Cupids Enchantment

by Cupid's Enchantment(lit)

  So soon? Rhiannon bit her lip, fighting the sting of moisture in her eyes. He meant to be rid of her so soon? She clutched the coverlet as she scrambled to the floor. Finding her blue gown, she shrugged it over her shoulders, doing her best to stay concealed from his eyes. There was no point. He didn’t try to peek.

  When she didn’t protest, he turned to find her fully dressed. She came around the bed to face him. His eyes dipped over her form, before saying quietly, "I shall find you some boots. It’ll be a long walk."

  Rhiannon nodded, wondering at the displeasure in his voice.

  "Come," he said listlessly, leading her from the bedchamber.

  Rhiannon shivered, but could only obey. More than anything she wanted to weep the wretchedness from her heart. It would seem the enchantment really was gone.

  * * * *

  The enchantment wasn’t gone. It was lessened, but it wasn’t completely faded. Rhiannon stared around the main hall. The soldiers, who she’d learned were put into the prisons while under her spell’s influence, stared up at her from the main hall floor. Their heated eyes had lessened in intensity, but they still desired her. Rhiannon tried to eat the bread and meat set before her, but the overbold eyes were beginning to unnerve her.

  "Are they normally like this?" Rhiannon asked, leaning naturally closer to Ilar at her side. She brushed near his thigh causing him to tense.

  Ilar looked over her head at Malak, frowning.

  Malak nodded. He too sensed the disquiet. Turning back to the hall, they saw each pair of unmated eyes was on Rhiannon’s every move. It was clear that Ilar had claimed her as his lover. His scent was all over her.

  When Ilar didn’t answer, Rhiannon looked up to his tense face. Realizing she touched him in public, she frowned and drew her hand away. Irritated, she edged closer to the more amiable Malak and said teasingly, "They don’t mean to eat me do they? This food is bland, but it’s truly not so bad as to warrant an attack."

  Malak chuckled, drawing the jealous eyes of the men to him. Leaning close to her, he whispered so only Ilar could hear them, "Methinks they make plans to challenge Lord Ilar for you."

  "Why would they do that?" she asked, a puzzled look coming to her features as she looked over the silent hall.

  Ilar’s nostrils flared. His frown deepened as Rhiannon turned her back completely on him. He wasn’t the only man who noticed.

  The soldier’s eyes narrowed, watching closely, trying to judge what went on between Ilar and the woman. They didn’t touch and act as lovers this morning, though the Commander’s scent marked her. The soldier’s eyes lit with a faint stirring of hope. They tensed, forgetting their food and the pretense of eating altogether.

  "They know he’s marked you as his lover," Malak answered, easily with a shrug. Rhiannon turned bright red. She was mortified. Malak noticed, but pretended not to.

  "Oh, no," Rhiannon said, seeming to understand Ilar’s discontent and the hall’s unease. "I’m not his lover."

  Malak’s brow rose slightly at her quick denial. He smelled otherwise, as could the rest of them. He sniffed her again, just to be sure. The marking was strong, sure. He glanced around to make sure none of the others detected her comment. The lycans had very sensitive ears. He was relieved to find none stood to challenge for her.

  Breathing a little easier, Malak studied the woman’s pretty face before looking at his friend. Ilar had tensed in outrage at her words. The Commander’s eyes bore into her back in growing fury.

  "No," Rhiannon said softly. She colored to a light pink and looked at her hands, not knowing Ilar listened. Murmuring under her breath, she explained, "It was just to end the enchantment. But, I don’t think it worked."

  Malak’s eyes rounded. He glanced over her head to where his friend was gripping his goblet like he wanted nothing more than to beat Lady Rhiannon over the head with it. He tried to catch his attention, but Ilar was too lost in his anger to heed Malak’s silent warning.

  "Lord Ilar," King Larus said, coming up the table to join them. He glanced around the hall at the abnormally quiet men. The mind link was the quietest it had been since Lady Rhiannon’s arrival, but it still murmured with grumbles and grunts. It would only take one provocation to get them howling again.

  Ilar lowered his goblet to the table and turned to the King. Rhiannon blinked at the sound, turning to glance at who spoke. Ilar’s back was to her. A slow smile came to Malak’s lips.

  "Methinks you should go find Cupid on your way to Fenris," the King said, so that Rhiannon couldn’t understand his words. "The spell has worn thin, but it hasn’t gone away."

  "Perhaps it takes time," Malak said.

  "No," Larus said. "Enchantments may build and grow, but once they are broken, they should be broken. It would seem Cupid’s revenge isn’t yet complete. Go to him and try to discover what he has planned. It’s wise you take her back to the mortal realm--that is, if you don’t wish to keep her for yourself?"

  Malak met the King’s eye, exchanging a knowing look.

  Ilar denied him instantly with a shake of his head. No, Rhiannon made it clear she wanted to go home and he would keep his word and take her.

  "No?" Larus inquired, before adding, "Then, it’s wise to bring her back. Unless she’s under a man’s protection, she cannot survive in our land. We have taken her in, so it’s up to us to make sure she remains safe. I don’t wish to have an unmated human running around."

  Rhiannon knew they talked about her. Her cheeks flamed slightly in irritation as they refused to let her understand their words.

  "Yes," Malak answered, when Ilar didn’t. "We will find that troll easily enough on our way to Fenris. By the looks of these men, we should be going."

  "I agree," Larus stated.

  Rhiannon blinked as Malak and Ilar both stood abruptly from the table. Malak motioned for her to come. Ilar turned his back and said nothing. Taking a quick drink, she moved to follow the men.

  * * * *

  The front gates of Lycaon faded into nothingness as they walked in silence. Ilar and Malak each carried a pack slung over their shoulders. The thick forest of red trees broke open to a long field of rolling grasses. The sun shone bright in the soft purple sky. Rhiannon’s gaze stayed down, looking for snakes hidden within the field. She’d bound the sides of her hair back from her face, but the wind still whipped the long curls over her back.

  They walked at a slow pace. She was glad for the fresh air and for the boots Ilar had managed to acquire for her. They were comfortable, if not a little worn. Her legs jerked. She felt like running with her arms wide spread. She held back, not wanting to disrupt the pace Ilar and Malak set.

  Malak, frowning, used the mind link to ask Ilar, Shouldn’t we just shift and carry her upon our backs? It would be faster. At this rate, it will take us a sennight to get to Fenris.

  Answering with a growl, Ilar said, No, let her walk. I have no wish to carry her.

  Rhiannon heard a snort and looked up. The silent duo really made for boring traveling companions. For awhile, she passed the time humming every song she could remember in her head. Once, when the tune got away from her and she hummed out loud, Ilar’s dark look stopped her.

  Hours passed and the field gradually thinned as they neared a rocky path wide enough for all three to walk side by side. The rolling field turned into small hills. The small hills grew into larger foothills. And, as the day turned into evening, the foothills finally rose in the distance to show a range of glorious mountains.

  Rhiannon tried to pause in awe to look at the brilliant splendor of the landscape, never having seen such a sight. Ilar’s hand on her arm pulling her forward kept her moving. She shot him a glare that he didn’t seem to notice.

  Rhiannon sighed, seeing the shadowing of a silver moon on the evening sky. If she ever saw that little troll again, she’d give him what for!

  Sighing, she ignored Ilar, who for some reason appeared to be in the blackest of all their moods. She jerked her arm from his and turned to Malak.
Malak glanced down at her open attention. He really was a tall man and she felt dwarfed between the two lycans. Nonchalantly, she asked the darkest lycan, "Are you married, Lord Malak?"

  Malak blinked in surprise at the forward question. Ilar’s eyes darkened over her head to glare at his friend in unconcealed jealousy. Malak swallowed, but answered her expectant smile, "No, my lady."

  Ilar growled. Rhiannon was flirting with Malak! And right in front of him! To inquire such of a man’s mated status was to hint that you wanted him as your lover. She didn’t even try to hide her blatant advances from him! She wasn’t even marked as his woman for a day. It was beyond insulting that she would seek another so quickly.

  "Oh, then do you rule Fenris alone?" she inquired, wanting to keep conversation going. At least it would take her mind from the endless miles stretching ahead of them--and the dark looks the moody Ilar kept giving her. She had half a mind to tell him to go back, that she’d find her own way. However, she couldn’t do it. Even if he didn’t want to be there, she desperately wanted him with her--even distant and irritable as he was. Her whole body had stayed focused on him in one way or another.

  "Yes," Malak answered carefully.

  Ilar snorted. Rhiannon blinked, turning to study him. Now what was wrong with him? It’s not like he was talking to her.

  Keeping her eyes steadily on Ilar, she asked Malak, "And is Fenris far from here, Lord Malak?"

  "Well, no, usually we can make the run in little over a day," the dark lycan answered.

  "Ah, are we close, then?" Rhiannon asked, blinking. She’d thought they would be sleeping outside by the looks of the satchels.

  "No, not so close," Malak answered, grinning. "We usually shift to run. At this pace we’ll be there in maybe a half a sennight’s time."

  "I can run," Rhiannon said, embarrassed that she was the reason they moved so slow. "Maybe, not as fast as you, but I can."

  Ilar snorted. This time it was louder. Rhiannon stopped, placing her hands on her hips and refusing to walk another step as she stared at Ilar’s back. Malak grinned, not turning. It had taken him awhile, but he realized Rhiannon only spoke to him to irritate Ilar. It worked better than she realized. Ilar and Malak stopped, turning to look at her in expectation.

  When she didn’t move, only continued to glare at Ilar, Malak said, "We should camp here tonight. Methinks there’s a small pool up ahead with fish. Ilar, if you would start a fire, I’ll get our supper."

  Ilar knew Malak was purposefully leaving them alone. He barely turned to acknowledge him as he left.

  Aside from Ilar handing her a piece of dried meat back at the field, Rhiannon hadn’t eaten and her stomach turned at the idea of supper, making her even more waspish toward Ilar. Unable to bite her tongue, she told him, "Why don’t you just go away!"

  "Why?" he demanded, stalking forward to tower over her. "So you can be alone with Malak?"

  Rhiannon blinked, surprised by the accusations. "At least he’ll look at me and talk to me. It’s more than you have done all day! If you’re so miserable, just leave. I’ll find my own way to Fenris and to the portal. I don’t need you."

  "I promised to protect you and I’ll protect you," Ilar said. Truthfully, he didn’t want to leave her alone with Malak. He’d seen the way she smiled at his friend. She didn’t look at him in such a way. It tore at his gut. What he wouldn’t give for just one of her pretty smiles.

  "I release you from your promise." She stalked up to him and planting a finger firmly on his chest. Shoving, she shouted, "Go!"

  "You cannot release me from my word," he lied. In truth, according to their customs, she could. "I have given it, I’ll see it through."

  "Oh!" she huffed, wanting to strike him but not so foolish as to try. "You are so ... so ... argh!"

  The high-pitched scream echoed over the pass. Rhiannon turned from him, storming down the path until she was out of sight. Sinking behind a boulder, she crossed her arms and stared at the beautiful sunset. It brought her no pleasure.

  Ilar let her go. If he kept speaking to her, he’d probably only strangle her anyway to keep her quiet--or to keep from kissing her. Even now his body longed for her. It had been aching for her touch all day. So much so, that he’d refused to let her ride upon his back because he knew he’d never stand the torture of it. And there was no way in heaven or hell he’d let her wrap her long legs around his friend, even if it was in travel.

  "Accursed enchantment!" he swore darkly, as he went to gather firewood. But, even as he said it, he knew the enchantment had nothing to do with his desire for her. It would’ve been there without it.

  * * * *

  Malak came back carting three large fish. They didn’t look like any Rhiannon recognized, but as her stomach growled, she wasn’t about to be picky. He carried a knife in his hands and it looked as if the fish had already been gutted and cleaned.

  Malak’s kilt-like attire wrapped about his waist to his knees. His expansive chest was bare, dark and muscled. He glanced at her as he walked up the hillside, to where she hid behind a boulder, before looking higher up the path to where Ilar started a fire in a rock clearing cut into the cliffs. The high rock face would protect them from the wind during the night. They made camp for the sake of Lady Rhiannon, who looked worn. Neither lycan was tired. They drew strength from the night, able to travel at greater speeds while it was cool.

  "It would be warmer by the firelight, my lady," Malak said, his voice dipping slightly.

  Rhiannon blinked, glancing over at him. Thinking of Ilar, she grumbled under her breath, arguing softly, "Methinks it’s colder by the firelight."

  Malak looked over to where Ilar stared sullenly into the flames. He pretended not to hear her. His voice turned almost sympathetic, knowing how hard Ilar could seem to the fairer sex--especially a human who didn’t have the ability to read him. Only if she were to become his life mate would she gain the gift of his mind. Ilar was a man of duty and not always the clearest when it came to how he felt. "Come, lady. These mountain passes grow cold during the dark hours and you never know what will lurk within the night shadows. It’s much safer by the fire."

  Rhiannon shot up in surprise, looking around the dark countryside. Malak hid his grin as he began walking away. Ilar and he would sense anything that came near and there was nothing lurking in the shadows. But, let her have reason to seek Ilar’s company. She looked like she desperately wanted to. After having spent the day hearing fragments of his friend’s disconcerted thoughts, he’d bet Ilar would be more than willing to offer her protection--needed or not.

  Rhiannon rushed behind Malak, coming close to his back as she tried to see out into the surrounding valley. She couldn’t make out anything, but was convinced some evil waited out in the darkness. Malak stopped beneath the cliff path leading up the incline to Ilar. Rhiannon, preoccupied with the thought of demons, ran into his back, tripping over to the side. With his free hand, Malak grabbed her about the waist to keep her from falling.

  Ilar came just in time to see Rhiannon leaning over Malak’s arm. Malak pushed her up and back, shielding her from Ilar’s misunderstanding. With his mind, he tried to tell the Commander that nothing happened. Ilar, angry and jealous, turned and stormed away from them.

  Malak nodded his head for Rhiannon to climb before him. The path was only a little steep and she made it fairly easily. Coming across the clearing, she saw Ilar’s back was to her. Malak came up behind her, brushing past to go to the fire. Within moments, he set up a spit and was cooking their supper. No one said a word.

  Chapter Seven

  Rhiannon sighed in contentment. Malak had found some herbs by the stream and she was delighted to discover he was quite the cook. When she said as much, Ilar just grunted. He ate in silence, throwing accusing glares at her and at Malak. Malak ignored him, holding polite conversation with Rhiannon about Fenris.

  "I need to stretch my legs," Malak announced, standing. He strode from the campsite, hopping down off the cliff with ease. Rhian
non noticed that there was a restlessness to Malak, a searching look that always appeared to be just beyond what he was doing.

  Ilar stood, grabbed a wine pouch, and moved away from the fire. He was livid. He balled his hands into fists. He heard Malak trying to reason with him through their mind link, but he didn’t want to hear it--couldn’t hear it.

  Rhiannon watched as Malak took off in wolf form down the valley. Swallowing now that she and Ilar were alone, she stood, drawn to Ilar’s back. Coming up next to him, she followed his eyes up to the silver moon. It was half full.

  "The moon doesn’t look like this back home," she said, almost sorrowful. She really missed her family when she stopped to think about them.

  Ilar knew the moment she joined him. Nodding, he said, "I remember."

  "Oh," she breathed, recalling how old he was, how much longer he’d probably live past her death. It was better for her to be going, if only for that reason. Even if he asked her to stay, she’d only grow old as he stayed as handsome as this moment. Her heart ached. The thought brought tears to her eyes. It’s not like he’d made her any promises. She couldn’t demand anything from him. "I suppose you would. Do you ever miss it? Being in my world?"

  "I don’t think on it," he said truthfully. Ilar imagined he would think on it a lot more after he sent her back there.

  "May I have a drink?" Her voice was as soft as a whisper. She was very aware of where he stood next to her. She didn’t see a single star, though she stared right at them.

  Ilar glanced down at his hand before lifting it to her. Her eyes didn’t meet his as she took it. She held it in silence, before pulling it to her lips.

  "What manner of creatures live in these mountains?" she asked, seeing all the dark crevices as she wiped her mouth on her hand.