Through Time-Pursuit (15 page)

She thrust into him, and he could wait no longer. He drove it home, and then suddenly he went very still.

“
Och no … no
! I dinna know—why dinna ye tell me? Did … did I hurt ye, love?”

“Oh fuck me
—just keep fucking me … move it … keep moving it …” she answered, shocking him with the heat of her need.

He was her first, but he could see she must have learned a thing along the way to this moment. And then she shocked him again as she eyed him saucily and added, “Well … big man …?”

He had not expected that even though he had noticed early on that for a Fae she did not seem very skilled in the art of dalliance. In fact, he had thought any number of times when he flirted with her that she came near to blushing.

This was a new and captivating experience for him.

As he held her and worked himself inside her, a swelling of emotion surged through his mind and heart, and it tore through his throat in a harsh whisper. “
Mine,
Seelie Princess …
now ye be mine
!” And he drove home all his meaning.

~ Ten ~

THEIR LOVEMAKING HAD taken her to another place in her mind, and she found him there. A bonding. Wolves imprinted on one another. Fae, when they met their destined mate, did much the same and called it
bonding.

But he was not a Fae. Did he feel it? Did he feel the bond that made her forever his?

Would she be destined to be tied to Chancemont LeBlanc for eternity while he went off with others? The thought made her want to die.

She closed her eyes and snuggled her ass firmly into the lap his legs made up against her. He had taken her in ways she had never believed were possible, in ways she wanted to repeat over and over.

She had not thought she could so easily climax … so many times. His fingers had played her. His tongue and the way he used it …

He had used his cock to probe her from behind while two fingers pleasured her—
what did he call it
?—her love nest. She smiled to herself, and as she moved he woke up. His hand immediately cupped her breast.

“I love your tits, woman …” he whispered and kissed her neck in sleepy fashion.

He called her lass, he called her woman, and in his arms that was what she was—his woman. She forgot that she was a Royal Fae with obligations and another world—a world she would have to return to one day. The thought of ever leaving him hurt so much she cringed.

He felt it and came out of dozing to ask worriedly, “What, love—what is it?”

“Nothing,” she whispered and held the hand that cupped her breast. He immediately became aroused and totally awake.

“Is it more ye want then?” He snuggled into her neck as his cock beat a rhythm against her butt.

She marveled at his stamina. “Are you not tired …?”

“Whist with ye, sweetheart, tired am I?” Thus saying he slipped his cock into her from behind and started her up.

All logic and thoughts of the future were set aside as she gave herself over to his magical dance.

He groaned and lifted her by the waist onto her hands and knees so he could kneel behind her. Her cupped the tuft of hair between her thighs as he rocked his dick inside her and teased her hard, tingling nipple with his free hand.

“Och now … my little tart … give me all ye have … and I’ll be doing the same …” He moaned as he shoved himself deeper and racked her body with pleasure.

As she started to go off, he allowed himself release. They shuddered as one before he took her in his arms and laid her back down beside him.

She shifted onto her back, and his fingers played with her nipples. Had it only been yesterday, she wondered, that she lay dying in the Fallen Druid’s prison and in so much pain?

All the pain was gone, as were any signs of an injury, but the memory was there, along with the continued admiration for the human race. She thought of young David. She needed to visit with him and his family soon …

Chance had fallen asleep, so she slowly, quietly got out of bed and made her way to the shower. Clothes? Would she be able to open a small portal to retrieve her clothes from her wardrobe in Faery?

She closed her eyes and concentrated. Yes! Oh yes, she was getting stronger. She produced a drawer full of clothes and laid them out on a nearby chair. The blue summer dress with the spaghetti straps and her pretty leather sandals—perfect.

Right, so what she needed to do was wash, dress, and stretch her legs!

* * *

Dravo—so very different than her world of Tir. She took a good long whiff of air; it wasn’t as sweet as Faery air, but it was fresh and lovely. It was a shade closer to the air in the Human Realm. She looked around at the LeBlanc Manor grounds and chose a path that would take her towards the stables and pastures.

She wanted to explore his world and know him through it.

The stable building was Old World in style but had all the modern amenities. Automatic water spouts in the stalls. Beautiful brass fixtures, heavy hardwood flooring.

She went out the back of the barn to stare at his horses in their paddocks. They were prime blood, each and every single one. A mother grazed while her young foal danced in the clover. A stallion called to her from the stud paddock across the sandy road. The scene was absolutely breathtaking.

She was getting her magical strength back. She knew she would need it when they finally faced Pestale. It would take all their combined powers to defeat him because he was ruthless and made his decisions without emotion. He would concentrate all his efforts in winning, no matter the cost. They did not have that luxury—cost always factored in.

She wandered down a bridle path and found the aroma of pines and wildflowers intoxicating—and so much like Tir.

The thought drew a heavy sigh. What was she going to do? She was in a mess of love,
but was he
? He certainly wanted her and had made that all very clear. She smiled as she remembered how sweetly he had caressed her. Yes, it was more than lust—there was something there. He hadn’t yet really said the words. He had showed her she was special to him, but he had not said the words or promised her more than the ‘now’. She certainly hoped it wasn’t wishful thinking on her part, but she believed that he loved her.

Obstacles would definitely present themselves to their union. His people, hers … the queen? His world, her world—where would they reside?

She looked up at the sound of a twig breaking and was astonished when she looked into eyes so much like Chance’s that for a moment she almost ran to him.

Walking towards her was a man who could have passed as Chance’s twin—except he had just a bit more age than Chance.

His father
, she knew immediately; it could only be his father. What would he think? What would he say? Would he hate her on sight because she was a Fae?

“Good morning to ye, Princess Royce,” he said with an inclination of his head as he came forward. “I am Chance’s da, Morgan.”

She smiled warmly, so relieved to see a welcome in his eyes. “However did you know my name?”

“How could I not? ’Tis all m’boy spoke of when he was in the kitchens yesterday telling Cook just what she must prepare for ye.”

Her lashes lowered with a shy pleasure she could not explain, and Morgan LeBlanc laughed out loud. “Aye, I see it, lass—aye that I do.”

“See it?” she asked in some puzzlement.

“Don’t be backwards in this,” he cautioned. “This is yer time, and doona let it go.” He sighed and added, “I’ll tell ye something, lass—that lad of mine has never brought a woman into our home before. Ye be the first. Ye will do well to remember that.”

“Oh … that is because I was injured in battle …” she started to explain.

He barked out a short, gruff laugh. “
Blind, are ye
? Very well. So be it.”

“What are you saying, sir?”

“Doona ye know?” He shook his handsome head and released a long sigh. “It won’t be easy—he isn’t a pliable man, but … you’ll do.”

“Your words are more confusing than clear—what are you trying to tell me?” she asked, although she had a very good notion. She just didn’t want to make any mistakes. It was all too important.

“He has this stubborn notion that if he were to make a commitment … well, ye see, it is all about what happened to his mother …” His voice trailed off, and Morgan LeBlanc looked to the heavens and closed his eyes.

She felt a wave of sympathy and compassion for him and said softly, “I know. Chance mentioned something—not all, but something.” She had fallen into step beside him as they walked, but at her words he stopped and turned.

His tone was incredulous. “He told ye aboot that, did he?” He slipped her hand into the crook of his arm and began leading her back towards the house. “Then I’d best be telling ye the rest.”

“Oh, not if it is painful, sir …”

“Morgan, ye call me Morgan. Aye, painful—it will forever be painful, but I’ll be telling ye all the same.” He shook his head and sighed. “My own dear sweet …” He sighed again. “She was a stubborn one was my bride … the darling mother of m’bairns.” He stopped again and looked at her. “Forgive me. It has been a long time since I spoke of it.”

“Don’t … then …”

“No, ye must know. Right then, we—a team of our own—were rounding up a few escaped Dark Fae, keeping the humans safe some centuries ago, as we do when ye Fae don’t heal the breach in the magic wall of their prison quick enough. I asked her to stay home with young Lana, but would she?” He shook his head. “
Not she.
When we took too long, longer than she expected, she left Lana at home with a friend and went into the village—our village, which should have been as safe for her, night or day, as was her own home.”

He stopped, drew breath, and closed his eyes. “As it turned out, one of our hunters—
one
who wished me ill—had doubled back to Dravo. He was drunk, and he had long lusted after m’bride, and when he saw her in the village …” Morgan LeBlanc stopped and looked long at Royce before saying, “Evil has no gender, no race, no religion
. Evil is
—remember that, lass. This one’s soul had always been damaged, but that night he turned evil. He had with him what we call hobbles. They are magical. We designed them so that we could toss them onto a Dark Fae and keep it from shifting—or moving for that matter. The trouble is, they work on us as well. Never had reason to worry over that before.” He stopped again.

Royce stroked his hand, and said, “Don’t … this is too painful for you …”

“Aye, but ye must be told,” he answered and continued. “The brute waited his chance, and as he caught her in conversation—she wanted to know about me and Chance—he hobbled her and dragged her into the alley. M’lass … m’own dear lass, put up a fight. She scratched and bruised and beat at him as he tried to take her … and she screamed for help … and she called for me. We have a mind link, but I dinna get there in time …

“Villagers heard her scream and shifted to her at the moment the villain said,
‘If I
canna have ye … no one else ever shall.’

“Chance and I arrived just as he pointed his Death Sword at her heart. I jumped him, but … his sword scratched her … it nicked her all the same …”

He stopped and collected himself. Royce knew he saw it all in his mind, fresh and awful to remember. Then he said, “Chance took to beating him while I tried to heal her, but even the
scratch
of a Death Sword … as you know, is fatal. It took her days to die … and we said our good-byes, and I managed to ease her pain … but lose her I did.”

Royce couldn’t speak because she was crying. She had seen the entire tale with her vivid imagination, and her heart broke for him. After all these centuries he still missed his wife.

He spoke quietly then. “Vengeance did little for me. Oh yes, Chance beat him till he coona move, and then I tortured him—ye need not hear those details, but I tortured him long before I put him to death. It did not heal me, and it did not bring her back, but it was necessary at the time.”

Royce felt her insides twist. “Oh sir, sir …”

He smiled sadly and wiped the tears from her cheek with a handkerchief he produced out of nowhere. He then put his arm around her. “There, there … ’twas a long time ago.”

“What are ye doing, Da, with m’woman in yer arms?” Chance demanded, looking none too happy as he stomped their way.

~ Eleven ~

“THERE YE ARE,” Morgan LeBlanc said with something of a smirk curving his lips. Royce saw with avid interest a bright look in his blue eyes and wondered about this father and son’s relationship.

“Aye, and there
thee be
 …” Chance retorted, grinning, as he walked over. He put his hands on his father’s shoulders and shook them with great affection. He then took Royce’s hand, pulled her away from his da, and held her tightly against his side.

Royce was so intrigued with watching the two that she forgot to object to his possessive handling. She would have to do something about that, but not just at this moment, she decided. At any rate it felt so darned good to be pressed up against him.

Damn,
she thought as she ran her gaze over Chance as inconspicuously as she could. He looked so buff in his lightweight gray tee and ragged blue jeans. His thick blond hair fell about in layered waves and framed his handsome face—styled so differently than his father, who wore his blond hair slicked back and tied at the nape of his neck. And then his eyes looked into hers, and she was filled with warm delight as that blue gaze of his was obviously alight with boyish happiness.
Could she love him more than she did at that moment?

She watched as he conversed jovially with his father and sensed the respect and love they had for one another. She smiled sweetly when he touched his father’s shoulder and said gruffly, “I haven’t seen ye about in some days, Da …”

“I needed a quiet time to grieve alone for our girl. I will forever miss our Lana … but now, we must move forward. There are matters, new matters that must occupy our attention. Tell me, what news have ye of the devil bastard?”

Chance sighed heavily and began telling his father what they had been doing and what they knew of Pestale’s present whereabouts—which was zero.

His father looked at Royce and said, “And do ye have a scent of the villain, lass?”

“Not yet, but I think I soon may,” she answered with determination. These two men, now a part of her life, needed closure—justice, whatever one chose to call it, they needed it—which in essence meant they needed to destroy, not imprison Pestale. Her queen wanted Pestale captured, she knew, so where would her loyalty lie in this regard?

“Right then,” said his father. “Well … the morning moves on, and we must return to the manor! We have a very important guest arriving shortly.”

“A guest—an important guest?” Chance appeared surprised.

Royce made no remark to this, but she looked from father to son. Chance’s father was excited, but he obviously meant to keep it a secret until they returned to the house.

“Aye, coom then—she will arrive at any moment, and we must be there to greet her,” Chance’s father said as he rubbed his large hands together and started to lead them towards the house.

“Her—an important
her?
” Chance pursued the subject.

“Aye, then, coom … now … coom along—
hurry.
” He touched Chance’s shoulder, and since Chance had a hold of Royce, they shifted all three together to the large, bright, beautifully furnished receiving room of the manor house.

Chance exchanged a meaningful glance with Royce, who shrugged her shoulders; however, she knew more than she was letting on and was a touch nervous about it as well.

She had experienced a short flash that had given her this information, but she decided to keep quiet on the subject and allow it to play out naturally.

Chance sighed and moved over to the sideboard where coffee and food had been laid out on hotplates. He poured three cups, giving one first to Royce and then another to his da. As he sipped, he eyed his father and asked, “Who is this person?”

“
Not just a person
,” said his father, beaming proudly.

Suddenly the room was filled with a circular aura of gold dust, and Royce smiled with anticipation.

Chance’s eyes narrowed as dawning flitted across his face. His father went forward towards the gold dust.

Queen of the Seelie Fae Aaibhe stepped into the room.

She was stunning. Her white-gold hair fell in waves down her back to her waist. Her gown of sheer white and silver was embroidered with silver sparkles throughout and clung to her tall, provocative figure. Her manner was easy as she gave them all a soft smile of greeting.

Morgan LeBlanc inclined his handsome head and extended his hand. She allowed him a moment as he took her fingers to his lips. Her iridescent eyes smiled at him, and then she glided towards Royce.

Unceremoniously, Royce dove into her arms. “Forgive me, my Queen … but the Fallen Druid was not human when he was killed.”

The queen patted Royce’s head and answered sweetly, “I know, child … the Fallen Druid was scarcely human when I imprisoned him all tho—”

Royce drew back and looked at her as she unthinkingly cut her off. “Then … you aren’t here to send me into a mountain?”

The queen’s laugh was light and musical. “I am here to commend you and see for myself that you are
healing
 …” She turned to Chance. “I know that you are responsible for her well being.” She inclined her beautiful head. “Thank you.”

She turned then and walked over to Chance’s father. “Morgan, you have a lovely home. The wonder is that I have never been here before.”

“We must repair that in the future,” Morgan said earnestly. “You must come often.”

She gave him a smile that said nothing and yet did not say no. “Is that coffee you are all drinking?”

He gave her his arm and led her to a ladies chair. “I shall fetch it for you, Queen Aaibhe.”

“Morgan … we are way past formalities after all these years.”

“Indeed, Aaibhe … formality was never my strong suit,” he said and gave her a lingering look.

“Ah, but you have so many other … strong suits,” she answered sweetly.

Royce watched this exchange with interest.
What was going on here
? She looked at Chance, who looked dumbfounded and whose lips had parted to allow his lower lip to drop.

Aaibhe glanced across the room at Chance and Royce with a quick smile. Then a quiet, solemn expression came over her face as she said, “As it happens, I am also here because I have remembered something disturbing that you need to know.”

They waited for her to proceed.

“The Dark King, as you might have heard … or not, experimented with time travel. You see, in making his human love and consort, Crystal … more Fae than human, something went wrong. The spell combined with the elixir produced an unexpected side effect. It left her … infertile. She wanted children. The Dark King believed if he went back in time, before he had given her the elixir, he could get her with child and then simply make both his consort and their child immortal.” She paused for a long moment and then said sadly, “I do not like conjecture. Guessing is a dangerous thing, but I shall venture this guess, for I have no way of knowing the truth. It is my belief that Pestale watched his father perform time travel experiments and learned the trick of it. It is my belief that when the Dark King, at both his beloved’s and
my
request, gave up the notion of reversing what had been done, Pestale stole the Dark King’s Time Relic, and I believe he has it now and plans to use it to go to a past where he will cause havoc if he attempts to alter it. He cannot co-exist in the past. He cannot live in both the Dark Realm and somewhere else at the same time. It will cause a fissure. We must either stop him or return him to the present by finding and removing the Time Relic from him.”

A lengthy discussion ensued and plans were made, but Royce was worried because she had gotten visions of Pestale, and in those visions he had been pleased with whatever it was that he had accomplished. She kept this to herself, for these visions were not written in stone. Things could change.

Afterwards, Aaibhe and Chance’s father began chatting quietly together. As Chance looked their way, he shook his head and whispered to Royce, “What is yer queen doing, flirting up my da?”

“I have the same question for you. What is your da doing, flirting with my queen?”

“I know he has always rather … admired her, and then after we fought the Dark Fae and Gais with Z and Dante last week, I saw the two of them in conversation, but this, lass—
what is this?
”

“I’m so hungry,” Royce answered, avoiding the question as she took up a plate and piled it high with eggs and potatoes and ketchup.

“Do ye put ketchup on everything?” Chance asked, eyeing her plateful that rivaled the size of his own.

“Yes, I acquired the taste when I met and stayed with a human family for a while.” She sighed. “I met them quite by chance when I was feeling particularly low. They needed a nanny … I helped them till they found one. I miss them—especially David.”

He chuckled and touched her nose. “You never cease to amaze me, lass …” He glanced at his father laughing and chatting up the Queen of the Seelie Fae and shook his head. “What the bloody hell is going on there?”

“Leave it alone—
leave them alone
. Your father is smiling, and my queen is very nearly acting like a schoolgirl. I like it,” Royce answered and plopped a forkful of potatoes into her mouth. “These are sooo good.”

Their meal was done, but as his father and the queen seemed steeped in conversation, Chance grinned and took Royce’s hand. “Come on … I want to show you one of my favorite spots in Dravo.” And without another word, he shifted them, but not before she grabbed a banana off the sideboard serving table.

They arrived at the peak of a green and tall mountain, tropical in its lush vegetation, palms, and colorful birds. It so reminded Royce of Faery.

He took her to the edge, and from that cliff they looked down at the valley. The view was mesmerizing.

“Isn’t this beautiful?” he whispered.

“Oh Chance—so incredibly lovely … yes, beautiful. Did the Milesians create Dravo?”

“Not in the sense your queen and Council created the Isles of Tir.” He grinned at her and kissed her fingers. “Faery was a dimension your queen and Council thought up and made almost as a small copy of Danu.” He shook his head. “We didn’t have quite that kind of power in those days. We were new to it all, but we understood that as immortals we simply could not as a nation manage amongst the humans—we no longer were human …” He sighed. “We went searching about for a dimension that could conform to our needs. And we discovered this lovely Realm. We called it Dravo, for m’mother’s maiden name. When we arrived here it was completely overgrown, and the only wildlife of any size were monkeys and tropical bird life. It was an easy enough task to bring in animals from the Human Realm and tame the land to suit our needs …”

He turned to her and stared at the peeled banana she had just put to her mouth. “Och lass, do ye know what ye do to me? By all that is, there are things I want to do to you … and if you like … you can have
one
more … lick of that banana before I spread it in places on yer body where I mean to nibble …”

She took a hurried bite of the banana, even as he slipped the straps of her summer dress off her bare shoulders. His moan of pleasure circled her heart and sped through her body, getting her hot and filling her with uncontrollable need.

“The feel of yer skin drives me wild …” He pulled her dress below her breasts and growled low in his throat as he cupped them. Then he bent his head to lick and suckle at her hard, yearning nipples.

Her head went back, and her body automatically pressed into his. She waited for him to take off her dress, but instead, his hands went under it and grabbed her butt as he said, “Take this pretty dress off. I want to see it drop to the ground at yer ankles. Let me look at you—here on m’mountain.” He stepped back to watch the show.

She eyed him saucily and did what he asked but asked, “And how many others have you brought here …?”

His nose formed a sneer, but it was one of passion. “No other, lass—ye be the first, and ye be the last …”

His eyes devoured her, and then he brought her in for that kiss that took and gave as his velvet tongue tangoed with hers. Tasting him sent her over the edge of passion. He was delicious. His words were thrilling. His touch sent shivers of lust through her. She wanted the moment to go on forever, but she was hungry for more of him, more moments.

He broke away from his kiss and held her naked, trim waist with his hands. His voice was low and husky as he murmured, “Now these lace things …” he pulled at her black lace thong. “Throw it aside … slowly. I don’t want anything covering that pretty little flaming nest of yers …” As he spoke he blinked off his clothes and stood in his sandals with his cock at attention and dripping with anticipation.

He is so damn sexy
, she thought as she licked her lips and bent to remove the lace. Suddenly, and before she could finish, he turned feral and wild, taking the thong from her and flinging it aside with a low, hungry sound in his throat.

He went to his knees, and his eyes were dark with desire as he looked up and cupped her breasts. He was primal … she responded in kind and did a little grind towards his face. He grabbed her butt with one large hand, and with the other he dove a finger into the cleft between her thighs and played there until she squirmed with pleasure. Just as she thought she would explode, he withdrew his finger and began nibbling and licking, suckling at her lips and nub, and then she called out his name as he brought her to a rocketing explosion.