She adored both her sisters-by-marriage. But…she wanted Xander to speak of her with such feeling. Or…more.
Is that magic, too?
Janet shivered.
Was she jealous of the Fae princess because Xander cared for her?
Perhaps a little, if she was honest.
“I had a particularly bad day, and my cousin wanted to make me feel better, actually. So we went exploring. Alana wanted to know why most Fae despise this place. We found the cave and the hot springs.”
Janet couldn’t look away. Xander had never spoken of himself in her presence, and she craved to hear something of his past. Of his childhood. “What happened?” she whispered.
One look told her he’d understood that Janet hadn’t referred to the discovery of the cave, but what had happened to cause his horrible day.
His eyes clouded, as if he just realized what he’d said. He averted his gaze. “Just eat. No reason to drudge up old memories.”
She reached for him. Janet couldn’t help it. Their gazes collided when she covered his hand with hers. Her heart jumped at the contact. “Please tell me. I want to hear abou’ you.”
The apple of his throat bobbed, but he nodded. However, he looked away again. Wouldn’t meet her eyes, even when she tugged on his wrist.
He’s embarrassed.
Janet scooted closer to him, the food on her lap forgotten.
“My mother was a Fae princess. The king never forgave his sister for sneaking off and marrying my father, the
winged
captain of his guard. It
broke
her, especially since King Fillan forgave my father before I was born. I didn’t see much of her as a lad. She turned to smoking Acana root when I was wee, so when I did see her, most of the time she was in a haze. Not sure she knew it was me.”
“What’s Acana root?”
“Remember the maroon barked trees?”
“Aye.” Janet entwined her fingers with his.
His pale locks dropped over his eyes, and she wanted to tilt his face up, brush his hair off his forehead, but she kept her hands to herself.
She could see the mating bond, but there was a blue glow hovering above the golden radiance of it. She felt odd, like a weight rested on her chest.
Xander’s sadness.
I can
feel
it.
Janet moved even closer to him, until her shoulder brushed his chest. She wanted to throw her arms around him, but didn’t. His bare skin against her the sleeve of her chemise would have to be enough for now.
“The Acana tree has healing properties. When used properly it aids healing magic as a sedative, but it’s abused all over the realm. My mother was a healer, before she was mired by her selfishness.” Now his voice was bitter.
“I was about four and ten. So proud of myself because I’d mastered the obstacle course faster than any of my training mates. Even my father was proud of me. He’d
said
so. The first praise in longer than I could remember. I rushed to my mother’s rooms; I had to tell her. I found her on the floor.
Unconscious.
Close to death, actually. I called the healers. They arrived with my father. He kept muttering how Acana root addiction was weak and dishonored him. I made a vow never to dishonor him that day. I didn’t want him to look at
me
like that. Alana took me away afterward. As she often did after an
experience
with either of my parents.”
Janet’s heart ached. She could feel his mixed emotions toward both his parents, as well as his overwhelming regret. Her vision blurred. “Xander.”
He laughed, but it had a bitter edge. If he’d heard her whisper his name, he didn’t acknowledge it. “I dishonored him anyway, following Alana to the Realm of the Humans...cutting off my warrior braid.”
“Xander.”
Her fated husband finally met her eyes. His expression shifted from angry to concerned. “Oh, lass, don’t shed tears for me.”
Janet leaned in, pressing her lips to his.
Xander wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer, meeting her kiss. She groaned when he invaded her mouth, but wrapped her tongue around his instead of pulling away. Her breasts flattened to his chest and she snaked her arms around his neck.
He kissed her until she melted into him.
Heat spread all over her body, settling low in her belly. Her core throbbed and pulsed, every sensation more excruciating than when he’d healed her ankle.
Her chemise was mostly dry now, but the light fabric was encumbering, weighty, and made it hard to breathe. Janet panted against him, clutching at his bare shoulders.
“Lass, you make me lose control.” Xander’s voice was thicker, deeper than normal. He rested his forehead against hers. His breathing was rough, and his chest heaved against hers.
“I’m sorry,” Janet whispered.
He lifted his head, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t be.” Even the smirk he wore was beautiful, and it did funny things to her already overheated insides. “Are you innocent?”
Fire licked her face for a different reason than his mouth moving over hers. “Aye.”
Xander nodded, the look in his violet eyes so tender, Janet wanted to melt all over again. “I’d assumed so.”
“Did I no’ please you?” She looked down. If he said she was too forward, or worse, didn’t make him feel what he made
her
feel, Janet didn’t know what she would do.
The idea…
hurt.
When he chuckled, her stomach somersaulted. “Aye, you please me. I was going to apologize for being so rough.”
“Oh.” It took all she was made of not too look away again. “You werna’ rough.”
He smiled and hugged her close.
Janet closed her eyes against his shoulder, her whole body still thrumming. “I’m sorry abou’ your mother.”
“Thank you,” Xander whispered. “Sorry to make you sad…”
“You didna’. I mean, I was upset
for
you,” she whispered.
“I know. I could feel it. Our bond is deepening.” He smiled, and it was full of that same tenderness. Heat. Promise.
She trembled against his warmth. “Already?” Janet asked.
“Aye, it seems so.”
Her heart flipped.
Is it wrong to hope for more?
She’d been so determined that magic wouldn’t decide this for her.
Had something changed?
Janet ignored the questions she was too afraid to answer. She buried her face against Xander’s chest, letting him hold her, reveling in his body, his warmth.
He’d keep her safe, get her home.
She’d worry about the rest later.
Leaving her was harder than he’d imagined. His body was tight, and Xander was shaking all over; even his wings trembled of their own accord.
If he closed his eyes, all he could see were her sapphire ones.
So much trust.
He swallowed hard and squared his shoulders, wishing he could cover Janet and the cave area in a protection spell.
“Damn it all,” Xander whispered, clutching his fists at his sides.
He pushed off the ledge outside the cave, pumping his wings. They ached from disuse, but he ignored the discomfort and rose higher into the night, whispering a masking spell that would leave him undetectable to
most
Fae Warriors.
Xander added his invisibility spell, praying to the gods he’d get the information he needed and return to his mate unscathed—and quickly, as he’d promised her.
If King Fillan had Fae mages and wizards scrying for them, at least Janet would be safe in the cave. The mating bond shouldn’t contain discernable magic on its own, so even without a protection spell, she was likely hidden enough. Although her human blood would be sensed if they searched hard. That he could do nothing about, except pray the mating bond disguised her in some way. Alana had been right to doubt that when he’d mentioned it, but he could pray, could he not?
Both his spells would be detectable by any mage worth his or her salt—as all mages and wizards in the king’s menagerie were.
Nay. I can’t despair.
Xander blocked worry and the danger enshrouding him. He’d been in risky, even dire, situations before. He would endure, and do what he needed to do to protect Janet.
I have no choice.
He’d made vows to his fated wife and his cousin.
Promises he
would
keep.
Xander had waited until she’d fallen asleep to leave their cavern. The day had fatigued them both, so he hadn’t had long to wait. When Janet’s belly was full of the meat and bread he’d brought, his lovely bride had fallen asleep in his arms. He’d lain her on the plush Fae bed and kissed her softly. His chest had ached as he’d forced one booted foot in front of the other on the way out of the cavern.
Knowledge was the only thing that would get them home safely, but leaving her vulnerable when she had no magic was almost as bad as taking her with him.
No
.
His gut told him he was doing the right thing. If he had to fight when he got to the Faery Stones, she’d be in more danger than at the falls. And a part of him still didn’t want her to witness him at battle again, possibly killing.
He, too, was tired, and Xander fought the exhaustion threatening as he flew back to the forest and grassy knoll his people called the Field of Light.
An idea bloomed as he soared on a thermal like he had earlier in the day. He spread his arms and sucked clean warm air into his lungs. It was refreshing, despite his dark thoughts.
If he was forced to kill whatever guard was present at the Faery Stones, perhaps his uncle would think he’d done so to escape. Xander didn’t enjoy killing, nor was he keen on taking the life of one or more of his former brothers, but he could rule nothing out.
It could gain us some time.
Torches were visible as he neared the area, but the soft breeze had no effect on the source of light, as they were the same magic globes he’d called into the cave. The Faery Stones rested dormant on their platform. A large Acana tree was rooted not ten feet from the place and hung tall overhead, partially obscuring his view. Branches with their pale pink leaves swayed in the warm night air.
Xander slowed his hard pace, landing not far from the dais, on the same side he’d pulled Janet to her feet and into his arms. Voices carried, but he couldn’t make anything specific out.
A bonfire was lit, making the wide section of the terrain like daylight.
His uncle hadn’t doubled the guard.
He’d tripled it.
Nine winged Fae Warriors.
Two on the dais, standing at attention on opposite sides of the Faery Stones.
Two on the ground, close enough to touch the dais.
Two more patrolled the perimeter, marching side by side, boots cutting through the orange grass.
The other three either stood or marched further out in the Field of Light.
Xander didn’t recognize all of them, but he did spot Mikhias and Ruark as the closest patrolling pair. Neither of his former brethren he’d battled with that morning looked worse for the wear.
He muttered his invisibility spell again just for good measure, though none of the Fae Warriors seemed to notice his presence.
Good.
Being able to fight well didn’t necessarily mean they were gifted with much magic, which was to Xander’s favor. If he could watch them interact, perhaps hear them talk, he wouldn’t have to snatch one and compel answers out of him.
“Ye should’ve killed the traitor when ye had the chance,” Ruark barked at Mikhias as they circled the dais. The redheaded warrior scowled at his companion.
“You could’ve done so yourself, just as well,” Mikhias returned, narrowing his eyes. He shoved his long dark plait over his shoulder, then rested a hand on the hilt of his sword.
“Ye know as well as I the blast-spell was unexpected.”
Xander straightened his back, fighting his instinct to duck behind the dais as they looped around, passing within several feet of him. They couldn’t see him. He needed to trust his spell. Besides, invisibility didn’t always mean they couldn’t
hear
him. Sometimes a keen ear could sense what was concealed by magic.
Ruark gave the warriors on the ground a nod, and the one on the right—a fair-haired soldier Xander didn’t know—returned the gesture.
“Tis yer fault we’re stuck out here at all hours,” Ruark growled. “Circling as if we’re fledglings on our first tour.” Humiliation saturated his voice.
Mikhias’s answer was unintelligible as the pair’s foot patrol went wide, but Xander had heard his uncle’s name in the sentence, as well as a few Fae curses. He strained his ears, but could catch nothing more.
Bollocks.
The again, the two warriors were griping, not really sharing any pertinent information.
Ruark had been in his training classes as a lad, as they were of an age, and Xander had never cared for the impulsive Fae man. However, his younger friend Mikhias was the more dangerous of the two. Rumors among the castle guard said he had a heavy hand with servants and a reputation as rapist to any woman who dared to tell him no.
Xander frowned. He’d never been witness anything untoward, since he’d served his duties at Alana’s side, as her personal bodyguard, but he’d never been fond of womanizers or abusers.
Female Fae were usually amenable to a man who approached her in the correct manner, so it wasn’t necessary. It wasn’t uncommon for most Fae—of any class or caste—to take several lovers before marrying. Once a Fae was wed—fated or chosen—monogamy was expected, unless both parties were acceptable to a third—or more—lover sharing the marriage bed.
Not in
my
marriage bed.
He’d never been possessive, but the idea of another man—Fae or human—touching Janet made Xander want to stab something.
No one
else
will touch her
.
Ever.
Xander shook his head He needed to focus on the task at hand, keep his thoughts off his lass for now. He’d return to her side soon enough. Hopefully she’d be asleep and none the wiser. He hadn’t liked the panic in those blue eyes.
Silently drawing his sword, he studied the warriors on the dais, then the two standing guard on the ground. The others were all far enough away, but he couldn’t snatch one inconspicuously, nor were they standing close enough for a stunning spell to take them all out at once.