by Meara Platt
“Melody,” he whispered, placing his hand over her mouth to muffle her cry as he shook her awake. It was nearing daybreak, and this night’s battle between Fae and demons had been the fiercest in his memory. “I need you. It’s me. Don’t be frightened.”
She awoke with a start and quickly wiped the sleep from her eyes. “Cadeyrn? Let me see you! Are you hurt?”
“No, I’ll be fine.” He thought it best not to mention that his back and neck were badly slashed, a result of those sharp, demon talons once again hitting their mark with painful accuracy. Ygraine would heal him … as soon as Melody healed Ygraine.
“Oh, Cadeyrn. Thank goodness.” She yawned and scrambled to sit up, taking a moment to clear the cobwebs from her head and once again forgetting to address him properly. It seemed of little importance now. “I had the oddest dream. I’m sure it was just a dream, yet it felt so real. I thought a de—”
“We almost lost the battle tonight.”
She gasped. “Oh, dear! What happened?”
“It’s Ygraine, she’s badly injured.” He ran a hand raggedly through his hair, ignoring the sharp jolt of pain that ran up his arm in response to the simple motion. “My council and I tried to revive her, but couldn’t. I’m hoping you will succeed where we’ve failed.”
Melody shook her head again. “I don’t know why you insist on looking to me as your—”
“Savior? Come with me, Melody. All I ask is that you try. There isn’t much time. She’ll die if you don’t help her.”
Melody made no further protest. She climbed out of bed, hastily donned the robe that lay across the footboard, and reached under the bed and withdrew a pair of walking shoes. “I’m ready,” she said, putting them on. “Where is she?”
“St. Lodore’s. Wait, this way will be faster.” He drew her into his arms, preparing to take her through the portal. She didn’t hesitate, casting him a curt nod as she stood on tiptoes and placed her arms around his neck. “Hold tight,” he reminded, for traveling between worlds was still new to Melody and quite dangerous.
She sighed. “A most unusual way to travel. I could get used to this.”
So could I. Her lips were temptingly close to his and he felt her sweet breath against his cheek, her soft body nestled against his taut loins. So could I!
That she trusted him to keep her safe pleased him.
That she felt sweet and soft to him was most disturbing, for he had yet to tame these new sensations that grew stronger with each encounter. He was used to fighting demons, had done it for thousands of years and always come out the victor. The battles were harder now that he had met Melody. His growing need for her was a dangerous distraction. He had to conquer this weakness before it conquered him. “Close your eyes,” he warned, about to draw her through the vastness of the now open portal.
Instead of obeying, she pushed out of his grasp and uncurled her hands from his wounded neck. “What’s this?” She raised her hands in accusation, revealing streaks of blood dripping between her fingers. “Your Majesty, you’re hurt! You said you were fine, but you’re bleeding!”
She tried to inspect the slashes on his neck. “Let me—”
“No! Tend to Ygraine first. And don’t let go of me again until I tell you it’s safe to do so,” he said more angrily than intended, but the foolishly impulsive act might have killed her. “By the Stone of Draloch! Have you no sense?”
“And what of you? I saw that you were injured and couldn’t help myself. I was worried about you. Someone has to think of your well-being, for you obviously don’t.” Apparently deciding it was apology enough, she circled her arms around his neck once more and then closed her eyes and burrowed her cheek against his chest. She gave no further thought to the mayhem she had almost caused by pulling away from him just as the portal opened. “I’m ready now.”
He cleared his throat, struggling to tame the rampant beating of his heart. He felt hot … was it the effect of his unsettled anger? Or her sweet nearness? These odd sensations would pass, he knew. They had to, for he did not like this new sensation of losing control.
With Melody creating no further incident, they emerged through the portal at St. Lodore’s altar. She clutched him suddenly, her knees buckling as she fell against him. “Goodness! I feel so dizzy.”
“It happens when traveling through portals. You’ll get used to it.”
She cast him a doubtful look, but quickly managed to right herself. “Where’s Ygraine?”
“Over here, behind the altar.” He motioned for his council to step away from the ancient who lay seemingly lifeless on the ground, her long, white hair splayed across the cold stone floor. Her dark robe was covered in oozing patches of blood that made it cling to her frail body. Most of it was green, demon blood, but there was enough Fae blood mixed in to raise alarm.
“Why did you bring her?” Edain asked, frowning.
Cadeyrn nudged her out of the way. “Be quiet, Edain. Move back and allow Melody to work.”
“Did Ygraine ask for this human to attend her? Why won’t Ygraine let me touch her?”
“I don’t know. You can ask her later.” He dismissed Edain and turned to kneel beside his trusted counselor. However, Edain’s words troubled him. All in the council knew Edain was a competent healer. Healing was one of her gifts along with her beauty. So why had Ygraine refused to let her close? Did the ancient have more confidence in Melody than in her own kind? “Ygraine, I’ve brought Melody. What must she do?”
Melody took a small breath and let it out as she knelt beside him and took hold of Ygraine’s hand. “I’ll do whatever I can. But you must guide me, Ygraine. I haven’t the power to do this on my own.”
The old faerie’s eyes fluttered open and she smiled at her. “It does my heart good to see you beside our king. This is where you belong. I will soon pass on—”
“Not yet, Ygraine,” Cadeyrn said with authority. “You cannot die. Tell Melody what she must do to heal you. Tell her. I command you. You’re too important to sacrifice.”
“Very well, Your Majesty,” she responded, her voice weak and hardly audible. “I shall obey.”
“As you always have, my good and faithful counselor.” He stepped back to allow Melody to work, joining his council to watch the slip of a girl try to accomplish feats well beyond the ability of humans. Was it possible? The Draloch Prophecy had existed for thousands of years, longer than he could remember. That he should be the Fae king described within … that Melody should be the savior queen of legend … it seemed impossible.
Yet, as he watched Melody place her small hands on Ygraine’s body, and saw the glow of determination in Melody’s eyes, he knew this girl was something special. A collective gasp arose from those around him when her glow, at first a mere glimmer in her eyes, began to steadily brighten and spread in a protective circle around her, enshrouding Ygraine in its aura as well.
“By the Stone of Draloch,” Fiergrin said in a whisper. “I’ve never beheld such a sight.”
Cadeyrn nodded. “She does not yet understand her power.”
“It cannot be,” Edain insisted. “This is a trick.”
In the next moment, Melody’s light intensified with such blinding force that all who looked upon it had to avert their eyes. As Cadeyrn turned away he grabbed Edain, who had not moved far from his side. “Do you still doubt?”
Edain nodded. “It is not for her to save our people. The Draloch Prophecy is a lie.”
Cadeyrn knew she had been acting oddly of late. It worried him that she was resentful of Melody. When had she acquired this human trait? More important, how had she acquired it? He did not like to think that any of his counselors had been acting without his knowledge or permission. “Edain, we must speak privately.”
She bowed her head, usually a sign of respect, but he’d caught the glint of insolence in her eyes. “I’m available to you always, Your Majesty. ’Tis you who have been so preoccupied with that human lately you pay me no notice.”
“That
human?” he said with an arch of his eyebrow, noting this second disdainful reference to Melody. “If you do not believe she is our savior queen—”
“I don’t.”
“Then you ought to have spoken out when given the chance. You’re a member of my council. You know I am always available to listen to your concerns.”
“My concerns no longer seem to matter to you.”
“You’re wrong, Edain. Why are you so troubled? These expressions I see in your eyes and the curl of your lips are too much like human expressions. How did you acquire them?”
She laughed and shook her head. “Ask Ygraine, your devoted healer.”
He frowned. “Ygraine? What has she—”
An unearthly shriek suddenly echoed through the chapel. Cadeyrn reached for his sword and whirled to stand in front of Melody and Ygraine, his first thought to protect them. He turned at the second shriek, realizing the noise sprang from Melody’s throat. What was happening to her? He couldn’t tell, for she was still shrouded in a brilliant golden aura.
He sheathed his sword, and on instinct reached into the circle of light to grab Melody and draw her away from Ygraine. Mercy! Had something gone wrong? Was Ygraine dead? He must have been mad to ask this of Melody, to insist she wield powers she’d never used before. He had demanded too much, expecting her to heal an ancient Fae, the last of their kind to know the human ways. Had this clash of human and Fae destroyed both women? “Fiergrin! Attend to Ygraine.”
“At once,” Fiergrin said as he, Edain, and the rest of his council rushed to her side and all began to murmur a healing chant at once. However, their incantations quickly died down. “Your Majesty, she’s well! The Melody has healed her.”
But at what cost? Cadeyrn gazed at Melody, who now lay collapsed in his arms. Her skin was deathly pale and she struggled for each breath. He cursed the Prophecy, cursed Lord Brihann and his Dragon Lords … cursed himself for drawing this innocent into a desperate battle for salvation of the Fae.
Ygraine hurried to his side. “Let me see her. Oh, dear! This is my fault. I must have drained her spirit. I didn’t mean to, but she seemed so strong. I’ve never felt such power in a human before. Rarely seen it, even among our most enlightened Fae. I ought to have known better.”
“Fix it, Ygraine. You know you must.”
“Set her down over here, where I may better attend her.”
Cadeyrn followed Ygraine’s instructions, settling Melody on one of the nearby pews. He drew back but remained close by, knowing he could do little to help and cursing that lack in him, for he did not have Ygraine’s extraordinary healing abilities. Kings were expected to fight and lead, never to be good healers.
Ygraine proceeded to lay her hands on Melody’s chest and began one of her incantations, an unusual one he’d never heard before. Cadeyrn did not question it, for the melodic chant seemed to calm Melody’s labored breaths. “She isn’t as badly injured as she appears,” Ygraine said upon ending her ministrations.
“Is she faking?” Edain asked, moving to stand beside Cadeyrn.
Ygraine scowled at her, as did the rest of the council. “Of course not. Why do you suggest such a thing? Your Majesty,” she said, now turning away from Edain to address him, “you may take The Melody back to her chamber. She’ll open her eyes in a few moments and remember nothing of this incident. She’ll be weak, though. Perhaps suffer from a touch of fever, but it shouldn’t be very high and ought to pass quickly.”
“Are you certain?”
Ygraine shook her head and cast him an assuring smile. “The girl will have no lasting ill effects. None at all. However, I see that the demons have marked you badly. Let me tend to you while she sleeps.”
There was something odd in her smile that set Cadeyrn on edge, but he dismissed the concern. Ygraine was an ancient. She’d raised him, protected him. She was his healer. Still, there was something not right. Or was he off his mark today, first questioning Edain and now Ygraine?
He said nothing as Ygraine ordered him to remove his shirt and began to recite one of the more familiar healing incantations. He’d heard it too often lately, for the demons were becoming more accurate in their strikes. Each night now, he sought the mercy of his healers to treat his battle wounds.
His scars were gone by the end of the incantation, but the pain lingered. He wanted to ask Melody to ease the last of his discomfort as she had last night, but decided against it.
The girl had been through enough this evening.
He wouldn’t request it of her.
No matter how dearly he longed for her touch.
Chapter Eight
Melody awoke the following morning with a splitting headache. She felt wretched and had little strength to sit up or open her eyes. The best she could manage was putting a hand to her forehead and moaning.
“Lie still,” Cadeyrn said in his familiar voice of authority, coming to her side when she moaned again and attempted to rise. “Ygraine assures me that you’ll be all right, though it’s taking a bit longer than expected.” He tucked the covers about her lightly trembling body and then ran his hands up and down her shoulders, obviously imitating her actions when she had attempted to heal his injuries. She didn’t care that his gentle ministrations were merely copied motions, for his touch felt nice in an exciting way … and he wasn’t even trying to seduce her, not yet anyway. She didn’t think so.
Melody blinked her eyes open.
Since her sight was still blurred, she made out little other than Cadeyrn’s broad shoulders and deep blue eyes. “Your Majesty, am I still in your castle?”
“You’re in your bedchamber at the vicarage. Can you not see for yourself?”
It took several more blinks before she was able to see clearly. She nodded finally. “Now I can.”
“Good.” Cadeyrn had an irresistibly tender look on his face, one that made her feel beautiful and special. Melody dared not think what she really looked like this morning, knowing that her hair had to be an unmanageable tangle, she was green around the gills, and beads of perspiration were dripping off her nose.
No doubt he found her irresistibly appealing.
“As a matter of fact, I do,” Cadeyrn said with a soft laugh and reached out to tweak her nose. “Do you remember what happened to you last night?”
She responded with a pained nod. “I met your subjects and royal council, danced at your Fae banquet. What of Ygraine? Did it work? Did I heal her?”
“Aye, but at some cost to yourself.” His frown returned as he studied her. “I was told that you would not recall what you did for Ygraine.”
“I wasn’t certain. It felt like a dream, one that I would rather forget. My head hurts, my limbs are numb, and I’m about to deposit the contents of my stomach into that chamber pot you’ve so thoughtfully put in front of me.” Having said that, she rolled onto her side and heaved into it. She was surprised, but grateful, when Cadeyrn brushed back her hair and held it off her face as she did so. Fae kings were not expected to perform these menial functions, yet he did so without complaint.
She let out another moan and sank back onto her pillow, surprised again when Cadeyrn dabbed a cool, damp cloth across her forehead and her neck, and then calmly proceeded to wipe away all trace of day-old food from her lips.
“Better?” he asked.
She nodded. “But my heart still hurts.”
“Your heart? Explain to me how it hurts you.” His gaze descended to the valley between her breasts. Oh, the leaps her heart took as he studied her with those penetrating blue eyes!
“It hurts right here.” She cautiously touched her finger to a point atop her left breast. “A raw pain shot through me when I healed Ygraine. It felt as though someone had taken a knife and sliced off a little piece of my heart.”
“That must have been when you screamed.”
She nodded again. “It still hurts. Am I bleeding?”
He eased the covers down to her waist and unlaced the ties of her nightgown to expose her
bosom. She ought to have been shocked, but Cadeyrn was not leering at her. A small part of her wished that he was. “I’ve never heard of a healer receiving this sort of injury before,” he mused, unaware of her wanton thoughts … oh, dear! She hoped he was unaware. “But you are not Fae, so it is possible you are experiencing a reaction unique to humans.”
“Can you do anything to make the pain stop? It really hurts.” In truth, each breath now felt like a dagger’s point thrust into her heart.
“Lie still. Let me take a closer look at your body.” Which he did, performing a shockingly thorough inspection and then starting all over again.
At no point did she try to stop him, for his calloused palms felt heavenly on her skin—stroking down her arms and up her thighs, and finally coming to rest on the mounds of her breasts. She let out a breathy moan or two, not the sort of response one would expect to slip from the lips of a virtuous female, but she didn’t feel particularly virtuous at the moment.
She ached in so many unmentionable ways.
Cadeyrn’s hand lingered on her left breast, cupping it in his large palm and kneading it lightly to rub away the pain while he intoned a Fae chant. She didn’t understand the words, but his touch worked wonders, and within a few moments she no longer felt as though her heart were ripping with each breath.
In truth, he cured her almost immediately. However, she had no intention of asking him to stop, for she loved the caressing warmth of his fingers on her—
“Melody,” he said, in that smooth-as-honey voice of his, “you know I can read your expressions.”
“For pity’s sake, stop doing that!” She jerked the front of her nightgown closed and shrank back against the headboard, bumping her head in the process. “Ow! This is all your fault. Now my head is throbbing again,” she accused, more embarrassed than actually hurt.
“As are parts of my body,” he said with a chuckling groan and ran his fingers lightly through her hair to tuck the loose curls behind her ear. “Where does it throb?”
