The Fae Ring (2 page)

The sea was as stormy as her expression this morning.

Xander adjusted the sword at his waist and rested his booted foot on a boulder. He couldn’t tear his eyes from the lass. Didn’t need his cousin Alana’s empathic magic to know how Lady Janet was feeling.

The question was:
why?

The sister to the Laird of the MacLeods—his cousin’s husband—was usually jovial. Rarely seen without a smile. Lady Janet was take-charge and strong, as well as beautiful. Her dark hair only made her sapphire eyes more obvious.

Instinct told him to go to her. Make her smile.

Odd. Where’s that coming from?

Xander squared his shoulders and shook his head, turning toward the great castle looming in the distance behind him.

Nothing was amiss at Dunvegan.

His current location prevented him from hearing the clash of swords, but the MacLeods were training in the bailey. He’d watched for a while, but Duncan and Alex MacLeod had their men under control, instructing, sparring, and taking bets as men did.

Xander clenched his jaw. He’d been sworn to protect Alana for life. He and the princess—
former
princess now—had been linked.

But where was his place here?

She didn’t need his fighting skills. Her husband was strong—physically as well as in his position as laird. He had plenty of men—kinsmen and men-at-arms—to defend his family and castle.

Not to mention the laird’s twin brother, Duncan. The man acted as Alex’s second in everything. Captained the men who fought for them as well.

Besides, without Xander’s wings and with his diminished magic, what good was he?

Awareness washed over him and he glanced back down to the beach. Lady Janet still studied the crashing waters in the bitter chill, but she’d been looking at him. His gut told him so, even if she was not at the moment.

He watched her skirts whip around her legs. The plaid around her slipped from one shoulder, but she made no move to grab and wrap it around herself.

Xander frowned. If it weren’t Lady Janet before him, he would’ve been able to pick up her thoughts. For some reason, she was the only human he couldn’t read. Mind reading was his only magic that wasn’t affected in the Human Realm.

Unfortunately.

Humans didn’t have the ability to consciously hide their thoughts, so the conversations in his head were constant.

Torture.

Spending time with Alana and Angus was the only peace he had. Alana helped center him, and could cast a spell to help him deal with it, but Xander wouldn’t ask that of her again. He’d needed her magic for the first few weeks in the Human Realm, but no more.

He was strong. Needed to adapt.

Xander’s lot in life had been chosen from the moment he’d accompanied Alana. He’d cut his warrior braid and sealed his fate.

He’d remain with humans for the rest of his long life.

Most Fae were not immortal, but they lived two—sometimes even three—times longer than humans.

It wasn’t known if being away from the Fae Realm for extended time would change that.

Only time will tell.

He was more than his magic, he knew that well, but he couldn’t help but envy his cousin and her lad. Alana’s royal blood gifted her with powers he couldn’t even fathom. Her magic was varied and concentrated, and not affected in this realm. Angus, being half human, had less than his mother, but every day he was coming into his powers more.

Xander had been a fool to take magic for granted.

When the wind carried what sounded like a sob to his ears, he locked his gaze onto Lady Janet.

The lass is crying?

He startled when his wings didn’t respond, destroying his intention to glide down to the beach. His spine tingled and no magic responded.

Gods, you should be used to that by now.

Xander shook his head.

It doesn’t matter.

He wanted—no,
needed
—to make Lady Janet feel better.

Xander didn’t question the urge.

His jump down to the rocks and sand wasn’t with as much finesse as he would’ve liked, but he felt her gaze before he met it.

She didn’t smile, and for some reason, his heart stuttered.

He needed to see the curve of her full mouth.

Despite living in the same place for the past six months, he didn’t know her well—hardly at all, in fact. She was sister-by-marriage to his cousin, and a lady.

Xander kept an appropriate distance. As he would have from a Fae of her station had he still been home. His rank amongst the warriors had been high, but still not the same class as a noble. His mother had been a princess—until she’d married his father, the
winged
captain of the King’s Royal Guard.

His father had his own prestige of course, but King Fillan had not wanted him as a match for his sister. They’d married in secret and bound themselves in magic as well as love. It couldn’t have been torn asunder without either—or both—of their deaths.

Because of his value to King Fillan, Xander’s father had been forgiven—eventually.

His mother never was.

The king did not consider him nephew, only warrior. And had used him as such.

Alana had never obeyed her father, and had always kept Xander close. As children, caretakers gave up on trying to keep them apart. The princess wouldn’t mind governess or magic tutor. The queen had never fought to separate them, so Xander had been permitted the same lessons as Alana.

Childhood memories flitted through his head.

Home had changed.

Home was now the Human Realm.

Home
was with the MacLeods.

Don’t think of what is lost.

Janet was no longer looking his way as he approached.

Xander lifted the plaid that’d slipped off her shoulder and wrapped her in it. He watched his hand as if it were not his own. He’d never reached out to her before.

Big blue eyes met his gaze and she wiped her cheeks. “Thank you, Sir Xander, but that’s no’ necessary.” Lady Janet’s voice was thick and laced with sadness.

His stomach fluttered but he forced a shake of his head. “I don’t want you to get cold, lass.”

One corner of her mouth shot up. Her dark locks whipped around her beautiful face and it took all he was made of not to touch her, tuck her hair behind her ear.

Her cheeks were flushed from the chill, but tears were no longer streaming down. “I’m fine, but thank you, Sir Xander.”

“Just Xander.” His voice cracked, so he cleared his throat. He wasn’t a knight in the Realm of the Humans.

She nodded.

Xander stared at her mouth, although he chided himself for it. He couldn’t hear Lady Janet’s thoughts. Calm washed over him as if she’d cast some sort of spell. Because of his gift, wondering what someone was thinking was uncommon, but definitely not an unwelcome change.

If this lass was like Alana and Angus, he should spend
more
time with her.

Peace.

Xander wanted peace.

He’d been lacking it since coming to the Isle of Skye.

“Are you all righ’?” Her voice jolted him.

Xander straightened his shoulders. “You’re crying, yet you’re asking me if something’s wrong? I should ask the same of you, my lady.”

A bitter laugh greeted his ears, and Lady Janet shook her head. “I beg of you, please doona’.” She blushed and looked away.

He frowned and again fought the urge to touch her. “As you wish.”

Lady Janet’s head shot up, her sapphire eyes wide. “Tha’s it?”

He cocked his head to one side. “What?”

“You won’t…push me…like they do?” She gestured to the far-off castle.

“Nay.” Xander shook his head. “I just want to see you smile.”

Silence fell. His honesty had shocked them both. He squared his shoulders and shifted on his feet.

Why did I say that?

“I shall try.” Lady Janet’s voice was low, belying her words.

Xander reached for her hand; he couldn’t help it.

She didn’t pull away. Her eyes locked onto his face.

His pulse thundered in his ears. Something was burning his thigh through the pocket of his trews.

The ring.

Without releasing the lass, Xander dug in his pocket. A sense of rightness washed over him when his fingertips connected with the body-warmed Fae-forged metal.

He slid the bauble that his father’s mother had given him as a child onto Lady Janet’s ring finger.

She glanced at the ring, then back up at him.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that.” His words were breathless as his heartbeat kicked up a notch. “You can take it off.”

The black stone was oval and large, but the ring looked as if it belonged on her hand. Xander had always assumed it was made of onyx. He couldn’t tear his gaze away. His spine tingled, and his head spun.

She lifted her hand from his and stared down at the piece of jewelry.

Then the stone flared orange. It melted into red, pulsating and glowing.

Magic made his body burn. Desire hit him in the gut and slid over him. An erection pushed against the fabric of his breeches.

What in five hells?

A grunt fell from his lips; he ached for her. Needed to hold her, kiss her. Take her.

Lady Janet panted, her breasts heaving in her navy blue corset.

Sweat broke out on Xander’s forehead despite the chill in the air.

The lass was suffering from the same condition, her face crimson and skin glowing from cheeks to neck, including the portion of her delicate collar bones he could see through the neckline of her leine. The glow inched up her arms and shoulders, slowly enveloping her, then crept to his boots, enclosing them both in a large aura-like bubble.

It was as if he’d cast a spell, but Xander wasn’t in command of anything magical.

Alarm washed over him, but passion and drive won out when all he could see was the colors swirling around them both. It had swallowed them whole.

Xander didn’t fight the urge to pull her to him.

Lady Janet’s palms landed on his chest. Seared through his doublet.

Their gazes collided.

He lowered his head and took her mouth.

She didn’t fight him. Lady Janet stood tip-toed to return his kiss, twining her tongue with his and slipping her arms around his neck.

Xander groaned and hauled her closer, but tried not to crush her. Being Fae, he was much stronger. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—hurt her, even though his blood was singing in his ears. His temples throbbed as lust pounded its way through his form.

He was drowning in
her
. His mind shouted that he needed to regain control, even as his body and his magic needed more.

What the hell is happening?

Xander felt something wrap around them both. His senses spiked. He ripped his mouth off hers, though she was still in his arms, plastered to his chest. Magic surrounded them. Flowed
through
them.

A golden rope.

He could see it. Xander didn’t have to squint. There it was, glowing.
Pulsing.
Different colors flashed over and spun around them, but that rope didn’t waver.

He gasped, as did Lady Janet.

Can she see or sense it?

“What’s happenin’? Why…what…a rope?” Her words were breathless, fragmented.

“You can see that?”

She nodded, her hair shifting with the movement. Her sapphire eyes were wide, and he tried not to look at her kiss-swollen lips.

Xander released her as chaos reigned in his mind. Dizziness spun his head and his limbs shook. He locked his knees and sucked in air so he wouldn’t fall over—or pass out. “That’s a mating bond.”

“What?”

“In human terms…you and I just got married.”

She fled.

It can’t be.

His words
couldn’t
be true.

Sir Xander had stood as if transfixed. He’d broken their physical contact, and Janet could no longer see what had to be magic. No more colors. No more rope.

Words had breached his lips. Unbelievable words.

Mated.

Bonded.

Married?

Janet’s head reeled as the former Fae Warrior’s declaration ran through her mind too fast to comprehend.

Sand bled to rocks under her feet. She was suddenly glad she’d borrowed a pair of boots from the stores. Her slippers would’ve had her falling on her face at the speed she was going.

Janet hiked her skirts higher, her heart pounding in her ears.

She’d left him there.

Standing on the beach, his cheeks flushed, lips swollen from her mouth.

How can this be?

Repeating the question didn’t make it any clearer.

No magic answer entered her thoughts.

Magic.

She’d
seen
it. Swirling colors, a large bubble surrounding them, cutting them off from the beach. Something that looked like a woven rope had wrapped around her hips, around the Fae man’s, and then flowed
through
them both, even though she’d felt nothing.

Well, except for the hum in her whole body. Warmth encased her as sure as Xander’s arms around her, his solid chest against her breasts. It’d been as if she was bare, his heat melting the feeling of the stiff bodice.

It hadn’t been her first kiss, but a few stolen brushes of the miller’s son’s mouth against hers when she was a lass were nothing compared to how Xander had made her feel.

Janet had craved him. Craved more. She might be innocent, but she’d just learned what desire was.

The place between her legs still throbbed. Her thighs had trembled—her calves were still shaky. Janet fought the urge to collapse. She ran harder, until she darted through the gates, surprising her cousin Cormac, who stood guard.

He shouted after her, but Janet ignored him and kept going.

If Xander was in pursuit, she didn’t see him when she glanced over her shoulder, but she could
sense
him. As if he was beside her. Janet could feel his heart beating steadily. Like their bodies were still melded.

Is that magic, too?