Captive Heart (20 page)

At least too late if there were any shred of honor left in him.

“If you love him,” I told Nimue, “you’ll let him be a man.”

Her jaw went hard. “He won’t be the man I made.”

“Will you love him any less?”

“Yes!”

My soul shrank at the fury in her answer. How much of Ironside was
him
and how much was what Nimue had compelled him to be? Had Nimue simply played off his worst qualities and made them worse still? Was there something of the man redeemable yet?

No. I refuse to believe that last. With his free will returned, I wanted—
needed—
him to confess his sins. To be the demon I’d known him to be.

Unforgivable and irredeemable.

For my father, for Nessie, for me, I
needed
revenge.

And then, in horror, I realized I had communicated too much. That I had given Nimue the very reward that her soul craved. If she couldn’t compel Ironside or love him any longer, there was one useful purpose he could yet serve. One crystal victory he could yet provide. The one exquisite moment of torture in my eyes that would be hers forever.

My world stopped on her smile.

A bottomless chasm opened on her words.

“Redeem him.”

“Why do you think he’s mine to redeem?” I stalled for time, but what I asked was truth. I was not the only one upon whose word the Red Knight’s redemption lay.

Nimue nodded toward the champions. Gareth had turned to me for direction, waiting to carry out my desire. “
He
seems to think it is.”

“I command him, true, but in this Nessie commands me. Bring her to me.”

“And I should do that—why?”

I went very still as my heart began to race. “Ironside yielded. Nessie is mine.”

“That would be true only if your sister was Ironside’s prisoner alone.”

“But he’s your champion.”

“Is he? What need does a fae have for a mortal champion? He is my dalliance, nothing more.”

“One word from me and your—dalliance—will be dead.”

“As will your sister be. If she’s not already.”

Dread clutched my heart, clouded my vision. I whirled to find my sister.

Nimue lightly caught my arm, turned me back to her so she could stare into my soul and pleasure in my dark emotion. Only when she’d sated herself did she say, “She lives. But my men have already carried her away. They are an hour gone by now.”

“But the combat—” had been for Nessie’s life.

“What need have I to obey the laws of men?”

“The laws of decency seem to elude you as well.” Marrok’s voice was low and threatening as he paced his way to us. The page must have stripped him of his armor and shield and tunic too. Bare-chested, he carried only his sword as he came. “You will take us to her. Now.”

“Or you shall…what? Howl at me?”

Marrok stepped close. “The knight might never slay a lady, but I will guarantee you the wolf has no such compunction.”

“And if I compelled the wolf to slay the knight?”

Marrok’s eyes glinted in the sunlight. Demon-red. He shoved the hilt of his sword in my hand. “The knight you may compel, but I learned one thing on the road here. Never once was my wolf enthralled.” Deliberately, without hesitation, he slid his breeches off.

Nimue’s eyes traveled the long length of him. “Fifty knights would stop you before you hit the ground on all fours if you threaten me. But in this form”—she ran her tongue across her lower lip—“perhaps we could bargain.”

“No.”

I shivered at the sound of the Red Knight’s voice behind me.

“Jealous, my love?” Nimue asked, her gaze still lingering appreciatively over Marrok.

“No, my knights will not raise a sword against Marrok—in whatever form he takes. It was a combat of champions. I yielded myself—and my men—to Gareth. That much honor I still possess.”

Her eyes cut sharply to Ironside. “You would betray me? I have only to think it and your strength is gone.”

“Then it is forfeit. I was spared my life, all else I must earn again. Give them their lady—and go.”

Damn the man
. All our lives turned now on his honor and the honor of the knights who called him liege. For me to be beholden to the honor of the man who’d tortured my sister…

I saw the moment his strength fled. Saw the knowledge in his eyes of its passing, felt the magic thicken the very air until Nimue dismissed it with a wave.

She whistled, and a dove-white horse appeared. Earlier compelled and called from the stable no doubt, but the knights about murmured in awe at the miracle of it.

Marrok gathered himself to shift. To stop her leaving. “Lynette’s sister,” was all he said through teeth clenched with strain.

“Is yours now to find…and enjoy.”

At that Marrok bristled, one breath away from shifting. A part of me cheered him on, begged him shift and drag her down. He alone here had the power to slay her. But Merlin and the crystal cave was a truth already written. Whatever happened here today, Nimue would escape—from death, from chains, from hurts. The wolf would give its life to see her destroyed and I knew—
knew
from my vantage—its death—Marrok’s death—would be in vain.

With a cry, I threw myself at Marrok. “No! No! I command you, no!”

He slipped like liquid silver through my hands.

“No, no,” I begged. “Please, no.”

Soft fur brushed through my fingers…then they were touching sweet, naked flesh. Burled shoulders, arms and hands that gripped my wrists. “Why?” he growled.

“I couldn’t bear to watch you die.”

“Have you so little faith in me?” Still, he crushed me to him, and I wept into his chest.

Ironside himself lifted Nimue onto the bare back of her horse. What need she of saddle and reins when she had only to compel?

When I looked up, her eyes bored into mine. She smiled. “Did you think I never
saw
this day?” she asked. “Never
saw
its ending? This”—she gestured at everything about her—“is as nothing compared to the future still to be.”

As she cantered away, my knees buckled and I would have fallen had not Marrok borne me up. Then he was thrusting me unceremoniously into Gareth’s arms.

With a gentle thumb, Marrok brushed away my tears. “Have faith in me yet,” he bade.

He shifted then, well and truly into his wolf, before me and Gareth, Ironside, fifty knights and their men.

I clung to Gareth. “Stop him,” I begged.

“No,” Gareth said.

“You don’t
know
what I do. If he challenges Nimue…”

“He won’t.” Gareth turned me in his arms. “Look.”

The wolf was here still, not fled after Nimue as I had feared, but casting about where the man who’d held Nessie had stood before they’d been swallowed from my view. The wolf might not know the scent of the man who’d carried Nessie away, but circling out, he’d easily catch the scent of the only man, or men, who’d left the grounds that day.

In fact, Gareth and I had only reached our horses when the wolf yipped his alert that he had found the trail, and we were off after him, his howls leading us on. Ironside followed on his red steed and as others of his men found their mounts they followed, too, till the woods we rode jangled with the sound of a small army.

Bent on rescuing Nessie, I wondered, or just hoping for another impure peek at her most lovely self?

We had traveled but a league when, with a snarl, the wolf leapt in front of our horses, snapping at their noses.

They shied even as Gareth and I hauled on their reins.

Just ahead, the forest floor fell away, down a rock-faced cliff. By the time we steadied our nervous horses, the wolf was standing at the edge.

Dismounting, we cautiously approached the wolf, not knowing his current temper. He whined as we neared, staring intently down the cliffside.

On a ledge below, with only a stony trail leading away, Nessie crouched. Alone. Her back against the stone wall and a sheer drop not three paces before her.

“Nessie!” I called down. “Nessie, hold on. We’re coming!”

“No! I’m not going back. Not to
that
!” She was terrified. And when she stood and took a step toward the cliff’s edge, I knew terror too.

Marrok clawed at the rock lip in frustration.

“I’ll go down,” Gareth said. “Hold her till Ironside and his men arrive.”

He would have slid down the rock face to her if I had not put up a hand to stop him. “We can’t risk her jumping,” I pleaded.

“Why jump if we’re here to rescue her?”

I didn’t need Sight to know. Just a sister’s bond. “She doesn’t know us. Doesn’t know we mean salvation.”

“Has Nimue—?”

I shook my head. “Not compelled. Just abused, and frightened, and hiding in a world inside her head. Any man—any woman—will only be pain to her.” I blanched and looked behind. “Oh God, the others…”

The jangle of reins grew loud. If Nessie were crowded…

“Talk to her. Soothe her fears,” Gareth said. “I’ll hold them back.” He squeezed my shoulder in assurance before turning away.

When I looked back down, the wolf was gone.

The beast’s mind could be a peculiar thing. As I followed Nessie’s scent down the rocky trail that wound away from Lyn, the wolf focused only on one thought—that any
man
or
woman
would frighten Nessie more. That a wolf might drive her off the cliff in terror never crossed its simple mind.

At the bottom of the trail where it led onto the ledge I paused. Above, in the distance, I heard a beloved voice crying, “Hold!” followed by the shuffle of confused hooves as the retinue of knights halted mid-gallop.

Right above, another beloved voice shouted my name in horror. “Marrok!”

I winced at the harsh tone, but Nessie stood at the edge of the cliff now. Fear and sorrow mingled in the smell of her sweat. And over all, the predator caught the sweet hint of resignation that signaled the surrender of its prey.

Nessie would jump, of that there was no doubt. One last brave and foolish act that would see her dead. There was naught I could do to make things worse.

Dropping to my belly, making myself as low as possible, I crawled to her, whining as I went. A supplicant currying her charity.

Above me, Gareth joined Lyn, an arm curling about her waist as they watched the drama below.

I stopped when I reached her, my front legs outstretched, paws almost nudging her unslippered feet. A dislodged pebble plinked its way down, falling the height of a good ten men.

Rising slowly, keeping my head low, I leaned gently against her near leg, my fur soft and slightly bristled against her smooth skin.

She froze at the touch—until realizing it was no human hand taking unsought liberties. She shifted a corner of her gaze from the cliff’s edge to me.

I perked my ears and wagged my tail. No fit behavior for a pack leader, but my wolf was playing to an endgame and proving it could adapt…if the reward were great enough. That Lyn and Gareth both wanted this lady alive was inspiration in itself. That the man desired her…safety…meant the wolf was as committed as they.

The man, indeed, desired much more, looking up the naked length of her from my ankle view. She was thin from a fortnight of refusing food, but not so thin the curves and swells and dark hollows of her exquisite body didn’t entice, sparked especially by the wolf’s raw passions. But now wasn’t the time for such thoughts. And given her recent history, it would be a long time, if ever, before she would be ready to entertain such desires herself.

For her, I could gladly wait.

But first, she had to be saved.

Lifting my head, I nosed her hand, nudging it till it rested over my ears. Tentatively her fingers massaged them. I whined my encouragement, wolf and man together recognizing that seducing her from the cliff meant seducing her to the wolf. And seduction was a game wolf and man both understood quite well.

I turned my nose into her hand, my long tongue wrapping around each of her slender fingers in turn. I tickled her palm briefly, then moved to the wrist, licking the sensitive skin with gentle strokes.