“It was passable.”
Solara frowned and held her hand against Noele’s breast. “I feel your heart, and it lies to me, sister.
Now tell us the truth.”
Noele struggled to sit up, wiping the weariness from her eyes. Had she only just fallen asleep? She could swear she slept not a wink last eve, her mind occupied with worry about her future. Worry, and a desire so thick it seemed to spread over the very air she breathed.
“Very well. It was beyond description. He was magnificent. A warrior, a lover, he pleased me in more ways than I could ever describe.”
Her sisters screamed with delight, hugging her and pulling her from the bed. She extended her wings and stretched, fluttering toward the fire for warmth.
Isolde brought them the morning meal, and Noele was surprised to discover her appetite had returned.
As they ate, she told her sisters of the rite of inspection last eve.
Trista’s eyes widened. “And Roarke stroked himself while watching the two of you?”
“Yes.”
“And what of Roarke? Is he as pleasurable as Garick?” Elise asked.
“Roarke is very male. Although I could not view his entire body, his cock is equally as impressive as Garick’s.” Just the thought of last night had her moistening with arousal. She both anticipated and dreaded the evening of her nuptials.
She would definitely look forward to sharing herself in the elvin custom of consummation, knowing it would be like nothing she’d ever before experienced. But what would come after—that her entire being objected to with vehement denial. Unfounded irritation at Garick pricked at her, and she forced the thoughts aside.
“And what of Garick’s prowess?” Mina asked. “Do the stories of the elvin males hold true?” Noele laughed. “I do not know everything. But yes, his tongue is very talented.”
“As is Roarke’s, I’m certain,” Elise added with a laugh.
Solara remained silent, staring into the fire. Noele leaned over the chaise and touched her sister’s hand.
“What is wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“You are silent.”
“I am pondering.”
“Yes, pondering how she can be the one to fuck Roarke,” Trista said with a laugh. Elise and Mina smothered their snickers behind their hands.
Solara turned her sharp gaze on Trista. “I was thinking no such thing!” She stood and fluttered about the room, settling at the window and gazing outside.
“She is quite taken with Roarke,” Trista whispered to Noele.
Taken, indeed. Solara’s pheromones had shot from her essence when Roarke laid his forehead upon her yesterday. Never before had Noele witnessed her sister have such a strong reaction to a man.
She dismissed Isolde and her other sisters from the room, intending to speak to Solara privately.
“What plagues you, Solara?” she asked, trying not to hover too close to her sister.
“Nothing plagues me. I miss D’Naath.”
Misery clenched her middle, causing physical pain. “I know. I do, as well. I will always miss our home.
You, at least, will be returning soon.”
“My destiny is the same as yours, Noele. I, too, will be leaving our home soon, only traveling south.
Further from D’Naath, further from you.”
Noele flew to her sister and pulled her into her arms. Red-flecked tears rolled down Solara’s face. She swiped at them and held her sister’s hands. “I know. But we have known all our lives that this day would eventually come. It is our destiny.”
“Destiny be damned. I wish to make my own choices.” Noele’s heart ached at her sister’s pain. Yet, she was surprised. Solara had never indicated her feelings about her betrothal to the southern elvin king. “You do not wish to marry him?”
“I do not wish to marry anyone not of my own choosing. Why must we do this, Noele? Why must we give up our freedoms to become slaves to men we’ve never even met?”
“Because it is our duty.” And one that Noele had conveniently chosen to ignore for most of her life. Until just recently, when she knew what was to come. But she’d never complained to her sisters of her fate, had never let them see how much it disturbed her to be taken away from the land she loved.
“Bah!” Solara moved away and sat in front of the hearth. The flames cast a burnished light against her wings, making them appear as if they, too, were on fire.
Solara’s sadness emanated from her being. Noele sat with her, loath to admit she felt the same way.
“I know it seems unfair, but we must do what has been preordained. It is the faerie way.” The words rang empty in Noele’s heart, even as she said them aloud.
Turning pained eyes to her sister, Solara said, “I know. I am sorry. Here it is the day before your wedding and I am only concerned with myself. Forgive me, sister.” She laid Solara’s head on her shoulder and petted her wings. “There is nothing to forgive. We have always spoken honestly with each other.”
“Have you ever considered what would happen if you wanted a man other than the one chosen for you?”
Solara’s question surprised Noele. “No. Then again, I have never been interested enough in a man to wonder.” She raised Solara’s head and searched her face. “Why? Is there someone for you?”
“No. Maybe. I don’t know. I just…there was…something. Something I have never felt before.”
“With Roarke.” They had all experienced Solara’s reaction to Roarke.
“Yes. He frightens me. The way my body responds to him frightens me. And yet, it is more exciting than anything I have ever known.”
“You realize that nothing can happen with the two of you. You must remain untouched by a man. You are betrothed, body and soul, to the southern king.”
“Aye, I know. Roarke would not be interested in me, anyway.” Solara laid her head back on Noele’s shoulder.
This was quite unusual behavior for her sister, who had never showed interest in a particular man. Noele had always thought it was because of Solara’s own destiny, knowing she was betrothed to the king of the southern lands. She’d had no idea her sister felt this way.
In many ways, it mirrored her own feelings. Marriage to a man she had never met, did not know, and may not even spend the rest of her life with.
No wonder Solara did not look forward to her wedding. When Solara married, would Garick allow her to attend and support her sister?
So many unanswered questions. She wished this ritual were over so she knew what her fate would be.
Would she stay forever at Garick’s side? Or would she be given away like nothing more than one of the elvins’ horses?
Only Garick knew the answers to her questions. Like it or not, it was the way of her life. She had no choices, could make no decisions. She would simply have to bide her time until after the wedding.
* * * * *
Today they prepared their weaponry and fighting skills, combining elvin magic and superior strength. It would take all their powers, both mystical and physical, to defeat the wizards intent on taking over their land.
Garick had spent his life training for this. His father had pounded duty into his head from the moment he could understand language. This was his destiny.
Swords clanged in the courtyard, the sounds of steel against steel echoing off the stone walls. Early morning mist rose above them like smoke from a woodland fire, chilling the air.
An attack could come at any time. Insidious and quiet like a snake in the night, or full-on barrage at the gates by the light of day. One never knew what the wizards planned. Either way, his people would be ready.
“They are well prepared,” Roarke pronounced, nodding his head to the captain of the guards. The captain raised his hand and ended the training.
“But will it be enough?”
Roarke frowned. “You doubt we have the strength to defeat them?” He shrugged. “Their magic is very strong. Wizard attacks are borne of cunning and deception. We have lost several of our people in the night hours, and in unusual ways, as you well know. Our people do not simply vanish without a trace.”
“Aye, but you can bet it was the wizards’ doing. Finding where they hide will be difficult, battling them even more so, but we are prepared. Fear not, Garick, our people will be protected.”
“I worry about tomorrow. The nuptials are a prime opportunity for the wizards. People will let their guard down during the celebrations.” If he had his way, this marriage to the faerie princess would not be taking place tomorrow. Too many rites and customs, too many chances for a mistake to happen. One mistake and Winterland could suffer devastating consequences.
“I will not let my guard down, and neither will your warriors.” Roarke clasped Garick on the forearm, his steely strength evident. “I will keep my eyes and ears open. I will protect our people.” Garick offered a half smile. “You will also be occupied elsewhere tomorrow eve.” Roarke arched a brow. “Does this concern you, my king?”
“Yes, it does. I worry about attack. I’ve already told you—”
“That is not what I meant. I’m referring to your princess and my role in the rites of marriage.”
“You think me jealous? By all that’s magical, Roarke, that’s ridiculous. You and I have shared many women through the years. Why would this be any different?”
“Because this particular woman will be your wife, your queen. And because you feel a connection to her.”
Garick refused to even consider Roarke’s statement. “I have no connection to her. I feel nothing for her.”
“You lie. We are linked, you and I. Have been since our youth. I know what you think, I feel what you feel. Your emotions where the faerie princess are concerned run deep, despite your protest to the contrary.”
Garick ignored Roarke’s comments and turned toward the great hall, intent on breakfasting with his warriors. Roarke followed silently.
Feeling the need to explain what Roarke might have felt, Garick said, “I think you are confused. My emotions are mixed because I worry about our people, about what would happen if the wizards invade during the ceremony. If I feel anything for Noele it is irritation that this event even has to take place right now. It is such foolishness.”
“I think you are trying to deny to yourself that your intended bride sparked something within you. It is no shame to feel emotion, Garick.”
“Very little point in it, in my opinion. You have known for years that what I will do as far as marriage has nothing to do with emotions and feelings for a woman, and everything to do with what has been destined since my birth.”
He had no choice. Marrying Noele was his destiny, his duty. And he always did his duty.
They sat at the head table and ate with the other warriors. Garick glanced around, filled with pride at the sight of his men. So well trained, so devoted to their people. They would lay down their lives to protect Winterland. These men, along with the rest of his people, had to be his focus, not the wee faerie with eyes like a blue snowflake and skin like the winter snow. He couldn’t afford to be distracted.
Noele was a distraction. No doubt he would claim his right and turn her over to Roarke after their consummation night. What use did he have for a wife, for children? Any children born of Noele and Roarke would be his heirs to claim, would continue his lineage. Noele would still be Queen of Winterland and her people would be protected. She simply would not reign at his side.
Yet the thought of Roarke lying with Noele every night, the thought of her sweet mouth taking in Roarke’s swollen cock and pleasuring him the way she had pleasured him last night, filled him with a red haze that nearly blinded him.
“You see? You do feel for this faerie. Your emotions are transparent to me, my friend.”
“Get out of my head, Roarke.”
“I assure you, I hold no claim on her. She does not have a magical effect on me as she does on you.”
“She has no magic.”
“For you, she does.”
Garick went silent, refusing to lend credence to Roarke’s comments.
“I will do my duty to both you and her on consummation eve, Garick. And that is all.”
“What will happen will happen. We will see on consummation eve. But my mind is made up. I have no use for a wife.”
Roarke sighed and left the table, claiming he had much work to do.
Garick had much to do today, also. But not what he should be doing. Today, he would have to put aside thoughts of battle and preparations, and spend the day with his bride-to-be.
What ridiculous customs. He had no time for lolling around a meadow with Noele and touring her through Winterland. What would they talk of? They had nothing in common. She was faerie and he was an elvin warrior. She would not understand his drives, his ambitions. She would not appreciate his duties, his desire to protect his people.
Faerie only thought of pleasurable things. From what he understood of their lives, they spent days frolicking in the meadow and doing other useless tasks.
So why did the thought of being alone with Noele cause his cock to stir? Why did his mind torment him with visions of silver-tipped nipples and long legs?
Garick clenched his hands into fists, frustrated by the feelings coursing through him.
He stood, drained the last of the mead and slammed his empty goblet onto the table. He stormed from the room, intent on taking out his frustrations by beating Roarke soundly in a game of swordplay.
Feelings! He did not have feelings!
Noele dressed, her stomach tied in knots at the thought of seeing Garick again.
Today he was required to show her Winterland. They would spend the day together, alone. By custom, he was to present a marriage gift to her. Then, they would share the midday meal. After that, they would not be allowed to see each other until the marriage ceremony tomorrow.
She smoothed her dress against her legs, trying to still her shaking. After her conversation with Solara today, she was plagued with more doubts than ever. Always the strong one, Noele had found it difficult to reassure her sister, when her own fate hung on the decision of the elvin king.
No, it did not make her happy to realize she could not choose her own mate. And yet, the thought of lying with Garick did not displease her. Nay, on the contrary, her body remained stimulated and aroused as she thought of last eve’s events.