Omens In Ashes

It wasn’t even quite dawn and yet she was awake. It had been a long flight back from the temporary camp on the border between Mayce and Endor, and although she was exhausted, Elyna found herself staring at the ceiling. Her eyes were scratchy, as though she’d been rubbing sand into them. She coughed and rolled over but her shoulder hurt. Her back ached after the long journey and her sleeping pattern had been disrupted by her days in the wilderness. Coughing into her arm, the woman sat up. It only took a step to cross the small room that she had been assigned. She stared down at the pitcher of frozen water and sighed.

Beyond the window she could hear the faint whisper of a dawn chorus, not that many birds stuck around in Frost. Elyna hesitated as she stood, before coughing again. There was movement from the room next door and the Skyrider hurried to dress, determined not to disturb her Wingmates. If they had managed to fall asleep, then she wasn’t going to wake them.

With her woollen hat pulled over her head and scarf wrapped around her neck, she made her way through the barracks in the dark, feeling her way with her hands outstretched the walls on either side. On the ground floor was a small kitchen area. It was warmer and the tickle in her chest eased. The fire was lit, gently crackling against the wall. Someone had already hung up a cauldron of water which steamed. The room had a few chairs and two small tables, a cupboard on one side housed utensils and a few jars of dried tea. Watching through the window, she stirred tealeaves in boiling water and added honey for sweetness. She would have liked milk, but that too was frozen in the pitcher. A few sips and the cough subsided. The tightness lifted from her chest and she stared at the gently falling snow. This window looked out the back of the Barracks, towards the wilder land of Mayce and the fields that she assumed were under the snow. Above the mountains, the sky had started to grey.

It was a small party, moving along the edge of the village that caught her attention. She frowned, trying to pick out the shadows and shapes. The movements of one man seemed familiar. Malcolm? She wondered with a smile, before the expression was wiped from her face. Yvan. Hunched over, the tall Captain was barely recognisable as he shuffled along with a party of three guards behind him. Elyna set her mug down and slipped out of the barracks door.

Why was she doing this? Because she needed to know, she needed to know if it were true. Her insides twisted and she shivered, though not only from the cold. The small woman was able to slip along behind the party as they moved away from the Keep to a small woodland. She tracked them through the trees until they reached an area that was better sheltered from the snow and easier to walk on. The tall evergreens however, would mask the area from the rest of the village. Crouched beneath the heavy firs, Elyna watched as Yvan was released from heavy chain, like a dog let off its leash. Though his hands and feet were still bound with shackles that clanked as he moved. She felt sick. His hair and beard were unkempt, wild and longer than she’d ever seen them.

He moved forward from his guards with a backwards look, but the men remained at the treeline. Confident that their prisoner could not escape. Where would he go? A few hours in the snow and he would perish from exposure.

Yvan circled the meadow, eyes fixed on the ground ahead as he trudged. But he knew she was there. On his second circuit around, the man came to a pause nearer the treeline. Elyna stood up, still pressed close to the tree as she met his gaze. They stared at each other, silent.

When had she last spoken to him? Blaze? The Butcher had tried to see her in Harvest but Elyna hadn’t been able to admit her guilt. She’d hidden from Yvan. He’d been hammering his fist against her door, calling for her. He’d been desperate, angry and drunk and she had hidden rather than face the man again and deny him anymore.

‘You’re not here to save me?’ He broke the silence. His blue eyes as hard as the thick Frost ice that covered the ponds and pools.

Elyna swallowed and shook her head. She had sworn to serve justice, he knew that. He knew her better than anyone.

Yvan scoffed and looked away. The chain that bound his manacles clanked. He looked thin, the features of his face drawn with worry. The circles beneath his eyes were dark, he wasn’t sleeping. But then, nor was she.

‘I hear that Lady Burhan is going to marry the Duke of Mayce,’ he sneered.

‘What you doing over there?’ One of the guards shouted across the meadow land. A second already had a short bow drawn and ready to shoot.

‘Can’t a man take a piss?!’ Yvan shouted back. He unfastened his breaches and started to do just that. The acrid smell rising between them as he stained the ground.

Elyna tried not to flinch, but couldn’t help but look away.

‘Not just a rumour then,’ Yvan growled.

She opened her mouth to speak, but found there was nothing to say. Elyna slipped sideways around the tree. Her fingers pressed to the trunk as she peered at the man who had claimed her so thoroughly.

‘That poncy prick will never be enough for you,’ he spat into the snow as he righted his breaches. ‘And you’ll never be man enough for him,’ Yvan laughed then and turned, stamping back across the snow to his guards. ‘I’m freezing my ass off, I’d rather be back at the cells,’ he sneered at the men who were only too happy to oblige.

Hiding behind her tree, Elyna watched him being led away once more. Sap clung to her gloves, making them sticky as she pulled away and made her own way back to the village. Moving through the shadows she returned as the dawn started to pain the mountains gold and pink.

Man enough for Malcolm? She tried to put the thought away, Yvan was just lashing out. What did he know anyway?

Elyna hadn’t been able to shake the unsettled feeling after her strange encounter with Yvan in the woods. His words had followed her. She’d given up her day of rest to train with the other soldiers around the Keep. But keeping busy and even taking her frustration out on one of the practise dummies hadn’t been able to silence the nagging voice.

No summons came from the Keep. What had she been expecting? Malcolm had made it clear that he would be busy with the vote around the Aurora, and after he was leaving for the city. Strange, that she would be left here in his domain and he would be absent. But perhaps that was how their life would be. Perhaps that would be how he wanted things to be between them. Certainly, the man had refused any of her romantic advances. The more she thought about her attempts to kiss him, the more she found herself cringing.

Emily and the other ‘Riders who were resting in Mayce, had gone to the local tavern to spend the night. So alone, Elyna had eaten in the Barracks before setting out at sunset. Would the Aurora appear? She’d heard that high in the mountains the view could be spectacular. It was something she longed to see, so she made the effort to move through the village to a higher point.

It was half-way through the village that she bumped into Owen. Malcolm’s brother was struggling with a number of packages piled high in his arms, but greeted her with a wide smile.

‘Elyna!’ He tried to extend a hand, but one of the paper packages wobbled before it dropped to the ground, rolling across the slush till it landed beside her boot.

It was hard not to smile back at Owen and she bent, collecting the box from the ground. She dusted snow from the bottom and straightened, turning it over in her hands. It wasn’t heavy, but was an awkward shape as a long rectangle. Owens arms were still full and she laughed.

‘Maybe I’ll carry this one for you?’ She offered and tucked it beneath her arm.

Owen offered a gallant bow and another package fell forward. This time, she managed to catch it before it hit the snow. Laughing, Elyna wrapped her arms around the parcels.

‘Thank you,’ Owen grinned and gestured for her to follow. ‘Will you bring them into the Keep?’

‘Of course,’ she agreed. She’d worked well with Owen for the best part of the year. The man was easy to like, and easy to get to know. They walked in comfortable silence and she found herself looking across at Malcolms’ younger brother.

‘Has Malcolm…’ she bit her bottom lip.

‘Oh!’ Owen looked across at her, ‘you’ll have to join us for the Aurora.’

‘Uh…’

‘It’s where you were heading, right? To get a better view?’

‘Yes,’ she couldn’t lie to Owen.

‘Well, you’ll have the best view with us,’ he encouraged, ‘there will be warm spiced wine. I won’t hear no as an answer.’ He nudged her with his shoulder as they walked.

Elyna offered a faint smile. How could she refuse? ‘Has Malcolm…have you ever seen him with…anyone?’ She asked softly as they moved within the shadow of the Keep and started to climb the wide stone steps.

Owen laughed, ‘never. Not so much as a kiss. He won’t even-’ he glanced at her again, pausing to lower his voice even further. He leant in, conspiratorially and Elyna realised that she could smell spirits on his breath. Perhaps a reason for his exhuberance.

‘He doesn’t even come with us to the local brothels,’ Owen winked.

‘Brothels?’ Elyna squeaked. The packages in her arms felt heavier.

‘Where do you think we went on his birthday?’ Owen chuckled and pushed open the wide wooden door, leading the way into the hall. The packages were set down on a side table before he turned to claim the extra’s from Elyna’s arms.

‘So, shall we join the party?’ He offered his hand to the woman.

‘You said I couldn’t say no,’ she replied and looked up at him. Her hair was braided neatly and hung over her shoulder. She unfastened her heavy jacket and looked down at the forest green tunic and dark leggings that she wore. At least her clothes were clean. Even if the snow had settled on her hair.

‘This way!’ Owen led her into the Keep, keeping a gentle grip on her fingers as they went.

Earlier that afternoon, the King’s carriage, drawn by four of the most beautiful horses Malcolm had ever seen, came through the boundary gate and arched towards the keep, bypassing the small village. A company of twelve royal guards on horseback followed the carriage, more than the stables would house given they were almost at capacity with the Duke’s current guests. Malcolm raced down the steps like a dark shroud, ready to greet the king, closely shadowed by his two sons and the remaining nobles.

The groundskeepers had done their best to shovel a foot of snow from the courtyards that morning. A thin layer of gravel and sand had been brushed over the cobblestones to make them easier to walk on. Atler was helped down from the carriage and greeted his grandsons with a regal bow of his head. He embraced the forearms of his son in law and looked the man in the eye as he greeted him.

“Malcolm, it’s wonderful to see you, my son.”

“Welcome, my king,” Malcolm replied. “Please, come inside out of the weather.”

The carriage rocked as a thickset man stepped down from the back, followed by a thin, wisp of a woman.

“Malcolm, you remember Hector and Lily Andaris.”

“Indeed I do, your majesty.”

Hector took the Duke by his arm brace and greeted him with a firm hand. “A pleasure, your grace,” he said.

Lily offered a mere smile as Malcolm pecked the back of a gloved hand. “Our daughter, Penelope,” Lily announced.

Malcolm straightened as a fair young woman with dark hair and hazel coloured eyes stepped out of the carriage. Her smile was bright and warm, summoning the same from all who were graced by her charm. A superpower, Malcolm thought, much similar to his younger brother’s.

“Lady Andaris,” Malcolm greeted her. “Welcome to Mayce.”

“Thank you, your grace,” she replied. Her tone, shy and reserved, did not match her smile.

“My sons,” Malcolm said, introducing the boys one at a time. “And my brothers, Benjamin and Owen.”

His new guests exchanged pleasantries before Malcolm once again suggested they head inside out of the falling snow. The party made their way into the keep as the carriage was parked up and the horses were led to the stables.

“Do you intend to stay long, your majesty?” Jared asked, having introduced himself to everyone else prior to them entering the main hall.

“I am never here long,” he answered.

“I’ll be escorting the King back to the capital in two days,” Malcolm explained, “along with the prisoner and my sons.”

“Then I will be honoured to join you on the road,” Jared offered.

Malcolm smiled. “I can think of no better company.”

Owen ordered for refreshments to be served as Atler pulled Malcolm aside. “Can we speak in private?” He asked.

Malcolm gestured towards the library and the King led the way. The pair were gone some time, but didn’t seem to be missed by the group, who were well entertained between Benjamin and Malcolm’s younger brother, Owen.

“How is the prisoner?” Atler asked.

“Well,” Malcolm assured him. “Fed and comfortable. He even gets exercised daily on the grounds.”

Atler scoffed, “more than he deserves.”

“Yes, my King,” Malcolm agreed, knowing better than to challenge the man.

“What do you think of Penelope?” He asked then, a question that seemed rather out of the blue to Malcolm.

He sat with his mouth ajar and little to offer up. Sense came to him all of the sudden and he responded, “she seems charming.”

“And well off,” Atler told him. “Her father has promised me five thousand men for my army if I can find her a suitable husband.”

Malcolm remained quiet for a spell. “Your majesty?”

“Yes, Malcolm… I was hoping—then perhaps my raven didn’t find you?”

“If it did my men must have missed the message.”

“A shame,” Atler said, “it was not my intention to surprise you.”

“I couldn’t accept,” Malcolm said.

“Whatever do you mean, my son?”

Malcolm hesitated, should he tell the king of his engagement to the Burhan girl? “I’m recently engaged,” he said. His stomach was in his throat, not sure how the King would take the news. It certainly wasn’t how he had planned for the man to find out.

“Nonsense,” Atler challenged. When he realised Malcolm was serious, his brow knitted as he asked, “to who?”

“Elyna Burhan.”

“I can’t say I recognise the name, who is her father?”

“Pavoo Burhan, the oldest son of the Duke, your majesty.”

“Why?” Atler challenged, “do you love the girl?”

“I barely know her,” Malcolm admitted. “Her mother suggested her first for my son.”

“Marcus?” Atler asked.

Malcolm nodded.

The King grumbled where he sat. “Preposterous. How old is the girl?”

“She must be almost twice his age,” Malcolm guessed.

“And you did not think her a suitable candidate for what reason?”

Again the truth weighed heavy on the man. It seemed impossible to lie to the King, but the young woman’s honour was at stake. “I should have notified you first,” Malcolm admitted. “I can think of no reason why she should not have been engaged to my son, other than her age, your majesty.”

“Then you’ll write to her father and tell her the engagement is off,” Atler commanded.

“I…”

“And that I would like to visit the Burhans in person come Bloom and meet their daughter, Elyna, to determine whether or not she will be a match for my grandson.”

“Your majesty.”

“You’ll not deny me this, will you, Malcolm? I know I have asked a lot of you over the years, but an alliance with Andaris is paramount. Five thousand men,” he said.

“No… never, my King.”

“Good. Once we return to the city the Burhans will have received your letter, which I must insist you pen tonight. Then, we will announce your engagement to Lady Andaris and, come Blaze, Hector will have to make good on his promise.”

“It is my honour to serve you,” Malcolm said. He thought of Elyna and his heart sunk.


When Owen joined them on the balcony later that night, Malcolm was surprised to see he had been accompanied by Lady Burhan. Jared stood beside the man with his elbow on the Duke’s shoulder, retelling some crazy story of a civil battle they had been a part of in their youth. Malcolm smiled at his guests, excused himself, and crossed the balcony to meet Elyna near the entrance.

His heart was pounding and when he spoke he sounded breathless. “Elyna,” he said. We weren’t expecting to see you, a nervous smile seemed to suggest. “Can I talk to you?”

“Reyes!” Benjamin called, in the kind of voice that told he had already had one too many to drink. “Come join us!”

“Not a chance!” Owen replied, “she’s my guest, I’ll be picking where we sit tonight.”

He fetched a drink for the woman and elbowed his brother on the way by him. “Malcolm, where are the boys?”

“To bed,” Malcolm said, “it’s far too late for them to be up.”

“Poppycock,” Owen said. “One night won’t hurt!”

“Owen could I—.”

“I know what you’re going to ask!” Owen said, “and no, you can’t. It’s my turn. Go talk someone else’s ear off.”

Malcolm blinked and gave Elyna an exhausted look before retreating to his prior company of Benjamin and Jared.

The King was nowhere to be seen, nor were the baron and baroness of Andaris. Their daughter, Penelope, sat beside Anna, listened intently to Jared’s story. She was a striking young woman, a little older than Elyna perhaps, but not as blessed with the Burhan woman’s generous curves.

“Oh, you have to meet Lady Andaris,” Owen whispered, “she’s visiting from the capital with her parents and the King. Would you like me to introduce you?”

Elyna was surprised, but pleased to see the Duke approach as Owen led her onto the balcony. The worries that Yvan had set in motion fading the moment she laid eyes on the man. She couldn’t help but smile at him, the expression encompassing her features in its warmth. Eager to accept his offer to talk, she was interrupted by Owen before she could say so much as; ‘Good Evening.’

Forced to hold her tongue the woman looked down to hide her smile, before risking a glance at her betrothed. He looked nervous, or perhaps that was just how he felt when they were thrown together like this. It was how she felt, as though there wasn’t enough air in the world to fill her lungs. As though she just wanted the world to stop for a few precious moments. Still, maybe that wasn’t it at all. What if he was simply concerned that she had uncovered his secret. He had certainly been close to Warrick when they had arrived.

Elyna waved a greeting at Benjamin before catching the drink that was thrust into her hands. Only a little of the warm spiced wine spilling onto her palm. She made her silent apologies to the Duke, and was dragged away.

Owen offered to introduce her to Lady Andaris and Elyna couldn’t think of anything more frightening. Well, maybe meeting the King who seemed thankfully absent. Though, learning that Atler Krome was in the castle, made her heart skip beats with unease. She had never met the man, but feared the power he held over her life, over all of their lives.

With no way to refuse Owen, Elyna was guided to sit with the two women. She curtsied to them both before taking her seat.

‘You’re a Skyrider?’ Penelope seemed a little confused that Owen would bring a soldier to the gathering.

Owen laughed and finished his drink, ‘well, I like to believe that there’s a little Lady beneath the Rider,’ he teased, despite the look that Elyna shot him.

‘Yes, my Lady,’ Elyna nodded with a smile. She sipped her own drink, wrapping her fingers around the mug for warmth.

‘Oh…well you must have a lot of exciting adventures to share?’ Penelope prompted.

Elyna swallowed the hot drink, feeling it burn the back of her throat. ‘I’m very new,’ she admitted, ‘probably nothing more exciting than Lord Owen could tell you.’ She looked to Owen who merely grinned.

Penelope smiled softly, ‘perhaps, but I would love to hear a story from your perspective, a woman in the skies?’

The Lady wasn’t giving up and Elyna wracked her brains for a suitable tale. Finally, she recounted the story of how she had escorted a Noble Woman across the desert of Nejem, and the strange encounters they had faced amongst the sand dunes.’ Anna had moved away, but Penelope sat entranced as she listened.

‘I was grateful to return to the city,’ Elyna finished with a smile.

‘And we were glad you returned in one piece!’ Owen finished, ‘now, Lady Andaris, how do you feel about wine?’

Penelope turned to Owen and Elyna excused herself from the small group. Somewhere during the telling of her story, she had finished her drink and so moved to refill the mug. Finally, hearing Owen and Penelope giggling quietly in the corner she found herself able to scan the balcony. In a rare moment, the Duke was alone and she approached the man as he stood with his hands on the railings.

Elyna reached out, touching her hand gently to the centre of of his back before moving to his side. Her fingers curled around his forearm and she looked up at the Wolf, certain that she had caught his attention. The sky was cloudless, perfect for spotting the Aurora. Her breath turned to fine mist with every exhale.

‘You wanted to speak?’ She suggested softly. ‘I’m sorry it has taken me so long to get away,’ Elyna offered a rueful smile. She wanted to bemoan his lack of invitation. Surely he knew how difficult it was for her to meet with him, with her Captain strictly forbidding it. Still, open and honest they had promised. Somethings were more important than her bruised ego.

Elyna glanced behind at the merry party and found the tension leaving her shoulders. Where was Jared? Did it matter? She’d learnt that the man’s wife had already returned home.

‘Mal,’ Elyna looked up at him again, searching his expression. ‘I know you wanted to speak but I just...there’s something I wanted to say first,’ she kept her voice low and leant toward him. ‘I...if I’m honest with myself, I have admired you for some time,’ her cheeks burnt in the dark. ‘And even if you never feel the same way about me, then I hope that maybe you could learn to love me, even if you never fall in love with me.’

The rail was cold, even through the leather of his gloves, but the man seemed to invite it, drinking it in through outstretched fingers in an attempt to chase some of the heat from his bones. Elyna was right to think him nervous, though he didn’t often suffer such fits of nervousness in his experience, now was one of the few times it really seemed to embed itself in the pit of the man’s stomach.

Elyna touched his back and the muscle directly beneath her fingers flinched, like that of a horse, only this could scarcely be felt through the layers of tanned hide that covered the expanse of his upper body. He turned to the woman as she addressed him, taking her hand in his own. The move was innocent enough, but making eye contact with the woman always resulted in his pulse quickening just a little, enough that he could almost hear it thudding in his ear, or so his imagination let him believe.

Love her, she suggested, and the man almost laughed at his own ridiculousness. How could he have convinced himself so readily that the woman still had her heart set on the Captain when she was suggesting such things as to love her? The Duke seemed to choke on a smile. Did his eyes look brighter under moonlight? Was it colder outside all of the sudden?

“Please,” he said, and turned side on to gesture to the door she had come through at the start of the evening.

Malcolm followed Elyna onto the landing at the top of the stairwell before leading her to the closest door, which just so happened to take them into his room. The space was adequate, neat but held a slight musk, his discarded training clothes left in heap on the cream coloured ottermen. The fireplace adjacent the door, burned low and Malcolm moved to feed it. The room was simple, boasting very few treasures outside of the hand painted oil portraits on the wall. There was another smell that fought the invasion of his own, of dry sage and cold burning oils, wood-ash, and dusty furs.

“Pardon my boldness,” he said, begging the woman’s forgiveness for being so inappropriate as to invite her into his quarters without warning or an escort. “I had to speak with you alone. The King arrived today in the company of Hector and Lily Andaris. He took me aside to ask something of me, something I found difficult to refuse him, though you must believe I tried.”

Malcolm stole a breath. “He denied our engagement in favour of your mother’s proposed match, and wants to meet your family come Bloom to determine whether or not you will be fit for the position of queen one day, as your mother first suggested. I was wrong to keep her offer from him. I am quite sure he will be disappointed I did the moment he lays eyes on you.”

A pang of guilt twisted in his belly for not fighting harder for Elyna, but Atler Krome remained the last person in the world Malcolm wanted to confess his love to. “I feel all kinds of shame,” he admitted, “having confessed my excitement regarding our engagement to my dearest friend… and preparing a dinner for tomorrow night where I planned to announce it to the rest of my family and friends, including the King himself. I dare say I can recover from letting the excitement get the better of me where Jared is concerned, but it might have been harder to take back from the boys, and my brother Owen especially, for he has made his fondness for you most clear.”

For a moment, she wondered if he was about to smile in answer to her suggestions. To put aside her final concerns and perhaps, maybe indulge in a moment of passion. Would it be so wrong? They were going to be married after all. Instead, he led her away and no matter what response Elyna had thought he might give, this was not it.

Confused, but silent she followed where directed before turning in his room, surprised to find herself there. But Malcoms room it was, even if nothing in particular seemed to mark it as his, it smelt of the man. Of the musk she had grown so very familiar with. Her heart beat a painful tune of anticipation turned to nerves within her chest. She swallowed, lingering near the door and taking care to look around. All of this domain was his, and yet...somehow it didn’t feel as though the room had been made his home.

Elyna looked up as he started to speak and the colour slowly drained from her features and left her silent and still with shock. Horror painted her expression as she was left staring. This couldn’t be true. This couldn’t be happening. Even Yvan hadn’t been so cruel as to give her hope.

The king had denied their engagement. The words hit like a horse kick to her chest. It was only from a distance that she heard his continuation. The King wished to know if she were a suitable match. No, she didn’t know if she said the word, hissed it or merely thought it. The rest of Malcolm’s pretty speech was lost as she reeled from the shock.

He felt shame. Shame that he had told a friend who would now be...updated. ‘But I want to marry you,’ it was a quiet plea as she searched his expression before turning around just as suddenly and set her back to the man. He felt shame for his over excitement and her whole world had fallen apart.

The King would decide. Tears burnt her eyes and she looked at the ceiling. Pieces falling into place. Why had Lady Andaris been bought on a trek up the mountains with her parents? What had Malcolm been unable to refuse. She sucked a breath through her teeth and closed her eyes. A more favourable match for the man, clearly.

‘Why am I here?’ She lifted an arm and waved it vaguely at his room as she turned to look over her shoulder. ‘Why did you bring me here to tell me? Was it so you could see the expression on my face?’ She retreated from him, ‘you could have sent me a letter,’ she accused, ‘you could have gone away with the rest of them and I’d never have to see you again!’ She shook her head. Why had he brought her to his rooms. Any pretence of chivalry and proprietary had obviously died along with their brief engagement.

‘Go be with your Lady Andaris,’ she drew a shaky breath, ‘she’s travelled a long way to meet you. I’m not an idiot Malcolm.’

Just as Malcolm thought himself confident enough to answer the woman, she slapped him with an accusation that left him feeling like a fish out of water. Did he stand with his mouth agape? He blinked, at a complete loss for words. Elyna had a way of doing that, just as she did with the smile she sometimes gave him, with nothing but her eyes. Did she think him so malicious? Would she have really preferred a letter? Had he been so careless? A kind coward, perhaps that was the image she had painted for herself of the man.

“A letter,” he mouthed, casting his gaze at the far wall. Malcolm was reminded that the King expected him to write a letter to Elyna’s parents tonight.

“I would not insult you with a letter,” he said, adamant. “You mean far more to me than that.”

He thought to go on, but had realised with her swift retort that he did not have her favour. That this change of plans was an inconvenience for Elyna Burhan, who more than anything, wished to live her life as Elyna Reyes. She had been a trapped bird he had shown the window to, only to slam it shut as she had turned to take it, to make her escape. What a mess, he thought to himself.

Why had he brought her here, the woman had asked, her words haunting him. Why did it sound like an accusation? Why did he feel so guilty all of the sudden, as if he had only just realised what she must think of him. That guilt only seemed double as there came a knock at the door. Before he could give reply, the handle turned and the door opened enough to allow Owen’s lean frame to squeeze through. The man started at the sight of Elyna and Malcolm stood a few feet apart on either side of the room. He looked between the pair to make sure he had not walked in on anything not intended for his eyes, before closing the door.

“Am I interpreting?” Owen said. “I beg your pardon, brother… but the aurora has started.”

As Elyna moved to depart, Owen stopped her, hands raised to take hold of her upper arms. Was she upset? “Reyes?”

“Let her by, Owen!” Malcolm commanded.

Owen, not one to disobey authority, even his brothers, stepped aside, releasing the woman. “My apologies,” he whispered.

The door closed behind the woman and Owen gave his older brother a confused look.

“Please don’t look at me like that,” Malcolm said.

“Why… What were the two of you doing here?”

“Talking,” Malcolm confirmed, “just talking.”

Owen smiled, though he was not his usual bright self. “I’m sorry, brother, you must know I’m only teasing… unless—.”

“Owen!” Malcolm snapped.

Owen laughed. “Oh stop! You can’t blame me. No one has seen you so much as innocently brush a woman’s arm let alone stand in your room with one since Vaughn was born. You’ll forgive me for teasing you.”

“I fear I will not,” Malcolm countered.

Owen closed the distance between them. He reached for his brother, closing his hands over the man’s shoulders. “Brother, what’s wrong?”

“I am mortified,” he said, “by action and word, and I have none but myself to blame.”

“You…” Owen gasped, “did you kiss her?”

“No!” Malcolm pulled away and turned, one arm folded across his chest to support the elbow of the arm he had reached for his jaw with. “...but I might have liked to, still it can never be so.”

“Jared said…”

“Please don’t tell me what Jared did say,” Malcolm pleaded, “or I am twice shocked by the loyalty of those I hold most dear.”

“Then it isn’t so and I shall never call her sister?” Owen asked.

Malcolm turned to look at him. “Undone I regret to say.”

“By what, your hand?”

“By the King’s will,” Malcolm said.

“And what, dare I ask, does the King will?” Owen said.

“That I marry Penelope Andaris, to ensure the King has the men and loyalty of the Andaris region at his beck and call.”

“The King overreaches,” Owen accused.

Malcolm silenced him with a look, after all, anyone could be watching or listening. “The King is the King—.”

“Is the King,” Owen echoed, “and we his humble servants.”

Malcolm frowned.

“Oh brother, mine. You are all of your misery once more,” Owen said.

“Do not miss the aurora on my account,” Malcolm replied.

“Won’t you join us then?”

“Pass on my regards to our guests.”

“Of course,” Owen agreed.

He went to the door and turned back to look at his brother Malcolm once more, who stood staring into the flames of the fireplace as they made easy work of the dry wood he had added moments prior. “Goodnight, Malcolm.”

“Fare thee well as I fare.”

“Then I fear you wish me ill, dear brother, for the aching of your heart, I do not wish to share.”

“This I will endure, as I have endured,” Malcolm replied.

“Of that I have no doubt,” Owen said. “See you come the dawn.”

“Until then.”

Owen closed the door. He had to find Elyna.

The tears she had been so afraid of, lined her eyes as she stood in the stretch of silence. She meant something to him? The woman rubbed her hand roughly across her face. How could that be true? If she meant anything to him, then how could this be happening?

Her despair had erupted in anger, a result of a quick temper that so often she believed she had learned to curb and silence. Her anger had needed a target and Malcolm had been there. With a little time perhaps she would have realised that her frustration lay with her Mother, with the King and all of the things beyond her control. But there was as much point being angry with the King as there was being angry with the Sea.

Owen interrupted and she took her opportunity to find her way out of the door, unable to look at either man as she ducked away and hurried back down the corridor. It was Ben who caught her arm.

‘Reyes!’ His voice was a boom as he pulled her into a friendly hug. ‘I’ve lost Owen! It’s started, you’ve got to come and see.’

Benjamin had shared more drink than his brothers or was just oblivious to redness around her eyes.

‘I was just leaving,’ she tried to free herself from the man’s grip but he wrapped his arm around her. ‘Nonsense!’ He laughed and pulled her back to the balcony.

The small group seemed like far too much of a crowd, but held tight to Ben’s side Elyna couldn’t escape without causing a fuss. The air was colder at least, something she found comforting when the world was spinning out of control.

It was Anna who rescued her indirectly. The blonde approached and took a possessive hold of the man’s hand and pulled him towards the main crowd, with a pointed look Elyna to stay put, away from Benjamin. Something Elyna was only too happy to oblige.

Her bare hands closed against the frozen rail, the ice biting against the flesh of her palms. She stared at the aurora, silent. Was this grief? She felt as though someone had died. All the weight that had so recently lifted from her shoulders fell heavier. She was no longer accustomed to it’s burden. Green and blue lights danced before her, she wondered if they were beautiful. Or maybe they were just lights.

Owen appeared beside her. He curled his hands over her own to warm them and free them from the railing.

‘Elyna, I’m so sorry,’ he murmured above her ear.

She closed her eyes and shivered. If he was going to be kind then she was going to break.

‘There has to be something?’ He suggested hopefully.

Elyna shook her head, her hands free she wrapped her arms around her chest. ‘I’m sure this will suit him nicely.’ She tried to be polite. ‘It’s a better match.’

It was Owen who shook his head then, stepping between the woman and the rest of the small party. ‘He looks at you…’ The man frowned, the expression not at ease in his features before he smiled. ‘Like a starving man looks at a banquet.’

Elyna shot the man a look then. ‘There is nothing I can do.’

‘Just don’t give up hope,’ Owen rocked back from the railings, his gaze on the stars.

‘I can’t...I can’t watch him marry someone else…’ she breathed.

‘Just… don’t give up…’ Owen forced a smile though it was clear he was as powerless to find a solution.

‘Goodnight, Owen.’ Elyna touched her hand to the man’s arm before making her departure once more. Confident that she had stayed long enough that none would think anything of her leaving.

There were no guards in the corridor. The Keep was silent except for the buzz of excitement from the terrace. The door to his room remained unlocked.

Elyna slipped through the smallest opening and lent against the door to close it behind her. The room was almost dark. She swallowed. ‘I mean something to you?’ She asked quietly.

A bead of black ink fell away from the edge of the inkwell. Malcolm brushed the quill along the side to remove any excess ink before it was touched to the page. He was seated on the bed against a wall of pillows, with a book on his lap that doubled as a makeshift table for the piece of parchment he held against it. The letter was addressed to the Baron of Burhan, Elyna’s father.

To the Baron of Burhan.

I hope this letter finds you in good health, my lord. It seems you left Mayce right on time. The region has seen nothing but snow since your departure.

Lord Burhan, I write to you on the eve of the aurora with the regret that I must inform you I cannot honour the engagement to your daughter, Elyna.

Malcolm set the book and letter aside on the nightstand, disappointed that the words in his head did not flow out onto the page with their usual ease. What he wanted to say and what he had to say waged war in his mind. He paced the room for a time until choosing to call it a night. The letter could be reworked in the morning and tidied up then.

Malcolm had removed his tabard and was pulling off his tunic when Elyna entered the room. The green and blue lights of the aurora danced beyond the window, the fire burned low enough that it imitated little more than a shallow, orange glow from the corner. A single candle shed just enough light at his bedside to light the way.

The man looked up from his discarded garments to find the voice he had heard cut through the darkness belonged to none other than the woman who had occupied his mind since her departure.

“Elyna?” He said, stopped as his own words were played back to him in her soft tone of voice.

He wanted to tell her yes, after all that was the truth and the truth was so easy, even if a little clouded by duty. What was it he had told Owen? The man closed the space between them in a few short steps. Why had he brought her to his room? Why had she returned? Malcolm’s hand found the door as his lips were pressed to Elyna’s mouth. The door clicked shut a split second before her body met the wooden divide with a light thump, driven back under his weight.

There was a pause when the light through the window lit upon the man’s bare skin. It seemed to shimmer with the effect of the Aurora beyond. There was only the soft crackle of the last burning log and the sound of her own heart thumping hard against her chest. She half expected some cruel response, a denial. Her breath had long since caught in her throat as she readied, stealing herself against worst. He was so tall and lithe and handsome. How long had she felt like this? If she could admit it to herself, since the moment she had met the man in the stable the previous year. There was something about him that had seen her pulled towards him, like a moth to flame. She had loved Yvan. Perhaps some part of her always would love the man who had stolen so much of her innocence. But everything she felt towards Malcolm was different and far more potent.

Still, she expected cruelty and was caught off guard by the sudden click of the door beside her. His body pressed to hers and his lips grazed against her mouth. The scent of him was overwhelming and she didn’t know herself as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer still. He was kissing her? Was this happening? Was it actually real? It was only the hurried thud of her heart, painful in her chest that let her believe it was so.

Elyna indulged the man’s kiss, reluctant to let him depart. She had wanted this for so long, she knew that she could not refuse him. With eyes closed she marvelled at the softness of his hair against the back of his neck. Her hands moved tentatively, one dropping across the bare skin of his chest to feel the thundering heart beneath burning skin. Thumping in a frantic rhythm that only echoed her own heartbeat.

‘Mal…’ she breathed his name. The hand left around his neck smoothing across his broad shoulders before she pressed against him. This wasn’t the kind of thing she usually did. Though she acted boldly, the woman had only ever kissed one man before. Her fingers trembled and breath came uneasy. But if she let him stop, would he ever kiss her again?

The tentative kiss grew in ferocity and demand, like the snowstorm that had battered the region since early frost. His heart drummed a lustful melody against her hand, quick, hard and rhythmic. Malcolm had not expected to lose himself to the kiss, yet lost he was, hands held against the woman’s jaw and cheeks, only to drift back through her hair.

Sense compelled the man to cease, the war of his mind called for him to halt. What good was it to give her hope and extend the same unkindness to himself? It had been unfair of him to fall for the woman, who seasons ago and claimed by another, he had let himself dwell on far too often. Elyna Reyes, not the first woman he had felt lust for in his life, but one perhaps he had thought had been his own to choose. Duty and love rarely mixed well, unless one's duty was to love.

Had he ever taken anything for himself in all his life? The path of a knight had been chosen for him by his family, one that had interrupted with his dreams to become a lecturer at the university. His marriage had not been his own choice, but something the thoughtless actions of another had compelled him to. What, he thought, if he just took this one thing? What if he picked his path for a change? What would a small slice of happiness for himself really take from his boys and the king?

Five thousand men… Mayce scarcely had fifty, and only half that once twenty-five of them were assigned to the mines on Endor. Warrick could barely boast three thousand, but neither them nor Endor had any plans of reinforcing the King’s army with more than they had already given. One thousand men from each territory was the requirement, one Malcolm fell short on. Five thousand men and all Andaris asked was a good match for their eldest daughter, one of title and privilege.

Malcolm broke the kiss. There was too much at stake, more than even he could take from the King and the Kingdom of Renmere. He crossed his arms above them against the door and bowed his head so that their foreheads touched. What are we doing, the shared silence seemed to ask of them both. Malcolm closed his eyes to drink in the taste and scent of her, to restrain himself from indulging another kiss, one he would find all too easy to take after the last.

Would she drown in him? Could she lose herself in that sweetness? Fingers splayed against his chest she marvelled at the rapid drum of his heart. His skin was warm to the touch, almost feverish against hands that had been exposed to the cold for much of the evening. Her gloves abandoned until she could clean the sap from them.

He broke, for air it seemed and she tilted her head back as his arms pressed against the door. Their foreheads met and Elyna realised that he didn’t intend a simple pause. Her chest rose and fell in uneven gasps, as though she’d been running up the mountains that surrounded them. She wet suddenly dry lips and closed her own eyes. Her fingers lingered on his skin before lifting. If only to tug the woollen hat from the back of her head, one that had been dislodged by their passion anyway. She dropped her hat to the floor without looking, then curled her fingers around it’s matching counterpart, a green knitted scarf that had come loose around her neck. She pulled it free and it too, fell with the gentlest noise to the floor beside them.

Where were his thoughts? Hidden behind closed eyes she could only imagine. Duty, honour, proprietary. Her whole life she had tried and made the sacrifices required. Yvan had been her mistake, but once virtue had been given it did not return. She would never be an innocent again and it was impossible to think of Malcolm and believe that kissing him could ever be a mistake.

Elyna drew breath, her own tunic and shirt brushing the man’s skin due to their painful proximity. He had struck a match to kindling and she burnt.

Carefully, tenderly she smoothed her fingers over his features. His stubble tracking across her palms as she moved onto her toes to kiss him anew. ‘Kiss me,’ it was part command, part plea that saw the words whispered in the near darkness. ‘Kiss me...’

Elyna discarded her hat before unwinding the scarf from around her neck to let it fall away. Malcolm didn’t move, couldn’t move, as if in a trance, spellbound by the simple act that said so much more than any words could have. She rose up on her tiptoes, her mouth an inch from his own, and asked him to kiss her.

“Elyna,” he said, voice low, “I can’t do that.”

Malcolm knew that if he kissed the woman, he wouldn’t be able to stop there. He looked into her eyes and found himself staring at her mouth a split second later. Had she mouthed the simple plea again? The request in and of itself seemed innocent enough, but the circumstances in which they found themselves, did not. She was undressing, he had only been half dressed. They were in his room, alone and unaccounted for.

The woman he was expected to marry was only a stone’s throw away… but the one he had wanted to marry stood right before him, begging to be kissed. He wanted nothing more than to obey her command. Malcolm stroked the woman’s right cheek with his thumb before bending to collect her things. He turned the garments over in his hands, nervous perhaps, heavy with regret.

“I don’t know what to tell your father,” he admitted. “No letter has ever filled me with such anguish and dread in all my days.”

Malcolm passed the scarf and hat into Elyna’s care before he spoke again. “Elyna… I want you to know how sorry I am that it is not you I will be marrying… nothing would have brought me more joy.”

He freed a shaky breath. Why had that been so hard to admit? It felt empowering, Malcolm couldn’t help but think, to submit to his own truth for a change.

His rejection, although later than she expected still hurt more than Elyna cared to admit. She closed her eyes once more and he withdrew. She could hear his movements as he collected her belongings.

Why did it have to be him? Did Warrick, Venora, Gawyne, Endor or Burhan not have noble sons? Her own brother was in need of a noble wife. Surely that was what Lady Andaris required. It had been drilled into Elyna by her own mother for so many years that it wasn’t a hard stretch to imagine the request of Penelope’s parents. But why did it have to be Malcolm? Had the King even asked anyone else, or had he known that Malcolm would simply obey.

His soft words broke the quiet and she looked up at him, before her gaze dropped to her hands. Her knitted belongings pressed into her fingers. She held them close, as though afraid to lose them. The wool was soft against her calloused palms and she turned them over, fingers curled in a tight grip.

‘Tell him the truth,’ Elyna replied simply and forced herself to look up at the man. He broke her heart and her gaze shifted to the fading Aurora beyond the window.

Elyna turned enough to find what she was looking for. A small table beside the door where she set down her scarf and hat so they would be easy to collect when she departed.

Her chin was lifted, defiant. The Skyrider had made her own decisions during the course of the evening. She would no longer be their puppet. No longer have her life curtailed.

‘Neither of us are yet married, neither of us an untouched innocent…’ the words caught in her throat as she spoke softly. ‘We only have ourselves to hurt…’ for now at least. Until his vows were made in Blaze. She looked up once more.

‘I would marry you tomorrow, before the King himself so that none could tell us to part. Yet your mind is set, and you will bow to their power.’ Why was this so hard to say? Her voice was low, quiet and sincere as she watched him. Their marriage would have bought him joy. Didn’t he deserve some joy?

‘If only one kiss, one night, one season or two, if that’s all the fates allow me to have of you. I would take it.’

The woman touched a hand to her chest before her fingers dipped beneath the folds of her shirt. She pulled forward a small, golden object no larger than a thumbnail and with a sharp tug pulled it free from her neck, snapping the simple leather cord it hung upon. Elyna closed the distance between them and pressed the necklace into the man’s hand. A single golden feather, warmed from the heat of her body.

‘I am yours,’ she repeated the words that had bought them so much happiness. ‘Till the day you make your promises to another...I am yours,’ tears lined her lashes without falling. Elyna wasn’t going to cry, not in front of the man who held so much power over her.

Had Elyna expected him to lie to her father? His letter up until the point he had set it aside had been nothing but fact. Any more than that would hurt them both. He frowned at the thought of her thinking him capable of anything but the truth. As she went on, Malcolm was both flattered and mortified by her suggestion. Had her relationship with the Captain confused love with possession? Too often people did.

The young Skyrider, however, had a point, they were their own people until the wedding was done. After tomorrow, would he ever see her again, he wondered. Could he live with the sin of inviting her to his bed for just one night? He already knew the answer and had given it to her. They would only be doing a disservice to themselves and the relationship he should have been trying to form with his newly betrothed, out watching the aurora.

He lifted a hand to tame a stray wisp of hair behind the woman’s ear, his gaze fixed on her mouth once more. It was hard to keep a look trained on her eyes for more than a few seconds at a time. Elyna’s eyes were so warm and inviting to gaze upon.

What was in a kiss? He closed his eyes and thought of the first time he had ever seen her, a thought that had haunted him in the best kind of way since that evening. Before he knew it, he was kissing her again, and cursing the hot blood that raced through his veins. All sense had been dissolved by their shared desire and the Duke found his resolve weaker than he had ever imagined it.

When he broke the kiss a second time without word or warning and paced to the door, his mind was made up. Malcolm turned the old key and triggered the lock which rang out in the silence as a single click.

His kiss was a surprise, but really should it have been? She had been pushing him, goading him towards their desire and he bent to it. She still held a hundred arguments upon her lips, of why they should share a love while they could. But her words were silenced by surprise and then passion itself as it ruled.

Her arms were around his neck once more, body pressed for the briefest moment before he withdrew once again. Breathless she turned to watch his movements, wary. Half expecting the man to fling open the door and throw her through it.

The lock clicked.

The lock clicked.

By all that was holy. He had locked the door.

Her gaze narrowed on his hand before lifting up the toned perfection of his bare torso. She forgot to breathe. Elyna swallowed, hard. Nerves tumbled into the pit of her stomach and she stared at the man, eyes wide and dark with wonder. She wet dry lips and felt clumsy in her own skin. Her breath hitched again and she found that she could only stare.

The gap closed between them slowly, as though they danced. She rested trembling fingers upon his chest and lifted herself up once more. The kiss pressed to his mouth was sweet, the touch feather light. It helped most of her sudden shyness to slip away, unwanted into the night. She breathed him in, revealed in the scent of him and pressed herself once more. Indulging his kisses and movements and following his lead.

Malcolm had raised the woman’s offering to tie about his neck, the small golden feather cool against his warm collar, weightless. He drank in the sight of her from a distance that was soon closed. It was Elyna who initiated the next kiss and Malcolm who encouraged a further state of undress, relieving her of the green tunic and the woollen garments that lay beneath. They did not join their counterparts on the table, but were instead lost to the floor.

He lifted her with an ease his youth afforded him and didn’t set her down until they reached the end of the bed. Despite the fire that had burned most of the day and into the night, the furs still felt chilled beneath her as her legs were made bare. Malcolm was all control, taking his time to uncover her from the warmth of her clothes before shedding his own.

He bent as his trousers were lowered to the floor, body sculpted by a lifetime of swordsmanship and riding, hard earned. He anchored a knee against the end of the bed and lifted the woman with his arm, dragging her up against the furs to set her back against the pillows. The scent of him was all the more pungent without the shield of his clothing and Malcolm was reminded that he was due a wash before breakfast the following morning. He would rise early… if he got any sleep at all.

Malcolm bowed to kiss Elyna on the mouth, but didn’t linger long before leaving a burning trail of kisses down the side of her neck. What followed seemed bolder than he had ever dared, yet so easily inspired by the sight of her all those seasons ago. His lips kissed and teeth grazed the arch of the exposed tops of her breasts, bound together by the wrap that held them in place. He had left her undergarments for her to remove if she so chose to, while he himself sat as bare as a newborn babe, dressed only with the courage her gift inspired. He rose to sit back on his knees and devoured her with a look.

Control was readily relinquished, this was something that the woman understood. Her heart beat an increasingly unsteady rhythm in her chest. Skin jumping in all of the places his hands gently grazed warm skin. The kiss had grown insistent and demanding. She clung to the man, legs weak beneath her. The kiss broke and her tunic was eased up, over her shoulders and peeled along her arms. With the stiff lined fabric removed, he made rapid and easy work of her shirt and warmer layers.

She balanced against the man, shivering, though not entirely from the cold. Afraid her legs would give way beneath her, she was relieved when he picked her up. She threaded her hands through his hair, pressing kisses to his features. Her mouth rounding gently against his ear before she was set down.

Her eyes fixed on his flat stomach and she dared not look either higher or lower as he bent to remove his own clothing. As it so often had, her vision narrowed to the man before her. A small squeak escaped as he bent and had he pushed against the pillows. How many times was she going to forget how to breathe? Could she even remember her own name? It was a good job that no one was asking.

His kiss left a trail of heat along her skin, the woman arched, her eyes closed as he moved. Teeth and lips teasing, testing the new found boundaries of their intimacy. A soft moan left parted lips before the man withdrew once more.

Curious she peered at him. Reaching up, she pulled free the fasten that held her hair in its braid. The tie was discarded at the side of the bed and her locks fell free around her shoulders and further. They tumbled in chocolate waves to cover the wrap worn around her chest. Elyna swallowed her nerves once more and met the man’s gaze. He looked as Owen had said, like a starving man faced with a buffet. Her own gaze dipped slowly over his body, lingering on the muscles that shone in then faded light.

‘You’re so beautiful,’ she murmured. Cheeks flushed with passion and embarrassment. He would think she was silly. She needed to distract him. With a slow hand she unfastened the wrap that bound her chest. It, too, was lost to the side of the bed. Her invitation given, she wasn’t surprised when the man returned to her. Her own muscles were toned beneath the softer skin. Her hands wrapped around the man and she twisted, kissing along his neck. Her teeth grazing the delicate skin beneath his ear. Hands smoothed down his back until growing bolder drifted around his hips in curious exploration.

Beautiful. The man had been called many things, but Elyna was the first to call him beautiful. Handsome perhaps, wolffish even, but never beautiful. What did she see when she looked at him, he wondered, something akin to what he saw in her? The thought was dismissed with the swift unveiling of more skin, peaked with soft, pink rose buds. She summoned him with a look and he went like a lamb to slaughter, oblivious and willing.

The brave exploration of a stray hand saw the man suck a breath through his teeth, lips hot on her neck. Had he dared to hope for such a night? Not even in his dreams, nothing was ever promised after all… even a wedding after an engagement that had seemed so sure. Malcolm closed his hand over Elyna’s grip on the girth of his length and drew her hand up to the tip before bringing it back to the base. The gesture, far too intimate, caused his heart to race in defiance of the calm mask of composure he wore. His hand then freed her own to remove the garment which served as a last line of defence, rolling it down off her hips to tug over the length of her long, lean legs.

Now that she had taken measure of him in the dark, he wondered if her invitation remained as open as it had been after sharing their first kiss. He tucked folded legs under her own, certain he should remain in control of the situation, sure that if he let the lady have her way, that he wouldn’t last even a handful of minutes inside of her. His thumb traced the seam between her legs, working back and forth until made slick. He burned to enter her, his tip wet with anticipation.

The close of his hand around her own was both bold and unexpected. Elyna sucked in a sharp breath, realising the strength of his desire. She hadn’t known. How could she not have realised, not have known that he needed her, just as badly as she craved him? Had the same thoughts been torturing the man for as long? Would one night be enough to sate such long held blissful dreams? Would it hell.

As Malcolm maintained his composure, Elyna was left trembling with desire. Breath rising and falling quickly as her lungs struggled for the air they so desperately needed. Her skin horripulated against the brush of his arm, the press of his chest to her side as with his intimate guidance she was permitted to continue her exploration into what would drive the man to truly break his composure, once and for all.

He shifted, moving to slip soft
fabric away from her most intimate secrets. Elyna missed the warmth that his body provided, and her hand slipped away. Lips pressed together in a pout before spreading in a smile at his return. Her legs were moved and the woman found her back against the furs. They tickled her spine and she twisted to watch the man, studying his features before the light caress drew a giggle. Her hand pressed over her mouth, the blush spread from her collar to her cheeks before her eyes closed. His next motion caused a sharp intake of air before a soft moan.

How long did he torture her? She had been ready, more than ready from the moment his kiss had pinned her to the door. Elyna had barely held her control and the last of it was stripped away until she was left reaching for him, blind with passion as his name was whispered into the dark. A plea, a command as she had tried before.

‘Kiss me…’

Elyna giggled and Malcolm couldn’t help but smile at her. Why did this feel so easy? She had stripped him of his nerves with a single act, which had pathed way for a memorable experience. A gasp and a soft grown from the woman threatened to undo him moments after their union. When Elyna moved her hand to cover her mouth, Malcolm drew it away, threading their fingers together. The gesture, though sweet, was very short lived, as he reached for her hair not long after that, pinning her to the bed as his body met hers.

She asked that he kiss her, a request the man found impossible to deny. He cupped her jaw in his hand, his free arm resting below her head to hold his form up. Bodies pressed together, he let her bear the brunt of his weight as their lips met. Time seemed to fall away without notice, the room dimming as the fire died and the aurora passed.

Malcolm dragged his kiss across her cheek, dotting his lips to the delicate skin below her ear. He closed his eyes and pulled on her hair as his thrusts became short and sharp, hilted by the woman. He held his breath, bit down with care on the lobe of Elyna’s left ear, and let go. Every nerve ending was on fire for the few short seconds of bliss that followed. His senses soon returned, Malcolm crashed another kiss against the woman’s mouth and rocked against her form until he found the strength to withdraw and inch onto his side.

The act had left him breathless and smiling. Malcolm combed Elyna’s hair back from her vision and adored the edge of her face with gentle kisses. All it took was a look to have him melt against her again, arm heavy across her belly, head bowed to address her mouth and the sun kissed skin of her collar. He rolled her onto her side and dragged her back against his form, cuddled close. Malcolm liked the way her body fit against his own, how the curve of her rump felt against his hips, breasts held captive by the arm that crossed her chest from beneath her. His free hand dipped low, tracing up and down the length of her thigh.

He smiled, lidded eyes closed to rest. “Are you all right?” He asked. Had she any regrets?

How could this be so different to the love she had known before? Yvan had pursued her over a span of seasons. She’d been an innocent, unused the attentions of a man. Left longing for his touch between extended periods of time, until she felt herself loosing her mind and inhibition through desire. Yvan had pulled her into a game of passion, one where he always triumphed. None of that explained the way Malcolm made her feel. His touch was a brand against her skin. Skin that flinched from the intensity of sensation. His kiss was her haven and she lost herself within it, gladly.

Though she tried, she couldn’t help the soft noises of pleasure he drew from her. Body arching in union the woman saw stars as he joined them. How could it feel this good? Since meeting the man, she’d known he would be trouble for her. Every instinct of self-preservation had warned her away and she hadn’t listened. He had stripped her so cleanly of her defences, as easily as he had removed her clothes this night. He left her breathless and trembling beneath him. Elyna was dimly aware that the Aurora has faded. How much time had passed in bliss? She broke the kiss to bury her face against his neck, reaching her height of bliss and smothering the sound against his skin. Her own slick with sweat at the back of her neck and base of her spine, Frost or no Frost.

His thrusts increased and she hissed a breath as her hair was tugged. There was no complaint however as she arched again beneath the man. His teeth closing against her lobe. She wrapped her arms around him, smoothing them gently down the muscles in her arms, shameful really, her reaction to him. Even now, even so freshly sated and the sensation of his body against hers was enough to stir passion anew.

He withdrew and she could only stare at him in the dark. Her breathing slowly eased, her fingers and toes left tingling as she smiled and returned his sweet kisses. Her mouth inching over his features. She needed to remember this. Every part of him, every moment. She needed to seal it away and keep it safe.

Curled against the man, trembling muscles finally came to relax. In the dark he wouldn’t see the mottled bruises that covered her right shoulder and traced the length of her back. Her feet tucked between his, Elyna smiled. Was she alright? In her whole life, she had never felt like this. Safe. She swallowed and turned in his embrace. Her body pressed lengthways to his again, the woman cupped his face gently and adored him with kisses once more. It would be the only answer that she could give. Finally she sank back against the pillows, content to simply stare.

What time was it? The woman pressed her teeth against her bottom lip. He looked tired, as though he could sorely use the sleep he could find in the remaining hours before morning. Elyna sat up carefully and pressed a kiss to his forehead, his cheek and jaw before brushing her lips against his.

It was time to leave.

Elyna sat up, which saw Malcolm prop himself up on an elbow. He pressed a kiss to her shoulder and smiled against the smooth skin of her arm. Was she ready to leave, so soon? At least, he thought, it seemed too soon for her to go. Malcolm took a moment to listen to the quiet of the keep and realised it must have been later than he knew. She made a move to leave, and he reached out to stop her, pulling the woman back to bed, back into his arms. One more kiss, one more embrace, just another moment. It seemed he would steal as many as he could.

Her hair was long and dark against the brown furs. He gathered it with a sweep of his hand, leaving her neck bare. What if he couldn’t stop kissing her, seeking the most tender spot, the one that made her melt. He kissed her collar, over her belly, knee and ankle, taking every inch of her in, worshiping her. The Skyrider gave a shiver, though Malcolm could not be sure if it was delight or in response to the cold air. He pulled back the blankets and invited her in with a look.

Brown eyes searched his features in the dark. The candle had died and the fire turned to embers that smouldered and cast their last heat into the air. He pulled her back and she went willingly. Her heart squeezed with the realisation that he wanted her to go, as much as she wanted to depart. She would stay in his bed a lifetime if it was permitted. Which it wasn’t.

How could she refuse such an eager invitation? The covers pulled back and she slid beneath them. Shivering once more, goosebumps raised across her back and arms as she wriggled closer to the man. Her fingertips explored his face once more, taking the chance to memorise the smooth plans.

‘If I kiss you again,’ she breathed against him, lost in the scent of him that surrounded them both, ‘I don’t think I’ll be able to stop…’ the woman warned. His breath tickled her cheek and her hands slipped down his shoulders and landed on his chest once more. She couldn’t resist and moved to kiss him again. Her lips soft and testing, teasing the edges of his mouth as her hands slipped lower still.

He would never believe that she hadn’t truly intended to sleep with him this night. She grinned as she kissed him, she made a liar of herself.

There was something about the weight of her hands against his chest, that triggered a primal urge in the man. Elyna let her hand go lower, teasing him to attention with very little effort at all. Her kisses were tentative and tender, daring him to partake. All of the woman’s teasing seemed to make the man come alive. He sat up to meet her mouth in a hungry kiss and dragged her leg over his lap, trapping her against him once more, only this time, Elyna was in control.

She had been the last thing on his mind when he had closed his eyes to sleep that night. Wrapped in the woman’s warmth, leg strewn across his lap, belly tucked against his side, he held his hand against her lower back and drifted off to sleep.

Malcolm had been out cold when Jared had entered the room. The baron drummed his fist against the bedside table, waking the duke with a start. Malcolm looked about himself to find the bed empty, had Elyna slipped away before dawn?

“Good morning,” Jared said. “You look as if you’ve lost something, my friend?”

Malcolm opened his mouth, searching for a word, some kind of excuse. What did Jared know? “Just a bad dream,” he lied.

“Doesn’t smell like a bad dream in here.” Jared teased.

Malcolm, mortified, pulled the covers up around his bare form. “What time is it?” He asked.

“Don’t worry,” Jared replied, “you’ve an hour until breakfast. I just came to check on you. You disappeared last night?”

“Too much wine,” Malcolm said, “left me with a terrible headache.”

“Not like you,” Jared countered.

“Not at all,” Malcolm agreed.

“Owen told me your engagement to Lady Burhan is off?”

“Owen,” Malcolm mouthed. What had gotten into his brother? “That’s right, I’m sure the king will announce why today at breakfast.”

“Oh dear,” Jared said. “Let me guess… it’s something to do with Lord Hector being here?”

Malcolm didn’t reply.

Jared reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. “You liked the Burhan girl—I could tell… will you be all right?”

“Indeed,” Malcolm said. “I need to wash. Can you make sure this letter is sent for me once I’ve signed it? I haven’t much more to add,” Malcolm requested of his friend.

“Of course,” Jared agreed, having already glanced over it. “I’m sorry, Malcolm.”

Malcolm frowned, “as am I.”