Broken Dove

by Kristen Ashley

  I fought back my shudder before I confirmed, “Yes.”

  “Well then you know there had to be some good blood coming from somewhere to make Frey and his brothers.” She leaned into me and her lips were no longer quirking. She caught me fighting back the shudder so she was now smiling. “That was Eugenie.”

  Well, that explained that.

  “Ah,” I murmured.

  “Mm-hmm,” she murmured back and after she did, she giggled.

  And since she giggled, I giggled too.

  We then giggled more.

  We only stopped giggling when another rich deep voice came from my side.

  This one I liked a whole lot better.

  It was Apollo’s as he said, “I’m loathe to disturb your merriment, but the children will soon be heading up for their baths.”

  I looked up at Apollo, knowing what this meant.

  We were riding back much as we’d ridden to Brunskar. This was with brief pit stops to stretch our legs, eat lunch, feed and water the horses, and then pressing forward.

  But due to Loretta having an injury and Finnie having a toddler, we ended our rides early enough to settle in our rooms and get a good hot meal.

  Therefore, the last few days, Apollo had set about making it so he and I spent time with Chris and Élan alone before they had their baths and went to bed.

  This was, I knew, his way of dealing with the Chris situation as well as simply offering the children more opportunities to get to know “us” as an “us” and that meant more than just the Apollo and me “us” but the family “us.”

  Normally, I would love this.

  The way Chris was remote during these times, which Apollo kept brief likely in deference to his son’s feelings, I didn’t like it all that much.

  Nevertheless, I pinned a bright smile on my face and said, “Okeydokey.”

  The instant he heard me say that word, Apollo smiled a warm, intimate smile that should have warmed me through and through.

  It didn’t.

  It simply made me feel emptier.

  I didn’t let him see this.

  I said my goodnight to Finnie and took Apollo’s hand.

  He pulled me out of my seat and led us to his children.

  * * * * *

  That night after Apollo made love to me, we were lying face-to-face in each other’s arms.

  I was thinking of what Apollo would look like holding a kitten. Envisioning it in my head, I felt all warm and squishy inside (or warmer and squishier, I always felt pretty warm and squishy after Apollo made love to me).

  I didn’t know what Apollo was thinking.

  Until he told me.

  “You are very natural with Viktor,” he murmured, his voice sexy-sleepy.

  I had to admit, I appreciated his sexy-sleepy voice and I wished I could focus on that.

  But instead, I closed my eyes tight and pressed closer to his warmth, visions of Apollo cuddling a kitty disintegrating and visions of Apollo cradling our redheaded daughter (or son) crowding in.

  They were beautiful.

  And they hurt.

  I opened my eyes and shared, “It’s easy to be natural with him when he’s tuckered out. I lost count of how many times he made a play toward the front of the sleigh so he could launch himself on Anguish’s back.”

  “His father’s son,” Apollo murmured.

  That was the truth.

  He gathered me even closer and his voice was still drowsy (and hot) when he said, “Watching you with Viktor, I now understand how you find me beautiful when you see me with my children.”

  Oh God.

  He was killing me.

  Since he was and I was fighting that feeling (and that feeling took a lot of fighting), I said nothing.

  Apollo, as was his way, read that I needed him to leave it at that. I knew it when he changed the subject to ask, “I must request a favor.”

  “Anything,” I whispered, the feeling in that not hidden because I meant it.

  A lot.

  I’d give him anything. Anything I had to give.

  I just didn’t have very much to give.

  But what I had was his.

  “Keep an eye on Loretta and Hans. Something is brewing.”

  This, too, was the truth.

  It seemed a turnabout had happened.

  Understandably, Loretta was a little freaked she’d fought a battle against magical creatures and sustained a war wound. The wound wasn’t terrible, it wasn’t great. There were some herbal remedies Draven was giving her that took the edge off the pain during the day, different ones that helped her sleep at night.

  However, something had switched on for Hans, knowing the depths of Loretta’s loyalty to me.

  At the same time, something had switched off for Loretta, knowing he didn’t want her before, the implication being perhaps he thought her frivolous and not worth his time, now something he knew not to be true (when, of course, it wasn’t true before either).

  The problem was, when a ladies maid was crushing on a handsome soldier with aristocratic blood, and he didn’t return her feelings, she was screwed and not in the way she’d want to be.

  But when a handsome soldier with aristocratic blood had his sights set on a pretty, spirited, loyal ladies maid and she gave him the cold shoulder, shit could happen.

  Hans was getting impatient.

  Visibly.

  Finnie, Meeta, Bella and I had been watching as this situation was unfolding and had conferred on it repeatedly over the last few days.

  We thought it was awesome.

  “I’m already keeping my eye on it,” I told Apollo.

  “Good,” he murmured, his voice lower, quieter, even more drowsy, and thus very sweet.

  Therefore I whispered, “Goodnight, baby.”

  He gave me a light squeeze and whispered back, “Goodnight, dove.”

  I felt his big body relax, shifting slightly forward, some of his weight settling into mine.

  And when it did, I tipped my head back.

  Apollo had extinguished the lights but the fire in the grate was still blazing. Still, the weak light of the flames barely illuminated the shadows dancing across his features.

  He was beautiful at rest.

  He was beautiful all the time.

  His beauty shined outwardly and reached deep into his soul.

  He had it all to give and he wanted me to have it.

  And I was taking it.

  I lay in that bed in the warm safety of Apollo’s arms, having it all.

  Yet, I still felt empty.

  * * * * *

  Two nights later, the lamps out, the firelight dancing, Apollo having decided he wanted to feel the silk of my nightgown against him as he slept so he’d dressed me again after he’d made love to me, I lay on top of his body, running my lips along his collarbone.

  “Can I ask you something?” I whispered against his skin.

  His hands spanning my hips tensed, giving me a squeeze when he answered, “You can ask anything, poppy.”

  I lifted my head, slid up him and raised my hand. I watched my fingers drift through the dark hair that had fallen on his brow, smoothing it away and I left my fingers in it as I turned my eyes to his.

  “What gives with the wolves?” I asked.

  His brows drew together as his hands at my hips glided around so he could hold me. “What…gives?”

  It was cute, and sweet, how he reacted to the way I said things in the terms of my world.

  I didn’t tell him that.

  I explained, “That night, after those things attacked us and you showed, you talked to a wolf and, I mean, I know men can talk to wolves and such, but it seemed like something more.”

  “Ah,” he murmured but said no more.

  “Ah?” I pushed.

  “You do not know.”

  “No, I do not know,” I confirmed the obvious, since I was asking.

  “I am an Ulfr,” he stated, and I stared.

  When he said no more,
I informed him, “Uh, I know that, sweetheart.”

  “The Head of my House,” he went on.

  “I know that too.”

  “Ulfr Heads command the wolves.”

  At that, I blinked.

  Apollo kept talking.

  “The House of Ulfr has always commanded the wolves. It’s more than talking to them. They do our bidding, specifically, if needed, during war.”

  Wow.

  The book on the Houses that I read in Fleuridia hadn’t mentioned that!

  And that was cool!

  “Seriously?” I asked.

  He grinned and his arms tightened around me. “Seriously, dove.”

  “So, you bid them to help me when I was in danger?”

  “For the most part, yes. The night before the gale, I felt you were protected but I had concerns and wanted to be certain. So I called to the pack leaders and bid them to stay alert, patrol, and come to your aid if it was needed.”

  “That was what you were doing before you came back to bed,” I noted.

  “It was.”

  That explained that.

  Apollo kept the information flowing. “The alliance between the Head of the House of Ulfr and the wolves is strong. This is because, during war, they can sustain many casualties thus we do not call on them often, only if the situation is important or dire. And if they do sustain casualties, we avenge them. Therefore, someone involved in this plot, if found, tried and deemed guilty, as treason carries the death sentence without question, they will be turned over to the wolves. The wolves will then tear the perpetrator to shreds as vengeance.”

  Uh.

  Gross!

  “Holy cow,” I breathed.

  “It’s unpleasant and has not happened in decades. But it is their due.”

  “Yuck,” I mumbled.

  Apollo again grinned, sliding a hand up my spine so his fingers could play with the ends of my hair.

  “You will obviously not witness this,” he declared.

  Thank God.

  “I’m down with that.”

  His grin turned into a smile.

  “Now that I get the wolf business, what’s with the birds?” I asked.

  Again his brows drew together. “What birds?”

  “I’ve heard mention of sending ‘a bird’ more than once. What’s the deal with that?”

  His brow cleared, his fingers tangled deeper into my hair but the expression on his face changed in a way I felt deep in my belly. In a way that made my beautiful Apollo even more beautiful.

  I would know why when he murmured, “I forget that you have been here such a short time. It feels I’ve had you in my arms for decades. Strangely, at the same time it feels like fleeting moments. Those kinds of moments that are precious. I forget you still have much to learn of my world. But when I remember, I also remember how I enjoy my opportunities to share with you about your new world.”

  I melted into him and whispered, “I enjoy it when you do too.”

  He gave me a squeeze, dipped his face close to touch the tip of his nose to mine before he drew away and stopped being impossibly wonderful and went back to just being normally wonderful.

  “Communication in this world, as you know, is slow. You’ve explained your world with its phones and computers. As you also know, we have none of that. Messengers on fast horses are used. But if a message is urgent, we send it with a bird. A bird can fly faster and straighter than any horse.”

  “Carrier pigeons,” I said and his brows went up.

  “They have these in the other world?” he asked.

  “Yes, though they’re not used anymore. Not like they used to be,” I answered.

  “Interesting,” he murmured.

  “So, do you use these birds a lot?” I queried.

  Apollo nodded. “Yes, quite often. But not all the time. There are issues with this as the message is tied to the bird’s leg so it cannot be very long. Thus, it has to be concise and cleverly written. Many a time a message was misinterpreted when the few words that can be written are not properly understood. And although birds are trained, if the distance is lengthy, they can come to harm or go astray and never deliver the message at all. Still, they are used regularly and if a message is important, two, three, or even more birds are sent with the same message in hopes one of them gets through.”

  I studied his handsome face as thoughts leaked into my brain, thoughts that then leaked out of my mouth.

  “Are there others with powers such as yours, bidding the wolves?” I asked.

  “Outside Frey and some men who practice sorcery, thus are trained to wield power, no.”

  That said a lot. At least to me.

  “So, has it occurred to you,” I began quietly, “that it would seem that all the men in this scenario, the husbands of the women from my world, have special things about them? Frey with his dragons and elves. Lahn with his might. Tor, chosen for whatever reason to have his soul connected to Cora. You and your wolves?”

  He held my eyes and his fingers stopped moving and tangled in my hair.

  “Yes,” he answered.

  “Lo—”

  “We are all special, Maddie.”

  He was right about that.

  Save one.

  Me.

  On this thought, I dropped my head so I could press my face in his neck and his arms wrapped around me tight.

  “You are safe,” he stated firmly.

  I was.

  Because he made me be with him, his men, his wolves.

  “You are safe, my dove,” he repeated, quieter but just as firmly.

  “I know, baby,” I whispered and fell silent.

  After some time, he rolled us to our sides and snuggled me closer.

  “Enough talk. We have another long ride tomorrow. Now you must sleep, poppy.”

  “Okay, Lo.”

  He gave me a squeeze.

  I nestled in and closed my eyes.

  Apollo fell asleep before me.

  And when I slept, I dreamed of wolves, black mist and disembodied beaks pecking at me.

  Thus I woke up fatigued and restless. And even waking with Apollo’s hands moving on me, knowing all around me were special, adventurers and Raiders, warriors and warrior queens, lovers with interconnected souls, soldiers who commanded wolves…and then there was me, I woke still feeling empty.

  * * * * *

  Five evenings later, I had one hand to the headboard, one hand between my legs and both of Apollo’s hands at my breasts, rolling and tugging my nipples.

  Apollo was fucking my ass.

  And, believe it or not, I loved it.

  Every freaking stroke.

  “Baby,” I breathed.

  He kept fucking me. “Do not climax, Madeleine.”

  “Honey, I’m about—”

  He stroked in, filling me, a strange and brilliant feeling, especially since it came after he made me lie still while he touched me, then spanked me while he fucked me normally, then he oiled me and finally, when I was primed, slowly took me.

  He tugged on my nipples. “You climax at my command.”

  Oh God. That was hot.

  “I’ll try,” I gasped.

  He started stroking again. “This is all I ask, poppy.”

  He kept going and I kept moaning, touching myself, struggling to hold back my orgasm. The fight was making my muscles quiver and my fingers that were wrapped around the headboard dug in so hard I thought I’d break it with my hand.

  “So beautiful,” he grunted, plunging in.

  God.

  “So beautiful, Maddie,” he rumbled. “Gods, I wish you could watch you taking me.”

  God!

  He stroked in and pulled out, declaring in a thick voice, “We’ll get a mirror.”

  “Baby,” I whimpered, his words driving me to the edge and I wasn’t going to be able to hold it.

  He knew it and ordered gruffly, “Take me yourself, poppy, then take yourself there.”

  He’d slid out. I on
ly had the tip so I pushed back, taking him at the same time coming apart as my orgasm shook through me.

  When it did, Apollo hauled us down the bed and pressed in so I was on my belly, all of this with me still taking him. As my orgasm continued to shudder through me, he kept fucking me before he pulled out and I heard his deep groans. I knew he’d slid off the sheath he’d put on when I felt him come on my ass.

  So.

  Totally.

  Hot.

  “Arse up for me, dove,” he murmured after he’d lifted his weight from me, and I shivered as I slid my knees up under me.

  He rubbed his “seed” into my delightfully sore ass and I closed my eyes, my thighs quivering as the intimacy of that, the sexiness poured over me making me warm and hot again, all at once.

  His thumb slid between my cheeks, coming to rest lightly on my anus and he whispered, “Okay?”

  “Totally,” I whispered back.

  I felt his hand curl around my hip, fingers digging in in an affectionate squeeze, as his thumb did some soothing circling. Then his hands left me, only for him to come back with a cloth. He wiped himself from me, the cloth was gone and his hands were back, gently moving me so I was on my back and he was between my legs.

  Then he surprised me by bending and kissing my belly and as he was sliding down the bed, his eyes came to mine and he murmured, “Rest, my dove. You giving me that deserves a reward.”

  The minute he was done saying that, he draped my legs over his shoulders, dipped his head and gently, slowly, amazingly, beautifully ate me until I came again, my legs pressing into his shoulders, my heels in his back, my cries quiet but forceful.

  By the time I came down from that one, I found myself on top of him, one of his arms wrapped tight around my back, the other hand cupped on my bottom, the tips of his fingers pressed into the inside curve of my cheek, soothing, claiming, possessive.

  I closed my eyes.

  “Did you like that, honey?” I murmured.

  “You’re very tight,” he replied, his fingers giving me a squeeze.

  I decided to take that as a yes.

  He wasn’t done.

  “I want you facing a mirror, arse up, shoulders down, climaxing for me while you watch me move in your arse,” he went on.

  I swallowed an excited noise at his words.

  He still wasn’t done.

  “But I prefer what’s between your legs. It’s wetter, sweeter, I can look into your eyes when I’m taking it and I can take it hard. And when you climax, it spasms, milking me of my seed in a way I like very much.” His arm and hand at my ass gave me a squeeze. “Very much.”