Warrior (43 page)

stingy with answers.

“As soon as we know what we’re

facing,” was the quick reply. And then

Varian was stopping before the

castle’s entrance and lifting her from

the stallion. He swung down beside

her and took her arm. “Come. I’ll take

you to your chambers.”

Isolde forced her feet to move

forward as she stole sideways glances

at Varian. He was hiding something

from her. As soon as she entered the

castle, she noticed that a few of the

servants were still up and about and

murmurs of ‘princess’ went up among

them. She heard a few whispers

concerning her hair but refused to let

them bother her. It would grow back.

Before her door, Varian paused and

looked down at her. He surveyed the

hallway briefly. “There are warriors

surrounding the castle and guards

making rounds on each floor. Two

guards will be placed outside of your

door. You have nothing to fear. No

one will take you from m—from

here.”

She nodded quickly and touched his

arm when he turned to move away.

“Will you ride out soon?” she asked

softly.

Varian’s

eyes

narrowed.

“Whenever Vulcan is ready.”

She blushed and leaned into him,

pushing up a few inches. “Come to

me before you take your bed.”

Without allowing a response, she

slipped into her chambers and closed

the door silently behind her.

***

Varian was left staring at the brown

oak, his eyes gradually darkening. Did

a princess—no, did Isolde just

proposition him? He shook his head

and headed for the staircase. He

needed to discuss important matters

with Vulcan before he gave his body

the much-needed rest it deserved.

Even as he told himself that Isolde

was shaken, that she was an innocent

who didn’t understand the meaning of

inviting a man to her bed chambers so

late in the night, he was already

making a mental note to himself to be

there after his talk with his brother.

***

He wasn’t coming.

Isolde snuggled further into the thin

sheet that covered her body. She was

tired but had refused her body rest in

order to have a few moments alone

with Varian. At least two hours had to

have passed since she told him to

meet her, and there was still no sign of

him.

What did you expect?
The insecure

part of her roared her ugly head. Ever

since that redheaded hybrid had cut

her hair, she’d felt ugly. Not that

she’d ever prided herself on being a

beauty, that was Mathilda’s title, but

at least she had her hair, the long red

tresses she’d inherited from her

mother. Now, she didn’t even have

that. It was no wonder Varian now

looked at her differently.

He still finds you beautiful,
the

confident part of her rebutted. Isolde

nodded and looked toward her door.

Really? So why is he not here? He

does not want you anymore, replied

the ugly voice and Isolde shook her

head to clear it.

She closed her eyes, dismissed all

thoughts, and relaxed against the soft

bedding.

She was home and that was all that

mattered.

***

Varian did not say a word as he

approached the two warriors who

stood guard before Isolde’s door.

They nodded and stepped aside. He

entered the room, which was sparsely

lit by the dying fire at the hearth.

Closing the door behind him, he

crossed over to the bed and looked

down at her. She was sleeping, safe

under his protection once more.

Moving over to the fireplace, he

grabbed a few blocks of wood and

threw them onto the fire. The fire

blazed higher and Varian turned away

from the heat, staring back to the bed

where Isolde lay. She hadn’t stirred,

but he thought a soft sigh escaped her

lips. He walked over and looked down

at her. Her long eyelashes fanned her

silken cheek, and although her lips

were relaxed, she looked like she’d

fallen asleep with something or

someone on her mind.

Leaning down, he lightly traced her

lower lip with his finger, drawing his

hand back slightly as she shifted

against him.

The range of emotions that had gone

through him when he’d found out she

was missing had been unlike anything

he’d felt before. He’d wanted to take

her across his knee for disobeying him

and leaving the castle without guards,

but he’d wanted the men who’d taken

her more, those who had dared to lay

hands on her. He felt hot rage pulse

through his body and took a few

minutes to savor it before he viciously

pushed it away and latched onto his

control. Having his uncanny knack to

so efficiently control his emotions was

what made Varian a formidable ally

and a relentless enemy. He allowed

his breathing to even, his face to relax.

“Varian.” It was a whisper, a soft

call to him. He felt the control of his

emotions slip as he focused on her

face. She was still asleep. Was she

dreaming of him? He remained where

he was, still, listening for any other

sounds that would leave her lips.

“No—not my hair—stop—
stop
!”

she suddenly murmured in protest,

tossing her head against the soft

pillows. His hand touched her cheek,

caressing back and forth, even as he

felt like snapping the necks of those

who’d cut her hair. Tomorrow, after

she was rested, he would find out

who’d dared to do this to her.

Her eyes opened briefly, and for the

briefest of moments, she stared up at

him.

“Stay,” she said sleepily, blinking up

at him. “Don’t leave. Stay.”

Varian considered that request.

Could he stay in the same room with

Isolde and not take her? He doubted

it. He was preparing to say something

to excuse himself when her hand

suddenly grasped his, as it rested on

her cheek.

“I feel safer when you’re with me.”

Releasing a sigh, he nodded and

straightened himself, gently detangling

her small hand from his. He removed

his boots and gave her his back as he

pulled the tunic from his body. Varian

usually slept in the nude but he had

never had such a bed companion

before. If he removed anything else,

there would be no sleeping in that

bed, and Isolde would hate him in the

morning. As he considered that, he

heard a soft shifting of the bed, and

turned to face her.

Isolde had moved to the other side,

and was smiling at him. Varian had

seen her smile numerous times, but

never at him. Sliding under the covers,

he placed both arms under his head

and stared up at the ceiling. The bed

shifted as Isolde moved closer to him,

placing her head onto his shoulder,

and her spooning into his side. Varian,

as tense as ever, and growing hard in

the very place that ached from the

first moment he’d lain eyes on her,

considered leaving for his chambers.

He heard her breathing even and

noticed that her face was relaxed, a

small smile lingered against the rose

red of her lips.

With a sigh, he stretched out his arm

and pulled her closer to him. Her

breasts brushed against him and he

stifled the urge to groan. Closing his

eyes, Varian prayed for sleep,

knowing it would not come for a long

while.

***

Sulan

Jarel Shadid, Prince of Sulan and

heir to the Sulanese throne, stared at

the woman before him with something

akin to awe. He had seen many

beautiful

women,

of

different

backgrounds

and

from

different

kingdoms, but none struck him as she

did. She’d said nothing and was not

dressed befitting her station, but

anyone who looked at Jaisyn of

Lytheria, knew she was a royalty. He

was glad he had ridden out to meet

her, against Dax’s wishes, but he and

his father had agreed it was only

appropriate that he should accompany

the Lytherian queen into Sulan. Jarel

did not understand why she was so

undressed, but Dax had explained

she’d been disguised in order to leave

Morden. Satisfied with that answer,

he’d commanded his brother to

introduce him to the queen.

She was been sitting on a log, her

elbows on her knees, as she stared

into the fire. It cast an illusion with her

eyes, making them burn before his

gaze. Against his own wishes, Dax

introduced them. Jaisyn barely spared

him a glance before she’d gone back

to staring at the flames. Dax excused

her behavior, saying she was tired, but

Jarel sensed something more was

wrong. Jaisyn of Lytheria did not fit

the profile of a woman happy to be

away from a brutal husband. She did

not seem sad, either. Cold, but not

sad.

Jarel took a seat beside her and

dismissed Dax. His brother seemed

intent on staying until Jarel raised his

voice and gave the command a second

time. Jarel had long distrusted Dax.

For all purposes, he did not consider

him a brother. Azarius’s guilt kept him

from

seeing

what

Jarel

easy

deciphered: that Dax was evil, with no

conscience. Azarius had pledged to

support Kegan after hearing of the

wrongdoings of the Northern king. If

Jarel were to find out anything to

discredit the story Kegan and Dax had

given them, the Sulanese would not

fight.

“It is a good night, is it not?” As

Jarel spoke, the queen tilted her head

slightly, startling him with the intensity

of her gaze as it swung to him.

“The nights have been nothing but

good thus far,” was the cool reply.

Jarel nodded and said immediately,

“Do not worry, Jaisyn of Lytheria.

The Sulanese will fight for your

cause.”

Her eyebrows crinkled and then, as

if she found that highly amusing, she

chortled. “My cause? The Sulanese

fight for no cause of mine.”

Before he could ask what she

meant, Dax returned with a platter of

fruits, which he offered to the queen.

Their eyes met and something silent

was conveyed.

Jarel asked Jaisyn a few more

questions,

and

after

receiving

noncommittal

responses,

moved

away. Something was not right. As he

made his way into his tent, he vowed

he would find out what it was.

***

Jaisyn had not seen her husband for

more than a fortnight, but he’d been

with her in her dreams. Her eyes

would close and she would see

Vulcan towering over her, his eyes full

of desire for her and a wicked grin on

his beautiful lips, as he became willing

teacher and she eager student in his

arms. It was for those reasons she

welcomed sleep each night. She’d

tried to escape from Dax’s clutches

twice already, but after the second

time, he’d promised not to hurt just

her, but the baby she carried. She had

not told him but with her constant

sickness, it was only time before he

figured it out. For the sake of her

child, she’d given up trying to escape.

As soon as she entered Sulan, for she

now knew that was their destination,

she would make her escape and travel

west to Mitherie. Tarbin would keep

her safe from the Sulanese until her

husband arrived.

Sleep was slowly overtaking her,

and she felt herself drift into that land

where Vulcan waited, when a soft