by Beth Mikell
She had prayed for this moment. She had dreamed of a thousand words to say to him, but only two echoed through her mind. “Hold me.” She did not know if she said them aloud, but a sob ripped from her throat when his arms banded around her.
He held her tight, holding her close.
His scent bathed her, his familiar male essence mixed with the fragrance of winter and the smell of horses. For the first time in months, an inhale of air did not hurt or make her heart shudder with anguish.
There was freedom in his arms.
His tears mixed with hers, the salty taste was a healing kind of balm. His lips were warm as they caressed over her mouth. His beard was soft yet rough, tickling her cheeks, and she loved the sensation. She opened for him, her tongue seeking his flavor only her memories knew by heart. His scorching warmth ignited a dormant flame inside her. Time stood still as she lost herself in the moment, her hands urgent, clawing at him desperately until her tears were too much. A flood of searing emotions took her prisoner.
She jerked her mouth away, heaving under the pressure. He held her while she cried, burying his face against her neck. His own distress was equally gruff and heart wrenching. They simply held one another until their grief was but a whisper.
Finally, she pulled back, gazing up into his face. She caressed a hand over his bearded jaw, smoothing her fingers over his tears. “I almost gave up hope that I would see you again,” she rasped.
He shook his head. “I am so sorry, kitten.”
A painful smile tugged at her lips, yet faded quickly. From the beauty of his presence to the ghostly reminder of his why he was here and not serving his lord banished all her joy. Swallowing back the dry lump in her throat, she raised her chin, her hand falling to her side.
She took one agonizing step back, her gaze hardening. “You have seen me and you know I am well. Please go and never return.”
*.*.*.*
Adara’s words knocked the air from Rowan’s lungs. His head spun, and a fast inertia made him queasy. Had she really told him to leave? Would he lose her so quickly? Had he arrived too late?
He took a step forward, reaching for her, but she moved further away. “Adara, please,” he croaked. “Let me explain, lass. I never meant—”
“You were gone, Rowan.”
He exhaled a hard breath. “I was delayed. There is a difference, kitten.” She had used the same words once upon a day. His sweet kitten knew how to split a hair.
“You are an Elite knight,” she said firmly. “I know where your duty and honor begins and ends. I cannot leave HieLach, nor would I ever divide your loyalty. You cannot chose me over your obligations.”
He cursed under his breath, and then shook his head. “My loyalty is to you, don’t you know that?” He heaved, feeling himself breaking apart inside. He felt her slipping through his fingers, and his hands clenched into fists to steady the sensation of falling.
“You are foresworn to Lord Darrius,” she said matter-of-factly. “I will not dishonor you or your sworn duties.”
Emitting a low growl, he reached for her, but she slipped around him, heading for the main cave. He caught her arm, gently turning her to face him. “I love you, don’t you know that?” His hand trailed down her arm, taking her hand. He rested her palm against his chest over his heart. “Every second I was away from you, I could not breathe. I could not live. But I fulfilled my duty to my lord and he—”
She pulled away, her eyes glittering with tears. “Stop. I know the breath of honor, and what it means to stand firm in your duties. I will not be the catalyst for your ruination.”
His heart thundered in his chest. The more he tried to convince her, the more she was pushing him away. Yet anger burned his stomach, twisting his fury. “What about the bairn?” His jaw tightened. “What will you tell our child, my lady?”
Her lips quivered and more tears fell from her beautiful, dark eyes.
“I will be honest.” Her voice shook. “I will sing your praises and lift you up with goodness. Our child will know his father was one of the greatest warriors that ever lived,” she whispered, her caressing her swollen belly.
He shook head. “That is not enough for me,” he said coolly. He knew there was only one way to grab her attention. She was as stubborn as she was beautiful—he had to break through her reasoning or lose her. Since duty bound her, he would show her what duty meant to him.
Rowan took a step back, his hand reaching for the fastening of his mantle. He jerked it free, allowing the material to hit the floor. Holding her gaze, he took another step back, and he pulled her sword—the same one he had kept with him all these months. He dropped to one knee, and held the sword up to her with both hands like an offering. “My duty to Lord Darrius has been fulfilled, my lady. He has released me,” he said in a very clear tone, but his insides were shaking. “King Henry has given me permission to marry you, and I come to you with an open heart full of love. My allegiance is to you, kitten,” he said hoarsely, the sting of more tears gathered in his eyes. The purest emotion from the depths of his soul unleashed from him. “My sworn fealty is to you and our children. I ask you to marry me and live at HieLach—be my wife forever and always.”
*.*.*.*
Surrender flooded Adara’s heart. He never appeared more beautiful to her, and not because he laid aside his previous life, but he radiated pure love. She took one-step, raising her hand. “Rowan, please…” she trailed off, another tear tracing down her cheek. “Forgive me.”
His jaw flexed. “Do you accept, my lady?”
Nodding, she smiled. “Yes. Forever yes.” The sword hit the cave ground as he rushed to his feet, taking her into his arms. He crushed her to his chest. “God, how I missed you,” she said. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too.” He gently swung her up in his arms and strode to the main cave.
Crossing over to the bed, he set her on her feet. His hands were urgent as he peeled her out of her gown and smock. But he paused, appearing worried. “Can you—can we—is it safe?” he asked, smoothing his hands over the bare flesh of her belly.
“Yes.” She ran her hands over his tunic.
He leaned down, placing a chaste kiss upon the haven his child rested so sweetly.
The pressure of his mouth caused a wonderful heat to radiate out every nerve of her body. A soft smile edged her lips. “I need your hands on me, Rowan.”
He helped her settle on the bed, as he undressed. Joining her on the bed, he gathered her close. “There is no need to ask twice, kitten,” he murmured softly, simply holding her.
“Rowan,” she breathed against his cheek, her arms circling his neck.
He rolled up over her, staring down into her face. “Tell me you love me.”
Without hesitation, she whispered, “I love you.” His hard length brushed up against her warm, wet heat, and she sighed.
Her hands stroked down his shoulders, slicing over the cords of muscle. She loved how he arched into her touch, closing his eyes. His strength and the toughness of his body was perfection. And he was hers. “I cannot live without you. I need you with me always, Rowan.”
“Kitten,” he groaned, his lips chasing a sensual path downwards, capturing a nipple. He sucked it in his lips, paying homage to the sensitive tip.
She fragmented within a thousand, hungry pieces. She arched into his mouth, lured by his edge of his teeth scoring her sensitive nipple. Every part of her ignited with hot sensation. “More,” she panted.
Months without him left her needy. The warmth clenched her belly, consuming her. She was galloping close to oblivion.
His hand slipped down between them, teasing through her center. “You are so perfect, kitten,” he breathed, flicking her tender flesh. “Let me show you how much,” he purred.
She released a groan type breath, her nails digging into his shoulders as a spasm quivered through her. “Yes! Oh, yes!” Tingles skipped along her veins as goose bumps blew over every inch of her skin.
As
he stroked her, a vibration hummed through her heart, palpitating her breathing into a furious rhythm. Her legs opened wider, needing his touch as eagerly as she needed air. Rowan felt so wonderful. She could not contain the ecstasy simmering under the surface of her skin. A hazy cloud enveloped her, pulling her closer to release. She ached to fight it, wanting to prolong the pleasure.
“Rowan!”
“I am right here, kitten,” he rasped.
That was all she needed in order to let go.
A searing moan broke over her lips as deep spasms shook her body. Her toes curled. Her back arched. Pleasure melted her into weightless, but Rowan was not finished. Within a breath, he sank into her, riding the storm he had built. Her inner muscles clenched around him, urging him even as she clasped him deeper.
She loved the pleasure of his body inside her, and she rocked closer. She needed him deeper.
Hips met.
Mouths clung.
Hands were desperate skin to skin.
They surged together, riding their release with the sounds of their rapture echoing inside the cave. Their possession was raw, mutual, and forever.
“I love you, Rowan the McLeod,” she whispered.
He smiled. “Thank Heaven, kitten.”
Epilogue
HieLach
Rowan shut the door softly, turning to look at his wife and new bairn. His breath caught in his throat. He never knew a man could be so happy and his heart so full. He did not know which angel had granted him such felicity, but he was humbled beyond measure.
Striding closer to the bed, his eyes soaked in the sight. Adara sat against the pillows, holding their son. Her head was tilted down, and red braid hung over her right shoulder, while caressing their wee lad’s head. She was stunning. “I thought they would never leave,” he said, thinking of the hours it took for the mid-wife, Taryn, and Kayden to bid them goodnight.
She met his gaze, her lips curving into a smirk. “How can you blame them?” she asked, looking back down. “He is beautiful.”
He chuckled, climbing up beside her, peering over her shoulder. “Aye, that he is, lass.” His hand slipped around her, gathering her against his chest. His lips traced over her temple, basking in her earthy scent and warmth. He silently gave thanks to God for such a blessed moment.
“We should consider naming our sweet lad,” he murmured.
She turned to look at him, smiling. “I bet I know what you will pick.”
He blew out a breath. “Listen to you,” he said. “Married only five months and my wife already thinks she can read my mind.” He rolled his eyes, grinning.
She winked, and then she shifted the baby in her arms. “Hold him, Rowan. You will need to get closer in order to be introduced properly.”
He blanched. With all the bustle of other women cooing over his son, he had yet to hold him. He shook his head, a measure of fear threading through his veins. “He is too small, and—” Though he protested, he moved forward, taking the tiny bundle into his arms. Adara helped adjust the babe against his chest.
His heart melted a little bit more in love for his precious family. Looking up, he gazed into his wife’s dark eyes. There could never be a man more in love than him. Of that, he knew for certain. “I’d like to name him after our fathers. Samuel Angus,” he said gently.
A sparkle of tears gathered in Adara’s eyes, but her smile told him she was pleased.
*.*.*.*
Blackstone Castle
“In the Year of Our Lord, one thousand, two hundred and fifty-eight, I, Darrius of Blackstone, Imperial Arm to His Majesty King Henry the III, formally give credence to every truth written within these pages by the order of service granted unto me.
To my knowledge, the Gray Legion has been slain according to the laws of God, King Henry and by the laws of man—justice was served. I swear by my oath as a faithful servant and emissary of His Majesty with accuracy that every noted landholder of nobility within the boundary of the king held under my protection, will continue to be foresworn, maintained, and under direct affability.
I will continue to serve the great nation of England and defend the realm until my last breath. May God have mercy on the victims who endured years of hardship under the terror of the Gray Legion for they are blameless and without fault. May the God of Judgment render the final penitence.”
Darrius signed the parchment, affixing his seal of the Imperial Arm to the document as Brenna strode into the room carrying a baby girl in each arm with Liam walking beside her. Simon accompanied them from behind. His chest expanded with a tight inhale—a breath he released slowly. He could not imagine a greater surprise then to come home after the Gray Legion battle and find that his wife had given birth to another girl. Twins. Annora and Alexia. The love of his heart quadrupled, drowning out his apprehensions of Brenna giving birth alone. His brave wife amazed him daily and he could not be more proud and honored to call her his wife.
He rolled the parchment, handing the missive to his knight. “Simon, take this letter to the king,” he said.
The knight could not contain his shock, frowning. “My lord?”
A hint of a smile tugged at Darrius’ lips. “I know you are used to Rowan, Colin, or Dugan handling such matters, but they are now settled with their own families. You have shown yourself worthy to be a senior knight—my right arm if you will. Of course, Nyle, Angus, and Thomas are also senior knights, but you have shown a definite ability for handling decorum in adverse circumstances—without losing your head, I might add,” he said with a chuckle.
Simon cleared his throat, taking the parchment, and then he bowed. “I will take it at once, my lord,” he said, turning to leave.
“Simon?”
The young knight turned back. “Yes, my lord?”
“Did I ever thank you for going to find Colin?”
The knight paled. “You knew?”
Darrius inclined his head. “Relax Simon, Colin confessed it later. Had I known before…?” He trailed off with a wry twist of his mouth. “Stay out of trouble.”
Simon smiled. “Yes, my lord.”
Darrius never thought to have more in life than he did at this moment. Who could have told him the thanksgiving he would receive from his beloved wife, three children, and an extended family border to border.
As the chamber door clicked shut, he turned to Brenna, taking one daughter from her waiting arms. He leaned down to brush his lips across hers. “Little dove, I love you.”
A smile curved her mouth. “And I love you, warrior… my love… Darrius of Blackstone.”
The End
About the Author
Beth Mikell is an avid reader and writer across many genres. She is a native Floridian, yet at thirteen, her family moved to Alabama and as the years turned into several, she traveled to many countries such as Brazil, Turkey, and Iran. When it comes to writing, Beth likes to weave tales about love, loss, and rebuilding hope, either in fiction or poetry. She finds the most challenging part of writing to be the end—saying goodbye is never easy.
For more information, please go to https://bethmikell.wordpress.com/
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Dear Sweet Reader,
Thank you for taking the time to read Knights of the Imperial Elite. I'd really appreciate it if you could spare some time to write a review for my book. It will help me reach more people.
Best wishes,
Beth M.
Other Books by Beth Mikell
After * Burn Poems: Shadows of Brokenness
The Nysein: Salvation (Immortal Stain Series Book 1)
The Nysein: Release (Immortal Stain Series Book 2
The Nysein: Glimmer (Immortal Stain Series Book 2.5)
Fifth Dimension (Short Story)
Fallen (Short Story) Free on Wattpad
Essence (Short Story)
Aftermath (Novella)
The Imperial Arm (Knights of the Imperial Elite Book 1)
The Atonement (Knights of the Imperial Elite Book 2)
Armed Judgement (Knights of the Imperial Elite Book 3)
Knights of the Imperial Elite, Complete Trilogy Boxed Set
A Serenade with Beauty (A Kurdish Love Story) (Clean Romance)
*.*.*.*
Also Beth Mikell writing as Jessa Ely
Desperate Whispers
A Rude Awakening (Love & Lies Book 1)
A Beautiful Chaos (Love & Lies Book 2)
*Each story is a standalone, regardless of series.*
