The Lord of the Clans

by Chris Lange

  Her shaman pursed his lips with a thoughtful expression. The irony gone from his eyes, he blew out a loud sigh.

  “Ariana, you destroyed the greatest evil the realm has ever seen by sheer will. You’ve saved our race as well as our world, and now you’re worried that a mere man might not find you worthy enough? It’s ridiculous.”

  “He isn’t a mere man.”

  “Yes, I know, he’s the Lord of the Clans. And don’t you deem him responsible, protective, and just to his people? When it comes to men and women, isn’t he an excellent judge of character?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then why would he change his nature when he’s around you? What might prompt him to suddenly treat you like a nobody when he’s witnessed first-hand your valour and your courage?”

  In spite of her mentor’s reassurances, she couldn’t shake off the biting sensation knitting her belly. He was right about one thing though, she’d never felt this way around Kelton.

  Because her former betrothed was mild-mannered, sweet, and good-natured? Because he lacked the double-edged intensity and dangerousness that Cameron wore like a second skin? Fingernails scratching the palm of her hand, she uttered a single word in reply to her shaman’s question.

  “Lust.”

  “Ah, so that is what’s bothering you?”

  “You said yourself the princess is beautiful, so there’s no well grounded reason he wouldn’t desire her.”

  An awkward silence seemed to erect a barrier between them. At last, the gaunt man shook his head and stood up.

  “You’re being childish, Ariana. I trusted your encounter with darkness taught you a lesson, but it appears I was wrong.”

  His obvious disappointment in her pinched her heart. Confused by his statement, she raised her eyes to him.

  “What should I have learned?”

  He stared at her as though seeing the little girl she once had been. Leaning forward, he flattened his hands on the table.

  “Faith and hope are the keys.”

  With that, he straightened up and smoothed the lapels of his jacket. Her mind swirled while he walked to the door. Hope and faith had allowed her to defeat the Darkening, so why couldn’t she hold onto these feelings when it came to Cameron? Her shaman grabbed the handle, and she stood up.

  “Shaman, I trust him.”

  “I’m sure you do, but I’m not talking about him.”

  He exited the room without glancing back, and his last words echoed in her mind. She’d sensed all along that her lack of confidence might damage her life someday, but now she felt sure of it. She needed to have faith in herself, and from this moment on, she would.

  Silently vowing to never forget she’d overcome a great evil with only hope in her heart, she paced to the window.

  The city of Palance lay at her feet, majestic in its architecture, in the play of its colours and forms. The plain ahead appeared so vast that a thousand horses might gallop abreast toward the horizon. To the side, the green, lush forest spread as far as the eye could see.

  Living here must be wonderful, yet she missed home. More to the point, she missed the clan’s life with its daily chores and joys. The fantastic landscape glittered under the sunrays, but she didn’t see it anymore as a sudden longing twisted her insides and impaired her breathing.

  She’d have given anything to be back in Cameron’s cavern, to the first evening where she’d lain next to him on his pallet. He hadn’t touched her that night, but to her extreme embarrassment, she had held his cock in her palm. Did the Creators have a hand in it?

  The sound of hurried, booted feet broke her trail of thought and made her spin toward the door. Shivers coursed through her as the Lord of the Clans strode into the chamber, his grey eyes twinkling.

  “Where’s your shaman?”

  “He’s gone out for a while. We had a little argument after you left, but nothing that can’t be fixed.”

  Her mentor’s whereabouts didn’t matter as Cameron came up to her. Had he met with the princess again? Did he think her as beautiful as a shiny jewel? Remembering her vow just in time to quench a new assault of jealousy, she looked into the profound, silver gaze.

  “Well? Tell me what the queen said.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  Her startled expression must have told him volumes because a grin quirked the full lips she’d have loved to kiss again. Her pulse shooting up and down, she quivered when he folded his hand around hers.

  “But I’ll show you.”

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Half-striding, half-running, he led her along wide, stone corridors. Maids and lackeys went about their daily business while noble men and women conversed right outside open chamber doors.

  She realised his giant stature and hard features impressed everyone as courtiers and servants alike made way for them. Her shaman mentioned earlier that she was becoming quite the legend around the city, yet the people they walked past didn’t appear to be affected by her. Perhaps they had no idea who the big, determined lord was tugging along, or maybe his unusual size drew more attention.

  She’d have liked some time to take in her surroundings, but he kept on pulling her until they crossed a grand hallway and ended up outside. Aligned along the front entrance of the castle, every ten feet or so, royal guards on duty guarded the vast courtyard.

  A low wall overlooked the town ahead of them. The sun caressed the sturdy structure, but as she stepped toward it to take a peek at the city below, Cameron veered in a different direction. They circled the thick stone walls until they reached the back of the palace.

  She gasped at the magnificence of the wide gardens, mainly given over to serried ranks of flower beds on either side of a labyrinth. Directly in front of her, straight paths intersected at right angles.

  A whole variety of flowers were planted in such a way as to provide a range of fantastic colours which, in turn, stunned her. Despite the profusion, variety, and sheer brightness of the early spring hues, order remained the keynote. She squeezed his hand, overwhelmed by such natural beauty.

  “Can we stroll in this garden?”

  “Later.”

  She gave the wonderful gardens a last look while he urged her toward a small, wooden door set in the wall, next to the base of a round, high tower. At the threshold, he stepped aside to let her through. She entered and quickly blinked from the sudden gloom.

  Quite narrow, but long enough to receive about a hundred people, the chapel took her breath away.

  The place built to worship the Mighty Gods displayed a long, stone altar covered with a pristine cloth, a dozen marble statues embellished with dazzling jewels, ornamented counters featuring golden crowns set with diamonds, emeralds, rubies, sapphires, and rows of pews carved in precious wood. A splendid chapel worthy of a royal family.

  Eyes wide, lips apart, she started when he broke the sacred silence enveloping the house of worship.

  “This is the place where I shall marry my princess.”

  Well, so much for her shaman’s long speech about Cameron’s faithful nature. Agony wrenched her guts as though he’d punched her straight in the stomach. Unable to breathe properly, at a complete loss for words, she could do nothing but stare at the giant lord she had just lost.

  He looked so immense all of a sudden that she felt reduced to the size of a child. So imposing that she cursed herself for having nurtured impossible, incredible dreams. As she had already grieved his death, she’d now have to lament over the fact that she’d be deprived of his presence forever.

  He stood inches apart from her, yet in the name of the Creators, she didn’t know what to say as a lump tightened her throat.

  When he shifted, she felt completely empty. Nothing made sense anymore except the Lord of the Clans staring at her with such intensity that warm tears blurred her vision. Nothing seemed real except his huge body moving toward the ground as he got down on one knee before her.

  “Ariana, my beloved, I want you in my life, my bed, and my
heart, for you are the princess of my soul. I am honoured to lay my sword, strength, and spirit at your feet. I do not deserve your love, but shall you bestow it upon me, I vow to cherish and abide by you until death parts us.”

  One knee on the floor, he then bowed in a humble gesture. She watched the back of his head, his fair hair hanging down along the sides of his face, his hard body motionless while she tried to process his words.

  He wanted to wed her, but her closed throat wouldn’t work. He was asking her to become his wife before the Creators, and she couldn’t answer him because the wild lurches of her heart cut her off from thinking straight. She willed herself to speak, yet not a sound came out of her mouth.

  He kept still at her feet, head respectfully inclined toward the ground. She struggled for words, for a single one actually, but the battle raging inside her wouldn’t relent. Suffocated by the violent excitement of her pulse, and the lack of air becoming dangerous by the instant, she began crying.

  He raised his face when he heard the soft sound of her sobs. In this emotional moment, his usually impassive features showed extraordinary hope and love. Her tears now flowing freely, she quivered when he stood up to raise her hand up to his lips and gently place a kiss on the top of her fingers.

  “What say you, my lady?”

  “Yes.”

  She wasn’t sure she’d spoken aloud. Yet she must have, because he wrapped her up in his strong arms to spin her around. The stained-glass windows of the chapel flew past her eyes while he whirled her again and again. Just when she thought she might pass out from too much happiness, he set her down and cupped her face between his large hands.

  “I love you, flower.”

  The same words he’d pronounced in the Shrouded Mountains as the last breath left his dying body.

  She tasted salt on her own lips when he kissed her, his tongue holding the flavour of her blissful tears. Rocking from the depth of her emotion, she hung on to his mouth as though death would strike them in the chapel destined to see their union. Because such joy couldn’t be real.

  Yet, it was, and she revelled in the feel of his wanton tongue caressing her, igniting ripples of lust in her expectant limbs, stroking her mouth and lips with a fervour she wouldn’t have imagined.

  He wanted to marry her, and she’d spend her life by his side. In sickness and in health, she’d always stand by the Lord of the Clans.

  She uttered a gasp when he finally released her. Although his eyes burned with fierce desire and his breathing sounded harsh, he took a step back. Amazing, golden sunrays filtered through the stained-glass windows. They fell on his hair and lightened his tortured features as he winced.

  “By the Mighty Gods, I wish I could take you to my pallet right now and show you the power of my love.”

  She didn’t want anything else. The idea of him driving his huge cock into her prompted her to find her voice.

  “Can’t you?”

  He looked at her with such yearning that she felt like throwing herself against him. With a sigh, he caressed her cheek.

  “Not until we are wed, my love. As the Creators are my witnesses, I shall touch you again when you are truly mine.”

  How long would that be? As though he heard the question ringing in her mind, a grin stretched his lips.

  “The queen finally agreed to our union. We shall be man and wife in the hands of the Gods in three days time.”

  Three long days and even longer nights. The blink of an eye. An eternity. She wiped away the last of her glorious tears while he slowly raised his arm to twirl a lock of her hair between his fingers.

  ‘It will be a hardship, so in the meantime, we’ll sleep in separate chambers. I do not trust myself around you.”

  She chuckled then, her smile triggering new sparkles in his silver gaze. He let go of her hair and she quivered from the deep longing she’d have to bottle up inside her for another three days.

  “How did you convince the queen?”

  “The only way I had at my disposal on such short notice. I found a suitable match for her daughter.”

  “Really? Who?”

  “The Duke of Safolk. In spite of being from Borgom, he’s an acquaintance of mine, and I happen to know he’s looking for a wife. His high rank entitles him to such a match. The queen hasn’t failed to see that this union will give Palance an alliance with Borgom, should another war occur.”

  “That’s very clever of you.”

  “Yes, I’m a smart man.”

  She grinned, relieved to see his complicated dealings with the queen hadn’t impaired his sense of humour.

  “What about the princess? Will she agree?”

  “I don’t believe she’ll get her say in the matter. Yet, I think she won’t be too disappointed when she sees the duke.”

  “Why? Is he charming?”

  “Well, I’m not an expert on the subject, but he’s been known to turn quite a number of heads. Which is why I forbid you to look at him. From now on, I’m the only man you’re allowed to lay eyes on.”

  His amused, yet deadly serious tone heated her pussy. Her heart knocked against her side and wetness spread between her thighs as she wondered how they’d stay apart until the ceremony.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  The Lord of the Clans pledged his life to her in front of the whole of Palance. Dressed in an exquisite, white gown provided for the occasion by the king, she stood before the consecrated altar.

  The royal family sat on the front row of the chapel. All the way to the back, on the left of the central aisle, dozens of courtiers conversed with animated gestures or shifted in their seats, their brilliant suits and dresses lighting the atmosphere with their sparkling colours. A gathering she'd never witness again.

  Her shaman winked at her, appearing somewhat lost in the midst of their glittering gathering. He’d apologised for his harsh words two days ago, soon after she healed a little girl who fell from a tree. Although the Darkening had been destroyed, the magic from the Ancients still lived inside her.

  Scarred and brawny men filled the right side of the aisle, along with fierce-looking women. Cameron had informed her before the ceremony that they came to pay tribute to her. They were ranked soldiers from the resistance in the company of the Amazons’ elite from Moonstill.

  Together they had saved the realm of Palance a few months ago from the combined armies of Agravar and Borgom. The king and queen, grateful for their involvement, as well as in memory of the slain fighters, invited them to the wedding. So they crowded the narrow chapel today, their swords, daggers, and bows hanging from their hips or slung over their shoulders.

  The leader of the resistance sat in front of them, and Dear Lords, could any other man in the Four Kingdoms look as gorgeous as he? He gave her a courteous nod when their eyes met, his green, thankful gaze acknowledging her deed in the Shrouded Mountains.

  Next to him, a beautiful woman also nodded to her. She glowed with an inner radiance that appeared to infuse the place of worship with peace and wonder. Curious as to the identity of the lady, she figured she belonged to the mouth-watering leader of the resistance. No two other people in the whole realm could suit each other so well.

  She shifted her eyes toward the front row where the king and the queen waited for the minister to begin the ceremony. To their right, two lovely girls fidgeted beside a good-looking man and a young woman wearing a pink gown laced with pearls. Probably the princesses and prince of Palance.

  He kept glancing sideways toward the area where the royal family of Moonstill had settled, instead of paying attention to her and Cameron. Intrigued by his peculiar behaviour, she realised he was trying to catch glimpses of a fair-haired princess who seemed to return his covert glances. If those two had their say, no doubt there soon would be another wedding in Palance.

  The Lord of the Clans stood beside her, his big muscles stretching the elegant outfit he wore. True to his promise to the Mighty Gods, he hadn’t touched her for the past three days. She’d seen his
desire for her every time he looked at her, but he’d resisted the urge to rip her clothes off.

  Alone in her guest chamber, she had tossed and turned on the large bed well into the night, especially the last one. She missed him so much that her mind wouldn’t allow her repose. Then again, she’d slept for over half a moon and her body didn’t seem to need too much rest.

  The minister entered the house of the Creators, a sacred book in his hands, and the congregation rose to their feet. Conversations ceased, replaced by the sound of people shuffling and smoothing dresses.

  A shiver coursed through her when the religious man circled the altar to come to stand before them both. He opened his leather bound book with reverence, flipped through several pages and read consecrated prayers in the ancient tongue before turning his full attention to her. Hoping her voice wouldn’t betray her at the last instant, she repeated the sacred vows after him.

  As though she hadn’t breathed through her speech, she took a long, calming aspiration when the minister set the book down on the altar. He then indicated she should raise her right forearm.

  She heard someone sobbing as he placed a white satin ribbon across her outstretched wrist. With so many people filling the place, she couldn’t believe the depth of the respectful silence.

  The religious man took hold of his book again and began reading a different passage. Or maybe he went over the same prayers, but training with her shaman never involved languages, and she didn’t speak the ancient tongue.

  When it was Cameron’s turn to take the pledge, goose bumps broke out all over her body as his voice rang loud and clear within the chapel’s walls. Watched by a hundred people, including the royal family, she drew in ragged breaths and trembled while he recited the minister’s litany.

  “I, Cameron, Lord of the Clans, take thee, Ariana, to be my Lady, to have and to hold from this day forward. With my heart, I thee wed. With my soul, I thee treasure. With my body, I thee worship, till death us do part. And there too, I plight thee my troth.”