She could feel the time of her leaving creeping up on her, rushing toward her faster than she had imagined it would.
“For now, you must return to your studies,” Sian said. “We made great progress this morning.”
Yes, learning that her magical abilities were tied to her emotions had been an important step. If only she could tap into those emotions at will, perhaps she’d be able to manage a few more of Sian’s tricks.
He was a good teacher, but an exasperating man. When she’d given him the concoction she’d devised, he’d slipped it into his pocket and turned away from her. She supposed that was better than refusing to accept the vial, or laughing at her offering. Not much better, but some.
Heavens, she hoped he didn’t try to ingest the mixture. Not that it would harm him, but it would surely taste horrendous.
Enclosed in the space that had become their classroom, Sian immediately began the lessons once again. He had already lined up several objects of varying size and heaviness on the table. One of the objects was a small knife.
Ariana lifted the knife and hefted the weight of it in her palm. “I sent the bowl hurtling toward your head, and you select a knife for the next lesson?”
He smiled. “You must learn control.”
“Must I? Now?”
“Yes.”
Ariana turned her attentions to the array of objects. The manipulation of energy she needed to master was tied to her emotions. Goodness knows she was a bundle of emotions at the moment. Duran would soon be departing for Tryfyn. Sian would not leave the palace with her when the time came. When she led her army away from Arthes, she would be more alone than she had ever been.
Sian knew she still needed his power added to hers, so she was not surprised when she felt his hand at the small of her back. One touch from the powerful enchanter, and her magic was greater than before.
She saw the energy rise on the palm of her hand. It swirled and danced and sparkled, white and blue with touches of purple the color of Sian’s eyes. Holding her breath, she threw the energy toward a book Sian had placed at one end of the table. The book opened, and the pages fluttered.
“Good,” he whispered. “Very good.”
Ariana turned her attentions to a small cup filled with water. She thought of nothing else but that cup, and with a wave of her hand she was able to lift it from the table. The cup floated in the air for a moment, and then she separated the cup from the water inside, so that the water floated on air.
“Wonderful.” Sian’s voice was deep and soft, a rumble that almost caressed her skin.
Ariana’s energy began to fade. A few droplets of water fell to the table, and her focus faltered.
“Emotion,” Sian said. “Always emotion.”
The cup began to tremble, as if it was preparing to fall.
“Think of pain if you must,” Sian instructed, his voice growing sharper as he sensed she was about to let the cup fall. He pressed his hand more firmly to her back. “Think of your long ago love, and the way you felt when you discovered it was false.”
She had not expected him to turn their private moment into a part of her lesson! It was a kind of betrayal, one she had not expected of him. A rush of anger rose to the surface. The water returned quickly and neatly to the cup, and the cup lowered to the table with a snap. Ariana turned her attention to the small knife. In a flash, it rose from the table, turned on air, and flew toward the door, where it thunked solidly into the wood.
For a moment all was silent in the room, and then Sian muttered, “Very good.”
“I didn’t send it anywhere near you, so don’t sound so worried.”
“I’m not worried,” Sian said unconvincingly, as he dropped his hand and stepped away from her.
There was a knock at the door, and a moment later it opened. Duran stepped into the room, a sealed note in his hand. He left the door open, so he did not see the knife. “Sorry to interrupt your lessons, Ariana, but I’m to leave the palace tonight.”
So soon? Arik had wasted no time. “Oh.” She tried to pretend innocence. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to Tryfyn, with a message for cousin Lyr. Well, more rightly I have a message for the new Prince of Swords.” He waved the note, then placed it in the inside pocket of his green sentinel’s vest. “I hate to leave you here unprotected, but I won’t be gone a moment longer than is necessary.”
It would take weeks to travel to Tryfyn, deliver the note, and return. By the time Duran’s chore was done, she’d be gone.
If he knew she had a hand in this, he would never forgive her. Ariana stepped calmly toward her brother and smiled. “Have a wonderful trip.” She took his face in her hands and kissed his cheek. “Give Aunt Isadora and Uncle Lucan my love. Lyr and the girls, too.”
“I will.” Duran glared down at her. “Are you all right?”
“I’m very well.” She hugged Duran close, and for a moment she infused him with a healer’s health, a healer’s protection. A sister’s love.
Duran glared at Sian in an overly protective, brotherly manner, then once again said good-bye to Ariana. When the door closed behind him, she began to cry. She did not sob, but large tears ran silently down her cheeks. It was very likely that she would never see her brother again.
She turned to find the objects on the table dancing. The knife, which was still embedded in the door, quivered. Sian was not touching her and still, the objects were affected. Ariana wanted no more lessons, but this moment only proved what Sian had told her to be true. Her emotions and her power were linked. Her ability to do what needed to be done depended on her ability to harness that emotion. With tears running down her face, she pulled the knife from the door. The hilt lay, cool and heavy, on the palm of her hand.
The objects on the table stilled as she focused her energy on the knife. Sian knew what she was trying to do, and he did not reach out for her. This was a test. Could she function without his added power? Were these lessons wasted when he was not with her? The knife spun on her palm and flew from her hand, speeding toward the opposite wall at her command. It again imbedded itself in wood, this time directly over a picture frame which held the portrait of some long-departed emperor’s daughter whose name had been forgotten.
“I am impressed,” Sian said reverently.
“Don’t be,” Ariana said as she crossed the room to retrieve the knife. “I was aiming for the curtain’s sash.”
The sash in question was several feet away from the portrait, but what she’d accomplished was a start. A very good one.
***
He needed rest. Three sleepless nights he could handle, but four? Yes, he needed sleep, but he could not allow Ariana out of his sight for more than a few minutes, even though he had seen no glimpse of Diella since the episode in his quarters.
Pacing outside Ariana’s room, Sian reached into his pocket and fingered the vial of potion she had fashioned for him. There were other ways for a woman to trap a man than with a child. He already felt too connected to this witch he was sending to her death. He already felt tempted to accompany her into a battle that was not his to fight.
He had spent years in study, in order to make himself more than a man. In deepening his magic he had by necessity often separated himself from that which made him mortal. People were not as important as the honing of his skills. Emotion was not as important as knowledge. And yet here he was, feeling like nothing more than a man where Ariana Varden was concerned. She waited on the other side of this door, and she wanted him to join her. At this moment he cared only about what his body demanded. Ariana wanted more from him, he knew that. She wanted the comfort of being held, as well as the sex. It wasn’t the physical pleasure that would bind him to her. No, it was the closeness and that comfort that would undo him.
That had already undone him.
He unlocked her door magically, and opened it in the same way. Using no magic at all, he closed the door behind him and rebolted it. The vial sat on the palm of his hand.
“How is this applied, and how long does it take to be effective?”
Ariana was awake. Given the excitement of the day, he was not surprised. What did surprise him was that beneath the coverlet that only partially concealed her body, she was naked.
She had known he would come. She had known he could not resist her.
Ariana sat up, and the coverlet fell to offer him a full and unobstructed view of her breasts. She reached out, offering one hand, palm up. “May I show you?”
Sian was not an overly trusting man, and with good reason. He had never before considered giving a potion of a witch’s design to her hand for application of an unknown sort.
And yet, he placed the vial on Ariana’s palm.
“You must remove your clothing,” she instructed.
“I assumed as much,” he said as he began to hastily disrobe.
“You could smile for me,” she teased.
“Or I could not.” This was, after all, a moment purely physical. He need not seduce her with smiles or sweet words. He need not pretend that the true love she had waited for had arrived. She was special, and he would not lie to her.
Not about this.
He joined her on the bed, and she uncapped the vial. Sitting before him, she poured a few grains of the powder onto her hand. “Smell,” she whispered, moving her hand close to his nose.
He began to inhale deeply but she stopped him, moving her hand quickly away and laughing lightly. “You are not to take this up your nose, just enjoy the aroma.”
Sian did not feel the need to enjoy the aroma of anything but Ariana’s skin, but to appease her he sniffed at the concoction. It did smell good. Perfumy, but not too sweet or flowery. Musky, but not too much so.
She laid her finger on the bridge of his nose and traced the length.
“I have a tremendous nose,” he said. “Does it repulse you?”
“It’s a fine, noble nose,” she responded, “long and straight, perfectly shaped and impossible to ignore. Please be assured that nothing about you repulses me.”
Ariana took the palm full of contraceptive powder and lowered it slowly. Her hand came to rest low on his belly, the backs of her fingers barely touching the erection that had driven him to this bed. She made small circles with her hand, rubbing the mixture into his skin and arousing him even further.
The scent grew stronger, and it, too, was arousing. Her hands grew warmer, and so did his skin.
“Are you certain this creation of yours will work?”
“Yes.”
She sounded confident, which was good, since he no longer cared if her concoction would be effective or not. He no longer cared about anything but being inside this woman who was his in a way he had never expected. He was her teacher. He was the bearer of the foretelling of her death.
Tonight he was the man who had come to show her that there was much more than she’d ever imagined between a woman and a man.
He would not take as much time preparing her as he had on his first night in this bed, but he would not jump upon her like the animal he felt himself to be. Remembering the sweet taste of her breasts, he kissed her there and suckled on her nipples. Her reaction was strong, and she arched her back to bring herself closer to him, to urge him on.
His skin seemed to slide against hers. She was smooth and warm. He was rough and burning. They were very different, and yet they were the same. In strength, in need, in surrender, they were much the same. While he caressed her breasts, her hands wandered, tracing hills and valleys, teasing and tweaking and stimulating. The woman had lightning in her fingertips.
Ariana brought her mouth to his, demanding a kiss. Taking what she wanted from him because he had lost all will to fight her. Had he ever thought her weak? Had he ever believed her to be powerless? Her tongue teased his, sweet and unbearably arousing. Her lips moved over his, and, her hands... her hands continued to study.
She draped one leg across his hip, while they were still lying on their sides, and took the tip of his erection into her body. Just the tip, nothing more. She swayed there, teasing him and herself, telling him with little moans and catches of her breath that she liked what she felt, that she wanted more... but not yet.
Sian wanted to see more clearly the woman who was wrapped around him, so he cast a small circle of wizard’s light over the bed. In this dim light her skin looked even paler than before, as flawless as ever but ghostly. Luminous. She had asked for no magic on his first night here, but tonight she did not seem to mind the light. Eyes opened, she watched him as she continued to move. While their eyes were locked, she took him an iota deeper, and the sensation was beyond any he had ever experienced.
He wondered if Diella would attempt to make an appearance. If she did, would he be able to stop? He saw only Ariana in the eyes that were locked to his. Diella could never fake the emotion he saw there. The warmth. The love that a woman like her gave when a man touched her in this way.
Not her true love, perhaps, but love just the same.
Unable to wait any longer, Sian rolled Ariana onto her back. He did not need to force her thighs apart in order to push inside her. She opened herself for him. She lifted her hips off the bed and swayed into him with a primal force that matched his own.
Their release was quick, powerful, and in harmony. Ariana’s muscles milked him as the spasms of her release squeezed and fluttered along his length, and he climaxed while buried deep inside her. She did not scream, but instead whispered his name again and again, in a husky voice.
Movements slowed, breath came unevenly, and Sian became aware that the light he’d created for them had died. He had completely lost his focus. All of his power had been flowing into Ariana.
Perhaps he could not change her destiny, and he could not change the single-mindedness of her days. But the nights to come could be pleasurable. He could share with her the beauty she had been promised. As a woman. As a Fyne witch.
“How long is your potion effective?”
“Three days,” she whispered. “Perhaps four, but three is safe. You can come back to me tomorrow night and—”
“Come back?” Already he was growing hard again, which was a surprise. Perhaps there was more to her concoction than preventing the creation of a child.
He did not have need of light to see her reaction. She was hurt. “You’re not coming back tomorrow?”
“Coming back implies that at some point I will be leaving.” He moved inside her, and she felt his growing length. “I’m not going anywhere, Ariana, unless you send me away. Unless you ask it of me, I won’t leave you alone.”
***
Ariana draped her body across Sian’s, sated and happy. Happy, when the world was threatened and her life was not her own. Happy, when her future was more uncertain than it had ever been. Neither of them slept, but they were silent in an easy and companionable way, and had been for a while. Now and then Sian’s hand would caress her in an almost absent manner, palm raking across her hip or her thigh. More than once she had brushed her fingers across his chest, or down his side.
Dawn was coming when Sian said, “I have an idea.”
Ariana rose up and smiled down at him. “Another one?”
“Yes, another one.” He sat up and left the bed, heading for her chest of drawers.
Ariana watched this beautiful naked man who seemed so at home in her room. She admired the shape of his body and the way he moved with such masculine grace and confidence. For now he was hers, and he did belong here, in this room, with her. And when she left? Well, she chose not to think about that any more than she had to.
He opened her top drawer and rummaged there.
“What are you looking for?” she asked.
“Rope, ribbon... a length of something sturdy.”
Ariana slipped from the bed, as naked as Sian and as unconcerned by her state of undress as he seemed to be. She went to the opposite corner of the room, where her sewing kit was stored, and grabbed her basket of supplies. She was q
uite an accomplished seamstress, and passed many hours on one project or another. She placed the basket on the bed, and Sian joined her as she delved inside.
“I have ribbon.” She snagged lengths of red and white ribbon from the basket, and placed them on the bed in a jumble. “Did you say rope?” Beneath a few decorative pieces, she had a tangled length of a rough twine.
Sian studied the ribbon and the twine, but when she pulled the last offering from the basket, he smiled.
He took the leather cord from her hand and hefted it. “This is perfect. Sturdy and soft.” He shook out the cord, which was a good length.
Ariana took a step away from him. “You’re not going to tie me up again, are you?”
“Not unless you ask me to,” he responded, a hint of teasing in his usually serious voice.
“Then why do you need that leather cord?”
Sian ran the length of the cord through his hands, making sure there were no tangles. No knots. When that was done, he took the two ends in his hand and tossed the cord over her head, circling her waist and pulling her gently toward him.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “Oh, when you said you had an idea, I should’ve inquired as to what sort of idea you spoke of.”
His expression was entirely serious now. “Your strength has grown, Ariana, but you are still stronger when I touch you.”
“I am,” she whispered.
“And yet I cannot be with you all the time.”
His words stole a portion of her happiness.
Sian lifted the cord so that it was caught behind her neck, trapping her hair. He then wrapped the cord around his neck, binding them together. Ariana grabbed one end and reached around his back, and he did the same. It, wasn’t long before they were closely and completely bound together by the thin leather cord.
“We have been one in body,” he said, “and with a few spoken words we can be one in spirit as well. We can meld our energies, Ariana. You can invite a piece of me into you, through this simple cord and a few words, and in that way I will always be with you. Do you consent?”
“Yes.” There was no hesitation in her voice, or in her heart.
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