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Authors: Amber Scott
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put under the copse of branches or gamble three lives on making it to
Breanne’s.
He
prayed he would not end up being too late.
~
“Kristoph,”
Maera murmured.
Ailyn’s
pulse leapt. The man’s name felt like a grip on her throat, drawing memories to
the surface she’d fought to bury. The queen’s aide. Liar. Manipulator. The man
who nearly stole Ailyn’s virtue one rainy afternoon in a narrow alcove just
outside the queen’s bedroom. Ailyn hugged her waist, leaning in to hear Maera
better as she murmured in her sleep.
She
laid her hand on her princess’ arm. Her skin was so cold. “Kristoph? Maera,
what are you saying?”
Her
eyes shot open. The deep green orbs struggled to focus on Ailyn’s face. “Is he
gone?”
“Who?”
Kristoph? Quinlan?
Maera
closed her eyes a moment. Her hand reached for Ailyn. She took it. Maera’s
cold, trembling hold hearkened the memory again. Ailyn’s throat constricted. As
though Kristoph held her by it, the cold stone wall barring escape, his breath
too sweet-smelling, his face so close to hers.
You are mine. His words yet echoed .
His
hands had roved her face, down her throat, a finger pausing to feel the
heartbeat at her jugular.
“Mine,”
he’d said, tapping her pulse.
Her
brown-blooded skills couldn’t unravel the magick he’d bound her unmovable with.
She could not scream. She could not even whimper.
Maera
squeezed her hand, bringing Ailyn back to the present.
“Ailyn,”
she said, worry in her tone. She glanced about. “Oh no, Ailyn! You followed me.
Don’t you understand? You cannot be here!”
“Too
late, Maera. I am here. And you’re hurt.”
Maera’s
hands went to her stomach. “How badly? Is there blood?”
“Aye.
Blood aplenty, but how badly I dinna ken.” Frustration with her princess
climbed up her ribs. “The man who saved you will return with a healer. Your
wings, Maera. They’re torn, possibly broken.”
Maera
shook her head, vehement. “My wings dinna matter. You must leave, Ailyn. You
must return through the veil.”
“Not
without you.” The veil was gone. Ailyn shook her head. “I’ll not leave your
side again. Twice this night, I’ve done so and regretted it. Whatever it is
you’re after here, surely your kingdom canno’ be worth such risk.”
“Do
you think I’d have done this had I any other choice? I am here because my
kingdom is worth my very life. More than my life.” She tried to sit up, winced
with the effort then lay back down with a groan. She ran her hands over her face
and sighed. “Ailyn, as your liege, I order you. Leave here. At once.”
Ailyn
stood, anger ebbing up her chest, warming her cheeks. She placed her hands on
her hips and stared Maera down. “Or what?” she asked.
Chapter Six
For almost an hour, Quinlan had sat crouched in the
cold wetness, his teeth a-chatter, when a faint glow in the distance sent his
neck hairs standing. He shifted his weight, squinting into the darkness.
The faint glimmer of light drew nearer.
Ailyn? Had she tried to follow? How could she keep a
flame lit in this deluge? Och, curses. ’ Twasn’t Ailyn
at all. Long before her wide belly came into view or her pale, sodden curls
caught the candle’s light to confirm his suspicions, Quinlan knew in his bones
that Breanne had come for him.
“Ho, there!” he called, hurrying out to meet her and
guide her to his pitiful shelter. Daft females! “Breanne.”
“Quin? Oh, blessed be! I was beginning to fear my
vision was a dream after all, and for naught; or worse, that I’d come too
late.”
“Too late?” He took her by the elbow, resisting the
urge to shake her arm. “What fool errand could be worth risking the babe for?
I’m doubting yer husband would approve of you venturing into a storm.”
“I take offense to that. Ashlon knows better than to
keep me like a pet, Quinlan. You’ll mind the same, should you ever lose your
heart to a strong-minded woman. Mark my
put under the copse of branches or gamble three lives on making it to
Breanne’s.
He
prayed he would not end up being too late.
~
“Kristoph,”
Maera murmured.
Ailyn’s
pulse leapt. The man’s name felt like a grip on her throat, drawing memories to
the surface she’d fought to bury. The queen’s aide. Liar. Manipulator. The man
who nearly stole Ailyn’s virtue one rainy afternoon in a narrow alcove just
outside the queen’s bedroom. Ailyn hugged her waist, leaning in to hear Maera
better as she murmured in her sleep.
She
laid her hand on her princess’ arm. Her skin was so cold. “Kristoph? Maera,
what are you saying?”
Her
eyes shot open. The deep green orbs struggled to focus on Ailyn’s face. “Is he
gone?”
“Who?”
Kristoph? Quinlan?
Maera
closed her eyes a moment. Her hand reached for Ailyn. She took it. Maera’s
cold, trembling hold hearkened the memory again. Ailyn’s throat constricted. As
though Kristoph held her by it, the cold stone wall barring escape, his breath
too sweet-smelling, his face so close to hers.
You are mine. His words yet echoed .
His
hands had roved her face, down her throat, a finger pausing to feel the
heartbeat at her jugular.
“Mine,”
he’d said, tapping her pulse.
Her
brown-blooded skills couldn’t unravel the magick he’d bound her unmovable with.
She could not scream. She could not even whimper.
Maera
squeezed her hand, bringing Ailyn back to the present.
“Ailyn,”
she said, worry in her tone. She glanced about. “Oh no, Ailyn! You followed me.
Don’t you understand? You cannot be here!”
“Too
late, Maera. I am here. And you’re hurt.”
Maera’s
hands went to her stomach. “How badly? Is there blood?”
“Aye.
Blood aplenty, but how badly I dinna ken.” Frustration with her princess
climbed up her ribs. “The man who saved you will return with a healer. Your
wings, Maera. They’re torn, possibly broken.”
Maera
shook her head, vehement. “My wings dinna matter. You must leave, Ailyn. You
must return through the veil.”
“Not
without you.” The veil was gone. Ailyn shook her head. “I’ll not leave your
side again. Twice this night, I’ve done so and regretted it. Whatever it is
you’re after here, surely your kingdom canno’ be worth such risk.”
“Do
you think I’d have done this had I any other choice? I am here because my
kingdom is worth my very life. More than my life.” She tried to sit up, winced
with the effort then lay back down with a groan. She ran her hands over her face
and sighed. “Ailyn, as your liege, I order you. Leave here. At once.”
Ailyn
stood, anger ebbing up her chest, warming her cheeks. She placed her hands on
her hips and stared Maera down. “Or what?” she asked.
Chapter Six
For almost an hour, Quinlan had sat crouched in the
cold wetness, his teeth a-chatter, when a faint glow in the distance sent his
neck hairs standing. He shifted his weight, squinting into the darkness.
The faint glimmer of light drew nearer.
Ailyn? Had she tried to follow? How could she keep a
flame lit in this deluge? Och, curses. ’ Twasn’t Ailyn
at all. Long before her wide belly came into view or her pale, sodden curls
caught the candle’s light to confirm his suspicions, Quinlan knew in his bones
that Breanne had come for him.
“Ho, there!” he called, hurrying out to meet her and
guide her to his pitiful shelter. Daft females! “Breanne.”
“Quin? Oh, blessed be! I was beginning to fear my
vision was a dream after all, and for naught; or worse, that I’d come too
late.”
“Too late?” He took her by the elbow, resisting the
urge to shake her arm. “What fool errand could be worth risking the babe for?
I’m doubting yer husband would approve of you venturing into a storm.”
“I take offense to that. Ashlon knows better than to
keep me like a pet, Quinlan. You’ll mind the same, should you ever lose your
heart to a strong-minded woman. Mark my
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