Spirals of light caressed them as they dove deeper into each other. Tongues met in thrills of sensation, hearts pounded, pulse raced. His mouth deserted hers and trailed downward to suckle turgid nipples. A gasp floated up from depths set free, and with all her might she begged to remain in this ecstasy of escape. Nerve endings rippled as if pinpricked by fire. She arched, said his name, but didn’t know that which passed her lips. Who was he? Did she really care?
She could brave all that had been done to her. She could fight battles of dark. She could court death for the sake of freedom. But could she stand to lose her dream? Sobs erupted in the mist of passion and she needed to show her love. Real or not, in this universe, in this world that had no past, no future, she belonged to him and he to her.
Bodies turned leaving her in control, something that had never happened before. Lips rained kisses upon a naked throat. Teeth tormented his nipples. A taut tongue laid patterns of fire over male flesh, down and down the erotic path to the tight, throbbing shaft. Spreading him wide, she licked his underside, again, yet again, around his sacks, within the crease.
His fist clenched. Groans exploded. "Violet … my love," he said her name on a splinter of sound. That, too, never happened. With widening eyes she realized that they were drawing closer. Suddenly she knew he was real. That there was a man out there who dreamed with her, only they would never meet. They only had this.
Her mouth closed around him, swallowing his hardness, filling her with his essence, his spirit, pulling away and gulping once more, again and again. Her tongue slipping over tense flesh, teeth nipping the bulging head as fingers sought his and knotted. He thrust into her mouth, taking back a measure of control and she claimed each thrust, encouraging more until he erupted within her, until she tasted his seed and the words she longed to hear since the moment he claimed her dreams broke through the mist. "I love you, my Violet. I love you."
* * * *
Ash pulled back on the steed’s reins and gasped as a waking vision abruptly halted. For the past several miles he had been lost in sensuous oblivion and had ridden automatically as his mind wandered in a familiar fog of sensation and delight.
"By the One," he whispered, comprehension coming to him in waves.
"What? Why are you stopping?" demanded Deniore.
"It’s her."
"Who?"
"Violet is the girl from my dreams."
"It can’t be."
The wet stickiness drenching his lions spoke of just how real the vision had been. "It is real. Some say the One speaks his will through dreams. Since we were children we’ve been connected. I am a few years older than she is, but in many ways we grew up together. There was a time I believed she was my destiny."
"I know I’ve helped you search for her."
"Even though you didn’t believe she was real."
"Aye, because we are more like brothers than friends. If it was important to you, it was important to me."
"Aye, you even supported me in going against my father’s will. She was the reason I joined the caste. I thought magic would be the key. I honed my skills, kept increasing my potency in the hope that one day I could climb into the dream and either remain there or drag her out into reality. As the years passed, the lure of magic became more important. I no longer sought the girl, only relished the endless dreams that gave me all the sensual stimulation and satisfaction that I needed. I had planned to devote my life to being the consummate mage. After all, what need had I for a wife? I had the dream."
"Until your father demanded an heir."
"I would have ignored him if not for your urgings."
"I adore your sister, Ash, but neither she nor her offspring are fit to rule. I’d like to see light overcome darkness within my own lifetime."
For a moment Ash looked lost. He spurred his horse on, but at trot. "The magic hardened my heart to the point that I didn’t recognize my Violet when she was in my arms."
"Whoa," Daniore said, and not just to his steed. "When was that?"
With his mount still moving he explained about finding Violet in the pub being tormented. "I felt something for her, but I ignored it. I’d like to blame the Dark Master for having manipulated events, but this didn’t have anything to do with outside influence. My greed for power led to blindness and I accept responsibility for that, but I will not lose my way again. Violet is spiritually mine by the One’s will and she will soon be mine in reality, too."
With that, he urged the mount into a gallop and didn’t even check to see if Daniore kept up.
* * * *
The stone inn with its turrets and ivy-laced facade had a fairy tale quality about it that extended to the nuptial chamber. Scarlet roses, springing from numerous crystal vases, scented the air. Hand woven carpets rose above polished hardwood floors. Sheer, white silk draped the four-poster bed and crisscrossed windows below arches of stained glass. Candlelight and a crystal chandelier cast golden hues over the entire chamber. Outside, spider-wolves brayed at the emerging moon, night creatures stirred, and the wind scurried through dying leaves.
Violet stood in the center of the chamber, trembling. The dream had shaken her. More than ever, her lover seemed real. What if he truly existed? What if he was her destiny? Then again, what if he was from the Dark and this was a lure to capture her, much as her mother had been captured?
Besides, soon she would be wed to a lord of light. She never even considered such a possibility. And, Lord Darth appeared to be such a good man. He was the epitome of kindness and patience, assuring her that she’d have a good life with him, that he’d further her craft, that he’d awaken her spirits and sensuality to levels she couldn’t even imagine. He begged her to give him that chance. How could she refuse? It seemed too noble to be genuine. Or was she just seeing spider-wolves behind every tree?
Pacing, she fiddled with one of the twenty knots binding the nuptial robe together from neck to ankles. Scarlet in color to symbolize that their marriage was a blood bond, it seemed more like a wash of color than an actual garment. Once Lord Darth shed the robe and possessed her body, she’d be his wife until death. If he wasn’t all he appeared, death might be a welcome alternative. She had already been prepared for it, but having escaped the blade made her anxious for another chance at life. She glanced at the window, wondering if there was a trestle outside it.
"We are too high off the ground to climb down from the window," Lord Darth said as if reading her thoughts.
She turned to him, hand held against her throat. For once a retort escaped her. "I wasn’t…."
"You were," he said with a smile. It was a nice smile, coaxing, but it was his eyes that trapped her, suckled at her will, eased her tension. She smiled back. Somehow it didn’t seem of her volition. The room seemed a bit darker, the shadows longer. Something wasn’t right, but she couldn’t discern the source of her unease.
"Come here," he ordered his voice a trifle stern.
She obeyed. That wasn’t like her either.
"I wanted to wait until we arrived at the castle, but without consummation, the marriage is void."
She nodded as if that were consent to proceed, but she didn’t want him to proceed, she wanted to crawl back into the dream.
A fist knotted in her hair, yanking her head back. He looked down at her, his breathing raspy. He seemed to absorb her essence. For a split instant, she swore his gaze turned ebony, but a blink assured her it was still clear and blue. Her body tensed as his fingertips slid along the side of one breast.
"Be at ease," he murmured, as shadows swirled beneath their feet.
And she obeyed.
"Let go of your barriers."
Her guard shattered.
"Respond to my touch."
She sucked in a tattered breath as heat crawled through her body.
"That’s it," he purred.
Her lips parted and she watched, mesmerized as his mouth claimed hers, a total expert ravishment intended to melt her from the inside out. His tongue f
ound hers, sucking, nipping, and probing. His body pressed into her, his hard maleness against her gentle flesh, his seeking hand massaging her breasts. She had expected to feel as she had in the dream. She didn’t and the strangeness of his touch triggered rebellion. She pushed against him, struggled, even as he kept muttering assurances and possibly even spells to break down her resistance.
"Yield," he urged.
"I can’t."
"Do it now!"
"No!"
Candles sputtered out. Dark hues deepened. A jumble of words spilled from him, indistinguishable sounds that twirled around her, intensifying the heat that he had originally stirred. It was as if she were on the outside of herself, watching her arms go around him, watching her body surrender, hearing a moan spill from divided lips. Waves of pleasure swept through her, encouraged her to spread herself open to him, submit totally, beg for everything.
The emotion overwhelmed her. The plea became alive, tangible, poised on her lips, ready to escape. Deep within, though, it still didn’t seem right to give herself to this man she barely knew even if it were legal. Yet … yet … A silent prayer rose through the confusion, begging the One to decide what she couldn’t hope to discern.
Darth intensified his invasion and Violet slipped into an erotic abyss she couldn’t fight.
* * * *
At Daniore’s insistence, they watered the stallions at a creek and draped a feedbag off the horses’ muscular necks.
Ash stared at his mount as if that could make it eat faster. "Don’t you think they’ve had enough?"
"If you expect them to tear turf, you must allow them time for fuel. Don’t worry, my friend, we’ll get there in time."
"It is already nightfall. For all I know, he could have taken her in the carriage. Some do that to seal the marriage before any can interfere."
Daniore looked at his feet, and then up at Ash. "What do you know of the dark lord?"
"You mean besides being a brutal soul thief who tortures and kills for pleasure?"
"That description could be applied to many of the dark lords."
"Aye, but Lord Darth has presented more souls to his master than a legion of his caste combined."
"Do you know why his appetite is more ravenous than most?"
A decisive chill rode the wind as it whistled through pines. Moonlight, spilling through branches and dried leaves, provided the only illumination. "Nay, and cease with the questions and be done with your thought."
"He was once a lord of light, and fell in love with a rare beauty who was sold to another lord at the nuptials. Not to be deprived, he contacted the Dark Master and bargained his soul in exchange for the woman’s love. The couple fought the spell, but in their arrogance they failed to seek the One’s help. Only He could have saved them. In the end, Darth, using the power of shadows, abducted the woman. She died loving and hating Darth simultaneously. Yet, rumor has it that he never recovered from the loss despite having killed her through endless torment."
"How do you know all this?"
"Had an ale with a shadow lord the other night by the name of Slith, young, chatty, and proud of the fact that he got Darth to attend the nuptials."
Although Ash already knew the answer, he couldn’t stop himself from asking, "How did he do that?"
"Showed him the invitation. Violet is a replica of her mother."
Face tightening, Ash tore the feedbag off his steed, mounted, and without a word to Daniore, spurred the stallion forward.
* * * *
Fight him!
The words cut through the haze of abandonment. They weren’t her words. They came from a distant voice that spoke in her head.
He’s not what he seems.
She gasped. The voice was familiar.
You are mine, not his. Fight!
Now that she knew the story of her mother, confusion gushed through her. Was the voice that of a dark lord, seeking to lure her from Darth? Or was it the voice of sanity, urging not to surrender too quickly?
If she surrendered to the sensations, she would never know the answers. Besides, she finally realized this wasn’t her will, but Darth’s.
"It isn’t me," she managed between heated kisses. "You are forcing responses. They aren’t mine."
"Don’t fight it, lass."
"It’s not natural."
Darth growled softly and pushed her away. Violet didn’t notice how the room brightened considerably. Stumbling backward, she fished for the edge of the bed trying to land on it rather than the floor. Finding the soft mattress securely underneath her, she sighed and felt chills chase away searing desire.
"Damn you, girl, this is the most natural thing in the world. You are mine and I will have you!"
"With a spell? That is no better than rape."
He froze. Indiscernible emotions fled across his handsome expression. He swallowed several times before responding. "It was only to take away your fear so the joining would be more pleasurable."
"But wouldn’t it be better to coax a real reaction from me? Wouldn’t that be sweeter, knowing you did it without trickery?"
Again she couldn’t read his expression, but his response settled upon her like a warm wash.
"Aye, it would be something to savor. I do not wish to rush you, Violet Haze. I guess I am just anxious to have the nuptials finalized. Now that I found you I don’t want to lose you. I saw how that dark lord lusted after you at the auction. Such as he stole your mother from your father soon after you were born."
Her gaze widened. "How did you know?"
He offered a soft, compassionate smile. "Many tales have been fashioned from the reality. It is those tales that have some mages consummating the nuptials right outside the Seraglio in any dark corner they can find."
"They said she loved the conjurer."
"It is rumored, but he would not have gotten to her if her love for your father had been stronger."
Every muscle within Violet tensed. "She loved him more than life."
"Aye, but the conjurer loved her more than his soul. Your mother put her dedication to the One before her love. If both she and your father bargained their souls, they would have remained together."
"In darkness?
"Aye."
"Better to be the least among all in light, than live in the shadows."
He took slow, measured steps to her. Pulled her back to her feet, kissed her softly, eliciting a small shiver. "Enough of this depressive chatter. I will let none take you from me. I will always protect you from darkness, and I will savor every moment of your surrender, every nuance that brings you closer to me, every…."
He stepped away and something flashed in his eyes she didn’t like, but it was gone so quickly, she knew she had imagined it.
"I will woo you lass, and will not consummate our marriage until you submit of your own will."
Her voice lowered to a very soft hush. "Thank you."
"Hungry?" he asked.
A true smile appeared and barriers toppled from her gaze. "Aye, ravenous."
* * * *
After a meal of roasted duck, wild greens, stone grilled bread and sweetened berries washed down by honey-water for Violet and ale for Darth, Violet curled into the luxurious nuptial bed alone. She could grow used to Lord Darth’s gentleness and patience. It was something she hadn’t expected, but she knew it existed. Her father had been that way. The voices in her head had to be from the conjurer. The one she saw at the Seraglio hall fighting off the guards. He wanted her the way the dark lord had wanted her mother. Even now, he was after her. She had to cling to Lord Darth. She had to allow him to consummate the marriage. Even more, she had to learn how to love him.
Only, it could wait until the morrow. For the first time since she was a wee one, Violet had a comfortable mattress beneath her dainty body, a full stomach, and no worries about being wakened in the night by rough hands and beatings.
Violet was only partially right. Just before light spun through stained glass, a strong hand cov
ered her mouth, yanked her from the bed and carried her toward the window.
Chapter Five
"Has the One scrambled your brains? Untie her!" Lord Ash spat, his hands still streaming luminosity beams to vanquish shadows. Without darkness or shadows, Darth’s powers would wane and without them, he wouldn’t be able to detect either a mage or Violet’s abductor.
Daniore leaned back in his typical, haughty stance, staring at the bound and gagged Violet. "And have her run back to Darth?"
"Why would she do that? I’m rescuing her."
With a shrug, Daniore released Violet’s gag.
"Let me go, you son of a spider-wolf, you excuse for a lord, you … you…."
Daniore stuffed the gag back into Violet’s mouth. "Heard enough?"
Dropping one hand, he stared at the girl struggling against her bindings. "I don’t understand."
Huffing a breath, Daniore yanked the girl off the ground and threw her over his saddle. "She thinks Darth’s a mage, and you’re the conjurer. I discovered that as we were sliding down the rope. Ever try to hold onto a screaming, thrashing feline? It’s not easy. By the One, she would have allowed me to drop her rather than comply. If you didn’t create a shield for us, Darth would have had me for spider-wolf feed."
Shaking his head, Ash tossed a sleep spell over Violet. Although her body stilled, he could still see the struggle within. The girl had an unquenchable spirit. No wonder Darth had been so determined to acquire her. Still holding up his hand, he mounted Daniore’s steed.
Before Daniore could object, Ash said, "I want to keep her close."
Again, Daniore shrugged. "As you wish. Where to?"
"The caves. I can brighten the confined space and shield us from Darth’s shadow seekers."
"Shouldn’t we go home and beg the King’s protection? A regiment of warriors and mages would stand a better chance against Darth than you alone."
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