by Inez Kelley
Pushing her cup of cider aside, Jana gripped her necklace. Darach had been resting for nearly a whole day but just feeling his essence warm the stone soothed her.
“I suppose now we know why the Crest of Eldwyn carries deer antlers beneath a rose shield.” Batu studied the claret in his cup. “And why Segur men feel the drive to sire a child and know of their firstborn. It’s a reminder of an hourglass as it empties. It’s been counting down for generations and we never knew it.”
“How could such a tale be lost?” Jana wondered. “Why didn’t the story pass from parent to child?”
Paron sat his cup aside and stood. He pulled a thick volume from a high bookshelf then settled at his desk. He flipped the pages quickly. “Give me a moment. I read something in this old history text about the crown that stuck with me. Ah, here it is.”
He held the book at arm’s length.
“Damned old eyes. Let’s see here. Seventy summers before the great fire at Thistlemount, under the reign of Jarto Segur, fever swept Eldwyn. Thousands died. The royal family was struck hard and all but two children perished. The lad who was crowned king was barely six summers old. And what father tells a child of six about such things as the heartmate bonds?”
Batu shook his head. “A child king. I’ve read about them but it’s hard to imagine. How did this country survive?”
“The Council of Elders,” Paron murmured, turning pages. “We serve the king as a collective advisor, Your Highness, share the burden of judgment. We learned that unlimited power destroys those who hold it. That’s another way Eldwyn has matured.”
“So most of the legend died and we’ve been muddling through trying to figure it out ever since.” Batu scrubbed at his eyes with his good hand. “Well, now what? Find the ruby and destroy it?”
“Yes.” Paron closed his book. “Break that and the heartmate bonds are no more. I believe, Your Highness, you’re the bridge spanning the rule of magic and not. Your reign will be the first in a hundred generations that grants your offspring freedom from the bondage that was the only way to save the crown long ago. Your children will have a choice.”
“If I live to see any child born,” Batu muttered. “Doesn’t answer the question of who’s trying to kill me. How does that tie into the heartmate bonds?”
Silence filled the room. Although she could not put it into words, Jana knew in her bones that the threat had some ties with the royal family’s past. It was what called to her as a time dancer and a reminiscent seer. Darach said the two were tied and she believed him, had faith he wouldn’t lead her astray.
“Anyway—” Batu pulled himself straighter in his chair, “—there’s only one ruby of that size I’ve ever seen, the one in the scepter.”
The royal scepter was a long staff of pure gold, finely etched with a scrolling pattern of roses. The top held a blood-red gem. It was one of the country’s most symbolic pieces, only used on specific occasions such as a royal wedding, presentation of a new heir, a royal death procession or a new coronation.
Her eyes closed. All were marks of a ruling family changing and growing. Putting the ruby in that ceremonial piece had made certain it was never lost as the story had been.
“We have to destroy one of Eldwyn’s historical symbols?” The weight of such a task pressed against her like a sweating dog.
“Change, Lady Jana,” Paron whispered. “It’s needed to grow.”
“Where is this scepter?” Darach’s deep baritone whirled Jana around.
There was no hiding that Darach was not of this world. He wore the green silk of his home realm, long hair free about his shoulders. The gold band on his upper arm gleamed, highlighting the tension in his muscles. The deep bullion of his eyes shimmered like sunset in a darkening sky. Jana’s pulse thundered through her veins at the fierce determination on his face.
“The vault.” Batu set his cup aside. He drank in Darach’s stance, then nodded as if answering some private question. “Go back to Thistlemount. Papa will open the vault once you tell him why.”
“We’re supposed to stay with you,” Jana reminded him.
“Consider it a royal order. Go home!”
Command powered from him and Jana sat back in awe. Her friend, the boy who’d taught her to make rude noises with her armpit, was no more. In his place was a seasoned man of grit. He might never have ridden into war, but he carried himself like a champion. The power was not in his sword but in the steel of his spine.
“Break this curse, Jana. I want my family safe and together again. I want my wife by my side. I want my country hearty and prosperous. Give that to me. Go and free us all.”
Pride warmed her from the inside. No wounds, no exile, no invisible threat would undermine his spirit. The presence Batu held at this moment shouted his lineage in all its dignity. Though he dressed in common clothing and wore no mark, he was every inch the Crowned Prince. One day, if she succeeded, Jana would be proud to call him king.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
* * *
“How much money do you have left?” Batu asked.
Darach felt the purse tucked at his waist. “Enough, I believe. The journey will not be long. We’ll make haste.”
They waited while Jana changed her clothes, the sun radiating through the high glass windows of the foyer. Below, a groom led a sturdy roan through the knee-high snow.
“You’ll have to ride with Jana, at least until you’re out of sight of Myrtlewood. I don’t think they’re quite ready to see her in the company of a grizzly bear. She shouldn’t be seen leaving alone, that just invites trouble for a woman.”
Darach nodded.
“You know, we were raised pretty much together and I just...I got confused.” The prince chuckled. “We shared both a nursery and a nurse. I thought Jana was my sister. When Warric was born, my parents moved me into my own chambers so I tried to sell him to a traveling minstrel. That was the only time Papa ever spanked me. Jana crawled into my room, into my bed, and cried with me that night.” His voice cracked. “Keep her safe, Darach. She’s my dearest friend.”
“I didn’t search through the ages to let her come to harm.”
The atheling’s face creased with somberness. “You haven’t told her yet, have you? That you’re leaving?”
“No.” An uneasy heaviness lodged in his chest and Darach blew a breath away, trying to unseat it. “If I could remain, I would, but I gave that right away to keep her alive.”
“Then love her well with what time you have. Her family’ll be here for her after you’re gone.” He extended his hand. “I wish things could’ve ended differently. I’m tired of losing friends.”
Darach took the handshake, grateful there were no words needed.
Jana descended the stairs in her travel garb. Darach soaked in her beauty. Love her well. He’d love her forever, as well as he could, never forgetting her face. It would be the image he’d caress while color and music held him. He would take more than love back to his home, he would take the bitter knowledge of loss.
Once free of Myrtlewood’s borders, Darach gave his bear free rein, knowing his scent would keep hungry four-footed predators away, and the sight of him would discourage two-footed ones from acting. Unfortunately, it did nothing to frighten the weather, and a storm rolled in. Dark, heavy clouds rained heavy snow and bitter winds churned it into a squall.
Jana slowed her horse and tugged the scarf from her face. “I can’t see where I’m going.”
Rising to his back feet, Darach used his sharp teeth to pluck the reins from her hand. He honed in on their destination and never slowed. Snow coated his back, falling in clumps, but he pressed on, leading her to shelter.
The sky succumbed to night then gave way to the dawn before he spotted the forlorn and empty cabin. Jana slid from the saddle. Snow reached above her knees. It would be far too easy to become lost in the blinding white. Darach would not let that happen. He misted to man then took her arm, guiding her into the cabin.
Her teeth
chattered. “We can’t stay long. We have to get back to Thistlemount.”
“When the storm stops, nayeli. Until then, rest.”
He hauled in armloads of wood as she quickly built a fire. Soon the cabin warmed enough that her lips lost the blue tinge. Exhaustion made her eyes heavy as she wordlessly climbed onto a pallet, still shivering. Her cloak hung before the fire to dry so he laid his bear-hide over her woolen blanket for extra warmth. She held out her arms and he sank into her embrace until her breathing leveled into slumber.
The clear-brook scent of her hair filled his nose. He tried to press that memory into his core and found he didn’t have to. Everything about her, her touch, her scent, her taste, her voice, it was all engraved on his heart. The first seconds in this world had been learning to adapt to this solid form. Now he regretted losing it because it would steal the feel of her skin on his. Memories were all that would remain with him.
* * *
Jana ate the cold food in her pack from Myrtlewood’s kitchen to silence her growling belly. It was impossible to tell the time, the sun hiding behind thick clouds still pouring snow. Drifts nearly waist high had settled against the door. She plaited and unplaited her hair just to fill the time.
“Is there a way we can dance in time?”
“Only through your bloodline or the monarchy’s. Do you have a path chosen?”
“No, I just thought...once you become human, I won’t be able to do any more.”
Darach gripped the mantel and stared into the fire. “You will. The talent lies with you. I’ve been a guide only. You no longer need me. Once you naturally enter a deep sleep, the voices will still call you. You’ll then be able to wake at your will without my dormant breath. Never use herbs to bring sleep. Those make it too dangerous. You might not be able to awaken when needed.”
It should have filled her with joy, being able to dance by only her own power but it didn’t. She didn’t want to be alone in that black ocean without him. At least she’d be able to wake every morning with him by her side. “Do you like autumn?”
He looked at her in confusion. “I don’t know of it except through you but I suppose it’s a fine season. Why?”
“I was thinking that would be a good time for our wedding. It won’t be as large or formal as Feena’s, of course, but still, I am the High Captain’s daughter. I thought I’d use gold and burgundy for my gown.” A shadow sliced across his face, and fear curdled her stomach. “What’s wrong?”
“Jana.” His chest rose with a deep inhale. “I must return to my realm.”
Pain squeezed her heart. “But, you said...”
“I have no choice.”
“I don’t understand. I thought...I thought you loved me.”
“You were dying!” His hair rippled with the force of his shout. He rubbed his face harshly as if wiping away something foul. “I couldn’t do anything. To keep you alive in time while I searched, I gave away my life. I cannot claim it as a human.”
His shoulders slumped as he turned from the mantel. Without looking at her, he folded his long frame into a chair. “Nayeli, forgive me. I’d rather leave you alone and alive than leave you trapped in time to die.”
Battling a salty lump in her throat, Jana blinked. He’d given away his right to choose, given his right to a life for her. She didn’t want to be anywhere without him. Her skin tingled as if she could feel the hours slipping away. It choked like a too-tight collar. He’d said time bent to her whim but that was only in her dreams. In reality, it hurtled by much too quickly.
Jana thrust the sadness away. For these few stolen hours, he was hers. Her footsteps made little sound as she crossed to him. Firelight played over his loose hair, trickling a golden streak into the rich brown fall. It slid through her fingers like watered silk.
“Darach, do you trust me?”
“With all that I am,” he whispered.
Jana drew her dagger. The sharpened steel sliced through a long lock of his hair. He didn’t move until she raised the blade to herself. “Jana, no!”
She cut a matching piece from her own head. The strands plaited quickly in her practiced fingers. Him and her, wrapped so closely together they blended into one length. Now she had something to keep, a physical memory of their love.
He used her knife, cutting into his vest for strips of green silk to bind the braid edges. “Remember me, nayeli.”
“I’ll never forget.” Her fingers traced his brow, his nose, his mouth. “Look at me.”
At her low entreaty, he raised his eyes to hers. She wanted to get lost in those eyes, to drown in their depths and never let go. Her touch glided over his cheek, down his jaw, delving lower to the valley below his Adam’s apple. She found a vein beneath his jaw that beat like a drum.
Bittersweetness ached in her chest. His heart beat but he wasn’t human, never would be human. But for this night, perhaps the last night they had together, he would belong to her. The bags of medicinal herbs in her pack would be easy to grab but she didn’t want them. The chances were slim she would conceive his child but she wanted that tiny hope, that glimmer that maybe she could keep some small part of him forever.
The emerald silk of his vest slid down his shoulders with barely a push, puddling on the chair seat. Smooth warm flesh tightened under her caress. Jana sank to her knees, pulling at his boots, but never dropped her gaze. She tossed the wet leather aside. Darach jumped when she ran her fingers along the side of his foot, and her smile spread. He was ticklish. What a preciously personal memory to have.
Tickles were forgotten as her hands crept up, stroking over his hard calves. The cords of his thighs firmed under her palms. Unbuckling his belt widened his eyes but he never looked away. Her fingers slipped into the band of his leggings and the muscles in his stomach quivered. His hand shot to the side, unfastening a hook she’d not known existed. She tugged and he shifted, raising his hips to assist her.
Her hand curled around his rising shaft, gently, teasingly, barely letting him feel her touch. Bending low, refusing to look away, she placed a soft kiss on his left knee. Darach swallowed. She feathered kisses up his leg, just the slightest touch of lips. She used her nails to skim across his skin, leaving gooseflesh in her wake.
Jana lowered her mouth to his staff.
Darach sucked in a rapid breath, his head snapping back. Power and control washed through her. She’d never done this, had only heard tales of such naughtiness, but found it enthralling. She took her time, learning the secret taste of him. She dragged her tongue along the broad head, circling beneath the flared ridge. He fisted her loose hair.
A contented moan worked from her throat as he slid heavy and hard against her tongue. She nipped and sucked, swirled and licked until his hips thrust up. She tried to take all of him but her stomach lurched. Unwilling to leave him, she used her hand to stroke what her mouth couldn’t reach. The robust flavor of lust tinged with a salty maleness enflamed her. A wet ache began between her legs.
She looked up, working her mouth along his shaft. His eyes were huge, dark spots of color darkened his cheeks, and a fine patina coated his brow. Dressed only in the gold band around his upper arm, he exuded pure masculine beauty. She sucked harder, deeper.
“Jana, please.”
“Please what?” Her whisper bathed along his glistening shaft.
“More.”
“More this?” A slow tongue up the underside of his shaft made him inhale with a hissed breath. “Or this?” A quick suck cut the hiss short.
“Just...more.”
She gave him more. More tongue. More licks. More sucks. More strokes. She gave more until his hips rocked and his grip on her hair pulled painfully. Sweat beaded along his temples when she sat back, her chest heaving and lips tingling. The awe shimmering in his eyes set fire to her blood. He made her feel beautiful.
“Stand up,” he whispered.
She rose to her feet and let him tug her tunic over her head. Her bustline was directly in front of him. He cupped he
r breasts, lifting both as if they were a gift. He took one nipple between his lips. He circled it, drew it deep, lavishing attention to the tip. The wet ache intensified to sweet torment.
One hand pushed her back just enough so he could kneel before her and press his mouth to her navel. Her breeches peeled away, tossed somewhere over his shoulder. Fire warmed the back of her shaking legs, and Darach warmed the front. His hand gliding up her inner thigh increased the heat to a blaze. It roared as his fingers delved between her slick folds.
Her hand clutched at his shoulder for balance as his tongue dipped into her cleft. He tongued her until her knees couldn’t hold her any longer. As if unable to part from her skin, he dragged his kiss up her ribs, up her neck, before finding her lips. His kiss turned feral and a primitive need gripped her.
He turned her, nuzzling behind her ear. His thickened shaft was hard along the swell of her bottom and her desire surged. This was what she wanted, what he was wordlessly showing her he wanted. Pure, basic, natural mating. She turned her cheek into his kiss then dropped to her hands, grinding against him.
Darach needed no coaxing. Instinct served as guide. His hand left her hip long enough to position himself, then he sank inside her with a slow, steady thrust. Jana lowered her forehead to her hands, submitting to his claim on the most primal level. He’d never been so deeply planted inside her and she moaned his name in marvel. He didn’t move for a long moment.
“I love you.”
Jana rocked back to him. “Yes, love me. Love me forever.”
“Eternity.” His lips brushed her back and then he moved.
Lust spiraled through her with his increased rhythm. He cupped one breast, and his hair surrounded them, mingling with hers in a curtain of light and dark. He rolled her taut nipple until a whimper parted her lips. Wet kisses carried murmured words in a foreign tongue along her nape.
She pushed back, wanting more of him, wanting him deeper. He gripped her hips and gave it to her. He faltered, jerking hard and pressing harder. The pads on his fingers dug into her skin and her eyes snapped wide. The rush of his release pushed her over the edge and she screamed. Her nails scratched into the floor and her back arched. She pulsed around him as he pulsed inside her.