Love's Call

by C. A. Szarek

  “Shall we seize him there?” Leargan asked.

  “Well, my watchers think he’s gone home. So, we probably missed an opportunity. Then again, it’s probably safer to approach his lands. He doesn’t know we’re coming. He hasn’t learned where she is—at least from the questions he was asking at market, so ambush at his holding has less risk. There’s always a place for him to disappear in the center of the Province, especially at market.”

  “You’re pretty good, my lord.”

  Jorrin laughed and winked. “I do try.”

  The loud clop of galloping hooves had Leargan glancing over his shoulder. Both lords followed his gaze.

  “The horse is the wrong color, as is the wolf, so it’s your redhead, not mine.” Jorrin said.

  Tristan chuckled.

  Why was Ansley coming to the training grounds? It was much too early for midday meal.

  He watched her pull her white gelding to a stop, agitation fairly rolling off her.

  What’s wrong?

  She dismounted, and one of his men took her horse, leading Caide to the other horses.

  Ansley stood, wringing her hands in front of her. Dressed in dark brown breeches and a pale green embroidered tunic, her thick red plait swung over her shoulder and his stomach fluttered.

  Gorgeous. His.

  They made eye contact, and his feet carried him to her of their own accord.

  Ali sat next to her, regarding him with the same wariness in her yellow eyes as always, but the wolf didn’t move.

  Neither did his betrothed.

  “Leargan…” Her voice was soaked in worry.

  “Love?” Striving for normal, he ignored the uneasiness in her expression. Leargan pulled the fresh tunic over his head and yanked it into place.

  Shame, because Ansley had been staring at his bare chest.

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “Something wrong?”

  “I’m not sure.” Ansley worried her bottom lip.

  Leargan took a step closer. He wanted to hold her. Comfort her; wipe that look off her face.

  He pulled her into his arms, kissing the top of her head and inhaling her clean floral scent. Rightness settled over him. Though they hadn’t been lovers for very long, she was familiar against him. Perfect. “Ansley, what’s wrong?”

  “Is there something you’re not telling me, Leargan? Something you’re keeping from me?”

  Damn.

  His heart plummeted to his stomach and heat crept up his neck.

  Her eyes widened as their gazes collided, and he cursed himself to hell and back. It must’ve been written all over his face.

  “What is it?” she whispered.

  Leargan didn’t like the hurt in her expression.

  Why hadn’t he told her about the scroll from the start?

  Because she never would have agreed to marry you.

  He couldn’t lie to her; that would make it worse in the end.

  Would she still marry him?

  What if she changed her mind?

  No. Ansley was his.

  Leargan had always prided himself on his honor. He’d have to tell her the truth and hope for the best. He’d never want her to marry him against her will, despite the king’s order.

  He’d taken her innocence. He was obligated to marry her now. But he wanted to marry her. Wanted to go to sleep every night with her in his arms. Make love to her and wake with her in his bed. At his side. Leargan wanted it with all his heart.

  His heart?

  He pushed away the realization. Didn’t want to ponder what it could mean, what he knew deep down that it meant.

  “Leargan?” Ansley whispered. Hurt flared in her teal eyes. She’d taken his silence as dishonesty.

  He couldn’t stand it. Lowering his head, he captured her lips.

  Her arms tightened around him, and she opened for him as she always did, pressing her lush body closer.

  Ribald comments and laughter from his men distracted him, and he pulled away gently before he could lose his head to their kiss.

  Ansley blushed scarlet, and Leargan held her close as she buried her face against his neck.

  “I’ll tell you everything when we’re alone.”

  Her gorgeous eyes welled with tears when she lifted her head.

  “Oh, Ansley.”

  She didn’t even know what he was keeping from her, yet he was already making her cry.

  Wretch. The worst kind of liar.

  He cupped her face and thumbed her tears away. “Let’s go back to the castle. We can talk about this now.”

  Ansley shook her head. “No, it’s fine. I’m fine. Finish your duties.”

  “No, Ansley. We’ll go now.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  The ride back was fast and silent; Leargan stewed in his own head.

  Blessed Spirit, let me find the right words. Please let her understand.

  She had to marry him. There was no other choice. He needed her like he needed to breathe.

  Still she said nothing as he guided her down the corridor to her quarters in the guest wing. The room had quickly become theirs. The room he’d made love to her in every night except for one clandestine afternoon tryst in his quarters.

  Ansley’s hand shook as she reached for the door.

  Leargan sucked in a breath and pushed it open, gesturing for her to precede him.

  Her bondmate darted in front of them both, bounding over to the oversized bed and claiming its center. He bit back a glare, but it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like Ansley was going to jump naked into his arms after what he had to confess.

  Actually, he’d be lucky if Ali didn’t attack him when he was through.

  His betrothed stared intently at her wolf. She was thought-sending.

  Leargan guided her to the chairs by the hearth, gripping her hand as soon as they were seated facing each other, their knees almost touching.

  The scroll burned a hole in his pocket, and he swallowed back a wince, shooting another plea to the Blessed Spirit. He’d taken to carrying it daily. Leargan hadn’t even questioned why. Maybe subconsciously he’d been waiting for her to confront him.

  “Ansley…” Their gazes collided.

  Pain. All he could see was pain in her blue-green depths.

  His words dissolved. He fought the urge to pull her onto his lap and kiss her senseless.

  “What is it, Leargan?” Ansley whispered, averting her face.

  Leargan leaned in, cupping her face, forcing her to look at him. How was he supposed to start? He couldn’t let words tumble from his mouth without control or thought. He had to explain the scroll before he showed it to her.

  She had a right to see it, but he had to tell her how he felt.

  It wasn’t an order from his king. It was his greatest need to have her. Hold her. Marry her.

  “Do you know why you were sent here?”

  Red eyebrows drawn tight, she stared. “Aye. I brought a message, as is my duty, as a Senior King’s Rider.”

  “Aye, that’s what you were told.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Leargan swallowed hard. “Who asked you to deliver the message?”

  “King Nathal himself.”

  “Did you read it?”

  Ansley yanked away from him. “I would never do such a thing. Honor, as well as the Rider Oath is just as important to me as your code as a knight.”

  “I’m sorry, love. I meant no offense.” He reached for her hand, and she let him entwine their fingers. Her shoulders loosened as she settled back into the ornately carved chair. “What did he tell you of the message?”

  “Nothing I didn’t need to know. He said it was urgent, so I rushed here. That’s all my duty allows. It’s not my place to question an order or message, especially from King Nathal.” She cocked her head to the side, eyes narrowed. “What does this have to do with us, Leargan?”

  “Nothing. Everything,” he muttered. She studied him; he tried not to squirm. “Ansley, I know we
haven’t known each other for very long, but it doesn’t matter. I want to marry you.”

  “As I do you, Leargan. As we will,” Ansley said cautiously, her words drawn out, question in her voice.

  “Honestly, I want to marry you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life,” Leargan confessed, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “But I have to share something with you, because you have the right to know of it.”

  Her gorgeous smile was short lived, and she swallowed, making him want to kiss her throat. “All right…”

  Ansley’s eyes widened, when he dug the scroll from his pocket and tried to hand it to her. His hand shook as she stared, making no moves to grab the infernal thing. “Read it, love. I need you to read it.”

  ****

  “But it was for Lord Aldern. Why do you have it?” Heart pounding, Ansley reached for the parchment that had once been in her care.

  Leargan’s words were rushed and perched on the edge of his seat. “He gave it to me. Read it, and you’ll see why.”

  Dread rolled over her. Ansley’s stomach clenched, threatening to reject the meal she’d had less than two hours before.

  Something’s very wrong.

  She didn’t want to read the words on the scroll. She wouldn’t like whatever it said. Her gut told her as much.

  Leargan sucked in a breath when she opened it, but Ansley forced her gaze to stay on the message she’d delivered.

  King Nathal’s hand was neat. She’d recognize his tight perfectly-formed letters anywhere.

  Gasping as the words sank in, pain constricted her chest. The dagger sank in deeper with every sentence.

  The pale tan color of the stiff parchment blurred as hot tears cascaded down her cheeks. Ansley choked when her eyes focused on the word order.

  Skimming it a second, then a third time changed nothing.

  Her world crashed down, as if the walls of the guest suite were alive, crushing her, crumbling. Weight over her body, stealing her every breath. She fought through tight pain. If she let go, she’d pass out.

  Leargan doesn’t really want me.

  Ansley’s father and the king, along with her betrothed himself, had done nothing but deceive her.

  Cera and Jorrin, too.

  Did Aimil and Tristan know as well?

  Had her captain, Sir Artair, helped plan things, too?

  I was the only one in the dark.

  Tricked.

  By the people she cared about the most.

  Leargan would’ve never pursued her if not for the small piece of parchment in her shaking hands. He would’ve never kissed her in the corridor. Never asked her to marry him or taken her on a picnic. No wonder he’d resisted making love.

  Guilt. He’d honestly felt guilty.

  She was an obligation.

  Nothing more. An order to be fulfilled.

  He always obeyed orders. Especially from the king. It wasn’t in Leargan’s makeup to disobey.

  Everything they had was a lie.

  Biting back a sob, Ansley fought doubling over in the chair, the scroll slipping from her fingers and hitting the floor with a dull thud.

  It is too good to be true.

  Ansley should’ve listened to the warning in the back of her head the night Leargan had proposed.

  Ali let out a low keen from the bed.

  She shot her a look and quick thought-send to stay put, fighting for composure. I’m fine. I’ll be fine, Ali, my love. I will always have you.

  Her bondmate sent feelings of comfort and love. Ali couldn’t comprehend the why of her pain, but she knew what love and hurt were through their magic. She felt Ansley’s pain and wanted it to stop.

  Ansley clutched her bondmate’s feelings with both hands and wrapped them around herself through their magic. Ali was the only thing that would get her through.

  Leargan said nothing, and she couldn’t look at him.

  She couldn’t marry him now.

  I love him.

  Had for turns. But he didn’t love her. Not once had he uttered the words she longed to hear.

  What if she was carrying his child?

  Her body flushed, heart quickening again.

  She’d leave in the morning. Go home to Terraquist.

  If there was a child, she’d raise it; hold it dear. Have a piece of him. Leargan didn’t need to know. She’d never get away from him, if he knew.

  Ansley would just be a bigger obligation.

  “Love, talk to me,” Leargan urged.

  Her gaze shot to his. “Why do you call me love?”

  Leargan’s gorgeous dark eyes widened, confusion consuming his handsome face. “Because you are my love, Ansley.”

  He reached for her, but she shook her head, scooting her chair back.

  “No.” Ansley swallowed back a sob, shaking her head again. “I’m not.” His mouth opened, but she plowed on, not giving him a chance to speak. “I’ll tell my father you’re released from obligation. I’ll explain things to the king. You won’t have to follow an order you have no desire for. Marriage won’t be forced on either of us. Our betrothal is no more.”

  He glared. “Are you calling me a liar, Ansley?”

  She looked away. Her whole body trembled, even her teeth rattled. Tears clouded her vision again.

  “Did you not listen to what I said?” His tone was low and deadly. “I told you I want to marry you. You can’t believe after all we’ve shared I don’t want you?”

  Hope leapt up, but she quashed it.

  She was nothing but the fulfillment of an order.

  Duty.

  Leargan was all about his duty to the king.

  “You don’t have to say those things, Leargan. It’s the king’s plan. I understand now. I’ll speak to my father. I’ll tell him I’ve released you.”

  “Dammit, Ansley! I don’t want to be released. I meant what I said. You’ll be my wife. King Nathal may have started this, but it has nothing to do with us.”

  “You don’t really want me,” Ansley whispered, barely able to shove the words past the lump in her throat.

  Why was he so blinded to his duty he couldn’t tell her the truth?

  This wasn’t about her. He didn’t love her. He didn’t really want to marry her.

  Leargan stood and yanked her out of the chair, plastering her to his chest as he claimed her mouth. Hard and demanding, this kiss was different than the tender heat she was used to from him. He bruised her mouth as his lips moved against hers.

  His tongue invaded her and Ansley melted into his chest on a moan. He forced her to open for him like she always did on her own. Her body warmed and liquid desire settled between her legs. She ached for him.

  His erection pressed into her thigh and she nestled even closer to his chest.

  Ali lunged from the bed, gnashing teeth and growling.

  Leargan jumped away from Ansley as her bondmate backed her former betrothed into the hearth.

  “Ali. No!” She slipped between them before her wolf could hurt the man she would always love. Ansley cupped her bond’s jowls and stared into her yellow eyes. Leargan didn’t hurt me, love. I promise. Go to the bed. Now. She caressed the she-wolf’s great head.

  Ali obeyed, but whined, tail plastered between her legs even as she leapt to the sleeping furs.

  Leargan’s body remained tight and he slowly moved away from the fireplace.

  Ansley tracked him, glaring. “Don’t touch me like that anymore,” she ordered.

  She wished the scroll had never happened. Wished she could rush back into his arms. That she could kiss him, and they could fall into her bed entwined like they’d done so many times before.

  That’s done now. Forever.

  “Why?” He stopped not far from the door, dark eyebrow lifted, and one corner of his mouth up.

  Her heart stuttered as she regarded him.

  A hardened knight, a warrior was staring at her, not Leargan, her tender lover.

  Pain threatened to overtake her. Her tongue swept ove
r her bottom lip, stomach flipping when she tasted him there.

  His scent clung to her tunic. Sweat from training as well as the clean masculine musk that was just Leargan.

  It didn’t disgust her, she wanted to cling to it, wrap herself in him.

  When she’d seen him shirtless on the fighting grounds, shiny with sweat, Ansley’s insides became mush. No matter how many times she’d seen the defined muscles of his chest, touched them, tasted them, she’d never get enough of Leargan.

  Now…now that would be a thing of the past. A memory to cling to.

  A sob escaped and she covered her mouth with her hand.

  His expression hardened. “You like what I do to you, and we both know it.”

  Heat crept up her neck and settled in her cheeks, starting the slow burn of desire all over again.

  Leargan took a step toward her. “Deny it, Ansley. Deny you want me.”

  Ali growled low in her throat, but Ansley stopped her with a quick mental command. “That…that…doesn’t matter anymore.” She couldn’t deny she wanted him. She always had. Her body always would; no matter, her heart knew better.

  His gaze bored into her, neither of them moved.

  Ansley gasped. “That’s it…isn’t it?”

  “What?”

  “That’s why you’re insisting on marrying me.”

  “What nonsense are you thinking now?”

  She cringed at his hurtful words. “Because of what happened between us, you think you have to marry me. Well, you don’t. I won’t mention it to my father or the king.”

  “That’s not why I want to marry you.”

  She could feel the heat coming off his body. Ached for him. To be in his arms. For everything to be all right. Believe the words coming out of his mouth, but she couldn’t. “Then, why?” You don’t love me. Tears scalded her cheeks and she swiped at her face. “I won’t tell them I’m no longer a virgin. You don’t have to do the honorable thing, Leargan.”

  “Damn it, Ansley! I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a liar.” Leargan’s fists clenched tightly at his sides, high cheekbones flushed with color.

  Ali growled again, but neither of them acknowledged her.

  Ansley shook her head, averting her gaze.

  He was a liar. He’d kept the scroll from her.

  “All your denials may be for naught. Did you think about that?” Leargan’s voice was low and serious.