Aftermath

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Author: Burton Jaci

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An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Aftermath

ISBN # 1-4199-0517-1 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Aftermath Copyright© 2006 Jaci Burton Edited by Briana St. James Cover art by Syneca.

Electronic book Publication: February 2006

This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

Warning:


The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers.This book has been rated E–rotic by a minimum of three independent reviewers.

Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (E-rotic), and X (X-treme).

S-ensuouslove scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination.

E-roticlove scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall word count. In addition, some E-rated titles might contain fantasy material that some readers find objectionable, such as bondage, submission, same sex encounters, forced seductions, and so forth. E-ratedtitles are the most graphic titles we carry; it is common, for instance, for an author to use words such as “fucking”, “cock”, “pussy”, and such within their work of literature.

X-tremetitles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storylineexecution. Unlike E-rated titles, stories designated with the letter X tend to contain controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart. Kismet: Aftermath Jaci Burton Dedication

To the Breakfast Bitches, for…breakfast and bitching, of course. To Shan, for your obsession with Roarke. To Mandy, for your love of the faeries…okay, so it’s also an obsession. That’s why I adore you. To Bree, for your all-over obsession with the faeries…and for making me do these *snicker*. To Charlie, as always, for putting up with this madness and loving me anyway.

Prologue


Trista swallowed sharply and gaped at the castle of Braedon, King of Greenbriar. Harsh afternoon sunlight sparkled along the water in the moat. Soon, she would do what she’d come here to do. Tell Braedon of Greenbriar that her sister Solara would not marry him. Once Solara was released from her bonds, Braedon would be free to marry someone else. Someone other than Trista’s sister, who loved Roarke, Garick’s right hand and friend. It was Roarke who was Solara’s destiny, not this southern king. She glanced over at Garick, her brother-in-law. Her sister Noele had been most fortunate to fall in love with her betrothed, the King of Winterland. And now Solara had fallen in love with Garick’s protector, Roarke. Trista would make sure Solara was allowed the freedom to choose Roarke. She found the custom of faerie princesses being required to marry a king antiquated and ludicrous. Why could they not choose their own mates? What if one was betrothed to a king they did not love? Would they be forever doomed to a life of misery? Nay, this would never happen to her. Or to Solara. Which was why she hid Solara’s note from the others. They thought her sister was missing, though Solara had only gone off to think. But her trick bought Solara some time, and brought her here as emissary for her sister. She would speak up on behalf of Solara and break this chain of forced marriages once and for all. Her father would be upset with her, at least for a while. But he would eventually see reason. They all needed to see reason. Could they not see how much Roarke and Solara loved another? ‘Twas not fair that she be forced to marry a man she did not love. No one should marry if they were not in love. Trista never would, no matter what they told her she had to do. She would find a man who made her heart sing with love, her body vibrate with desire. Not a match selected for her by anyone else, but one she chose for herself. “You are deep in thought, daughter,” her father said, turning around to look at her. Trista managed a tight smile for her father. “I am anxious to return to Winterland to see my sisters.” Her father nodded. “Soon enough, little one. As soon as we deliver the message of Solara’s delay to King Braedon, we will return to Winterland, find Solara and bring her here where she belongs.” Solara didnot belong here. As they rode through the gates and approached the entourage of men standing in the middle of the courtyard, she summoned up all her strength to do what was necessary to release her sister. Sometimes fate needed a small nudge in the right direction. Peering around the ample girth of her father, her eyes widened as the giant in the center of the crowd came into view. “Stars,” she whispered against her father’s back. The man was beautiful. His body had surely been shaped by celestial beings. Broad-shouldered, muscles stretched taut against his leather jerkins, lean-waisted with strong legs.


For the first time in her life, Trista was incapable of speech. Not a very good thing, considering what she must do. “Braedon of Greenbriar, we finally meet. I am Garick of Winterland.” This was Braedon, king of the southern lands? Perhaps she was remiss in keeping Solara from such a fine specimen of man. No, not true. No matter his beautiful appearance, this man was not destined for Solara. “‘Tis good to finally meet the king of the northern lands.” He held out his hand and clasped Garick’s. “This is the father of my bride and king of D’Naath, Fraynor. He is also the father of your betrothed, Solara.” Her father nodded and also shook Braedon’s hand. “I welcome you to Greenbriar.” Once again, the strange male stared at her. Surely he didn’t think she was Solara. If so, she would have to correct that misconception immediately. She was not destined to marry this man. Open your mouth and say something, Trista, before your father or Garick do. It would have to be now or she would have made the trip for nothing. She stepped boldly in front of her father, trying to quell the shaking of her legs. Braedon frowned as she stood before him and looked her up and down, assessing her from head to foot. Heat that had nothing to do with the sun had her flapping her wings to create a cooling breeze. She tried a polite smile, but his facial expression did not change. Did the man know how to smile? Maybe he was completely toothless. A grim line sealed his lips together. Where was her voice? She swallowed and tried to speak, but no sound came out. If she did not say something soon, all would be lost. “Braedon of Greenbriar, I am Trista, faerie princess of D’Naath and younger sister of your betrothed, Solara. I wish to speak.” Her voice quaked and squeaked, but she pressed on. The last thing she wanted was for her father or Garick to stop her. Braedon arched a brow then nodded. “State your piece.” Breathing a sigh of relief that he had given her permission to continue, she nodded, wiping the sweat from her palms onto her shift. “Trista,” her father warned under his breath. She ignored him. You can do this, Trista. Remember, it is for Solara. “I am here to ask for release for Solara. It is my right as kin to request that you choose another bride


and that Solara be released from her betrothal to you.” “Trista!” She winced at the sound of her father’s booming voice, refusing to turn around and face what she knew would be his very angry face. Braedon’s lips curved slightly upward in what could only be described as a sneer. Perhaps that was his way of smiling? Surely the stories of his grumbling personality were not true. No one could have as sour a disposition as he had been rumored to have. He crossed his arms and regarded her. “So your sister does not wish to marry me.” It was not a question, yet she answered anyway. “No, she does not.” Garick reached for her arm. “Trista, be silent!” Braedon held up his hand. “Let her speak freely.” Garick’s grip on her arm loosened. For a moment she was afraid Garick was going to toss her onto the back of her horse and drag her out of the castle. She knew she was going to be in deep trouble with both her father and Garick when they left, but if this worked, her sister would be free to choose her own man. She would risk their punishment for Solara’s release. “Trista, tell me. Did your sister send you here to inform me she did not wish to marry me?” If she told him the truth, he could still ask for Solara to hear the words from her directly. She hated lying, but it was the only way. “Yes.” “May I speak, Braedon?” her father interrupted. “Yes.” “It is vital you marry a D’Naath princess. Our lands are bound to be joined by custom and law, which can only be done with the marriage of a faerie princess and the king of Greenbriar. In joining, we have strength against the armies of wizards bound to take over our lands. I ask that you reconsider this foolishness spouted by my daughter and allow us to bring Solara to you.” “I am aware of the protocol, Fraynor. I am also aware your daughter Solara has every right to beg release from our betrothal contract. And it appears that through Trista she has exercised that right.” Braedon rubbed his thumb over his bottom lip. Trista wondered if he did that while thinking. His mouth was generous, and she had a fleeting image of tugging on his lip with her teeth. Shocked at the direction of her mind, she inhaled sharply and forced her mind to stay clear of such thoughts. “Are all your daughters betrothed, Fraynor?” “Nay. Trista here was betrothed to the King of Boreas, who as I’m sure you know suffered an untimely death several years ago.”


“Ah yes, I had heard that.” Trista frowned. Something was amiss here, something she hadn’t considered when she’d concocted her plan. Why were they discussing her and the death of her original betrothed? What did this have to do with Solara? “It is required that I marry a princess of D’Naath. Since one princess has invoked the right of refusal, perhaps I will take this one as my betrothed instead.” Trista’s heart dropped to her stomach when Braedon pointed at her. “No!” she cried, then clamped her mouth shut and closed her eyes, mortified at her own outburst. “Trista!” her father hissed in her ear. “Enough of your talk. I think you have spoken enough. It is my turn now.” Before she could turn and beseech her father not to take Braedon’s suggestion seriously, he grasped her by the elbow and propelled her forward. Despite digging her slippered heels into the hard ground, her father dragged her easily. She stumbled into the arms of the king. He wrapped his arms around her to hold her upright, his body as solid as the trunks of the tall oaks in D’Naath’s forest. Afraid to even look at his face, she focused only on his chest. That is, until he tipped her chin upward with his finger. She squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to open them. This was all a very bad dream, and soon she would wake up back in Winterland again, with her sisters around her. They would laugh at her nightmare and her foolishness. “Open your eyes, faerie.” No dream, that voice. Like the darkest, sultriest night of summer, it called to her with sensual promise of delight and wicked pleasures. She lifted her lids. His blue eyes mesmerized her, made her forget things she should not forget, made her all too aware of things she should not be thinking. A wisp of awareness caught in his gaze. A subtle sensuality like a cloud passing over a bright, sunlit day. Just as quickly as it appeared, ‘twas gone from his eyes, replaced instead with a coldness that chilled her. “Aye, this one will do. After all, one bride is as good as another. Trista, princess of D’Naath, I claim you for my betrothed. We will marry in one month, allowing us time to get to know one another and for preparations to be made. This will suit you, Fraynor?” She waited for her father to deny the request. Instead, he said, “You are most kind to accept my daughter Trista. I am honored to betroth her to you.” Despite the warmth of the morning, a cold dread filled her body. This could not be happening. Chapter One


Trista stood in the courtyard of Greenbriar, sweat beading between her breasts as she watched her father and Garick mount up their horses. She held her palm against her forehead to shield her eyes from the glaring sunlight of midday. They had arrived but one day ago, and already they were leaving. In such a short period of time, her entire world had changed. Now, instead of Trista accompanying them back to Winterland, she was being left behind! Despite her vehement protests, her father decreed that since she had foolishly requested Solara be released from her betrothal, Trista would remain in Greenbriar and marry Braedon, the King. How had this happened? How could such a simple plan spiral so out of her control? She had meant only to release Solara from her betrothal. Nowhere in Trista’s plans had she considered she would be forced to marry King Braedon instead. “Let this be a lesson to you, daughter,” her father said, his mouth set in a grim line. He mounted his horse and looked down at her. “You will reap what you sow.” “Father, you cannot leave me alone here!” she pleaded, wringing her hands and desperately trying to come up with a plan that would extricate her from this predicament. “I meant no harm to Solara nor to King Braedon. Solara belongs with Roarke.” Her father frowned. “‘Twas not your place to say. However, King Braedon has graciously offered to accept you as his betrothed. Behave yourself, young lady.” Trista looked to Garick but found no sympathy in his frozen gaze. Instead, his voice dripped a cold ice so like his homeland. “If I had the time, I would turn you over my knee and give you the spanking you so richly deserve. You must learn not to meddle in others’ affairs.” Her continued protests fell on deaf ears. They turned their horses and headed out through the main gates, the contingent of Winterland guards trailing behind them. She stood rooted to the spot until she could no longer see them. Despite the sweltering heat and the thick shift she wore threatening to smother her, she refused to budge, refused to turn around and face what was behind her. Greenbriar. King Braedon. He cleared his throat. She could not very well stand and melt in his courtyard, though the idea was somewhat appealing. She turned, clasping her sweating palms behind her. Now what was she going to do? She had been lucky before. The king originally chosen for her betrothed had died an untimely death, leaving her without a match. Which suited her just fine. She did not wish to marry anyone she hadn’t selected for herself. A pox on these antiquated laws! Why could she not choose? Although if one had to make a choice, at least in appearance, Braedon of Greenbriar would be a most


appealing option. Though she was shocked to discover the inhabitants of Greenbriar were humans, she could not fault the appearance of the king. Sun-streaked dark blond hair hung to his shoulders, looking windblown and eminently touchable. He wore a closely cropped beard that gave him the look of a fierce warrior. His blue eyes sparkled like the turquoise southern ocean. Truly a beautiful face to behold. Although it would be much more appealing if he smiled, which she had not seen him do yet. Then again, she had avoided him completely for the past day, hoping he would not seek her out. He had not, instead spending all his time with Garick and her father. She had been sent to the bedchambers and forced to remain there until someone had called her to meals. No one had come to visit her, no one had made overtures of friendship or greeting. It was as if each person stayed to themselves. As far as she could tell, there was no socializing here. She would never survive this place. “Are you going to stand there and die of heatstroke, or will you come into the shade of the keep?” Ignoring the clipped tone of Braedon’s voice, she sighed and said, “I suppose I have no choice but to comply.” When he turned away and strode through the inner gates, she followed. Once inside, blissful shade from the overhanging and tall trees offered respite from the heat. “Is it always so hot here?” she asked, hurrying her step to keep up with him. “Yes.” “There are pools in the D’Naathian forest inside the gates of your property. Do your people swim there?” “No.” Well, that would have to change soon enough. Her delicate skin would never survive this wicked heat without constant cooling. “I will bathe there.” He stopped so suddenly she almost ran into his back but halted herself in time. Turning to face her, he scowled and leaned down as if speaking to a child. Now he stood practically nose to nose with her. Stars, he was a handsome man. Square jaw, a long nose and lips that begged to be kissed. Her body heated, though this time not from the sun. “You will not bathe there.” When he pivoted and resumed his brisk walk through the inner courtyard, she hurried again to keep up. “Why not?” “‘Tis not safe.” “Of course ‘tis safe. ‘Tis my forest.”


“You may think so, however the wizards claim the D’Naathian forests as theirs.” Hmph. As if those skeletal creatures had a say-so in the land of the faerie. “The wizards are mistaken and do not dare venture into the forests of the faerie. Truly your people would be safe there.” He did not answer her, just kept walking. “What happens now?” she asked. “Now I am going to practice sword fighting with my men.” “What am I supposed to do?” He halted again and turned to regard her, starting at the top of her head, raking his gaze over her breasts, hips and legs. When he looked up again, his eyes had darkened and she felt the shocking warmth of his desire. Yet his words did not match his emotions. “I do not care what you do. It is your job to run the keep.” “I do not know how to run a keep.” He rolled his eyes. “Then learn. You have one month until we marry.” He turned and started off, but she caught up with him and grabbed his muscular upper arm. All her efforts at politeness fled with his abrupt dismissal. “Wait, Braedon. First, I will not be marrying you. Second, I know nothing of running a keep. Third, you are incredibly rude. Where do I sleep? Who is going to show me around? Will I be introduced to your people?” A crowd had begun to gather. Curious spectators, all strangers to her. There was no point scanning the crowd for an ally. She already knew she was completely alone here. “First, you will marry me because as king I have decreed it so. Second, you will have to learn how to run the keep because it is the queen’s job to oversee everything. Third, I am not rude. I am busy and have no time for you.” No time…the audacity of the man! How dare he speak to his betrothed this way? “You will need to make time for me.” He advanced on her, but she held her ground, refusing to be bullied by this…this…bully. His breath sailed across her cheek as he looked down at her. “What is your name again?” She was to be his wife and he did not even recall her name? “Trista.” She resisted the urge to spell it for him. “All right. Trista. Follow me.” Finally, they were getting somewhere. She hurried as his long strides took them to the stone keep at the center of the inner courtyard. He entered through an archway and then through a wooden door.


The smells of baked bread filled the warm air around them. So did the heat, nearly oppressive. She backed away from the ovens. “Aunt Nadine. This is Trista, my betrothed. She apparently has not yet been educated how to run a keep. Teach her all that she needs to know. We marry in one month’s time.” “Of course, Braedon.” Trista offered a tenuous smile to the woman he called Nadine, a white-haired woman in her older years. Her face was round, not yet filled with lines like some of the ancient ones. The woman was tall. All humans were tall. Much taller than Trista, as well as most faerie males. Braedon was the tallest human of all. Not unlike the elvin males she knew, except for a few differences in their facial features, especially his ears. They were rounded instead of pointed. How odd. And of course, all human males must be unpleasantly surly. At least this one was. Well, she could be just as gruff and unlikable as he was. In fact, if she was unpleasant enough, perhaps he would release her from their betrothal. Yes, a very good idea! Braedon turned to leave. “Wait!” He stopped and arched a brow. “What now?” She offered him her sweetest smile. “I simply wish to inform you that I will not marry a rude, inconsiderate barbarian such as yourself.” Braedon rolled his eyes and turned to his aunt. “Please keep her occupied so that she does not bother me. She is as annoying as a fly swirling around shit.” Trista’s mouth hung open and she forced it closed. Before she could recover enough to offer a retort, he had slammed the kitchen door behind him. Well! This would not do at all. She would simply have to find a way to get a message to her father and have him fetch her. She refused to marry Braedon. No matter what her father ordered her to do. She would run away if she had to, but she would not marry him. “He is somewhat brusque in manner,” Nadine said, sliding her arm around Trista’s shoulders. The woman smelled of yeast. And cinnamon. And reminded her of home and warmth. She inhaled and closed her eyes, wishing she were standing in the dining room of her castle in D’Naath. Or even Winterland, with her sisters. She missed her sisters. Would she ever see them again? “He is an oaf and crude,” Trista announced to the doorway where Braedon last stood, as if the very act of doing so would make him hear her insult.


“Aye, that he is at times. But underneath, his heart is good.” Bah! The man obviously had no heart. Stone was more like it. Cold, unfeeling stone. ***** Braedon brushed his hair away from his face and the sweat along with it. Unfortunately, he could not brush the faerie princess from his mind. He definitely did not want her on his mind. Or on his land. Not that he had much choice in the matter. Duty forced him to marry and marry he would. Which faerie he wed did not matter. What mattered was annexing the land leading into the D’Naathian forest. Their treaty with the faerie would be sealed with his wedding to Trista. The D’Naathian and Greenbriar lands would forge a strong vantage point against the wizards attempting to gain a foothold in the southern regions. Aye, this marriage was a good thing in that respect. So marry Trista he would. After that, he would have no further use for her. Though shewas a beauty. A breathtaking one at that. He was typically not interested in women for anything other than a quick fuck and sexual release. But he had been taken aback at his first sight of the faerie princess. Long hair the color of soft mink cascaded down her back, the ends curling near her shapely buttocks. Her wings were the green of a summer meadow, shot through with threads of shimmering gold. That same gold flecked her skin and colored her eyes. Truly, she sparkled like a rare gem. Until she opened her mouth, that is. Then she harped incessantly like an old shrew. If that was what he had to look forward to from her, there would be separate bedchambers. He wondered if he would have to bind her mouth during mating or if he would be lucky enough that she would shut up when he fucked her. Not that he was profoundly interested in mating with her anyway. He would do what was required to produce heirs and nothing more. His focus would remain, as always, on the threat of war. Not on a woman. Pleasures of the flesh, like any type of frivolity, only led to trouble. Swinging the heavy sword in an arc over his head, it clashed against his opponent’s sword and knocked the man backwards. Satisfied, he nodded at the guard and went off in search of water, wiping his face with his jerkin. He stopped at the fountain and stuck his head underneath, letting the cool water wash away the steamy heat and sweat from his body. After scooping a handful to drink, he headed for the keep, intent on whiling away the heat of the afternoon on business and paperwork. When he reached his office he sighed, grateful that the stone rendered the keep cooler than what they had to face outside. What he wouldn’t give to bathe his body in a cool forest spring.


Swimming in the water of the forest, indeed. Was the girl insane? No one could enter the D’Naathian forest until after he and Trista were wed. The property did not yet belong to him, even though a portion of the woodland had long ago spread inside the walls of Greenbriar. No, she would not be bathing there. His cock twitched and sprang to life as he allowed himself a few moments to ponder a vision of Trista naked and bathing in one of the faerie land’s springs. She had a ripe body, just entering her womanhood. Curves in all the right places, full, high breasts that strained against her shift and hips made for a man’s hands to grasp. Her lips were ripe cherries against her pale skin, luscious and full and begging to take a cock between them. His erection pulsed fully now. How long had it been since he had slaked his lust between a woman’s thighs? Too damn long. That was his problem, and one he intended to rectify soon. Then thoughts of the lusty faerie would flee his mind and he would waste no more time thinking of her. He lived a solitary existence and preferred it that way. He cared for, sheltered and protected the people of Greenbriar. They had no complaints of their treatment. If he was not kind and engaging with them, so be it. They had long ago learned he would not be that type of king. That type of king had died the day the wizards struck down his father. His father had enjoyed games, parties and making merry with the townspeople. He had not taken care of his guards, had not seen to their training. He lived his life under a cloud of denial, refusing to believe the wizards possessed the strength enough to invade Greenbriar. His father’s arrogance had cost him his life. Losing his mother not long after had made Braedon realize the only person he could count on was himself. The only one the people of Greenbriar could count on was him. He would protect them by remaining steadfast and focused on war, on preparation. Not on frivolity. And never on love. Chapter Two

Trista remained in the kitchens with Nadine, despite the unbearable heat emanating from the ovens. She had made a half-hearted attempt to learn what to oversee as far as kitchen supplies and meal preparation. But her mind had been elsewhere, devising a plan to return to her beloved forest. Surely her father would see reason soon enough, realize his folly in having left her with Braedon. Her father loved her, she knew. So did her mother. He was merely trying to teach her a lesson by leaving her with King Braedon. But it would not work this time. No lesson was being learned here.


And when her mother found out what her father had done, there would be hell to pay. She was simply biding her time until her father returned for her. While she was waiting, there was no reason to be impolite. After all,she had been raised not to be rude to people. Unfortunately that same type of upbringing apparently had not been given to King Braedon. After they were finished in the kitchens, Nadine took her to the hall, demonstrating how to arrange and set the tables for the evening meal, then led her up the staircase to the bedrooms. “We have moved your things to your new bedroom,” Nadine said over her shoulder. “New bedroom?” “Aye. Next to Braedon’s, of course.” Trista swallowed. The thought of sleeping this close to the heathen was more than she could bear. “The bedroom I stayed in last eve is more than adequate.” Nadine shook her head as they reached the top of the stairs. “No, ‘tis not adequate for someone who will soon be queen.” Not in this lifetime. But she followed along without comment as Nadine showed her to a lovely room. A large bed centered the cozy, expansive space. Tapestries hung on the walls and thick drapes covered the tall windows. A hearth sat against one of the stone walls, with a privacy chamber on the other side. Much more space than she needed. “I will have Maita move your things. She will assist you with bathing and dressing.” “I am perfectly capable of dressing and bathing myself, Nadine. I am sure Maita is as busy as everyone else here. I do not require a personal maid.” Nadine’s eyes, so like her nephew’s, sparkled when she smiled. “Very well, then. Would you like to rest a bit?” She had rested plenty while her father and Garick had left her alone the day before. The last thing she wanted right now was more time alone to think about her predicament. “No, I do not need to rest. I would love to meet everyone and see the rest of the castle.” Nadine beamed. “Wonderful.” She led her down the long hallway and back down the stairs to the main hall. A child’s laughter and giggles rang out in the empty room. “Donny! Come here!” Nadine shouted. A boy no more than eight or nine stepped out from underneath the long trestle table and approached them. His hands were hidden behind his back. He stopped in front of Nadine and stared up at her, beguiling innocence and a devilish smile mixing together. Something about the boy seemed familiar, but Trista could not tell what it was. A shock of dark hair fell across his brow, and his blue-green eyes twinkled with mischief.


“What have you behind your back?” Nadine asked. The boy shook his head. “Nothing.” Placing her hands on her ample hips, Nadine bent forward. “Donny. What have you behind your back?” With an exasperated sigh, the boy pulled his hands forward. Mud and tiny pebbles filled his small fists, oozing out onto the floor. “Are you trying to torment Braedon again?” she asked. “No, Aunt Nadine. I was just building a castle from mud.” “On Braedon’s chair,” Nadine added. A kindred spirit, Trista thought. She hid her smile behind her hand. “Go wash yourself. Then come back and clean up the mess you left. Hurry, before he comes in and catches you.” Rolling his eyes, Donny scurried off. Nadine shook her head. “He tries to get his brother’s attention in all the wrong ways.” “Brother?” Donny was Braedon’s brother? “Yes. Did Braedon not introduce you to Donny and to Erin?” “No he did not. Who is Erin?” Nadine sighed. “I am so sorry. Braedon involves himself completely in training for war with the wizards. He does not take much time to socialize. Even with his own siblings, I am afraid. Erin is his sister. She is fifteen seasons. Donny is eight seasons.” So, Braedon had a brother and sister he had not bothered to mention to her. Not that he had mentioned much of anything else, for that matter. “Ah, here is Erin now.” Trista followed Nadine’s gaze, watching a young girl walk toward them. She was tall, like her brother, but very willowy. Her long hair was a mixture of brown with sun-kissed highlights. She smiled like her younger brother Donny and unlike the surly Braedon. Erin grasped Trista’s hands and squeezed. “Hello, you must be Trista. I have always wanted a sister. I am so happy that Braedon is to be married!” Trista grinned at the eager sincerity in the girl’s tone. Only a handful of seasons younger than herself, Erin was just beginning to show the bloom of womanhood. “Hello, Erin. I am pleased to meet you.”


Erin tilted her head and leaned to the left, obviously trying to peer around Trista. “You are faerie. Your wings are beautiful.” “Can you fly?” Donny added as he swooped down the staircase and ran toward them, throwing his arms around Erin’s waist. “Thank you. And aye, I can fly.” “Oooh, let me see, let me see!” Donny exclaimed. She looked to Nadine, who smiled encouragingly. Trista lifted herself off the ground and hovered a few inches, fluttering her wings slowly. Donny stepped behind her and reached out, gently caressing one of her fluttering wings. “Donny, do not touch!” Nadine admonished. Trista laughed. “It is all right. It tickles.” The boy laughed. Erin approached and gingerly touched her wings. “It must be lovely to have such magic within you. I have always wanted to possess powers of some sort. But I am only human and bound to land, with no magic whatsoever.” Trista fluttered to the ground and took Erin’s hands in hers. “Oh, that is not true. There is magic in your bright smile, in the way your eyes sparkle and your cheeks turn a beautiful shade of pink when you blush. Your soft spoken voice has a lilting quality to it and I would wager you have quite an imagination. The words you speak are lovely. Do you write?” Erin’s mouth opened in a wide “O” and she blushed profusely. “Why, yes, I have papers and write poetry.” Trista nodded. “I thought as much. I used to love to take one of the tree sticks in the D’Naath forest and write love stories in the rich soil. Sometimes I would write them on paper up in my room. Words that only I would see. They contained my wishes for my future.” And a young girl’s fervent hope that she would some day find the man of her dreams. If she ended up married to Braedon, her hopes would be forever lost. Donny tugged on her shift. “I build things from mud, rock and sticks. But Braedon will not let me go to the forest. He said the wizards hide there and they killed my father. Do the wizards really live in your forest, Trista?” Trista looked down at Donny. Such a serious face for such a young child. She shook her head. “Not where I live. We watch them closely and our magic keeps them away.” “Oh.” Donny looked down and studied his shoes, then quickly brightened with a smile as he glanced up at her again. “I could show you my forts sometime. Don’t tell Braedon, though. Or he will make me take them down.” “I would like that very much.”


“All right, children. There is much to be done here. Run along so I can show Trista the rest of the castle.” After they walked away, Trista asked, “What happened to Braedon’s father? And is his mother here?” A glimmer of tears pooled in Nadine’s eyes. “Oron, Braedon’s father, died in a battle with the wizards nine years ago. Braedon’s mother, my sister Felicia, died giving birth to Donny a few months later.” Trista’s hand flew to her heart. “Oh, I am so sorry. What a terrible tragedy for all of you.” Nadine nodded. “It was hardest on Braedon and Erin. Erin at seven years old lost her mother, and Braedon had to become king much earlier than anyone planned. He takes his duties very seriously now. Too seriously, sometimes.” Trista wondered if losing both his parents in such a short period of time had made him the way he was. The enormous responsibility of running a kingdom at such a young age must have been difficult for him. Who was his counsel? “Does he have elders?” “Nay. Neither my sister nor Oron had brothers. When Oron died, Braedon became the official leader. Other than the guard, many of whom are older, there were none in the kingdom to counsel him.” All that responsibility thrust upon him. No time to even mourn his losses. “Is that why he never smiles?” Nadine took her hand. “Child, that boy has not smiled since they laid his mother in the ground. Nor has he paid any attention to Donny or Erin. It is almost as if losing his parents extinguished a light inside him and took all his joy away. Nothing anyone says or does can lift his spirits. He is bound and determined to single-handedly vanquish the wizards.” Trista sensed there was more to it than vengeance, but she could not yet delve deeply enough into Braedon’s emotions to tell what was there. Perhaps that would be her mission here. To bring Braedon and his family close again. She would not stay, of course. Her father would soon come for her once he realized his error. But while she was here, ‘twould give her something to do besides oversee the purchase of animals and the preparation of food. A crash and an ensuing argument in the kitchen captured Nadine’s attention. “Stay here. I must mediate between the cooks again.” Trista nodded and looked around the hall. Windows high above the walls let in enough light to shine on the myriad of dark wooden tables set up in neat rows. Large tapestries hung on the walls showcasing humans engaged in bloody battles. Not very appetizing artwork. As she stood in the center of the hall, people passed by but did not stop to greet her. They nodded and inclined their heads toward her but then scurried off. So unlike D’Naath, where everyone embraced and smiled all the time. Or even Winterland, where Noele had breathed life and love into the wintry castle. Perhaps it was the faerie and elvin cultures that


were so different from these humans. Maybe this was how people here normally acted. If she stayed here, she would die of loneliness, unable to bear the solitary lifestyle the people seemed to have adopted. Despite the glimmering sun overhead, ‘twas as if a cloud hung over the castle, affecting everyone within. “My brother needs a wife.” Trista gasped and turned quickly to see Erin standing behind her. The girl was so light on her feet Trista had not heard her approach. “Why do you say that?” “He needs love. Much love. More than we can give him.” Her heart ached for this young girl who only wanted to be loved by her brother. How sad and how incredibly irritating that Braedon did not notice her plight. “I am certain your brother loves you.” Erin shrugged. “It does not seem as if he loves anyone. He has not been capable of it since our mother died. Before that, he was—” “Erin!” Again, Trista jumped, this time from Braedon’s gruff bellow as he entered the hall. He strode quickly toward the two of them, his brows knit in an angry frown. Erin’s creamy face pinkened as she looked up at her brother. “You would do well to mind your own business. Elsewhere,” he said to Erin. Erin nodded, dropped her chin to her chest and hurried off, but not before Trista caught the tears welling in the young girl’s eyes. She whirled on Braedon as soon as Erin disappeared. “How could you treat your sister so? She loves and cares for you. Are you blind?” “Stay out of matters you know nothing about, faerie. And stop prying into my family’s business.” “Yourfamily. Am I not to becomeyour family?” If she deigned to marry him, of course. Which she would not. “That is different. You are an outsider, a faerie, and do not understand our ways.” Placing her hands on her hips, Trista glared at him. “So faeries are stupid?” “I did not say that. You twist my words for your own convenience. You are simply not knowledgeable of what we do here.” “It seems to me that what everyone does here is hide. Fromyou .” He crossed his arms. “You have been here one day and you have figured it all out, I see.” “I have seen enough to know that everyone hides from your wrath and sour disposition. And that your


brother and sister miss you very much and only want your love and attention.” He frowned, an angry tic jumping alongside his generous mouth. “Stay out of my way, Trista. And leave my family alone.” With a quick turn on his heel, he walked away. She followed, determined not to let him get away this time. She was not finished talking to him and this time shewould be heard. She had to flutter her wings and fly above the ground to keep up with Braedon’s long stride, but finally she settled in front of him, halting his determined progress. “You will not walk away from me again. This time you must listen.” Heaving an exasperated sigh, Braedon said, “What is it now?” His insensitivity was appalling. “You treat your brother and sister as if they are no more than pieces of furniture. Can you not see the hurt in their eyes?” Braedon’s gaze darkened like ominous clouds. “I warned you once not to interfere with Erin and Donny. Do not make me say it again. You will not like the results.” Unafraid, she pushed further. “You treat them terribly. And I will not be silenced in this matter or any other.” Mumbling about bad choice of potential wives, he turned away. She followed. “If you do not wish to marry me, then return me to D’Naath. I will be only too happy to leave.” He stopped and glared at her. “You stepped in this mess, according to King Garick and your father. I was betrothed to your sister and you interfered, resulting in both of us being stuck with a situation neither of us want. I have to learn to live with you as my bride and my queen. You must learn to live with it also. Now go find Nadine and see if you can learn something about how to act like a proper queen.” A proper queen? “I do not wish to be Queen of Greenbriar.” “That is unfortunate, but you have no choice in the matter. Youwill marry me, youwill become queen and youwill learn to run this keep. Now do not bother me again with your inane comments and do not involve yourself in my family’s business.” He stalked off and this time she saw no point in following him. The man was completely deaf to her pleas and utterly unfeeling. No wonder his brother and sister were frustrated. In a short period of time she knew how they felt. Could he not see how miserable she was? Why did he not take her home to D’Naath? They would both be much happier. Perhaps she had yet to convince him. She was very good at persuasion. She had yet to give it her best try. With a smug smile, she decided to begin doing just that. Within a few days time, he would be anxious to take her back to D’Naath. Chapter Three


Braedon sighed in relief as he approached the hall. It had been a blissful day and evening. Not once had Trista hounded him. Perhaps she had finally listened to his decree and would now leave him alone. The hall was filled with the inhabitants of the castle, all assembled for the evening meal. He spotted his aunt and headed toward her. No sign of the faerie. Perhaps Nadine had her working in the kitchens. He chuckled at that, assuming she would not care for cooking duty. He did not care. Running a keep meant overseeing every aspect of the daily chores and activities. Sometimes she would be required to help. It was good that she learn this. “Where is my betrothed?” he asked his aunt. “I have no idea,” Nadine said, busying herself with directing the staff to put out the food onto the tables. “Has she not been working with you?” Nadine looked up and frowned. “No, I have not seen her all day. I assumed you had decided to spend some time with her.” An irritated tic formed near his temple. “Now why would I want to spend time with her? She is as annoying as a petulant child who has not gotten her way.” “She is very young and untrained, Braedon, in a strange land with people she does not know. A little kindness toward her would not be a bad thing.” It would be to him. He had no intention of treating Trista any differently than the rest of the people in the castle. So, if she was not with his aunt, then where was she? With his sister and brother perhaps? He searched the hall, spotting his siblings at the main table centering the room. No sign of Trista. He ate dinner and brooded, expecting her to come sailing in, late. But she never showed up, even past the time the meal had been cleared and many of his people had retired for the evening. “I am worried,” Nadine said, catching his attention before he stepped outside. “I had Erin check Trista’s room and she is not there.” Surely she would not have left the castle without permission. How could she? The gates were closed and well guarded. He would rather retire to his room but knew his aunt would badger him until Trista was found. With a resigned sigh he said, “I will search for her.” She nodded and he left the hall, heading out to the gates. Neither of the guards posted there had seen her, although one mentioned he’d spotted her a short while ago walking along the stone wall near the forest.


The D’Naathian forest. Alone. Perhaps shehad left, after all. Not the safe enclosure of the walls, but the portion of the forest that resided within the walls of Greenbriar. It was a forbidden area, sacred to the faerie people of D’Naath. Until his marriage to the faerie princess, no one in Greenbriar was allowed entrance. Yet something compelled him when he stood at the edge of the woodland, feeling the crisp, cool air emanate from the forest onto his face. The sweet smell of dolaberries enticed him to step forward. He had a strong hunch that Trista could be found within the forest, confident no one would come after her. She did not know him well at all. He had warned her not to go in there. If he found her within the forest, there would be hell to pay. Forbidden be damned. He was going in. He motioned to the guards at the gates, instructing them to allow no one to follow him inside the forest, but should Trista emerge from there to hold her, chain her if necessary. The guards both swallowed and went pale but nodded. With careful steps he entered the woodland, his boots crunching on the fallen leaves and twigs. Sweet scents assailed his senses and he found himself breathing in the flowery smells. A calm came over him, a relaxation unlike anything he’d felt for years. It had to be the cool relief of escaping the blistering temperature and humidity that persisted despite the darkness; the oppressive wall of heat that never seemed to dissipate. In here it was nonexistent. He followed a narrow path that wound around a brook. ‘Twas as if the water beckoned him and he followed as it led to one of the legendary D’Naathian crystal pools. A dense circle of towering trees provided a canopy of privacy. The bright moon overhead shined directly onto the turquoise water and surrounding embankment. Standing just at the bank of the pool was Trista. Instinct made him reach for his sword, intending to sweep the area to be sure she was safe. A brief moment of careful observation indicated she was completely alone. His senses picked up no sounds or scents of intruders, and this part of the forest would not likely be invaded by the wizards. Faerie magic was very strong in D’Naath. Even he, a human, felt its power in this place. Coupled with the warfare capabilities of Greenbriar, it would be suicide for wizards to venture this far into the forest. Just like his faerie, who obviously had a death wish after defying his orders. He started to step into the clearing to confront her but stopped when she lifted her arms to the sky. Her breasts pressed against her shift, a tantalizing bit of cleavage swelling over the tightly stretched material. He held his breath, fully expecting the globes to pop over the top of her gown. Easing the sword tip to the ground, he stayed hidden, watching to see what she would do. Of course he was merely surveying the area to be sure no marauders would take her by surprise. She was, after all, his betrothed, so it was his responsibility to see to her safety. He had no ulterior motive in keeping himself hidden from her. Or did he?


Pushing denial firmly behind him, he focused on Trista. His breath caught when she began to untie the laces of her gown and slipped it off her shoulders. She bunched the fabric in front of her chest, closed her eyes, and her wings disappeared! When she turned away for a moment, he saw no sign of them. Interesting. She obviously had the ability to retract them. He pondered the logistics of that for a moment, until she turned toward him again, this time dropping her gown to the waist. Shocked, his gaze was riveted on full, high breasts and hard nipples. His mouth watered for a taste of the ripe berries, especially when she drew her hands over them and rubbed the buds with the pads of her thumbs. Saints! She was beautiful, ethereal under the moonlight. The golden flecks of her skin shimmered and cast off light of their own. If his mouth watered at the sight of her breasts, his throat went completely dry when she pushed the gown down to her ankles and stepped out of it. A slender waist flared out into hips made for a man’s hands. Lush thighs led to long legs. Between her thighs were sable curls flecked with gold that shimmered in the light. His cock lurched against his breeches, straining for release as his balls tightened into a painful knot. Guilt assailed him. It was inappropriate for him to spy on Trista this way, especially since she had no inkling she was being watched. But by all that was holy she tempted him! And besides, now that she was naked, he could not allow her to remain unescorted here in the forest. What if someone came upon her and ravaged her? Like him, for example. Muttering a curse under his breath, he reached down and palmed his straining shaft as if the very act would assuage the lust building up inside him. He had not felt a rush of desire like this in…actually, never. Sex was usually quick, something to offer release from ever-building tension. He never took time to let his gaze roam over the tender female flesh underneath him, nor did he ever watch a woman stand naked before him. In Greenbriar there were always females more than willing to lift their skirts and let him slake his lust inside their soft bodies without expecting anything in return except a few coins. Those were the women he wanted. Those were the kind of women he desired. Not the faerie before him who despite her womanly curves still wore a blush of innocence about her that warned not to touch, not to take, not to even think about doing the things he thought of doing to her, with her, for her. But if he were true to himself he would realize that just watching her tiptoe into the crystal pool, her ripe nipples puckering under the cold of the water, made him want her more than he’d ever wanted another female. Trista was dangerous to his very soul. She tempted him like no other woman had, awakening desires that had lain dormant since the day he’d taken over as king. Nevertheless, he stayed and watched as she dipped down in the water and leisurely swam from one end to the other. She floated on her back, her breasts rising above the undulating waves to further entice him. As if he could be enticed any further.


In a few moments she stepped out of the pond, crystal droplets raining down her back and buttocks, the flecks on her body appearing like a river of molten gold raining over her skin. Pulling her hair over one shoulder, she squeezed the excess water out as she walked toward the thick line of trees at the top of a hill. She reached into the dense brush and pulled something from one of the branches, running her fingers over the dark, slender object’s smooth surface. It seemed to glow for a few seconds, then the shimmer subsided. Her lips curled in a sensual smile, she lay down upon a soft hill of grass near the trees and placed the object on the grass. Once again she reached for her breasts, squeezing them together and lazily strumming her nipples with her fingers. Braedon leaned forward as if he could get a closer glimpse at the golden-hued nymph. His cock pounded, the ache unbearable as his shaft strained against his breeches. Sweat beaded on his brow as he stood like a statue, afraid to move at all lest the vision in front of him disappear. Trista tilted her head back and closed her eyes, then moved both hands over her ribs and lower, lifting her hips as if in greeting to her questing fingers. His breath caught at the same moment her fingers dipped along the glistening curls at the apex of her thighs. She stroked and moaned, driving her hips upward again. Braedon’s knees buckled and he leaned his palm against the trunk of a tree for support. He’d never watched a woman pleasure herself before, had no idea the visual could be so arousing. Palming his pulsing cock, he realized he wanted the same pleasure she experienced, needed a release more than he needed breath. He released his cock from his too-tight breeches and fisted his hand around it, slowly stroking from base to tip. Silence was paramount because he wanted nothing to break this magical spell. He bit back the groan of pure pleasure as he watched Trista move her fingers along the folds of her moist cunt. He imagined driving his length deep inside her heated channel, pleasuring himself and her at the same time. Strange that he’d never thought of a woman’s pleasure before, had just assumed the women he bedded were pleasured more by the coins he paid them than anything resulting from the act of sex. Then again most just did the minimum necessary, lying still while he pumped and released the tension tightening inside him. He never wanted to linger or savor his time with them anymore than they wished it. But it was clear that Trista enjoyed touching herself. She moved slowly, seemingly in no hurry to finish. Immersed in the movements of her hand, she tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth and let out a soft whimper that nearly drove him to his knees. His cock lurched against his hand and he gripped it tight, forcing back the seed that threatened to spill all too soon. Braedon was mesmerized by the movements of her fingers along her slit. Slow, back-and-forth motions were replaced by a circular travel around the protruding bud of her clit. He couldn’t help the groan that escaped his lips as two fingers disappeared between her plump pussy lips, especially when she lifted her hips and let out a mewling cry. She fucked herself with her fingers, then opened her eyes and searched the grass around her. She picked up the long stick she had taken from the trees earlier, caressing it with her moistened hand before sliding it between her legs, lubricating the end of it with the cream from her cunt. With a quick thrust, she shoved the stick inside her. By all that was holy! Sweat poured from him as he increased the motions of his hand along his rigid shaft, mimicking the movements of the stick she fucked herself with. That must be the legendarytubara stick he’d heard of from his men who had experience with faeries. A soft stick found only in the faerie


forest, it was said that faerie females frequently used thetubara to pleasure themselves, especially those without a mate. Trista was obviously no stranger to thetubara . She wielded it like she was familiar with its magical powers of pleasure, squeezing her buttocks tight while raising them up and lowering them to the ground again. All the while she pumped the stick deep inside her cunt then slowly pulled it back out again. Braedon grit his teeth, his cock lurching against his hand as he imagined the sweet grip of her walls, how it would feel to be buried inside all that wet heat, driving and withdrawing against the pull of her pussy. When she withdrew, the stick was covered in glistening moisture. Braedon wanted nothing more at that moment than to crash through the brush and drop between the faerie’s legs to lick up the essence that spilled from her. Once he’d given her the release she craved, he’d power his cock deep inside her magical cavern until he too found release. Her cries grew louder, her movements fast and hard as she rode the stick, using her other hand to flick the tender pearl of her clit. Braedon followed suit, every muscle of his body taut with building tension as he drew his hand back and forth over his shaft. His balls quivered and drew tight and ready. When Trista tilted her head back and screamed, Braedon let his release flow, shuddering as he spilled his seed onto the leafy floor of the forest. He continued to pump as Trista trembled through her climax until her body stilled. Barely able to move, he somehow managed to refasten his breeches, lingering for a few seconds to watch the rhythmic rise and fall of Trista’s breasts as she regained normal breathing. He had loitered long enough. Shaken with an all-consuming lust to pound his cock hard and deep into his betrothed, he hurried away. Before he did exactly what his desire told him to do. Fortunately she had not seen him, would never know he had caught a glimpse into her passion. The vision would stay with him until his dying day.

Trista smiled as Braedon tiptoed away. He did not know she had seen him arrive. Her faerie senses had picked him up long before he had appeared in her line of sight. She had expected a battle, had waited for him to storm over to her and demand she return immediately to Greenbriar. When he didn’t appear but hid out instead, she had considered confronting him, then decided to wait and see if he had anything to say to her. Apparently not, so she had done exactly what she had come to do—bathe in the crystal D’Naathian pools. The forest stretched for lengths too far to walk or fly back to her homeland, but at least here she felt closer to home. The fact Braedon had defied laws and entered the forest to look for her both pleased and perplexed her. Why not simply send some of his guards? Why did he come himself, and alone? Most likely because if any faerie discovered him in the forest, only he would be blamed.


Though she wanted to think he came after her because he cared for her. He had certainly lingered, especially when she had begun to undress. Thinking he would flee when she disrobed, she was surprised and aroused when he stayed on. Then her intent to shock him had turned into a fierce need to pleasure herself, and possibly him. Her original desire had been to swim in the pools, think on her plight, then return to the castle. She had not intended to touch herself, but Braedon’s sudden appearance had spurred her on to new heights of desire. Perhaps she wanted to show him that she was not some simple little girl with no brain, that she was a woman fully grown. A woman with desires, needs and perfectly capable of satisfying those needs on her own. When she saw him unlace his breeches and remove his cock, she knew then that despite his insistence that he was cold, remote and unfeeling, underneath the surface King Braedon of Greenbriar was a very passionate man. Perhaps this could work out after all, especially now that she had a glimpse into his fire. She had felt his gaze on her the entire time, and it accentuated her pleasure. So much, in fact, that she had let out a wild scream when her climax came upon her. It had been so intense, and she knew it was because Braedon watched, because Braedon had obtained his release at the same time. Her belly knotted in spasms of desire, needing to feel his strong cock between her legs. But he had left, though not without imparting a bit of himself to her. And that revelation had been very interesting, indeed. Now it was time to go back to the castle and think on all that she had learned. Perhaps tomorrow would be a very different day indeed. Chapter Four

Trista rose and stretched, smiling at the sunlight streaming in through the windows of her chamber. She slipped on a gown of pale yellow, allowing her wings to spread out fully through the slits in the back of her dress. After tightening the laces of the dress across her stomach, she splashed water on her face and braided her hair, prepared to face the day. Though yesterday this room held no cheer for her, today it seemed brighter, more pleasant and welcoming. Even the tapestries seemed friendlier and filled with color. She hurried downstairs to find Braedon, hoping she could share a few words with him over breakfast. Would his demeanor toward her change after what they shared in the forest yesterday? He was seated in the center of the room, surrounded by his men. Clearly this was not the time to speak with him. She searched out Erin and Donny, finding them seated at the end of Braedon’s table. She slipped into a chair next to them and dived into the morning meal. She was starving! No more than two bites into her meal, she looked up to find Braedon standing in front of her. “What are you doing?” he asked. “Eating.” Was that not obvious?


“You were up too late to help with the morning meal. See that it does not happen again.” Embarrassment flamed her face as she felt hundreds of pairs of eyes upon her. “I did not know my duties.” “If you would drag your lazy ass from bed early enough to come down to the hall and ask, perhaps you would then know what is required of you.” Apparently last night’s events changed nothing. If anything, Braedon was more surly this morning than he had been the day before. Mortified, she stood and picked up her bowl, taking it into the kitchens and throwing out the food, flinging the plate onto the massive stone counter. How dare he embarrass her that way? In front of everyone at the castle, no less. The pig! The arrogant ass! She had half a mind to cast a spell and give him warts on his ass. “Do not ever walk away from me again when I’m in the middle of a conversation.” She whirled around and shot him a venomous glare, uncaring that the kitchen staff gawked at them both. “Do not ever lecture me in front of the castle population again.” He arched a brow. “I will speak to you whenever and wherever I choose. As my betrothed, you have duties. It is time you started doing them.” She crossed her arms, determined to push away the hurt at his treatment of her. “I am not staying and I am not going to marry you. So it is pointless for me to do anything but wait until my father returns for me.” “Your father will not be returning except to attend our wedding. You might as well push thoughts of leaving from your mind. I am in charge of your welfare now. You will answer only to me.” Fury boiled inside her. “My duty is to marry someone else, not you.” “Are you daft, woman? Did you not understand that your father authorized our marriage? You would defy D’Naathian law?” “I defy no laws. I am simply not marrying you.” “You are mistaken. You will abide by my rules and my wishes.” “And if I do not?” His lips curled in a mocking smile. “Then I shall drag you into the middle of the courtyard, pull you over my knee, bare your ass and spank you soundly.” Anger warred with desire as the visual of his hand swatting her naked bottom had the opposite effect of what he intended. Arousal coiled like a sensuous flame deep in her belly. She pushed aside thoughts of spankings and what would follow, letting indifference take control. She laughed at him. “My father threatened that all the time and never followed through.”


His brows knit together and his face contorted. She felt the barely leashed control simmering on the surface and found it rather exciting. She wondered how far she would have to push him before he lost that control. “I am not your father. Do not challenge me, faerie. You will lose.” “I will do whatever I like,” she countered, raising her chin and letting him know that she would never be ordered about by the likes of him. “Then you shall suffer the consequences. I will only issue the warning one time.” He turned on his heel and exited, leaving her simmering hotter than the midday soup boiling on the stove next to her. She wondered if the heat was due to anger or something entirely different, deciding it was safer to choose ire as the reason for the flames shooting through her. How dare he treat her this way? She would make him pay. Somehow, he would sufferher consequences!

Two hours later she had it figured out. Nadine had engaged her in assisting with the evening meal preparations. Having never supervised or worked in the kitchens before, she felt helpless and did not know what to do. Fortunately, Nadine was quite patient, instructing her how to oversee the kitchen staff and what decisions to make for meal planning. Since she was also required to taste what was being cooked and to help serve the men their meals, she took it upon herself to personally serve Braedon, trying to hold back her smirk when she placed the bowl of hearty stew in front of him. He arched a brow at her innocent smile but said nothing. She turned away and continued to serve the men their meals, hiding her face when she heard Braedon’s loud bellow. “Are you trying to poison me, woman?” he asked, sputtering, his face an angry red. Ah, so the red pepper was a bit hot. See, she was learning already. Casually walking toward to his chair, she clasped her hands behind her back and waited while he gulped his entire mug of ale, choking and gasping the entire time. “This is horrible!” he exclaimed, then turned to his men who frowned at him as if he were daft. “How can you eat this?” “Tastes quite good, m’lord,” the man next to him exclaimed, followed by “ayes” from those nearby. Braden turned his head and glared at her. “You are right,” she said in her sweetest voice. “Cooking is not my strongest talent. I had meant only to season yours in a special way, since I wanted to please you. My apologies ‘twas not to your liking.” His face colored even darker than it had been after he had tasted the stew. “Work on it,” he whispered, tears forming in his eyes as he grasped his refilled mug of ale and guzzled deeply. As she walked off, her heart lightened and she felt supremely satisfied that she had showed him exactly who would be dealing with whose consequences. The rest of the day passed quickly as she spent it with Erin and Donny. Donny was a delightful child, full of mischief and exuberance and clearly looking up to his brother. He constantly spoke of Bradeon and how he wanted to be just like him when he was older.


Erin was more soulful, always deep in thought and observing those around her with a keen insight that showed maturity far beyond her years. But the one thing she noticed most of all was how much they both loved Braedon, despite the fact he spent no time with them. They made excuses for his neglect, claiming the running of Greenbriar as a very important task and how he had taken it upon himself to protect all the people. Regardless, he had a family and he needed to see to them. The more time she spent with Erin and Donny and Nadine, the more she missed her own family. In many ways, she understood Erin and Donny’s feelings of abandonment. How could her father leave her with all these strangers? And what of her sisters? Were they well? Did they miss her? What of Solara? Had she returned by now? Had she and Roarke been able to come together? Oh, she hoped so. Solara’s happiness was all that mattered. If her sister was able to love Roarke the way she wanted to, this nightmare would be worth it. And if Solara and Roarke did find happiness, would she ever know it? Would she ever see her family again, or would she be trapped here forever? Stop thinking of them. You will make yourself crazy if you allow your mind to wander into places that bring you sadness. Though she could link to her sisters through her powers, she knew it would only bring unhappiness right now, and she refused to open herself up to more misery, so she kept herself closed. She was not yet ready to face them. What if they were all unhappy because of what she had done? Sometimes she acted before thinking. Her heart thought it was doing the right thing, but the reality did not always turn out the way she intended. She hoped her family was not in misery because of her actions. Magic, she missed them all so much, needed the counsel of her sisters right now. She was so alone. Long after the rest of the castle had retired for the night, she wandered outside in the gardens near the ocean, taking a seat on the wooden bench underneath a copse of trees. The oppressive heat was not unbearable in the night and the breeze from the ocean cooled her heated skin. Trista leaned back and thought of all she would miss if she were required to actually stay here. Though she had developed an immediate fondness for Erin and Donny, she could not marry a man who did not care for her. She would be willing to suffer much in her role as queen, but she could never survive indifference and neglect. Loneliness settled around her like a cloak against the whipping breeze, enveloping her in its shroud of solitude. The only way back home to her family was to ensure Braedon did not wish to marry her. Judging from the way he treated her, even after his enjoyment of watching her the night before, it would not be long before he cast her aside and sent her back to her parents. The thought brought about both hope and despair, though she did not know why. ***** Braedon had not expected to find Trista sitting alone on the cliff so late at night, yet there she was, once again spotlighted by the moon overhead as she brooded. What a vision she made in her long gown of


pale yellow, her knees drawn up against her chest and resting her chin on her knees. She appeared lost in thought, but what really captured him was the look of loneliness, of isolation on her face. The glistening of golden tears filled the corners of her eyes and he felt a pang of guilty pain stab his middle. Which was ridiculous. What did he have to feel guilty about? He did what was required to protect his people. He had no time to cater to a half-woman, half-child with no sense of duty. Perhaps choosing the young faerie as his betrothed had been a mistake. He could easily return her to her family and ask that one of the older faerie sisters be given to him as part of their marriage merger of lands. Yet the thought of exchanging Trista for one of her sisters left him cold. How quickly the little minx had wormed her way into his household and his life. She was exasperating and taxed his patience, yet she also lit a fire in his blood that had never been there before. He should stay far, far away from Trista. But his body ignored the urgings of his mind and he found himself walking toward her. She looked up at him, a wariness on her face he did not care to see. “What are you doing about so late this eve?” “Thinking.” She turned her head and swiped at the tears rolling down her cheeks, no doubt thinking to hide them from him. “Think inside. ‘Tis not safe for you to be about this late.” Lifting her chin, she glared at him. “I am not a child and will not be treated as a prisoner. I will do whatever I wish and go wherever I need to go.” Did she have to argue about everything? “You should not be out wandering alone.” “Where I live I do not have to worry about wandering the forests alone at night. Surely I am safe enough here behind the walls of the castle.” “You well know the wizards can mount an attack, walls notwithstanding.” “I do not fear the wizards.” “You should.” She laughed. “I have as powerful a magic as they do. I can protect myself.” A pounding hammered at his temples and he inhaled a breath of air to quell the pain in his head. “Your magic will not protect you. I, however, can. Now come along and go to your room.” He bent down and reached for her wrist, pulling her upright. Her hands hit his chest with a hard thud. “You are human and I can best you. You have no power over me, or the wizards. Believe me, I can protect myself better than you can protect me.” The impudent chit! How dare she insult his honor? Clasping his arm around her waist, he drew her hard


against him, ignoring the feel of her soft breasts pressing against his chest. In an instant the sharp point of his sword rested just beneath her left breast. “You would be dead by now if I had a mind to kill. Faerie or not, you have just been bested by a human. Now tell me again how you would protect yourself against the wizards if you cannot even hold your own against a mere human?” Golden eyes blinked back at him, desire turning them molten and soft. “I will cast a magical spell upon you to render you immobile, then slip right out of your grasp,” she countered. Yet she didn’t push away. Her heartbeat pumped madly against his chest. He inhaled the sweet flowery smell of her. Her mouth was only inches from his, her lips parted, her breath like the panting of an animal that had been chased and cornered. “Go ahead. Cast your magic upon me, little faerie.” Only he was no longer sure what he meant. Aye, he wanted her magic, but a different kind than what they spoke of on the surface. He wanted the magic deep within the feminine part of her, and he wanted it to belong to him. Only to him.

The hard evidence of Braedon’s desire pressed against Trista’s lower belly, igniting a fire within her she could no longer control. Her befuddled mind recalled her words of casting a spell on him, but the only magic she wanted to perform right now was releasing his cock from the tight confines of his breeches and feeling the thick shaft embedded deep in her throbbing pussy. “Do it, Trista,” he said, his voice sounding harsh, yet filled with sensual promise. “Do what?” “Perform your magic on me. Cast your spell upon me.” Swallowing hard, she did the only thing she could think of doing. Pushing against his chest, she released her arms and wound them around his neck, giving in to the need that burned insistently throughout her body. “I would prefer you cast your magic upon me, Braedon.” Storm clouds darkened his eyes and he gave her a look so intense it made her legs tremble. He gripped her tightly, removing his sword from between them and jamming it into the ground. He stared at her for a few long seconds, then with a harsh whispered oath, he claimed her mouth. At the first touch of his lips to hers, she exploded, releasing pheromones that filled the air with the scent of her desire, enveloping them both in a cloud of faerie dust. Braedon groaned and pulled her closer, digging his fingers into the flesh of her hips and rocking his erection against her. His lips, though soft and full, ravaged hers with insistence. He plunged his tongue between the seam of her lips and found hers, tangling and teasing her with furious strokes that spoke of passion and need. She could not get close enough to the heat and hard planes of his body to satisfy her desire to meld completely with him. Every touch, every kiss, made her whimper with desperation. She lifted up on her toes and rocked against his erection, feeling wanton, like a wild animal, caged and desperate for release. But she cared not for repercussions right now. She was right where she wanted, needed to be.


She moved her hands freely over his body, from his neck to his shoulders, sliding her arms around his back so she could press her breasts tighter against the hard planes of his chest. Was it possible to crawl deep inside someone, to feel them to their very soul? She had not expected this type of reaction to Braedon’s touch, yet it felt right, as if she had found where she belonged. Silly girl. He does not even want to keep you. He is all about duty and not love. This is sex. A part of her realized the consequences of what she was doing, but she could not have stopped herself from wanting Braedon right now any more than she could prevent the moon from rising tonight. An all-consuming need had taken over and would not be denied. Braedon tore his lips from hers and moved to her throat, his tongue swiping along the column of her neck. Goose bumps prickled along her skin, centering on her sex and pounding away with an ache that made her whimper and tremble. But she was not the only one trembling. She felt the tremors in Braedon’s arms, shocked to discover he was not as unaffected as she would have assumed. She pulled back and searched his face. The hot intensity of his gaze seared her. “I want to be inside you, faerie,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and deep. Words of response would not come to her, so lost in her senses as she was. She could only nod her assent. “But not here. I do not wish to be disturbed, nor do I want anyone interrupting us. Sheath your wings.” She did, immediately. Swooping her into his arms, he carried her through the gardens and courtyard, his stride deliberate and brisk. She smiled when he waved off the guards at the gate who hurried toward him. They halted immediately and returned to their posts. He was not taking her outside the castle. He stepped through the darkened forest and into D’Naathian land, taking the same route she had taken toward the pools yesterday. She held tight to him and rested her head on his shoulder, feeling safe and comfortable for the first time since she had arrived at Greenbriar. And wanted. This feeling of having a man want her was indescribable. She had never expected to feel desire for her betrothed, especially considering the way he normally treated her. Yet she felt an underlying current of equal need from Braedon, as if he typically did not allow anyone to get this close to him. She felt strangely privileged to be wanted by him. They arrived at the pools and he set her down on the bank very near where she lay last night. He stood over her, his erection visible against his dark breeches. “Do you know why I brought you here?” he asked. She nodded. “I knew you watched me yesterday.” He arched a brow. “Did you now? And did you touch yourself as you did to entertain me?” “Nay. I did so to entertain myself. ‘Twas merely an enhancement to my own pleasure to know you watched.”


Flames licked her sex at the look of hunger on his face. “You amaze me, Trista. At times you are like a spoiled child, yet at others you act like a woman. A very desirable woman.” She ignored the spoiled child reference. The thought of keeping him off balance intrigued her. Perhaps that was a good thing. “I am who I am, Braedon, and I make no apologies for it. I simply know what I want and I am unafraid of asking for it.” “Then ask for it.” She knew what he meant. He wanted to hear the words from her and by all that was magic she wanted to tell him. “Make love to me.” He reached down and pulled her to her feet, crushing his mouth against hers, driving his tongue past her parted lips and tasting her, taking her, making her mindless with desire. One hand held her against him, the other moved over her body, stroking her back, her hips, moving forward along her rib cage and settling over her breast. She gasped into his mouth as he pulled the bodice of her shift down, exposing her breasts to his questing fingers. An explosion of sensation shot to her core as he found one nipple and flicked it back and forth with the tip of his finger. Gently, softly—it drove her mad. The bud hardened and she pressed her breast fully against his hand, wordlessly demanding more of the sweet torture. But he pushed her back, his breath coming in heaving gasps. Stunned, she wondered what had changed. His face was contorted almost in pain, his hands balling into fists as he held them rigidly by his side. What was wrong? “Undress, my faerie. And make it quick or I will rip the clothing from your body. I cannot wait a moment longer to feel you naked against me.” Chapter Five

Braedon’s breath caught at the look of innocent desire on Trista’s face. So many emotions, unguarded, evidenced her lack of experience in dealing with men. Both curiosity and desire melded together to pinken her cheeks and darken her eyes until they glittered like the golden flecks of her skin. Her innocence appealed to him more than it should. A woman’s virtue brought problems. Problems he had neither the time nor the desire to deal with. Not when so much was at stake with the wizards. Yet he found himself strangely compelled to taste his betrothed’s innocence, to take what she so willingly offered. He would wager anything that Trista was filled with undiscovered passion. He could not help but want to be the one man, the only man, to tap into her desires. Wanting her now was wrong. Custom dictated he wait until their wedding night to take her, but he could


not make himself walk away from her. Her beauty, her innocence, even her devilish demeanor all served to bewitch him until he could not control his lust for her. What did it matter if he took her now or in less than a month when they were wed? ‘Twas merely ceremony he was violating by taking her now. By rights she was already his. Any indecision on his part fled when she began to untie the laces of her bodice, letting it fall to her waist just as he had watched last night. The moon’s light intensified the golden flecks embedded within her skin and she sparkled like a bright star. Even her nipples were golden. Being this close—so much closer than he had been last eve, made his mouth water for a taste of her. But he waited until she finished undressing. As she stood naked before him he had a most difficult time determining which part of her he wanted to place his mouth on first. Her full lips, her luscious nipples or between her legs, where a small patch of sable and golden curls hid her feminine treasure. Making a mental note to go slowly with her, he stepped forward, reining in his instinct to grab her and ravage her on the spot. Instead, he reached out and traced the lines of her face from her jaw to her soft neck, then over her collarbone and between her breasts. She sucked in a breath, the action thrusting her breasts forward in silent invitation. They hardened to soft peaks and he was mesmerized as if she had bewitched him with a magic spell. Yes, that is where he wanted his mouth. He pulled her into his arms and leaned her over his arm, capturing one stiff peak between his lips. Her fingers entwined in his hair when he pulled the bud into his mouth, pressing it between his tongue and the roof of his mouth. Her taste was as sweet as her scent, arousing him until his cock throbbed against his breeches. A broken cry escaped her lips when he scraped the nipple against his teeth, tugging at it until she shuddered. This is what he knew he would find within Trista. An all-consuming fire that threatened to douse him in its flames. And he wanted more, wanted to add more timber until she burned them both out of control. Because control was his life, what he held onto every single day. Right now he wanted to let go of the demons that ruled him and let insanity take over. What better place to set the wildness within him free than here with Trista? She was his and he would take her however he wanted. He released his hold on her nipple, staring at the wet gold for a few brief seconds, then laved the other with his tongue, this time watching as it sprung up tight, hard and glistening with moisture. Flickers of golden dust filled the air around him and he searched Trista’s face for the answer. “When I am aroused I release my pheromones. They are meant to capture you under my spell,” she said, a half smile gracing her beautiful face. Captured indeed, and powerless to control himself. Dropping to his knees, he caressed her hips, enjoying the silken feel of her skin against his rough hands. He glanced up to find her gaze trained on him, studying his movements. Was she aware of this aspect of lovemaking? Did she know how to please a man with her mouth? His cock lurched at the image of Trista wrapping her lush lips around his shaft and sucking him until he exploded. He had much to teach her about lovemaking between a man and a woman. The thought surprised him, as it was only a day or so ago he was convinced he would use her only to create heirs. Now he wanted to take his time with her, linger within her arms and pleasure her until she cried her ecstasy into the night.


Then he wanted to teach her to please him, take hours, days, months playing with her body and teaching her all the ways she could do the same to him. Refusing to dwell on the whys of his change of heart, he focused instead on the tempting curls between her legs. “Spread your legs apart, faerie,” he commanded. “Let me see your beautiful cunt.” Her legs trembled as she widened her stance, allowing him a view of plump pussy lips and the sweet pearl of her pleasure peeking out from its pink hood. Moisture glittered along the folds of her sex, tantalizing him with the sweet, musky scent of her arousal. The heady fragrance was irresistible. Unable to wait a moment longer, he leaned in and pressed his nose against her mound, letting the silken hair there tickle his face. So soft, her scent so unbearably arousing he feared jettisoning his come right there. Moving downward, he slid his tongue along her soft folds, taking his first taste of the woman who would soon be his queen. Trista shuddered and reached for the support of Braedon’s shoulders, knowing if she did not hold onto him she would surely fall to the ground. Though she had pleasured herself since she was old enough to become aware of her burgeoning sexuality, she had never been touched by a man before, had never felt the exquisitely painful bliss of this kind of arousal. And now he was between her legs, tasting her essence and driving her mad with the need to explode against his hot, wet tongue. She surged forward, giving him better access to her throbbing pussy, whimpering when he smoothed his tongue over her clit. Sparks flew out from her fingertips as her faerie dust shot forth, surrounding them both in her arousing pheromones that made her quest for release even more urgent. “Please,” she whispered, then tugged her bottom lip between her teeth to silence herself. She wanted nothing to break the spell of his moment, nothing to disturb the ecstasy that hovered just out of her reach. Braedon tormented her, pulling back just as she climbed close to the edge, seeming to know when she was near completion. His tongue was maddening, sliding over her heated flesh and searing her with its fire. There! Oh, right there!He was a master of pleasure and she a desperate subject eager to learn all he could teach her. She had no idea the intimacy of such an act could take her to the very edge of reason. But watching him move his tongue over her, feeling the quakes trembling within her body and knowing he caused them was nearly too much to bear. The visuals of his tongue darting across her feminine flesh only added to her need. She grabbed his shoulder and held on as the first sparks of orgasm flamed inside her. When his tongue entered her cunt, she screamed and flooded his face with her creamy juices, unable to hold back as her climax went on seemingly forever. Could an orgasm make one insane? She had never lost total control of thought or action as she came, but knowing that Braedon knelt before her, licking up every drop of her release, made her temporarily mindless and unaware of the world around her. As she slowly floated back to reality, she looked down to find him sitting on his heels, looking up at her with a grin on his face. His face was moist with her juices, making her pussy tumble with pleasure all over again.


Her heart melted. Braedon was so amazingly beautiful when he smiled. His blue eyes sparkled and she saw a dimple on one side of his mouth. Just looking at him made her desire spring to life anew. “That was merely a beginning, my lady,” he said, standing and reaching for her. “We have much more to do this eve.” She knew at that moment she would give him whatever he wanted. “Kiss me, faerie,” he said, and she released her wings, fluttering up so she was at eye level with him. Grasping his face between her hands, she marveled at the difference in their sizes—he so large and she so small. She let her tongue flicker out and rim the seam of his lips, tasting herself on his mouth before sliding her tongue inside the hot cavern of his mouth, teasing his tongue with her own and hoping she was not fumbling in her attempts to arouse him. There were so many things she had no knowledge of, including kissing. She dare not tell Braedon she had never kissed anyone before or he would laugh at her lack of experience. Though as he pulled her down so her feet touched the ground and pressed his length against hers, she felt the evidence of his arousal and it pleased her to know he wanted her. Perhaps she was not completely inept. Though she was very curious. She pulled her lips from his and said, “I wish to do the same to you that you did to me.” His gaze dropped down, his lips curling in a half smile that made her wet again. “If you wrap those sweet lips around my cock right now, little faerie, I will explode in your mouth.” He said it as a warning, as if that was not something she would like. Oh, but he was wrong. For the very thing he thought would stall her was what she craved. “I would very much like to taste you exploding in my mouth.” Uttering a harsh oath, he dragged her against his chest. “That we shall save for another time. I cannot wait any longer to sheath myself inside your tight cunt.” He followed up his statement by crushing his mouth against hers. His fingers dug into her hips as he rocked her against his erection. Exquisite need coiled inside her belly, flames licking her sex with every thrust of his hard shaft against her. Yet he was still clothed, that barrier between them like an insurmountable chasm. Not breaking the contact of their lips, she reached between them and began to untie the laces of his jerkin, her fingers shaking as she pulled them apart and settled her hands on his flesh. Warm flesh. Heated flesh. Smooth, hairless, well-muscled, his heartbeat strong and rhythmic against her palm. His skin was hot to the touch, so much like the scorching need between her legs that craved soothing relief. But there was much more of him to uncover. She slipped the jerkin from his shoulders and trailed her fingers over a flat abdomen that boasted of bulging muscles. Realizing she could linger for hours on the chiseled planes of his abdomen, she forced herself to move lower, opening his breeches and following the trail of silken down to the hidden treasure. She encircled his cock with one hand while tugging his breeches with the other. He laughed against her mouth, the sound low and husky, pushing her hands away to finish the task for her.


With an audible sigh she stepped back to view him completely naked. Truly he was perfection, even with the battle scars across his chest and arms. She made a note to kiss every one of those scars, but that would have to wait until later. Right now the sense of urgency filled the air between them. She shivered at the loss of his body contact and stepped toward him, thrilled at the possessive way he hauled her into his arms and kissed her on a ragged breath. Taking her with him, he knelt then lay on the ground, positioning them so they were side by side. She rested her head on his upper arm and was lost in the blue depths of his eyes. Her skin tingled as he smoothed his hand over her shoulder and down her arm, then along her hipbone. Snaking ever lower, his fingers tangled in the curls of her mound before finding that spot between her legs that drove her mad with pleasure. When he slipped his fingers between her folds and gently inserted two into her cunt, she arched off the ground and cried out, widening her eyes at the sensation of actual flesh inside her. She had used the tubara stick to pleasure herself, but nothing felt as good as the feel of a man’s fingers inside her. His flesh was warm and flexible as he moved them in and out of her, slowly at first then picking up a rhythm as she rocked her pussy against his hand. This was nothing like giving herself pleasure. This was lying back and letting a man take her ever closer to a shattering climax. She actually whimpered when he withdrew his fingers, then nearly died as he slipped those fingers between his lips to lick away her cream. Her heart pounded so hard she was certain he heard it, though he made no mention of it. Nay, he seemed more than focused on her face as he licked the juices from his fingers. “You taste like the sweet flowering fruit of your land,” he whispered, pressing his lips to hers and letting her taste her own cream on his mouth. He fit his lips firmly over hers then, rolling her over onto her back and pushing her legs apart with his knee. When he nestled between them and brushed the head of his cock against her flaming sex, she moaned, eager to feel him embedded deeply inside her. She didn’t need to wait long for he maneuvered his cock head between her folds, leaned up on his hands until his gaze met hers. “You are mine now, faerie. No matter the reason, no matter what happens, you will always be mine.” He drove into her with a quick thrust until he was buried inside her to the hilt. His thick shaft filled her, stretching her until her juices poured from her pussy and down her buttocks. Oh, she had never felt anything so deliriously wonderful before. This feeling of being possessed and claimed by Braedon was overwhelming. The intimacy of the joining was indescribable. The sensations he evoked just being inside her was more than she could have ever imagined. She had seen couplings between the faeries in her kingdom before, had enjoyed watching them make love in various positions and all different manners, but she had no idea how it would feel to have a thick cock buried inside her, pulsing with life and stretching her in such a sweetly painful way she thought she might scream. But there was more to this joining than just the physical pleasure. There was an emotional bonding that came along with it that she had been unprepared for, and she felt a tear escape her eye. Braedon bent down and kissed the tear from the corner of her eye. “Have I hurt you?” he asked, concern etching a frown onto his perfect face.


“Nay,” she said with a smile. “‘Tis such a magical event, I am without words to describe it.” He smiled and moved his lips to her eyes, kissing each of them closed, then whispering in her ear. “You are the magic, faerie.” He pulled back and thrust deeper, making her believe that the magic lay within him. “So tight,” he murmured, leaning down and resting his palms on either side of her face. “You will surely render me helpless with your sweet cunt, my faerie. Can you feel it squeeze me?” Incapable of speech, she could only nod her head. She truly felt the tightening around his shaft until there was no space left inside her that was not touched by Braedon. The way he looked at her, the way he kissed her, filled her with wonder. More than passion poured from his lips. For the first time in her life she felt cherished, desired, needed. The ache inside her grew more powerful. Passion coupled with emotion to drive her senses into another realm where only the two of them existed. She heard no sounds from the forest, no water rushing through the creeks, no birds singing overhead. ‘Twas as if only the two of them existed in their own universe. Was this heaven or just a small slice of what it could be? As he moved within her, she felt every inch of him, every inch of her as her body struggled to hold onto him. Each thrust sent sparks shooting inside her. He rubbed his pelvis against her sensitive clit when he drove hard and deep. She wrapped her legs around him and held him there, reveling in the sensation of power as she heard his groans of pleasure. “Do I please you, Braedon?” she asked, needing to hear the words from him. He leaned up to look at her and frowned, moving firmly against her. “What do you think, little faerie?” Lines furrowed his brows and along the outside of his eyes as he grimaced and powered hard, banging against her clit again. She gasped. “I think that I will soon come.” After that no words were necessary. Braedon buried his face in her neck, licking the column of her throat until her body burned but her skin was cooled by goose bumps. When he ground hard against her sex she splintered, released her magic and golden dust flew around them, like thousands of fireflies in the air. The keening wail she heard was her own, surprising her by the intensity of her orgasm, for she thought the ones Braedon had given her earlier had been more than she had ever experienced. But this…this was so different, this feeling of being one with him, especially when he wrapped his hands underneath her buttocks and held tight, groaning loud against her throat and pumping hard and fast. His hot seed spurted inside her and she welcomed it as one more thing to bind them together. She held him, kissing his shoulder as he rode out the thunderous climax that left him shuddering against her. Afraid to move, she ran her fingers over his sweat-soaked skin and stared up at the sky with a new outlook. No one could call her a child now. She was a woman, and had just been taken by her betrothed. Though that thought conjured up some problematic issues, like how she could get her father to take her back since Braedon had just bedded her. Then again, Braedon seemed so…different tonight. More than just passion lived within him. She had felt


strong emotions when he made love to her. Yes, of course there was passion and that had been paramount, but also more than that. She sensed a loneliness within him and a profound pain that brought tears to her eyes. Whatever it was he masked it well because she could not tap into the meaning of his pain, she merely knew it existed within him. To be able to use her magic to read him was more than a little disconcerting. It meant she had connected with him on more than simply a physical level. It meant she might just care for Braedon. The thought brought both awe and a bit of unease. What did she really know about him? He was king and his parents had died. He had a younger brother and sister that he virtually ignored. ‘Twas time to find out more about this man she was betrothed to. Perhaps a little more insight would help her decide whether she stayed in Greenbriar or schemed her way to freedom. “Tell me about your family,” she started, trailing her finger around his human-shaped ear. So different in many ways than the elvin and faerie males, yet in many ways just the same. He tensed, then pushed off and sat up. “Why would you ask that?” Rolling over onto her side, she tangled her fingers in the crisp hair of his thigh. “I am curious to know your background. After all, we are to be wed and after what happened just now I would think—” “Stop.” Her hand stilled and she frowned at him. “Stop what?” “Stop thinking.” He rose and grabbed his clothes, jerking his legs into his breeches in such a hurry it made her head spin. “Stop asking questions. What happened tonight changes nothing.” He was wrong. Ithad changed everything. She stood and reached for her gown, feeling more naked and vulnerable than ever. “I meant only to show you my interest in your family.” His glare was cold, replacing the warmth inside her with an icy chill. “You meant only to pry. Fucking you does not give you ownership over me. Do not attempt to delve into my personal life.” His…was she not his “personal life” now? “Braedon, I beg to differ, but—” “Beg all you want. Just mind your own business and we will do fine together. It is late. We should get back before dawn.” Before she could object further, he did what he did best—walked away. She had no choice but to follow or spend the night in the forest alone. Though the latter seemed like a much better option. Instead, she seethed and shot mental curses toward his back as she hurried to keep up with him. If he thought this was the end of their conversation, he was wrong. By the time they reached the castle and entered their separate rooms, Trista was fuming. There would be no sleep for her tonight. Not for quite awhile. Instead, she paced the length of her room, occasionally casting hateful glances at the doorway. In the wee hours of the morning she decided that she would, indeed, marry Braedon.


If for no other reason than to make every day of the rest of his life as uncomfortable as an eternity in hell. Chapter Six

Braedon sat in his chair in front of the hearth and sipped the strong liquor that would hopefully grant him at least a measure of sleep before his duties began in a few short hours. He focused his sights on the heavy door to his chambers as if staring at it would provide the answers he sought. He needed to sleep. It had been too long, and he knew without rest he could not be an effective leader. But how could he sleep knowing the vixen slumbered, peacefully no doubt, in the room next to his? It had been two days since that night in the D’Naathian forest. Two days and she acted as if nothing had happened between them. In fact, if he thought fucking her would improve her disposition he was more than wrong. She was worse now than before, ignoring him completely. She spent more time with Erin and Donny than she did with him! He jammed his fingers through his hair. Saints! Is that not what he wanted? In fact he had told her to stay out of his way. That she was nothing more than his required contract bride and he had no other use for her. If only his damned cock would listen to him. But no. It hardened whenever he scented her, or saw her, or even when he was in the same room with her. Rather vexing considering an erection was not always appropriate, especially in a public place. Though his cock did not seem to mind springing up at the most inopportune moments. Like when he worked with his guard in the courtyard. Truly inappropriate to sport an erection when one battled swordplay with another man. ‘Twas not his fault that Trista chose that moment to walk by with Donny in tow, laughing and skipping along so that her breasts bounced nearly out of the top of her gown. And was he mistaken, or had she taken to wearing more revealing clothing of late? He had no idea what had caused her surly demeanor, but he was growing tired of her ignoring him or even worse, glaring at him as if he should know exactly why she was upset. Women required entirely too much thought to figure out. There was a reason he was glad he had not married before. He supposed he could learn to ignore her with enough time. But it was doubtful his desire for her would lessen. Two days without making love to her and his balls ached as if he had been kicked. He lay in bed at night with his shaft pointing to the stars and nothing he could do would assuage the incessant throbbing need for his faerie. In fact, there was no reason he should tiptoe around her. She was his bride-to-be and he would settle this matter with her right now! Stepping to the doorway connecting their rooms, he paused, thinking he might knock, then decided to turn the knob and walk in. She would learn who was in charge of this castle tonight! He threw open the door as if he was laying siege to her bedchambers. Instead of screaming, she looked up at him. Calmly. Did nothing rattle the woman? If he did not know better, he would swear she had been expecting him.


She was sitting up in bed, her wings retracted. The windows were open and moonlight filtered across the room, casting its light on the bed. She wore no bedclothes and the moonlight shone directly on her nipples, which hardened under his gaze. “You did not knock and are not welcome in my room,” she said. He half expected her to shriek in protest, not cast him a disinterested look. Nor did she make any attempt to cover herself. His cock registered her nudity with a rush of arousal, twitching and hardening against his breeches. He stood in the doorway and drank his fill of her beauty. Truly, she was a mesmerizing witch. “I see no need to knock since I am your betrothed and can enter your chambers at any time I wish.” She shrugged and returned to the needlepoint in her lap. “What are you doing?” “Sewing.” “I can see that. Sewing what?” She dropped the object onto her lap and looked up at him. “Are you really interested or do you wish to talk to me about something?” “Why are you so vexed with me?” “Why do you care? You made it quite clear the other day I am not to bother you. I have not been bothering you, but you are bothering me. Now if you do not mind, I am busy. Good night, Braedon.” She had the nerve to dismiss him? Anger filled him and he strode forcefully into the room, yanking the needlepoint from her grasp and casting it into a nearby chair. She arched a brow and clasped her hands together. “Having a bit of a tantrum this eve?” “I wishyour attention, woman.” “Now who is acting like a child?” How dare she sit there so unruffled when his blood was boiling and his cock was raging hard? He leaned over the bed and grasped her shoulders, pulling her against him and grounding his mouth against hers. He would obtain a reaction from her in some way this evening if he had to force it out of her! But she did not struggle against him, did not push him away as he expected. She lay there, limp in his arms, refusing to open her mouth or even fight against him. After a few useless seconds of attempting to garner a reaction from her, he let go of her and took a step away from the bed. Her scent clung to him, like the forest wildflowers of D’Naath. And she was not unaffected, no matter how much she hung in his arms like a limp rag. Her skin was flushed, the golden flecks more prominent, but her eyes were dark and pained as if he had hurt her. “I do not understand you.” “Good,” she said, anger and hurt mingling in her husky voice. “Because I do not understand you either.


Leave me be, Braedon. You confuse me and I do not wish to be more confused than you have already made me.” Instead, he pulled up a chair beside the bed. “Explain how I have confused you.” “No.” Arching a brow, he said, “Now who acts like the petulant child?” “Fine. The other night in the forest, after we made love, you became angry when I asked of your family. You practically ran out of there and left me standing alone.” “Ah. I have heard women like to talk after sex.” He should have known that was the case. She rolled her eyes. “You are such an idiot. It is not that at all. It is that you do not share your life with me and I am to be your wife.” “I do not discuss my family. With anyone.” “So I noticed. Not even with Erin and Donny.” “Trista, I warned you before of this—” She scrambled to her knees and faced him, leaning forward, her palms resting on the mattress. “Do not warn me like I am one of your subjects. I do not fear you and I shall not cower in a corner just because you frown at me! If you expect me to marry you and become your queen, then you had better get used to me asking questions and wanting to know of you and your family. I am not going away and I will not be pushed aside when a subject comes up you do not want to talk about. You can answer me or I will ask others, but I will know of your family, Braedon!” By all that was holy she was a sexy vixen when she was riled. And in her current position on her knees, her breasts swayed back and forth, tantalizing him and making his mouth water. His irritation fled and his mind and body focused on other things, like positioning himself behind her and impaling her with his steely hard cock. He stood and said, “My father died when the wizards invaded unexpectedly during a celebration party at the castle. There was not enough time to amass the guards into action and we lost many that evening.” “Oh. I am so sorry—” Her eyes widened when she saw him unfastening his breeches. “What…what are you doing, Braedon?” “I need you, Trista. My cock is hard and my balls ache. I have missed you. But I am telling you what you want to know. My mother died not long after giving birth to Donny. There is not much more to tell. The only family I have are Aunt Nadine and Erin and Donny. After my father died, I became king and have worked hard to protect the castle.” He removed his jerkin and slid his breeches down, but when she moved to switch positions, he said, “Do not move. I want you just like that.” He stepped toward her, the front of his thighs brushing the mattress as he picked up a tendril of her hair and wrapped it around his fingers. She tilted her head back to look into his eyes, desire and curiosity


mingling together. “Wrap your sweet lips around my cock, faerie. Touch me with your mouth.”

Trista knew she had been manipulated, that he had merely told her what she already knew of his family, but her desire for him won out over her displeasure at his trickery. Besides, she had wanted to taste him since that night in the forest when she had watched him pleasure himself. Perhaps it was she who had manipulated him this evening. After all, she was about to get exactly what she wanted. Though she really should not even be speaking to him. Then again, she was not exactly about to speak to him. He caressed the back of her head and brought her lips forward toward the head of his cock. “Suck me, my faerie. I beg to feel your hot tongue upon my cock.” How could she resist such a tempting request? She leaned forward and spread her lips over the flared head. Darker than the rest of his shaft, it appeared almost angry. A small drop of pearly liquid oozed from its tip and she flicked her tongue over it. Braedon hissed a sharp breath and she watched his face as she spread opened her mouth and took the head of his cock inside. “Ah, sweet faerie,” he said, caressing her hair. “Your mouth is indeed magical.” His shaft was hot and more of his salty flavor spilled onto her tongue. The texture of his skin was bumpy and ridged, yet soft and hard at the same time. How strange and delightful. She moved her lips over him, taking more of his shaft in her mouth, keeping lips firmly around his shaft and delighting in the soft groans Braedon seemed to fight to conceal from her. He so liked to be in control and clearly struggled to keep her from knowing how easily he could lose that famous control with her. But in this moment, she knew who was in charge and it was not the King of Greenbriar. Now she wanted to see how much power she wielded over him by taking him deeper, pressing her tongue against the ridged underside of his shaft and using her hand to wrap around the base of his shaft. She may have no practical experience in sucking a man, but she had watched many female faeries pleasuring their men and knew what to do. Subtle pressure at the base and taking his shaft deep into her throat should give him a bit of pleasure. When he moaned and surged forward, his cock head brushing the back of her throat, she knew he had found great delight in her technique. What she had not expected was her own response. Her pussy moistened and she felt the clench of desire deep in her womb. The room warmed around her and her pheromones released the sweet scent of the flowers of her homeland while golden dust danced in the air. “Your magic surrounds us, Trista,” Braedon whispered, his voice tight with need. He rocked his shaft between her lips, removing her hand to grasp the base of his cock and thrust it into her mouth. Oh how she enjoyed giving him pleasure. She scooted closer to the edge of the bed, needing more of him, wanting to take him to the point where he could not hold back. “No, little one,” he said, pulling back. “I am so close that I will come in your mouth soon.” But Trista refused to be denied. She dropped to her belly to free both her hands, then grasped his buttocks and held firm, pulling his cock toward her greedy mouth. He groaned and tangled his fingers in


her hair, giving up what little fight he had left. Satisfied he would not pull away, she reached underneath him to cradle his balls in her hand and squeezed, feeling how they tightened in her palm. He leaned over her and slipped his hand between her buttocks, driving his fingers inside her slit as he thrust between her lips, groaning with each pump against her mouth. Truly this was the sweetest madness she had ever experienced. How could he still control her pleasure when he was nearly out of control with his own? Yet he worked her pussy with finesse, seemingly holding back his own climax while he worked her into a veritable frenzy. She knew why. He wanted her to lose control too. He did not want to go alone. When he removed his fingers and swept them along her clit, coating the bud with her sticky wetness, she moaned against his cock. “Stars, Trista! I am going to shoot come in your mouth!” He groaned then and jettisoned hot cream down her throat. His pleasure was so great as he bucked wildly against her, rubbing her clit furiously at the same time, that she could not help but come with him, moaning against his pelvis while she too had her pleasure. Before she could even catch her breath, he pulled his cock from her mouth and turned her on her back, leaning over her and placing his mouth over her still pulsing pussy. He licked her cream from her slit, sliding his tongue inside her to lap her juices. Still trembling from the force of her unexpected climax, she could only lie there, mesmerized by the sight of Braedon’s cock dangling above her. His taste lingered on her lips and she could not resist taking him once again in her mouth while he pleasured her with his. Soon he grew hard again and she eagerly sucked him, enjoying the dual pleasure of having him in her mouth while he pleasured her with his. She realized she had much to learn of pleasure, this give and take with mouths and bodies. She rather enjoyed this position as Braedon could slide his cock deeply down her throat and oh, what he could do to her pussy with his tongue! The man truly possessed magical powers for a human! He had a very long tongue and knew just what to do to please her. “Am I pleasing you, faerie?” he asked. She tilted her head up to find him peering at her from between his legs. “Yes, Braedon. You please me greatly. Why do you ask?” And why did he stop what he was doing? “Because you were giggling.” “I was?” He slipped off and lay at her side, his head remaining near her pussy. “Yes, you were. You find something amusing about my cock?” His grin told her he was teasing her, a side of him she had not thought to ever experience. “I hardly find your glorious shaft amusing, Braedon. I was just amazed at all these new positions and sensations. Please do not stop what you were doing.” “You mean this?” He leaned over her and took a long swipe of her slit with his tongue. She shuddered, the feeling warm and wet. “Yes, that.” “And what about this? Do you like this also?” He slid two fingers inside her pussy, at the same time


rolling his tongue over the distended pearl that begged for his attention. She nearly came off the bed, her pussy clenching around his fingers in a tight grip she felt deep in her womb. After that she could not speak as he suckled her clit and fucked her pussy with his fingers until her juices poured down her buttocks and onto his hand. Now he was the one with the control and she willingly gave it up to him, lifting her hips as he drove his fingers deeply and latched onto her clit with his mouth. But it was when he nibbled on the bud with his teeth that she climaxed and screamed, then clamped her hand over her mouth, afraid servants would come rushing in to see if she was in need of aid. It took her a few moments to come to her senses. In that time, Braedon had turned around so that he faced her. She had not realized she still had her hand held over her mouth. He gently extricated her hand. “Faerie, you may as well not try to quell your sounds. No one will disturb us tonight. No one will come to your rescue if you cry out. And,” he said, a gleam in his eyes, “you have not yet begun to scream tonight.” Chapter Seven

Trista’s eyes widened at Braedon’s sensual smile. For someone who typically appeared so cold and unfeeling, his touch and the way he looked at her warmed the room like a roaring hearth in the winter. Her body flamed with heat. She rolled to her side and reached for him, needing to learn all she could before the tenderness he exhibited departed and left her with the cold man she knew would return. “Your body is so different than mine. So hard where mine is soft.” He laughed, the sound vibrating against her. “I should hope so. That is what makes sex so much fun. You are soft here,” he said, slipping his hand between her legs, “and I am hard. You are wet and make it easy for me to slide inside you” He lifted her leg and moved it over his hip, positioning his cock head against the entrance to her pussy. “Look at me, Trista.” Tearing her gaze from his cock disappearing between her legs, she met his eyes, so like the clear blue pools surrounding the castle of her home. “I want to watch your eyes when I drive my cock inside your cunt,” he said, his voice taking on a dark, husky quality that made her shiver with need. Her pussy clenched and grew wetter as she eagerly spread her legs further to accommodate his shaft. She moved against him, taking more of him, but not nearly enough. This was insanity! “Braedon, please,” she begged. He stilled and she frowned. “Braedon.” “Yes, faerie?” “What are you doing?”


“Waiting for you to beg me again.” “Why?” “Because I liked it.” She smacked his shoulder. “You are a terrible tease!” And she liked this side of him, part of her very sad that none of the inhabitants of Greenbriar ever got to see it. “Now give me that cock or I shall…” “You shall what?” “I shall turn you into a toad!” He threw his head back and laughed. “A toad does not have a very big cock, my lady. I seriously doubt you would be very happy with your magic then.” Nevertheless, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, sliding his tongue inside her mouth and making her forget all about turning him into a toad. When he had her breathless with anticipation once again, he leaned his head back to search her face, moved his hips back and plunged inside her pussy, this time taking her breath and making her cry out at the same time. “Ah, that is what I wanted to see. Your eyes widen and turn like a molten river of gold.” He moved against her with a gentle rhythm, his pelvis rubbing her clit softly at first, then harder as he picked up a pace that soon had her clasping his back and biting down on his shoulder. He did not seem to mind though as he growled and bit her neck, seemingly as caught up in the same passion. It was not long before she felt the familiar stirrings of approaching orgasm. Braedon pulled her back and made her look at him again. “I want to watch you come, Trista.” She could not. ‘Twas too intimate. But when she tried to rest her head on his shoulder he would not allow it, instead holding his palm between her breasts and pumping his cock between her legs harder and faster until she forgot all about any sense of shyness and held onto his upper arms, watching the way his eyes darkened in color, then widened as he too found completion. He roared when he came inside her and she screamed, this time not bothering to worry whether anyone heard her, for she did not care if all Braedon’s guards burst into the room at that moment. He had taken her to a magical place and as far as she was concerned, they were the only two people in existence at the moment. Drenched with the efforts of their lovemaking, she collapsed against him and he pulled her close, stroking her back and buttocks for a few moments. She thought he would pull back the coverlet and stay there with her, but instead he eased from the bed after he caught his breath and began to dress. She lay there and watched him, smiling at his taut, muscular body, wondering if he would ask her to move into his rooms soon. ‘Twould make more sense instead of hopping from room to room each evening. Perhaps she would suggest it first. There was much she had to suggest, beginning with their wedding plans. “Braedon?” “Aye.” “About our wedding—”


“That will be for you and Nadine to plan. I want no part of it other than to show up, say my vows and bed you that eve.” “But surely you and I will discuss—” He cut her off with a stern look, much the same as he had the other night in the forest. “Woman, what is it with this constant need to have discussions about inane subjects after sex? Did I not hold you as you requested? Did I not stay and touch you? It does not mean I will become a simpering ninny who will have lengthy conversations about womanly subjects with you, now or ever. When I fuck you, I will fuck you. Thereafter we will not discuss family, children or anything else of a feminine or inconsequential nature. Now I bid you goodnight.” When he turned on his heel and left her bedchamber, Trista could only stare at the closed door, her mouth hanging open. Surely she was betrothed to a human who had two different personalities. One of warmth and laughter for fun, games and sex, the other a cold, surly, arrogant beast from the depths of hell who made her shiver with loathing. She rolled over on her back and stared at the ceiling, pondering the mystery that was Braedon of Greenbriar. If she was to marry him, her life would unfold differently than she had imagined. Did she have feelings for him? At times, yes, especially when he touched her and made love to her. But other times, when he was not making love to her, she wanted to cast a magic spell upon him and turn him into the stone statue that matched his behavior. He infuriated her, vexed her and made her want to stomp her feet and throw large objects at the vicinity of his hard head. But at the same time she wanted to curl up with him and touch and kiss him all over, then beg him to make her feel the things he made her feel, the things that made her toes curl and her insides warm like a sunny day of summer. Oh how she wished her sisters were with her! She missed them and craved their counsel. Here there was no one to talk to about her feelings of confusion where Braedon was concerned. Perhaps tomorrow she would seek out Nadine and ask her about Braedon. The woman seemed wise about her nephew and might be able to offer some advice on how to handle the beastly side of the man she could be forced to marry. For with each passing night it appeared more and more evident her father was not coming to her rescue. And if she was, in fact, going to have to marry Braedon, she would have to know how to live with a man she did not at all understand. ***** “Braedon needs to feel there is order in his life,” Nadine explained while Trista helped with the afternoon meal. The kitchen was bustling with activity and it seemed to calm Trista to keep her mind occupied by learning how to direct the staff in their duties. Besides, Nadine told her it would be her duty as queen to oversee the castle functions, including all the meals. “I do not understand the man,” Trista whispered, trying to keep her voice low so the others in the


kitchen could not hear. Nadine looked around, then pulled Trista into a small hallway off the kitchens. “He fears what happened when his father died will happen again. That is why he trains the guard incessantly. That is why there is no frivolity at the castle. His parents were gay and happy and the celebrations were many. His father, though we all loved him, was not one to focus on war and preparation of the guard. So when the wizards attacked, no one was prepared and the casualties were high.” “But no one expected the wizards back then. At any castle. It was unheard of for them to storm a castle. Now all castles within the realm are prepared for attack on our own grounds.” Nadine nodded. “Aye, but Braedon has never forgotten the sights and sounds of the wizard attack and I think he associates any happiness and parties with the death of his father.” “That is ridiculous. He must be made to see that happiness and death do not coincide.” The old woman shrugged and patted her arm. “We long ago stopped trying. ‘Tis best to leave it alone, child.” Trista thought the better part of the day and well into the night about what Nadine had said. How could parties and frivolity have anything to do with death and destruction? Braedon was confused. And his pain was causing pain to his brother, his sister, to everyone in Greenbriar. She hurt for him, for all of them. And she understood, finally, how deeply he felt that pain. Then a thought struck. What he needed, what the castle needed, was brightness and light, some happiness and joy. All Braedon needed to eliminate his constant dour moods and surly demeanor was to be shown that nothing untoward would happen if a little gaiety and frivolity was introduced in Greenbriar once again. She knew then what had to be done. Greenbriar needed a celebration! And since he told her that under no circumstances was she to involve him in any planning of any sorts, that she was only to involve him in matters relating to fucking, she went in search of Nadine. She would keep this party under wraps and surprise him. Once it was fully under way, there would be nothing he could do to stop it. The people of Greenbriar would once again wear smiles on their faces, and perhaps they would welcome her, smile at her, and she would feel part of this community. And perhaps Braedon would begin to smile and feel joy outside the bedroom. She warmed at the thought, excitement filling her. There was much to be done!

Something was going on at the castle, and it had to do with Trista. Braedon was not certain what had happened over the past several days, but the people of Greenbriar had begun to…smile.


And something else that vexed him. They had begun to seek Trista’s counsel. Even now he watched them enter the great hall, hurrying toward his betrothed and whispering to her. She would listen a few moments, casting her gaze in his direction, then say something back to them and they would nod and hurry off. As they passed him, they would bow their heads and hurry past. But not before he saw the hint of a smile on their faces. What was wrong with his people? His entire clan seemed as if they harbored a secret. Even his brother and sister bore the hint of secret on their faces lately, yet when he used his sternest voice to question them, they only giggled and scurried away under Nadine’s direction. And Nadine would not directly answer any of his queries, seemingly having somewhere else to be and too busy to stop and talk with him. A conspiracy was at play here, he could feel it. And he knew who the main conspirator was. ‘Twas time to get to the bottom of it. “Trista!” She looked up, a smile of innocent bemusement on her face. “Yes, my king?” “Come here.” She glided toward him, dressed in a pale silk gown that made her appear as if she were floating above the floor. Then again, with her wings fluttering madly, she very well could be. “What are you about?” “My duties, Braedon.” “And what would those duties be?” “The duties of a queen, of course. Those things you told me I must learn. Nadine has been instructing me the past week.” “She has been learning quite well too, Braedon,” Nadine said, coming up to stand beside Trista and beam proudly. “I hardly had to tell her anything more than once. Pretty soon you will not even need this old woman around she is so efficient in her tasks.” “Fie, old woman,” Trista said, placing her arm around Nadine. “I would be lost without your counsel. I cannot do anything without you.” Braedon’s brows knit in a tight frown. The two of them were hugging each other as if they had known each other forever. Very strange indeed. “I am glad you are taking to your duties so well. There is much to be done here in Greenbriar.”


“Aye. Now if you will excuse me, I must see to…things,” Trista said, glancing over at Nadine and grinning. “Yes,” Nadine nodded. “There are many things that need to be done around here. ‘Tis a very large castle.” They both scurried off before he could say another word. Something was definitely amiss and he was determined to discover what it was. He called Lavare, his captain of the guard, over. Tall, mean and stronger than any man he knew, he told Lavare, “Follow them and see what they are up to.” Lavare nodded and returned two hours later with a report that they did chores, mostly whispering. He could see or hear nothing untoward. Erin joined them, whispering and giggling with them, but it seemed only ‘women things’. Though several of the castle population did join them, popping in and out, and more whispering ensued. Oh, and there was much smiling and laughing. Smiling and laughing. Wonderful. Not good. Not good at all. He knew Trista. The woman had a devious mind. She had some kind of devious plot going on and had somehow bewitched the castle inhabitants to join in. A magic spell, no doubt, cast upon the entire castle population. The gods help him, but he feared for the lives of everyone in Greenbriar if Trista had a plan.

“Do you think he suspects anything?” Trista asked Nadine. “I am certain he suspects something. And I am also certain he will be furious when he discovers what you are planning. You may wish to reconsider, Trista.” “No,” Erin said. “‘Tis time for Braedon to put the past behind him. I agree with Trista. He needs to understand that fun does not equal disaster.” Trista reached for Erin’s hand and squeezed. Such a mature woman for one still so young. Here was a new sister for her. “You are right. Part of me feels butterflies in my stomach when I think of this. I know he will be angry, but I feel this is what he needs. He needs to see that no harm will come to Greenbriar if a little fun is had. All the people need this.” Nadine sighed and nodded. “You are right, of course. And I do like seeing smiling faces on our people again.” Trista smiled. Of course it took more than a few days before the people of Greenbriar got past their


shock at the thought of throwing a grand celebration. First wide eyed and frightened, they shook their heads and nearly bolted themselves inside their homes when Trista approached them about a party. Determined, she knocked on every door, convincing them this was for Braedon’s benefit, as well as Erin and Donny. And while she was doing that, she immersed herself in learning all she could about running a castle in order to fool Braedon into thinking she was busying herself in that way. Actually, she found herself intrigued by all that went into managing the day-to-day operations of Greenbriar. She even found it fun. And Nadine, Erin and Donny helped her. And for the first time since her father unceremoniously dumped her at the gates of this castle, she began to feel as if she belonged here. Now she had to make Braedon see that she belonged here, and not just in his bed. Day by day she had begun to chip past the reticence of the townspeople, first by showing them she could, indeed, work as their queen. They had begun to come to her for mundane things like petty disputes. Soon they opened their minds to the possibility of living again, of smiling again, of celebrating again. Of having a king who smiled again. How could they ever get beyond the ugliness of what happened to Braedon’s father unless that past was relived without incident? Tomorrow night would be the turning point. She hoped Braedon would forgive her. She hoped he would be happy with her for what she was about to do. She hoped he understood she was doing so because she was growing to care for him. If not, her future at Greenbriar would be dismal. Chapter Eight

The tiny faeries in her stomach had turned into huge stomping dragons by the next evening. Fortunately, Braedon was otherwise distracted on guard-training business and had no idea what was going on, allowing her the time to deal with last-minute details such as food and drink and entertainment, then bathe and dress. She hurried through her bath then stood in her bedchamber, uncertain what to wear for the festivities. She had brought limited clothing with her for the trip, not thinking she would be staying permanently. But her breath caught when she came out of the bathing chamber to find a gown lying on her bed and a hastily scrawled note from Nora, pronouncing it a gift from the seamstresses of the castle, thanking her for the gift of a party. The castle seamstresses were goddesses of magical abilities, for lying on her bed was a gown of pale green silk shot through with threads of gold to match her wings. It stole her breath away with its beauty


and even allowed for her wings to slide through the slits in the back. Tears welled in her eyes and she brushed them away then dressed quickly, pulling her hair into a loose knot on top of her head. She put the matching slippers on, fluttering her wings excitedly, and hurried into the ballroom to oversee the last-minute preparations. The room was a bustle of activity as food was set out and the minstrels prepared their music for the evening. Nearly everyone was in attendance, from the smallest child to the oldest adult. Trista’s senses picked up the nervousness of everyone in attendance, especially those who were old enough to recall the last time a party was held in Greenbriar. She wished she could tell them the burden rested on her alone, that if Braedon ended up furious she would take full responsibility, but she knew it would not allay their fears. ‘Twas then she realized they loved their king and wanted his happiness, wanted him to no longer feel the pain that had lived inside him since the night his father died. She wanted that too. She spied Donny and Erin looking lost at the table of food, holding hands tightly. She knew they were both nervous about tonight, afraid of what Braedon’s reaction would be. She hurried over to them and grasped their hands, then signaled the minstrels to begin playing music. Once the strains of song began, she knew that Braedon would hear and come investigate, but the time for trepidation was past. “Shall we have some fun?” she asked, plastering on a happy smile despite the pounding of her heart. Releasing some of her magic, she let golden dust burst around them. Donny’s eyes widened and he laughed, jumping up and trying to capture the dust in his hand. Erin looked to her and grinned. The music was lively and soon enough, raucous sounds of laughter began. It was not long before people were dancing, children were running, the townspeople were eating and joking and a full celebration was in force. Trista wandered throughout the crowds, which had now spilled out into the courtyard, the ballroom filled to capacity. Jugglers entertained children and adults alike and ale was flowing as amply as water. Music and laughter resounded in the air and Trista beamed. “What in all that is holy is going on here!” And just as quickly, the entire courtyard and ballroom went silent as Braedon’s distinctive bellow was heard above the loud noise of the celebration. Trista halted mid-stride and turned toward the sound of his voice. He approached her, his face red and twisted with anger. She maintained a calm demeanor, refusing to battle with him tonight, knowing she would need to hold onto control. Now was not the time to anger him further. This was her gift to him and she must remember that. If it took every ounce of self-control she possessed, she would not let him raise her ire here this eve. “Good evening, Braedon, and welcome to the celebration.” “Have you gone insane, woman? What do you think you are doing?” She spread her arms and smiled at him. “We are having a party.” “Why?” “Because it is high time one is had at Greenbriar.”


“I gave no authorization for a party.” Clasping her hands behind her back, she said, “As I recall, you informed me that any plans of such nature were to be made between Nadine and me. So we planned.” “That is not what I meant!” “Really? How was I to know that?” She was doing a fine job holding her temper in, she thought. “You knew exactly what I meant, dammit!” He looked rather funny when he squinted like that, especially since no sun shined in the darkness of night. “I knew no such thing, Braedon. You are undoubtedly thirsty. How about some ale for you and your guards? It has been a trying day. And we have a feast of pheasant and fowl of other natures. Bread and cheese and—” “Stop talking! I cannot think when you talk so much!” She would remember that for future arguments. Signaling one of the servants, the woman came forth with a tray of ale. Trista calmly took one of the cups and presented it to Braedon. “Here. Drink. You look thirsty.” Glaring at her, he took it from her and gulped the ale, then slammed the cup down on the tray, immediately grabbing another and doing the same. “My, you are thirsty,” she said, hoping he would drink several more in succession. “This party is over.” “No, ‘tis merely beginning.” “Celebrations are not allowed in Greenbriar.” A crowed had formed behind them and around them. A very quiet crowd who watched their discussion with rapt interest. And right next to her stood Erin and Donny. “Braedon. I understand what transpired the last time a celebration was held at Greenbriar. My heart breaks for your loss. But do not fear all parties will result in the same. I beg of you, do not do this.” She whispered the last so only he could hear. He opened his mouth to speak, but instead Nadine’s voice spoke beside him. “Dance with your betrothed, Braedon.” Braedon turned his gaze on his aunt. “Excuse me?” “You heard me, son.” Nadine signaled the minstrels to play with a short sweep of her hand. “Dance with your future queen.Now .” Though Trista had not spent long in Greenbriar, she had never heard the short, clipped, angry tone of


Nadine’s voice that she heard just now. From Braedon’s wide-eyed look, he had not either. When the music started, Braedon placed the empty cup on the serving platter and pulled Trista into his arms. Granted, he did it roughly, but he followed his aunt’s command, frowning at the old woman who bore a smug, satisfied smile on her face. He continued to frown at her as he danced Trista into the ballroom, following the minstrels there. The crowed followed behind Trista and Braedon. She did not quite understand what had transpired between Braedon and his aunt, but it struck her that it had been somewhat monumental. Either way, she was grateful for Nadine’s command. The party had truly begun.

Braedon fumed silently, still shocked by the tone of his aunt’s voice, a tone she had not used since he was an errant child. He would not embarrass her out of respect, but later he would have words with his betrothed. “I cannot believe you did this without my permission.” “I sought only your pleasure, Braedon,” she said, excitement and trepidation warring in her golden eyes. “We all only want your happiness.” “I am happy with the way things are.” Her smile did not reach her eyes. “No, you are not. You are caught up in the pain of the past, a pain that has you in its grip and refuses to let go. You will never be happy until you put it behind you.” “You know nothing of which you speak, Trista. Leave it alone.” “I know more than you think.” “You were not here when it happened,” he said, looking beyond her to the smiling faces, remembering that night so long ago when there was a similar celebration. Only then, his mother and father were here, laughing and dancing and enjoying the night’s festivities. Until the wizards came. Then there was blood and screaming and swords and fighting. Then there were lightning bolts of pain and his father lying on the ground in a pool of blood. Then the celebration and the laughter died, never to return to Greenbriar. “When you lose your focus, people die. It is always best to be prepared.” “Bah. You and your guard are well prepared. You can relax a bit. All castles are prepared for inside attacks now, Braedon. Besides, you have me now and I have magic,” she said with a wink and a grin. He laughed. “You are a child and know nothing of these things. You can do nothing to help.” “I can help you fight the wizards. My people have done it before. My sisters have helped.”


“You cannot help me. With this party or with warfare against the wizards. You are a small woman who knows nothing of life or of pain.” Her smile disappeared. “And you are a cold-hearted fool who is blind to those who love you. You might at least open your eyes and see your brother and sister before they are lost to you forever.” What was she trying to say to him? “So you are saying they alone love me?” “Well, do not look at me, for I can never love a man whose heart is so closed to love.” She stilled and pushed away from him. For the first time he noticed her tears were golden. “I am not a child, Braedon. I am a woman with a woman’s heart and a woman’s pain. Please do not tell me that I do not know what it means to feel pain. Your words cut me and I bleed. And it hurts. Please do enjoy the celebration for your people went to much trouble to put it together. And look at your brother and sister, before it is too late for you.” Before he could say anything, she backed away and slipped into the crowd. He started to go after her, but something she said made him turn and search the crowd. He spied Donny and Erin laughing and dancing with a crowd of strangers. Their joy pulled at his heart. That they felt such happiness without him hurt. Surprisingly, it hurt. “Yes, they still love you.” He turned to find Nadine beside him. “I am surprised they even know me.” “You would be surprised by many things if you would only open your eyes.” “Such as?” “That I love you, that Erin and Donny love you.” Nadine threaded her arm through his and rested her head on his shoulder. “And Trista loves you too.” “I cannot love anyone.” “And why is that?” she asked. “Because I must concentrate on protecting all my people. Love is…distracting.” Nadine laughed and kissed his cheek, then forced him to look at her. “Silly boy. It is well past time that you get over losing your parents. Yes it was heartbreaking, but loving someone does not mean losing them. You have always been very smart in military matters. Now it is time to be very wise and use the same intelligence on matters of your heart.” “I am not sure what you mean.” “Open your eyes, Braedon. And more importantly,” she said, laying her hand on his chest, “open your heart.” She inclined her head toward the far end of the ballroom then walked away.


He looked at Erin and Donny, watching them laughing and enjoying themselves with strangers. Strangers. Not family, not him, but strangers, dancing with his sister and playing with his little brother. Several of his guard were talking to Donny. Donny looked up at them with stark admiration in his eyes. He eyed their battle gear and their swords with great awe. Erin was dancing gaily with a young man from a fine family, the boy’s parents watching closely. Braedon realized he knew nothing of his brother and sister, had not involved himself in either their upbringing or their lives in any way. Striding toward them, he stopped first in front of Erin. The young boy she danced with backed away quickly, bowing his head. Erin’s cheeks colored a bright pink and she dropped her chin to her chest. Did she think he would berate her for something? He realized he had no idea how to even begin. “You look…very pretty tonight, Erin.” Her head shot up and her eyes widened. “I do?” “Yes. May I have this dance?” Her smile made her eyes brighten. At that moment she reminded him of their mother. He told her so as he swept her into his arms and moved her into the center of the ballroom. Her cheeks pinkened. “Thank you, Braedon. People say I look like Mother. It makes me very happy to think so. I wondered if you would be upset to think I looked like her.” “And why do you think that would upset me?” “Because if I reminded you of her it would make you sad. I never want to make you sad. You have already had enough sadness in your life.” His heart tore in two. For years he had ignored her, yet she still cared about him, still loved him. He did not deserve it. He pressed his palm to her cheek. “Sweet Erin. I love you and I beg your forgiveness for not being as attentive as I should have been. You are growing into such a beautiful young lady. So much like our mother I can see I will have to keep a much closer watch on you lest some young man thinks to sweep you away before I am ready to let you go.” She smiled, her face beaming with light and happiness. He danced her over to the young man and kissed her hand, then bowed before her, turning next to his little brother. “Donny, come here.” Donny scurried over. “I did not do it, Braedon. And if I did, I promise not to do it again.” Braedon tried not to smile. “I see. I understand you have a fascination with swords.” Donny looked at his shoes. “The sword was just lying there. I did not know it belonged to you. I promise not to touch it again.”


Braedon’s lips quirked but he hid it behind his hand. “I see. What do you think we should do about this, Donny?” Donny kept his gaze down. “I do not know. I am sorry, Braedon. It was a very nice sword and I polished it like your guard told me to. It was very heavy too.” “I believe I know exactly what we should do. Tomorrow morning you will report to Gerard for military exercises and begin your training.” Donny’s head shot up and his eyes widened. “Really, Braedon?” “Aye. You are plenty old enough. But you must take your training seriously and do everything Gerard tells you. Understand?” “Oh yes. Thank you, Braedon!” The boy rushed up and threw his arms around Braedon’s middle. Braedon choked back emotion and ruffled Donny’s hair, realizing he should have been this child’s father figure from birth. He had been failing miserably in his duties for years. That would stop here and now. “You did well,” Nadine said later after the party began to dissipate. “I have been a fool,” Braedon said, nursing his cup of ale. “It took an outsider like Trista to point it out to me.” “Aye. That it did. And you owe her the biggest apology of all.” “Where is she?” he asked. “I do not know. She has been avoiding you all night.” And like the coward he was, he did not even look for her, knowing he needed to speak to her but wanting to put it off as long as possible. But now he could no longer avoid saying what needed to be said. “I am not very good at putting emotions into words. Whenever I open my mouth, I seem to insult her.” “You did a very fine job with Erin and Donny,” Nadine said. “Just speak from your heart with Trista too.” He nodded and went in search of her, having no idea what it was he would say when he found her. Chapter Nine

Once again Trista stood in the cool, calming forest of D’Naath, wondering if this time she shouldn’t just make the long trek back to her castle, despite the fact it would take several days to get there. Would her father welcome her or would he send her back to Braedon? Somehow she knew going back


to her father would only result in him sending her back to Greenbriar. Back to Braedon. She sighed and sat on the grass, lifting her skirt to tickle her toes at the water’s edge. She looked up at the moon, wishing it would provide answers. Instead, the silvery orb stared silently back at her. It seemed no matter what she tried to do, she would never be able to please Braedon. He thought her immature, foolish, a child. Oh he enjoyed fucking her, of course. Then he thought her a woman. But when it came time to talk with her, to treat her as his queen, he berated or belittled her. No more. She could not live with a man who treated her so. She would not subject herself to his constant insults. It was time to stop hiding in the forest and live with the way things would be. This was her punishment for her foolishness, for trying to help her sister. Now she had sealed her own fate and had fallen in love with a man who did not love her back. She had done exactly what she swore she would not do. Braedon had no feelings for her other than lust. And lust died, like leaves on a vine when winter breezed in and stole the life from it. That is what he would do to her. Her love and happiness would wither and die under the hot sun of Greenbriar and she could do nothing about it. And she could blame no one but herself, her own folly. Tears slid down her cheeks and she swiped them away, standing up and drying her toes in the soft grass. ‘Twas time to stop feeling sorry for herself and act like a woman grown. She would be queen and she would love her people. If Braedon did not care for and love his brother and sister, then she would be mother to them both. She had plenty to love and to love her back, even if the king did not share his heart with her. “Trista.” So lost in thought she had not heard him approach, she jumped when Braedon spoke her name. Her hand flew to her chest to calm her thumping heartbeat. “I did not hear you. You frightened me!” His lips quirked. “You? Magical faerie and you did not hear my approach?” “I was thinking.” “I see.” He put his hands behind his back and stepped toward her, so handsome and imposing as he swaggered along the banks of the stream and stopped in front of her. He picked up a curl of her hair that rested on her breast and teased it between his fingers. “Why are you here, Braedon?” “I seek my betrothed.” “I was about to go back to the castle.” “I wish to speak to you. Here will do.”


She waited to hear what he had to say, certain now that he had her alone he would berate her for the party. Nothing he said could hurt her more than he already had. “I have been watching you the past week.” And still she waited, but he said nothing further. “And?” “You have learned much about your duties.” “Yes, I have.” “You have done…an adequate job.” She snorted. She supposed, for Braedon, that could be considered a compliment. “Thank you.” “However…” Ah. Now she knew what was coming. “You cannot have parties without my permission. ‘Tis not allowed.” Sniffing, she turned her head away and looked into the forest, refusing to let him see the tears pooling in her eyes. “Therefore, I will have to punish you.” Jerking her head back to look at him, her eyes widened. “What did you say?” “I said you will be punished for arranging the celebration without permission.” How dare he?! Punish her? Surely he could not be serious to assume that he would beat her for having a party at the castle? Why he… “Braedon, what are you doing?” “Undressing.” She watched in confusion as he removed his clothing, taking his time and making no effort to explain why he had to be naked to punish her. “Did you not just say that you were going to punish me?” He smiled. “Aye.” “Then I ask again, what are you doing?” “And I answer again. Undressing.” Naked, his cock already hard and magnificently showcased in the moonlight, her mouth watered. How could she be so enraged and aroused at the same time? This was ridiculous! She hated him and wanted him with a ferocity that astounded her. The man was making her mad! “Remove your clothing, Trista,” he commanded.


“No.” She lifted her chin. “I said, remove your clothing. You are to be punished.” “I will not do as you say. This is insane.” “Do it or I will strip you myself.” Her sex swelled and moistened at the thought, fury and desire mixing together and confusing her. What was happening to her? She stood firm, refusing to budge or do his bidding. In one swift move he was upon her, jerking the laces of her dress apart. Though she did not fight him, she did not help him either other than to retract her wings to keep them from becoming injured. Instead, she stood rigid while he stripped the dress from her body. Every glide of his hand across her bare flesh was like a flame against her skin. She both loathed and craved Braedon at this moment. Confusion reigned inside her and she needed the counsel of her sisters, these emotions and sensations too foreign to comprehend. He was furious with her, yet he sprouted an erection. She was angered at him, yet her cunt swelled and heated, spilling cream of arousal down her thighs. How could this be? Braedon sat on the stump of a fallen tree and pulled Trista over his lap. She fought him mightly, to no avail. He held her firm within his grasp. “For defying me, you will be given the sound spanking I have threatened you with and should have given you long ago.” “Braedon, you will do no such thing!” But before she could finish speaking, his hand made contact with the bare skin of her buttocks with a resounding swat. She cried out at the hot sting and jerked against his thighs. He held her in place with his hand against her back, but instead of slapping her bare behind again, he rubbed the spot he had just spanked then caressed her thighs, coming close to touching her heated pussy. Was he teasing her? Trista stilled, realizing that after the first uncomfortable swat, the tender ministrations he gave were not at all unpleasant. In fact, they were quite, quite nice, indeed. But then he spanked her again, only this time she realized something. His swats felt…good. Stimulating, actually, when followed by a tender caress. Her core heated and she licked her lips. She found herself anticipating the next time he would spank her, the next time he would caress her, hoping he would touch her pussy, her clit, massage the ache forming between her legs. She began to relax against him, move against his thighs. She moaned when he slapped her buttocks, even lifted up into the spanking to generate more of the fiery heat when his hand made contact with her skin. Stars, these were amazing sensations! “I think you are enjoying this spanking,” he teased, his voice low and dark. “Aye,” she whimpered, no longer caring that she begged. “Please, Braedon. More.”


He smoothed his hand over her buttocks then came down hard on one globe before sliding between her legs to cup her wet mound. He swatted her pussy, though not as hard as her buttocks, and she cried out at the delicious sensation. Sparks flew to her core and she nearly had an orgasm. Then he withdrew his hand, concentrating on hard, punishing swats to her behind again. Oh, it hurt. But it was indescribably erotic too. And as soon as she thought she could take no more, as soon as she felt pain, he would stop spanking her, rubbing the spots he had smacked, circling her tender flesh with gentle caresses. Her buttocks were on fire, her pussy needy. She spread her legs wider and he swatted her cunt again. “You are a very bad girl, Trista. Drop to your knees and suck my cock.” He pulled her off his lap and she readily complied, eagerly engulfing his hard shaft between her hungry lips. His own cream spilled onto her tongue as he thrust his cock into her mouth, holding the back of her head as he fed her. She sucked him hard, licking the juices he gave her, loving the taste and texture of him. But even in this he punished her, because all too soon he pulled his shaft from her lips and drew her onto his lap once again. “More?” he asked, gently rubbing her buttocks. Her pussy clenched in spasm. “More,” she begged. The spanking was welcome. She knew not this pleasure, but oh how she enjoyed it. Spreading her legs again, she whimpered when he swatted her cunt again, feeling the heat and wetness of her juices as they poured from her. Braedon rubbed her there, where she ached the most, taking her closer to the climax she craved, but then pulled his hand away to smack her again, repeating the process over and over again until her rear felt like it was on fire and her pussy throbbed with an incessant, pounding pulse of need. He finally stopped spanking her and concentrated on her pussy, driving his fingers inside her, stroking her, gathering her juices then withdrawing to coat her clit with her own cream. When she thought she could bear it no more, he slid his hand along her slit again and between the globes of her buttocks to coat her anus. “Such a beautiful ass you have, Trista,” he murmured, keeping one hand firmly planted on the small of her back. She wriggled against him, positioning her pussy against his thigh, anything so her clit would make contact with his flesh. His hard cock jutted against her hip, but he ignored her silent pleas, instead circling the tight hole of her backside with her juices. She had never felt such incredible sensation there before. It was like magic! So intense, such a feeling of needing something more. She loved the feeling of his fingers circling the tight passage. “Have you ever penetrated yourself back here?” “No.” “I’m going to. First with my finger and then with my cock.” She shuddered at the thought of his thick cock inside her anus, wondering if it would hurt. She’d heard


of couples fucking that way but had never experimented on herself. Braedon slipped his fingers into her juices again and poured more of them between her buttocks. “So wet and slick there, so hot. It will feel good, my sweet faerie, I promise.” He swirled his finger through the moistness and around the tight rosette. Stars, it did feel good to have him tease her back there. She had not expected to feel such pleasure. “Relax and you will enjoy it more. I will not hurt you. If it does, simply tell me to stop and I will.” She believed him and relaxed the tension in her body, closing her eyes and once again concentrating on his touch. Soon, she was enveloped in the sensations of his hands on her, touching her clit, sliding inside her pussy, while the other hand circled her anus. When he pushed one finger past the tight barrier there, she tensed, but only for a moment as the sharp pain shocked her, then quickly subsided. Braedon dribbled her juices around his finger from his other hand, coating it and lubricating it, allowing his finger to glide easily inside the tight sheath. Then he maneuvered his other hand underneath to cup her mound and caress her clit, making her forget about any sort of pain. How could she feel pain when she felt such amazing pleasure? She lifted her hips as he swirled his hand over her sex and plunged his finger deeper into her anus. The pressure built, bringing her closer and closer until she could not hold back. “Braedon!” He withdrew his finger partially from her anus and then thrust it in deeply as she cried out, over the edge with an orgasm that made her magic burst within her. She held tight to his thigh and screamed her pleasure while he caressed her clit and slid the fingers of his other hand into her pussy, holding her in place while she rocked against him and rode out the sensations that threatened to topple her off his lap. She shuddered against him and finally gained her balance while he withdrew his hands and pulled her off his lap, then laid her on her back on the soft grass while he cleaned his hands in the water. She expected him to invade her anus with his cock right then and she prepared herself for it, trying to remain relaxed but knowing there would be a big difference between one finger and his thick shaft. But he did not. Instead, he leaned over her and captured her lips with his, teasing them back and forth across hers and licking at the tip of her tongue. She shuddered at the tenderness. Her lips parted and she reached for him, spreading her legs to accommodate his weight as he settled on top of her to take her mouth fully. Heat exploded inside her once again and she threaded her fingers in his hair to bring him closer, needing to feel him fully against her. But he withdrew, sliding down her body to capture one nipple in his mouth, flattening it against the roof of his mouth and his tongue, suckling it until she could not bear the exquisite torment and lifted her hips, wanting his cock buried inside her instead. “Patience, my faerie,” he murmured against her breast, staring at the nipple he released from the clutches of his mouth. Patience? She had no patience. Not when he licked around the other nipple and then drew it between his teeth to tug at it until sparks burst behind her eyes and she cried out with the pleasure of it.


When he trailed his tongue across her ribs and lower, excitement bloomed like dolaberries after the first rain of spring, bursting from deep inside her and covering her skin in a warm flush. He cradled her buttocks in his hands and lifted her bottom. “Spread your legs for me, Trista,” he commanded. She did, opening herself for him, offering whatever he asked if he would only take her once again. When he circled his tongue around her clit, she laid her head on the soft grass and sighed in delight. He slid his tongue lower to capture the juices of her pussy and she tangled her fingers in the grass, felt the burning heat surround her. But then her world shattered as Braedon moved lower and lapped her anus with the warmth of his tongue. Her head shot up and she cried out, eyes widening in shock. “Braedon!” “Shh, relax, faerie,” he murmured, “for I wish to taste you everywhere. To make you mine everywhere.” He bent down and teased her anus again with his tongue, sliding it around the small opening again and again until she thought she’d die from the pleasure of it. She laid her head down and closed her eyes, biting her lip as the new sensations took her places she had never been before. He invaded the small hole with the tip of his tongue, fucking her ass as he had with his finger, as he soon would with his cock. She bucked against him, these strange sensations sending her spiraling out of control. She did not want them to stop, for they were truly magical. But then she grew cold as he moved away from her and opened her eyes to see what he was about. On his knees between her legs, he positioned his cock at her slit and slid inside her pussy. Magic. Her muscles gripped him as he pushed inside, welcoming him, squeezing him as he drove deep. She pulsed and came, crying out and grasping his arms, golden dust surrounding them as she rode out a hard and fast orgasm. Braedon rocked slowly against her until the waves subsided, then withdrew, letting her juices seep from her pussy to her anus, coating the small hole while he positioned his cock head there. “I want to be inside you there, my love,” he said. She nodded, still pulsing, still needing to feel part of him. He lifted her legs and bent her knees, then pushed them back toward her head, opening her wide for him as he pushed against her anus with his cock head. He smiled down at her, his blue eyes as dark as a gathering storm in the heat of summer. Her heart filled with love for him and she reached out to touch his chest even as he leaned over her and pushed past the tight barrier within her. She gasped and he stilled, then reached down with one hand to coat his finger in her juices and caress her clit. Soon the pain subsided and all she felt was pleasure. Fiery hot pleasure and she wanted more of it. “More,” she said and he inched deeper, sliding more fully inside her, still petting her clit, still taking her closer to that magical place again. “So tight,” he said, pushing further until he was fully sheathed inside her. He leaned back and grasped her knees. “Touch yourself for me while I fuck you, Trista.”


She reached down and found the hard knot, flicked it with her finger, watching his brow arch as she did so. “That excites me,” he said. “I know.” She patted her pussy and slid two fingers in her cunt, feeling his cock inside her anus. She fucked herself in tandem with his strokes in her ass, using her other hand to swirl over her clit. The sensations were maddening, like being fucked by more than one man. Soon she could not speak, could only watch Braedon as he reared back and thrust forward. Sweat beaded on his brow, lines furrowing there as he concentrated on watching the movements of her hands as she fucked her fingers in and out of her pussy. She felt the tightening around her own fingers as her climax approached. Braedon pumped harder then drove deep and shuddered, roaring as he came. She screamed into the night and golden dust covered them both as her orgasm burst from her in a wave of shattering magic, lifting them both off the ground to hover until they were both spent and in each other’s arms. When she took them to ground again, Braedon withdrew, picked her up and took them both to the water, where he bathed her tenderly and brought her back to the soft grass. She expected him to dress and return to the castle as he had every other time, but this time he pulled her into his arms and placed her head on his shoulders, caressing her back. Astounded at this change in him, she looked up at the night sky and stared at the stars, afraid to move or speak lest this magical spell be broken. “I have much to learn about this woman thing and how to deal with you. I know I have made mistakes.” Her eyes widened. “But I am willing to try.” She leaned up to gaze into his face, certain the real Braedon had been replaced by someone else. “All right.” He grinned and pulled her down for a kiss. Perhaps this man she was falling in love with was not such an ogre after all. She laid her head on his shoulder once again and thanked the stars, for the first time filled with hope that her life here at Greenbriar might work out after all. Chapter Ten

Braedon knew the moment they stepped from the forest that something was not right. Several dozen of his guard stood at the entrance, their faces grim. “What happened?” he asked. “Wizards,” Lavare said. “Attacked.”


Damn. “Casualties?” “A few guard. Injuries, no fatalities.” But there was more and he knew it. He felt the squeeze of Trista’s hand in his. “Tell me.” “They took your brother, my king.” Trista gasped and cried out, “Oh, no!” Donny. For a brief second Braedon squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again and pushed away the emotion threatening to swallow him whole. The nightmares of the past came rushing back at him. “Tell me everything so we can plan an attack and rescue.” “I can help,” Trista said, tugging on his arm as he began to walk away. He whirled on her, too furious to speak. “Braedon, please. Let me help. I am familiar with the wizards and their magic. I can help. My people can help.” Unable to hold his anger in, he said, “You will do nothing. It is because of you that he is gone. We have not had a wizard attack since my father was killed because we were always on guard, always prepared. But since you arrived and arranged frivolity and this idiotic celebration, look at what happened! Because of you my brother has been taken! Because of you we relaxed our standards and because of you I might lose another one of the people I love! Go to your room, faerie. You have done quite enough to ‘help’.” He turned and walked away, ignoring her stricken look. He had neither the time nor the desire to make her feel better. ‘Twas the truth that it was her fault Donny was taken and he would not let her hide from the facts. There was much to be done. He would get his brother back. The wizards would not harm another member of his family. Not this time. Never again.

Trista paced the great room, her belly twisting in knots as she watched Nadine rock an inconsolable Erin in her arms. Tears streamed down the young girl’s face and she would occasionally give in to racking sobs, only to stop and start again, wailing about her brother. She wished she could do the same but would not allow herself to wallow in self-pity. Hurt beyond the ability to do much other than pace back and forth, Trista refused to shed a single tear over Braedon’s words. How could he think this was her fault? Did he not know what the wizards were after? Did he not recognize the coincidence of her arrival and the attack? ‘Twas not the party or the relaxed atmosphere


that caused the wizards to attack. ‘Twas her presence, her magic, that made them appear. ‘Twas her they were after. Donny was the bait. She was the prize. She felt their pull, their call to her, their insidious, sickening magic trying to weave their way inside her mind. She knew where they were and what they wanted. Despite her fear and inexperience, she had to do this and she had to do it alone, knowing Braedon would not believe her, would not allow her to help in any way. He blamed her for all this and she had to show him she could help. She would free Donny and give Braedon back his family and peace of mind, even if it cost her own life to do so. Escaping the castle grounds was not a problem since by now they were used to her coming and going into the forest. Besides, they were all busy looking for Donny. And Braedon avoided her. She waited a day to make sure he would not seek her out, though she was not certain if she did so to make sure he would not come to her or to see if he would. Or hope he would. But of course he did not. He would not. He had told her he did not need or want her help. Even the people of the castle who had started to approach her, to befriend her, had withdrawn from her. Once again, Greenbriar had become a tomb of silence, a castle of ice in the heart of the hottest lands of summer. The only ones who would speak to her were Nadine and Erin, and they spent much of their time together consoling each other. ‘Twas easy to slip out late the following night when no one was about. But as she headed downstairs she ran into Erin. “What are you about so late, Erin?” “I cannot sleep.” “Where is Nadine?” “In my room. Snoring.” Erin managed a slight smile and Trista tried the same. “You should go back to your room in case she wakes up so she will not worry where you are.” “Where are you going, Trista?” “For a walk.” Erin tilted her head and looked at Trista. “You are fully dressed and it is the middle of the night. Are you leaving us?” Erin was much too intelligent for one so young. “Of course not. Like you, I am having trouble sleeping.” “I miss Donny. He will never be returned to us, will he?” Trista sat in a nearby chair and pulled Erin into one next to it. “Of course he will. I will see to it.” As soon as she said the words she regretted it.


Erin’s eyes widened. “You will? You can bring him back to us? How?” “I will try, Erin. But you must not say a word to anyone, especially not to Braedon. He does not think I can help.” “You will use your magic.” “Aye.” Erin pondered for a moment. “Is it dangerous for you?” She patted Erin’s hand. “I will be fine. Now you go up to bed and I promise to try my best to bring Donny home to you.” Erin nodded and they stood, then the girl threw her arms around Trista. “I love you, my sister. Please be careful. I do not want to lose you too.” Trista’s eyes welled up with unshed tears. She nodded and hurried from the castle. The guards watching the castle paid no attention to her. Braedon and the other guards were out searching for Donny. In the wrong place, of course. Not that he would have listened to her had she tried to tell him, which she did not. Instead, she slipped into the forest, passing by the lake where she and Braedon had shared lovemaking, wishing she could go back and share the warmth and passion of his body again, wishing she could somehow change what had happened. But she could not change what had happened to Donny. She could only trade her magic for Donny’s safety. Magic was light, laughter and love, none of which she would need again when her heart was a cold stone without Braedon’s trust and love. How many times did she need to have her heart crushed before she decided to live her life without the warmth and passion of love? Nay, she needed no magic in her heart. The wizards could have it. And if her life be forfeit, so be it. She would gladly give it up to those evil beings if it would spare the life of an innocent child she had grown to love. For she would give what love she had to Donny and to Erin. She had none to give to their brother. He had hurt her for the last time and she would never allow him to hurt her again. The forest grew colder, the sweet sounds stilled and the evil of the wizards filled her senses as she entered between the faerie realm and hers. This was the forbidden area where she had never broached before, where the beauty of D’Naath became shrouded in the evil of the wizards’ hold, the dark place that neither controlled but both coveted. ‘Twas here she would stop and call forth the wizards, telling them she would willingly trade her magic for Donny’s life. They would come. ‘Twould not be long now. She flew upon a tree branch and drew her knees to her chest, clasping her arms around her legs for


warmth from the unaccustomed chill. Barren, no leaves, no lush growth sheltered her. Only sticks for branches that cut into her legs and bottom. No birdsong entertained her, no softly lulling rush of water to pleasure her senses. Instead, all she felt was dead inside and out. She closed her eyes and called the wizards in her mind.

Despite the weariness bearing down on him, Braedon intended to only grab a quick bite to eat for him and his men before heading out to search again for Donny, but first he had to make an apology. As he had been out searching for his brother, he had plenty of time to think of all the events that had taken place over the past day since Donny had been taken. And one of the most important things had been his accusations against Trista. Misplaced accusations. Vicious accusations. Once again, he had hurt the one person he cared the most about. The one woman he had come to… Love. Yes, by God, he loved her. And he needed her. Riding out and searching the darkness for his brother, he realized he wanted to come home and find her waiting there for him. He wanted to wrap himself in her arms and feel her strength. And he wanted her to love him as much as he loved her. But how could she when all he had ever done was hurt her? From the first day she had arrived he had insulted her, treated her like a child, fucked her like a woman and then berated her for acting like one. ‘Twas a wonder she still remained with him. Then, when she had given him such an incredible gift, he had blamed her for the wizards’ abduction of his brother, when ‘twas not her fault at all. He had much to atone for, to his people and mostly to her… If she would forgive him. He bounded up the stairs and knocked on the door to her chambers. No answer. He turned the knob and entered but found the room dark. Perhaps she kept company with Erin and Nadine, but when he went to his sister’s room, Nadine said Trista had not been in there. Where could she be? He turned to leave, but Erin stopped him. “She is going to bring Donny home.” Braedon went cold. “What?” “She asked me not to tell you, but you were so mean to her I think you should know. You should tell her


you are sorry.” “What do you mean she is going to bring Donny home?” “She told me she is going to use her magic to bring him home. She left earlier this eve to go get him.” “How? Where?” “I do not know.” He grabbed Erin and kissed her forehead. “Thank you. And you are right. I do owe her an apology.” Hurrying from the room, he shouted for his guards, grabbing weapons and horses, intending to violate the treaty with D’Naath. She was in the forest. Though his men were uncomfortable with entering the magic lands of D’Naath, they would do whatever he asked them to. The cool forest welcomed them and he followed it as far as the lake, remembering the last time he and Trista shared an evening there, hoping it would not be the last time he would hold her in his arms. He had to find her. Foolish faerie. Why would she go off and search for Donny on her own? If she knew where he was held, why would she not come to him and tell him? Because he told her he was not interested in her magic and wanted her to stay out of his way. He told her she caused Donny’s disappearance. He told her many things, all of them cruel and hurtful. Merciful God, would he have the chance to take them back?

Trista felt as if she had been on the branch for days, when it had been only hours. The sun had risen and sat high overhead, yet the high branches obscured the sun. Not that the sun would be welcome in this place. She was stiff, cold and hungry, yet loath to move since she had sent out her message. The least the wizards could have done was hurry. Did they have to call a meeting to discuss her offer? Could they not just wing their way here with their magic? How difficult could this be? Perhaps they thought her a powerful faerie and they could not fight her. She snorted. Clearly she was becoming delirious and suffering flights of fancy. Yet even as she thought of them, she felt their approach. Standing, she stretched her limbs and her wings, flying off the tree and landing with a soft touch on the leaf-strewn ground, then inched her way into the flatlands, drawing them where she wanted them. The last thing she would do is meet them on their ground. She moved east of the flatlands, from neutral territory back into the forests of D’Naath, where her magic was stronger. They might normally be reluctant to follow her there, but follow her they would, for their desire for her magic was stronger than their hesitation to enter the faerie forest. She barely skirted the edge of D’Naathian land, but she hovered there, waiting for them, sensing their approach. Their cloying hands dipped into her mind, already trying


to grasp her magic and take it from her. But she would not give it up so easily. She steeled her will and kept her magic closed. First they would free Donny. After that, they could have her magic. The forest held her powers firm as she watched the sky overhead darken with their approach. Like a swarm of thick insects, they hovered overhead then swooped down, surrounding her, cutting off her air with their evil stench. Fear choked her as she felt the isolation. Her stomach tumbled and she feared she would not be able to handle so many of them coming at her. She had heard stories of the wizards, had engaged them in battle with her mind when her sister Noele had fought them on behalf of Garick, her husband, but never had she seen them. Their faces, thin and skeletal, evil masks of hatred and greed, grew closer, their bony fingers reaching for her. Refusing to inch away, she stood firm, chin held high, determined not to let them see her terror. “Where is the child?” she asked, hoping they did not detect the tremor in her voice. “The child is fine,” one stated as he came forward, his voice gentle and soft. He thought to reassure her, but she knew better. “Bring him forth or I will not yield and you will lose that which you seek.” If they had to fight to take what they wanted, some of her magic would be lost to them and they knew it. But still, he reached for her so she took a deep breath and cast her powers in his direction. “Back away!” The wizard’s hand stilled in mid-air and he inched backward. “Very well.” Motioning behind him to the others, they parted and Donny came rushing through. Trista enveloped him in her arms, tightening her hold on him and casting a quick protective spell around him. “Donny, are you all right?” “Yes, Trista,” he said, his tiny voice muffled against her stomach. “The wizards smell.” She smiled. “Yes, they do. Did they harm you?” “No, but they would not let me go home. I want to go home, Trista.” Her eyes pooled with tears. Angry tears that these vile creatures would take a small child and use him as a pawn. “And you will go home very soon. Stand behind me, and as soon as I tell you, take the path directly behind you. It will lead right to the castle. Do not stop. Run and go home, do you understand?” “Will you go with me?” She crouched down and looked at him, brushing dirt away from his cheeks. “I must stay here and talk to the wizards. They have been very bad. But you must go home. Braedon and Erin and Aunt Nadine are very worried about you and miss you.” He frowned and shook his head. “I want you to go with me, Trista.” “I cannot do that, Donny. I must stay here and talk with them. Please do as I ask. ‘Tis the only way. Will


you do that for me?” He cast his eyes downward and nodded. “Aye.” “Good boy.” She ruffled his hair and kissed his cheek. “You tell your brother that I love him and I am sorry for causing him such pain, but I must stay here and deal with the wizards now. Will you remember to tell him these things?” “Yes, Trista. I will remember.” “Good boy. I love you. Tell Erin I love her too. Now go.” As Donny ran down the path, Trista turned toward the wizards, lifting her arms. The skies opened, lightning pouring down around her. “You will take what I offer, but not before the boy is safely returned to his people. Until then, I hold you here under the power of faerie magic!” A cry of outrage spilled around her as the wizards roared and surrounded her. She felt them pressing down on her, reaching into her mind to take her powers away. She knew she could not hold them long before they penetrated her defenses, but hopefully long enough for Donny to make his way to safety. She could already feel herself weakening. This time, she let the tears fall freely, wishing this could somehow have ended differently. If only she and Braedon could have met in the middle and worked together. If only he had let her love him. If only…

Braedon’s heart slammed in his chest when he heard the words Trista spoke to Donny. He and his guards had approached on horseback, sliding off their mounts and inching toward the wizards surrounding her. As soon as Donny took off down the path, Braedon sent two of his men to intercept him and take him out of harm’s way and back to the castle. Watching the wizards surround Trista now, watching the way she threw her magic at them, he was stunned by her bravery, by her willingness to sacrifice herself to save Donny. He was humbled by her courage, realizing how very much he had misjudged her. Where he had thought her childish and inexperienced, he realized now she was a very powerful faerie, filled with love and magic he did not even begin to understand. Love did not make one weak. It strengthened one. Trista’s love for him and for Donny gave her strength to do what she did now. He had underestimated her at every turn and he had much to atone for. If he was given the chance. No! Hewould be given the chance. Pulling his sword, he gave the signal to his men to charge the wizards. If love gave her strength, it would do the same for him. Opening his heart, he let his love for Trista fill him, empower him. He would save her as she had saved Donny.


With the power and strength of his love for them. Trista’s eyes widened as she spotted him. If what Braedon suspected was true, she would hear him in her mind. Stand firm and do not let your wall of magic down. I am here to help you, to save you. No! Go away, Braedon. Your brother is safe. Make sure he gets back to the castle. I am already doing that. Have faith in me, my love. I will take care of you too. She paused then shook her head.You are no match for these wizards, Braedon. Please, go away before you are hurt . He smiled at her.I know you are more powerful than I, a mere human, my faerie. But you must trust that I know what I am doing. Protect yourself and your magic and allow me to do what I can from here. Braedon, please. Must you always argue, faerie? ‘Tis hardly the time. I am about to battle. We can do this later. She smiled at himHe grinned and lifted his sword, charging the wizards full force. They turned away from Trista and engaged him and his guards in battle. Their foul stench was like rotting garbage on a hot day and he forced back the bile rising in his throat, fending off their bolts of hot flame with his sword. Their magic might be powerful but was no match for his skills with a sword. He dispatched them easily despite their numbers advancing on him and his men. These wizards were lazy, had no organization, no battle plan other than to rush and attack. They were disjointed, scrambling and turning, no method other than to hurl their power balls at random targets. In the meantime, Braedon and his men were slicing through them handily, but still were outnumbered and more wizards arrived from the air, descending upon them like a sudden rainstorm. Though Braedon’s troops were better organized, he feared they would soon lose the battle through sheer numbers. Take my strength,Trista told him.They will take my magic if you do not. I can will it to you. No! You hold on to it to keep them at bay. You will lose without it. Trista, no! But he already felt himself strengthen, knew she was transferring her power to him and his men, felt it surge within him. He ran to her, pushing past the wizards as her magic gave him the strength equal to that of the wizards. Bolts of lightning shot from the tip of his sword as he sliced through the wizards trying to stop him from reaching Trista. He swept his arm around her waist just as she would have crumpled to the ground. Her eyes were closed, her face pale as she lay there limp in his arms while he fought off wizards in front of him.


He did not even need to speak, using mental thoughts to have his guard surround his side and back and keep the wizards from harming Trista, for he knew she still held the key to her magic, knew the power she gave him would only help temporarily. They would never be able to fight off so many of the evil lords amassing to fight. They must want this faerie’s magic badly to send so many of their own to take it from her. He would protect it as long as he could, or die trying. “I love you, Trista,” he whispered, refusing to let her go, even though he knew he could fight better if he wasn’t holding her. But he would not risk one of the wizards taking her from him. But then a thunder came from the other side of the forest, a crashing as limbs shook so hard that even the wizards paused, their sunken eyes widening in shock and fear. Braedon held his breath, wondering what manner of beast would come forth, but then he expelled it in relief as he saw the elvin guard, led by a fierce-looking warrior with flowing dark hair and a sword raised high over his head, engaging the wizards in a violent battle that gave Braedon and his guards renewed strength. Now the wizards were the ones outmatched. Though they continued to battle, soon they were fleeing overhead, their angry screams echoing in the night skies above, until the forest was emptied and the evil dissipated, leaving only the stars visible and the moon overhead. Braedon looked down at Trista, closing his eyes and with his will transferring her magic back to her. The tall, imposing elvin leader approached, laying his hand on her forehead. “Trista.” He looked up at Braedon. “I am Roarke, captain of the guard of Garick, King of Winterland, who has bestowed upon me the Kingdom of Boreas.” Braedon nodded. “You have my thanks. You and your people are welcome at Greenbriar.” “Is she injured?” “I do not know. She gave me her magic.” Roarke nodded. “Aye. Her sister Solara did the same for me in a recent battle I fought with the wizards. Solara will know what to do. She is with me but protected from this battle, though nearby. I will fetch her and meet you at the castle.” Solara. His former betrothed. And Roarke, the elvin male Trista said Solara loved instead. Braedon nodded and lifted Trista onto his horse, hurrying back to the castle to await the arrival of Roarke and Solara. He hoped they were not too late to save Trista’s life. He had much to say to the woman he loved. Chapter Eleven

Trista felt far away, as if reality were just out of her grasp and she had to struggle so hard to reach for it. She fought, hearing the voices of those she loved compelling her to return to them.


“Trista, come back to us, sweet sister.” She heard her sister Solara, she knew she had! She could not be dreaming it, but ‘twas like swimming against the tide in the strong northern oceans. And she was tired. So very tired. “My faerie.” And that…that was Braedon’s voice. “We have much to discuss and you have slept long enough, lazy one. ‘Tis time for you to awaken.” His voice, so deep it entered her very bones and made her shudder with the need to touch him, to run her fingertips along his skin. She swam harder, closing her eyes and concentrating on her magic to give her strength to make it to shore. Suddenly she felt all her sisters surrounding her. Noele and the twins, Elisa and Mina. Their magic filled her and gave her the power she needed to open her eyes. At first she only saw haze and darkened shapes, but she felt no fear. Only love and magic. She felt a hand in hers and instinctively knew it was her sister. “Solara,” she whispered. “Aye, little minx. Now focus and come fully back to me. How can I yell at you if you are lying abed ill and near death?” Trista smiled. “I am trying. Give me but a moment and you can be angry.” Solara laughed, the sound like the music of angels. “Hurry. I have been waiting a long time and I have a list of your transgressions.” “I have been waiting too, my faerie.” “Braedon.” She blinked and focused on the dark shape looming over her bed, her vision clearing. He leaned over her, his blue eyes so like the sea of D’Naath. And he was smiling. “Are you angry with me too, Braedon?” “No, I am not angry,” he said, his face giving away nothing of his emotions. He was neither smiling nor frowning. “And we too have much to discuss. So you need to get well.” “I am well, now.” She started to sit up, but dizziness assailed her and she laid her head back on the pillow. “Or I will be in a moment.” “You rest.” He laid his hand on your shoulder. “There is time for us to talk. Visit with your sister for a while. Our talk can wait.” She did not want to wait. Then again, perhaps she could wait to hear what she knew he wanted to tell her.


That he could not marry her. That despite saving her brother, he could never forgive her for putting Donny at risk, that they were a poor match. They had differing goals and outlooks on life and would never mesh well. She looked down at her lap, refusing to let him see how unhappy she was. “All right, Braedon. We will talk later.” “I will accompany Braedon so you and Trista can talk,” Roarke said, leaning over to kiss Trista on the forehead. “Brat,” he whispered, then followed up with a whispered, “Thank you.” Trista stared open-mouthed at Roarke’s retreating form. After they left the room, Solara sat on the bed next to her, wrapping her arms around her. “I have missed you, little sister.” Trista hugged Solara tight. “I have missed you too. And Noele and Mina and Elisa. Tell me, are you all well?” Solara pulled away, her face flushed as scarlet as her hair and wings, the red flecks on her skin glowing. Her eyes sparkled with the telltale sign of love. She nodded. “Aye. Very. I want to strangle you and thank you at the same time for what you have done for me.” Trista grinned. “I take it you and Roarke have worked things out?” “Even better than we could have imagined. We are to be married, and despite how angry I am at what you have done, ‘tis all because of you.” “I am glad it worked out then. I did what I thought was best, Solara. ‘Twas quite obvious how much you two loved each other. From the first time we stepped into Winterland castle for Noele’s wedding to Garick, sparks flew between you and Roarke. You were fated to be together. One does not turn a blind eye to fate.” “Father tells me that Braedon has accepted you in my stead. I am sorry to hear you were forced to become betrothed to him in my stead.” “He will not marry me now, so you need not worry I will be forced to wed him.” Solara’s penetrating gaze was unnerving and Trista looked down. But her sister tipped her chin upward with her finger. “Trista, have you fallen in love with Braedon?” She blinked twice to hold back the tears, but she could not. They fell down her cheeks and she nodded. “Aye. I have fallen in love with him and have made a miserable mess of this entire situation.” She told Solara what she had done, what Braedon had gone through with his family and the wizards and what happened to Donny after the party. Solara stood and fluttered to the window, opening it to let the day’s light inside. Trista glared at the warm sunshine that did not match her dark mood. “‘Tis hardly your fault that the wizards decided to snatch Donny right after a party. One thing had nothing to do with another, when ‘twas your magic they were after. Party or not, they would have taken


him anyway.” “Makes no difference. Too much has happened between us to salvage our relationship now. I am certain he will rescind his commitment to marriage.” Solara gasped. “He dare not do so. He would lose much by violating the pact between our people and his.” “I do not think he cares. He prefers his isolation. I should not have interfered, though I am glad I did. ‘Twas worth any price to see you so happy and in love. You will make a beautiful queen, Solara.” Solara hurried to her bedside, once again enveloping her in her arms. “I am sorry that my happiness came at such a high cost to you, my sweet sister. I wish there was something I could do.” “I am merely to pay the price for my own foolishness,” Trista whispered, hugging her sister. “We will see,” Solara said. “We will see about that.”

“If you do not marry my sister, you are a complete and utter fool.” Braedon and Roarke looked up from the papers on Braedon’s desk and regarded Solara, who fluttered in, her brows knit in a tight frown. Truly a mesmerizing creature with her long scarlet hair and flaming red flecks covering her skin, Braedon wondered if things would have been different if she had remained his betrothed. Though, truth told, he could not imagine holding any faerie in his arms besides Trista. Besides, ‘twas quite clear from the look of utter rapture in Roarke’s eyes when Solara entered the room that the two of them were, indeed, destined to be together. “Solara, what is wrong with you?” Roarke asked. “He is what is wrong with me,” she said, pointing to Braedon. “He intends to rescind his marriage contract to Trista.” Braedon leaned against the corner of the desk and crossed his arms. “I do?” “You do?” Roarke asked, arching a brow. When Braedon shrugged, Roarke nodded. Did not take too much to figure out where this conversation had originated. “Trista,” they both said in unison. “Aye, Trista,” she admonished, glaring at Braedon. “She told me you planned to back out of your marriage.” “I have no intention of doing so. I love your sister.” “Well, I can tell you right now that the faeries will not tolerate…what?”


Braedon’s lips twitched as he fought back laughter. “I have every intention of marrying your sister, Solara. I am in love with her. As usual, she has gotten a ridiculous notion in her head that is entirely of her own making. I have said nothing to give her the impression I wish to alter the terms of our betrothal.” “Oh.” Solara blinked, looked at Roarke then back at Braedon. “Very well, then. Now that I have sufficiently embarrassed myself, I will beg your leave and will take myself away and fling myself off the cliff to my death. Good day.” Now he did laugh. Roarke grabbed Solara and pulled her against him. “Such drama, my love. Hardly necessary. If Braedon is going to marry into this madness, he might as well get used to it. Especially since he is marrying Trista, who is prone to flights of dramatic fancy, even more so than the rest of you.” “I have no flights of dramatic fancy, thank you. I believe I will leave those kinds of flights in the hands of my more than capable, sister. My apologies, Braedon, for misjudging you. Clearly my sister needs a good talking to. Or a spanking.” The thought of spanking her again brought back visuals of the night Donny was taken. But instead of painful memories, he only thought pleasurable ones. Ones of him and Trista by the lake in the forest, enjoying each other’s passions. He intended to make many more memories like those, until the bad memories of his past were completely put to rest. “I will speak to your sister this evening and put her fears to rest. She misunderstood my intention to wait to speak to her until she felt better.” “Welcome to our family, Braedon,” Solara said, laying her forehead to his and grasping his hands in hers. “May the magic of all the faeries be upon you. Marrying Trista, I feel you will need all you can get.” ***** Too restless to remain abed, Trista rose and bathed, then dressed, pacing the room like an animal cornered and unable to escape. She had already spent part of the day visiting with Donny, Erin and Nadine, who were all happy to see her, and she them, but she held part of her joy back, knowing she would not be able to completely celebrate with them since she would soon be leaving the castle and returning to her homeland. She would be leaving Braedon. There would be no happiness, no celebrations at Greenbriar as everyone thought. The sooner she had her discussion with Braedon, the sooner she could move on with her life. Whatever that meant. What did it matter anyway? Without Braedon by her side, did it matter what happened to her? “You are as nervous as a moth near flame, Trista.” She whirled and found him standing in her doorway. Tall, imposing and so handsome she held her breath. His hair was brushed away from his face, still damp from his bath. His face clean shaven, his eyes such a startling blue she could never tire of looking at them. She would miss them, but she would never forget their unique coloring. He would haunt her dreams the


rest of her days. “Come to my chambers,” he commanded, standing out of her way and bidding her entrance. She entered his bedchambers and he directed her to the seating area near the hearth. Retracting her wings, she sat in the chaise and folded her hands in her lap, her heart pounding so loud she felt it would deafen her. Hurry and say the words, she begged silently. She could not bear the waiting. “I have business to discuss with you,” he started, walking back and forth behind the chaise. She did not turn around to look at him, unable to bear looking at him, knowing if she did she would burst into tears. “Aye. I know you do.” “So you know what I need to discuss with you.” “Aye,” she said, hoping he would not detect the misery in her voice. “Over the past few weeks I have come to several realizations about our betrothal. It is important that a man and a woman are…compatible. That they share the same likes and dislikes. That they share common goals. Obviously our beginning was a bit…unusual.” “Yes.”Please, Braedon. Do not prolong this. My heart hurts. “Therefore, I have sent Roarke’s guards to fetch your family so that we may marry as soon as possible.” “I understand. ‘Tis for the best.” “I thought you would say that.” His words penetrated the fog of her brain and she jerked around to look at him. “What did you say?” “You heard me.” He arched a brow and quirked a smile. “You sent…to fetch…marry?” “Yes. Soon. Very soon. I find myself too impatient to wait much longer, Trista. I must have you as my wife and my queen as soon as possible.” “Braedon!” She leaped over the chaise and into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. His mouth claimed hers with a fierce possession before she could utter anything other than his name. But then no words were necessary as he told her with his mouth and his hands how he felt about her. He parted the seam of her lips with his tongue, ravaging hers with nothing less than impatient insistence. She moaned into his mouth, feeling like it had been an eternity since she had been in his arms, since she had tasted the warmth of his lips against hers. Her dress ripped as he pulled it apart to reveal her breasts, then moved her so that her bottom rested on the top of the chaise. She gripped it and leaned back, allowing him access to her breasts. He bent and took one bud into his mouth, sucking it between his lips and flicking it with his tongue until she cried out, feeling the heat between her legs, moistening her, readying her for him.


“I have missed you. I have much to tell you, to apologize for. I have wronged you in—” She placed her finger on his lips to silence him. “Apology accepted. Knowing you want me is more than enough.” “Feel how much I want you, faerie.” He stepped between her legs and rocked against her pussy, his erection hot, hard and straining against his breeches. She shuddered, the sensation nearly taking her over the edge. She palmed him, running her hand against the length of him. “I need you inside me, Braedon. Please do not wait.” Jerking his breeches open, he shoved them down and teased her slit with his cock head, coating it with her slick cream. “So wet. I’ve missed you.” He looked at her, his gaze hot, intense, his eyes darkening like a storm. “Fuck me, Braedon. Hurry. I need you inside me.” With a hard thrust he buried his shaft deep. She screamed and he gathered her buttocks in his hands, lifting her until her head rested on his shoulder. She held onto him while he lifted her on and off his cock, setting the rhythm, pulling her back and then thrusting her forward until she cried out and climaxed. “Yes, faerie. Come on my cock. Let me feel your hot cunt gripping me,” he demanded, urging her ever upward into a tight spiral of need again. He walked to the bed and deposited her on her back, not once ceasing his powerful thrusts in and out of her pussy. He held her legs up and pumped relentlessly, taking her close to the edge again. “I love you, Trista. You are mine and always will be. Never again doubt that you belong here, with me, by my side. Tonight you will sleep in my bed, by my side, where you will remain for the rest of our lives.” He bent down and gathered her close, grinding his pelvis against hers, took her mouth in a kiss that was both tender and filled with the fires of passion. Relentless, he stroked her, at times tender, at times violently passionate. Oh how she had missed his touch, this melding of their spirits. The look on his face as he took her shattered her soul. The naked, raw emotion she saw there, the glittering of emotion as he moved against her, was her undoing. “Come for me, faerie,” he said again, this time pumping hard against her, coaxing her into another blinding orgasm as intense as the first that left her shaking and mindless with pleasure. He shuddered, groaned and came inside her, taking her with him in a wild storm that left her breathless and shaking. When it was over, he pulled her next to him and wrapped his arms around her. She had never felt more secure or more loved. “I thought you were going to let me go.” He tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled her head back so she looked at his face. “You are mine, Trista. From the first moment I entered you, you were mine. You will always be mine and what is mine, I


keep. You had my heart from that moment, though even I did not realize it then.” “I did not know that.” He laughed. “Neither did I. My heart was hard as my head, I’m afraid. Thank you for softening both with your love.” He picked up her hand and kissed her fingers. Her heart leaped at the tender gesture. “Besides, you could be carrying my child. You think I would release you from our betrothal, knowing that my child could be growing within you?” “‘Tis been done before.” “You think I would do that?” “I am sorry, Braedon. You would never dishonor me like that. I do not know what I was thinking. Sometimes I do not think at all.” She laid her head on his shoulder, feeling guilty that she would ever assume he would treat her in such a manner. “It is no wonder you think what you do of me. I do not blame you for imagining the worst. I did not give you reason to think I would honor any oath or that I would treat you fairly. I will spend a lifetime making it up to you.” Tears pooled and she fought them back with a smile. “‘Tis not just you who are foolish at times. I too act before I think and make stupid mistakes, Braedon.” He rubbed her back. “Aye. ‘Tis true you are a bit high-spirited, Trista. You will need to learn your place.” She smiled and looked up at him again, knowing this time he was teasing. “Is that so.” He grinned. “Aye. I fear there might be…discipline in your future.” “I see. I will have to learn to tolerate such…discipline, then.” “However,” he continued, “you will also have to teach me about these amazing powers of love that you seem to possess, for I have failed in the past in recognizing their strength. And for that I am sorry.” This time the tears pooled and fell as her heart filled with the enormity of her feelings for him. ‘Twas not every man who could admit his mistakes, or even admit his feelings. “I love you, Braedon, King of Greenbriar.” “I love you too, Trista. Your love is what gave me the strength to fight the wizards. I have never witnessed such courage as I saw from you that night. You were willing to give up your life for Donny. I know many men who are not as courageous as you.” Pride swelled within her. “Thank you.” She kissed him, pouring her love and magic into his heart, hoping he could feel it, could sense it. From the way his eyes glittered like sapphires, it seemed he did. “I cannot promise to always behave,” she said, reaching down to grasp his cock, “but I will never let your life become dull and routine.”


His cock lurched to life under her hand and he winked. “I can tolerate a little misbehaving now and then, my faerie.”

About the Author

In April 2003, Ellora’s Cave foolishly offered me a contract for my first erotic romance and I haven’t shut up since. My writing is an addiction for which there is no cure, a disease in which strange characters live in my mind, all clamoring for their own story. I try to let them out one by one, as mixing snarling werewolves with a bondage and discipline master can be very dangerous territory. Then again, unusual plotlines offer relief from the demons plaguing me. In my world, well-endowed, naked cabana boys do the vacuuming and dishes, little faeries flit about dusting the furniture and doing laundry, Wolfgang Puck fixes my dinner and I spend every night engaged in wild sexual abandon with a hunky alpha. Okay, the hunky alpha part is my real life husband and he keeps my fantasy life enriched with extensive “research”. But Wolfgang won’t answer my calls, the faeries are on strike and my readers keep running off with the cabana boys.

Jaci welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave Publishing at 1056 Home Avenue, Akron, OH 44310-3502. Also by Jaci Burton

A Storm For All Seasons 1: Summer Heat A Storm For All Seasons 3: Winter Ice A Storm For All Seasons 4: Spring Rain Animal Instincts Bite Me Chains of Love: Bound to Trust Devlin Dynasty 1: Running Mate Devlin Dynasty 2: Fall Fury [Note: This book features a character from the A Storm For All Seasons series, and therefore is also the second story in that series.] Devlin Dynasty 3: Mountain Moonlight Dream On


Ellora’s Cavemen: Legendary Tails IIanthology Holiday Bound Kismet: Fiery Fate Kismet: Winterland Destiny League of 7 Seas: Dolphin’s Playground Lycan’s Surrender Magnolia Summer Mesmerizedanthology Midnight Velvet Out of the Darkness (with C.J. Burton) Passion In Paradise 1: Paradise Awakening Passion In Paradise 2: Paradise Revival Passion In Paradise 3: Paradise Discovery Tangled Web (with C.J. Burton)

Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.

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