Taking one hesitant step after another, she crossed the room and gazed into the second, steam-filled chamber. A bathing pool surrounded by gauzy drapes took up most of the floor. It was unoccupied, the waters smooth, but several windows were propped open, allowing the night breeze to play with the drapes along the back wall. They fluttered open, giving her flashes of an alcove complete with wide padded benches. Sorntar reclined on one.
The deep resonance of his cooing told of his intense enjoyment. A blush burned along her cheeks, and she looked away. Sorntar deserved privacy, these were his dreams. She wouldn’t like it if he invaded hers.
He mumbled something low in a deep throaty voice and her resolve broke. Her gaze snapped back to the drapes. The night breeze indulged her wickedness and pushed at the drapes with renewed vigor. Sorntar still reclined on a bench, one freshly oiled wing spread out drying.
Her heart thundered in her chest. Unable to resist, Ashayna drew closer. The curtain blew back, exposing more of his body. Muscles rippled under his dark skin as he shifted positions and tucked his wing back in place, revealing a cloaked figure she hadn’t realized was there.
The same breeze that toyed with the drapes, shifted the woman’s robes by times and flashed glimpses of her nakedness.
A woman shared the alcove with him.
Jealousy, hot and ugly, erupted in Ashayna’s soul.
She took three steps forward. Then fisting her hands at her side, she forced herself to stop. It was Sorntar’s dream, which made it none of her damn business.
Damnation, but she wanted to know the identity of that other female partaking in mutual grooming with Sorntar.
The mysterious woman rested one hand on his shoulder and the other braced on his bent knee and she leaned forward for a kiss.
“Ash,” Sorntar growled out his partner’s name against her lips.
Anger and resentment vanished so fast, they left Ashayna weak-kneed and shaking.
Through a veil of gauzy fabric, she watched her dream self unclasp the cloak and straddle Sorntar’s powerful thighs. He reached up and drew her face down to his for another kiss, and this one possessed a smoldering heat that promise to end only in one way. At his gentle urging, the other Ash shifted farther forward on his lap, positioning herself over him. Even from a distance, Ashayna saw Sorntar’s dark lashes flutter shut as he sighed out a deep groan of pleasure.
Ashayna swallowed hard. Her own breath sped from her lungs in response to that passionate sound. When her legs threatened to collapse, she forced them to hold her upright.
“Itharann, get me out of here.” She yearned to shout at the manipulative Larnkin, but didn’t want Sorntar to become aware, so settled for hissing under her breath instead. “Now.”
Itharann chuckled. “Little scout, you can stay or go as you please. The choice is yours. If you want to escape, simply show yourself and tell Sorntar the truth. He’ll free you from his dream.”
“Now? I can’t go to him now. He’s a little busy.” She furrowed her eyebrows. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because you and he both have a flair for making things harder than they need be. You must stop hiding things from each other and learn the value of trust.”
“There’s got to be a better way.”
“Perhaps, but this is more entertaining. By the way, this is Sorntar’s dream about your wedding night. Your mother’s talk of weddings gave him ideas.”
“Itharann.”
“Yes?”
“You’re an ass.”
“You might want to save name calling for later. You’ve got company.” With that he vanished from her mind.
“Where did you go?” Sorntar’s husky voice washed across her ear. “You were there one moment and gone the next.”
“I…” she stammered.
Strong arms embraced her from behind. He dipped his head and nibbled at her shoulder. With a deep, heated sigh, Sorntar pressed against her back. She held herself rigid for a moment until she realized the only way to hide was to be at the center of attention. If she played it right, Sorntar would never know this was anything more than a dream. She closed her eyes, sinking into the sensations. The heat of his body beckoned, and she realized she might not need to act.
She turned in his arms, and stroked fingers down his chest, over hot, smooth skin and hard muscle—warm and real, nothing like a dream. He shivered under her touch.
His thick lashes rose slightly. Passion-darkened eyes regarded her with a look of desperate hunger.
“Beloved, why did you leave me? Did I not please you?” His voice was velvet against her breast bone, stirring heat in her blood to the point where she couldn’t think. “Or am I simply demanding too much too soon?”
She swallowed hard, fighting for control. Honor screamed that this was Sorntar’s dream, and she was invading his privacy. She needed to leave now, or tell the truth. It was on the tip of her tongue. She looked up into his eyes...and saw his uncertainty and hunger.
Her resistance unraveled. “You please me very much. It’s just…I was overwhelmed…and scared.”
“Don’t be.” Sorntar’s arms encircled her waist. “I’ll always be here for you.”
She rested a hand on his chest as she leaned up to kiss him. His lips claimed hers. He tasted of passion and fire and Sorntar. Eager and yet uncertain, he slowly eased more of his weight against her. With a sigh, she leaned into his embrace, everything forgotten but the man holding her.
* * * *
Ashayna awoke with a jerk, the memory of the dream fresh.
“Ah, you’re awake. Good. I’m tiring and Sorntar will wake soon.”
A hand rubbed the small of her back in a gentle caress. Sorntar’s Larnkin. Itharann. Heat swirled through her core as memories returned. Had they actually done those things, or was it all a dream?
“Dream,” Itharann confirmed. “And I had no idea you were such a passionate little thing. What do you think my host would have done if he’d woken with you atop him? Fully dressed or not, I don’t think it would have mattered. Though,” he said, sounding thoughtful, “your mother might actually have preferred that outcome, as she could go ahead and start planning that wedding she’s been sniffing after.”
Ashayna lifted her head and gasped when she realized she was straddling Itharann.
“Now, don’t wiggle. You’ll arouse him again.” Itharann chuckled. “Unless that’s your plan? If so, I think I’ll just retire from playing chaperon.”
“No.” Ashayna rolled off him. “Please. He’ll not understand…I…I had no right to invade his dream like that. It’ll complicate things too much. You shouldn’t have sent me there.”
“You didn’t have to join in.”
“What else could I have done?”
“I honestly didn’t think you would yield so fast.” Itharann frowned at her. “I’d expected your stubborn Stonemantle will to overcome a case of lust, and then you and Sorntar would talk, laugh at the small things pushing you apart and learn to trust each other. Hum…well, then I did expect you might engage in a little healthy foreplay.”
“I don’t care what you thought.” She needed to leave, to think far away from the sight of Sorntar. She ran her fingers through her hair, then tidied her clothing. It still felt like the glow of her skin would give away what she’d done. “Sorntar won’t understand. You will not tell him. You’ve caused me enough problems.” Her life was spinning out of control. Panic lurked in the shadows of her mind. Sorntar would want more. He’d want her heart and soul along with her body.
He’d just proven her body was easy to win over, and her heart was following along in alarming fashion. But her soul? Ashayna remembered the story of the Destroyer, uncertain if she had one. A shiver raced up her spine.
The Larnkin’s expression softened as his amusement fled. “Very well. I’ll keep your secret. Though I think you’re making a mistake. Secrets tend to breed trouble.”
She couldn’t tell him the real reason for her fear, so she told a hal
f-truth. “I’m not ready to take this further. I don’t want to hurt Sorntar, but my rejection would do just that. I know you think my fear over a wedding is silly compared to the dangers of bonding early. And yes, it is, but I need to feel like I have at least a little control over my own fate. Of late, my whole life has whirled out of control. I can’t deal with anything more right now.”
“Easy, Ash.” Itharann stroked her hair out of her face. “I protect what’s mine. And Sorntar isn’t your enemy either. You have nothing to fear from him.”
“But he’ll hate me for my deception.”
“No he won’t. Trust me. Go back to your rooms. I’ll stay long enough to clean up.”
Ashayna groaned in embarrassment, but found her voice. “You’re certain Sorntar won’t know.”
“Not unless you decide to tell him. In which case, he’ll likely go looking for your mother and sign that marriage contract before you have a chance to blink. But hate won’t be one of the things he’s thinking about when he does it.” Itharann chuckled, his voice warming. “Go. He’ll not know there was more to this than a heated dream.”
Ashayna didn’t stay to hear more and fled the room.
Chapter Twenty
The nineteenth day of Sorntar’s visit to River’s Divide looked to be as dreary as the first eighteen days.
Shortly after waking on the second day of his stay, he’d discovered coastal monsoons had arrived in the night. Enchanted, he’d watched as the heavy rains painted misty halos around every object. It had been pretty, before it occurred to him what such weather would mean to him and his freedom. The rains were too heavy for pleasure flying or hunting; and, lacking those excuses, he’d been forced to attend more social events.
After he’d blundered into revealing his feelings for Ashayna, Lady Stonemantle had taken a special interest in him, clearly concluding that—wings, feathers, and magic aside—he was a candidate for a political marriage. On more than one occasion he had nearly run out of the room to escape Lady Stonemantle’s thinly-veiled questioning in order to keep the peace. Few in his acquaintance were as single-mindedly determined to shape a situation to a desired outcome as that small, tenacious woman. Inevitably she would continue their conversation at their next meeting. More disturbing was the certainty his Larnkin found it all very amusing. While Ashayna’s prickliness was part of her character, and he had come to find her little jibes and snide remarks endearing, he wasn’t so sure he could tolerate such a personality in his Larnkin.
He suspected Ashayna had somehow become aware of the situation and was angry at him for falling into her mother’s trap. There had been many awkward silences between them of late. As her bondmate, it would have been easy to read her thoughts, but that would only make her even angrier, so he did nothing and hoped she’d forgive him soon. He missed the heat growing between them, and he wanted his fiercely sweet scout back.
Shouting from the docks drew him from his worry. He scanned the harbor, seeking the cause for the disturbance. Grey water and grey mist blended into one solid monotone. His eyes narrowed. Across the distance he could make out a ship limping into port. As it sailed closer, he noticed its main mast was leaning to one side, its sails shredded, and a darker shadow marked the ship’s flank.
He turned from the sight of the dock workers securing the ship, and left the balcony to seek out Ashayna. It was still early and a quick probe along their bond confirmed she was asleep. He gave her a gentle push towards wakefulness and watched through her eyes as she bolted upright. She tangled in her blankets, her fingers groping for her sword hilt, or whatever weapon would come to hand, while she looked towards her door for an intruder.
“Ashayna, peace, I was trying to wake you.”
She groused at him until he told her about the damaged ship.
“What flag does it fly?” Her question was tense and angry.
“I do not recall the motif, though the colors were red, black, and gold.”
“A black falcon on a red field? Its feathers edged in golden rays of light?” Ashayna’s voice thickened with worry, all traces of sleep gone.
“I’ll look again.” He returned to the rainy balcony and sought the ship in the distance. A small trickle of power allowed him to see the flag’s tattered remains. It was indeed the black falcon of Ashayna’s description.
Before he could form a response, Ashayna burst into his rooms, still pulling on clothes and tying laces. She joined him on the balcony to look out over the city and farther to the port beyond. If her shoulders hunching in frustration was any indication, her eyes were not sharp enough to see what he saw.
“The flag, what does it mean?”
“We’re in trouble. It’s Lord-Master Trensler and his men. We received a message over a moon’s cycle ago; the Divine Speaker has set loose one of his scent hounds. I never dreamed he would make the journey in such good time.”
“It looks as if they nearly didn’t make the crossing at all.”
“If we had only been so lucky.”
“How bad is this?”
“You don’t care for my father’s way of thinking. Now imagine someone a hundred times stricter in what he believes, with the certainty he serves Divine will.” Ashayna laughed at his expression.
He was glad there were no mirrors within sight. Seems he still had something to learn from his mother when it came to hiding his thoughts. “Then he’ll not care for me or my kind. Will I be forced to draw my sword against this human?”
“No. His preferred weapons are words and he has turned lies and deceit into an art. Beware what you say, and say nothing at all of your people’s beliefs. Lord-Master Trensler will try to trick you into saying something damning. With tensions between the acolytes and the Crown being as they are, this could be all the Divine Speaker needs to justify a rebellion.”
“I’ll be very careful.” Sorntar reached out and tugged at a snag in Ashayna’s sleep mussed hair. She glowered at him. Flushing, he pulled his hand back. “You should go before someone finds you here.”
* * * *
He wasn’t summoned into General Stonemantle’s presence until mid-morning. When the call came, it didn’t surprise him to find it would be a private meeting with a few officials. Sorntar rubbed at the dull ache in his temples. Thankfully, his Larnkin-induced headache decreased in strength as the nervous guard led him to General Stonemantle’s private council chambers. Ashayna had arrived ahead of him, and relayed what she was able to gather from the room of closed-mouthed men. It was little enough.
One of the ever-present man servants opened the door at the guard’s polite knock. The murmur of voices died as Sorntar entered.
This silence was different than the one that had greeted his arrival at the masquerade many nights ago. Sorntar knew why. Never had humans seen him dressed in full body armor, with wing-guards strapped to his wings. He’d tucked his helm under one arm. Rune spells glowed upon its etched metal surface. He didn’t think he would be waging war against humans this day, but deemed it wise to look like he was willing to if they decided to act in a foolish manner.
For once Ashayna approved of the plan. A show of force was needed to impress Lord-Master Trensler. He respected strength, she’d said, and it was better to dissuade him from thoughts of conquest from the very beginning.
Focusing on the others in the room with him, Sorntar found three men with whom he was not familiar. One, older than the others, bore himself with a stern dignity tempered with an indulgent smile. He would have struck Sorntar as the most charismatic one in the room, if it wasn’t for the dark emotion lurking in his eyes when he studied Ashayna. Sorntar stopped six paces away from the seated humans. The stranger—Sorntar assumed this human was Lord-Master Trensler—regarded him in a studying way.
Whatever the human saw must have pleased him more than looking upon Ashayna, for Trensler stood and bowed. “I am honored to meet one of the other races who share this land, and doubly blessed to meet one of royalty. Never did I dream to meet one of your peop
le when my ship limped into shore this morning, but here we find ourselves by Divine Will.”
While General Stonemantle made introductions, Sorntar studied Trensler. He was tall for a human, as tall as Ashayna, if of a slighter build. Sorntar didn’t doubt Trensler would be quick to use his frail-looking appearance to better his ends, but it was the bitter-scented magic humming around the human that concerned him. Sorntar sent a tendril of magic towards Ashayna, but the power dissipated almost at once. A chill descended on him. He resisted the urge to rub his arms. The sensation passed as fast as it had come, but a twinge of worry still knotted in his stomach.
“Ashayna.” Sorntar poured more strength into his mental touch.
She glanced in his direction. “I can barely hear you,” she replied, her mental voice as clear as always. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m not sure. There is a magic user here. Can you feel anything?”
“No. I sense nothing, though Trensler has always set my nerves on edge.”
“Perhaps it’s my Larnkin. We are still newly bonded and that is a strange time.”
A throat being cleared drew Sorntar’s attention back to the roomful of humans.
“You speak for your mother, who is your ruling queen?” Although Lord-Master Trensler spoke in polite tones, it was impossible to miss his slight disdain on the word queen. “And your race wishes peace with us, if at all possible?”
“That is correct in part. Any final decisions will be made by my mother and the council. I will relay everything of value to them.” Sorntar shook free of the strange numbness that had taken hold of his Larnkin. His mind clear again, Sorntar countered with a question of his own. “What brings one of such high position, if I understand the hierarchy correctly, to our land at such dangerous times? When you first started out nothing was known of our intentions. Only recently has a temporary peace been forged. I do not want you to misunderstand my words or their meaning, but unless I am misinformed, you would have made a very valuable hostage.”
Betrayal's Price (In Deception's Shadow Book 1) Page 22
