Untouchable (21 page)

Without letting on to the others in camp that anything had changed, he volunteered to take the first watch, using the excuse that he did not feel like sleeping. When everyone else was asleep, which did not take very long, he grabbed his bedroll, saddled his horse, and entered the forest.

He found Tari where he’d left her standing.

“Did you bring your waterskin?” she asked as he led her away from the camp.

“Yes. Are you thirsty?”

She shook her head. “No, I just wanted to make sure you didn’t forget anything that we might need along the way.”

His stomach made an odd gurgling noise and yet another pain shot through him. Yes, it was a very good thing Tari had come along when she had. He had her right where he wanted her, and she’d do anything for him. Hadn’t she already proven that point?

TRYSTAN
held Sanura long after she slept, knowing that to hold her was a weakness he did not need or want.

Was she right when she said that he would never be rid of the other and the other would never be rid of him? Was she right to contend that he was only one? Was that why, in spite of his anger and his ambition, he wanted her to love him?

When the thief had threatened her, Trystan had felt anger and worry and a dark possessiveness, even though he had been the one to put her in the road, even though he had used her to stop the horsemen. Sanura was
his
. No other man would hurt her, no other man would touch her. He might’ve taken her and the horse and left the two thieves alive, but when the bandit had held a knife to Sanura, he’d gone too far. He’d been dead the moment he put that dagger to her throat.

This was a complication he could do without. All these years, his plans had been so simple. Take control, take the throne,
take
whatever he wanted to take! And yet here he was, enjoying the comfort of the even sound of Sanura’s breathing, of the feel of her skin against his. He was hard again, he could not sleep, and yet he would not wake her to
take
what he wanted.

Trystan was not gone, he had not been pushed down into the shadows again, and yet he realized that he was no longer alone. Alix was with him—and perhaps had been for quite some time. Alix was influencing him, was affecting his mind. If Sanura was right and they were one, nothing would be as he’d planned—nothing would ever be the way it had once been, either.

He no longer knew what tomorrow would bring. He was not Prince Alixandyr, loyal and obedient servant to his brother the emperor, but neither was he a cold-blooded killer who cared for nothing but what he desired, what he deserved.

Perhaps that was why he held Sanura even now. In spite of his strength and his plans and the victories he had won of late, he was lost.

Sanura woke slowly. Her body squirmed against his, her breathing changed, her hands wandered. They had not bothered to dress last night, as the air was mild and they had one another to keep themselves warm, so her squirming was quite pleasurable. Her head tilted back, and in the first gray light of the day he saw her smile.

She
smiled
.

“Are you awake, love?” she asked, her voice husky with sleep.

“Yes.”

“Good.” She stroked him intimately, she kissed him, she raked her talented fingers across his body as she wished, and then she guided him into her. She sighed in contentment as he filled her. She moved against him in a slow and easy rhythm. They came alive as the morning did.

In this position he could only partially enter her, but for a while it was enough. There was no rush, there was no fury. There was sensation and possibility and love. There was desire and pleasure and the promise of more. She belonged to him, and he would never again be lost in darkness. He would never again be alone.

“I love you,” Sanura said as her hips shifted so that she could take more of him into her. Just a bit more.

I love you
. His words, his return of affection was silent but no less heartfelt than her own, even though he realized that love was his undoing. All his plans were dust thanks to the love he had not wanted or expected. And yet, he did not care. Not at this moment when his world did not extend beyond this forest, his desire, and her body.

He rolled Sanura onto her back and thrust deep. She found release almost immediately, and so did he. She shuddered and screamed and gasped beneath him, and then she grabbed on to his hair and pulled him down for a long, passionate kiss.

“You should not love me,” he said gruffly. “It’s wrong.”

“No, it is not wrong,” she insisted. “Just because you did not plan to love me in return...”

“I did not say that I loved you,” he insisted.

Sanura smiled. “No. You were so caught up in the physical, you forgot that I can see all of you, most particularly when we are joined. You do love me.”

“You’ve bewitched me with your body, that is all. I cannot love. I am not capable.”

“You can.” She looked at his eyes, calculating and inquisitive. “You do.”

Perhaps it was foolish to argue with a woman who had the power to see into a man’s soul. He could profess to the heavens that he felt nothing for her but lust, but she would know it was not true.

“When we recover your box, I want you blue again,” he said, anxious to turn the conversation from the subject of love.

“Why?”

“Don’t you know?” he asked sharply. “You seem to be able to see everything else.”

“Not everything,” she said without rancor, “just most where you’re concerned. Besides, now and then I like you to tell me things. I like to hear the gruff timbre of your voice.”

“Fine. I want you blue so no other man will ever touch you. I want you blue because that was how I first saw you, how you first attacked my heart and soul. I want you to sing again, just for me.”

Her brows drew together. “Sing? I have never sung. I have no gift for it.”

Trystan sighed. “You sang for him with every step, with every sigh. I don’t hear it the way your Alix did, and I want to. I want that very much. If you are painted blue once more and you wear the bangles, perhaps you will sing for me.”

“I will sing for no one else,” she said.

He remembered the feeling inside Alix when he’d heard Sanura’s song. It had been pleasant and at the same time disturbing, perhaps because he already knew what that music meant.

“You will make a fine empress,” he said as he forced himself to stand.

“Perhaps,” she whispered.

He offered her a hand to assist her to her feet. “If we hurry, we can make it to Arthes by tonight, and you can be empress by morning.”

She came to her feet with his help, and then her bare body fell against his. “I am in no rush to see Arthes or to be empress.”

He knew what she was doing; he realized that she did not want him to kill Jahn and take the throne. He knew that she would do everything in her power to slow their journey and keep him from the end of his plans—and he did not care.

VERITY
saw the farmhouse in the distance, and even though she was not anxious for their journey to end, she breathed a sigh of relief. The house was directly in their path, and Laris showed no sign of veering around it. She doubted he would stop there for very long, but shelter, food they did not pick or catch, a
chair
, all waited in that quaint cottage. Those simple things sounded so wonderful, she found her pace increasing. She almost skipped, but that would’ve been entirely inappropriate for a woman of her age.

The house itself was small compared with her home in the Northern Province, but it was far from tiny. It sprawled a bit, as if rooms had been added to the original structure. Smoke rose gently from the chimney, and the land surrounding the cottage was green and well kept. Farmland spread as far as she could see. Some of the crops had been recently planted, others were mature and green. She didn’t know exactly what kinds of crops grew on the farm, but she could see that they were well tended and healthy.

A line of freshly washed clothes whipped in the breeze, and Verity thought of what a joy it would be to wash the putrid green dress Laris had bought her. There had been a time when burning would’ve been her first thought, but since he had bought it for her, she would not destroy it, no matter what happened in the weeks to come. Besides, he had told her that her eyes were a more brilliant blue than ever before, in contrast to the drab green. When she was able to replace the clothing she had lost, perhaps there would be one or two green gowns in her new wardrobe.

She was practically joyous as they approached the farmhouse, and again she suppressed the urge to skip. The sun shone, the weather was mild, and Laris held her hand. Perhaps her good mood was colored by the fact that he loved her without the use of magic. She was not a terrible person after all.

Since running away from the potential assassins, she had not seen another living soul except Laris. He had seen only a shopkeeper, in that small town where he’d stopped for supplies. Verity was anxious about seeing the people who lived in this farmhouse. She was not afraid and she was not joyous, but she
was
anxious.

Would word of her death have reached such an isolated home? Probably not, but it was possible. They should come up with a good story and a couple of false names, just in case whoever lived here asked too many questions.

Before she could broach the subject, the door to the house opened and a young woman stepped out into the sunshine. Even from this distance Verity could tell that the woman was shapely and probably no older than she. The girl’s dress was as plain as the one Laris had bought for her, but it was not green and it was of a better fit.

“We should have our story settled, if we’re to see others, ” she said. “I suppose we will have to pretend to be married.” Her heart did a flip and her stomach tightened. “That would explain why we’re traveling together.” And holding hands, too.

“We don’t need a story,” Laris said calmly.

“We do.”

Verity said no more before the young woman who’d come out of the cottage saw them. And screamed.

The girl lifted the skirt of her plain dress high, and ran. She did not run like a lady, but flashed her bare legs and moved at an amazing speed. Verity stopped in her tracks. Was the woman mad? Had she been isolated on this farm for so long that the sight of strangers compelled her to run at the speed of a racehorse?

Laris dropped her hand and smiled at the madwoman, moving forward to greet her. The racing girl smiled widely, and she screamed again for no apparent reason. Then she screamed his name at the top of her apparently healthy lungs.

“Laris!”

His smile; her shout...this was a sweet reunion.

Verity’s heart sank. Love-struck or not, Laris had a wife. A special friend, at the very least. No wonder he had never tried to make love to her as they slept entwined. He was already married, or promised. She placed her hands on her hips in outrage. He had asked her to marry him! How could he have suggested that she be his wife if he already had one? Of course, he had quickly admitted that his proposal was a stupid idea, so perhaps some baser impulse had momentarily carried him away, and then he’d had time to remember that he already had a woman and could not take her as a wife.

Verity no longer felt like skipping. Her heart was heavy, her stomach was one big knot.

If only the girl were ugly, she thought as the two met and threw their arms around one another. Instead, the girl was quite pretty, and had luxurious light brown hair and a pronounced womanly figure. Verity’s knees wobbled. She wanted to fall into the dirt and sob, even though Laris was nothing to her but a sentinel who had saved her life and promised to protect her. He was just a man who loved her, even though he knew it was wrong.

He wasn’t hers. He never had been.

Laris lifted the unladylike, screaming woman off her feet and spun her around. They both laughed. It was heart-warmingand totally unacceptable. Verity stood her ground, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at the happy couple.

“I didn’t expect to see you for weeks!” the girl cried as Laris put her on her feet.

“This visit was unplanned,” Laris explained.

The girl looked around him and smiled at Verity. “And you are not alone.”

The smile was confusing. Verity knew that if she was married to Laris and he showed up with another woman, she’d be furious!

Laris took the girl’s arm and led her toward Verity. She tried to keep her lower lip from trembling, but was unsuccessful. Laris looked confused, and then contrite. “Verity...”

So much for her false name.

“This is my sister Carina.”

Sister. The word echoed through her heart clear as a bell. Sister! The knotted stomach eased. Her heart lightened. Verity put on her most brilliant smile and stepped forward. “It’s so lovely to meet you. Really, so very lovely. Such a pleasure.” Just because she was dressed like a beggar, that didn’t mean she had to act like one. “Laris, you didn’t tell me your sister Carina was so beautiful!” She reached around and pinched him soundly, to make him pay for causing her grief, no matter how short-lived that grief might’ve been. He didn’t yelp, but he did jump a bit.

From what he’d said, there were three sisters and two brothers still living at home. He had mentioned all their names at least once, but she could not remember them all. He had never bothered with physical descriptions, and she had not asked since she’d thought she’d never meet them. She looked at the farmhouse and tried to imagine all those people living there. With their parents, that made seven in a house smaller than the kitchen of the home she’d left behind.

Of course, it was a
big
kitchen.

Laris placed an arm around her shoulder. “You don’t have to be in Arthes until the first night of the Summer Festival, so I thought we might stay here for a while, if that’s all right with you.”

“Yes,” she said. “I think that’s a lovely idea.”

“It’ll be much more crowded than what you’re accustomed to,” he warned her.

“I don’t care.”

“You’ll have to share a bed.” He blushed.

She blushed, too. “I don’t care,” she said again.

In fact, sharing a bed sounded very fine at the moment.

IN
spite of his impatience to reach Arthes, Trystan led the horse at an easy pace. If they did not reach Arthes until tomorrow or the next day, what would be the harm? Jahn would still be there, and before it was all done, Jahn would still be dead.

There was more to this life he had craved for so long than the taking of power.

Sanura was perched in front of him, sideways so he could see her face when he desired to do so. He desired to do so often. There was something about the curve of her cheek and the softness of her lips and the gleam of her eyes that warmed him. He had not thought he wished to be warmed, and yet apparently he did.

“Tell me about your brother,” Sanura said as they moved at a slow pace down the road to Arthes.

Instead of ordering her to cease prattling, as he should’ve, he asked, “What do you wish to know?

“You are twins. Do you look exactly alike?”

He gave a disgusted snort. “No. Jahn is fairer, and prettier in the face. You would find him handsome, I imagine. Most women do.”

“I don’t care for a man who’s too pretty.” Sanura twisted her head and looked up at him. “I prefer a man who looks like a man, as you do.”

Was it his imagination, or did she stare too intently into his eyes? His insides tightened and quaked.

“Stop looking at me that way unless you wish to be taken here and now.”

“You would stop so soon?”

“I did not say we would stop. I said
here
and
now
.”

She laughed easily. “We cannot make love on horseback. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I did not say we would make love.” Such soft, easy words for such a momentous act.

“No, but that is what you meant,” she said, relaxing against him as best she could. “And no matter what you call it, the deed cannot be accomplished on horseback, and should not be attempted unless you wish to die of a broken neck.”

“But I would die happy.”

She laughed. He smiled.
Happy
. In all the times he’d thought of taking control and taking what he wanted, happiness had never crossed his mind. It had not crossed Alix’s mind often, either. He’d been too busy fighting to keep his most primal thoughts suppressed.

Was Sanura right when she insisted that they were one? That there was no Alix and Trystan, that there was no light and dark, there was only the man he had become. A single man. If she was right, then there was no other—and there never had been.

He’d planned to kill her once he’d had her, but he’d had her many times now, and he did not even wish to see her frown—much less see her dead. He would protect her with his life, if need be, and if anyone else dared to touch her, to hurt her, he would die to keep her safe.

She had ruined everything.

“Were you close growing up?” she asked.

“Jahn and I?”

“Yes, though when you were children, he was Devlyn and you were Trystan, isn’t that right?”

“That’s correct.” He looked past Sanura’s fall of hair, which was caught up on top of her head, silky as a raven’s wing. “There were times when we were close, and times when we were not. He could be very funny, when he wished to be. He made our mother laugh when she was sad and nothing and no one else could ease her pain.”

“Did he make you laugh?”

“Now and then.” His gut clenched. “Don’t think you will make me change my mind by urging me to remember better times. I know what I want and what is required to take it. I know what is mine, Sanura.”

“I would never dare to try to make you change your mind,” she said calmly. “I was simply curious, and trying to pass the time.” He could see her face well enough to see the transformation that came over it. Her smile died. Her mouth went hard. He wanted to ask her what was wrong, but held his tongue.

Eventually, she told him what had made her frown. “I cannot be empress, you know.”

“Of course you can.” He would have no one else—he could trust no one else. “We will be married as soon as I’m declared emperor, and . . .”

“I can’t give you an heir, and any woman you take as your wife must be able to bear your child. Is that not the reason for this silly contest to find an empress? Is it not required that the emperor produce sons?”

“I know a woman who has the gift of fertility. We will ask for her help...”

“I don’t think even the strongest of magic can help me conceive and bear a child, and even if it were possible...is this woman a friend of yours and of Jahn’s?”

“Yes.”

“Do you really think she will help you after you assassinate him?”

“We will find a way,” he said sharply.

“There is no way. Perhaps you will keep me as a concubine and marry a woman who will give you children while you keep me for pleasure. Was that not the way of old? I heard stories, while living in Tryfyn, of a Columbyanan emperor who kept a large and pampered harem.”

Trystan sighed. “That emperor was my father.”

“Then you can carry on the family tradition.”

It did make sense. He would need an heir, and Sophie Fyne Varden would not only not assist him if she knew he’d murdered Jahn, she was likely to rain terror on the palace, if she got the chance. Still, he did not like the idea of taking another woman as wife. He also did not like the idea of keeping Sanura as no more than the sexual slave she’d been born to be. She deserved more. She would have more; he’d see to it.

SANURA
knew she could not stop Trystan if he insisted upon killing his brother, so she did not even attempt to reason with him. Instead, she planted small doubts in his heart. It was easy, now that the part of him she’d called Alix was rising to the surface once again.

He would never again be the man she’d first met, she understood and accepted that, but he could be a new man, a happier man who did not do constant battle with himself. All beings had primitive desires and dark thoughts. What made a man or woman light or dark was what choices they made when those dark thoughts surfaced.

Trystan Arndell, who had become Prince Alixandyr Beckyt at the age of twenty-five, had been fractured at birth—or perhaps earlier, when he’d become life in his mother’s womb. That fracture had existed all these years, until she’d drawn the darker half to the surface by making Alix take something which he knew was not his to take.

Because of her, he would never be the same, but she was not sorry. She could not be sorry that she loved him and he loved her. With luck, his long battle was over. She looked up and into his eyes once again, to see the streaks of light green that had begun to form amid the dark. Love did that. Love brought the light of his soul to the forefront even now.