Page 102 of Dark Rival

She trembled and reached for his shoulders. “I can’t stand this. I won’t share you.”

Her words made his heart leap with what felt like exultation. He already knew he could not, would not, share her—but a liaison between them was forbidden. Eventually he would have to let her go. Eventually she would want to go.

But just then, he was fiercely pleased to hear her possessive statement. Just then, he wanted her loyalty and love. And what did that mean? He had already admitted a truth he had no wish to ever admit again—that he cared. To care was dangerous—more dangerous, in his view, than denying the Queen.

“I will try my best to divert her tonight,” he said softly, aware that they had just weathered a very personal crisis. And that left him standing alone in her chamber with the most beautiful and pure woman he had ever known, a woman whose mere presence brightened any chamber and any soul—even his. His heart began a new, insistent beat.

She stiffened, aware of his sudden change of interest. “Royce—it’s only been a few hours, but I missed you so much.”

He tried not to think about the shocking fact that he had actually missed her, too. As importantly, he must not think of her small, hot body beneath his while he drove into her tight warmth and wetness. And he must forget her extreme passion, which matched his exactly. But she took his face in her hands and stood on tiptoe.

“Ailios, dinna.”

“Tough,” she breathed. “You’re mine.” And she kissed him.

He tried to remain still, but her words undid him. You’re mine. His hard body jerked and became fully attentive, clamoring for union and release. He fought the need to be with her, the urge to take her, dominate her. But she plied his lips sensually, seductively, inflaming him impossibly. Still, he refused to move or participate; he would not kiss her back.

She suddenly nipped his lip. The demand was unmistakable. And then the pressure of her mouth increased. He felt her blood screaming in her veins. He felt her need, acutely, as if it was his—which it was. She needed him driving inside her. He needed to drive inside her. Against his very will, he opened for her. She moaned and her tongue went deep. He thought of taking her to the bed, mounting her, teasing her. He thought of thrusting deep. He thought of La Puissance.

His mind turned blank; he wrapped her in his arms, bent her backward and took over the kiss.

“Hurry,” she gasped.

Somehow, a degree of sanity left, he pulled away.

She gasped, shocked.

He walked to the far side of the chamber, trying to recover his composure and control. He leaned against the wall, waiting for the violent urge to move into her to dull and subside. He heard her panting behind him and thought about how this woman affected him as no other ever had. Was that why the Ancients had chosen him, because he would not think twice about dying for her?

He said roughly, “After last night, I truly dinna trust myself, Ailios.” He finally looked at her, mouth hard and tight.

“I trust you.” She hesitated, trembling. “But I have my powers back, Royce, and I can’t lose them again.”

“Aye.” He glanced away, with guilt. “Calm yerself, quickly. She has asked fer ye an’ we need go down to the hall.”

“What?”

That truth was like ice water. He took a few deep breaths and faced her. “She’s heard about Garret.”

She stared, then said, “What does this mean, exactly?”

“It means ye willna heal a single soul, a single beast—not even a fly—while she is here.”

Her eyes widened. “Why?”

“She’ll take ye with her, back to court. She’ll want yer powers for herself an’ ye’ll be a hostage at court until ye lose yer powers—or until ye die.”

She paled. “Royce, you’re kidding, right?”

“Do I appear amused?”

“No. You seem really worried—and you’re worrying me.”

He knew he’d kept his expression impassive, but Ailios seemed able to read his thoughts. “If she wishes to take ye from here, I canna stop her. Ye’d have to go, or we could leap to another time, when she’s nay royal—or when she’s dead.”

“Why don’t we do that now?” she exclaimed.

“Ailios, I’m lord o’ Carrick an’ all of Morvern. I’m a Master, but my people need me here an’ now. And the Code demands a Master live in his time. We canna pick an’ choose where to live.” He smiled briefly. “If we leap forward a dozen years, I willna stay with ye. My place is in this time.”