by AJ Nuest
A sweep of her thumb over the swollen head and a feral growl breached his throat. She squeezed her eyes closed when he thrust his hand deeper and grasped her from behind, parting the base of her ass to flit his fingers along the valley of her core.
Ecstasy flooded her veins, and she gasped when he shackled her wrist, wrenched her hand from his pants and rolled on top of her. His unyielding erection nestled in the vee of her legs. The steel band of his grip held her hand captive near her shoulder. His parted lips stole near, but he hesitated, his breath bathing her cheek as he held them poised on the edge of a kiss.
Fierce hunger swirled amid the depths of his gaze, yet he squinted. Behind his desire, a desperate question lingered. One that spoke to her soul without the necessity of words.
Was she inviting him in? Did her actions convey her final trust and belief in his love? And by all the nine goddesses, please let the answer be yes.
She smiled into his eyes, his unending patience stoking the deep yearning within her. She did trust him. Every step he’d taken had led them to this place. Each word he’d uttered filled with the promise of his devotion.
She worked her hand free of his grip and ran a fingertip along the supple curve of his bottom lip. And what’s more, unlike the moments they’d shared before their fated kiss on the verandah, no pain edged up the back of her head. No throb or sharp jab invaded her skull.
Her smile transformed into a grin.
He’d been right that first night they had met. As long as she avoided their time before she came through the mirror, thoughts of him brought her no discomfort. If she kept her mind centered on their future, she could enjoy everything he had to offer without pain.
Like black, iridescent feathers, his long hair slipped through her fingers as she cupped the base of his neck. One heavy ribbon fell sleek and cool against her mouth as she lowered his ear to her lips. “Let’s make a new memory,” she breathed.
He pulled back so fast, her hand dropped to broad plane of his shoulder. His wide eyes danced over her face as if he were trying to weigh her sincerity.
Did he need more convincing? Good.
Biting her bottom lip, she thrust against him, emphasizing her enthusiasm with a leisurely grind of her hips. Passion darkened his gaze and he sucked in a hiss. His eyes rolled back in his head and her pulse stuttered then soared with excitement.
She tightened her arm around him, bringing him down to her lips and, when he grinned and nodded, she happily nodded in return. A slight tilt of his head—
A twig snapped.
Caedmon froze, his focus riveted to hers, muscles coiled and tense under her palm. Irritation hardened his features, quickly chased by thin-lipped fear.
Dammit, they’d been found. But by who?
The answer leapt into Caedmon’s eyes. It didn’t matter. A garrison of Seviere’s men was too great a risk to ignore. Fight now, reason later…or prepare to be arrested…mayhap worse.
She nodded and pressed against him to stand, but he tightened his grip, keeping her in place. With a subtle tip of his head, he indicated his intent to head for the weapons he’d left near his saddlebags. She jerked her chin in the opposite direction, hoping to convey her plan to sprint for the trees. If they were about to be attacked, her best offense would be to see without being seen. Use the fog to transform her into a lethal phantom, striking from within the cover of the forest.
The frustration returned to his clenched jaw and he shook his head with a muted sigh before pecking her lips. She suppressed a chuckle even as he shoved off the ground and raced for his sword. Evidently, his annoyance at being interrupted rankled just as much as his concern for their safety.
A discordant twang pinged and bounced through the trees as she scrambled to her feet in a mad dash for the woods. A thick arrow thudded into the ground, piercing the center of her bedroll. Dart screeched and took wing to the sky.
All hell broke loose. Shouts and thrashing branches crowded in from every side. Grisly music sang through the air as arrows strummed from their bows and whirred a deadly hailstorm overhead. The horses screamed and reared, dislodging their wickets. Hooves pounded earth as they galloped pell-mell from the fray.
A flash of black caught her eye and she scowled, veering toward a large fir. Someone hid, just on the other side, and only one group she’d had the misfortune to meet wore those ridiculous ballooning pants and stalked with the silence of death.
Braedric’s henchmen. Faceless assassins who rimmed their onyx eyes with kohl and hid their expressions behind a veil of black cloth.
Dread pierced her heart even as a roar of hatred fought her need to remain silent. Chances were high that she and Caedmon were outnumbered at least four or five to one. Though they hunted in packs, never more than ten hashishans deployed at a time. Their presumed superiority with a blade and insatiable bloodlust instilled terror in their victims, granting their parties the authority to remain small.
Still, their attack made no sense. Did Braedric really think Caedmon needed their assistance to escort her back to Castle Austiere?
Snatching a silver-laced cord from the side of her boot, she dodged closer. A whirl of the weighted end, and she flung the jot just under the lowest branches of the targeted fir. She snagged the cord from the air and yanked. A sputter and gasp of surprise, and she smiled. Her aim had swung true. She gathered the slack and wrenched her fists close to her jaw. Pressing a bent knee to the trunk, she used the force of her weight to slam the nape of her victim’s neck against the rough bark.
“What do you want?” she ground through gnashed teeth, jerking hard on the cord to emphasize her gravity. “Tell me now or I swear by Helios I will split your head from your shoulders.”
The hashishan’s wheezing laugh chilled the marrow in her bones, demented and sour with glee. “Death-h-h,” he rasped. “I seek death-h-h…”
A flurry of movement, and the spurt of a warm liquid spattered her chin and arms. She dropped the cord and withdrew, holding her scarlet-laced hands to either side of her face. A swipe of her forearm across her jaw and her anger morphed into ice-cold disbelief, freezing her feet to ground.
The hashishan gurgled and slumped to the forest floor, a bloodstained knife clutched in his fist. A gaping slash bisected his throat, oozing what life remained in his veins, shiny red rivulets mingling with the orange and yellow leaves cushioning his head.
He’d killed himself. Sweet tits of the nine, he’d killed himself.
She shook her head and cautiously eased back another step, searching his ashen face for answers. Confession or death, and he’d chosen death. What the hell had Braedric threatened him with to make suicide the preferable choice?
A panic she’d never experienced before impaled its malevolent fingers through her chest. This was no simple “go seek out the rebellious sorceress and cart her back to the castle.” No, no, something entirely more sinister was happ—
A clang of silver and the roar of a battle cry ricocheted through the trees. Rowena whirled toward their campsite. Caedmon! Helios wept, were Braedric’s men sent to kill them both?
All thoughts of self-preservation vanished. She sprinted through the forest, mindless of the wicked branches whipping her cheeks and clawing at her loose hair. Adrenaline surged through her veins. Her heart thumped a deafening rhythm in her ears. A leap over some low brush and her breath seized. Caedmon struggled to fend off four attackers, his chest heaving as he dodged and weaved, deflecting their wide scimitars blow for blow. His shirt hung in tatters from his shoulders. Bright red tears bled down one side of his face. Two dead men sprawled on the ground near his feet.
A wild spin to gather her momentum and three silver stars whizzed through the air, homing in on the lead attacker. Snick! Snick! Snick! He howled and arched his back, face aimed at the sky, fingers grappling for the sharp intrusions. On a rustle of wings, Dart swooped low, talons extended. The hashishan shrieked, his hands flapping at his face. The sucking sluice of wet cartilage flipped her stomach as
the falcon veered skyward, two white orbs trapped in his talons, gore dripping from the assailant’s eyeballs.
Another of the vipers twirled, peeled off from the group and charged straight toward her, gutting his colleague and tossing him aside when the blind man floundered and staggered into his path.
Yet the threat of his menacing approach didn’t matter. She’d bettered the odds—two against one. At the very least, she’d offered Caedmon a fighting chance.
She whirled and raced for the woods, zeroed in on the first low-hanging branch and leapt, swinging hands to feet up the tree. A biting sting scorched the flesh of her calf. The world reeled as leather split and her boot peeled down her leg. A scream of pain and defiance erupted from her throat. Asshole! He was gonna pay for that!
A second biting nip to the side of her thigh and she slapped her palm to the sting. Her fingers closed around a leather cord and she sharply inhaled. A cluster of hooked barbs decorated the end of the hashashin’s whip, sticky with venom. One puncture of her skin and the poison would spread, slowly eat her flesh down to bone.
She wedged her heel between a fork in the branches, implanted the barbs in the wood and heaved the leather cord with all her might. The pursuing hashishan stumbled as he was dragged forward, tripped on a root and quickly righted his balance. But his minute blunder presented her a much-needed window. She rained a torrent of blades, one after the next, edging along the branch and following his path as he dove for cover under a bed of dense ferns.
Idiot! Two additional silver spikes and his outraged roar detonated against the sky. She scrambled from the tree, flicked her wrists and mowed down the plants with her wrist blades. If necessary, she would bleed the bastard dry, but not before he confessed every sordid detail behind why they were here!
One silver spike protruded from the left side of his chest, the other pinned his right forearm to the ground. She retracted her blades, straddled his ribs and fisted the collar of his shirt. A shuddering groan parted his lips as she hauled him to within a breath of her face.
“Why?” She violently shook him, hoping to force the words from his tongue. “What is the reason behind your attack?”
His glazed eyes rolled wildly in his head and he wheezed a raspy laugh. “Y-you shall never b-be victorious.” Blood gushed from his lips and he smiled, his teeth stained a macabre, ghostly pink. “More come. T-to des-destro-o-y…” He slumped and a death rattle leaked from his lungs. Blood gurgled like a bubbling stream around the spike embedded in his chest.
Dead, and she still had no answers. She released him to the ground and searched the trees. An eerie tingling pricked her fingertips. He’d said more were coming and yet all seemed quiet. Too quiet.
Leaving her weapons to rust, she dashed back to camp and thrashed into the clearing. Bodies lay strewn everywhere, scimitars clutched in their hands and puddles of blood pooled on the ground. But no Caedmon.
Horror stole into her veins, constricted the vessels of her heart. My God, what if he—
Movement rustled the opposite trees and she crouched low, one leg extended, two silver blades whirling to a stop in the centers of her the palms. Caedmon lurched into the campsite, his sword dripping crimson and panic etched on his face.
His eyes locked to hers as she slowly stood and they assessed each other across the distance. Naked from the waist up, he bore the evidence of having battled without his chest plate. A network of shallow slashes crisscrossed his chest, the gash on his cheek still wept and his hands were stained brown with dried blood. Yet he stood without aid, his breathing appeared normal and the light of his love still sparked in his gaze.
A wave of blessed gratitude lowered her shoulders. His face blurred as thankful tears swarmed her eyes. Thank God. Thank Helios, the nine and whatever unforgiving deities reigned above, he was all right.
She pressed the back of her hand to her trembling lips and assessed the carnage at her feet. What the hell had just happened? Not two minutes ago they’d been poised on the brink of ecstasy. Now nothing but horror and death surrounded them.
The urge to lose herself in Caedmon’s kisses, drown in the strength of his arms and try to erase all the hideous brutality nearly sank her to her knees.
Relief passed over his face and he shook his head, tossing his sword aside. “I heard a scream and I assumed—”
“Just…” She held up a hand, her breath hitching, and then beckoned him with her blade. “Get over here. You still owe me a memory.”
His eyebrows shot up and a moment passed before he tossed his head back with a hearty laugh. “Oh, my love,” he chuckled and stepped in her direction, “nothing would please me mo—”
A black missile streaked across her vision. Caedmon grunted and his arms shot forward as he stumbled backward several steps. The arrow’s black fletching seemed to materialize out of thin air, sprouting from his shoulder and pinning him to a tree like some grotesque feathered corsage.
Her body moved of its own volition. She whirled and the blades shot from her hands without command. The black-robed hashishan clutched his throat, a silver blade protruding through his fingers, and pitched forward from his hidden perch in a tree to the ground.
Hands fisted, arms pumping, she sprinted straight for Caedmon then pulled up short the moment he was within reach. His face was beet red, eyelids squeezed tight, fingers clutching the base of the arrow where it penetrated his shoulder.
An anguished groan gathered momentum and she thrust her hands in her hair, gripping her head to keep her skull from cracking open. Poison. Poison. The arrow would kill him unless she got him help fast. No, no! They’d been safe. They’d won. This couldn’t be happening! Those damned savages had ruined everything. He was supposed to kiss her. They were meant to live happily ever after, not die in these god-forsaken woods.
The low rumble of approaching hooves vibrated the soles of her feet and she snapped her gaze to the far side of camp. Shit! More were coming. She and Caedmon could be surrounded at any moment.
“Okay, okay.” She shook out her trembling hands then held them in front of his chest, fingers splayed, lightly touching his heated skin. “We’ve got a few seconds, at best. We need to get the arrow out and ride like hell away from this camp.”
“No.” The shake of his head was sluggish, his pupils dilated. “Go. Make haste and save yourself.”
Apparently the first place the poison attacked was the brain. “Have you lost your damn mind? I’m not going anywhere without you.”
Curling her bottom lip over her teeth, she whistled for Belial. A moment later, the stallion trotted into the campsite, snorted and pawed the ground, impatiently tossing his head.
“I know, I know,” she muttered. “Give me a second.”
She gripped the arrow near Caedmon’s hand and tried to make eye contact, though his head lolled side to side like an offbeat pendulum. “Hang onto your ass.” She braced her knee between his thighs, gritted her teeth, inhaled a deep breath and… A howl popped the veins in his neck as the arrow snapped between their fingers.
“Sorry, sorry.” She flung the offending feathers aside and eased him forward, propping each of his heavy arms on her shoulders. He sputtered and gasped. Tears coursed down his cheeks as the jagged end of the arrow slowly sank and disappeared inside his chest, only to reappear covered in blood as it slid from the hole in his back.
“Sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” Teetering under his weight, she urged him toward Belial and grabbed the horse’s mane. “Up.” She boosted Caedmon around the waist, but his feet remained rooted to the ground. For all her efforts, she might as well have been trying to hoist a granite boulder. A furtive glance toward the trees and she boosted him a second time. “I’ll help you, Caedmon, but I can’t do it alone.”
He pressed a hand on her shoulder and a groan eked from between his compressed lips as he waved his other hand in the air, missing Belial’s back by several inches.
Branches snapped off to her left. Hooves crashed through underbrush and an e
erie warrior cry trilled through the trees. They’d run out of time. Rowena clenched her teeth and slapped Caedmon’s backside. “Get on the damn horse, soldier. Now!”
He leapt off balance, landing flat on his stomach along Belial’s hindquarter. Grabbing Caedmon’s ankle, she guided his leg in a lumbering swing around the stallion’s rump until he straddled the horse, his face buried in Belial’s mane. Panic constricted her airway as blood gushed in bright rivulets down his arm. A wide red smear marred the pristine white of Belial’s hide. She snatched a rope off the ground and tossed it around Caedmon’s waist, wrenched him away from Belial’s neck and leapt up in front of him. A quick jerk of the rope, a tight knot and they were tied together. If he fell, she fell.
“Hang onto me!” she shouted, kicking Belial’s sides. The horse sprang forward straight into the trees.
Twining his mane through her fingers, she steered the stallion to the right, hoping to skirt the incoming marauders. Caedmon bounced like a limp corpse behind her and she tightened her legs around Belial’s sides in her fight to remain centered.
Flashes of the battle haunted her through the ghostly fog. Blood, so much blood. A spine-chilling sneer mixed with the coppery scent of death.
She held her breath, but the mortifying stench cloaked her body. A vile prison of filth mingled with her wind-swept tears. Death. By her hand. A light snuffed out in exchange for hers. The price of a soul for the right to remain free.
Revulsion and shame capsized her in frigid swells. A wail of despair fought to tear from her lungs. Why? Why couldn’t they just leave her alone? She’d done nothing to deserve their hatred, had fled the castle walls to be rid of their adulterous ways. Now there was only death. Death and fear. A menacing entity which crept in on silent feet and endangered everything she held dear.
Hazy light filtered through the branches and she spurred Belial harder. His stride lengthened and crested as he surged for open ground. They burst through the trees into a wide field. The thunder of his hooves echoed in her chest. The bellows of his lungs expanded and contracted along her inner thighs. And ahead, in the distance, the Black Forest loomed.
