by Kyra Jacobs
But now, with but the sound of Addie’s slow, steady breaths stirring the air in his secret lair, he lacked sufficient distraction to fend off concern. Dark times lay ahead, of that he was certain. Though as he stared at the woman in his arms, he realized it wasn’t war or retribution from his father or even resentment from his betrothed riddling him with worry. It was the thought of losing Addie. In a single day, the mysterious woodland nymph had stolen his heart.
No, not stolen—she’d captured it.
And for the first time in his life, Zayne had readily surrendered.
This was a skirmish of the heart, a battle with which he was unfamiliar and inexperienced, and the rules of engagement weren’t as he expected. Over her heart he held no power, over her life no control. The realization both pained and agitated him, and he fought with himself not to wake her now and demand she pledge herself to him, whatever the cost.
But Addie wouldn’t respond well to such an order.
“And just how exactly do you plan to silence me, sire?”
He grinned at the memory of the fury that had burned brightly in her eyes. No other had talked to him so boldly, nor resisted him so freely.
She shivered, the act a subtle reminder that Addie wasn’t as durable as the rest of Edana’s subjects. Considering her injury-prone tendencies and overall lack of experience in the ways of his world, Zayne knew her chances of survival might well be slim. The thought of being responsible for her death, of witnessing this beautiful creature take her last, dying breath, scared him to the core.
He couldn’t do that to her, wouldn’t do that to her.
And so in spite of how far his heart had fallen for this angelic lass, and how painful it would surely be to watch her go, Zayne swore to himself that he’d hold fast to his promise. He’d help her find the way back to her world once the sun had risen and cling to the memories of this night when she was gone.
If he could find a way to survive their separation.
Never had another human touched his heart the way she had, and never would another be able to do the same. Addie was the sun that warmed his cool heart, the air that breathed life into his very soul. Without her, would he fall back into his former dreary existence? It both scared and startled him to find himself so needy, but the feelings were undeniable.
She stirred beside him, and Zayne watched as her sleepy, half-lidded gaze slid to find his.
“Mmm.” She snuggled closer into his side. “I love how warm you are. Like my personal space heater.”
“I have no idea what that is, but I presume your words are a compliment?”
“Definitely.” She propped herself on both elbows and began to chew at her lip as she turned her face toward the tunnel leading to ground level.
“Worry not, for we are safe here.”
“Oh, I’m not worried.” Her gaze drifted back to his, its sweet countenance now utterly sultry. “I…want you. Again.”
Zayne swallowed hard. Had he not just come to accept his time with her was nearly done, that what had transpired between them was the most wonderful, albeit cruel, gift fate had ever granted him? “We have a long day ahead of us. You need your rest.”
“Please, Zayne?”
She stretched to skim her painted pink toes along the length of his lower leg whilst batting her lashes. The woman was wicked, plain and simple. Zayne drew in a ragged breath. “Addie…”
“Please?” Her voice rose in pitch. “Must I beg to win your favor, Your Highness?”
He met her pleading gaze and found himself drowning in their clear blue depths. No woman had ever wielded this kind of power over him. And though it would make the pain of their inevitable separation greater, Zayne found himself unable to refuse her.
“Never.” He bent to press his lips to hers.
Chapter Fourteen
A knock on the king’s chamber doors awoke Queen Helena that night. She’d lured her husband to bed to distract him from his rants, and had remained at his side afterward. Robert, who slept like the dead, didn’t stir at the sound.
“Sweetheart,” she whispered and gave him a small nudge, but still he slept on. With a sigh, Helena thrust an elbow into his rib cage. “Robert.”
With a snort, he rolled to face her, bleary-eyed and agitated. “What is it, woman?”
“The door,” she said, her voice calm. “Someone knocks.”
“Enter,” he bellowed.
After a short pause, the door swung open and candlelight spilled into the room. Standing in the doorway was the king’s squire, an oil lamp in one hand and a scroll in the other. Worry squeezed the queen’s heart.
“M-my humblest apologies for interrupting you at this hour, Your Majesty,” said the squire. “B-but urgent news has arrived from Forath.”
“Cease your stammering, boy. Bring me the scroll.”
Robert’s newest squire did as he was instructed, then bowed and backed up several paces. He wisely kept his eyes averted from the queen, though she doubted Robert would have noticed as the contents of this newest scroll had his rapt attention.
“What the hell is your son doing?” Robert’s brow furrowed as his gaze shifted from the end of the scroll back to its beginning. “He draws their men out on a promise to return the wench, then takes wing and attacks their wall instead? Has he lost his bloody mind?”
Helena’s eyes widened in horror. “What provocation caused him to transform?”
“Not a damn thing.” Robert closed a fist around the parchment. “He sent the girl with a few of his men toward Forath’s wall. But when Jarin’s men opened the gate to allow them passage, Zayne transformed and rained fire upon their wall. Of all the idiotic, mutinous—”
“There must have been a reason behind his actions.”
“Oh, I will find this reason,” Robert growled as he left the bed. “And when I do—”
The queen’s gaze flashed to the squire. “Leave us.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” he said with bowed head, though not before casting a quick glance at the king. When he received no further orders, the boy retreated to the hall and pulled the door closed behind him.
Helena slid from the bed and came to stand before a fuming Robert. “Surely there is more to this tale than we are being told. Attacking Forath’s wall in broad daylight? It sounds nothing like the complicated ambush your son delights in setting. You know how Zayne prefers to toy with his prey before striking.”
“True,” the king grumbled and stepped around his wife to begin pacing.
“At this time, all we have is Jarin’s word. How do we know this letter is not a clever trick designed to draw us into a battle built on false pretenses? We must hear Zayne’s side of the story before acting.”
“But, wife, Zayne is not here. Jarin demands to know the reason behind our attack and to be compensated for his losses. Am I to delay my response while we wait for our son to meander home? That could take days or even weeks. I have half a mind to send a scroll back this night and give Jarin permission to find and punish our son himself.”
Helena stepped before the king and placed a hand on his arm. “Please, Robert, I beg of you. Do not pass final judgment upon our son until after we have heard his reasoning.”
“And what of King Jarin? He demands an answer.”
“Then respond to the king that you knew nothing of the attack and will have an explanation to him within three days’ time.”
“Three days’ time?” he asked, incredulous. “How can I be certain the answers will be available by then? Such a promise could lead to war!”
“You will have your answers.” Helena’s voice was low as her narrowed gaze shifted to the darkness outside their bedroom windows. “As I plan to find our son and pull them from him myself.”
Chapter Fifteen
The next morning, Addie scrambled after Zayne, who moved like a man on a mission through yet another unfamiliar forest. Thankfully her tweaked ankle seemed to be back to normal today—all thanks to Emeline’s wrap and whatever
she’d put in the tea yesterday. Too bad the rest of her felt like it’d been hit by truck.
No, not a truck, she thought with a grin and a flutter in her stomach. A dragon. A hungry, insatiable dragon that had awakened her sexual desires.
Sore muscles were a small price to pay for the night she’d shared with the prince, and if given the chance to go back and do it all over again, Addie would have said yes in a heartbeat. She’d entered the dragon’s lair weak with fear and emerged satiated and ready to take on the world after their night of unbridled passion. But after one last kiss at the mouth of the cave in dawn’s early light, the two had gone back to acting like last night never happened. Like those three—or was it four? Five? Oh hell, she’d lost count of how many—orgasms she’d had never happened.
It’s probably best this way, she told herself for the umpteenth time as she hurried to keep up with Zayne. He’d promised to help her get back to Watford, and she was determined to make sure he kept his vow. There were a million and one reasons she needed to go back, and only one for her to stay. Even if she added in one night of incredibly hot, mind-blowing sex with the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes upon, the count was still far too uneven to be ignored.
Her body began to hum yet again at the thought of his touch, the way its warmth always scorched her skin and left her wanting more. Perhaps if she kept thinking of all the ways he’d pleased her last night, the gap between her two options would continue to grow smaller…
A sapling’s branch came out of nowhere and smacked her square in the face.
“Ouch!”
“Shh,” Zayne hissed, stopping to throw her an irritated glance.
“Oh, enough with the shushing,” she whispered back and rubbed a hand over her smarting cheek. “It’s not like we’re traveling all that quietly anyway.”
“Aye. We are not.”
Addie took two steps closer and glared at him. Thank goodness he’d had some extra clothes stashed in his secret hideout. There was no way she could have survived looking at his magnificent naked backside all morning long.
“Excuse me for never taking a class on how to sneak through the woods without being noticed,” she said. “Where I come from, we choose to travel on the roads. In plain sight.”
“But you are not where you came from,” he said, an air of superiority in his voice. “So if you want to make it back alive, I suggest you try a little harder to stay quiet.”
The passion which had shone so brightly in his eyes last night was now masked behind a cool, detached countenance. Maybe that was why Addie found it so easy to snipe at him today—because unlike her, he’d been able to turn off that passion like the flick of a switch. She’d been a fool to believe all that nonsense about how cruel fate was and yadda yadda yadda. Addie had just been another conquest after all, and she was kicking herself today for being so stupid.
If her damned feet and legs hadn’t hurt so badly, maybe she’d have been kicking him instead.
“I wouldn’t have to try if you’d just fly us to wherever it is we’re going. Two days in a row you can’t wait to bust those wings out. But today? Oh no.” Addie puffed her chest out and raised her hand in a mock salute. “Today we walk.”
Zayne’s eyes narrowed. “You know, my father has executed people for less.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing your daddy isn’t here, Your Highness.”
“Never were truer words spoken,” Zayne muttered under his breath. He scanned the woods, then focused on her once more. “Are you able to continue?”
“Do I have a choice?” She brushed her way past him, took two steps, and stopped with a sigh. Addie had no idea where they were going.
“I could carry you.”
“No.” The word came out too fast, and she saw the first flicker of a grin on Zayne’s handsome face all day. “No, I’ll…be fine. How much farther do we have to go?”
“Another mile, maybe two.” He reached a hand toward her, hesitated, then drew it back to his side. “I am sorry the journey has been difficult, Adelaide, but we cannot risk being seen. Two kingdoms will be on the lookout for us now, and each would pay handsomely for information concerning our whereabouts. Or our heads.”
A shiver ripped through her. “You really think your father wants us dead?”
“If my actions yesterday put us on the brink of war, then yes. Especially if reports of the attack fail to mention that Forath’s warriors fired first. If that is indeed the case, my father may lock me up and throw away the key.” Zayne frowned and started forward once again.
Addie scrambled after him. “But we have witnesses! I’ll tell him what happened. And Brom, and—”
“I beg your pardon, my lady, but my father will not take the word of a foreign lass over those coming from Forath’s castle. Angered enough, he’s likely to ignore my word and that of any man who has sworn their loyalty to me.”
“Wow.” Addie slowed to straddle a fallen tree in their path. “No offense, but your dad sounds like a total jerk.”
Zayne grinned and offered her a hand. “Actually, he’s an arrogant, power-hungry, pompous ass who puts ruling his kingdom above all else and expects me to do the same. And if you ever repeat that to anyone,” he added, leaning in close, “I’ll have to kill you myself.”
Addie wanted to laugh at the mock threat but couldn’t. She stood frozen, trapped by his gaze, warmth, and proximity. At the touch of his hand, images from the night before flooded her mind and hit her like a tsunami.
“I spoke in jest, Addie.” He released her hand.
“I knew that,” she said, able to look away now that their connection had been broken. Zayne started forward once again, and she quickly followed. “So, your father’s a tyrant. What’s your mother like?”
He glanced back, his face softened by a gentle smile. Addie knew the answer before it crossed Zayne’s lips. “My mother is the most kind, wise, and levelheaded woman I know.”
“Well, there you go.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“There’s a saying where I come from: behind every strong man is a stronger woman,” she said. “If Edana is as wonderful a country as you say it is, she’s probably had a lot to do with it.”
Zayne threw her a curious glance. “If you truly are the simple peasant girl you claim to be, Adelaide, then you are wise beyond your years.”
She shrugged. Wise wasn’t something she’d been called before. Loner, outcast, silent type—those were names she was more accustomed to hearing. Then he asked the question she’d worked so hard to avoid on the long ride yesterday.
“Tell me about your parents. Surely they helped shape your wisdom. What are they like?”
“My parents?”
Damn, she’d come so close to not having to speak about them. Addie should have known the question would eventually come up, especially since she’d been drilling him with questions right and left. But his answers were fascinating, far more so than her own, and his voice highly addictive. She’d wanted him to keep talking, not the other way around. “Oh. Well, I—”
Zayne stopped up ahead at the crest of a small hill and stretched an arm across her path. “Stop.”
Addie drew next to him and breathed a sigh of relief. Her home life was one of her least favorite topics and talking about it might cause a royal like Zayne to think less of her. The scene before them now easily supplanted the memories of her less than perfect childhood: a beautiful valley cloaked with sprawling fields of lush green grass and edged with forest for as far she could see. A simple stone cottage stood maybe two hundred yards away from them, an island amid the sea of green. Its thatched roof was thick and crisp, and its windows swung open to receive the cool morning air. Chickens roamed the yard, their soft clucking barely audible from this distance. Above them hung a long clothes line, heavy with laundry gently billowing in the slight breeze.
Zayne crouched low beside her. “Wait here.”
He started forward, but Addie caught his arm. “W-what a
re you doing?”
“The clothes. You need to cover up, and I need a disguise.”
Heat rose to her cheeks. “I wouldn’t have to cover up if you hadn’t shredded my dress, sire.”
A look of amusement flitted across his face. “Both our attires would draw attention should our paths intersect that of another. We need to blend in if we are to remain unnoticed, my lady.”
“So, what? You’re going to run down there and steal those poor people’s clothes?”
Zayne cocked a brow. “’Tis not stealing if I already own them.”
“You do not already own them!” she hissed.
“My father rules over these lands. As such, he is entitled to take from his kingdom as he sees fit.”
“And since you’re his son, that makes you entitled to do the same.” Her voice came out flat.
“Exactly.”
“It’s not fair.”
“Fair does not ensure our safety. Those clothes will.” He started forward again.
“I’ll scream.”
He stopped and spun to face her. “I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me. If you try to sneak up and take their clothes, I’ll scream before you get there.”
Zayne ran a hand through his long mane and turned back to her. “What is it you wish me to do, then? Knock on the door and ask to borrow a disguise?”
“Of course not. Look, I know it’s important for us to lay low, but you should repay them somehow. Trust me, it sucks when what little you have is stolen from you.”
The prince studied her for a long moment, his gaze growing narrower. Clearly, his patience was wearing thin. But instead of backing down, she lifted her chin and folded both arms across her chest. No way was she going to stand by and let him play the role of royal bully.
“Fine.” He pulled a coin from a satchel at his waist. “This would be enough to buy thrice as many clothes at the market. Will that be enough to ensure your silence?”
“Ah, a most noble gesture, Your Highness,” she said with a nod. “Though, if they aren’t my size—”