Authors: Tina Gerow
Lerik’s gaze turned molten as he slowly leaned down toward her.
She allowed her eyes to drift closed and she shuddered as his breath feathered across her lips.
Two loud knocks sounded against the heavy wooden door.
The loud noise startled her, and she jumped back like a guilty child caught stealing candy.
Lerik growled low in his throat before calling, “Enter!”
A stocky man with pointed elf ears and glasses perched on the end of his nose entered the room carrying a handful of clothing.
Standing straight, he only came up to Astiria’s chest, and all his exposed skin looked like…bark.
Her brow furrowed as she sifted through her online gaming knowledge until she found a match—Wood elf, highly intelligent, stubborn and loyal.
Deadly in a fight.
“My Lord, Lerik.
I brought a wide assortment of clothing for your consort to choose from.”
The strange elf turned toward her and bowed at the neck before meeting her curious gaze.
“If these aren’t to your liking, my Lady, I can accommodate whatever you wish.”
“Astiria, this is my steward, Oopec.
He’s trustworthy as well as discrete, but has a horrible sense of timing and irony.”
Astiria almost laughed at Lerik’s pained expression.
“I like you already, Oopec.
It’s nice to meet you.”
He smiled and took her hand in his, placing a quick chaste kiss on the back, pointedly ignoring Lerik’s scowl and warning growl.
“Finally, someone in this castle who has manners.”
“Damned, insolent elf.”
Lerik’s murderous glare seemed to bounce off the wood elf harmlessly.
“I’ll have your pointy ears removed and served to me for breakfast.”
“Yes, my Lord.
Buttered and boiled or fried in eel oil?
I’m here but to serve you.”
At Lerik’s resigned sigh, Astiria knew this was a familiar exchange between them.
“Anything else, Oopec, before I have you hung and your entrails fed to the birds?”
“Yes, My Lord.
Marsoon and a contingent from the Verrath council are at the front gates claiming Astiria was willingly declared to Marsoon, and that you’ve kidnapped what is rightly his.”
Lerik sighed.
“What is Marsoon up to now?
He must know Astiria would never willingly declare to him.
His proof must be false.”
“I know not, My Lord, but might I suggest you consummate things between you before meeting with the council?”
Astiria’s mouth fell open at the word consummate, even though she’d been perfectly willing to do just that only minutes before.
“Does someone want to fill me in on what the hell is going on?”
Lerik opened his mouth to reply, but Oopec cut in, causing his master to grind his teeth and mutter.
“Lord Marsoon—and I do use the term ‘Lord’ loosely since he’s a rapist and a cannibal—is claiming that you have willingly declared to him.
Meaning you
have
shown intention to become his consort by either word or deed.
Thus my suggestion that if Lord Lerik’s claim is indeed reality, Marsoon’s lies and trumped up proof will hold less weight.”
Her eyes rounded at his description of Marsoon, and she swallowed hard, glad Lerik had gotten her away from there quickly.
“His lies and trumped up proof shouldn’t hold any weight.”
She took a deep breath and switched into project manager mode.
Hysterics wouldn’t help her solve the problem, only logic and information would.
“Exactly how would Lerik’s claim become reality?”
Lerik yanked the wood elf backwards before he could speak again and stepped in front of Astiria, gently laying his hands on her shoulders.
“We can officially declare before an empowered witness or we can sexually consummate.”
Her blood turned to lava inside her veins at the last option, and her cheeks burned.
If Oopec would’ve waited another ten minutes to knock, the ‘declaration’ might be already made.
Her raging hormones obviously voted for the latter option.
However, even in a fantasy world, her mind overrode her baser instincts, and focused on the safer option.
“What happens if the council believes Marsoon’s lies?”
The fear lacing her voice hung heavy inside her ears.
Lerik’s expression darkened.
“Then we go to war.
I’ll never let him take you from me.”
“My Lord and Lady,” Oopec interrupted.
“The best course is still the declaration.”
Lerik didn’t spare a glance for the wood elf, but kept his gaze steady on hers.
“I regret that we don’t have many options, Astiria.
I would’ve preferred you to get used to this
world,
and to me before asking you to…declare.”
He ran the pad of his callused thumb over her lips causing her to shiver.
“But even so, I will do what I must to protect you from Marsoon.
Would you be willing to verbally declare intent to become my consort?”
Panic skittered through her system.
It sounded suspiciously like getting engaged, but if her other choice was to be given to a rapist-slash-cannibal, the dream man standing before her definitely seemed like the way to go.
She took a deep breath before answering.
“What do I say?”
Lerik visibly relaxed and turned his head toward Oopec, who stepped forward and whipped a leather-bound book from the pocket of his tunic.
He wet the tip of his finger before flipping pages until he found the correct one.
“According to council law, you must just state aloud your intent and name the other party.”
Sounds easy enough.
She swallowed hard.
Here goes nothing…
“I declare my intent to become Lerik’s consort.”
Oopec pushed his glasses up his nose.
“You must use his correct address.
He is addressed as Lord Lerik.”
“Jeesh!”
She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling.
“Fine, I declare my intent to become Lord Lerik’s consort.”
A shimmering column of golden light surrounded her, reminding her of a transporter beam from Star Trek.
“I, Lord Lerik, accept Lady Astiria’s declaration.”
The golden light expanded to encompass them both, and the tiny hairs on her arms stood on end as if teased by a gentle summer breeze.
Then Lerik’s lips were on hers, and the entire world was forgotten.
Only the feel of his muscled body pressed against hers and those wonderfully talented lips and tongue were of any concern to her.
A soft sigh filled her ears, and she realized it had come from her.
Lerik swallowed the sound greedily and deepened the kiss, demanding more, as her traitorous body screamed for option two.
The heat from his body pressed through her thin cotton outfit, and it was almost as erotic as being naked while he remained fully clothed.
His erection pressed against her stomach making her whimper with need.
She ground herself against him and when he growled with pleasure, gloried in the feminine power she held over this gorgeous man.
Her breasts were sensitive and heavy, and moisture pooled between her thighs.
Lerik’s large hand closed over her ass pulling her tighter against him, and her heartbeat galloped in anticipation.
Oopec cleared his throat, interrupting them.
“Excuse me, Lord?
Lady?
The council still waits.”
Nooooooo!
Her mind spun in frustration as she battled her way through the sexual haze back into this reality.
Lerik pulled back slowly, his eyes still darkened with passion.
His gaze lingered on hers for a long moment before he released her and stepped back.
“I regret to admit the elf is right.
We will continue this another time.”
His dark promise zinged through her and straight to her groin and she bit back a groan.
Oopec cleared his throat and pushed up his ever-slipping spectacles.
“May I also suggest the Lady Astiria avail herself of some of the clothing I brought before we meet the council?”
His words threw a cold bucket of water on her traitorous sexual urges, and heat burned her cheeks as she realized how close she’d come to screwing Lerik right here on the floor…or against the wall, or wherever he’d led.
Not to mention, she wouldn’t have cared if Oopec stood and watched, as long as he hadn’t interrupted.
She cleared her throat, hoping her voice didn’t sound husky with arousal.
“Thank you, Oopec.
Clothes sound like a good idea.”
Chapter Four
Astiria stepped into the large council chambers and tugged at the collar of the unfamiliar dress.
All sound stopped as she and Lerik entered, and hundreds of pairs of eyes swiveled to openly study them.
Lerik stood at her side, a comforting presence cutting through the tangible tension swimming inside the room.
He squeezed her hand, and she clung to him like a lifeline.
How strange to remember that she’d never laid eyes on him before a few hours ago, and now her immediate future depended on the fragile bond they’d forged between them.
Oopec scurried just ahead of them, clearing the way toward the center dais, where a large throne-like chair sat covered in sapphire blue material.
Flopped into the elegant chair was a barrel shaped goblin, twice the girth and breadth of the goblins she’d fought
earlier.
His mouth curved into a cruel line as his cold gaze raked her
over,
as if he examined a piece of property he was considering buying.
His attention made her shudder and recoil.
Small flies buzzed around him, feeding off the stench that billowed around him in a visible cloud.
Lerik placed a possessive hand around her shoulders, pulling her close to his side before he turned his gaze toward the intruder.
“Remove your carcass from my chair, Marsoon, before I have to burn the chair just to get rid of your foul smell.”
The goblin smiled revealing several rows of black, rotted teeth.
“Once you are revealed as a thief and a liar, I’ll possess everything that is yours, including this hideous chair.”
Lerik’s face darkened with anger, and every being in the room took an involuntary step back, while Astiria leaned closer, drawing comfort from the warm hard muscles playing just under her fingers.
Marsoon’s pudgy face blanched, but he continued the stare down with Lerik.
“Enough!”
Silence reigned as a man no taller than Astiria’s knees stepped forward waving a long gnarled staff to part the sea of goblins.
Flowing white hair and beard merged and trailed the floor, almost completely covering his black robes.
His Royal blue eyes were stern, yet kind.
They settled on Astiria, and it seemed as if he saw through to her very soul.
She resisted the urge to squirm under the close scrutiny and instead lifted her chin and squared her shoulders.
Lerik
nodded,
an obvious sign of respect for the little man.
“Welcome to my lands, Council Master Ocam.”
His grip around her waist tightened slightly as if steeling her against the next few minutes.
“Please meet my declared, Astiria of Earrath.”
Grumbling arose from the goblin hoard, and Marsoon glared at them with open hatred, but no one interrupted.
Astiria wasn’t sure if they were cowed by Lerik or by Council Master Ocam.
Unsure of the etiquette of the situation, she bowed her head in the same manner Lerik had.
“A pleasure to meet you, Council Master Ocam.”