Prince of Fire

by Linda Winstead Jones

  She would’ve preferred to march all night, but everyone in the party needed rest. Even her.

  Even though she rested comfortably in Sian’s arms, sleep was impossible. Realizing that she was tense and nowhere near sleep, he gently tipped her face back so he could look into her eyes. “Don’t worry so much,” he whispered, so as not to wake the sleeping Anwyn soldiers. Other soldiers kept watch, but most of them slept.

  “How can I not worry? Ciro is closer to Arthes, which means his father, the ailing Emperor Arik, is in grave danger. My little sister Sibyl is in the palace. Good heavens, Sian, I asked for her help before I realized what we were up against, and now she’s…” Ariana pushed down a rush of guilt and tried to concentrate on the larger picture, the picture of war.

  “An untold number of souls have surely been taken or destroyed by the demon while we wasted days waiting for Keelia to be found. Every soul the demon takes increases its strength, so that is not an unreasonable concern. And what of Taran? I sent the young sentinel on a mission of great importance, and we have no way of knowing if his journey to the Southern Province is proceeding safely or not.”

  “You’re babbling, love,” Sian said in a calm voice.

  “I am not.” Perhaps she was speaking rapidly, but that didn’t mean she was babbling. “Oh, and what about my brother? Duran probably knows by now that I tricked him to get him away from the palace before I left so he wouldn’t feel obligated to join the march and throw himself between me and every danger. Someone had to collect Lyr, that’s true, but if Duran isn’t livid then he will be when we come face to face again and he realizes what happened. No one knows what’s become of Keelia, and according to the prophesy she is necessary in this war. Necessary, Sian. If Ciro wins …”

  Sian stopped her with a gentle finger against her lips. “Stop. All mat is true, but you cannot dwell on that which you cannot change. Think instead of what you can do in the days to come. You can and will snatch back souls from the demon when we have access to his wounded soldiers, his blasted Own. In doing so, you will weaken Ciro and the Isen Demon. You can and will take these fine Anwyn soldiers to Merin, who has surely doubled his army’s size since last we saw him. We know what we’re fighting now, and in future battles we will be more prepared. You can and will make Arik well again with your enhanced healing powers. Sibyl will not be harmed. We will make her safety a priority.” He sighed. “We can and will find a priest so that we can be properly married. Properly, legally, quickly, righteously …”

  Ariana laughed gently, and with that laugh she found herself drifting toward the sleep she needed. “You’re right, of course, husband. I can still call you husband, even though we’re riot yet wed properly, legally, and all the rest, can’t I?”

  “Of course. You, my love, can call me anything you’d like.”

  Sleep called, it felt closer, but she was not yet ready to fall into that much-needed slumber. “What comes of the prophesy your grandfather penned if Keelia isn’t found?” Her heart hitched at the thought of her cousin in the hands of an enemy from Ciro’s wretched army.

  “If the Prophesy of the Firstborn is correct, and so far it has been, she’s well and will play her part.”

  “So, will she be the one to betray love in the name of victory or will she wield the crystal dagger?” Ariana herself had already visited the Land of the Dead, fulfilling that part of the prophesy. Of course, Sian’s grandfather had not predicted that she’d return from the Land of the Dead, but she had. What else did they not know?

  Sian pushed a length of wildly curling hair away from her face. “I wish I could tell you.”

  Ariana yawned. “Maybe the dagger, though in a way it makes more sense for Lyr to fulfill that part. I love my cousin, I truly do, but Keelia can be cold. Not cold, precisely, but distant. Detached. I think her gift has created an isolation she’s never found her way past. One has to know love in order to betray it, and I don’t think she has ever given away much of her heart. Maybe she never will. I don’t know. Maybe that coldness means she’s well suited to betrayal. This is all speculation, so … why am I torturing myself with these questions?”

  She settled herself more comfortably in her husband’s arms. He was insistent that they marry as soon as possible, but in her heart, she and Sian were married and had been since he’d bound them together with the twine that encircled her throat, and his, in what she’d come to call their wedding chokers.

  As she drifted toward sleep, her enchanter husband created an illusion for her benefit. Instead of a thin rough blanket over the rock of this mountain as their bed, there was a soft mattress and fine sheets. Instead of an almost full moon, there were candles galore to illuminate their world. They were covered by the softest of blankets. It wasn’t real, but for the moment it felt real enough.

  “Sleep well, love,” Sian whispered as sleep claimed her.

  He tried to hide his worry from her, but she heard the apprehension in his voice.

  *

  Keelia awoke slowly, stretching her limbs and fighting wakefulness. No, no, she wasn’t ready to wake up. The dream she’d been enjoying was too good to leave behind. In the dream Joryn had been atop her, and the sensations they created were beyond anything she had imagined.

  She sighed, and tried to move, and found herself stuck.

  No, not stuck. Pinned. To the ground.

  She suffered a moment’s panic before she realized how she was pinned. Joryn, apparently still afraid she would run away while he slept, had decided to spend the night with one arm and one heavy leg draped across her body.

  The position might not bother her so much if she hadn’t been dreaming about him so vividly.

  It was very nice, the sensation of his body against hers. She was naked; he wore only those annoying trousers. His chest and his arms were bare, and they rested against her own bare flesh. His skin was warm, but she found she didn’t mind the added warmth. Like the touching, it was nice. It made her feel intimately connected to Joryn, even though he was a Caradon and most definitely not the mate she had waited for.

  Having him so close, on the heels of a decidedly passionate dream, made her wonder why she’d waited all these years for her mate to arrive. It wasn’t required mat she wait for anything or anyone. As Queen, she had numerous privileges others did not. She could order any Anwyn male to fulfill her every desire, and he would have no choice but to obey her. In fact, he would be honored. Privileged. As Queen, she was given everything she wanted, and right now she wanted this Caradon. Her mind and body had been at war for many days, and it appeared that her body had won this particular battle.

  She might be a virgin, but it wasn’t as if she didn’t know what to do. Not only had she suffered the endless instructions on sexual behavior and practices from the priestesses who wished for the palace to be filled with princes and princesses as soon as possible, but she’d experienced sexual relations in her dreams and in those visions which were more real than dreams. Now she wanted the experience to be entirety, utterly, real. Her mate, when he came—if he came—would understand that she was obligated to seek out the pleasure her body demanded.

  And her body did demand. Inside, where she wanted Joryn to be, she clenched. There was a new and deep tremble, and an ache… a true and deep ache reminiscent of her most ardent heat, though the time was not right for that demand.

  No, she would not conceive a child today, but she could and would experience the release she had only dreamed of.

  Joryn’s eyes opened slowly, as if he instinctively knew she’d awakened. The sharp color of those eyes still startled her, but of late they’d, been green in her dreams, so it was not entirely a shock to see them so close and so intensely emerald.

  Not wanting to make any missteps in this, her first sexual encounter, Keelia did her best to recall the lessons of the priestesses, lessons she had all but ignored until now. As Queen, she was not only entitled to pleasure, but obligated to follow the commands of her body. As Queen, she embodied the urg
es of the animal and the needs of a woman. Sex was right and natural and good, and with Joryn’s body against hers, Keelia could not recall why she had waited so long for a mate who might never come.

  She caught his gaze and held it. As he wore the blasted bracelet, she could not see into his mind, but in truth she didn’t need to. There was passion in his eyes, and she could almost find release simply by staring into those eyes and imagining what would happen next.

  His hand rested on her bare hip. It stroked there, very gently. Would he be a gentle lover or a frenzied one? Would he arouse her before the act began, or simply roll atop her and enter quickly? In her dreams, in her visions, he had done both, and both were pleasurable. Both were amazing.

  While he gave her a sleepy smile, her Caradon cupped one breast in his large hand and teased the sensitive nipple with his thumb. She reeled, catching her breath and instinctively rising so that his hand cupped her breast more firmly. His fingers trailed across her flesh in a familiar way, roughened fingertips trailing across the sensitive flesh of her breasts until Keelia gasped with the pleasure of it and reached out to grab a handful of his long, tangled hair.

  His hand descended slowly, raking across her belly and delving gently, very gently, between her legs to stroke her in a way that made her gasp again and lurch, her hips rising to meet the intimate caress of his hand. It was as if her body once again had a mind of its own, as if it knew exactly where and exactly how it needed to be touched. Ribbons of pleasure shot through her body, and her breath would not come correctly. It was lovely, it was exciting… but this wasn’t what she wanted.

  Keelia found her tongue, in spite of the coiled tension that wound through her entire body threatening to steal away all logical thought. “I command you to lie with me,” she said, her voice shaking only slightly. Maybe he., wouldn’t hear that telling tremble. “I want you inside me. Now.”

  The fire in Joryn’s eyes died suddenly. “What?” He ceased stroking her flesh, and he took his hand away.

  “I have issued a Royal Directive, which is not subject to question,” she said sharply. Why had he stopped? “I am in need of physical gratification, and you are the only male present,” Her voice sounded much too breathless and needy. She did not want to need anything so desperately. “You do know what to do, don’t you? You led me to believe that you were well acquainted with the methods of sexual gratification. Did you mislead me?”

  She felt the distance more than saw it. Joryn drew away from her, but his leg remained in place, restraining her. “Am I mistaken, or did you just order me to have sex with you?”

  Keelia blinked. “Did I do so incorrectly?” In her furor she had forgotten that Joryn didn’t obey commands. In fact, he seemed quite put off by them. The priestesses had told her no man would dare to deny her when she issued such an order, but they had never met this maddening Caradon,

  Joryn rolled away from her, and she felt suddenly bereft Empty. Alone.

  “No woman orders me to do anything, and where my pecker is concerned, I make my own rules and decisions, thank you very much.”

  “Your, uh, pecker, if that is what I believe it to be, though I have never heard that term before, seems to have made up its mind without you.” Keelia rolled up into a sitting position. He was ready for her, she was ready for him, she had issued a decree… What was the problem? Why was he walking away? “You have pleasured women before, have you not7’

  He faced her, not at all embarrassed that his cock was hard and its dirust made his trousers misshapen. “Yes,” he snapped. “Many times.”

  “Do you not enjoy sexual relations?”

  “Very much so.”

  She felt her face grow hot. A Queen should never blush, but she suspected that was the case. “And yet you do not want me.”

  “I am not one of your subjects, and I will not be ordered to your service. I am not Anwyn, Your Magnificently Naked Majesty.”

  “I see,” she said gently. “I repulse you because I am Anwyn, is that correct? I will admit to having the same reservations about you in past days, but I have been able to overcome my prejudices and … and …”

  “And order me to fuck you,” he finished when she stumbled.

  “I issued a perfectly acceptable decree. By law, you are obligated to obey.”

  Joryn gaped at her. “I am not Anwyn ” he said once again. “What makes you think I am obligated to satisfy your every whim?”

  Keelia pouted. “Not every whim.” The moment was ruined, and she was no longer lost in that thrilling, lusty haze that had driven her to issue die command Joryn had ignored. “Just one.”

  He shook his head. “For someone who’s supposed to be able to creep into anyone’s head at will, you don’t know much about males of any species.”

  Keelia jumped up and grabbed for her frock, pulling the gown over her head as she walked toward Joryn. “I don’t understand. What difference does it make who iniciates the sexual contact, as long as both parties are agreeable?” She sighed. “To be honest, I’m no longer sure why I asked.”

  “You never asked. If you had, we would not be talking right now.” His eyes narrowed. ‘Try again, if you’d like. A little begging and—”

  “I never beg!” Keelia snapped, mortified at the very idea. “Not for anything.”

  “I imagine all your life everything you ever wanted was given to you without question.”

  “Well… yes.” And he made it sound like a bad thing.

  Joryn turned away from her and began to laugh. To laugh. She followed him along the pathway that would lead deeper into Caradon Territory, toward the Grandmother he said would offer answers to all their questions.

  At the moment, Keelia didn’t care about the curse, the Grandmother, the evil they would try to destroy. Time for those worries would come soon enough. She was no longer lost in the passion that had compelled her to order Joryn to lie with her, but there was the principle to consider. He had denied her, and that would not do.

  If only she could peek into his mind, just for a few minutes. Her eyes fell to the bracelet that protected him from her powers. One way or another, she was going to have to get that blasted thing off him.

  *

  5

  Her Majesty’s edict had ended Joryn’s indec-sion where she was concerned sexually. Maybe he did want her, maybe he did dream of her, but that didn’t mean he would be ordered to He with her. Since she was a virgin, she likely wouldn’t be any good as a sexual partner anyway. He wasn’t missing anything by denying her what she wanted. In fact, the very idea of her needing something he could provide and not getting it gave him great pleasure of a different sort.

  So what did it matter that he was hurting as well? What did it matter that he was denying himself as well as her?

  They’d marched many miles toward their destination, and made camp on rocky ground near a cliff side that offered a magnificent view of the hills and valleys below. It felt as if they were near the top of the world, alone and safe and without dire responsibilities. Joryn could look out on the seemingly peaceful scene and almost forget that there was evil at work.

  He and the Queen had passed the day with very little conversation between them. They discussed food, drinkable water, when and where to rest… and nothing else. It was best that way, but now that they’d stopped for the night, the silence seemed to be a weighty thing that made the center of his spine itch.

  He wasn’t ready to tell her all that he could do, but since she was powerful in her own way, perhaps she could shed light on some of the mysteries he had faced when he’d last visited the world in-between.

  “Do you know of someone named Liane?” he asked.

  Keelia’s head popped up sharply, and her golden eyes widened. If she tried to deny she knew the name, he would know she was lying. She said she did not lie, but how could he trust such a statement?

  “Where did you hear that name?” she asked.

  “So, you know it.”

  “Yes, from a long time ago
. I haven’t heard that name in many years. Why do you ask about her now?”

  She might not lie, but he could. And did. “The Grandmother mentioned it to me before I left her to seek you out…”

  “Before you left her to kidnap me,” she corrected sharply.

  “Call it what you wish.”

  “There’s no need to deny what we both know to be…”

  Joryn held up a silencing hand. Keelia’s shoulders squared at his insolence, but she did quit speaking. ‘Truce, remember? Now, tell me what you know of this Liane.”

  Keelia claimed a place near the cliff’s edge, where she could look out on the world Joryn had been studying. She sat, maintaining her queenly air and dignity, not for one moment appearing uncomfortable with nothing but rock as her throne. She wore no crown, and her clothing was dirty and torn. Her hair was slightly tangled, and there was a smudge of dirt on one cheek.

  And she still looked very much a Queen.

  “Once, when I was visiting with my cousins in the Southern Province of Columbyana, and my mothers and her sisters were having one of their long conversations about times past, my cousins and I overheard a discussion about a woman they called Liane.” She looked up at him, and then patted the ground beside her. “Sit and rest. It has been a tiring day for both of us and this is a rather long story.”

  Joryn sat, so that he could relax and enjoy the view as she did. He was not so close that he could touch her, not without reaching out, and the mood was unexpectedly companionable. Trace, he reminded himself much as he had reminded her.

  Keelia spoke for a long while about Emperor Sebestyen and his last empress, Liane, who was the sister of Keelia’s Aunt Sophie’s husband, Kane Varden. The basics of the story were well known, they were history, but since he was not well versed in Columbyanan history, she told him what he needed to know. Apparently Liane had been kidnapped by Sebestyen’s soldiers at a young age and made a concubine, but in her years in Arthes she had risen in the palace hierarchy and finally married the emperor. She’d become his fifth empress, the fifth in a long line of ill-treated wives.