by Quinn Loftis
“You did look like a man deprived of water before she showed up. When you saw her standing there, it was as if the skies had opened up and rained down upon you.”
Thalion’s mind slipped back to that day. The day the skies opened up and indeed brought life back to his dry, desert life.
The clouds rolled in the sky above them, hiding the sun and most of its light as Thalion and many of his warriors gathered around the sparring ring. The air was heavy with the moisture of the rain sure to come, but that heaviness was nothing to what the prince felt in his heart.
Twenty-five years had passed since he’d turned and walked away from the female he loved. Since that time, he’d thought of little else. Her face bombarded his thoughts, his dreams, even his nightmares. Thalion knew she was meant to be his, but waiting for her to come to that realization would be the death of him. He’d been sparring constantly, and though he hadn’t injured anyone seriously, he’d come close. As it was, fewer and fewer warriors were willing to walk into the ring with him. In his current mindset, he would not order anyone to do it. There were none who could match his skill or power on their best day, but he was especially deadly now that thoughts of Cyn consumed him like a plague.
“Duck!” Thalion heard and moved just in time to dodge a blade slicing through the air with deadly accuracy. He started to stand but had to throw himself to the ground and roll away when another knife came entirely too close to parts of his body he’d preferred not to lose. Thalion continued with the momentum of his body until he was on his feet. His eyes moved quickly around the area, seeking out the fool who would dare attack him without warning. The fool he found was an angry looking fae named Cyn.
Thalion opened his mouth to speak, but her arm was already in motion as another blade suddenly appeared in her hand. She threw it with a speed and accuracy that, frankly, turned him on. Her lips turned up into a smirk, even as her eyes narrowed in anger.
“Prince Thalion.”
Her voice rose above the shocked muttering of the warriors around him. Thalion glanced around quickly and realized that some of them had actually been poised to attack her. Fools. As a fae, she wielded a kind of magic most elves didn’t understand, and she looked just pissed off enough to use it. Apparently she was. She muttered some words and, all of a sudden, none of them could move. They stood frozen, watching Thalion and Cyn battle in front of them.
The fae continued. “I’ve come to ask for some assistance.”
“You have a funny way of asking,” he said coolly as he rested on the balls of his feet, ready to move should she decide to release the next blade.
She shrugged. “I decided maybe I needed to try a new tactic since none of my past attempts have been effective.”
Thalion swung his wrists in circles, the two short swords slicing in the air down by his hips. He was itching for a fight, and fighting his beautiful fae would be even better.
He motioned to the space in front of him. “By all means, beautiful, ask away.” He knew his words and the condescending tone would only anger her more. He was desperate to be closer to her, even if it meant enduring her violence. It worked. She was moving, her graceful, lithe body approaching him slowly, shifting her weight. Then, surging like rushing water, she came at him. The blades were gone, and in their place she held her own pair of short swords. Apparently she preferred to do her work with her adversary up close and personal. Thalion could appreciate that. With a chuckle he began running as well, until they met with a ringing clash in the middle of the ring. Their swords were a blur, practically singing to the heavens as they met time and again. Both elf and fae slashed and parried, over and over, their motions as quick as the lightning that flashed during their first meeting.
After several minutes without the slightest pause in their attacks, Cyn spoke. “I can do this all day. You will tire before me.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Thalion responded. “You might think you know everything about the supernaturals, but you have no idea what we elves are capable of. I can keep up this pace all day and night.” His smug smile was still in place and that seemed to enrage Cyn all the more. Without slowing her sword attacks, she placed a well-aimed kick to Thalion’s midsection. He grunted and jumped back out of sword range, shaking his head at her.
“That wasn’t very sportsmanlike.” He growled.
“Was it sportsmanlike when you walked away from me?” She spat out in return.
“Me? How many times have you turned and walked away from me, Cyn?”
She saw the hurt in his eyes and, for some reason, this made her even angrier. With a primal cry, she charged him again. This time he barely brought his own swords to bear in time to block her. Their swords rang out again. After a few more minutes, however, it was clear that Thalion was better with the weapon. Though she’d claimed she could keep up this pace all day, Cyn’s attacks were starting to slow, albeit almost imperceptibly. Indeed, the watching elves could not detect any weaknesses in Cyn’s attack. Thalion, on the other hand, knew he could best her. And as the fight wore on, he seemed to gain speed rather than tire. In truth, he was merely learning to anticipate Cyn’s maneuvers. He was truly an artist when it came to swordplay, and the elvish weapons he wielded were his paintbrushes. It had now been almost an hour since their fight began. If either of the two combatants had a second to glance around at the watching elves, they would have realized that Cyn had dropped their invisible restraints some time ago. Now the warriors stood watching in awe, transfixed by the beautiful display of swordsmanship in front of them.
Though he was enjoying the battle immensely, Thalion desired more than anything to be alone with Cyn. It had been so long. He needed to touch her, to feel her, to taste her. He couldn’t do that if she had a sword in her hands. Without warning, he smacked the hilt of the sword in his left hand into Cyn’s right wrist. She gasped, and her grip on the blade loosened. In the blink of an eye, Thalion batted the sword out of her hand and sent it flying across the arena. The fae growled and jumped back, squeezing her empty hand tightly.
“You shouldn’t have done that, elf.” The words came out low and deadly.
“Hey, you started this, remember?” Thalion responded.
“And I will end it,” she said, again in a low whisper.
All of sudden, Cyn’s own sword began to glow as she pushed her fae magic into the weapon. Then she whirled it slowly and sparks flew into the air. She rushed forward again, this time bring the sword over her head in a wide arc. Thalion brought both of his swords up over his head, blocking the glowing blade just before it split his head in two. They stared at one another across the swords, grimaces plastered across both of their faces. The three swords were locked in place as their owners struggled. Thalion’s two swords began to glow hot. He could feel the handle’s heat seeping through his gloves. He wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to be able to hold out against Cyn’s strength, which he had apparently grossly underestimated.
“Yield!” Cyn screamed at him, his face a mask of fury.
“Never,” Thalion responded through gritted teeth. “Never. I’ve already told you. I will never stop until you admit that we belong together. Make me wait. I don’t care. Ten years. Twenty years. A thousand years. It doesn’t matter to me. I will always be here.”
Cyn let out a primal scream as she pushed more of her power into her sword. Then with a blinding flash, the sword shattered. Pieces of the blade flew in all directions. The largest hit Thalion in the chest, sending him sprawling backward. The massive outpouring of power left Cyn exhausted and she fell to her bottom, gulping in deep breaths.
Cyn quickly crawled to where Thalion was sitting up from the ground. He looked down and grabbed the shard of blade, flinging it across the training yard. A small amount of blood oozed from the whole in his jerkin, but the wound seemed superficial.
Cyn was breathing just as hard as he was as she stared at him. The anger seemed to have simmered down, though it was still there, just below the surface.
She rolled her eyes. “Hardly. You’re still alive.”
“You wound me … literally.” Thalion coughed as he pressed his hand to his heaving chest. “Surely you do not really wish me dead.”
“I suppose I don’t … or you would be.”
He laughed. He couldn’t help it. She was sexy on a good day, but seeing her so angry only increased her allure. “My beautiful Cyn. You never cease to amaze me.”
The two clung to each other as they helped one another to their feet. Only then did they seem to realize they still had an audience, which seemed to be slowly coming out of a complete fugue state themselves. Then slowly, one by one, the elves began clapping until a great cheer erupted from the crowd. Thalion feigned humility and waved, but Cyn only held her all-too-familiar stoic mask in place.
“Warriors,” Thalion said, raising his voice to address the crowd, “this is Cyn of the fae. She would have us train together. Who here will step in the ring and spar with her?”
All of their eyes seemed to grow wider, and a few actually took a step backward. Thalion burst out into a huge belly laugh. “Well, maybe not today, then,” he said as he turned to Cyn.
“Shall we?” Thalion motioned toward the palace. He was surprised when she didn’t flash them there but instead began walking beside him. He wasn’t about to complain. If it meant she would be with him longer, he’d walk to the ends of the realm with her.
“I am not here to repeat my inquiry of my past visits,” she informed him.
That surprised him. Thalion knew how persistent the high council could be when they set their sights on something. His intrigue was peaked and he waited for her to continue.
“The high council has accepted that you are unwilling to put your people in danger for the sake of others. They have decided instead to request your assistance in procuring certain weapons. It is no secret elvish weapons are superior to all others. What just happened back there with my sword is proof of that. The fae would like to wield these weapons against our enemies.”
“Interesting,” Thalion said, nodding his head.
“And they are interested in allowing our warriors to come here and train with you and your warriors. We fae wield magic in battle, but you elves have unmatched skill in arms. Something else that was just demonstrated in that little display, I might add.”
“Why would you need skill in arms? As you said, you have magic. You can blast an attacker before he even gets close to you.”
“True, but blasting takes a lot of energy. We can only use so much magic without resting. At some point, we must resort to martial combat. And certain beings have their own magic that can sometimes be used to nullify fae magic. Better to be safe than sorry.”
Thalion was speechless. He couldn’t have predicted the high council would ask such a thing. The fact they were even willing to admit elves were better fighters was shocking. He mulled the prospect over in his mind. He couldn’t see any drawbacks. The proposal wouldn’t put his people in danger and could actually be lucrative for him.
“I will help.” He held up his hand to stop her from interrupting him. “On one condition.” Thalion could practically feel the frustration radiating off of the fae. He placed his hand on her arm, wrapping his fingers around her smaller frame, pulling her to a halt, and turning her to face him.
“And that would be?” she said in the cold tone he’d come to know intimately.
“You.”
“Me?” She scoffed. “I am the condition?”
“You are the price,” he clarified. “I want one night with you.”
“E-excuse me?” Cyn stuttered.
“You’re hearing and ability to understand are not in question, Cyn. You heard me.”
Her mouth opened and closed several times as she folded her arms defensively across her chest and shifted on her feet. He’d stumped her and that made him smile.
“Pick something else,” she said through gritted teeth.
“No.”
“Thalion.” Cyn practically growled.
“Say my name like that again, beautiful, and you will be staying more than just one night,” Thalion warned, taking a slow step closer to her.
“I cannot stay. You know that.”
He shook his head. “No. I know that you will not stay, not that you cannot. All you have to do is choose.”
“I have chosen,” she yelled, her perfectly held together composure finally cracking. The passion he knew lived inside of her came rushing out. “I’ve chosen to not pursue this foolishness. I’ve chosen to continue on the course set out for me. I am not an elf. I am a fae. I am not meant to stand at anyone’s side. I am meant to protect the weak. I was born to be a fae warrior, not the submissive, aristocratic wife of a prince.” Her breathing had increased as she grew more and more frustrated.
“Submissive?” Thalion said coolly as he felt his blood run cold. “Aristocratic? You really think I would ask you to change who you are or your purpose in life? I love you because of who you are!”
Cyn’s mouth dropped open. “You-you l-l-ove me?” Her voice was hoarse as her hand fluttered up to her throat. “That’s not possible.”
“Says who?” Thalion asked. His words were harsh as his anger rose inside of him. He couldn’t believe that she would think him so ridiculous as to want to take her from the things she obviously loved. Her passion for what she did was breathtaking to him and drew him to her. Maybe she wouldn’t resist him so much if he could make her understand just how precious she was to him.
“Thalion, we haven’t spent enough time together for you to love me,” Cyn reasoned.
“Exactly. Whose fault is that?” He could tell his words stung as she flinched away. “I understand your need to be in control of your emotions, Cyn, but to outright ignore them and deny my own, that I cannot abide.”
She didn’t respond. Her eyes seemed lost as she retreated into herself. Thalion wouldn’t let her off so easily. “Do you agree to the terms? You will stay one night with me.”
This seemed to snap her back to reality. She lifted her chin and met his stare. “And what is to happen if I do stay the night?”
“We will chase chickens and make soup,” Thalion said deadpan.
A small smile cracked her façade. “Why are you, you?” she asked in a weary whisper.
Thalion took this as her surrender. No matter how temporary it might be, she was his, at least for now. He walked over to her, quickly closing the space she’d put between them, and took her small face in his larger hands. “Stay with me.”
She nodded.
“Finally.” Thalion groaned before he pressed her lips to hers. It had been twenty-five years since he’d touched her, tasted her, or had the pleasure of her company, and he was thirsty for her.
Cyn’s arms reached up and wrapped around his neck, her hands tangling in his long hair. He felt her push herself closer and raise up on her toes as if she just couldn’t get close enough. She gasped when he pulled away, but he wasn’t done.
Thalion trailed his nose gently across her jawline and down her neck. Her flesh was petal soft and when his tongue darted out to taste it, he had to wrap an arm around her to support her weight as her legs gave out.
“So responsive,” he murmured against her collarbone.
Cyn let out a small squeak when Thalion scooped her up in his arms and began carrying her through the halls. He didn’t stop until he was before a large door where two guards stood. They pushed the door open and he kicked it closed, all the while pressing passionate kisses to her neck and shoulder. Thalion couldn’t get enough of her. He hadn’t realized how empty he’d truly been until she had returned to him.
He laid her on the bed and covered her smaller body with his own. His hair flowed over his shoulder, including the long braid, and he smiled when she reached up tentatively, biting her lip as she began to unbraid his hair. Thalion wondered if she understood just how intimate the act was. Just as feeding her fro
m his hand would be intimate, so was the act of grooming one another. No female had ever touched his hair, and no other female ever would.
“I love your touch,” he admitted as he closed his eyes and let out a low hum. “Your small hands humble me.”
Cyn shook her head as she blushed. “I am nothing special. I do not understand why you would settle for a fae warrior.”
“I have already told you. I love you. I care not what race you are or what your craft is. All I care about is that you are mine.” Thalion slid a hand up her calf, thigh, and hip, gripping her waist as though to reiterate his words.
“Yours?” Cyn asked, her fingers still working their way through the strands.
He nodded slowly as his eyes dropped to her lips. They were swollen from his kiss and flushed. He liked to see her so well loved. He leaned down and, ever so lightly, brushed her nose with his own. When her lips parted in surprise, Thalion closed the distance and slipped his tongue into the warmth of her mouth. He lowered his body so that he was pressed more closely to hers. The heat of her seeped into him, and the groan that rumbled out of him reverberated through his chest against her. She shivered and he grinned against her mouth.
“Do you like the way I feel?” he asked her, his hand sliding up her waist, across her chest, until he could rest his hand lightly on her neck.
Cyn opened her eyes and stared up at him. Her chest rose and fell, inviting his gaze, but Thalion fought the urge to look down at her curves. He didn’t want to take things too far. How he was going to stop, though, he wasn’t sure. He did know that he would not bed her until she was officially his. Thalion refused to disregard something so precious in such a way.
“What are you thinking?” he asked her.
“I’m trying not to think.”
Her breathless reply made him chuckle. “Perhaps that is best for the duration of our time together.” He rolled off of her so that he was lying on his side, propped up on an elbow while his other hand rested on her flat stomach. His finger began to trace a nondescript pattern on her abdomen as he stared down at her.
