by Lexi Ander
The sun began to descend, and for the first time in Ewen’s life he did not wish to be in the forest once darkness fell.
XXVII
ALL EVE ROI HAD awaited a chance to be alone with Ewen, his patience stretching tight over the rising tide of emotions that had gathered about him as the day waxed and waned. Time seemed to be gathering itself, perched, ready for he knew not what. Roi sensed he had very little time left, though he prayed it was but his imagination. So waiting to put his hands upon Ewen was an exquisite pain of growing anticipation.
The moment Ewen closed the door to the bedchamber, Roi pinned him there, Ewen’s forehead pressed against the dark-hued wood. Roi’s fingers encircled Ewen’s wrists, holding them against the door as he covered the rest of Ewen’s body with his own.
There were so many things he wanted to do with this man, with his family, but he feared the coming days. His dreams… something bore down upon this place, the signs of vast change to come meeting Roi’s eyes around every corner. If his time truly was short, then he needed to make sure Ewen gave him an oath or two.
“We must speak of yer time spent with us today, yer family. They need ye. Ye mustn’t lose yerself so utterly again.” Roi nipped the back of Ewen’s ear in reprimand, then placed a soft kiss behind the flair of his ear.
“Ye must understand—” Ewen halted, then gave a low deep moan when Roi rubbed against Ewen, pressing his firming manhood against the cleft of Ewen’s breech.
“Oh, but I do. There shall ever be an excuse, a reason of much consequence. Do ye think yer babes shan’t age?” Ewen grunted and pushed back into Roi’s rotating hips. “Bestow upon them a bit of yer time every day. Include them in yer tasks when ye can, lest ye end up with regrets once they be grown.”
Ewen could have manhandled Roi, taking control. Instead Ewen widened his stance, arched his back, and tilted his arse up, looking for something more. Roi released Ewen’s hands to grip his hips and pull him hard into Roi. Reaching beneath the tunic to the ties of Ewen’s breeches, Roi pushed them down Ewen’s thighs. His exposed arse beckoned, calling for Roi’s touch.
Running his palm over Ewen’s warm skin, the rough hairs of Ewen’s legs stopped under the smooth swell of his breech. Ewen panted softly as Roi explored him with his touch. Up over the curve of his buttocks to the indent at the small of Ewen’s back that peeked out from underneath Ewen’s light-coloured tunic. Someone had embroidered Ewen’s house emblem along the hem, an extravagant touch.
Pushing the garment up Ewen’s back, Roi followed it with his tongue pressed flat against Ewen’s spine, gathering the salt of Ewen’s sweat until Roi reached the base of Ewen’s neck. He bit the thick muscle of Ewen’s shoulder, not breaking the skin but leaving behind two red impressions of half crescents that would darken into bruises. Roi stared at the mirror image of Cerridwen’s symbol he had made, but quickly pushed the unbidden thought aside.
“Roi,” Ewen growled out, plaintive, voice rife with yearning.
The way Ewen said his name… all his life Roi had espied Ewen in his visions, loving Ewen’s visage, the emotions drawn upon Ewen’s countenance, Ewen’s agonizing, broken, caged aura calling to Roi. Yet not once in those dreams had Roi heard Ewen’s voice to imagine Ewen beckoning him, calling Roi’s name when his voice spoke of the passion evoked by Roi’s very touch.
Since becoming a part of Ewen’s household, Roi had learned to love Ewen in a way he had not all those years prior. Now Roi knew Ewen, knew the man he was. Skimming his palms over Ewen’s chest, the coarse hair tickled Roi’s skin as he moved his hands down to frame Ewen’s stiff manhood.
“Tell me what ye want,” Roi whispered into Ewen’s ear. “Do ye want me moving inside ye? Filling ye? Or do ye wished to be sheathed within me?”
Roi encircled Ewen’s hot flesh with his hand. Ewen’s hips bucked, pushing the column through Roi’s loose fist, Ewen’s growl growing louder with each passing moment. Roi bit Ewen’s other shoulder, causing Ewen to mewl through clenched teeth.
Ewen pushed from the door, breaking the circle of Roi’s arms. Roi moved back, working the ties of his trouse. Ewen pulled the tunic over his head and dropped his trouse to the ground, leaving him clad only in his shoes when he turned. By the heated look in Ewen’s eyes, Roi doubted he would be removing them soon.
Was anyone under the heavens more magnificent? Roi knew Ewen was conscious of the fact he did not encompass the type of beauty esteemed by the courtiers of King Malcolm’s court. Roi cared not. Ewen was perfect as he was, and ever would be in Roi’s sight.
Roi stepped back with each prowling step Ewen took towards him, his gaze never leaving Ewen’s as he divested himself of his clothing. When the back of his legs hit the mattress, Roi stilled, waiting for Ewen to decide what he would do.
Ewen grasped Roi’s face between his palms, a thumb running over Roi’s bottom lip. “I know what I want. You?”
He raised his eyes to Ewen’s, heart beating hard in his chest. “Everything,” Roi whispered.
Desperately he wished he could have every heart’s desire, even knowing it was not possible. If not, then he would hoard and steal all that he could, treasure each moment with Ewen, with his family and kin. Roi would burn into his memory Ewen’s face, his form, and the feel of his touch.
Aware not of Roi’s inner thoughts, Ewen took his mouth in a crushing kiss, forcing Roi’s lips apart, helping to push all else aside. Roi reached for Ewen’s shoulders to pull him closer, but Ewen caught his wrists and shoved Roi onto the overly soft mattress, then fell onto Roi with a growl. Ewen’s lips latched onto the column of Roi’s throat, kissing his way down. Roi arched up to meet Ewen, gasping as limbs and other sundry parts came together.
Ewen bit Roi just above the navel afore he took Roi in his warm, wet mouth, Ewen’s large hands gripping Roi’s hips. He raised his shoulders off the mattress, curling into Ewen as Ewen sucked and laved, tending to Roi’s hard shaft as if he were a starved man. Bringing Roi to the edge afore withdrawing with a wicked grin, Ewen’s finger rubbed enticingly over Roi’s arse where he wanted Ewen to breach him.
“Aye, there. Fill me.” Roi’s voice sounded unlike his own.
“Oh, I shall, my leman, but not like this,” Ewen purred, his countenance dancing with wicked delight.
Roi rolled over and reached for the small crock of salve he had prepared this day. Removing the lid, a hint of clove filled the room. Ewen growled, but not with passion this time. A staying hand kept Roi from rolling to face Ewen. Stilled, Ewen ran his palm down Roi’s back, the way cleared as the bandages had been removed at midday. They had come away with dried blood, but what Roi could reach seemed hale and whole. He knew not how, only that his back was no longer plagued with biting pain.
Ewen explored Roi’s skin lightly, his growl growing louder. He bore Roi to the mattress, Ewen’s hot length trapped betwixt them as Ewen covered Roi with his bulk.
“You be mine, Roi mhic Alric. I care not what creature has marked you. I shan’t let ye go. Do ye hear me?”
Roi gasped out a ragged aye when Ewen bit him just as Roi had done him. Ewen dipped his fingers into the crock, scooping out a liberal amount. Kneeing Roi’s legs apart, Ewen raised up slightly and Roi awaited with bated breath. One of Ewen’s arms burrowed under Roi’s armpit, across his chest to grasp the opposite shoulder in a tight hold as Ewen quickly worked Roi open.
“Now, Ewen. I need ye to fill me now,” Roi begged, pushing back wantonly against Ewen’s hand.
Ewen argued not put pressed the blunt tip of his manhood into Roi, slowly sheathing his length and causing Roi to gasp out Ewen’s name like a benediction. Roi could never forget what it was like to be speared by Ewen, filled as Roi yielded all that he was to Ewen.
Ewen covered him completely, the arm beneath holding Roi still as Ewen thrust in quick jabs, his flesh cleaving Roi’s time and again. He tried to push back, to take Ewen deeper, but Ewen clamped his teeth down on Roi’s shoulder, eliciting a grunt of pain from Roi. Instead,
he went limp in Ewen’s arms, whispering Ewen’s name over and over. Some deep, hidden part of Roi—beneath his worries about the future, all his self-doubt—yearned to be claimed by Ewen, manhandled and ravished until all his strength was gone and he forgot all else, if only this once.
Roi clenched and squeezed around Ewen. Ewen snarled in his ear, biting him again on the side of his neck. With a rough noise, Ewen released Roi, pulling out and leaving Roi feeling hollow. Grasping his hips, Ewen pulled Roi up to his knees.
“Keep your shoulders upon the mattress.”
Roi complied, mewling when Ewen thrust fully into him. He savoured the pleasure of being filled thusly, of being pierced over and over. Ewen’s bruising grip anchored him as Ewen plunged into him time and again, setting a harsh rhythm that Roi revelled in. He did not readily hear the words Ewen spoke harshly for some time, not until Ewen’s voice grew louder as he approached his peak.
“Mine, only mine…” Ewen repeated, his voice deep, guttural, possessive. Roi was unsure Ewen even knew he spoke aloud.
Ewen would reach his pleasure afore Roi. The nigh violence of their lovemaking did not allow Roi a moment to take himself in hand, lest Ewen push Roi off the bed. Not that he cared.
Ewen roared as he spilled deep within Roi, his groin grinding against Roi’s arse as he attempted to mark Roi’s very core, even though his name was already written there. Uncoupling, Ewen rolled Roi onto his back, smacking Roi’s hand away from his aching manhood to take Roi into his mouth and suck him down.
Roi could not even gasp a warning, his pleasure coming fast at Ewen’s sucking and play of tongue. He began to spend, opening his mouth wide to scream though the sound was trapped in his chest. Ewen drank him down, his hazel eyes demanding Roi give him all.
Ewen crawled up Roi’s sated body and leaned over him, his eyes watching every nuance upon Roi’s visage afore swooping down for a kiss, giving him a taste of his own seed. Roi’s response was ardent as he circled his arms about Ewen’s waist to draw him down.
Burying his nose in the curve of Roi’s neck, Ewen drew in Roi’s scent. When he spoke, his lips brushed against Roi’s skin; “Tell me what weighs upon your mind this night.”
Roi grinned; he was not as clever as he believed. “Danger walks the land. Can ye not feel it, as if we be working against time, that something comes?”
What is to come shall change all our lives, Roi left unsaid because the more he spoke, the more Ewen’s visage became one of alarm. Clearly Ewen felt no such warnings.
“Have you had a dream? Seen the future of me people?”
“Nay.” Roi had dreamed only of events outside the Highlands. The king’s death, with war following afterwards, but nothing of Ewen’s people beyond the brigands having Brigid… yet.
“Are you unsettled over last night and the drakon? I shan’t allow harm to befall you.” Ewen looked so earnest.
Roi glanced at Ewen’s shoulder. The loong seemed to have shifted on Ewen’s skin until it, too, gazed down at Roi. Ewen noticed none of it, and Roi was loath to say aught until no other recourse remained.
“Nay. The drakon and its purpose, I believe, be separate to the issue with the warloghes. I do not believe the two be connected.”
Two sets of eyes, one pair Ewen’s hazel, the other the bright blue of the loong, blinked at Roi.
He sighed. “Pay me no mind. Mayhap I see shadows where naught exist,” Roi lied. Even shadows, imagined or not, held the portent of danger.
Ewen’s visage turned a shade more worried. “If you say, then I shall heed your words. Do not belittle your worries because my senses be not as keen as yours. I shall be watchful. Let us pray any disruptions fall after the celebrations.”
Roi groaned and buried his face in Ewen’s neck nigh to the loong. He contemplated moving when he imagined the creature stroked his hair. Surely that much movement would draw Ewen’s eye?
“Do not remind me,” Roi finally mumbled. The castle was abustle with preparations for visitors, people who would come and congratulate Ewen for finding his mathan’s marrae. Already Roi was hounded about spices and food, colours and garments. The children attempted to teach him to dance. Brigid announced she would sing for them.
A thought occurred to Roi. “Freya, the children’s aunt, why she be always so dour?”
Ewen chuckled and rolled off Roi onto an elbow. “She has a sharp bite, but she adores the children. I know not what I would have done without her since Catriona’s passing.”
“Mayhap ye should tell her.” Freya scowled and snapped, but she was not cruel. She seemed to tolerate Roi well enough. More than once Roi had watched her curb her sharp words in light of the children’s happy countenances over something small and inconsequential.
Ewen’s bright gaze seemed to map Roi’s visage over and over. “Aye, I shall. And likely have my head bitten off for my troubles, but I shall do as you say.”
Roi squirmed as Ewen slid his hand down Roi’s chest, over his hip, to grip the back of Roi’s thigh to urge him onto his side to face Ewen. Drawing Roi’s leg over his, Ewen leaned in to seal Roi’s lips to his. The blood in Roi’s veins heated.
Breaking the kiss, Roi drew back to consider Ewen’s eyes. “Ye be the only man to hold my heart,” Roi whispered, shy of a sudden.
Mayhap he should have awaited to tell Ewen; if Roi had not felt the press of time, he would have. Ewen knew he evoked soft feelings of joy, but Roi needed to give him the words so there would never be any doubt.
Ewen’s eyes flared wide, a slow smile playing upon those kiss-swollen lips. Roi’s renewed firmness lay betwixt them. Their next joining was not merely of their bodies but of their minds, their souls, as they moved together far into the night.
XXVIII
THE NEXT DAY ROI found to be harrowing. Ewen stayed in the bailey, and together they greeted newcomers and well-wishers. At times, they accepted gifts and small trinkets. Despite the dour events of the last few weeks, the air held a jovial happiness.
Roi smiled and greeted people, but his gaze oft searched the crowd. His senses screamed for him to run. The nervous energy which would lend itself to fighting or fleeing gathered and sat heavily between his shoulders. He sent up more than one prayer to Cerridwen for Ewen and the children’s safekeeping.
At midday, an oily slithering crawled over Roi’s skin. He stood with Ewen under a pavilion erected to give shade from the sun. The tables from the great hall had been moved to the bailey and laden with all manner of food. A boar turned upon a spit. Children ran about playing their games. Some of Ewen’s kin brought their humble instruments out and gathered together, playing jaunty tunes as others danced.
Earlier, Freya had taken the children inside. Brigid and Eumann had been caked with mud, causing Freya to go into a tizzy. Much to their disappointment she had demanded they clean up.
Roi scanned the throng, searching for that which caused his unease. More visitors poured through the gate, some hooded and cloaked, others not. A well-known ornate cloak caught Roi’s eye.
“No,” he whispered.
Ewen glanced at him, his laughing smile falling from his countenance.
Roi took a step back, his gaze returning to the familiar garment. When Roi had been captured and taken to the King of the Isles’ court for Gillie Ainndreis’ pleasure, Gillie Ainndreis hosted frequent visitors. One in particular had made Roi’s blood run cold. Roi had done all in his power not to be noticed by the man, yet Roi had experienced his brutal cruelty on more than one occasion. Just the sight of him caused the food in Roi’s stomach to curdle.
Ewen followed his gaze, and Ewen’s back straightened. “No,” he gasped in shock.
Did Ewen know Lord Shaye Drake? Roi moved farther away from Ewen, his heartbeat hard and fast in his breast.
“Granda?” Ewen murmured, wonder infusing his voice.
Roi had a moment of shock as his world realigned. Ewen’s granda, the one who had taught Ewen of his people, travelled extensively with Ewen, whom Ewen recalled
with fondness even if the man had caged Bear within Ewen’s body, was the same man who had a taste for the cruel twist of torment. Lord Drake’s visits to court always resulted in new scars for Roi.
Next to Lord Drake was the man from Renfrewshire, Cináed, who had urged Ewen to slay him. Roi swept his gaze once more over the people in the bailey, counting the hooded figures that seemed to be awaiting word or signal. Oily, ethereal fingers slithered over Roi’s skin as the power built. Warloghes. So many of them, yet none the wiser.
He glanced back at Ewen, his throat raw of a sudden. Time. They had not enough time together. Roi took another couple of steps towards the double doors of the towerhouse. What he needed lay inside, but leaving Ewen’s side caused a deep, sharp pain within his breast. Regardless, Roi would be of no use to Ewen if he stayed.
Ewen glanced back at Roi, noticing his retreat afore meeting Roi’s eyes with dawning realization.
“It be a trap,” Roi said loud enough for Ewen to hear afore turning on his heel, hastening through the crowd to the double doors. He could not falter in his duty lest all be lost.
Arailt and Edan loitered in the great hall, and Roi called them to him. Something in Roi’s voice or countenance stayed their tongues. Their faces turned stern, tension rolling off them in thick waves of a sudden.
They followed Roi to the door behind Ewen’s banquet table that led to the lesser hall for Ewen’s private dining. Once the door closed Roi began to talk quickly, for there mayn’t be much time to explain.
Hastening across the room, he opened the door to Ewen’s bedchamber, glancing over his shoulder to ensure they followed. “Warloghes be in the bailey. I have charms that can combat the geas they shall attempt to place on Ewen’s kin. Be either of ye wearing the pouch Avory made?”
Roi was not surprised at their negative responses. They were wyrbears, and thought themselves safe here in their territory. Roi hastily threw back the lid to the trunk, tossing the garments within haphazardly upon the bed as he delved beneath them to the small pouches he had hidden there. His hands shook, causing him trouble with the drawstring, the charms almost falling out when Roi finally managed to loosen the tie. He handed over two of the necklaces that he and the children had made the day afore.
