Tian's Guardian [Moon Child Series Book 3]

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Tian's Guardian [Moon Child Series Book 3] Page 21

by Candy Nicks


  Looking at Tian's distraught face, he acknowledged what she already knew. She didn't need a man to stand between her and the world. She needed someone to hold her hand and help her walk the path of life. Someone to remind her she was human as well as wolf. Twice, the Goddess had seen fit to take his strength, in order to ram the message home. To make him see the sacrifices involved in loving a Lupine.

  And the many rewards, he thought. I will lie in bed at night, wondering where she is and when she returns to me, it will all have been worthwhile. I will share her with the wolf and count myself a lucky man.

  "Sol?” Her eyes were losing focus, her voice wavering. “What are you thinking?"

  "That you will turn my hair grey with worry. And continue to beat me in battles of strength. That I will thank the Goddess for you every day."

  She blinked. “We are not yet married. You can still find yourself a normal wife. One you can impress with your strength. Who will obey your every word."

  "And how boring would that be?” Gently, he wiped the gathering snow from her hair.

  "I see what a treasure the Goddess has given me. I'm here for you, Tian. I was always here for you. You complete me in exactly the way a wife should."

  "It's snowing."

  "So let's ride and get these poor horses to shelter. They've given enough. Help me onto Balan. My legs feel like sponges."

  "Where will we go?"

  "South, but we'll cut across country to avoid ... well, to avoid any unpleasant encounters.” He raised his eyes to the darkening sky. “What do you think?"

  "A light fall. We should make it."

  "Will you be able to ride bareback?"

  "I will be able to do anything I set my mind to."

  He caught the twinkle in her eye, the smile curving her lips. She boosted him onto Balan's back and then gathered her bundle, the story harp and leapt onto the mare. “I have never properly thanked you for this beautiful beast,” she said, taking off with reckless abandon, hair flying. “I will name her Erana after the South wind. Catch me."

  Loving her would be a challenge, no mistake. He'd let her win every argument, every race, if it meant seeing that smile. Balan on the other hand had no intention of allowing the mare to reach their destination before he did. Grasping the mane, Sol bent low over the horse's neck and let him have his head over the grassland.

  Riding side by side, exchanging loaded glances with the woman he loved, Sol was filled with a euphoria not only brought about by the exhilaration of the ride. The wonderful feeling of moving at the same speed as another, one to whom he would match his pace for the rest of his life, made him want to sing out his joy to the heavens. Time would heal the hurts to his ego, This, with Tian, would endure for long years to come.

  Goddess-willing, he hastened to add. It never did to be complacent around She who had given him such bounty. No longer anxious for the triumphal return to Wolf's Valley which had figured so large in his plans, he now looked forward to the long hike back to the hut. To a winter of quiet companionship with this extraordinary Lupine he was more than proud to call wife. They would make their way to Wolf's Valley at the first sign of the spring thaw. Enter after dark when everyone was safely indoors. No ceremony or cheering crowds. Perhaps by then Tian would be carrying his child.

  "Slow down,” he called. “Recently back from the dead—remember? Not up to my full speed yet."

  "You will be.” Tian pulled up beside him, slowing the mare to walking pace, her cheeks flushed from the wind. “I have so much to learn.” She reached across to squeeze his hand. “Knowing you will be beside me. That I can depend on your strength and love. Your loyalty. It makes me feel safe."

  He lifted her knuckles to his lips. She understood so much more than she realised. Gave so much more than she knew.

  "My perfect Guardian,” she said. “I could ask for no better."

  "My perfect love,” he replied. “Your Guardian, now and forever."

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  Epilogue

  Sometimes she thinks she hears him inside her head, but as winter thaws into spring, she finally lets herself believe that Jarek is no longer a threat. First flowers, the tiny pereni, push their determined heads through the snow, painting the slopes with splashes of purple and yellow. The waterfall is no longer a frozen trickle and now every morning they awaken to the drip, drip of melting ice.

  Yesterday, Sol had shaved the beard grown over winter and asked her to clip his hair so it no longer brushed his shoulders. And this morning the first migration of birds appeared high on the thermals, circling the mountain peaks, their piercing cries echoing through the valley.

  Flushed from her run, she sinks back into Sol's warmth and the sanctuary of his circling arms.

  "It's time,” he says and lifts her hair to press the words onto the sensitive nape of her neck, her naked shoulders and back “Are you ready to leave?"

  "If you are, then yes.” She shivers with cold and pleasure. Realises, a little sadly, that they will not have this freedom at Wolf's Valley. Anxious, she turns in his arms and searches his face. He speaks little of Jarek, but the struggle to accept what passed between Sol and his nemesis has been difficult for him.

  His hands trace a slow trail down her back. Fingers fan to cup her buttocks and lift her. She wraps her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck. Joins her spirit with his in a kiss that asks, demands, reassures.

  "Yes,” she murmurs. “I am ready to follow where you lead."

  Sol climbs the steps to the hut. Shoulders open the door. “No leading. You will always walk beside me."

  She clings to him, continues the kiss while he unlaces his pants. She aches for him in ways he could never imagine. Not only for the slide of his flesh into hers, the lusty thrusts of his passion. The wonderful moment of surrender when he belongs to her alone. The physical side of mating is a gift, yes, but only part of the package of loving this man.

  A warrior with a gentle soul. Her place of safety. He is all these things and more.

  "Although,” he says, when he is lying spent beside her, “I suspect that more often than not, you will be out in front, leading me. Life with you will never be dull."

  She presses against his long body, cradled by his arm, basking in his heat. Always thankful for this gift of the perfect mate. As the years pass, they will learn to walk together in all things. There will be no place left unexplored, un-kissed or untouched. His skin is slick and hot. The air is thick with the scent of their lovemaking.

  "Come take a waterfall shower with me,” she says, eyes shining with mischief. “Or have you grown soft with all my attention?” Before he can stop her, she's out of his arms and running for the door, tossing him a cake of soap. Though icicles hang from the eaves, the warrior in him can never resist the challenge. She hears the thump of his feet on the wooden floor as he races to follow her. He scoops her up and carries her screaming to the frigid pool beneath the thundering water.

  Dangling her over the edge, he asks “Not man enough? Well, how's this?"

  Together they plunge into the ice-crazed water, their bellows and screams echoing around the mountains. How he manages to be so hard so soon and in such cold is beyond her. Will they ever stop wanting each other so intensely? When they are old and grey and slow, perhaps.

  A time that will come all too soon in this human life-span.

  They surface laughing and spluttering, her hair floating around them like a spidery net. He swims to stand under the falling water with jaw clenched tight to stop himself shivering. Brings the soap to his chest. With slow circles, he works up the lather, going lower and lower until she can stand it no longer.

  "I believe that's my task,” she says sliding her palm over the slippery foam to the part of him that's hers alone. “It will always be my task.” She flicks him a glance, unable to resist asking for the reassurance he always so generously gives. Works deft fingers along the length of his thick cock.

  With a deep rumble, he groans, �
��Yes. None but you.” The water makes a sleek, slivery cap of his hair. In the bright winter sunshine, his pale eyes gleam like chips of ice.

  She catches the tremor in his voice. Feels muscles held rigid, lest he shake and show her how human he is. “I'm also cold,” she says “You've proved your point and more. Now take me back inside and warm me up."

  He shakes his head. The Eagle warrior has one more thing to prove before the Moon Child returns her to the warmth of their bed. Like her, he's the best of two wonderful worlds and she loves them both with all her heart.

  * * * *

  He came to tame a wild woman and tomorrow he leaves with a wife. On a chain, around his neck, he wears her ring. On his heart he bears every word, every glance, each touch of her hand. Memories he holds close to sustain him on the days she roams as wolf and the nights she creeps away to sing with her cousins to the fullness of the moons. He respects the creature she keeps inside. The woman, however, he loves with a passion he's never doubted.

  The sight of her naked and golden against the winter landscape makes him ache. He blinks and sees her wolf standing proud and strong on the mountain path, its gaze intent on the far horizon.

  "Take care, my love."

  He speaks softly. She will never know what he endures when she's out of his sight. Only the relief he feels when she returns—that he finds impossible to hide. He will wait for her as always on the steps of the hut, watching the trees for the familiar smudge of fur, the bright eyes that miss nothing. When the wolf is a speck on the high slopes, he threads his way through the woods, past the place where Tian's mother rests. The grave is cleared of snow, the mourning stones arranged to help the mortal on her journey to the Paradise she so deserved. Tomorrow, they will lay an extra stone and then start the long journey to Wolf's Valley.

  He frowns and crouches to inspect the largest stone placed at the head. Turned to face the north, but with no signs of recent digging, no disturbed earth.

  "A neat trick, don't you think?"

  Jarek?

  The sound locks him in place. A voice from his nightmares—not here, surely? Jarek is dead. Tian killed him. Wary, he slides a hand to the short sword buckled at his hip. The hairs on his nape prickle and rise. From the corner of his eye, he sees movement in the shadows. His fingers tighten on the hilt.

  "Show yourself.” Too tall for Tian. It can't be her. She would never lurk, or stalk like this. He raises the sword. Calls again. “Who's there? Come out, slowly."

  "Is this any way to treat your father in law?” Jarek steps out from behind the thick trunk of a larch. Saunters towards him, brushing away the sword with a wave of his hand. The blade quivers and drops to the ground. Only now does Sol notice the small metal disc tucked into Jarek's palm. The man flicks back lank strands of hair, curves his lips into a half-smile.

  "How?” Sol eyes his sword. The blade, lying at his feet, is vibrating with the force of the magic.

  "Same way as you, I imagine.” Jarek tosses the talisman into the air. Snatches it as it falls. “New lease of life, courtesy of our beloved Goddess."

  Discretely, Sol scans the trees for signs of the wolf. “Tian said she'd killed you."

  Jarek shrugs. “What can I say? She couldn't do it and she certainly didn't trust you to finish the job. I've come for my daughter."

  "She belongs to me, now. We married."

  "Well, the law will have something to say about that. Where is she?"

  Sol lunges, grabbing for the sword. The white-hot hilt sears his palm. “Bastard,” he cries and throws himself at Jarek, toppling him to the ground. Between them, the talisman forms a shield that easily repels his attempts to pummel Jarek into dust.

  "I should have plunged my dagger into your heart all those years ago. It's time to end this.” Sol rolls and flips himself upright. Brings his booted foot down hard onto Jarek's hand. The man glares at him, defiant, confident.

  "I already have her, Sol. Caught the wolf on the mountain. Caged and ready to go. Just one more thing to do before we leave."

  Sol grinds his heel into Jarek's fist. Hand and boot sink into the muddy snow. “Yes, for you to die.” It's time, Sol thinks. To end this once and for all.

  "Zanir atima.” Jarek grinds out the words. The magic hits Sol full-force, throwing him backwards across the clearing. Jarek staggers to his feet.

  "I made the stone move to anchor my miserable bitch of a wife between worlds where she belongs. Of course, remote magic is a lot easier now I have my talisman. And fully charged, too, care of my beautiful daughter."

  "Did she shrive you?"

  "Cleanse my soul? Oh yes.” He beats a hand to his chest. “All shiny and new."

  Sol bares his teeth. Flexes his fingers. “That's a shame. You deserve no less than the Pit of Hell."

  "You can't touch me, Sol.” He steps back and raises the hand holding the talisman. “This holds more power than you'll ever know. And the Goddess gave it back to me. Ironic, don't you think?"

  "Not in the slightest.” Sol mirrors the gesture, calling down the force of heaven itself upon his hated enemy. “You said I would restore my honour,” he calls to the sky. “You promised I'd earned that right. Well, I demand my due.” He tips back his head, bunches his fist. “A fair fight on a level field. It's all I ask."

  "You think our wonderful Goddess cares? Man must help himself, for the Gods never will."

  "You're wrong. She hears me. Can't you feel it? My time has come. Say your prayers, Jarek. You'll be needing them."

  The scorn withers away. Jarek lowers his fist and stares at the talisman, face crumpling. All he now holds is a lifeless piece of metal.

  "If you kill me, Tian will starve to death before you find her. Let me go and I'll tell you where she is."

  "You're lying.” Jarek's face is blank, impossible to read. Sol schools his own features, taking care not to glance at the gap in the trees through which Tian might appear at any moment.

  "Am I? You really want to risk it?"

  Oh Goddess. Sol bites back a curse. In the heavens, the Gods would be watching, betting on his next move. With Tian in the mix, it could only be in one direction.

  "What are you waiting for? Pick it up.” Jarek tilts his chin at the sword lying in the grass. “Or perhaps you'd prefer to use this?” With a flick of the wrist he plucks the blast-gun from his belt and tosses it to Sol. “Which is it to be?"

  The gun is already arming, warming in Sol's palm, ready to fire. A simple press of his trigger finger and honour will be satisfied. The nightmare ended. And perhaps another begun?

  "I'm walking away.” Jarek's words are slow and deliberate. The words of one balancing on a tightrope over an endless drop. “When I'm out of range, I'll shout you where she is. Deal?"

  He could kill the man now. Hit him square in the chest. Stand and watch his flesh burn and shrivel from his body.

  "Deal. Start walking."

  Jarek favours him with one last pitying glance. “One day, when you least expect, I'll return.” A last twist of the knife. A wave, as if they were friends parting after an afternoon spent reminiscing over good times.

  Sol keeps a bead on Jarek's retreating back, his trigger-finger rigid with the effort of holding it in place. Over the man's shoulder, through the gap in the trees, he sees a blur of movement on the lower slopes of the mountain. Dark fur, streaking along the winding path.

  "Bastard son of a thousand whores."

  In the time it takes Sol to speak, Jarek ducks and takes off at speed into the woods. Sol stops only to scoop up the talisman and suck in a deep, even breath. Jarek's reign of terror ends this day.

  Fitting that he finds Jarek at the edge of the ravine, chest heaving, the spark of defiance still glowing in his bright eyes. A man with nowhere left to go.

  "Does Tian know you're here?"

  "I have her caged. Or course she knows."

  "I saw her wolf on the mountain, Jarek. Free. You lie, as always."

  Jarek folds his arms, cocks his head. “You're
sure it was her?” He chuckles at Sol's uncertainty. “Ahh, you're not a killer. Never were and never will be. My daughter on the other hand—"

  "Fight me, now. Man to man.” Sol disarms the blast-gun and tosses it away. Pulls off his coat and throws it after the gun. “One of us lives, one of us dies."

  "You mean, I live and you die?” Jarek favours him with a long, slow appraisal. “Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you? Size means nothing. Have you not learned that lesson?"

  "I need no lessons from you, old man."

  One blow will send him over the edge. Sol charges, dipping low. Rolls and grabs Jarek's legs. Fighting for his life, Jarek is more slippery than un-worked clay. Jamming a boot in Sol's face he slithers away, crawling on his belly like a snake, kicking in an attempt to send Sol to his Gods. But Sol has walked this road before and it will not happen again. His body moves with cool precision, his mind is focussed. It was Tian he saw on the ridge, not another wolf. Twisting, he flips Jarek towards the edge. The man slithers, rolls and disappears.

  At the last moment, Sol throws out an arm to stop the fall, and misses.

  By accident or deliberately, he will never know.

  * * * *

  Sharp senses pick up the change in his aura, the slight tremor in his voice. Something is different. A scent not his own on his skin. His hands roam restlessly over her back, her hair. He kisses her until she is unable to breath.

  "Did you have a good run?"

  She takes a discrete sniff. Jarek? It can't be.

  It's him, Tian. The wolf creeps forward for another sniff. All over Sol. How?

  I don't know. Jarek should be dead.

  Unless he used the talisman.

  "Hey, dreamer.” A hand wafts before her eyes. “Did you have a good run?"

  "What? Yes. You?"

  "Me, what?"

  "How did you spend your time?"

  "Oh.” Sol shrugs. “Took a walk. Bit of this, bit of that."

  "You smell of Jarek."

  The words fall from her lips before she can stop them. Sol tenses, turns away.

 

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