A Hint of Frost: Araneae Nation ( Book One) (27 page)

Magic tripped up his spine. She blurred, became a human woman kneeling in the grass, clad only in a thin, flimsy shift that did little to conceal her body. “You demand nothing of me,” she agreed, lifting her chin. “It should be a relief.”

He ordered himself not to ask, for all the good it did. “Is it not a relief, sweet Kisri?”

“I wish it to be a relief.” She shivered, and the fabric clinging to her breasts couldn’t hide her tight nipples or the flush rising toward her neck. “I have never—” An awkward pause. “I liked boys. They would steal kisses, and I would slap their hands if they wandered too freely, and I was always in control. But I grew bored of boys.”

His hands moved of their own volition, stripping off his leather vest, and he could barely hear his own words over the blood pounding in his ears. “Men are not so easily controlled.”

“I know.” She didn’t seem alarmed by his actions. Anticipation sparked in her eyes, as did nervousness. “I enjoy my freedom. What man would take me without taking my independence? My
life
?”

He was the wrong man to ask. Plenty of soldiers had mates waiting for them to return from the battlefields now that the war was over, but Ennon had never even flirted with the idea. “I don’t know. The right man?”

Her eyes lit. “You don’t want a mate. You don’t need my fortune.”

“No.” The only thing he desired was to take her, make her cry out as he pleasured her with his tongue.

She fisted her hands and rested them on her thighs. “Perhaps we could come to an arrangement. If you found me appealing enough to bed, that is. I could…satisfy my curiosity about men. And you would be free to go your own way once you delivered me to my cousin.”

Malrion would murder him, pure and simple, and the knowledge didn’t stop him from considering her offer. “It’s a dangerous game to play, Kisri. If we were found out…”

“Then I’d be like every other noble woman who dared to take her pleasure into her own hands. I’d be no less valuable than I am now. It’s not my body that brings them to my door, touched or untouched.”

A convenient truth, one that made it too easy to step closer. What harm could it do? As she said, she would be fine, no worse for the wear. And Ennon could take care of himself, even if he had to brave Mal’s wrath. “Are you certain?”

She rocked to her feet. Her shift fluttered around her thighs, leaving her long, lean legs bare. “How can I be certain when I barely understand my own needs? I’m asking you to let me learn with you. Is it so different than any other type of sparring?”

She deserved the truth. “It could be exactly like that, and you should know how that can end.”

“With mating?” She tilted her head and studied him. “I’m aware of the risks. But I understand if you find them sufficient deterrent.”

“You’re the one who’s worried about her freedom. I can’t think of a worse hell than being mated to someone I could not have.”

She flinched a little, drawing in on herself. Backing away. “I don’t need you to fret over my heart or be gentle with my ego. If you don’t wish to bed me, for whatever reason, simply say so.”

The words startled him. “You think I’m talking about
you
?”

“I don’t know
what
you’re doing.” It was very close to a snarl, the anger not strong enough to hide the sting of rejection in her eyes. “I’m practically naked in front of you and all you care to do is talk. Even a virgin can tell that you don’t want to touch me. At least be man enough to admit it.”

“You’re mistaken.” Ennon kept a tight leash on his temper, and he gave her plenty of time to escape before dragging her close to his body, to his arousal. “Say it once more—that I don’t want to touch you. Say it with my cock pressed against your belly.”

Her breath came in short little hitches, and her head fell back, her eyes fluttering shut. “Your body wants me. It makes me float. I want to know how high I can fly.”

So many years at war had given him a highly developed sense for danger, and that’s exactly what she was. “I accept your proposition.”

Small but strong fingers curled around his arms. She stroked him, exploring, and eased her hands up. Her nails pricked his skin, and a sleepy smile curved her lips. “Play with me, Ennon. I don’t know the rules, but I’ve always been a most attentive student.”

“I believe it.” She might fumble, but she was eager, and that was the most pleasurable thing of all. “Would you like to kiss me?”

She was fast, limber. One hop and she had those legs wrapped around his hips, her arms around his neck. Her lips found his chin first, fluttering tiny little kisses along his jaw, her nose nuzzling his cheek. Then she licked the corner of his mouth and all but purred. “I like how you taste.”

Or perhaps she wouldn’t fumble at all. His cock throbbed as he wrapped his fingers around her bare thighs and captured her mouth, urging her lips apart.
Heaven.
He sipped her and hungered for more, insane when his mouth had not yet left hers.

Eager though her body was, her kiss was awkward. Curious. She licked at his tongue and shivered, a reaction impossible to miss with her body pressed to his. So easy to read her responses in her unashamed moans and eager squirming—easier when her shift rode up and her naked cunt pressed to his abdomen.

He groaned. She was wet already, and his head spun. He wanted to spill her to the ground, but he hadn’t laid out bedrolls or even started a fire. “Kisri.”

This time her nails dug into his shoulders. “What?”

He marveled at how calm he managed to sound. “We need to set up camp before we do this.”

Dark eyes studied him, the slightest hint of suspicion there, as if she anticipated a trick. “And then you will take me?”

If he tried to walk away, his traitorous body would root him to the spot. “Yes, I will take you.
My
way.”

“Your way?”

“My way.” He set her down and turned to his packs. She’d never known a man’s touch, much less the sweet way one could lose control. She would spit and scratch, fight the pleasure until she was ready to give in.

The thought weakened his knees, and he moved faster, hurriedly readying their camp.

The warrior in her was ready for anything. But she never saw him coming…

Riever’s Heart

© 2011 Renee Wildes

Guardians of Light, Book 5

Verdeen is on the brink becoming an elite warrior ranger until the ultimate humiliation—no war mare chooses her for advanced training. King Loren’s consolation prize isn’t much better. Journey to the Isle of Ice as bodyguard to a
human riever.
Daq Aryk. Barbarian. Prince of thieves.

Aryk dreams the impossible: unite six fractious clans into a peaceful nation. Failure means they are all doomed to kill each other off—and the nightmares of his son’s death by sword will come true. The new elven ambassador rouses his ire, not because she’s female, but because she’s inexperienced. Her possibly needless death weighs on his already overburdened soul. Her beauty is a distraction he can’t afford.

In a fragrant, moonlit garden, Verdeen dares yield to an irresistible compulsion to kiss the mortal riever. The heat shakes her to the core, and frees a desire that should occur but once in her life. With a mate.

As their quest twists down ever more dangerous paths, though, their bond is the asset that could assure peace…or the liability that could send a dream down in flames.

Warning: This tale illustrates what happens when adventurous dreamer meets seen-it-all cynic. Contains hot, no-holds-barred sex, voyeurism, and some self-loving. Also betrayal and some graphic (but never gratuitous) battle violence.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Riever’s Heart:

Verdeen paced through the lush gardens, letting the honey scent of night-blooming moonflowers soothe her. Their waxy ivory petals glowed in the lights. Thank the Lady goddess everyone seemed to be inside. The splashing of the wishing fountain drew her, and she emerged into a small clearing lit by pink mage light. She wasn’t the first to venture there. She froze at the intimidating figure staring into the shadowy ripples of water. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone was here—”

“Don’t go.” Aryk turned from the fountain and held out a sun-bronzed hand. “Stay.”

She eyed his hand, wary of his touch. “Daq Aryk, what are you doing out here?”

Was he following her?

“Just Aryk. I needed quiet.” He raked his hand through his hair. “I felt on display.”

She could relate to both parts of
that
statement, and unexpected sympathy welled for the stranger. As if of its own volition, her body moved closer to him. His eyes drew her gaze. Their intensity made her falter. “Why have you come here to Poshnari-Unai, my city?”

“To set my destiny in motion.” His lips quirked at her puzzlement. “
Stovak nos briel.
”

She cocked her head. “What does that mean?”

“‘Destiny awaits.’ Sounds grand and mysterious,
hai
?” He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “’Tisn’t. I’ve a political problem back home. Cianan thought Loren could help.”

Humans believed in the Destiny Hand? “Well, he’s very good at solving most problems. Everyone’s but mine.”

“Your eyes are red. You’ve been crying. Why?” He frowned, but she read genuine concern in his eyes. “Today you triumphed over everyone. I’ve never seen anything like it. You were amazing.”

“Really?” She cursed the tremor in her voice, the eager need for approval only too obvious even to herself.

His smile softened the harsh planes of his face and deepened the crinkles around his eyes, making him seem younger and less imposing. “
Hai
. Really. I’ve seen many a warrior in my lifetime. Believe me when I say you’re truly gifted, kyra. Smart, strong and beautiful. Poetry in motion.”

Something melted within her at the compliment. There was that word again, kyra, his husky tone almost making it an endearment.

“The one thing I wanted most in this world slipped through my fingers this afternoon,” she confessed. “A chance to be selected as a ranger trainee, to further my studies. It didn’t happen.” A tear slid down her cheek. She froze as he reached out to brush it away.

“There are many paths to greatness,” he told her. “A warrior’s greatest strength is the scope of his vision. You showed vision and judgment today, but take care lest your focus cause you to miss your true path. A warrior must above all be adaptable to change. The one thing that never changes is the fact that everything changes.”

Aryk held out his hand again, palm up, and Verdeen found herself reaching to take it. Big mistake. His thick, scarred fingers slid over hers in a caress which made her tingle in places not even remotely attached to her hand. She entwined her fingers with his to still them and bit her lip at the zing of awareness as his thumb brushed across the sensitive skin of her inner wrist. “Cease,” she whispered.

“Cease what?” His voice dropped to a smooth, dark seduction of lethal proportions. “This?” His fingers teased hers with long, light strokes. “Or this?” He rubbed gentle circles over her pulse, which hammered at his touch.

She should pull away but didn’t move. Couldn’t move. “This isn’t proper.”

Some rebellious part of her didn’t care.

“Do you always do what’s proper, kyra?”

She had to know. “What’s kyra mean?”

“’Tis a term for a woman warrior.”

Verdeen nodded. “We also have such a term, ancient and seldom used.
Vertenya
. Few exist in our world to carry such a title.”

According to Cianan, there were now but two—Queen Dara and herself.

Aryk slid closer, the heat from his body curling around her. “I answered your question. Now you answer mine.”

What was his question? If only she’d focused on his words instead of on the rich smoky warmth of his voice. Like crème rija pudding with honeyed brandy. Sheer decadence to make her melt.

“Do you always do what’s proper?”

Female in the military? It didn’t get any less proper; just ask her absent parents. Acourse, holding hands with a royal guest in a moonlit garden wasn’t exactly proper, either. Yet here she stood with her hand in his, close enough for his subtle, musky scent to push the fragrance of the flowers from her awareness. All she could think of was how she wanted to move closer yet. Dazed, she shook her head.

Heat flared in his changeable eyes. “They said this is a wishing fountain. If you make a wish and toss in a pebble, your wish comes true.”

“’Tis true. A legend as old as this city itself. There are faeries with the power to grant it, if the wish is personal and comes from the heart.”

Aryk uncurled his free hand, revealed a stone. With a flick, he tossed it over her shoulder.

Verdeen heard the splash.

“Guess what I wished for.”

“Your destiny would be fulfilled?”

“
Stovak nos briel.
Nay, what I wished for is more personal and out of my hands.”

“What’s that?”

Their gazes clashed, then locked. His eyes narrowed, darkened. “A kiss, freely given, from you.”

What? Her heart skipped a beat. She froze. That was it? Why waste the power of a wish on such a frivolous thing?

He must have read the disbelief on her face. “’Tis a rarer gift than you’d ken. But tonight, in this magical place, all things seem possible.”

They did. They truly did. She should’ve been angry or offended at his outrageous request. She should return to the party. Today had been emotional chaos. She felt raw, vulnerable, in its wake. Tonight, heart ruled mind. She nibbled her lower lip, undecided. Why? Mayhaps ’twas the moonlight, the seclusion of the garden setting. Who would know? Mayhaps ’twas his words, the understanding on his face. The heat in his eyes, the warmth of his hand.

Or mayhaps Cianan was right. Mayhaps the woman tired of the warrior having the say.

Verdeen stepped closer, as if he drew her in, and quivered as Aryk’s free hand came to rest on her hip. She reached up to run her thumb across the rough stubble on his cheek, along his jaw to the cleft in his chin, slid her free hand around his neck. Her fingers tangled in his tawny hair, unexpected softness on such a hard man. His hand tightened over hers, held it to his chest. Her heart pounded in her throat, part trepidation and part anticipation.