The Raven Chronicles Ch 04

CHAPTER TWELVE

INISFAIL COURT

AZAR

Azar dreamed she was free. She wandered through the forest near her home, bare feet padding over familiar trails as she listened to bird calls. No ravens. Even though she longed to hear her mother's voice coming from one of the clever birds, she couldn't stand to see black feathers right now.

Some travelers to the oasis near her home had brought talking birds that had blue and yellow feathers. Another had grey feathers with a bright red tail. She didn't need a raven to speak in her mother's voice.

Sunlight dappled the dirt beneath her feet, streaming in between the thick canopies overhead. A warm breeze lifted her dress and trailed across her skin.

No castles or towers in sight. No fancy cages anywhere. She exhaled a breath that carried pent up frustration with it.

A male groan came from ahead of her. She knew that sound. Fechin made it when he bedded her. It wasn't bad enough he'd forced himself into her life -- now he was invading the sanctuary of her dreams!

She told her feet to turn around.

Dream of the sand. Dream of the lake.

Don't talk to the birds, Azar.

If only she had listened to her father and not wandered in the woods!

Another male groan, accompanied by a breathy, feminine sigh.

He'd not only invaded her dream, he'd dared bring a woman here? Her feet ignored her commands and carried her forward.

In the shady part of a grassy meadow, Fechin lay on his back, knees bent, feet flat on the ground, the golden skin of his naked body revealed in full. Even seeing him from the side, his expression was one of bliss as he gazed adoringly at the naked woman who sat astride his hips and placed her hands on his rock hard biceps to bend forward and kiss him.

The guttural sound of pleasure that rumbled from his throat stole her breath.

The faithless liar! She'd spent a week listening to him blather all his words about love, adoration, soul mates, and a bond, and every one was a lie. Azar curled her hands into fists. She'd started to believe what he said.

Irrational pain filled her heart, and her eyes burned with unshed tears at the sight of this betrayal. She was so stupid when it came to him!

Azar tried to smother those emotions. Why did she care? She should be glad Fechin dreamed of having sex with other women! It only meant she was right to keep as much of herself from him as she could. He could make her body betray her, but not her heart, and never her mind.

Not after this.

The woman sat up and arched her back as her hips rose and fell.

Azar's hand flew to her mouth to stifle the cry rushing up her throat at the sight of Fechin's stark beauty in the throes of ecstasy. He palmed the woman's breasts as she rode him faster, took him deeper -- her cries and the pace of her body increasing.

Fechin's hands cupped the woman's ass to guide her movements. The muscles of his arms bunched and flexed as he lifted and lowered her on his cock.

Azar never should have come here. Never should have seen this, but no matter how badly she wanted to flee, she remained rooted in place as shock built toward hate.

Only that afternoon, he'd been holding her, his tongue and hands caressing her body. Now it was clear she meant nothing special. She was the means to an end for him. The one he wanted to use to gain his throne.

No matter what happened when she was awake, she wouldn't allow herself to be used by him. Ever. All she wanted was to get as far from him as possible. But he wouldn't release her until he got he wanted. He'd made that clear.

"Fechin," the woman panted in a voice husky with need.

That single word was like cold water pouring over Azar, and she was able to move. She took a step back as she struggled against the tears burning her eyes. Stretching out a hand, she braced herself on a tree trunk to push away, but her eyes were drawn inexplicably to him.

Fechin sat up. His mouth was against the woman's shoulder, dark eyes an abyss she all too easily fell into. Her breath hitched when she found him watching her with a hungry look.

She'd been caught, but instead of fleeing, she remained frozen. Those black eyes continued to hold hers. His lips traveled down the woman's throat to her breast.

The sight sent warmth spreading between Azar's legs, and her nipple hardened. His gaze never left hers as suckled. The other woman cried out like Azar wanted to. Her fingernails dug into Fechin's shoulders, drawing him closer as his tongue swirled over her skin.

Azar felt his breath and tongue against her flesh. He seemed to know she felt him as his eyes fastened on her chest in such a tangible way that her thighs trembled.

How could he be staring at her with such desire while he was inside the other woman? What was she still doing in here? Why hadn't she fled?

Her tongue licked over her lips with the urge to taste Fechin as a sheen of sweat broke out over his skin. She'd lost her mind. She'd already known she was losing herself to him.

"Do you like this?" His words froze Azar before she could bolt.

His hands slid higher on the woman's back when she panted, "Yes."

He turned his head into her hair and, still holding Azar's eyes, said into the woman's ear, "Then come for me."

Azar's body reacted, a rush of heat coiling low in her belly. Unable to bite back a moan, she took another step back, torn between the yearning of her body and the anguish in her heart.

A sane woman would have left as soon as she saw proof of Fechin's duplicity. She wouldn't be watching him as he again took one of the woman's nipples into his mouth, nipping at it so she bucked and screamed.

Her need grew deeper as the woman scored his shoulder with her nails hard enough to raise drops of blood on his skin. He lifted his head from her breast and, for the first time since he'd noticed Azar, he looked away from her to focus on the other woman.

Azar couldn't help following his gaze. Her eyes landed on the woman as she arched against Fechin, threw her head back, and moaned as she orgasmed. The world lurched out from under Azar as he gazed at the woman's face with what could only be called love.

The tears she'd been fighting spilled down her cheeks. She swiped them away.

The woman on Fechin's lap turned to face Azar, meeting her own eyes.

"Welcome to my dreams, my love."

Azar jerked out of her dream and sat up. There was no sanctuary from the man.

He'd taken her without her permission and pushed this new life on her. She despised him even as she loved him. Although, she had to wonder about that, too. He could control her. Maybe he could make her feel things she wouldn't if she had a choice.

Azar remembered another dream, in which she'd told him she liked his touch. But she hadn't agreed to stay with him. Had she?

The man muddled her thinking and senses.

She had to get out of here.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

INISFAIL COURT

FECHIN

For a week Azar had wailed, paced, and refused to look at him. But when he touched her, she gave in, every time.

Now they were sharing dreams.

She'd have to accept the bond between them. It would only deepen. The magic wouldn't let her hate him much longer. For now, her body was his, and if that's all he could have, he'd have to accept that and make it enough to save Inisfail.

For now.

He rose from his bed and dressed, anxious to see if she was more receptive to his company now. Azar certainly hadn't been happy when she thought he'd taken another woman. He'd seen her jealousy when she thought he dreamed of another woman, even if she didn't know what it was she felt.

Azar sat on the couch, knees drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around them. She wore pants and a long shirt. Irritation spiked. He'd given her a wardrobe full of dresses fit for a queen, but she dressed in little better than rags she'd convinced the Brownies to bring her. While he wanted to see her in the gowns and jewelry he supplied, part of him understood her need to rebel.

He controlled almost everything about her life now. Letting her wear what she liked to spite him was a battle he didn't need to win. Seeing her desire him in their dream was a victory far greater. Fechin smiled at his beloved.

She blazed like fire and stormed across the room. "How could you do that to me?" Her small fists pummeled his chest. "You think this is funny? That I'm some toy you can play with?"

Fechin caught her wrists. "You will calm yourself. Stress is not good for the child."

"Calm myself?"

she sputtered. "Of all the condescending --" Her face went slack as she registered the rest of his words. "The... child?" She jerked her hands away from him and pressed them to her belly. "I'm

pregnant?"

Fechin couldn't interpret the emotions flitting across her face, but his heart leapt as he spoke the words. Even though it was early, only a week so far, he pinned all his hopes on the babe growing inside his

maité anam

. "Yes. You're pregnant. And if I have to keep you relaxed, I know exactly what works. I'm happy to do my part."

"Pregnant." A tear slid down her cheek.

He once again wished things could be different between them. That he could be a man capable of doing things her way. Did she not want a child? More likely, she didn't want

his

child. Fechin reached for her, wanting to offer comfort, shared joy, anything she needed or would accept. The chasm between them had to start closing somehow.

Eyes wide, Azar held her palms out, like she could hold him back while she retreated. "You kidnapped me, manipulated me, used my body for sex, and got me pregnant and didn't need my permission, all because you think I'm your soul mate."

"You

are

my

maité anam

." He paced after her. "Give me a chance. Let me show you how it can be with the bond between us."

"I promise you can have your chance

after

you take me home. If you truly love me as you say, you will do this like a normal person and get to know me, not force me to be with you. Take me back to my father. He can't be left alone for so long."

"We can make a deal. For every month of your pregnancy, I'll leave you with your father for the same amount of time after the child is born. But I will return for you. You belong with me."

"I don't belong to you, nor should I have to make a deal for you to do what's right!"

"It's the best I can do. Give me a child and I'll take you to see your father."

She ignored the offer. "Take me home now. I can be pregnant there as well as I can here."

"I can't let you leave while you carry my heir." The idea of her being out of his sight now made him crazed.

"So I

am

a prisoner."

Anger and frustration rose inside him. It was the same circular argument over and over. "If that's how you want to see yourself, then yes. You're a prisoner."

"You're just using me. This isn't love."

He resisted the urge to shake sense and understanding into her. "I love you regardless of the throne."

"But not enough to put me first."

He had to put the greater good first -- thousands of Fae relied on him for their lives. That had to come before his happiness, or hers.

"If you won't let me go home, bring my father here."

Her request was reasonable, but he couldn't leave her alone here long enough to retrieve the man. He couldn't even be sure the portal remained. Shisti had every reason to kill Azar. And Vilkos... There was no telling what either of them would do to Azar, especially if they realized she was pregnant. "It's not as simple as that."

"Why not?"

She was innocent in so many ways. It was refreshing to be around someone with no ulterior motives. Unwilling to burden her with the knowledge others wanted her dead, and would happily murder her, he used what he knew worked to distract her. Pacing forward, he caged her against the wall.

"Now is not the time to talk about your father." Dipping his head to the crook of her neck, he inhaled her clean, sweet scent. He needed to lose himself in her. Revel in something pure.

Her pupils dilated, and she held her breath as he slid her tunic over her head. He slipped her leggings and panties off and nudged her legs apart. "Wider."

"Let me go." This time it was more plea than demand as she obeyed him.

"I will never let you go." Fechin penetrated her, pressing his fingers into her hot slickness while his thumb circled her clit. He knew how to physically pleasure her, even if he hadn't won her heart yet.

She whimpered as his mouth came down to her throat, kissing her there before biting. His tongue soothed any sting, and he kissed a line down to her full breasts. Her nipples puckered, and she groaned as he palmed them one after the other.

"So perfect, and so beautiful," he crooned, and parted her legs with his thigh, pressing his hard muscle against her core. He ground against her, dropping fervent kisses to her neck and breasts, making her shiver.

She rotated her hips until her slickness covered his thigh, and her head fell back. He knelt, lifted her leg, and kissed the inside of her knee. His tongue made slow circles on her skin. His fingers danced up the inside of her other leg as his tongue moved up. He ran his nails along the crease between her sex and her thigh.

One of his hands cupped her butt so he could position her. Fechin licked a long line over her pussy, savoring the taste of her. He captured her clit between his lips and sucked, tongue circling against the tiny bundle of nerves. He sucked one of her lower lips into his mouth, brushing his teeth against it.

His tongue dipped inside, tasting her. One finger joined his tongue, curling inside her. She jumped as the pad of his thumb hit a sensitive spot. He rubbed it, and his tongue moved back to her clit. He hummed against her, sending vibrations through her pussy. The leg she stood on trembled and he took her weight.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders as the first wave of an orgasm crashed over her. He slid another finger into her wet channel, and she gripped down on them.

"Come, Azar."

And she did.

Satisfied Azar was ready to take him, Fechin sat on the bed, turned her around, and pulled her against him. She exhaled a sharp breath as he settled her backwards on his lap.

Fechin liked nothing more than to hold her down or bind her when he took her, but this time, he didn't want to reinforce he was dominant -- she already knew that, and it gave her the illusion she was forced into what he wanted. He needed her to know he was right about their belonging together, and that she felt it, too.

Her slick entrance pressed against his rigid erection. She braced herself on his knees to raise her hips and he guided her down, penetrating, then burying himself to the hilt within her.

Azar rocked back with an ecstatic moan, turning her head to look over her shoulder as he filled his hands with her breasts. His fingers moved down to clench the soft flesh of her thighs, and he held her still as she adjusted to the intensity of their union.

He lifted her in the same moment he thrust, and she brought herself back down. Mutual pleasure shot through every nerve ending, and left her lips in an expressive moan. She rode him tentatively at first, then harder as her confidence built, and she found the angle that brought her the greatest sensation.

His hands travelled up her sides, stopping at her breasts, teasing them and gently pulling on them, the tips tight with arousal.

Azar bucked her hips as he held her in his embrace. The raven inside him reached for her, striving for a deeper connection. He trailed kisses along her neck and bare shoulder. Her skin and soul burned hot, sending a painful pleasure through him where they touched, physically and magically.

The only thing left was to feel. Carnal pleasure. Love. A sense of destiny.

Sensations between them built, climbing to new blissful heights as Fechin sped up his thrusts. He pumped into her, and she met every thrust with a surprised cry. Azar clenched around him as she crested the wave of orgasm she'd been chasing.

Her pussy gripped him tight as he came deep inside her. She slumped in his arms, sated and sweaty. Rolling to his back, he held her unresisting body to his chest.

"I love you. Azar. So much. I'll find a way to prove it, and you'll be happy here. You'll see. Just stop fighting me about everything."

"No more fighting." She mumbled the words into her pillow so quietly he almost missed them. Her tone lacked the fire he'd come to expect.

He wanted to believe her, but the capitulation came too easily. After a week of hysterics, this sudden about-face felt like a trick. Fechin ran his fingers through her hair. That was likely paranoia. There was no deception in his innocent Azar.

The bond connected them so deeply she'd found his dreams. It was more proof she was his. Her agreement probably just meant she was finally acknowledging what he'd been saying the whole time.

She'd accepted hospitality. She'd thanked him. She wore clothing he provided. She ate the food, which was turning her Fae.

He was looking forward to seeing what magic she wielded.

Even without the bond, they were practically married by Inisfail Fae law.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

INISFAIL COURT

SHISTI

Moon-Clad, Shisti knelt on the thick rug in front of the fireplace in her suite of rooms. She longed to be outside, bare under the night sky. Or in the middle of a storm as wind, thunder, and lightning fed her power. While the Fae had no issue with nakedness, or most kinds of magic, they didn't like witches.

For what she wanted to do, being that much closer to her magic would have been a comfort, but she was used to making do trapped in this pile of black rock.

She drew her athame down her arm. The sharp ritual blade sent a red cascade into the incantation bowl she used for spell work, and the pain focused her on the reason for the magic -- an unwanted life growing inside her.

Her visions were

never

wrong. Fechin would become king, not Vilkos. And she would put him on the throne. That wasn't possible if she was pregnant with Vilkos' child.

Shisti chanted the death magic that would harness the energy as the baby died. Infant deaths contained raw magic. If only she'd had the chance a week ago, on the longest night of the year. That was an especially auspicious time to take power.

Again, she would make do. Her power spun magic around her like a tornado, tearing at the flames, billowing her curtains, and whipping her hair. Shisti directed her power inward, searching for the life that fed on her, and found not one, but two.

The boy felt like a wolf.

The girl, though, did not.

She felt like magic and happiness, and a future of endless possibilities. An unfamiliar sense of protectiveness seized her.

A daughter. Shisti could love a daughter. She would take her away from courts, and intrigue, and manipulative people who would use her. A daughter would love her in return. The two of them would be happy together, and Shisti would do everything possible to protect her.

But first, she had to get rid of this boy. The son who would bind her to Vilkos and give him a chance for the Raven throne.

The first part of her spell finished, Shisti opened her mouth to add the killing words. They wouldn't come. She heard them in her head, but her tongue wouldn't utter the words she needed and they remained stuck as a lump in her throat.

Vilkos.

He'd done this to her. Vilkos and his command to protect the child.

She hurled her athame against the wall so hard the blade slid into the stone. In a mindless rage, she threw her bowl of blood into the fire and stormed around her bedroom.

She pressed her hands to her abdomen and willed herself calm. This rage wasn't good for her daughter. She focused on serenity and sent love to her girl.