Trusted (30 page)

“Accusations?” He frowned.

“The day she came to table sorely abused she told me that it was you who had done the deed.”

Anger flashed hard in his eyes. “How did she dare?!” he thundered.

“I knew it was not true,” she comforted him. “I confess at first I did not know you well enough to know what to think, she had all the look of truth about her and it made no sense for her to make such a false accusation, but once you showed me the greenery…I knew that any hands that could wrought such beauty could never have wrought such pain.”

“Do not be so sure. She will be made to pay for that accusation…and for the attempt she made on our child’s life. Not to mention whatever part she played in your attempted assassination.”

“Xan said the assassin tried to intimate that Jesso was behind all of this. And that the attempt at our wedding was not meant for me but for you.”

“The assassin is a very good liar. But…he chose the wrong subject to lie about. I can confess to no moment of doubt whatsoever. Neither did Xan.”

“Will you spare his life?”

“Jesso’s? For now,” he said with a chuckle as she clicked her tongue a smacked him in the shoulder in reprimand. “The assassin? I do not think I will. His lies, his actions, his inactions…all almost led to the deaths of those I love best. Including myself. That is unforgivable. Not to mention Isobol’s murder.”

“Yes,” she said darkly, “he should me made to pay for that.”

“And he will be. With Tyron right beside him. For something tells me the arrogant ass will never confess to his crimes. He might rather die envisioning himself some sort of martyr.”

“He is too self-serving for that. He will confess,” she predicted.

“We will know shortly. I will not drag a trial out.” Garrick stood up and held out a hand to her. “Come with me, wife.”

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere we should have gone long before this,” he said. He led her out of his suite and down the stairs to the ballroom. He took her to the doors that led her to the terrace. It was night now, and it had begun to snow once more. The cold was biting even through the glass panes in the doors.

“I have been here before,” she said with a teasing smile.

“Indeed you have. As a woman.” Garrick opened the doors, letting in a blast of cold air. It washed over them sharply and Sarea shivered hard. “But I would see you as something else. I would see you in truform.”

Sarea gasped and then flushed. “Out here? I public? Women do not change to truform in public.”

“We are hardly in public,” Garrick said. “We are in the privacy of the castle grounds.”

“But night’s meal is taking place right across the hall!”

“Not tonight it isn’t. I have sent all of the court back to their own houses for the night. No one but you and I and the Trusted will be staying in the castle tonight.

“But what of the Trusted?”

“They are taking night’s meal in their living area. They are all there now happily feeding themselves and congratulating themselves on a day well done.”

“But the servants,” she protested.

“Have already seen you naked and you thought nothing of it then.”

“Fere and a few trusted others have seen me so,” she corrected hastily. “This is different.”

“You are queen. My wife. First lady of the realm,” he whispered into her ear. “You are allowed to do whatever you wish to do. And,” he said huskily, “I want to see my mate in her truform.”

“Perhaps we should wait until everyone is abed.” She said, turning to go back into the ballroom. He caught her arm and turned her into the warmth of his big body.

“The one true crime we have committed as a species, I have always felt, is that we make our women feel as if they should be ashamed of the beauty of their truforms. I do not hold to that way of thinking, and I do not want you to either.” He kissed her cheek. Then her lips. Then he drifted his mouth down the length of her neck. “Change for me,” he whispered into her sensitive skin.

Heat bloomed through her…but very little of it had anything to do with embarrassment…which she had always been told was what she should feel if asked to expose her truform. True, they were wed and it was proper for her to show her husband her truform, but he was asking her to do it publicly. But the way he was asking her was almost the way he would have asked her to make love in the hallway, which they had done already.

He reached for the laces of her dress and pulled the bow free. Then slowly he worked them loose until he could reach down and pull the gown over her body, letting it fall free to the floor. That left her standing in a heavy sura cotton slip meant to keep her warm.  He unlaced it as well then pulled it over her head, leaving her standing there naked in the cold.

Garrick watched as her nipples puckered from the cold and gooseflesh rippled over her skin. She shivered and he got hard. There was something about seeing her so vulnerable that excited him to no end. He watched as she unbound her hair, combing the twist free with her fingers, letting it sit wild about her shoulders. She had kept her word for him and had kept her hair bound everywhere except in the privacy of their chambers. So seeing her like this now was almost like a trigger, a notice to him that she was his for the taking once more.

“I’ve not changed since I was a child,” she said.

“You haven’t forgotten,” he said encouragingly.

“No. I haven’t. But what if—“

“Change, Sarea. Let other worries take care of themselves in their own time.”

She sighed and nodded, and then with a shake of her shoulders that caused her breasts to shimmy she lowered herself into a crouch. Suddenly she sprang forward into the snow on all fours, and by the second bound in the snow her skin and long limbs had rippled away into the streaking grace and speed of a winno ocelot. Small and built for quick instantly changing reflexes and speed, she was a beautiful golden color with swirling black spots that blended into inky whorls in places.

She bounded across the snow, skidding and playing, watching herself make paw prints in the crunchy whiteness. Then she dashed out into the darkness.

Realizing he was being left behind, Garrick quickly went about undressing. With a single leap he turned from man into black horta lion, chasing after his mate who could only be seen through her prints in the snow. He caught up to her, but only because she let him he was sure. She had speed on him by far because of her size and sleekness. He was fast, but not that fast. She bounced around him, like an excited child being let out to play at last. And he supposed that was exactly what she was. Free to play at last. Free to be in the form she was meant to be in. If he had daughters, he would not raise them to hide their truforms away from the world. He would raise them to be proud of them. Not just as children, but as young women as well. He felt Sarea would have a more conservative feeling about it, but he thought he might be able to sway her to his way of thinking.

She pounced on him, then sprang off of him and ran. Garrick chuffed, a lion’s laugh, his breath clouding on the air. He purred in pleasure to see her so happy, but when she pounced on him a second time and ran away, he gave chase. They sprinted through the well tamed gardens, down paths and along hedgerows. He caught up to her and tackled her, rolling her with care beneath his great weight and size. She squirmed to get free, but he bit down on her shoulder and pinned her in place. She was bent down on her front paws, her backside in the air. He could smell the heat on her, the excitement and the need. His lion’s cock grew hard and pronounced and he sought for her from behind. He thrust inside of her and she released a cat’s scream. She pressed back into him, meeting his thrusts as he took her with the savagery of an animal. When he came it was with a wild roar of pleasure.

He climbed off of her, concerned he had been too rough with her, but she rolled onto her back and put her paws playfully against his face and body. Comforted by her mood, he followed her when she headed back for the terrace and into the ballroom. Once indoors she shook herself, snow flying everywhere. Then she changed, back into the woman he loved, crouching on the floor on all fours and looking for all the world as if she had had the time of her life. Garrick changed as well, crossing the cold floor to take her in his arms. He grabbed her by her hair and held her head for a scorching kiss. Their naked bodies melded together, and Sarea was soft and relaxed in his hold.

“I was not too rough?” he asked, his voice rasping with rising need.

“No,” she said. Then shyly added, “Not nearly rough enough.”

Garrick growled at that, then kissed her brashly, his mouth devouring hers until neither of them could draw a clean breath. He pressed her down to the cold floor, then thought of her comfort and rolled them together so she was straddling his body and he lay on his back. She adhered herself to his skin and he was aware of the cold air coming in the open terrace doors.

“Let me close the doors,” he said to her.

“No. Just keep me warm,” she said.

That he could do. He kissed her mouth again and again, burning them up with his need for her. She was straddling his belly, so he could feel the heat of her against his skin. Wet heat. Perfect heat. He hooked an arm behind her knee and drew her up his body until she was straddling his chest…and then finally his head. He lifted his head to her, his tongue separating warm, wet folds and seeking her most sensitive flesh. She gasped, her fingers coming to bury themselves in his hair. He tongued her thoroughly, finding her clit and paying all kinds of attention to it. He heard her crying out, felt her thighs tensing around his head. He pressed onward, making her feel his presence every way he knew how. He was not satisfied until she launched into a screaming orgasm. Her hands desperately held him to her as she rode the waves of pleasure to their maximum.

Sarea wasn't even feeling the cold anymore. She was completely lax with a wonderful lassitude as her husband sat up and dumped her into his lap. Her legs automatically wrapped around his waist as he settled her against the ridged flesh of his erection. He took himself in hand, aimed his cockhead at her entrance and with a surge of his hips he put himself inside of her. She gasped at the hard feel of him, feeling her body adjust to his invasion quickly and eagerly. His hands went to her hips and he pulled her down onto him in a slow grinding of their hips.

Sarea drew her breath in a soundless gasp, and then exhaled on a moan of pure pleasure. She let him push and pull her hips, the position making him feel large inside of her. She gasped again as he stroked over that special place inside of her that made her feel unimaginable pleasure. Her head fell back, but then in the next instant she pulled it forward again so she could look into his eyes. And that was what they did. Stared hard into each other’s eyes as they gave each other extraordinary pleasure.

She came in rolling waves of ecstasy, cries of climax shuddering out of her. His slow and steady pace began to falter, began to speed up. He devolved into a more savage being, all the while looking hard into his wife’s eyes. Into her soul.

“Do you believe that I love you?” he demanded of her.

“Yes,” she breathed.

He thrust up harder into her.

“Do you?” he repeated.

“I do! Yes!”

She came again, shouting out, the cry echoing into the vast reaches of the ballroom ceiling.

“Do you believe that I love you?” she asked of him as soon as she caught her breath.

“Yes!” he hissed.

Garrick reached orgasm on the declaration. He shouted out with it, gripping her hips and holding her to himself as he emptied himself into her. It felt like being turned inside out, his soul bared for everyone to see…and the only one there to see it was his wife.

As they panted for breath, their hot bodies cooling down, Sarea began to shiver. Garrick held her close and as soon as he was able he got his legs under him and brought them to their feet. He closed the terrace doors and picked up their clothes. Sarea dressed quickly, her whole body trembling. Feeling guilty for her cold state, as soon as he was dressed he swept her up into his arms and brought her to the warmest place he could think of.

The conservatory. The hot spring underneath made the floors hot to their cold feet. Garrick brought them to the little table and chairs, sat in a chair and put Sarea in his lap. As they warmed quickly, the smell of exotic flowers washed over them, filling their already heightened senses.

Sarea laid her head down on her husband’s shoulder, unable to keep from smiling. She had shared everything with him. There was now no part of herself kept secret from him. And now all of her fears of him ever growing tired of her had been put to rest.

“You will never want anyone but me. That is the way of trumates.”

“I would never want anyone but you whether we were trumates or not.”

That made her smile. “Well, I confess I was worried.”

“I thought we discussed this.”

“I couldn’t help myself. The more I loved you the more I feared losing you.”

“You will never lose me.”

“I know that now.” She sighed. “I feel very lucky. If someone would have told me three misra ago that I would be married to the king and pregnant with his heir and content to be in love with him, I would have thought them mad.”