WingsOfDesire-AriannaSkye (40 page)

“Apology accepted, General. This involves Sionnach in a roundabout way, anyhow.

Continue for the general,
leannan
.”

“Well, it seems as if someone else had eyes for Sionnach.” He loved how she hummed and hawed around the story. “Anyhow. Korrigan punished this woman just for looking at him.”

“Who was this woman,” Windstorm asked, obviously wanting to get to the point.

“It is I, General.”

Cerne whipped his horse around and glanced toward the sky. Aine fluttered down, with Maeve and Belenus beside her. The White Faerie armies snapped to attention, their hands poised at their sides, ready to grab either a sword or a staff. Cerne rested his hand at his hilt. Not being all that adept with magic yet, Cerne was trained by the sword. Soon, that all would change.

“Hold your weapons,” Windstorm said, with a firmness that could not be ignored.

“She’s a Dark Faerie,” one bold soldier said from the middle of a crowd. “It could be a trap.”

Windstorm grabbed his reins and trotted his horse up and down the lines. “She helped the princess escape the Dark Castle.”

Rhiannon nodded. “The scar on her cheek was given to her by her sister.” Cerne turned his gaze to Aine whose face twitched in response.

“She speaks the truth.” Aine traced her finger along the long jagged scar. “Just for daring to even glance at one of her pleasure-slaves.”

Maeve stepped forward, bowing to the general. Her flaxen hair fluttered about her face. “She has been extremely helpful, even flying Princess Rhiannon over the divide into White Faerie land.”

Cerne raised his head, ready to speak his mind. “Lady Aine has provided us information on the whereabouts of my brother. She has risked her life to protect Princess Rhiannon. She has proven her loyalty threefold, if not more.”

Rhiannon turned to him and nodded her approval. She turned her gaze back to Rowan and his armies. “Maeve has examined her aura and says it’s mixed.” Moving his gaze to Maeve, Windstorm scratched the stubble bristling his chin. “Is that so?” Maeve nodded. “Yes it is, General. She has a strong white aura that seems to overpower the dark. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen.”

“Interesting.” Windstorm paced back and forth in front of his troops. “If Princess Rhiannon and the other members of the council that are present are confident about Lady Aine’s allegiance, then I haven’t a problem either.”

He turned to the crowd of soldiers. “Do you doubt your general’s decision?”

“No, sir. No!” came the reply from the troops.

“Good answer.” Windstorm let out a hearty chuckle. He turned to Aine and smiled. “I’d love to hear what you know.”

“Thank you, General.” Aine returned the smile. “I am more than happy to finally assist a worthy cause.”

Rhiannon reined her horse next to Cerne’s and sat with unrivaled regal beauty. “And I’m honored to have your help.”

Windstorm reined his horse next to them. Lowering his voice to a hush, he said, “You do realize she’ll still need to be watched. She’s Korrigan’s sister, after all.” Rhiannon nodded. “Understood, General. I can watch her well enough.”

“With all due respect, Your Highness, you have enough to worry about watching your own safety.” Windstorm crossed his arms in front of his chest, his eyes unwavering.

Well, deities, am I invisible?
“The princess doesn’t need to watch herself. She has me to keep her safe,” Cerne said.

Rhiannon tossed him an irritated glare. “Perhaps
you
are the one who needs protection, Lord Silverwing.”

“I didn’t get myself kidnapped, now did I?” Cerne cringed, wishing he hadn’t spoken before he thought.

“Touché,” Rhiannon said, kicking her horse and trotting off. Gods, he hated when she did that!

Aine fluttered next to Cerne. “My sister says love is a weakness. I’d love for you to prove me wrong.”

Cerne let out a low growl. “You walk a thin line, Aine. I would suggest keeping your attention on the battle and off matters that do not concern you.”

“On the contrary, Lord Silverwing.” She flicked her wings and raised her head high. “It concerns the welfare of both kingdoms.”

Cerne opened his mouth to parry with a smart retort, but the sound of crashing thunder and lightning streaking across the sky interrupted his thoughts.

Rhiannon grabbed the reins of her horse and turned to face Cerne, concern etched across her face. “Korrigan?” she asked, fear flicking in her emerald eyes.

With a slow nod, Aine sucked in a deep breath. “My sister has arrived. Feel honored she gave you a warning.”

Rhiannon reined her horse back next to her consort-to-be and gazed up. Another jagged streak screeched across the sky, lighting up the dismal gray. She angled her head toward Aine.

“How much time do we have?”

Aine shrugged. “About fifteen human minutes.”

Damn. They needed a plan, and quick. She turned to Windstorm, who had a spyglass poised in the direction of the lightning shower. “Any ideas, General?” Windstorm pulled the glass away from his eye and set it in the satchel on his horse. He scratched his chin in thoughtful silence. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he spoke. “I want you to stay back. I can’t risk your safety, Princess Rhiannon.” He turned to Cerne. “Or yours either, Lord Silverwing.”

“I know my sister’s tactics, General.” Aine stood proud, wings flicking at her back. “I can be of great assistance to you.”

Windstorm narrowed his eyes. “With all due respect, Lady Aine, what’s not to say you wouldn’t be leading us to our deaths?”

“Excellent point, General.” Aine brushed a black curl from her face as the wind whipped through the air. “However, would you rather I stay back with your princess, where I could lead my sister right to the prize? Or would you prefer I stay with you, where you can keep an eye on me?”

Windstorm nodded, his eyes scanning Aine. “You’ve made an excellent point . You’ll stay with me.”

“And you’ll stay with me,” Cerne said, leaning toward Rhiannon. He grabbed the reins of his horse in a tight, unyielding grip. “I’ll protect those I—ahh—value.” Rhiannon shrugged. Well, being valued was a start. “I appreciate the concern,
mo cridhe
.” She leaned over in her saddle to kiss his cheek. Cerne turned to face her, catching her lips with his. Tender softness and heated desire mixed, sending more electricity through her body. She struggled with the reins of her horse. Oh Gods, she was going to fall off. As if sensing the unease, Cerne wrapped his arms around her waist and plucked her from her horse, sitting her in

front of him on his mount. Thank all the Gods, he used care to avoid the saddle horn. That would’ve been most uncomfortable. Rhiannon grinned, glad she didn’t have to experience that.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his face closer. Tasting his rich spicy lips as his tongue pressed against hers sent more ripples of excitement through every part of her body. His hands traced along her back with smooth gentleness as his tongue licked slow, sensual circles with hers.

A soft moan escaped her lips and she pulled from his embrace. “Ahh. Thank you, Cerne.” Cerne traced a finger down her cheek. “No. Thank you, my love.” Rhiannon’s eyes widened and her heart fluttered like the wings on Maeve’s back. Did he actually say love? “What did you say?”

Cerne’s jaw ticked and he gnawed his lip. “I said thank you, for the battle kiss.”
Stupid, stupid, sexy-ass man!

“Oh, okay.” She glanced back toward her riderless horse. Why did she have to fall in love with the most stubborn and insecure man in human—and faerie—existence? “I would like to return to my mount.”

Cerne nodded and helped lower her to the ground. Rhiannon grabbed her skirts, twisted around and stomped back toward the horse. She grabbed the horn, pulled herself up and flicked the reins to send the horse in a trot toward Aine.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, Your Highness. I am finally fighting for a righteous cause.”

Rhiannon reached down and took Aine’s hands in hers. “It’s I who should thank you.

General Windstorm is lucky to have you at his side.” General Windstorm broke the reverie as his horse bolted through the crowds. “Lady Aine, come with me.” He motioned Cerne over with his hand. “Lord Silverwing, please come.” Cerne pulled his reins and joined the group. “What is it, General?”

“The Dark Faeries are on the move. I’ve secured a place for the princess, along with the best of our guards.” Windstorm pointed toward a copse of trees. “Maeve was telling me about a cloaking spell you used along the way. I implore you to use it.”
Oh, hell, no!
These faeries expected her to cower and hide while they fought to their deaths?

“I don’t think so.”

Cerne whipped his head around to face her. “What?”

Rhiannon sucked in a breath and sat tall on her horse. “You expect me to sit idly while everyone fights? I hate to inform you, but I’m no coward.” Windstorm stiffened in his saddle. “The livelihood of the kingdom rests with your safety.” Cerne gazed at her, eyes pleading. “I cannot risk losing you.”

“Yeah, that’s right. I forgot. You need me to get your wings. That’s what all this is about, right?” Someone had to say it. It was the only way she could think of to light the fire under his ass.

Cerne’s cheek twitched again and the wounded expression in his eyes made her want to sink down into the ground. “Yes, Your Highness. You are correct.” He flicked his reins and trotted off. So much for fire. She’d managed only to hurt his feelings.

Maeve fluttered down next to her. “Those were some harsh words, Your Highness. I’m speaking as a friend, and not a politician.”

“Thanks for pointing out the obvious.” Rhiannon sighed. “I didn’t mean it. I’m just frustrated and at my wits end.”

“Cerne loves you. Take comfort in the way he acts toward you. There is a human euphemism for this, I believe.”

Rhiannon nodded. “Actions speak louder than words.” Maeve did make a point. The way he kissed her, held her, gazed at her, showed his love. But sometimes a girl just needed to hear it too. She decided to change the subject. “What’s a battle kiss?”

“A kiss one shares with the one they love before one goes off to battle.” Maeve smiled. “See my point, Rhiannon?”

Yeah, she saw the point, for now. “But about this cloaking and hiding thing, that just isn’t me.” Catching Maeve’s scowl, she added, “Protection spell, maybe. Acting like a coward? Not on my life.”

Maeve threw back her head and chuckled. “I really didn’t expect anything less from you.

Rowan has the mindset that women are to be protected and hidden. It took us forever to get him to allow women to battle. And some of our women are the fiercest warriors, too!” Maeve scratched her head. “You’ll need a disguise, I’m afraid.”

“Make me look like Xena, and I’ll kick your ass.” Rhiannon giggled. The thought of wearing a metal thong and bra held little, if no, appeal, not to mention major ass chafing.

“Xena?”

Rhiannon smirked. “Never mind, it’s a human television show.” She turned her gaze to Cerne. Sitting tall on his mount, he conversed with Windstorm and Aine. She extended her finger to where they sat. “What about him?”

“He won’t be happy with our decision, but he’ll defend you. You’re the princess. He has no choice but to obey your command.”

“It’s good to be the princess.”

~*~*~

“
ABSOLUTELY NOT!
” Cerne growled out. “You need to be protected. You should not be fighting.”

Rhiannon clenched her fists. “Was it not my mother who insisted I lead the armies?”

“Your mother wasn’t of sound mind when she made the decision.” Maeve shook her head. “She and I spoke of it before she fell ill. And do you not understand that her fighting in disguise is safer than putting her up front in General Windstorm’s position, right in plain sight?”

Thank you, Maeve.
“And we’ll have a protection spell to keep us safe.” Rhiannon’s lips curved into a wide, confident smile.

“If you’re hurt, I’ll never forgive myself.” Cerne crossed his arms in front of his chest, his lips unwavering and his eyes glaring.

Maeve rolled her eyes. “That’s what the protection spell is for, you dolt.”

“And since I’m giving you a royal order, you have no choice but agree to it.” Rhiannon loved the finality of her voice.

Cerne’s jaw tightened and his fists clenched as he turned to Maeve. “I can’t believe you gave her this insane idea. However crazy it is, I have no choice but to respect my princess’s wishes.” His stern gaze bore into Rhiannon. “It doesn’t mean I’m happy with this decision.”

“Thank you, my love.” Rhiannon crossed her arms and arched a brow. “With you and the spell to protect me, how can anything go wrong?”

“Incoming!” A shout came from the crowd. Rhiannon glanced up just as a large fireball zoomed across the sky.

Without a second thought, she raised her hands. Closing her eyes, she visualized her hands

as giant buckets of ice. Throwing her hands toward the fiery globe, she imagined ice cubes flying at the fire. Cracks and sizzles broke the silence. Rhiannon opened her eyes to see giant flakes of snow floating to the ground.

Crossing her arms, she turned to Cerne, who was staring open mouthed at her. “Still worried about my safety?”

“Holy deities!” Maeve breathed out. “With a skill like that, you definitely need to fight.” Windstorm broke away from his troops and prodded his horse toward them. He gazed at Rhiannon, wonder shining in his moss-green eyes. “That was mighty impressive, Your Highness.” He scratched his bearded chin. “Where did you learn that skill?” Rhiannon sucked in a breath. “I discovered it when Aine and I were attacked by a dragon rider.” She relayed the rest of the story, from saving Aine’s flaming wing, to freezing out the dragon’s fire.

“Ahh, well, it’s still impressive, nonetheless.” Windstorm flashed a toothy grin. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

Rhiannon returned the grin with one just as big. Now that he’d witnessed just a little of what she could do, he would certainly go along with their plan. “It appears I may be of some use to the White Faerie army after all.”

Windstorm arched a brow. “What? Surely you don’t mean to fight?”