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IT HAD BEEN A GAY FEAST. For that short time, they all forgot about the Fomorians and the impending battle. All that mattered was spending time with each other. They regaled Laerwen with fanciful tales. The Queen of the Fae was quite fun-loving and told how she once turned back the hands of time to save Derron from certain death. Laerwen was mesmerized by the idea that the Fae could alter time.
“How does that work exactly?” she asked.
“Fae magic,” Elyne said with a smile that crinkled her blue eyes. “It’s easy to do in the human realm where time is more linear.”
“I thought time was linear everywhere,” she said.
“It is but isn’t,” Derron said with a grin. “Time in the Otherworld moves at a different pace than that of the human realm. With our magic, we can sift to any place and any time we wish. In this realm or any other.”
“Sift?” Laerwen’s brows drew together in question. “Is that what Cormac does?”
“No,” Elyne said. “But it’s similar. We alter the sands of time to get where and when we want. He merely thinks of a place he wants to go and flashes there. He can only flash within the Otherworld and no other realm.”
Hearing this gave Laerwen an idea. Hope bloomed in her breast. “Why can’t you just alter time to before the attack on the Hin’dar Rhule? Then I can stop the massacre before it happens and save lives.” She could save her parents and Randir. None of them would have to go through this tragedy. It seemed the perfect solution.
“Oh I’m afraid it’s quite forbidden. It’s against the Laws of Fae. I should have never done it in the first place,” Elyne said, glancing at Derron. “But I was a desperate, angry woman.”
“And you paid the price for breaking that law too.” Derron’s hand landed on hers and held it. He brought her fingertips to his lips and kissed them. “Yet I love you for it. For all you did for me.”
They told her how Elyne had gone back in time to save Derron from dying at a jousting tournament—something he used to do before the Otherworld came under attack. Before Maeve relinquished the throne to her daughter.
Laerwen sat back in her chair, trying not to feel deflated. If she had the power to alter time, would she? She thought she might. She was an angry, desperate woman too. She wanted her parents back, by the gods. She wanted the Hin’dar Rhule to be safe once again.
But, alas, none of that was meant to be. And she had to face the true reality of her life.
“How did the Treaty of Separation come to be abolished?” Laerwen asked.
It was known in the Elven realms the Wood Elves and the Fae didn’t get along due the death of the former Fae king. His murder was blamed on the Elves and the then-queen, Maeve, was determined to exact her revenge. That was why the Treaty of Separation had been enacted but later abolished. Laerwen was never quite certain how they came to that point of removing it.
Andahar took a sip of his honeywine. “That is another tale for another day.”
“Aye. A very long tale, indeed,” Derron agreed. “And we’re fatigued.” He pushed back from the table and Elyne followed. She took his hand.
They bid them goodnight. Laerwen watched them leave the table.
“On the morrow, I will assemble the rangers,” Eldrin said.
“Good.” Andahar gave a nod of his head. “I’m glad to hear it.”
Eldrin and Lady Talaiel rose wishing them both good night. That left her alone with Andahar, save for a few servants still wandering around and cleaning up after the feast. She sat across from him, watching him watch her. He raised his goblet and extended it in a high toast.
She raised hers. They clinked together.
“To victory,” he said and drank.
“A little early for that, isn’t it?” she chided.
“I’m optimistic.” He winked.
It sent her heart tumbling to her feet. She downed the rest of her honeywine but found the taste soured in her mouth.
“I should like some ale, I think,” she announced and rose, scanning the room for a pitcher of ale or something a bit stronger.
“How about whiskey?”
Andahar stood and turned away from the table, walking across the dining hall to a high table on the other side. He grabbed two small cups and filled them with a pale amber liquid then walked back to her.
“I’ve never had whiskey.”
“Nor I. Shall we try it together?” He handed her the cup.
She held it between her palms and looked down into the liquid, smelling the sharp tang and smiling. “It smells delicious. And strong. Like I might get drunk on one sip.” She glanced up at him, her brows raised in question. “Or is that what you’re trying to do, your majesty?”
“Get you drunk? Why I never.”
She laughed. Together the two of them downed the drink in the same instance. It burned all the way down to her toes, giving her a lovely warming feeling and making her head thick. As though she’d suddenly grown fur between her earlobes. She laughed again. A hearty laugh that come from the belly up her throat. She held out her cup.
“Another.”
“Are you sure, your majesty?”
She wiggled the cup at him. “Another!”
He went back to the table, grabbed the decanter and returned to fill her cup and his. They clinked cups and then downed the drink together.
“How wonderful this is. I haven’t been this happy in ages.” She giggled.
“Did you know it’s the color of your eyes?” He held up the decanter, the amber liquid winking in the candlelight making it sparkle. “I’ve always thought so.”
“Have you?”
“I have.”
He set aside his cup and advanced around the table, walking in slow, silent steps like a big cat. As though he were on the prowl. Indeed, his mesmerizing green eyes sparked with desire and need. Everything she’d been feeling since the moment she saw him. She turned her back to the table and watched him approach. Her heart beat so hard, she was sure he heard it.
Andahar pried the cup from her fingers and placed it on the table next to her. He pinned her between the table and his wall of muscle. She’d only noticed that for the first time. Gods, he was handsome. With that fall of silvery hair and those pale green eyes. She couldn’t stop from reaching up to brush away the locks from his forehead, letting her fingers glide through the strands and over his scalp.
His eyes fluttered closed as though he had never experienced something so wonderful. He pressed against her, pushing her hips against the table. Laerwen lost her balance and fell back. She only had time to put her hands back to halt her descent but in the next instance, he was on top of her.
She wasn’t opposed to his weight pressing against her. The weight of him against her body made her weak and light-headed. Or mayhap that was merely the whiskey making her feel that way.
“Laerwen.”
“Aye?”
“You are beautiful.”
His gaze searched her face then flickered lower over her upper body. With him on top of her and the way the gown pressed against her bosom, it made all the flesh come together and push upward, heaving out of the edge of the gown. He dragged his finger across her, his pale skin a contrast to that of her bronzed flesh.
“Andahar?”
“Shh. Let me look at you.”
It occurred to her they were in plain view of all the servants. They could be walked in on any moment. But the more he touched her, the more she found she didn’t care. Her head fell back, landing with a quiet thud on the table while his hands roamed over her breasts.
“Touching you is like touching heaven.”
A mewl escaped her as the heat flooded her core. Her legs opened and wrapped around his waist. He settled there and she could feel the hard length of his shaft nestling between her legs. The damn skirt was in the way.
His head dipped to her earlobe and he licked her there. It sent more heat pouring into her.
“I have never wanted anyone as I want you.”
“Nor I.” She surprised herself with the admission.
His mouth, so hot, landed on her neck as he kissed her. He kissed his way to the back of her ear and back down again. He kissed his way across her breasts that she so desperately wanted to be freed yet the damn dress held them right in place. He kissed his way up her chin to—finally—her lips.
And oh, gods, what a kiss that was. His searing mouth did not take his time as he had before. He took what he wanted, his mouth pillaging her. His tongue dueling with hers. She noticed then that he did not taste like wild berries and honeywine. He tasted like whiskey. Strong, sharp, tangy. Much like the taste in the back of her throat. They had shared the drink and now shared the kiss of passion.
Laerwen pulled him to her, all the sharp angles of his body thrusting against her. She was aware of his hips bones and his hard shaft as he rocked his hips against her. And her body responded in like as a moan bubbled up her throat.
Gods, what were they doing? This was insane and she had to stop.
But she couldn’t stop any more than she wanted to stop.
Finally, she broke her mouth away from his demanding one and turned her head. “Andahar.” His name came out a breathy whisper.
But his mouth continued to taste her and kiss her and make her mind frazzled so much so she couldn’t think or form a coherent thought.
“I want you. I want to make love to you here, Laerwen.”
Her heart burst inside her chest, making little starbursts against her closed eyes. Oh, gods, and he would too. Right here on the dining hall table. If she let him.
She gripped him by the shoulders and shoved with all her might, pushing him up and away from her.
“Not here. Not like this.”
Even though her body wept with need and desire and she wanted to say yes. She wanted him to take her here, right now.
Clarity seemed to come into his eyes as he blinked. He pushed off her and stood, smoothing his hands over his tunic and then his hair. As if he had been so swept away, he’d lost control of where and who he was.
“My apologies, your majesty.” He held out a hand and helped her to stand. “I was overcome.”
Then he gave her a quick bow. “I bid thee good night.”
And just like that, the magic was broken and he was gone.
“Well how about that,” she said to no one in particular.
She plopped down on the chair she’d vacated only moments before and poured herself another whiskey. Mayhap the drink would numb her and she wouldn’t feel the flood of disappointment and hurt that pressed against her chest.
He’d left her in the dining hall alone. As though screwing her against the table had been his only option. What about screwing her in his bed, by the gods? What about that? Wasn’t she good enough for that?
She slammed the empty cup on the table, the sound resonating throughout the room. But there was no one to hear. And no one to care. After some time of sitting alone, she peeled herself from the chair and headed to bed.
But as she walked toward her chamber, she became enraged he had the nerve to leave her like that. She was not going to allow him to do that because it was clear he wanted her and she wanted him. And hadn’t they wasted enough time already?
When she reached her chamber, she quickly changed into one of her more revealing outfits. Not one of the gowns of this realm, but a low cut blouse with short sleeves, the voluminous skirt and a sari she had commissioned from the royal dressmaker. The color was a deep garnet trimmed with silver thread. As she threw the sari over her shoulder, she reached for her veil and carefully concealed her hair.
Now let him resist her if he could.
* * *
WHAT WAS HE THINKING? Had he lost his ever-loving mind? How could he have allowed the drink to cloud his judgment so? Laerwen deserved better than that. She deserved to be taken to his bed. Not taken against the table.
He slammed the door to his chamber and leaned against it, wiping the sweat of embarrassment off his brow. He had at least saved face that time.
By the time he’d reached his royal chamber, he had lost his nerve and the drink had fizzled from his veins. It was just as well. He vowed never to touch the stuff again.
As he pulled off his tunic, preparing for bed, there was a sharp knock on his door. He paused and stared at the door with wide eyes. Who could that be at this hour? Surely not the princess—or queen rather. As he hesitated, there was another knock on his door. This one more persistent and louder. He dropped his tunic to the floor and pulled open the door.
And halted, his heart in his throat.
Laerwen stood in the doorway. His body reacted at the sight of her dressed in that fiery red sari, her head covered with the veil. He could only see her face and her hands and nothing more. The opaque material covered her from head to toe. His senses went reeling.
Gods, he wanted her. He wanted to run his hands over all that soft skin. He wanted to kiss every inch of her, explore her, memorize her, know her. She was exquisite and perfect and he wanted her.
He had never wanted another woman like her. Not in his entire life. And the last thing he had thought of was marriage now, even as he sat the throne. Something about her made him want marriage and children and an eternal life. With her.
“I hope I’m not disturbing you.” Her voice was soft and melodious, hardening his shaft. Her gaze slipped over his naked torso and desire clouded her eyes. “We have unfinished business.”
“We do not,” he said, matter-of-factly. “If this is about the dining hall—”
“You know it is.”
She shoved her way inside and kicked the door closed with her heel. The bang reverberated around the walls. He flinched, hoping she hadn’t awakened anyone in the palace. He backed up as she advanced on him, the intent clearly written on her face. She’d come here with seduction on her mind. And he’d be a damn fool to reject her now. When she so clearly wanted him.
His shafted had hardened to a painful length. But, alas, he couldn’t allow it to happen. He would never take advantage of her.
“You’re still overcome with the whiskey,” he said. “I cannot allow you to do this.”
“I assure you, your majesty, I am quite lucid. Do you think I would have come here dressed like this if I wasn’t? I knew what I was doing the moment I slipped into these clothes. Just as I know what I’m doing here. Now. With you. Alone.”
Oh, gods. She was killing him.
She stepped toward him again, gently tugging the veil from around her neck. It fell open, revealing her low-cut tightly fitting blouse that stopped just below her breasts and was low cut enough to show off ample cleavage. He tried hard not to look at her but he failed. He had to look. He had to see all that brown sugar skin, her breasts pushed together and up, showing the perfect roundness of them. Not to mention her flat abdomen and all those womanly curves his fingers itched to touch. He wondered if her skin was as soft as it looked. The jeweled waistband of her pants hugged her hips low, revealing her bellybutton and giving him a hint at what was below.
Exquisite perfection.
“I wish to thank you for all that you have done for me and my people. Your assistance and that of the Skye Elves and the Fae have been...humbling.”
“There is no need to thank me, Laerwen. I did it because I wanted to help you. They did it because it’s the right thing to do.”
“Aye, I know. But none of it would be possible without your help and I know that. As do my people. I am eternally grateful.”
“Laerwen—”
She’d reached him and placed two fingers over his lips. As their gazes locked, she pulled away the remaining veil, letting it flutter to the floor in a whisper. Her dark hair fell about her face in soft waves. His fingers itched to touch her. To run his fingers through all those silken strands.
“I wish to give myself to you.” Her words came out in a breathy whisper as her hands landed on his bare chest. “And not for any reason other than I have allowed myself to fall in love with you, Andahar. I want you.”
He was stunned to silence as he looked at her. His hands moved up her arms and he cupped her face. Gods, did he hear her right? She loved him? She wanted him?
When did she change her mind? She had been so hell-bent on marrying one of her kind, she had rejected him time and time again. She had never allowed him to get any closer. And after Randir died, she had become somewhat of a recluse.
“I realize what you must think,” she continued, as though hearing his inner thoughts. “That it seems strange I should change my mind, but in all honesty, I have wanted you from day I came to the Woodlands.”
“It is the same for me. I’ve always wanted you, Laerwen.” His thumb brushed across her cheek.
“I admit Randir’s death was difficult for me. You were right. I did blame myself. I know now it wasn’t my fault and I’ve tried not to harbor any guilt over it.” She paused and tugged her lower lip.
“But you do.”
She nodded.
“You are allowed to grieve for all that you’ve lost, Laerwen.”
“I know. But I wanted to be strong.”
“You are strong. The strongest woman I have ever known.” He kissed her forehead. “I want you to be sure, though.”
“I am sure.”
It was clear to him now that she’d planned the entire thing. It only made his shaft harder. It only made him want her more.
“What changed your mind?” he asked.
“Lady Talaiel and I had a conversation.”
“Ah, she can be quite persuasive when she wants to be.” He smiled, grateful for his brother’s wife.
“If we survive this—”
“When,” he corrected. “When we survive this. Because we will. We are not going to allow the Fomorians to beat us.”
She smiled and fluttered her lashes. Gods, he loved that about her. Did she know what she was doing to him? “When we survive this, I hope you are still willing to help rebuild the Hin’dar Rhule.”
He considered this for a moment as he looked at her, his hands still on her face. She was lovely. Quite possibly the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Help her rebuild the Hin’dar Rhule? Nay. He would do more than that.
“I will. I intend to be by your side. As your husband, if you’ll have me.”
Her cheeks flooded with color as she looked down, away from him. He could see her chest rising and falling in quick breaths and it did nothing but wonderful things to her breasts.
“I love you, Laerwen. I think I always have since that first moment I saw you.”
“Andahar...” She placed her cool hands on his chest, right over the wild beating of his heart. She glanced up, those whiskey-colored eyes meeting his and her mouth curving into a smile. “Do you? Love me?”
“Not a moment goes by that you are not in my thoughts. I would give my life to save yours. I would do anything to see you smile. To make you happy. So, aye, I love you. More than I could ever tell you.”
She lowered her eyes but he could see the flush creeping into her cheeks, turning her skin a beautiful shade of pink. How could she have taken his heart so completely so quickly? He didn’t know the answer to that. He didn’t care. All he cared about was that she loved him back and that she would become his wife.
“I’ll marry you.” Slowly her eyes lifted to his. “I’ll marry you now or after the battle. I’ll marry you whenever you want. I just want to marry you. Belong to you. Be with you. I love you as you love me.”
His heart turned over and dropped to his boots. He had not intended to profess his love for her nor ask for her hand in marriage. But he had been overcome with emotion and could no longer stand the thought of her not being in his life. He could not let her go back to the Hin’dar Rhule alone.
He kissed her then, their lips meeting softly at first and then as the kiss intensified, their passion increased. She’d agreed to be his wife. He had never had more joy than he did right then.
He led her to his bed. She remained silent as she helped him undress her. Removing each piece one at a time. Sliding the tunic from her upper body to reveal her perfect breasts, the raspberry-colored nipples peaked and ready for his mouth to taste.
Andahar took a moment to run the pads of his thumbs over her hard peaks. Her eyes fluttered closed again as she tilted her head back, as though it was the most erotic thing that had ever happened to her. But he was far from finished with her. He dipped his head, flicked his tongue over one. A breath of delight shuddered out of her.
Her hands threaded through the locks of his hair, her nails scraping over his scalp, making it tingle. It delighted him. It excited him. When he sucked her nipple between his teeth and gently nipped, she sucked in a sharp breath. He did the same with her other breast and her fingers tightened on his hair.
Laerwen stepped out of his arms and away from him. He watched as she shimmied out of the skirt, letting the material land at her feet in a shimmering pool of fiery color. Beneath the skirt, she wore nothing and stood delightfully naked before him.
Her skin looked soft and supple. Her waist curved inward, giving her the perfect hour-glass figure. The V at the apex of her rounded thighs was completely devoid of the thatch of curls he expected. She was bare and blissfully beautiful. She had long legs he couldn’t wait to have wrapped around his waist while he slid inside her. She flicked the length of her hair over her shoulder and gave him a delicious smile.
“You approve, my king?”
Oh, aye, both his brain and his shaft approved.
“Now your turn,” she urged. “I wish to see you.”
Gods, he loved how brazen and demanding she was. He loved how she ordered him to remove his clothes, to bare himself to her. Wasting no time, he toed off his boots and stripped out of his breeches, shoving them down to his ankles and kicking them out of the way. His manhood stood at reckless attention, pointing right at her.
But she didn’t look there. She kept her gaze trained on him as she approached him, stepping over the discarded clothing. The fire of desire flickered in her eyes, or mayhap that was the braziers blazing brightly in his chamber. He didn’t know. He didn’t care.
Laerwen’s hand landed on his chest, her fingers trailing over the muscle and the sprinkling of hair as she circled behind him. She stepped away from him and then he heard her breath exhale as half the chamber was plunged into darkness. Only a few candles remained, the glow flickering across the coverlet of the bed.
Her body pressed against his back, her breasts crushing into him. His eyes fluttered closed as her hands slipped around from behind him. She flattened one hand in the curve of his chest. Her other hand wrapped around his hardened length, her long slender fingers closing over his shaft in a gentle grip.
“I wish to feel you.” She must have stood on tiptoe as she whispered it, for her breath tickled his ear.
Her thumb roved over his dampened tip, heightening his arousal more than he could comprehend. His head could very well explode before he could bury himself deep inside her.
“Laerwen—”
“Let me touch you.”
Her hand pumped back and forth several times before moving lower and cupping his sac. His eyes closed and he bit his lip, using all his strength to remain standing and perfectly still while she worked her seductive magic. She petted him in a way he never thought would arouse him. When her hand closed over his shaft again, she pumped several more times.
“You torture me, your majesty,” he said.
“My torture is not yet finished.” She released him and moved to stand in front of him. He could see the mischief in her eyes. “There is more in store for you.”
She said it as she dropped to her knees and before he could protest, she took his long length between her lips and sucked him to the back of her throat. The groan of pleasure ripped from his lungs as his head fell back on his shoulders. It was a most unexpected pleasure as she licked him.
Andahar let his fingers tangle in the length of her hair, threading his way through the soft locks as she continued her oral onslaught. He watched her beautiful mouth do sinful things to him. Things he had only imagined a woman could and would do. When she stopped, she looked up at him with desire flooding her eyes. He gripped her hair close to her scalp and gave a little tug, pulling her up to her full height.
“Did you like it?” Her eyes glinted with lust. The peaks of her perfectly dusty pink nipples brushed against his naked chest.
Like it? He had never experienced anything so divine. “Where did you learn something like that?”
“It is known by our people.” She gave him a slow seductive smile.
He dropped one hand from the tangles of her hair and slid his fingers between her bare female lips, sliding into the damp heat. Her eyes closed, her head tilted to one side as he stroked her.
“You are a most beautiful woman.”
She only hummed her response as she stepped her feet apart to allow him more access. He had never felt anything quite as divine as her. He’d had women before—certainly—but none like her. He had never experienced a woman who was devoid of the curls hiding her sex.
His fingers moved out of her and over her lips, touching her, outlining her, feeling every luscious curve from the top of her thighs and back again. He licked his lips. He had to taste her.
“Move to the bed.”
Her eyes popped open, the lashes fluttering with the pulse racing in her throat. His voice was huskier than he intended. But she complied. Taking one slow step after another backward to the bed. When her knees hit the edge of the feather mattress, she sank to her bottom.
“Command me, your majesty. Tell me what you wish of me.”
“Lean back. Open your legs to me.”
When she did as he asked, his heart thunked a rapid beat. He had never seen a more beautiful woman lain out before him. He moved to the bed, sank to his knees and parted her nether lips with a gentle touch. When his tongue slid between the folds, she gasped. She lifted her legs, letting them rest on his shoulders. Her back arched as she opened more for him. Giving him more of her to taste, to tease, to pleasure.
As Andahar licked her, tasting her sweetness, he slid a finger inside the warm core. It did nothing but excite him more than he already was. She mewled her encouragement and her hips rocked against him. She didn’t seem like a dewy-eyed virgin. No, she seemed like an experienced lover who knew exactly what she wanted and how she wanted it.
It was exhilarating.
She cried out his name as her body moved against his, the core of her so hot and damp, he lapped it up.
When he stood, he looked down at her naked body. Her eyes were closed. She gripped two fistfuls of the coverlet, her hair splayed out around her head and her breasts peaked to hard little nubs. Her sex still glistened—with both his onslaught and her arousal. She inhaled and exhaled with deep breaths.
“Look at me,” he said, his voice still gravelly.
Laerwen fluttered her eyes open to meet his gaze. And he could see there the love, the yearning, and the want staring back at him. And then her gaze traveled down to his hard shaft standing at attention.
“Take me, Andahar.”
He could no longer resist her. She slid backward to give him room when he climbed onto the bed between her legs. She opened to him as he slid home, pushing inside her as she emitted a little gasp of pleasure. Their bodies collided, thrusting against each other, the friction heating them.
She was perfect.
She was divine.
She was heaven.
She was his everything at that moment. He slid his arms around her, pulled her to him as he thrust in and out of her. One arm wrapped around his waist while her free hand tangled in the locks of his hair. Their mouths met in a fiery kiss, as though they both could not get enough. As though they could not taste enough.
When he came inside her a moment later, she shuddered with him. Their tongues never stopped dueling even as their bodies slowly descended from the height of arousal. He could still taste her sex on his lips and he wondered if she, too, could taste it.
He finally broke from her, lifted up to look down at her. He brushed hair from her face as she smiled that slow seductive smile.
“I love you, Laerwen.”
She kissed his chin. “I love you back.”
It was the best four words he’d ever heard her speak.