Chapter 33

CHAPTER 33

WREN

She wanted him.

That was all Wren knew, all she wanted to know. Just him.

She had done from the moment she had first seen him in the forest, wanted to make him hers, wanted to never let him go. It might not be logical, or even sane, but she couldn't deny it. He was hers. Somehow he always had been. Like he had been made for her.

Did it really work that way? The stories said it did but Elodie had always called that utter nonsense.

His mouth against hers, his tongue and lips moving in perfect harmony, drove all thoughts from her mind. She would do anything to protect him and the intensity of that feeling was terrifying. It was so unfamiliar and wild that she couldn't give in to her need for him just yet.

Because she had to know.

‘Is it real?' she asked. ‘What we're feeling?'

Perhaps she hadn't felt it from the very first time she saw him, but she had felt something. And once they were in the forest… in the darkwood… and… had it been real then? Was any of it real? He knew what she was, he had to. He had seen everything. Or nearly everything. And yet he was still here, with her, holding her, kissing her.

‘It's stronger than anything I've ever felt,' he admitted. ‘Like I'm being swept up in a flood, where the only choice is to let it take me with it. Do you understand? I don't know if this is something to do with the magic you used to save me or… or something else… I just don't know. And, Wren—?' He pulled her to a stop again, stared down into her eyes. For a moment he chewed on his lower lip, as if hesitating to speak. But the words would not be stopped. ‘I don't care.'

Finn wrapped his arms around Wren, held her close against him, shielding her from everything. He'd protected her from the first, thrown himself into danger for her time and again. He was her champion, just like the Paladins and the knights from the old tales.

‘What happened?' he asked. ‘Back in the forest. What did you do?'

She pressed her forehead against his chest and closed her eyes. ‘I was trying to heal you, to drive out the shadow kin's poison. But I don't know… it didn't work like I thought it would. The light… the light burned inside me and I think… I think I did something else. Changed you. So when Leander threatened me…'

‘The bastard should never have even touched you.' The snarl was there again, buried in his otherwise gentle voice like a barb.

‘He's your brother.'

‘ Half -brother. Different mothers. His a queen and mine… I don't know, a courtier, a servant, some other unfortunate who caught our father's eye. When Alessander recognised me as a son, my beloved brothers tried to drown me the very same evening. Joke's on them though, since Leander and I are the only ones still alive. And since he keeps trying to kill me at any available opportunity you can't say we're close.'

‘How many brothers did you have?'

‘Five. Alessander never did things by half and he delighted in setting us against each other.' His hand strayed to her hair, stroking it, running his fingers through it idly. ‘It's the Ilanthian way, you know? Succession by murder. A delightful subject. We should talk about something else. Come on, let's go inside.'

She glanced around them. The courtyard was still empty and they were wrapped together in the shadows of the wall. Safe. Such darkness shouldn't feel so safe, but it did.

‘I don't want to be a princess.'

‘I don't want to be a prince,' he said, as if it was a joke. The problem was, it was true and there was nothing to be done about it. His fingertips traced a line down her jaw, to her throat, and Wren sighed, tilting her head back and leaning in to him again.

‘What do we do?'

He turned solemn in a heartbeat. ‘Wren, I can't let you run away. The kingdom needs you.'

That was it then. He'd keep her here and while part of her didn't care, or didn't want to care, the rest of her did. She needed to get out, to find Elodie and escape this nightmare. Which would mean leaving him behind.

It was like deciding to cut off her own hand. It shouldn't feel like that but it did. She reeled back, trying to put it into words.

‘Finn,' she sighed, wishing for anything else. ‘This place… these people… I can't…'

‘Listen to me, come back. We'll talk to your father.' She winced as he called Roland that. She didn't want Roland as a father, not now, not ever. ‘He'll listen to reason, I know he will. He's a good man, Wren. A kind man. He raised me. He… he won't give you up but he might…' And his words failed. Because they both knew that Roland de Silvius's duty to the crown was going to override anything else. She had understood that from the moment she had met him. His dismissal alone would have told her as much.

He served the crown.

Except once. When he'd fathered her with Elodie, if that was what had really happened. Everyone else seemed to think so. They'd both broken vows that night, obviously. Maybe he regretted it and everything since then had been to make up for it.

And here she was, living proof of his greatest failure, his deepest regret. Oh, her life just kept getting better and better. She couldn't do anything right, but then why would that be possible when she had been born from such a wrong?

But Finn didn't let her go. If he had, she was sure her heart would shatter into a million pieces.

She couldn't doubt his love and respect for his guardian. The man who referred to his bloodline as an Ilanthian taint . Roland did not deserve him. The very thought of it made her indignant on his behalf. But she couldn't tell him. It would break his heart. So she let him hold her.

‘Besides,' he went on. ‘You can't get out of the garrison tonight. The gates are locked and guarded. Roland has given the order that no one is to enter or leave. I'm pretty sure that includes you.'

He was good at giving orders, her so-called father. That much was obvious. He'd been quick to hand out orders to her as soon as she woke up and found herself trapped in this nightmare. She'd always dreamed of finding her father. She sorely regretted that now.

And when he found out what she was, what she could do, the way the shadows sang for her…

A freak, a monster…

‘Where were you earlier? When I woke up?' she asked. ‘Anselm was there but you'd gone.'

‘At a debriefing. Being quizzed on everything that had happened and everything about you. Don't worry, even I wasn't going to tell him what happened with the shadow kin. If they found out I'd been bitten…' He shook his head. ‘And if they knew what happened at the camp…' His eyes darkened again, and for a moment she thought she saw little flecks of light dancing against the blue. ‘I don't know what to do, Wren. I think we're both in a lot of trouble. Something in me has changed. I can feel it.'

She found the urge to apologise rising again and shoved it down ruthlessly. ‘I couldn't let you die, Finn. I just?—'

‘Shush,' he breathed and kissed her again, silencing her.

They'd reached the door of the towerhouse. She hadn't even been aware of them moving, but here they were back where she had started. Finn opened it and they slipped inside and up the stairs. The house was quiet, the occupants all asleep now.

Finn didn't care what she might be. That meant everything. No, he couldn't mean that. He didn't care whether it was real or some enchantment. That was what he meant.

She didn't doubt for a moment that he cared for her. Which was part of the problem. She didn't know that she deserved it. She didn't know if it was real or something she had forced upon him.

But he seemed so sure.

Was it true? Had she done something to Finn so now he had no choice but to want her? Magic had that effect, she knew it. Hedge witches were very strict about its use for that very reason. Half the bargains with the darkwood she had ever heard about were made for love, or for lust, bargains made by people who didn't know the difference. People used magic to entice lovers, to keep them from straying, but for all the rumours of love spells she had never heard of anyone affected as powerfully as this. It was as if they had both lost their minds, as if a spell had been cast on both of them.

Wren reached the door of the bedroom assigned to her and her hand stilled on the handle. Finn's arms still encircled her and every so often he found some new way to press a kiss to her, or a way to touch her skin that sent fresh shivers of need through her.

‘What if you… what if you don't want this?' she asked. ‘What if…?'

‘Believe me,' he told her, blue eyes fierce and determined. ‘I want this.' Then he seemed to pull back a little and doubt finally showed. ‘But only… only if you do.'

‘And if it's not real?'

‘It has to be, Wren. I wanted you from the first but this… this is more. I came to care for you. This is like nothing else I've ever?—'

She pulled him inside the room with her and kissed him to silence.

It had to be real, that was what he said and she believed him. She believed that too. It had to be. Because otherwise she was a monster, using magic to get what she wanted. Or they were caught in a tangle of enchantment from which they couldn't extricate themselves.

And part of her couldn't bring itself to care.

Kicking the door closed behind him, Finn reached for her again. If this was madness, or an enchantment, she didn't want it to end. She wanted him, only him. And every movement, every breath told her he wanted the same.

Wren slid her hands up his back, pulling out the shirt so she could touch the skin underneath.

‘Tell me what to do,' he asked, his voice breathless.

She faltered, the words confusing her. ‘What?'

‘Tell me what you need. I don't want to hurt you, or… or…'

He looked for all the world a lost soul, desperate but also so very much in need of guidance. People looked like that when Elodie arrived to a terrible illness or accident, or to the birthing room. He shouldn't look like that. But at the same time it just made her want him all the more. How could she not?

Wren grabbed a fistful of his shirt so she could pull him towards her again. They toppled back onto the bed and he only just managed to catch himself on his outstretched arms so he didn't crush her completely.

She lay beneath him, breathing hard, trying to gather her thoughts.

‘All right then,' she said at last. ‘Undress.'

‘Undress?' When she nodded, he complied, trying his best not to look like a green boy tearing off every scrap of clothing as quickly as he could. He pulled off his upper clothes and suddenly he paused as if unaccountably exposed in an entirely different way. ‘Are you… are you sure?'

He stood there bare-chested, but being naked before her clearly didn't bother him. Was she catching a glimpse of something else?

Something inside him, something fragile and afraid. The fear that she could still reject him, that he'd have no choice but to put his clothes back on and slink away, defeated. Finn didn't seem like the type to go to bed with anyone less than willing. He wasn't like Pol and his ilk. How she knew that, she wasn't sure, but the certainty was there in her mind. He wanted her to be happy. He wanted to please her.

The thought sent a rush of pleasure to the core of her body.

‘I'm sure, Finn,' she told him.

He pulled off the rest of his clothes more slowly and watched her with those beautiful blue eyes, as she took in his every movement, graceful as a dancer. When he'd finished and stood there somewhat awkwardly, waiting for her next command, she stood up and held her hands over her head.

‘Now undress me.'

He took his time, indulging his desire for her. She squirmed when his fingertips brushed her skin, but he only did so accidentally. Well, maybe not entirely accidentally.

When they finally stood naked together, she rose on her toes and kissed his mouth again.

This time there was nothing else between them, nothing to hold them back. Her hands explored his shoulders, his chest, her clever fingers teasing his nipples until they tightened. He threw his head back and let her work her way further down his body. His abdominal muscles jumped beneath her touch, as hard as steel beneath his skin. Their lines guided her downwards.

‘Careful,' he warned when she brushed her fingers up the length of his straining cock.

She pulled back. ‘Did I hurt you?'

‘No,' he laughed, a mixture of relief and desperation. ‘You could never do that, heart. But too much and I'll spend before we do anything else. The things you do to me, Wren…'

When she touched him again, her name became a groan of need on his lips.

‘Finn?' she whispered, hesitant now. She didn't know why. They were naked together, but now… now it seemed like something more intimate, more special. ‘Kiss me?'

He looked down the length of her, studying her with an appraising eye. ‘Where?'

‘Everywhere.'

She blushed as she said it. But that was what she wanted.

Him.

Everywhere.