“We have been looking for you for some time,” he said carefully. “We are not your enemies.”
“Prove it!” she snapped. “Take me home, and then never let me see you again.”
“We can't,” interjected one of the men by the fire. He was more slender than the man who sat across from her, blond with a carefully tended jawline beard. “We need you, you see.”
“Need me?” She glared, uncertain as to what kind of bandits she had fallen in with.
“That's enough,” their leader snapped. “Soon enough for her to know what we need.”
“I think I want to know right now,” she retorted. “Whatever you need, it was important enough to storm a defenseless nunnery and to strike down a frail old woman.”
Riona's breath caught in her throat as the memories of Abbess Beni flooded her mind again, of the old woman rushing toward the bandit, brandishing a candelabra in defense of her home and those she protected.
To his credit, the bandit leader looked slightly abashed even as he shook his head. “It was not my intent to harm her, but to win you, I am afraid I would have done much worse.”
“Is that meant to flatter me?” Riona spat. “Am I meant to be honored that you came into a sacred place and wreaked havoc there?”
“Not honored, but perhaps forgiving with time.” He shrugged.
“That's fantastic, Rordan,” called the pale man. “That will make her do what you want.”
Despite her dire predicament, his light tone made Riona's mouth quirk in a smile.
Rordan scowled. “I had hoped to begin better.”
“Then you might not have started with a kidnapping,” she said succinctly.
Close to the fire, the other bandits began to snicker. Her captors were very strange.
“Was there another way to make you come?” he asked, and in that bare moment, it was like something had opened between them. She looked him in the eye, and for a dizzying few seconds, it was like she knew him, and that he knew her. It was a strange moment, and almost absently, she felt something click into place, something that she had been missing her entire life.
She meant to answer him sharply, but what came out instead was soft and honest. “I don't know,” she admitted. “It would have depended on what you said.”
Rordan sighed, looking at the ground. “I would have asked you to come away to a people who have need of you, both your skills and your blood, the people you have always belonged with.”
For some reason, her thoughts veered toward the night before, when she had heard the wolves howl, and wondered at the meaning of their cries.
“You're werewolves,” she said softly, and now that she looked, she could see it in the yellow and green of their eyes, the grace of their limbs and the way they occasionally tilted their heads to listen to the forest.
Rordan nodded, a little reluctantly, but when she sought his gaze, he held it.
“We are people,” he said, his voice rough and deep. “Our tribe is among the oldest in the world and... and we have need of you.”
“You don't even know my name,” she said, mystified.
He grinned, wide and full of teeth. “I do,” he answered, “or at least I think I do. It must be Rioghan, or Rionach, something like that, yes?”
She blinked. “Yes,” she said uneasily. “Riona, actually, but how did you know?”
His laugh was sharp. “Your parents kept to some customs, at least. Your name means queen in the old tongue, Riona, and it's something you carry in your name and your blood.”
“You knew my parents?”
“Knew of those like them, anyway.” Rordan hesitated. “You're of the wild folk, my lady, and you were meant to walk the wild ways alongside my tribe.”
She shook her head as if trying to clear it. “No...” she said softly, and when he started to argue, she cut him off with an angry glare. “No! I will not be led by this so-called story of yours, or by what you say is in my blood. I am myself, and you cannot take that away from me.”
Rordan's eyes sparked with temper, and he leaned in closer. “I'm not trying to take anything from you, I'm trying to give you what has been yours all along!”
“At the expense of felling a harmless old woman, yes, I was there!”
Something furiously angry flashed across his face, and Riona didn't know what would have happened if the slender pale man hadn't sauntered up to them.
“Much as I love seeing you dig your own grave, Rordan, I have to step and grant guest right to our poor hostage. She looks famished, and maybe if we give you both some food, you'll be less inclined to snipe at each other.”
The two men seemed locked in a furious battle of wills for a moment, but at last Rordan gave an abrupt nod.
“I'm Ferric,” the blond man continued, turning to her. “That quiet lad over there is Angus, and it was Siobhan who sent you off to sleep while we effected our daring escape from your old women and little girls.”
“Sorry about that,” Siobhan called, sounding at least a little abashed.
“Anyway, we have food, nothing fancy, but there's bread and meat, and if your head is a little less sore, perhaps you'd share it with us.”
She realized that she was in fact hungry, and after a mutinous glare at Rordan, she came closer to the fire. There was something deeply familiar to her about sitting at their fire and sharing their food, and before too long, she found herself being lulled by their talk and their easy friendship. Ferric had a jibe for every occasion, though the sharp-tongued Siobhan gave as good as she got. Angus watched the interplay between his two friends avidly, but Rordan sat slightly apart, eating his own food with grim determination.
“The hour grows late, and we should be abed,” Rordan said. “We need to return as men and not wolves, and that means sleeping nights.”
There was a chorus of good-natured groans, and Ferric tossed Riona a blanket. “Best make the most of it,” he advised. “You're with us for the time being.”
She meant to stay up and wait for a chance to slip away, but the events of her day caught up with her, and underneath the warm wool blanket, she drifted off to a fitful sleep as the wolves decided who would stand first watch.
***
Riona woke with a start, unsure how much time had passed or even where she was at first. She looked up past the tree branches to see a night sky crazed with stars, and the events of the day rushed into her, as she shot up with a start.
The fire was banked, but sitting close by was Siobhan, one booted foot propped up on her knee, and one hand flipping a dagger smoothly up in the air.
“I need to relieve myself,” Riona said softly, and Siobhan nodded.
When Riona made to walk past, the wolf stood and followed her a ways into the forest.
“You can't think I'd let you out of my sight,” she said at Riona's aggrieved look.
“I rather hoped you would,” Riona admitted. “Look, you can't think it's right that I'm being held here, can you?”
Siobhan shook her head. “No, I don't, but I do a lot of wrong things because the alternatives are worse.”
Riona started to ask what she meant, but the other woman shook her head tightly. With a disappointed shrug, Riona relieved herself behind a bush, but when she returned, Siobhan was staring into the darkness. Even as a human, she gave the impression that her ears were pricked and that her hackles were rising.
“Go back to camp,” she snapped at Riona, and before Riona could respond, Siobhan sprinted off into the darkness, moving fast and silently as a shadow.
Riona stared after her for a moment, and then immediately started moving away. She knew which way Siobhan had gone, and she knew which way camp was, and if she only avoided both of them, she might find her way back to the nunnery.
It should have frightened her, being out in the wilds, but instead there was something comforting about it. She pushed away the thought that there was something to what Rordan said, about her blood, and she pushed the strange feelings he had stirred in
her away even harder. Still, as she made her way with increasing confidence through the forest, she could still feel his amber eyes on her, looking right into her and waking something she couldn't name.
She walked long enough that even her strong legs were tired, and when she almost stumbled into a stream, she finally needed to rest. Riona had no idea how long she had walked, but the sky looked no lighter. She leaned close to the water to scoop a handful to her mouth, and then she remembered that all of the rivers and streams flowed to the sea, to the west. If she walked upstream, she would be heading east, which would take her to the settled lands where the nunnery was.
Following the stream in the dark was easier said than done, and she found herself heaving herself over fallen trees and slowed to a snail's pace by the bank, which occasionally ended abruptly.
She was just navigating her way around a large spur of dead tangled trees when the ground suddenly crumbled underneath her. With a violent curse that she should not have known, she slid on her rear down the bank.
She stopped her descent by digging her nails frantically into the dirt, but anger at her predicament gave way to fear when she realized how close she was to the water and how steep the bank was. Riona tried to think of a prayer, but all that came to mind were curse words that would have made the sisters drop their jaws in dismay.
Carefully, she shifted her weight so that she was a little closer to one of the tree roots that protruded from the bank. It didn't come out of the bank when she yanked on it tentatively, and she saw that she could move from it to the sturdy limb directly above.
Holding her breath and steadying herself by bracing her feet against the embankment, she grasped the thick root in both hands and started to move. She was just beginning to think it was going to work when the root shifted, and then gave way entirely, sending her plummeting toward the water.
The stream had turned to a river, and the cold of it shocked her body like lightening. She flailed, taking in large gulps that panicked her even further, and to her panic, she could feel herself spin away from the shore.
I'm going to die here, she thought with alarming calm, and then there was an almighty splash next to her and arms as strong as steel wrapped around her. She could hear an already-familiar deep voice bellowing at her, but she was too panicked to understand. Frantic, she pushed against him before she could stop herself, but he was as solid as a brick, and in a handful of moments, her rescuer dragged her to the bank, where they could climb up easily. He threw her upon the ground as if she weighed nothing, and slumped down next to her.
She lay on the sand, coughing up river water by what felt like the bucketful and crying from fear. Now she could see that it was Rordan who was so close to her, rubbing her back to sooth her. His hands were warm, bringing life back to her, and soon she could talk.
“You saved my life,” she finally managed to say through chattering teeth. “I could have killed us both in the water.”
“You don't listen very well,” he said, and even after the water, she could hear a thread of humor in his voice. “Did you not understand what I meant, Riona? I would do terrible things to keep you safe, I would suffer terrible things to bring you home.”
The word home stuck in her mind, and while there were pictures of the nunnery there, there were other images as well, of campfires, of the mead halls that Ferric and Siobhan had told her about, and bonfires that sent sparks high into the air.
“Come on, we need to get warm and dry.” With no more warning than that, he swept her up in his arms, making her squeak in surprise, pausing only to retrieve the heavy cloak and sword that he had dropped by the bank.
“No, I'm too heavy,” she argued automatically.
Rordan snorted. “It's nothing. It was worse when you were clawing at me in the river.”
When he set her down under the shelter of a niche formed by two leaning slabs of stone, he tore down several pine boughs, stacking them in a frame and then laying more over them. Under the shelter of the stone, it was a serviceable if bristly bed, and he went to start the fire.
“Where are the others?” she found herself asking.
“Leading away hunters while I went after you,” he said wryly. “They'll take them on a beautiful chase before meeting us again.”
She watched as he coaxed the fire from small flames to a warming blaze, and almost dreamily, she let her eyes drift over the lines of his body, from the width of his shoulders to the handsome narrowness of his hips. He was dressed like his friends, in boots and furs, and the sword that lay close to hand told her what kind of man he was.
Still, she could not stop looking, and when she tried to distract herself, she could only focus on how cold she was, and how heavy her drenched gown was.
Rordan looked up when she rose, doubtless wondering if she was making another escape attempt, but his jaw dropped open when he saw that she was squirming out of her clothing. Beneath her gown was a thin white chemise that fell halfway down her thighs, and she knew how the fabric clung to her generous curves.
“I'll dry and warm faster this way,” she said, her teeth chattering.
He gestured her closer to the fire.
Her back was cold, but her front warmed nicely, and she shot him a look. “Take them off,” she said, pointing at his clothes. “You'll freeze inside those furs.”
He bared his teeth at her playfully, suddenly more wolf-like than he had been before. “What a thing to say,” he said teasingly. “You'd think it was the proper thing, a maiden telling a man to strip.”
“It is the proper thing,” she said primly. “Only silly people worry about propriety when they've just been dunked into frigid water.”
“I defer to your good sense then,” he said, and he stood to unbuckle his belt.
She knew that he wore furs, and underneath them a plain white shirt of linen. Instead of stopping at the furs and boots, however, he pulled the linen shirt over his head, standing in front of her bare as the day he was whelped.
Riona's mouth opened slightly, but she couldn't muster up a girlish yelp or a prudish tut of disapproval. She thought she should, but it all fell out of her mind when she saw the sharp jut of Rordan's hip, the lean length of his thigh, and his cock, dark and heavy against his flesh, more than a little hard.
“If this is a game, you're losing,” he said, and she thought she could hear a strain in his voice that hadn't been there before.
“No game,” she said, after swallowing twice. “Just...” Her words trailed off as her eyes roamed his body up and down, and when she focused on his eyes, she could see that he was doing the same. He took in every curve of her, the hang of her belly and weight of her thighs, and he licked his lips with wolfish appetite.
“Do you know what you are doing, innocent little lady?” he asked, his voice hushed. “Do you know what it does to a man when you look at him so?”
Her gaze landed straight on his cock again, which was harder now.
He made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a groan. “Say I can come close,” he said from across the fire. “Tell me to come to you.”
There was no other choice in her mind. There couldn't be, when she was confronted with his masculinity and his body so beautiful and so close, not when he asked her with that pleading tone in his voice. If there was a thought in her mind that he would have disobeyed her, she would have pushed him away, but now there was no other answer she could make.
“Yes,” Riona said, her voice full of longing, and he leaped the fire to land at her side.
She started to speak again, but his mouth was on hers. He was gentle at first, his mouth moving slowly and delicately over hers, but when she pressed her body to his, his tongue pressed firmly between her lips. In surprise, she parted them, and the way his tongue slid into her mouth awoke a deep thrum in her belly, making her whimper and press even closer to him.
“Tell me when I must stop,” he said, breaking their kiss. He took her face between his two large hands, making her look at
him. She could see the fire reflected in his eyes. “You must tell me if you would stop...”
She only nodded. She couldn't imagine wanting this to stop, ever, not with the pleasure that just his mouth brought her, and now she knew that she needed more. He smiled and pressed her back into the pine bed. Some of the branches pricked her soft skin, but she cared less about it than she did about the way that he stretched out by her side.
Reverently, he slid her shift up over her head and threw it aside before tucking his face into the crook of her neck. She squirmed when he lapped her there, but the trembling sensations that radiated from his mouth made her gasp out loud.
“Beautiful woman,” he crooned. “I'll be so easy with you, so good to you...”
His mouth, surely the warmest thing she had ever had on her skin, made her whimper, and she pressed even closer to him. She could feel the hardness of his cock against her soft flesh, and though she knew that she should have been shocked, even frightened, she only wanted more.
Her hands ran up the corded muscles of his back, touching him with increasing boldness, and when one hand dipped down to squeeze his hard thigh, he laughed a little.
“Wanting little lass, aren't you?” Rordan muttered. “Lovely, too...”
He reached a hand down and ran it over the curve of her belly, and she shivered at how gentle he could be.
“You're beautiful, so beautiful,” he sighed, and he brought his mouth down to nuzzle her breast before taking a dark, thrusting nipple in his mouth. It shocked her that he would do such a thing, but she was taken by a wave of hot pleasure. He pulled at her sensitive flesh gently, and then, when she wondered if she could take any more, he put his teeth to the sensitive nubbin of flesh and nipped down with the gentlest of bites.
Hearts Aflame Collection III: 4-Book Bundle Page 10
