"You don't need words, Shouter. You only need the love of the Goddess."
"If you have the power, help her,” he growled.
"We are not here to change the natural order of things. She chose to give her life for yours. Who are we to change that?"
"So you won't save her?” A snarl formed on his lips, but he fought it when Caelan's eyes blinked open once more. “Tell me the words to heal you, love. I have your power inside me."
A chill shivered over her, but her gaze was unclouded. “You say,” she whispered, then stopped to swallow. The breath she took rattled through her lungs, as if it was hard for her to breathe.
He waited, but nothing more came from her lips. Clasping her hand to stop the tremble, he stared into the sky. “Goddess, if you hear me, I offer the trade of my power to heal her."
The witches gasped as one. To lose his power would mean to lose a piece of himself. But if he couldn't have Caelan in his life, then his magic was nothing.
"Do you know what you are asking?” the gray-eyed one asked.
"Goddess, I offer you my power for the ability to heal Caelan from this poison."
"Say it again, and it may come true,” the witch murmured, her eyes narrowed into considering slits.
"Goddess, I offer my power for the ability to heal Caelan, my one true love."
"He invoked love magic,” someone whispered, but Garron was too busy staring skyward.
He knew the Goddess wasn't really in the sky. She was all around him, but he needed to visualize the Goddess's loving gaze in his mind.
Like a cool wind, something whipped through him, and he felt a piece of his soul rip away. Pain ran fast on its heels, as if someone had peeled a layer of his skin from his body. He dropped onto Caelan's chest, balling around her like the lifeline she was.
Then a light poured through him, filling him up, replacing his magic with something else, something more powerful and right.
When he straightened, he knew he didn't have to speak words to heal her. Placing his mouth upon hers, he breathed in healing life, forcing the poison from her very pores.
On and on he jammed the magic into her body with his breath, filling her lungs, filling her every cell.
When her eyes blinked open, he knew the Goddess had prevailed.
Panic broke out behind him as a group of guards raced into the celebration. “King Useph! All the prisoners in The Abyss have escaped!"
Garron smoothed back the hair from Caelan's face, unable to stop the smile spreading on his lips. Rolf had wanted him to break out of the dungeons to cover his own escape. Sneed would face his own death for his betrayal of the King. Caelan would live. Amusement and joy swirled in his chest. He kissed Caelan slowly to celebrate.
"I love you,” he whispered. “More than life itself."
"And I love you, Garron. More than life itself."
Chapter Twelve
Caelan had awoken in the Temple of the Goddess two days ago, her strength rapidly returning after her near brush with death. She'd seen Garron but only with one of the Council Mothers in the room.
The life in the Temple was based on celibacy to attain a closer relationship to the Goddess, and a man in the Temple had been enough of an anomaly. The lack of contact, though, had her second guessing his words of love to her. After all, she'd saved his life. That would inspire anyone to say they loved her. Doubt sat in her stomach like a tight knot.
This morning, she'd been summoned to the Council Chamber, a long marble hall full of cold spots that brought a chill when Caelan walked through them, as if ghosts were chained to the floor at intervals. The hair on her arms always rose when she entered, made worse by the fact that the Council Mothers never called people to them for anything but the direst of events.
When she entered the chamber, the spring sun appeared cold on the blue marble floor, the windows leaving arched splashes of light leading to the end of the room where the Council Mothers waited behind a long, bare black marble table. There were seven of them, one for each face of the Goddess, their features blending together with their shaved heads and gray hoods resting away from their faces.
Garron stood before them, half turned to watch her.
As she passed into the sunlight, then out again, Caelan tried to anticipate why she'd been summoned. Her healing powers remained intact, but the Goddess had returned some of her old abilities. She just wasn't sure what they were yet.
She could feel the heady glow of power, the sensation similar to what she'd had when she was thirteen, but nowhere near as strong, she knew. That was fine with her. She wanted peace and simple healing, not a life in silent contemplation and worship.
Passing from the last arch of sunlight, she stopped before the Mothers, bowing to them with respect. The only difference between now and the other times she'd stood before them was that, while she respected their guidance, she knew exactly what she planned to do with the rest of her life. And who she'd like to do it with.
"Your powers,” said the Mother of Healing. “They are still intact?"
"I believe so, yes.” Caelan paused, then admitted, “Although I feel they have changed in some way. I do not know exactly how yet."
Another Mother smacked her hand on the table, the sound so surprising, Caelan jumped. “Of course they've changed. What do you expect to happen when you've traded magic with a man? Have you no sense, Caelan?"
"I'm sure I do have some sense, Council Mother.” Caelan found she wasn't upset, instead fighting a smile. Her relationship with Garron brought her only happiness inside.
"We can't do anything about their exchange now. It's done,” the Mother of Healing said, her tone dry. “But perhaps you should ask yourself what the impacts were to Garron before you become too smug."
Caelan's gaze found his. “Garron?"
"Tell her now,” one of the Mother's ordered.
He smiled, a slow tip of one side of his lips, but his eyes were warm deep blue. “I gave up my ability to Battle Shout in order to heal you."
"Oh no!” Dread climbed up her spine. To lose his powers—she knew all too well how that felt. The experience was like having a piece of one's soul torn away. Tears of grief for him gathered, and she blinked to hold them back.
In two strides, he crossed to her, cupping her chin in his palm.
"This is not the place for that,” a Mother barked, but Caelan had no idea who said it. Garron filled her world, so tall and big and wonderful, touching her for the first time in two long days.
"Don't cry, love.” He kissed her forehead, the action gentle, although his lips stayed on her skin a few moments too long, as if he couldn't bring himself to stop touching her. “I've lost my ability to Shout but gained one of your old talents, it seems."
Gained her magic? Legends claimed that it could happen, but she hadn't believed it was really possible.
"He's gained the ability to see lies, Caelan,” the Mother of Healing informed her.
"It's a talent I can use as a Protector, love. I'm not upset at the change. It was worth the sacrifice to save you."
Caelan stared at him, her stomach filling with hope that they would stay together.
"Do you still plan to leave your position as castle healer?” the Mother of Healing asked.
Garron stepped away so Caelan could see her, but his hand tracked down her arm and curled around her fingers. Inside, her body jumped, instantly wanting him, even with so small a caress.
"Yes,” she said, her voice shaky but not from her choice.
Garron's gaze slid to hers, and he winked.
He knew, she realized. Knew that she wanted him.
"What will you do?"
"I'm going to Trayborne,” she said, ignoring the man rubbing his thumb over her hand in a slow tease. “They need a healer there."
"Yes, they do. Are you prepared to give up the glories of the castle for a hard life in a border town?"
"Yes.” She was. She knew in her very soul that Trayborne was where she belonged, with or witho
ut Garron.
"Interesting that you both plan to go there,” the Mother of Healing said, her eyes sparkling. Caelan had the odd thought that she was amused, but Council Mothers didn't have that emotion.
"You're going there, too?” Caelan met Garron's gaze and once again became lost in the deep blue of his eyes. This was the first time she'd been so close to them in the light.
"We'll go together,” he whispered, and the words ran down her spine like a caress. “They need a Protector, as well as a healer, love."
The Mother of Healing cleared her throat. “You will be assigned to heal in Trayborne then, Caelan. Now both of you will leave us. This behavior is inappropriate for this sacred hall."
They didn't have to be told twice. Her mind was in such a whirl, Caelan didn't notice the rooms as they passed through them, didn't notice anything but the joy in her heart.
She was going to Trayborne with Garron at her side!
He pulled her along at almost a run, steadying her as she stumbled. “We have to get out of here,” he said, his voice so urgent and full of desire, her stomach turned over. “Now."
* * * *
Garron had to have her. Now, now, now. His patience was at an end. But first, he had to get out of the Temple. The witches’ citadel gave him the creeps. It felt like he was surrounded by dead people begging to be freed. He had no idea why others felt the blue marble fortress was a peaceful, restful place.
They were running now, although he was forcing himself to slow down to match her shorter stride. “This is silly,” he said to himself and swept her into his arms without pausing, eliciting a yip of surprise.
She didn't protest, though, curling her arms around his neck as he burst through a side door, not even caring where it led, just as long as it was out.
"We're not ever going back there,” he told her, sure of that one thing above all others.
"No,” she agreed.
He took her through the garden, needing to get away from the Temple lands. A small gate appeared in the wall and opened easily as he burst through it, releasing them as if by magic.
They ended up in a field of wheat, the ripening heads blowing in a soft breeze, enjoying the sun beating down on them.
He dropped to the ground, rolling so his body took the impact of their fall.
Her face, a beautiful mix of small features and pretty leaf green eyes, glowed as she stared at him. He smoothed back her hair with a shaking hand. “You're too beautiful for me,” he said, speaking the truth. “But it's too late for you to escape."
"I don't want to escape,” she whispered, her smile full of such obvious happiness, he had to kiss her.
The action relieved a giant pressure inside him, but rapidly built another. “Trayborne,” he whispered into her lips when he came up for air.
"Yes.” She was certain.
He kissed her again because he wanted to, and he could.
Then as one they struggled with their clothes, the drive to be naked against each other sharp and strong.
He rolled her onto his body and spread their clothes out as a makeshift bed. Then he placed her on them, following her down so he could have the maximum amount of her body touching his.
"I need this. I need you, Caelan. I love you.” There was no embarrassment in the statement, only truth. He'd said those words to her already, but they had to be said again, or they'd burn him up inside.
"I need this, too, my love,” she whispered.
He captured her lips, then ran his tongue down her neck in a slow sweep.
Her hands caressed his chest, his arms, his hips in an erotic massage that made him purr inside. “Just your hands on my skin brings me so much pleasure."
"I could touch you for hours.” And something in her voice made him know she planned to touch him for hours right then.
"Not now.” He captured her nipple in his mouth, suckling with just enough pressure to elicit a hiss and her hands in his hair. “Now I'm having you as fast as I can, while still bringing you pleasure."
She laughed, a throaty purr that he felt along the skin of her breast as he ran his tongue there.
"Two days those witches kept me from you, and I played along, because I'm willing to do anything to have you.” He cupped her sex, pushing with his palm to pin her clitoris. She arched in response. “But now I need you, Caelan. I need my cock inside you. I need to feel you holding me tight as we both find release."
"Oh,” she said, her body writhing in a sensual stretch that told him he wasn't the only one on the edge of madness.
Parting her sex, he found her wet and ready but couldn't stop himself from ducking down for quick taste. He swept his tongue across her clitoris, tasting her desire. Then he pulled the bud into his mouth. Once, then twice, loving the look of pure desire and need which transformed her face.
"Garron, please."
"Please what,” he whispered, wanting the words. He worked first one, then a second finger into her core, readying her to take him.
She opened eyes that had turned dark green with desire. “Please put yourself inside me."
"It will be my pleasure."
He gathered her hips into his hands, steadying her. Her fingers cradled his cock and guided him home. It was like heaven, like the most brilliant of fulfillments, made even more complete when she whispered, “I love you."
"I love you.” He kissed her as his cock pushed deep. “I will always be with you, for as long as you'll have me in your life.” His new found magic spun inside his body. The witches had warned him not to share power with her anymore, that it was too dangerous, but without a thought, he spilled his magic over her.
"Oh, Goddess, Garron it feels so good,” she said, tears escaping from her tightly closed eyes.
Then she gazed at him, and her magic ran along his skin. He captured her lips so it could pour inside him.
That was enough to tip them over the edge.
The orgasm streamed over them both, filled with magic and love.
"You are everything to me,” he gasped, knowing that it was true and that he would fight to his death to keep this one woman in his arms for all time.
About the Author
Leigh Wyndfield spends her free time reading anything she can get her hands on, watching movies, and skiing or hiking, depending on the season. Unable to find romances that take place on other worlds, she started writing her own in 2003. Her books have won awards and finaled in published author contests, including the PRISM, More Than Magic, the Holt Medallion and the Dream Realm Award. Her novel, IN ICE, was nominated by RT Magazine for Best Erotic Romance of 2004, won a PRISM Award and the Write Touch Readers Award! Romantic Times calls her work, “Engrossing, enthralling and entrancing."
Readers can visit her on the web at www.leighwyndfield.com.
Spicy, sensual love stories which leave a reader breathless, intense plots, alpha males, strong heroines and sizzling dialogue—find it all at Whispers!
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