Hemera brought her torn sleeve to her mouth to try and staunch the flow of blood. She needed to stop the bleeding, stop it from dripping down her throat, stop the taste of it. Stop the memories of the last time she had tasted blood on her lips.
Hemera paid no heed to those around her, trying desperately to dispel the memories that roiled her stomach unmercifully.
“She needs the healer,” Verity cried as she hurried to her sister’s side.
It was not Verity that Hemera looked to when she felt herself about to heave or who she reached out to.
Talon grabbed hold of Hemera’s hand, hurried his arm around her waist, and rushed her around the side of the cookhouse, ordering the others to, “Stay where you are.”
His arm went around her middle as she bent over and her insides released all that was in there. When there was no more left to come out, Talon ripped the torn sleeve off her arm and wiped her mouth, then eased her up to rest back against him for a moment before lifting her in his arms.
He came around the cookhouse and issued orders. “Get the healer, a fresh bucket of water,” —he looked to Verity— “and a clean garment for her.”
With Talon having dispersed the crowd that had gathered and the cookhouse not far from the feasting house that was now empty, few if any saw him carry Hemera inside and into the Council Chambers.
Talon wanted to lock everyone out of the chambers and tend Hemera himself, but that could not be and he was glad Paine followed in not far behind them, or he would have been much too tempted to do just that. He carried two buckets of water, one full and the other half full. Paine knew, just as Talon and Wrath did, that Hemera would need to rinse the blood from her mouth repeatedly until the bleeding stopped. Mouth wounds always bleed profusely, but more often than not, stopped in good time.
Talon no soon as sat her on the bench, when voices were heard approaching the room.
Hemera hurried to take hold of his hand and gave it a tight squeeze, her eyes begging him not to leave her.
His heart felt as if it would explode from his chest, he ached so badly to give her what they both wanted... time alone together. Instead, he offered her what he could.
“Later,” he whispered and he was glad to see her smile, though got angry when she winced from the pain and blood that ran from her mouth.
Verity rushed to her sister as soon as she entered along with Anin. Bethia, the healer, followed soon after.
Gelhard followed them in and waited by the door, a frown on his face.
Talon reluctantly left Hemera, walking out of the room in forceful strides and Gelhard hurrying to keep up.
Paine and Wrath caught up with the two men in the feasting hall.
“She is a problem,” Gelhard said. “No matter what is done with her she continues to be a problem. She needs a husband to keep her in tow. Join her with Bower and be done with it.”
Talon stepped toward Gelhard. “I do not recall asking for your advice.”
“But I give it nonetheless, as a good High Counselor is expected to do. I only ask that you give it thought, my King, for when the future queen arrives, it will be she who requires your attention and not a witless woman.” Gelhard bowed his head and hurried off before the King could make his annoyance known.
Paine stepped forward. “Shall I inform Nock that Hemera will not return to the cookhouse until tomorrow?”
If I am right, and we crash to the ground, will you suspend my punishment?
Her words had returned to haunt him as did his. This is one wager I will win and gladly gloat when I do.
“Tell Nock that I have granted his request. Hemera will not be returning to the cookhouse.”
“You will amend her punishment again?” Wrath asked worried that his wife would once again be concerned for her sister.
“I will find something that will keep her out of trouble,” Talon said.
Paine laughed. “Good luck with that.”
Talon sat at the long table in the feasting hall not touching the food in front of him. He wanted the evening done, well at least this part of the evening. The rest he would spend with Hemera. She had challenged him earlier, asking if he was up to mating tonight. He had never thought she might not be, but that did not matter. He wanted time with her, to hold her close, feel her warmth, drink in her sweet scent.
“I guess Nock was wrong about us all being poisoned and Hemera was right. The food was tastier than usual,” Paine said, sitting down beside him.
Talon had not tried the stew, though he did now, scooping up a chunk of meat with bread. It was tasty and he suddenly found himself hungry.
“Are you saving yourself for your new queen?” Paine asked.
Talon leaned back in his chair with a glare that would have had most men shivering.
Paine continued speaking. “I have noticed that you have not taken a woman to your chambers in,” —he rubbed his chin, tilted his head, and scrunched his eyes as if thinking— “for some time now.”
Talon’s glare deepened.
A flicker of humor sparked in Paine’s eyes as he smiled and said, “Who is the woman you keep hidden from everyone? And do not bother to tell me I am wrong. Everyone knows you do not go long without a woman. If I see it, then so do others.”
Talon leaned forward, planting his face not far from Paine’s. “It is not yours or anyone else’s concern.”
“Your future queen may think differently.”
Paine’s words had Talon’s temper flaring at the thought of not being with Hemera.
“Do I need to come between you two?”
Talon looked to see Wrath standing in front of the table.
“Curious eyes are beginning to drift your way since it appears as if the executioner and King are arguing,” Wrath said, keeping his voice low.
“Paine is no longer my executioner,” Talon said with a curt tongue.
Wrath turned a questioning glare on Talon. “Is he still your friend?”
“Always,” the King said without hesitation.
“It is as a friend I shared my opinion,” Paine said all trace of humor gone. “Be careful, Talon, it will not be you who suffers for your overindulgences.”
Talon thought on Paine’s words as the evening wore on endlessly. What did it matter what the future queen thought? Their union was for one reason and one reason only, for her to produce an heir to the Pict throne. She probably would be grateful he had another woman so she would not have to suffer his touch.
What of Hemera, though? She would be relegated to the shadows, never able to walk by his side for all to see that he cared for her.
Cared.
Did he truly care for her? He had cared for no woman he had joined with over time. He treated them well, satisfied them, but care? Once he parted from them he had given them no thought until the urge to mate struck him again.
Hemera was different. He could not get her out of his mind. She was there all the time and he found himself having to catch a smile from surfacing for no reason except that he had thought of her. Oddly enough that had been before they had coupled. She had entered his head often and for no reason. He did not know what it had been about her that he had been drawn to... her peculiar nature perhaps, her stark honesty, her lovely lips, her body that curved so nicely?
He forced his thoughts away from her since he was beginning to grow aroused and looked over the feasting hall. Paine and Anin were talking and laughing with Wrath and Verity while other warriors did the same with their wives and single warriors were trying to entice single women to their sleeping pallets for the night. Broc had been having success lately with Simca, but then she pleased herself with many of the warriors as some of the women were wont to do.
He had done the same many times with the willing women, yet now he found himself wanting only one.
Hemera.
He was growing impatient for the evening to end. He needed the village asleep for the night so that he could finally go to Hemera. No one could see him. No one could k
now.
Heaviness captured his heart and flared his anger. He stood abruptly, rushing everyone to their feet and taking quick steps he climbed the stairs and disappeared into his sleeping chambers.
There he waited impatiently and when all seemed quiet, he opened his door and stepped out past the two guards who kept watch at his door until morn. He walked to his private chamber and took a glance down at the feasting hall. He could not see all of it, but what he did see pleased him.
It was empty. He could go to Hemera now.
“Let no one disturb me,” Talon ordered the guards as he entered his sleeping chamber and once the door closed he took the secret passage down and stepped out to be swallowed by the shadows of the night and make his way to Hemera.
Chapter 13
Hemera sat on the edge of her sleeping pallet, her lip quite sore. She had suffered such an injury more than once, her tooth having jabbed into her lower lip from a hard blow to her mouth. It would bleed profusely at first, then stop, and then need time to heal, the soreness lingering. While she had experienced it before, this time was different. This time her injury would prevent her from kissing Talon until it healed, which left her with a heavy heart. She enjoyed kissing him and the feelings that followed, and she so wanted to explore those feelings more.
She was eager for his arrival tonight and hoped any moment he would walk through the door. That she missed him as much as she did continued to surprise her. Her solitude was something she cherished and yet now she cherished time with Talon more.
A sudden chill sent gooseflesh running over her and though the fire roared in the fire pit, she added a bit more kindling. She also wrapped one of the blankets around her naked body. Her garment had been unsalvageable between its worn spots and the blood that had stained it. She had only one garment now, but somehow she would find a way to rectify that.
Her impatience had her pacing by the fire pit, its crackles and heat soothing and it made her aware of the many aches left to her from the fall. She needed rest, but she needed Talon more and the thought that he came before all else halted her pacing. How could someone make such a difference in her life in such a short time?
The door suddenly opened and Talon entered and for a brief moment, no more than a blink of an eye, Hemera’s heart caught in relief. He had returned to her. She let the blanket fall and went to him.
Talon hurried forward to meet her, his arms circling her, bringing her close, feeling the slight chill of her flesh and wrapping himself around her to keep her tucked safe and warm against him. She belonged there in his arms, in his bed, always beside him and he almost flinched when he felt a piercing stab at his heart that it could never be.
“You are chilled,” he said and lifted her in his arms and carried her to place gently on the sleeping pallet.
Hemera moved, leaving enough room for him to slip in beside her. She was about to protest when he stepped away from the pallet, fearful that he did not intend to join her, but stilled her words when she watched him quickly shed his garments.
He climbed in beside her and took her in his arms once again, his hand drifting down along her back, caressing the scars that flared his anger every time he touched them. He would have his revenge against the person who had beaten her unmercifully and he would see him suffer far worse before taking his life.
Hemera enjoyed his touch more than she could say. It was tender yet strong, caring yet sensual, and she had missed it in the short time they had been separated.
She tilted her head up off his chest. “You suffered no wounds in the fall?”
“No more than an ache or two, and they trouble me little,” he admitted, having suffered far worse falls and bruises. “Lips bleed more than they need to when inured. Your lip will heal in time.”
“It has before and it will again.”
His hand at her back moved to her waist and gave it a tender squeeze. “What do you mean it has before?”
“I have suffered such an injury a few times before.”
“How many times?” he asked curious and concerned it had been no accident but a forceful blow.
“Three maybe four,” she said.
“Tell me,” he ordered.
“Not now,” she said on a sigh. “We have little time together and I do not want to waste it on memories better left alone.”
She was right. They had precious little time together to waste. “There will come a time when—”
“I will tell you,” she said softly and brought her lips to his neck to nibble on.
Talon almost stopped her—almost—but her teeth nipping at his flesh stirred his passion that had already risen to the surface. He lay still, his eyes closed, and let her have her way, let his passion soar.
He felt her gasp in the sudden tautness of her body against his before he heard it. His hands took hold of her shoulders, easing her away from him. He cursed aloud when he saw blood running down her mouth.
“I will clean the blood from you,” Hemera rushed to say, seeing the anger in his eyes.
Talon had her on her back so fast that her eyes looked as though they would pop from her head. “You will stay put,” he ordered and left the bed to return with a cloth and the fresh bucket of water her sister had left near the fire pit.
Hemera lay quiet as he saw to cleaning the blood from her mouth, dunking the cloth and rinsing it after each gentle stroke. His every touch was thoughtful, almost as if he was fearful of somehow harming her.
“You should not have been on that roof,” he scolded.
“You should have listened to me,” she reprimanded.
His hand stilled. “Are you saying I am at fault?”
“Aye, I told you the ladder would not hold us both.”
“If you had listened to me when I told you to get down off the roof—”
“I was not finished,” she interrupted.
Talon leaned his face close to hers. “You were finished when I told you that you were finished.”
She tapped him on the nose. “But I was not finished and I could not leave the chore undone.”
“You can when the King orders you to do so,” he argued and grabbed her finger so she could not tap his nose again.
“It was a nonsensical order. It was much wiser to finish what I had started, since I was already on the roof.” She scrunched her brow. “I do not think Nock likes his task as cook.”
“All were given preference to chores of their choosing when possible.”
“Not Nock,” she insisted.
Talon went to disagree, but a quick kiss from her silenced him, though brought a wince from her.
“You will not kiss me,” he demanded with a sternness that had her frowning. Guilt rushed up to stab at him and he found himself explaining before he could stop himself. “Until your lip heals you will not kiss me.” Her frown remained and he leaned down to kiss her cheek. “I will lavish your body with enough kisses for us both.” That brought a smile to her face. He kissed her other cheek. “You will promise me you will stay off roofs.” She stared at him and he waited, knowing she was thinking and would not speak until her thoughts were clear.
It was not long before she said, “I cannot promise you, for I know not what the future holds. If something necessitated my climbing up on a roof, I would not want a promise holding me back, especially a promise I made to you.” She could not stop a yawn from surfacing or the wince that followed it.
“You need rest,” he said.
“I need you,” she whispered and pressed her cheek to his, wishing she could kiss him, but her blood already stained his neck. She took the cloth from his hand after reluctantly moving her face away from his and tenderly wiped her blood off his neck. She kept her eyes on his as she stretched her arm out, until her hand hung off the edge of the pallet and she let the cloth drop, hearing it splash in the bucket of water, then she placed her hand upon his chest. “Mate with me.”
He wanted more than anything to stretch over her, keeping his body just above hers as
he slipped slowly and deliberately into her and once snug inside her, he would take her nipple in his mouth and tease it with his tongue. He wanted nothing more than to do that, but her puffy, red lip, the tiredness that dimmed her lovely green eyes and another yawn warned that she was not up to mating.
He did not want to deny her or himself, but he also wanted what was best for her and at the moment it was not mating. He stayed as he was sitting beside her and ran a slow, gentle hand over her cheek and down along her neck.
“You are tired and should rest a while. We have time,” he said in a soft whisper.
Hemera sighed, his touch more caring than carnal. “Not enough time,” she argued on a yawn.
Talon smiled at her fight to keep her eyes open as he continued stroking her face and neck, his plan of lulling her to sleep proving successful. “Plenty of time,” he whispered. “Close your eyes at least for a few moments.”
“A few moments only,” she said as her eyes fluttered closed.
Talon continued caressing her until he was certain she slept soundly. He sat there staring at her, thinking how he had never denied himself or a woman pleasure, and though he ached for her, had grown hard with the need for her, his first concern was for her well-being.
He cared for this woman more than he should. He could try and deny it, but to what purpose? Fear had gripped him like never before when the ladder had broken and sent him and Hemera tumbling. His only thought was of keeping her from harm.
With a faint touch, like a feather delicately brushing over flesh, he ran his finger over her injured lip. That he had not succeeded tormented him. He had hit the ground hard, sending a jolt through his body, but he had given it no thought. His only concern had been for Hemera.
He had known little caring in his life, his mum having died when he was young and his father a hard task master. His da had taught him many things that had served him well and he had insisted Talon was meant for greater things and that the time would come when he would rule the Picts. He had warned him to guard his heart against caring too deeply, for a caring heart never ruled wisely.
Memories had Talon leaving Hemera’s side and standing near the fire pit. He had guarded his heart well and his father’s words had proven wise. No decision had proven difficult to him...until Hemera. No amount of guarding his heart had mattered. She had managed to chip away at every wall and shield he had constructed. Since her arrival several moon cycles ago, her innocent and honest nature had challenged him at every turn and to his surprise he had begun to enjoy their encounters. He had actually found himself looking forward to them, a warning sign he should not have ignored.
The King & His Queen (Pict King Series Book 3) Page 11
