by Olivia March
He could see Annabelle considering a rebellion, so he stood and approached the bath. To his amusement, she shrank down even further, like he couldn’t see all her beautiful curves below the waterline. If Annabelle hadn’t run to Gwen upon their arrival, Nefarion could even now be laying her across the bed and plunging inside her. Instead, for now anyway, he had to play courtier instead of conqueror. He held up the soft bathing towel for her and beckoned her to get out. And after another moment of resistance she did as he bid. Smart girl. He’d have been only too happy to reach in and grab some of that luscious skin while pulling her out himself.
He wrapped her up in the towel, taking the time to pat her dry in several key places. Her gasps were music to his ears, but he didn’t press his advantage. There’d come a time when he’d lick every stray droplet of water from her skin, but it wasn’t today. Instead he handed her clean clothing that Verdun had supplied. They were soft pants and a softer shirt, with some of the strange looking undergarments that human females wore. Verdun had even supplied some soft, thick socks for his mate’s cold feet, and Nefarion reluctantly acknowledged that he owed the Keeper some words of thanks for looking after his mate’s needs so well. He wasn’t one for giving thanks, but in this case, he’d stoop to that level.
Once his mate was dressed, a feat she achieved in record time, Nefarion led her to the dining table and took the opportunity to brush out her long, bright hair. Annabelle’s hair was a beautiful golden shade that reminded him of summer sunlight. Shadow Keepers had more of a fondness for the light of the moon, but Nefarion was entranced by the bright warmth of his mate’s hair. He hoped their children inherited the shade, even if having dark hair would be more beneficial to their abilities. As he combed Annabelle’s hair, Nefarion got a vision in his mind of a tiny little girl with golden hair and light green eyes, and his heart clenched hard.
Betimes a Shadow Keeper could have visions that were a foretelling of an event to come. Such a delicate child would have no place in his world. But if she came to be, he would love and protect her with his last breath, as he would her mother. And he’d get a troop of sons on Annabelle as well, who would look after their sister. If…if and if. First, he had to secure his mate, ensure her protection, and get her agreement to be his. He finished brushing out her hair and called his men into the tent. Then he pulled Annabelle to stand next to him as his men aligned themselves before him.
“Annabelle, allow me to introduce your new guard. They’ve been sent from the palace at Balruin to protect you. You won’t remember all their names at first, I’m sure, but you will recognize the black armor that they wear. Only Balruin Keepers wear this armor, so it will identify them for you.”
Nefarion rattled off their names, pleased that Annabelle seemed composed. He knew his men were an intimidating lot, but she didn’t show any outward discomfort aside from standing very close to him. She greeted them all by name and kept her eyes on theirs, even though he could feel her need to back away from so many virile specimens sharing the enclosed space of the tent with her. His men, on the other hand, just looked bemused.
“My prince, this is the mate you’ve chosen? She seems so frail,” Edan said in their native tongue. The others nodded slightly, staring his mate up and down. He didn’t appreciate the observation, but he couldn’t blame them for proffering it. Annabelle was slight, and innocent, frail in all regards except in spirit. Her spirit he would guard himself, but he needed his men on board for guarding the rest of her.
“Her body is frail in the way of her species men, but her will is strong. The prince of the Light Keepers has taken a human mate as well, and she already swells with his child. Human females have much to offer, believe that. I’ve taken Annabelle to my bed once already, but I don’t have her permission to mate her fully. I have to work to gain her consent, and while I do that, and while we campaign against the Scourge here on Earth, I need you to guard my treasure with your lives.”
His men nodded, some still looking skeptical, but they all took him at his word and he knew they would lay down their lives to protect his mate. These dozen Keepers had been with him through countless battles, and in this they wouldn’t let him down. He gestured to them to sit around the table and he seated Annabelle before taking the chair to her right. An array of fresh foods had been delivered for them all to dine on, and Nefarion made sure Annabelle had a full plate of options before he and his men served themselves.
“We will speak the English language when my mate is present from here on out,” Nefarion sent through mind link. “I don’t want her to feel excluded, if there’s anything you want to keep private say it through your links, otherwise speak words she will know.” Nefarion waited for their subtle nods of acknowledgement before he turned to his mate.
“Commander Helion will be engaging the enemy for most of the day tomorrow, Annabelle. Now that I’ve returned successful from my mission, I will be joining my unit for these daytime forays. While I’m gone, these Keepers will be on a rotating schedule seeing to your protection.”
“Shouldn’t some of them go with you to see to your protection? I’m in the middle of a Keeper army camp, surely just one or two of them would be fine.”
Annabelle looked around, bemused, when Nefarion’s men displayed various degrees of amusement. Nefarion himself had a hard time not chuckling at Annabelle’s assertion that he needed to keep his men close for protection. He was a dangerous man, and he was going into battle with equally dangerous men, even if they weren’t Shadow Keepers. It would be nice to have his own men at his back, but he wouldn’t take any chances with Annabelle’s safety.
“I assure you, mate, I can well look after myself. These Keepers are here for you and you alone. And by the end of the day I will be back to proceed with courtship rituals with you.”
Annabelle’s face suffused with color at his words, clearly embarrassed. Nefarion liked the color that climbed over her face, and wished he could see it down her whole body. Memories of her breasts heaving and flushed, her nipples turgid and wet from his tongue, would haunt his every moment until he could get her underneath him again. Which wouldn’t happen until Helion called off his dog, damn him.
And speak of the devil, Tohran was outside the tent flap like the thought of his name conjured the beast. All the men around the table tensed a little, sensing that Tohran was there. They continued to eat and converse easily, but the knowledge that a very dangerous Keeper indeed was waiting outside the tent had them all preparing for a confrontation nonetheless.
“You may enter, Tohran,” Nefarion called out, not bothering to tell the Keeper he was welcome in the tent. Because he wasn’t, not one bit.
But Tohran entered anyway, a towering giant with gleaming amber eyes and verdant green hair. He wore the golden armor that most Keepers preferred, and was armed to the nines. His expression was attempting to mimic a stone slab, and he seemed entirely unconcerned about facing more than a dozen Shadow Keepers in one room, the fool. He was strong, but not strong enough to take on him alone, much less him and a dozen of his best. But his lack of fear was again a symptom of his lack of interest in continuing his life, poor bastard.
“Annabelle, may I present to you Tohran, of the clan Coillen. Helion has chosen Tohran to be your bodyguard during our courtship rituals. He will be your constant shadow. Tohran will sleep, eat, and abide wherever you are, until you finally decide I am a worthy mate.”
And if it took Annabelle too long to make her decision, Nefarion would dispatch Tohran and take matters into his own hands, fair means or foul. No matter what Helion and his little mate thought, Nefarion had no intention of giving Annabelle up. He would conquer her fears and make her his princess, or die trying.
* * * *
Annabelle couldn’t seem to close her mouth all the way. And it wasn’t because this Tohran was obscenely hot. He was, just like every other Keeper currently sitting around the table. Keepers in general seemed to be possessed of such remarkable good looks that she could hardly beli
eve they were real. Meeting the dozen, yes dozen, guards that Nefarion intended to surround her with was bad enough. She could hardly manage a single word to any of them during dinner, so intimidated was she. Annabelle had tried very hard to remember all their names, but it’d been hard enough to maintain eye contact and not pee her pants. Nefarion was surrounding her with bloodthirsty cutthroats, she could feel it. With all their black armor, intense expressions, and bristling weapons, she couldn’t believe that incontinence was beyond anyone stuck in a room with them.
But this new guy…Tohran…Commander Helion really thought that guy was the one to be her bodyguard? He had green hair! He was as tall as the Shadow Keeper gang, but he wore shiny golden armor like a fairy-tale knight. It also appeared that he had half the weapons that the others around the table had strapped to their bodies. And his face…it was pretty! His eyelashes were longer than hers, and they framed beautiful amber-colored eyes. Helion had really dropped the ball on this one. She didn’t need a pretty knight watching after her, not with someone like Nefarion trying to get her in the sack. She needed someone as tough and ruthless as the Keeper she needed protection from.
Tohran came forward when Nefarion beckoned him, and Annabelle stood to shake his hand. His hand dwarfed hers and was very callused, which was a small comfort. He at least had some familiarity with his weapons if he had such callused hands, surely.
“Annabelle, the pleasure is mine. This will be a bit of an unusual arrangement, but you must tell me if I make you uncomfortable at any time, and I will make adjustments. And should you desire more or less of Prince Nefarion’s company, I will make it so.”
“If I want more time with Annabelle and you dead, Keeper of the Forest, I will make it so,” Nefarion growled, not bothering to look up from his food when he made that rude announcement. Annabelle glared at him, but he didn’t look at her either.
“Uh, thank you Tohran,” she said, smiling. She imagined it probably looked more like a grimace, but it was the best she could do. “Are you hungry? We have lots of food here.”
Tohran nodded his head, and took the chair to Annabelle’s immediate left. Nefarion was on her right, with all his men spread out before her. Annabelle imagined that this is what a mouse dropped in a pit of vipers felt like; scared, wary, and about to get eaten. Well, to be fair, the only one likely to attack her, and not with violence on his mind, was Nefarion. But the aggression she was sensing between the Shadow Keepers and Tohran was alarming. All the eyes around the table were focused on Annabelle’s new bodyguard, like his existence was an actual affront to them.
To his credit, Tohran really didn’t seem to give a damn. He loaded up his plate several times and ate like thirteen pairs of eyes glaring daggers at him didn’t affect his digestion at all.
“So, Tohran, I heard Nefarion call you a Keeper of the Forest. What does that mean exactly?” Annabelle posed the question just to break the awkward silence, but she was also interested in the answer. Helion was a Light Keeper, Nefarion was a Shadow Keeper, and now here was a Forest Keeper. The designations they had were endlessly fascinating.
“Forest Keepers have an affinity with nature. Some Forest Keepers abilities lean towards close relationships with animals, while others towards flowers and trees. I am the latter.”
Annabelle eyeballed him, incredulous that Helion would assign a gardener to protect her from Nefarion being too forceful. Nefarion could kill, and had done in her sight, with just the flick of one shadow tendril. And there were twelve more at the table with similar abilities. And Helion had sent her a gardener.
“Don’t look so concerned, Annabelle,” Nefarion drawled lazily, easing back in his chair to regard her fully. “It’s true that Tohran has an affinity for woodworking. He made that bed for you over there in fact. His talent with woods is much coveted on our world. But don’t let his prettiness fool you; that Keeper to your left is a killer, and a very good one.”
Annabelle gaped at Nefarion, then turned that expression on Tohran. Both men just looked back at her impassively, so much so that she didn’t know whether to chide Nefarion for calling her bodyguard a killer, or feel relief that Tohran could hold his own in this company. She didn’t want him to get hurt, she just wanted to keep Nefarion at arms-length until she could convince him that she wasn’t the princess type. Annabelle supposed it was a good thing that Tohran was more capable than his looks seemed to imply. She didn’t need a fairytale prince, she needed someone who could go toe to toe with Nefarion and come out alive.
“Annabelle, I’m sure you’re quite tired from the day. If you want to get ready for bed, I need to have a quick word with my men and Tohran outside, and I’ll be back to rest with you.”
Annabelle stuttered at that, but Nefarion didn’t stick around to hear her protests. He simply got up and everyone followed behind him out of the tent. She stared after him for a minute, but in the end decided to shelve her issue for now. Tohran was here to make sure Nefarion didn’t seduce her into agreeing to be his wife. So, what harm could there be in platonically sharing a bed? There was only one in the room after all. And after the rough week she’d had, hell the rough few months, having someone hold her through the night was a comforting prospect. She couldn’t be his wife, but she could take comfort from his presence while she still could. Because when she finally convinced him that she wouldn’t marry him, he’d move on, and she would mourn that loss forever.
Chapter 18
Nefarion walked his men and Tohran just a few feet beyond his tent, not willing to leave Annabelle unprotected but also needing a little privacy for this talk. He wanted Annabelle to feel safe in this camp, and with Tohran and a dozen of his men she was as safe as she could be anywhere except back in Balruin. She might even be safer now than she would be in his palace since many would likely be opposed to their marriage. But here in this camp there was also a traitor who still had not been identified, and that meant either Nefarion or one of his men would be stuck to Annabelle like glue until that traitor was found.
“Your mate is charming, Nefarion. Seems a little naïve though. And hardly the type of female I’d have thought would appeal to the Prince of Shadows.”
Nefarion eyed Tohran in displeasure. He was already inclined to dislike the Forest Keeper, but the more he opened his mouth, the more Nefarion was likely to shove one of his shadow tendrils down the bothersome troll’s throat.
“My mate is exactly as she ought to be. But she is human, and we do have a traitor in this camp. My men have a rotating schedule for her protection, but you, Tohran, I am not that familiar with. If you take breaks away from watching my mate, I need to know so we can add more protection from my men. I will rest with her each night when I return from campaigning, and I won’t allow your interference in that either. Helion has commanded that I woo my mate, and I intend to do so, in a way I see fit. Try to interfere, and you will die.”
Tohran took his time answering. He stared steadily into Nefarion’s eyes, but whatever he found there didn’t affect his own expression one way or another. Then he turned and looked around the camp, making a thorough sweep of it before turning his attention back to Nefarion.
“You’re welcome to try killing me. I’ll commend you from the grave if you succeed. But Commander Helion was very explicit in his instructions. You may lie with your mate, but not in your mate. At least not until you have her permission to do so. So, do what you wish in your courting. I’m sure Shadow Keepers have a plethora of interesting courtship rituals. But I won’t allow you to coerce Annabelle into sex. She will tell me explicitly that she wants to lie with you, or it won’t happen.”
Yes, Tohran would most likely have to die soon. Like he would ever take Annabelle without her consent. She’d asked him to take her to bed last time, it wasn’t something he’d coerced her into. And before he entered her again she’d have to beg him for it. Beg, and agree to be his mate, his wife, his princess. And then he’d spend the next twenty-four hours inside her, bedamned to Helion and the Scourge a
nd whoever else wanted his attention. But only after he got Nathal to remove that damned birth control device.
“One day I probably will kill you. But until then, an extra pair of eyes on my mate will not go amiss. I don’t want the bastard traitor in this camp to get anywhere near my mate. He’s already made an attempt on Lady Gwen’s life, and I wouldn’t put it past him to go for mine. Any word on Mithrain? If he can identify the scum, we can make him suffer before putting him in the ground.”
“Mithrain has not regained consciousness. Nathal is working hard but hasn’t managed to revive him for more than a moment. But when he does awaken, if he can identify the traitor, the suffering we will inflict on that betrayer will make him rue the day he ever allied with Scourge. He won’t touch one hair on your mate, or Helion’s.”
Nefarion nodded, and discussed more logistics with his men. Helion intended to go far afield in the morning to engage the Scourge, and he needed to know that Annabelle was covered. He also had to consider what Helion had said and think about some wooing gestures he could prepare for his return. Tonight, he’d hold her close and let her feel his body, his heat. He wanted her to feel the strength of his arms, determined to hold her to him despite her fears. And during the day, when he was off fighting, he’d have his men educate her about Balruin and Arthaneas. He’d reinforce those lessons upon his return every night, until Annabelle gathered some confidence about dealing with life as his princess.
Because that is what her life was to be. All these maneuvers were just a formality for Nefarion. He wouldn’t be leaving this planet without Annabelle at his side. If this wooing ritual made her feel better about it, then he was willing to engage in them. But in the end, she’d be coming with him, and no one would stand in his way. Not Helion, nor Gwen, not Tohran or even Annabelle herself. She had more courage than she gave herself credit for, but he believed in her, and he believed in them.
