Heart of the Forest (Arwn's Gift Book 1) (29 page)

Read Heart of the Forest (Arwn's Gift Book 1) Online

Authors: Christina Quinn

Tags: #Fantasy

BOOK: Heart of the Forest (Arwn's Gift Book 1)
2.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Dduwiau'r,” Aneurin moaned in my ear.
Gods
. I could hear the soft hiss of breath as Islwyn came up behind him. I was aware of what was happening as those hands I knew best trembled against my hips as Islwyn worked his way into his sovereign. My feet curled in the air as Yorwrath held me against him and I swam on that cloud of lust. My body grew hotter with pleasure with every passing moment. It was the spell. I knew my body well enough to know that I should have climaxed long ago. Digging my fingers into Yorwrath’s shoulders, I felt something other than pleasure start to build within me. I had no other word for it than “power.” It crackled like ball lightning low in my body with every kiss Aneurin left on my shoulder and Yorwrath left on my lips.

That power within me demanded Islwyn, and the liquor—mixed with smoke from the censer—concurred. Our bodies glistened with sweat in the moonlight, making the three elves shine almost silver in that dull blue light. Aneurin suddenly stilled and tensed as Islwyn withdrew from him and retreated to the altar where he grabbed a small glass carafe filled with that old glittering oil. Returning he poured some of it onto his phallus until the pale pink flesh shone with that thick oil. He passed the carafe to Yorwrath, who withdrew from me and set me on my feet as Aneurin continued his thrusts behind me. The change of angle made a moan break from my lips as he picked up speed, but, no matter what he did, neither of us could pass over the edge.

After a few moments, Aneurin stopped and kissed my hair as he remained sheathed in my body. However, Yorwrath had my attention. The straining flesh between his thighs actually twitched and throbbed as he coated it in that sparkling oil. Locking his gaze with mine, he held my attention hostage as Aneurin kissed my hair and withdrew from me, coaxing a shudder from my body. Standing alone, I trembled with sexual frustration as the three of them continued to coat themselves in the oil.

“Why—”

“So we don’t hurt you,” Aneurin answered, and for a moment I saw that love back in his eyes, and it almost was enough to pull me from the haze of intoxication.

“How would you hur—”

“You’ll see,” Yorwrath rumbled, cutting me off.

“Remember that whore you brought for us?” Islwyn said as he took a step toward me. I vaguely recalled the girl in the middle of a tangle of limbs with four elves somehow buried in her. Were I not under the sway of the spell, perhaps I would have been apprehensive about such an undertaking. However, with the spell and the liquor and the smoke the thought of taking the three of them at once just made me bite my bottom lip and purr softly to myself.

Aneurin lay back on the altar, and I crawled over him, leaving a trail of kisses up to his torso that caused his stomach to flutter as he drew ragged slow breaths. Islwyn was beside us, standing on the altar and petting my back, urging me to kiss Aneurin, which I did. The kiss was so familiar—was he really back? The thought was pushed from my head entirely as Yorwrath jumped up onto the altar and sat behind me on top of Aneurin’s legs. With one hand on my hips and the other holding their thick throbbing phalluses together, Yorwrath positioned them at the entrance to my sex and gently urged me down. That oil made the sensation of being so absolutely stuffed incredibly pleasurable. My mind was clear of thought, like a field after a fresh snow. I was the one who set the pace, my hips slowly rising and falling as I inched more and more of them into me. And when I finally sheathed those two powerful elves within my folds, my pulsing, greedy, sopping wet nethers, a single word escaped my lips.

“Fuck!” I moaned in delight as my body practically milked those two throbbing phalluses. After a few moments of stillness, I started moving again, coaxing wild noises from the throats of my lovers. Even though my body was trembling almost violently, I felt oddly powerful, and I couldn’t stop smirking at the realization that they were mine. I wasn’t anyone’s concubine. Instead, I had my own little collection. I glanced back at Yorwrath, and he fixed those molten orbs on me. Even in such rapt lust his face still managed to be grim. He stared at me through half-narrowed lids with his lips set in a small line.

“Mm, you love feeling your cunt stretched out by elf cock. Don’t you, Dy’ne?” Yorwrath gnarred to me through his moans.

“Yorwrath!” Aneurin barked, and I snapped my head back around. When I saw that recognition fully back, and that bicolored gaze staring at me with that same passion as before, I almost cried. Our hands laced together, and I leaned forward and kissed him hard on the mouth as I continued to practically dance in their laps.

Then I felt two more hands on my hips and felt lips on my neck as I was eased forward. Islwyn was positioning himself behind me as he knelt over Yorwrath, who was muttering to himself. Stilling my hips, I waited with bated breath as Islwyn once more thrust into my bottom. The added pressure made me freeze in stillness even as Islwyn continued with those soft caressing kisses across my throat. The moment I felt Islwyn’s hips against the curve of my ass the pleasure just exploded. And as that unexpected delicious sensation tore through me I heard the others gasp as their erections twitched within me, filling me with their seed and sating that ball lightning that seemed to crackle low in my belly. Islwyn wrapped his arms around me and gnarled in my ear as Aneurin’s hands tightened around mine and Yorwrath dug his fingertips into the skin at my hips. It was in short, an incredible sensation.

Afterward, we all lay in a heap as that crackling power traced over us. I don’t know if they felt it but I did—everything tingled. Aneurin and I stared deep into each other’s eyes, and those lips pulled into that sweet smile that I had missed so much in the last few weeks. He reached out and touched my face, caressing along my jaw. I didn’t even notice Yorwrath moving to lie behind me until I felt his hand on my hip.

“Hello,” Aneurin whispered with a tiny smile. Reaching up I rested my hand over his stroking fingers.

“Hello.” I grinned back. He swallowed and tears formed at the corners of those incredible, mismatched eyes. He pressed his forehead to mine and sighed softly.

“I missed you. I don’t know how long this will last but—”

“I missed you too, but shh.”

“No, Valentina. I have to say this now because I don’t know how much longer I’ll be me.”

“We fixed it; that was the entire point of the ritual.”

“Even now I can feel myself being pulled at—it’s the oddest sensation.” He threaded his fingers back through my hair, his nails lightly scratching my scalp as he calmed my trembling. “I love you and I want you to be happy. Unfortunately, that means…” he swallowed again.

“Shh, don’t say it.”

“I have to say it because I don’t know if I’ll get a chance again to say it.” He took my hands and kissed my palms, running his nose over my life line. “I’m sorry. I was foolish, and because of my foolishness we won’t get to have the life together that I wanted.” He took a slow breath and raised his gaze to mine. “I’m not even certain we’ll have another moment like this.”

“We will.”

“I’d like us to, but…” He furrowed his brows for a moment. “It’s getting harder to maintain control. Be happy, Valentina… my wife. Even if that means moving far away. Even if it means I never glimpse you again in my moments of clarity, even if you find love in the arms of another… Be happy. And know that I will never ever love anyone as much as I love you. Regardless of what the power has me do. I am yours, Wife.”

“I’ll find a way.”

“My fate is my fate. If I hadn’t spent so much of life running from it, perhaps things would have been different. But I probably would never have met you and even with everything… I’m glad we’ve had the time we did.”

“This isn’t it for us.”

“Valentina.”

“Aneurin. This. Isn’t. It.”

“I love you.”

He kissed my lips again and caressed my jaw, but he didn’t say any more. He just held me. We lay in silence, listening to each other breathe, until the dawn came and those irises changed again. Then I stared at him, and he stared back at me, and there was desire, and there was recognition, but I knew it wasn’t my Aneurin anymore.

“I fucking hate you.” I hissed to that face I loved and the stranger lurking in his eyes.

“You don’t. You only think you do.” He dropped his hand from my cheek. “There will come a time when you’ll yearn for my touch the same as his.”

“I doubt that. I will lock you away again,” I whispered before I slowly pulled myself off the altar.

“You’re mortal, Dy’ne. This body…his mind, they’re both far less fragile than you are for the time being. You’ll wither and die long before he gains enough strength to surface again. And in the meantime…there will be a war to fight. Time will bend you to me, you’ll see.”

“Don’t hold your breath.” I stood and walked on shaky legs away from the pile of elves. Yorwrath and Islwyn were clearly unconscious. Their bodies were limp and almost lifeless save for the rise and fall of their chests. My gaze lingered on them for a moment. I couldn’t bear to look upon Aneurin—or rather, the Swynwr in his body.

* * * *

The midday sun made that little room with its soft feather bed almost unbearably bright. Caoilfionn opened the door, all silver and light as always, carrying a small tray of food piled with bread and cheese and a few hunks of cured meat. He set the tray down beside me and then sat on the bed next to it, fussing with those white robes. His delicate pink mouth was turned in a deep frown.

“I failed you.” he whispered, the sound drenched in sorrow.

“Not entirely.” I sighed and pulled the warm furs higher up my chest.

“Any soreness?”

“No, none at all, surprisingly enough.”

“Good, I didn’t want you to hurt. Did it do anything?”

“He was there for an hour or so. Thank you for that.” I offered him a small smile, and in exchange he nodded. Then unexpectedly he placed his hand on my shoulder and gazed deep into my eyes.

“I won’t rest until he’s back with you.” I could hear every nuance of his voice, every sound that pink tongue licked over. He was putting magic behind his words, sealing his promise to me.

“Caoilfionn, it’s… it’s okay,” I looked down at the platter and tore a small piece of bread off and rolled it between my fingers.

“They’re leaving tomorrow, though you can linger here longer if you wish it. I do not want to press you to leave so soon after…” As he grew silent, I shook my head.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Well, I’ll gather the books, provisions, and rare herbs for the journey. If you need anything I’ll more than likely be in the apothecary.” He stood and straightened his robes before turning to face me. His gaze lingered, still heavy with guilt, before he left the room, the door squeaking after him.

Food was the furthest thing from my mind, but I forced myself to pick at the small plate Caoilfionn had put together. I was halfway finished with the bread when I noticed that underneath it was a folded piece of vellum. It was a manuscript page. That much was clear from my unfolding it. This, however, wasn’t a page from some exhaustive herbal, but instead from some long boring treatise on magical sabotage. My brows knit as I read the page. Caoilfionn was all but saying that he thought Islwyn sabotaged the ritual. The page spoke at length in its tiny writing about druids meddling to keep the Swynwr in power. Grumbling, I folded the parchment back up and stood. There wasn’t even the hint of soreness as I walked over to my clothes, which were folded neatly and placed in a pile. I dressed and tucked the vellum neatly into my bodice, and then I opened the door.

On the other side stood Aneurin, or rather his body. He was reaching for the door just as I pulled it open. We stared at each other for a handful of moments in utter silence. Stepping into the room, he closed the door behind him, not giving me the chance to slip out. Crossing my arms, I glared at him.

“I remember—”

“But you’re not him, you made that very clear last night.”

“You remember?”

“Yes, I remember all of it.” I reached for the door, and he leaned against it. “I’m leaving tomorrow and then when you all head back to camp and plan your attack on Dryslwyn Tanllyd I’ll leave for good. You won’t have to worry about me ever again.”

“Just because he’s not the dominant personality anymore doesn’t mean he’s completely gone. As I stand now I am not just his body, I have his memories too, Valentina. I remember the first night in the garden. The scent of your skin mixed with rain, the tightness of your body. I can even recall that month spent in your care two years ago.”

“This is quite the change from last night.” I narrowed my eyes in suspicion.

“Last night we had yet to come to terms with you. We have never loved, Valentina. None of us…ever. Except your Aneurin. As time passes we grow in power. To all others, it will seem as though Aneurin has simply become the elf everyone wanted him to be. It’s supposed to be that way. This love for you should have melted away by now. We already view Yorwrath as just another elf, unlike Aneurin’s hero worship of his older brother.”

“And Islwyn?”

“Islwyn is a druid and our guide. It goes without saying that we have an affinity for him.”

“The same as before?”

“If you’re implying the sexual favors he and Aneurin often exchanged, yes.”

“And you…all of you have no problems with this?”

“No, why would we? It’s deeply engrained in our warrior culture. Squires for centuries have serviced the needs of their knights.”
I’m going to kill Islwyn.
I had to fight hard to keep my face neutral, but somehow I managed. “If you find such a thing distasteful we will stop, if you are open to sating our needs instead.”

“Oh, there’s no need for that. Your needs are no concern of mine.”

“But am I not your husband, Wife? I can recall that day now, under the massive oak trees, on top of the dais above our crypts. Your irises were almost gray in the muted daylight. We had never been happier in that moment. Never experienced such joy as that first moment we could call you ‘wife.’”

“You’re not him. You might have his memories, but the way you speak makes it abundantly clear…you’re not my Aneurin. He’s buried deep within you, and you’re purposefully keeping him from me. And that is why I hate you. That is why I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about how you feel when you think of me. Now get out of my way.”

Other books

Les Standiford by The Man Who Invented Christmas: Charles Dickens's
Daughter of Darkness by V.C. Andrews
Shakespeare's Wife by Germaine Greer
Last Writes by Catherine Aird
Privateers by Ben Bova
Body and Bread by Nan Cuba
Reprisal by Colin T. Nelson