The King & His Queen (Pict King Series Book 3)

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The King & His Queen (Pict King Series Book 3) Page 20

by Donna Fletcher


  Hemera lowered her arms and stared at him a moment, then shaking her head she walked over to him. “Your anger speaks.” She rested her hand on his chest. “Let your heart speak.”

  His arm snaked around her waist and he yanked her up against him, flesh meeting flesh and nothing ever felt so good to him. “You vex me, woman.”

  “I do not mean to vex you just as I did not mean to lose my heart to you, but I did. It is yours. It belongs to you now, please be careful with it.”

  Talon’s own heart thundered in his chest. Never had words had such impact on him and never had words meant so much to him. Though his own words failed him, he did not fail to respond. He brought his mouth down on hers and kissed her, not a sweet, tender kiss, but one that claimed the heart she had freely given him, tucking it away deep inside him and forever keeping it safe.

  His hands went to cup her bare backside and as he lifted her, she brought her legs up to wrap around him. He walked them to the sleeping pallet, never taking his lips off hers and dropped down with her on the thick stuffed pallet.

  His plans to take his time, go slow, savor every inch of her was lost to a distant memory. His only thought was to bury himself inside her, claiming her once again, leaving no doubt to himself or her, or anyone that she belonged to him.

  She tore her lips away from his and he grew annoyed until her whisper rushed from her lips.

  “I cannot wait. I have been too long without you.” Her hand reached down, working its way between them to take hold of his manhood. “Hurry, before your mighty kisses make me come.”

  A shiver ran through him as she urged him with a tug toward her entrance. He brushed her arm away before slipping his arm beneath her waist and moving her further up on the pallet so that he could enter her easily and slowly... and he did.

  His groan of pleasure echoed hers and at that moment he knew without any doubt that he had lost his heart to her. He was where he belonged, where he always wanted to be...with Hemera, forever united.

  “Please, Talon,” she begged with a soft intensity. “I need you.”

  He kept his thrusts tempered while Hemera moved more anxiously against him. She was near to coming and he wanted her to so that he could make her come again soon after. He knew exactly how to make certain that she did. He lowered his mouth to her one nipple and teased it with his tongue.

  Hemera thought she would die from the pleasure racing through her. Talon’s tongue worked magic wherever it touched her. It stirred a flame that always seemed to be burning deep down inside her for him, one that would never extinguish, would always need to be fed, one that would burn forever for him.

  “Talon,” she pleaded as that flame grew ever stronger.

  Talon brushed his lips over hers and ordered, “Come for me.”

  Hemera cried out as he thrust into her harder and she exploded with pleasure that rushed through her, claiming every bit of her body and her senses and as it began to recede, Talon moved inside her demanding more. Once again she felt her pleasure building and she smiled as she dropped her head back and groaned with the sheer joy of feeling her passion mount once again.

  Nothing was more satisfying than seeing that look of pleasure and bliss on Hemera’s face as he brought her once again to the edge of climax. It heightened his own pleasure, but then he needed only to look on Hemera and his body stirred with desire.

  Her sighing groan and his aching need had him realizing he would not last much longer. He would burst soon enough, though he would make sure Hemera did as well. All thoughts faded as his passion took hold and he set a rhythm that soon had Hemera gripping his arms and her passionate cries filling the room.

  She burst with pleasure once again and Talon joined her, tossing his head back and groaning as wave after wave of pure passion coursed through him.

  Hemera’s arms went around him as he dropped down on her and with labored breath whispered, “Welcome home, my King.”

  My King.

  The stark reminder had him rolling off her and taking her in his arms to rest against him, though more so to keep her there, where he wanted her, where she belonged.

  It also had him saying, “We are bound, you and I, and nothing can ever break that bond—nothing.”

  “I will always be yours.”

  That she said it without a bit of doubt pleased him, though it still disturbed him that she would never truly be his, truly belong to him unless she was his wife.

  Her yawn and the way she snuggled closer against him had him reaching for the blanket bunched at his side and he covered them both.

  “I am glad you are home. I missed you so much,” Hemera said, laying a hand on his chest while her head rested comfortably on his shoulder.

  “So you have told me often since my return,” he said, keeping his arm firm around her, wanting her as close as he could get her.

  “And you will hear it often so that whenever we are apart you will know how much I ache for your return.” She sighed and tapped his chest. “Now tell me, who do you think poisoned the prisoner’s water?”

  He grabbed her chin with two fingers and turned her face up to look at him. “Did I not order you to remain in this room?”

  “Did you truly expect that I would?”

  “I am King,” he said, wondering if he was reminding himself more than Hemera.

  “Aye, you are.”

  Her few soft words resonated loudly in his head. He was King and he could do as he pleased.

  Her yawn had him releasing her chin and as she settled comfortably against his shoulder once again, he knew what he would do.

  He would make Hemera his queen.

  Chapter 23

  The thought of making Hemera his queen simmered in Talon’s mind for several days and more so at night when she slept in his arms. He wanted her there always. He would accept no other woman in his sleeping pallet and the more he thought on it, the more he came to realize that he could have no other woman as his queen.

  It was difficult for him to grasp how a woman like Hemera had worked her way into his heart and try as he might to ignore it or admit it, she had. His heart was lost to her and surprisingly he was glad for it. Not that he would let anyone know. After all he was King and needed to show strength, not weakness. But had Hemera not told him that it took courage to care, to lose one’s heart?

  Talon heard footfalls approach the opened High Council Chambers’s door and cleared his thoughts, though Hemera refused to leave. She lingered there, poking at him with memories that tugged at his heart and tempted his manhood.

  Gelhard entered, closing the door behind him.

  Talon could see by the intent look in his eyes and firm set of his mouth that Gelhard had something to say to him. He had something to say since he had learned that Hemera was sharing Talon’s sleeping pallet, but he had held his tongue. It appeared he was not going to hold it any longer.

  “My king,” Gelhard said with a respectful bow of his head. “As your High Counselor, I feel I should speak with you regarding Hemera.”

  Talon kept his posture taut and his words sharp. “Have your say, Gelhard, but measure your words well.”

  “People are whispering and wondering why a mighty King takes a,” —Gelhard paused when he saw the King’s eyes flash an angry warning— “woman unlike others to his sleeping pallet.”

  “Let them whisper and wonder, it does not concern them.”

  “It does,” Gelhard objected strongly. “You are their King. You have led them with courage and wisdom. You have brought relative peace to this land and tribes have thrived because of it. They wish a long reign for you so prosperity and peace may continue. That is why they wish to see you wed and heirs born.”

  “They will have it. Begin plans for the wedding,” Talon ordered.

  A smile spanned the whole of Gelhard’s face, vanishing in an instant when next Talon spoke.

  “I will wed Hemera.”

  Gelhard stared at him a moment unable to speak and when he finally did, he di
d not measure his words wisely. “You cannot be serious. You cannot wed a slow-minded woman who pays no heed to your every word and who the people find foolish and ignore. It is bad enough you mate with such a woman, but make her queen?” Gelhard shook his head. “It cannot be allowed.”

  Talon rose slowly to his feet. “You dare to tell the King it cannot be allowed.”

  Gelhard realized his mistake and quickly lowered his head. “Forgive me, my King.” He raised his head. “Please, my King, think of what you do. Hemera’s mum gave birth to two daughters, not one son, so would Hemera even give you an heir?”

  He wished he could tell Gelhard that she already carried his child, but Hemera had yet to confirm that and until it was certain, he would say nothing.

  “You may be pleased with your choice, but the people will think differently.”

  “It is not their decision.”

  Gelhard continued to plead. “What if she does give you a son and your son is as slow-minded as her?”

  Talon glared at Gelhard. “You truly believe Hemera is slow-minded?”

  “Is it not obvious?” Gelhard asked stunned that the King should even question it. “What of her heritage?”

  “The chosen queen must be born of a Pict mother. Hemera’s mum was from the Alpin Tribe.”

  “How do you know that for sure?” Gelhard questioned. “She has spent many years with the Northmen. She knows more of their ways than she does Pict ways. Should you not at least find out more about Hemera before you make her your queen?”

  Talon was reminded of why he had made Gelhard his High Counselor. The man made him aware of issues that might arise over any decisions the King pondered. He also was reminded of how often Hemera avoided telling him of things that had happened while she was with the Northmen.

  One day, but not now. That had been her answer. No more. It was time for her to tell him.

  Gelhard’s brow wrinkled and he tapped his finger to his chin. “Minn was from the Alpin Tribe. I recall her not knowing anything about an attack on the Alpin Tribe by the Northmen. It is a shame she returned to the Imray Tribe or we could have spoken with her about it.”

  “Send for her and see what she has to say,” Talon ordered.

  Pleased by the King’s command, he gave a firm nod.

  “You will also spend some time with Hemera each day and come to know her.”

  Gelhard could not hide his surprise or annoyance. “What am I to do with her?”

  “I am sure you will take the time to get to know her and find reasons I should not wed her or perhaps she will surprise you and you will find reason to agree with me that she will make a good queen.”

  Gelhard nodded slowly as his eyes lit with opportunity.

  The man expected to find fault with Hemera. Talon thought otherwise, but it did not matter, since in the end Hemera would be his queen.

  Hemera was busy planting seeds she had begged off Ebit, not that she had to beg him. It seemed now that it was known she was the King’s woman, everyone treated her differently. They acknowledged her with a nod or a smile, but they also whispered about her, not that they had not done so before, they just did it more frequently now.

  It did not bother her. People were wont to talk. It was the way of things in a tribe. Besides, they were curious about her and the King. She returned smiles and nods when she caught them and some women even stopped to speak with her.

  She stepped back when the last of the seeds were planted and admired the garden she had enlarged days before. She would have good crops when the weather warmed and when harvest came.

  She washed her hands in the bucket she kept near the rain barrel and cast a glance along with a smile around her home. She had come to care for this place. It had brought her solace when she so badly needed it and it was here she had joined with Talon.

  Nights now were spent with Talon in his sleeping chamber, but her days were spent here. Sometimes Talon would stop by and they would wind up inside, Talon ordering his guard that they were not to be disturbed.

  Things finally were good, though she did miss the woods terribly, but the time would come when once again she would be able to go there. For now, she was content and for the first time in a very long while she was happy.

  Though, the matter of the prisoner that had been poisoned still plagued her. She knew Talon had ordered Wrath and Paine to see what they could find out and had ordered her not to interfere. The water had been brought from the cookhouse. Servants had been questioned but nothing out of the ordinary had been discovered. It was all rather strange as to how the poison had gotten into the bucket of water.

  She thought back to her time at the cookhouse and how servants would come and go, Nock, the cook, not keeping mind of things. Anyone could have poisoned the water before it had reached the torture chamber, leaving an unknowing worker to deliver the fatal drink.

  Hemera decided to take a walk to the cookhouse and look about to see for herself if anything seemed out of the ordinary.

  She had gotten to know all of Talon’s personal guards since they took turns guarding her. Each were different yet the same when it came to guarding her. They all kept a watchful eye on her and not one of them would accept food or drink from her, Talon’s orders.

  Gerun was guarding her today. He was thick in body and solid as a tree trunk. She felt sorry for anyone who attempted to run into him.

  “I go to the cookhouse, Gerun, perhaps Nock will share some fine food with us.”

  That brought a smile to the usual stoic Gerun.

  Hemera was surprised when Gelhard approached her and she stopped, tilted her head and stared at him.

  Her strange ways unnerved Gelhard. He thought her a poor soul with little sense. It had to have been her beauty that caught the King’s attention and a queen needed more than beauty to reign beside a king, especially King Talon. Gelhard hoped the King would lose interest in Hemera as he did other women he had mated with, given time. He needed to delay the King from wedding Hemera or learn something about her that would convince the King he was making a mistake before he foolishly wed the wrong woman.

  “A moment of your time,” Gelhard said, fighting to produce a pleasant smile as she continued to stare at him. “I wanted to let you know that if you need anything—now that you are spending time with King Talon—you only need ask me.” He had tried to keep the distain out of his voice, but it had crept in.

  “I am grateful for your offer, but there is nothing I need. I have all I want and all that is necessary.”

  “I thought perhaps there was something you favored while with the Northmen and I could be of help in providing it for you,” he said, pleased with himself for finding an opening to speak with her about her time with the Northmen.

  Hemera scrunched her brow and she saw that Gerun did as well. “Why would I want anything that would remind me of my time spent with the Northmen?”

  Gelhard shrugged. “You spent many years there. You must have taken comfort in something.”

  “Freedom,” Hemera said without hesitation. “I took comfort every day knowing that one day it would be my last day there and my sister and I would finally be free.”

  “It must have been hard being held captive for so long.”

  Hemera stared at him again, though this time it did not appear as if she truly looked at him. Her eyes held a more faraway look and Gelhard wondered what she was actually seeing.

  Hemera shook her head, chasing past memories she did not wish to recall and not wanting to speak with Gelhard and continue to be reminded of her time with the Northmen, she turned and walked away.

  Her actions shocked Gelhard and he hurried up alongside her. “The memories must still be painful for you.”

  “You waste your time if you expect me to tell you about my time spent with the Northmen,” she said without glancing at the man.

  He stumbled, caught off guard, never thinking she would realize what he was doing, but now that she had. “Why? Do you hide something from us?”
r />   “Everyone hides something, Gelhard, even you.”

  He grew indignant that she could think to accuse him of such a thing. “I have nothing to hide. I am faithful to my King. And you will address me properly. I am the High Counselor.”

  “The very thing you hide. You should let Talon know how much you fear losing that respected and important position.”

  His eyes registered his shock, turning so wide Hemera feared they would burst from his head. Tired of him trying to extract information from her and wanting to think only on the problem of the poisoning, she hurried her footsteps, hoping he would realize she had nothing more to say to him.

  Gelhard would not be ignored, he rushed to keep up with the annoying woman.

  Hemera shook her head when she saw that little had improved at the cookhouse. Instead of keeping a designated area to dump the scraps for the dogs, as she had arranged, servants were simply tossing them out the cookhouse door.

  “Stop that,” Hemera yelled at a worker who went to throw a basket of scraps from the open door, and the man stilled. “Over there,” she said, pointing to an area a distance from the cookhouse.

  She saw that he was about to ignore her, but he stopped when Gelhard stepped forward and reluctantly went and dumped the basket where Hemera had told him to.

  Hemera looked about, disappointed that Nock had paid little heed to the suggestions she had made and continued to run the cookhouse so poorly. It was no wonder that someone could so easily poison the water that had been given to the prisoner.

  She was not surprised to see Nock, hurrying out the cookhouse door shortly after the worker had returned inside from dumping the scraps. Nock headed straight for Hemera with a hunk of bread in his hand.

  “High Counselor,” Nock said with a respectful bow of his head to Gelhard.

  He nodded in return and lifted his chin toward Hemera, hoping she noticed how properly Nock had addressed him.

  “I have brought some freshly baked bread for you to try.” Nock broke a piece off and handed one to Gelhard before giving a piece to Hemera.

 

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