Merlin's Kiss

by Stephanie Burke

  "No, your appetite is going to be the death of you, my friend," Brieana laughed, shaking off her dark musings as she decided to find Kerian. "Now let us go and seek Kerian, before he disappears again."

  * * * * *

  Closing the door to her inner chambers, Shala allowed distaste to show across her face. Her golden brown eyes narrowed in anger as she gritted her teeth and rested her forehead against the wooden door of her abode.

  "What does this girl have to do with my plans? Why can I not get near the little bitch without feeling the warnings of that accursed necklace?"

  In blinding anger, she lashed out at the door with one slippered foot and failed to note the dark presence seating on a chair before her fireplace.

  "Mind your temper, my beauty, lest you prematurely age that wondrous face of yours."

  Shala sucked in a deep breath and fought to compose herself.

  "And just when did you arrive?" she asked as she straightened her gown and smoothed her hair before turning to face the creature sitting in wait for her. "And how did you breach my defenses?"

  As usual, the creature sat in the shadows, having extinguished all of the candles in the room, save for the few that graced the entrance of her room. He seemed to love the shadows and loved to incite fear by operating behind a menacing dim light that they provided.

  If she peered closely, she could make out a large humanoid shape that seemed oddly distorted. Again she wondered if she should be thankful that the disgusting thing that was her ally did prefer the dark.

  "Your little…safeguards were amusing child's play to one of my nature, Shala. You should know by now that I can easily overcome any spells that you attempt to use against me. Besides, is that any way to treat such an honored guest such as myself? You should not have gone through all of that trouble on my account."

  "State your business, Dagon, and let us put aside this pretense."

  "As you wish, gracious Lady."

  He watched her with yellow glowing eyes as she gracefully walked deeper into the dim light of the room. He smiled as he noted her displeasure at his unexpected visit. But she had no reason to protest his visit. She needed him and what he could give her.

  "My people are waiting for a word from me, Shala. All is in readiness and shall proceed according to plan."

  "Good. I want that miserable bastard dead!"

  "How sweet. Your maternal concerns touch a hidden cord within my bosom, Lady. Your tender affections threaten to overwhelm me." His low laugh sent shivers of fear and anger down her spine.

  "Your emotions are not a concern of mine, Dagon, but we seem to have a slight problem."

  "Problem?" The coldness of that one word made the skin on her neck crawl, but she fought down her fears and responded.

  "There is an added complication. There is true magic here, Dagon, magic even more powerful than anything that I have ever sensed emanating from you."

  "And where is this new untapped source of energy, my Lady?" Although he seemed to have remained in his relaxed pose, she could tell that his whole attention was now fixed upon her.

  "A useless vagabond wandered into Kerian's presence and the soft fool took her in. I was going to eliminate her and that disgusting drack that follows her, but she possesses a magic that I have never felt before. It repelled me, Dagon."

  "What is the source, Shala? Do not mince words with me."

  "It is around her neck, Dagon. She wears a strange jeweled necklace. That is the source of her powers."

  "So, kill her and take it." Dagon waved his hand as if the matter was a small trifle, and not to be concerned about.

  "Are you not listening to me? It repelled me, Dagon. I am the most powerful mystic on this isle and it repelled me!"

  "You are not much of a mystic to begin with, my dear," he snorted as he relaxed again into his seat.

  "You still do not understand, Dagon!" Agitated she began to pace the dimly lit room. "How can I possess this magic if I cannot get near enough to take it? Any mystic knows that any protective amulet cannot be removed unless the wearer is dead. How can I kill her if I cannot touch her? The spells that you…gifted me with, do not work! She will require a personal touch after I discover where she has come from."

  "Your magic is weak, Shala, and always has been. You are only as good as the twisted thoughts that emerge from your pretty head and the thing that rests between your thighs! I will rid you of the little girl, so you need not feel threatened any longer. But still, you owe me the agreed upon price. And if you try to use any magical tricks gained from the possession of this amulet, I will return, and your shrieks of agony will echo over this land that you love— your fate will be the fate of your people for generations to come. Do you understand me, my beauty?"

  "I understand, Dagon! I understand pure uncorrupted magic. And when it is in my possession, you will regret your words!"

  Then all that she heard was the thump of the chair as it hit the carpeted floor. In a blur of movement so fast it was almost undetectable by the naked eye, Dagon swooped across the room, his dark power extinguishing candles in his wake. Before she could draw another breath, cold taloned hands gripped the delicate flesh of her slender neck and lifted her clear off of the floor.

  "Guard your tongue, witch. All that you have has been given to you by me, and I can easily take it away from you along with your life. Your fool plan did not work years ago and those drackoons you loathe so well protected the heir. Because of you and your scheming, I had to wait for this time to extend my grasp on this stinking wasteland of a planet. If you try to cross me, Shala, I will kill you, pure power or no. Do you understand me, my lovely?"

  Shala fought for every breath as small gurgles of distress escaped from her restricted throat. Her hands uselessly clutched at the fingers that held her suspended above the floor. Eyes wide in true terror, she managed to express her acquiescence and Dagon slowly released her to drop into a quivering heap at his feet.

  Bending low, he lifted her chin with one curved talon, gently brushing the hair from her face with the other hand.

  "I do so hate to use force with my lessons, my sweet, but you must understand my position."

  He drew her face to his and a cold wet tongue traced a path across the heated flesh of her face and withdrew before touching her lips.

  Shala shuddered at the feel of his rough tongue caressing her skin, shuddered in both disgust and arousal.

  She stared as his yellow eyes melted into a red so bright it was almost demonic.

  His long dark hair fell around her face, shielding her from the outside, creating a dark tunnel from which his eerily angry eyes glittered.

  She felt his taloned hand dig deeper into her skin and whimpered at the remembered feel of that claw digging into the flesh of her hips, raising and lowering her, demanding that she take more of him.

  She stared up into his red eyes and shuddered at how close he came to possessing her soul.

  "Do not try to deceive me or play me false, Shala. I offer you the chance to redeem yourself and rule these lands as you see fit. Do not make me regret my decision."

  In a flurry of movement, he was gone.

  Shala sat on the floor of the dark chamber, fighting to regain control of her gasping breath and pounding heart. With one shaking hand, she reached up and wiped the wet residue from his tongue off of her face, anger turning her brown eyes red.

  "I understand you, Dagon. And when I possess pure magic, I shall take you and your devilish minions and send you all straight to the hell you escaped from! This I vow with my last breath!"

  Chapter Four

  "Kerian!"

  Brieana's voice carried across the rocky ledge to the man seated on the boulder, staring across the land to the great expanse of the Dark Mountains. He turned and watched the small woman running towards him with her drack companion. He noted the long fall of her dark hair trailing behind her and the gentle sway of her unbound breasts against the brown leather of her tunic as she drew near.

&
nbsp; He also noted the skittish approach of the drack, which kept the woman between the two of them, as if she could protect him.

  With a curse, he turned his head back towards the mountains as the source of all his recent troubles approached him.

  "Kerian." Her voice sounded a bit breathless as she stepped closer to his rock perch. "What are you doing here, all alone?"

  "I am thinking, Brieana." He tried to keep his voice cold and distant, but her mere presence was melting his icy resolve not to interact with this female.

  "Of what, may I ask?" She gingerly positioned herself on the stone beside him while Zorn immediately skittered to her side, peering at him over her shoulder.

  Noticing the look that he was getting from the youthling, he replied, "Of my winter wardrobe, Brieana. Of what color chum's wool tunic I will have made to match purple leather."

  Zorn gulped and ducked his head out of sight behind the boulder, poking one eye up to see if the great Warlord made any move towards him.

  "Stop that!"

  At her sharp tone of voice, Kerian turned to her and raised one silvery eyebrow.

  "You are scaring him, Kerian. Zorn has been a great comfort to me over these past few days."

  "A comfort, Brieana? This walking appetite has been a comfort to you? What has caused you unease?"

  For a moment, Brieana seriously considered telling Kerian about the unsettling feelings that she got whenever his stepmother was present, but she decided again that they were just feelings of jealousy she felt. Shala was a beautiful woman; self assured and confident in her place, unlike herself who still did not know where she fit in, in this different, yet so similar new world.

  "I do not know," she finally answered.

  Gentle breezes lifted her curling hair and blew tendrils of it across her face. Kerian watched as she, in an unconsciously sensual movement, lifted her face into the light wind and closed her eyes, almost moaning in her enjoyment of the cool air.

  Kerian felt a tingling sensation below his waist that signaled the beginnings of his erection, one that he would not be able to hide from either her or her pet drack.

  Bending at the waist, he made an effort to cover up his burgeoning maleness, before he embarrassed himself.

  Brieana watched as Kerian's straight white hair fell forward, obscuring his face and hiding him from her now attentive view.

  "Are you in pain, Kerian? You were not hurt during your mock battle?"

  "No," he nearly growled, which was odd for him.

  Kerian was the most composed man that she had ever met. Even Merlin had been known to give into a fit of frustrated shouting when Arthur did something particularly inane, but not Kerian, her ordained mate.

  "Then what is troubling you? Even the Lady Shala commented on your unusually reticent nature."

  Thinking up ways to torture me, he is, my Lady! Zorn cried. Contemplating making leggings, he is, from my unworthy hide.

  "Kerian, you would not harm Zorn?" Brieana asked, looking between the cowering drack and the still man.

  "Leave me, Brieana," he flatly stated.

  What was wrong with him? Why was he in such a dark mood?

  Concerned, Brieana reached out her hand to touch his shoulder, and recoiled at the heat that she felt.

  "Kerian?"

  "Take that accursed youthling and go! Go before something happens that both you and I will regret!"

  "Go where?" Brieana's concern swiftly turned to anger. How dare this man speak to her in such a tone! She knew that she held no power here, but she demanded the respect that other women got in this strange new world! She would not be ordered around like a child!

  "Where shall I go, Warlord? To the forests that everyone tells me that I cannot explore? To the mountains that everyone claims are too dangerous for me? Or shall I go back to where I came from? Find me a passage back to my home, and I will gladly leave you this day! Do you think that I enjoy being treated like a little girl, Kerian? I was a warrior in my time, a fierce fighter! I was a queen! Now look at me! Look at me!" she screamed as he continued to study the ground between his feet. "I am a woman full grown and I demand to be treated with respect!"

  Kerian slowly raised his head, his unbound hair flowing backwards to rest against his bronze shoulders, as he took in the angry woman before him. In her anger, she had risen to her feet and stood in a battle stance, her hair so at odds with her temper, flowing gently in the breeze. Her chest heaved, again drawing attention to her breasts and her face reddened with her flash of temper. Her green eyes glowed, and the exotic shade made her all the more beautifully exotic in her anger.

  "What do you see, warrior?" she rasped in a dark tone. "What do you see when you look at me?"

  "Trouble."

  With that, he rose rather stiffly to his feet and left her standing there in front of his boulder, with the cowering drack. But the drack was not cowering. He was eyeing them both with something akin to speculation in his eyes.

  Chapter Five

  "What do you mean, we are going on a journey?"

  Brieana was stunned at Kerian's announcement. After he had left her in the field of rocks, she had stayed there until her temper cooled and then made her way back to Mirage.

  As she looked back on the confrontation, she decided that Kerian was a bit stubborn, but that was a trait that made for great leaders. She had been accused of being a bit stubborn herself, many times.

  But when she began to recall his face, so calm and still, devoid of emotions, she was suddenly plagued with the idea of ripping off that facade of calm and exposing the real emotions that lay underneath. The more she thought on it, the more appealing the idea became.

  Now she looked up at him as he loomed over her in the dining hall, and patiently waited for his answer.

  "I am going to rid myself of at least one potential problem."

  "Brieana is no problem, Kerian. Please remember your manners, do." Shala interjected from her seat beside Brieana.

  When her stepson had entered the long dining hall, Shala knew that he had come to some conclusion about the woman. She would not allow her stepson to be rid of the girl until she possessed that necklace and the powers that came with it.

  As he had approached the raised dais where the long wooden table sat, with determination in his stride, Shala had realized that she might have to defend the little witch that she wanted to destroy.

  "Me?" Brieana asked, drawing stares from the assorted people seated at the table. "I am a problem?"

  "You are not my problem. I will not let you become one. That is the problem."

  He pointed to a corner where the drack sat comfortably by an empty fireplace, warily eyeing the two in conversation.

  "You are going to murder Zorn?" Brieana half rose from her seat as she stared open mouthed at the man in front of her.

  Murder! the drack shrieked with a sound heard by all. In a flash, he shot across the room pell-mell, knocking over a cook's assistant bearing a large tray of hot fruit- filled sweet cakes, causing them to fly across the room like miniature cannonballs.

  Amid shrieks of outrage from the assistant and the many people splattered with the hot syrupy fillings, Zorn raced back and forth, causing chaos wherever his wildly flapping wings managed to strike.

  Kerian watched in stupefaction as a candle-stand went flying into the lap of one of his best warriors catching his pale beard on fire. As the reasonably frightened man jumped to his feet, he knocked over the table, dousing his eating companions with roasted chum, steamed vegetables, red wine, and of course, the fruit pastries.

  There was another shriek as the man, stumbling to a nearby wash basin to douse the flames in his facial hair, knocked over another bunch of fruit-coated warriors, rendering one man unconscious as his head cracked against the stone floor, and causing his best runner to shriek in pain as several fighters fell onto her prized feet, breaking a toe.

  But the mayhem did not stop there! In an effort to help his flaming and smoking comrade, another warr
ior picked up a basin of wash water, tossing it from across the room in an attempt to douse the flames, but missed and instead doused the people seated at the high table, Kerian included.

  At the sound of Shala's disgusted shriek, the room quieted. Even Zorn found a spot, cowering behind one of the previously spotless tapestries that hung on the wall behind the high table.

  Brieana, still in her half risen position, blinked the water from her eyes as she slowly pushed her mass of sopping hair out of her face. She looked wide-eyed at the destruction of the once pristine room, in amazement. The room had been completely destroyed in less that a minute. The human torch had managed to put out the flames, but now stood in a sodden puddle after dumping the whole wash basin of water over his head. His beard still smoldered as his eyes shot death to the drack behind the high table. A whimpering woman was seated on a table, sans her leather running slipper, clutching her foot and moaning that she would never run again. The unconscious man was placed on what remained of a broken table and carried from the room to the infirmary. She turned her eyes then to Kerian.

  The greatest Warlord Mirage had ever spawned, stood in a puddle of dirty water, his long silvery-white hair a sodden tangled mess that constantly dripped dank water. His favored brown leather vest lay plastered to his broad chest and his pants adhered to his rock hard thighs like a second skin, exposing every muscle of his legs. Her mouth went surprisingly dry, considering her soaking wet state, at the sight of his body exposed body, but went even dryer when her eyes reached his face.

  For a man who let no expression cross his face, he was doing a good imitation of anger. No, more like rampaging anger heralding the approach of some great disaster. His eyes, so slanted down into furious slits, beamed amber death at Zorn while his face, usually so serene, was screwed up into an attitude of complete and utter hostility. Brieana was surprised that the heat of his anger did not evaporate the rivulets of water streaming down his visage. His wrath, felt by all in the subdued room, was a palatable thing.