I moaned, and he growled, gripping me tighter, his hand suddenly under my gown, sliding up my thigh…
“No!” I managed, wrenching myself out of his grip. He made a move to reclaim me, his gaze as wildly glittering as the predatory gríobhth, and I put my palm on his chest, holding him away. “No,” I repeated, firmly, quelling my own longing to have him hold me again. “We’re not safe,” I told him slowly.
His nostrils flared and his lip curled in a snarl, fingers twitching as if he might extend claws. Indeed his nails looked long and far too pointed. And he hadn’t yet spoken. My heart sank.
“Zyr, can you speak?”
He cocked his head, so like the gríobhth.
“Zyr, I—” I stopped, aware of a change in the noise level outside the cell. The barrier on it suppressed some sound, but not all. Someone was coming. “We have to go.”
Taking no chances that the gríobhth form might not be able to pass through the barrier, I held out the pendant to lead the way, and grabbed Zyr’s hand and pulled. He came willingly—though maybe largely so he could put his hands on me again—and he moved through the searing force better than I did. Good thing he had a hold of me, because I sagged and nearly fell.
He caught me, holding me upright, but lifted his head, sniffing the air. A low, ominous growl rolled out of him, one I’d never heard from him before, and that made my hairs stand on end. “Can you shift back to gríobhth?” I hissed at him, and began tugging him toward a window, praying one of these would open like the ones in my chambers—and widely enough to let us through. “It’s a sheer drop. You’ll have to shift, let me get on, then leap out.”
He scanned the room with feline intensity, still sniffing, fingers even more clawed now, showing no sign of understanding me. Despair dragged at me. We couldn’t fail now. Not when I’d come so far. Zyr came along more reluctantly as I dragged him toward the towering windows, his attention focused on the far side of the room. Near the entrance.
“Karyn!” The High Priestess called in her over-sweet fake voice. “You have something of mine. I should’ve known you’d come to find your pet.”
Zyr lunged in that direction, the growl rising into a keening snarl, but I kept his hand with all the strength in me, pulling him in the other direction along the windows. They shone in the moonlight, the glass clear, the panels soaring overhead, the seams between showing no latches. Curse it.
“I’m not angry,” she sing-songed. “All great transformations can be frightening. Deyrr forgives you, and I forgive you. Just—” Her mellow voice curled into a snarl of rage. She’d found the empty cell. “Where are you, you conniving thief!” she screeched. Truth.
Other voices joined hers now, calling out a search pattern. With one hand, I fought Zyr, who tried to pull me toward our enemy, strangling back a sob of frustration and terror as I scanned the windows, hoping against hope. If he’d had a running start, we could’ve maybe broken through them, but it was too late to try that with the High Priestess and the others searching for us, even if there’d been enough room.
And if Zyr had understood me.
A sparkle of moonlight caught my eye and I stumbled toward it, pulling the reluctant Zyr with me. At least he did follow. I had no illusions that if he’d truly tried to break free of my grip, with his superior strength he could’ve done so easily. Andi had told me I had an influence on Zyr she didn’t quite understand, so I used it. I pointed at the latch above my head. “Open that,” I commanded in a low voice, but with all the regal certainty I could put into it.
I could reach it, but I didn’t want him running off to fight when I turned my back. Indeed, he glanced longingly in the direction of the nearest voices. I grabbed his chin, making him look at me. “Open the latch, Zyr. Do it for me.”
His eyes lit with a fierce fire of lust, and he grinned, a salacious and sensual smile. Fine then. Better than the alternatives. He reached up, flipped the latch, and the window swung wide, icy wind pouring through. Zyr smiled at me hopefully and I imagined him wagging his tail, so I gave him a sound but brief kiss, pushing him back when he tried to prolong it.
“Thank you,” I told him fervently. “Now shift. Become the gríobhth and take us out of here.”
He frowned, the invisible tail lashing now, and looked back toward the calling voices. Near, so near.
“Zyr,” I begged him, “please, in the name of anything you ever loved, please please please take me out of here.”
“Well, what have we here?” The High Priestess crooned, then tsked. “Thinking you can escape me so easily? Is that what you thought, my precious princess?”
I wrapped my arms around Zyr, keeping him from lunging at the lovely blonde. She emerged from the shadows, her gown in tatters, her face spattered with the oily black blood of Deyrr. Hers or someone else’s, I didn’t care to know. She’d draped a heavy medallion around her neck—one I recalled from the priest—the glowing center another, smaller jewel like hers and the Star. Did they all have them?
Zyr wriggled against my hold, trying to get free—blessedly aware of not hurting me, though. I thought fiercely of him becoming the gríobhth, but I couldn’t concentrate as I had before, couldn’t form that image as surely as I had of him as a man.
“So clever, though,” the High Priestess sounded admiring, coming still closer. “You’re a natural, my friend, just as I knew you would be. See how easily the jewel responds to you? Deyrr chooses wisely. Give up this silliness now and come with me. The rite is not so terrible and you’ll love how you feel after—and you’ll have a jewel of your very own. You can even keep your pet and have it after your husband takes his due. I can see the appeal of your Tala pet, however. It’s quite the fine figure of a man. You’ll have to share. Come, pet, come to me.”
Zyr quieted, and though I couldn’t see her around his body, I knew she pulled on his strings. I glanced desperately at the open window. I could fling us out of it. We’d fall and die almost certainly, but better that than slavery. Zyr had said he’d rather be dead than a captive. So would I.
The choice is yours.
Maybe Andromeda had meant this all along.
So be it.
That cool clarity descended on me, the certainty of knowing. I eased Zyr backward. He’d gone eerily compliant, following my lead. My bare heel hit the low threshold of the window frame, howling wind freezing my back.
“Karyn.” The High Priestess sounded stern—and alarmed. “What are you doing?”
She lunged toward us and I threw her pendant at her. As I hoped, she leapt to catch it. Just enough to keep her from catching hold of us.
“I’m choosing,” I said, and fell back, taking Zyr with me.
~ 24 ~
We plummeted through the icy air, my mind still clear and calm, time slowing to stretch out the extended seconds. I had long moments to think about what I’d done—and to reflect that I understood now why Zyr had mocked me for calling his controlled drop “plummeting.” They weren’t the same at all.
This was so much worse. And lasted forever.
I braced for the crash against rock, aware of the wind of our descent pulling tears from my eyes, of Zyr against me.
I’d killed us both, and I sent a fervent prayer for forgiveness. Especially for my petty joy that we’d at least die together.
Then even that was ripped from me, as Zyr disappeared. I cried out, reaching for him, finding nothing. I would die alone.
As I no doubt deserved.
A whoomf of sound. The cry of an eagle.
No—the gríobhth!
And he caught me, gathering me in his front paws as if I weighed no more than one of the mapsticks. I dug my fingers into his silky fur, holding on with all the tenacity in me, burrowing into his warmth.
He flew, and I clung like a burr, tucking up my legs and feet to warm against him. I’d had some vague idea of me directing him, of spotting some shelter, but none of that mattered now. We were alive. We were escaping.
To where didn’t matter
so much.
After a while—I had no idea how long, as time had yet to regain its usual shape—he slowed, then circled. I craned to look, but saw only a chasm disappearing into lightless depths below. It gave me a sudden vertigo and I buried my face in Zyr’s fur, forcing myself to take even breaths.
Then he touched down, landing on hindlegs, wings working furiously to keep himself reared up as he opened his forelegs to ease me off him and set me down. My fingers cramped as I made myself let go, half-frozen, half-constricted from holding on so tight. I hoped I hadn’t hurt him, digging in so hard.
He set me on my rear end, because I couldn’t make my legs work. Snow and freezing stone beneath immediately penetrated the fragile lace, and I squealed, the shock doing what my mind couldn’t and making me crawl to my feet. The cold lanced through me, and I shivered violently. The moon must’ve set—or returned to Her usual course instead of following me—and the black of deep night shrouded everything. My bare feet were so numb I didn’t even feel the snow, and blasts of snowflakes hit my face.
Where on earth had Zyr taken us?
I turned my face from the biting wind—and saw a darker shadow against the night. A house? Taking a cautious step toward it, I slid on the ice, and Zyr caught my arm. Back in human form, and on his own, thank Moranu, but still naked, his skin bare under my hands. Before I knew it, he’d picked me up, carrying me in his arms and toward the house.
He knew enough to recognize a good place, dark as it was, and to find the front door—but he paused there, thwarted and uncertain. I reached for the latch, praying it wasn’t locked, and the door swung open. Zyr prowled in immediately, kicking the door closed, and blessed warmth enveloped me. I hadn’t expected it to be warm, and wondered if someone lived here, asleep somewhere.
Sconces around the room flared into light, and a fire in a huge fireplace roared to life. Zyr could still work his magic then. He carried me across the room to the fire and knelt, laying me on a thick, furry rug there.
“Zyr?” I asked. His face looked remote, feral, that animal ferocity in it. He looked at me, those hot blue eyes traveling to my scantily clad body and firing with lust. Lifting a hand, he touched my cheek, surprising tenderness in the gesture, then pushed his splayed fingers into my hair and following with his greedy mouth.
His body fell on mine, hot and heavy, his mouth urgent, and he gripped my hair, holding me there while he kissed me with fevered intensity. This wasn’t how I’d imagined it between us—or at all, as I thought he’d resigned himself to not wanting me. This Zyr, however, this gríobhth in a man’s body did want me with a consuming passion. He’d forgotten whatever qualms had made him refuse me, and I responded to his fierce sexuality with a furious desire of my own.
I wouldn’t have to talk him into taking my virginity. He wouldn’t balk now, and I’d both have him, at least for this one night, and the unwholesome god wouldn’t be able to take me.
The lace ripped, giving way as his urgently roving hands shredded it off me. With a distant thought, I hoped that if the house was occupied, they wouldn’t hear us. It didn’t seem possible to stop either of us now. I yielded to him utterly, giving voice to my moans and whispered encouragement. Not that he needed it.
His hands roamed over my bared skin, rough and delightful, his mouth following after to lick and nip at me. I writhed under him, lifting each part of me to him in offering, in whole-hearted surrender, giving myself as I’d longed to give my body to my husband. To my one true love.
For no matter what happened after this night, Zyr would be that to me forever. He didn’t need to marry me in some ceremony. We did this between us, in fire and glory, in a profound celebration of the most primal acts of life. I loved him and would give him everything in me.
When his hand cupped the slick and swollen flesh of my sex, I orgasmed, the pleasure ripping through me unlike anything I’d experienced at my own hands. The oils they’d prepared me with helped, but so did my own fluids, opening the way for him.
Before the spasms left me, Zyr pushed back my thighs and slid between them, the head of his cock pressing against my virgin passage. I lifted my hips, begging with voice and body, and his wild blue eyes met mine. His teeth had gone sharp, the shape of his pupils feline, but I saw him inside. I reached up to frame his face, beloved in all its angles and shades of beauty.
“I love you, Zyr,” I told him. “Take me now.”
He hesitated an endless moment, a glimmer of something in his eyes, a shadow of uncertainty. I slid my hands down his back, grasping his magnificent buttocks, and lifted my hips, pushing myself against him. He shuddered, the tension in his body enough to snap.
“Now, Zyr!” I commanded. “Do it!”
He thrust into me, the force of it making me skid across the fur. But he had a fist in my hair still, so I bowed up with a cry of agonizing pleasure. The orgasm returned as if it had never ceased, racking me with convulsions as Zyr thrust into my body, filling me unimaginably. His mouth fit over mine, drinking in my cries and I gave them to him with willing delight.
My love. My husband.
He wrenched his mouth away, rearing back and crying out in a great snarling cry, like no animal and all beasts in one. His pelvis ground against mine, sending a fresh wave of pleasure through me as he buried himself to the hilt, so deep inside me I knew I’d feel him there forever.
Then he collapsed over me, a heavy, hot blanket, his skin touching me inside and out. With a sigh, I kissed the salty, soft hollow at the curve of his collarbone, then let the sweet release and exhaustion take me.
When I awoke, the fire still blazed, but milky daylight glowed through the many small, square panes of the large windows, a blizzard raging outside. A fluffy blanket of silk and down covered me.
And Zyr was gone.
I sat up, the blanket falling away and my hair sliding soft and heavy over my naked back, the skin there sensitive as sunburn. I ached all over, my fingers and toes tingling, my sex deliciously sore. I’d well and truly lost my virginity. The sheer happiness of that—and how incredible the sex had been—curled through me with warm satisfaction.
Almost enough that my worry over Zyr dimmed. It rushed right back, however. He’d still never spoken to me, though I felt his essence, his mischievous personality, his intelligence, still inside. Perhaps he just needed time as a man to regain himself. Zynda had, so he could, too.
We’d been blessed with so much luck—or the beneficence of his goddess—that I refused to believe he couldn’t come back from this. There must be a way. We could fly to Annfwn and perhaps Zynda could help him. If a dragon could make babies live, she could surely help a grown man. I’d carve out a happy ending for us, no matter what it took.
Extracting myself from my furry nest, I stood and examined the remnants of the lace gown. Never sturdy to begin with, it had been reduced to a pile of mere scraps of tangled threads at Zyr’s demanding hands. The memory of his ferocity made me shiver, and my sex clenched, craving more. A clinking sound came from the other room, so I walked in there clad only in my wild cloud of hair.
Surely if anyone lived here they would’ve shown themselves by now. We’d hardly been quiet in our lovemaking.
Zyr stood in the kitchen, his back to me, and my heart relaxed to see him in human form and healthy. He, too, was naked, his black hair snarled and hanging down his back nearly to his masculine buttocks. I admired that sight—all mine, at least for the moment—along with his long and spectacularly muscled legs. He heard me and turned, giving me a view of the glorious front of him. He was as well-endowed as my sex remembered, and another wave of yearning rolled through me.
His face looked more normal, though he wore a wary expression that was not at all like his usual mischievous and confident self. The toll of captivity showed in the haunted shadows of his eyes, and I wanted to find a way to soothe that pain.
“Good morning,” I said, tentatively, as if I might spook him by speaking too loudly.
He only watched me, thoug
h I thought he’d understood me.
“Are we alone here—and safe?” I asked. Even if he remained the gríobhth in his mind, I knew he’d have patrolled his territory.
He nodded once, a shadow of beak slicing through the air. His gaze drifted over me, head to toe and back up again, and his face creased with concern. I walked slowly toward him, and he visibly braced himself. Stopping in front of him, I raised my hands to frame his face, as it seemed to calm him, and he flinched away. I paused, astonished, hands hanging empty.
He shook himself, that gesture of ridding himself of something unpleasant, and gazed at me steadily. Tension rippled through him, and his face showed deep unhappiness. With me.
I dropped my hands. He regretted what had happened between us. Oh, how that stung. A little piece of my heart broke off.
He said something to me in Tala. I recognized a few words, but struggled to make sense of it. I smiled anyway, glad at least for this much. It made sense that he’d regain his native language first. “You can talk again. Oh, Zyr, I’m so relieved. So happy for you, but I don’t understand.”
His brow furrowed, the frown daunting. My smile faded.
“I said,” he tried again, in halting Common Tongue, “that you should go ahead and hit me. I deserve that and worse. I deserve to be castrated.”
My mouth fell open, no words rushing to fill the space. “I don’t understand.” I’d repeated myself, but this went beyond language. “Can you explain?”
“Don’t you dare defer to me now,” he said in a rush, the words coming more easily, his face darkening with building fury. Not at me though, I decided. At himself. “You should hate me for what happened.”
“You were injured,” I said, shaking my head. “We were both taken captive. What the High Priestess did to me wasn’t your fault.”
He looked bewildered, then fury returned, though his face crumpled with it. Lifting his hands, he seemed about to take ahold of me, but he curled his fingers into helpless fists, shoving them down by his sides. “What did she do to you?” he growled, sounding exactly as he had in that night and moonlight-drenched solarium.
The Arrows of the Heart Page 28
