Page 34 of Heart of the Shadow King

I step into the room, shut the door softly behind me. On silent feet I cross to her bed and gaze down at her. She lies with one arm tossed back over her head, her face tipped a little to one side. Her lips are parted, and her chest rises and falls with the gentle rhythm of her breaths. She is so lovely—I could stand here untillusterlingadmiring every aspect of her face and form and never once grow weary. Once I wondered if I could learn to find her beautiful. The truth is, I always did. I simply wasn’t ready to admit it. Hers is a beauty that cut me to the quick from the first moment I saw her.

Guilt coils in my gut. I cannot help the love I feel. I would die for her. I would kill for her. But now I must send others to their deaths for her sake. Who can absolve me of this sin?

She stirs, her brow knotting as though even in sleep she feels the tension in my soul. It is unfair to her and her gods-gift to bring such terrible emotions here. And we have so little time left.

I drop to my knees beside the bed and gently run one knuckle down the length of her arm. She shivers a little, turns toward me. Her eyelids move, flutter, then blink open. For a moment, confusion mars her face. She blinks again, and her vision clarifies. Her mouth breaks into a smile that knocks the breath from my lungs. “Vor!” she whispers.

The sound of my name on her lips is more than I can resist. I bend over and kiss her. I couldn’t stop myself if I tried. She wraps her arms around my neck, pulls me down to her, and I let all thoughts, all fears go. I will not dwell on the news I’ve come to share with her. Let us once more enter a world that belongs only to the two of us and forget all other worlds exist.

So, I kiss her. Again and again. Kiss her until her eyes close, and her mouth opens, and her whole body gives over to my lips, my touch, my urgent craving. It is the work of a moment to pull her nightgown free of her shoulders, to tug the fabric away from her trembling flesh. I run my hands over her breasts, her hips, slip my fingers between her legs. She gasps for air, her beautiful breasts, so perfectly formed to fit the palms of my hands, rising and falling alluringly. I cannot resist the temptation, and bend to kiss them, suckling at her nipples while she laughs and runs her fingers through my hair. “Oh, Vor! I could have sworn I was dreaming! But this is really you, isn’t it?”

“What do you think?” I murmur the words against her skin. “Is the Vor of your dreams as skilled as I?”

She shakes her head, catching another breath as I lick and tease her. My fingers part her tender flesh, bringing heat rushing at my command. She’s so responsive to my touch, like a fine instrument perfectly tuned. Every movement of her body excites me. It’s more than I can resist to venture between her legs and taste her eagerness. And when she cries out in ecstatic release, pure joy rushes through my soul. I never would have thought such joy could be mine. Not until I met her. Not until I knew her.

When her shivering pleasure subsides, I kiss my way back up her abdomen, between her breasts, nibbling at her neck and ear as I stretch myself alongside her on the narrow bed. She lies replete in my love, her face flushed and shining and so very beautiful. I run a finger along the curve of her breast and hip until she rolls toward me, hooking her leg around mine, pressing her body flush against me. “I feel I am at a disadvantage,” she says, toying with the laces of my shirt. “You appear to be wearing a great deal more clothing than I.”

I smile and rest my head against her forehead but grip her hand tight when she begins to pull at the ties. “Vor?” Her brow puckers against mine before she draws back. Something in my soul communicates to her, and a dart of pain flashes across her face. “Vor, what’s wrong? Something justshudderedthrough you. Something bad.”

I sigh and squeeze her hand a little tighter. Then, pushing away, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and rest my elbows on my knees, head hanging. She sits upright. After a heartbeat’s hesitation, she rests her hand on my shoulder and gently pushes back my hair. “Vor, talk to me.”

I don’t want to. I don’t want to tell her what’s happened. I don’t want to bring the knowledge of our imminent parting into this space. But I cannot keep it from her, no matter how I wish to. “Your brother is here,” I say heavily.

A confused silence lasts for the count of three breaths. Then she gasps, “Oh!” and retreats from me. Her loose nightgown is still bunched up around her waist. To my sorrow she unconsciously draws the sleeves back onto her shoulders, covering her nakedness. “My father has summoned you to battle.”

I nod.

“And you will go?”

“I must.”

Another silence. We both know what we did lastdimness.We both know what the consummation of our marriage means for me and my people.

Faraine shakes her head, her fair hair tossing about her shoulders. “I will go with you.” I bite back a smile. “Why do you laugh?” she demands. “I will go with you. I will stay with you, care for you. Serve in whatever capacity I may.”

I can almost picture it: Faraine astride a morleth, riding in formation beside me, adorned in child-sized troldish armor. Stolen moments tangled up together in my tent, the stink of battle and blood surrounding us as we try to make each other forget all we have endured. It’s a tempting fantasy.

“Faraine,” I say, my voice low, “how can I commit myself to the fight, to the leadership and protection of my warriors, if you are with me? I will be first and foremost concerned with you, with your safety.” I touch her cheek, run my knuckle under her chin and tip her face back, forcing her to look at me. “Perhaps you would prefer to wait out the war in Beldroth. You should be safe there.”

“Safe? In my father’s house?” Faraine shudders. We both know Larongar would like nothing more than to have my wife in his clutches. No doubt he would soon recognize the feelings which have blossomed between his ally and his daughter and work to leverage our love to his advantage. She would be no safer in Beldroth than here in Mythanar, impending apocalypse notwithstanding.

“Hael will remain,” I say, changing the course of conversation. “I’ve commanded her to watch over you. And, while I don’t know what good it will do, Theodre is to stay as well.”

Faraine’s eyebrows knit. “Why would Father send Theodre here? He is the crown prince.”

I shrug. “Perhaps the prince is proof of intent. Insurance that Larongar will honor his part of our agreement.”

She shakes her head. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

She’s not wrong. But what can we do? Nothing will change the magic binding which even now drives me to ride for her world. I feel it choking, pulling, every moment, every breath. Until I have fulfilled the agreement, I will never be free.

I press her hand against my heart. “I’ll return in a month, my love.”

She meets my gaze, smiling softly. “And you think Ruvaen will be so easily put to flight?”

“Ruvaen does not have my motivation to succeed.” I lift her hand to my lips then, kissing her knuckles. “I will bring the Miphates back with me. They will use their magic to put an end to the stirrings and save Mythanar.”

“You mean for them to slay the dragon?”

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