by Kyra Jacobs
“Oh, I’ll make them fit,” he growled, then ducked and began to snake his way through the tall grass toward the clothesline.
With a snort, Addie settled onto the ground and watched Zayne move with the stealth of a lion stalking his prize. As he drew near the clearing that served as the cottage’s small yard, his progress slowed. Now, each step was calculated, cautious. Was this what it was like to watch him hunt? To stalk his prey in dragon form?
A shiver ripped through her at the thought, and her longing to get back to Indiana resurfaced. She didn’t belong in Edana, or Forath, or any other dragon-infested lands. It was dangerous here, dragons were dangerous. The calculated look in his eyes only moments ago reminded her of that. And yet the farther he moved away from her, the more space that came between them, the harder it was for her to breathe.
Oh no. No, it couldn’t be. Had she really gone and fallen for the one man she couldn’t have? Addie tipped her head and scowled at the clouds. If this was some sort of cruel, cosmic joke, she sure as hell wasn’t laughing.
* * * * *
Impending war. His disapproving father. A fiancée with a heart made of ice. Korey’s death. Worry after worry swirled through Zayne’s head as he returned from his clothing quest. How he’d found the strength to shut them out last night was a mystery.
Ah, but that wasn’t true. Addie had been his strength, his distraction from reality. Whether from her close proximity or from her never ending stream of questions, it seemed that wherever she was, the rest of the world and the worries that accompanied it faded to nothing.
But alas the sun had risen, and he’d held fast to his promise to help her get home. After yesterday’s ambush, he knew better than to try to cross through Forath’s gate again. What he didn’t know was why they’d been attacked. Only one in the kingdom was sure to have the answer—Berinon, Edana’s high wizard—and it was his wisdom Zayne sought today.
The journey to Berinon’s woodland cottage on foot would be slow and tedious, but without a proper steed, there was no other way. Addie, he knew, would do her best to keep up. After spending but a day and a half with the lass, he knew she wouldn’t shy from the challenge. What he hadn’t anticipated was how difficult it would be not to touch her along the way.
When they set off at dawn, he kept his distance as he led her through the forest surrounding his lair. More than once he caught himself intentionally slowing so she could draw closer. But each time as her wildflower-and-sunshine scent washed over his senses, Zayne forced himself to move ahead. So long as she was within a few paces of him, the arrangement was tolerable. Uncomfortable but tolerable. But when he left her to acquire their disguises, his anxiety grew with every passing moment until he returned to her side.
How was it that someone so small in stature could affect him so? Strengthening his confidence with but a few soft words? Chasing worry from his mind with a single smile? Magic or otherwise, the power Addie held over him was inexplicable yet undeniable. So how in bloody hell would he be able to keep his promise and return her home? The thought of her leaving, of him never again seeing her crystalline eyes, pained him like a sword to his heart.
“It’s not fair, you know,” she grumbled as he handed her the confiscated peasant’s dress. “You get to wear pants, while I’ll have to navigate through the woods in this.”
Zayne started forward, wanting to get them deeper in the woods before anyone saw them—they’d already stayed too long in one place for his liking. He moved slowly, though, drawing strength from Addie’s proximity. “Had you expected me to offer to wear the dress?”
“No.” A coy look came upon her beautiful face. “But if you’re offering…”
He chuckled. “I am not.”
They continued on for several moments, following a narrow stream he knew would soon lead them to the wizard’s cottage, before stopping to change into their disguises. When he was certain they were alone, he stripped off his silken shirt, tossed it aside, and reached for the one he’d taken from the valley home. Its fabric was stiff and scratchy against his skin, and though it had been recently washed, the scent of body odor still mingled against the floral smell of the peasant’s lye soap.
Zayne held his breath, tugged the tunic over his head, then chanced a look at Addie. As he hoped to find, her gaze was fixed upon him. Her mouth snapped shut at the realization she’d been caught staring. With a scowl, she turned away and wove her arms into the stranger’s dress.
“There were two pairs of pants hanging on the line, you know. My wearing this will just slow us down.”
Her mention of clothes slowing them down brought back memories of last night and what he’d done to yesterday’s gown. His resolve to keep a safe distance between them began to waver as he considered bringing the same fate to this new dress. Though, if he didn’t learn some restraint, he’d owe money to half the countryside by nightfall.
He stepped forward to catch the dress before it came down over her head. “Ah, but there was but one shirt. And unless you planned on sharing mine…”
“Um, no. But I could have worn it, and you could have traveled without one. You know, like you were overheated or something.” She lowered her arms, the dress still bunched at her wrists. “Don’t workers ever take their shirts off in your kingdom?”
“Indeed, they often do. But I feared that option might have delayed our passage.”
“And why’s that?” she asked.
Zayne removed his scratchy shirt and tossed it aside. “Because the sight would surely have been a distraction.”
“That’s a bit vain, Your Highness, even for you.”
“Perhaps.” He stepped forward to close the distance between them and took the dress from her hands. “Shall we test my theory?”
Addie’s eyes widened. “W-what are you doing?”
“Merely proving a point, my lady.”
She backed away, but for each step she took, he pursued her farther. Soon her back was against a tree, and she had no place left to go. Zayne brought his hands to either side of her shoulders, boxing her in.
The pitch of her voice rose. “And that point would be what, exactly?”
“That if we had followed your plan, never would you have been able to resist me.” In one swift motion, he lifted both her wrists overhead and pinned them against the tree.
“It’s hardly fair to say I’d be unable to resist you,” she said, her eyes dark, “when you have me restrained.”
“Have my actions displeased you, my lady?” He grazed her earlobe with his lips. “I heard no complaints when I did this last night.”
“That was then. This is now.” Her breaths came faster as she struggled against his grip. “I thought we had a deal.”
“We do.” He nuzzled the hollow beneath her ear and drank in her scent. “One I intend to keep.”
Oh, how easy it was to forget all else when he was so close to her, to leave logic behind and let the beast in him take control. Addie began a retort, but Zayne silenced her with a kiss intended to leave little doubt in her mind as to his intentions. Instead of turning her face away, she opened her mouth to him. Their tongues began an intimate dance, its tempo rising as the kiss deepened, intensified.
He freed one hand to explore her glorious body. His fingers traced their way along her cheek, her neck, over the top edge of her tight black top. He broke the kiss to allow his mouth to follow the same path, and nipped through the fabric stretched taut over her peaks, rising and falling with each of her ragged breaths. She issued a small mew, and the prince slipped a hand under the hem of her shirt. He needed to see her again, to taste her.
“Zayne,” she whispered, an urgency in her voice.
Oh, how he despised this fabric. It seemed intent on clinging to every one of her blessed curves. “Patience, my lady.”
“Zayne, stop.”
At that he froze. Surprise and disappointment warred in him until he heard what had alarmed her as well—the sound of approaching hoofbeats. He stepped back
to draw in a breath and clear his senses of her heady scent. They were too close to the lone road running through this portion of the forest and would surely be seen if they didn’t move and do so quickly. With a curse, he snatched their disguises from the ground and grabbed her by the hand.
“Come.” He led her toward a dense cluster of overgrown bramble.
She complied in silence, and when he knelt on the ground behind the vegetation, she did the same. They were safe from view, but as the sounds grew closer, Addie began to shake like a leaf. He drew her close and wrapped an arm around her trembling body.
“You trust me, do you not?” he breathed.
She buried her head against his chest and nodded.
“Then fear not, my Adelaide, for never would I allow any harm to come to you.”
Zayne pressed a kiss to the top of her head then shifted his attention to the approaching riders. There were several of them, all traveling at a fast pace. A relief, as these men were in too much of a hurry to be searching for anyone.
As the caravan came into view, he spied five horses total. Two leading, one in the center, and two bringing up the rear—a security pattern, intended to protect the middle rider. But who of import would be this far from the castle so early in the day?
“How much farther, Your Majesty?” called one of the front riders.
Your Majesty? Zayne’s throat went dry. He wasn’t ready to face his father, not yet.
“Not much farther. Watch for the raven. He will show us the way.”
To his vast surprise, it was not his father who answered, but his mother. And as she’d instructed her escort to watch for Berinon’s raven—the key to choosing the correct path amid the woodland labyrinth surrounding his cottage—the royal band was headed to the same place as he and Addie.
But why?
Chapter Sixteen
The journey was long and the ride uncomfortable, but Queen Helena didn’t care. Her son’s life depended on her setting right the events of the past few days. It would kill her to see him punished for actions she was responsible for.
Actions she’d taken to save his soul, not condemn it.
When at last their horses slowed to a stop before Berinon’s modest cottage, she dismounted without waiting for help from her escorts. Only Edana’s great wizard could help her now, and she was determined to see that he did so no matter the cost. Helena had lost Robert long ago as his heart had hardened with power and his mind became forever distracted by the threat of war. She refused to lose her son as well.
Helena brushed past her men and made her way to the cottage’s door, which swung open on its own as she raised a hand to knock. She sucked in a sharp breath of surprise then ordered her heart to slow. Of course he knew she was here. The question that remained was whether or not he could set right the chain of events she’d asked him to create.
“Wait here,” she told her guards, then stepped across the cottage’s threshold. Their sputters of protest were silenced the moment she was fully inside, as the door magically swung and bolted shut behind her. Helena tipped her chin high and waited for her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. She’d been here more times than she could count as a child and used to know the layout of the wizard’s lair like the back of her hand. But that had been when Berinon was an apprentice many moons ago. She had been back but once since those early, innocent visits, and he’d made changes of his own since then.
One visit in the past twenty years, and now they were on the cusp of war.
“I had expected you to come sooner,” came a voice from the shadows to her right. His tone was smooth, its undertones full of wisdom and patience. Helena’s heart ached at the sound as it always did. “Your Majesty.”
She tried to speak, but the words could find no passage. Helena cleared her throat and tried again. “I first sought your help because I trusted you.”
“I know.” He was closer now, though still blanketed by shadow.
“And now my son has a bounty on his head in not one but two countries.”
“A pity, that.”
Berinon stepped into a patch of dim light streaming through a gap in the closest window’s shutters. His pupils were wide, nearly blackening out the brilliant emerald green of his eyes, and his hands were clasped behind him. A long beard hung from his chin, and both it and the hair upon his head shared hints of silver woven through their auburn color. Though the temperatures outside would soon warm to a stifling level, he wore a long sleeved robe similar to what she’d seen him in last, its fabric embossed with odd symbols. His words hinted that there was much beyond his attire she no longer shared with her dearest childhood friend.
“What have you done?”
“Exactly as you asked, my lady.” He offered her a mock bow. “You asked me to bring him true love, and I have.”
“But at what cost?”
“Ah.” His eyes sparkled with mischief. “We discussed nothing of the consequences.”
“You tricked me?”
The sparkle disappeared, replaced by a cold, flat wall. “I did no such thing.”
The queen took a deep breath. Angering the wizard wouldn’t do her any good. “Forgive me, Berinon. The thought of losing my son has me entirely distraught.”
He studied her for a long moment but said nothing.
“Please,” she whispered and walked forward to stand directly before him. Helena raised a gentle hand and laid it upon his chest, an improper gesture for a queen, but she couldn’t help herself. A flash of emotions ripped through her of could have beens and might have beens, but she forced herself to swallow them away. That was then, this was now. “Please, tell me what I can do to save him from this mess I have created.”
He stared at her, his eyes unreadable as his chest rose and fell beneath her touch. “No actions can undo what has already begun.”
All her strength, all her hope, left her in that moment, and Helena’s knees went weak. Berinon caught her, his grasp awkward as he helped her to a chair beside the hearth. She could no longer see his face, as tears of grief welled up in her eyes. All her fault, she thought as she rested a fist on each of her temples. This was all her fault.
A sob ripped through her body.
“My queen,” Berinon said from close before her.
She shook her head and clamped her eyes tighter shut, though the tears flowed freely now.
“Helena, please. Look at me.”
The queen drew in a ragged breath and wiped her eyes with the fabric of one sleeve. When she opened them, she found Berinon kneeling before her.
“Your son will not die from this.”
Like this, disarmed with concern, he looked like the boy she once knew better than she’d known herself. Her heart ached at the sight. She exhaled a bitter laugh. “Words to soothe, nothing more.”
“Lena,” he said, calling her by the name only he had ever used. “You must trust me on this. Zayne will survive.”
“But at what cost? What sort of deplorable woman am I to sacrifice an entire kingdom of innocents to bring my one son happiness?”
“The most noble of kinds.” He took her hand in his. “Dark times lie ahead, but like each day, darkness is always followed by light. And there shall be light, my lady. Brighter than our lands have long since known.”
“You speak the truth?”
“I do.”
She blinked away the last of her tears and studied his emerald eyes, so close to her now. When they were children, she could sense when he was telling her the truth or a farce. Did she still possess the same ability? She prayed that was the case, as all she could see in his eyes now was honesty.
Helena lifted a hand to his bearded cheek. “Then I shall give you my trust once again.”
His eyes drifted closed at her touch, giving the land’s wisest, most powerful man—more powerful than their very king—a peaceful countenance. She savored the sight; it had been far too long since she’d last seen it.
“How I’ve missed you, Bere.”
> He drew back from her touch, a flash of anger in his reopened eyes. “Your doing, not mine.”
“My doing? You speak as though I had any say in the matter.”
Berinon turned from her to busy himself with crucibles on a nearby potions table. “There was always a choice. You could have run away.”
“And put us both in danger?” She rose from her chair and came to stand beside him, but he moved beyond her reach. “My parents—”
“Traded you for gold,” he said.
“Yes, which is why I came to you—to save my son from the same cruel fate.”
Berinon’s hands stilled.
“You think yourself vanished from my thoughts?” Her voice barely rose above a whisper. “That never am I haunted by the memory of your words, your touch?”
She studied his profile. Rigid, unmoving. The Berinon she’d grown up with and once loved hadn’t been so controlled, so distant. Perhaps it was better this way. The silence between them grew. If he were the same warm soul as he’d once been, it would simply pain her more to leave him again.
Helena took a deep breath, drew back her shoulders, and wiped at her cheeks once more to ensure they were fully dried before facing her waiting guards. “Thank you, most noble and trusted wizard, for your reassuring words.”
With that, she headed for the door. But instead of the latch magically lifting or the door involuntarily opening, a hand lit upon her shoulder.
“Wait,” Berinon said, his voice low. “There is something I wish to give you. To make the darkness a bit more…tolerable.”
Chapter Seventeen
Once the galloping caravan had passed, Zayne took Addie’s hand in his and hurried after them. He had to know what was going on and why on earth his mother would be headed to see Berinon. Was someone ill? His father? Her? Never had she been known to travel without the king so far from home.
Addie did her best to keep up and remained silent as she ran alongside him. He worried the physical exertion might become too great for her small body, but not a word of complaint crossed her lips. So he pressed on, ready to slow his pace at her first sign of distress. But as he slowed to a stop at the sight of Berinon’s raven perched high in a twisted old oak, he was surprised to find Addie’s breathing heavy but not overly so. The nimble sprite had better endurance than half his men, and he felt an appreciative grin tug at his lips.