Wesley entered with Landon following behind him. The young man was tall and lean, his wide set brown eyes intelligent and watchful, and there was a stubborn set to his jaw that Cara hadn't noticed before. By his apparel, it was evident that he was middle class at best, and yet he held himself with the self-composed confidence of a man secure with his position in life. In spite of his arrogant poise, there was also fear etched in his perfectly chiseled features, and Cara intended to use it to her advantage.
“Shut the door,” she ordered.
With unsteady hands, Landon did as he was told. Wesley grimaced at the sound of the lock clicking behind him.
She took a sip of her wine and watched them over the rim of her cup. They seemed an unlikely pair, one tall, dark and lanky, the other stout and fair.
“I'm sure by the nature of our meeting, you are aware that I know of the affair between yourself and Landon.” Wesley started to speak, but she held up a hand to stop him. “I'm not here to judge you.”
Wesley looked down at the floor and nodded. “I didn't mean to deceive you. Our relationship started long before I knew I was to be consort.”
“I realize that,” Cara reassured, placing her cup on the table. She stood to meet his gaze. He was only a few inches taller than herself, but she had seen him wield a saber with the precision and grace of his rank, and she knew that despite his small stature he could be deadly if required. He was better friend than foe, and she was set on securing that alliance. “I'm not one to stand in the way of love, but there is also the matter of the vow you swore in the temple of Annul.”
Wesley's mouth was set in a grim line, but his gaze never faltered from hers. “I am ready to pay for my crimes, but I ask you to absolve Landon of any wrong doing. He has done nothing immoral except love a man who had been cursed by the goddess to live a life of self-denial.”
Cara let his words hang in the air, neither confirming nor denying her intentions. By his words alone she could have him punished for blasphemy, and he knew it well.
Wesley swallowed hard under her scrutiny, and a small bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face.
Finally she answered. “I have no intentions of bringing charges against you or Landon. Nor will I ever, unless either of you choose to renounce your loyalty to me.”
Wesley's eyes widened briefly, and then his brows drew downwards. “My word is sacred. I will not break my oath. You can be assured that my allegiance is to you.”
Cara looked at Landon. “And what of your loyalties? Would you be willing to swear an oath to me?”
“My heart belongs to Wesley, above country or queen. I cannot take a vow that would say otherwise.”
Wesley made a strangled sound deep in his throat.
Surprised by his words, Cara tilted her head and studied him. There was no malice in his expression, only unfaltering loyalty to a man who would never fully be able to reciprocate his devotion.
“I would never ask you to betray him, but you would be wise to note that in light of the vows Wesley made on the altar of Annul, any betrayal against myself would be an attack against him as well. So, I ask you again, can I trust you Landon?”
This time he nodded. “As I have said, my loyalties are with Wesley. He speaks highly of you, and believes that you will be a good queen. I trust his judgement. You can be assured that my loyalties align with Wesley's.”
For the time being she was satisfied with his response. It would be unwise to push any harder.
She looked back at Wesley, her smile pained with the knowledge that even if she allowed Landon to join them, they would never be truly free to love one another without restrictions or prejudice.
“There is a more pressing matter, and I need to know that if it came down to choosing sides, your alliance is with me.”
“There would be no hesitation,” Wesley said, letting out a ragged breath, and running his hands through his hair.
“I want you both to know that you have my blessing. I will never thwart your relationship, but by the laws of Annul I cannot publicly endorse it either.” She looked straight at Landon. “If you want to join us on tour, I would not say no, but I also can't promise protection. It is your choice”
For the first time since their meeting began, Landon looked genuinely dumbfounded. Whatever he had expected her to say, it was clear that it hadn't been that.
She saw something akin to gratitude flicker across Wesley's expression.
Picking up the poker, Cara began prodding the fire again. She struggled with what information she could trust them with, and decided that it was best to only share what was needed to help keep them safe.
“I'm sure you are both aware of the dangers that we face in the years ahead. I need you to tell your uncle and aunt to stop spreading rumors that Tahdaon was responsible for Batch's death. I know of their dislike of Dalglieshans, but it does no good for anyone to have them soil his reputation.”
“I will speak with them,” he assured, and then hesitated before asking, “Do you have any suspicion of who was responsible?”
Cara turned and looked at him intently. Here was the test, and she watched his expression closely as she gave him the information that could expose them. “There is a possibility that Edmund and Arwel were involved.”
Wesley's face paled and his pupils dilated in fear. “Then we all have reason to be afraid.”
“If it is so, then yes.”
“And if it is not?” Landon asked.
“Then we have caused unnecessary suspicion. Either way, it is has become evident that we must all keep our eyes and ears open. Batch had been marked as a traitor since Loewik. I cannot tell you for certain if his killer lives amongst us, but I do believe that we need to start taking extra precaution. For the time being, I have assigned Hauk to shadow you.”
“Hauk?” Wesley exclaimed.
“He's trustworthy. You needn't fear him. It's for your protection only, and I expect that you watch out for him as well.”
Wesley frowned but didn't argue.
“That's all for now,” she said, dismissing them, and turning back to the fire.
She didn't turn around when the door clicked shut.
Unfastening the front of her gown, she started to undress, and thought about calling Finn to her chambers, but that would mean leaving Cush alone. Already she was starting to regret this plan of having the men pair up. Tahdaon had made it clear once again that he didn't want to be near her, and now she was left alone with her own thoughts and yearnings.
Shifting the material to her ankles she stepped out of the gown, and stood wearing only the thin linen underdress. Unbraiding her hair, she used her fingers to comb through the tangles, and she flinched as her hair brushed against her hard taut nipples.
Despite everything that had happened throughout the day, her body ached with need. She cursed herself for the heat between her legs, and the inability to do anything to relieve herself properly. Closing her eyes, she ran her hand over her breasts, across her stomach, and rested her palm between her thighs. She moaned out loud as her need mounted, but her own touch had never been able to satisfy the hunger.
Sighing in resignation, she opened her eyes, turned towards her bed, and gasped in alarm at the sight of Tahdaon leaning against her door watching her.
“Don't stop on my behalf,” he said, his eyes dark and daring.
“Get out of here,” she hissed, feeling the blood rise to her face.
He pushed himself off the door and took two long strides towards her. “I thought you said you had plans for me.” He traced her collarbone with his finger and down the thin fabric, toying with the taut nipple beneath. “Isn't this what you had in mind?”
She shivered under his touch.
“No,” she lied, unable to move away from him, as he cupped her breast and continued to coax her nipple with his thumb.
“Are you sure about that?”
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I wouldn't force anyone to do anything they d
idn't want to do.”
Tahdaon grabbed her hard around the waist and drew her close so that she could feel his fully erect cock against her stomach. “Does it feel like I'm not willing?”
Cara placed her palms on his chest and looked up at him. Her heart beat wildly in her chest. She wanted to curse him for the power he had over her. It had been months since the first and only time he had been with her, and despite her attempt to erase the memory of his touch, it seemed that her attraction to him only increased the more time went by.
Fear stopped her from reacting. As much as she wanted him, she couldn't handle facing his rejection again. Not tonight. Not after everything that had happened.
“Why did you want me here?” he growled.
She bit her lip and quivered beneath the intensity of his dark gaze. When she managed to speak, her voice came out in a rasp. “I needed to forget.”
It was the truth. She knew that only he had the power to erase the images that haunted her. To take her mind off the tragic events that had occurred over the past week.
His eyes searched hers, and for a moment she thought he would pull away again. Instead, he lifted her in one swift motion and carried her to the bed. Laying her down on top of the blankets, she watched silently as he undressed. He pulled the linen shirt over his head, and Cara's mouth watered at the sight of his bared flesh.
As he stripped the remainder of his clothes, his gaze never faltered from her. With the elegance and power of a wild animal set on its prey, he crawled onto the bed and grasped the edges of her underdress, pulling it over her head.
He groaned deep in his chest as he looked at her, and Cara smiled to herself knowing that in that moment he wanted her. Needed her.
Before she knew what he was doing, he flipped her over on her stomach and opened her thighs with his knees. He grabbed her hair in one hand and pushed it over her shoulder, exposing her backside.
Pressing his body against hers, he leaned over and growled low in her ear, “Do you want this?”
“Yes,” she whimpered.
His cock nudged at her opening, but he didn't enter her. He nipped and licked at the delicate flesh beneath her ear and trailed his tongue over her shoulder. She squirmed beneath him, wanting him deep inside her.
The crack sounded before she could react, and she gasped at the sting of his palm across her bare ass.
“Tahdaon.” Her voice was a muffled sob against the pillow.
His tongue traced the line of her spine, his palm resting on the stinging flesh, his other hand cupping her wet mound. She bucked beneath him, needing more than he gave. His palm struck again, once, twice, pain mingled with pleasure. His fingers delved deep, opening her, preparing her body to receive him.
She whimpered in pleasure when he drove himself inside of her. She had never been taken from behind, and she shivered at the sensual brutality of it.
He pulled out, and just as she was about to protest, his palm slapped her ass as he drove deep inside once more. Groaning in pleasure, her hands fisted the sheets, and she held tight as he thrust hard. When her body erupted in pleasure, there was a violence to her climax that she had never experienced before.
He went still within her as her body recovered. She could feel his breath, hard and quick, against her cheek, and she knew he was holding onto his self-control by a thin thread, but instead of spending himself inside of her, he flipped her onto her back.
Nudging her thighs apart, he didn't hesitate to enter her, and she grasped hold of his hips as he buried himself deep, watching her with eyes the color of sapphires. The brown mote in his left eye glowed red in the fire's light, and Cara was awed at the power she saw reflected in his gaze.
“Tahdaon,” she whispered, running her hand up his chest and around his neck, drawing him downwards, so that his lips would meet hers.
His kiss was hesitant at first, tentative and wary, as if the very act took tore his very resolve from him, and then turned desperate, and he began to move in powerful strokes that matched his tongue's prodding.
More pleasure rippled through her body as he thrust himself deep and hard. She reveled in the sensation of his hard body pressing against her as he filled her fully.
She closed her eyes, and tilted her head back, as another wave of ecstasy coursed through her body. Gripping his shoulders, she cried out, as he shuddered with his own release.
He pressed his forehead against hers, and she could feel him trembling, his heart beating wildly against her own chest.
Gently she traced the white scar that crossed his jaw, and pressed her lips to his. His eyes opened and he gazed down at her with a look that broke her heart. He had distanced himself, drawn a shield over his emotions.
Her body was still quivering and pulsing as he drew out of her. He rolled onto his back, placing distance between them, but Cara knew that it was the distance he had placed in his heart that was their greatest barrier.
“I can't love you,” he said, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.
Cara blinked back tears. She knew better than to expect anything more from him, but his words still stung. She had never asked him to love her, and she wanted to yell it at him. To tell him she didn't want his love, but she knew it was a lie.
“I know,” she whispered, drawing the blankets over her body, and closing her eyes.
He didn't leave as she thought he would, but he also didn't offer to hold her and that was almost worse.
She turned on her side and tried to ignore the ache that had settled in her chest.
Minutes later, he stirred beside her.
“Cara?” His voice was gruff and tinged with regret.
She almost turned, almost acknowledged the desperation she heard in his voice, but something stopped her. It would do neither of them any good to ask him for more than he could give. She kept her eyes closed and pretended to sleep.
He breathed out heavily and she heard him curse as he rose from the bed and dressed himself. She didn't hear the door open, but when he didn't return to bed, she figured he must have slipped out. Pulling the blankets tighter around herself, she allowed her tears to fall.
He had done what she asked. He had helped her forget the pain of the day's events, but the price was another misery. One that she didn't know if she could bear.
Chapter 23
In her dream, Cara fled from the darkness that pursued her, but no matter how fast she ran, she could feel it twisting its cold wet hands around her legs, grasping at her bare arms, and clawing at her face.
Choking and fighting for breath, she cried to Annul to save her, but no help came.
Batch stood before her, covered in blood, his body twisted and grotesque. His eyes were black holes, empty of life.
“You're not real,” she cried, covering her face with her hands.
“Cara.”
It was Finn's voice that called out to her, and when she lowered her hands, she saw him, his flesh torn and shredded, maggots crawled from the empty crevices where his eyes should be. Behind him lay a pile of broken bodies, arms and legs twisted unnaturally, their faces barely recognizable, and yet she knew somehow that it was the grave of her men.
From the bloody mound of bodies, a snake slithered and hissed, growing larger as it came closer to her, wrapping itself around her legs and torso, until she couldn't move, and only stare in horror as it bared its fangs.
She screamed as it struck, feeling it pierce her skin, its poison spreading throughout her body. As she lay crumpled on the ground, the snake altered its shape, taking the image of a man. His laugh echoed above her, as she withered in pain and begged for death to take her.
Edmund stood hovering over her, half man, half snake, his blue eyes glazed with madness. His lips curled in a sneer as he raised a knife above her heart. She screamed in agony as he brought the blade downwards, slicing through flesh and bone.
She felt the pain as if it were real, but already the dim haze of consciousness altered the landscape around her.
Ga
sping for air, she opened her eyes and blinked at the harsh morning light that spilled through the open window.
It was just a dream. A nightmare. The images fled away, but the sense of darkness stayed with her, causing her heart to beat wildly in her chest.
She drew in a sharp breath and exhaled slowly, taking account of her surroundings.
A heavy arm pinned her to the bed. For a moment, she thought that Tahdaon had come back, but even before she turned, she knew the rich musky scent belonged to Finn.
“Good morning.”
His eyes were still heavy with sleep, as he kissed the tip of her nose, and positioned himself so that she could lie with her head on his chest.
“Where's Tahdaon?” she asked reluctantly.
There was a moment of strained silence before he answered. “He's with Cush.”
She nodded and toyed with the fair hair that was lightly scattered across his chest.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.
She shook her head, not trusting her voice.
Nuzzling closer to him, she didn't resist when he flipped her over on her back and began kissing her.
He brushed the hair away from her face and stared down at her.
“I love you,” he whispered, gently kissing her forehead, nose, and lips.
She smiled against his mouth. He didn't wait or ask for her to reciprocate his sentiment, and for that she was glad. While her feelings were stronger for Finn than anything she had ever experienced before, she couldn't bring herself to say the words. Instead, she drew him close, and he sank between her thighs with a groan.
Their remaining time in Colechester passed without incident. Cara didn't ask Tahdaon to visit her chambers again, but she did, despite protest, make sure that the men were continually paired together. Fear made her overcautious, and even though the men complained bitterly, she insisted that it was for their own protection.
Wesley's uncle threw an elaborate ceremony on midwinter's eve, but despite the Viceroy's endeavors, Batch's death had cast a dark shadow across the celebration, and the mood was far from jovial. Even the obnoxious Lady Hadlee had the good graces to appear somber throughout the remainder of their visit.