Bride of the Traitor: A Prophecy of Sisters Novel

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Bride of the Traitor: A Prophecy of Sisters Novel Page 23

by Faiman, Hayley


  I feel her flutter around me and she gasps before she lets out a wail that if I didn’t know she was reaching her peak, I would think that she was being hurt. I don’t stop, my own climax hard on the heels of hers.

  “Who has just made you come, Sybilla?” I grind out.

  “My King,” she says through trembling lips.

  One. Two. Three. Four strokes and I bury myself deep inside of her with a roar of my own against her neck. I stay with my chest pressed against hers, one hand at the back of her head, the other holding one of her thighs open as I attempt to catch my breath.

  “Elias,” she breathes.

  “My Queen,” I mutter, lifting my head from her neck as I look into her golden gaze.

  She lifts one of her hands and as she so often does, she extends her finger and traces my scar down my eye. I don’t mind because she’s never looked at that scar with pity. She’s admired it with curiosity, but never pity. Now she looks upon it with longing.

  “Sybilla?”

  She presses her lips together before she releases them. “Must you join them?” she asks.

  Frowning, I stay buried inside of her, but search her eyes for an answer as to why she’s asking this of me. She sighs, her finger tracing my scar a second time.

  “I have a bad feeling about all of this, that’s all.”

  Nodding, I touch my lips to hers in a brief kiss. “Godiva and Aleida visited me before I came up to you,” I admit.

  “They told you everything?” she asks.

  I hum, running my nose alongside her own. “They told me that you experienced a pain, that they sensed one of your sisters had breached our world, that she was possibly somewhere, but they had no idea where. They also said that you had a bad feeling within you about me and this war.”

  “And you’re still going?”

  Smiling, I touch my mouth to hers again before I trail my lips down her neck, sucking on her tender flesh every so often.

  “I would not be the man that I am if I did not go, Sybilla. I am not weak, I am not a coward, and I do not fear death except to leave you alone and possibly with child,” I explain.

  One of her hands slides through the strands of my hair and she tugs my head back, forcing me to look into her golden glittering gaze. I should be angry with her for the move, but I cannot, as it is beautiful to see her passion and protection rising. She will be a good mother to our babe.

  “It is never weak to protect yourself, Elias.”

  Smirking, I tug her head back slightly by the grip that I still have in her hair. “Nay, it is not weak to protect yourself or your family. It is, however, weak to hide like a cowering animal in the face of danger. The man who rules Llyne is evil. He treats his subjects deplorably. He taxes them and does not care that they cannot feed their families. He does not deserve to rule a household, let alone a country. My father made a selfish deal when he gave that man our land and I will right his wrong.”

  Sybilla runs her teeth along her bottom lip. “Why do you have to be so damn good, Elias? Why can’t you save yourself from whatever is about to happen? I know that it is something. Something terrible,” she whispers.

  Releasing my hold on her hair, I slip from her body and gather her in my arms as I lie us down in the bed, tucking her close to my side.

  “All will be well, sweeting. The gods would not give you to me, would not guide us through different worlds to find one another and then rip us apart. The prophecy will be fulfilled and whether good or evil comes from that, we will be standing side-by-side throughout it all.”

  There is a period of silence while I run my fingers down her back and hip, then up again, over and over, trying to memorize every square inch of her soft flesh before I must leave, so very shortly.

  “I hope you’re right, Elias,” she whispers.

  “Do not become over-emotional and ruin the good weather we seem to be having.” I grin, looking down at her.

  She lifts up slightly, her eyes narrowing. “I can’t help that,” she snaps.

  “I jest, sweeting. A light drizzle of sadness when I leave you would not be amiss, for I know that I will be feeling sad as well. I do not wish to leave your side or your warm, soft body.”

  Sybilla leans forward and touches her mouth to mine. “I should be offended that it’s only my body you don’t want to leave, but I have to admit, I don’t want your hard body to leave me either.” She laughs softly.

  Sliding my tongue around her mouth, tasting her, I let out a grunt as I release the kiss. “The gods created you for me, Sybilla. I am never leaving you.”

  She sighs and closes her eyes as she nestles against me. “I love you, Elias,” she exhales.

  I know not if she realizes she’s said the words aloud. My heart hammers against my chest and I close my eyes and let those three little words soak in. My arms flex around her, holding her close to me. I love her more than words can express. More than I could ever admit.

  SYBILLA

  “It is very beautiful here,” Ellyn whispers.

  Jasmine, Ellyn, Katrina, and I are standing at the top of the castle steps. The men are finishing packing their belongings, arming themselves with their personal weapons of choice.

  They are all going, all but a few soldiers that I do not know, who will guard the outer walls of the castle. I won’t have Rowan and Henry to watch over me anymore, nor Merek to stay at my side and attempt to teach me how to ride Lightning.

  My stomach clenches with fear of the unknown. “It is lovely,” I whisper, never taking my eyes off Elias.

  He’s dressed in a black tunic that is trimmed in gold. His tights are also black and his boots are a dark brown suede. He reaches for a chainmail long-sleeved shirt and with the help of Rowan and Lief, they guide it on over his head.

  The other men don their own chainmail shirts, then I watch as they all wrap a chainmail skirt around their waists.

  My mouth goes dry at the sight of him in part of his battle regalia. I know from history books that he probably has some other armor, but honestly, I don’t want to see it, ever. I want to pretend that he’s going on some other mission, not into war.

  As if he can feel my gaze focused on him, Elias lifts his head, his eyes collide with mine. He finishes doing something to Storm, then turns to me and marches up the stairs. Without a word, he wraps me in his arms and pulls me against his rough chainmail shirt.

  “I will return to you, My Queen,” he rasps.

  Pressing my lips together, I will myself not to cry. My tears can fall, and no doubt will, after he’s gone. I don’t want him to think I’m weak, not right now. Elias lowers his head and rests his forehead against my own.

  I feel his breath wash over my face and my eyelids automatically flutter closed. “I will return,” he says, this time his voice is rougher, harsher and I know that his emotions are just as heightened as my own.

  Then his hand shifts between us and he presses his palm against my stomach. “I will return for my bride and my babe,” he breathes.

  “Elias,” I exhale.

  His forehead lifts from mine, his eyes are glittering black as he searches my face, his hand still pressed against my belly. “A vow, My Queen. I will not die in this war. I have too much waiting here for me. You and this unborn child.”

  “I’m not…” I say, but then my eyes widen.

  He smirks, dipping his chin before his lips brush against mine. “I know a woman’s body, the way it is supposed to work. I was waiting for you to realize that you were indeed with child. You were taking too long,” he mutters against my mouth.

  Lifting my arms, I wrap them around his shoulders and push up on the balls of my feet. Slanting my head to the side, I press my lips against his.

  “You have to come back to me now, Elias. There is no choice. I am not staying in this world with no epidurals and hospitals to deliver a baby without you by my side,” I snap.

  He lets out a small chuckle, shifting his hands to my hips and grips me tightly. “I will be there, My
Queen.”

  Elias kisses me, thoroughly, his tongue sweeps through my mouth fucking me right there in the broad daylight. My nipples pebble as I push them against his chest, whimpering with need.

  Slowly, he breaks the kiss, nibbling on my bottom lip before he slowly releases me. I feel the loss of him from my heart outward. He lifts his hand, his index finger extends and touches my temple, then he slides his finger down the side of my face, my jaw, and traces my lips.

  “Stay safe. Do not venture far. Never go anywhere alone. I will return. The prophecy will be fulfilled, whatever it is, Sybilla. I will not die in this battle,” he rasps.

  Slipping my tongue out, I taste the skin of his finger and watch as his eyes glitter even more. Smiling, I nod my head slightly. “Come back to me, My King.”

  Dropping his hand from my face, he gives me a stern nod then turns and walks away. I stay, my feet planted as he mounts Storm. Sitting with his spine straight, his eyes find mine, his reins in hand, he grins.

  He’s the sexiest man I’ve ever seen, sitting astride his horse, covered in medieval chainmail, his hair messy from my hands, his scar along his eye. It’s all too much and I want to beg him to stay, to take me back to bed and to devour me.

  He lifts his chin with a jerk before he and his six men leave us standing, watching, waiting with our hearts cracking as they disappear. Turning to look at my girls, my eye catches Katrina’s profile.

  She has a single tear falling down her cheek. Her gaze is focused on one rider and one rider only. Stepping closer to her, I link my arm with hers.

  “They will be okay,” I whisper.

  “He kissed me last night,” she admits with a wheeze.

  “And?” I chance asking.

  “Just a goodbye kiss, but it felt like a farewell forever kiss. I didn’t care for it,” she murmurs.

  Tugging her a bit closer to my side, I slip my arm from hers and wrap it around her small waist instead.

  “Maybe this will give him some time to think. If he wants you, he will stop at nothing to have you, Katrina. He will move mountains for you.”

  “I’m afraid that even if he wanted me, he would not even try for fear that he could not keep me.”

  “Even that will not stop a man in love.”

  I know that I am right. Elias does not know if he will keep me, if I am going to stay in this world or not. Yet, he wasted no time taking me to bed, marrying me—I place my hand against my belly—and knocking me up. My lips twitch into a small smile. I know that I should be terrified, and I am, but I’m also excited.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  ELIAS

  Camp is set up just across the border into Llyne. My troops arrived yesterday and now I’m here with my closest men. We make our way toward the largest tent, knowing without a doubt that it is mine.

  Rowan, Henry, Lief, Asher, Frederick, and Merek all have smaller tents surrounding mine so that they are close when I am in need of counsel.

  “Merek,” I call out as I dismount from Storm before tossing my reins to a boy who is waiting patiently to assist me.

  Dipping my chin to the squire, I push the tent flaps back and walk into my new home away from home. My lips tip up into a smile as I look around the space.

  I’ve never fought as a king before, I’m used to being a warrior, sleeping on the hard ground, sometimes in the gods forsaken mud wet and cold.

  Mayhap it is good to be king after all.

  “You demanded my attendance,” Merek grunts from behind me.

  Spinning around, I lift my lips to my cousin. “You figure out your dilemma with the young maiden?”

  He shakes his head once. “None to be had, Elias. I said my goodbyes and when we return, I’ll ask that you arrange a marriage for me. It’s time.”

  My entire body stills at his words. Time. Is it time? Arching a brow, my eyes rake over my cousin.

  His eyes are sunken, the skin beneath them bruised purple as though he hasn’t been sleeping. He’s also lost a bit of weight on his large frame, not noticeably so to anyone else, but he has stood by my side since childhood and I know him as well as I know myself.

  “You are in love with her. Just admit it and be done with this,” I offer.

  He shakes his head once. “I will marry the way I have always been meant to. I will marry for a political alliance for the country of Bunafi. I may not be a prince, but I do have a royal title and I will do what I can to serve my country in all ways.”

  “While making yourself miserable?” I ask.

  His lips curl as he lets out a snort. “Misery is the way of royal life, is it not?”

  “I used to think so.”

  “You are lucky to not only be fated, but you’ve also fallen in love with your bride. We know that is not normally the way of things. I hope that I can fall in love with my bride as well.”

  He doesn’t say anything else, instead he turns on his booted heels and marches out of my tent. With a frown, I stare at the flaps that he exited through for a long moment. He may not be part of the prophecy as I am, but I have the power to give my cousin the happiness that he deserves.

  Merek is a true warrior. He has given his life to me, to the crown and to Bunafi. If a warrior does not deserve the bride of his choosing, then who does? I make a decision, one that I will not tell him of. I need to know for certain whether he truly wants the maid or if it is a case of wanting what he cannot have.

  “Your Majesty?” Frederick calls out before he slips inside of the tent.

  “Frederick.”

  He clears his throat. “The scout is back, I thought you may wish to speak to him.”

  “Call in the others and bring the scout in as well.”

  Frederick dips his chin before he turns and goes in search of the other men. We’ve only been here mere minutes and it’s already time to get to work. I don’t mind, the busier I am, the sooner we raid Llyne and take it back, the sooner I can go home to my queen.

  GODIVA

  Sitting straight up, I place my hand over my beating heart. Closing my eyes, I whisper the protection spell that shifts me into a beautiful young maiden. Opening my eyes, I glance around the room, listening for any noise within the castle that is not natural.

  My door opens, my gaze flies to it and I watch as Aleida slips through. Her eyes take me in and she pauses for a moment.

  “So, you sensed it as well, then?” she asks.

  Nodding my head, I agree. “I cannot stop it from unfolding,” I state.

  “It is up to the gods and fate now. We’ve done what we can.”

  “Do you detect evil magic?” I ask.

  She presses her lips together, shifting her gaze to her feet, then brings her eyes back to meet my own. They’re swirling in gold and black. She is searching, sensing and trying to find the answers that we seek.

  Aleida and I have magic that is matched, yet we excel at different aspects of our powers which is why we are better together rather than apart. Aleida’s eyes shift back to their natural color and she shakes her head once, but doesn’t speak right away.

  “There is darkness at work here,” she whispers. “I just do not know how deep it goes, how strong it is, or when it will come to the surface.”

  “You can sense more than I can,” I point out. “I feel as though I am blocked.”

  Aleida shuffles closer to my bed and gingerly sinks down on the edge. “Can you sense the babe?” she asks.

  Pressing my lips together, I shift my eyes to the side, then bring them back to meet hers. “I cannot sense anything, Aleida. A fortnight ago, I felt my powers strong inside of me. Today, I feel naught. Obviously,” I say, waving my hand over my body. “I still hold them inside of me, but I cannot sense them. It is the oddest sensation.”

  “You’re being blocked.” She nods. “But whoever it is, they are not strong enough to block every aspect that you wield.”

  “Do you know any witch with that kind of power?” I ask.

  Aleida’s face pales, even in the moo
nlight’s glow, I see the color clearly drain from her face. “A god,” she whispers.

  “I’ve feared this as well. Not all of the gods surely want to see the prophecy fulfilled. For if it comes to fruition without true love, then chaos will ensue and they will assuredly rise once again.”

  “The Erinyes,” Aleida hisses.

  We stay silent for a moment, waiting to see if the goddesses hear our words. Naught happens, there is no shift with the earth, with this castle, with each other, so hopefully they do not hear us talking of them.

  “We must warn the King,” I announce.

  “On the battlefield? He has much to worry over, Godiva.”

  It is true, King Elias has much on his plate, though the man handles the pressure better than any mortal I have witnessed in my long life.

  It makes me wonder if the prophecy has not made him stronger in both mind and body. Perhaps he was chosen for this at birth, touched by the gods and guided by them for just this purpose, to fight against the evil and to ensure that their prophecy comes to fruition.

  “We must stay alert, sister,” I whisper to my sister witch.

  Aleida nods once, taking my hand in hers. “I feel as though we should go into hiding,” she whispers.

  I hum. “It may not be a bad idea. We are exposed here, vulnerable to the goddesses, if it is indeed them who are meddling.”

  “King Elias will be angry,” she mutters.

  Licking my lips, I stare at my friend, casting a beauty spell upon her. She changes in front of me, her body morphing into that of her former youth and glory.

  “King Elias may be angry, but we will not leave Sybilla unprotected. However, we are too vulnerable here.”

  Aleida nods as she stands to her feet. Without another word, the two of us spirit away into the night. One day, Elias will not be angry. Once he realizes that we would never leave Sybilla in danger, but staying here will do just that, he will surely be grateful for our disappearance—eventually.

 

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