completely embarrassed she’d fallen asleep on him. Pray Shadows she hadn’t drooled. She discreetly glanced up at Aerolus and sighed with relief that he still slumbered. At least she could gather her bearings, and her dignity, before facing him again.
Slowly easing herself up, she sucked in a breath as he grasped her hips and draped her legs so that she straddled him. He murmured something low, then relaxed back into sleep, his hands cupping her thighs. Blowing out a soft breath of frustration, she debated whether to jump off him or stay still so as not to wake him. She needed to appear in control of the situation, to wrest from him his illusion of power over her.
Glancing down at her bared thighs straddling his warrior-hard body, she felt a renewed surge of lust for the silver-eyed mage. For a woman who prized herself on knowing her limits, she couldn’t for the life of her turn off her desire whenever he neared. Her body never cooled around him. It moved from simmer to boil in a flash.
Grimacing down at her vulnerability, she realised how very hard it was going to be to remain aloof from the man she should have considered beneath her. Staring down at him, she couldn’t help the smart-ass in her that added, literally.
Aerolus sighed and rolled into her hips, making her bite her lip to keep from groaning at the sensations he aroused. How could a man in sleep be so incredibly enthralling? Vibrant shades of gold and silver entwined in his aura, a clear sign of latent power that drew her like nothing else could.
Her eyes narrowed in study. Nothing about Aerolus Storm was weak. After a year spent observing him, the only possibility of vulnerability he seemed to possess was the deep love he had for his family. Though the Aellei consider
ed any show of open emotion a risk, Alandra couldn’t help admiring Aerolus for his feelings. On a deeper level she couldn’t ignore, she felt a tug of envy, wishing she had as much care for her blood kin as he did his.
Unfortunately, if she knew the Aellei royals, they were probably signing a blood oath to rejoin the Dark Lords while she sat here with a Storm Lord, intimately close.
Thoughts of the Dark Lords made her frown, and she unconsciously began tapping her fingers against Aerolus’ chest as she once again pondered ‘Sin Garu’s connection to the hint of unrest in the royal court.
Her exile hadn’t exactly been a waste of time. Though only a few weeks had passed in Aelle, here in this plane she’d had an entire year to gather information—a quirky time differential that worked to her advantage. While dodging the occasional Aellei search party and staying one step ahead of the Storm Lords, she’d heard things. Whispers of astonishing organisation in the wraith community. Rumours of the Aellei queen’s strange, insatiable sexual appetites, of her odd reluctance to share her Dark Lord lover with anyone else, a state completely contrary to Queen Lidra’s aloof desires.
The search parties thought it strange indeed that he’d never given his name. Considering how well ‘Sin Garu liked to brag of his conquests to anyone who would listen, Alandra thought that quality in the queen’s lover most curious.
An answer to all her questions hovered just out of reach, and had she not been so distracted with Aerolus she felt sure she would have figured out ‘Sin Garu’s plan by now. Obviously, he wanted Tanselm. But why that particular land when there were others with as much, if not more magic, and how did he think to gain lordship over the Storm Lords and their omnipresent sorcerer, Arim?
A hand caught her tapping fingers, and she blinked in surprise into Aerolus’ intense gaze. Staring into his awareness, into the central focus of his power, was like looking into the vortex of a storm—one that could kill or pass over calmly in the blink of an eye.
“Purie?” he murmured and brought her palm to his mouth. He studied her through half-lidded eyes, his tongue licking hungrily at his lips as he waited for her answer. Reconciling this Aerolus with the academic mage who’d done without sex for a year had her blinking in confusion, and unwanted erotic responsiveness.
“My name is Alandra,” she answered breathlessly, irritated at how easily he made her forget her resolve to stand firm against his attraction. “Look, Aerolus,” she began, only to stop when something nagged at the back of her mind—an unpleasant tingle that made her shiver.
“You’re bossy for such a little thing,” he said with humour, his voice a husky rumble that distracted her long enough to allow his tug-of-war with her hand. A quick jerk had her off-balance and fully in his arms, her breasts kissing his chest, her needy sex plastered over his rock-hard arousal.
“There’s something going on here,” she tried again, needing to listen to her instincts instead of her libido.
“There sure is.” He dragged her to him for a kiss that sent gales of desire coursing through her blood. The wild taste of him had reason retreating behind a storm of lust so intense it shook her with its power.
A small part of her thrilled that he was just as caught as she was. Tendrils of energy wrapped around them both, his latent elemental energy feeding her shadowy nature, increasing her ardour until she was ready to strip him naked and ride him until neither of them could walk again. She squirmed on the ridge growing between her thighs, and he groaned and deepened the kiss, one hand wrapped in her hair as he angled her mouth over his, the other on her lower back, edging her harder over his erection.
When his tongue stroked hers, she moaned in pleasure, surprised at how addictive she found his taste. The sheer magic of the man, amazing for a Light Bringer, called out to her Dark energy, to the Shadow that dwelled within her.
“So sweet, so hot,” he murmured against her lips, leaning back to stare at her. “Your eyes are like stars, your lips like wine.”
She flushed, pleased to hear such flattery. But when he stopped simply to stare at her, she prodded, “And my skin? Like pure-white marble? Or how about snow-spun down, maybe?”
If he knew how easy she was to seduce with words, she’d never be in control of him, so she hurriedly shut up and pressed her mouth to his again, sighing under his caresses.
“Like thick, sweet cream,” he murmured, running a finger down her cheek to her neck, resting above her fluttering pulse.
Her insides melted at the sultry gaze he passed over her breasts and lower.
“Cream?”
“Hmm.” His hand travelled lower, slipping between her legs to cup her mound. He rubbed his palm over her dampened curls, teasing her by brushing his knuckle against her full clit. “Sweet, milky cream that just keeps coming and coming,” he whispered as he stared into her eyes while his hand grew wet with her arousal.
She gasped and couldn’t help riding his hand.
“That’s it, love.” He nuzzled her neck and licked her pulse, making her shudder at the effort it took not to come from his erotic caresses. “I want you to come again. And this time I’m going to come inside you.”
He finally stopped rubbing her to release the snap on his jeans.
Unfortunately, before he could tug at the zipper, Alandra’s inner senses cried danger, causing her to shiver so violently Aerolus couldn’t mistake it for passion.
“Alandra?” He stopped moving and stared at her. “Love, talk to me.”
She tried to speak, but couldn’t seem to catch her breath. The room seemed so cold, so devoid of life.
“Something’s coming.” Her teeth began chattering, and she widened her eyes at the taint of evil energy filling her small haven. Dark blue light surrounded the malevolence, making her toes curl in dismay. “Ice wraiths. A lot of them.”
As if saying the words had conjured them, a dozen ice wraiths suddenly appeared. Tall and thin, the creatures lived in the Dark, hungering for the Light in others to bring them some reprieve from the eternal cold hammering their bones. Alandra stared in morbid curiosity. She’d seen normal wraiths and was familiar with the Shadren, but none of them came close to possessing this kind of Darkness.
Brittle skin spotted with black and blue bruises marred the sickly yellow of the ice wraiths’ rotting flesh. Lumpy, hairless skulls sat atop obscenely thin necks, their gangly bodies incredibly strong despite their frail appearance. A dozen pair of white eyes searched unblinkingly for their quarry, and the ice wraiths laughed and shrieked in pleasure upon seeing Alandra and Aerolus together in the chair.
At the typical behaviour befitting a wraith, Alandra relaxed.
“They could do with a toothbrush,” she muttered, disappointed that this was the best ‘Sin Garu could do. At least a Nocumat showed some creativity. Then several of the wraiths hissed, each exposing three rows of black teeth and a forked tongue that sparked blue when it met the air. Upon closer inspection, she noted bloodied entrails hanging from several mouths, and her first impression that the wraiths were more fool than threat faded under a growing alarm.
“’Sin Garu has much to answer for,” Aerolus said stoically as he studied the invading danger. Alandra silently agreed, stunned as much by Aerolus’ calm heartbeat as she was by ‘Sin Garu’s monstrous army. Did her Storm Lord not understand what the ice wraiths’ blue sparks meant?
“Um, Aerolus, I know you’ve dealt with wraiths before, but these are a different breed than the ones you’re used to.”
“I know, purie.” He tightened his hold around her waist and looked into her eyes. “We’re going to have to fight our way out of here. I’d teleport us to freedom, but I have no doubt they’ll follow our trail the minute we leave.”
The ice wraiths circled, keeping a small measure of distance between themselves and their prey, toying with them to increase the pleasure in killing. If Alandra hadn’t been their intended victim, she might have found a small measure of respect for the wraiths’ attempt at fun in battle. As it was, she cou
ld only hope her organs wouldn’t soon be dangling from one of their prickly mouths.
In agreement with Aerolus’ prediction that they needed to stay and fight, she nevertheless instinctively reached for the small charm of Mir she wore around her throat. She froze in shock when she found it missing. Without it she couldn’t travel between planes or space.
Her eyes flew to Aerolus, noting his silence and the slight tightening of his lips as he glanced at her neck and away.
“Where is it?” she growled through clenched teeth, watching the wraiths behind the chair with distaste. “You bring this mess to my door, and you steal from me? Your own protector?” She smacked his chest and his eyes narrowed, a huge indicator he wasn’t pleased with her accusation. “I’ve been here for a year without incident. You visit and within hours I’ve got pests.” She glared over his shoulder. “I don’t suppose it occurred to you to conceal your mask.”
At his confusion, she sighed. “You masked your trail here, but did you cover that mask with a mislead? A good hunter looks for what isn’t there as much as what is.”
He kept his eyes on the circling wraiths.
“You covered your magic when you flew here, yes, but you covered it with a huge ball of nothing, clearly announcing your trail.”
He remained silent, but she could see a faint flush on his cheeks. Despite the dire situation they faced, she couldn’t help the tremendous pleasure she felt in instructing an arrogant Storm Lord, her Storm Lord in particular. The Light Bringers always thought they knew everything. Ha. When it came to raw magic, Aerolus was a novice.
“I apologise,” he said stiffly, his eyes darkening as he looked over her shoulder. “Follow my lead and hold on.”
That had to be the briefest apology she’d ever received. “What—”
A dense pressure invaded her body and mind, a subtle popping in her ears breaking the void where thought had once been.
As she blinked to regain her bearings, she watched Aerolus teleport back to the opposite side of the room, drawing most of the Netharat in his direction. Amazed, she could only stare, stupefied, as he turned from a calm, together sorcerer into a savage warrior bent on the decimation of their enemy.