by Jules River
Chapter 5
When Faye cracked Cenric over the head with the lamp it stunned him just long enough for her to scramble out from under him and sprint for the door. He was up shaking his head and coming after her when she opened the door and ran a few steps, running headlong into Dunstin, who had stepped out of Lyra’s bedroom to see what the commotion was about.
Dunstin instinctively grabbed Faye with one massive arm to keep her from falling, just as Cenric caught up to a stunned Faye. She stared with open mouth at Dunstin in the hall light. Faye could not believe how tall and well-built this stranger was who had caught her. Then Cenric took hold of her, turning her toward him and keeping her in his arms to prevent her from running again. Faye looked up to Cenric, a bit wild-eyed.
She scanned him from the top of his short, light brown hair, his strong arms, past his mouth-watering abs, and down to the bottom of his booted feet. He was tall, at least six-foot-three; his large, lean body had well-defined muscles everywhere. He seemed longer and leaner than his brothers. She also noticed several scars on his beautiful body, which served only to make him manlier and strangely enough more appealing. When her gaze made it back up to his face, to a strong jaw with a shadow of a beard and attractive angular features, and lips that were made for kissing, she could see he was all man.
Faye saw intelligent, expressive hazel eyes that were looking her over appreciatively, much as she had looked at him. He held her and enjoyed the feel and sight of her in the light. Then he picked her up and took her back to the bedroom. She struggled a little but she was too shocked by the fact the statues were real to do much fighting.
“Cover that lush body of yours in front of others; no one is to see it but me. You will not run from me again. You would not like the consequences, Faye.” Cenric lectured her, acting possessive as he roughly squeezed her for emphasis, while he was telling her what to do. “You need your rest, there is much to do tomorrow. Now sleep.” As he laid down with her on the bed, her back to his front and his arms wrapped around her, Faye struggled frantically trying to get up. Cenric shook her, held her tighter and growled, “Sleep.”
Faye finally found her voice, “Just what exactly do you think you are doing?! You’re not sleeping with me! Do you really think I could just go to sleep after . . . you, him . . . and you here!” she stuttered out, as she turned toward him and gestured at him in her bed. “First you, you accost me in my sleep, then I realized who you are, which one are you by the way? I mean that was all quite shocking! Now you expect to get in my bed, and you want me to sleep? Without answering any questions?” She paused, then said with finality, “I don't think so.”
Cenric turned her toward him, kissed her, trying to lull her into doing what he wanted. He was having a hard time staying awake suddenly. After a moment she jerked her head away, glaring at him furiously.
Cenric heaved a heavy sigh, “You and your sisters released us. It took some time to go from solid stone back to living flesh again, and it’s exhausting, Faye. I am Cenric. You know I’m Cenric. So go to sleep, woman, I can barely keep my eyes open now, I need rest. Your questions are exhausting.”
“Why do you think you’re going to sleep here? This castle has many bedrooms. You sleeping here is not going to happen.”
Cenric drowsily murmured, “I will not take the chance of losing you, you must be a part of ending this curse.” He sleepily mumbled, “Valuable.” Faye huffed, “I will not allow you to sleep with me in my bed. Now get up!”
She received no response, so she gave him a little shake, only to get a soft snore out of him. She took that opportunity to try to ease out of his grasp, but he tightened his hold. She studied his handsome face. Her hands were resting on his chest, and she couldn’t resist rubbing them over the hair lightly covering the expanse. His scent was masculine, soothing as well as exciting. His textures were fascinating to her, he was hard, smooth, and rough, all at the same time. She felt the comforting and relaxing beat of his heart, and started to close her eyes. She was surely in shock or dreaming or really drunk, she thought, as she drifted off to sleep.
***
Dunstin was about to lose his tight grip on his self-control with Lyra when he heard a bang and muffled noises. He grabbed Lyra and rushed to the door, taking a step into the hall, only to have Faye run straight into his chest. Lyra saw her sister was upset, and called out to her, “Faye, are you alright?” Faye did not even seem to hear or see her as she gaped up at Dunstin, then Cenric, and barely struggled when Cenric picked her up and carried her back to her room.
Dunstin suddenly became very tired.
He pulled Lyra back into the bedroom with her fussing and throwing insults at him the entire way. “What is that ancient throwback doing with my sister? Let me go, you hulk! You must be too simple to know what ‘let me go’ means.” The odd exhaustion was getting to him, and he had had enough of Lyra’s sharp tongue and useless struggling.
Dunstin shifted Lyra in his hold and grabbed her by her upper arms, forcing her up on her tiptoes, and harshly told her, “Behave, you will not make trouble, kona, or I will tie you to the bed. I must rest.” Lyra did not say anything else; he had scared her with his tone, rough handling, and the threat of restraining her. Being tied up was not an appealing thought to a moderate control freak. She was not sure if he would really hurt her, he certainly could, and he was huge and kind of scary when he wanted to be, like now. Dunstin had been rough with her already; she decided to tread carefully with him, at least for the moment.
Dunstin felt drained; it had taken much from him to become flesh again. His only thought at that moment was to hold Lyra while he took a much-needed rest. Then he laid down with Lyra, he on his side, her on her back as stiff as a board, with his leg thrown over both of hers and his arms around her, effectively trapping her.
He leaned in and gave her an open-mouth kiss on her neck, giving her a lick and a suck before he pulled away, causing her entire body to convulse at his touch. He chuckled as he remembered how she responded when her sisters had picked on her earlier, before he rested his head on the pillow, breathing deeply until sleep found him.
After she listened for a while to his deep breathing, Lyra tried to sneak away from him, but he only wrapped himself more securely around her. Lyra laid awake for a long time, affected by him, the kiss, worried about what he wanted from her, yet she enjoyed looking at him while he slept, and the way he felt wrapped around her.
She looked at his short, dark-brown hair, the thick arch of his matching eyebrows over what she thought she remembered to be blue-green eyes when they were open earlier. His cheekbones were well-defined, as were his strong jaw and chin. A slight lump in his nose indicated it had been broken in the past, and his lips were full when they were not drawn tight in a disapproving line. He had a small scar in the bottom center of his lower lip that went into the dimple in his chin. She wouldn’t mind tracing it with her tongue sometime.
She continued her study of him, even his thick neck was muscled with veins bulging. He was broader of shoulder than his brothers. Lyra had noticed when they were statues that Dunstin was massive, Warin was huge and stocky, and Cenric was large and leanly muscled.
Dunstin was the broadest of the brothers, with him and Warin about the same height at around six-foot-four or -five. Warin was a combination of both his brother’s body types, being nearly as broad as Dunstin and almost as lean as Cenric. They were all impressive, to be sure. Lyra could see one side of his extensive chest, shoulder and arm muscles. He was so wide across the shoulders, with arms that were usually seen only on dedicated body builders. She could not see his abs at the moment, but knew they were sculpted.
She looked further down to his thick, muscular thigh and calf, which was thrown over her own long, slim runner’s legs. She thought he had great masculine legs that fit his big body well. He was one finely put together male. Lyra eventually let herself loosen up, taking big breaths herself to unwind, and finally fell into a deep relaxing sleep.
> ***
Warin and Mira heard a thump. Mira tried to jump up to go check on her sisters, but Warin stood up with her, pulling her against his chest and wrapping her in his arms, “All is well Mira, you will stay.”
“I need to check on my sisters, let me go!” As she started to struggle with him, he became frustrated that she wanted to leave him when he had been so patient with her, and had not pushed her as he so wanted. He grabbed her jaw and forced her to meet his piercing, blue-eyed gaze, and in an unyielding tone commanded, “You will do as I say.” Then he kissed her forcefully.
Everything about him startled her, his kiss, the way he spoke to her, his huge hard body, his sheer size and strength, but she did respond to him. He plundered her mouth, he made sure she knew his taste, as he learned hers. He enveloped her in his male scent and strong embrace. Even as aroused as Warin was he started to feel extreme exhaustion, in a way he had never felt before.
Their lips separated, he turned them toward the bed, and laid down, pulling her with him, half on him; he twined his legs with hers, put her head on his chest, and wrapped his arms around her. “What do you think you’re doing?” Mira asked, starting to panic. He had been relatively gentle with her so far, and she did not want to aggravate him further at the moment, until she knew more of his temperament. He was so big and strong, she was not ready to risk him losing his temper with her yet, as she sensed he had a fierce one. She had seen it in his eyes.
He murmured, “Sleep, Mira.” And he started to fall into a deep sleep.
“You can’t sleep here,” Mira exclaimed, but he only pulled her more firmly into his grasp and sighed as he slept.
She wondered what she was doing, why she responded to him as she did, especially when he was acting like a commanding, well, what he was, an ancient warrior, from a time when men ruled and women did as they were told. She should expect no less. She knew there was no way for her to escape his hold. Mira was confused, tired and emotionally drained. She listened for any other commotion outside, when she heard only quiet she started listening to the secure sound of his beating heart and eventually joined him in sleep.
The last thing that went through Mira’s mind, before the long day drew to a close and unconsciousness set in, was that she and her sisters were going to have to set some boundaries with their warriors the next day.
Chapter 6
Lyra slowly awoke from a wonderfully restful sleep. She was so comfortable, she smiled and stretched before opening her eyes, only to freeze when she was squeezed tightly up against a very large, hard body that emitted an appreciative grumbling sound from deep in the chest. The sound was the sexiest thing she had ever heard, and it did funny things to her insides. Just then the previous night came flooding back to her. Her eyes flew open, she gave the Neanderthal holding her a hard jab in the stomach with her elbow, eliciting a satisfying grunt from him. But he surprised her by chuckling while nuzzling her neck and asked her, “Are you always so pleasant in the morning, Lyra?” as he gave her another full-body squeeze.
It was disconcerting how he said her name in such a possessive way. “Stop squeezing me, you brute, I have to pee. Let me up,” Lyra demanded in an angry tone. “You will get further with me, my Lyra, with sweetness.” She looked at him with big, innocent eyes, “Let me up . . . please,” and elbowed him in the stomach again. Dunstin just laughed, but let her get up. He watched her with lustful eyes as she walked around the bed to the en suite and slammed the door, clicking the lock loudly.
He could not keep the smile off of his face. He was going to enjoy the challenge Lyra seemed set on giving him. She was amazing, so strong in mind and spirit. Women from his time just did not have the frame of mind these women had. Her confidence and independence were very alluring.
In the bathroom, Lyra looked at herself in the mirror as she brushed her teeth. She was aggravated that she had a nice flush to her face from waking up with Dunstin. It really irked her that he affected her the way he did; if she was not careful she could fall for the big brute. He seemed to be able to handle her bad attitude, it even seemed to amuse him some.
After she had freshened up and brushed her long silky hair, Lyra gave herself a disgusted sound for taking extra care with her appearance. When she left the bathroom she glared at Dunstin all the way to the walk-in closet, again closing the door behind her. She quickly dressed in her comfy low-rise skinny jeans, a couple of layered lacy, fitted tanks and a pair of low-heeled beaded sandals.
Lyra came out of the closet at the same time Dunstin left the bathroom. They stared at each other for a moment. She noticed what he was wearing, and decided she would definitely be sending for some shirts and modern clothes for the warriors. It was too disturbing with them walking around in nothing but leather pants and boots, with straps of leather crossing their chests to hold their weapons. Dunstin started to move toward her, so she quickly spun around and went to the door. Before she could open it he pushed her up against it with his body, sliding her hair aside and put his lips against her neck, breathing in her intoxicating scent, “Good morning Lyra, you will stay near me unless I give you leave. Do you understand me?” He kept his lips on her neck, and when she did not answer him he softly said, “Or we won’t leave this room at all.” He began kissing, and nibbling her neck, and rubbed his big body against hers.
“Fine,” Lyra gritted out with clenched teeth, as she jerked her neck away from his tantalizing lips; she would have said whatever it took to make him stop, before she humiliated herself and let out a moan.
He had a hard time pulling away from her, she felt so good; he was certain he was affecting her, but he did pull away, since she had submitted to him as he wanted, even though it was the tiniest bit. He did not want to break her, only gentle her to his touch, and his alone. He could tell he frightened her at times, and he would use that when and if he needed to keep her in line.
They walked out into the hall, his hand at the small of her back, “I must have sustenance. You will feed me, kona.” “Like so much hell! I might make you something to eat, but I will NOT feed you!” Being that this conversation was taking place before her first cup of coffee, and looking for any reason to be angry at him, Lyra purposely misunderstood him.
“Oh, Lyra, one day you will want to feed me,” Dunstin said with a smirk while caressing her lower back. Lyra just glared at him and increased her pace to the kitchen; she needed to get away from his unnerving touches. But Dunstin had no problem keeping up with her.
The kitchen was large, fitted with modern equipment but decorated in keeping with the age of the castle. There were two restaurant-quality gas ranges, two sets of double ovens, and the original man-height hearth that was large enough to roast half a steer. It had commercial refrigerators that looked like built-in cabinets and a huge rectangular counter-height table for an island, flanked by eight stools for comfortable seating. None of the appliances looked modern, and a free-standing butcher block with its heavily used surface showed vestiges of hundreds of years of knife cuts. It was a warm and friendly space, but a hard-working one as well.
When they walked into the kitchen, the chef and his assistant fell silent and stared at the warrior standing beside Lyra, appearing intimidated by his size and stern visage. She kindly told them both to take the morning off, and they hurried out of the kitchen. Lyra went straight to the coffeemaker and poured cups of coffee for both of them, then she started getting out steaks, eggs, fruit, and ingredients to make blueberry pancakes and fried potatoes. She liked to cook, even if it was for the Neanderthal.
***
Mira was startled from a peaceful sleep when she felt smooth, firm lips pressed gently to hers; she opened her eyes to Warin staring down at her. She was stunned by his male beauty in the morning light. She still could hardly believe he was here in the flesh. Warin smiled warmly, “Good morning, did you sleep well?” His morning voice slid through her, making her insides flutter so, that she took a moment to answer. Finally she murmured haughtily, yet politely
, “Yes, thank you. Would you mind moving? I would like to freshen up.”
Warin slowly leaned back away from her and sat up with his back against the headboard, watching her intently. Mira kept her distrustful gaze on him as she walked into the bathroom, closed the door, locked it, and leaned against it. She closed her eyes and thought to herself, What have we gotten ourselves into? These men are not like modern men; they are not tame or docile. I have a feeling they cannot be easily lead like most men we have met. How are we to handle them? Maybe we should put our feet down right away and set boundaries, but politely. Warin would not respond to outright orders from women. Yes, that is what we will do. I will have to let Faye and Lyra know immediately. Feeling better now that she had some sort of a plan, she quickly got ready for the day.
When she walked out of the bathroom, Warin was sitting on the edge of the bed, and she told him in an authoritative tone, “You can freshen up in the bathroom. I am going to get dressed in the closet, then I would be happy to get you something to eat; I’m sure you must be hungry. Now, if you will excuse me,” indicating the other closed door in the room, she walked to it and opened the door. He quickly took her arm, looked inside to make sure it had no other exits, then nodded and went into the bathroom only because it pleased him to do so.
After she was dressed, she came out wearing fitted slacks, a sleeveless mock turtleneck, and kitten-heeled sandals. Warin was waiting for her, chest bared with those damn tight leather pants and boots. If only she had a shirt that would fit him, so she would not feel the need to eat him with her eyes and touch that chiseled chest every time she glanced in his direction.
