Knight Avenged (Circle of Seven #2)
Page 35
Someone cleared his throat.
Henrik cringed. Ah hell. He’d lost track of time . . . and his comrades.
With a sigh, he lifted his cheek from atop Cosmina’s head and glanced over his shoulder. Jesus. ’Twas even worse than he thought. Standing in a semicircle behind him, boots planted and expressions set, his friends wore varying shades of what the hell? Henrik understood the surprise along with the charged pause. All the raised eyebrows too. He’d broken rank. Had gone half-mad in his quest to reach Cosmina in time. Add that to the fact he now stood holding her in the middle of the quad while his friends looked on and—aye, give the man a prize. His comrades’ astonishment made sense. He wasn’t, after all, the hugging kind. Open affection simply wasn’t his forte. Or at least, it hadn’t been . . .
Until he’d met Cosmina.
He met his friend’s gaze. “Give me a moment, Xavian.”
“Take all the time you need,” he said, understanding and more in his tone. The more wasn’t difficult to guess. His friend knew what it felt like to fall . . . to be deep in uncharted territory with a woman on his mind. “See to her. I’ll see to the rest. With the dragons in the air, the city will be locked down in less than an hour.”
True enough. White Temple might be large, but its design made defending the city easier than most. Throw in thick stone walls. Add on the square parapets rising like teeth across the battlements, then consider the double gatehouses complete with murder holes at each city entrance and—aye, a skeleton crew could not only man it, but hold it against an enemy for years. Not that three dragons qualified as a skeleton crew. The trio was a force unto themselves. One an incoming army wouldn’t survive, never mind defeat. And as Henrik watched Tareek fly overhead, wings spread wide, bloodred scales gleaming in the sunlight, his heartbeat slowed, and he felt himself unwind.
Finally. ’Twas about time.
Taut muscles relaxing, Henrik exhaled in a rush, thankful as tension loosed its grip one talon at a time. Rolling his shoulders, he held Xavian’s gaze and tipped his chin. The quick gesture carried a silent message. One wrapped in gratitude . . . sent by him, and received on cue by his friend. Xavian accepted his thanks with a nod. Seconds later, he was gone, leading the others across the courtyard, footfalls quiet, voice hushed as he doled out individual duties. As his comrades disappeared into the city, Henrik swung Cosmina into his arms.
She went rigid against him. “Hey.”
Her sharp tone lightened his mood. Ah, good. There she was . . . the smart-mouthed hellion he knew and loved. “Humor me, iubita. We need to talk and there are too many ears and eyes here.”
“Oh.” Brows drawn tight, her attention strayed to Nairobi and Cristobal.
“They’ll be fine.”
She stared at the pair an instant longer, then looked back at him. Green eyes brimming with uncertainty met his. The impact hit him like a sucker punch, knocking the wind out of him. He went stone-still, wanting to say more, needing to explain. The compulsion to convince her nearly overwhelmed him. He forced himself to remain still instead, waiting for her to decide. Stay or go. Run away and hide . . . or hear him out. ’Twas her call. Not his. He couldn’t force her to listen. He didn’t deserve a second chance, not after the way he’d betrayed her in the Limwoods. But as the silence stretched, nerves got the better of him. His chest went tight. Henrik swallowed, combating the burn as pressure squeezed around his torso.
Jesus help him. Mayhap it was too late. Mayhap he couldn’t fix it. Mayhap having her in his life was too much to—
“All right then,” she said, voice so soft he barely heard her. And yet, it restored his faith, making him believe, infecting him with the possibility forgiveness existed a conversation away. Buoyed by the prospect, his gaze strayed to her mouth. Desire slammed through him. Unable to help himself, he leaned in. A quick kiss. Just one taste. ’Twas all he needed. But as he got close, Cosmina denied him, pressing her finger to his lips, shaking her head, warning him with a look. Looping her arm around his neck, she pointed to a building beyond the courtyard’s half wall. “Talk first. The shoemaker’s cottage is closest.”
Cradling Cosmina against him, Henrik nodded, then put his feet to good use, and got moving. No time to waste. She’d agree to talk. He accepted the terms—no kissing until she allowed it. He could live with that. At least, for a little while. Pace even, he crossed the quad, skirted the wall, and stopped in front of the cottage door. Juggling her in his arms, he palmed the peg doubling as a handle. He lifted it free of its cradle. Wood scraped against wood. Neglected hinges squeaked as the door swung wide. Dipping his head beneath the lintel, he strode over the threshold and into a cobbler’s paradise.
Tools lined the walls. Shoe molds sat in deep wooden bins, sharp tacks in shallower ones. Rolls of felt were stacked in one corner. Piles of tanned leather lay scattered in another, as though the shopkeeper had left in a hurry. No doubt close to the truth. The desertion of White Temple after Ylenia’s death hadn’t made for a tidy retreat. More of a mass exodus, by all accounts. So aye, the mess made perfect sense. So did the dust on the large table occupying the center of the room. Stepping over a pair of abandoned clogs, Henrik headed straight for it. Cosmina tensed as he set her down on the table edge. Taking the cue, trying to respect her space, he backed up a step.
“Nay,” she whispered. “You don’t get to back away, Henrik. Not yet.”
Henrik blinked in surprise.
Hooking her calf behind his thigh, Cosmina brought him back, keeping him close, refusing to allow his retreat . . . messing with his head as she wrapped both of her legs around one of his. Her heat bled through his leather trews. Desire went on the rampage, elevating need until he throbbed with it. Taut muscles pulled at his hip bones. Unable to stop himself, he reached for her hips, pulling her closer as she raised her hand. Gentle and sure, her fingertips touched down, then drifted, tracing his cheekbone.
“You came back.” Her voice shook a little. Swallowing hard, she cleared her throat. “I didn’t think you would.”
That made two of them. “I tried so hard to stay away, but . . .”
She raised a brow, asking without words.
Henrik gave it up without a fight. “I want you too much. I can’t stay away.”
“Good to know,” she said, nearly breaking his heart. Jesus. For all her strength, she looked so vulnerable right now. “I seem to have a similar problem when it comes to you.” She frowned. Her fingers stilled, then drew a gentle circle on his temple. “I could live without you, Henrik. I am strong enough to go on without you if need be, so be honest. Tell me true . . .”
She paused, her hesitation palpable.
“Ask,” he said, heart thumping, hope rising. “Ask me anything.”
“Did you mean it?” Looking worried, she released a shaky breath. “What you wrote in your note . . . did you mean it?”
“Every word. Every last one.” Cupping her hand with his own, he turned his mouth into her palm. “I love you, Cosmina. I want to stay and build a life with you. I don’t care where we live—here, Drachaven, the Limwoods. It doesn’t matter. Please forgive me. Please take me back. Please be mine, iubita. I need you too much to ever let you go.”
“’Tis forgiven . . . forgotten.” Fingers playing with the hair at his nape, she tugged, bringing him even closer. Nestled against him, she whispered, “I love you too, Henrik.”
“Then you’ll have me as husband?” Bumping her cheek with his own, he turned his head and stole the kiss he craved. It wasn’t much. The barest brush of his mouth against hers. Not even close to what he wanted, but ’twas enough for now. Raising his head, he met her gaze, trying to gauge her reaction and his chances of success. A pang tightened his chest as tears pooled in her eyes. So strong, yet undeniably soft too. She was a gift. One he didn’t deserve, but he couldn’t resist. “Will you wed me, Cosmina?”
“Anywhere. Anytime,” she said, smiling through her tears. “Just tell me when.”
Awe circled deep as
gratitude hit hard. Inconceivable. Mind-boggling in so many ways, but he saw the truth in her eyes. She loved him. His throat went tight. He was lucky. So goddamned lucky to have found her. To be loved. To be accepted. To be wanted, valued, and needed. Naught compared to that, and as he set his mouth to hers—and she opened to accept him—Henrik thanked God for his good fortune and pressed deeper. Cosmina responded, tangling her tongue with his. Hot. Wet. Delicious. He accepted everything she gave, then demanded more. Kissed her hard. Skimmed over her curves. Craved without conscience as she caressed him back, pushing him past arousal into explosive need.
Breathing hard, he lifted his mouth from hers.
She grumbled, protesting his retreat.
“Goddamn, I want you.” Sucking in a desperate breath, his love for her spilling into uncontrollable desire, Henrik looked around the cottage. Shit. Of all the rotten luck. No cot shoved into any of the corners. Nothing soft to lay her down on at all. “I cannot wait, Cosmina. We need a bed.”
Eyes full of mischief, her mouth curved. “Well then, lucky for you . . .” Trailing off, she fingered the links of her necklace. With a tug, she pulled the delicate chain from beneath her tunic. Impishness blooming into a full-blown grin, she rocked her hand, making the chain—and what it carried—swing like a pendulum between them. “I have the key that unlocks every door inside White Temple.”
“Keeper of the Key,” he said, leaning in for another kiss.
Both hands buried in his hair, she nipped his bottom lip. “It does come with certain advantages.”
“Beautiful.”
And so was she. Beyond beautiful with her sassy mouth and quick wit. One hundred percent committed and all his. Every gorgeous inch of her. The fact she loved him added fuel to his fire, astounding him even as he thanked his lucky stars. Her forgiveness was nothing short of a miracle. He didn’t deserve the second chance, never mind her. Henrik accepted both gifts anyway, feeling gratefulness rise as his love for her grew. His past no longer mattered. Neither did all the blood on his hands. His future began today. Every moment of it now belonged to her. And as he scooped Cosmina off the table and headed for the door, Henrik let his bitterness go.
His history with White Temple be damned.
The Goddess of All Things had finally gotten something right. And Henrik finally understood. The deity wove a crooked trail, pulling cosmic threads, adjusting outcomes, making amends in strange ways. All things happened for a reason. The goddess’ mantra, not his. But as the heavy weight surrounding his heart lifted and Cosmina kissed him back, Henrik acknowledged the truth. His pain. All the strife. Every bit of uncertainty and fear couldn’t touch him anymore. Not while he had Cosmina in his arms and the promise of her love to uphold.
A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
Thank you for reading Knight Avenged. If you enjoyed this book, I’d appreciate it if you’d help others find it so they can enjoy it too.
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book took me on a journey. The characters challenged me. The world expanded to include things I hadn’t anticipated. The love story touched my heart. I fell hard and fast for Henrik the moment I met him in the first Circle of Seven book, Knight Awakened, but I didn’t expect Cosmina to make me do the same. Sometimes characters strike that way, becoming so entrenched in my heart and mind they feel real to me. Like old friends and comfortable playmates. I am so very thankful for that. Thank you as well to Montlake Romance and Amazon Publishing for helping me get this book into your hands. I hope you enjoyed reading Henrik and Cosmina’s story as much as I did writing it.
Many thanks to my literary agent, Christine Witthohn. You are the best! You really are.
A huge thanks to Melody Guy. For your insight and honesty. For your dedication to getting the story right. You made this book better by making me work harder. And I am grateful.
Immeasurable thanks to my editor, Helen Cattaneo. Thank you for all your hard work and support. It means the world to me. And also to the entire Amazon Publishing team, but most especially to Jessica Poore, whose talents and enthusiasm never cease to amaze me. I so enjoy working with all of you!
To my friends and family. I love you all. Thank you for putting up with me and my distraction when I’m deep in Storyland.
Last but never least, to Kallie Lane, fellow writer, critique partner, and friend. You make me better. You always have. Thank you!
I raise a glass to all of you!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo © 2009 Julie Daniluk
After growing up as the only girl on an all-male hockey team, Coreene Callahan knows a thing or two about tough guys, and loves to write characters inspired by them. After graduating with honors in psychology, and taking a detour to work in interior design, Coreene finally gave in and returned to her first love: writing. Her debut novel, Fury of Fire, was a finalist in the New Jersey Romance Writers Golden Leaf Contest in two categories: Best First Book and Best Paranormal. She combines her love of romance, adventure, and writing with her passion for history in her novels Fury of Fire, Fury of Ice, Fury of Seduction, Fury of Desire, Knight Awakened, and Warrior’s Revenge. She lives in Canada with her family, a spirited golden retriever, and her wild imaginary world.
www.CoreeneCallahan.com
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication Page
CONTENTS
START READING
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR