
Fiery Fate
Jaci Burton
To my friend, Mel, aka Melani Blazer. Thank you for helping me add beautiful color to Roarke and Solara's story. Your friendship means the world to me, and I can't thank you enough for taking the time to read my stories. I wish you much success and happiness in your writing career.
To Patti and Missy. Thank you for all you do to help me. Truly, I'd be lost without you.
To my editor, Briana St. James. Yes, you can have all my "R" heroes (grin). And thank you for loving my 'men' as much as I do.
To my wonderful Paradise group -- thank you for giving me a refuge and a place to laugh. Thank you for your friendship and warm acceptance of me.
And, as always, to Charlie. When you walk into a room, I feel the magic of your love. Truly, we were fated. My soul is forever yours. I love you.
Solara, faerie princess of D'Naath, shifted her position on the stairs and peered through the slats, figuring her vantage point would leave her unnoticed by the two men. Or at least the one man she didn't want to notice her. She watched intently as Roarke, captain of the elvin guard, did sword battle with one of his soldiers.
Training, they called it. To her it looked like a fight to the death, both elvin warriors straining with the efforts of their exercise.
Moisture beaded on Roarke's brow as he lifted the heavy broadsword and struck a downward blow on his opponent. The clang of metal against metal rang out in the empty courtyard and echoed in the surrounding trees.
Roarke's well-muscled back strained and flexed, yet he wielded the sword as if it were no heavier than a dinner knife. But she knew it weighed half as much as herself. His powerful muscles gleamed with sweat in the already heated morning sun.
What compelled her to venture forth at daybreak? Was she purposely seeking him out? It did her no good to mull over that which was not meant to be. Soon she'd be leaving for Greenbriar, the land of the southern king, Braedon.
Her betrothed.
'Twas her fate to marry Braedon in less than a month. A man she'd never seen, a man known as cold and emotionless, the complete opposite in nature of his warm, sun-filled lands.
The complete opposite of her.
They had arrived only yesterday. Determined to spend some time with her sister, Noele, Solara had brought along her three younger sisters, Trista, Elisa and Mina. After all, this could be the last time they were all together, since Solara would be ensconced in the southern king's lands before long.
She was here to see Noele and Garick.
Not Roarke.
She hadn't seen Roarke until this morning. As yet, they hadn't spoken. She wanted these few moments to watch him. To gauge her own reactions to seeing him again. Would her feelings for him be as strong as they were when they'd first met? Had that been nothing more than a chemical reaction, or was there something more?
Now, looking at him again, she knew whatever reaction she'd felt when she'd met him the first time had not dwindled in the least. Her heart still fluttered against her breast. Her blood still pounded through her veins, her breathing labored.
All from merely looking at Roarke.
Oh, why did she have to meet Roarke all those months ago? Why had she made a connection with him that fired her blood and refused to leave her be? It had been six long months since Noele's wedding. Six months since she'd first laid eyes on Roarke. Surely enough time had passed that she would be over any feelings she'd had for him.
And yet from that first moment, that first time he had touched her in the official elvin greeting, she had known they shared a destiny. A destiny which could never be.
She'd tried to dismiss it as some kind of physical reaction to an attractive male. Not that Roarke was the first good-looking male to cross her path, but she'd certainly reacted to him as if he had been.
They'd been separated since she and her sisters had returned to D'Naath. Now, returning to Winterland, she realized nothing had changed. One glimpse of him and the same wild reactions occurred within her.
Solara sighed and once again fixed her gaze on Roarke's naked back, imagining how his muscles would ripple under her touch, how he would bring her body to life with his strong, powerful hands. The same visions that had haunted every sleepless night since the last time she had seen him. No matter how she tried to fight the demon desire that lived inside her, one look at him and she was reminded of everything she had tried to forget.
How was she to marry one man when she clearly felt something for another?
But she had not come to Winterland to moon over a man she desired and could not have. She was here to visit her sister, Noele, before she made the long journey to Greenbriar.
She pondered the combatants, with every passing second more and more convinced that she would be unable to go through with a marriage to a man she did not love.
Noele had been lucky. She had been destined as Garick of Winterland's bride, and their match had ended up one of love. The passion between her sister and Garick was palpable to anyone who stood near them.
'Twas what she wished for herself. If that was selfish, so be it. Her heart ached for another. She could never be the bride of a man as cold and unfeeling as Braedon of Greenbriar was said to be.
Picking at a speck on her blue shift, she concentrated on her hands, willing the melancholy that had settled over her to vanish like a butterfly on a gusty wind. Yet it had remained for days now and she could not force it away.
Her fate was sealed, her destiny not of her own choosing. What could she do but see it through?
No. There had to be another way. She could not do this!
"What ails the beautiful faerie today?"
Glancing up, she squinted in the blinding sunlight. It did not matter that her sight was restricted. Roarke's voice entered her very soul.
"Nothing ails me." How had he snuck up on her when she'd only averted her eyes for the briefest of moments? Had she known the men had ended their skirmish, she would have disappeared before Roarke had the chance to look up at the stairs and see her sitting there.
Now that he stood so close, her body reacted by flaming to life. 'Twas like an illness making her feverish. He kneeled on the stairs, blocking the light from her eyes with his body. His skin was bathed in a fine sheen of sweat and she balled her fingers into fists to keep from swiping her hand over the corded muscles of his shoulders and down his bare chest.
Truly, he took her breath away. Hair as dark as the bark of the trees in D'Naath hung long to his shoulders. A short, clipped beard and moustache graced his angular jaw. Would that beard tickle her lips and her cheeks when he rubbed against her? And what of his mouth? Could he perform magic on her body with that mouth?
How would his beard and lips feel lower on her body, rubbing against her swollen sex?
"Is there something wrong, Solara?"
She shook her head, forcing her thoughts away from pondering his full lips. "No. I was just catching the morning sun and breathing in the beautiful air of summer."
"You appear unhappy." He reached out and traced her forehead.
Shock registered deep within her at the power of his touch. Her sex moistened and began to thrum with a now familiar ache, and her nipples thrust hard and needy against her thin shift. She backed away from his hand, unable to bear the sweet torment.
"What is wrong, sweet Solara?"
Oh please go away. I cannot bear the pain of your touch, the fiery promise in your deep voice. She shut her eyes and willed him to disappear. When she opened them, she found his dark eyes studying her, a frown on his deeply handsome face. "There is nothing wrong. I must go find Noele now."
But when she stood and turned to leave, he reached out and laced his fingers around her arm.
"Don't go."
"I have to. I cannot stay here."
"What if I ask you to stay?"
His voice held a teasing edge, and yet the undertone carried a serious question. Were they still talking of her leaving to see Noele? Or had their conversation shifted to something deeper, more permanent?
Something she'd thought constantly of, but refused to lend voice to.
"You know I cannot. I am destined elsewhere."
He dropped his hand. "Aye, I know. It's foolish."
"Aye, it is."
She should walk away. Or he should. Neither of them had the right to be alone together. Solara knew that, and she was certain Roarke did, too. But he didn't leave. And she found her feet to be immobile.
But standing here next to him, inhaling his musky scent, forcing her hands to remain at her sides so she didn't reach out and touch him---'twas all too much to bear.
"I should go."
He still watched her, tilted his head to the side. "Aye. You should."
"There is no reason for me to stay."
"No, there is not." He reached for a scarlet curl, threading it through his fingers. "And yet you remain."
"You could leave," she offered, wondering why he expected her to be the one to walk away.
"I could. But for some strange reason I don't wish to."
She closed her eyes for a brief second. His words should mean nothing. He played a game with her, and nothing more. But when she opened them again, she realized he was as torn as she was, and unable to take a step either forward or backward.
"This is wrong, Roarke. We should not even be talking."
He released the curl he'd been holding and moved his hand over her bare shoulder, letting it rest there. She fought her body's reaction to his touch, to no avail. She was on fire.
"I think there is much unsettled between us," he whispered. "I would speak with you alone this eve, if you can manage."
Her breath caught and held as his eyes flamed, mirroring the desire she found so often in her own reflection. So, he had felt it too. That all-consuming passion for someone who was nearly a stranger. Knowing he had feelings for her only made their situation worse. And yet she was too curious to resist that which she knew she should.
"When? Where?"
"After all have retired. Meet me in the rear gardens at the end of the courtyard."
Against her better judgment, she nodded. With a seemingly reluctant slide of his fingers, he let go and turned away, moving down the stairs to greet the other guards who had entered the courtyard for morning training.
Garick entered the courtyard too, his booming voice resounding in the bailey, Solara sighed and walked away, climbing the wide steps toward the hall. She pushed open the heavy door, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room. Voices emanated from the corner of the hall, and she followed the sound. Noele should be somewhere about, likely in the kitchens.
She found Noele fluttering around the tables in the great hall, making sure that all the settings were in place before the men came in to break fast. She smiled when she saw Solara, and motioned her over.
"Did you sleep well?"
Solara lied. "Aye. Just fine. And you?"
A half smile lit up Noele's pale face, her silver sparkles shimmering in the rays of light streaming through the windows. "I did not sleep much at all."
Warmth spread within Solara, and she knew what she saw on Noele's face was the deep love she felt for her husband. Oh, why couldn't she have found a mate that matched her in heart and soul? She laid her fingers over Noele's arm. "I am very happy that you have found your love mate."
"As am I. Now let us hope the next of us to marry will do the same."
Noele meant her, of course. Not wanting to burden her sister with her foolish thoughts, she attempted a smile. "Let us hope."
Setting a goblet aside, Noele reached for Solara's hand, a questioning look in her clear blue eyes. "It was not too long ago that you asked me this question. Do you fear the coming joining?"
Solara well remembered asking Noele of her fears. Noele had been honest with her sister. Could Solara do the same?
"In many ways, I do. I have heard terrible things about this Braedon of Greenbriar."
Lips so like her own curved in a gentle smile. "Do not believe everything you hear, my sister. Stories like that are typically lore and have no basis in fact."
Then again, they could very well be true. But what she did not reveal to Noele was that it wouldn't matter if Braedon was the kindest man in all the kingdoms. She could never be happy marrying one while loving another.
Forcing that unpleasant thought aside, she worked with Noele, helping her serve the plentiful food and drink. The warriors kept close to the castle these days because of all the wizard attacks in the past. With so many of them present, the multiple tables took extra hands to serve them. Solara gladly assisted, thankful for something to do to keep her mind busy.
"When I first came here, they would not let me help," Noele mused with a chuckle. "It was only after I insisted repeatedly that Garick allowed me to do more than sit upon the throne and look like a simpering idiot."
"Faerie must stay busy or die of boredom."
"Aye. Which is what I had to convince Garick of. And then Isolde, and finally the servants. They were shocked I would wish to perform labors around the castle, but truly I gain pleasure from doing so." She swept her arm in a wide arc across the room. "This is my husband's home. It is my duty to see it is well-cared for."
Solara couldn't imagine having nothing to do to while away the days. The faerie people of D'Naath were known for frivolity, yes, but also worked hard to make sure that food was set upon the table and all their people were wellfed, clothed and looked after. To sit and watch others toil was not in their nature.
As soon as they had finished setting the meals upon the table, the clatter of boots striking the floor signaled the approach of the guards. Solara took her place at Noele's side. Trista, Elisa and Mina entered the room and took their places at the table next to Solara.
Solara was glad she had brought her sisters along. After all, it had been a half-year since they had last visited Noele. In that time, Solara had grown to rely upon Trista as her confidant and friend. Trista was the only one of her sisters who knew of her current turmoil, and was bound and determined to come up with a solution to Solara's "problem", as she called it. Trista patted Solara's hand, offering an encouraging smile.
Garick walked in, Roarke following. She watched Roarke's every movement, her breath catching and releasing on a sigh, as it did every time she gazed upon him. His powerful physique showed well in tight breeches and a dark shirt. The laces were half undone, revealing the fine chest that she'd glimpsed earlier this morning. She licked her lips and received a nudge in the ribs from Trista.
"What?"
"You are staring," Trista whispered, then winked. Her golden eyes sparkled with mischief. Solara cast her sister a glaring look, hoping she wasn't planning anything foolish.
"I am not. And say nothing. This is not the time for your schemes."
Trista let out a hmph and turned to Elisa and Mina. The twins broke out in laughter.
Roarke turned at the sound of her sisters' giggles, and his gaze met hers. She wanted to look away, but she couldn't. He mesmerized her with his darkly golden eyes, communicating without words as something elemental passed between them. She closed her eyes and felt him enter her being, his thoughts surrounding hers. She fought hard to keep his probing magic at bay, not wanting him to know what was in her heart.
Heat settled between her legs and she clamped her thighs together to ward off the sensations of long, masculine fingers brushing against her sex. She shuddered, lost in images of Roarke's hands on her, his fingers parting the curls of her mound and petting her damp pussy. She let out a low whimper.
"Is there something wrong, Solara?"
Her eyes flew open at Noele's question. Her gaze flitted to Roarke, who smiled knowingly.
Damn him for invading her with such sensations.
"Nothing is wrong. I am enjoying the meal."
"You have not eaten a bite of it." Noele reached up and touched Solara's forehead. "Your skin is heated and flushed. I believe you have a fever."
Roarke snorted and took a long swallow of his drink. Solara wanted to fly away and hide in her room. "I am fine, really. Do not be concerned for me."
Fever, indeed. Foolish fever for a man who teased her in front of the entire castle population. She hurriedly finished her meal, then made herself as scarce as possible for the rest of the day, intending to stay far away from Roarke.
By nightfall, she'd grown weary of pacing her bedchambers. She'd bathed, dressed, undressed, then redressed again, deciding not to meet Roarke this evening as she had previously agreed.
What good would it do to see him? What would she say to him? That her heart, her very soul, burned for him, but she could not have him?
Ridiculous waste of time. They had nothing to say to each other. She did not even know how he felt about her. Aye, 'twas obvious they shared a connection of sorts. But that meant nothing.
Still, as the time grew near she could not stay away. She dressed to please him, brushing her hair until the red locks curled and shimmered over her bare shoulders and down her back, spreading over her wings like a cloak. A pale yellow shift that glistened in the light hugged her body's curves and made her red wings appear like a fiery sunset. She'd scrubbed her skin until the scarlet sparkles glimmered in the full moon's light.
Solara entered the courtyard, searching for anyone who might be about. It was late, and most of the castle inhabitants were long ago abed. By the time she reached the gardens near the end of the courtyard, she felt silly.
Roarke had probably been teasing her about meeting. She would come out here only to find herself alone and embarrassed at her girlish stupidity.
Nevertheless, she was here so she might as well see if he would even appear. She spread her wings and fluttered above the tall hedges. The moon cast a silver glow over the greenery, lighting the path like a map. 'Twas easy to wind her way through the maze of bushes toward the cliffs. Not too far down the path she spotted a bench and stopped there, in awe of the view of the ocean. She inhaled deeply and marveled at the quiet calm of late night. The only sounds were the breakers crashing against the massive sea wall protecting Winterland.
Which was why she screamed when warm hands grabbed her from behind. Whirling around, she saw Roarke lift a finger to his lips.
"Let us not wake the entire castle with your screaming."
'Twas hardly her fault since he surprised her. "I did not hear you."
He winked and grinned. "I know. I wouldn't be much of a warrior if I crashed through the hedges like a charging bear, now would I?"
The thought of him thrashing through the brambles like a lumbering animal made her giggle.
"Ah, now that is what I wanted to see." He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand.
Her heart fluttered as rapidly as her beating wings. "What is that?"
"My faerie's smile. You have gone much too long without one."
His faerie. The words should mean nothing, and yet were what she had dreamed of for a very long time. But dreams and reality were neither close nor attainable.
Nearly invisible in the darkness wearing his black breeches and tunic, she nevertheless could easily make out every curve and angle of Roarke's body. His nearness unnerved her, sparked desires she should not be having for a man who was not her betrothed. Yet she knew no way to stop her feelings other than to stay away from him.
Something she had failed miserably at doing.
"Why did you ask me here, Roarke?"
He reached for a scarlet curl that lay just over her breast. Her nipple rose to greet the brush of his hand. She gasped at the tightening pleasure spiraling through her.
"I don't know what I want. I just know that I wanted to see you. Alone."
"Being alone is not such a good idea."
"Yet you came when I asked you."
"Aye." That she did, but she shouldn't have. Not when she belonged to another. Yet he pulled her like an invisible force that she could not deny.
"What do you want, Solara?"
She turned away from him and fluttered to the edge of the cliff, trying to immerse herself in the sounds of the ocean instead of answering Roarke's question. "It does not matter what I want."
"To me it does."
Heat emanated from his body as he stepped behind her. She steeled herself from turning around and leaping into his arms. "This was a mistake. I should go back to my room."
But when his hands caressed her bare shoulders, his breath ruffling the hair on top of her head, she couldn't move. Memorizing his touch, his scent, she vowed that despite her fate, she'd never forget the way her body came alive when his hands touched her. The dark promise in his eyes, the way he smiled, would always be a part of her mind.
"Look at me, Solara."
She dare not. Admittedly weak where he was concerned, one glance and she'd be lost. Too much was at stake to take that step. She held firm to her resolve, refusing to waver.
Her mouth fell open in a gasp as he whirled her around, pulling her tight against him. She wriggled away, afraid of him. No, that was not true. Fear was her own making, fear of her own reactions to him. "Let me go, Roarke."
Concern etched his face in a frown and he loosened his hold on her. "Am I hurting you?"
He'd taken tender care with her wings, sliding his hands below them to pull her close. His fingers burned through her shift and set fire to her skin. "No."
"Then tell me why my touch revolts you?"
She paused, stricken that he would think such a thing. "Oh, no. Your touch does not revolt me at all."
"Then what is the problem? Why do you seem as if you want to be close, but when I touch you, you pull away?"
The words hovered on her lips, but she feared lending them voice. Telling him how she felt put her feelings in the open. She dared not. "Because you shouldn't touch me."
He looked away. "You are right, of course. You belong to another, and I have no right."
But when he stepped away, doing exactly as she asked, her soul cried out for him. A chill crossed her body at the loss of his warmth. She wanted to ask him to come back. She wanted to tell him that it didn't matter that she belonged to another man.
But it did matter. To both of them.
"Why don't I feel guilty when I look at you and think things I shouldn't?" he asked, his voice so faint 'twas almost as if he asked the question of himself.
Solara flew over to where he stood and laid her hand on his shoulder. "Because we want something we can't have."
When he turned to face her, she knew his pain mirrored her own. "I know. The problem is, I want to touch you, Solara. It's almost a burning need that I cannot resist."
She wanted that more than her next breath. Yet a part of her still held on to her duty, more for his sake than her own. "You can't."
"Why?"
"Because your touch awakens something in me." As soon as the words left her lips, she knew she had made a mistake. Now he knew exactly how she felt. Already weak where he was concerned, she wasn't certain she'd be able to tell him no again.
Moon glow shone on his face, lighting up his features. His eyes held a melting warmth, their color toasty brown with flecks of dark gold, like sunshine peeking through a thick canopy of trees.
He bent his head and brushed his lips against hers.
Her internal battle was lost. She gave herself up to the magic of Roarke's mouth.
Roarke should have never touched Solara. Never pressed his lips to hers.
What was he thinking?
He wasn't. Not with his head anyway. His cock propelled him to make stupid choices. This woman in his arms was betrothed to another. His honor forbade him to touch her.
But touch her he did. Her lips tasted as sweet as fresh dolaberries, her tongue tantalizing as it brushed up against his. When she whimpered into his mouth, he knew he was lost.
Damn her fate, and his. He was no king, could not claim a faerie princess as his bride. He was nothing more than an elvin warrior, a commoner among the royal elves and faeries.
What he did now tarnished his honor and that of his king, his friend, a man who was as close to a brother as he would ever have. They shared a telepathic link forged since childhood, their lives bound together forever.
And yet he could not stop. Solara gave with all her being, moving closer to him. She retracted her wings so he could fit his arms fully around her, her acquiescing movements an invitation he could not resist.
His faerie craved their joining as much as he did. Aye, it was wrong, but let him be damned for eternity, for he'd not let her out of his arms.
With a burgeoning ache, his cock hardened. He pulled Solara toward that sweet pain and rocked against her. A moan escaped her lips and he drank in her desire, sipping at the delectable nectar of her mouth.
Passion overcame common sense and he lifted her into his arms. Finding a secluded spot within the hedges, he laid her down on the soft mound of grass and marveled at the moon's glow shining over her. Her skin twinkled in the night like red stars. Kneeling down beside her, he tentatively brushed his fingers over her shoulder, then down her arm, eliciting small shudders of delight.
Her nipples hardened to tight peaks against her transparent shift. Unable to resist, he swept the gown over her shoulders, baring her breasts. He sucked in a breath at the perfect beauty of the small globes. Anxious to taste her, he bent down and fit his mouth over one hard nub. She gasped and threaded her hands in his hair, whispering his name.
Her pheromones invaded his senses. The sweet smell of flowers in the summertime wafted over him, covering him with the desire to lick her skin and discover if her taste was as arousing as her scent. The urge to tear her shift away and bury himself deep within her was nearly overpowering. He fought the desire, knowing it would be a dangerous road from which neither of them could return.
Already he had breached that which he should not. But he was a man possessed, unable to halt his actions.
And, stars, she did not wish it either. Her body writhed against the soft earth and she held out her arms to him, beckoning him to take her. A small part of him knew this was wrong, knew they should stop before they went too far.
"Solara, we should not---"
"Roarke, please," she begged. With an urgency he clearly understood, she grasped his shoulder and pulled him down against her. Eagerly, she reached for his shaft and palmed it over his breeches.
He sucked in a tight breath, panting like an animal. Heated to near boiling, he was delirious with the fever she gave him.
She would never be his, he would never take her virginity, but by all that was magic he would have a small part of her tonight.
With a low growl he covered her body with his hands, clearing his mind of guilt and hesitancy. For many long months, since they had first met, he had wanted her, dreamed of her, desired her.
The long separation had done nothing to quell his need for her. Every night he lay unable to sleep, feeling a connection to the scarlet faerie who resided so far away in D'Naath. Many times he had wondered if she felt the same way, if she burned for him despite being apart.
Her response now told him that she had.
Like a blind man relying on touch, he memorized her skin. The hollow in her throat, the way her neck arched as she swallowed, the way her breasts rose and pressed against his hands. The small buds nestled perfectly in his palms, her nipples teasing him with their tightened tips.
Her waist was so small he could circle it with his hands. Her hips were slender, yet with enough substance she could accommodate his form between them. That thought brought about another painful tightening of his balls.
No, tonight he would not have her in the way that would make her his forever, but he would hear cries of ecstasy pour from her lips and know that he'd given her pleasure.
"Raise your knees, Solara."
Her shift parted and slid down her silken thighs, revealing the treasure between them. Scarlet curls covered the mound of her sex. Her pussy glistened with moisture, an invitation he was unable to resist. He swiped at her nectar, watching her shiver, hearing her moan of pleasure as he brushed against her clit.
With deliberate slowness, he brought his finger to his mouth, licking her essence from his fingers. Solara watched him with rapt attention, her tongue darting out to sweep over her own lips. The urge to give her his cock was overwhelming.
"Aye, Roarke, let me taste you."
A smile graced her lips. She'd made telepathic contact with him. He laughed, realizing that he'd let his guard down and allowed her insight into his thoughts.
"So you'd like to suck my cock, faerie?"
"Yes, you know I would."
He thrilled at the promise in her words, the enticing way she eagerly licked her lips as if she were starved for him. Moving quickly, he unclasped his breeches and took out his penis, stroking it slowly.
Greedy hands took over for his and she enveloped him, emitting a sigh of pleasure as she stroked his throbbing shaft. He bit back a groan and watched the movements of her small hands over his length.
She seemed a master at touch, knowing just how hard to stroke him. Pleasure unlike anything he'd ever known surged inside him. Suddenly eager to feel her mouth on him, he straddled her shoulders and bent forward, letting her take the lead.
Her tongue snaked out and licked the tip of his cock. Goosebumps rose on his skin at the contact of her warm, heated tongue on his sensitive flesh. He moved closer until her lips enveloped him.
Then she hummed, low and throaty, making him mad with the desire to thrust his shaft, hard, into her mouth. She teased him with her tongue, swirling it over the tip.
"That's so good, Roarke," she whispered, her gaze locked on his face as she took one long swipe of the head of his cock before engulfing him completely. His body shook with the force of his desire.
Cradling his balls in her hand, she tugged lightly. The sight of her mouth surrounding him was erotic, sinful, more arousing than anything he'd ever seen. She whimpered against his heated flesh.
Pleasing him excited her---what an astounding woman his faerie was. And she brought him to such heights he found it difficult to hold back.
"You had better stop, my faerie, or I will be filling that sweet mouth of yours with my come."
She smiled, then urged him to do just that by squeezing his shaft harder, sucking furiously on his cock. His balls drew up tight against his body, preparing for release. Bracing himself, he leaned over her, forcing more of his shaft into her hot, wet mouth, then exploded.
Swallowing greedily, she milked him until he had no more to give. Roarke panted, his body soaked with sweat. Despite the fact she'd emptied him, he was still hard, a fact that apparently wasn't lost on her as her eyes widened when he pulled his erect cock from her lips.
She was a magical woman, the very sight of her driving him to extremes of desire. She'd given him more pleasure than he thought possible, but they were not finished yet. He moved off and lay on the grass, pulling her against him. Her heart beat frantically against his ribs. Her sweet mouth called to him and he bent down to kiss her lip, his taste lingering on her mouth. That she would do such a thing for him, to him, without hesitation, proved that her potent sexuality more than matched his.
And now it was his turn to bring her the same release.
Solara's lips still tingled, her body burning with the need to come after taking Roarke over the edge. His cock was magnificent---more than she could have ever imagined. Taking him into her mouth had brought her to such a state of frenzy she wasn't certain she could stop from touching herself and obtaining release with him. Only his position over her chest had kept her from caressing her aching clit.
The throbbing between her legs had grown more insistent as she waited for Roarke to make the next move. Would he leave her, now that he was satiated?
Of course not. She'd no more thought it than his hands moved over her body, his skin as hot as hers. When his palm grazed her nipple, she gasped. His hand stilled and she looked up at him.
"Your body is so sensitive to my touch, Solara." To prove his point, he once again moved his fingers over her breast, lightly pulling the already distended nipple. Her core flooded with juices and she arched her hips.
Her body was much more than sensitive to his touch. She had been made just for him.
Only for him.
Fighting back tears, she refused to think about what would happen beyond this night. Tonight, she belonged to Roarke. What may come after that, she would not dwell upon.
"You brought me great pleasure, my faerie. And now I will try to please you in the same way."
It would not take much trying on his part. Already she was near orgasm. He had but only to brush his hand over her aching sex and she would cry out release.
Instead, he slowly trailed his fingers over her ribs, her belly, her hips, moving his body down until he was nestled between her spread legs. Her inclined position on the little hill afforded her a view of his dark brown locks. She reached for him, gently winding her fingers into his hair. With his gaze locked on hers, he took a long, slow swipe of her sex.
Surely the cries of ecstasy could not be hers. She was aware they were in a public place, knew that should someone be walking nearby, they would have heard her wails of pleasure. Yet she could not hold them back. Roarke's lips and tongue performed a magical dance along the folds of her pussy, lapping up the juices that had gathered there and lightly teasing the knot of pleasure aching for a suckling.
No man had ever pleasured her before. Truth, no man had ever touched her, as it was not allowed for a faerie princess who was betrothed to a king. Yes, she had pleasured herself many times, both with her hands and with the faerie tubara stick. But for her first actual lovemaking experience to be with Roarke was everything she had hoped for.
She felt no guilt at giving something that belonged to another. In her mind, her very heart, she knew she was Roarke's.
The sensations soaring through her body, however, were nothing like she could have imagined. Tension knotted her muscles. She drew up her legs, giving Roarke access to all of her.
"Such a beautiful cunt you have, my faerie," he murmured against her thigh, lightly nipping her tender flesh. He swept his fingers over her folds.
"Roarke." She breathed his name on a blissful sigh, her gaze transfixed on his mouth and his hands.
He pressed his palm against her, petting the area below her pussy, then dipping his finger against her moisture and wetting her nether region.
"I may not be able to take you with my cock. I may not be able to slip deep inside your hot pussy, but I will enter you tonight, my princess."
Unable to speak, her body cried out the words she could not say. Roarke added more moisture to his finger and then lightly breached her anus. She stiffened, expecting pain, but he covered her clit with his lips and lightly licked until all she knew was pleasure.
He continued to suckle her bud, at the same time probing deeper and deeper into her anus until he breached the barrier and slid his entire finger inside. She cried out at the pleasure. Relentlessly he lapped at her, swirling his tongue over her sex and fucking her lightly until she contracted hard around him.
"Roarke, please, I cannot hold back."
"Then come for me, my faerie. Let me drink your sweet honey."
When he pulled his finger nearly out of her body, then thrust hard inside her nether hole, she let out a keening wail of climax as she poured her essence onto his awaiting tongue. Her hips bucked off the grass as she fed him her sex, the swirling sensations taking over her thoughts, her voice and her actions.
Roarke held onto her as she rode out her orgasm, then gently removed his finger and cradled her body against his, taking her mouth in a heated kiss. She tasted her sex on him as he devoured her with his lips and tongue.
Clutching him as if she was never going to let him go, she pressed a kiss against his neck, noting the throbbing of his pulse. His rigid cock brushed her thigh, only inches away from her sex.
Oh, why could he not make love to her? They were fated to be together, the fire they brought forth consuming them both. Could he not see that?
Roarke sat up and helped adjust her clothing, then tucked his still hard shaft in his breeches. "It will be dawn soon. We must go before someone finds us."
"Go? And then what? After what we have just shared, has nothing changed between us?"
With a wistful smile he pressed a light kiss to her lips. "What could possibly change, my faerie? You are still betrothed to Braedon of Greenbriar. As it is, we should never have done what we just did. My apologies to you, princess, for taking advantage."
He was sorry for their love play, as if he'd just made a terrible mistake. Her joy of a few minutes ago evaporated, replaced by utter defeat. Her heart wrenched into a knot of pain. "I see. Being with me was only to release your lust?"
His tight-lipped visage told her the answer. "It meant much more than that, my faerie. But you are bound to another. I must honor your betrothal to King Braedon."
Just like that, he would let her go, into the arms of another man. He cared nothing for her. Fighting back the pool of tears welling in her eyes, she nodded. "I thought I mattered more to you than that. I thought..."
From the resigned look on his face she knew it was pointless to tell him how she felt.
"We cannot fight fate, Solara."
If he wanted to, he could try. By all that was magic, she was certainly trying to rail against the cruel destiny bestowed upon her.
Clearly, Roarke did not want to. She wasn't enough for him to fight for. "I understand. Goodbye, Roarke."
Before he had a chance to speak again, she opened her wings and flew above him, racing to the stairs leading to her quarters. Once safely inside her room, she shut and bolted the door, then threw herself face down on the bed.
Being with Roarke had only made things worse. Now she knew her feelings for him were genuine, and yet he would do nothing to change her fate.
His honor was admirable, even if she hated it right now. He would not betray his king or the southern king. Yet, Solara knew now that she could not honor her vow to marry. Something had to be done. Something had to change. What or how, she did not know.
Wiping away the moisture on her cheeks, she went in search of Trista.
"Solara is gone! I cannot find her!"
Roarke's head shot up at the sound of Trista's voice, dread turning his blood cold.
She entered the hall in a rush and threw herself into Noele's arms.
"What? What do you mean she is gone?" Noele's frantic look mirrored Roarke's feelings.
Trista's golden-flecked face was streaked with tears. "I went to find her this morning because she usually awakens before the rest of us. Her room was empty, her bedcovers undisturbed. I looked everywhere for her, Noele. I cannot find her!"
"Are you certain?" Garick asked as he stepped beside his wife. A concerned frown etched lines on his brow.
"Yes. I can feel it. She no longer resides at Winterland."
Garick turned to Noele, who closed her eyes and became very still. When she opened them a few seconds later, she nodded. "Trista speaks truth. Solara is not within the castle grounds."
Roarke remained silent and waited for instructions from Garick, despite his immediate desire to strip the castle walls bare and find Solara. Which was ridiculous since Noele had just stated she was nowhere on the grounds. And yet, he wanted to search for her, as if he could find her when no one else was able to. He could not reveal his feelings for the faerie, as she was not his to worry over.
But worry he did. After Garick called the guards into the search, they tore apart every inch of Winterland. By nightfall, it was confirmed---Solara was not there.
Noele sat in the hall with her chin drooping miserably on her chest, unchecked tears dropping onto her shift. Her sisters surrounded her, holding her hand and trying to console her. But they, too, were miserable, judging from their saddened faces.
Garick and Roarke sat across from the women, discussing their next plan of action and trying to determine whether Solara had left on her own or was taken.
"She could not have simply walked through the gates. Our guards posted there would have seen her. They would have stopped her."
Roarke nodded at Garick's statement, knowing it to be true. "Then she did not leave on her own."
Which meant she'd been taken, but by whom?
The thought of wizards capturing her was something he refused to consider. And yet they were the only likely source, having been known to spirit away the inhabitants of Winterland on a whim, without anyone noticing them. It had happened to Noele shortly after she'd married Garick.
But the people of Winterland had kept their psychic thoughts open, and not once had a resident of Winterland been abducted since that episode.
"I want to search the forests. Let me take a guard to patrol the area."
Garick nodded, then leaned over to whisper so that only Roarke could hear. "Be on the lookout for wizards. I would wager they have her. The who is a given. The where is another matter."
"Aye." Garick had been fortunate when Noele had disappeared that he'd been psychically connected to her. Garick had felt her, and that was how they'd managed to find her. But with Solara---
Wait. She had connected with him telepathically last night. Surely if she were captured she would know to open herself up so that he could find her. He closed his eyes and concentrated on her being. After several moments of no contact, he opened his eyes and cursed.
Garick was staring at him. "What is it?"
"Nothing."
A frown creased Garick's forehead. "You were trying to connect with Solara, weren't you?"
If he admitted to that, then Garick would know something intimate had transpired between him and Solara. "No. I am simply frustrated."
Guilt assailed him at having to keep his true thoughts from Garick, yet he would not compromise Solara by revealing what had happened between them.
Garick eyed him as if he suspected Roarke was lying, yet he simply shook his head and nodded. "Take some of the guard and search outside the castle."
Relieved at being allowed to do something productive instead of standing around, Roarke assembled a contingent of guards and rode out of the castle, determined that he would not return without Solara.
They rode in silence, Roarke leading the way into the western forests. The density of the forest created a wall of trees and sharp branches---no hope of finding a trail or to even know if someone had passed through there.
Beneficial as a protection around the castle, the thick forest prevented their enemies from using this venue to launch an attack. While one or two people could make their way through here, it was unlikely an entire army could. The trees grew thick here, almost too thick to guide the horses through. After awhile they stepped off and tethered the horses, then wove their way through the dense forest on foot.
Thick roots lined the forest floor, rising up from the ground and making travel precarious. Thin birch trees with low-hanging branches swiped at his face. He muttered a curse at having to look both down and up to ward off either a root or a tree branch.
At least Solara's red wings would stand out against the light-colored trunks of the trees. If she were even in there.
His mind strayed often to what had happened between him and Solara last night. Guilt mixed with a heady pleasure constantly interrupted his thoughts. The way he had left things with her---letting her believe she didn't matter, that she had to marry the southern king---was wrong. He could have taken time and care with his words, instead of letting his frustration answer her questions.
No, he could not ask for her. He had no right, he was not a king. The stricken look on her face when he'd dismissed her was painful, and yet he could not help but hurt her. What he said was truth. She would not, could not, ever be his. There was no point in telling her how he really felt about her. It would only have made her departure today more difficult, for her as well as for him. Better that she leave hating him. At least then he would know her heart would be clear when she reached Greenbriar.
Thoughts of Solara lying in the arms of Braedon of Greenbriar sent his blood boiling. He forced the visions aside so he could concentrate on finding her.
And when he found her, he would take her to another man.
No! Stop this. She does not belong to you, and she never will. Your fate lies down a different path, not with Solara.
His mind told him this, yet his heart refused to believe.
By early the next morning, they had scoured acres of forests and miles of steep, rugged cliffside. No sign of Solara. Roarke was loath to return to Winterland and have to tell Noele that her sister could not be found, but there was no recourse. He turned the troops around and headed back to the castle.
Where could she be? If the wizards had her, surely she would have opened herself telepathically, if not to him then definitely to her sisters. And yet not one of them felt the connection.
Unless she was already---
No. He refused to believe that. Even if they had kidnapped her, they would not have killed her. Taken her magic, yes, but the wizards typically left their captives alive. Without a magical soul, but alive nonetheless.
And in the transfer of magic he'd have felt her. He was sure of it. One thing he knew about Solara was her strength of will. She'd have fought to the death rather than give up her magic or any part of herself.
Despite the early hour, Winterland was a bustle of activity. Roarke dismounted and immediately set off for the hall to find Garick and Noele.
A half-dozen sets of hopeful eyes settled on him as he pushed open the door. He walked toward them as if in slow motion, wanting to delay the inevitable.
It didn't matter. Noele's lashes draped over her cheek and a single tear fell. She knew.
"You didn't find her."
Garick's statement was more of an answer than a question. Roarke had never felt more inept, had never felt like such a failure. "No, I did not."
"This makes no sense," Noele said, swiping at the tear. "She wouldn't have left on her own. If the wizards took her she'd have opened herself up so one of us could sense her. Unless she's---"
Noele stopped herself from saying the word Roarke had refused to think about. But the stricken look on her face told him she'd considered it.
"No. It can't be. I will not even think she could have come to fatal harm." Her eyes wide and filled with tears, Noele swept from the hall, Elise and Mina following.
"What next?" he asked Garick.
"Braedon will have to be told. He is expecting his bride-to-be, and custom dictates that she either arrive on time, or an emissary arrive explaining why she has not come forth."
Roarke sighed. Not only did they have Solara's safety to consider, but also the potential of a breach of custom, putting the relationship between the southern king and the faerie of D'Naath in jeopardy. Uniting all the lands north and south with D'Naath was paramount to developing a stronghold against the wizards.
"Aye. What would you have me do?"
"I will take half the guard and travel to Greenbriar. You must remain here and guard Winterland, and keep searching for Solara."
"And when she is found?" Roarke refused to consider "if".
Garick shook his head. "Hold her here until I return. You cannot escort her to Greenbriar with a contingent of guard. If I am to travel there, it would leave Winterland vulnerable to attack."
"Who from the faerie will you ask to take with you?"
"I will go."
Roarke turned at the sound of a small voice. Trista stood behind him, slowly fluttering her green and gold wings. A spot of color darkened her cheeks.
"You are volunteering to act as emissary for the faerie?" Garick asked.
Trista nodded and moved forward. "Aye. "
"Why?"
Something was wrong. Trista refused to meet Garick's eyes. Roarke had never known her to be shy. In fact, she was the boldest of the sisters. "I merely wish to assist you, Garick. And my sister, of course. Plus, as we will pass through D'Naath, I will alert our parents to Solara's disappearance. They will want to know so they can search for her there."
"So be it." Garick stood and whispered to one of the guard, then faced Trista. "Prepare yourself to leave by tomorrow morning."
Garick left the hall and Trista made to do so, but something in her manner made him curious. "Trista, before you go I wish to have a word with you."
She halted and turned. "Yes, Roarke?"
"Do you know something of Solara's disappearance?"
Her golden eyes widened and she shook her head, her wings flapping so furiously they created a draft around him. "Oh, no! Nothing at all, I swear it! I wish merely to help you."
Her denial broke too quickly from her lips, making Roarke suspicious of her intent. Trista was the trickster, the devious one, according to stories Noele had told them. Always one to play games, she never took anything too seriously. Surely she wouldn't think of doing anything to upset the delicate balance of the kingdoms.
"Make sure your intent is honorable, Trista. There is much at stake here."
She nodded soberly and fluttered up the stairs to the chambers.
Perhaps he'd misread her. She seemed genuinely concerned for her sister, and yet something in her manner led him to believe she was holding back. Had Solara told her what happened between them? Did Trista harbor some ill will towards him because of what he had done with Solara?
Ridiculous. He was merely worried for Solara's safety, much the same as he would be for any inhabitant of Winterland. Delving into Trista's every action was unwarranted. She knew nothing.
Roarke sat and contemplated additional areas he could search for Solara. This mystery of her disappearance became more vexing by the minute. She could not have been kidnapped by the wizards. Even if they had rendered her unconscious, her powers of telepathy would have reached her sisters. Or perhaps, he hoped, to him.
Something was not right. He felt responsible for her disappearance. A vague uneasiness had settled within him and refused to let go.
He had to find her.
\*
Noele worried her bottom lip and fluttered about her bedchamber, assisting Garick with preparations for his departure to the southern lands. Her worry was insurmountable. She worried for Solara, and for her husband's and sister's safety on the long journey to Greenbriar.
That, and she had a secret that she now could not tell her husband, for fear he would not make the journey and jeopardize the faerie treaty with Greenbriar. A joyful secret that would have to wait.
"I will miss you, my husband."
Garick turned warm gray eyes on her. "And I will miss you, my wife. Who will warm my bed at night?"
She heated under his penetrating gaze. "And who will warm mine? 'Twill be many a cold night until you return."
He gathered her into his arms and pulled her close. She laid her head on his broad chest, comforted by the steady beat of his heart. Garick tipped her chin up so she could look at his face. "My love will warm you in my absence. My heart always remains by your side."
She never knew she could experience love such as this. All her trepidation about marrying a man she had not chosen had flown away in a winter breeze when she realized her destiny. She loved Garick like she never thought she would be able to love. And now that love had borne fruit, and she was anxious to tell him her news.
But the news would wait. It would have to wait. She had to remain behind while he made the journey. His queen could not act as emissary for the faerie people. "How long will you be gone?"
"A fortnight at least, maybe more. Since we will pass through D'Naath, Trista and I will break the news to your parents. Travel itself will be seven days there and seven days back. Delivering the news to Braedon will not take but a day."
"What will you tell him?"
"That Solara has been delayed. That she is missing and we fear she has been kidnapped. I will tell him the truth."
Noele prayed the truth would be enough to satisfy him, that he would be willing to wait until Solara was found.
"You are a wonderful diplomat, Garick. You will find a way to convince him to wait."
Garick pulled her closer and touched his lips gently to hers, then enveloped her in a kiss that curled her toes and made her wings flutter madly.
"Make love to me, my faerie queen. Give me a memory to last a fortnight."
Her heart soared, her body awakening with a passion that could never be quenched as long as Garick held her in his arms. "With pleasure, my king."
"Roarke! Roarke, where are you?"
Noele's cries echoed in the courtyard where he stood with the guards. Roarke sheathed his sword and raced up the stairs to the hall. The doors were open and he hurried in, running to her side. "What is wrong?"
She waved a crumpled paper in front of him. "I cannot believe this was not discovered when we searched the castle, but Isolde found it when she was sweeping under my bed. It must have fallen from the bedcovers."
He took the paper and opened the note, scanning the words written in faerie script.
My dearest sister, Noele,
I will not abide by this decision which has been made for me. Forgive me. I realize what is at stake but I simply cannot be led blindly where I do not wish to go. I must be able to make my own choice. My mind is a mix of confusing thoughts, and I depart now to be alone. I need time to think. Do not fear for me, as I will be safe and will return soon.
With my love, Solara.
The worry that had held a tight grip on him for two days was washed away by a cold anger at the havoc Solara had created. "Is she insane? On a childish whim she decided to run off and pout instead of facing her fate like a woman grown?" He thrust the paper back into Noele's hands and turned away. Frustration ate at him and he wanted to crush something with his hands. Anything to take away the anger over Solara's idiotic act of selfishness.
Noele touched Roarke's arm. "This is so unlike Solara. She knows her duty, has always known it. No, she was not fond of the idea of marrying a man she never met, but she knew it was her fate and she was determined to see it through."
Roarke snorted and pointed at the note. "Apparently she changed her mind."
"Something must have happened. It had to have been monumental for her to run off like this. 'Tis not like her at all."
Her words gave him pause, forcing his anger aside. Had the "something" that happened been him? Had he pushed her beyond her ability to face her fate? Did her feelings for him run so strong that she would give up her destiny rather than marry a man she did not love?
More importantly, how did he feel about her decision, if that was the case? Before now he refused to face his desire for Solara. From the moment he met her he'd felt their connection. No woman had ever touched his emotions as she had.
His feelings didn't matter. Despite what his heart told him, she still was not his. She belonged to Braedon. She knew that as well as he and it was ridiculous for her to play such a game. "Do you have any idea where she might have gone?"
Noele shook her head. "No. And she clearly has blocked all of us out of her thoughts. You searched the forests well?"
"Aye."
"Might I suggest you search again? I am convinced that is where she is hidden, as the forests would give her the comfort of home. She would wish to be near D'Naath, but would not travel so far by herself."
"I have already thoroughly searched the forests. She was not there."
Noele's lips crooked into a smile. "Did you look up?"
"Up?"
"Up, as in the tree branches."
Bloody hell. Solara was a faerie, after all. Had he not been so wrapped up in thoughts of why she had disappeared, he would have remembered to search the branches of the trees.
"I'm an idiot. I'll go search for her there."
Noele laughed. "You are no such thing. And Roarke?"
"Yes?"
"Please find my sister and bring her back."
He gave her a solemn nod. "I swear to you I will find her."
Whether he brought her back in one piece or not was another matter. She might just have a bruised backside when he was through with her.
As he waited for the guards to assemble, his mind strayed to punishing Solara for running off. His cock twitched to life at the thought of spanking her bare ass, then turning her over and fucking her until she was his forever.
With a disgusted sigh at his wayward thoughts, he rode through the gates of Winterland and headed for the forests.
\*
Solara pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs, easily balancing on the top branch of a willow tree. Wistfully, she put her chin on her knees and stared at Winterland castle.
For three days she'd remained in the forest and thought about the alternatives to marrying Braedon of Greenbriar. Three days of watching Winterland from the tops of the tree branches, eating berries and nuts and drinking from the small streams. Three days of not sleeping much at all. And after all this thinking she had come to no other conclusion than she would have to go through with the marriage.
"What does it matter?" she said out loud, hoping the forest and the wide-open sky above her would provide the answers her own mind and heart could not. "Roarke has no feelings for me. To him, I was merely a female who released his desires, no more, no less than any other woman he has known. Better to meet my fate head-on than to suffer the rest of my life pining away for a man who would not give me his heart."
She closed her eyes, knowing she would have much explaining to do when she returned to the castle. No doubt, Roarke had already left for Greenbriar to explain her delay to the southern king.
"Good. I hope he chokes on his apology for my absence. I hope that Braedon is already so full of desire for me that he punishes Roarke for my tardiness. I hope---"
She hoped that Roarke would admit that he loved her, and tell the southern king she would never arrive for their marriage, that he intended to defy law and marry her.
Laughing at her own ludicrous thoughts, she fluttered from the trees and landed softly on the earth. A knot formed in her stomach as she started toward the castle.
'Twas hunger that caused her belly to tighten, and nothing more. Certainly not guilt at sending Roarke and his guard on an unnecessary trip to Greenbriar. Definitely not remorse at worrying her sisters. Surviving on berries for three days had increased her hunger. That explained the pain in her stomach.
Hopefully Trista had explained to them that she needed time away for a day or so. She had entrusted the note into Trista's hands and gave her sister instructions to present it to Noele the morning after she'd snuck out of the castle.
Creating a momentary diversion for the guards at the gate had been simple. She'd summoned her magic to create a disturbance in the rear courtyard. By the time the guards had returned to their posts, she had flown over the tall, stone gates unnoticed.
But now it was time to return and face her fate. She froze at the vibration of footsteps on the forest floor, hesitant to fly to the branches for fear she'd be seen.
She ducked beneath the drooping limbs of a thick willow, sheathing her red wings so they would not cast a glow beyond the greenery. Holding her breath, she shut her eyes tight and willed the intruders away.
Muttering a silent prayer that it was not the wizards crashing through the forest, she chanced a peek through a thick curtain of leaves, then smothered a gasp as she spotted the back of a man.
Whoever stood there heard her, and whipped around with sword over his head, ready to strike.
Recognizing the clothing as that of one of the guards of Winterland, she shouted, "Nay, do not strike! 'Tis Solara, faerie princess of D'Naath!"
Before she could inhale another breath, she was dragged roughly through the branches and brought up against a chest as solid as an oak tree. Warm hands dug into the tender flesh of her upper arms.
Solara tilted her head back and stared into the angry face of Roarke.
"Roarke! 'Tis you!" Without thinking, she stepped closer, relieved when he wrapped his arms around her.
"You are safe, faerie." His heart pounded against her cheek, his arms crushing her to him. She'd never felt safer in her life, even if she was in no danger to begin with.
"Of course I am safe," she whispered.
He pulled back and looked her over. "Where have you been?"
"Right here, atop one of the willow branches." She inhaled him, her body awakening to his earthy scent. Her nipples hardened against her shift at the contact of his chest against hers.
But he pushed her away so hard that she struggled to maintain her balance.
What was wrong with him? Why was he so angry with her?
"Stupid faerie," he muttered, then grabbed her wrist and turned, dragging her along behind him.
"Wait!" She dug in her heels until he stopped and regarded her with an impatient stare. "Is that all you have to say to me?"
"No. There is much I would like to say to you, but honor forces me to bite my tongue so as not to speak harshly to a princess."
Curiosity spurred her on. That, and a decided irritation at his annoyance. "You have my permission to speak freely. And why are you not leading the contingent to Greenbriar?"
"I do not need your permission to speak, but I doubt you wish to hear what I would like to say to you. Garick has gone to Greenbriar to explain why his sister-in-law is a fool."
Her eyes widened at his insult. "I most certainly am not a fool."
Roarke grabbed her arms and hauled her against him, his eyes as dark as the earth floor. "Do you realize the wizards could have captured you? There is a reason we do not allow our people to wander alone outside the gates of Winterland."
She wrenched her arms away from his grasp. "I was in no danger. I can take care of myself."
His arched brow told her he believed otherwise. "You are one small woman, and no match for an army."
Glaring back at him, she said, "You think so? Then explain why you brought an army yesterday and could not find me."
"You saw us searching for you, and yet you did not hail us?"
Perhaps she should have, and yet she had not been aware it was Roarke who looked for her. Would it have made any difference? "I was not ready to come back yesterday."
"And I suppose you are ready today."
"Aye. I was making my way back to Winterland when I heard your approach, and hid to be certain there was no danger."
"Danger? No. But you imperil yourself in another way with your childish actions."
"I feel no threat."
"You should."
"From where?"
"More likely from whom." He picked up her wrist again and began to pull her along. She fought as long as she could, but finally gave up. It was either follow along or be dragged.
Why he was so angered was beyond her. Yes, perhaps this delay was foolish. She had not expected Garick to leave the castle and venture to Greenbriar. But she thought Roarke would be happy to see her. Instead, he was furious. Why? Was he disappointed that she had not already left? Was her constant presence at Winterland a burden to him? She had so many questions, yet she refused to ask him again to explain himself.
"We could meet up with the guard much faster if you'd cooperate."
He'd been mumbling as they walked, but she at least heard that part. Digging in her heels, she pulled at him. "Roarke, stop. Your stride is much longer than mine and I am having a difficult time keeping up."
Truth, she was trying her best to delay returning to the castle, knowing she would have to depart for Greenbriar as soon as they went back.
He stopped finally, glaring at her. "You should have thought of that before you ran off to hide in the forest."
"I did not run off and hide. I came out here to think."
"About what?"
"About...things."
Rolling his eyes heavenward, he took off for the clearing without her. She scrambled to keep up, no longer wishing to be left alone. "I saw that look you gave me. Did you not see the note I left?"
He whirled around and pointed a finger at her. "Aye, we found your hidden note. The day after Garick and half of Winterland's guards left for Greenbriar."
"What? I left the note with..." Oh no. Trista. She closed her eyes and knew that she was in serious trouble. Trista had not given the note to Noele after she'd left.
"You left the note under the bed, hoping no one would discover it until they were well away."
"That is not true!"
"You are a coward, Solara. I had thought you a brave woman until you acted like a spoiled child and ran off."
He was not even willing to listen to her explanations. Irritation made her blood run hot. "I am not a child, and I am certainly not spoiled."
"You deserve a spanking for the way you've behaved. Do you know how worried everyone was when they could not find you? They thought you had been captured by the wizards. Your sisters cried for two days. Garick has had to leave his castle, accompanied by Trista, to explain your absence to your betrothed."
This was not going at all the way she had envisioned. She had told Trista she needed some time alone before leaving to Greenbriar. Trista had changed everything. No doubt, some scheme had formulated in her little sister's devious mind. The stars only knew what Trista had planned once she reached Greenbriar.
"Believe me when I say that is not what I intended. I only meant to---"
"You only meant to hide from your fate. You can't escape it, and now others must face it for you because of your cowardice."
He thought so little of her. "I am no coward. Let me explain."
"You owe me no explanations. Save them for Noele. Explain to her why she has to be without her husband for a fortnight, and then another contingent will have to take you to Greenbriar after they return."
"After? I thought I would be escorted as soon as I came back to the castle."
He towered over her, his long frame casting a dark shadow over her body. "Once again, you thought incorrectly. The journey to Greenbriar is fraught with danger. Garick has taken half the Winterland guard with him. You think we would leave Winterland vulnerable to guide you there now? Nay, you will remain at the castle until Garick's return. Then you will be taken to Greenbriar."
Roarke was right. She had created a disaster. Worse, he did not believe it was not what she had intended.
Blaming Trista was convenient, but wrong. In fact, she had only herself to blame. She lowered her lashes, embarrassed at what Roarke must think of her. "I will accompany you back to Winterland with no objection."
"'Twouldn't matter if you objected or not. I can easily sling you over my shoulder and carry you that way if you fight me."
She walked along beside him, scurrying to keep up with his quick stride. Everything she had tried to accomplish had failed miserably. Was it so wrong to want a day or two alone? How was she to know that Garick would set off immediately for Greenbriar without waiting for her return?
How could Trista have manipulated them so? What was her sister's intent? She shook her head, knowing she shouldn't have trusted the little minx. Trista had offered her help, had told her to go to the forests and think while she tried to come up with a plan to prevent Solara's marriage to Braedon.
How easily she had grasped the opportunity to escape her fate.
How foolish she had been to think that her destiny could be changed.
Or that Roarke would care enough to be glad she remained behind.
Solara's reunion with her sisters was bittersweet. Noele, Elise and Mina cried and hugged her, relief showing on their tear-streaked, smiling faces.
Guilt pounded away at her, the ache in her belly remaining long after she'd been fed. Having bathed and slipped on a warm gown, she paced the confining chamber, wishing she could have a single moment of peace.
But peace would not come. She remained unsettled despite her days spent in the forest thinking over her fate. Resigned to the fact that nothing would change, she would simply have to wait out the days until Garick returned so she could then be taken to Greenbriar.
The time for feeling sorry for herself was over. Marrying Braedon was her destiny, her duty, and she would follow through no matter where her heart lay.
What a terrible day this had been.
Once she and Roarke had met up with the guards, they had ridden silently back to Winterland. Solara had been forced to sit with him on his horse, her body painfully aware of his broad chest and muscular thighs as she rode in front of him. With every jolt, her buttocks had rocked against his groin.
Despite his obvious irritation, he had hardened, but she refused to turn around and look at him, fearing what she might see there.
Or not see.
After they had returned to the castle, Roarke had presented her to Noele, then turned on his heel and strode out of the hall without another word. She had not seen him at dinner that night, either.
Whatever attraction she felt for Roarke would have to be tamped down during the two weeks she awaited Garick's return. It was time to think of her new life as the Queen of Greenbriar. She would spend time with her sisters, knowing it would be a long while before she could see them again.
A soft knock sounded at her door. She called entrance, and Noele stepped in, closing the door gently behind her.
"Are you still hungry?"
Solara shook her head.
"Are you comfortable?"
"Aye." She and her sisters did not sit on formality. "What is on your mind, Noele?"
Noele sat on the couch near the hearth, patting a cushion next to her. Solara took her place at her sister's side and waited for the questions.
"Why, Solara?"
Now she felt like the foolish child that Roarke had called her. She laced her fingers together and contemplated her lap. "I wish I knew. The night before we were to leave...something happened."
"What happened?"
How much should she tell Noele? Could she confide in her sister about her feelings for Roarke? If she told Noele about what happened between her and Roarke, Noele would have to tell Garick. Or lie to him to protect Solara and Roarke. That, she would not ask her sister to do.
"I simply had a feeling that my betrothal to Braedon was not right, was not my destiny." She looked up and met Noele's blue eyes. "I wrote the note and gave it to Trista. She swore to me that she would deliver it to you that morning."
Noele pursed her lips. "Ah, I see our little sister is up to her old tricks."
"I had no idea she would hide the note from you. You must believe I would never intentionally worry you so."
Noele took her hands and held them. "I believe you. I know how difficult this has been for you, betrothed to a man you have never met. Uncertainty fills your life right now, mixed with a bit of fear at the unknown."
"I know you of all people are aware of my feelings." Only Noele had not been in love with another man when she met Garick. There was the difference. A difference she could not begin to explain to her sister.
"I beg your forgiveness, Noele. I am sorry that Garick had to leave and explain my absence to Braedon. I know you hate to be apart from him."
"I do not blame you, sister. How could you know that Trista would hide the note?"
"I should know better than to trust the little minx. I worry about what kind of havoc she will create once in Greenbriar."
"Oh, Garick will make sure she maintains proper decorum. Have no fear on that count."
When Trista was involved, one never knew what could happen. Already she'd made a bigger mess of the situation here than Solara had made by herself. As if she had needed help causing chaos at Winterland.
"Nevertheless, I will still beg forgiveness from you, and from Garick upon his return. As far as Trista, I will be having a firm word with her when she arrives."
Noele laughed. "As will we both. Come now, let us get some sleep."
When Noele stood, she swayed and grabbed for Solara's hands. Alarmed, Solara gently sat her back down.
"What is wrong?"
Noele offered a gentle smile. "I felt a bit faint for a moment. I am fine now."
"You're pale. Something is wrong with you." She stood, intending to call for Isolde, but Noele grabbed her hand.
"There is nothing wrong with me, Solara. Sit down."
She shook her head. "No. You are dizzy and obviously something ails you. Let me get Isolde and she can fetch the physician."
"I have already seen the physician, and he pronounced me fit. And pregnant."
Solara sat abruptly. "Pregnant? You are having a child?"
The color began to return to Noele's face, the silver on her cheeks sparkling. "Aye. In seven months time."
Joy replaced her earlier anguish and she hugged Noele fiercely. "I am so happy for you. May all that is magic in the universe bestow the gifts of love and happiness on your child."
Noele nodded. "Thank you, Solara."
"I imagine Garick is beaming with pride."
"He will be, once I tell him."
"He does not know yet?"
"I only found out two days ago. I did not want to tell him before he left for Greenbriar, knowing how he would worry."
The guilty feeling returned. "Oh, Noele, I am so sorry that you had to delay telling Garick your good news. I truly have mucked things up, haven't I?"
Noele graced her with a beautiful smile, the magic of her happiness giving her a silver glow like a halo surrounding her body. "You have followed your heart, Solara. There is nothing wrong with that."
"I have been impulsive and stupid for no reason. There is plenty wrong with that."
Noele laughed and kissed her forehead. "Rest now. We will talk more tomorrow. There is much to plan now that the baby is coming."
After Noele left, Solara paced her chambers, with every passing moment convinced that Garick needed to return to Winterland immediately. She worried about the danger he might face traveling to and from Greenbriar.
What if something happened to him? Not only would his child not have a father, but he would never even know about the child he'd created with Noele. And it would be entirely her fault.
She had to do something, and now. Hurrying out of her room, she crept down the hallway, stopping in front of the massive door leading to Roarke's chambers.
It was late. Would he be abed? Images of him throwing open the door naked refused to leave her mind.
Now is not the time for fantasies of Roarke. He is the only one who can help you. You need his warrior's heart right now more than you need his man's body.
If only she could convince her own traitorous body of that fact. Before her courage failed, she rapped on the door.
Her heart leaped into her throat as Roarke threw open the door. She tried to keep her eyes focused on his face, except he wore only half-laced breeches and no shirt. His chest gleamed strong and smooth in the light of the hallway.
"What do you want?"
His gruff voice nearly scattered her flagging courage. "I need to speak with you."
"See me in the morning. I'm busy right now."
He made to close the door. "Roarke, please. It's urgent."
With a resigned sigh he motioned her inside and shut the door. "It's very late and you should not be here in my room."
She walked in, her gaze gravitating to the huge bed in the middle of the room. Fur coverlets looked warm and inviting. Shaking off thoughts of Roarke's bed and the endless possibilities of what they could do there, she stepped in front of the hearth and warmed her cold hands, preferring to stare into the flames rather than his half-naked body. "I have something important to tell you."
"I think we've said enough."
"This is not about you and me."
"Then what is it? And will you turn around? I find it difficult to converse with your backside."
She whipped around and looked at his face. He had stepped close to her, so close the golden flecks in his eyes glowed from the firelight. Shots of molten heat emanated from his gaze.
She swallowed past the dry lump in her throat and concentrated on his face, rather than his bronzed chest. Except his face was a work of art, too, his angular features accentuated by his closely trimmed beard. She remembered the softness of his beard against her thighs, and clamped her legs together to ward off the moisture gathering there.
Unfortunately, she could do nothing about her nipples beading against her thin gown.
Roarke must have noticed, because he dropped his gaze to her chest, then back up again at her face. "Make it quick, Solara."
"It's...it's about Noele. She is with child."
His eyes widened. "Are you certain of this?"
"Aye. She told me tonight."
"Does Garick know?"
She shook her head. "No. She did not tell him before he left for Greenbriar."
"Why not?"
"Because she was afraid he would not go if she told him. She feared for D'Naath if Braedon was not advised of the delay."
He did not have to say the words, because she felt them within herself. Because of her.
"And what problem does this present? She can simply tell him upon his return."
Obviously Roarke failed to see the urgency in getting Garick to return. "Garick should be alerted so that he can immediately return to Winterland. He belongs here, with his wife and child."
"That is not possible."
"Please, Roarke. Can't you ride out and bring him back?"
"Is everything so simple to you, Solara? I cannot leave Winterland. I am sworn to protect it during Garick's absence."
"Then send a few of the guards to catch up to him. He would be delayed in D'Naath for a day."
"No. We can spare no guards. Besides, it would do no good. Garick must go to Greenbriar with haste. He will not stay even a day in D'Naath, merely alert your parents to your disappearance and move on to the southern lands. Braedon must be told immediately."
"Oh, why must we have all this ritual and custom? If I was not expected on a certain day, this would have been much simpler."
"If you had stayed here and left for Greenbriar when you should have, there would be no problem."
"If you hadn't touched me, perhaps I would have."
His eyes widened. Her fingers brushed over her lips, unable to believe what she'd just uttered.
If she had but one wish right now, it would be to take back what she had just said.
\*
Roarke stared speechless at Solara, unable to find a retort for her revelation.
Because of him she'd run off? Because of him she had not wanted to go to Greenbriar?
"If I hadn't touched you. Care to explain that?"
Her dark lashes fluttered against her cheeks as she looked down. "No. 'Twas not what I meant."
"Then what did you mean?" No, do not ask her to explain. Do not spend any more time alone with this faerie than necessary. She is too dangerous.
"I meant...what I meant was...oh what does it matter? Can't you take me to Greenbriar yourself? If we cannot bring Garick back, then you can escort me there so he can hurry back. Maybe we would even catch up with him and he could turn around."
He grasped her shoulders and forced her to meet his gaze, hoping he could make her understand. "Have you listened to anything I've told you? I cannot leave Winterland, I cannot fetch Garick and I cannot take you to Greenbriar. You are simply going to have to wait until he returns, then you can go."
Perhaps she had decided to hurry on to Greenbriar because she'd found nothing in Winterland to stay for.
And now he was being ridiculous. He did not want her to stay. Her destiny lay with the southern king, not at Winterland.
"I have heard you; I just refuse to believe there is no other way."
Her skin was soft as cream, her scent permeating the air and making him mad with the urge to bury his lips against the pounding pulse in her neck. She stood with her back to the fire, the flames from the hearth appearing as if they burned through her scarlet wings. Her face was shadowed and her entire body glowed like a bonfire.
The same way she lit him up, setting him afire each time he was near her. She was the magical flame, he the tinder that longed for the spark.
Damn his desires, and damn her for tempting him this way. His only recourse was to make her so angry she would leave.
"You will get what you want soon enough, Solara. For now, you will simply have to be patient and wait until Garick and the guards return. Your childish actions have put both Garick and your sister in danger. Why don't you spend the time praying for their safety instead of concocting more ridiculous schemes?"
He heard the rush of air as she sucked in a breath. Unfortunately, it also forced her breasts against the thin gown she wore, outlining nipples that he remembered touching, tasting. His cock came to life and he realized that railing against her would never tamp down the need he had for her.
"Why do you act as if I've injured you?" she asked, folding her arms across those delectable breasts. "I have done nothing to you, Roarke. I have asked nothing of you."
Her skin burned against his hands, and he pulled away as if she'd just set him on fire. "You have injured my king with your foolishness. You have put Winterland at risk by diluting our guard strength. And you have taken Garick away from Noele when they should be celebrating together, not suffering apart."
She winced and turned away, swiping at a tear creeping down her cheek.
Remorse fought hard over the need to remain impervious to her beauty. Not one to hurt a woman, he wanted to take her into his arms, stroke her hair, and murmur apologies against her soft lips.
But that he could not, would not do.
Ever.
What he could do, what he had to do, was stay as far away from her as possible. Beginning with removing her from his room before he did something foolish like carry her to his bed and sink his shaft deep inside her sweet cunt.
"It's late and I have much to do tomorrow. You should leave."
She nodded, her eyes like moist, green pools. Blinking against the tears, she said, "Aye, that I should. My apologies for wasting your time, Roarke."
She fled his room quickly, shutting the door behind her. Roarke released the tension knotting his shoulders and turned to his bed, knowing that sleep would not come for him tonight.
He cared for Solara, that much he could admit to himself. But caring and wanting warred with honor and duty, and in the end, he would do what was expected of him.
He would leave Solara alone, no matter how much he wanted her.
Solara busied herself tending to the tables, making sure the cloths were set so the dishes could be brought out.
"I saw you last night, Solara. What were you doing sneaking out of Roarke's bedroom in the middle hours?"
She turned at the sound of Noele's voice. Attempting a nonchalant shrug, she said, "I asked him to fetch Garick."
"You did what?"
She refused to look at her sister. "I asked him to bring Garick back and take me to Greenbriar."
"I assume he told you that notion was ridiculous."
Did no one take her side? "Yes, he made that quite clear."
"I'm surprised you would put yourself in a compromising position like that. You know better than to go to a man's room. You are a virgin Solara, and promised to another."
Solara didn't respond.
"Aren't you?"
"You know very well I am promised to Braedon. Your comment did not require a response."
"And are you still a virgin?"
Solara looked up and scanned the room, grateful that she and Noele were alone. "Aye, I am still a virgin."
"You play with fire, sister."
"I play with no such thing. I am resigned to my duties, Noele. Do not fear that I will do anything else to embarrass you or Garick."
"I do not worry for that. You have done nothing to embarrass us. You are simply confused. I want to make sure your confusion does not lead you to make a mistake."
How easily it would have been to make a mistake with Roarke that night. If he'd told her he wanted to make love to her, she would have gladly given her virginity to him, only to discover later that he cared nothing for her.
As it was, he had made it clear that he couldn't wait for her to leave Winterland, that she was nothing but a hindrance.
"You do not need to worry. My head and my heart are clear and I will fulfill my destiny."
"I can only hope you find love at the end of the road, Solara."
She let out a small laugh. "The kind of love Garick gives to you is a miracle, Noele. I do not hold out hope that I will ever be loved like that."
At that moment Roarke walked into the hall. Solara felt the heat cross her face. Despite her resolve to do her duty, she could not stop her body's reaction to seeing him, nor could she keep from watching his progress. He nodded to them as he approached.
"Good morning, Roarke," Noele said, gracing him with a smile.
His face lit up and he stopped, took Noele's hand in his and pressed a light kiss against her knuckles. "Good morning, my queen. I trust you slept well?"
"Very, thank you. What are you about today?"
"Shoring up the main gate, training of the guard, sharpening of swords. Typical daily duties. And you?"
"Seeing to the cooking, making sure the linens are changed in all the bedchambers, and tending to my garden, as always. May you have a pleasing day, Roarke."
"You too, my queen." He turned, then as if in afterthought, inclined his head slightly in Solara's direction before leaving the hall.
She might as well have been invisible for all the attention he paid her. Turning away, she grabbed the dishes and began to slam them down on the tables.
"If you take your anger out on my dishes, I fear we will need to replace them."
Noele's teasing voice did not help her disposition at all. "I don't know what you're talking about. I am merely setting places at the table."
"I think you are jealous of the attention Roarke pays me."
"Jealous?" She whirled around to face her sister, only to find a teasing grin on Noele's face.
"Aye. Jealous. Roarke pays only the appropriate amount of attention to me. We are friends. He is my guardian and my protector."
He had also been her sister's lover for one night. Granted, it was elvin custom that the king share his bride with his protector, but Solara would not soon forget that Noele had shared a part of Roarke that she never would.
Noele bent her head to Solara's and whispered. "What happened with Roarke and I was required custom. One time, and nothing more. You know where my heart lies, sister."
Solara realized she hadn't shut off her thoughts from Noele. She took her sister's hands. "I meant nothing by my thoughts. I'm being foolish, 'tis all."
Noele motioned to a group of women just entering the hall, giving instructions for serving the food. "Come walk with me to the gardens. The meal will not be served for a bit and I wish to speak alone with you."
She followed Noele, nervous and anxious at what her sister had to say.
Noele had been right. She had no business going to Roarke's room last night. What if something had happened? Something...compromising.
Of course for that to occur, Roarke would have had to be interested. Which, clearly, he was not. Since that night in the gardens he hadn't touched her, hadn't indicated he wanted her as he had then.
With a sigh she kneeled on the sun-warmed ground next to Noele, helping her tend to the flowers and herbs. And waited.
Noele contemplated what she would say to her sister about Roarke. She plucked at weeds while planning her words carefully.
She sighed, wondering if she should even broach the subject. If she delved deep, used her magic, and saw a destiny for Solara that she shouldn't see, then what would she do?
And yet the sense that Solara's fate lie down another path had wriggled its way into her mind since the day her sister had arrived at Winterland.
The feeling grew stronger when Solara and Roarke occupied the same room.
"The onions and cabbage are coming along nicely," she murmured absently, pulling away weeds threatening to choke the new vegetables. "The herbs will be ready soon. I must remember to pick them."
"What is on your mind, Noele?"
Placing the weeds on the warm grass next to her, Noele gazed into Solara's eyes. "I wonder about your fate."
"What of it?"
"Simply curious. Indulge me." She took Solara's hands into her own, closed her eyes and concentrated on the magic within her.
Pregnancy had seemed to provide a clarity she hadn't possessed before. She saw farther, felt more deeply, than she'd been able to previously.
A warmth enveloped her like a cloak, shielding her from the cold chill of being out of her body. She saw a land similar to Winterland, a castle as beautiful as the one she called home.
But it wasn't a castle deep in the southern lands. Snow surrounded it, and forests just like the ones where she lived, with cliffs overlooking the northern sea.
She saw Solara standing on the cliffs, and the shadow of a man behind her. His features weren't visible, but he had dark hair flowing in the breeze and from the back looked like---
Jerking her hands away from Solara, she opened her eyes to find her sister regarding her with a wide-eyed expression.
"What? What did you see?"
Noele stood and brushed the grass from her shift. "Nothing. It...it was unclear. I have things I must tend to. We will speak later, sister."
She nearly ran from the gardens, needing to put as much distance between her and Solara as possible. She closed her thoughts in case Solara became curious and decided to probe.
Once she reached her bedroom, she shut the door and sat on the bed, curling her feet underneath her. Her heart pounded madly against her ribs and she placed her palm over her breast as if to quiet the riotous beats.
What she'd suspected was true. Solara's fate did not lie with Braedon of Greenbriar.
Her destiny was with Roarke. 'Twas Roarke Noele had seen in her vision, standing at the cliffs with his arms around Solara. 'Twas Roarke's heart she saw entwined with her sister's for all eternity.
But how could that be? Solara was promised to another. Their customs demanded the faerie princesses marry a king to whom they were betrothed, unless that king refused the marriage or chose another.
Roarke was neither a king nor the one to whom Solara was betrothed.
Their match could not be.
And yet, she had seen it clearly, knew it to be the truth. Roarke and Solara shared a destiny. All was unfolding as it should.
Or was it? She'd felt the tension since Roarke had brought Solara back to Winterland. They avoided each other completely.
Perhaps destiny would find its own way with those two.
And perhaps she would give it a little nudge in the right direction.
She smiled, a plan already formulating.
\*
"I feel so weak. I can barely stand. I fear my pregnancy sickness has begun."
Solara worried over Noele, picking up her hand and cradling it in her own.
Lying in the middle of the huge bed, Noele looked like a small child, so frail and weak. Yesterday in the gardens she had seemed fine.
"I am sure once you have something to eat, you will feel better."
When Noele had not come down to oversee the breakfast preparations, Solara had gone in search of her, finding her still abed and pale as her white wings.
"I cannot eat. Please, Solara, help me if you will. Go downstairs and see to the morning's preparations."
Her? Oversee a meal for hundreds? "I do not know how. Surely Isolde---"
"Oh, I could not ask her to run to and fro. As it is she has been staying by my bedside tending to me. Please, dear sister, I have no one else to rely on."
Seeing her sister's pitiful countenance convinced Solara to do whatever was necessary to make sure Noele rested and didn't worry about the castle. If it were not for her running off, Garick would be at Noele's bedside right now, caring for his wife.
"Of course. I will see to things immediately." She scurried toward the door, then paused, turning back to Noele. "What things should I be seeing to?"
By the time the castle inhabitants had sat down to the morning meal, Solara had managed to get the cloths and dishes on the table and ensured the kitchens were preparing the food Noele had ordered. She mentally ticked off the items on the list Noele had given her, marveling at what it took to ensure a castle ran smoothly.
"Where is Noele?"
She jumped at the sound of Roarke's voice. He took a seat next to hers, much to her dismay. "She is ill."
He frowned. "Is it the child?"
Nodding, she added, "'Tis common in pregnancy for the woman to fall ill during the first few months. She did not look at all well this morning, and cannot hold down any food."
Roarke swallowed hard, and Solara focused on his neck where the line of his beard ended and his skin began.
"I will see to her after the meal," Roarke said, then stood and moved down the table to sit with his men.
She watched him with a hunger that no food or drink could satisfy. No matter that he didn't want her, despite the fact she knew she could never have him, she wanted him with all her being. In her mind's eye, whenever she thought of her future, she thought of it with Roarke. Foolish notions, indeed.
She ate her meal with Elise and Mina, who bombarded her with questions about Noele. She placated them as well as she could, having promised Noele that she would not breathe a word of her pregnancy to anyone. Only she and Roarke knew of the child Noele carried. Noele wanted to tell Garick before anyone else found out.
After the meal, she made sure the rooms were cleaned and the temporary tables stored. Then she went to check on Noele.
Only Noele wasn't alone. Roarke sat on the edge of the bed, holding Noele's hand.
She stepped in the room and cleared her throat. Noele smiled weakly in her direction, but Roarke did not even turn to acknowledge her.
"Breakfast went well," Solara reported.
"Thank you."
"Are you better?"
She nodded. "Somewhat, although I am still weak. I fear I will have to find someone else to tend to my duties around here for a bit. I am so tired I can barely stay awake."
Solara slipped onto the edge of the bed, ignoring Roarke. Their knees touched and he moved his away.
Noele smiled, then put her hand over her mouth and yawned. "My apologies. I do not know why I am so tired."
"You carry a burden beyond your own body," Roarke said, then patted her hand. "You must rest. There are others here who can fill in."
His gaze gravitated to Solara. "Your sister, for example, has nothing to do to occupy her time until Garick returns."
Did he think her lazy? She had helped out whenever she could before now. Truly, the man was insufferable. "I have already offered my assistance."
"I'm afraid I will need more than just a little help, Solara. If this pregnancy is anything like Mother's, she was abed quite a bit in the beginning."
"I will do whatever you ask of me."
"Thank you. To begin with, I will need you to work with Roarke."
"I do not need her to work with me!" Roarke shot off the bed, backing away as if Noele had just set him on fire.
"Of course you do," Noele explained. "My sister knows nothing of running the keep. You know everything. In Garick's absence I need you to show her what needs to be done."
Show her? Solara swallowed past the lump in her throat. "Surely someone else can---"
"No, I think it would be best if you and Roarke worked together. With Garick and I both unable to fulfill our duties, there is much to be done beyond the daily running of the castle. Decisions must be made, and I trust no one else but the two of you. Solara, Elise and Mina can help with some of the daily chores. Roarke, put someone else in charge of training the guard so that your time is not consumed there."
Noele had changed from sister to Queen of Winterland. Solara had no choice but to do as she bid. "Aye. We will see it done."
Roarke nodded his assent, bowing his head. "You need but tell me what must be done, and I will make it so."
Noele's lips curled in a satisfied grin. "Perfect. Shall we get started, then? I have a very long list."
A very long list, indeed. Solara had no idea Noele was responsible for so much. Running the castle took up much of her day.
Apparently, her sister added on some of Garick's duties for Roarke to do, because the way the list read, Solara would be spending a considerable amount of time with Roarke, going over accounts and holding meetings with the townspeople.
The last thing she wanted was to spend time in close proximity to Roarke. He'd made it abundantly clear he had no interest in being with her, and in fact could not wait for her to leave Winterland.
Now that she knew how he felt, or how he didn't feel, she was anxious to move on to her new life. In the meantime, she would work alongside him in an effort to help Noele and Garick, and for no other reason.
They were to meet in Garick's offices this morning. Nervous flutterings in her stomach would not go away, and she blamed it on worries about doing a good job for Noele. After all, she had much to learn in a short period of time.
Shortly, she would be queen of her own lands. The sooner she became accustomed to her duties, the better she would handle the transition.
After checking on Noele, she headed to Garick's office. When she opened the door, she found Roarke sitting at the desk going over some papers. She admired the strength of his profile as he bent over two sets of ledgers sitting open on the desk.
He hadn't heard her enter, so she took a moment to watch him.
Stars, he was a beautiful man. Her breath caught and held as he ran his fingers through his long hair, and she recalled the exquisite sensation of touching him in the gardens.
That night had remained so fresh in her memories, and yet made her long to recapture a moment which seemed to have occurred a lifetime ago. She closed her eyes and recalled the way he touched her, his earthy scent fueling her desire for him. The way he had brought her to pleasure had been a dream fulfilled.
With a sigh, she opened her eyes and found Roarke staring at her.
"Daydreaming?" he asked, his sharp gaze sweeping from her head to her feet.
She shifted, not wanting to acknowledge the sensual darkening of his eyes.
You will not toy with me this way, Roarke. I will not stand by while you tell me you don't want me and then look at me like you wish to ravish me. "No, I was thinking of all the duties I have to fulfill. Not only here to assist Noele, but as Braedon's wife and Queen of Greenbriar."
His gaze lingered for a few seconds, then he turned away and looked down at the journal on the desk. "Come here, then. There are accounts that need settling. You will be managing accounts of your own soon enough."
He'd brushed her comment aside as if it meant nothing to him. Folly to think he would be bothered by thoughts of her marrying another man. She approached the desk and Roarke stood, pulling over a chair for her to sit. She retracted her wings and tried to position herself as far away from him as possible. His scent, so like the earthy smell of the forest she loved, permeated the room.
Attempting to concentrate on the books, her mind kept wandering. First, to the crisp, dark hairs on his forearm, then the way his shirt bunched up around his muscled biceps. She glanced down at her arm next to his, marveling at how much bigger he was than her.
"You must account for the number of sheep, geese, and chickens bought, marking them in the ledger in this column. Then, as they are butchered or sold, you track them here."
They spent the entire morning going over the accounts. By the time they had finished, Solara was miserable. She had watched every movement he made, breathed him in until his scent became a part of her, and wished with all her heart that once, just once, he would have touched her.
It did not matter how far away she was, or whom she was wed to. Her heart, her body, her very soul would belong to Roarke.
"You learn quickly," he said, turning in his chair until his knee brushed against her thigh.
Forcing the melancholy aside, she nodded. "I have had some experience in managing things. Our parents taught us much of what we would need to know."
"But there is more you have yet to learn."
She gazed up at the sound of his husky voice, his heated gaze causing her pulse to race. What did he mean? "What is it that I have yet to learn?"
"Running a keep, tending to the gardens, dealing with the various arguments and requests from the villagers."
"Oh." Of course he meant her duties as queen. How silly of her to think he would suggest she needed instruction in more passionate pursuits. Or that he would be the one to teach her. Although the thought of exactly what type of training he could provide had her body flushing with heat.
"And what did you think I meant?"
"Nothing." She stood and pushed back from the chair, circling around the desk to put some space between them. "Are we finished here?"
"In here, yes. Next we will have our meal, and after that meet with some of the villagers who have complaints and concerns."
She nodded, following him into the hall. During the meal, Roarke ignored her, sitting with some of the guards. She ate alone, since Elise and Mina were having their meal in Noele's room.
Which left her with nothing to do except watch him. With his men, Roarke laughed easily, smiled often, his booming voice echoing down the table and surrounding her, making her tremble with the desire to hear the husky tones whispered in her ear in the darkness.
After the meal, they took their seats at two large chairs normally reserved for Garick and Noele. It felt strange to be sitting with Roarke in chairs made for the king and queen of the castle. Almost comfortable, expected.
They spent the better part of the rest of the day solving disputes, granting requests and meting out disciplinary action to the villagers. Solara found Roarke to be diplomatic, stern, but also fair. She did not object to any of his edicts, and would have made the same recommendations had she been asked.
Which she hadn't. She laced her fingers together, contemplating strangling the man who did not once seek out her counsel on any of the affairs. By the time the hall emptied she was seething.
"Will that be all, my king?" she asked, not even trying to keep the sarcasm from her voice.
He turned and narrowed his eyes at her. "I am not your king."
Hands on hips, she faced him squarely. "You certainly acted as if I were nothing more than a servant at your feet. Not once did you ask my opinion of any dispute or request."
"Have you suddenly gone mute?"
"Obviously not."
"Did you disagree with anything I said or did?"
"Well, no."
"Then you have no reason to complain. If you had objections, you could have spoken up."
"'Tis not how it should work."
Mirth caused the gold flecks in his eyes to sparkle as if the sun shone directly on his face. "I see. And how should it work?"
"There should be discussion, compromise if necessary. But the king and the queen should discuss all matters relating to the inhabitants of their lands and come to a mutual agreement."
"Hmm, perhaps you are right. I shall keep that suggestion forefront in my mind for the next time we hold court together."
Which would hopefully be never. If she had to sit through another one of these episodes with him, she would strangle him. "Will that be all?"
"Here, yes. But now you will accompany me to the falconry."
It was already near dusk, and they had been working steadily since early morning. She could swear he was deliberately trying to exhaust her. "Why?"
"To tend to the birds there, of course. It is your job to oversee their care, make sure they receive the food and medicines necessary. While you will not perform these functions yourself, you will need to be aware what must be done so the birds are in prime hunting condition."
"Noele did not mention anything about the falconry."
"I am certain Noele was in no condition to explain every minute detail that goes into running a castle, especially in her condition. You will simply have to trust that I know what you need to learn."
She followed him out of the hall and across the courtyard, convinced that Roarke knew absolutely nothing about what she needed.
With a quick intake of breath she inhaled the fresh air, hoping it would clear her mind. Roarke's quick step was difficult to keep up with and she had to hurry along, not even able to take time to speak to Elise and Mina who waved at her from the entrance to the gardens.
They entered the falconry and observed the caretaker of the birds feeding one of Garick's most-prized gyrfalcons. A small chicken was brought into the open yard and the jesses on the gyr were released, allowing it to hunt and capture its prey.
Solara watched in fascination at the voracious appetite of the huge bird.
"They eat a lot, don't they?" she asked Roarke.
"Aye." He slipped on a leathered glove and held out his arm, letting loose a whistle that had the gyrfalcon instantly flying to him and settling upon the glove. He grabbed hold of the jesses. Solara followed him inside the mews, watching as he returned the falcon to its perch.
"Such beautiful creatures." Falconry was not practiced in D'Naath, and she had never ventured forth into the area where they were kept here in Winterland. This was her first opportunity to view the gyrfalcons and peregrines housed here.
"They are. Even more magnificent to watch them hunt out in the open fields and streams."
"I should like to see that some day," she murmured, her gaze transfixed on the gyrfalcon's actions.
"Perhaps you will have an opportunity to do so after you marry Braedon."
At the mention of Braedon's name, she looked up, surprised to find she and Roarke were alone. "Perhaps I will. I am certain he will be more than willing to teach me anything I'd like to know."
Dusky shadows fell over the dwelling, Roarke's face half-hidden in the murky light. He approached her, and she moved back a step.
"You are anxious for him to teach you?" he asked, his voice lowering to nearly a whisper.
"Aye, there is much I need to learn."
Roarke advanced another step and she retreated two, only to be halted by the rear wall of the falconry. Even the birds were quiet, lending a deafening silence to the ever-shrinking room.
"Tell me, Solara, what will you be asking Braedon to teach you?"
He was so close that if she inhaled strongly, the tips of her nipples would brush against the leather of his shirt.
"He will teach me things that I do not know."
"Such as?"
His nearness drove her mad. She could reach out and touch his broad chest, run her fingers through his long hair and capture the lips that had taunted her dreams for the past days. Trying to find her voice, she answered his question. "Such as how things are between a man and a woman."
Now his face was visible as he leaned over. She hid her arms behind her back, curling her fingers into her palms to keep from touching him.
"You are curious about sex, aren't you?"
"Aye. You should know that."
He laughed, a husky whisper that sent jolts of pleasure to her dampening pussy. Tension coiled deep in her belly. The air in the room seemed to thicken and she found it hard to breathe.
"Your curiosity is enticing. Any man would be more than happy to teach you the fine art of lovemaking, Solara."
Any man but him. She lifted her chin and said, "I look forward to it."
She teased him, she knew, but could not help herself. The language of his body spoke more of his feelings than any of his words to the contrary. He wanted her. She felt his desire everywhere as if he'd draped her in a blanket of his arousal. His breath came in short gasps, the same as hers. Did his heart race erratically as hers did?
Unable to hold back, she laid her palm on his chest, rewarded with his heartbeat thumping rapidly against her hand. A pulse pounded in his neck, calling to her. She wanted to lick that spot where his life's blood flowed, then nibble until he threw her down on the straw-laden floor and made love to her.
But he wouldn't. He would not touch her, and she knew that.
"Do not be so certain that you know what I will or will not do, my faerie," he responded.
He'd heard her thoughts. She'd let her guard down and he'd reached inside her mind. How easily he threw her off balance, made her forget to be wary. Had he not hurt her enough the other night? "You confuse me, Roarke. I do not know what you want."
"I know exactly what I want. Do you think it easy for me to see you every day, wanting you so much it takes my breath away, but knowing you are not mine to have?"
She closed her eyes, her heart soaring at his revelation. Was it possible to be so happy and yet so distraught at the same time?
"What are we to do, then?"
His hands encircled her waist, drawing her against him. "I know what we cannot do, but there are many things we can. You are a fire in my blood, Solara. I burn for you. Feel my flame."
He reached for her hand and placed it over his rigid cock. She gasped at the fierce heat emanating from his shaft.
Roarke tilted his head back and groaned. "Ah, yes. Your touch ignites me, faerie. I have a desire to feel your pussy under my hand, to dip my fingers in your sweet nectar and lick it from my fingers. Would you like that?"
She could not find the words to tell him, to beg him to do just that. She could only stare and nod, her throat too dry to voice a response.
His erection brushed against her thigh as he leaned in, licking the seam of her lips with his tongue. The dragon blew fire against her already heated mouth. "Open for me, Solara. Let me in."
Without hesitation she gave him her mouth. He slid his tongue inside, crushing her against his chest and winding his arms around her.
His tongue danced devilishly against hers, teasing, enticing, stealing what little breath she had left. She reached for his hair, tangling her fingers in the silken depths and tugging him closer. Her erect nipples brushed against worn leather and she whimpered, needing so much more than merely touching him.
"I know what you need, my princess." Roarke trailed kisses along her jaw and down her throat, licking along her collarbone and just below. She stood on her toes as if the very act of doing so would align her aching breasts with his mouth.
But he continued to tease her, swirling his tongue just above the swell of her breasts. His hands moved over her waist, then her hips, before traveling to her buttocks. He squeezed the twin globes there, then raised his head, crushed his mouth to hers and lifted her off the ground.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and he pushed her back against the wall of the falconry, rocking his erection against her pussy.
"Roarke, please," she cried, raining kisses along his throat, finally licking at that spot where his pulse pounded erratically against his neck.
"What do you seek, Solara? Tell me what you want."
Read my mind. You know my thoughts. You know my needs.
Aye, but I want to hear it. Talk to me, faerie. Tell me what you desire.
I need release. I want you to make love to me. I want your thick cock buried deep inside me. Please, Roarke.
In response, he muttered a curse and set her down until her feet touched the ground, then tore open her shift, baring her breasts. He covered them with his hands, finding her sensitive nipples and plucking them until they stood hard and needy. He bent over her, licking first one tip, then the other, until she could not think, could not breathe, could not do anything but experience the glorious sensations catapulting through her.
She reached for him, desperately needing to feel him in her hands.
"Not yet, faerie. Right now we will see to your needs."
Before she could utter a protest, he turned her around so her back rested against his chest. His fingers grazed her thighs as he raised her shift and gently slid his palm over the curls of her sex. He unlaced his breeches, his hot, hard cock pressing against her buttocks.
Despite his heavy breathing and the rigid length of his shaft thrusting between the globes of her rear, he was surprisingly gentle in his quest of her pussy. He lightly trailed his fingers over the swollen lips of her sex, slipping his fingers between the folds and finding the nub. With fingers moistened from the juices of her arousal, he circled her clit in relentless pursuit of her release.
Solara reached behind her to clutch Roarke's legs, barely able to stand. She cried out as he teased her entrance with his fingers, slipping just the tip inside her pussy.
"Please," she begged, so near release that tears of frustration trickled down her cheeks. "Please, Roarke, I need you inside me."
His whisper against her ear was harsh, tinged with the frustration they both felt. "I cannot fuck you, faerie, no matter how much we both want it."
She didn't understand. She no longer had the virginity barrier, having long ago dispensed with it by using the tubara stick in seeking her own pleasure. It was common for faerie to have no hymen when they reached the marriage bed.
"Oh, but I would know, and so would you. On my honor, I cannot fuck you."
"Damn you, Roarke." She whimpered, the combination of her deep arousal and frustration taking its toll. The inability to become one with him when she so desperately needed it compounded the tension building inside her. And still, Roarke continued to stroke her sex, taking her ever higher to the edge of the cliff.
He licked the spot between her neck and shoulder, then grazed his teeth along her tender skin. When he bit down, she cried out, sparks of painful pleasure setting her afire.
"I cannot take this, Roarke. Please."
He bit again, harder this time, at the same time driving his finger between the folds of her pussy. Her legs would not hold up and he wrapped one arm around her waist to steady her.
"Come for me, princess. Come hard. Scream for me like you never will for another man."
No other man could ever make her feel what Roarke made her feel. No other man would ever be able to elicit the response she gave him.
The tension built inside her like rushing water beating against a weakened dam wall. She felt it push at her, felt his fingers at her core, his thumb circling her engorged clit, and she could not hold back the torrent.
The dam burst and she screamed her orgasm, grinding her buttocks against his swollen cock and flooding his fingers with her juices.
He held tight to her, murmuring into her ear as she rode out the tidal wave of pleasure. Roarke stroked her hair, kissed her neck, then turned her around to face him, regarding her with a heated expression that nearly set her on fire.
With a low growl he laid her on the ground, lifting the shift above her hips and roughly spreading her legs apart.
She held her breath, afraid to move or speak, knowing what he wanted, what he needed, because it was the same thing she'd wanted since the moment she laid eyes on him.
His cock was swollen, the veins pulsing. The head of his shaft was purple and engorged. He squeezed the tip between his thumb and forefinger, droplets of pre-come spilling over his hand.
"Is this what you want, faerie? My cock in your cunt?"
"Yes," she whispered, lifting her hips as if to guide him to her entrance.
"Then it's what you shall have. Because by all that is magical, I cannot hold back any longer."
He reached for her sex, dipping his finger against the entrance to her core and spreading her silken fluid on the tip of his shaft. "You feel like soft butter, princess. Hot, creamy, butter. Tell me, are you as hot on the inside?"
"Make love to me Roarke. Make love to me now, and you will see."
He surged forward, then suddenly stopped.
She waited expectantly for him to plunge his heated shaft inside her, her body on fire for him.
But he did not move. Instead he backed away, tucking his hard shaft into his breeches and lacing them back up. He pulled her roughly to her feet and picked the straw from her shift.
"I don't understand. What did I do wrong?"
He laughed, but it was bitter, not full of joy or the promise of pleasures to be shared. "You did nothing, Solara. It was my mistake entirely."
Not again. Oh please, do not do this to me again.
"I almost fucked you. And that I swore I would not do. You are a temptation I cannot resist, Solara, and yet I must. We must. You are betrothed to another. Braedon deserves a virgin on his wedding night, and a virgin he shall have."
He turned from her, opened the door and walked out, leaving her alone in the gathering darkness.
"He is so consumed with honor and duty, he cannot see past his chivalrous attitude to realize we are meant to be together."
Solara muttered out loud and paced her bedchambers. She had not slept at all last night, her body quaking with the need to be possessed by Roarke. A need that, once again, had gone unfulfilled. Last night's play had merely whetted her appetite for more.
More that had not been forthcoming.
"He thinks he can simply toy with me and use me, taking me to the brink of insanity over and over again, only to cast me aside as if I'm a trollop and he's the gallant knight of honor." She picked up a pillow and tossed it at the window. Sounds of the guards' activities echoed over the courtyard and into the half open window. She heard Roarke's voice bellowing out orders to the master guard taking over his training duties, but refused to look down upon the yard to watch him.
The morning sun sparkled bright and high in the sky, and yet Solara still had not gone downstairs. She'd been to see Noele already. Her sister remained abed, still apparently too ill to tend to her duties. After that, she returned to her chambers.
She couldn't very well hide up here all day, although the thought was tempting. If not for Noele, she wouldn't leave the room until Garick returned and she was on her way to Greenbriar.
Avoiding Roarke was not possible, unfortunately. She would simply have to endure him until it came time for her to leave.
After last night, it was a certainty he would not touch her again. He'd taken her to such heights of ecstasy, to a place she had never dreamed existed.
But he had left himself unfulfilled, all because he refused to take her virginity.
She stretched her wings and raised her arms, hoping to diffuse some of the tension inside her.
Tension caused by sexual frustration, no doubt. If she weren't a virgin, she wouldn't be having these problems.
She stilled, her thoughts jumbling one on top of another as an idea surged forward.
If she were not a virgin, Braedon would not want to marry her.
If she were not a virgin, there would be hope for her and Roarke.
No, she couldn't. Dismissing the thought as a very bad idea, she started to leave her room, then stopped again, turning and walking to the window to peer down at Roarke.
How would her family react? Would she be disgraced? She wouldn't be the first faerie princess to forego marriage to a king in favor of physical pleasures with a commoner. It had been done before.
Her parents loved her, as did her sisters. They would forgive her. Another princess could marry Braedon. There were other kingdoms. Other potential brides for the southern king. Why did it have to be her?
In frustration she flopped onto the chaise and stared into the dark, cold hearth, realizing there was no way she could ever be with Roarke. As much as she wanted him, she would not disgrace her family. She had a duty to perform, and she was honor bound to do so.
Hopeless. Her wants, her needs, did not matter. To anyone.
Except her.
Could she not control one aspect of her life? Did she have no power at all?
Then she smiled. Perhaps she did wield some power, small though it might be.
Roarke may have done the honorable thing by not making love to her, but he'd certainly taken her to the brink and beyond, before stopping abruptly and leaving her aching with want for him. Toying with her, teasing her, heating her, then tossing a cold bucket of water over her inflamed senses.
Perhaps it was time she showed him exactly what he wasn't going to have.
Soon, it would be time for her to leave. By now, Garick and Trista would have arrived at Greenbriar, delivering the message of her delay and heading back to Winterland.
She did not have many days left here.
But what time she did have, she would make of good use.
Before Garick and Trista returned, Solara would make certain Roarke knew exactly what he was letting go.
\*
Trista inhaled sharply and pulled back on the reins of her horse. Looming ahead of them was the castle of Braedon, King of Greenbriar. The sun glinted off the moat like a shining beacon. For the first time in her life, she wondered if her impulsive nature had led her to make the wrong choice.
No, she was certain she was doing the right thing. Telling Braedon of Greenbriar that Solara did not want him would release her sister from having to marry. Braedon could simply choose another wife, and Solara would be free to marry whomever she chose.
For love, not for duty. The way it should be with all of them.
Temperatures soared once they'd reached the southern lands. She'd long ago pulled off her cloak, then discarded the heavy overdress until all she wore was her sleeveless shift. She opened and stretched her wings, thankful for the freedom the warmth allowed. Now if only she could fly instead of sitting on the horse Garick had provided her.
Reluctantly, she pulled forth her overdress and refastened it around her shift, feeling the heat press down on her.
"Are you tired?" Garick asked, sidling his horse beside hers.
She'd purposely evaded Garick for nearly a week, speaking minimally to him in order to avoid confessing her plot to keep Solara from having to marry Braedon.
"Aye. I am anxious to get back home."
"As am I. Hopefully Braedon will be understanding, and we can impart the news of Solara's delay, turn around and head back to Winterland."
And in the process, allow Solara the time she needed alone with Roarke. What would happen when they returned, she did not know. But she was hoping Braedon would give up on Solara and allow her to make her own choice of mate.
This custom of the faerie princesses having to marry a king was ridiculous. Too many faerie and elvin laws were antiquated and should be changed. Trista's own marriage to a king was coming up soon, although in her case one had not yet been chosen. The king she had been betrothed to since birth had died two years earlier, leaving no siblings and no other heirs. Had he lived, she would have been domiciled in lands adjacent to Noele. But since the king had no heirs, Garick had taken in the kingdom of Boreas as his own, so the people would be protected.
She glanced to her other side at her father, who had insisted upon accompanying them to Greenbriar. In truth, this made her deception more complex, as her father knew her better than anyone. When they'd arrived in D'Naath, the first thing he'd asked upon hearing of Solara's disappearance was whether she had any part in it.
Trista denied it, of course. Her father would be furious if he knew what she had done.
The castle loomed before them, surrounded by lush green meadows littered with bright yellow wildflowers. The sun sat high in the sky, illuminating the gray stones until they glittered like silver.
As if they were expected, the gates opened as soon as the front hooves of the lead horses struck the wooden planks of the drawbridge. Trista's throat went dry at the thought of having to go through with this charade. Yet she loved Solara and would do anything to see her sister happy.
If only Garick and her father would let it happen.
But she knew protocol, knew if she spoke first, her words would be heard.
They rode through the gates into a courtyard littered with people, who suddenly stopped and stared in awe.
At her.
Heaven's stars! Hadn't any of these people ever seen a faerie before?
But as she looked at them, she realized they were different from her, from Garick, from any people she knew.
By all that was magic, these people were humans! She fought hard to think, wondering if her father had ever mentioned that the people of Greenbriar were neither elvin nor faerie, but human.
Surely she would have remembered a fact as important as that.
An entourage approached, several men holding swords flanking one in the middle.
The one in the center was extremely tall. As tall as Garick and Roarke, she would guess.
Garick dismounted, as did her father, who came over to help her down. She stayed behind her father, curious and yet still shocked at having her first glimpse of humans.
Not that different from elvin or faerie men, actually. Although the faerie men tended to be shorter in stature than the others.
She squinted in the heated sunlight, trying to make out the features of the dark shapes approaching them. Her father reached for her hand and she grasped his fingers with gratitude, suddenly more nervous than she expected.
This plan had sounded much better in theory. Now that the time approached, she wondered if she would be brave enough to see it through.
Peering around the ample girth of her father, her eyes widened as the giant in the center of the crowd came into view.
"Stars," she whispered against her father's back. The man was beautiful. Dark brown hair bore golden-flecked streaks as if kissed by the very sun that shone down on them. Eyes as blue as the southern sea studied her.
What he could see of her, anyway.
His lips were full, his face clean shaven, rugged, his skin dark as if he spent his time outdoors. His ears were small and flat, nothing like the elvin men she was accustomed to meeting. Kind of funny-looking ears, actually. Where were the points?
But his body had surely been shaped by celestial beings. Broad-shouldered, muscles stretched taut against his leather jerkins, lean-waisted with strong legs.
For the first time in her life, Trista was incapable of speech. Not a very good thing, considering what she must do.
"Braedon of Greenbriar, we finally meet. I am Garick of Winterland."
This was Braedon, king of the southern lands? Perhaps she was remiss in keeping Solara from such a fine specimen of man. No, not true. No matter his beautiful appearance, this man was not destined for Solara.
"'Tis good to finally meet the king of the northern lands." He held out his hand and clasped Garick's.
"This is the father of my bride and king of D'Naath, Fraynor."
Her father nodded and also shook Braedon's hand.
"I welcome you to Greenbriar."
Once again, he stared at her. Surely he didn't think she was Solara. If so, she would have to correct that misconception immediately. She was not destined to marry this man.
If she had her way, she would marry no man that she did not choose for herself.
Open your mouth and say something, Trista, before your father or Garick does. It would have to be now or she would have made the trip for nothing.
Slipping her hand from her father's, she stepped boldly in front of him, trying to quell the shaking of her legs.
Braedon frowned as she stood before him and looked her up and down, assessing her from head to foot. Heat that had nothing to do with the sun had her flapping her wings to create a cooling breeze.
She tried a polite smile, but his facial expression did not change.
Did the man know how to smile? Maybe he was completely toothless. A grim line sealed his lips together.
Where was her voice? She swallowed and tried to speak, but no sound came out. If she did not say something soon, all would be lost.
"Braedon of Greenbriar, I am Trista, faerie princess of D'Naath and younger sister of your betrothed, Solara. I wish to speak." Her voice quaked and squeaked, but she pressed on. The last thing she wanted was for her father or Garick to stop her.
Braedon arched a brow, then nodded. "State your piece."
Breathing a sigh of relief that he had given her permission to continue, she nodded, wiping the sweat from her palms onto her shift.
"Trista," her father warned under his breath. She ignored him.
You can do this, Trista. Remember, it is for Solara.
"I am here to ask for release for Solara. It is my right as kin to request that you choose another bride, and that Solara be released from her betrothal to you."
"Trista!"
She winced at the sound of her father's booming voice, refusing to turn around and see what she knew would be his very angry face.
Braedon's lips curled upward. She supposed that was as much of a smile as he was capable of. Surely the stories of his grumbling personality were not true. No one could have as sour a disposition as he had been rumored to have.
He crossed his arms and regarded her. "So, your sister does not wish to marry me."
It was not a question, yet she answered anyway. "No, she does not."
Garick reached for her arm. "Trista, be silent!"
Braedon held up his hand. "Let her speak freely."
The hand gripping her arm loosened. For a moment she was afraid Garick was going to toss her onto the back of her horse and drag her out of the castle. She knew she was going to be in deep trouble with both her father and Garick when they left, but if this worked, her sister would be free to choose her own man.
"Trista, tell me. Did your sister send you here to inform me that she did not wish to marry me?"
If she told him the truth, he could still ask for Solara to hear the words from her directly. She hated lying, but it was the only way. "Yes."
"May I speak, Braedon?" her father interrupted.
"Yes."
"It is vital you marry a D'Naath princess. Our lands are bound to be joined by custom and law, which can only be done with the marriage of a faerie princess and the king of Greenbriar. In joining, we have strength against the armies of wizards bound to take over our lands. I ask that you reconsider this foolishness spouted by my daughter and allow us to bring Solara to you."
"I am aware of the protocol, Fraynor. I am also aware that your daughter Solara has every right to beg release from our betrothal contract. And it appears that through Trista she has exercised that right." Braedon rubbed his thumb over his bottom lip. Trista wondered if he did that while thinking. His mouth was generous, and she had a fleeting image of tugging on his lip with her teeth.
Shocked at the direction of her mind, she inhaled sharply and forced her mind to stay clear of such thoughts.
"Are all your daughters betrothed, Fraynor?"
"Nay. Trista here was betrothed to the King of Boreo, who as I'm sure you know suffered an untimely death several years ago."
"Ah yes, I had heard that."
Trista frowned. Something was amiss here, something she hadn't considered when she'd concocted her plan.
"It is true I am to marry a princess of D'Naath. Since one princess has invoked the right of refusal, perhaps I will take this one."
Trista's heart dropped to her stomach when Braedon pointed at her.
"No!" she cried, then clamped her mouth shut and closed her eyes, mortified at her own outburst.
"Trista!" her father hissed in her ear. "Enough of your talk. I think you have spoken enough. It is my turn now."
Before she could turn and beseech her father not to take Braedon's suggestion seriously, he grasped her by the elbow and propelled her forward. She stumbled into the arms of the king.
He wrapped his arms around her to hold her upright, his body as solid as the trunk of the tall oaks in D'Naath's forest. Afraid to even look at his face, she gazed into his chest.
That is, until he tipped her chin upward with his finger. His blues eyes mesmerized her, made her forget things she should not forget, and made her all too aware of things she should not be thinking of.
"Aye, this one will do. After all, one bride is as good as another. Trista, princess of D'Naath, I claim you for my betrothed. We will marry in one month, allowing us time to get to know one another and for arrangements to be made."
She waited, holding her breath, for her father to deny the request.
Instead, he said, "You are most kind to accept my daughter Trista. I am honored to betroth her to you."
Despite the warmth of the morning, a cold dread filled her body.
This could not be happening.
In less than a day, she was left behind while her father and Garick returned to Winterland. Her father left her strict instructions to do nothing to upset Braedon, then reinforced his warning by telling her that because of what she had done, she had sealed her own fate. The kingdom of D'Naath depended on her marrying him. She could not refuse to marry Braedon as he had already asked for her and her father had accepted.
She was stuck, trapped in a web of her own weaving.
This had not gone at all the way she had planned.
"Really, Noele, could you not have someone else perform these tasks?" Solara beseeched her sister, who rested on the mauve-colored chaise in her chambers. Elise and Mina sat with her, all of them gaping up at Solara.
Noele shook her head. "I trust no one to handle things but you. Is there some problem?"
Yes, but not one she could discuss with her sister. "No, no problem. It's just that..."
Just what? That she could not handle one more day of having Roarke underfoot? That he was like the devil's temptation, one that she could not resist?
Only this time the devil was doing the resisting. Not once in the past two days had he done anything to encourage her. Nor had they been alone. Roarke had made sure they either remained in public or that one of his guards accompanied them.
Really, she was much smaller than him. She could hardly pounce on and ravage him without his consent.
It was quite insulting, the more she thought about it.
"It's just that what?"
"It's Roarke."
She ignored the gawking stares of Elise and Mina and looked away from them, embarrassed that she had even brought up the subject.
"What is wrong with Roarke?"
"Nothing is wrong with him. Everything is wrong with him. I don't know. He treats me like a child, as if I couldn't make an intelligent decision if the very survival of the world depended upon it. Really, Noele, he is insufferable."
"Perhaps you care for him, and that is why it upsets you to be so close to him."
Solara whirled at Elise's statement, dumbfounded as to how to respond. Elise smiled innocently, her golden eyes sparkling with warmth.
Leave it to Elise to state the obvious. Even if it wasn't what she wanted to hear.
"I do not care for him. Perhaps you could take over my duties, Elise?"
"I need Elise to help me elsewhere," Noele interrupted. "Besides, neither she nor Mina are old enough or experienced enough to run a castle."
The twins were merely two years younger than her. And yet Noele was right. They hadn't yet been trained. She, at least, had received basic instructions on the daily goings on. And she had to admit that the past few days she had learned much under Roarke's tutelage.
What she wanted to learn from Roarke, he would not give her. Her training in the fine art of lovemaking would have to come from Braedon of Greenbriar, a thought which turned her stomach. She had never met the king, and the thought of anyone but Roarke touching her sent shudders of revulsion down her spine.
"Come, sit with us while I read to Noele," Mina said. "Really, Solara, you complain too much. Your time here is limited as it is. Surely you can bear up under whatever perceived torture Roarke bestows upon you."
And leave it to Mina to be insulting. "I am not tortured by him. I am merely perturbed at his attitude."
Mina fluttered her copper wings and stood, peering out the window at the guards training below. "Roarke is a male. They are annoying. One must learn to deal with that, I suppose."
Noele laughed, color rising to her cheeks. For the first time in days Solara saw her sister smile. Perhaps the torture would not last much longer. Once Noele was past the sickly days of early pregnancy, she would want to take over her duties again, thereby freeing Solara from Roarke's scrutiny.
"And speaking of duties, shouldn't you be seeking out Roarke to see what he has planned for you today?" Noele asked, setting down the needlepoint she'd been working on.
She'd sooner conjure up some magic and turn him to stone. "Yes, I suppose I should."
Noele stood and reached for her hands, squeezing them gently. "You may think you handle your troubles alone, sister, but remember that we are linked. I feel what you feel, I know what you know. Destiny will find a way. Be patient."
Noele may think she knew everything, but Solara had kept her thoughts and actions where Roarke was concerned locked up inside herself.
After she left Noele's chambers, Solara thought about what her sister had said. Destiny, fate, it was all a ridiculous notion. Her life was set in stone and could not be changed. Even if it could, the elvin warrior she wanted would never suffer dishonor to follow his heart. He was too steeped in ritual, in how things had always been done, to even consider the notion that perhaps there was another way.
Well, he might not choose her, but by the stars she would make certain he knew exactly what he was giving up.
It was time to put her plan into action.
\*
Roarke finished overseeing the repair and refitting of several of their battle weapons, confident that should a wizard attack occur, they would be prepared.
Next he had to find Solara.
A sigh of frustration escaped his lips as he searched the hall and courtyard for her. Clearly, she had been avoiding him since that night in the falconry.
Not that he blamed her. He had acted stupidly, nearly taking what was not his to take. No doubt she was confused by his abrupt change in attitude again.
If confusion reigned anywhere, it was deep within himself. He wanted Solara to the point of distraction, yet honor and duty forbade him from having her. The struggle he battled within himself was one he shared with her. And that was not fair. To her, or to himself. So he vowed to keep his distance, instruct her in her duties and go about his business instead of sniffing around her like a dog scenting a bitch in heat.
'Twas the most difficult thing he'd had to do. Every waking moment of his day was spent wanting her, aching for her. Walking around with throbbing cock and balls was more than a bit distracting, and yet such was his typical day.
Perhaps tonight in his chambers, he'd stroke his shaft and obtain release. Surely that would abate some of his pain. Already, thoughts of what he could do with Solara if she were his entered his mind. Yes, tonight, he would let his imagination run free, envision all the wicked things he wanted to do to the faerie princess, and release the tension threatening to explode.
But right now, he had to force back the hardening of his shaft and search out the elusive faerie. He found Isolde in the hall and she told him that she had last seen Solara heading toward the gardens.
The late afternoon sun beat down on his body, making him wish he could strip off his clothing. Instead, he wiped the sweat from his brow and weaved his way into the gardens.
She was not near the flowers, so he ventured further into the secluded recesses. Here, herbs and vegetables were grown, far away from where most of the castle inhabitants could be found. Tucked away here, they were safe from trampling along the well-used walkways. The seedlings were protected in the shrub-covered enclosure.
The sound of her voice emanated from the back row of plants. A lilting, faerie song escaped her lips, its notes melodic and haunting.
She had a beautiful voice, her song resonating with the poetry of unrequited love. Ignoring the stirrings of the music, he meant to call to her, then stopped dead when he spotted her.
On her knees in front of the herb seedlings, she bent over and reached outward for a weed. She had discarded her overdress. Her scarlet hair was unbound and willowing behind her in the slight breeze. Clad only in a flimsy shift, one strap spilled over her left shoulder, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of a creamy breast.
A rush of lust tightened his breeches as he hardened painfully. A haze of near madness filled his blood and he realized a desire to toss her onto her back and slake his arousal within her hot cunt.
He shuddered at the vision and fought for control. Wanting to catch her attention so he could state his business and make his exit, he was loath to do so for fear she would see his erection pressing tight against his breeches.
She must have heard him, because she looked up, capturing his gaze. She held the flowering weed in her hand, and lifted it to her nose, her eyes drifting partly closed as she inhaled its sweet fragrance. Then she had the audacity to smile at him! A wickedly sensual upward curving of her lips that made him think of hot nights and long, silken limbs wrapped around his back.
Solara sat back on her heels, as if waiting for him to speak. But he could not find his voice. She hadn't righted the strap of her shift, and in her sitting position the swell of her breast peeked above the top of the garment, her nipples straining against the silken fabric.
Could he die from such a painful erection?
Why didn't she speak? Clearly, he was unable to at the moment. And he feared if he moved he might actually lose his control and ejaculate. His cock throbbed, the sensitive head rubbing against his breeches. Despite his attempts to the contrary, his mind conjured up images of Solara walking over to him, unlacing his breeches and taking his shaft in her heated mouth, then sucking him until he exploded down her throat.
And yet she continued to watch him, her green-eyed gaze focused on his face. She hadn't uttered a word, as if she expected him to make the first move.
"I...I..."
Brilliant. Now he sounded like a lovesick boy who'd just had his first glimpse of a tit and couldn't form a coherent word. The faerie exercised some kind of magic over him, making him unable to utter intelligent words.
"Is there something you're trying to say, Roarke?" She fixed him with an innocent batting of her eyelashes, but clearly the vixen had spellbound him somehow.
Had the mere sight of a half-naked breast caused a total loss of his ability to speak? "I...I have work for you."
"I see. And what is it that you would like me to do for you?"
Suck my cock. Ease this tormenting ache in my balls. Lie down upon the grass and spread your sweet thighs so that I might sheathe myself in you. "There are accounts we need to go over."
"Can it wait? I'm pruning the seedlings."
"Can't someone else do that?"
She huffed and crossed her arms. "You were the one who told me that I should see to the seedlings myself."
"Oh. I did, didn't I?" Now he sounded like an imbecile. "Very well, then. I shall go over the accounts myself."
He should turn and walk away. Their conversation was over. But she looked so delectable sitting there on the ground, her scarlet wings combating for wild color with the fierce green grass, he stood rooted to the spot.
Solara shrugged and turned her attention to the seedlings and dirt. "You do that. I still have much to do. First I must finish up here, see to the evening meal, check on Noele, and then I feel in need of a bath."
Truly he was about to turn away, but the mere mention of her bathing conjured up those blasted images in his head again. He coughed to clear the dry lump in his throat. "I see. Well, I will take my leave of you now."
"Very well."
She didn't even look up at him. He walked away, feeling for all the world like he'd just been spurned by a woman whose attentions he sought.
This entire charade grew more ridiculous by the second.
He had work to do. Yes, work would occupy his mind.
And he would not think about her bathing!
\*
Solara smiled as she watched Roarke stomp away, supremely satisfied by his discomfort.
He'd left his emotions unguarded, and she felt every tantalizing moment of his frustration as he'd watched her. His desire matched her own, his need as fierce and uncontrollable as hers.
Touching his emotions was dangerous. She knew she should not pry into his mind, into his soul, and yet the opening he'd left surprised her. Like an irresistible temptation, she felt compelled to seek out the truth.
Yes, he'd hidden his desires quite well, at least internally. But the hard evidence of it could not be hidden from her. One look at his erection had her mouth going dry, her nipples beading against the thin material of her shift. Moisture gathered between her legs and she fought to keep her hand from straying there to massage the ever-growing ache.
An ache she would have to relieve herself, despite her wish to take Roarke's hand, place it on the curls of her sex and beg him to release her from the torment.
With a sigh, she realized this game she played would have more than one victim. Yes, she would teach Roarke a lesson, but she would also painfully face the same realizations as he.
But she vowed to continue, a plan for tonight already forming in her mind. She had seen the way his eyes darkened when she mentioned bathing this eve, and she would make sure that he was in a position to watch her.
It may agonize them both in the process, but she'd show him that he had much to lose, the least of which was his damnable honor!
Roarke had endured quite enough from the faerie vixen today. First the episode in the garden, then at the evening meal. She had spent time with one of his guards, clearly amused at everything the man said.
His blood boiled, roaring in his ears every time her lilting laugh sailed across the hall. She tormented him on purpose, he knew it.
And the guard who dared openly flirt with a woman betrothed to a king would find himself demoted and shoveling horse shit tomorrow.
Tired of the ridiculous display, he had left immediately after eating, determined to spend the remainder of the night in his chambers. Once there, he was unable to relax, pacing back and forth within the confines of the small room until he drove himself mad.
If he wanted to, there were many women who would be more than happy to slake his lust. Not one to go long without female companionship, he had always been able to find a willing woman to spend a night with.
Or he used to. Since he met Solara, the thought of being with another woman did not appeal to him. He had not lain with a woman in months.
With a disgusted curse, he left the chambers, determined to forget all about Solara by visiting the pub and getting soundly drunk.
He sat with a few of the guards, listening to their ribald stories of the latest wench they had tumbled, refusing to think of a certain wench he could have had on multiple occasions and yet foolishly walked away.
Goblet after goblet of mead dulled the sharp ache inside him, yet his thoughts still focused on a scarlet-haired faerie with golden green eyes and creamy breasts that fit perfectly in the palm of his hand.
'Twas unfortunate the liquor did not quell the ache in his balls. Instead, it only served to fire up his libido, making him want to go in search of the woman who haunted his dreams.
And that he refused to do. He left the pub, determined to avoid the bathing area. Yet before he knew it, he found himself exactly where he swore he wouldn't go.
The room was quiet and dark. Perhaps Solara had already left.
He shouldn't be in there, he reminded himself as he entered the small chamber. Warm, humid air greeted his entrance, yet he heard no sounds. He should be happy she wasn't there. Running into Solara here could only lead to trouble. And with every day that passed, he found it more and more difficult to avoid his desires.
The bathing chamber was little more than a small room at the end of an enclosed wooden building. The walls had been put up to afford privacy, yet many times entire families bathed together.
This summer had been so intensely warm, most had taken to bathing in the outdoor chamber, but he did not figure Solara would want to be outside. Yet she wasn't in the enclosed room, so he took a chance and walked through the doorway leading to the open bath.
He blinked once, then twice, certain the vision before him was due to too much mead and not enough food at the evening meal. Solara sat in the round wooden tub, the full moon's rays shooting down and surrounding her in an ethereal, silvery light. She was alone, completely secluded by the tall, stone enclosure that kept the eyes of the villagers away, but allowed the bath to be open to the stars above. Her body appeared gossamer as she stood, her back turned to him. Rivulets of water streamed down her back, her wings folded inside her, affording him a glimpse of her perfectly formed body.
Had he ever seen her completely nude? No, he'd been close to her, had touched her, yet he'd never had the opportunity to view her body from afar.
Roarke forgot to breathe. Slender shoulders led to a waist that dipped in nicely, reminding him of the feel of his hands spanning her slender form. Her full, lush hips and rounded buttocks were made for a man's hands. Shapely thighs led to very long legs. Legs he wanted wrapped tight around him.
His cock rose and strained against his breeches. How simple it would be to strip, slide into the tub with her and quench his lust within her hot pussy. He wanted it, she wanted it, yet his damned honor and allegiance to Garick prevented him from taking what was so willingly offered.
For the millionth time, he reminded himself that Solara belonged to another man. And that kind of vow he could not breach.
She bent over to retrieve a cloth from the water, and he sucked in a breath at the sight of her pussy so clearly outlined between her buttocks. An urge to bury his lips between her legs and lick the creamy juices from her cunt had his knees quaking. He let out a sigh borne of the frustration of the past week.
This was more than one man should have to bear.
Solara must have heard him, because she turned, holding the long cloth against her body. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of him leaning against the doorway.
Now would be a good time for him to leave. He'd gotten what he came for. He had seen her. And yet something compelled him to stay. Perhaps Solara's lack of protest, perhaps his own weakness where she was concerned.
Her lips curved into a sensual smile as she took the cloth and dipped it into the water. She raised it high and squeezed it over her breasts so that the water ran down over her belly and between her legs. Droplets fell from the thatch of hair on her sex.
Nipples that glowed a silvery rose in the moonlight hardened to sharp points. She rubbed the cloth over first one breast, then the other, caressing her body the way he wanted to. Her tongue snaked out and ran over her bottom lip before slipping back inside her mouth.
And still, her gaze remained fixed on him.
Like a seductive dance, she touched herself the way a lover would touch her, lightly tracing the swell of her breasts before teasing the upthrusting nipples with her fingers. She rolled the buds in between her thumb and forefinger, her mouth opening as a gasp of pleasure escaped.
Roarke opened his mouth too, licking his lips like a man thirsting for drink. The drink he was desperate for stood before him, drenched in bath water and weaving a torturous spell over him.
When her hands moved from her breasts to her sex, petting the curls at the juncture of her thighs, he let out a groan.
"Touch yourself, Roarke," she whispered, her voice husky and thick as the night surrounding them. She dipped her fingers alongside her inner thighs, hovering near her clit. "I will not ask you to come near me, nor to touch me, but I wish to see your release."
He should walk away, now, before he lost control completely. Yet her bold request compelled him, and he could not move his feet.
No, he would not touch her, would not have her in the way he wanted to, but he would obtain the release he so desperately needed. He moved his hand down and palmed his erection.
Solara arched a brow and fixed her gaze on his breeches. Knowing she watched made him harder, his balls tightening high against his body. He caressed his cock, loving the way she licked her lips, knowing by the flushing of her body that she was as aroused as he, and wishing to all the magical gods in the universe that their destinies were entwined.
But wishing would not make it so. This brief interlude with Solara would have to be enough to sustain him.
"Let me see your cock," she said, her voice shaky, her fingers disappearing into the nest of curls between her legs. He pushed away from the wall and approached her, wanting her to see, needing to see her, knowing he had to be closer as he watched her pleasure herself.
She let out a low whimper and spread her legs wider, affording him a glimpse of her distended clit. The lips of her pussy were swollen. Stopping at the edge of the tub, he squeezed his shaft, rewarded with her gasp. Mere inches separated them. Her panting breath sailed across his cheek. He had only to reach out and he would be able to caress her skin, take her mouth, brand her as his.
But he didn't.
Not taking his eyes off her questing fingers, he unlaced his breeches and took out his cock, slowly stroking it from base to tip. She watched the movements of his hand, her own keeping time to the rhythm he set.
When she dipped one slender finger into her swollen cunt, his breath caught and held. The sheer erotic pleasure of watching her touch herself nearly caused him to spill his seed. But he held back, wanting to let go at the exact moment she reached the pinnacle.
"Your cock is strong. Long, thick, pulsing with life. It was so big I could barely fit it into my mouth the first time. Do you remember that first time we touched, Roarke?"
How could he forget anything about this faerie? She was everything he had ever wanted in a mate. "Yes."
"Your tongue is soft and warm. I've never come as hard as I did when you licked me. Now, at night when I'm lying in my bed, I touch myself, visions of your tongue licking my pussy driving me to climax over and over again."
A groan escaped his lips before he could hold it back. His grip on his shaft tightened and he thrust it through his hand until just the tip appeared above his enclosed fist. A drop of pre-come spilled from the head, and he moved to swipe it off, reaching his hand out toward Solara.
As he knew she would, she leaned over and licked the fluid off his finger. His cock jerked and throbbed, his balls tight.
Foolish to get so close to her, yet Roarke could not stop himself. He inhaled and caught her sweet scent, a mixture of roses and the heady musk of aroused female.
"What do you dream of at night, Roarke? Do you think about me? In your mind, do you see me naked like this, touching myself like this?"
Yes, he dreamed this, and so much more. "I dream of taking you, making you mine, entering you and taking your virginity so that no other man can ever have you."
Her eyes blazed hot, her panting increased as she slipped two fingers inside her pussy. Clearly outlined in the well-lit night, her juices glistened on her fingers when she withdrew.
"Taste me, Roarke. Taste my need for you."
She held out her hand. Without hesitation, he took her fingers in his mouth, sucking the nectar from them. The taste of her desire flamed his senses. He licked at her fingers as if he had her pussy in his mouth, all the while thrusting his hips forward to propel his cock through his enclosed hand.
"Yes," she whispered. "Lick my fingers like you want to lick my cunt. Taste me, take me with you, Roarke. Make me come so hard I scream."
He wanted all that, and more. While arousing to the point of insanity, this play wasn't nearly enough to satisfy him. Yet with every passing second the head of his cock swelled, his balls trembled, and he knew it would not be long.
"Come for me, Solara. Imagine your fingers are my cock. Show me how you want me to fuck you."
He shifted back to allow himself a clear view of her driving fingers, this time setting his rhythm to hers. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, with one hand teasing her clit and the other fucking herself faster and harder. Whimpers and soft mewls escaped her parted lips as she increased the tempo.
Finally, she opened her eyes and met his gaze, and he knew it was time. He let go a torrent of come that splashed across her belly at the same time she stiffened.. Her keening wail filled the night air as she trembled and held her fingers still inside her pussy.
Afterward, their gasps were the only sound that could be heard. Roarke slipped his softening cock into his breeches, then sat on the edge of the tub next to Solara. She removed her fingers and slipped into the water up to her breasts.
Roarke took the floating cloth and moistened it, wiping the fine sheen of sweat from Solara's face and neck. She smiled wistfully at him, and he knew her thoughts mirrored his own.
What they had together was amazing, miraculous, like nothing he'd ever experienced before.
They were fated, meant to be together, and yet were still held apart by his sense of duty and the requirement she honor her betrothal.
This time, he could not walk away from her. Nor could he tell her all that was in his heart. He had already revealed too much.
"I will be leaving soon," she murmured, staring off into the distance.
"Aye. In less than a week, Garick will return and then you will be escorted to Greenbriar."
"I should have gone before. I should not have run off."
She was right, and he knew that. Yet he could not tell her that he was glad she hadn't, that despite the fact he could never have her as he wanted to, he wouldn't trade the few days they'd had together for anything.
"All things happen for a reason, or so your sister tells me."
A soft smile graced her coral lips. "She tells me that, too."
So much was left unsaid between them, but Roarke could not utter the words he wanted to. Instead, he knew he had to continue to put distance between himself and Solara.
"Tomorrow I will ride off on patrol."
Her gaze met his. "I thought you were to stay within Winterland."
"I will be. I will patrol the outer boundaries. It is common for the guard to do so."
"Common for the guard to do so, but not common for you?"
"It is good for me to go with the men."
"How long will you be outside the gates?"
"Three days."
"I see. You do so to avoid me. It is unnecessary. You need only say the word and I would keep my distance."
He knew this would hurt her, yet also knew it was necessary. The more she hated him, the easier her new life would be.
"I do what I must. Not everything has to do with you, Solara."
Her eyes moistened and she turned away, refusing his offered hand as she climbed out of the tub and reached for her shift, tossing it over her head.
After she was dressed she stood in front of him, anger and pain blazing in her eyes. "Some day, Roarke, you will realize that your honor and your duty aren't enough to sustain you. When that day comes, remember what you could have had, because it will be long gone by then."
She turned and walked away, her long, scarlet hair streaming in wet strands down her back.
Roarke stayed seated, watching Solara's departure until she disappeared from sight. He stayed long after the door of the chamber closed with a resounding slam.
He didn't have to wait for someday to know what he could have had. Every moment of every day reminded him that he loved a woman who could never be his.
Roarke led the guards around the base of the castle, inspecting for any weaknesses in the structure. The gray stone wall was solid, and he already knew it.
The ride and guard duty were his way of escaping Solara.
After last night, and the episodes before, he knew he was weakening where she was concerned. That he could not allow. Better to keep his distance, put the wall of the castle between them, until she left.
With every day that passed he grew closer and closer to throwing away all that he believed in. He'd actually contemplated risking banishment or even death. His desire for Solara had become more important than his honor, his vows, his duty to his king.
Keeping his mind and body occupied with tasks such as assessing the castle's strengths and weaknesses was the best thing for both he and Solara.
After all, what would happen to her if he compromised her? She would be shamed, banished, would lose her right to become a queen.
Nay, he would not do that to her. His inner will was strong; he had always been able to rein in his baser impulses. He could do so now.
Today, he would concentrate on his duties.
Clearing his mind, his senses told him something was amiss. A sense of urgency had his muscles tensing, his hand reaching for the hilt of his sword.
Something was happening, and he needed to be on guard for any possibility. With their garrison half depleted due to Garick's sojourn to Greenbriar, he and the remaining men would be the only defense should something occur.
He inhaled, scenting a foul, wicked wind shift. Gazing toward the thick forest, his spine tingled with a sense of foreboding that he could not quell.
That sense had been bombarding him for days, but he'd not recognized it because his mind, his magic, his entire being had been consumed with Solara.
"Keep your eyes open. We are not alone," he whispered to the guards behind him, who in turn passed the message along to the others. Gazing upward at the crenellations of the tower, he motioned to one of the guard. "Head back inside the castle and warn the rest to stand ready at the battlements for possible attack. Move all the people into the keep. Alert the interior guard to man their posts, weapons ready. Make sure no one wanders outside. Have the gate closed behind you as soon as you enter."
The guard nodded and turned his horse toward the drawbridge, quickly riding inside. The gate was pulled up soon after.
Turning his attention back to the trees, Roarke directed half the men to ride out to the edge of the forest with him. The other half were instructed to stay along the castle boundaries in case of attack from the cliffs.
The wizards had been quiet of late, which meant they must have been plotting an attack. Now that the elvin community had become wise to the wizards' magic, whisking away one of their own in the dead of night was no longer possible. If they were going to attack, they'd have to do it physically, head on, by storming the castle.
Knowing this, Winterland was well prepared for what may come. But Roarke would still feel more confident once Garick returned with the other half of the garrison. Having the castle weak in guards made them vulnerable, and that he did not like.
They patrolled the perimeter of the forest, Roarke keeping a keen eye out for anything that moved or made a sound.
The pounding hooves of horses turned his attention to a dust cloud in the distance ahead. He'd been prepared for an attack from the cliffs or the eastern forest, but not one from directly in front of them. Calling out to his guard, they raced to the front of the castle, forming a line with the rest of the garrison.
Orders were shouted to the battlements above them, and men could be seen within the crenellations, bows and arrows made ready.
Everything was in place. Roarke could only pray that everyone inside was as well. As the approaching horses drew near, he could tell they were badly outnumbered.
This attack could end up being a massacre. He feared nothing for his own life, but worried for the people of Winterland. If the garrison were killed, they would have minimal protection inside the walls.
Roarke called forth his magic, telepathically merging with Garick and urging him to hasten his return to Winterland.
Then, because this might be the last time he could do so, he searched and found Solara's thoughts.
Raising his sword in the air, he sent her a goodbye.
\*
The needlepoint dropped from her lap and Solara let out a gasp. "Nay! Do not say goodbye to me!"
Noele looked up at her. "What is wrong?"
"It is Roarke. I must go."
She stood, desperate to run into her bedchambers and peer out the castle windows, but Noele's hand on her wrist stopped her. "Nay, you cannot go there."
"Roarke is in danger!" she cried. "I felt him. He reached out to me to tell me there was an attack."
Noele nodded, the expression on her worried face telling her that she knew already. "Aye, I felt it, too. But putting yourself in danger is not what he wants, Solara. Not right now. You need to bring your magic forth---we all do," she said, looking to Elisa and Mina. "Roarke needs our help now."
Calm down. Force the panic aside. Noele is right. Roarke needs your magic right now, not your fear. She nodded, closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. It began to build within her, gaining strength, filling her with power. Once gathered, she sent every bit of magic she possessed to Roarke.
Their connection was instantaneous. So much that she traveled along with her magic. She merged with Roarke and found herself outside the gates. They were one now, as if she physically lived inside Roarke's body. She saw what he saw, felt what he felt, knew the same sense of hopelessness that he experienced. The battle was fierce and intensifying by the moment. They were outnumbered. They were going to die.
"No!"
She felt hands squeezing hers gently, felt the pull from her sisters to return to the castle, yet she would not leave him. If she could do nothing more, she wanted him to know that he was not alone.
If he needed eyes in the back of his head, she would be those. If he needed strength to wield the sword, she would give him all she had. If he was going to die, she wanted to be with him when it happened.
Wizards surrounded them, evil, twisted caricatures of beings, more skeletal than form. Yet their strength belied their appearance and they thrust with swords heavy enough to slice a man in two.
Roarke's incredible strength of will filled her as he thrust and stabbed a wizard, making a rapid turn to slice through another coming up behind him. She held on to his mind, not distracting him in any way, not letting him know of her worry, but giving him her hope and encouragement.
You will win, Roarke. Your will is stronger than theirs. They are but soulless demons with no heart. Stay strong and do not give up.
If her words penetrated, he did not acknowledge them. Nor did she push further other than to call forth the magic of the faerie, take what her sisters offered, and add to what the elvin people had already delivered to their warriors---their belief that the garrison outside the castle would win the battle they fought.
All around them the sounds of steel clashing with steel resounded in the air.
Arrows rained down as the guards inside sprayed the wizards from the tower battlements. Piercing screams resounded as the arrows penetrated the black hearts of the wizards. Each time one fell, Solara felt a joy she never knew she was capable of. Celebrating death was not in faerie nature, and yet these creatures had been a thorn in the side of the faerie and elvin people for too long now. Murderers, they not only killed and stole lands that did not belong to them, but also the very souls of the elvin and faerie people. The sooner they were all dead, the easier life would be for all of them.
The battle wore on for what seemed like hours. And yet, the longer it went on, the more it seemed as if the garrison had taken the upper hand. Solara sensed when the tide turned as she looked around and found a few of the Winterland guard on the ground, yet many more of the wizards.
They were winning, pushing the demons back toward the forest, advancing as the wizards retreated. She willed her strength even further into Roarke's arm as he hefted the sword above his head and decapitated an approaching wizard.
Soon, the attackers were turning and running into the forest. Leaving their horses behind, their thin, black-clad bodies slipped through the thick trees.
It was over. They were safe. No harm could come to---
A painful burning sensation in her side had Solara doubled over, dropping to her knees on the ground. Her movements mimicked Roarke's. She saw him reach for his side, saw the blood covering his hand as he moved it in front of him, felt his disbelief as he turned and saw a lone wizard with a sword held over his head.
"No!" she screamed in her mind, knowing they were about to die. But one of Roarke's guards caught the wizard from behind, sinking his sword deeply into the creature's back. The wizard screamed an unholy sound, then dropped to the ground in a lifeless heap, the sword landing with a thud on the dirt.
Her heart lodged in her throat, she turned inward toward Roarke. She felt his strength ebb as he fought for consciousness. Dizziness assailed her and she had to squeeze her sisters' hands hard to keep from falling into the darkness.
She opened her eyes and stood, orienting herself to being back in the hall. "Roarke is injured. We must get out there now!"
Without waiting to see if they followed, she ran out, shouting for help along the way. She opened her wings and sailed through the doorway and out into the courtyard, hurrying toward the gate.
The archers who had fought from the battlements inside had already reached the drawbridge and were lowering it by the time she got there. They'd no more dropped it over the moat when she went flying across it, still mentally connected to Roarke, knowing exactly where he was.
Thankfully, he was not too far from the gates. Still on his knees where she had left him mentally, still staring at his blood-soaked hand. Several of his men surrounded him, but parted when she approached. She dropped to the ground as soon as she reached him, sweeping his hair away from his dirt-streaked face. His eyes were filled with pain---dull, nearly lifeless and half-closed. The normal sun-darkened color had left his face, replaced instead by a pallor that made her worry her bottom lip.
"You stayed with me," he whispered.
Solara fought back the tears that threatened to tear her apart. "Of course I did. I could not leave." She moved his hand, taking a thick cloth one of the villagers handed her and pressing it against the wound at his side. Blood flooded the cloth immediately and she replaced it with another, pressing hard despite his wince of pain.
"You shouldn't have seen all this. Blood, carnage, death..."
"Shhh," she whispered. "I did not fear what I saw. You needed all our magic to defeat the wizards. You and your men performed admirably."
Roarke offered a half-smile, then reached his blood-soaked hand out to caress her cheek. "Thank you, my faerie. You gave me strength."
Before she could respond, he crumpled against her and passed out.
Roarke's men picked him up and carried him inside, depositing him on the bed in his chambers.
She pushed the physician aside, wanting no one to care for him but herself. She was more knowledgeable about medicines and herbs than the man who doubled as the castle's barber.
Thankful for the medicinal lessons she had received from her mother, she immediately stripped off Roarke's battle gear and tunic, then his boots and breeches. Isolde and Noele stayed with her, helping to remove his clothes.
Neither said a word about Solara being in the room while Roarke was completely undressed. If they had, she would still have refused to leave. They did not know that she had seen all of him, and at this point it did not matter what anyone knew. The only thing that mattered was stopping the flow of blood before Roarke died.
Already it had soaked the cloths underneath him. If possible, he was even more pale now than he had been on the battlefield, his face as ghastly white as the wizards he had fought.
Solara cleaned the wound, a long gash at his side which bled much, but did not appear to be too deep.
"It does not appear that any of his organs were affected," she said, cleaning inside the cut. "But he has lost much blood."
Isolde sewed the wound closed, then Solara applied medicinal herbs, covering it with a clean cloth. At least the blood had stopped flowing now.
"All we can do is wait and see how he recovers. If the wizards poisoned their swords, infection could set in."
Noele voiced what Solara knew to be true. "We can only pray that such is not the case."
"He needs rest, Solara, as do you," Noele said, placing her hand on Solara's shoulder.
After securing the bandage with strips of cloth, she pulled the covers over Roarke, then turned to Noele. "I need no rest. I am not the one who fought a battle and was wounded."
"You expended much of your energy propelling yourself into his mind as you did. Giving up your strength, your magic, is exhausting."
Solara smiled at Noele. "You are the one who should be resting. Garick will have my head if something happens to you or the babe."
"There is nothing wrong with me. I am as fit as can be and have more than enough energy for both me and the baby."
Solara frowned. "I thought you were ill."
Noele's eyes widened. Isolde coughed and turned away.
"What I meant was, I'm feeling much better now. I believe the worst of the initial illness is over."
Something wasn't right, but Solara did not have time to ponder. "Either way, you need your rest, and Isolde is needed to watch over you. Go. See to the others who have been wounded. I will sit here with Roarke awhile, and then I promise to rest."
After Noele and Isolde left, she sat on the bed next to Roarke, constantly feeling his head to check for signs of fever. He slept soundly, not even moving once all through the night.
Solara did not sleep, nor did she leave his side. She could not, would not, until she was certain he would recover. Part of her wished he would awaken, yet the logical part of her knew that while he slept, he healed. As long as his skin remained cool to the touch, he would be fine.
If only she believed her own thoughts.
What would she do if Roarke didn't recover? No, she refused to think about that possibility. She stood and paced his bed, watching for any signs of flushed skin or delirium. Clutching her arms around her middle, she pondered all that had happened between them.
There was no doubt that, physically, she wanted him. He called to her in ways she was convinced no other man would be able to. But there was more than that. His honor, his sense of duty and loyalty, the way he cared for her. All of those things made him the man she...
Loved.
The word she had tried so hard not to think about stood front and center in her mind. And because she loved him she had been blinded to his need to see to his duty. She had asked him to sacrifice his honor for her. She sat on the bed and held his hand.
"Oh Roarke," she whispered, "What have I done? I have given my heart to you, my very soul, and look at the havoc it has created. How can I say I love you and at the same time put you through such torment?"
Isolde brought her food late in the evening, but she felt no hunger.
How could she feel anything but guilt? If it were not for her and her insistence on tormenting Roarke, he would not have felt it necessary to leave the castle grounds and patrol. She had literally driven him from the safety of Winterland in an effort to flee from her and her foolish seduction.
The wizards had obviously been waiting for an opportunity to attack, and because of her the garrison had been left vulnerable. They had lost six men today, not a very large amount considering the number of wizards that had attacked, yet six men lost their lives who shouldn't have.
All because of her childish notions of love and desire.
If she had left Roarke alone and stayed committed to her fate to marry Braedon, he wouldn't be near death right now.
Nay, she would not leave his side until she atoned for the sins she had committed.
She would not leave until Roarke was awake, for she had much to tell him.
Roarke's eyes would not open. He fought, willing them to open, yet his struggle was for naught.
'Twas as if something pressed down on his entire body, a heavy weight that prevented him from moving his limbs.
He could still see, although the visions were distorted.
Sweeping colors of the sky. A meadow, a rainbow of sensual delights surrounding him, yet he could not lift his arm and touch that one elusive thing he wanted more than anything.
Solara.
She stood in the middle of a field of green, dressed all in white. Riotous colors spread out like a carpet of flowers at her feet. Yellows, purples, blues, like a sudden burst of springtime. Solara's feet were bare, her wings spread wide, hair unbound and flowing to her waist. Her golden green eyes gazed directly at him, dark lashes fluttering against her cheek as she blinked.
Her smile was warm and welcoming.
"Come to me, Roarke. I need you."
He started to move, but could not, the endless weight holding him back. Opening his mouth to speak, he found no sound forthcoming, despite the shouting of his voice in his own mind.
Solara frowned. "Roarke, why do you tease me so? Can you not see how much I want you? How much I need you? Please, come to me now." She spread her arms, beckoning him to her.
And still, the heaviness upon him held him at bay. He struggled mightily, but found he had no strength left in his body. So he touched her the only way he could---with his mind.
"I cannot come to you Solara. Something binds me."
"I need you Roarke. Please, before it is too late for us."
Too late? How could it ever be too late? From the moment he first saw her, he knew in his heart that she was his fate, that she was meant to be his. And yet an invisible wall kept them apart, preventing him from reaching out to her.
Frustration mounted, building with every passing moment. She was so close, and yet 'twas as if she stood miles away.
Now her eyes filled with moisture, tears streaking her face. Her bottom lip trembled as she pleaded with him. "Roarke, I do not have much time. You must come to me now, or we will never be."
Hopelessness filled every part of his being as he fought against the invisible bonds. "I cannot, Solara. Something keeps me from you."
She began to fade right in front of his eyes. The colors surrounding her muted, becoming hazy, brown, lifeless. Her white sheath turned black, her hair disappeared, her skin sinking into itself.
"It is too late for us Roarke. You should have come to me sooner. I must go."
"No! Wait!" He fought until his skin burned from the struggle. But as he did so, a part of him knew his efforts were for naught. She was nearly gone, no more than a shimmering cloud.
"Too late for us, my love. It is too late. You waited too long." Even her voice had lost its melodic beauty, her tone flat, sadness evident in every word.
He was a fool! He should have tried harder, done something, anything to break the bonds so he could reach her.
And now she would never be his.
Solara was gone.
\*
Solara wiped the cool cloth over Roarke's feverish brow, her heart wrenching at the sound of his incoherent mumblings.
The fever had started early this morning. She had left him for only a moment to bathe and eat, and when she had returned, Isolde had told her that Roarke had worsened.
Not many survived the fever of the wizards. A poison in the blood, it spread quickly.
There was no known cure. No herbs, no medicines, nothing would help. Nothing but prayer and hope that Roarke was strong enough to withstand the effects of the toxin trying to destroy him.
For hours he had battled, his body shaking uncontrollably, nearly unintelligible words spilling from his lips. She had held him down when the convulsions threatened to send him catapulting off the bed, finally having to resort to magic to hold him still so he would not injure himself.
She kept his skin moist and cool with frequent bathing. Noele and Isolde stopped in frequently, but they knew as well as Solara did that there was nothing that could be done for him. He would either live or die, and they could not control what would happen.
"Witch," he mumbled. "You left me, faerie. You left me when I needed you. Do not go. Do not leave me."
His words made no sense. Witch? Faerie? She did not know of whom he spoke.
Until he said her name. "Solara, I cannot come to you. I have tried, but it holds me back."
She forgot to breathe as the anguishing pain in his words squeezed her heart. "Roarke, I am here."
He shook his head vehemently. "You are gone. I have lost you. I cannot come to you. I cannot."
Bathing his fevered face and neck, she whispered against his ear. "Roarke, do not fight it so. You need to rest, you need your strength."
"I have no strength. I have nothing. I could have...I almost took that which was not mine to have. My honor...'tis nothing without your love. But I have duty. Must not..."
His words faded again. Yet Solara knew what pained him.
It was her. He struggled within himself, wanting her and knowing he could not have her.
She caused his pain, both physically and emotionally. Her selfishness in wanting something she could not have, had brought Roarke to this state.
And now he might die. None of this should have happened, would have happened, if she had done what she was destined to do.
"Roarke, listen to me." She grabbed his shoulders, closed her eyes and entered his world. She took the risk to herself, knowing that giving him a vital part of her magic might well save his life while destroying hers.
Yet she had to do it.
'Twas like entering the gates of hell. Fire greeted her, the licking flames attempting to hold her back. Undaunted, she walked through the inferno. Roarke stood there, naked and glorious like some kind of god. He looked around as if he were lost. Then he saw her, and smiled.
"I have been looking for you, faerie," he said, his voice hot, husky with desire. His cock sprang to life, engorging, lengthening.
"You have found me, Roarke."
"Come to me."
She stepped forward, mindless of the blaze burning around them, unable to feel any other heat except the flame of his need for her.
He did not know he existed in a dream state, and she would not tell him. When he woke, when he was healed, he would know what had happened. But now, she would let him believe that they were together, that this was reality.
His naked skin scalded her when he pulled her against him. "I have waited a lifetime to touch you, to have you in my arms."
Her breath was lost as her heart pounded against her breast. "As have I. I am yours now, Roarke. I have always been yours. I always will be. No other will have my heart."
She knew that later he would recall what was said and done here in this magical state, yet she wanted him to know. After she was gone, she wanted him to remember that she had given him her heart.
"And remember, when you are far away, that my heart will be with you. I should not tell you this, but I cannot help myself. You are mine, Solara of D'Naath. You have been from the moment I greeted you."
She squeezed her eyes shut in the hopes that he wouldn't see her tears. Yet his thumb brushed her cheek, swiping away the one drop that escaped. When she opened them, she saw him smiling down at her.
"I might not live through this. I need you, Solara."
He knew where he was. She should have realized his force of will would push past the fantasy in his mind and accept that they could only touch within the boundaries of this dream.
Refusing to think beyond this moment, beyond this time when he still had the strength left to give her his thoughts, she touched her finger to his lips. "We will not speak of what may be, only what is now."
"Then let me love you now. The way I have wanted to for so long."
His mouth met hers and he gathered her close, wrapping his arms around her waist. His tongue grazed the seam of her lips and slipped inside, finding hers and gently stroking until she whimpered her need for him.
What started out a gentle kiss intensified. Roarke's fingers dug into her hips as if he were marking her as his own. His mouth seared her lips, her throat, blazing a hot trail over her shoulder.
There was not air enough to fill her lungs. His passion overwhelmed her, and yet matched her fervent desire for him. He moved his hands over her waist, her ribs, cupping her breasts and grazing her nipples with his thumbs.
"Yes, touch me, Roarke. I need your hands, your mouth on me. Everywhere."
Desperation tinged her every word. She did not know if she had the magic to heal him, but would give up everything to ensure his safe return to health. In merging with him here, she would forever lose some of her power, and yet she willingly gave it up to him.
"I need to be inside you, my faerie. We've waited too long already."
"Aye. Hurry."
He laid her on the soft ground of the misty darkness, warmth enveloping her as he pulled her legs apart and settled between them. Tension knotted the muscles of his arms and she squeezed them, reveling in the feel of his strength.
A sense of urgency surged within her. She fed off Roarke's hunger, knowing they did not need slow caresses or gentle play. Her pussy was moist, opening and inviting him to enter. She was ready now.
She reached for his shaft, its life pulse surging against her hand. He let loose a groan as she stroked him, pulling him towards her cunt, lifting her hips in a wordless sign of her desire.
No, this was not real, and yet it would feel the same as if they were actually making love. This would be her only chance to bring him inside her, to become one with him, and she wanted the memory to hold onto almost as much as she wanted to heal him.
She guided him to her entrance and removed her hand. Roarke took over, leaning over her, moving forward, the tip of his shaft brushing her slit. Her juices poured from her, the small quakes inside her only the beginning of what she knew would be a magical journey.
"Now, Roarke, please."
"Aye, faerie. Now." With one quick thrust he embedded himself within her, so deeply she felt him in her womb. She cried out and wrapped her legs around him, holding him close. Her body surrounded him, squeezing his rigid length.
Solara focused on his face and opened herself up, letting her magic and her love pour into him.
He shuddered over her, rocking back and forth. With every thrust she tightened more around him until he let loose a groan.
She felt his strength begin to grow as he drove into her over and over, taking what she willingly offered. Afterwards she would be weakened, but now she drew on his growing power, giving back what he gave.
Faster and harder he thrust within her until she shrieked her pleasure. A part of her mind begged for reality, but this would be all she would have. She pulled Roarke closer, wanting to feel every inch of his body against her sweat-soaked skin. She caressed his arms, his shoulders, drawing his head down to her mouth to capture his lips in a kiss that bound them forever.
"Come for me, faerie," he said through clenched teeth. "Come on me. I want to feel your nectar pour over my cock."
His control was admirable, yet she did not require it. She had held on only long enough to restore him, but now she could not hold back the torrent. Gripping his back, raking her nails along his skin, she cried out as the pinnacle reached her, lifting her hips so he could drive hard into her one last time before letting out a deep cry and pouring his seed inside her.
They stayed within each other's arms for as long as the magic allowed. When she felt the connection breaking, she gazed deeply into his eyes, memorizing every line, every feature, knowing she would never be this close to him again.
The words she wanted to say would have to stay within her. She would not pain him more than she already had. With a feather light touch of her lips against his, she broke the connection, finding herself lying next to him on the bed.
She felt his head, pleased to find his temperature had broken and his skin was moist and cool.
The magic had worked. Exhaustion overcame her, and she went in search of Isolde, asking her to sit with Roarke. She entered her chambers and climbed into bed, so weak she could barely pull the coverlet over herself.
Part of her magic was now forever inside the man she loved. Perhaps it wasn't what she had most wanted to give him, and yet it would have to do. He would recover now, and she took some satisfaction in knowing that she had helped.
For the first time in days, sleep overtook her.
Roarke healed much faster than even he anticipated.
Much of that, he knew, was because of Solara. He felt the magic of her that she had left within him while he was feverish, remembered every moment that she shared herself with him.
He survived the attack because of her unselfish giving of her magic to him. That had cost her dearly, something she would never be able to retrieve. And yet he would not reveal to others what she had given away.
He only wished he could give something back to her.
Since he awoke the day before, he had not seen her. Surprisingly, the wound at his side was nearly healed, and he did not require any time to rest. 'Twas if he had gone to sleep whole and had awoken in the same state.
Resuming his duties immediately, he had stayed busy, not once seeking out Solara., knowing she needed time to rest. And yet he missed her smile, missed seeing her at meals, missed working with her. Stars, he even missed arguing with her!
For two days he had allowed her time to recover. Now, he wanted to find her, to thank her for what she had done.
Soon, Garick and Trista would return from Greenbriar, and Solara would be leaving. He had to see her one last time before she left, had to tell her what her gift meant to him.
Dawn cast a magnificent glow over the day. Rolling clouds tinged with pink strolled slowly over the castle. Roarke dressed, hurrying so that he could find Solara.
A knock came just as he finished fastening his tunic. He opened the door, surprised to find Solara standing there.
Each time he gazed upon her his heart pounded. Her hair was pulled back from her face, her eyes widening as she looked at him.
"You look well, Roarke," she whispered.
He motioned her inside and shut the door. "Thank you. I feel quite fine."
"I am glad." She wrung her hands together, her back turned to him.
He felt awkward, did not know what to say. But he had to begin somewhere, had to tell her what her gift meant to him. "I was going to find you this morning, to tell you---"
Before he could finish she turned around. "I will not see you again before I leave."
Roarke frowned. "What do you mean?"
"What happened to you out there...everything that happened, was my fault."
"No, Solara, 'twas not your---"
"Let me finish, please. Yes, 'twas my fault entirely. I behaved foolishly. I should have left for Greenbriar when it was my time. Instead, I thought...well, it does not matter now what I thought. The truth is I have been playing a terrible game with your affections. One that was not mine to play. I drove you through the castle gates and put you and the other men in harm's way."
She was wrong. He did nothing that he did not want to do. He had to tell her. "Solara."
But she held up her hand. "Please, Roarke. I came to tell you that I will no longer come to you, will no longer tease and torment you with something we both want but know we cannot have. I have much to do to prepare for my departure in a few days, and I will stay out of your way. You need not worry that I will say or do anything to embarrass you or cause you to dishonor yourself. I will do my duty to my people. I will marry Braedon of Greenbriar."
The words he wanted to say to her did not come. She was right. They had to stay apart He knew it, but it left a bitter taste in his mouth. "Thank you for saving my life."
"'Twas the least I could do. Now, if you will excuse me, I have duties to attend to."
She turned away and hurried out the door before he could say anything more.
Truly, what would he have said? Despite his assurances to her that he had done what he wanted to do, he knew that they had both been at fault. It was time he realized it, for she certainly had. And yet he had wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her that she did nothing wrong, that the fault had been his.
This is what he had wanted all along. Distance between him and Solara, her promise that she would do nothing to compromise the vows they both held dear.
And yet, now that she had affirmed what he himself believed in, his heart clenched painfully in his chest. He would no longer see her, no longer touch her.
Damn the stars! This was not what he wanted at all!
Noele watched Roarke and Solara avoid each other, and wondered what had happened to cause the rift between them.
They belonged together. She knew it as surely as she knew her own destiny lay with Garick. 'Twas simply good fortune that had led her to love with her own husband.
But for Solara and Roarke, such was not the case. Yet the visions persisted, still too murky to make out, more like a feeling, a certainty that Solara's fate was not tied with Braedon of Greenbriar, but rather with Roarke.
It would seem the two of them could not come to that same realization on their own. Perhaps they needed a little more pushing in the right direction.
As Roarke went about his duties in one part of the castle, Solara went in another. Deciding to put an end to their separation, she began with Roarke, following him to Garick's office.
"I would speak with you alone," she said, closing the door behind her.
She should not interfere, yet something told her that Roarke and Solara would not find their happiness without her help. She sat down with him on a long sofa and took his hands in hers. She smiled as she felt part of Solara's magic within him. She knew her sister had brought Roarke back from near-death, which only convinced her even more that her sister and this elvin warrior shared the same fate.
"Is there something wrong, my queen?"
"Nay. I wish to speak with you about Solara."
His brows knit together. "What of her?"
"Tell me how you feel about her."
Roarke drew his hands from hers and stood, his eyes widening. "I feel nothing for her!"
Noele laughed. "You forget we are linked together. I know exactly how you feel, despite your attempts to hide your emotions. You love my sister."
"I do not."
"You do. Admit it, if not to her, then at least to me. 'Tis no crime to admit you love someone, Roarke."
His shoulders slumped and he sat back down, studying her face. Finally, with a long sigh, he nodded. "Aye, I love her."
Warmth filled her at the thought of the happiness her sister could have with Roarke. "What are you going to do about it?"
He turned his head and looked at her as if she had gone daft. "Do about it? Nothing. What can I do? She belongs to another."
"Do not be so certain of that fact. Sometimes our destiny is clouded and may not actually lead down the prepared path."
"She is betrothed to a king. She is a princess of D'Naath. You know the customs."
"Aye, I know. I also know those customs can be circumvented."
His eyes widened. "You would have me dishonor my king, your husband?"
His duty to Garick was admirable, but Noele refused to allow that to alter the course of his destiny. "Of course not. It is not a dishonor to love someone, Roarke."
"'Twould be for me. To take what is not mine is an unforgivable offense."
"But what if she is yours? What if you two are fated? Would you walk away from that?"
"If I were a king and she was betrothed to me, I would never let her go. But I am no king and she is not mine."
"Tell me, Roarke. What does your future hold?"
"I know nothing of the future. My powers do not include the foretelling of what is yet to be, and neither do yours."
Actually, her powers told her some of the future. The rest was obvious. "True enough. But envision your future. What do you see?"
He paused and looked straight ahead, as if the colorful tapestry on the wall would reveal his fate. "I see myself doing what I do now. Protecting Winterland, and serving you and Garick."
"Beyond that. To a wife, children, a family of your own. What do you see?"
"I see nothing like that."
"What if you could have those things? Who would you see then?"
"Solara."
He had said it so easily. "Then what stops you? Solara does not wish to marry Braedon. Petition Garick for the right to ask for her."
"I will not. 'Tis important to all our kingdoms for Braedon to marry a D'Naath princess."
"Solara is not the one for him."
"You know this to be a fact?"
"I feel it."
Roarke stood and walked to the window. "What you feel has no bearing on what is. Feelings are nothing more than foolish wishes."
Men were so stubborn sometimes. Roarke reminded her of Garick. Once his mind was set on something, 'twas difficult to change it. She stood and walked to him, stopping behind him to lay her hand upon his shoulder. "Roarke, love is never foolish. If you want Solara, then tell her. Fate will find a way."
"'Tis too late. She will leave soon."
She turned him around to face her. In so many ways, she loved Roarke. Not with the same all-consuming passion she felt for Garick, but a fondness that came from being linked to his soul. Caressing his cheek, she smiled. "No, 'tis not too late. Listen to your heart for once instead of your head. 'Tis your heart that will lead you to your fate."
\*
Roarke thought of nothing else but his conversation with Noele. Had he been wrong in allowing custom to rule his actions? Was he possibly walking away from his own destiny by letting Solara go?
What would happen if he claimed her for his own?
No. They were not meant to be together. Even Solara admitted that her fate was with Braedon. He would not interfere.
Scrubbing his hand over the back of his neck, Roarke stood and paced his chambers, tired of battling the demons that cursed him. The sun had long ago set on what had been a terminally long day. The castle was quiet, and he had been the last one about, finally giving in and entering his lonely bedchamber.
All day he had watched and waited for Solara, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, and yet she had remained true to her word and had not crossed his path. He ached to see the bright smile on her full lips, the way her eyes twinkled like the sun flitting through the leaves of the trees, the sexy way she moved that inflamed his desire.
And with those came visions of her lying in the arms of another man. An image that filled him with jealousy.
Hell's damnation. He did love her, and he did not want another man to touch her.
Which begged the question of how far was he willing to go to see that no other man ever had her? Was he willing to give up his honor, his position? Was he willing to change not only his life, but hers?
Roarke had never dishonored himself or a woman before. From the moment he and Garick had been bonded as children, he knew he would always remain faithful to his duty. Could he turn his back on everything he believed in for the chance to love the woman who haunted his every moment?
Noele's words still pounded away at the logic in his head. Should he, for the first time in his life, follow the dictates of his heart?
By all that was magic, he did not know what to do!
\*
Solara shifted in the middle of the bed, then sat up and stared at the only light, that of the moon filtering in through the window. Sleep would not come tonight, she knew it. She drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs.
The night creatures called out through the partially open window, singing a wailing lament that echoed the stirrings in her heart.
She missed Roarke. It had only been a day, and she longed to see his face, gaze upon his magnificent body. Just to be in the same room with him filled her with peace and contentment. Apart, she was only half of a whole.
A strong urge to go to him made her ache all over. But she promised she would not. No matter how difficult it was, she would see it through.
The knob on her door startled her as it rattled. Raw fear crept into her throat, her heart slamming against her ribs. Wizards had not entered the castle since Noele had been abducted. Surely elvin and faerie magic was still able to keep them at bay.
But the door opened with a slight squeak. Thoughts of screaming out occurred to her, but she remained silent, hoping it was only Isolde or one of her sisters. The light streamed in from the window, shining upon her. She had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. Whoever stood at the doorway could see her clearly, yet they were cast in darkness.
"You take the very breath from me, faerie."
"Roarke," she whispered. Instead of calming, her blood pounded, her body trembling at the thought of what reason he would have to be standing in her bedchamber.
The door shut, followed by the sound of the bolt. He had locked them in.
He moved across the room and stopped next to her bed. The moonlight filtered over him. He still wore his breeches, though they were partially unlaced. His shirt lay open, his broad chest and firm abdomen beautiful in the silver light. She clutched the coverlet in her hands to keep from reaching out for him.
Curiosity mixed with an elemental excitement. She was almost afraid to ask him, certain he came here for some other reason than the one she wished. Yet she had to know. One way or the other, she had to know. "Why are you here?"
He waited before answering, as if he struggled with his response. But finally he said, "I can no longer stay away."
It took a moment for his words to make sense. "But I thought---"
"Does not matter what you thought, or what I thought. We are fated, my faerie princess. Or damned. I'm not sure which. All I am certain of is if I don't take you into my arms and make love to you tonight, I will regret it until I die."
Her heart soared with love, knowing what it cost him to be here with her. What would happen after, she did not know. Whatever happened, she would accept the consequences willingly.
She let the sheet fall, baring her body to the waist. Pulling the coverlet aside, she moved over, leaving room for him in her bed.
"Come to me, Roarke. Make me yours."
Roarke paused, waiting for the guilt to wash over him, the sense of hesitancy that had held him back before.
This time, it didn't come. Only a drive to finish what they had started before. Being here with Solara felt right, as if he'd finally found light in a darkened cavern.
She was his freedom, and his heart soared.
Her nipples were already puckered, thrusting outward like the peaks at the top of a mountain, waiting for his hands, his mouth, to claim them.
"This time, there is no dream, there will be no stopping before we consummate. Tell me now that you do not want this, and I will leave."
Without hesitation, she answered. "You know what I want, Roarke. What I've wanted since the first day we met. I want you to make love to me, in every way possible. I am yours for as long as we can be together."
Relief washed over him, as he had feared he was already too late. He slipped off his breeches and shirt, then climbed into the bed, gathering her against him. Her skin was silken, her legs long, her breasts small and perfectly shaped. She was his magic, his fantasy, and the only woman he would ever give his heart to.
"I want to touch you everywhere tonight, kiss you, take you in every way you can imagine, and even some you can't. Are you ready for this, my faerie?"
Her encouraging smile was all he needed to see. He dragged her on top of him, loving the freedom to stroke her back, her buttocks. Her hair spilled over his chest, the scent of her like wild summer roses.
"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever known."
She traced his bottom lip with the tip of her finger. "And you are the most beautiful man my eyes have ever beheld." She nipped at his lip with her teeth, tugging lightly. His cock surged against her pussy, her juices seeping over his balls.
"You are wet. Have you been thinking of me?"
"Aye. I think often of your heavy cock, how hot it feels in my hand, how it pulses in my mouth. Sadly, I have yet to feel it inside me."
Rolling her over onto her back, he grinned down at her. "Oh you will feel me inside you this night, my princess. But not yet."
He captured her mouth and she met his fervor with an equality that never ceased to amaze him. He had been with many women, and yet never one as passionate as Solara. Her breasts brushed his chest, her hardened nipples teasing him. He shifted and took one globe in his mouth, laving the crest with his tongue. She whimpered and moved her hips against him. The scent of her arousal filled his nostrils, and he slipped down between her legs, nestling his nose against her soft, red fur.
"Roarke." She breathed his name in a throaty whisper, winding her hands into his hair to direct him. He let out a low chuckle and took a long swipe of her swollen nether lips. Her nectar was sweet, musky, the scent of her never failing to make his cock pulse with need.
He lapped her juices, alternating tugging on her clit with his mouth and thrusting his tongue deep inside her slit. She bucked off the bed, tearing at his hair and shaking her head from side to side.
"Roarke, please, now," she begged.
He ignored her pleas, swirling his tongue over her sex, taking in the juices pouring from her. When he inserted his finger inside her and captured her clit between his lips, she tensed, cried out and flooded his hand with her climax.
Barely giving her time to catch her breath, he slipped two fingers inside her soaked pussy, gently at first, then harder as she recovered. He watched her face, the way she wrinkled her nose and closed her eyes when she was in the throes of ecstasy. He took her close to the edge again until she was crying out, begging him to fuck her.
He wanted to take her over the cliff so many times tonight that by morning she wouldn't be able to move. He wanted to delay the moment when he plunged inside her, not because he felt any semblance of guilt, but because he wanted to arouse her past the point of reason.
Trouble was, he could not wait. It had been too long already.
"Aye, my princess. Now I will give you what we have both wanted for so long." He rose over her, nudging her legs further apart with his knee and settling against her.
This was the moment, the point at which he could not return things to the way they were. Solara watched him, waiting, not saying a word, as if she knew how much he struggled with his decision.
Only this time there was no hesitation. He knew exactly what he wanted, what he had to have, and nothing would change his mind.
He eased the head of his shaft between her slit, watching the flecks in her green eyes turn a molten gold. He poised, waiting, his cock pulsing as her cunt grabbed onto it, drawing it deeper.
Solara's lips curled into a sensual smile. He leaned down, captured her mouth and plunged inside her, drinking in her gasp. Her legs wrapped around his waist and held tight against his back as her body fit itself around him.
Always and forever, she would be his.
She was so tight, hot, wet, that he feared completion before he even had a chance to move within her. Why had he waited so long for this? Her body was made for his, accommodating his length and width perfectly.
Roarke's eyes drifted shut and he tilted his head back, letting out a sigh. "Ah, yes, this is how I knew it would be."
He moved against her, gently at first, pulling out and sliding deeply inside once again. She began to move with him, lifting her hips and meeting his thrusts until they developed a rhythm, a sweet dance with the only partner he would ever need.
Small sounds escaped Solara's throat. Whimpers, whispered cries of delight, the love song of pleasure that took him ever higher on the climb to fulfillment.
He was lost inside her, this magical faerie that he loved with all his heart. Pleasuring her became as paramount, as necessary as his next breath.
He slipped his hands underneath her, cradling her buttocks and drawing her closer. When he moved, he brushed her sensitive clit, and she moaned into his shoulder, nipping lightly with her teeth, then harder as he thrust deeper.
"Roarke, I cannot...I'm going to..."
Her words trailed off into unintelligible comments. But he knew. She did not have to speak the words for him to know what was happening. Her cunt tightened around him, squeezing, coaxing the seed from his knotted balls. She let out a keening wail as her climax washed over her. He took her mouth, driving his tongue inside in the same way he drove his cock into her pussy. With a groan against her lips, he poured his release into her.
They lay there for awhile afterward, panting, stroking each other's skin, murmuring soft words to each other.
"I do not know what to say," she whispered against his ear.
He leaned back and smiled at her. Her hair was disheveled, a wild array of scarlet spread over the pillow. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen from his deep kisses. Truly, he had never seen anything more erotic in his life.
"There is nothing you need to say, faerie."
"I want to thank you, Roarke. I know that you struggled with this, that you---"
His finger against her lips silenced her. "Nay, do not speak the words. Tonight is only about the two of us. Nothing else exists. And we are not nearly finished yet."
She arched a brow. "Is that so?"
"Aye. I told you that this night I would have you every way imaginable."
Trailing a fingertip around his shoulder, she said, "I can imagine many ways, my elvin warrior."
"Would you care to tell me about them?"
She shook her head and grinned. "Oh no. I am but an inexperienced maid. I will rely upon you to teach me all that there is to know."
He kneeled on the bed and drew her up against him, her breasts flattening against his chest as he crushed her tightly to him. "Then you will not rest tonight, my faerie, as I have much to teach you."
"I do not require any sleep," she said, drawing his face to hers and licking his lips.
He pressed his mouth to hers, reveling in her heated passion. Again his cock stirred, ready to take her. Would he ever tire of this magical faerie? Would he ever survive losing her?
No. That he refused to think about. He turned her away from him and pushed her down until she was on her hands and knees on the bed, then backed away, taking his cock in his hand and stroking it as he admired her backside. Her slit was open to his view, juices seeping from her, and he caressed the swollen tender flesh, drawing some of her nectar onto his fingers, then spreading it between the twin globes of her buttocks.
She gasped, then leaned forward onto her elbows. His breath caught at the sight of her puckered rosette.
"Do you know what I want, Solara?"
Her answer was a panting breath of excitement. "Aye."
He caressed the hole with his moistened fingers, his other hand reaching underneath her to stroke her silken flesh. She shuddered.
"Is this something you do not wish me to do?"
"I want you to possess all of me, Roarke."
Her willingness to accept him astounded him.
"Then relax. I will not hurt you." He caressed the entrance to her ass, then slipped one finger partly inside, waiting for her body to accustom itself to the invasion. All the while he stroked her clit and petted her pussy until she was writhing against his hand.
Her movements drove him to the brink. If he did not take her soon he would explode. He positioned himself behind her, taking his cock in hand and guiding it to her slit. He teased her pussy, rubbing his cockhead back and forth until she squirmed and cried out. Then he dipped his shaft inside her cunt. She tightened around him immediately, pouring more of her nectar over his cock and balls.
Immediately he withdrew and positioned his shaft at her puckered entrance, slowly forcing it past the tight barrier.
"Tell me to stop at any time and I will."
"Just fuck me Roarke, please."
He laughed, his wicked faerie proving an equal match for his desires. Gently, he pushed the head of his cock further, holding still when Solara gasped.
By all that was magic she was tight! His balls drew up against his body, and he knew he was ready to shoot come deep inside her. But he waited, easing inch by inch deeper inside her until he was buried to the hilt. Then he leaned forward and caressed her clit, moving gently back and forth.
"Stars, Roarke," she cried, backing her buttocks against him as he thrust inside her. Her clit swelled against his questing fingers, her juices running down her legs when he caressed her slit. "Please make me come again."
"Your wish is my command, princess," he murmured, kissing her slender back and driving hard against her buttocks. He increased his movements against her clit, feeling her tense against him.
"Yes, like that!" she cried, his faerie now a fierce wildcat. She arched her back and slammed her ass against him. He met her thrusts with equal fervor, driving so deep his balls slapped against her cunt. She mewled a whimper and tilted her head back, her wild hair tantalizing him. Winding it around his fist, he tugged until she groaned, then rode her hard and fast until she screamed with her climax.
He followed her into the abyss, emptying his seed into her tiny hole, then collapsed on top of her. Rolling off, he pulled her against his chest, sweeping her hair away from her face and kissing the fast-pounding pulse at her throat.
He held her and stroked her, memorizing every inch of her. He knew that no matter what they both wanted, come tomorrow they would separate, never to be together again.
The thought kept him up the remainder of the night. He did not close his eyes until the first light of dawn sent its rays pouring into the bedchamber's window.
"Solara, wake up. Garick is arriving!"
Solara blinked, forcing one eye open, the voice barely registering in her sleep-foggy mind. "What?"
A hand shook her shoulder. She tried to throw it off, but it persisted.
"Solara! Wake up now!"
The voice was louder, finally pulling her into reality. She turned and pushed the hair from her face to see Elise frowning down at her.
"It is midday, lazy faerie. Time to be up! Garick and Trista are returning!"
She quickly looked to the other side of the bed, not surprised and yet disappointed to realize that Roarke was no longer there.
And Garick was returning. Her heart fell, realization dawning that she had spent her last moments of freedom in Roarke's arms, but they would never be together again.
"Aye. Give me a few moments to dress and I will be down."
After Elise left, she climbed out of bed, stretching and releasing her wings. A pleasurable stiffness permeated her muscles, and she allowed a smile, remembering the time she spent with Roarke last night.
Another soreness presented itself between her legs. She was no longer a virgin, having freely given her gift to Roarke.
Tears pooled but she forced them aside, splashing water on her face and brushing her hair back. She dressed and went downstairs, joining the crowds gathering in the courtyard as the drawbridge was lowered.
She searched for Roarke, but did not see him among the assembled guards.
If only he had woken her this morning before he left. She wanted...
What? To hold him one more time, taste his lips upon her own, tell him that she loved him and never wanted to be apart?
What good would any of that have done? 'Twould change nothing of their fate.
She spied Roarke just as the drawbridge was lowered. He rode in with Garick, his face set in a grim line. He must have gone out to greet the king upon seeing his approach.
Garick led the procession, immediately dismounting and reaching for Noele, who stood near the drawbridge. Gathering her close, he pressed a warm kiss upon her lips and held her tight to his side as he motioned for Roarke to follow him. Noele beamed up at her husband, and Solara's heart swelled at the palpable love between the two of them.
The crowds milled about welcoming back the rest of the guards. Amidst all the confusion, she was jostled in the melee and lost sight of Roarke and Garick. And where was Trista? She did not recall seeing her sister ride in.
By the time the crowds had dispersed, she could not find Noele, either. Perhaps she had followed Trista to her bedchamber? Deciding to meet them, she headed up the steps, but stopped short when one of Roarke's captains motioned to her.
"King Garick wishes to speak with you in his office."
A cold dread formed in the pit of her stomach. She wished she could find Noele and Trista. She had a feeling she would need her sisters' support.
She knocked on the door to Garick's office. His gruff reply gave her permission to enter. When she stepped in, Garick's angry face greeted her.
Roarke and Noele were also in the room. Roarke's face was grim and Noele could not even look her in the eye.
They knew. They all knew what had happened.
Panic addled her mind and she could not think. She forced herself to clear her head, for the one thing she knew for certain was that Roarke would not suffer because of this. She would not let him lose his honor, knowing how much it meant to him, nor did she wish to be the cause of altering his standing with his king.
"Come in Solara. Be seated. I need to have a word with you."
What could she do to stop this before it happened? How could she make Garick understand that none of this was Roarke's doing?
"I need to speak with you, Garick. Alone, if I may."
Garick cast her a puzzled look, then shook his head. "Not right now. I have something important to discuss with all of you."
"This is important too, Garick."
Noele moved to her side. "Not now, Solara," she whispered, taking her hand and squeezing it gently.
Roarke looked at her and shook his head. He knew she wanted to say something about the two of them.
This could not wait! She had to find a way to speak. Could she defy a king to be heard?
"This is about Trista."
Garick's statement stopped her panicked thoughts. "Trista? Where is she?"
"If you'll sit down, I will explain to you what happened at Greenbriar."
His words filled her with dread. She sat in the chair and reached for Noele's hand, a sense of foreboding make her shiver.
"Upon our arrival in Greenbriar, Trista asked for Solara to be released from her betrothal to Braedon."
"She did what?" Solara could not believe she heard Garick right. "Why would she do that?"
"Because it's Trista, and she has her own mind about things. You and I know how she is, Solara."
Noele was right. Trista always had a scheme, but for her to be bold enough to ask the southern king to release her was unthinkable. She could only imagine Braedon's reaction.
"So? Are you going to keep us in suspense or are you going to tell us what happened?" Noele asked.
Garick smiled at his wife. "Braedon indicated he did not care which faerie princess he married, so he chose Trista instead."
Solara stopped breathing, her gaze flitting to Roarke. His expression did not change except for the lifting of his brows.
What did all this mean? In an instant her entire fate had been changed. "Did Trista accept?"
A smile curved Garick's lips. "She was not given much choice considering she finally admitted to manipulating the whole situation with your disappearance. She took the note you gave her and hid it away instead of giving it to Noele as you had instructed."
"That explains much," Noele said.
Garick nodded. "Your father had accompanied us, and he accepted the betrothal of Braedon to Trista. The wedding will take place in one month's time."
"Poor Trista," Solara said, more to herself than anyone else. "I wish I had just gone to Greenbriar as I was destined to. Then none of this would have happened."
She refused to look at Roarke as she said it, knowing he wished the same thing.
"Does not matter," Garick explained. "As far as Trista, what's done is done. As for you, another king will be chosen for you to wed."
Solara fought the trembling of her lower lip, the thought of going through this charade again more than she could bear. "I cannot marry anyone," she said, keeping her eyes focused in her lap.
"Why is that?" Garick asked.
"Because I have compromised her and taken her virginity."
Her head snapped up at the sound of Roarke's voice. Roarke stood, his face like stone, his lips set in a grim line. He looked directly at Garick.
"You did what?"
"I took Solara's virginity."
She waited for Garick to speak. Anger hardened his features, more so than she had ever seen. She had to say something before Garick spoke.
"'Twas my fault, Garick. I lured him, tempted him, until he could not resist. Truly, I made it impossible for him to say no. This is my doing, my responsibility, and I should be punished accordingly, but Roarke should not be blamed."
"Ridiculous," Roarke interrupted. "I need no woman to stand up for me. I made the decision on my own and I will be held accountable for violating a faerie princess."
"No!" Solara stood and faced Roarke. "I will not have you stand in judgment as if this was your doing. You fought me every day, keeping your distance. 'Twas I that forced you into this."
Roarke smiled, his eyes gentling. "You are hardly able to force yourself upon me, faerie. As you can see, I am much stronger than you."
She looked to Garick, desperately grasping at anything that would release Roarke from punishment. "I put a magical spell on him, forcing him into it."
Garick rolled his eyes. "Enough. Leave now. I cannot think with the two of you arguing over who is at fault. I will call upon both of you later when I am ready to discuss this."
She was loath to leave, yet she had to follow the king's orders. With a bow of her head, she and Roarke left the room. Noele stayed behind, offering her a sympathetic smile as she closed the door.
As soon as the door was closed, Roarke asked her, "Why did you do that?"
"Because I could not stand to see your honor besmirched because of what I have done."
"You are not to blame in this, Solara. I came to your chambers last night, remember? You were the one who vowed to keep your distance."
She shook her head. "Does not matter. This is my fault, and I will not have you punished for it."
He reached for a tendril of hair and slid it through his fingers. His eyes darkened and he smiled at her. "I would accept any punishment for having had a chance to taste your delights, my princess. Do believe me when I say that you were worth any cost."
Her pulse skittered, blood roaring through every vein in her body. Oh, what she would not give for a moment of privacy, a chance to touch him one more time. "And I will accept any punishment as well, for I did not wish to go the rest of my life wondering what it was like to lie in your arms."
Roarke sucked in a breath. "We had best separate before Garick comes out and finds us together."
She nodded her agreement, but did not want to leave him.
"I know, faerie. I feel the same way. I want you in my arms so badly right now I am willing to risk death to defy my king."
"I need you Roarke. I am cold without the warmth of your arms around me."
He looked both ways down the hallway, then pulled her into a dark corner, gathering her into his arms and taking her mouth in a kiss that spoke of a thirst that could never be quenched. Her heart ached, soaring with joy and plummeting with the realization that they could never be together.
Roarke rained kisses on her cheeks and neck, murmuring, "I wish so many things, Solara. I wish we were fated, I wish I was noble enough to ask for your hand, but I am no king, and therefore unworthy of you."
Now she could not hold back the tears. "You are my king, you are everything I have ever wanted. From the time of my youth I imagined a dark-haired man who would love me with his heart, not for what I could bring to his lands, but because he wanted me."
He smiled and wiped the tears from her cheeks. "And I do love you, Solara, although I do not think I have ever said the words."
"You did not need to. I love you, too. I have felt in my heart from the first time we met that we were fated. But our fate ends here, this day. Oh, Roarke, I cannot bear to lose you!"
He gathered her against his chest and stroked her hair, whispering words of love. Words she had wanted to hear from him.
But they both knew that despite the words they spoke, their love was not enough to ensure their future together.
Noele paced Garick's office. There was much she wanted to say to him and did not know where to begin.
He had been silent since Roarke and Solara left. Normally, she would not disturb him while he was deep in thought. But she felt that now she must, because she did not want him to make the wrong decisions.
"Garick, I must have a word with you."
He stared out the window into the courtyard. She stepped behind him, laying her hand on his shoulder. When he turned, she knew the pain that Roarke and Solara's admission had caused him.
But for her, he smiled, lifting her hand and pressing it to his lips. "I have missed you, my faerie queen. The first thing I wanted to do upon returning was to sweep you into my arms and carry you into our chambers, where I could make love to you throughout the day."
His words heated her, driving her nipples to hard peaks beneath her shift. Forcing thoughts of pleasure aside until later, she said, "I understand, for I have missed you greatly. My bed is cold at night without you next to me. But first, we must talk about Roarke and Solara."
His smile died and he turned away. "'Tis a decision I must make alone, and you know that."
"Aye, but I have thoughts too and would ask you to hear them."
He sighed and turned to her, leading her to the chaise. Taking her hands in his, he nodded. "Speak, then, for I must make a decision today."
"Roarke and Solara are fated. I feel it, have felt it since the moment the two of them met. The same day I was introduced to you."
He arched a brow. "I felt no such thing that day. Then again, my mind was filled with thoughts of the faerie princess I was to marry."
Caressing his cheek, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips. "For that I thank you. But trust me on this, Garick. They are meant to be together. You cannot blame them for giving in to their desires for one another."
"'Twas forbidden for Roarke to touch Solara."
"True. But when two souls are fated, allowances must be made."
"There is no room for allowances in the laws and customs of our lands."
"Then perhaps it is time to change a few of those laws and customs."
His eyes widened. "What are you saying? That the laws of the land set down generations ago should be altered because Roarke could not keep his dick in his breeches?"
'Twas his frustration causing him to raise his voice, and she knew his conflict was great. Roarke was like an actual brother to Garick, and Garick would not make a decision on his future lightly. "No, that is not what I am saying. What I suggest is that you think about what would have happened had you met me and we bonded, and yet you were forbidden to have me."
He opened his mouth to speak, but Noele pressed a finger to his lips. "I know what you would say, but stop and think. Yes, we were lucky enough to be betrothed and to fall in love. But what if we had not been? What if I had been presented as betrothed to another man? Think before you answer me, Garick."
To his credit, he did. But it wasn't long before his warm grey gaze met hers. "I would have walked through the fires of hell to have you by my side."
His words seared her very soul. "And I would have done the same. I would have committed any crime, done anything, honorable or dishonorable, to make you mine. Now, think of that when you make your decision on Roarke and Solara. Your logic is sound and the laws are clear. But think with your heart, too."
He nodded and she turned to leave, knowing he needed time alone to make his decision. But then she hesitated, remembering her wonderful news. Before she left, she had to tell him, as she would be unable to contain her joy much longer.
"Before I go, Garick, one last thing?"
The way he looked at her, the love in his heart shining on his face, gave her a sense of contentment that she had not thought possible. "Yes, my love?"
She paused for only a second, then grinned. "I carry your child."
\*
Roarke waited impatiently in the hall, oblivious to the stirrings of the castle inhabitants behind him. He only had eyes for Solara, who also stood in front of the two chairs set aside for the King and Queen of Winterland.
They awaited Garick and Noele's arrival. Many hours had passed between their meeting with Garick and this moment. Agonizing hours that Roarke spent wondering what his fate would be.
Garick was fair, had always been so, and yet he could not allow Roarke's violation of Solara to go unpunished. There were laws in the elvin and faerie kingdoms. When those laws were broken, the punishments were severe.
He could be banished, stripped of his position, dishonored publicly, or even imprisoned. As far as Solara, Garick would not punish her, but find her a king willing to accept a faerie princess who was not a virgin. Chances were she would not be taken. But then again, what man would be fool enough to resist her? Her scarlet hair curled wildly down her back, her wings of matching color fluttering slowly open and closed. Her skin was soft as butter, her green eyes reflecting golden pools of passion.
Nay, there would be a fight among the kingdoms. Many would want to claim her.
But she would always be his. No, he would not ask for her. He did not want her to suffer the dishonor that would be bestowed upon him tonight. Nay, he would give her up to a forthright and honorable king before he would allow her to be shamed.
Solara did not know this, but Roarke had spoken privately with Garick before the evening meal, making sure that Garick understood he was more than willing to accept his punishment, but that he wanted no harm to come to Solara.
Garick was strangely silent, but nodded at Roarke's request. He had not spoken to Roarke since, a fact that caused him much pain. He would miss his bonded brother greatly.
A hush went over the hall when Garick and Noele entered. The king's expression gave away nothing of his thoughts, and neither did Noele's. They sat, as did the rest of the people gathered in the hall.
Roarke and Solara were directed to seats in chairs provided for them in front of the crowd. She was so close he could smell her sweet scent. He longed to reach for her hand and reassure her that no harm would come to her this eve, yet did not dare touch her.
For as long as he lived, he would remember her scent, the silken feel of her skin, the warm gold flecks in her eyes and the love in her heart.
Garick cleared his throat and began, first giving the people of Winterland a summary of what had happened in Greenbriar. Gasps were heard when he told of Trista becoming the bride of Braedon. Roarke felt eyes on the back of his head, and no doubt Solara felt them too, yet no one said anything.
"Roarke, would you stand please?"
He stood, looking only at his king.
"Garick, I wish to speak."
The crowd murmured as Solara stood.
"You do not have permission to speak, Solara. Sit down."
"But you do not understand, Garick. I have been trying to tell you---"
"Sit down now or I will have you removed!" Garick bellowed.
Solara sat quickly. Roarke chanced a glance at her, his heart twisting in knots at the sight of her head bowed, fat tears falling onto the hands clasped tightly together in her lap.
Her attempts to protect him were admirable. If he could, he would kiss her for her unselfish willingness to bring dishonor upon herself on his behalf. But he could not.
"And now, if I may be allowed to continue with no more interruptions," Garick started, looking at Solara as if expecting her to object. When she didn't, he nodded and inclined his head to Roarke. "Roarke, please come forward."
He did as his king asked of him, approaching Garick.
"It has come to my attention that there have been some changes while I was gone. This has led me to reevaluate your position here at Winterland."
Roarke listened intently. Not even a sound was made behind him.
"Since the day we were bonded as children, your loyalty to me and to this kingdom has been above reproach. You have been my protector, my friend, and have never failed in your duties."
Roarke inhaled, fighting against the guilt as Garick recited the list of qualities he found admirable. Truly, he did not deserve this, even though he knew what would come after.
"Time and again you have proven yourself equal to the kings of any land. You have fought to protect all of us, your willingness to lay down your life for our people evident. You fended off yet another of the wizards' attacks a few days ago with honor and a warrior's strength. I commend you for this."
Roarke bowed his head, no longer able to meet Garick's eyes.
"Because of your loyalty, your bravery, and because of many other things that have come to light since my return, I am removing you as captain of my guard and releasing you as my protector."
A low murmur reverberated through the crowd. Roarke ignored it, knowing it was about to get much worse.
"Kneel before me, Roarke."
He dropped to one knee as was required, resting his hands on his leg. 'Twas in this position that he would receive his king's decree.
"Be it known throughout our lands that I, Garick, King of Winterland, do hereby bestow the title of King to Roarke. A parcel of my lands to the east will be cordoned off, and forever known as the lands of Roarke, King of Boreas."
Roarke's head snapped up to see Garick taking out his sword and gently placing it over Roarke's shoulders. Cheers resounded throughout the hall, the cacophony of sound blocked out by the blood roaring through his ears.
He stood, unable to fathom what had just occurred. Had he heard correctly? Surely this was some sort of dream, for 'twas not at all the outcome he expected.
Garick clasped him tightly and leaned back. Roarke shook his head. "I...I do not know what to say."
The grin of his old friend shined on his face. "Say nothing. You are now a king."
"I cannot accept this Garick. I do not deserve to be rewarded for an act of dishonor."
Garick arched a brow. "You will insult me if you do not accept. And that would be an act of dishonor. Loving a woman as you do Solara is no shame, Roarke. My own lovely wife reminded me that if our positions were reversed, I would have let nothing stand between me and the woman I loved."
'Twas all too much, only half of it sinking in. A celebration had already begun behind him, but all he could see was his king, his friend, and his beautiful wife, her silver-sparkled face beaming back at him.
"Thank you. I am deeply honored by your generous gift."
Garick nodded. Noele threw her arms around Roarke and kissed his cheek, then took his hands. "As a new king, your first duty should be to select your queen."
His queen. He was a king, still a term he would never think to identify himself. His gaze moved to Solara, who stood near him, smiling. Elisa and Mina flanked her, their youthful, exuberant grins evident. Roarke moved to Solara, and Elisa and Mina stepped back. He took Solara's hands in his, then dropped down to one knee.
The room fell silent as all eyes turned to them.
Solara placed her hand over her breast, trying to quiet the pounding of her heart. The emotion of the moment was almost more than she could bear. And now, to have Roarke on his knees before her was something she could have never imagined.
"Solara, faerie princess of D'Naath. You are the sun that rises in my heart, your soul is my soul, and I would be honored if you would agree to join with me for all eternity. Will you be my wife?"
The words she thought she would never hear from Roarke's lips made her heart soar. She fluttered her wings excitedly, then nodded. "Yes. Oh yes, Roarke. I love you with all my being. I would be honored to spend the remainder of my days at your side."
At her acceptance, the chorus of applause and shouting was near deafening. Roarke stood, gathered her in his arms and kissed her. He held nothing back, pouring out his love in a public display that had her laughing with joy. When they parted, she ran and hugged Noele.
"You said something to Garick that made him change his mind."
Noele kissed her cheek. "Nay. Your love is fated, my sister. I had to do nothing but ask my husband to decide with his heart."
Solara looked to Garick, reaching for his hand and squeezing it. "I will never be able to thank you enough for what you have done."
Garick grinned. "'Tis enough that my wife will have her sister nearby when our baby comes. She will need much help, I think."
She hugged her sister and brother-in-law, then turned to Roarke, flinging herself into his arms and raining kisses all over his face.
"We must marry soon, my faerie," he said, nuzzling her neck. "I cannot wait until you warm my bed every night."
"'Twould be my honor to marry you at the day and time of your choosing. Oh, Roarke, I am so happy I am without words."
Winding his arm around her waist, he led her into the throng of celebration. "You will not need words very soon, my princess. You can show me your joy in acts without words."
The promise in his voice spread desire throughout her body. "Let us hope this celebration is a short one, then, for I have much to say."
The festivities lasted well into the night. Plans were made to refurbish Castle Boreas, which had lain dormant since the death of the previous king. They would begin immediately. Splitting up Garick's lands would create a stronger defense on the northern territories, making a more powerful force against the wizards.
Many of the villagers were eager to make their homes with Roarke. Some of the unprotected villagers outside of Winterland would be welcome in the new castle.
As Roarke and Garick sat and poured over plans, Solara stood watch, smiling at the pride on her soon-to-be-husband's beaming face.
In the end, his honor had stood strong, as had the man behind it. Solara eagerly anticipated her new life as Queen of Boreas, but more than that, as wife of her fated love.
About the author:
Jaci Burton has been a dreamer and lover of romance her entire life. Consumed with stories of passion, love and happily ever afters, she finally pulled her fantasy characters out of her head and put them on paper. Writing allows her to showcase the rainbow of emotions that result from falling in love.
Jaci lives in Oklahoma with her husband (her fiercest writing critic and sexy inspiration), stepdaughter and three wild and crazy dogs. Her sons are grown and live on opposite coasts and don't bother her nearly as often as she'd like them to. When she isn't writing stories of passion and romance, she can usually be found at the gym, reading a great book, or working on her computer, trying to figure out how she can pull more than twenty-four hours out of a single day.
Jaci welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora's Cave Publishing at P.O. Box 787, Hudson, Ohio 44236-0787.

