by Meara Platt
Cadeyrn was the one who valued his control.
She, on the other hand, lost her wits at the mere sight of him, even when he was fully clothed and not paying her any particular attention. He was paying attention to her now, his eyes burning with a dark, sapphire intensity and his hands roaming over her body to find every sensitive spot. She wanted to touch him, too, but he let out a gruff laugh and trapped her hands in one of his own, holding them pinned above her head. “Next time,” he said with another soft growl, “not a good idea just now.”
“Promise.”
He touched his head to her forehead and laughed. “Don’t you know yet? Melody, my beautiful Melody, I would deny you nothing.”
He kissed her lightly on the lips, and then his head dipped lower and his lips closed over a breast. At the same time, his hand began to work its fingered magic between her thighs until she was wet and moaning in wild arousal, desperate to have him inside her and euphoric when he penetrated her womanly barrier and soared with her to new heights. Cadeyrn! Cadeyrn! I love you. I love you! The thought simply spilled from her heart, this spate of illogical words and feelings that felt so right, even though she was human and he was Fae, even though each step drew her closer to death, no matter how determined Cadeyrn was to prevent it.
She didn’t know if her love was strong enough to change the course of destiny, but if it wasn’t, she meant to enjoy every moment they had together. She wasn’t ashamed of her feelings for him and could deny them no longer. Cadeyrn, I love you so much. I ache everywhere inside of me, but it is a joyous ache … a boundless ache.
The words of the Draloch Prophecy repeated in her thoughts, those that spoke of her boundless love for Cadeyrn. She hadn’t wanted it to be true, but it was. Whatever happens, I’m glad it was you. Only you. No one else. I love you.
She didn’t know if he could read her thoughts, but sensed that he could.
He said nothing, instead repeating the mating dance, this time with a slow and gentle desperation, this time allowing her to touch him, to rouse him, to pleasure him until his body was hot and sweating, and he was now mindless and grunting. She watched his body strain and buck and finally tense as he was caught in the throes of his powerful release, made all the more powerful because he had lost control and given himself over to her in that moment.
Cadeyrn collapsed atop her, his skin hot and damp to the touch. “I think you’ve killed me,” he said with a satisfied grin.
“I haven’t. You’re still talking,” she assured, loving the weight of him on her, though most of his weight was now absorbed by his elbows propped on each side of her.
“Am I? That’s good.”
She let out a small, amused shriek as he reversed their positions in one easy move, rolling her atop him and swallowing her and the rumpled sheet loosely wrapped around her in his embrace. As she lay contentedly in his arms, her own heart beating rapidly against the calm and even beats of his, she couldn’t help but wonder at the cuts they’d both received to their hearts, cuts that left no scars, matching cuts as though a piece of each of their hearts had been stolen.
But to what purpose?
*
“The girl is still asleep in my bed,” Cadeyrn said to his council the next morning, meeting them as he often did in front of the Stone of Draloch to assess the attacks of the previous night and plan their daily course of action. He was dressed in his court finery, and though it was his usual manner of dress in the daylight hours, he particularly needed the reminder of his regal status this morning, for the memory of Melody nestled like a kitten in his arms made him want to forget his responsibilities and the prophecy that had sustained the Fae for thousands of years.
He wouldn’t, of course.
He would never turn his back on his subjects.
“Does she recall any part of the journey back in time?” Fiergrin asked.
“Some.” Cadeyrn turned to Ygraine, staring pointedly at her. “Not how or where you hid me. For some reason, I was permitted to learn that secret and remember it. She was not.” His gaze now encompassed his entire council. “I forbid any of you from mentioning it to her until we better understand why the knowledge was withheld from her. I know that you admire the girl, but you cannot interfere with the path she must take to fulfill her destiny.”
Ygraine placed a hand on his shoulder. “I do not worry for myself but for you.”
“You have always looked out for me, my good counselor,” he said with a nod of gratitude for all she’d done—more than he’d ever realized. Childless Ygraine had been like a mother to him, risking all so that he would survive in those early years. “But I worry for Melody. She has survived her trials thus far, but she shouldn’t be forgetting these important bits of knowledge. I fear that something has gone wrong. She ought to have seen how you hid me within the Stone of Draloch … how the Stone of Draloch allowed you to place me safely within its impenetrable façade and allowed you to take me out to keep me fed and nourished.”
He shook his head and sighed. “Why did the stone allow you in, Ygraine?
“To save you, of course.”
“But why only you? Not Fiergrin or Brihann, or anyone else. Back then, Brihann tried with all his might to destroy the stone because of its prophecy, but he couldn’t even make a scratch. Yet you were permitted to move me in and out freely. Why? And why is that truth hidden from Melody?”
Ygraine frowned. “Perhaps she is not meant to know all until she can be trusted with her powers.”
“Assuming she’s our savior,” Edain interjected.
Ygraine ignored the interruption and continued. “Were she to realize that the Stone of Draloch is at her command, that it serves her and not the other way around, she might misuse it. Not intentionally, of course. But that is why we must continue to test her powers. It is not only to determine whether she is The One, but to help her understand and control her strength if she is to be our savior. It seems the Stone of Draloch is purposely testing her memory. We must do so as well.”
“What are you suggesting?” Cadeyrn asked, though he knew the answer and was not in favor of it.
“That we cast a spell of forgetfulness over her.”
The other council members indicated their agreement.
“No,” Cadeyrn said. “It’s too dangerous. If her strength fails, she will forget us.” Though Melody had extraordinary abilities, she was still a mere human. How much Fae magic could she endure before her beautiful spirit gave out?
“If she fails, she will also forget you.” Ygraine’s hand remained firmly on his shoulder. “But there will be no spell cast over you. You will remember all that has passed between you and The Melody. I have seen the way she looks at you and know all that you shared was tender and sweet. Those memories will be lost to her, but not to you. Those memories will remain in your heart forever, and I fear for the ache it will cause you. However, she must undergo this test. You mustn’t let your admiration of her cloud your judgement.”
“You needn’t be concerned. I am as I always have been,” he said with a detached harshness to his voice that might convince the others on his council but would never convince Ygraine. Having known love, she also knew the damage that a lost love could wreak on one’s heart. “I have not forgotten my royal duty. Our moment of victory draws near. I’m eager for it, for that is the day Brihann’s threat will die.”
And so will Melody. Unless I can save her.
In the moment when he and Melody were taken back in time, the Stone of Draloch had admonished him to watch and learn if he ever hoped to do it. But the stone always spoke in riddles. Could he save Melody? If so, why wait five thousand years to tell him? He had taken in a wealth of knowledge, but which pieces were important? Which pieces were not? It took all of Cadeyrn’s resolve and concentration to work through the remainder of the Fae council’s business. Once finished, he dismissed his advisors and slowly walked back to his bedchamber, aching in the knowledge that Melody would be gone by the time he returned there.<
br />
Would he ever see her alive again?
He would. He had to!
He forced himself to tarry in returning to his chamber, for Fiergrin and Ygraine had gone ahead of him to cast the spell of forgetfulness over Melody before returning her to her own bed at the vicarage. It had to be done, Ygraine had claimed, as though it was foretold in the Prophecy, the interpretation of which he was now beginning to question. Fae elders had deciphered its words, their lore carried down from century-to-century and now spanning five thousand years.
What if they were wrong?
Melody. How do I get you out of danger?
She would be safe from the Dragon Lords for now, safe because all demon and Fae needed to know whether Melody would remember him after the spell was cast. If she did, then all would believe she was indeed his prophesied queen and Brihann would immediately come after her. If she did not, then she’d quickly be forgotten and a new search would begin for his true queen.
In his heart, Cadeyrn knew that he’d found his true queen. Melody would never forget him, as surely as he would never forget her were he the one tested. She overwhelmed his thoughts and feelings. Their connection was forever.
He turned to Beogrin, who had followed him out of the hall and was now walking quietly beside him. “Position the Fae army around the vicarage.”
“But Your Majesty—”
“Do it, Beogrin,” he commanded. “I will not leave Melody unprotected. She is no lamb to be casually led to the slaughter. Where is the glory in that? How am I to reign glorious if I allow an innocent to die?” he asked, repeating the question he had posed to himself so many times since meeting the girl. “If the spell of forgetfulness takes hold, she’ll no longer be able to see Fae, or Dragon Lord, or demon. And if left unprotected, she’ll be at Brihann’s mercy.”
Beogrin nodded thoughtfully. “Aye, and he will take her captive, certainly torture her for his own amusement until her frail, human heart stops beating.”
Cadeyrn thought of Melody, captured and racked with pain, begging for a swift death that Brihann would never grant. “Keep constant guard over her. Protect her.”
“With my life, Your Majesty,” Beogrin said in earnest. “But there is something I do not understand.”
“Ask it, Beogrin.”
“Lord Brihann tried to burn her with his dragon flames. Why would he do such a foolish thing? The Draloch Prophecy is clear that if she dies in dragon’s flame, then the demons will lose this war.”
“I doubt he meant to kill her, only to draw her out in order to capture her in his talons.”
Beogrin nodded. “And take her through a demon portal to his underworld.”
“He didn’t expect to fail, or that his actions would give renewed hope to the Fae, or cast doubt among his Dragon Lords. Our actions or inaction will not change the destined outcome. What is meant to be, will be. Whatever happens next, whatever mistakes Brihann makes, or the Fae elders may make in deciphering the lore of the Prophecy, or whatever mistakes I have made or will make, do not matter.”
Beogrin nodded again. “I can only speak for myself, but if the Fae are destined to join the demons of the underworld, then I shall not go willingly. I know there are many of us who will resist. You may count on us to protect The Melody with our lives.”
Satisfied, Cadeyrn dismissed him. In truth, he had never doubted Beogrin’s abilities or his honor, for he was the best fighter among the Fae.
No sooner had Beogrin left his side than Edain caught up with him. He tried to slip around her to enter the banquet hall, but she blocked his path. “Let me replace her in your affections,” she said, running a graceful hand along the silken sleeve of his tunic. “Tell me what she has done to bewitch you and I shall do the same.”
Cadeyrn masked his impatience as he studied her generous pink lips and golden hair. “You can’t, Edain. The feelings that flow within Melody are something special that none of us can imitate.”
Edain frowned. “Do you still believe in this nonsense? She is no one special. Ygraine has been manipulating the girl’s so-called powers. You know it. I know it. Everyone on the council knows it. The only one who has yet to realize it is the girl herself.”
“Melody’s abilities are real. Never be so foolish as to believe we are superior beings. I did so in the beginning and quickly learned the error of my ways.”
Her fingers curled around his arm, holding him back as he tensed and tried to draw away. “Cadeyrn, don’t you be the fool.”
He arched a scowling eyebrow. “I am not Cadeyrn to you, nor am I a fool.”
She paled and drew back. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I did not mean it the way it sounded. It’s just that you wanted me for your queen once. I had hoped—”
“That was long ago, when we were too young to understand our responsibilities and had not yet gained the ability to control our thoughts.”
“Or our hearts.”
“Edain,” he said softly, “don’t yearn as Ygraine does for something that can never be.”
“But it can be,” she said with a plaintive sincerity that tempered his anger at her dismissal of Melody and of his obvious regard for the girl. “Even Brihann once loved Ygraine. Why can’t you love me?”
“Do not make me say things that can only hurt you. You and I are not meant to be, much as I wish we were, for it would make things simpler for us all. But I do not love you, Edain, and never will. I hold you in high regard. That is all I can offer you.”
He saw the ache of her heart reflected in the pools of her aquamarine eyes and felt compelled to continue, though trying to reason with her probably made matters worse. Still, he tried to ease her sadness, for he now understood matters of the heart and did not wish to see her suffer. “You, of all my counselors, worry me the most. Unlike the others, you have never mastered your feelings.”
Her chin tilted upward proudly. “And what is wrong with that? Isn’t it what you are discovering? That these feelings are what make us powerful, not the lack of them?”
“Perhaps so, but the misdirection of those feelings is also dangerous. Ygraine has always been a believer in keeping us connected to our hearts, but it seems that she has taught you a little too well. Do not allow the sensations of your heart to overcome your reason.”
“As yours has?”
He scowled again. “Enough, Edain. You overstep in this matter. Had I given my heart free rein, I would be warning Melody of the perils that lie ahead for her, instead of standing here talking to you.”
She bit her lip and cast her gaze downward. “Forgive me, for I have been thinking only of myself. You have my allegiance, given freely and with devotion, no matter what fate befalls us. You are my king and I am your loyal servant.”
He dismissed her, but he kept his eye on her as she gracefully hurried away.
The little hairs on the back of his neck stood on edge.
Loyal servant?
Somehow, he doubted it.
Chapter Fourteen
The spell of forgetfulness the Fae elders had cast over Melody must have worked, Cadeyrn realized with growing despondency.
It shouldn’t have worked.
It shouldn’t have worked.
Cadeyrn stared at the vicarage from his vantage point atop the wall that separated it from St. Lodore’s Church. Three days as humans counted time had passed since Melody last shared his bed. Three days since Melody’s mother and the vicar had returned from their overnight trip to Windermere and resumed their quiet lives as a family. Three days since the ladies resumed tending to the daily household chores while the vicar retreated to his study at St. Lodore’s to work on another uninspired sermon.
To Cadeyrn’s frustration, neither the vicar nor Melody’s mother had shown surprise in finding the vicarage just as they’d left it. Still, Cadeyrn suspected that the vicar had been the one to invite the demons in. That he’d shown nothing in his expression only meant that he’d been told nothing by Lord Brihann and his demon agents.
C
adeyrn shifted uncomfortably, for he was not known for his patience and this waiting had him angry and tense.
Three meager days had passed since he’d last held Melody in his arms, days that felt like a thousand, for he sorely missed her. The occasional sight of her pulling weeds from the bluebell garden, hanging clothes to dry on the clothesline, walking to the church to dust the pews, or setting her pies on the window ledge to cool simply was not enough to satisfy him.
Most of all, he missed kissing her soft, rosy lips and basking in the warmth of her gloriously responsive smile. He supposed it was her smile that he missed most of all. Truth be told, he missed everything about her.
Adding to his unrest was the fact that none of Brihann’s demons had been seen in these three days. After thousands of years of battles, they suddenly seemed to have disappeared, and even the scouts he’d sent in all directions as a precaution could find no trace of them.
The truce—if that is what this momentary peace could be called—was unsettling to him, as though an unseen hammer was hanging over his head, ready to slam down and crush him at any moment.
As well, the air felt chill and crackled with foreboding. Even the gathering clouds seemed ominously darker. Dark clouds had always swirled above Friar’s Crag—a mirror of the darkness of the demon part of him—but this looming storm had spread across his Woodlands realm, well beyond the quiet village of Borrowdale, bringing massive gray clouds with it that served as harbingers of impending evil.
Still, there was a bright spot amid the dismal gray. It had not escaped his notice that the sun managed to shine through the fortress of clouds whenever Melody left the vicarage to tend to her daily chores. This was her mark, this golden light surrounding her, always present, and to his surprise it had not faded along with her memories of him.
