Love's Call

by C. A. Szarek

  Roduch’s heart sped up, as she tilted her lips, only an inch from brushing his. “Avril?”

  “Don’t you want to kiss me?”

  When he cupped her cheeks, she leaned in, closing her eyes.

  Blessed Spirit, help me.

  “Aye. But I don’t want to scare you.”

  She met his gaze, full tempting mouth curving in a soft smile. “What if I want you to kiss me?”

  Roduch swallowed hard. She wanted him to kiss her? “Well, I suppose I’d have to oblige, since my lady wishes it.” His voice was too husky, making his jest fall off a bit.

  “Kiss me, Roduch.”

  Slow.

  It was what she needed.

  Tender. Careful.

  He needed to treat her like the innocent she truly was. Show her what he felt for her. Show her what real intimacy was all about.

  Intention and thought fled when his lips touched hers. Soft and so sweet he had to have more. Roduch had to have her.

  Groaning when she opened for him, he slipped his tongue in her mouth without hesitation.

  Avril didn’t hesitate either, which only made his blood run hotter.

  She kissed him back fervently, their tongues dueling, then melding, and she slipped her arms around his neck to move closer, slanting her mouth even harder against his.

  Small, firm, perfectly round breasts flattened against his chest as she lay completely on top of him, and Roduch wrapped his arms around her. He caressed her back, then followed the curve of her firm bottom.

  His manhood pulsated; there was no way she couldn’t feel him against her.

  Roduch squeezed her rear end, shifting her so she straddled him.

  Her sleeping chemise rose up around her waist. Her thinly covered sex landed on his. He rocked under her, hands shooting down her thighs and calves.

  Skin was soft, smooth and warm. He needed more.

  Avril moaned into his mouth, and his hands shot up her back. He buried his fingertips in her mess of curls, tugging her even closer as his grip settled at the back of her neck.

  He devoured her mouth, but she was right with him, kissing him hard.

  He had to get inside her. Now.

  Roduch’s pulse thundered in his ears as she rocked in his lap, and his spine tingled like he was about to orgasm.

  Small hands on his stubbled cheeks jolted him. Her touch burned him, but he craved more.

  So real. Felt so good.

  Fighting a tremor, he gripped her waist. He needed to flip them, needed her beneath him so he could get inside her like he had so many times before.

  Wait.

  This isn’t a dream. This is real.

  He was in Avril’s bed in the guest wing of Castle Aldern.

  This was their first kiss.

  She wasn’t ready to make love.

  What the hell is wrong with you?

  Roduch was no better than her bastard former husband. He broke away.

  You are the worst kind of wretch.

  He lifted her gently off him, setting her on the bed. Roduch panted against the headboard, struggling for breath and coherent thought. “You taste better than in my visions. You feel better in my arms,” he blurted.

  “Then what’s wrong?” Avril’s emerald eyes wide. Her small breasts rose and fell as she too panted, her gorgeous ivory skin flushed with color, lips kiss-swollen. Her nipples were peaked, pushing against the material of her chemise.

  “Nothing…” Roduch groaned.

  “Why did you stop?”

  “Because, love…” He flinched. No way he could avoid the term of endearment after what they’d shared. She was his love. “I want you.”

  Confusion flickered in her beautiful eyes, then rolled over her expression. She averted her gaze. “I’m not a virgin.” Wringing her hands on her lap, Avril worried her bottom lip with her teeth. Her tone dripped shame.

  He cursed. Sucking in a breath that did nothing to calm his roiling anger at her bastard former husband, he cupped her face and forced her to meet his eyes. “But you are, love.”

  Her eyes clouded with tears and she shook her head. “I…I’m not. I’m…damaged goods.”

  “Avril, no!” He would never let her think she’d been ruined.

  She was perfect. She was his.

  “You have never willingly given yourself to a man, so you are innocent, and I’ll treat you as such. I won’t pressure you into anything you’re not ready for.”

  Avril’s tears spilled over, and he thumbed them away. “So…you’d want me anyway? Even though Tynan…”

  Roduch growled and silenced her with his lips.

  Avril clung to him, balling his tunic as she moved her mouth under his, pushing closer until he wrapped his arms around her.

  He kissed her deeply and thoroughly, ignoring the insistent throb of his body. He wouldn’t take her tonight, even if she said she was ready.

  She sighed when they parted, but stayed close. “Roduch?”

  “Aye?”

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Saying you want me.” Avril settled against his chest.

  He rubbed her back in large soothing circles, nestling their bodies down under the thick sleeping furs. “I do want you.”

  It’d probably petrify her if she knew just how badly.

  “I…” She looked down, but then took a deep breath and met his eyes. “I want you, too.”

  Roduch’s breath caught.

  What?

  Had she just said she wanted him? After what she’d been through?

  “Avril, I…” He swallowed hard.

  She presented a shy smile and pressed her lips to his. It was sweet and much too short. “I’m nervous. It’s new for me. But it’s honestly how I feel. If my body burning and aching for you is want.”

  Roduch nodded. “It is. That’s desire, love.”

  “Then…I want you, Roduch.”

  His admiration for her shot up. Avril was the bravest woman he’d ever known. He kissed her forehead, gathering her closer. “Tell me when you’re ready. I’ll be here. Waiting for you. Always.”

  A brilliant grin bloomed and she nodded.

  Roduch’s head spun. The smile was reminiscent of his visions. “I’ll do anything for you, Avril.”

  He bit his tongue to keep I love you from tumbling out. She wasn’t ready for that, either.

  “You really had visions of me?” Avril’s whisper was low, her tone as curious as her expression.

  “Aye. Since I was a lad of about seven.”

  “Seven? I was much younger when I had my first vision.”

  “What do you think that means?”

  “I’m not sure.” She cocked her head to one side, green gaze boring into him. “I sense nothing from you. Nothing. I’ve always been able to sense magic.”

  “Perhaps we should ask Lucan what he thinks. One of his gifts is understanding the nature of magic. I swear to you, I’ve been seeing you most of my life.”

  Avril winced. “Looking at Lucan hurts.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I see auras. His is so bright, he hurts my eyes. Makes my magic ache. He’s so powerful. I’ve never met someone with so much magic.” She sounded fascinated, and it made him frown.

  Roduch chided himself. He was jealous of a lad of four and ten?

  She smiled and it had his heart tripping all over again. “He wants to be a knight so badly. I hope he succeeds.”

  “How do you know?”

  Looking away, she frowned. “I didn’t invade his privacy. I promise. It’s just…” Avril met his eyes. “He wants it so badly my magic just picked it up. I didn’t have to concentrate to see or anything.”

  “I’m not mad, love.”

  “I won’t use my magic to hurt anyone. Ever. But sometimes I see things. Not only about people, but…I…see things.”

  “Things?”

  “Premonitions. Sometimes I know when something will happen.”

  “That’
s happened to me a few times in my life.”

  Brows drawn tight, she scooted closer, studying his face. “When?”

  “Once when I was a page, I dreamt of a rockslide where a lad was hurt. It happened the next day. I felt terrible for not telling anyone. Other times it’s just been a sense, or a flash, nothing solid. I also dreamt of Lord Varthan killing Lady Cera’s family before it happened. I acted, but we were too late.”

  Her eyes clouded with tears, and Roduch wiped them away.

  “I saw that as well. Tynan believed me, but didn’t care. I wanted to tell someone. I…couldn’t do anything about it.” Avril shook her head, frowning. “I suppose the Blessed Spirit punished me. I couldn’t sleep for over a sevenday. The visions haunted me.”

  “Neither could I. I had the same dream over and over again.”

  Avril blinked. “Tell me.”

  Roduch explained as much as he could remember about the dream of the dark man and his shades. All dead now, and the better for it.

  The dream had been flashes of rage, fire, rape and magic. And death. Visions of blood and the deaths of good people. All for a magic sword and lust for power.

  She gasped. “Mine was the same. To the last detail.”

  “We had the same dream? Over and over again, no less. How could this even be?”

  “I don’t know. Can you call on your magic? Force a vision?”

  “Never. I’ve tried many times to see you.”

  “I don’t know anyone who can’t use their magic when they want to.”

  “I only ever wanted to see you. Other than that, my so-called magic never mattered to me.”

  Avril cuddled closer. “I think we need to talk to Lucan. You’re right about that.”

  “Aye, love.”

  Meeting his eyes, she smiled. “I like when you call me love.”

  “Good, because I like calling you love.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The lad’s face scrunched up even though his eyes were closed, and his fingers around Roduch’s hand tightened. Sweat broke out on his brow, and his dark hair was damp all over. His already-glowing skin increased in radiance and Roduch had to squint to keep looking at him.

  Avril sucked in an audible breath and crushed her eyes shut.

  They had their hands joined, sitting in a semi-circle on the floor of Avril’s guest room. Lucan had explained he needed room to work, and he needed them all touching.

  His gut told him to make Lucan stop whatever was doing, but when Avril squeezed his hand as if she’d read his mind, Roduch made himself relax. He loosened his shoulders and sat taller.

  After minutes that felt like hours, Lucan opened his eyes. The lad sucked in air, his narrow chest rising and falling. “I sense…”

  “Go on,” Roduch urged. He and Avril exchanged a glance and he looked back at the young knighted mage.

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?” Avril’s voice was a squeak.

  Roduch’s stomach flipped and he looked into her green eyes, then at the lad for the third time. They both had dark hair, green eyes. The two could be siblings.

  “No magic in Roduch,” Lucan said. “No magical reason for him to have been having visions of you, Avril. Let alone for turns, like he did.”

  He released each of their hands, but Avril didn’t separate herself from Roduch.

  “I probed until my head spun.” Searching for magic—and understanding it—were what the lad did best. “It doesn’t matter how far I tried to delve. I see yours. Not his.”

  “It was hard to look at you,” Avril whispered.

  Lucan cringed. “I know. The more I use, the brighter I get. Your aura is the same way; your skin just doesn’t glow like mine. Or Tristan’s when he heals.”

  “My aura glows?”

  “Aye, anyone who can read auras would have no problem seeing it. It would brighten and change colors depending on what you’re doing with your magic and how you feel about it.”

  Surprise dominated her expression “You know a lot about magic.”

  The lad blushed. “Cera’s cousin Avery is a magic scholar, as well as a mage. We study old magic books together via an open-window spell. We can see each other through any flat surface to have a lesson, even though he’s in Tarvis. He’s helping me learn about my powers.”

  “Lord Lenore is a good man,” Roduch said.

  Lucan smiled and nodded, but looked back at Avril. “Don’t worry, it’s not abnormal that you can’t see your own aura, even in a mirror, though Blessed Spirit knows you have strong magic.”

  It was Avril’s turn to blush. She scooted closer to Roduch, and he disengaged their hands and threw his arm around her slender shoulders. She was leery of her magic. His gut told him she was rarely seen for being herself. Her parents had practically sold her to her former husband for her magic.

  “What about me?” Roduch asked.

  “I wouldn’t know the reason, logically or magically, but maybe her magic was the cause. Somehow, Avril was projecting her gift onto you, even though you were far away geographically, and even though she hadn’t a clue she was doing so. I’ll talk to Avery tonight and see what he thinks, but it’s the only thing that makes even the smallest bit of sense to me.”

  Avril locked eyes with him, but Roduch didn’t have a word to say on the matter. Silence descended.

  Lucan cocked his head to one side, deep in thought. “This is proof.”

  “Proof of what?” Avril asked.

  “Fate is real. The Blessed Spirit guides us, even if we don’t always know the reasons.”

  The lad grinned, and when Avril’s mouth turned up in a shy smile, Roduch’s heart sped up.

  “Fate,” he whispered.

  “I believe we’re not supposed to understand everything. If we did, faith would be affected,” Lucan whispered. His expression clouded. “We have to have faith, or we won’t survive.”

  Roduch squeezed the lad’s forearm. No doubt he was thinking of that bastard Varthan. “Thank you, Lucan.”

  Green eyes wide, the lad nodded. “Anytime, Roduch.”

  “You’re a good man, Sir Lucan,” Avril said.

  Lucan reddened to the tips of his ears, but his smile could have split his face.

  “Thank you for restoring my faith,” she whispered.

  Roduch smiled at them both. “Just what I wanted to hear.”

  ****

  Ansley’s laughter made him smile, until he came closer and spotted who she was laughing and talking with near the personal guard’s table in the great hall.

  A wave of jealousy hit him in the chest. He wanted to smash Alasdair’s face in.

  The tall, dark-haired man was the eldest of the twelve of his men, at thirty turns old. Alasdair was handsome, women gravitated to him. It didn’t matter that the knight was exceedingly loyal to Leargan.

  Ansley was his, damn it.

  It was no secret they were betrothed, so why was Alasdair talking to her?

  Jolting in his boots, Leargan shook his head.

  What’s wrong with you?

  Ansley would never betray him with another man; he knew it as sure as he knew how to breathe. And for that matter, Alasdair wouldn’t touch another man’s woman. He might be loose with his favors, but never with an attached woman, even if she pursued him.

  His longtime friend saw him first, over Ansley’s red head, inclining his head. “Captain.”

  Leargan ordered himself to relax and pushed away the urge to snatch Ansley tight to his side. “Morning Alas. Ansley.” Her name came harsher than he’d intended.

  Ansley turned, giving him a brilliant smile that said she wasn’t bothered by his bark, or she’d missed it.

  He blew out a breath when Alasdair winked.

  “Morning,” Ansley said. She was at his side in seconds.

  He craved touching her, as if he hadn’t left her bed less than an hour ago. Leargan dropped a kiss on her cheek, throwing an arm around her shoulders. He resisted the urge to gather her to him take her
mouth properly.

  How could he need Ansley so much? He’d taken her no less than three times during the night.

  “Alasdair was just telling me some stories about when you were little.” Ansley grinned.

  Alasdair had been raised as a foster child at Castle Rowan in Terraquist, as had Leargan and several of the other members of his guard. He was seven turns Leargan’s senior, but they’d spent a great deal of time together growing up.

  Leargan could only imagine what he’d told Ansley. Most of the things they’d done together involved mischief. Some of which should never be uttered. Ever.

  He met Alas’s dancing blue eyes. “Please don’t tell me you told her about the stables.”

  Alasdair burst out laughing, but shook his head. “I’d almost forgotten about that.”

  “What happened at the stables?” Ansley asked.

  “Never mind, love.” Leargan bit back a groan. He’d walked right into that.

  “Oh, come now, Captain. She’ll be your wife; she needs to know all about you.” Alasdair beamed.

  “Yes, Captain. I need to know.” Ansley tugged on his arm, meeting his eyes. The smile on her full mouth took his breath away.

  Leargan cleared his throat and glanced at his friend. “Well, what did you tell her?”

  “I told her about the time we got caught peeping in the servant lasses’ bath house.”

  “Ah!” Leargan chuckled. “I took the fall for you and a few older ones, if you recall. I was only ten turns old. I didn’t even know what I was looking at.”

  “Oh no. It may well have been my idea, but you were there all the way, Captain.”

  Leargan laughed again, and Ansley broke out into a fit of giggles.

  “The king himself tanned my hide that time,” he admitted, wincing. “But I was still mostly innocent.”

  Alasdair made a weak protest, but laughed. “I suppose you’ll accuse me of corrupting you. Introducing you to women at far too young an age?”

  “Corrupting me?” Leargan asked. “I’ve never thought about it that way.”

  His fellow knight winked.

  A time in a tavern—no—many times in many taverns, danced into Leargan’s mind. Perhaps, Alasdair had tried to corrupt him. Especially when he’d taken him to that place in Terraquist Main at five and ten to become a man.