She couldn’t ignore the slight undercurrent of disquiet threaded within his voice. Not wishing to cause him discomfort, she raised her hand and welcomed his fingers enclosing around her. She glanced up into his ruggedly handsome face and his dazzling smile stopped her heart—her warrior, her king, the man who would be…hers. Unable to resist, she smiled in return.
FireStrike was taller than Mira so she struggled to get her foot into the stirrup, but once secured, Marek pulled her up with ease. Grateful for his help, she tried to relax, but every nerve in her body flared to life in acknowledgment of the man whose legs now straddled hers. Although careful not to touch her, his strong arms cradled her as one hand held the reins and the other rested on the saddle horn. They’d broken almost every rule regarding decorum, yet years of training kept her back stiff to avoid any further appearance of impropriety.
Sampson on Reeza loped up from behind. Although he covered it well, his eyes narrowed at her new position.
“Sire, the men are ready. We just need to deal with Caden. Should we dispatch him now?”
The gasp slipped out of her mouth before she could swallow it, and Marek’s sudden rigid posture confirmed he’d heard it. Although Caden’s arrow had almost killed her, in the end Caden did save her and killing him now after they’d been through so much seemed like such a waste. She wanted to ask Marek for leniency, but didn’t have the courage to speak on the Tiwan’s behalf.
Instead she gripped the pommel with both hands, anticipating Marek’s answer. FireStrike shifted beneath her, sensing the unease twisting a knot in her stomach. Marek flexed his fingers and inhaled a deep breath. She knew he had the safety of his men to think about. Caden might have supplied the antidote, but the Tiwan Tribe had killed several of his men. Marek had every right to order Caden’s execution, yet she prayed he’d show mercy.
She gazed into the clearing surrounded by tall pines that had served as their home for the last few days. Except for the fire pits, all evidence of their stay would soon disappear as the Mother Source reabsorbed the meadow back into her care.
The sun had just topped the trees spilling light onto the Critons and riders who waited for the order to finish their journey home. White seed pods from the lion’s tooth flower floated in the air giving the clearing a fairytale quality as the puffs played in the breeze, a final dance around the animals and men before settling into the soil and going dormant until the season of rebirth.
Mira disturbed the tranquility of their secluded spot by landing with a thud amidst several Critons. Using her head as a battering ram, she bumped DarkStar in the shoulder trying to get him to chase her. He snorted and whipped his head sideways to nip at her, but she skittered out of reach. Carina smiled at her young friend until Marek’s commanding voice reminded her of Caden’s pending fate.
“Bind him. Have him ride another Criton while his follows.”
She noticed the almost imperceptible rise in Sampson’s eyebrows, but any reservations remained unvoiced. Sampson nodded and retreated to follow orders.
Her heart fluttered in happiness for her king who would show an adversary kindness. She tilted her head to look into his face. His lips were clamped tight, and worry danced in the shadows of his eyes as if second-guessing his decision. Wishing to ease his concern, she brushed her thumb across his troubled brow. His eyes brightened at her touch.
“You ready, Carina?”
Her breath quickened at the anticipation in his voice. Oh, how she loved Criton riding. Just the excitement of flying seemed to lessen the pain in her shoulder.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Without any noticeable movement from Marek, FireStrike pushed with his powerful hind legs and beat his wings to propel them forward. She glanced down to watch the spectacle below as the other Critons jumped into the air, their strong wings pumping furiously to catch their Alpha and chase down the foot soldiers and coursers who were already running through the forest toward the border.
Another Criton swooped in from FireStrike’s right flank and settled into formation behind them. Carina laughed when she realized it was Mira. Her little Criton had transformed into a beautiful animal. Her perfectly proportioned translucent green wings swept up and down in a steady rhythm keeping pace with the others.
“Your Criton seems to think she is FireStrike’s second-in-command,” Marek mused.
“FireStrike doesn’t seem to mind.”
“Nor have the others showed any signs of challenging her. I guess they don’t want to pick a fight with a female who has made up her mind.” Marek chuckled.
Carina scowled, knowing Marek’s double meaning comment wasn’t intended solely for Mira.
“Or, she might consider herself your Criton and is flying beside you,” he added. “She did save you after all.”
“Yes, she did.” Carina grinned. After spending years defending Mira’s size, Carina savored the kernel of pride that swelled in her chest as she observed her beloved Criton. The effortless beat of Mira’s wings as she matched FireStrike’s tempo and the elegant arch of her neck as she pressed forward into the wind, filled Carina with joy.
But, at the same time, Mira’s transformation meant she would be a much sought after Criton. Someday Mira would bond with a rider, and no matter how much Carina wished it so, in her heart she knew it wouldn’t be her.
Carina couldn’t explain the special connection she had with Mira. They were like kindred spirits, growing up alone in a large world with only each other to love. Marek’s men believed Mira saving her was a miracle, but she knew better. True friends would always be there for each other. Mira had simply acted like a loyal friend.
Carina grimaced. She’d made a grave mistake by leaving Mira behind. With a silent vow, Carina promised never to abandon her companion again until she bonded with her rider.
“Look Carina!” Marek’s enthusiasm as he pointed at a meadow nudged the sad thoughts of eventually losing Mira from her mind.
She followed Marek’s gaze to view a herd of pronghorned gambels jumping across a grassy flatland as they raced for the safety of the trees.
“The Critons have startled them,” he said conversationally. “If we weren’t in such a hurry, I’d let them feed. But they’ll have to wait until we cross the border.”
They traveled hard and fast and the strain of riding weighed on her. The steady throb in her shoulder influenced a growing headache. She was tired yet couldn’t relax because she had to keep her back straight to avoid touching Marek. But even her discomfort and aching body didn’t prevent the cadence of FireStrike’s wings from lulling her. More than once she jolted awake after drifting to sleep. When she slipped forward again and reached out to grasp the pommel to catch herself, the sudden motion pulled at her stitches and she yelped at the stabbing pain.
“Come here,” Marek murmured, and wrapped an arm around her waist encouraging her to lean back.
Her body melted, molding against his chest and arms as if remembering a lost memory. The powerful beat of FireStrike’s wings soothed her, placing her in a trance-like state as she relaxed into Marek’s warmth.
“But this isn’t proper,” she grumbled, her mind floating away on the rise and plunge of FireStrike’s gentle rhythm.
Marek chuckled, and dropped his chin onto her shoulder in a small, intimate gesture before whispering, “You said so yourself that we’ve never followed etiquette. Why start now?”
If she wasn’t so tired, she might’ve focused on the vibrations coursing through her from Marek’s voice rumbling in her ear. Instead, she wrapped her arms around the arm that encircled her and yielded to the comfort and safety of his body.
27 – STIRRLAN
Two full days of riding found them flying over a small mountain range into a wide valley following the path of a shallow stream. Tall, wispy grass waving in the wind filled the valley with endless motion.
After the first poor attempt at protocol, Carina abandoned the endeavor altogether, thriving in the strength of Marek’s arms and the wind in her face until she could no longer hold her eyes open and fell asleep. Marek didn’t seem to mind their closeness and simply made it a habit of keeping her fixed against his chest.
She woke to the downward motion as they glided into the valley. She wasn’t sure how long she had slept, but from her body’s stiffened position, decided it had been for awhile. She stretched and arched her back in an attempt to ease some of the kinks.
“How are you feeling?”
She twisted to sit askew in the saddle, leaning her shoulder against Marek’s chest to look into his face. Even with her wound and other healing bruises, she loved riding with Marek.
“Better. Where are we?”
“We just flew over the Esquaine Mountain Range, which marks the beginning of my northern border. We’re on home soil now.” Marek’s voice was a soft, soothing ripple of sound, his posture relaxed.
“Are you eager to get home?”
He grinned. “Aye, it’ll be good to have you safe.” He paused from scouting the terrain to fix her with a pointed stare. “I also grow tired of only lying beside you at night, Carina McKay.”
The blush began in her toes and rose to burn on her cheeks. Marek’s laugh as he squeezed her and buried his head in her neck confirmed he witnessed the giveaway color.
His voice lowered to a raspy whisper and sparked tiny pinpricks of energy to arc through her body. “Of course, now I’ll have to wait until your shoulder heals,” he grumbled.
Her reaction to him was powerful, uncontrollable…and totally exciting. But his wicked smile and the gleam in his eyes kept her mouth closed in embarrassment until he released her from his piercing gaze and began showing her different landmarks as they flew by. Anticipation bubbled just beneath his voice as he spoke about his homeland.
He pointed to a stark, rocky mountain riddled with large caves where unbonded Critons lived. As they soared past the jagged peak, a few of the young animals peered out of their lairs and roared at the intruders flying through their claimed territory. FireStrike and the other Critons ignored them, seemingly unperturbed by the youngsters’ impetuous behavior.
Marek’s eyes glittered as he scanned the rocks below. “Hopefully, once they transition my soldiers will find a bond-match.”
She watched him concentrate on the young Critons living amid the caves on his land. With his windblown hair and a day’s worth of beard, he appeared wild and untamed like an uncontrollable storm threatening on the horizon. But to her, he looked stunning. At this moment as she sat astride a spectacular Criton flying through the air, she’d never been happier and more appreciative for being alive.
She wasn’t sure if Marek sensed her studying him, but with a sudden shift in focus, his gaze speared her. The sunlight bouncing off the grey flecks in his eyes seared through her defenses leaving her exposed and vulnerable. Her lungs constricted. She couldn’t inhale a full breath of air. Her body quivered, anticipating his touch.
His head bent toward her and she didn’t shy away. Maybe it was everything she had just been through. Or that she’d grown accustomed to his presence, riding next to him during the day and sleeping beside him at night. Or maybe his excitement at being home or enjoying the wind currents on Critonback fueled her boldness. Probably a combination of everything fostered her unexpected self-assuredness. She grabbed onto that courage, letting it support and strengthen her.
In her most daring move yet, she stroked his face with her fingertips and traced her thumb over an eyebrow in an attempt to soothe the passion smoldering in his eyes. Once she started, curiosity took control of her actions. With the back of her fingers, she caressed his cheek before skimming them along his jaw. His teeth clenched as she unfurled her hand in his thick hair. Marek consumed her vision, the rest of the world withered away. The cooling wind on her back couldn’t stem a liquid heat building within her from an ache that had only grown in intensity the more she touched him. With effort, she tore her eyes from his penetrating stare to marvel at his mouth. She trembled when she remembered the soft sweep of his lips against her neck.
He secured her unruly hair behind an ear before sliding his hand to the back of her neck. “Carina,” he murmured.
He spoke softly, but the need interlaced within his tone crashed through her body catapulting her pulse into overdrive. Her eyes widened as he leaned toward her. Her heart pounded in her ears. She ducked her head in a sudden feat of panic, but his quick reflexes anticipated her move. His hand curled into a fist and grabbed her hair, forcing her face upward. The setting sun backlit him, but his eyes blazed with hunger. He released her hair and pressed his hand along her jaw, his thumb stroking her cheek as his lips brushed her forehead. His mouth whispered down her face, stopping to deposit a featherlight kiss near her temple before roving down her cheek.
Somewhere during Marek’s journey as his mouth set her body on fire, a longing that had lived dormant within her, stirred and stretched. Her breath came in short, panting gasps. Everywhere his lips touched amplified the longing within her. She wrapped her arms around his waist, clutching him to her. Motionless, she smiled as his lips teased the corner of her mouth, fueling the flames within her.
He leaned back and cupped her face with both hands, his eyes hypnotizing her. “You’re beautiful,” his velvet voice rumbled before his lips touched hers.
The world evaporated and her mind splintered as a jolt of desire shot through every nerve ending in her body. His mouth encouraged and tantalized, and the longing burst to life with a voracious appetite. As one arm encircled her, locking her against his hard chest, his free hand traveled up her thigh. She gasped and his tongue slipped inside her mouth, exploring and tasting.