Obsessed

by Cheyenne McCray

  I—we must all go now, she told Ranelle.

  “A vision?”

  Liana glanced up to see Ranelle’s frown, knowing her friend would expect an explanation. An explanation Liana was too embarrassed to give without working up her courage. How could she tell her friend how she had touched herself intimately—and that a Nordain had watched her?

  No, not a vision…more a feeling, Liana finally replied.

  “A feeling?” Ranelle’s jaw dropped, a look of protest on her face.

  Liana’s tresses vibrated and ice prickled her skin. She held up her hand to stop the rant she knew was forthcoming from her friend.

  Something is watching us, Halia. Pressure pounded Liana’s temples as she forced the thought to Ranelle. We best get inside. Now!

  * * * * *

  Aric ruffled his feathers and turned his gaze from the Tanzinite maid and the gishla. His grasp tightened on his perch upon the tavern’s roof as his eyes hunted the night sky for irani.

  Only black sky and pale stars.

  But his senses told him the Sorcerer’s winged beasts were close. Much too close.

  It isn’t time.

  Zanden must have learned of the plans to steal the Tanzinite maid from beneath the Sorcerer’s very nose. Which would certainly mean another traitor existed in the midst of Aric’s court.

  Or the bastard simply knows too well how I think.

  Aric spread his massive wings and soared from the tavern’s roof, his gaze searching the village to ensure his change would not be witnessed. Even as his claws touched the ground, he transformed into his Nordain human form. His feathers melded into the tunic, breeches and boots he needed to clothe himself. The sheathed dagger that had been strapped to his leg now rested at his hip, and the gem at its hilt glowed like a single red eye.

  Lord Ir. If Jalen, Aric’s Elvin brother-at-arms, did not arrive soon, all might be for naught. What could be keeping him?

  As Aric put his hand to the tavern door, he paused to whistle for Baethel. The stallion’s answering whinny came from behind the building, along with the wolf Toen’s soft growl. Aric whistled again, telling his companions of the change in plans. They would not wait until the tavern closed this eve.

  He would take her now.

  Aric’s cock hardened at the double meaning of his thought, and he gritted his teeth. He had no business thinking such things. His duty was to his people and to keep the prophecy from fulfillment.

  He shoved the tavern door open, smoke from the hearth, sour ale, and filth clouding his senses. Pausing a moment, he sought to catalogue each and every patron within the establishment before he moved forward and pushed his way through the crowd.

  The tavern was packed with men stuffing their guts with ale and meat, and feasting their eyes upon the tavern wenches, Liana and the gishla. Aric narrowed his gaze as he saw the brunette gishla nearly naked and dancing on a platform at the center of the room. Her large breasts swayed as she moved. Her dark nipples and the mound between her thighs were easily seen through the transparent material of her scrap of a dress.

  She was beautiful, yes, but he had the strong desire to yank the wench from the platform, wrap her in a dozen blankets and send her far from this hideous place. For some odd reason her near nakedness caused a knot to form in his gut.

  His scowl moved from the gishla to the crowd of leering men. He would like to rip the eyes from every man staring at the maid. Cheers rose around Aric as the gishla performed her erotic dance, and it was all he could do to control himself.

  What ailed him so?

  He forced his attention from the gishla to the corner of the tavern, where Liana stood as she told fortunes to one bastard after another. She had her palm to a man’s sweaty forehead, her eyes closed, her lips moving. Aric’s keen hearing caught the words she spoke, but they were not important—a simple fortune for the simple man before her.

  Aric shoved his way through the crowd, attempting to ignore a yellow-haired wench who rubbed her full breasts against him, her hardened nipples sliding across his bicep as he moved past.

  “Suck yer cock fer one ansi, love,” the wench crooned. “Spread me legs and fuck ye fer two.” She latched onto his arm and he caught the sour smell of ale on her breath as she pressed close. “Aye, fer you, I would fuck all night.”

  With little difficulty he shrugged off the woman, leaving her to ply her wares with some other fool.

  When Aric was mere feet from the Tanzinite maid, he paused to watch. Liana was petite, dwarfed by those who surrounded her, yet she stood straight, her shoulders back, as though she feared no man. She was obviously deep in trance, oblivious to the bastards who ogled her body as she told the man his fortune.

  Aric’s jaw tightened and he clenched his fists as fury built within him, like lava rising within Mount Taka. He would like naught more than to lay waste every bastard leering at Liana.

  A sheer garment draped her small form, similar to what the gishla wore. Liana may as well have been completely naked for all the good it did. The only thing protecting her from being ravaged by the heathens around her was the Sorcerer’s claim on her. Threat enough that no man would dare lay a finger on the Tanzinite maid.

  As Aric studied Liana, the noisy din of the tavern faded until all he could hear was her musical voice telling the man his fortune. He caught her scent that was somehow untainted by the smoke and ale stench of the tavern. She was so lovely, even more so than even the sensual Elvin women, for whom so many ballads of love were written.

  For days he had watched Liana, preparing for the time he would take her. He had enjoyed watching her—the way she moved, her quick smile for her friends, and her kindness to those around her. Liana was beauty and grace, like a rose among thorns.

  He swallowed, hard, as the image of Liana, naked in her bedchamber, filled his mind. Pebble-hard nipples, pert breasts, and hair the color of moonbeams caressing her rounded buttocks. Her fingers sliding into her folds, the smell of her sex. The look of ecstasy upon her face, and her sweet cry as she climaxed.

  His rigid cock ached with the need to bury himself inside her core. He visualized her smiling at him, her sea green eyes beckoning. Her soft voice telling him to come to her as she lay on her back, her thighs spread, and her nipples swollen from his mouth and hands. She would beg him to thrust his cock inside her. He would take her again and again—

  Liana’s eyes snapped open and she snatched her hand from the man’s forehead. She stumbled back against the tavern wall as her attention cut from the man to Aric. Her lips parted as her gaze locked with his.

  Blood rushed in his ears as the moment stretched between them. Her heart pounded loud enough for his sensitive hearing to discern, its rhythm matching his own. She pressed her hand between her breasts, as if to slow her ragged breathing, and her nipples peaked beneath her sheer clothing.

  And then the knowledge came to Aric as clear as if Liana had spoken.

  She wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  Lord Ir.

  Aric opened and closed his fists and hardened his jaw.

  No. He could not take the chance of being near Liana. He desired her too much, and he knew with certainty that she would welcome him into her body.

  Jalen would have to take responsibility for the Tanzinite maid.

  Aric pivoted. It took everything he had to walk away from Liana.

  Chapter Two

  Liana’s face burned as she watched the stranger force his way back through the crowded tavern and toward the door. The man was so tall she could see his raven head above all others.

  Even as he strode away, her heart continued to pound against her palm. She pressed her hand tighter to her chest, struggling to control her churning emotions. And she tried in vain to suppress the images that had burst into her mind, interrupting her trance.

  Images of the stranger naked and between her thighs, their sweat-slick skin sliding together. Him, thrusting his cock into her and taking her repeatedly as she screamed in ecstasy a
nd begged for more. She had felt his palms clenching her hips, his mouth on her nipples, his hot muscled body pressed against hers.

  A hand clasped Liana’s wrist, jerking her attention back to the smoky tavern. She shivered and blinked, and looked up into Nira’s frigid blue eyes.

  The barkeeper scowled. “Ye best be gettin’ back ta work, wench.”

  Liana glanced to the rough hand gripping her wrist and narrowed her eyes as her gaze returned to the foul woman. “Release me,” Liana commanded.

  Nira’s jaw dropped. “Dare ye—”

  A trance slammed into Liana hard and fast. Reflexively, her free hand shot up and she pressed her palm to Nira’s sweaty forehead.

  Everything around Liana vanished as her lids fluttered shut.

  No sight. No sound.

  And then a vision burst into her mind.

  They are coming.

  The Sorcerer’s winged beasts and his Nordain minions.

  The tavern—on fire. Men shouting. Women screaming.

  I—I cannot breathe. Smoke fills my lungs. Fire licks at my clothing.

  A man. Grabs me from behind. He’s taking me—

  “No!” The scream pierced the tavern’s clamor, and Liana’s eyelids flew open. Her body turned to ice as she realized the scream had come from her own throat.

  Nira dropped Liana’s wrist and staggered back, her blue eyes wide with terror. “Witch! Get outta me tavern afore I throw ye out.”

  Liana’s tresses vibrated as she stared at the sea of faces gaping at her in the now silent room.

  “It is too late,” she whispered.

  * * * * *

  At the same moment Aric heard Liana’s scream from inside the tavern, he caught the sound of flapping wings. Powerful wings, bearing down on the village of Fiorn.

  The irani. Coming to take Liana to the Sorcerer!

  “Gods, damn,” Aric shouted as his gaze raked the sky. Where is Jalen? And what of Renn?

  But it was not his brother Renn flying toward him. It was the irani. At least a dozen of the massive beasts.

  Fury pounding in his temples, Aric cursed again and plunged back into the tavern. Even as he shoved his way through the crowd, the beasts’ eerie shrieks rent the air.

  “The Sorcerer’s devils!” shouted a woman. “They be coming for us!”

  Pandemonium exploded throughout the tavern. Men yelled. Women screamed. Tables and chairs crashed to the floor.

  Hot bodies thrust past Aric, impeding his progress. It took all the strength he had to keep from being swept with the crowd back toward the door. He had to get to Liana. Had to spirit her away before the irani found her.

  He heard thumps on the tavern roof and knew at least half a dozen of the irani had landed on the thatch. Aric had only moments before the beasts would be inside.

  A bar wench jumped from a tabletop, in her haste knocking over a lantern with her hip. Flames shot across the rush and ale covered floor. Smoke gripped Aric’s lungs and blurred his vision. He saw the gishla being grabbed from her dancing table, and then the brunette vanished into the mob.

  Aric resisted the impulse to help the gishla. His eyes watered from the smoke as he searched for Liana. There. Over the crowd he could just make out her small form. She had a stool in her hands and was swinging it at a windowpane. At the same time she screamed, “Ranelle! Over here!”

  As the glass shattered, more irani shrieks echoed throughout the village. More pounding on the tavern roof.

  Smoke and fire engulfed the room. Timbers splintered and cracked as the irani ripped into the thatch above.

  Aric stumbled over a body, the poor soul trampled from the stampede of people. He did not dare stop. He had to reach Liana.

  He was within feet of her as she swung the stool at the window again, breaking away more of the glass. She reached toward the opening at the same moment an irani thrust its hideous head through, its jaws wide.

  Aric ripped his dagger from its sheath. Liana screamed as the irani clamped its beak around her wrist.

  The irani yanked Liana forward, dragging her half through the window. Smoke burned Aric’s eyes as he lunged forward and clasped Liana around her waist. At the same moment, Aric sliced the jagged edge of his dagger through the irani’s thin neck, severing the beast’s head from its body.

  Liana screamed and fought against Aric’s hold, obviously out of her mind with terror. Heat from the fire burned at his nape as he struggled to force the Tanzinite maid through the window. He coughed, near overcome from smoke as he shoved her over the sill, while at the same time trying not to tear her delicate skin on the remaining shards of glass.

  She cried out as she tumbled through the window and landed on the dead irani. Aric started out through the opening, whistling for Toen and Baethel as he climbed. Glass scraped his skin as he forced his huge frame through the window and then jumped to the ground.

  Liana scrambled to her feet, moonlight illuminating her face and sheer clothing. Even as smoke billowed from the window, she attempted to force her way past Aric, trying to get back into the tavern.

  “Are you daft, wench?” Aric grasped her around the waist. She kicked and screamed as he threw her over his shoulder. “You’ll get yourself killed!”

  “Ranelle!” Liana shouted. “I must help Ranelle!”

  The sound of pounding hooves alerted Aric to Baethel’s approach. The stallion rounded the corner of the burning tavern, galloping straight toward Aric and Liana. Toen howled as he loped at the horse’s heels.

  “If your friend is still in the tavern,” Aric said as he lifted Liana to toss her onto Baethel’s back. “She’s as good as dead now.”

  “No!” Liana shouted, her heart leaping into her throat. “Let me help her, you—you son of an irani!”

  Coarse hair chafed Liana’s skin as the man ignored her cries and flung her across a horse’s withers. Her thin gown hiked up to her waist, exposing her bare bottom, and she screamed with rage as she fought to free herself.

  The stranger easily pinned both her wrists to her backside with one hand as he mounted the horse. No matter how hard she fought him, she could not free her arms from her captor. Before she knew it, he had tied her wrists together with a strap, just above her naked hips.

  When she again shouted at him to let her go, the stranger slid a piece of cloth into her mouth and tied it behind her head, gagging her. Liana went limp, realizing it was useless to fight. She knew had to conserve her strength and use her wiles to escape.

  And escape she would.

  “Toen, search for Jalen and Renn,” the man commanded. From her upside down position, Liana could barely make out the form of a white wolf as the beast howled and then trotted into the crowd of screaming villagers. Heat from the fire warmed her skin and she could barely breathe from the smoke.

  The stranger kept Liana face down, her belly across his lap, her hands still tied behind her back. Her hair fell forward, covering her face, and her gown hiked even farther, almost up to her breasts. “To the Elves’ pool, Baethel,” the man growled.

  The horse bolted into the night, jolting Liana and rattling her thoughts. The stallion galloped so fast that soon the screams and shrieks from Fiorn faded, becoming fainter the further away they traveled. As she hung from the stranger’s lap, she saw only the moonlit blur of jensai blooms, brush, rocks, and ground through her curtain of hair.

  Cuts on her arms and legs burned, but she knew they were minor. Somehow when the stranger had thrown her out the window, he had kept her from being seriously injured.

  The stench of smoke still filled her nostrils and clung to her tresses. The smoke muffled each strand’s normally attune senses. It was as though a part of her was blindfolded, unable to clearly see, and she had to struggle to hold back the panic that threatened to overcome her.

  Liana tried to calm her thoughts as the horse sped from the seaside village toward the forest. Her belly rocked against the stranger’s hard waist and she wondered how she would escape such a powerful man.
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  Cool evening air caressed her naked buttocks as they traveled. Her breasts rubbed against the man’s breeches, her nipples tightening as hard as ansi stones. The intimate place between her thighs tingled as their bodies moved together on the horse.

  Ye, gods. The man had her bound and gagged, and was kidnapping her, and she still wanted him.

  If the hardness against her belly was any indication, the stranger wanted her, too.

  Not that she had had any doubt since she had seen the vision of the two of them back in the tavern. Maybe that was why he had kidnapped her.

  But why then had he walked away?

  Perhaps he meant to take her to the Sorcerer.

  No!

  Liana forced her mind away from such a hideous thought and focused on her friends. She was certain Tierra had escaped the fire since she was home ill in their cottage by the sea.

  But Ranelle…no matter what her own destiny was, Liana had to know Ranelle’s fate. If she concentrated, she should be able to discern whether or not her heart-sister still lived.

  Soul heavy with fear for her friend, Liana did her best to relax her body and slide into a trance. She blocked out everything but her search for the knowledge of what had happened to Ranelle. Searching for her halia’s lifeforce.

  Back, Liana’s own lifeforce traveled. Back to the chaos in Fiorn. Where people still shouted and screamed and cried. Not only was the tavern engulfed in fire, but the fishmonger’s and the butcher’s, too.

  Soon the whole village might be aflame.

  A twinge of empathy gripped Liana, sadness for any lives that might have been lost in such tragedy. But she felt no such compassion for the place where she had been abandoned at birth. Where all but Ranelle and Tierra, her heart-sisters, had treated her as an outsider from the time of her arrival. The whole of Fiorn could burn to the ground for all Liana cared, as long as her friends were safe.

  Circling above the village, massive winged beasts appeared to be searching for something…beasts like the one that had grabbed Liana’s wrist at the tavern.