The Golden Key Chronicles
Page 9
Caedmon gently tipped her hand and brought the faint curve of her wrist to his nose. Deeply inhaling, he bathed in her floral perfume. Her scent invaded his soul, and his cock hardened in response. He fought the urge to pull her into his world and kiss her until reason and sensibility abandoned them. Until the deep ache in his veins had been sated.
If only he could breach the veil. Then the danger would all be his. But, alas, that burden was not his to bear. She, alone, held the power to cross.
He could never request such a thing. Not of her. The key be damned, his kingdom and the fate of his people, two nations in ruin. None of those things remotely compared to the grace she bestowed him, the few precious hours he’d known in her presence. He would face any adversary to ensure her wellbeing, regardless of the outcome.
He lowered her wrist and his palm met the hard resistance of the glass as he guided her arm back through the barrier. The light tapered to a pinprick and winked into nonexistence. She frowned and rolled away from him, tucking her hand beneath her lace coverlet. Her breathing deepened and slowed.
Far off in the distance, the grand bell tolled twice. Apex. The day dwindled, and the veil had thinned enough, he could claim the coveted prize.
Caedmon shoved up from his sleeping pallet, returned the mirror to his armoire and stalked across his chamber. He unsheathed his sword and swept the tip in a wide arc, relishing the weight of the blade in his hand. This was what he knew. The clash of steel against steel, the rumble of hooves and the blare of trumpets, a guttural warrior cry as the guard stormed in for its first wave of attack.
She’d not yet asked him about the key.
He rolled his shoulders and centered his sword, struggling to rein in his frustration.
And whence she did, he must be prepared to answer truthfully.
He whirled and jabbed at the air, but his feet tangled and he stumbled to the side. Goddesses wept, he was a bumbling fool. How could he now ask her to sacrifice everything? What unjust god decreed he merited the privilege of this heinous act?
He centered his sword a second time, closed his eyes and filled his lungs. Hoisting the blade overhead, he spun and executed a downward thrust he’d used in battle too numerous times to count. The weapon teetered unsteadily in his hand and a slight tremor traversed the length of his arm. He growled and hurled the sword aside, stormed to the fireplace and braced his hands on the mantel. No mortal man could make this choice, the weight of his country against the love of his heart.
“What’s the matter?”
He jerked his gaze to the mirror and quickly stood. She sat like a vision of splendor, the lace coverlet pooled around her hips, green eyes bright with concern and the golden cascade of her hair tousled from sleep.
“The hour grows short.”
She lowered her lashes and nodded. “I know.”
“We have much yet to discuss.”
***
Rowena’s stomach plummeted. Caedmon’s solemn tone, the brooding set of his brow and the vicious way he’d heaved his sword across the room all told her he still held onto something. A dangerous secret was slowly eating away at him, and she only needed one guess to determine the problem. “The key.”
“Yes, my lady.”
But the difficulty of delivering it was no longer an issue. She could’ve sworn her hand had passed through the mirror in those foggy moments before she was fully awake. Could’ve sworn he’d kissed the tips of her fingers. Why wasn’t he happy? Why wasn’t he jumping for joy? Whatever obstacle was keeping them apart had thankfully, magically, disappeared.
She frowned down at her blankets, twisting them in her fingers. Maybe she’d only dreamt the warmth of his skin, the hard muscles of his chest. After last night’s wishful thinking, she’d become a victim of her overactive imagination.
Or maybe she hadn’t dreamt them at all.
He’d pushed her hand back through the glass. Perhaps his kiss was merely his way of saying goodbye. Once she gave him the key, their time together would end. Soon after, the glass would go dark and the veil would splinter, never to reopen.
She squeezed her eyes closed. God dammit, no. Things couldn’t end that way. She wouldn’t let them.
For whatever reason, to fulfill whatever role she played in Caedmon’s history, the veil had opened, and she wasn’t the only one who stood to lose everything they shared. His country was on the brink of war, and the people of his kingdom—his very life—could hang on the balance of her next decision. But she couldn’t make it until she understood everything they were up against.
She lifted her chin and stared straight into his eyes. “I have one final question for you, Caedmon. Why is this key so important to you?”
He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “Not to me. The key means nothing when compared with you, my lady.” He strode closer to the mirror, hands fisted and frustration glinting in his eyes. “If fate were mine to shape, I would gladly freeze time and spend the remainder of my days gazing upon your exquisite beauty, but a profound duty combats with my desires, and the task laid at my feet allows me no recourse.”
The anguish on his face tore a small hole in her heart, and she scooted closer to the glass on her knees. “I believe in you, Caedmon. Just tell me what we need to do and I’ll do it.”
His jaw clenched so hard she worried his teeth might crack. He growled and spun away from her, pacing his bedroom like a caged animal. She braced and waited, tracking his anxious stride. Whatever was coming, she would do everything within her power to stand strong.
He finally stopped, but kept his focus trained on the ground. “Our legends foretell of a golden key which unlocks a chest of undue riches, a blinding light by which the future will be illuminated. Whoever holds both key and chest shall rule the world with a terrifying power, an otherworldly knowledge of things yet to pass.”
He lifted his head and her pulse stuttered at the misery etched on his brow. “Our neighboring kingdom to the north possesses such a chest. For many generations they have kept it secreted away under heavy guard, and an uneasy entente has existed between us.
“Yet, this peace only exists because prophecy also speaks of a warrior prince from Austiere’s realm. A Rescinder of purest heart who will suffer a time of Gleaning. He will spend three days with an enchanting sorceress who clasps to her breast the only key and, if he remains true, at the end of three days she will deem whether he is worthy to receive the key.”
She swallowed past the thick lump in her throat. “What happens if she judges him worthy?”
“He will ride out on the fastest steed and herald his victory, and the balance of power between the two nations will be maintained.”
“And if she does not?”
“That is why our enemy is at the gate, awaiting the setting bell. If, by the third day, the Rescinder has failed…” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “If I have failed, they will set upon us with their siege engines, and though we may choose to ride out and meet them in battle, the dishonor of my failure will mar our nation’s history throughout the ages.”
She didn’t hesitate. Not for him. Not when she held everything in his world in the palm of her hand.
Rowena lifted the key off her chest and swept the chain from around her neck. “Here. I’ve heard enough. Whether this key saves your country or you ride out to certain death, whether the veil shatters forever and I never see you again, at least I can say I did the right thing. You are more than worthy, Caedmon. The key is yours.”
She twined the chain through her fingers and leaned toward the glass. A metallic gong vibrated the bones of her arm when her fist connected with the solid surface of the mirror. Sitting back on her heels, she stared at the key in her palm. Well, that didn’t seem right. Her arm had crossed into his world, right? “What happened? Why couldn’t I get through?”
Caedmon closed his eyes and a small breath parted his lips. “The key cannot be handed through the veil, my lady. Such a thing is forbidden. A failsafe to g
uard against deceit. You must wear the key, close to your heart, and deliver it to me. Only through the surrender of selfless love can such a thing be achieved.”
“Oh…I see.” She lowered her hand to her thigh.
In a bizarre fairy-tale way, those rules did make sense. Her love for him had opened the veil. Just like a kiss waking a sleeping princess or the perfect fit of a waylaid glass slipper. It was beautiful. It was magical…
She snapped her chin up. And why the hell didn’t he tell her that in the first place? They’d been sitting here wasting precious time! Time she could’ve been surrounded by the strength of his arms. Moments when she could have lost herself in his heated kisses.
A giddy swirl took flight in her stomach and she grinned. She could be with him. She could travel to his world. “Right. Okay. So I just dive straight through?”
He smiled softly. “I could never ask such a thing of you, my heart. The risk is too great.”
Uh oh… All the joy fled her system like compressed air blurting from a spiraling, out-of-control balloon. “What do you mean?”
“Once the veil is crossed, no guarantee ensures the pathway will remain open. You may find yourself imprisoned in my world.”
Her brows shot up in surprise. “Like, forever?”
“I know not, my lady.”
“Oh.” At last they had reached the true crux of the problem. She must make a choice. Give up everything or doom Caedmon to a fate of dishonor…or quite possibly, a horrible death. If she chose the latter, there would be only one outcome. She would never be able to face another mirror again.
She returned the chain to around her neck. Visions of Ollie—the shop—Violet—her parents flashed rapid-fire through her mind. But not one of them made her heart constrict like the tender light sparkling in Caedmon’s brown eyes.
“If I do this for you. If I step through the mirror, will you catch me if I fall?”
He stood rapt, the fringe of his bottom lashes glistening with unspent tears. A deep breath lifted his shoulders, and he strode toward the armoire, extending his arm over her head. An internal whirring sounded and, a moment later his hand reappeared, his mother’s ruby ring hooked on the end of his index finger. “Reach through the veil with your left hand.”
Her breath caught and she clutched her fist to her chest. “Caedmon, you can’t—”
“I can and I shall. This ring is mine to do with as I please. Now give me your left hand.”
She tentatively reached out and, with the ease of parting water, her fingers broke through the veil. Warmth pulsed around her hand, wrist…up her arm. Shimmering light prickled her skin as she leaned forward and stretched for her prince.
He grasped her wrist and slid the ring onto the third finger of her left hand. “My heart is yours, sweet Rowena. As surely as it beats in my chest, you own it. Now and forever, I pledge to you my love, lest you choose to join me or not.”
Euphoria soared as pure, sweet bliss flooded her soul. Joyful tears filled her eyes and rained down her cheeks. He loved her. She tossed her head back and laughed through her tears. Well, of course he did.
The princess didn’t wake unless the prince was her one true love. The glass slipper didn’t fit just any old foot. And her love wasn’t the only one to open the mirror. It had taken the strength of both their loves to unlock the veil.
Every word he uttered, every gaze, each of his smiles shouted the truth. He loved her, was willing to sacrifice everything for her; his place in history and the safety of his kingdom. Their future, their hearts, the mirror’s divine blessing. He would give it all up because he loved her, and a thrill sang through her body that she could truthfully admit the same.
“I love you, too, Caedmon. And I gladly join you, regardless of the outcome.”
He tugged her hand and she slowly leaned in, knowing their first embrace, their first kiss would be a memory she would carry with her into forever.
And then, she froze. “Wait.”
His fingers tightened around hers. “Your decision wavers?”
“No, no.” She chuckled and squeezed his hand in return. “But I need you to take the ring off for just a second.”
He slipped the jewel from her hand and she withdrew her arm, scampered off the bed and rifled the drawer of her nightstand. After locating a notepad and pen, she ransacked her brain, trying to come up with the perfect note before concluding short and sweet was probably best.
My dearest Oliver,
I may or may not be back.
The store is yours.
Love,
Ro
She balanced the notepad against her bedside lamp and reclaimed her spot on the bed. Combing her fingers through her hair, she straightened her shoulders and filled her lungs. “Okay. I’m ready.”
“You are certain?”
Rowena skimmed the length of Caedmon’s body, up his leather-clad legs, past the tempting bulge between his thighs. The front of his shirt hung open, revealing the corded muscles of his ribcage, the smooth expanse of his tight chest. She locked onto the profound devotion in his gaze and her heart tripped a beat. Oh, she was more than ready. “Count on it.”
Her hand broke through the veil once again and, before she could move farther, Caedmon returned the ring to her finger. The weight of the stone was a glorious burden on her hand. If she’d selected one of her own, the choice couldn’t have been more perfect.
Encased in an oval of glittering white diamonds, the blood-red jewel spanned the space between her second and third knuckles. Light sparkled and glinted along the finely cut facets, as if a million tiny flames—or perhaps an eternal heartbeat—flickered inside the stone.
Caedmon stepped closer to the glass and gripped her elbow, his other arm open and awaiting her arrival. She closed her eyes and became submersed.
A warm liquid pulsed around her face. The light distorted and stretched behind her closed eyelids. A loud rushing filled her ears. Her heart thudded with the speed of a million thundering hooves. Strange scents filled her senses—oiled metal, leather and exotic spices, ashes and the sweat of a thousand men. Time stopped, and she became enthralled, suspended in eternity, teetering on the brink between two realities.
Caedmon tightened his grip and yanked. She tumbled through the mirror and straight into his arms. He cinched her to his chest and unleashed a torrent of kisses—her lips, cheeks and neck, back to her lips, over and over until she stood breathless within his embrace.
She laughed and threw her arms around his neck, holding tight when he lifted and spun her around.
Feet firmly planted on the cold stone floor, she leaned back and placed her hand on his chest. He was taller than she’d expected, but the way he towered over her offered her comfort. She’d found shelter; a safe haven within the broad expanse of his shoulders. Love within the immeasurable depths of his eyes. And his lips, so soft, the perfect contrast to the rigid strength of his arms. “Am I really here? Is this really you?”
“We are together at last, my love. And for as long as you will have me, I remain steadfast by your side.”
Rowena rose on her toes and eagerly met his kiss. Their worlds melded into one. The tip of his tongue flicked against hers and her knees faltered. A thrill coursed her skin when the edge of his teeth nipped the corners of her lips. He tangled his fingers in her hair and she sighed as he tipped her head back to plunder and sup from her mouth.
“Oh, my heart.” He spoke against her lips, their breaths mingling. “I knew you would taste sweet.” He smoothed his palms down the length of her back, cupped her bottom and shoved her hips forward. A dip of his knees and he thrust against her, meeting her sweet spot with the hard heat of his groin.
Exhilaration burst like fireworks in her belly. Caedmon groaned and rolled his hips, increasing the friction. Her hands trembled as she greedily smoothed them over his chest and arms, along his shoulders to bury her fingers in his thick hair. He crushed his lips to hers and moist anticipation bathed the skin of her thighs.
He scowled and grasped her upper arms, pulling her back to his chest. “Do not leave me.” Shackling her wrists in his fingers, he returned her arms to the tops of his shoulders. Her nipples hardened against the heat of his skin, and she lifted a brow when a mischievous smirk twitched his lips. “Was I remiss in mentioning that nothing of your world would pass through the veil? Only you and the key may gain entry.”
She gaped. “You knew I would come through without my clothes on?”
He tipped his head back and forth. “That is a matter I plan to debate with you at length.”
She chuckled. “I look forward to our heated discussion.”
“Then let us not dally.” A sweep of his hand and he scooped her legs into the crook of his elbow, his other arm a solid immovable brace against her back.
She squawked and held tight to his neck, though he didn’t seem to need the aid of her support. His muscles flexed and shifted under her arms, his strides strong and sure as they neared the bed. Another squeak escaped when he tossed her to the middle of the blankets as if she weighed no more than a bag filled with air.
Grasping her ankles, he placed one knee on the feather mattress, pinned her with a heated stare from under his brows and jerked her closer to the edge. Excitement sparked along her nerve endings. He stripped the shirt off his body and her breath thinned. He was so damned beautiful. Her half-blood gypsy prince. His heart made for love and his body for sin.
A low growl rumbled in his chest as he slithered his hands up her legs, his splayed fingers a honeyed caramel against her white skin. A languid massage of her calves, and she squirmed against the rasp of his palms skimming the ticklish skin behind her knees.