Shadowspire (Wytch Kings, Book 3)

by Jaye McKenna

  “No, I suppose not,” Ilya said with a grim smile.

  “Thank you, Ilya, for coming to tell us,” Garrik said. “I’m sure Jaire will sleep better knowing that Tristin is safe in your capable hands.”

  Ilya’s gaze shifted to Jaire, and his eyes unfocused. “Speaking of Jaire sleeping… he appears to be at the end of his strength. I know you need information, but it might be better to continue this meeting in the morning.”

  “I was about to suggest that, Master,” Kian said. “Especially now that they’ve started asking the same questions over again.” His dark eyes flicked to Vayne. “I imagine Prince Vayne is just as tired. It’s been a long, stressful day for all of us.”

  “I see,” Garrik said, lips quirking. “And I suppose I must listen to my healers. Very well, then. Any further questions can wait until tomorrow. Ord?”

  “My apologies, Prince Jaire,” Ord said with a nod of agreement. “I should have realized you’d need time to recover from your ordeal. Go and get your rest. The immediate threat to Altan appears to be over, and other than increasing the border patrols, there’s little to be done until we can arrange a meeting with the rest of the northern kingdoms. I’m content to wait until you’re both feeling stronger.” He turned to Vayne. “Vayne, perhaps you would like to see to Prince Jaire’s well-being? I’ll not be needing you for the rest of the night.” He and Garrik exchanged an unreadable look before he added, “Or tomorrow.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty. I shall… I shall see that Prince Jaire is settled comfortably.”

  “Indeed,” Garrik said, his grin broadening. “Since Ord will not be requiring your services, I ask that you stay with my brother for the night. To watch over him.”

  Vayne’s cheeks heated as he realized what Garrik and Ord were doing. “I… I should be very happy to watch over your brother, Your Majesty. Rest assured, he will be in good hands.”

  “Of that, I have no doubt,” Garrik said drily. “Now off with you. I don’t want to see either of your faces before midday. Is that understood?”

  Vayne dared not glance at Jaire, but he sensed the prince’s amusement. “Understood, Your Majesty.”

  The moment the study door closed behind them, Jaire’s hand sought his. “You don’t actually have to stay with me if you’d rather not,” Jaire said shyly.

  Vayne squeezed his hand. “I should like to. If… if you’d like me to stay.”

  Jaire glanced up at him and then away. “I should like it very much,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

  “Then I will stay and watch over you, as your brother has requested.”

  Jaire led the way back to his suite. When he’d closed the door firmly behind them and locked it, he turned and leaned against it with a sigh.

  “Are you all right?” Vayne asked.

  “I am now,” Jaire said, rubbing his eyes. “I just want to fall into bed and sleep. Sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be much good for… um… reading in bed. Not tonight, anyway.”

  “That’s all right,” Vayne assured him. “Neither will I.”

  Two nightshirts were already laid out on the prince’s bed, and Jaire frowned at them. “They’re up to something,” he muttered as he began to strip.

  “Who?”

  “Garrik and Ord. Did you see that look they gave each other when they told us not to show our faces until midday?”

  “Ai. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.”

  “I can’t see them pushing us together when they’re supposed to be negotiating my betrothal. I suppose Garrik thinks I ought to be allowed to have a bit of fun before I’m married off.”

  Jaire climbed into bed, but Vayne hesitated until Jaire patted the empty spot beside him.

  “Do you think they’ll still make you marry Lady Bria?” Vayne asked as he pulled the covers up over them.

  “I can’t think why not.” Jaire lay back against his pillows. “Even if they can unite the northern kingdoms and break away from the Council’s rule, they’ll still want to strengthen the ties between themselves. And what better way to do that than an alliance marriage? If Garrik has his way with this alliance of his, I predict there will be an epidemic of royal weddings in the northern kingdoms. And I suppose I shall have to attend every one of them.” He brightened then, and added, “But maybe I won’t need to produce the heir. If Garrik intends to break ties with the Council, there’s no reason why he couldn’t give Altan an heir himself.” He gave Vayne a shy look. “Bria and I have already discussed the terms of our union. She shall have her lover, and I shall have… um… I mean… she won’t mind if I… if I show you my books. If… if you still want to see them.”

  Vayne smiled. “I should like that very much, Your Highness, but I think we should wait until we’ve both had some sleep, ai?”

  Jaire started to protest, but was stopped by a great yawn that nearly split his head in two. “I suppose you’re right,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to fall asleep in the middle of a story, would I?”

  “I should be most distraught if you did. Especially if I was the one reading it to you.”

  Jaire chuckled, and Vayne drew him into his arms, gave him a chaste kiss, and closed his eyes.

  * * *

  When Jaire opened his eyes, he found Vayne lying beside him, already awake and propped up on one elbow, as if he’d been watching him sleep.

  “Good morning,” Vayne said with a smile. “How did you sleep?”

  Jaire stretched. “Better than I expected.”

  “And how do you feel?”

  “Surprisingly good,” Jaire said, sitting up. “Have they brought breakfast yet?”

  “Half an hour ago.” Vayne rolled out of bed. “I’ve brought the tray in. Shall I fetch it? I thought you might be hungry, since you didn’t eat much at all last night.” Before Jaire could answer, he brought the tray over and set it on the table beside the bed.

  Jaire grinned as he caught sight of it. Melli had sent up flat-cakes with butter, honey, and strawberry jam, and some of Jaire’s favorite fruit pastries. He reached for a pastry and took a bite before Vayne had even poured the tea. The blackberries Melli had used were perfectly ripe, and Jaire’s eyes drifted shut in bliss as the flaky pastry melted in his mouth.

  “Mmm, I do love Melli. If I liked girls, I might even marry her.”

  Vayne laughed as he settled back on the bed beside Jaire. “I suppose I shall have to learn to make pastries, then, if I am to have any hope of capturing your heart.”

  Jaire gave him a shy smile. “No, you’ve already done that, my dragon-prince. When you came back to Shadowspire for me. And… and when you gave me my heart’s desire.” He reached behind him, slipping a hand down the top of his nightshirt to brush against the dragon tattoo.

  “And what was your heart’s desire?”

  “To be able to fly,” Jaire said, unable to hide his smile.

  “Ah. And does your heart have any other desires?”

  “You know it does.” Jaire’s grin widened. “I should very much like to show you my books.”

  Vayne’s answering grin was decidedly wicked. “Any book in particular?”

  “Several. But I think we should finish breakfast first. We wouldn’t want to get them all sticky.”

  “Why not?” Vayne dipped his finger into the blackberry topping on his pastry and wiped it across Jaire’s lips. “Licking off the jam could be rather entertaining.” He leaned forward, tongue brushing lightly across Jaire’s bottom lip.

  Jaire shivered and parted his lips. Vayne licked off the jam before exploring Jaire’s mouth with his tongue. The kiss sent a rush of heat straight to Jaire’s groin, and he wriggled closer to Vayne.

  He’d never kissed anyone like this before, and he liked it very much. Vayne’s arms went around him as his tongue continued to work its magic, licking every scrap of the sweet blackberry glaze off of his mouth.

  When they finally pulled apart, Jaire reached for the honey. “I suppose as long as it gets lapped up quickly, it
won’t ruin anything. Where should I put it, I wonder?”

  Vayne’s dark eyes twinkled. “On the first page, perhaps?”

  “Hmm. I’d have to open the book for that, wouldn’t I?”

  “Ai, you won’t be able to do it with the cover in the way.”

  Jaire suppressed a nervous giggle. “Should I take the cover off, then?”

  “Only if you want to see what’s inside,” Vayne teased.

  “Oh, I do. Very much.” Jaire set the pot of honey down and tugged Vayne’s nightshirt over his head. Like Jaire, Vayne wore nothing underneath, and Jaire’s eyes traveled over him, drinking in the sight of him.

  He reached out a tentative hand and pressed it against Vayne’s chest, cheeks heating as he lifted his eyes to meet Vayne’s. “I… I’ve never done this before,” he whispered.

  “It’s all right,” Vayne whispered back. “It’s been a very long time since I’ve done it. We’ll learn with one another.”

  Jaire ran his hand down Vayne’s chest, following the trail of dark hair. “I might be able to find a book… with pictures…”

  Vayne tugged at Jaire’s nightshirt. “I’ve read plenty of them.” His voice was a low, husky growl. “And I’m starting to remember all sorts of things I’d like to do to you.”

  “What… what kinds of things?”

  “Things that will make you feel so good, you’ll forget all about books.”

  “Oh…” Jaire let Vayne remove his nightshirt. Then Vayne pulled him into his arms, and Jaire trembled with the power of the heat building inside him.

  Vayne kissed him deeply, rubbing his body against Jaire. Heat and want flared through Jaire, and he flexed his hips, thrusting against Vayne. Vayne’s hands were everywhere, stroking and pressing, leaving trails of fire behind as they roamed over his skin.

  Just when Jaire thought he was about to explode from the sensations coursing through him, Vayne lay him back on the bed and dipped a finger into the honey pot. He placed a drop of honey on each of Jaire’s nipples and then dragged his finger down his chest and over his belly. Jaire’s eyes widened and his pulse beat faster as Vayne dipped into the pot again and laid another smear along the length of Jaire’s cock.

  Jaire could only stare at him, speechless, when he realized what Vayne meant to do.

  Vayne bent his head and began to lick the honey off of him. Jaire moaned as Vayne licked and sucked the honey from his nipples. He hadn’t realized he was so sensitive there. Every swipe of Vayne’s tongue only served to increase the heat racing through him.

  Taking his time, Vayne worked his way down Jaire’s body, exploring every bit of him with his lips and his tongue. As he moved lower, Jaire became desperate for more. His hips flexed, and his hands clenched the bedclothes as Vayne’s mouth moved down his body with agonizing slowness.

  When the dragon-prince finally licked a drop of honey from the tip of Jaire’s cock, Jaire cried out and bucked his hips. Vayne chuckled and swallowed Jaire’s cock in one quick motion.

  Jaire’s whole world narrowed to the sensations coursing through him, and he came harder than he’d ever done using his own hand. Vayne licked him clean then crawled slowly back up his body, making sure he’d found every bit of honey.

  When he kissed Jaire, his mouth tasted of honey and salt.

  “You seem to have remembered rather a lot,” Jaire said when Vayne finally broke the kiss.

  “Didn’t I tell you?” Vayne said with a wicked grin. “I have an excellent memory.”

  Jaire returned the grin as he pushed Vayne onto his back and reached for the jam pot. “You might like honey best,” he said, “but I’m rather partial to jam.”

  Vayne’s eyes burned with dark fire as Jaire smeared the jam all over him and proceeded to lick it off. The dragon-prince’s moans and whimpers spurred him on, even when he wasn’t certain he was doing it right. When Jaire began to lap the jam from Vayne’s cock, Vayne’s hips began to move. Jaire fell into the rhythm Vayne set and it wasn’t long before Vayne was crying out with his own climax.

  How long, Jaire wondered, since anyone had touched Vayne? Or kissed him? Or held him? Jaire settled beside him and wrapped his arms around Vayne, holding him close.

  “I’m glad I can touch you now,” he whispered.

  “So am I,” Vayne said, staring into his eyes. “I missed being touched. Very much. It’s… far better than I remember.”

  “And far better than I dreamed,” Jaire said.

  “Missing all those years was well worth finding you,” Vayne murmured.

  Jaire smiled and gave his ghost-prince another kiss.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jaire scowled at his reflection in the bedroom mirror. His formal tunic was black with silver trim, a stark contrast to his pale skin and white-blond hair.

  “I hate wearing black,” he said to Vayne, who looked very handsome in royal blue. “It makes me look even more like a ghost than you did the first time I saw you.”

  “I think you look lovely,” Vayne said, smiling. “And anyway, it’s just for today. Once the betrothal agreement has been signed and announced, you can wear anything you like.”

  “What I’d like is to wear nothing at all, except perhaps some honey and strawberry jam, and spend the day in bed with you.”

  “Tonight,” Vayne promised, dark blue eyes heating as they traveled over Jaire.

  The arousal pouring off of Vayne warmed Jaire’s body and turned his mind to mush. “I can’t wait that long,” he whispered, moving closer and tipping his face up toward Vayne’s for a kiss.

  Vayne’s arms went around Jaire, and the hard length of heated flesh pressing into Jaire’s hip suggested that Vayne couldn’t wait, either.

  Finally, Vayne broke the kiss, his reluctance to do so washing over Jaire in a soft wave of gentle regret.

  “By the time we’re alone again, I’m sure all I’m going to be good for is falling asleep,” Jaire said in a gloomy voice.

  Jaire had been summoned to Garrik’s study to look over and sign the betrothal agreement before Court this afternoon, and Ord had requested Vayne’s presence as well.

  “Tomorrow, then. Breakfast in bed, perhaps?” Vayne winked, and Jaire’s cheeks heated at the memory of yesterday’s breakfast.

  Just thinking about it was enough to get him all hot and bothered. Yesterday, while Vayne had been busy with Ord, Jaire had taken some time to venture into the library’s back room to have a look at some of those old books he remembered poring through with Garrik so very long ago. Now, he had all sorts of ideas for things he and his dragon-prince could get up to once they were alone.

  When he and Vayne arrived at Garrik’s study, Willem admitted them, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Good luck, Your Highness,” he murmured to Jaire, “I suspect you’ll need it.”

  “I shouldn’t be at all surprised,” Jaire murmured back, giving Willem a pained grimace. He only hoped Garrik had managed to talk Ord into making the concessions Bria had asked for. If he hadn’t, Jaire wasn’t sure what he would do. He could hardly make a scene, especially if his marriage to Bria was to be one of the foundation pieces of Garrik’s Northern Alliance.

  In the study, Garrik and Ord were already seated at the table. Wytch Masters Ilya and Ythlin were there, as well as Master Ristan and one of Ord’s advisors. Vayne took a seat on Ord’s side of the table. Notably absent was Lady Bria.

  “I suppose we’ll have to wait upon the lady’s convenience,” Jaire said, taking a seat. “I can start reading over the agreement while we’re waiting, though.”

  Garrik arched an eyebrow, and shot an amused look at Ord, who smirked as Master Ristan pushed the documents across the table toward Jaire.

  Jaire began reading, then blinked at the names on the first page of the document. “What is this?” he said, looking up at the two Wytch Kings.

  Ord cleared his throat. “Ah. Well. I regret to inform you I spoke with Lady Bria just this morning, and it seems she would much rather marry Altan’s new assistant we
apons master than its prince.”

  “She what?”

  Garrik broke out in a grin, his amusement tickling the edges of Jaire’s awareness. “Ai, she was quite adamant about it, wasn’t she, Ord?”

  “Quite,” Ord said. “We thought the alliance in tatters, but then Garrik had the brilliant idea of marrying off Prince Vayne instead. If you’ll have him, that is.” Ord glanced at Vayne and then at Jaire. “I’m given to understand that might not be too much of a trial for either of you.”

  Jaire couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face. “Garrik, you sneaky bastard!” he said gleefully. “I should be honored to take Prince Vayne as my husband. If he’ll have me.”

  Vayne smiled. “I would indeed have you, Prince Jaire.” He leaned toward Jaire and lowered his voice to a husky growl, adding, “Any way I can.”

  Jaire blushed, and Ord and Garrik both laughed.

  “Excellent,” Garrik said. “I trust there will be no more snide comments about older men, given that your intended husband is so much older than mine.”

  “Husband?” Jaire asked.

  “Ai,” Garrik said with a grin. “If I’m going to break tradition, I might as well go all the way. It’s about time I made an honest man of that Wytch Master of mine.” He turned to Ilya. “What do you think about that, Ilya?”

  Ilya’s cool facade melted away, and he gave Garrik a heated look. “I think it’s rather timely,” he said mildly, “considering this alliance you and Ord have been cooking up is likely to leave me out of favor with the Council.”

  “Then you’ll marry me?” Garrik asked, snaking an arm around Ilya and pulling him close.

  “I would be honored, Your Majesty,” Ilya said, and kissed him soundly.

  Jaire and Ord both burst out laughing. When Garrik and Ilya broke apart, Garrik was smiling broadly. “Well, then. Let us get the details out of the way.” He gestured to the betrothal agreement, still lying in front of Jaire. “It’s quite straightforward, but I’d still like you both to read it over before you sign it.”