The Golden Key Legacy

by AJ Nuest

  The guards peeled off, giving him a wide berth as Rhys strode for the exit. Grabbing the handle, he glanced over his shoulder to find Vaighn shoving to his hands and knees. “Try to remember that when I see you tonight… at dinner.”

  With a parting glare around the room, Rhys pushed through the doorway and left.

  Chapter 5

  The steady cadence of a determined stride echoed down the long corridor, and Faedrah lifted her gaze from the floor. Rhys. Though he had not yet entered the banquet hall, the strike of his boot heels were as familiar to her as the beat of her heart.

  She smoothed down the folds of her deep red gown and then cursed her trembling fingers. ʼTwas restlessness over the night’s festivities… her desperate longing to ascertain her beloved remained sound in body and spirit, nothing more. If any concerns passed between them this eve, ʼtwould be for him. The pangs he surely endured chained within the castle dungeons far exceeded the terrors she’d suffered these past three nights. Though fatigued nearly beyond reason, she would do her utmost to convince him all was well.

  Filling her lungs to their fullest extent, she straightened the delicate lace edging along her wrists, fidgeted with the ruby beads sewn across the top of her corset. She would not act the swooning maiden whilst Rhys was near.

  “I daresay you’re as skittish as a church mouse.” Vaighn sauntered to a stop where she stood before the open terrace doors, shaking his head with a chuckle. “The man has lamented your absence for three days. Have faith, Princess. The fit of your gown will be the furthest thing from his mind.”

  Heat leached up her neck, yet she shot Vaighn an icy scowl. If only the mere impression of her attire encompassed the totality of her worries. “You do not know him.” It had been a fool’s errand trying to conceal the dark smudges below her eyes, the ashen pallor of her cheeks. She twirled the golden chain around her neck and the key flipped inside the safety of her cleavage. “Rhys is sure to take one look upon my face and determine with uncanny accuracy the severity of my exhaustion.”

  The footsteps ceased and Faedrah hesitated, forestalling the urge to turn lest her beloved take issue with her appearance. The heat of his gaze tingled along the side of her cheek, down her throat and the slope of her bare shoulder.

  Yes… Her lashes fluttered, her heartbeat slowed as the potency of his stare traversed the distance and seeped into her form. At last, at last, he was here.

  “Oh, I know him well enough.” Her brother tipped his head toward the hall’s wide double archway, a royal guard standing in full dress regalia to either side of the open doors. “Speak of the devil and he doth appear.”

  And still, she waited, her breath sliding easy and free through her lungs for the first in three days… basking in the strength of his presence, gathering the power of him from across the room and clasping it close to her heart. Goddesses wept. Simply occupying the same space with him made her terrors flee, as if everything she feared shrank and faded under the influence of his attendance, alone.

  Denmar turned from his private discussion with the king and queen and crossed his thick arms, one eyebrow cocked in calculating assessment of her lover’s appearance. Conversations trailed off as two council members followed the captain’s steely stare toward the banquet hall entrance. Councilman D’Anthe pressed a lace-edged kerchief to his mouth and withdrew a step. Artemis Vlandross smacked a palm to his chest and paled.

  Faedrah smirked, her hair whispering across her back with the subtle shake of her head. Had they assumed the son of Gaelleod would appear as a shy, reticent devotee? She turned to Rhys with a smile. What incompetent foo—

  Her shoulders wrenched, and her brother grunted in amusement at her side. Sweet tits, the man all but kindled the atmosphere in the room. Energy crackled in the air about him, bolstered by the sheer magnitude of his confidence and wrath. For all her preparedness, ʼtwas as if a sunlit cloud had burst through the doors and a lightning bolt had struck the floor to announce Rhys’ arrival.

  Black leather encased his body from shoulder to boot, the sides of his waistcoat flipped closed and cinched with a plain silver buckle. The snug fit of his attire pulled taut across the span of his chest, his trim hips and the thick tension in his upper thighs. Yet ʼtwas the absence of a shirt which granted her full view of each defined curve in his arms, and made her palms greedy to bathe in the heat of his skin beneath the deep leather V arrowing down to his stomach.

  Wide silver vambraces adorned his forearms, etched with the sigil of his signature, though how he’d managed to pry them on without a hinge and clasp remained an utter mystery.

  A thrill coursed her skin as he set foot in her direction, the smoldering jade embers in his gaze holding her rapt to the floor. And yet, at once, the need to race across the room, to leap into his arms and experience the hard planes of his chest pressed against her breasts, grew to such intensity, she stepped forward to more quickly close the distance.

  “No.” Vaighn seized her elbow and pulled her back to his side. “Let him come to you. You are our kingdom’s future queen, and too many meddling eyes would eagerly condemn your refusal to show the son of Gaelleod his proper place.”

  Faedrah scowled at such a ridiculous notion, yet a quick glance about the room confirmed her brother was correct. In the name of diplomacy, her father had insisted the senior most council members and their wives be present during the evening’s festivities—an opportunity to provide the commonwealth a voice before any decisions had been made. Some of their expressions held candid fascination, others a hint of something more sinister should she falter in the slightest at upholding her duty to the crown.

  Anger scored the inside of her chest, tainted by the sour bite of indignation. Whilst she craved the firm band of Rhys’ arms, longed to meet his lips in a long-awaited kiss, the attendees inside this room held her to some lofty ideal she was hard-pressed to achieve.

  She refocused on her beloved, fisting her hands as he neared. For all the goddesses in paradise, what woman wouldn’t melt under the dark perusal of such a heated stare? What courtier of the female persuasion would deny a man of his mouth-watering temptations an invitation into her bed… if only to languish under the glorious control of his tormenting kiss?

  He squinted, yet whether in response to the weariness etched upon her face or her aggravation over being detained by protocol, she had not a clue.

  Vaighn released her and edged slightly in front as Rhys stopped but an arm’s length away. Her jaw firmed as she fought to inquire what, in all of Helios’ bright reign, her brother thought he was doing.

  Everyone present fully understood protecting her was his sworn duty. As her elder sibling and the senior-most member of the royal guard, he had every right to determine the quality of any man who petitioned an audience with the woman who stood first in line to the Austiere throne. Still and thus, had the three of them been in the sparring room, she would have whacked him over the head with one of her short swords before shoving him out of the way.

  With a slow tip of his head, Rhys shifted his attention to her brother. He edged his weight onto one hip and a raised vein bulged in his biceps as he crossed his arms. “You got something to say?”

  As a way of reply, Vaighn offered his hand in greeting, and the surprise which shot Rhys’ brows heavenward was an exact replica of the amazement skipping through her head. One did not… under the most dire of circumstances… freely clasp arms with a wizard. Especially one of Rhys’ limitless abilities. Unless, of course, a bond of deepest trust thwarted the slightest indication of any harm.

  Rhys lifted his gaze from Vaighn’s open hand to his face. His eyes narrowed in suspicion, and Faedrah would have given her seat upon the throne to know what passed between them in the silence which ensued.

  Three heartbeats pounded in her ears before Rhys unlocked his arms and grasped Vaighn’s forearm in a hearty handshake, though he did not smile, and an uneasy friction thickened the air between them.

  “This afternoon’s match
was well played, Wizard.” Vaighn cleared his throat, placing his free hand on Rhys’ shoulder.

  Faedrah frowned. What match?

  Her beloved’s eyes locked on hers, a mischievous spark dancing in their depths as Vaighn urged him near. “Nevertheless, if you embarrass my sister…” he whispered, fingertips whitening against the black leather of Rhys’ waistcoat. “If you take action which mars her reputation or your eye so much as twitches in another skirt’s direction, I shall make it my life’s ambition to ensure you never again ascend out of that hole. Do you fully comprehend my meaning?”

  One corner of Rhys’ lips curled in a sly smile. “I do.”

  And Faedrah did, as well. In stating as much, Vaighn had just granted them his blessing.

  The gratitude which swelled for her adoptive brother brought a sheen of warm tears to her eyes, and she returned Rhys’ smile, placing a hand on her brother’s back. “Thank you, Vaighn.”

  He nodded, withdrawing a step as he removed his grip from Rhys’ shoulder. A sidelong glance at her, and Vaighn tipped his head toward the open doors leading onto the terrace. “Perchance your reunion with the princess would be best accompanied by a breath of fresh air.”

  Turning toward the room, he was pulled up short when Rhys delayed the release of Vaighn’s arm. “For what it’s worth, I owe you one. I won’t forget this, Your Highness.”

  Her brother huffed. “Nor shall I, Wizard. Nor shall I.”

  He ambled off toward her parents, hands swinging with the easy gait of his stride. That was, until one of her handmaidens crossed before him, lips pursed in coy flirtation, and he veered after the girl at an increased pace.

  Rhys swung back around to face her and Faedrah boosted her chin, squinting at him through the fringe of her lashes. “What match?”

  “Later.” He grabbed her arm and spun her toward the terrace.

  Her feet tangled in her skirts at the quick rotation. Clumsy from lack of proper sleep, she stumbled and fell into the unyielding tower of Rhys’ shoulder. He pivoted, scooped her into his arms and, amid a cascade of shocked gasps, strode through the open doors and carried her down the veranda, well out of earshot and devoid of curious stares in the hall.

  The moment her feet touched ground, he captured her lips with his. His fingers dove into her hair with the same urgency he thrust his tongue into her mouth… as if his hunger for her could no longer wait to be sated. As if his desire to be inside her would tolerate not one more moment’s delay.

  She sighed as the magnetic taste of him flooded her senses, shuddered beneath him as the potency of his kiss slid hot and sleek through her veins. Banding one arm about her waist, he jerked her to his hips. A thrill burst in her stomach as the firm ridge of his arousal pressed her lower belly, coasting down her inner thighs into the soles of her feet. Swirling her tongue in time with his, she followed his lead as he angled her head, allowing him free reign to slake his thirst.

  His low growl vibrated against her lips. She wrapped her arms about his broad shoulders, fisted her fingers in his glossy hair. At once, a portion of his strength suffused her skin, gifting her deliverance.

  All her fears… all her weakness withered and died under the searing ecstasy of his kiss. She became lost in the flick of his tongue, the heat of his breath as it bathed her cheek, the force of his splayed hand pressing her back as he trailed opened-mouthed kisses down to the top of her corset.

  “Jesus H. Christ, you smell good.” The rasp of his beard cast an array of white, hot tingles into her breasts. She bit her bottom lip, squeezing her eyes tight as her nipples pebbled and ached against the unyielding constriction of her stays. “You taste like fucking Heaven.”

  Each spot his supple lips touched sparked and sizzled as if he somehow bathed her in his magic, the small dip between her collar bones, the side of her throat, the ticklish skin beneath the lobe of her ear.

  He balanced his forehead against hers and peered into her eyes, keeping her close and locked tight to his hips about the waist. “I missed you.”

  Heart fluttering with giddy excitement, she smiled and smoothed her palms up and down the rigid tension in his arms. “You’ve conveyed your misery over our parting quite soundly.”

  One of his hands met her cheek, his fingers threaded through her hair, and he eased away to run the tip of his thumb along the thin skin beneath her lower lashes. “So, what’s the plan for getting rid of your nightmares?”

  Her eyelids slipped closed and she shook her head. Whilst she’d no doubts one glance and he would read the measure of weariness upon her face, for him to pinpoint the cause of her suffering with such surety confirmed their profound connection had not waned in the slightest, and he rightly bore the title of a wizard of unsurpassed renown. “How is it you always fully comprehend what transpires in my head?”

  He chuckled, though his smile edged away almost as quickly as it had appeared. “I’ve been getting visions of you facing off against Gaelleod ever since Denmar tossed me in the pit. It just took me a couple days to figure out they always come at night, most likely while you’re sleeping.”

  She dropped her arms from around his shoulders and sighed, turned away and strode toward the balcony. That he’d been made to share her nightly sojourns into the terrors of Gaelleod’s cruelty settled on her shoulders like a yoke. Especially submerged in a place of such repulsiveness, a darkness so complete, Helios dared not show his face. “There is nothing to be done. The sleeping tonics only make matters worse, I’m afraid. Once taken, I’m unable to wake and escape the dark lord’s relentless pursuit.”

  “Dammit. Yeah, I thought something like that might happen.” He joined her at the railing and propped his hip against the side, standing close enough his left thigh heated the back of her leg through her skirts. His hand smoothed a weft of hair over her shoulder, down her side to her waist until he’d encircled her, once again, in his steady embrace. “All right, then what about the key? Have you tried taking it off to see if the two are connected?”

  She shook her head and placed a gentle kiss on his arm, turning her cheek to his shoulder. If he held her just so, perchance she could glean a few precious moments of uninterrupted slumber. She could rest safe and protected in his arms. “My mother suggested as much, but I fear not. Last eve, I removed the key and, in doing so, the veil closed. ʼTwas not a scant moment later, Gaelleod’s hold on me amplified to a shriek of unending rage. Almost as if, in shuttering the veil’s connection to your world, his strength in this realm multiplied thricefold, allowing him even more sway over my thoughts.”

  He flinched beside her and she lifted her head to find a thunderous tempest gathering in his gaze. “That son of a bitch.” A sardonic chuckle worked the muscles of his throat. “That asshole is funneling his power through the veil. From this time to the future. That has to be it. That explains how he was able to infiltrate your dreams there and why he’s so hell bent on getting the key. Here is where Leo’s always been the strongest, and he got his boxers got all wedged in a knot when you broke the connection.”

  She blinked as another, more terrifying, realization occurred. “And, perchance, this explains the black infestation invading our forest. Somehow, Gaelleod has found a way to leach the energy from the ground and send it back through time to aid in his quest for domination.”

  “Jesus Christ, Faedrah.” Rhys’ lips landed on the crown of her head and his deep exhalation warmed her hair. “Shit. That fucker’s got us right where he wants us.” He propped his chin atop her head and sighed. “Okay, let’s think about this logically for a second. The only time you didn’t have the nightmares was when you were at the warehouse. Maybe the answer is that you need to sleep with me.”

  She leaned away from him, searching his face, and then chuckled softly at the devilish way he bounced his brows. “I’d already considered as much… although it’s highly improbable sleep would merit our agenda, and the guards stationed outside your chamber door would most assuredly wag their tongues to every willing ear
regarding the shameless activities they’d overheard inside.”

  His hold on her tightened a degree. “And that would be bad?”

  She huffed, turning her face toward the muted gold and pink streaks searing the evening sky. Were the answer that simple, she would have joined him two nights hence, the opinion of her parents and ensuing rumors be damned. “You’re missing the point, my love. When at my uncles’ home, abed with you in their chambers, Gaelleod was still able to invade my slumber.” Her tired eyes fell closed for a brief moment. Sleep crept in along the periphery and she forced her lids open, her body jerking as she fought to remain awake. “As much as I would relish the security and… exhilaration found in your bed, I fear the answer is more complex than where, or in whose arms, I lay my head.”

  A rumble of discontent built in his chest and he curled his body around her, one hand cupping the side of her face, returning her cheek to his chest. “God dammit, it’s killing me the bastard is putting you through this. We’ve got to be missing a piece. There’s got to be something I can do to stop this from happening.”

  The last shining curve of Helios’ bright descent sparkled from between a deep crevasse in the surrounding mountainside and, with it, the horologist’s mallet struck the setting bell. A melodious chime rang outward from the tower, reverberating through the air with a song as smooth and melancholy as the onset of night.

  Not a heartbeat later, a lighter bell pealed through the open doors, announcing the commencement of the evening meal.

  Of course, Rhys would take it upon himself to divine the answer. Not one doubt lingered, he would labor tirelessly until her suffering had ceased. She placed her hand upon his chest, slipping her fingertips beneath the edge of his leather tunic to bask in the heat emanating from his skin. “’Tis of no matter now that I’ve returned to your arms. Truly. Your presence this eve allows me more comfort than I’ve partaken of since the moment we parted.”

  A shadow appeared in the square of light from the banquet hall and she peeked over the slope of Rhys’ shoulder to lock eyes with Vaighn.