An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

All the King’s Men

ISBN 9781419911927
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
All the King’s Men Copyright © 2007 Lacey Savage

Edited by Mary Moran.

Cover art by Syneca.

Electronic book Publication August 2007

This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher,
Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The
characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
ALL THE KING’S MEN

Lacey Savage
 King of Wands

Dear Reader,
Sometimes story ideas mesh into a coherent, wonderfully flowing manuscript. And at other times
they come to us like a never-ending stream of chaotic inspiration. Such was the case for me when I
wrote All The King’s Men.
From the beginning, I knew the opportunity to contribute a book to the Torrid Tarot series was
perfectly suited for my creative style. After all, I’m the girl who wouldn’t dare start any writing
project without one—or all!—of my seven trusty Tarot decks nearby.
With so many cards available, choosing the right card was a challenge. Not trusting myself to
make such a decision alone, I let my Shapeshifter Tarot deck guide me. After shuffling, the King of
Wands was the first card I drew. To my delight, the card was unclaimed.
I instantly knew I wanted to write a hero who represented the fundamental qualities of the King of
Wands—wild passion, strong nobility, haste and impulsiveness. What I didn’t expect was for the
entire book to take on those same traits.
Kirel Turion is exactly as I’d originally envisioned him—reckless, in pursuit of goals that are
sometimes irrational but always impassioned, a man who is dominated by powerful, ardent emotions.
This is a hero who, when he loves, loves absolute. He’s a guy who accepts a challenge and fights
with his last breath until the ultimate prize is nestled in his arms.
As I wrote, All The King’s Men began to mold itself after Kirel. The novel you’ll be reading is
passionate and fiery. It’s a book that demanded to be told a certain way or not at all. I’d like to tell
you writing it came easily, but it often felt like a battle of wills. At times I thought I could literally
feel the heat emanating from my computer monitor. Unnervingly, that blazing warmth also lingered
when I printed out the pages.
I give my all to every book I write. All The King’s Men, however, has claimed a piece of my heart
I fear I’ll never get back. It forever belongs to Kirel…and to Nelina. If I can’t have him, I can’t think
of anyone better suited for such a highly charged, intense man.
If you have your very own King of Wands at home, surprise him with an extra special treat after
you finish reading All The King’s Men. And if you haven’t found him yet, keep looking. I promise he’s
out there…searching for you with that same single-minded intensity that we desire in all our heroes—
whether in the pages of our books or in our bedrooms.
Happy reading.
Lacey Savage
 Prologue

“Tell me you love me.”

A fiercely masculine chuckle slid through the tidy room on the top floor of the Shadow’s Fortune
inn. The deep, resonant timbre of the man’s voice warmed the air as though the strength of the sound
alone could keep the chill slithering through the wood shutters at bay.
“Tell me,” Nelina Lannen insisted, threading her fingers through her lover’s hair.
Kirel growled his refusal low in his throat. It rumbled through Nelina as she held him to her, his
head pillowed on her breasts. His solid form pressed her deep into the feather mattress, but she didn’t
care that having him slumped on top of her made it hard to breathe. She drifted on a cloud of
euphoria, her inner walls still fluttering from the intensity of her orgasm.
“I’ve told you a thousand times. Are you sure you don’t want to hear something else instead?” He
lifted his head and stared into her eyes, his brows drawing over the bridge of his nose in a mock
frown. “I could list the million reasons why I can’t get enough of your soft, moist, fragrant…breakfast
pastries,” he finished with a wry grin.
Nelina smacked his shoulder playfully. “As delicious as my breakfast pastries are, your fondness
for them isn’t what interests me at the moment.”
“No?” Kirel ground his hips against hers, pressing the tip of his semierect cock against her soaked
labia. “Then maybe you’d care to have me tell you how much I adore the way your thighs squeeze my
waist when I’m inside you. Or how the sight of this little birthmark makes the breath catch in my
throat every time you show me your beautiful breasts.” He punctuated the remark by tracing a delicate
circle around the deep crimson crescent-shaped mark that marred the pale skin of her right breast, just
above her nipple.
A delightful tremor ran through Nelina’s veins. She arched her back and her nipples stiffened to
tight little aching nubs. Kirel swept the tip of his tongue around one of the hard buds, drawing it
between his teeth. He tugged on the tender skin gently, almost reverently, before sucking the faint sting
of pain away by fitting his mouth tightly to her small areola.
“Say it.” The command came out on a gasp.
He ignored her. The sensual licks and nibbles continued, driving Nelina to the brink of insanity.
Kirel’s cock had hardened again, nestling perfectly in the crevice of her tender slit. They’d made love
twice already that night but he was insatiable.
Luckily, so was she.
Sliding her hand between them, she grabbed his shaft and closed her fist around it. Kirel groaned,
the sound sending another tremor through her body.
“You want to fuck me?” she asked, imbuing her voice with the sweetest tone she could muster.
Kirel released her nipple with a loud pop. He took his time answering, blowing a breath of cool
air over her wet skin. His cock pulsed in her hand, sleek and hot and hard. “You know I do.”
She tilted her head, a triumphant smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Then say it.”
 He pretended to consider her request. His teeth embedded in his lower lip and he stared at the
ceiling, eyes narrowed in thought. The look on his handsome features was so absurd she almost
laughed and ended the game.
When he grabbed her hips with both palms and jerked his cock from her hand to slide into her
pussy with effortless grace, Nelina cried out in frustration. “No fair,” she said, but by then it was too
late to dissuade him from his course of action.
Her cunt ached from their earlier lovemaking, but his thrusts were so slow and gentle that her
inner muscles quickly adjusted to his thick girth. Heat spread outward from her clit, settling low in
her stomach.
Kirel gripped her chin between his fingers, forcing her gaze to his. She closed her eyes and blew
out a breath, stirring the lock of brown hair that dipped over his forehead.
“Hey,” he said. “Look at me.”
She did as he requested, her lower lip jutting out in a slight pout. His smile took her breath away.
It was broad, genuine and slightly crooked, giving his masculine face a boyish, irresistible appeal.
“I love you,” he whispered before lowering his head to kiss her.
Nelina moaned. She slid her arms around him and held him close, meeting the rhythm he set with
slow, circular motions of her hips. He traced her lips with the tip of his tongue, setting every nerve
ending in her body on edge.
Before Kirel had walked into her life, she’d never known making love to a man could feel this
way. She’d had lovers before and sex had been pleasurable enough, but it had also been routine.
There was nothing formulaic about Kirel. He did everything as though this act were his last, with
a raw, sensual energy that heated her blood. From the way he teased her mercilessly to the way he
held her tenderly curled up against him as she slept, he seemed to know just what she needed, exactly
when she needed it. He was ravenous, his sexual hunger feeding the deep waves of lust that had
always lived inside her but had never been fully indulged.
In his arms, she felt beautiful and sexy. And loved.
He pulled his cock out of her almost in its entirety before sliding it back inside her cunt. The
deliberate pace tormented her. A sensual heat started between her legs and spread outward, causing
goose bumps to break out over her skin.
“Faster.” The word was lost inside his mouth.
With meticulous purpose, he quickened his motions one thrust at a time. His strokes grew frenzied
as he pounded her pussy incessantly, gliding inside her, completing her.
Nelina’s thoughts swam on a sea of lust. She scraped her nails over his broad back, knowing she
was leaving deep red imprints on his tanned skin but unable to stop the instinctive action.
Her muscles tensed and began to quiver. The orgasm tore through her so rapidly it stole her
breath. She rode the climax on a gasp of shock, her tight channel squeezing down on Kirel’s cock and
bringing him over the edge with her.
He screamed her name as his hot seed soaked her pussy, mixing with the cum already there. The
bed sheets were soaked with their mutual pleasure. Cream dripped from her labia.
When a second orgasm unexpectedly tore through her, she joined his fevered, passionate cries.
For a moment, the keening sound of their pleasure masked the crack of wood as the door to Nelina’s
room burst inward.
 The fog clouding her brain lingered but her heart thudded painfully in her chest. She gripped Kirel
tighter even as the sinking knowledge that her bliss was at an end slid through her.
“Playtime’s over. You’re coming with us.”
Nelina glanced over Kirel’s shoulder toward the door and took in the two uniformed men who’d
stormed into her bedroom. She recognized them by the traditional garb they wore. The skella, a form-
fitting black garment that covered each man’s lean, muscular body from head to toe, was worn
exclusively by those in the king’s personal guard. His Guardians.
Only a narrow strip of skin showed around their eyes, just large enough to allow them to see
through. Not a hint of color marred their identical ensembles. Even the long knives they wore in plain
sight looked alike, slung low over the right side of their hips, their ebony hilts glistening in the pale
lamplight.
One of the men stepped forward and wrenched Kirel away from Nelina. She cried out in protest
as his cock was jerked from her pussy, leaving a gaping emptiness in its wake.
Kirel’s features darkened. When he spoke, his voice was filled with a level of raw determination
she’d never before heard him use. “If he wants me, he’s going to have to come and get me himself.”
He didn’t give the king’s men a chance to reply. Abruptly he jerked out of the Guardian’s grasp
and leapt off the bed. Fury imbued his good looks with a feral grace. His nudity didn’t seem to hinder
him in the least as he lunged, fist leading the way. His knuckles connected with the man’s jaw, sending
him sprawling backward.
For a brief, heart-stopping second, hope surged in Nelina’s chest. Then the other man rushed in to
assist his companion. In the blink of an eye they’d turned the tables, putting Kirel on the losing end of
a fevered battle.
Anger blurred Nelina’s vision. Her body still hummed from the onslaught of pleasure but
adrenaline filled her veins. She jumped from the bed, reached for the oil-filled lamp at her bedside
and slammed it against the first black-covered head she saw.
The room was plunged into darkness. Outside, the storm howled its fury, masking even the tri-
colored light of the moons.
A stream of obscenities rang out from somewhere close to her. Something sharp—an elbow
perhaps—struck her jaw hard enough to send her teetering backward.
She stumbled, fought to keep her balance, and lost. She smacked the edge of the wooden
nightstand with the back of her head, the blow adding a sharp jolt of agony to the lingering pain in her
jaw.
Kirel screamed her name.
True blackness crept in around the edges of Nelina’s consciousness, beckoning to her. Suddenly
she was tired…so tired. Her eyes drifted closed.
“I love you!”
Kirel’s parting scream echoed in her ears as though from very far away. She passed out with the
comforting phrase still ringing through her mind.
 Chapter One

The royal seer’s soft footfalls fell silently on the marble floor of Waldemar Castle as she crossed
the main foyer to reach the stairs leading up to the east tower. Although the place teemed with people,
all but the most cunning of courtesans gave the woman wide berth. For her part, she ignored them all,
even those who respectfully bowed as she walked past them. Today she had more important business
to attend to.
Beneath the supple soles of her shoes, the mosaic on the floor of the main foyer depicted an ebony
crown overlaid on top of a shimmering spacecraft. As she stepped in the middle of the elaborate
design, the image shifted. A brief flash of light preceded a soundless burst. The representation of the
spacecraft shattered and the pieces of the mosaic reassembled into a crown that now looked twice as
large as it previously had. It flickered and glowed, sending a low, throbbing pulse through the
foundation of the castle.
Vida cast a cursory glance at the shifting pattern. She’d seen it a hundred times, but it never failed
to stir a shiver of restlessness inside her. Even here, deep in the heart of the king’s home where no
one would dare disobey the edicts that had been passed down for generations, the message was clear.
Although the inhabitants of Aris acknowledged the technological might of the rest of the universe and
could even keep up with modern advancements if they chose, only one force governed their planet.
And that force would never cater to the influence of lifeless machines.
The Tradition had served the people of Aris well for countless millennia. Rooted in ancestral
superstition and the ancient belief in magic, it impacted every aspect of Arisian life. Yet of all the
directives laid down by the Fates who governed the Tradition, none were stronger or more important
than those regulating the king’s mating ritual.
Vida quickened her step as much as her loose flowing skirts would allow. Any faster and she’d
trip over the hem that brushed the surface of the floor. Any slower and she’d be late.
She hurried up the gently curving steps leading to her tower, her breath coming in harsher gasps at
every landing. Her apprentice Moreeya had been trying to convince her to move her chambers to a
lower level for the past year, but Vida refused. There was power to be drawn from the sky and she
wanted to be as close to it as possible when she called upon the Tradition to guide her hand.
On the seventh landing, she pushed open a heavy wooden door and stepped inside a narrow
pathway that led into a circular chamber. Windows flanked the room from all sides as well as from
the top, opening the room to as much natural beauty as the cosmos offered. Tonight, brilliant stars
winked like fireflies against the midnight velvet and the tri-colored moons of Aris shone down upon
the tower, casting a green, blue and red sheen through the thick panes of glass.
“Mistress,” Moreeya said, dropping into a low bow when she saw Vida. “Let me take your cape.”
Vida shrugged out of the heavy garment and handed it to her apprentice. “Is everything prepared?”
A blush crept up Moreeya’s cheeks, deepening her dusky skin to a dewy wine color. Her wide
green eyes shone with barely contained excitement. “Everything is exactly as you instructed.”
“Did you have any trouble gathering all the ingredients I asked for?”
 Moreeya swept a hand out in the direction of a rectangular table of dark polished wood. “The
cherries were a bit of a hassle this late in the season, but no, mistress. The merchants in town were
more than eager to contribute in some small way to the king’s future.”
“And the rest? The nut butter and ambrosia? The honey cake? You didn’t forget anything, did
you?”
Moreeya staggered to a halt, her hand pressed to her chest. “Mistress! I’d never fail you. I know
how important this is. If the Tradition doesn’t answer your call this time—”
“All of Aris will suffer the consequences,” Vida finished for her. The seer blew out a deep breath
on a shuddering sigh. “I don’t know why the Tradition hasn’t granted Shivar a new mate. But I do
know that without an heir, the royal line ends with him.”
She scrubbed a hand over her face. Weariness settled deep in her bones, sending a dull ache to
pound through her body. She’d been calling on the Tradition for almost a decade now, always on the
night of the full moons as custom dictated. Each time she dealt the cards, she prayed this time would
be different even as a part of her fiercely hoped the Fates would once again remain silent.
Vida licked her suddenly dry lips. Perhaps that’s why the Tradition had abandoned them. Her
heart was no longer pure. She didn’t want what was best for Aris. She wanted Shivar by her side and
in her bed. Always.
But she wasn’t his mate. Since the king’s first bride had fallen ill and perished almost twelve
years earlier, Vida had filled the role well enough. But she’d always known that one day the time
would come for a new queen to take her place at Shivar’s side. She held no illusions that it would be
her.
“I’ve prepared everything just as you instructed,” Moreeya said. “The Fates will be pleased.
They’ll answer your call this time. They have to.”
Vida forced a smile onto her features. “No one really understands the whims of the Fates. The
Tradition has guided my hand for centuries. In all that time, the magic has never stayed silent for
longer than a year, two at the most. This is unusual.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “And
dangerous.”
Moreeya looked as if she wanted to say something else but wisely pressed her lips together. She
pulled out a cushioned wooden chair. With a sweep of her hand, Vida declined it. “I prefer to stand. It
allows me to feel the force of the Tradition as it swirls through me.”
Sheaves of parchment had been laid flat on the surface of the table. Vida pushed them aside and
reached for the deck of Tradition cards. She called them Tarot cards as had the seer before her. There
was something magical about the way the word flowed off her tongue, as though merely speaking it
imbued the cards with supernatural abilities.
She shuffled the large deck deftly, passing the cards from one hand to the other while Moreeya lit
long tapered candles that had been placed at exact intervals along the edge of the table. When the
woman finished with the candles, she reached for a wooden bowl and poured a thick, crimson liquid
into it from the mouth of a silver ewer. A sweet, aromatic fragrance drifted upward to imbue the air.
From the corner of her eye, Vida saw Moreeya’s hands shake as she poured. “Relax, child,” she
soothed. “I’m the one performing the ritual tonight. You’ve no reason to worry.”
“The Tradition can choose anyone, can’t it?” Moreeya asked.
Vida swallowed hard and nodded. Almost anyone, she thought, but didn’t give voice to the lance
of self-pity that jabbed through her.
“Royal blood isn’t given preference?”
The seer lifted an eyebrow. “Are you concerned about being chosen or not being chosen?”
The girl’s soft chuckle echoed pleasantly through the chamber. Though she’d turned twenty-one the
previous summer, innocence radiated from her being, making her seem younger. “While I was
growing up, the older girls in the village assembled each night of the full moons. I saw them once as
they stood in a circle, the wind and dust whipping their naked bodies until their skin turned red and
raw. They held hands and chanted prayers, hoping one of them would be blessed to be the king’s
mate.”
“Superstitious nonsense.” Vida’s lips thinned as she shuffled.
Moreeya ducked her head. Her mass of black hair swept downward to hide her face. “Yes,
mistress,” she whispered.
A pang of regret settled deep in Vida’s chest. It wasn’t the girl’s fault that she, like every other
woman on Aris, wanted to claim the empty throne at the king’s right hand. And the empty spot in his
bed.
Almost empty, a taunting voice reminded Vida. It’s still yours…for now.
“The spread now please,” Vida requested as gently as she could.
Moreeya did as she was told, grabbing three pieces of chalk and drawing rectangular outlines
over the surface of the table in the colors of the moons. When the design was complete, Moreeya
reached for a bowl of cherries and tossed the perfumed fruit among the rectangles. A bowl of nut
butter sat in the center of the table. Bits of honey cake and slivers of ambrosia lay scattered among the
chalk design.
As before, the required ingredients had come to Vida in a dream. She’d never questioned them in
the past, having recognized each for what it was—an item chosen specifically because the king
favored it.
This time was different and the knowledge frightened her. The nut butter was easy enough to
identify as one of Shivar’s guilty indulgences. Her cheeks warmed at the memory of his skilled hands
spreading the gooey mixture over her pebbled nipples then lowering his head to lick the sweet treat
and suckle the hardened buds into his mouth.
But the cherries, honey cake and ambrosia were a mystery. She’d never seen Shivar delight in any
of those. Oh he nibbled on a honey pastry at breakfast from time to time, but she knew him well
enough to be certain he’d never count the saccharine treat among his favorites.
If she’d been more certain of her powers and the Tradition’s faith in her, she might have
questioned the added ingredients. As it was, she’d decided to trust in the Tradition’s guiding hand.
Every item on the table would add to the power of the Tarot reading, though clearly the components
that connected directly with the king would be most useful.
A trickle of awareness shivered up her spine. Excitement surged within her, blending with the
anxiety knotting her stomach. Magic rippled and undulated, an unseen force shimmering through the
air, enveloping her in the heady musk of power.
Vida quivered inside, but her hands never stilled their motions. She feared even to breathe in case
the Tradition pulled away, abandoning the people of Aris yet again.
The cards flowed smoothly from one palm to the other until a sudden jolt of energy halted her
movements.
“Move aside.” She barely recognized the hoarse voice as her own. “The Fates have elected to
speak.”
Moreeya stepped backward a few paces. She wrung her hands in front of her chest, her brow
creased with worry.
Tears stung Vida’s eyes. She blinked rapidly, trying desperately to hang on to the quivering threads
of magic. Everything would change after tonight. Shivar’s life and the life of his chosen would never
be the same.
Neither would Vida’s.
A thick book lay open on a stand beside the table, but Vida didn’t need it. A low, throbbing hush
settled over the room. The shroud of ancestral magic guided Vida’s hands. She dealt the cards face up
on the squares Moreeya had drawn.
The images on the cards shimmered and came to life as they drew energy from the items around
them. A swirling cloud of red mist rose from the bowl holding the liquid. It glided over the surface of
the table, swirled around the bowl of nut butter, dipped down over the honey cake and ambrosia then
finally spread over the cherries where it lingered, glimmering bright.
Vida forced herself to glance down at the spread she’d dealt.
The first ten cards symbolized Shivar Waldemar’s past and his present. The magic radiated
through each one, telling a lifetime’s worth of stories. Vida knew them all.
Her heartbeat quickened as she neared the end of the spread. Only two cards remained.
She flipped one over and placed it in the middle, just below the bowl of nut butter. The King of
Wands sat proudly upon a golden throne. A salamander twined around the scepter he held in one hand.
His crown perched low on his forehead, almost touching his brow. He stared at Vida with wide,
questioning blue eyes.
The seer nearly stumbled. Today, the King of Wands was the spitting image of Shivar. In the past,
it had looked like a lifeless representation of a paper king, a man who didn’t exist and never would.
The room spun around her. She gritted her teeth. The cards shimmered in her blurred, tear-filled
vision.
She lifted the last card and prepared to let it drop when a sudden movement from the King of
Wands caught her eye. As she watched in horror and fascination, three more men separated from
within Shivar and lifted themselves off the backing of the card.
They stood rigidly, their holographic forms shimmering in the air. A slight squeak escaped
Moreeya’s lips, sounding impossibly loud in the hushed room.
All three men wore the uniform of the king’s Guardians. Black skellas hugged their lean forms to
perfection, showing off every inch of powerful muscle that pulsed beneath the fabric. As one, they
crossed their arms over their chests and glared at Vida almost defiantly. Their purpose was clear.
They were there to protect Shivar from Vida and anyone else who might wish him harm.
Like his mate?
Her throat closed up. A tear escaped to slide down her cheek. Wiping it away with the back of her
hand, Vida swore low under her breath.
The card she still held in her hand began to pulse with an electric force that traveled up the length
of her arm. The tingling shock shook her to her very core.
 When it landed, she saw that this card didn’t represent any of the seventy-eight suited Arcana,
neither major nor minor. Instead of another holographic image, a crystal-clear picture formed sleekly
on its surface.
Vida’s heart shattered into a million pieces.
The woman was stunning. Framed in a wild mass of chestnut-brown hair, her face was at once
exotic and familiar, sensual and delicate. But it was the sadness in her sapphire blue gaze that
knocked Vida’s breath from her lungs. Aris’ future queen stared up through the glossy sheen of the
card with such agony etched on her features that Vida nearly staggered.
Although Vida barely managed to keep her composure, one of the Guardians didn’t fare so well.
He broke away from the other men and collapsed to his knees alongside the card, reaching out for the
future queen. The woman looked right through him as though she had no idea he was there.
Nelina Lannen is meant for the king. The new king. See to it that the mating tests occur in a
week. And Vida? We’ve watched over you for centuries. When this is over, your duty to us will have
come to an end. You’ll be free to live the rest of your mortal life any way you wish. We don’t need
to remind you what’s at stake—for you, and for Aris. Don’t disappoint us.
The words fluttered through Vida’s mind on a whispering breeze, spoken by a lilting female voice.
A heartbeat later, the magic suffusing the room dissipated so abruptly that the seer swayed on her feet.
She reached out to steady herself by gripping the edge of the table and closed her eyes, waiting for the
bout of nausea that roiled in her stomach to pass.
When she opened them, the Guardians were gone and the cards lay motionless. The images that
decorated the surface of each card remained dormant. Even the King of Wands now rested on his card
as still as any other drawing. He no longer looked anything like Shivar.
A sigh of relief slid out between her parted lips before she could stop it. The tears she’d almost
managed to keep at bay slipped out unheeded now, spilling over her cheeks and trickling down her
neck, into the valley between her breasts.
“Let the king know I need to see him. And tell him to gather his men,” Vida managed to utter when
she could catch her breath. She swept impatiently at the tears that stubbornly continued to flow.
“Wake them all if you have to. This can’t wait.”
 Chapter Two

Gods, he thought this day would never end.

Kirel Turion stretched his arms over his head, feeling the sore muscles in his back languidly
extend and ripple as the pent-up stress of the day began to slowly ebb. He’d risen before the sun had
come up. The king had scheduled an endless array of meetings with the Royal Council, followed by
more meetings with various leaders of alien planets, all of which had to be carefully monitored at all
times.
By far the most tense encounter had taken place between the king and the ruler of Aris’ closest
neighbor Zuuvi, a relatively small planet inhabited by the most war-like species Kirel had ever faced.
Their leader, a vicious blue-skinned alien named Dissu, had escalated his demands and insisted that
Aris come to the planet’s aid as it struggled to fight in the intergalactic war it had started over a
decade earlier.
Unlike its neighbors, Aris didn’t build advanced weapons, which left them without the means—or
the inclination—to involve themselves in such a battle. Nevertheless, Dissu insisted that King Shivar
send as many of his men as possible to fill the front battle lines.
Kirel hadn’t put it past the creepy little alien to make an attempt on the king’s life, so he and the
other Guardians had been even more vigilant than usual. None of them had left their posts at Shivar’s
side for more than a few seconds, and even then, remaining Guardians would close in around Shivar,
ready to protect him with their lives if it came to that.
A couple of times it almost had.
Glad to put the day behind him, Kirel stripped out of his skin-tight skella and changed into a light
pair of beige linen pants and a loose brown tunic. Although Nelina’s scent had washed off them long
ago, the old garments brought him a touch of comfort in the late hours of the night. For a short while
they allowed him to wrap himself in old memories and try to forget it was his fault that the only
woman he’d ever love was dead.
He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it disheveled. Restlessness jolted his belly and snaked up
his spine. His instincts kicked in, warning him that something was wrong.
Kirel shook his head to clear it. He tried to convince himself that his agitation came from the
series of ever-escalating threats from the rest of the known universe toward a planet that could barely
defend itself. For years the Royal Council had tried to convince King Shivar to at least consider
building defensive weaponry.
His answer was always the same. “The Tradition rules Aris. The Tradition will protect us.” Kirel
spat out the words he’d heard a million times. The Tradition was a giant pain in the ass.
If it cared about Aris, it would have chosen a new mate for Shivar a long time ago. And it
wouldn’t demand such heavy sacrifices from the people it should be protecting.
Annoyed by the direction his thoughts had taken, Kirel paced the length of his room. He wanted to
think about Nelina and lose himself in dreams of her soft curves, her strong limbs, her sweet cunt.
 Instead, he found himself restlessly traversing his chamber from one wall to the other. Like every
other space in the castle, it was richly decorated with colorful tapestries, plush carpets and gleaming
mahogany tables. Even his bed was gigantic. It sat against the far wall and overshadowed every other
piece of furniture. With its deep blue velvet canopies and fluted columns, it looked as ridiculously
overdone as all the other ornate decorations that surrounded him at all hours of the day and night.
And like everything else, the vast expanse of the luxurious plush mattress only served to remind
him of his solitude and his captivity.
Guardians were chosen even before birth, based on their lineage. Only the first-born sons of the
king’s councilmen—his most loyal servants—could be honored with the position of Guardian. A
legend had been passed down through generations and over time had become a favorite bedtime story
of every Arisian child. The legend told the tale of a farmer named Gwyntham. He was a simple man
who cared greatly for his wife, his three children and his crops. One day, the first king of Aris, King
Junnomere, and his entourage were caught in an unexpected sandstorm and forced to take shelter at
Gwyntham’s farm.
The farmer welcomed the king with open arms, providing him and his men with the full extent of
his hospitality. That night, one of the king’s courtiers who deemed himself worthy of wearing the
crown snuck into the room where Junnomere was sleeping and stabbed him to death.
Only the man he stabbed wasn’t Junnomere at all. During dinner, Gwyntham began to speculate
that the dark currents of jealousy and ambition ran through the king’s men. Before retiring for the
night, Gwyntham had offered to take the king’s place and serve as a decoy. Junnomere hadn’t wanted
to believe any of his men capable of such a heinous act, but he’d indulged the farmer’s whims,
knowing the man’s heart was in the right place.
When the crime was revealed and the traitor apprehended, Junnomere was so overcome with
gratitude that he took Gwyntham’s first-born son under his wing. He raised the child as his own, and
when he turned twenty-three, the royal seer proclaimed him to be the first Guardian, charged with the
duty of watching over the king and putting Junnomere’s life before his own.
In truth, Kirel had no idea how much of that story was true, but it sure made for a good tale. For
centuries Guardians had been chosen, trained and instilled with the basic principles of duty above
pleasure, the king above self. Those simple concepts ruled the men’s lives.
Training began the moment future Guardians could take their first steps. They were taught to read
and write, to reason logically and to fight as if they’d been born with a sword in their hand. In
addition, each man was taught a trade, in case he was never called to active duty. Some of the
Guardians who weren’t immediately required by the current king would be able to live on palace
grounds and carry out a relatively normal existence until they were needed.
Eventually though, they were all needed.
The minimum age of service was twenty-three. On the day of their birthday, those who’d been
chosen to serve immediately would flawlessly step into their roles as the king’s private bodyguards.
Forbidden to leave the castle grounds unless it was to accompany their king, the Guardians lived and
breathed duty. Their obligation lasted twenty years…if they lived that long. Many didn’t.
In return for two decades of dedicated service and complete loyalty, those who survived to see
the age of retirement were granted a small piece of land and given leave to spend the rest of their
days as they wished. Kirel had twelve years left.
Currently, two other Guardians stood alongside Kirel. Thor was the oldest of the Guardians and
as such considered himself a protector of the Guardians themselves. Domenic, on the other hand, had
only been a Guardian for two years. At twenty-five, he was still young enough to see past the
overwhelming sense of duty and take full advantage of the perks that came with the job—particularly
those perks that came with female attention.
Kirel didn’t care for such pursuits. Until his service ended, his life belonged to the king. When he
wasn’t on duty, he was free to roam the castle grounds as he wished. He could take a lover, but the
thought held little appeal. What use would it be to sate his body’s needs in a willing vessel if his
mind and his heart forever belonged to someone else?
He’d heard the rumors being whispered in dark corners of the castle. The servants spoke of the
recluse Guardian. Some called him a narcissistic hermit who preferred his own company over that of
others. Well, so be it. If that kind of gossip allowed him a few hours of peace each night, he’d gladly
allow the insinuations to continue.
Not that he could do much to stop them even if he’d wanted to. The castle seemed to teem with a
life of its own. Driven by its inhabitants’ penchant for scandal, nothing that happened within its walls
remained secret for long.
Releasing a deep breath on a frustrated sigh, Kirel reached for a delicate, green-glazed goblet. It
had been filled with the finest pale pink wine imported from Siccia, a planet located two hundred
light years away from Aris.
Only the best for the king’s men, Kirel thought bitterly. He drained his cup then refilled it from a
pitcher sitting nearby.
Instead of easing the dull ache that had settled behind his brow, the drink only served to intensify
it. Frustration mounting, Kirel crossed the distance to the balcony overlooking the castle’s yard. He
pulled open the doors and stepped into the enclosed terrace.
A bitter wind knocked on the glass windows, rattling the panes. Above his head, tattered clouds
swam across the three moons, dimming their brilliant glow. When he was young, his mother would
tell him stories of the Fates who watched over them. Faey, the oldest, ruled the green moon. Maewyn
held sway over the red while the youngest—Ileth—made her home in the blue moon. There were
others too, Gods who ruled alongside the Fates and kept a vigilant eye on Aris.
Such nonsense.
Oh he believed in magic like everyone else. He’d seen proof of the supernatural with his own
eyes over the years, but he doubted its power to keep the planet safe from those who would see it
destroyed. What good were magical beings living in distant moons against civilizations that carved
out their territory using weapons that could obliterate Aris with the push of a button?
Leaning against a narrow balustrade, Kirel peered out into the gardens surrounding the perimeter
of the castle. A dust storm had formed sometime during the day and now it kicked up billowing red
sand particles, obscuring his view of everything but the colorful twinkle of lights winking from atop
tall ornate walls surrounding the courtyard.
Though muted by the storm and the thick windowpanes, the agitated beat of hooves caught his
attention. He glanced down and watched a stable hand walk alongside two sleek black horses. Behind
them, they drew a royal carriage to the base of the circular steps leading into the castle.
From his vantage point, Kirel could only catch brief glimpses of the masked horses as they shook
their harnesses and stamped their hooves in the thick dust.
A swift knock on the door made Kirel spin around abruptly. His fingers tightened around the
goblet he still held in his hand. A summons at this hour of the night was never good news.
“Come.”
The door opened and a broad-shouldered man entered the room. The traditional skella of a
Guardian clung to his firm physique. Taller than Kirel and wider across the shoulders, he cut an
imposing figure at the king’s side.
“Thor.” On any other day, the sight of his friend would have made Kirel smile. Tonight, it only
caused his brows to draw downward in a frown. “Why are you still in uniform? What’s happened?”
The Guardian shifted his weight from the balls of his feet to his heels then back again. Although
the traditional mask hid Thor’s face, his anxiety was clear and it mirrored Kirel’s.
“The royal seer conducted another reading tonight.”
Kirel huffed out a relieved breath. He’d almost forgotten about the rituals the seer conducted
every time the three moons hung like fat globes in the night sky. For a decade, her quest to reach the
Fates who guided the hand of the Tradition had been fruitless. Aris had remained without a queen, the
king without an heir.
“They’ve called for us then?” Kirel asked, already reaching for his discarded skella.
“Yes. They want us in the king’s chambers immediately. Domenic’s on his way.” A shadow of a
smile formed beneath Thor’s face mask. “I believe he was occupied when I knocked on his door. I’m
surprised he even heard me over the moans and groans coming out of his room.”
Kirel chuckled and tugged the loose tunic over his head before throwing it on the bed. His linen
pants followed.
Something shifted in Thor’s eyes. The man’s gaze lingered on Kirel’s chest then darted lower,
caressing his groin momentarily before being wrenched back to Kirel’s face.
Startled by the sudden intensity he glimpsed in his friend’s face, Kirel felt his cock stir. A sudden
impression of two pairs of hands caressing a slender, shapely body slammed into Kirel’s thoughts
without warning. Fingers drifted over the woman’s breasts, cupping them, squeezing and tweaking the
stiff little nubs of her nipples while other palms strayed down over her flat belly to touch the pouting
cleft of her glistening pussy.
Kirel’s cock jolted from semi-soft to full-blown hardness in the span of a breath. The myriad
sensual images playing across his mind intensified, taunting him with visions of explicit acts.
His breath caught in his throat. Struggling to pull on his pants and mask his sudden arousal, he lost
his balance and came down hard onto the floor.
“Fuck.” Strong hands reached for him, grabbing his shoulders. “You all right?”
Instead of snapping him out of his delusion, Thor’s husky voice only enhanced the vivid thoughts.
When images of the carnal acts should have been dissipating, they grew stronger. Fingers crooked in
invitation, beckoning to him to join in the fray.
He couldn’t make out the woman’s face, but it didn’t matter. With steady, sure hands, he pictured
himself spreading her thighs apart, baring her pink, flushed labia to his eyes, his hands, his mouth.
The impression was strong enough to send the scent of her musky arousal drifting to his nostrils.
He inhaled deeply and his cock twitched again. A drop of pre-cum slid down his shaft, slicking the
sensitive skin. The woman in his fantasy reached out for him and whispered his name.
He might not have been able to see her face but he recognized her voice. With a gasp, Kirel tore
himself out of the daydream and gazed into Thor’s brilliant blue eyes. The man’s face was only inches
away from his, close enough that all Kirel had to do was tug down the strip of cloth covering the
Guardian’s lips, lean forward and—
With a low, murmured curse, Kirel shook himself out of Thor’s grip and pulled on his uniform
pants. “I’m fine.”
Gods, what had gotten into him? They’d seen each other naked countless times. When they spent
as much time with each other as the Guardians did, modesty was a luxury they could ill afford.
Not once had he experienced such a strong reaction in the presence of any of the Guardians. And
never before had his dreams of Nelina interfered with his duty.
He avoided Thor’s questioning glance while he pulled on his black tunic. His friend had seen his
raging hard-on. He’d have to have been blind not to.
Swallowing hard, Kirel tugged the hood of the traditional skella over the mask he’d already tied
behind his head and stepped into his polished black boots. “We should go,” he said over his shoulder,
already heading for the door.
Thor fell into step beside him, wisely keeping his mouth shut as they walked. Kirel’s head
pounded. The pictures came in an unpredictable rush now, blossoming just behind his eyelids every
time he blinked, giving him no time to adjust before they changed to introduce him to another cock-
pulsing sensation. One moment he could be imagining his tongue gently swirling around Nelina’s
engorged clit and the next he’d have his cock balls-deep in her pussy while her thighs wrapped
around him, squeezing him as he pumped savagely inside her.
This has to stop.
He had a job to do. His focus should have been entirely on his king and the joyous occasion for
which he and the other two Guardians had been summoned.
The remorseless fantasies taunted him, driving him closer to the brink of insanity with each flash
of skin. Every muscle in his body tensed and corded. Every nerve screamed for a female touch.
Kirel quickened his step, making no attempt to disguise their urgency. At this hour of the night, the
castle was all but deserted.
They turned a corner and Kirel spotted a woman wearing a dress cut so low he could see the dark
tint of an areola peeping out from beneath the fabric. He recognized her immediately as one of the
royal courtesans. Though he’d never indulged in her particular talents, he’d heard rumors about her
affinity for the bite of a whip, both giving and receiving.
She watched them both boldly as they approached, her gaze darting over Kirel’s uniform-encased
body with obvious admiration, pausing on the bulge between his legs. “Oh my,” she purred when he
came near, “do you already have plans for that or would you like me to take care of things for you?”
She reached out a red-tipped fingernail and dragged it over the length of his erection. His cock
jolted with awareness, eagerly pulsing beneath her too-tempting ministrations. Clenching his jaw, he
grunted something entirely unintelligible and brushed past her. An angry red haze clouded his vision
and his fantasy wavered, shimmering and changing from sensual eroticism to savage, carnal
wantonness.
“Maybe your friend then?” the woman called out behind him.
Kirel had the brief urge to grab the courtesan by the back of her neck, push her up against the wall
and hold her there while he lifted her voluminous skirts and plunged his cock deep inside her pussy.
He’d bet anything she’d already be sopping wet from a previous tryst, allowing him to enter her
smoothly in one abrupt thrust.
He pictured Thor leaning against the wall, watching him fuck her senseless as he stroked himself,
the smooth head of his cock flushed with desire.
Pain pounded in Kirel’s temples as he rounded a corner. Holy Moon Gods. What was happening
to him?
“Wait.”
Thor’s hand on his shoulder had Kirel jerking out of his friend’s reach. He glowered through the
slit in his mask. “What?”
“Are you sure you’re ready to face the king? I don’t know what’s happened tonight, but you look
ready to pounce on someone. Maybe you’d better take a moment before walking in there.”
Startled, Kirel glanced at the set of double doors leading to the king’s chamber. A guard stood on
either side, their gazes fixed straight ahead, though Kirel saw them dart curious glances his way from
the corners of their eyes.
Gods, he hadn’t even realized they’d arrived at their destination. The fog clouding his brain
threatened to suffocate him. He could still smell the honeyed aroma of Nelina’s arousal. It filled his
nostrils with every breath, clogged his throat and burrowed deep into his veins.
It took all his strength to grit his teeth and force his features into a calm mask. “I’m fine. I haven’t
been sleeping well, that’s all. I was hoping for a quiet night.”
Thor chuckled, the silky sound of his amusement sliding through Kirel’s gut to settle there like a
hot ball of fire that threatened to incinerate him with every ragged breath. “Rest doesn’t seem likely
now. Not with a new queen to train.”
Kirel nearly groaned. He hadn’t given much thought to his role in the future queen’s preparation
for taking her rightful place at the king’s side.
Thor was right. For the next week, the woman chosen to rule at Shivar’s side was to be instructed
in the skills she’d need to acquire to pass three trials set down by the Tradition for generations. Part
of the Guardians’ own training included strict guidance in the process of preparing a future queen for
the Trials. That particular element of a Guardian’s tutelage was the one all Guardians-to-be looked
forward to the most.
The king couldn’t participate in the training process. In fact, the Tradition demanded that he
couldn’t see his future mate at all while she was being trained.
His Guardians had the privilege of disciplining her to please him in every possible way. Whether
she proved to be innocent or experienced, Kirel and the other Guardians would ensure that by the
time she was presented to all of Aris for the mating ceremony, she’d be eager, willing and capable of
displaying a wide range of lovemaking talents.
If the Tradition wasn’t obeyed to the letter, or if she failed to pass the three trials, the
consequences would be dire. The Fates themselves would choose the punishment for the disgraced
woman, and they weren’t known for their ability to tolerate failure.
More importantly, if the queen the Tradition had chosen failed to pass the trials, the king would
also be punished. He would be obligated to pass his crown down to the royal next in line to rule.
Except in Shivar’s case, no other such royal existed. With no heirs of his own, Shivar would leave
Aris leaderless and at the mercy of its ruthless neighbors.
Abruptly, the door swung open from the inside to reveal a tall, slender woman. A mass of blonde
hair so pale it was almost white framed a heart-shaped face. Equally pale eyebrows drew together
over the elegant ridge of her slightly upturned nose. “Are you going to stand there all night or are you
coming in? The king needs you.”
Thor strolled through first. Steeling his nerves and willing himself to keep the mental images at
bay, Kirel followed.
The door closed behind them on a silent gust of wind, as though the woman had commanded it to
shut with nothing but the power of her thoughts.
Knowing Vida, she’d probably done just that.
The king’s chambers had always unnerved Kirel. They were much too spacious, with too many
shadowy corners in which an intruder could easily hide. He’d pleaded with Shivar endlessly, hoping
to convince the king to move to a smaller chamber, but to no avail. Shivar liked the generous extent of
the room. He argued that it gave him space to think.
Shivar had elected to only use half the space for his personal needs. His bedchamber was located
at the back, divided from the meeting area by a dozen embroidered screens the king had acquired on
various travels off-world. Gold-rimmed windows bordered the front of the room, allowing the tri-
colored moonlight to stream through the panes.
A cheerful fire burned in the marble hearth. It spread a pleasant warmth through the cavernous
room, but even its bright flames lacked the strength to illuminate the high ceilings.
It did however cast its orange glow on the king’s grave features.
Although he’d ruled Aris for almost three decades, time had only served to enhance Shivar
Waldemar’s boyish good looks. Only the few faint wrinkles that bracketed his pale blue eyes and the
strands of gray sprinkled in his close-cropped black hair hinted at his age. His pale blue eyes were
shrewd, experience having tempered the exuberance that had been a staple of his youthful reign. He’d
claimed the throne at the age of fourteen. Although Kirel was too young to remember Shivar being
crowned, having served at his side for the last eight years had given him plenty of insight into the
king’s temperament.
“What took you so long?” Domenic, the last of the king’s Guardians and the youngest, rose from a
plush settee.
Kirel threw Thor a harsh glance from beneath lowered eyelids. “It’s my fault. I was sleeping and
Thor had to wait on me.”
“Yeah?” Domenic said. “Well, I was fucking and I still made it here before you.”
“Boys. That’s enough.” Vida leaned on her runed, slender staff. Made entirely out of an ebony
material Kirel couldn’t name, it glowed with an internal light that seemed to shimmer from within. A
claw-tipped hand reached out from the top of the staff, a pearl-colored orb resting in its outstretched
palm. “There’s something we need to discuss.”
Kirel rubbed the bridge of his nose. Although not as strong as they’d been only minutes earlier,
images of Nelina still danced through his mind. He needed another glass of that wine and some time
alone to alleviate the raging hard-on that hadn’t subsided even a fraction since this unexplainable lust
had claimed him. And he still hadn’t been able to look Thor in the eye.
“The Tradition has named a new queen for all of Aris,” Vida continued. “And for the king.” A
tremor passed through her voice, jerking Kirel’s head up. He must have imagined it because when she
went on, there wasn’t a hint of uncertainty in her tone. “It’s your duty to bring her back to the castle.
Tonight.”
“Of course,” Thor said. “I’ve already ordered a carriage saddled. Tell us who she is and where to
find her, and we’ll have her here as quickly as possible.”
“It’s not that simple,” the king said, speaking for the first time that evening. He toyed with the
sleeve of his voluminous robe, not meeting their eyes.
Tension knotted in Kirel’s stomach. It wasn’t like Shivar to be uncertain about anything.
“If you’re concerned about the training,” Domenic said, a teasing lilt in his tone, “don’t be. We’ve
got enough experience to teach the future queen everything she needs to know. Well, most of us. I can’t
vouch for Kirel.”
A scowl curled Kirel’s lip. “The rough rutting you think passes for lovemaking won’t be good
enough here, Dom. Maybe we should leave you out of it altogether.”
“And you think you can—”
“The woman the Tradition has chosen is Nelina Lannen.”
The king’s words caused the planet to tilt on its axis. Kirel’s head spun and the dull ache that
lived inside the empty space in his heart expanded, threatening to burst right through his chest.
His vision swam in a red haze. Moved by instinct and sheer desperation, Kirel snapped his blade
into his palm and lunged at the king. Catching him off guard, Kirel pressed the tip of his blade just
beneath Shivar’s jaw and had the perverse satisfaction of seeing a crimson drop of blood blossom to
the surface. He applied slightly more pressure and the king paled.
“You swore to me she was dead! I never would have left her otherwise. Never!”
“I didn’t think—”
Metal rasped from behind him and Kirel whirled to meet the threat, leading with his blade. Thor
struck out first but Kirel neatly parried the blow and dove low for a sideswipe at the man’s ribs.
From his left, Domenic joined the fray. Dom didn’t use his blade unless absolutely necessary,
preferring his fists and the formidable strength of his body to any other weapon.
Wasting no time, Domenic went straight for Kirel’s weapon hand. He wrapped one arm around
Kirel’s elbow and grabbed for the blade, bending Kirel’s wrist back with enough force to make his
eyes water. Kirel shoved back hard but Thor advanced and positioned the sharp edge of his knife
against Kirel’s throat before he could gain the advantage.
“Don’t do this,” Thor whispered fiercely between clenched teeth.
Domenic’s hold tightened. Kirel loosened his grip on the hilt of his blade. The weapon dropped to
the ground, the thick carpeting muffling the clatter as it landed.
“Let him go,” Shivar said. “I deserved that. Probably more.”
With one last warning look, Thor neatly sheathed his weapon. Kirel stumbled out of Domenic’s
grasp. His limbs wouldn’t hold him. He staggered and grabbed on to the edge of the hearth, his fingers
digging into the hard marble with all the strength he possessed.
“Holy Moon Gods,” Kirel whispered. “She’s alive.”
“I needed you.” The king’s voice seemed to reach Kirel from somewhere far away, barely
breaking through the shroud of grief that surrounded him. “You’d been trained to take your place as
my Guardian for longer than I’d ruled. There was no one else. I didn’t know what else to do.”
The violent reaction that had made him attack the man he’d sworn to protect with his life shifted
into a dull, throbbing ache. It settled like lead in his gut. Nelina’s image shimmered just out of his
reach, taunting him with his inability to find her…to claim her as his own.
For the first time, he felt the guiding hand of the Tradition behind the erotic imagery swirling
through his mind. He swallowed past the lump in his throat, knowing he’d been played like a puppet.
“I should have known,” he murmured. “All this time…I should have known.”
Vida came up beside him. “How could you have? Your duty lies with Shivar. What happens
outside these walls isn’t your concern.”
He glanced at her but as usual her face betrayed no hint of what she was thinking. Only her amber-
flecked green eyes gave any indication of her feelings. They seemed to soften as she looked at him.
A growl broke free from his throat. “You have no idea what it’s like to suffer endlessly while the
one person you love most in the entire universe is taken away from you.”
A sad smile curled the corner of her mouth. “You’d be surprised.”
“I doubt that. Others have made every decision for me since before I was born. I’ve had no say in
anything.” He whirled around and slammed his fist against the hearth. “And now you want me to
bring Nelina here and hand her over to another man?”
“Not exactly.” Vida passed her hand over the top of the orb on her staff. The pearl-colored glass
ball shone brightly, causing him to avert his eyes. “We want you to train her. Fully. She has to pass the
Tradition’s trials. After that… What happens isn’t up to me.”
The pain that always hovered close to his heart reached out and squeezed, making it suddenly hard
to breathe. Kirel collapsed into the settee Domenic had vacated earlier, the wind suddenly knocked
from his lungs.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. For the last eight years, he’d lived with the knowledge that
because of him, the only woman he’d ever loved was dead.
As a final test to end his long years of training, he’d been sent on the ultimate mission. The task
assigned to him had been to live among commoners for a year. He was allowed to choose the name by
which he’d be known and his profession. All in all, it should have been an easy assignment. There
was only one rule. He had to ensure he made no emotional attachments during his stay.
When he’d ridden out through the castle gates, he’d thought that rule absurdly easy to follow. After
all, he’d made no emotional attachments in his entire life. Why would that change just because he now
lived among commoners rather than courtiers?
But he hadn’t counted on Nelina. He’d never met anyone like her. She sent his heart racing every
time she came near. Her beauty was mesmerizing, sure, but it was more than that. She was stubborn
and determined. She’d never been intimidated by his strength or his authority. She hadn’t given in to
his whims just because he asked and she had a way of driving him absolutely mad with desire. The
nights he’d spent in her arms had been the happiest of his life. He wanted to lose himself in the heat of
her soft pussy, to drown in the smell and taste and feel of her.
And then, in the blink of an eye, his ecstasy had ended. When he missed his deadline for returning
to the castle, Shivar had sent his men after him. Thor had been one of them. Gods, he still remembered
how fiercely he’d fought, how desperately. Only he hadn’t expected Nelina to jump into the fray. To
this day, he could still hear the sickening crack of bone as Nelina’s head had connected with the
nightstand. The night she’d died, a part of him had died with her.
Shivar had assured him she’d met her end instantly, but that fact had offered little comfort. Kirel
had known he was the reason Nelina was dead. And that knowledge had tormented him for the last
eight years.
Vida leaned on her staff in front of him, her piercing eyes seeming to bore right into his soul.
“You’ve never struck me as a man who gives up so easily on what he wants.”
Kirel’s chuckle held no humor. “What I want doesn’t matter. You of all people should know that.”
“But your duty matters. The king needs an heir granted him by a suitable queen.” She sucked in a
breath between her teeth, her eyelashes fluttering low to cast long shadows over her cheeks. “The
Tradition has chosen Nelina to fill that role.”
“And if I refuse?”
From behind, Thor placed a hand on his shoulder. His grip was firm but insistent, the threat all too
clear. “You won’t.”

*****
“Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?”
Vida curled into the crook of Shivar’s outstretched arm. They were alone, the Guardians having
left almost an hour earlier.
“No.” She inhaled his scent, spicy and masculine, and closed her eyes. “But what choice do we
have?”
“You could have told him what you’d seen. If the Tradition demands a new king, Kirel should
know it could be him.”
She looked up, blinked away the tears that sprung to her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t know
which Guardian is meant to take your place. The Fates kept that from me.”
The worry lines etched on Shivar’s brow deepened. “But you’re certain I’m meant to step down?
Now? When Aris needs me the most?”
Vida nodded wordlessly. Guilt clutched at her heart. Gods, she was selfish. She’d been so
relieved to learn Shivar wouldn’t be mated with Nelina and so preoccupied with what this could
mean for her that she’d barely given a second thought to the turmoil he must be feeling. He’d been a
good king to Aris. If not for his inability to father an heir, he might have been remembered as one of
the best.
“Aris needs the Tradition now more than ever,” she said softly. “We need the protection of the
Fates and their favor. They’ve chosen a new king. For better or worse, we have to obey their
wishes.”
Shivar cupped her ass, pulling her closer. He rested his cheek on the top of her head. “Kirel hates
this, you know. He wouldn’t want to rule. He’s longed for freedom for as long as I’ve known him.”
“There’s more than one way to experience freedom. Perhaps he’ll find what he’s looking for in
Nelina’s arms.”
“And if he’s not the one the Tradition has chosen? What then?”
Vida drew in a breath then released it on a shuddering sigh. She’d served the Fates willingly for
almost three centuries but that service had taken its toll. The Fates had blessed her with unnatural long
life, yet the Tradition’s gifts always came with a price.
Over the years, she’d watched family members, friends and lovers grow old and perish. She
mourned them all, aghast at the way they were so quickly forgotten by the new generation that sprung
up to take their place.
Vida remembered each of them. Every face, every laugh, every touch had been permanently
imprinted on her memory. Each time she lost someone close to her, she feared the space in her heart
would finally be filled, like adding one more drop of wine to an already brimming goblet, and she’d
never be able to care for anyone again.
She knew she couldn’t endure watching Shivar wither away into nothingness to be erased from the
world as though he’d never existed at all. Yet now for the first time, there was hope. Her duty was
almost at an end.
She’d finally be allowed to step back from the responsibility of being the vessel that carried the
Fates’ wishes to the people of Aris. She could settle down, grow old…perhaps even at Shivar’s side.
Tears clogged her throat.
All she had to do was carry out this one last task. The Fates had made it clear she wouldn’t like
the consequences if she disappointed them. Until the Tradition revealed its true intention, Kirel had to
be kept in the dark, like everyone else.
“At least he still has a chance,” she said. “If Nelina had been meant for you, there would be
nothing he could do to stop fate from taking its course.”
Shivar’s hand came up to rest on Vida’s hip. He swirled his thumb over her bare skin. “Kirel will
never accept another man laying claim to his woman.”
Vida’s teeth dug into her lower lip. And you? she wanted desperately to ask. Would you have let
your woman go so easily?
Failing to give voice to her thoughts, she cleared her throat. “He may not have a choice.”
 Chapter Three

The dream was always the same. It began with exquisite pleasure and ended in more pain than
Nelina thought she could endure. Yet she lived through it every night, helpless to change the course of
the events that spiraled out of control around her.
Her hips arched up to meet Kirel’s cock. He lay on top of her, his weight held on hands splayed
out on either side of her head. His eyes bore into hers. The sheer magnitude of what she saw there
took her breath away.
“I love you,” he whispered again and again and again. His low, husky chant tormented her even as
it drew her close to the brink of release. Her entire body hummed with a low, throbbing intensity, as
though he’d set her nerve endings on fire with his lips, his hands, his cock.
Nelina writhed, fighting against the memories that tugged at her mind. She struggled to break free
but the vision held her firmly in its grip, taunting her with images of everything she couldn’t have.
When the door burst inward, sending shards of wood to rain down on Kirel, Nelina screamed.
She lashed out against the arms that pulled Kirel off her. Sobs clogged her throat. Tears ran down her
face but she paid them no heed.
As he always did, Kirel leapt from the bed. This time, however, was different.
Instead of attacking his assailants, he nodded to one of them. “She’s yours. Do whatever you want
to her.”
The breath fled from her lungs. Nelina opened her mouth to cry out but before she could make
more than a strangled sound, powerful hands clamped down on her shoulders and pushed her back
onto the bed.
Panic clawed at Nelina’s mind. This wasn’t the way the dream was supposed to unfold. Hoping
for his comforting reassurance, she glanced at Kirel but could make out nothing in his face except for
a faint flicker of amusement.
“She likes it rough,” he told the Guardians. “Make sure you give it to her good and hard. She’ll
beg you for more.”
Abruptly one of the Guardians yanked her up and settled her on his lap. His clothes were gone.
She slid down smoothly on his solid cock and he thrust his hips upward, impaling her until she took
him balls-deep inside her body.
“No!” Her stunned cry was lost in a barrage of masculine chuckles.
She slammed her closed fists against the Guardian’s chest, her blows failing to even make him
flinch. Dark golden hair curled around his ears and fell over his forehead. He moved inside her as
though he belonged there, with the strong assurance of a man used to getting what he wanted.
The rhythm was remorseless. He pounded her pussy with frantic thrusts that speared her to the
core. To her horror, her body continued to respond to him as it had to Kirel only minutes earlier.
Cream coated her channel, smoothing his glide. His hands were clamped to her waist and he
easily bounced her up and down on his massive girth. Her nipples beaded to stiff nubs. A flush spread
over her chest, alerting her to her growing need, her building orgasm.
“I knew it! You love a big cock inside you,” Kirel taunted. “Let’s see how you handle two.”
Kirel’s triumphant jibes brought a fresh wave of tears to Nelina’s eyes. She wasn’t supposed to be
enjoying this! These men were her enemy. She’d spent years trying to banish them from her nightmares
and now here she was, eagerly fucking one of them, digging her nails into his shoulders with wild
abandon as she rode his massive shaft.
“Hold her.” She didn’t recognize the other Guardian’s voice.
“No need,” Kirel replied. “You’ll see.”
Before Nelina could wonder what he meant, she felt the thick, unmistakable head of a cock
prodding her bottom. It slid through the crevice of her nether cheeks while fingers held her open then
thrust inside her well-oiled anus.
The man’s shaft plunged into her past the tight ring of muscle and nestled in her back channel. Her
eyes watered. He felt huge inside her, stretching her to capacity. Dark slivers of pain and pleasure
raced through her body.
The two cocks moved inside her simultaneously. Each well-placed thrust glided against her
overheated flesh. Her clit pulsed. Liquid heat ran down her swollen, cream-slicked labia.
She couldn’t see Kirel. It was better this way, she told herself. The longer the Guardians fucked
her, the more difficult she found it to remember why she fought them. Her pussy squeezed down on the
man’s shaft, welcoming each thrust in eager delight. Her ass burned with painful rapture, uncurling a
need from deep inside her she hadn’t been aware of until that moment.
The Guardians’ motions grew even more fevered. Each well-placed thrust seemed to reach inside
her and nudge the dark, tender places in her body, drawing out streams of sensation to pour through
her.
Ecstasy flooded her thoughts. It mingled with the grief and aching loneliness that had perpetually
taken residence within her since the king’s men had taken Kirel. It banished the hurt and anger and
coiled around her, tantalizing in its hunger.
Energy poured through her. One of the men—she didn’t know who, didn’t care—reached down to
touch her clit. That was all it took. The world exploded in a million pieces of light. Her body seemed
to float on a cloud of euphoria even as her inner walls spasmed. Pure bliss crept into every crevice,
every inch of flesh, pulling her apart, shattering her heart.
For a moment, suspended in the midst of eternity, she felt none of the aching agony that had
become her constant companion.

Nelina’s eyes flew open.

Her hips continued to grind down of their own accord, bearing her body into the mattress. Pulsing
with hungry need, her pussy rode the last cresting waves of her climax. Frantically, she ground her
mound down into the sheets, eager for the feel of two cocks embedded deep in her body.
The pillow that cradled her cheek was wet with salty tears. She could taste them in the back of her
throat.
She closed her eyes and held her breath, waiting for the nightmare to dissipate.
A cold sweat drenched her skin. She lay still for a long time, waiting for strength to return to her
limbs. Then, gritting her teeth, she swung her legs over the side of the bed.
 The floor was cold beneath her bare feet. Outside, night had fallen and the room was bathed in tri-
colored light from the fat moons that hung just outside her window.
Neglecting to light a lamp, she made her way to the washbasin she’d set out in a corner of the
room earlier that afternoon. She’d intended to lie down for only a few minutes after the last of the
lunch patrons had left the inn, but the deluge of perverse fantasies had obviously had other plans.
She stripped out of her damp clothes and tossed them in a wicker basket then used a soft
washcloth to wipe off the sweat and the sticky mess between her thighs. The water was cold. She
shivered as a chill ran down her spine.
Apprehension slithered in her veins. She felt edgy and jumpy, as though unseen eyes bore into her
from between the spaces in the wood planks of her walls.
“Calm yourself,” Nelina murmured, sliding the washcloth over her stomach. She pressed it to her
cunt and swore softly when the swollen flesh of her folds answered the pressure with a low,
throbbing ache.
Gods, it really felt as though she’d been thoroughly fucked. Even her anus felt tender when she
nudged it with her fingertip. Swallowing hard, she pulled her hand away.
Even when it unfolded as it normally did, the dream unnerved her. A few days would mark eight
years since Kirel had been snatched from her, yet thinking about that night never failed to perturb her.
Her best friend Reah said it was her own fault she had these dreams. If she’d moved on, taken
another lover, she wouldn’t be waking up in the middle of the night with the last vestiges of a
terrifying nightmare clawing at her skull.
Perhaps she was right, Nelina acknowledged to herself. But how could she? Men didn’t simply
disappear off the face of the planet. Aris might be sprawling but only a small part of the planet was
inhabitable, which severely limited the possible places where Kirel could have been taken.
Besides, she knew exactly who’d done this to him, for all the good it did her. No one believed her
when she told them she’d seen Kirel’s kidnappers and identified them as the king’s men. People she’d
known her entire life tried to convince her she’d taken a nasty hit to the head and had imagined things.
All right, so she had taken a hit to the head. But she still knew better. For the past eight years, she
hadn’t given up hope that one day she’d find the only man she’d ever loved.
Having been met with derision and scorn when she’d approached residents of Waldemar Castle
for help directly, she’d tried to make headway in any way she could. Her family’s inn, Shadow’s
Fortune, had gone to her when her mother had passed away two years earlier. Taking over as the new
proprietress of the popular establishment had given her the perfect opportunity to use her keen senses
to listen for any mention of the king’s men abusing their power.
People gossiped, especially when ale and wine were plentiful. And yet even after all these years,
she’d turned up nothing. Recently, she’d begun growing bolder in her pursuit of the truth. Whenever
someone who had dealings at the royal castle stepped through the door of her inn, she made sure to
ask them if they knew anything of a messenger named Kirel. Each time she asked though, the response
was the same. Blank stares and clueless shrugs.
With a sigh, she tossed the cloth to hang on the edge of the washbasin. After drying herself off, she
pulled on a long green skirt and a low-cut, lace-trimmed blouse. A glimpse of cleavage loosened
men’s tongues as well as a pitcher of ale—sometimes even better.
She slipped her feet into a pair of comfortable shoes, gathered her long, brown hair in a loose bun
and prepared to face the evening crowd. Her face felt flushed and her body still tingled at the memory
of those men’s hands on her.
“Only a dream,” she reminded herself. “Nothing to worry about.”
Closing the door behind her, she slipped out into the hallway and then walked past several closed
doors to reach the top of the stairs that led to the common area.
The smell of spiced stew permeated the air, tickling her nostrils as she descended. Her gaze
swept over the assembled crowd, pausing to scan for newcomers. Although Shadow’s Fortune was
primarily a lodging establishment, over the years the common dining room had become more popular
than the tavern across the street. People stopped in after a long day to stretch their feet, eat a
homemade meal and indulge in boisterous conversation. Drink and company were both plentiful and
soon Shadow’s Fortune had acquired a reputation Nelina had done nothing to dispel.
Business was brisk and the crowd kept her busy. Besides, every newcomer who stepped over the
threshold represented another opportunity for her to learn something of Kirel. She couldn’t ask for
more than that.
Tonight, the crowd was sparse. Although Aris saw its share of tourists who came to gawk at the
only planet in the quadrant whose inhabitants took little advantage of modern technology, the inn
wasn’t as busy this late in the season. The weather had turned cold and the red dust that constantly
swirled through the planet’s atmosphere could be whipped up into a potent whirl in the blink of an
eye.
Native Arisians prepared for the capricious dry weather by wearing veils, masks or shrouds that
covered their faces. Many also shielded their eyes with protective lenses or, as in the case of the
King’s Guardians, hoods that could be tugged forward to protect their eyes. Travelers who weren’t
prudent enough to anticipate the effects of sudden dust storms could suffer blindness or worse.
Nelina spotted Reah setting out a meal in front of two women. As she approached the table,
Nelina recognized them as the seamstresses who owned a shop not far from the inn. The heavy blonde
braid coiled at Reah’s neck bobbed up and down as she gestured wildly with her hands. A faint tinge
of color tinted her pale cheeks.
Nelina paused at the edge of the table, not wanting to interrupt the obviously heated discussion.
“I heard Simon from the Black Dog Tavern say he thought a messenger had already been sent
down from the castle with the news,” Reah said excitedly. “Do you think it’ll be much longer until he
reaches us?”
Nelina’s stomach churned. To this day, her heart skipped a beat every time a messenger headed
this way. As impossible as it seemed, she still hoped to see Kirel come through the door, just as he
had all those years ago.
He’d come out of nowhere with a missive from the castle. Within a few short weeks, he’d swept
her off her feet and thrown her into a whirlwind of raw, savage passion from which she still hadn’t
recovered.
At this rate, she probably never would.
Nelina swallowed hard and jerked her gaze to the cheerful blaze that crackled in the hearth set
against the left wall of the room. Across from it, a dozen low barstools had been placed in front of a
wooden bar. A couple of tall goblets and a squat bottle of wine sat between two young men wearing
travel-stained cloaks. Nelina made a mental note to serve them tonight. She didn’t recognize them
immediately, but they didn’t look like off-worlders either. With any luck, they might know something
of the king’s dealings in this area.
“Well?” Rhea elbowed Nelina in the ribs. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful?”
Nelina shook her head and tried to focus on the conversation. “What would?”
“Being chosen queen!”
Nelina groaned. “Why would you say such a thing?”
The red-headed seamstress paled. Her hand fluttered to the slope of her breasts. “You haven’t
heard? The Tradition has finally blessed King Shivar with a mate. After all these years, it looks like
an heir may be in the cards for our lonesome king after all.”
“I hope it’s you then,” Nelina said, not bothering to hide her sarcasm. The seamstress was well
past the age of childbearing but she still beamed like a schoolgirl, her eyes lighting up at the
possibility.
“You think it could be?”
Nelina threw her hands in the air. “Who cares? Honestly! So much fuss over who gets to fuck
whom.”
Before the women could answer, Nelina stormed away from their table. Gods, people were
dense. Why was she the only one who understood that the king abused his power and intruded upon
his citizens’ private lives?
Nelina hadn’t known Kirel long, but she was willing to bet her life on the fact that he hadn’t done
anything to deserve being kidnapped, tortured and who knew what else. She’d tried to come up with
myriad possible reasons that might explain why the king would want him. In the end, she’d settled on
the lingering suspicion that Kirel must have overhead something on one of his trips to the castle. As a
royal messenger, he was often tasked with carrying important announcements back and forth.
That was the only possible explanation. The king had felt threatened by Kirel’s knowledge and
he’d sent his men to deal with him as quickly and quietly as possible.
Anger coiled in her gut. Worst of all, the king would get away with his crime because everyone
refused to listen to reason.
The chime above the doorway rang through the room, announcing a new arrival. The whoosh of a
windstorm hissed through the open door. A hush settled over the tables and Nelina turned her head to
catch a glimpse of the new guest.
Before she could stop it, a gasp slipped from her lips. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth but by
then it was too late. She watched in silent horror as time slowed to a crawl.
Three men dressed in traditional skellas stood in the doorway of the inn. Their faces were
covered by the black masks and hoods that were part of the garment. The uniforms revealed strong
bodies corded with muscles. Before she could stop it, her gaze darted over their groins. All three
sported unmistakable bulges but the middle Guardian’s erection seemed even more potent than the
others.
Oh Gods. It’s happening. Just like in the dream.
She backed up a step then another until her upper thighs slammed into the edge of a table. “What is
it you want?”
The three men advanced into the inn. The door slammed behind them, shutting out the echo of the
wind and plunging the room into awed silence.
As Nelina struggled to breathe, one of the men approached her. To her shock, he sank to one knee
in front of her and lifted his head. She could make out impossibly dark eyes between the ribbon of
space in his mask. The familiar glimmer in their depths made her heart tumble in her chest.
She squinted, but other than those piercing eyes, she couldn’t tell much about him.
“King Shivar Waldemar requests the pleasure of your company.”
There was something familiar about the rich timbre of his voice but the only explanation her mind
could conjure made little sense. The smooth inflection in his tone was similar to the one she’d often
heard in Kirel’s speech but that was beyond absurd.
Besides, everyone reminded her of Kirel these days. He was constantly on her mind, a ghostly
presence that lingered just out of reach. She couldn’t serve a male patron at the inn without thinking
that the shadow of his stubble looked familiar or that he glanced at her with the same hungry black-
eyed gaze as her former lover.
Believing even for a moment that this dark stranger was the same man for whom she’d frantically
searched during the past eight years could only be a desperate hope borne of a fevered mind.
Nelina smiled sweetly, though her pulse pounded in her temples. “Tell your king he can go fuck
himself.”
An audible gasp echoed through the room. Reah rushed to her side and clutched Nelina’s hand.
“Have you lost your mind?” she hissed out between clenched teeth.
The Guardian seemed nonplussed. He lifted a shoulder in an elegant shrug but made no move to
rise. “I’d hoped you’d come along willingly, but I have orders to bring you with me by any means
necessary.” He hesitated for only a moment before pulling down his mask and adding, “My queen.”

The look of horror on Nelina’s face hit Kirel like a punch to the gut. If he hadn’t been kneeling,
he’d have stumbled backward a step. But it was Nelina who moved out of his reach.
“No. It’s not possible. You can’t—” Her hand flew to her mouth, covering it.
He tilted his head, staring intensely. Gods, he didn’t think he could ever stop looking at her. After
years of having to satisfy himself with fuzzy, memory-blurred images of her, having her standing just a
few steps away felt almost surreal. “The funny thing about what you think isn’t possible,” he
murmured, “is that it almost always is.”
She seemed to consider that for a moment. Finally, she took a determined step forward. Kirel
fisted his hands on his knees to keep from touching her.
Her palm connected with his right cheek almost before he saw it coming. His head reeled but he
absorbed the pain stiffly, watching the fury and torment play across her features.
“Are you done?” He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to.
Her body trembled with barely contained outrage. She lifted her hand again but this time Kirel
was ready for her. He caught her arm and yanked it to him then pressed a kiss to the inside of her
wrist, laving the delicate skin with the tip of his tongue.
Even that small, tame contact made his cock ache. What would happen when he began her training
in earnest?
Thor moved to Kirel’s side. “That’s enough. You’re wasting time.”
She glared at him and yanked her hand away. “I’m not coming with you.”
Kirel rose, fighting to keep his features uninterested. “What you do or don’t want doesn’t matter.
We’re taking you back to the castle where you’ll accept your training like the queen you’re meant to
be.”
She snarled, her full lip curling, revealing perfect teeth. “Never.”
He jerked his head in the direction of the other Guardians. “Take her.”
Nelina’s eyes widened as Domenic moved around her, grabbing her left arm. Thor took her right,
lifting her off her feet. “You can’t do this!”
With a nod to the assembled onlookers, Kirel headed for the door. “Ladies and gentlemen, enjoy
the rest of your night. The king sends his blessings.”
Kirel led the way out. The door opened into darkness. Red dust swirled around him, muffling
Nelina’s protests.
Her cries carved a hollow slash through Kirel’s heart, reminding him of the last time he’d heard
the sounds. It had been his fault then, just as it was now. It seemed he was destined to cause her pain.
He pulled open the carriage door and waited while Thor and Domenic yanked Nelina inside. As
they pulled her past him, she jabbed out with her elbow, spearing him squarely in the ribs. An angry
hiss escaped his lips, directed more at himself than at her.
For the love of Aris, he was a Guardian! A protector! He’d been trained to defend, not to harm.
Yet here he was, hurting the woman he loved.
Because your duty is to the king. Not to her.
Clenching his fists, he slammed one against the driver’s window. “Go!” he shouted then leapt into
the carriage and yanked the door closed behind him as it began to move.
The interior of the chariot was shrouded in shadow. Occasionally a beam of moonlight slid
through the uncovered windows to play across Nelina’s face. She sat across from him, between Thor
and Domenic. Each man had a hand on her thigh. The sight of their splayed fingers so close to her
tantalizing flesh sent a jolt of arousal and jealousy to slither through his veins.
Kirel stretched his arms across the expanse of the cushioned backrest and dug his fingernails into
the soft fabric. “Why fight it, Nel? Isn’t this what every woman wants?”
He caught sight of an angry gleam in her blue eyes. “You don’t have a clue what I want. You never
did.”
“Come now, that’s not fair. All those nights you spent in my arms… I remember the way you used
to beg for more.” His voice dropped to a low whisper. “Don’t you?”
Domenic slid an arm around Nelina’s shoulder and pulled her to him, ignoring her protests.
“We’ll find out soon enough. Won’t we, sweetheart?”
She tried to jerk out of his grip but Domenic kept her pressed tightly against him. “What’s he
talking about?”
“Your training of course,” Kirel said, fighting to keep his mind detached. The erotic images that
had haunted him all night intensified, taunting him with mental pictures of Domenic lifting her skirt
and toying with her pussy right there in the carriage.
He’d be well within his rights to do so, as would Thor and Kirel. Until she was handed over to
the Fates for their decision during the Trials and then ultimately to the king, Nelina was property of
the king’s men. They had complete autonomy over her training and could carry it out as they deemed
necessary.
His cock stiffened, pulsing almost painfully, tenting the fabric of his pants. Gods, he was going to
be useless if he couldn’t get his emotions under control. He needed to prepare her for the Trials, not
fuck her senseless until he made up for all those lost years.
Nelina fell silent. Even in the gloom, he could make out the calculating way she watched him from
beneath lowered lashes. “Why the act, Kirel?” she asked at last. “Why not just walk out the door like
every other man? Did bringing in your friends and pretending to be dragged away by force make you
feel better about yourself?”
His stomach churned. Her darkened silhouette sandwiched between the two strong men took his
breath away. “It wasn’t an act.” The words sounded hollow and meaningless, even to him. “The king
sent for me.”
“I get it,” she said sardonically. “Then the king must have kept you away for all these years,
preparing for the day he decided he wanted me for himself. Do I have that right?”
“Something like that,” Kirel acknowledged.
“Holy Moon Gods, save me from lying men,” she muttered under her breath. “What do you intend
to do with me?”
His fingers clutched the backrest tighter. “Everything.”
Nelina sucked in a breath between her teeth, falling silent. His erection raging out of control,
Kirel kept his gaze fixed firmly on the window, watching the sandstorm drown out the few glittering
lights of the farmhouses they passed.
Waldemar Castle was situated about two miles out of town. As they approached, the storm began
to quiet as though even the blowing gale prepared for their arrival.
The carriage slipped between tall gates that opened for them and circled into the shadowy gloom
of the cliffside. The castle had been carved into the stone of Tradition Mountain, the range with the
highest peaks in all of Aris. Flaming torches ensconced in the walls lit their passage as the driver
pulled up to the circular entranceway.
Kirel pushed the door open and jumped out first, Domenic on his heels. As Kirel extended his
hand inside the carriage and beckoned, the wind died down completely. Nelina ignored his offer of
assistance as she descended, her spine rigid and her head held high. The white blouse she wore
stretched around her breasts, lifting the full mounds up like a divine offering.
Swallowing back a groan, he averted his gaze and gestured toward the entrance. “You can follow
me or I can have Thor and Domenic carry you. It’s your choice.”
“Both choices sound so tempting.” Nelina ran the tip of her index finger over Domenic’s biceps.
“How’s a girl to choose?”
Kirel scowled. He didn’t know what she was doing but he didn’t like it. “Walk. Or I carry you.”
She tore her hand away and stormed past him toward the entrance. “When you put it that way, the
choice is much easier.”
He thought he heard Domenic chuckle behind him but he didn’t hang around long enough to find
out. Hurrying to catch up to Nelina, he touched her elbow to steer her down the right-most
passageway.
She jerked out of his grasp and crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t you need to ask my
permission before touching me or something?”
For the first time that evening a smile tugged at his lips. He leaned toward her to whisper in her
ear. “Not at all. In fact, I’m encouraged to do things…wild, carnal things…to you until you become
queen. The more I touch you, the greater the reward when you pass the Trials.”
He caught the abrupt stiffening of her spine and knew he’d hit a nerve. When she spoke again, it
was with a distinct tinge of panic and arousal in her voice. “What about them?” She hooked a thumb
over her shoulder.
“Them too.”
She shot him a sardonic look. A heartbeat later, she’d hastily lowered her head so her face was
hidden, but not before he saw the flicker of anxious interest glittering in her sapphire eyes.
“Stop,” he said when they came to the door leading to the room that had been prepared for her.
He fished into his front pocket for the silver key Vida had given him, which he then promptly
inserted into the lock. It gave way easily, the mechanism clicking as the lock snapped open.
He pushed the door aside and gestured into the darkness beyond the threshold. “Go. Wait for me
inside.”
Nelina gave a mocking bow and swept past him.
Thor and Domenic moved to follow but Kirel’s arm shot out, blocking their path. “I need some
time with her. Alone.”
Thor’s brows pulled together beneath the fabric of his tight hood. “Not a chance. The Tradition
demands—”
Kirel unleashed a stream of curses that would have made a space sailor blush. “I know better than
anyone what the Tradition demands. One night. That’s all I ask. We can begin her training tomorrow.”
Thor rubbed the bridge of his nose. “One night and then you let this go. Whatever’s happened
between you two before today needs to be left in the past. Understand?”
“Perfectly.” Kirel’s gaze darted to Domenic, who looked past him into the room where Nelina had
disappeared with obvious interest. “Tomorrow.” His tone held a hint of warning.
Domenic lifted his hands in surrender. “I can wait.”
“We’ll post a guard at the door and keep the room locked at all times,” Thor said. “I wouldn’t put
it past her to try to escape.”
Kirel flashed his silver key. “I know the way out.”
Once they’d shut the door behind him, shadows closed in around Kirel from every corner, the
darkness of night still and unbroken in the quiet room. The dust storm had eased from the savage fury
it had exhibited earlier that evening. The colorful rays of the three moons slid through the glass panes
of two windows that flanked an unlit marble hearth.
A spacious bed draped in translucent cloth took up a large portion of the room. Even from where
he stood, he could tell it was empty. Likewise the chair facing a smooth wooden desk also sat
unoccupied.
He hadn’t taken more than two steps into the room when an arm came up from behind him and a
hand clamped around his mouth. He felt something sharp press into the side of his throat through the
fabric of the skella.
“Don’t make a sound and I may let you walk out of here.”
Kirel’s body went rigid, the breath knocked from his lungs. It wasn’t the confident determination
he heard in Nelina’s voice that stunned him or even the weapon she held to his throat. It was the way
her body molded to his and her breasts pressed into his back that had him rooted to the spot, unable to
argue.
“Now, slowly…move forward. You and I are going to have a little chat. When we’re done talking,
you’ll show me how to get out of here.” She jabbed the sharp end of the item she held deeper into his
skin. “Understand?”
Oh he understood all right. He understood that the last eight years of fantasizing about a woman he
thought was lost to him forever didn’t even come close to what he felt at this very moment.
His cock heated with renewed arousal. She shifted her grip on the weapon and her nipples raked
the muscles of his back slightly, just enough to send a shiver down his spine.
Driven by the rush of heat surging through him, Kirel jerked out of her grip and sprung sideways,
grabbing her wrist in the process. He bent back the bones in her hand until the weapon she carried
slipped from her fingers and into his palm. He felt along the edge of the thin, narrow object and
realized it was a penknife that had likely been on the desk when she’d arrived.
Tossing it to the other side of the room so that it cracked against the hearth, he pulled her to him
and wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her tightly against his body.
With a small, circular movement of his hips, he ground his erection into her belly. “You were
saying?”
She struggled against him, tightening her hands into fists and slamming them against his shoulders.
All her wriggling did little to free her from his grasp. It did, however, cause her breasts to rub across
his chest. The pebbled texture of her nipples scraped his skin as though there were no barriers
between them.
Kirel’s heart hammered desperately against his rib cage. He had to see her face. Her body. He had
to feast on every inch of her delectable flesh until she writhed and panted, screaming his name.
“I was about to say you’re a son of a bitch. Like everyone else in this forsaken castle. And if you
think I’m staying here a minute longer than absolutely necessary, you’re out of your mind.”
She looked up then, her sapphire eyes narrowing with ferocious anger as her gaze met his. The
realization that he held the woman he loved, the woman he’d lost, in his arms came like a blow to the
gut.
Even though he’d been made aware of that fact hours ago, it wasn’t until that very moment that it
truly slammed home. The intensity of his feelings for her robbed him of his ability to speak, to
breathe, to do anything but stare.
Green, blue and red-tinted moon rays washed over her high cheekbones. The light sparkled on
brown tresses that spilled out from a loose bun gathered at the nape of her neck.
Unable to hold back any longer, Kirel brushed his knuckles across her chin and tilted her face up
toward his. Her lips parted in surprise. For a brief moment, she ceased struggling.
A moment was all he needed. Using the strength of his body, he shoved her hard against the wall
and trapped her there. Slamming his mouth on top of hers, he kissed her fiercely, his tongue thrusting
between her lips and forcing her to open to him.
She fought him with renewed fervor but he didn’t care where her blows landed. Nothing mattered
but the way she felt against him—sensual and soft and alive.
Groaning into her mouth, he slid his hands up her arms then higher, framing her face. He held her
there, a prisoner of his desperate need as he devoured her mouth.
She tasted like cinnamon and cherries. Always cherries. He’d never cared for cherries until he’d
met her, but one taste of her lips and he hadn’t been able to get enough of the fleshy fruit.
The more he kissed her, the more he hungered. The deep, incessant need that tormented him
amplified to impossible proportions, threatening to overtake him.
Nelina had stopped fighting him. The realization swept through his lust-fogged mind. She’d
clenched her fingers in his shirt and was kissing him back just as passionately as he kissed her.
Elation swirled through his veins. She may claim to hate him but she couldn’t deny what they’d
both always known. The chemistry between them was explosive. It always had been.
And there was no way he’d allow another man to lay claim to her.
Kirel pulled back sharply, struggling to find the words to tell her everything he felt. At that
moment, he was ready to sweep her into his arms and march down the hall until he set her loose upon
the world himself, the Tradition be damned.
When he finally opened his mouth to speak, she silenced him rapidly with another slap of her open
palm across his cheek. The fact that he should have been expecting her strike did nothing to lessen its
impact.
“I spent eight years looking for you. Eight years! And here you were all along, frolicking with
your friends in your little castle, laughing at the girl you’d left behind.”
She shoved at his chest with a strength he hadn’t expected. He stumbled back a step, allowing her
to slip away from the wall. She rubbed at her wrist. Her hair, completely free of its binding now, fell
like a silky curtain around her face.
Brilliant blue eyes pierced him from beneath the veil of shadows. “Got nothing to say for yourself,
do you? Well, fine. I wasn’t expecting an explanation anyway because there isn’t one. But before you
leave, let me make this perfectly clear. You can go back to your king and tell him there’s no way I will
ever consent to mating with him.”
Gods, she was beautiful. The fury etched on her features acted like an aphrodisiac. It traveled
through Kirel in a fierce arc, igniting a lust he hadn’t known himself capable of.
He wasn’t willing to lose her.
Not tonight. Not ever again.
If that meant following the Tradition’s demands, then so be it. If he only had another week with
her, then he was going to make the most of it. And while he fucked her senseless, he was going to
come up with a plan. Because there was no way he was just going to hand her over to Shivar or to
anyone else for that matter.
“Did you hear me? I want you to march out that door and tell your king—”
Kirel moved with a speed borne of anger, lust and relief. She gasped when he swept her into his
arms. His fingers clawed the firm globes of her ass and he ground his rigid cock into the apex of her
thighs.
“Tell him yourself,” he growled. “In a sennight when you’re brought before the Council. Until
then, I’m here to make sure you understand exactly what’s expected of you.”
Kirel lowered his head and snatched a firm nipple between his teeth through the fabric of her
blouse. The barrier between his mouth and her skin was too thick for his liking but it would have to
do.
Nelina cried out and gripped his head. He expected her to try to push him away, but she only clung
to him while desperate panting breaths racked her body.
 He bit down on the stiff peak then soothed the ache by sucking the tender flesh between his lips.
“For the next week, the king’s men own you,” Kirel said when he finally forced himself to release
her nipple. “That means your tight little body belongs to me. Whether you like it or not.”

There was no reason why Kirel’s crude, arrogant statement should have aroused her. But that’s
exactly what it had done, dampening her pussy in an instant.
The man had lied to her! For years she’d believed him trapped in a dungeon somewhere, being
tortured or worse. She’d spent her days desperately looking for him while her nights had been filled
with dreams that straddled the line between fantasy and nightmare. He’d played her for a fool, and
she’d fallen for the act like the idiot she’d been.
Like the idiot she still was.
Nelina’s cunt throbbed at the feel of his solid cock nudging her core. Even through the fabric of
his uniform and her bunched-up skirt, she could feel the thickness of his erection, the massive plump
heaviness of it.
Her heart thudded desperately in her chest and her eyelids drifted closed. She could picture his
bare shaft, knowing instinctively it would be flushed a deep red color, the tiny slit at the tip already
oozing a pearly drop of pre-cum.
Her tongue darted out between her lips. A shudder stole down her spine. Gods, what was wrong
with her? Why couldn’t she find the strength to push him away?
He’d haunted her dreams, her thoughts, her life. And now that she knew better, here she was,
responding to him as though she wanted nothing more than to part her legs and allow him to slip his
hard cock into her soaked pussy.
She had to figure out how to get the heck out of here before things really got out of control.
It took all her willpower to halt her movements, but she managed to still her body’s impulse to
grind against him. Her pussy lips still fluttered wildly with tiny pulses of arousal but they were
thankfully hidden by the folds of her skirt.
“Put me down.” She imbued her tone with as much authority as she could muster, pleased when
her voice didn’t quiver.
Kirel hesitated for only a moment before replying. “I don’t think so. Not when I’ve got you right
where I want you.”
Nelina tightened her hold on his head to keep her hands from trembling. Kirel’s fingers trailed
beneath her skirt, along her naked thighs, sending shivers of arousal streaming through her nerve
endings.
“Would you like to know what’s expected of you?” he asked.
Nelina cleared her throat. “No.”
He tilted his head to look at her. She squirmed beneath his scrutiny.
“Why not?”
Nelina shrugged. “I won’t be around long enough for it to matter.”
If he was surprised by her confidence and determination, he didn’t show it. Aside from the
moonbeams that were occasionally blurred by clouds passing overhead, the room was as dark as a
tomb. Even though Kirel’s face was bared to her, his black skella blended in perfectly with the
shadows, giving her no indication of his emotions.
“Just for argument’s sake, let’s assume you’re not getting out of this as easily as you think.”
The muscles in Nelina’s legs pulsed with a dull ache. She raised herself up a little higher,
wrapping her limbs around his waist in a more comfortable position. Her breasts hovered just in front
of his mouth. She glanced down and noticed her nipples, still stiff and elongated, poking through the
fabric of her blouse. He had only to extend the tip of his tongue and he could ravage those tight peaks
to his heart’s content.
Nelina’s cunt tightened with arousal at the thought. Shame washed through her, a distant
afterthought to the pleasure swirling through her veins.
“All right,” she murmured, knowing there was nothing else to do but play along for now. “Let’s
assume you’re right. You’ve already locked me up in here. There are probably guards outside my
door. So fine, let’s say I’m not going anywhere for a while. What’s going to happen to me?”
“You’ll be thoroughly trained in preparation for the Tradition’s mating tests. Those will take place
in front of anyone who cares to watch. All of Aris will be invited to witness the king’s mating
ceremony.”
“The king himself will be there no doubt.”
Kirel hesitated just a beat too long before replying. “He’ll be a guest of honor, just like you. His
role in the ceremony once you’ve proven your worth to the Fates will be integral.”
Was he jealous? The thought sent an absurd spiral of satisfaction to burrow deep in her groin.
“And if I refuse to go through with this?”
“The Tradition chose you for a reason. It must have known you wouldn’t disobey.”
She felt herself begin to slip down the firm column of his body. For a moment she had a vivid
mental picture of herself gliding down just until Kirel’s cock was flush with her pussy. If he were
naked, it would slip inside her easily. Her skirts would cover the proof from view and he could thrust
into her repeatedly without anyone being the wiser.
She shook her head to banish the erotic image. Annoyance flickered to life inside her. She hated
this man who’d so easily toyed with her heart.
Didn’t she?
Digging her fingernails into her palm to clear her mind, she focused on the topic at hand. “And
these lessons… I’m guessing they’re not in reading, writing and arithmetic.”
His low, throaty chuckle caused her to suck in a sharp intake of breath between clenched teeth.
And then, as quickly as it started, his chuckle died. Though she still couldn’t make out his eyes
through the shadows, she could feel the shift in atmosphere the moment it occurred. Whatever slight
amusement he’d felt a moment earlier was gone, replaced by a deep somberness that filled the room
with an electric current that was almost palpable.
“Consider yourself lucky,” he murmured as he clutched her closer to his chest and turned, heading
for the bed. “You’re about to get your first taste of what’s to come. A private taste. Just you and me.”
He bent low over the mattress, placing her down on her back across the middle of the bed and
straddling her with his legs on either side of her thighs. He hovered just above her, careful not to
crush her with his weight.
That small amount of consideration seemed out of place with what she now knew of Kirel, and it
sent a tiny thrill to shimmy down her skin.
 “Stay just like that,” he whispered in her ear. “Don’t move.”
She heard the promise in his voice loud and clear. It made her pussy throb and tighten, her inner
walls twitching in anticipation. The protest she knew she should utter lodged in her throat.
Just once…
Oh how badly she wanted to feel him close to her one more time. She’d dreamed of having him in
her arms, her legs wrapped around him, his cock thrusting deep into her core. What would it hurt to
give in to him once, knowing that when she escaped from the castle she’d never see him again?
Kirel rose to his feet and cast a cursory glance around the room before stepping away from her
field of vision. She thought about ignoring his request and rising from the bed but quickly dismissed
the idea. Where would she go? The door was likely locked and even if it wasn’t, there had to be
guards just outside the room. She wouldn’t get far. Besides, she didn’t want to go anywhere. Not yet.
Until now he’d been a little rough and demanding, but hadn’t shown her anything she couldn’t
handle. Her body remembered him, responded to him of its own accord, making its wishes known
with every pulse and throb.
“What’s going on?” she asked when the silence continued to stretch on.
Kirel didn’t answer at once. Apprehension curled in her belly. Where had he gone, and why was
it taking so long?
He approached from the other side of the bed, startling her when the mattress dipped beneath his
weight.
“Sit up.”
She did as she was told without protest, her heart hammering a steady beat in her chest.
He slipped a length of fabric around her eyes and tightened it, knotting it behind her head. Nelina
barely had a chance to gasp as the shadows that had surrounded her field of vision darkened to an
impenetrable sea of black.
“The Tradition demands that the future queen meet three important criteria.” His breath warmed
her cheek as he spoke.
Nelina fought to keep her voice impassive. “Not that it matters, but what are they?”
“First, she must be able to learn from others. That’s why the Guardians are instructed to teach her
certain skills she must then display to the Fates and the citizens of Aris.” He tugged at the laces
holding her blouse tight at the base of her throat. She felt the fabric loosen around her breasts then slip
away altogether as he unlaced the bindings and slipped the two sides of the fabric on either side.
“Sexual skills,” she whispered, guessing where this discussion was headed.
“Precisely.” He rolled one of her nipples between his fingers.
Goose bumps broke out over her skin and she fought back a shiver. “All—all of the Guardians?”
“Yes.”
Remembering the strong bodies pressed against her in the carriage caused her sex to moisten. All
three of them…at once? The thought was almost too much to bear.
“What else?” she asked when she could trust herself to speak.
“The future queen must also be able to obey without question, without protest. That’s something
else you’ll be taught.”
A nervous chuckle escaped her throat. “Good luck with that one.” Yet despite the ludicrous
statement, desire swirled low in her belly, adamant for release. Cream slipped out from between her
folds, slicking her thighs. “Is that it?”
“No.” Kirel moved to her side and gently pushed her back on the mattress. Her breasts quivered,
the extended peaks throbbing for his touch. “Most importantly, she must be able to share herself body
and soul with the king…and with the people.”
“You mean she’ll—I’ll—have to fuck other men in front of an audience?”
“The Guardians,” he confirmed. “We’re the only ones allowed to touch you. By sharing yourself
with us as you give your body and your heart to the king, you’ll prove to the Council you’re ready for
the responsibility of ruling Aris. And you’ll bring the blessing of the Tradition down upon us all.”
“And if I fail?”
Kirel hesitated. “You won’t.”
“If I fail,” she repeated, “what happens then?”
“The Fates hold your future in their hands, as they do all our destinies. If you refuse to go through
with the Trials, or if you don’t complete them to their satisfaction, they’ll choose your punishment
themselves. Whatever they devise, you can be sure their retribution will be two-fold. Not only will
they discipline you for your failure to obey them, but they’ll also want to deter all other women who
may one day be granted the same privilege you seem to care nothing about.”
She pressed her lips together, unable to reply. She needed a moment to process everything he’d
told her. The information he’d shared hadn’t changed her mind about what she had to do. If anything, it
only reinforced her goal. She had to get out of here as quickly as possible.
There was no way she’d go through with this mating ceremony, no matter what the Fates decreed.
The last thing she wanted to do was marry a virtual stranger even if he was king!
Kirel lifted her skirt. The movement of the fabric caused a light breeze to stir the curls at the apex
of her thighs. It felt cold against the slickness that had gathered between her pussy lips and she
trembled slightly.
She pressed her thighs together, though she knew he couldn’t make out much in the darkness.
Besides, he’d already seen much more, though she doubted he remembered most of it. Memories of
their lovemaking had probably fled his mind as quickly as memories of her. She couldn’t fool herself
into thinking otherwise.
And if everything he’d told her were true, unless she could find a way out of the castle, she’d have
to endure acts much more humiliating than this at the hands of the king’s men.
Her pussy fluttered. Gods, the thought was much too arousing! Her stomach muscles rippled as
she fought to keep a shiver from stealing up her spine. How perverted was it that she craved the dark,
lustful things of which Kirel had spoken?
As if reading her thoughts, Kirel let his hands travel up the inside of her thighs, his fingers
questing amidst the crisp curls that masked her damp arousal. He found the heat hidden within her
core and probed the pouting lips of her cunt. Her slippery juices coated his skin as he dragged his
fingers through her slit.
Gods, he must know how badly she wanted this. Wanted him…and…and the others.
Her heart hammered a steady beat against her chest. Blood roared in her ears, drowning out
everything but the sound of her own panting breaths. Parting her legs wider, she arched her back and
instinctively pushed her hips forward, seeking the stimulation of those long, tapered fingers deep
inside her ultra-sensitive passage.
Kirel’s sharp hiss filled the room when he delved into her tight channel. Her pussy squeezed
down on the intrusion that filled her. It grasped the long fingers and pulsed around them while Nelina
panted and squirmed, matching the determined thrusts with circular movements of her own.
“You’re so wet,” he murmured. “Tell me this is all for me.”
The words lodged in her throat. She dragged in a breath then another. “Think what you will.”
His soft chuckle slid through her body like a caress. “Fair enough.”
He pushed inside her and then withdrew, varying his rhythm until she quivered, perched on the
edge of climax. When he pulled out of her completely, she cried out, her pussy fluttering madly with
intoxicating need.
He thrust into her again, this time with the dry fingers of his other hand while he brought her cream
up to her lips and slipped it into her mouth. She savored the musky taste of her wetness on his skin
and sucked greedily at the fingers he slid between her lips.
She imagined it was his cock she devoured, though her pride wouldn’t let her ask him to turn the
fantasy into reality. Oh how she’d loved to suck and lick every inch of his erect shaft. With languid
strokes, she did it again now, transported back in time by the fevered probing between her legs and
the fingers in her mouth.
He had only to touch her swollen clit lightly and the pleasure that had been steadily building
inside her expanded and burst. The climax poured through every part of her with a fury she couldn’t
remember ever experiencing. It spread outward, rushing from her groin through to her extremities
with waves of delicious agony.
Her pussy contracted, spasming with eager, desperate need, convulsing in ecstasy. The fingers
slipped from her mouth, allowing her to scream her pleasure.
“Kirel! Gods, yes! Yes!”
Her cry echoed off the stone castle walls and reverberated in her ears along with a second groan
—a heady, masculine one. The pressure on her cunt eased as Kirel’s fingers slipped out of her. She
felt the mattress shift and knew he’d risen.
“Good night, Nelina.”
A moment later, she heard the door open then slam shut. Silence dampened her senses. The
remnants of her climax pounded in her ears as she lay there panting and thoroughly spent.
Regret swept through her, leaving behind a lonely agony she knew too well. Though she couldn’t
figure out what she’d done to drive him away, she knew what abandonment felt like well enough to
recognize it for what it was.
Nelina briefly considered removing the blindfold but decided she wasn’t ready to face the reality
of her situation. She kept it in place and groped for the blankets in the darkness then curled up around
her memories of another place, another Kirel. One who worshipped her and showered her with
words of love.
Words that meant nothing.
Tears slipped from beneath her eyelids to soak into the blindfold. As darkness claimed her, she
swore that was the last time she’d ever let Kirel Turion get the upper hand.
 Chapter Four

She’d made him come in his breeches like an untried youth.

Kirel grabbed a fistful of bed sheets and wrung them between his fingers, recalling the way
Nelina had screamed out his name as a powerful orgasm overtook her. Her desperate moans had been
his undoing. Before he could control the urge, his balls had quivered and he’d spilled himself in
ragged, violent spurts.
What had he been thinking? He wasn’t able to contain himself around her. His duty was the
farthest thing from his mind when she writhed and mewled low in her throat, wringing every last drop
of self-control from him.
She’d driven him wild with desire as she’d bucked beneath his touch. Her body had been a pliant
instrument and he an expert musician. He’d plucked and strummed, tweaked and pinched until he had
her exactly where he wanted her—squirming for him, eager for his touch.
Gods, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so hard. His cock had ached with an intense,
simmering need to fuck her. He’d wanted nothing more than to slam his rod between those flushed
pussy lips, to feel her nails dig into his back as she cried out with release.
But he hadn’t.
He’d known that if he’d taken her then, he wouldn’t have stopped. He’d have marched out of the
castle with Nelina’s legs still wrapped around his waist and her pussy clinging to his cock, dragging
desperate spurts of cum from his needy body.
Thinking back, he had no idea how he’d been able to keep himself in check.
Except he hadn’t maintained full control of his base impulses. Not entirely. When she’d trembled
beneath him and her pussy had squeezed down on his fingers, he’d known he was lost.
His balls had drawn up tight into his sac and before he could do anything to stop the cascading
lust from pouring forth, his cum had jetted all over the inside of his skella.
And then, as though an orgasm had been the only thing standing between him and clarity, the full
impact of the night’s events had slammed into him. Bewildered and more than a little embarrassed by
his inability to control his too-eager cock, he’d bolted before Nelina could do more than cry out his
name.
With his damp crotch sticky with spilled cum, he’d somehow made it back to his room unseen.
There, he’d rinsed his breeches in a basin of cold water and then collapsed into bed. The remainder
of the night had passed fitfully as he wrestled with fragmented glimpses of a past that continued to
torment him.
Pulling free of the tangled sheets, Kirel gave up all pretense of sleeping. Late-morning light
flittered through the windows, casting a cheery pink glow over the interior of his chambers, mocking
him as he dressed. The day should have been dark and dreary, as filled with turmoil as his soul.
Shivar enjoyed sleeping late in the mornings and had standing instructions not to be disturbed until
noon. Thor, Domenic and Kirel met in front of the king’s chambers. Once they arrived, servants flung
open the king’s chamber doors and proceeded to serve lunch.
As Kirel had expected, the rest of the day passed agonizingly slowly. He moved at Shivar’s side
from one meeting to the next as though drifting through a thick fog, his limbs laden, his reactions
sluggish. Even his finely honed Guardian instincts had been dulled by the edge of lust and raw desire
until by the time night fell again, he felt stretched tighter than a bow string and ready to snap.
“Go. Get out of here, all of you.” Shivar flicked his hands in their direction, the wide sleeves of
his robe slipping to reveal a sprinkling of dark curls on his forearms.
“It’s early yet,” Thor said. “You’re sure you won’t be needing us again?”
The king removed the golden crown from his head and laid it on a plush velvet pillow then locked
it away in a crystal case. “I’m having company this evening. And I don’t need you to hold my hand or
any other part of my anatomy.”
“Are you sure about that?”
Shivar scowled. Kirel glanced at Thor and saw his lips thin beneath the fabric of his face mask.
It was an old argument, one both men should have tired of long ago. Thor insisted that Shivar
needed protection at all times, even—no, especially—when engaged in intimate acts that would leave
him vulnerable. For his part, as much as the king valued his safety, he valued his privacy more.
Kirel couldn’t blame him. “Stay if you must,” he said to Thor and Domenic. “I’m with the king on
this one.”
Domenic shifted his weight from one foot to the other. His gaze darted from Thor, who stood his
ground, to Kirel, already standing at the threshold to the king’s chambers. The uncertainty in his
narrowed eyes would have been comical if Kirel didn’t understand the feeling all too well.
Having to constantly choose between duty and everything else grew tiresome fast. Even though
Domenic had only been part of the Guardian trio for a couple of years, he’d been around long enough
to experience firsthand the dichotomy that ruled a Guardian’s life.
With a bow to the king and a nod to his fellow Guardians, Kirel left the chamber. Every muscle in
his body ached with tension, every nerve desperate for release.
His footsteps carried him in the direction of Nelina’s room. Images of her delectable body had
haunted him all day. Instead of banishing the thoughts and concentrating on his duty as he should have
done, he’d found himself wondering how she’d respond to Thor and Domenic. Would she give herself
to them as eagerly as she’d opened for him? Would she scream their names when she came?
His insides cramped as a hot stream of jealousy knotted his stomach. He fisted his hands at his
sides, his fingernails digging hard enough into his palm to send a jolt of pain up his arm.
This had to stop. He knew as well as anyone how important this mating was to Aris. Nelina
would provide the people with renewed confidence in their king. Threats from abroad came closer to
home every day, making the people’s faith in their ruler imperative.
Nelina could give them that. She could give Shivar an heir.
Kirel’s gut twisted as though someone had shoved the blade of a knife below his navel and
wrenched it hard. A few feet away from the door to Nelina’s chamber, Kirel turned right.
Last night, he’d learned how impossible it was for him to maintain his composure around her.
Thor had made it clear her training had to begin in earnest, and if they didn’t proceed tonight, they
most certainly would get started the next day.
One way or the other, Kirel had to get Nelina out of his system. Fucking her wouldn’t do it. In fact,
it would have the exact opposite effect. The more time he spent around her, the worse the craving
became, until touching her, tasting her, being inside her, became all he could think about.
Clenching his teeth, Kirel took another right turn and found himself facing the mouth of a shadowy
passageway that led down into the deepest recesses of the castle. Hesitating for only a moment, he
plunged inside the dark corridor. His boots struck the stone of a narrow set of stairs. The cool scent
of wet stone and earth tickled his nostrils and the sound of a torrential downpour intensified as he
continued to descend.
At the bottom, the passageway opened into a deep cavern. Flickering torches ensconced in
emerald-colored shells had been affixed to the volcanic black rock from which the bowels of the
castle were carved. Golden firelight glistened off the surface of a deep, dark pool. Mist rose in thick
billows from the back of the cavern where two identical waterfalls spilled their contents into the
rippling water.
Inhaling the rich, mineral scent of the hot springs, Kirel pushed off his hood and untied his face
mask. The air was damp with beads of water that clung to his skin, making his clothes stick to his
body. He stripped quickly, threw his uniform on a jagged peak of rock that jutted from the wall and
tossed his boots beneath it.
He plunged into the welcoming warmth of the water, letting its weightlessness envelop him as he
dove toward the bottom. The force of the current lapping at his ankles tugged him downward,
wrapping around him and pulling with surprising strength. The waterfalls weren’t the only source of
water for the pool. A number of tunnels wove through the earth, channeling fresh water through the
springs on a regular basis. A massive volcano rumbling in the heart of the mountain heated the
springs, providing a steady flow of hot water year-round.
He remained submerged for as long as his burning lungs would allow then spiraled upward and
broke the surface with his head. Rivulets of moisture ran from his hair to pour into his eyes. He huffed
out the breath he’d been holding and inhaled deeply, rubbing his eyelids with the heels of his palms.
The water lapping at his naked body made his mouth curve with pleasure. His cock still throbbed
but the warm, wet environment did wonders for soothing the tension that corded his muscles.
When he finally opened his eyes, he found himself staring at a sight so unlikely it made him blink
rapidly in an effort to clear the last drops of moisture from his lashes that surely had to be affecting
his vision.
Thor was smiling. And not just any smile, but a full-fledged grin that stretched as far as his full
lips would allow, transforming his face from austere and reserved to sinfully sexy.
Kirel was so taken aback by the smile that he didn’t even notice Thor was naked until a moment
later when his gaze slipped down to the man’s strong chest, over the elegant stretch of his rib cage to
his narrow hips and then lower, to the erect cock bordered by the a soft patch of golden hair at the
apex of his thighs.
Kirel swallowed hard, his own cock pulsing with renewed awareness. “What’s going on?”
“We thought you could use some company,” someone else said.
Aware that Thor hadn’t spoken, Kirel spun around in the water in time to see Domenic step out of
his breeches. He’d already discarded his boots, tunic and headgear, and now stood naked as the day
he was born, wearing nothing but a grin identical to Thor’s.
Suspicion jolted Kirel’s thoughts from their rapid southward descent. “What is this? Really?”
 “Come now, what’s with the interrogation?” Thor dipped his toe in the water at the pool’s edge.
The motion made the muscles in his strong legs flex. “It’s been too long since we’ve spent any time
together. Shivar’s occupied.” He made a face, clearly still displeased about losing the ongoing
argument. “And Nelina’s being stubborn. She refuses to eat or let any of the servants attend to her. I
figure she needs a little time to think about her situation and realize we can do this the easy,
pleasurable way…or the hard, pleasurable way.”
To Kirel’s utter shock, Thor winked. Winked!
Now he definitely knew there was more going on than they were telling him. Although the
Guardians spent their days in each other’s company, their evenings together were infrequent at best.
Kirel had done everything in his power to keep his distance from the two men who knew more about
him than anyone else. He’d long suspected that Thor and Domenic had become intimate, sharing
themselves with one another as lovers as well as colleagues. At times, Kirel had envied them the easy
camaraderie and trust they shared, but he’d wanted no part of it.
He knew what happened when he got too close to people. They died. And in the Guardians’ line
of work, death was too often an inevitable conclusion.
Thinking back, Kirel couldn’t recall when they’d last done anything as a trio. Oh they passed the
time easily enough while waiting for Shivar to bathe, get a massage or do any other of a thousand
things that didn’t require their services. But this was too bizarre to be coincidental and much too odd
to be anything but a well-planned setup.
“Right. I get that.” Kirel swept a wet lock of hair out of his eyes. “What I don’t get is why you’re
here with me.”
A splash from behind him alerted Kirel that Dom had dived into the pool. Ripples of water
sloshed over Kirel’s chest. Where he stood, his feet could easily touch the bottom, though farther
toward the back of the pool, the currents could be treacherous.
A hand brushed against his ass. Domenic’s head broke the surface. The man shook his hair out of
his eyes, sending droplets of moisture to splash against Kirel’s back.
“Nelina’s distracted you from your duty.” Thor slid into the water in a smooth glide, parting the
surface of the pool as his body sank into its embrace. “We can’t have that.”
Rivers of fire ran through Kirel’s veins at the husky tone in Thor’s voice. He chuckled self-
consciously, painfully aware of his raging erection. “I’ve been…tense since she’s arrived. On edge.”
Thor nodded and slid forward, stopping just inches away from Kirel. Behind him, Domenic
pressed against his back, his erection prodding Kirel’s spine.
Shocked by the intimate caress, Kirel jerked sideways but Thor was faster. He reached out and
grabbed Kirel’s waist, pulling him against his chest. The traitorous current made the job much too
easy and in a heartbeat they had him sandwiched between them, their hard physiques encasing him
from both sides.
Before he could protest, Thor sank his hands into Kirel’s hair and pulled him forward. Kirel
watched the man’s mouth lower as though it descended in slow motion. With deliberate focus, Thor
positioned his lips over Kirel’s. The kiss wasn’t eager or demanding but painfully sweet, sending a
raw lance of surprised arousal into Kirel’s groin. A groan escaped his throat.
As though that’s what he’d been waiting for, Thor swept his tongue between Kirel’s lips with
infinite slowness, tasting and caressing rather than seeking entrance. His fingers traveled downward
over Kirel’s temples to cup his cheek. The man’s skin was cool against Kirel’s overheated flesh, the
contrast sending his thoughts reeling.
Behind him, Domenic pulsed his hips in a smooth, circular motion. The tip of his cock glided over
the base of Kirel’s spine, leaving delicious shivers in its wake. A nip on his shoulder was followed
by a tender lick then another. His cock stiffened and pulsed, his balls drawing up in their sac.
“Let go, Kirel.” Domenic’s voice was thick with the same heady need that rushed through Kirel’s
veins. At that moment, he sounded much older than his twenty-five years. “Just once…let go of
whatever responsibility you carry on those broad shoulders and let us take care of you.”
Holy Moon Gods, this was insane. Maddeningly, impossibly insane. He wasn’t the one who was
supposed to be seduced. They should have been in Nelina’s chambers, coaxing streams of pleasure
from her sweet, velvety cunt. Instead they were—
Kirel yanked his head back, breaking the kiss. “I know what you’re doing. It’s not going to work.”
Domenic trailed his hot tongue over the edge of Kirel’s jaw. Kirel gritted his teeth, but not before
a frustrated hiss escaped his lips.
“We’ll be the judges of that,” Thor said. His open palm glided over Kirel’s chest, down his
stomach and into the curls at his groin to finally wrap around his cock. The feel of the Guardian’s
hand on his rod nearly had him spilling his seed in an embarrassing manner twice in as many days.
Gods, had the entire world gone mad? Until yesterday, he’d known exactly where he stood and
what was expected of him. Now the entire planet had been turned upside down.
He couldn’t tear his gaze away from Thor’s bronze skin. Dewy droplets of moisture glistened on
the man’s broad shoulders and hung suspended from the golden hair sprinkling his chest. Kirel licked
his lips. He wanted nothing more than to lean down and swipe up some of that moisture with his
tongue then swirl it around a brown, masculine nipple and draw the pebbled tip into his mouth while
stroking Thor’s cock.
He fought to stand rigid and keep his hands flexed at his sides, but the warmth of the water and the
strength of the bodies pressed against him conspired to make him lose his mind.
Men didn’t attract him. They didn’t interest him in the least. It was women he wanted…sweet,
soft, curvy women with breasts and hips and delicate pink folds. He loved the taste of them, the scent
of them, the sheer femininity of them.
But this masculine, carnal embrace was almost more than he could bear. Thor looked so sexy, so
rough and rugged. Kirel couldn’t see Domenic but he’d caught glimpses of the man’s bulging
forearms, his tapered hips, his thick cock.
Relentlessly, they pushed at the barriers of his resistance. Four hands and two mouths were no
match for whatever self-control he possessed. Hell, he’d been unable to keep his composure around
Nelina and she was one woman! A woman he loved, a woman whose body’s intimate secrets were no
secret at all.
How could he possibly hold out against strokes, caresses and fleeting kisses that were foreign
enough to make him go mad?
Simple. He couldn’t.
His hand parted the water as he brought it up to cradle Thor’s head. With his free palm, he found
the Guardian’s heavy balls and cupped them, squeezing gently. Thor’s mouth moved as though to
speak, but Kirel quickly quieted him with a kiss of his own.
A groan rippled through their fused lips. His tongue darted out and slid against Thor’s. The
contact sent a spasm deep in his balls, making his cock twitch.
He felt Domenic’s knuckles scrape across the base of his spine as he grabbed his rod and shoved
it hard between the crevice of Kirel’s ass cheeks. Dom’s fingers parted the way. The tip of his thumb
prodded the tight rosebud of Kirel’s anus then slipped in.
Kirel’s knees buckled. If Dom and Thor hadn’t been supporting him on either side, he wasn’t sure
he would have been able to stand. The cascade of sensations streaming through him had turned his
limbs to the consistency of the water rippling through the pool.
“You’re not slick enough for my cock,” Dom whispered, his breath hot against Kirel’s ear, “but
the queen will be. Whichever one of us takes her that way will make sure she’s good and ready for the
feel of a thick rod in her back passage. And she’s going to love every moment of it.”
The throbbing knot of painful arousal that pounded in Kirel’s groin came undone. He surrendered
to it, knowing no force in the universe could stop the flood of ecstasy now.
His seed spilled out of the slit in his cock, gushing in great, pulsing streams, pouring over Thor’s
hand into the water. As though taking his cue from Kirel’s orgasm, Thor bit down on his lower lip
hard enough to draw blood. The coppery taste filled Kirel’s mouth as Thor’s hot cum jetted over his
knuckles. A moment later, a third rivulet of liquid splashed across his back.
They held each other, their panting breaths melding with the torrential downpour of the waterfalls
to create an orchestra of spent passion. Kirel leaned his forehead on Thor’s shoulder. Behind him,
Domenic placed a tender kiss at the hollow between his shoulder blades.
“I think you’re ready,” Domenic murmured. Kirel could hear the amusement in the younger man’s
voice. Any other day, it might have annoyed him. Today, it made him smile.
“For what?” Kirel asked at last.
Thor’s hips ground against Kirel’s, his softening cock touching Kirel’s still-quivering rod. The
Guardian pulled back. A glint of emotion flickered in his sky blue eyes. “For Nelina.”
 Chapter Five

From the window of her room, Nelina watched night fall for the second time since she’d been
brought to the castle, slanting its deep shadow across the red dust that coated the expanse of the vast
garden. The day had been a blur. From the moment she’d awoken, she’d barely had a second’s peace.
At first, the torrent of servants who kept pouring into her room provided a welcome intrusion from
her tumultuous thoughts. But soon the constant scrutiny of their overly attentive ministrations began to
grate and she longed for the safety of her room back at Shadow’s Fortune.
She missed being swept up in the bustle of the busy inn and she yearned for a heart-to-heart talk
with Reah more than she could have imagined. Though she’d always preferred solitude even to the
well-meaning chatter of a good friend, Reah had been like a sister to her. They’d grown up together.
Through scraped knees, awkward growth spurts, heartaches and immense joy, they’d held each
other’s hand and had been able to find some comfort in knowing neither was alone.
But here, in the midst of Waldemar Castle, surrounded by a dozen servants who all seemed to
have nothing better to do than dote upon her every move, she’d never felt lonelier.
Most frustrating of all was the way no one wanted to speak with her. Oh they were all polite
enough when they served her, but if she asked even the most innocuous of questions about the castle,
its customs, or—Gods forbid—its Guardians or king, they clammed up as though their life depended
on their vow of silence.
“Are you sure you won’t allow me to help you bathe?”
Nelina tightened her grip on the windowsill and forced a calmness she didn’t feel into her voice.
“No, thank you. Please leave.”
“But the Guardians will be here soon. I’ve been told to ensure you’re ready for them when they
arrive.”
Nelina whirled around and pierced the frail servant girl with a withering glare. “You mean they
won’t fuck me if I’m dirty? I had no idea they were so discriminating.”
The color drained from the girl’s cheeks. “I didn’t mean to imply you wouldn’t please them,
m’lady. Just that a bath would take care of certain…odors.” By the time she finished, her voice had
dropped to an embarrassed murmur.
The first genuine amused grin since she’d arrived at the castle played upon Nelina’s lips. “Why
don’t you let me worry about my own odors and how displeasing they might be to the king’s men,
hmm?”
With a final furtive bow, the girl left the room, shutting the door quietly behind her.
Nelina sucked in a deep breath, closed her eyes and leaned her head against the frigid
windowpane. She could hardly believe they’d all gone. Finally, she could have a moment of much-
needed solitude to gather her thoughts.
A sudden knock on the door made her eyes jolt open. She should have known this newfound
privacy was too good to last.
 “What is it now?”
A woman she didn’t recognize slipped into the room on a cloud of spiced incense. The scent
should have been too strong to be pleasant but it filled the air with a musky, almost comforting odor
that reminded Nelina of home.
The newcomer looked almost ethereal. A gauzy white gown enveloped her slender body, the thin
fabric hugging her full breasts and narrow waist to perfection. Hair so blonde to be almost white
framed a heart-shaped face. Her skin was the color of alabaster, pale enough for Nelina to make out a
few fine veins beneath the surface. Even her eyes were odd. Jade green flecked with sparks of amber,
they seemed much too wise for a face so young.
“I’m sorry,” the woman said. She leaned on a black staff finely etched with jagged runes. At its
top, an orb hovered in an outstretched palm, claws wrapping over its smooth pearl surface.
Magic seemed to envelop this mysterious visitor even while it emanated from her every pore. She
wore it as she would a cloak, with comfort and ease. The sight of that much power and grace stole
Nelina’s breath.
“For what?” She’d meant the question to come out firm and authoritative, but it echoed as a
breathless whisper instead.
“For this.” The woman raised her hand and gestured around her, indicating the room, the castle,
maybe even all of Aris. “For bringing you here.”
“You… You’re…” This time, words failed her entirely.
“Call me Vida.”
As much as the day’s events had exhausted her, a jolt of adrenaline surged through Nelina’s veins.
“Why are you here? Haven’t you meddled in my life enough?”
As soon as the questions were out of her mouth, she instantly regretted them. She flinched,
expecting a swift magical rebuff—maybe a bolt of lightning or a gust of air strong enough to lift her
off her feet and slam her against the opposite wall. She received neither.
Instead of being insulted, one of the most powerful women in all of Aris laughed, the genuine
sound imbuing the cold room with an immediate warmth. “No wonder he loves you.”
Nelina instantly stiffened. The careless remark stung much more than it should have. She averted
her gaze, fighting to ignore the stinging ache behind her eyelids. “Don’t pretend to know anything
about me, because you don’t. Or about Kirel for that matter.”
Vida lifted a pale eyebrow. “Are you really so sure about that?”
“If you were truly as good as everyone thinks you are, you’d know that the Tradition was wrong
when it chose me. I can’t mate with your king. I won’t mate with your king.”
Blonde eyelashes swept down, hiding Vida’s eyes. For a moment, Nelina thought she’d caught a
glimpse of sadness in those ethereal orbs.
“He’s your king too,” Vida pointed out gently.
“Only because the Tradition says he is. I refuse to bow down to a man who chooses his mate
based on some random universal force.”
There was no mistaking the pain in Vida’s eyes when her head came up. “You think he has any
more choice in this than you do? We’re all servants in our own way. Some more than others. You, the
king, me…even Kirel. We’re all following a path that’s been laid out for us. One we’re helpless to
change.”
 Nelina crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “None of us are helpless. We have the ability to
make choices. We’re not mindless, heartless drones like other beings in the universe! We’re Arisian!”
“Precisely! The Tradition has protected us for millennia. Who are we to go against its wishes
now?”
Nelina didn’t answer. She strode to one side of the room where a massive bed took up the
majority of the space. The servants had draped its broad form in rich velvet for the night, clearly
believing that plain sheets weren’t good enough for what was to come.
Just the thought of the training sent a fiery jolt to her pussy. A drop of cream slid down her inner
thigh. She was grateful for the voluminous skirt that wouldn’t be easily stained from the inside of the
heavy folds. Her clothes had been washed sometime in the night and had been returned to her, since
she refused to wear anything else the servants had provided. The closet that stood against the far wall
groaned under the weight of a dozen bejeweled gowns but she’d barely glanced at them.
“They call to you, don’t they?”
Vida’s voice intruded upon Nelina’s thoughts. She blinked rapidly and found herself staring at the
colorful tapestry that hung above the bed. It showed the king’s three Guardians exactly as she’d
always thought of them—as threatening figures dressed in black standing just behind their king, one
hand clasped on the hilt of the curved blade each of them carried.
That had been the way she’d imagined them before she’d known Kirel walked among them. As
threatening, domineering, arrogant creatures who made her shiver with hatred and fear. Now the heat
that curled in her stomach and spread outward couldn’t be explained by either emotion.
Her pussy pulsed with renewed arousal each time her gaze lingered just a little too long on the
men’s broad shoulders, the firm chests, the lean hips. Most arresting of all were their eyes. It was the
only part of them left uncovered by the skella. Their gazes glowed with an inner fire that looked
almost supernatural, sending a wave of longing through her limbs.
She cleared her throat and pried her gaze away from the tapestries. “Not at all.” To prove it, she
glanced around the room, struggling to find something else to focus on.
In a heartbeat, she found it.
The servants had brought in a looking glass. Tall as a man and wide as half the longest wall in the
room, it stood at the edge of the bed, clearly mirroring the velvet-draped surface in its limpid pool.
On a nearby table sat a number of instruments of pleasure. Her gaze wandered over the silver bowl
filled with glistening liquid and the two phallus-shaped glass objects that rested on the table. After a
moment’s pause, she jerked her head away from the too-tempting sight.
Vida sat on the edge of the bed, set the staff down on the mattress and patted the space beside her.
The woman’s reflection shimmered in the full-length mirror.
Despite the apprehension that knotted her stomach, Nelina sat beside her. The need for comfort
was stronger than her fear. She didn’t pull away when Vida clasped her hands.
“I wish I could say I understand.” Vida’s fingers felt cool against her skin. She tightened her grip.
“But I really don’t.”
“Understand what?” Nelina asked, perplexed.
“Why you won’t allow yourself to enjoy this. Kirel and his men will take good care of you. The
Trials can be immensely pleasurable for a queen who grants herself permission to really feel what the
Tradition is offering her. And the king’s Guardians… Every one of them aches for love just as much
as you do.”
Nelina yanked her hand away, suddenly uncomfortable. “I don’t ache.” The lie fell easily enough
off her tongue, but her heart clenched inside her chest, as though an unseen force had reached in to
squeeze it.
“Is it the Trials then? Are they worrying you? Because they shouldn’t, you know. The men will be
gentle with you, and they’ll show you bliss unlike any you’ve ever imagined.”
“Would you like to switch places with me?” Nelina asked, only half joking. She eyed the white
body-hugging dress the woman wore and her matching veil. “Give me your clothes and I can be out of
here before anyone notices anything’s amiss. Blow out all the lamps in the room and when they come
for me, you’ve only to pretend. That way we’ll both get what we want.”
Vida’s melancholy smile caused Nelina to look away. “You don’t know anything about what I
want.” Although she was tossing Nelina’s words back at her, there wasn’t a hint of venom in Vida’s
voice. There was sorrow though, and so much despair that it seemed to turn the aura of magic that
hung around her a deep gray color. “The Tradition didn’t choose me. It chose you.”
The door opened abruptly, saving Nelina from having to answer. She glanced up and her heart
kicked into a frantic rhythm. One by one the Guardians filed into the room, Kirel leading the way.
Their presence suddenly made the spacious chamber feel much too small. The fact that they hadn’t
knocked or announced their presence in any way was as typical as it was infuriating.
“Think about what I said,” Vida whispered. Reaching over to give Nelina’s hand one last squeeze,
she rose and then headed for the door. She nodded to each Guardian as she passed him. In turn, the
men bowed low at the waist, showing her the respect she was due.
Without the additional female presence to temper the pure male essence radiating from the
Guardians, the vulnerability of her situation tightened Nelina’s throat, making it hard to breathe.
What was she still doing here? She should have figured out a way to escape the moment Kirel had
come to her room that first night and had made it clear what was expected of her. But like a fool,
she’d stayed. She’d told herself there were too many people, too few chances to make a break for it.
And perhaps that had been true. But she hadn’t even tried.
All because her cunt had so eagerly welcomed Kirel back into her body. Gods, how she still
craved his cock. She wanted to feel it sink deep into her pussy, to admire the sight of it glistening with
her juices, to feel it spurt every last drop of cum as her muscles milked him.
Except this time, she’d do it on her terms.
“I’ve made it clear I have no intention of mating with the king.” She tilted her chin, trying to sound
as haughty as possible. “I don’t understand why you’re here.”
“You didn’t think you could get rid of me that easily, did you, Nel?”
Nel. Recognition prodded her heart. He used to call her that infrequently and the nickname had
always made her smile.
She wasn’t smiling now. “I’d hoped.”
Their eyes met. His dark orbs simmered with longing and lust, muddling her mind, making it hard
to think straight. How could he seem so much like the man she’d fallen in love with and yet be so
different?
His voice was deeper now, more arrogant and authoritative, but it reverberated with the same
husky tonality she’d longed so desperately to hear just one more time.
 Distracted by the pounding of her heart and the rampant desire enflaming her body, Nelina hadn’t
noticed she’d wrung her hands together in her lap. With a sigh, she unclenched her aching fingers and
averted her gaze. The seasonal storm that had been lashing at the windows all day had intensified
once darkness had fallen and now it rattled the windowpanes, sending a low, howling moan to slither
through the wooden shutters.
“You’re going to let us begin your training, Nelina.” He moved to stand beside the bed but made
no attempt to touch her.
She thrust her chin up. “Why would I do that?”
Kirel lowered his head. His warm breath caressed the column of her throat, making her tremble.
“Because you want us to.”
 Chapter Six

“No.”
Kirel would have been more inclined to believe her if she didn’t look at him with those wide
fuck-me eyes, if her lips weren’t parted and glistening and if the scent of her arousal wasn’t strong
enough to make him want to inhale huge lungfuls of the stuff until her feminine aroma was all he could
smell for the rest of eternity.
“No?” He quirked an eyebrow, pretending to consider her rejection. “How can I be sure you mean
that?”
She set her mouth into a grim line. “You’ll have to take my word for it. It’s not like I can prove it
to you.”
An idea struck, the thought so devious to be almost too perfect. A grin tugged at the corners of his
mouth. He knew she couldn’t see it through the face mask, but she must have noticed something in his
eyes because she pulled back a fraction.
Her eyebrows drew down over the bridge of her nose. “What?”
He drew down his mask, placed one hand on either side of her and leaned in until her mouth was
only a breath away. “You are going to prove it to me, Nel.” He stroked his tongue over her lower lip.
A tremor ran through her and she pressed her lips together so tightly they turned white. He could
almost see the inner turmoil raging behind those beautiful blue eyes. “And you’re going to prove it to
Thor and Domenic too.”
She glanced up and behind him, startled. The color drained from her face as her gaze darted from
him to the Guardians then back again. “You wouldn’t!”
His grin broadened. “Oh yes, sweetheart. I would.”
She flung herself backward on the bed and scrambled to get away from him. He had only to jerk
his head in her direction and the men moved toward her, their steps determined and graceful, almost
predatory. The controlled aggression in their movements made his cock ache.
If not for the night before, when they’d come to him in the hot springs and had so skillfully soothed
the chaos thundering through his soul, he wasn’t sure he could stand here now. He was far from
detached where Nelina was concerned, but being able to release some of that pent-up frustration had
given him back a measure of control.
It wasn’t nearly enough to make him forget that he was ultimately here to train Nelina to pleasure
another man. Nothing would wipe away that cruel knowledge. But at least his heart no longer
threatened to break through his rib cage at the mere suggestion of Domenic or Thor touching her,
tasting her, pleasuring her.
He watched with growing arousal as Nelina fought them. She clawed and kicked, punching with
utter abandon at anyone who came near. Her desperate, angry cries slid through the room into his
cock, making his already pounding erection ache.
In the end, the only thing she succeeded in accomplishing was ripping off Thor’s face mask. His
strong profile showed off a square jaw dusted with the hint of a golden beard. Far from looking
unkempt, the facial hair gave him a savage appearance that only intensified the raw glint of lust in his
eyes.
The men held her down on the bed with ease, using no added force aside from the pressure of
broad hands on her shoulders. Her hair hung like a dark curtain around her flushed face. She panted,
her narrowed eyes flinging poisoned darts in his direction.
Kirel ignored her fury. “The mating Trials are divided into three parts. The lessons will follow
the same path. We’ll begin with the first. The Test of Submission.”
There was no mistaking the nervous squirm that had her pressing her legs together. No matter how
much she tried to hide it, the strength of her arousal was too strong to be denied. Oh how he’d enjoy
making her face up to what her body already accepted.
She tilted her chin up. “I won’t submit to anyone. Not to you, not to these men and definitely not to
your king.”
Defiant to the last, his Nelina. He loved that about her. Gods, who was he kidding? He loved
everything about her.
The thought was so unexpected and unwelcome it made his heart clench. He stifled the longing
and tender anguish that coiled in his gut, pushing it down to the deepest recesses of his soul. He had a
job to do. And the only way he could do it was by keeping his emotions where they belonged. Locked
away. Forever.
“Right. Because you don’t want us.”
She clenched her jaw. “You’re finally beginning to understand. How wonderful for you,” she
ground out between gritted teeth.
“Then you won’t mind if we find out for ourselves.” Not waiting for Nelina to reply, he nodded at
Thor and Domenic. “Strip her.”
The men did as they were told. Their fingers dug into the creamy skin of her shoulders as they
reached for her white blouse. She squirmed and thrashed against the mattress, fighting them every step
of the way. The fabric ripped audibly, revealing full breasts, the perfect spheres heaving with the
force of her ragged breathing. Her dark nipples stood out in sharp contrast to her skin, taut and ripe
for his mouth.
“The skirt too?” Domenic asked.
Nelina’s body went rigid. Her stomach muscles flexed and she tried to yank her arms out of the
men’s grasp but succeeded only in causing them to tighten their grip.
“No,” Kirel said.
Nelina’s tense shoulders relaxed a fraction. Something that looked more like disappointment than
relief flashed across her face but she smoothed her features into a haughty mask before he could call
her on it.
“The skirt’s mine. As is the proof I’m looking for. Hold her legs.”
“You’re unbelievable!” Nelina cried out. “Is this the only way you can have a woman now? By
having your goons force her legs open for you?”
A smile tugged at his mouth. “Hardly. But if you’d be kind enough to open up for me willingly, we
can end the game and get on with the training.”
She pursed her lips together. “Never.”
 “Have it your way,” Kirel said.
Nelina refused to make it easy on him, so he had to wait until the men adjusted their grip. She used
her body and those maddeningly full breasts to her best advantage, sliding against the velvet sheets,
her flesh slipping and gliding away from the Guardians’ questing fingers.
After what seemed to Kirel like an eternity, they’d managed to pin her down into the mattress.
Each man had one arm hooked around the back of her knees, and they lifted her legs off the bed. The
folds of her skirt fell between her open thighs, hiding her sweet cunt.
Kirel climbed on the bed and kneeled between her spread legs. Throwing his hood back, he began
to unlace the mask.
“I’m going to ask you one more time,” Kirel said. “Do you want us to train you? To fuck you? To
show you pleasure unlike any you’ve ever experienced?”
The muscles in her throat constricted as she swallowed hard. She couldn’t hold his gaze. A low
distraught noise came from her throat. “Moon Gods take you! I’ve told you before.”
He slid his hand beneath the hem of her skirt and gently caressed her inner thigh. He could feel the
heat emanating from her core and knew what he’d find when he finally brought the game to its
inevitable conclusion. “No. You lied before. I’m asking you for the truth now.”
He felt the tremor that shook her and knew without a doubt she wanted this as much as he did.
Maybe even more.
He swallowed past the lump that formed in his throat. If it were up to him, he’d send Thor and
Domenic out of the room and he’d fuck her senseless until they were both sweaty and spent, limbs
tangled in the wrinkled bed sheets. And then he’d take her away from here.
But neither fantasy was possible. He had his duty. And she had the mating Trials to prepare for.
Neither of them could delay any longer.
When she didn’t reply, he inched his fingers forward along her hot, satiny skin. It wasn’t long
before he found the moisture that had leaked from her pussy down her inner thigh. The evidence of her
arousal was all he needed yet he pushed on, unwilling—no, unable—to stop.
“Tell me again how much you don’t want us,” he taunted as the tip of his middle finger brushed
against one velvety fold. Her entire body jerked. Her eyes were closed now, her head thrown back on
the pillow as though she’d already lost the fight. Kirel pushed a fingertip inside her slit. The soft,
tender skin of her cunt wrapped around the intrusion, welcoming him home.
His finger slipped inside her with ease. As he’d expected, she was soaked through, her cream
drenching her labia and dripping from her fevered cunt. Her tight channel was like an inferno of
white-hot embers that clenched around him, milking him, tugging at his self-control with every
squeeze.
“I don’t—”
“Stop.” Thor held a finger to her lips, silencing her. “Enough. If you want to hurt him, find another
way. You’re meant for the king, Nelina. Whether you want to admit it or not, you’re royalty. A queen
in the making. And we’re here to worship you as loyal subjects should.”
She swallowed hard. Her eyelashes fluttered, casting long shadows over her pale cheeks. She
glanced down between her legs at Kirel and ran the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip. “Why
couldn’t you just say that?”
A scoff escaped his throat. He wasn’t the kind of man who relied on flowery words and poetry to
get what he needed. For that matter, neither was Thor. So where on Aris had all that come from?
Could it be that the other man knew what Nelina needed to hear even more than Kirel did? Had he
been so self-absorbed that he’d been unable to realize how much farther tenderness would get him
than commands and barked orders?
Kirel scowled. Regret swept through him on the heels of a wave of turbulent loathing. Did the
Fates truly hate him so much as to repeatedly taunt him with everything he couldn’t have? Nelina was
meant for Shivar. Kirel could learn to live with that. But it seemed even Thor knew how to get to her
better than he did. That realization grated on his last nerve, leaving bloody furrows in its wake.
When he spoke, his voice came out savage and raw. “You want to be worshipped, my queen?”
She sank her teeth into her lower lip and nodded almost imperceptibly. It was enough. With a
growl that broke free from somewhere deep in his chest, Kirel tossed her skirt up over her waist and
bared her glistening cunt.
Gods, she was stunning. Still kneeling, he inhaled her musky, feminine scent and let his gaze linger
on the path from the tips of her small, delicate feet, up the length of her long legs. When he reached
the curls at the apex of her thighs, his throat constricted. She was even more perfect than he
remembered. Pink pussy lips protruded slightly from between a thatch of dark silken hair. Dewy
moisture dotted the curls and slicked them to her skin, betraying the arousal she’d tried so hard to
hide.
“The Test of Submission is all about proving to the Council you can be trained to accept
everything that’s given to you,” Kirel said while he feasted on the sight of her. “A good queen to Aris
must be able to graciously receive every pleasure granted to her by her position. But more
importantly, she must be able to find bliss in every situation, to enjoy each development, no matter
how foreign. Do you think you can do that, Nel?”
“No.” The word came out as a breathless squeak.
“The Guardians will teach you. That’s our duty, and like everything else we do, we’ll perform it
mercilessly, with single-minded determination.”
“Failure isn’t an option.” Although the lilt of Domenic’s teasing tone brought a touch of light to the
heavy tension in the room, it wasn’t enough to relax the chains constricting around Kirel’s soul.
He lowered his head until he could breathe in the aroma of Nelina’s arousal. It filled his nose and
mouth, enveloped him in her sweet, musky scent. It seemed to curl through his veins, sink low into his
belly and then continue lower to slip inside his balls and fondle him mercilessly.
Despair wrapped dark tendrils around his heart. There was a tumultuous hunger inside Nelina just
waiting to be unleashed. While she basked in the training that would consume the rest of her nights, it
was his duty to see to it that she grew to accept and desire the Trials to come. And all it would cost
him, all that the Tradition asked from him, was his heart, his soul and everything in between.
He closed his eyes. The tip of his tongue swept out and barely brushed Nelina’s folds but it was
enough to allow her flavor to seep into his tongue. His heart soared, crying out with recognition. He’d
dreamed about tasting her and now here she was, her cunt flush with his lips.
His balls drew up tightly in his sac, pulsing with the need for release. The sensations flooding his
senses were almost too much to bear.
“This is your pleasure, your fantasy.” Thor seemed to speak from somewhere far away, his voice
providing a welcome distraction from the ache spreading through Kirel’s limbs. “Look into the
mirror. Watch Kirel’s mouth move against your folds. Watch him, Nelina. Watch him lick your pussy.”

Slowly Nelina turned her head. For a moment, her brain refused to make sense of what she was
seeing. The scene reflected in the full-length mirror was so carnal and unabashedly deviant that it
couldn’t possibly be something she’d ever be involved in.
She looked sinfully disheveled. Her struggle with the Guardians had left her long brown hair a
tousled mess. Her face was flushed a deep shade of pink that swept down over the column of her
throat to tint her full, quivering breasts. Her lips were parted on a sigh. And her nipples… Gods,
she’d never seen her nipples so hard. They stood peaked and stiff, throbbing with an inner fire that
traveled through her veins and left molten lava in its wake.
On either side of her hips, a man held her down. Thor’s broad back was turned to the mirror and
she could make out the delicious flex of his buttocks beneath his tight uniform. The sight was pure
male and absolutely mouthwatering. His massive physique blocked Domenic’s body from reflecting
in the looking glass but it revealed her legs flung up in the air.
Kirel knelt between them. The curve of his back and the sensual line of his hips encased in black
fabric sent prickles of anticipation coursing down her spine. She couldn’t see his head and at that
moment, she desperately needed to.
“Move.” The word was a breathless whisper murmured on a sigh, but it was the most she could
manage.
Thor glanced down at her. Nelina stared back, resolve steeling her gaze. She didn’t speak but
Thor nodded as though he understood. He released her leg and swept his fingertips over the curve of
her hip to settle on the underside of her breast. Moving up to kneel behind her head, he removed the
remaining barrier standing between her and the sight of pure, masculine sin.
“Release her,” Thor said. “She’s done fighting.”
Domenic hesitated. She saw the fire raging in his eyes reflected through the opening in his face
mask. His cock jutted upward just above her right hip, tenting his pants. He pressed his groin against
her, letting her feel the thickness of his erection.
Kirel chose that moment to delve his talented tongue deep into her slit.
Nelina’s cry echoed off the walls of the room. Tingling rivers of sensation swirled through her
body, starting in her clit and traveling out to blossom on her overheated skin.
A heartbeat later, she was thrown completely off balance. Domenic released her and her limbs felt
laden down, quivering with sudden uncertainty. Before she could place her heels on the mattress,
Kirel took over. He grabbed her legs and slid them over his shoulders.
A sigh escaped her throat. She wrapped her ankles behind his head and thrust her hips upward
toward his mouth. The motion was instinctual, driven by desire rather than any coherent thought.
His warm tongue ran slow, maddening circles over her soaked folds. Biting her lip to hold back a
whimper, she dug her nails into her palms. Her gaze remained glued to the mirror, fascinated by the
erotic imagery playing out before her.
The muscles in her stomach rippled with every thrust of Kirel’s tongue. Her breasts bounced
slightly, the trembling mounds swinging as though pushed by an invisible force. Thor’s tanned fingers
stood out in stark contrast to her pale skin. He feathered a thumb over one peaked nipple, drawing a
moan from her throat.
 A motion from her right caught her eye, shifting her gaze to Domenic. He stood beside the bed and
stripped off his skella, drawing the garment down slowly over his body, revealing lean muscles
covered in a light dusting of chestnut brown hair. His flat abs tensed as he drew off his boots and slid
the pants off his long, powerful legs.
His erect cock rose from among a nest of curls. Large balls drew up tight in a velvety sac.
Noticing her gaze, Domenic removed his tunic, mask and hood then cupped his balls in the palm of his
hand and cradled them like the precious gems they were.
“Pleasure can’t be forced upon someone.” Thor’s deep, sensual voice penetrated the curtain of
lust that had enveloped her, forcing its way into her mind. “Anyone could touch your soft cunt or pinch
your hard nipple.” He rolled the stiff bud between his fingers to demonstrate. “But you wouldn’t
enjoy it unless you trusted the source of the caress.”
Kirel lifted his head from her depths. His chin glistened with her juices. She’d expected more
overbearing arrogance or an infuriating smirk of satisfaction, but neither showed on his features. His
dark eyes held nothing but liquid fire that seemed to scorch each part of her body they touched.
She squirmed slightly, suddenly uncomfortable.
“Do you trust us, Nel?” Kirel drew a long finger over her folds as he spoke, summoning another
shiver from somewhere deep within her.
Trust him? The man had lied to her. He’d pretended to be someone he clearly wasn’t and then
he’d yanked her from everything and everyone she knew to thrust her into a life she didn’t want and
force her into a mating ceremony she had no intention of carrying through with.
“No,” she answered honestly.
Domenic climbed on the bed. He kneeled beside her and drew the tip of his cock over the line of
her rib cage. The contact of his warm, silky skin left a bead of moisture to trail on her flesh. A drop of
hot liquid ran down her thigh.
“Maybe not with your mind,” Domenic said. “But no one in this room doubts your body feels
otherwise.”
“Not even you.” Kirel pressed his lips softly to her slit. He positioned his mouth perfectly over
her opening so he had only to dart his tongue forward and it would glide inside her eager channel.
Inner muscles spasmed in the grip of dark hunger. Gods, she needed to be filled! How much
longer did they intend to torture her?
Either they were going to fuck her or they weren’t. But this sensual torment was almost more than
she could take.
Wicked thoughts ran through her mind, each bolder than the last. Kirel’s talented tongue was
driving her to distraction. She longed to give in to every sensation coursing through her body but
whatever was left of her pride refused to let her submit. Trials or not, she didn’t intend to be at the
castle long enough for it to matter whether she learned anything they tried to teach her.
She lifted her hand and crooked a finger in Domenic’s direction. “Come here.” He raised an
eyebrow and for the first time she realized how young he was. His strong jaw and close-cropped dark
hair made him look older at first glance but his hazel eyes betrayed him. They shone with an excited,
ravenous sheen, as though he could barely contain his eager desires.
He leaned his head toward her. Nelina stopped him with a shake of her head. “No. I want your
cock.”
 Kirel’s movements stilled. His mouth remained pressed to her pussy but she could feel the tension
that wrung his muscles. It seemed she’d hit a nerve.
An absurd sense of satisfaction coiled in her chest. So Kirel wasn’t as cocky and unaffected by
her presence as he pretended to be? Hope thrived inside her. She’d spent eight long years thinking of
no one but him while he’d played her for a fool all along. Worse yet, when she’d finally learned the
truth, her stubborn heart and body had refused to accept it. She’d responded to him as though no time
had passed.
Until this moment, he’d been in control. That was about to change.
She twisted her head to look up to where Thor still knelt. “Take off your pants. Let me see you…
all of you.”
Kirel lifted his head. The color ebbed from his face. “Nelina—” He pressed his lips together so
hard they turned white, almost disappearing under the pressure. Gods, he looked incredible. She’d
always thought him handsome, but time had been even kinder to him than she’d have thought possible.
Dark hair curled at the temples without a hint of gray to mar its silky sheen. His square jaw and
prominent nose gave him an imperious, confident appearance. She hadn’t seen him smile, but she
remembered his one-sided grin. She wondered if that crooked smile would instantly transform his
face, giving him the carefree, sexy-as-sin look she’d summoned from the deepest recesses of her mind
night after night.
“It’s cock you want then?” He stood, tension bunching his muscles. She almost smiled at the way
his hands fisted at his sides, his careful self-control slipping bit by bit. “Then that’s what you’ll
have.”
He stripped down quickly and without ceremony. A minute later he stood before her in all his
naked glory. For a moment, Nelina couldn’t breathe.
A sprinkling of dark hair covered his legs. His powerful thighs flexed with every step he took,
drawing her attention to the magnificent cock that swelled hot and hard in his hand. He ran his palm
over the shaft from balls to tip, drawing an involuntary sound from somewhere deep in her throat.
She remembered that cock. She’d dreamed of it for years, the need to wrap her lips around it and
close her eyes as she welcomed it inside the warm heat of her mouth overwhelming all other
fantasies.
A deep scar that hadn’t been there eight years earlier ran low over Kirel’s left hip. The thin band
of slightly puckered flesh started at the tip of his groin and coiled over his hipbone to disappear from
view. She swallowed hard, wondering how far back it went. Her heart ached for him. The need to
reach out and touch him, comfort him, draw him into her mouth was overwhelming.
Perhaps she wasn’t in control after all.
It took all her self-discipline to shut her eyes and block out the sight of his magnificent body.
“You.” She pointed in Domenic’s direction. “I want to taste you.”
A low rumbling chuckle came from Thor. “And what would you do with me?”
“I want…” The words died on her tongue. Her lips felt numb and she wasn’t sure she could get
the rest of the phrase out. “Let me feel you,” she said at last.
When she reached out her hand, she was distraught to find it shaking. A moment later, Thor
rewarded her by laying the heavy length of his erection across her palm.
Nelina closed her hand, enveloping the throbbing shaft in her fingers. The helmet-like tip of a
shaft nudged her mouth. She opened, eagerly letting Domenic’s rod slide between her lips.
The sensations were so wanton, so deliciously wicked, a fresh wave of cream flooded her pussy,
moistening her folds anew.
She didn’t know what Kirel was doing, didn’t care.
Yes, you do.
The maddening voice inside her head conjured images of Kirel’s fist clamped around his
outthrust, glistening erection. The fantasy was so vivid she could make out the corded tendons and the
straining flesh of his heavy testicles. Blue veins throbbed in his shaft, peeking out from underneath his
fingers.
For a moment, she pictured him jerking on the smooth flesh, circling his thumb and index finger
just below the crown of his cock and yanking hard, causing a jet of pearly white fluid to spurt forth
and land on her cheek, her shoulder, her breasts.
She moaned and sucked Domenic’s cock harder, his musky arousal flooding her tongue.
Something cold and impossibly hard spread her nether lips. She gasped and opened her eyes.
Jerking her head upward to peer between her legs, she caught sight of Kirel slipping the tip of a glass
object into her pussy.
She cried out around a mouthful of cock. Domenic leaned over her. His dark nether curls took up
most of her field of vision, blocking her sight of Kirel. She remembered the toy he held in his hand.
She’d seen it laying on the table the servants had brought in.
Approximately seven inches in length and flawlessly smooth, it mirrored the shape of an immense
cock. The rounded knob at its tip had confirmed her suspicions.
The edge of a smaller, slimmer object slipped down her soaked slit. When Kirel pressed it
against the tight ring of her anus, Nelina cried out. Domenic withdrew, leaving her squirming. “You
can’t—”
“You wanted cock, didn’t you?” His honey-filled voice caused a trembling sensation to start low
in her stomach. “That’s what this is for. I’m going to prepare you for as much cock as you can
handle.”
She groaned and tightened her grip on Thor’s erection. A hiss escaped the man’s lips. Murmuring
an apology, she loosened her grasp and slid her palm up the length of his rod. Her fingertips caressed
the velvety softness of his balls.
A ringing smack echoed through the room and it took Nelina a moment to realize Kirel had
spanked her. Shock careened through her. A low burn began to tingle across the back of her thigh,
where her ass met her leg.
Kirel thrust the thick object between her nether lips. In two smooth strokes, he’d inserted at least
half its length inside her pussy. Her swollen folds pouted, fluttering with savage desire.
Another smack followed the first. Nelina’s back arched. Her mouth opened on a scream that
halted in her throat and Domenic used that opportunity to slide his cock back inside her mouth.
Her inner walls contracted hard around the object Kirel had shoved inside her. Hips lifting off the
mattress, she swirled her tongue around Domenic’s cock. Powerful fingers spread her ass cheeks
open and nudged the smaller object against her tight hole.
Panic bloomed through her body. She remembered having seen that object too. Also made of
glass, this one boasted cylindrical beads at equal intervals along its length. At the bottom, it stretched
out to accommodate a wider base.
She shifted on the mattress, struggling to bring her bottom down and halt his quest to insert the toy
in her ass. Kirel obviously had other plans. He slid the object home slowly, its slick surface
stretching her anal ring. Grabbing the back of her knees, he lifted her hips off the bed to give him
greater access.
“Gods, you fuck beautifully,” Kirel said.
She felt a flush creep up her cheeks. Determined not to let Kirel see how much his words affected
her, she slid her lips lower over Domenic’s silky-smooth shaft. Taking it deeper inside her mouth, she
felt the tip nudge the back of her throat.
The slightly bristly texture of Domenic’s curls nudged her nose, tickling her skin. She released the
shaft briefly to slide her tongue down its length and sweep it over the soft sac protecting his testicles
then took him back inside her mouth.
Domenic groaned and fisted his hands in his hair. “Mother of Moons, she feels good. Her mouth is
hotter than a furnace.”
“She could drive a man to madness with that mouth,” Kirel agreed.
Tears stung the back of her eyelids. Her fist pumped Thor’s cock harder.
The two objects Kirel had thrust inside her moved in unison, stroking places inside her body she
hadn’t even been aware of. Kirel had released her legs, but she couldn’t bring herself to lower them
and end the torrent of pleasure flowing through her.
Gods, it felt good to be filled! She’d never before experienced this level of sensation. While
she’d never admit it to him, Kirel had been the most skillful lover she’d ever had. Still, he’d only
possessed one cock, one tongue. There were limits to what he could achieve. Not so when the three
Guardians ravaged her. Their attention was wholly focused on her pleasure. Each touch brought
exquisite ripples of delight, prickling her skin with heat.
Domenic’s male musk pervaded her senses with every breath until she felt as though she were
drowning in it and there was no force on Aris that could save her from her fate.
Kirel’s mouth was made of pure fire as it skimmed across her heated flesh. He pushed the glass
toy inside her pussy to the hilt and swirled the tip of his tongue over her plump, swollen inner folds.
The tension that had been gradually tightening her clit exploded in a blast of heat and light.
Domenic stilled his movements inside her mouth, letting her ride the unending wave of sheer pleasure
that owned her body.
For what felt like an eternity, she hovered on the crest of release, her inner walls clenching and
squeezing around the objects embedded deep within her. Her breasts quivered as she trembled, the
distended nipples hard and aching.
“Mine.”
It was more of a growl than a word, but Kirel’s command was unmistakable. She almost cried out
when he pulled the object out of her cunt, leaving her channel empty. Her inner walls bit down out of
sheer instinct and finding nothing, fluttered wildly.
Her pussy wept, protesting its emptiness. Cream slipped from between her folds and slicked the
crevice of her ass. Despite her gasps, her mouth never stopped moving. Domenic’s cock hardened to
impossible proportions, the spongy tip nudging the back of her throat with each thrust. Twice she felt
her gag reflexes kick in but each time Domenic shifted and withdrew almost entirely, letting her catch
her breath.
The head of the massive toy pressed into her soaked folds. Relief pounded through her, turning her
flesh into a quivering mass of nerve endings. Her head reeled from the overwhelming sensations.
She couldn’t focus. Domenic’s cock slid out of her mouth entirely. She stroked Thor’s cock with a
frantic rhythm, feeling the warmth that swelled his erection, riding the pulsing twitches that throbbed
and pounded against her palm.
The scorching heat that emanated from Thor’s shaft was mirrored in the warmth of the object
between her legs. It felt softer than it should, yet hard as steel. It plunged inside her in one smooth
thrust, impaling her pussy, stretching it around its massive girth.
Nelina threw her head back. She didn’t recognize the frustrated cry that echoed through the room
as her own but it must have been because nothing else made sense.
It’s not the toy. You’re letting him fuck you.
Kirel buried his cock inside her balls-deep and the taunting whisper fled to the darkest recesses
of her mind.
He leaned forward, the solid bulk of his body pressing the slimmer object deeper into her ass,
trapping it against the bed. “You liked that, didn’t you?” he murmured against her hair. “Being
thoroughly taken by three men. Being spanked. You loved every moment of it. I knew you would. I
know everything about you, Nel.”
Denial settled thick and heavy on her tongue. Tears burned the back of her throat. She wanted to
scream, to tell him she hated him for what he’d done to her—for what he was still doing to her—but
the words wouldn’t come.
“I’m going to continue fucking you now.” It was a promise and a threat all rolled into one. “Your
sweet pussy is going to ride my cock until you can’t take it anymore.”
Nelina gasped. Gods help her, she knew she should say no, push him off her. But she didn’t want
him to stop. Not ever.
It was as though her body had a mind of its own. Her hips rocked back and forth. Kirel’s thick
shaft filled her needy cunt. Each motion drove him deeper inside her. His chest was pressed against
her breasts and she could feel the rhythm of his heartbeat thudding through her.
The intimacy of the position caused her to bite down on the inside of her cheek. A lick away from
her mouth, Domenic had taken himself in hand. The head of his cock was flushed a deep purple and
clear liquid oozed from its tip as the man jerked his shaft with firm, even strokes.
Arousal filled her veins, muddled her mind. She felt half drunk with it. The sensations that poured
through her intensified with every hard thrust of Kirel’s cock.
His thumb found her clit trapped between them. A rush of heat turned her sex into liquid fire,
sending deep tremors pulsing through her blood-engorged nub. Kirel rotated the tip of his thumb over
her clit just a fraction and the world once again exploded around her.
Her cunt tightened and fluttered, spasming in rapture. Kirel’s breath came in hard rasps in
Nelina’s ear.
“Oh fuck, woman!” He grunted one final time, and through a fog of frenzied ecstasy, Nelina felt
him unleash his seed inside her.
The knowledge that she’d caused him to lose control with nothing more than her pulsing inner
walls caused her climax to intensify. Every muscle in her body tightened and rippled, matching the
frantic rhythm of Kirel’s seed spurting inside her cunt.
Domenic grunted and Nelina watched awestruck as he clenched both hands around his shaft hard
enough to turn his knuckles white. Pearly fluid burst from the tip of his cock. A hot blast of cum hit her
cheek, splattered over her throat and dripped down to the sheets.
It didn’t take long until Thor released his pent-up desire as well. Hot liquid spilled into her palm
and oozed between her knuckles. Thor’s heavy grunts filled the air.
The musky aroma of cum was intoxicating. She breathed in deeply, drinking her fill of the
exhilarating scent.
Numb with exhaustion, she didn’t protest when Kirel collapsed on the bed and pulled her down
against him. Her legs splayed over his in a tangle of limbs. His chest rose and fell with the force of
his breathing, pillowing her head.
He drew a deep breath into his lungs then released it on a shuddering sigh. A small smile curved
his lips. She sucked in a breath, wanting to savor the sight, but it disappeared in the blink of an eye,
leaving her to wonder whether she’d seen it at all.
Nelina fought to keep her eyes open. Fatigue coursed through her muscles, enveloping her in a
deep fog that tugged at her lashes. Held close in his powerful arms, she wanted to pretend all was
right with the world.
From behind her, she heard the rustle of clothes. “Gods, she fucked like a queen.” It was
Domenic’s voice. Nelina knew she should have been offended, but she couldn’t bring herself to
muster the depth of emotion it would take to argue with his assessment.
“That’s because in four days, she will be,” Thor said.
Kirel tightened his grip and pulled her closer to his chest. “Four days,” he murmured. “So soon?”
Silence stretched on a beat too long. Thor sighed. Nelina opened her eyes just in time to see him
lay a hand on Kirel’s shoulder. “We have to go.”

Kirel growled low in his throat and tangled his fingers in Nelina’s silky locks. He twirled a
section around his thumb, marveling at the way the dark tendril contrasted with his pale skin. It had
been too long since he’d felt the kiss of the sun on his flesh. For years, he’d been a prisoner of his
duty, trapped inside the stone walls of the castle.
“Not yet.”
The grip on his shoulder tightened. “Now, Kirel. I can’t let you be alone with her. There’s too
much at stake.”
Kirel narrowed his eyes. The turmoil swirling through his mind must have been evident on his
features if Thor thought it necessary to forbid him from seeing Nelina outside the training sessions.
He sighed and closed his eyes for a brief moment, inhaling her scent. He wanted to imprint her on
his senses, to remember what it felt like to hold her long after she’d become queen. Long after he’d
turned her over to share Shivar’s bed.
With a groan that seemed torn from his soul, Kirel released his hold on her. She smiled up at him
through somnolent blue eyes. The sight of that sleepy grin, so tender and vulnerable, clenched his
heart.
A soft cloth had been left on the nightstand beside a bowl of clean water. Rising from the bed,
Kirel reached for it. After submerging it in the clear liquid, he wrung out the excess moisture.
 Leaning over the bed, he slowly slid the cloth over her cheek, her throat, down her chest into the
valley between her full breasts. Thor scowled while Kirel circled a dark areola, watching the nipple
tighten appealingly beneath the soft caress.
Longing tore him up inside. He wanted nothing more than to sweep her into his arms and press her
down into the soft feather mattress. He wanted to hear her murmur his name. And then he wanted to
watch her eyes widen with passion as he made her come again and again and again.
Domenic was already dressed and waiting by the door. “If you’re done fondling our lovely queen,
some of us have other things to do tonight.”
“Future queen.” The correction came out as a whispered growl.
Nelina’s lashes fluttered closed. She wriggled beneath his touch and his hand slid down farther,
over her belly and lower still to swipe at the cream between her legs.
Gods, that was his cum he was cleaning up. He yearned to wrench the cloth away and lave her
with his tongue, lapping up every last drop of moisture on her skin.
She stared at him through half-closed eyes. The smile had disappeared. For a chilling moment, he
thought she could see right through him. Not just into his thoughts but into his very soul.
“Do as they say, Kirel,” she whispered. “You don’t belong here any more than I do.”
Her words caught him by surprise. Struggling to make sense of what she meant, he dropped the
cloth on the nightstand. When he’d turned back, Nelina had already removed the toy from her body
and pulled the velvet bedspread around her. The thick material clung to her breasts, outlining each
sphere to mouthwatering perfection. A hint of beaded nipple pushed against the fabric.
A muscle jumped in Kirel’s jaw, alerting him that he’d clenched his teeth and fisted his hands at
his sides without knowing it. He forced his tense muscles to relax.
“Right.” He yanked his pants off the floor and pulled them on without looking at her. He stepped
into his boots and tugged his tunic over his head at the same time, not caring how disheveled he’d
look as he strolled through the castle. A moment later he had the mask tied back into place and the
hood drawn over his head. “Let’s go.”
He didn’t look back as he stormed through the door. Thor and Domenic followed, their footsteps
echoing hollowly in the empty corridor.
“There’s going to be a guard placed at this door,” Thor said, his voice booming impossibly loud
against the stone walls. “In case you’re thinking about coming back later, don’t bother. He’ll have
strict instructions not to let anyone in…or out.”
Kirel spun around quickly, fingernails digging into his palms. His knuckles itched to punch
something and at the moment, Thor made a tempting target. “Would you also like to hold my cock for
me while I use the urinal?”
Thor crossed his arms over his chest. Strong muscles bulged against the fabric, showing off his
toned physique to perfection. Despite his anger, Kirel felt himself grow hard.
“I’m not concerned about your ability to handle your cock. It’s keeping it in your pants I’m
worried about.”
Unable to keep his feet still, Kirel paced the width of the hallway. “I thought she was here to be
trained.”
“She is. By all of us. Being alone with you right now would be detrimental to the progress we’ve
made.”
 Kirel felt his upper lip curl. “You don’t trust me.”
“Hey, no one’s saying that.” Domenic stepped up to Thor’s side, a sleek black shadow against the
older Guardian’s much larger form. “But right now, being with her isn’t in your best interest. Or in
hers.”
Kirel clenched his teeth so hard a jolt of pain traveled up the side of his jaw into his temple,
causing a throbbing headache to build behind his eyes. “Like you have a clue about what’s best for
me.”
The slow, roiling anguish that had been building in his chest exploded against his breastbone.
Fearing he’d do something he’d later regret, Kirel swept past his friends and kicked up his stride. A
heartbeat later he was running, putting as much distance between himself and the Guardians as
possible.
This time he intended to go somewhere they wouldn’t find him. He couldn’t handle any more
well-meaning bits of advice. And he certainly couldn’t take another visit like the one they’d surprised
him with in the hot springs. Just thinking about the way Dom and Thor had touched him and coaxed
him to climax made fire sweep through his veins. Between the effect they had on him and Nelina’s
intoxicating presence, no wonder he wasn’t able to think straight.
Outside, the wind slammed fragmented bits of rock against the side of the castle, clinking against
the windowpanes. Changing direction, Kirel headed for the central tower. He needed to be sure he
could get a moment’s peace. No one would think to look for him up there.
His booted feet rang out as he raced up the narrow, circular steps leading to the turret. He pushed
hard against the wooden door and felt the wind shove back from the opposite side. Grunting with the
effort, he rammed the door with his left shoulder and gave a satisfied cry when the portal budged to
give him access to the outside world.
Dust swirled around his body, lashing at any part of him exposed to the intense gale. The wind
whipped his hood, snatching it back, baring his head. The storm attacked almost at once, depositing
bits of flayed rock and infernal red dust in his hair.
He didn’t care. Up here, far above the bustling activity of the castle, away from the pressures of
duty and loyalty, he could finally think.
The mere act of ruminating over everything that had happened in the last few days was enough to
make his limbs quiver. If he’d known Nelina was out there somewhere, he’d have searched for her.
Despite the Tradition’s edicts that clearly stated Guardians could not take a mate, he’d have found a
way to be with her.
He wasn’t able to leave the castle unless he accompanied Shivar on state business, but he could
have attempted to bring Nelina here, to him. A fleeting smile tugged at his lips. She was a divine
cook. The castle’s chefs could have easily made use of her talents in the kitchen. Over the past eight
years, she could have warmed the king’s breakfast in the morning and heated up Kirel’s sheets at
night.
Instead, she’d spent that time thinking the king had snatched her lover from her bed simply to
satisfy his own cruel desires. And Kirel had tossed and turned in an empty bed, bringing himself to
shuddering climax again and again with no more than the haunting memory of her ghost for company.
The wind lashed his face. He turned his head away from the worst of it and his gaze fell on an
oval-shaped stained-glass window trimmed in shades of pale emerald. The tri-colored beams of the
moons illuminated it, as though shining a beacon meant just for him. He knew that window. Just
behind the tinted pane, Nelina slumbered restfully, recovering after the sensual diversion that for her
had been no more than a way to pass the time until she could figure out a way to escape her fate.
He grimaced and tugged his hood back into place. Little did she know there was no escaping fate.
If there had been, he’d have found a way to accomplish that a long time ago.
The Tradition toyed with them all. It did so under the pretense of protecting them and ensuring
their magic-driven civilization continued to thrive in a universe ruled by technology, but Kirel knew
better. The Fates delighted in tormenting those they were supposed to protect. They trifled with the
people to amuse themselves and likely cackled at the inability of Arisians to take control of their
destinies.
Well, to hell with that.
Not pausing to contemplate what he was about to do, Kirel dug his fingers into the side of the
heavy rock from which the castle had been carved and hooked a knee over the tall barrier surrounding
the tower. Heart hammering in his chest, he eyed the width of the narrow projection jutting out from
the stone half a foot away. There were such outcroppings of heavy rock at regular intervals along the
side of the castle wall but they were irregular, formed by nature over thousands of years.
Dust crept into his eyelashes, scratching his eyes each time he blinked. Struggling to see through a
blurred field of vision, he held his breath and stepped out from the comfort of the tower’s edge.
There, he hung suspended in space, gripping a narrow crevice with the tips of his fingers and using
his toes to support his weight.
Nelina’s window was halfway across the castle and down at least twenty feet from where he
stood.
Moon Gods help me. I can make it.
Moving agonizingly slow, Kirel crept along the side of the wall, inching from one jagged
protrusion to another, often failing to find corresponding chinks in the stone to which he could cling.
His heartbeat thundered. Blood roared in his ears, joining the cacophony of wailing wind as it
howled its displeasure at his intrusion into its territory.
The tri-colored moons cast pale beams through the dark, illuminating his way. Without their help,
he knew he wouldn’t have made it.
After what seemed to Kirel like an eternity, he found himself clinging to the rock just above
Nelina’s window. His fingertips had gone numb halfway through his trek.
Straining his quivering muscles, he scaled the rest of the way down and propped his feet on the
ledge of the windowsill. The window had been carved into the wall. He slid his palms down the side
edges of the sliced rock, finally reaching the bottom bracket supporting the glass.
It slid upward easily and he exhaled a sharp breath of relief. Gliding inside the room was
infinitely easier than scaling the wall had been and he quickly landed on the plush carpeting inside
Nelina’s chamber.
His head reeled. For a moment he could only stand enthralled and inhale the scent of cherries that
permeated the room. Blue, red and green-tinted light flowed through the open window, finding its way
through the storm to linger on Nelina’s sleeping form.
Her lithe, slender body was bare from the waist up. Her beautifully plump breasts lifted with
every breath, the nipples soft and puffy in the center of the dark areolas. Her crescent-shaped
birthmark glistened in the moonlight, inviting him to lower his head and sweep his tongue over it.
 The velvet sheet was bunched around her legs. It clung to her narrow waist and dipped in the
slight crevice between her legs, sending his imagination soaring as he took in the curved triangle at
the apex of her thighs.
“I won’t let you touch me. Take me,” Nelina said in a husky whisper. “Not without them.”
Her words slowed his racing thoughts. Understanding struck, weighed down by the deep ache of
despair. He flexed his fingers at his sides to keep from touching her. When he spoke, his voice was
hardly recognizable to his own ears. The wind howled through the interior of the room but he didn’t
raise his voice to be heard. “You think you need them. The Guardians…your protectors. To protect
you from me.”
She lifted her head and propped it on an outstretched elbow. Her hair fell around her face in a
beautifully rumpled sheet of dark satin. The sight of her sent an excruciating mix of immense joy and
extreme pain to mingle in his chest.
She licked her lips, the gesture too quick to have been deliberate but it still managed to send a
surge of heat straight into his groin.
“Maybe I’m afraid of you.”
“Of me?” He pushed the window closed with his fingertips, feeling his way, never taking his eyes
off her. “Or of what you feel for me?”
“Is there a difference?”
In three strides he’d crossed the distance to the bed, yanking his mask off as he went. Gathering
her into his arms, he kissed her quick and hard. He made no pretense at striving for romance but
simply pushed his tongue between her lips and inside her soft, velvety mouth.
A surprised groan escaped her lips. He captured it with his own, trapping the sound inside the
enclosure their sudden connection had formed. For a moment, he forgot why he’d come here. He
didn’t think of the king or of the Guardians or of his duty.
He thought only of her. Of the way her breasts pressed against his chest, infinitely soft and curvy
and warm. Of the way her lips felt pliant against his demanding mouth, of the way she tasted like
cherries and sleep, of the little mewling sounds she made low in her throat as he kissed her.
When he pulled away, he was surprised to find his body quivering, not with lewd desire but with
a deep-seated tenderness that unfurled through his veins and shook him to the very core.
“Let me hold you.” The request came out on a hoarse whisper. If she refused, he’d leave without
protest but he couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t crumble outside the door. “Please.”
 Chapter Seven

She should have said no.

If she’d known she’d be waking up curled into the crook of Kirel’s arm with the unabashedly
masculine scent of musk enveloping her in a haven of lust and comfort and warmth, she would have.
Maybe.
Sunlight streamed in through the stained-glass window. The colored pane filtered the bright light,
muting it to a dull reddish-yellow. Maddeningly, the sun’s rays seemed to caress the dusting of
shadow on Kirel’s cheeks and tangle in his dark locks, the soft wave of light glinting off his
cheekbones and shining on his black lashes. His mouth was open a fraction and a slow, satisfied
rumble emanated from deep within his chest.
Taking great care not to wake him, she lifted herself to a sitting position. She felt the absence of
his body heat like a physical presence that had suddenly been torn away. It took all the discipline she
could muster to steel her nerves against the sudden compulsion to burrow against the lean line of his
body and place her head on his chest.
Where she belonged.
Blinking back the sting of tears that had crept unnoticed to prick her eyes, Nelina drew in a deep,
cleansing breath. Unfortunately the air was filled with the heady scent of spilled cum and slumbering
male, neither one helping to clear her muddled thoughts.
The feelings streaming through her were borne of pure feminine desire. The sight of Kirel in her
bed drove a pulsing ache deep between her legs, straight to her clit.
It was all his fault of course. She’d been adamant that she wouldn’t let him fuck her when she’d
opened her eyes to find his unmistakable silhouette in the middle of her room. Thinking back, that was
the biggest mistake she could have made.
But Gods, she’d never expected him to assent to her absurd request!
Yet he’d done just that. When he’d asked to hold her, he’d meant he only wanted to hold her. She
remembered watching him strip quickly, knowing it was only a matter of time until he’d force her onto
her back and sheathe his cock inside her again. But she’d been wrong. Dead wrong.
Instead of satisfying his carnal needs inside her body, he’d pulled her into his arms and murmured
softly in her ear for most of the night. Thinking back, she could only recall bits and pieces of what
he’d told her.
He’d spoken of anything and everything. She recalled listening to stories of endless days spent at
the king’s side. He’d told her of his pride in Shivar when he’d stood up to the alien forces trying to
push him into a war Aris was ill-equipped to handle and of his appreciation for his fellow Guardians.
The fondness in his voice wasn’t lost on her. He clearly cared for them and judging by what she’d
seen the previous night, she guessed the feelings were mutual.
As he spoke, she tried to imagine herself at the king’s side. At first it was so she could keep her
thoughts from straying into forbidden territory but she soon realized it didn’t help. Every time she
tried to picture herself with Shivar, Kirel trespassed upon her fantasy. His voice, rich and warm with
a depth of feeling that left her breathless, intruded on her thoughts, imposing his image atop the king’s.
She’d given up at last and had allowed herself to be lulled to sleep by tales of Guardian bravery.
The last thing she remembered was thinking that even though Kirel had spoken at length about the way
he spent what little free time he had, he’d never once mentioned another woman. Oh he’d shared
plenty of information about Domenic’s conquests, always with a hint of unmistakable amusement, but
of his own diversions he’d kept surprisingly quiet.
She’d expected him to boast about the women who’d graced his bed. Guardian-worshippers they
were called in town. Since Guardians were rare sights outside the palace walls, bedding one was
cause for celebration. There was no shortage of women willing to drop their clothes at the tip of a
Guardian’s hood.
Nelina wanted to think the lack of saucy tales was due to the fact there weren’t any to tell, but
allowing that flight of fancy to go much farther would have been a folly she couldn’t afford. More than
ever, she needed to keep her wits about her if she was going to find a way out of this.
And she was determined to find a way out of this. Kirel had managed to thoroughly tangle her
emotions into a chaotic mess with his odd behavior. The man was a walking, talking mix of raw
authority, sinful lasciviousness and sincere sensuality.
Yet there was one thing she was as clear about now as she’d been when the Guardians had first
brought her to the castle. There was no way she was going to consent to mate with the king, no matter
what the Tradition demanded.
Especially not now when she knew that for as long as she lived, she’d never want another man the
way she wanted Kirel. She thought she’d accepted that fact when she’d believed him trapped in a
dungeon somewhere, lost to her forever. But now she knew it deep in her heart, and that awareness
sent curls of heat low in her belly.
With trembling fingers, she pushed the edge of the velvet bedspread down an inch to fall just
slightly below his navel, revealing the top of a dark patch of curls. Her nipples stiffened, tightening
even before she’d peered beneath the covering at the beautiful cock she knew to be laying beneath.
She could hardly believe they’d both been naked all night long and the only thing they’d done was
talk. Every time lust had reared its unwelcome head, Nelina had stifled it by thinking of the million
lies he’d told her, of the heartache she’d had to endure because of him. Yet now, the myriad reasons
why she shouldn’t touch him strayed into the back of her mind, drifting on an euphoric wave of pure
desire.
On a sharp intake of breath, she flung the bedspread down to settle on his knees. Kirel murmured
something incoherent and flung his arm over the opposite pillow then stilled.
Nelina’s throat closed as she forced herself to swallow a strangled sigh. He was magnificent.
There was no other way to describe the lean lines of his body, the trail of hair that led from beneath
his navel to the dark curls that provided a perfect cushion for his quiescent cock. Even flaccid, it was
thick and long, curved slightly in the crease of his right thigh.
Her fingertips tingled with the need to touch him. She allowed herself a featherlight stroke from
base to tip, a caress so gentle he couldn’t possibly have felt it. Yet his cock responded to her almost
instantly, stirring into semihardness.
Kirel didn’t rouse. Emboldened, she trailed the tip of her thumb over the tiny slit in the rosy head
of his cock. Her finger came away wet. White-hot arousal flooded her veins and she brought the
precious elixir to her mouth then flicked the tip of her tongue over the masculine essence.
Kirel groaned, a sound that was part sigh and part growl. “Do that again.”
She bit down on her thumb, like a child caught with her hand in the pastry dish. A wicked grin
flashed on Kirel’s features, tilting one side of his mouth higher than the other in that crooked smile she
remembered and had ached to see for so long.
For a moment, the world stood still. Her heart stopped hammering in her chest and her brain
refused to move forward. She was trapped in space and time, a prisoner of this moment, the moment
she’d come face-to-face with absolute perfection.
Before either of them could speak again, she splayed the fingers of her other hand over his
stomach and slid them down through the crisp curls at his groin. Fisting her hand around his now fully
erect cock, she began to stroke him gently from root to tip.
Kirel watched her from beneath half-open eyelids. A flush crept up his cheeks in sharp contrast to
the dark shadow dusting his jaw. “I’ve seen alien worlds and beings most people couldn’t even begin
to imagine. I’ve stood on the precipice of Tradition Mountain every year when Shivar renewed his
pledge to obey the Fates in all things and looked down upon Aris in all its glory.” His voice shook for
a moment and he cleared his throat. “But I’ve never seen anything half as beautiful as you look when
you touch me that way.”
The tears that clogged her throat were hot and salty. She swallowed them down. Tightening her
grip, she slid her hand down his shaft and used her fingertips to massage the tight, velvety skin of his
balls. “You’re not helping.”
The boyish smile returned. “Neither are you.”
Heat traveled through her, burrowing deep in her core. Kirel shoved his hips upward and pumped
into her fist, the soft velvety tip scraping against the inside of her palm with every smooth thrust. Raw
passion flushed the head of his cock a deep red color. Pre-cum gathered at the tip and dripped down
the shaft, slicking her strokes.
The sexual energy thrumming through her body intensified, zinging into her nerve endings with
every hoarse groan that slid from his throat. His cock pulsed in her hand so hard and insistent it
seemed to throb with an inner energy of its own that blended with her desperate need, kindling a
frantic desire she hadn’t known herself capable of.
Sinking her teeth into her lower lip to stifle a cry, Nelina swung one leg over Kirel’s waist.
Balancing her weight on her knees, she shook with the effort it took to keep from sinking down on his
bare shaft.
As though sensing the inner turmoil raging inside her, Kirel reached between her legs and nudged
the slick, hot cleft of her sex with his index finger to expose her aching clit. She gasped and arched
her back, rocking her hips so the head of his scorching cock brushed the sensitive flesh of her fevered
labia.
“Come for me, sweetheart,” Kirel whispered. “Come just for me.”
His fervent demand served to fuel her arousal. When he pressed down on the tight nub of her clit,
her climax ignited instantly. The spasm that shook her was so violent and unexpected, it tore through
her body with the strength of an erupting volcano. She cried out from the force of it even as her limbs
quaked and gave way beneath her.
A little plea of lust lodged in her throat. If she could have spoken, she’d have begged for the hot,
slick thrust of his cock inside her waiting channel but the ability to speak escaped her.
Kirel jerked his hips upward, meeting her halfway. The head of his cock stretched the tender skin
of her cunt. She held her breath as her abdomen rippled with remembered pleasure and her inner
muscles squeezed down on the thick girth that was only moments away from offering complete
fulfillment.
When the door burst inward, she was so lost in the bliss of the moment that the flurry of angry
voices that erupted around her and Kirel’s furious shout failed to penetrate the barrier of sensual lust
except as distant murmurs. Only when rough fingers tightened around her upper arms and yanked her
off Kirel’s magnificent cock did she cry out, desperate for the satisfaction that had been denied her.
“Gods take you, Kirel! You knew better!”
Nelina thrashed in Thor’s grip but he held her hard enough to send jolts of pain down her arms.
She watched through a fog of trembling arousal as Kirel’s eyes narrowed. Fury flashed like bolts of
lightning in the dark depths.
“You don’t know what you’re asking of me,” he ground out between gritted teeth. His cock
bobbed long and hard against his abdomen. The flushed head oozed a bead of pre-cum that slid down
his shaft to drip onto his tight, velvety balls.
“I’m not asking.” The Guardian’s voice was low, the threat clear. “The Tradition is demanding.
And so is your king. You remember him, don’t you? He’s the one to whom you swore undying
loyalty.”
Thor might as well have landed a closed-fist blow against Kirel’s jaw. The color drained from
his face instantly. Grief transformed his features and he rubbed a hand through his disheveled hair.
His jaw was clenched so tight she could make out a thin line of muscle that pulsed frantically at its
edge.
Domenic stepped in Nelina’s field of vision. His mask hid most of his face but she could make out
the wrinkled lines of his brow as he frowned at Kirel. “Are you going to come along or will we have
to carry you?”
Indecision flittered in Kirel’s eyes for a moment. His gaze darted from Nelina to the Guardians
then back again. Finally, he reached for his discarded uniform. “Where are we going?”
Thor sighed, sounding almost pained. “You didn’t think your little midnight tryst would go
unpunished, did you?”
Kirel pressed his lips into a thin line but said nothing.
A shiver stole down Nelina’s spine. The desperate, aching need had dissipated enough to allow
her to think clearly but the longing that had settled low in her belly still throbbed.
Domenic crossed the distance to the wardrobe and pulled out a floor-length cape. After inspecting
the black material and the emerald lining inside, he nodded his approval. “Here,” he said, thrusting
the garment out toward Nelina. “Put this on.”
She lifted her chin and darted a glance at Kirel. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Not until you tell me
where you’re taking us.”
Thor’s husky chuckle drifted over her skin like sensual fingertips to burrow deep in her cunt. He
yanked her back to him until her body pressed against his abdomen. His thick erection was
unmistakable as it prodded the base of her spine.
“You, my queen,” he whispered in her ear, “are in desperate need of a bath.”
 She might have been offended if every breath she inhaled didn’t bring with it the musky miasma of
spilled cum. She’d been covered in it the night before. Cream still dripped from her pussy to coat her
inner thighs in a mouthwatering mélange of her own arousal and Kirel’s leftover seed.
She reeked of sex, exuded the familiar scent from every pore. And instead of shaming her as it
should have, the knowledge only intensified her lust.
Gods…they’ve turned me into the castle whore.
Even as she thought it, she knew it wasn’t true. The Guardians hadn’t done anything to which she
hadn’t consented. Far from making her feel used, their sensual attention had delighted her, appealing
to a part of her she hadn’t even known existed. The exhibitionist, wanton part of her that wanted
—needed—everything they had to offer.
Then there was Kirel. A sigh bubbled up in her throat. She wanted him most of all. Yet with the
carnal yearning came an even greater need, a terrifying awareness that he alone held the key to her
satisfaction. The other men might be able to possess her body, but none of them would ever be able to
touch her heart, her soul, her mind the way Kirel could without the slightest effort. Thor had said that
in order to enjoy a sensual experience she had to trust in the hands and mouths and cocks that touched
her.
After last night, she knew without a doubt she didn’t trust any of them the way she trusted Kirel.
Inherently, she understood that without him at her side, a thousand Guardians couldn’t make her come.
The thought shook her to the core. Eight years earlier, Kirel had abandoned her. He’d made no
attempt to search for her in all the time they’d been apart. If not for the Tradition, he’d still be here
playing bodyguard to the king and she’d be worrying herself sick, pining after a messenger who’d
never existed.
Nelina jerked her arm free of Thor’s grasp and yanked the cape from Domenic’s hands. With a
twirl, she draped it over her shoulders, bringing the sides together in front of her body.
Willing her heart to stop hammering against her rib cage, she drew in a deep breath. Her body
was a mass of aroused nerve endings, each begging for attention. Her pussy still throbbed, protesting
its empty state.
With trembling fingers, she pulled her tangled mass of hair from beneath the cape’s collar and
shook it loose over the back of the garment then stepped into a pair of thin-soled sandals Domenic
had chosen from among the dozens lining the closet floor. “Let’s go.”
Outside the confines of this room, she might have a chance to escape. If all else failed, she’d
figure out how Kirel had scaled the side of the building to sneak into her room and do the same when
they brought her back. One way or another, she was going to find a way out of here. Another night in
Kirel’s arms could make her lose her mind completely.
Too easily he’d convinced her to allow him to spend the night in her bed. At this rate, he could
convince her to mate with the king by the next morning and have her believing it was all her idea.
“We will,” Thor said. “Once Kirel finishes dressing. Dom, grab the bowl.”
Nelina didn’t know which bowl he meant until she saw Domenic reach for the container of
lubricant they’d used the previous night. Heat crept up her cheeks and curled in the pit of her stomach,
pulsing slowly with remembered pleasure.
Kirel pulled on his pants without a word but the angry glares he threw Thor spoke volumes. When
Kirel was ready, Thor wrapped a strong arm around Nelina’s waist and pulled her to him then led the
way into the hall.
The guard standing by the door bowed slightly as they passed, his gaze lingering a little too long
on Nelina’s chest. Suddenly aware of her nudity beneath the cape, she pulled the sides tighter
together.
Thor paused in front of the man. “Send two guards to follow us down to the hot springs. Instruct
them to wait at the top of the stairs. If their services are needed, I’ll send for them. Otherwise, they’re
to ensure no one else comes down. Understood?”
The man paled slightly. He wore a too-tight emerald uniform belted with a wide leather strap over
a thick waist. “Yes, sir. Right away.” He was gone almost before he finished speaking, darting around
the corner and disappearing from view.
Thor nudged her in the opposite direction. Domenic fell in beside Thor and Kirel stepped up
alongside Nelina. She darted a glance at Thor’s profile. Although she couldn’t make out his face
clearly beneath his mask, there was no mistaking his clenched jaw and furrowed brow. Whatever he
had in store for them wasn’t worth starting an argument in the corridor.
He must have known Kirel wouldn’t leave Nelina’s side. There was no need of coercion to
convince Kirel to come with them, no threats. Kirel matched their pace, his right hand finding hers
through the thick folds of her cape and grabbing on to her fingertips.
As desperately as she wanted to yank her hand away, the pull of his touch was too strong to resist.
Instead of drawing back, she curled her fingers around his, feeling the warmth of his skin seep through
the fabric of her garment.
Thor’s strong physique radiated heat. His thigh was even with her waist, the lean muscle pressing
against her as they walked. The men trapped her from both sides, guiding her strides, leading her
deeper into temptation with every step. Her body responded with dark pulses of lust that seemed to
burrow deep in her cunt and throb against her clit.
She swallowed hard, not knowing how much more of this she could take. Her fingers itched to
throw off the cape and offer herself to their hands, their mouths, their luscious cocks.
At the top of a dark, narrow corridor, the Guardians halted. Domenic stepped back but the mouth
of the tunnel was still too small to allow all three of them to pass at once.
Excitement thrummed through her as she caught the heated exchange of angry glares over her head.
Kirel set his jaw, his fingers tightly gripping her hand.
“She’s not yours, Kirel.” Thor’s voice was low enough to be a whisper but it seemed to boom
abnormally loud in the stone-encased mouth of the corridor. “She never was.”
“We’ll see about that.” He stepped forward onto the top step and yanked her after him. Her cloak
came loose, falling over her shoulder and baring her left breast in its entirety as he pulled on her
hand. With a sigh, Thor released her and she half walked, half stumbled after Kirel.
“Is it really wise to anger him?” Nelina asked when they’d almost reached the bottom. She had to
raise her voice to be heard over the sound of cascading water.
“I’m not letting you go, Nel. No matter what he says.”
His words seemed to reach inside her, find her heart and squeeze. Her stomach flip-flopped
absurdly at the determination in his voice. “You’ll have to eventually.”
“Perhaps. But not right now.”
He stepped off the stairs and drew her into his arms. Taunting Thor further, he waited until the man
reached them before bringing his mouth down on hers. His tongue swept between her lips and she
opened to him instinctively, her pussy already throbbing in response to his bold move.
Thor growled and pulled them apart. Grabbing Nelina’s wrists and bringing them behind her back,
he pulled the cape from her shoulder and tossed it to the ground. “You’re testing my patience.”
“How terrible for you.” Kirel crossed his arms over his chest. “This whole situation’s been
testing mine since the moment we brought her here.”
Fine mist sprinkled Nelina’s skin, stiffening her nipples. She gaped and took in the cave where
they’d brought her, marveling at the twin waterfalls cascading over midnight black rock and the pool
rippling below. Goose bumps broke out over her flesh. She craved the feel of the water, knowing it
would be warm and inviting.
“May I?” she asked, already stepping away from Thor.
He released her with a grunt. “Go. Domenic will join you.”
“And me?” she heard Kirel ask mockingly. “What would you have me do?”
Thor growled low in his throat. “Strip.”
She didn’t hear Kirel’s response. The water called to her and she kicked off her sandals before
stepping in, sighing as her toes broke through the warm surface of the pool. A moment later she’d
lowered herself into its irresistibly seductive depths. Strong currents curled around her legs and
prodded between them, trickling over her clit. Tremors ran through her. Water sluiced from the ends
of her hair to drip down into the valley between her breasts. Her nipples felt puffy and ripe with
need, as though the water itself held magical properties that amplified the heady stream of lust already
pouring through her veins.
Floating on a current of pure elation, she shimmied forward. A sharp pain pierced the sole of her
left foot when she steadied her balance, causing her to stumble back a step. Gasping, she gently used
her toes to find the offending object then dove in after it. She had little difficulty finding the small
item. Studying it in the flickering light of torches ensconced high in the walls, she found herself
looking at a sharp little jagged shell. She recognized it as the pearly-blue carapace of a morang, a
small animal that burrowed inside its shell at the slightest hint of danger.
The morang was not a water creature. As though reading her thoughts, the animal poked a small,
slippery head from the carapace, its milky-white eyes staring unblinkingly at her. It drew back when
she reached out to touch it but part of its smooth forehead remained protruding and it tilted its head at
an odd angle to continue peering at her.
“Now how did you get in here?” Caressing its shell with the pad of her thumb, she placed it at the
edge of the pool where the little creature immediately poked thin legs from underneath its carapace
and took off at a rapid trot toward the back of the cave.
Intrigued, she paused for a moment then followed the gentle tug of a current to the left. Her path
led her straight to the mouth of an underwater tunnel close to the twin waterfalls. It seemed large, as
wide across as a broad-shouldered man and disappeared into the side that faced the valley rather than
the mountain. The current was strong here but instead of heat, it spilled forth an ice-cold flow that
chilled her to the bone.
Holy Moon Gods!
If the morang had gotten in without being much worse for wear, she could probably get out the
same way. She’d endure looking as haggard and wet as the pitiful creature if it meant finding a way
out of this wretched predicament. Surely the Fates couldn’t punish her for failing to mate with the king
once she was off this planet.
Hope blossomed in her chest, setting off a thunderous pounding in her temples. Judging by the
slant of the tunnel, it had to lead outside the castle walls. The current was still cold, even after
pouring through the hot rock of the volcanic mountain, which meant the water’s entrance wasn’t far
off.
As the possibilities drifted through her mind, a hot, needy groan reached her ears. The raw,
unashamedly male sound drew her attention instantly. She turned just in time to see Domenic dive into
the pool. Her breath hitched in her throat. She paused to admire the lean lines of his body as he split
the surface of the water and disappeared beneath. But it wasn’t his nudity or the elegance of his dive
that had an ecstatic whimpering moan lodging in her throat.
It was the sight of Thor grabbing Kirel’s waist and pulling him against his body then bringing his
mouth down to stifle whatever protest or biting remark Kirel had been about to make.
She hadn’t known kisses could be so torrid, so unabashedly carnal. Thor seemed to give no
thought to gentleness and the rough tenderness he exuded had Nelina’s pussy heating in delicious envy.
One hand held Kirel by the back of the neck. The other slid down to cup the man’s ass and bring him
up closer to Thor’s erection. Thor had lowered his face mask and the loose fabric hung around his
neck, a dark shadow against the rest of his uniform.
Gods, she’d never been so aroused by witnessing a kiss! Kirel stood naked, having stripped as
he’d been instructed. From her vantage point, Nelina could make out his rigid organ pressing hard
against the other man’s groin. They thrust against each other, grinding together, forming the hottest
sight Nelina had ever seen.
It was as though they performed just for her, a raptly attentive audience of one. The more engaged
they became, the wetter she grew until the moisture slicking her labia was rapidly discernable from
the water that filled the pool.
“Show-offs,” Domenic whispered intimately in her ear. His voice startled her. She’d been so
absorbed in what she was witnessing she hadn’t heard him come up behind her.
He pressed himself against her back, making his reaction to the forbidden kiss clear. He was as
aroused as she was. She wasn’t sure why that thought should send her over the edge but it did!
She rocked back and forth, rubbing her ass over Domenic’s erection, using the currents shifting
through the water to guide her. The contrast of the ice-cold flow and scorching heat emanating from
Domenic’s body set off an immediate, all-encompassing response in her own body.
“You should see them together, Nelina. I mean really see them.” His voice was hoarse, raw with
the edge of lust. “They’re beautiful.”
She nodded and ran the tip of her tongue over her suddenly dry lips. “I want to,” she murmured.
“More than anything.”

Kirel knew what Thor was doing and it wouldn’t work. No way could the man distract him from
Nelina. Not even with his thick cock grinding against Kirel’s or his tongue sweeping those maddening
circles inside his mouth, or his hand dipping between the crease of his ass cheeks to push against the
tight sphincter and slide inside—
All right, maybe that last one had him. He groaned despite himself and bit down on Thor’s lower
lip, hard enough to elicit a stunned gasp from the Guardian’s throat.
Bastard, Kirel thought. You’re not the only one who can take charge.
He knew why Thor was angry and truth be told he couldn’t bring himself to blame the man. The
Tradition dictated the Guardians had to train the future queen to be able to pass the three Trials that
had been devised just for the king’s mating ceremony. They had to teach her to be receptive to the
awe-inducing effects of pure lust. In return, she’d be prepared to share herself body and soul with the
king.
As legend had it, only if the queen eagerly accepted the beauty of carnal passion would the Fates
grant the king an heir. A willing queen was a fertile queen.
But the heir had to be conceived with royal seed. When the Guardians took Nelina, they were
careful to use the slick lubricant that would prevent their sperm from quickening in her womb. Kirel
would have taken no such precaution.
That selfish act alone could have doomed Shivar. And all of Aris.
He’d thought he could handle training Nel but the more time he spent in her presence, the more his
self-restraint dissipated. Last night’s midnight trek to her chambers had been reckless at best.
Traitorous at worst.
Well, perhaps it had even been driven by the part of him that wanted to sabotage the Tradition’s
well-laid plans. It might have worked too, if he didn’t love her so damn much.
Thor’s breath came faster, hot inside Kirel’s mouth. He rocked against Kirel in earnest, his hard
shaft nudging Kirel’s erection through the thick material of his pants.
Tired of taking orders and following others’ lead, Kirel deftly pulled on the strings binding Thor’s
uniform pants tightly around his hips then hooked his thumbs inside the waistband, yanking the
annoying garment down. The material caught on the head of Thor’s cock. Kirel wriggled it and Thor’s
erection sprung free.
Abandoning the kiss, Kirel dropped to his knees in one smooth glide. His hands tightening around
Thor’s waist, he turned his head and met Nelina’s gaze. The depth of lust in her bottomless blue eyes
nearly had him staggering. He’d never seen her so aroused. Her pale face was flushed with a crimson
sheen that traveled down the elegant column of her neck to stain the top of her breasts.
Domenic cupped both perfect mounds in his palms as he murmured something in her ear.
Whatever he said had her moaning. The husky sound of her desire was drowned out by the cascading
waterfalls but Kirel could imagine it as though she’d moaned in his ear.
She looked straight at him, nodding, giving him permission to do what he intended. The
knowledge that she was getting off on watching him with Thor had a predatory grin tugging at his lips.
Thor had no idea what he was in for.
The man’s cock bobbed thick and long in front of his abdomen. A drop of pre-cum glistened at its
tip. The solid shaft looked carved out of pale marble, complete with delicate blue veins that throbbed
and pulsed beneath the tender skin.
Kirel glanced up past the massive shaft and met Thor’s gaze. The Guardian’s breathing was
labored, his lips swollen from Kirel’s kiss.
“Gods, Kirel, you don’t have to—”
Before he could finish the thought, Kirel had taken the man’s solid organ in his mouth all the way
down to the base in a flawless move that had his lips sliding over the heated flesh with relish. His gag
reflex engaged when Thor’s cock nudged the back of his throat but he forced himself to relax and
indulge his senses in the taste of the Guardian’s distinct flavor on his tongue.
He’d never tongued a cock before. The zesty elixir of raw male tasted much like he’d imagined
yet infinitely different. Nelina had often praised the length and girth of his own rod. She’d said he
tasted salty, faintly musky. In contrast, Thor was all tang and heady bitterness, pure masculine
pheromones and sharp, savage essence.
The wicked throb in Thor’s dick had Kirel licking and fondling as though he’d been doing this all
his life. He loved the grunts escaping Thor’s throat. Cupping the man’s balls in the palm of his right
hand, he caressed them gently and tugged on the strip of skin from which they hung.
Having that much control over the Guardian who prided himself on remaining in charge at all
times was exhilarating. It excited the hunter in him to know he could bring them all—Nelina, Thor,
even Domenic given the chance—to such heights of delicious ecstasy.
Steadying Thor by digging his fingers into the muscular flesh of his hips, Kirel rammed the
Guardian’s dick down his throat with a frenzy of violent lust. The need had been building within him
for days and now that he had all three of them in such close proximity, he knew that simmering desire
was about to explode.
And when it did, Gods help them all. He feared no one in this cavern would ever be the same
again.
Entreating the Fates he despised for the strength he needed to make it through the rest of this
training session, Kirel swirled his tongue around the plump head of Thor’s cock. If he could only
focus on his duty, he might be able to keep his mind off the fact that even now he prepared to hand
Nelina over to another man.
For today, she could be his. They could all be his.
Thor’s cock slipped out of his mouth. Kirel couldn’t help staring at the slick surface of the
delicate skin flushed red with need, veins straining against the surface. It was one of the most carnal
sights Kirel had ever seen. He stroked his palm against the rigid length of it, enchanted by the way the
flesh throbbed and pulsed beneath his touch.
Nelina’s body reacted the same way to his caress. Her pussy flushed a deep pink and her tender
sex lips fluttered with quivering urgency. Her soft, curvy body was a perfect contrast to Thor’s
muscular physique.
The sudden need to see them side by side, to touch them both, flared within him in a heady rush.
“Nelina!” He bellowed her name, which rang out through the interior of the cavern, a pulsing,
living thing. It continued to echo long after he’d closed his mouth, ringing out against the walls,
imbuing the air with the raw, primal energy swirling through him.
He turned his head and saw her standing in the middle of the pool, her wet hair covering the side
of her face Kirel could make out from where he kneeled. For a brief moment, he thought perhaps
despite the booming sound of his cry she hadn’t heard his call.
Then she looked right at him. In her eyes shone the kind of desperate, all-encompassing lust that
took his breath away. Her breasts heaved, the nipples hard and distended. That’s when he noticed the
flush staining her chest and the way her back arched, hovering on the brink of release.
Domenic still held her to him. His hand had disappeared beneath the surface of the pool and Kirel
knew exactly where his fingers were lodged.
 Jealousy settled like a ball of pure agony low in his gut. It was unfair, he knew, considering his
hand was still fisted around Thor’s cock but he couldn’t help the animalistic urge to dive into the
water and tear Domenic’s fingers away from his woman’s cunt.
His woman.
Gods, he was a fool. Turning away before he could watch her climax at the hand of another man,
Kirel pressed a lingering kiss to the top of Thor’s cock. He tasted the Guardian’s oozing essence as a
drop of pre-cum slipped from the tip, slicking Kirel’s lips.
Thor thrust his fingers in Kirel’s hair and yanked his head up, forcing him to meet his gaze. “I
can’t take much more.”
“Neither can I,” Kirel answered honestly. His balls ached with the agony of arousal while his
heart felt ready to shatter into a million pieces at the slightest provocation. If this continued, his entire
body would splinter and crack, leaving behind a mere shell of what he’d once been.
Cool fingertips on his shoulder jerked his gaze on an angle to look behind him into brilliant limpid
blue eyes.
“I’m here.” Nelina’s throaty voice seemed to reach inside him and yank him to his feet.
Kirel reached for her, helpless to resist. He rose, wrapped an arm around her waist and hauled
her to him, desperate to feel the soft decadence of her body pressing against his rampant need.
“Why?” he whispered against her lips. “Why are you here, Nel?”
“You called for me,” she answered breathlessly.
A haze of warm mist drifted off the waterfalls. It reached out delicate, gauzy fingertips and
enveloped them in a cocoon of wet heat. Domenic and Thor stepped up on either side of them,
forming a perfect circle of decadent temptation.
“The Tradition brought you here,” Kirel corrected. “I just happened to be in the right place at the
right time.”
She tilted her head, her bottomless blue eyes darkening to a navy hue. “Do you really believe
that?”
It didn’t matter what he believed. The truth was, Nelina wasn’t meant for him. She never would
be. But right now she was in his arms. Even if he had to share her with half of Aris, he’d gladly do so
for a chance at holding her, fucking her…loving her.
Kirel trailed the tip of his tongue between Nelina’s lips. She parted them on a sigh, allowing him
to slip inside.
“I can taste him on you,” she murmured against his mouth. “It’s intoxicating.”
There was no jealousy in her voice, no hint of sexual possession. While he’d been tormenting
himself over the desire Domenic had awakened in her, she’d been aroused by his display with Thor.
She’d accepted his wanton act for what it was—a decadent display of sensual indulgence.
Hot, scalding shame scorched his veins. She was far too perceptive. He, on the other hand, was
losing his mind. Unable to stop fretting over the way desire and duty became more and more muddled
in his tormented thoughts, he’d lost track of what this was really about.
Sex.
Nothing more.
In the span of a heartbeat, he’d lifted her off her feet. A small cry escaped her throat as he twirled
her around rapidly and plunged into the warm water. Her legs came up around his waist almost
instantly and he waded against the current until he could sit on the edge of the pool.
He settled her on his lap. Water sluiced over her waist, barely covering her navel. The head of his
cock, flushed crimson with desperate agony, broke the surface of the pool, rising between them and
hovering a hand’s span away from her flushed, parted sex lips.
Her thighs were spread open for him and her cunt shone lusciously, wet with the distinctive sheen
of her cream.
Domenic joined them, settling his firm chest against Nelina’s back. She gasped, arching her spine
and Kirel knew Dom had nestled his thick erection in the welcoming crevice of her ass.
Thor stepped up behind Kirel. The coarse hair on his legs tickled Kirel’s back. Nelina looked up,
her eyes widening as she took in the massive shaft hovering just outside Kirel’s field of vision.
Kirel was trapped in a fantasy of wet heat and rapture, a prisoner of his own making. From the
corner of his eye, he saw Thor lean down and dip his fingertips in the warm lubricant nestled in the
bowl beside Kirel’s hip. The Guardian’s cock nudged his shoulder as he bent down to smooth the
slick liquid over the surface of Kirel’s throbbing cock.
The feel of the man’s hand on his flesh had Kirel thrusting upward into Thor’s fist. An agonized
groan slid past his lips. Nelina shifted on his lap, displacing water to gush over Kirel’s abdomen.
“That tight little pussy of yours must be dripping wet by now,” Kirel murmured. Thor tightened his
grip on Kirel’s cock, ripping another groan from his throat.
Nelina looked as if she wanted to deny it. She pulled her lower lip between her teeth and her gaze
flickered downward. Her eyes grew wide as she watched Thor’s jerking motions, his fingertips
dancing with rapid strokes. Sliding a trembling hand over Kirel’s thigh, she wrapped her fingers
around Thor’s pumping fist and began guiding the movements, quickening the agonizing strokes.
Kirel gritted his teeth and forced his expression to remain stone-faced. A few more moments of
this and they’d have him spilling his load into the pool much sooner than he intended.
“Yes,” she whispered at last, her breath fanning his mouth. “I’m ready for you.”
“Really?” Domenic asked, thrusting his hips forward. Judging by the desperate gasp hitching in
Nelina’s throat, Kirel knew the head of the Guardian’s cock had to be nudging the tight sheath of her
anus. “Are you ready for me too?”

She’d dreamed this. Just the way it was happening.

Well, almost the way it was happening. In her dream, it had been Thor’s cock she was riding
while Kirel gave orders and watched unaffected. But that wasn’t the way events played out now.
Conflicting emotions etched themselves on Kirel’s features as though his face was a pale canvas
on which a maelstrom of desire, anguish and fear had been painted. He gritted his teeth, his hips
shifting infinitesimally as he struggled to keep his seed from spilling. His balls had drawn up tightly
into his sac, round little velvet-covered spheres she ached to cup in her palm.
Nelina placed the fingertips of her free hand under Kirel’s jaw and tilted his head, prying his gaze
away from what her hand and Thor’s did to his cock.
“I’m ready for everything you’ve got.” She spoke to Domenic but the message was for Kirel
alone.
After today, she’d never again be this close to him. A deep, heavy ache settled around her heart,
scoring her soul with deep claws. Tears stung her eyes but she blinked them back, determined to enjoy
every moment of this.
If it was to be the last time she’d experience true bliss in Kirel’s arms, then she was going to
remember every rapturous second of it. Never again would she experience lingering terror, doubt and
torment when recalling the last time they’d made love.
This time their union would be perfect. And so would her memories.
Placing both palms on Kirel’s shoulders, she lifted herself slightly off his lap, allowing the
buoyant strength of the water to assist her. She held her breath as she felt the tip of his cock nudge her
slit and slip through her folds to nestle inside the opening to the hot, snug flesh of her inner channel.
“Fuck me, Kirel,” she whispered in his ear. “Not for the training or for your king. Fuck me
because you want to.”
The guttural groan he emitted seemed torn from somewhere deep in his chest. It echoed off the
walls of the cavern to dissipate in the thundering cascade of waterfalls. In the span of a missed
heartbeat, he thrust upward and slammed the entire length of his shaft inside her pussy.
Her folds made contact with Thor’s hand before he pulled it away, allowing her to slip down fully
on Kirel’s rod. He wrapped her in his arms, pulling her close to his chest. Her folds swelled, inner
muscles pulsing with raw, sensual need as he withdrew slightly then resheathed himself inside her.
“The second trial is the Rite of Sharing,” Thor said. “A queen knows she’ll have to share her king
with the people of Aris. It’s just as vital that she be able to share herself with them too.”
A flash of color from her left made Nelina turn her head in time to see Thor pass the bowl of
lubricant to Domenic. A darkly exciting and intoxicating thrill shimmied through her, leaving
scorching heat in its wake.
She looked past Kirel to Thor, who stroked his cock from root to tip, spreading a liquid drop
down the marble-hard shaft. She licked her lips and beckoned him closer with a tilt of her head. He
obeyed, stepping up to crouch slightly before her. The gesture opened his thighs, allowing her a long,
lingering look at his heavy testicles and the network of ropy veins underneath the tightly stretched skin
of his throbbing rod.
The lascivious sight of Thor fondling himself sent heat to curl in her belly. She leaned forward,
allowing Kirel greater access to her cunt while Domenic dug his fingers into the fleshy globes of her
ass and spread them apart.
Nelina sucked in a breath. Thor’s cock nudged her mouth. Domenic’s shaft prodded her tight hole.
Through it all, Kirel’s rod never stopped moving. It slid inside her to the root then slipped out a little
only to thrust farther the next time, going deeper than Nelina had thought possible.
She rode him hard, opening herself up to him with every part of her being. He was utterly
spectacular, caressing her hips and waist as he sheathed himself in her, murmuring little encouraging
endearments in her ear.
She took Thor’s cock inside her mouth. Domenic pushed the head of his cock inside her sphincter,
stretching her, opening her to his lascivious need. He gripped her waist and inch by excruciating inch
slipped his rod into her ass. She gasped as streams of pleasure-pain poured from the myriad nerve
endings gathered at the base of her anus.
He gave her a moment to adjust to the unfamiliar intrusion. She trembled then finally pushed back
against his slick organ, rocking her hips without conscious thought, demanding more. Domenic’s cock
filled her amidst Kirel’s murmured whispers of incredible, extraordinary, irresistible, mesmerizing
and enchanting. Every word he spoke was uttered in perfect, lilting cadence, traveling through her
core and lodging inside her clit, thrumming the tight aching nub from the inside.
The barrage of compliments poured over her. Kirel’s voice melded with her mewling cries and
the Guardians’ husky moans, uniting in a cacophony of sheer ecstasy.
She couldn’t think straight, her addled mind having suddenly sent all her lucid thoughts south until
it felt as though her entire existence consisted of the heat thrumming between her thighs and inside the
tight crevice of her ass.
Her mouth worked dutifully at Thor’s cock, sucking him deep, sliding over the tiny aperture in the
soft glans and then pushing the mushroom head to the back of her throat until her nose touched his flat,
rippling abdomen.
Her nipples scraped against Kirel’s chest with every bouncing thrust of his cock. The muscles in
the tight channel of her ass stretched and flexed, allowing the thick intrusion of Domenic’s pulsing rod
to nestle farther inside her. The sensation of being filled from every side burned like liquid fire. A
combination of pleasure and pain settled low in her cunt, making her fleshy lips ache and quiver.
She could feel the two men’s cocks press against each other through the thin barrier between her
two channels and the knowledge that they were so close, so deep inside her, had a strangled cry
drifting from her lips around a mouthful of Thor’s eager rod.
Nelina’s eyes drifted shut. The Guardians filled her, squeezed her, stroked her with their hands,
cocks and mouths. She felt Domenic’s head nestled in the crook of her shoulder, his tongue laving
small, wet circles on her skin.
The shuddering sensation of impending orgasm started thrumming low in her cunt, spread out
toward her clit then exploded in a mad rush of glorious trembling ecstasy to sweep through her body.
She clenched her fingers in Kirel’s shoulders and sucked deeply on Thor’s cock. Her quim pulsed,
gripping Kirel’s shaft tightly. She writhed in delicious agony, bringing herself up slightly, fucking
Kirel harder, milking his tense shaft.
She could pinpoint the exact moment of his release a few seconds before his seed burst inside her.
His body stilled and his nails dug into her skin. With an animalistic groan, he arched his back, thrust
his hips forward and jerked his rod within her tender channel with a fury that left her breathless. Far
from being over, the barrage of compliments continued even as his cock pulsed hot streams of cum
deep into her pussy.
He stroked her back with languid sweeps as Domenic gripped her hips and pumped her ass
savagely. She matched his thrusts with her strokes on Thor’s cock until their mutual releases
convulsed as one in a blur of lust and heady sensual abandon.
Kirel’s cock was still semihard inside her and he reached down to pluck at her tender clit. She
came instantly, her body furrowing with a white-hot release of pent-up tension that darkened her
vision and made it impossible to focus on anything but the ecstasy bursting to life within her.
She sucked viciously on Thor’s shaft, drowning in the bitterly savage taste of him. His cum
spilled down her throat. She drank every drop, sweeping her tongue down the length of his cock until
she held his spent, softening member on her tongue.
Releasing him with a languid sigh, she placed a kiss on the nest of curls at his groin then
straightened her spine. Domenic slipped out of her, leaving her back channel sore and gaping. The
warm water soothed the aching tension in her muscles and relaxed her limbs.
 Long minutes passed before she realized Kirel was still inside her, his cock nestled deep in her
heat. She liked him there, she thought as she nuzzled the side of his throat. It was exactly where he
belonged.
“Enough.” Thor’s harsh voice intruded upon the cocoon of sensual intimacy Kirel’s grip on her
had created. Still, he didn’t let go. “Release her.”
Defying Thor’s command, Kirel only held her closer to him. “That was good, sweetheart,” he
murmured in her hair. “Real good.”
She swallowed past the lump in her throat and nodded. “You should do what he says.”
“I don’t want to.”
She sighed. “Yes, but we all have to do things we don’t want to do. You should know that better
than anyone.”
She felt his drawn-in breath. His heart hammered hard against his rib cage, the thundering pulse
transferring through the slope of her breasts to match her own erratic beat.
When it became clear he had no intention of letting her go, she pushed his arms aside and slipped
out from under them to drift toward the middle of the pool. He didn’t try to stop her but when she
turned back, he still sat on the rock, his hands clenched so hard around the jagged edge of the
poolside that his knuckles had turned white.
“May I stay?” Nelina asked, sliding onto her back and letting the water hold her up. “Every
muscle in my body aches. The heat and water is just what I need.”
Thor yanked up his pants and placed a hand on Kirel’s shoulder. “Sure. There are guards at the
top of the stairs. Go up when you’re ready to leave and they’ll escort you to your chambers.”
A fluttering rush of hope settled in her belly. She tried not to look too eager as she smiled her
thanks.
At last, Kirel rose. She marveled at the way his cock was still hard, the skin stretched taut as it
strained against his belly. She watched wordlessly while the three men finished dressing. They
looked pristine in their black uniforms. Thor and Domenic had tied on their face masks and pulled up
their hoods, their eyes mere shadowy slits in shrouded faces.
Only Kirel watched her openly. He hadn’t bothered with his mask when they’d left her room and
now his depthless dark eyes followed her movements in the water. He watched her as though he could
see right through her. For a moment, her heartbeat stilled as fear snaked up her spine. He couldn’t
know what she had planned…could he?
The other Guardians didn’t seem concerned about the possibility of her escaping from the hot
springs cavern. Did Kirel know that there was a tunnel that would lead her to freedom? Or was he
simply insightful enough to realize she wouldn’t rest until she found a way out of this?
He nodded briskly toward her. His straight shoulders and broad chest brought to mind a regal
stance, a bearing that most royals could never hope to pull off. The heartache that had been building
steadily since she’d drifted from his arms intensified, making it suddenly hard to breathe.
“Goodbye, Kirel,” she said, surprised to find her voice quivering.
He watched her for a moment longer while Thor and Domenic both took a hold of his arms. They
looked ready to haul him out of there by force if they had to. For a moment, she thought they might.
Kirel’s eyes narrowed. A muscle twitched in his jaw. His biceps corded as tension stiffened his
muscles. He looked like a predator ready to strike. When he opened his mouth to speak, she found
herself holding her breath. She didn’t know what she’d expected him to say, but the simple “Goodbye,
Nel” wasn’t it.
She waited until the three men disappeared from view before allowing the first tear to slide down
her cheek. A dozen more followed, plopping into the surface of the pool, trickling between her
breasts, caressing her skin with salty rivulets.
There wasn’t much time. Steeling her nerves lest she change her mind, Nelina swam to the tunnel
where she’d found the morang. Filling her lungs with a gulp of cum-scented air, she plunged
underneath the surface of the water and propelled her body through the whirling current.
The ice-cold flow numbed her muscles in the span of a few strokes. Her lungs and eyes burned
with effort. She pushed on, inch by excruciating inch. Velvet darkness encompassed her, closing in,
trapping her from all sides.
Her shoulder scraped the jagged edges of rock. The tunnel narrowed upward. She followed it
even as panic began to build in her chest, expanding her rib cage, making the desperate need to suck
in a breath of air scorch the inside of her throat.
When the first rays of sunlight filtered through the water, she almost screamed with joy. Time
seemed to slow to a crawl as she pushed her straining muscles to the peak and wriggled through the
tight mouth of the tunnel to break the surface.
Cold, dust-imbued oxygen clogged her throat when she dragged in the first gulp of air. She had to
narrow her eyes to keep them from watering as the sun’s beams shone into her dark-accustomed orbs.
Shivering, she glanced around her. The castle loomed dark and foreboding against the side of the
mountain. She could make out a few windows carved high in the rock from where she stood.
The stream she found herself in traveled around the perimeter of the gardens, curving gently
toward the right where it disappeared into a steep, sloping landscape. The rocky terrain was dotted
with bushy plants and the occasional brown-leaved tree. Their branches hung low to the ground, bent
by years of untamed storms.
Casting another cursory look over the area to ensure there were no stray guards nearby, she pulled
herself out of the stream. Goose bumps broke out instantly over her skin. Her nipples ached as they
stiffened and the damp breeze played in the curls between her legs, reminding her of the carnal
sensations that had gripped her in their midst only minutes earlier.
Unable to resist, she ran a finger down her gaping slit, prodding the sensitive flesh of her pussy,
testing its resistance to her questing fingertips. Then pressing her lips into a thin line, she looked back
at the castle only once before breaking into a desperate sprint toward the shelter of the rocky terrain
that beckoned with the promise of safety.
The wind kicked up a notch as she ran, whipping specks of dust at her bare flesh. She lowered her
lashes against the assault. First, she had to find clothes. Then she had to figure out a way to get off this
planet.
Only when she was halfway across the universe could she be sure the king’s men wouldn’t come
looking for her.
 Chapter Eight

“Shivar has left instructions not to be disturbed for the remainder of the day, though he wants us
ready to meet him before the dinner hour. I trust you’ll behave until then?”
Kirel’s lip curled. Tension coiled in his gut, tightening his muscles. He stood in the middle of his
chamber and watched Thor eye him suspiciously over the top of his mask.
“Get. Out.” He made each word a threat. The turmoil of emotions surging through him threatened
to burst out of his chest, leaving him uncertain as to what would happen if it erupted while Thor
remained in the room.
He caught Thor’s almost imperceptible shake of his head before the Guardian pulled the door
closed. Instead of calming Kirel’s nerves, the sound of the latch clicking into place sent another jolt of
adrenaline through his veins.
The green-glazed goblet filled with Siccian wine that had been left out for him seemed as good a
candidate as any for the release he craved. Lifting it by its slender curved handle, he used all his
strength to hurl it at the window.
Glass shattered against glass with an ear-splitting crash. Broken shards sprayed toward him,
bathing the lush crimson carpet in fragments of fine porcelain.
The door opened another crack. “You all right in here?”
Kirel’s eyelids drifted closed. He squeezed them shut and clenched his jaw, trying to calm his
frantic breathing.
“I can stay with you a while if you want to talk.”
The soft concern in Thor’s voice almost undid him. His friend’s sympathy caused a surge of
desperate agony to lodge in his chest. Every breath burned going down his throat as though his lungs
no longer wanted to accept even the life-giving air that filled the room.
“I don’t want to talk. I want Nel. I want to defy this stupid Tradition and make Nelina mine.” He
stalked to the window, stepping on the shattered remains of the goblet and peered out through the pale
smears of pink wine that stained the glass. “She is mine, you know. None of the training will change
that.”
“The Tradition changes that.”
There was no smugness in Thor’s claim, no judgment. If there had been, Kirel would have
forcefully removed the Guardian from his chambers without a second’s hesitation. Instead, he splayed
both palms on the window and leaned his forehead against the cool pane.
“Does it? Or does it simply force us all to live a lie? Nel, me…even Shivar. Do you think the king
wants a queen who’s in love with another?”
“How can you be so certain…”
Kirel didn’t have to see Thor’s face to know the man had clamped his mouth shut before
completing the sentence so as to not provoke him further. He almost smiled at that. He’d already
reached the end of his restraint. How much further could he be pushed?
 “That she loves me?” Kirel finished for him. “I felt it when I was in her. I could tell by the way
she held me close in the grip of her tight little pussy. By the way she dug her fingers into my shoulders
and asked me to fuck her. And I felt it last night…when I held her. Because that’s all I did, Thor. I
held her. I could spend the rest of my days holding her.”
“For what it’s worth, I do wish things could be different for you. But they’re not, and you’ve no
choice but to accept that.”
Clearly, Thor’s gentle caress on Kirel’s shoulder blade was meant to comfort him but it only
served to frustrate him further. He’d loved fucking Thor with his mouth while Nelina had watched.
The intimacy of the act had been invigorating. Absolutely rapturous.
Thor was wound up as tightly as Kirel only for different reasons. He needed a woman who could
teach him how to unwind as much as Kirel needed Nel. Yet until their Guardian terms came to an end,
neither one of them was free to find that kind of comfort in a mate’s warmth.
Kirel’s huffed breath left a misty streak on the clear window. He’d pulled back a few inches and
had barely finished brushing it away with the side of his fisted hand when the unmistakable glimpse of
a shapely ass caused his breath to catch in his throat.
For a moment, the planet tilted on its axis. His eyes widened as he tried to make sense of what he
saw.
Kirel pressed his palms hard into the glass, convinced that the woman running naked from the
stream toward the rocky mountainside couldn’t possibly be his Nel…yet knowing instantly that it
was.
He whirled around and snatched a fistful of Thor’s tunic just below the hollow of the man’s throat,
pulling him so close anyone looking in might have thought they were about to kiss.
“I’ve asked you before to leave my room.” Kirel spoke in a low whisper no less menacing than
his earlier command. “I’ll call for you if I need you. Right now, what I need is to be alone with my
sorrow and my memories. If you care for me, you’ll do this.”
Thor parted his lips, stretching the fabric of the mask over his delectable mouth. Kirel held his
breath, not daring to push Thor away lest the man begin to suspect something was happening. He
prayed Thor wouldn’t see Nelina, that she’d already ducked out of sight beneath a tall outcropping of
volcanic rock.
After what seemed to Kirel like an eternity, Thor leaned his forehead against his. “Just because
Nelina is meant for the king doesn’t mean you have to be alone.” He nudged his thighs forward and
pressed his chest against Kirel’s so his thick erection prodded his groin.
A reluctant smile tugged at the corners of Kirel’s mouth. “I’ll remember that.”
With a sigh, Thor disengaged from Kirel’s grip and headed for the door. Forcing himself to wait
until the door had shut behind the Guardian for a second time, Kirel lunged for his leather pack the
moment he heard the latch snap closed.
Holy Moon Gods! What on Aris is she thinking?
Anxiety traveled a sudden path through his veins, turning his blood to ice. He’d known Nelina
was determined to escape her fate but he had no idea she’d go to such lengths, take such risks! There
were creatures that made their home on the slopes of Tradition Mountain the likes of which she’d
never encounter elsewhere. The majority of them weren’t friendly.
If the beasts didn’t set upon her, the elements would. The storm that had been whipping the terrain
into quiet submission for the past few weeks had taken a break today but he knew the stillness that had
settled over the landscape wasn’t meant to last.
She was nude and unarmed, a perfect target for any predator. The mere thought of her out there, at
the mercy of myriad evils made bile rise in his throat.
He shoved a handful of coins into the side pockets of his pack and filled the rest of the space with
his spare uniform, a loaf of bread and hard cheese that had been set out for him, a soft blanket and two
of his best knives. The ceremonial Guardian curved blade slid easily into its sheath, which he
buckled at the waist. Pausing only a moment longer than necessary to grab the mask the servants had
retrieved from Nelina’s room, tie it around his face and pull up his hood, he gripped the door handle,
halting a fraction of a second before yanking it open.
In an effort to avoid a repeat of the previous night’s forbidden activities, Thor would surely have
set a guard outside Kirel’s chamber. Attempting to leave through the front door would only bring more
suspicion upon him, which would ultimately prevent him from going after Nelina.
He loosened his grip on the handle and stepped back. That only left one other option. Taking a
deep breath, he flung his pack over his shoulder and used the leather strap to secure it to his chest. He
tested the fit by yanking on the belt and gave a satisfied grunt when the pack didn’t budge from its
location at the middle of his back.
It took only one vigorous pull on the window’s hinge to slide it upward. The wind had stilled and
the cool air that shifted inside his chamber brought with it the scent of dry dust. And, he thought, the
delicate aroma of sweet cherries.
Hooking a leg over the windowsill, he adjusted his grip on the raw stone and positioned his
booted feet into the first narrow crevice he could find. Having scaled the wall just recently in the
dark, with the storm whipping at his face and clothes, this time should have been much easier.
And it was, at least until the square tip of his boot failed to grip onto the slippery rock and he
found himself sliding down the face of the castle wall at an alarming rate. His heart stopped beating
for the span of countless long moments as he watched the black rock fly through his field of vision. He
grasped fervently for the smallest dip in the rough surface, his fingertips scrambling to hook on to the
slightest protrusion.
He felt sharp stone tear at his skin, ripping his flesh. Mercifully, he managed to clasp on to a
jagged edge just above another window. Blood dripped over his knuckles and ran down the back of
his arms in trickling crimson rivulets. His legs dangled in empty space and the tips of his boots
knocked against the glass pane of someone’s chamber.
He closed his eyes, silently sending an unspoken prayer to the Fates who held his very existence
in their grip. He knew how ironic it was that he should count on the same forces who had wreaked
such havoc in his life to save it but at the moment he had little choice.
After waiting for the span of a few pounding heartbeats to see if anyone would open the window
and snatch him inside, he resumed his descent, much more cautiously this time.
When the soles of his feet made contact with the firm ground, he whispered another prayer, this
one of thanks, and lifted his gaze up to the sky. As though in answer, the brilliant blue stretching as far
as he could see above his head began to darken, announcing the impending arrival of another storm.
His gaze darted around him in a pattern formed of long years at Shivar’s side, seeking the slightest
disturbance in the air, looking for the smallest sign of aggression. There was no one. For the first time
in eight years, Kirel found himself outside the castle walls completely alone.
 He sucked in a deep breath then another. The sheer freedom of the act smacked into him like a
punch to the gut. Suddenly he knew how Nelina had to feel as she ran toward the mountainside. Out
here there was no thought of duty, no demands made upon his every move. He could choose to let his
feet carry him in any direction he wished and the Tradition with all its absurd ultimatums and
stipulations couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
The surface of the swirling stream glittered in the stray rays of sunlight that fought to penetrate the
dark clouds. He hurried toward it and paused just long enough to wash the blood from his torn skin
before setting out in the direction in which he’d seen Nelina disappear.
During the extensive training that had prepared him to take his place as the king’s Guardian, he’d
been taught to track the movements of an enemy should such a need arise. It hadn’t in the past, but now
he found he could easily call upon those skills to follow Nelina’s trail.
The wind picked up, snatching his hood back with a malevolent whistle. He could feel the chill
all the way down to his bones and every whiplash of the gale heightened his anxiety for Nelina.
“Hang on, sweetheart,” he murmured into the rapidly building storm. “I’m coming for you.”

*****
He found her just after nightfall, huddled beneath a serrated rock that seemed to burst from the
mountain itself. Its sharp end gave way to a flatter outcropping that provided just enough shelter for
her slender body if she crouched low and brought her knees up beneath her chin.
He’d been tracking her for hours. The trail she’d left would have been easier to follow had the
storm not kicked up into a frenzy of dust, wind and rain that tore at his clothes and limited his
visibility to less than a foot in front of him. The marks she left in the thick sand were concealed
beneath a flurry of red dust almost as soon as she removed her foot, leaving him with little more than
faint impressions and a gut feeling to follow.
Still, he’d pursued her with the single-minded tenacity of a true Guardian, a man with a mission.
Turning back had never been an option. Not even when the particles of red sand raked his eyes with
every sweep of his lashes.
When he finally came upon her, he was relieved but not surprised. From the moment he set after
her, he’d known he headed in the right direction. It felt almost as though an invisible silk thread bound
them together and he simply had to trust it would lead him to her before it was too late.
Thankfully it had.
The wind billowed a sheet of dust around him, muffling any noise made by his footfalls, yet he
approached her slowly, cautiously, hoping not to startle her. She’d curled up around herself, resting
her forehead on her knees. Her brown hair fell in a tangled sheet around her cheeks and her smooth,
flawless skin was coated in grime. Only the steady rise and fall of her shoulders gave any indication
she was still breathing.
As he’d searched, it felt as though his heart had shriveled up in his chest. He’d blocked all his
emotions, concentrating on nothing but finding Nel. He had no idea what he intended to do once he’d
caught up to her. And now, standing mere inches from her in a cloud of dust, both the future and the
past seemed very far away.
Kirel dug into his pack and pulled out the blanket he’d snatched from his bed, thankful he’d
thought to bring it. Only the red moon offered a mere sliver of light through the heavy cloud cover,
tinting the rock beneath which Nelina sat a color so crimson it looked like freshly spilled blood.
He ignored the shiver of apprehension snaking down his spine and crouched down, turning his
head away from the worst of the wind. Reaching out to drape the blanket around Nelina’s shoulders,
he slid beneath her stony shelter and pulled her to him.
She lifted her head a fraction and glanced at him through glazed eyes. When she parted her lips,
the words she uttered were lost to the storm. The side of her body molded to his and whatever feeble
self-control he might have possessed before that moment shattered beneath the onslaught of all the
emotions he’d pushed aside while searching for her.
Without stopping to consider his actions, he yanked down his mask and brought his mouth down
on hers, hard. A small huff escaped her lips, though whether it was one of anger, surprise or arousal,
he didn’t know and couldn’t bring himself to find out. He dug his fingers into her upper arms, clinging
to her as though he were drowning and she was his only lifeline. In that moment, she was all that and
more.
A low, guttural moan slid from her mouth into his, causing a rush of blood to swiftly surge into his
cock. He thrust his tongue against hers, tasting the dust she’d inhaled, clinging to the flavor of her
mouth, sucking it deep into his lungs.
A heartbeat later his hands were everywhere—smoothing the damp hair from her forehead,
cupping her face, drifting downward to cup her breasts. She shivered against him, her slender body
quaking with the bone-chilling cold. He gathered her to him and pressed her tightly against his chest,
willing all his body heat to seep out of him and enter her.
Gods, she was so fragile, so vulnerable. And so damn independent it broke his heart.
“Are you here to bring me back?” she asked when he released her mouth to trail his lips down the
column of her throat.
“I’m here because you need me.”
“I don’t—”
He kissed her again, silencing the inevitable protest. This time the kiss was slower, gentler, fueled
by the enormity of his love and the magnitude of what he’d done—what he was about to do—as much
as by his passion for her. She responded with a greed that kindled his own, nibbling at his lower lip,
sucking it between her teeth and swirling her tongue over the spot she’d pinched to soothe the pain.
“I didn’t think this through,” she admitted, pulling back just far enough to speak. Her lips brushed
against his with every word and her cherry-tainted breath filled his nostrils. “But that doesn’t mean
I’m going back.”
Kirel swallowed hard. He’d expected her to say that. And Gods help him, he didn’t care.
“I know,” he whispered. “Shivar may never forgive me. The Tradition won’t either. But I can’t
bring you to the castle only to turn you over to another man. It’s absurdly selfish and yet I can’t even
bear the thought of you in his arms. I can’t—” He bit off the rest of his words, took a deep breath then
continued. “I can’t spend the rest of my days as a Guardian trailing the happy royal couple like a
forgotten toy that had long ago been kicked aside. I couldn’t bear to watch you touch him, kiss him,
lean your head on his shoulder and giggle softly as he—”
“Ssshhh…” Nelina smoothed her fingers through his hair and brought her head closer to him so
their cheeks touched. Her lips brushed his ear when she spoke. “I will never mate with the king. Not
for the Tradition. Not even for Aris itself. The planet has survived without a queen for more than a
decade. It will continue to do so until the seer chooses a more suitable bride for the king.”
Kirel drew in a sharp intake of breath. “What really tears at my soul is knowing there is no more
suitable queen. Have you seen yourself? You move with the bearing of a woman who deserves to rule
a planet. You’re hard-headed and strong, which means you’d never back away from telling Shivar
exactly what he doesn’t want to hear if he’s making a decision that’s wrong for Aris. Face it, Nel. The
Tradition made the perfect choice.”
She sat still and rigid against him for a long time, not bothering to reply. Kirel tugged the blanket
higher around her shoulders and head, blocking the storm from entering their feeble shelter. The
thudding rhythm of her heartbeat against his both soothed and frightened him.
At long last she pushed away from him. He reached for her but she quickly nestled back against
him, only this time she’d climbed on his lap. Her thighs were open, her knees digging into the rocky
ground on either side of his legs. He could feel the warmth of her sex emanating through the fabric of
his skella, threatening to scorch him with its luscious, fragrant heat.
“What’s going to happen to you?” she asked, trailing a fingernail over his chest.
He shrugged. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I don’t think there’s a precedent for
something like this. No other Guardian has ever dared defy the Tradition. It goes against everything
we’ve been taught.”
Nelina’s hand dipped lower over his stomach to reach between them and grip his straining shaft in
her hand. With expert fingers, she untied the drawstring of his pants and pulled down the fabric to
grasp his cock in her delicate fist.
“Then come with me,” she said, stroking him. Her palm slid across the bulbous tip of his rod,
causing him to grit his teeth as a burst of raw pleasure settled deep in his taut balls. “We can be off
this planet before anyone even knows we’re gone.”
For a moment he forgot to breathe. The thought of running away with Nelina was so tempting, he
almost had himself convinced it was the right thing to do before common sense took over.
He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.
He owed his loyalty to Shivar and as much as he hated to admit it, he also owed it to Thor and
Domenic, who’d done everything in their power to help him deal with losing the woman he loved.
He couldn’t take the coward’s way out and abandon them. But he could ensure Nelina was safe
and as far away from Aris and the destiny the Tradition had chosen for her as possible.
He grunted something non-committal, hoping she wouldn’t press him. He didn’t want to think
about what would happen in a few hours when the storm quieted and dawn broke over the mountain.
Just once he wanted to live in the here and now, to forget about the duty that awaited him at the
end of this heavenly night. Because even though the brutal gale continued to sputter and howl, it
provided the perfect protection from the rest of the world. No one would be able to look for Nelina in
a storm like this. Or him for that matter.
Kirel slumped down slightly, giving Nel a little more room. The enclosed space beneath the rock
was cramped, making it impossible for Nelina to lift her head. She nestled her cheek against his
shoulder as her sensual, talented hands trailed a drop of pre-cum over his shaft until it was coated
with the slick liquid.
He bucked upward and thrust into her hand, a groan ripping from his throat. Leaning the back of
his head against the cliff face, he shifted so the tip of his cock pressed against the mouth of her
weeping slit.
“Think of it,” she murmured as she slid forward and back a fraction of an inch, parting her sex
lips with every pass over the head of his cock, “just you and me…traveling the universe. No one to
stop us. No one to tell us what we can do, where we can go…who we can mate with.”
Her words had lulled him into a sensual trance. They’d brought him inside a world where duty
didn’t exist and loyalty was merely a word instead of a way of life. He lingered there, lost in a haze
of lust and love and raw, primal heat until with a sudden jerk of her hips, she slammed down on him,
plunging his erect shaft into her dewy opening.
The muffled whimper that blended with the howling storm could have come from either of them.
Kirel’s hips thrust upward of their own accord, driving deep inside her wet and swollen pussy.
Nelina nipped at his shoulder, sinking her teeth into the flesh. Pleasure-pain arched through him
like a bolt of lightning. Nelina held herself still, propping her weight on her knees while he cupped
her ass and plunged into her, again and again and again.
He whispered her name like a mantra until her intoxicating scent, the sound of her name on his lips
and the feel of her tight cunt wrapped around his cock were all-consuming, drowning out the rest of
the world.
Fucking her felt natural, as though he’d done it a thousand times. And he had. In his dreams, he’d
spent countless nights thrusting inside her heated channel but it was always she who screamed his
name, she who quivered with barely contained lust as he plunged inside her heated depths.
But here, at the edge of Tradition Mountain, defying the Fates themselves, it was Kirel who found
himself on the brink of madness.
“Eight years…” Her husky voice slid right through him, burrowing in his balls and drawing his
sac up sharply against his groin. “I never thought I’d feel you in me again.”
“I’m sorry.” The words sounded feeble and insignificant but he couldn’t think of anything else that
would explain how he felt.
And then…he could.
“I love you,” he said as she slid down the length of his cock.
She gasped and lost her control of the sensual rhythm, sinking down all the way to the base of his
cock, embedding him so deep inside her he felt the tip of his shaft nudge her womb.
Kirel ground his pubic bone against her mound. “I always have.”
Nelina came with a powerful shudder, her cries echoing off the stone enclosure. Her pussy
squeezed down on his cock, milking him, sending him tumbling over the edge with her. The climax
burst from his agonized balls and spilled from his cock in hot, eager spurts that coated her still-
spasming channel. She clung to him, her nails digging into his arms as her inner walls trembled,
clutching him in a fist-tight grip.
Gasping for breath and finding a lungful of dust, Kirel tugged the blanket up around them. It had
fallen from Nelina’s shoulders at some point during their lovemaking but he couldn’t say when that
had happened.
Still holding her to him with his softening cock embedded in the warm heat of her pussy, Kirel
wrapped an arm around her waist and pressed her against his chest. “I don’t deserve you,” he
whispered against her hair. “I never have. That’s why the Fates have given you to someone else.
That’s why Shivar took me away from you.”
 The thundering beat of her heart matched her panting breaths in intensity. He was so attuned to her
body, he could make out every rippling, shuddering sigh, every twitch of her tense muscles.
“Why didn’t you look for me?” She’d asked the question so softly he had to strain to hear it.
“I was told you died. The night the Guardians came to remind me of my duty.”
“And you never questioned their story?” He searched for the accusation in her voice but found
nothing but tenderness there.
Kirel released a deep breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. “I had no reason to.”
After what seemed to Kirel like an eternity, she nodded against his chest and burrowed closer to
him. “I…understand. I can’t say I forgive you quite yet, but I understand. Besides, you’ll have the rest
of your life to make it up to me.”
The anguish that had been his constant companion for the past eight years came rushing back. It
encased his heart in pure misery, making it hard to fill his lungs with oxygen.
For the next two hours he smoothed her hair and listened as she spoke of all the things they’d be
able to experience once they left Aris and the Tradition behind. She planned everything in
heartbreaking detail and the more she talked, the greater the numbness that settled over his soul.
Sometime in the darkest hours of the night, the storm quieted. Nelina dozed comfortably against
his chest. Kirel’s muscles ached from being curled in the same position for hours, but the pain
traveling through his stiff limbs paled in comparison to the agony that had settled deep in the pit of his
rib cage and speared him each time he breathed.
Taking great care not to wake her, he lowered Nelina to the ground and wrapped the blanket
around her body. He straightened his clothes and left the pack beside her head. It contained everything
she’d need to make it to safety. She had a head start on the men Shivar would inevitably send for her
and she was clever, more so than anyone had given her credit for. If she could find a way out of the
castle no one else had even considered, she could make it off the planet.
Besides, she’d have him watching out for her. She wouldn’t know it, but he’d be with her every
step of the way until she left Aris behind.
“Twelve more years,” Kirel whispered as he allowed himself to gaze at her sleeping form one
last time. “Then I’ll come for you. I’ll find you if I have to scour every corner of the known universe.”
Steeling his nerves before he could reconsider, he spun around quickly and took off at a sprinting
pace up the side of the cliff face, using his hands and feet to climb as high as he could. He stopped
when he reached a winding path carved out on a high ledge that was perfectly suited for his needs.
He ducked behind a giant boulder and watched as the first glittering rays of sunlight spilled over
the shadowy edge of her shelter. She’d be rousing soon. It wouldn’t take her long to figure out he
wasn’t coming back. When that happened, she could set out for freedom.
Real freedom. Away from the Tradition and all the king’s men.
He glanced around him, pleased with the obscure trail he’d located so high up the mountainside.
From here, he could shadow her every move and protect her from the creatures that made their home
on Tradition Mountain.
A firm, masculine hand closed around the back of his neck, lifting him off his feet. A groan slid
from his lips as his muscles tightened in a fight or flight response that sent a jolt of adrenaline to surge
through his veins.
Warm lips pressed against his ear through soft, familiar fabric. “Have you ever wondered why
traps are such an effective method of capturing someone, Kirel?” Thor said, his voice dangerously
husky. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, one you may thank me for someday.”
As he spoke, more forms broke out of the shadows, silhouettes Kirel quickly recognized as men of
the castle guard.
“They work because the prey never sees it coming.”
 Chapter Nine

Nelina slung Kirel’s leather pack over her shoulder and took one last lingering look at the stone
outcropping that had served as her shelter the previous night.
“Give a man a taste and he’ll come back for more. Let him taste you twice and you’ll never see
him again.”
As a child, Nelina hadn’t grown up with bedtime stories of heroic deeds or tales of beautiful
damsels in distress and their handsome rescuers. She’d been raised with regular doses of no-
nonsense advice and crude sayings her mother had picked up from the inn’s guests. Many of them had
been commoners, men whose idea of a heroic deed was lasting for longer than two minutes before
spilling their seed inside a willing whore.
Which is exactly what Nelina had felt like when she’d awoken to find Kirel gone.
Now with the mid-morning sun beating down her back, she was ashamed to think she’d wasted the
better part of the morning expecting him to return. At first she’d thought he’d risen before her and had
left to scrounge up breakfast. She’d waited, wrapped up in a cocoon of warmth, inhaling the spicy,
masculine scent that still lingered on the blanket he’d brought with him.
It wasn’t until the sun had drifted over the ridge of the jutting rock that she began to think perhaps
he hadn’t gone hunting after all. He’d abandoned her, just as he’d done eight years ago.
And just as before, she was pining away for a man who’d never been what he’d claimed. He was
a scoundrel, pure and simple. A lover who’d put on a heck of a show for a woman who was
obviously too stupid to know better.
Swallowing hard, Nelina pulled the hood of the skella she’d found in the pack over her eyes to
block out the shimmering dust. At least he’d left her some supplies, though the oversized uniform, the
scraps of old food and the weapons were poor payment for the way he’d treated her.
Never in her entire life had she felt more used than she did at that exact moment. Even when Thor
and Domenic were sating their lust inside her body, she’d been in control. She could have put a stop
to the carnal activities at any time.
But the humiliation Kirel had saddled her with was almost beyond her ability to manage. She kept
replaying the events of the previous night through her mind, his voice ringing in her head with every
step she took.
I love you. I always have.
How little he must have thought of her to imagine she’d fall for such a tired line. And Gods, how
desperate she must have been to have believed him.
There’d been a time she’d yearned to hear those words from his mouth. This morning, she’d
learned the hard way that time was long gone.
Red dust coated the soles of her bare feet. Kirel hadn’t cared enough to leave her his boots and
her toes had long gone numb from the trek through the mountainside. She didn’t dare leave the
mountain in favor of the common road snaking through the valley below Tradition Mountain. There
was no doubt in her mind the king’s men would be scouring the terrain by now searching for her.
With any luck, she’d be able to avoid them completely by furtively following the brisk slope of
the mountain range until she reached Soori, the closest town with a space port and landing base for
off-world ships. Once there, finding passage on one of the vessels wouldn’t be a problem. As a
peaceful race, Arisians never put much stock in security procedures that would limit the comings and
goings of those who wished to visit their planet.
With the gold coins she’d found in the front pocket of Kirel’s pack, she’d have no trouble booking
passage to a nearby space station. From there, she could go anywhere, do anything…become anyone
she chose. There was no limit to what she could do once off this forsaken planet and no way for
anyone to track her down.
Not even the Guardians with all their bravado and macho arrogance.
Tears of frustration clogged her throat. She swallowed them down, refusing to give Kirel even that
much power over her. Last night she’d believed they’d be traipsing through the universe together.
She’d envisioned the two of them exploring new places, tackling new experiences, leaning on one
another and sharing everything the universe had to offer.
What a fool she’d been.
What a lovesick, idiotic fool—
A noise like the deep rumbling of an avalanche startled her out of her self-pitying thoughts. She
lunged backward a step and cautiously peered upward at the steep cliff face towering above her but
saw no sign of an impending rockslide.
Her heart had leapt into her throat at the sound and she had to take a deep, steadying breath to
calm her frazzled nerves. She was wound up much too tight. What she needed was to be off this hunk
of rock. Perhaps she’d head for a warmer planet, one that boasted a series of hedonistic pleasure
palaces with alien beings ready to obey and satisfy her every whim.
That certainly sounded much better than mating with the king of Aris or even being in Kirel’s arms
for that matter. She didn’t need him. She didn’t even want—
There was no noise this time, no warning. A heavy weight slammed into her from behind,
knocking her off her feet. She stumbled forward and fell face first against the unforgiving cliff. Only
her instinct to stretch out her palms as she fell saved her from smashing her cheek against the rough
surface of the rock.
Her breath had been knocked out of her chest. She struggled to draw air into her constricted lungs
but the incessant thrumming pressure that shoved against her back made it impossible to breathe.
That’s when she felt the claws ripping at the fabric of her skella and heard that low, guttural sound
again, the one she’d thought had been the groan of an incoming avalanche. It had been a growl, she
realized now through a rising wave of panic. A feral snarl vocalized through gritted teeth.
The creature tugged at her clothes, its claws scraping the skin along the knobby protrusions of her
spine. She heard it snap its teeth close to her ear. Its fetid breath warmed her cheek as it huffed
through its nostrils. A long, wet tongue scraped her earlobe.
With a shudder, she forced herself to lie still beneath its forceful paws. She hadn’t been able to
get a look at the beast but she guessed it had to be a linqust, a creature she’d heard about but had
never encountered. Not many people had. Legend had it they were created from the mouth of Tradition
Mountain’s volcano itself. Black as the night sky with an insatiable hunger for blood, the rumors she’d
heard spoke of their talent for tormenting a victim before finally tearing his throat and devouring what
little was left of the poor soul by that point.
Something sharp dug into the pit of her stomach, just beneath her bellybutton.
Kirel’s blade.
She’d thrust it into the waistband of the pants before tying the rope tightly around it to hold them
up. Now the weapon pressed against her flesh, hard and insistent, trapped between her body and the
jagged rock.
The creature snorted, pawing at her torn skella, lingering on the curve of her back, just above her
buttocks. It toyed with her, in no rush to maim or mangle, almost as if it fed on her fear and enjoyed
her terror even more than it would relish clawing her apart.
Gritting her teeth, Nelina shifted a fraction of an inch, just enough to slide her fingertips against
her waist. The linqust gave a low, warning growl. Heart hammering, she held her breath and waited
until it returned its attention to the fabric of her pants. It hooked a sharp claw beneath her waistband
and tugged, tearing a long strip with little effort.
The rope she’d tied around her waist fell around either side of her, loosening the blade. Knowing
this was the only opportunity she’d ever get, Nelina thrust her hand down the front of her abdomen
and gripped the hilt of the weapon.
The creature reacted as she tugged it out from beneath her but she moved with an almost
supernatural force. Survival instinct guided her hand. She wrenched her wrist backward, slamming
the blade with an uncanny accuracy into the beast’s gut.
It howled in agony, leaping off her in a stumbling lurch. As it fought to get away, the blade slashed
smoothly through pulpy tissue and muscle, carving a gaping wound through the beast’s belly.
With a howl that threatened to split her eardrums, the linqust scurried up the mountain, leaving
splashes of dark blood in the dust-strewn cliff face.
Nelina rolled on her back, blade gripped in both hands, chest heaving. Her hair was slicked to her
forehead, falling into her eyes. Through the messy strands, she thought she could make out a dark,
masculine shape.
She blinked and shook her head, trying to clear her field of vision. It only took her a heartbeat
longer to realize that had been a very bad idea.
Thor clapped his hands, the sound echoing mockingly off the sheer rock. “Why, m’lady, I was
going to come to your rescue but it seems you have everything under control.”
She scowled and scrambled to her feet. The ripped tunic fell forward, drooping over the slope of
her breasts. Propping it up against her chest with her left hand to keep from exposing herself, she held
the outstretched blade gripped in her right fist pointed at him. Linqust blood dripped off the weapon’s
metal edge, shimmering darkly in the sunlight.
“One step closer and I’ll skewer you just like I did that beast.”
Strong arms enveloped her from behind. Before she could even comprehend what was happening,
Domenic had knocked the blade from her hand and sent it clattering down the mountainside.
Thor moved forward with the determined stride of a predator. Nelina’s pulse thundered wildly in
her ears, fear gripping her heart. He looked more menacing than the linqust ever had—and much more
dangerous.
He trailed the tip of his finger along her jaw. Nelina kicked out but he didn’t even flinch when her
bare foot connected with his shin.
Cupping her chin, he held her face tightly and forced her to look at him. The wild fury shimmering
in his eyes sent a spiraling wave of apprehension into the pit of her stomach. “We’ll be the ones doing
the skewering, my queen.”

*****
Finally, Kirel thought as he reached for the door handle. The soft rap that had sounded only
moments earlier had signaled the first time someone deigned to contact him all day. Once the guards
had hauled him back to the castle, they’d unceremoniously dumped him back in his chambers where
he found his window already barred. His door had also remained locked from the outside and no
matter how much he pummeled it with his fist, the guard on the other side refused to open it, mumbling
something about orders.
He pulled the door open, finding it unlocked this time, and looked straight into Vida’s eerie
amber-flecked eyes. The seer raised an eyebrow, giving him a cursory once-over. He steeled his jaw,
knowing how disheveled he still looked. Having given Nelina his spare skella, the one he’d worn that
morning had been the only uniform he had left. Since he figured the king wouldn’t require his services
today, he’d changed into the loose linen pants and tunic he preferred, but the dust and grime of the
storm still clung to him. Nelina’s smell swirled around him as well, as did the scent of sex, just as
heady and musky as though she’d only moments earlier smeared his skin with her wet heat.
He gave Vida a too-bright smile that did little to mask his apprehension. “Has Shivar sent for
me?”
She nodded, gesturing toward the end of the hall. “We’re expected in the Temple. I didn’t know
you’d be so unkempt or I’d have come for you sooner. We’ll have to stop at the hot springs. I’ll wait
while you bathe but, Kirel…hurry. There isn’t much time.”
A shiver of unease snaked up his spine. He fell into step beside her without a second thought.
“Thor found her then?”
She glanced at him sideways, her all-seeing eyes darkening momentarily. “Did you really think he
wouldn’t?”
“Nelina escaped. It must be clear to everyone by now that she won’t go through with this. Doesn’t
that mean you’ll have to conduct another reading? Find someone else?”
A frown tugged at the corners of Vida’s mouth, making her ageless porcelain face twist with
exhaustion and worry. “There is no one else, Kirel. The Tradition has chosen Nelina. I don’t know
what the Fates will do to her if she refuses to see this through. If she fails, the consequences could be
even more dire. It must be her. Whether you want to accept it or not, you know that too.”
His blood ran like ice in his veins. He stopped dead in his tracks and dug his fingers into Vida’s
upper arms, turning her to face him. “Where is she?”
For a moment, he thought Vida wouldn’t answer. Fear and anguish twisted Kirel’s gut, causing his
muscles to tense and stiffen until he thought he’d start shaking her if she didn’t say something soon.
Vida sighed. “She’s being brought to the Temple, just like you are. In the meantime, she’s being
readied for the Trials. They’re happening, Kirel. Today.”
“Readied,” he echoed. Jealousy twisted like a blade between his ribs, heading straight for his
heart. “Thor and Domenic?”
 “They left her in the servants’ care once they brought her back.” She touched his hand lightly, her
voice softening. “They’re not allowed to fuck her on the day of the Trials. You know that.”
Relief swept through him in such a sudden rush it made his knees buckle. The Guardians may not
have been allowed to fuck her, but he’d done just that.
No, he corrected himself, he’d made love to her. And it had been wondrous.
Releasing Vida, he stormed through the castle, no longer caring whether the seer was following.
He knew she would be. Pausing at the mouth of the tunnel leading to the hot springs cavern, he raced
down the steps two at a time then plunged into the pool fully dressed.
Peeling the wet clothes from his flesh and kicking his boots to the bottom of the pool, he dunked
his head beneath the surface of the warm water one last time before pulling himself out of the hot
spring. Water sluiced off his body to drip onto the volcanic rock.
He found Vida standing at the foot of the stairs, a gold-trimmed robe held in her outstretched
hands. He pulled it on without a word, recognizing it as the traditional ceremonial robes worn by
worshippers during any service held in the Temple.
Although every city on Aris, no matter how small, had a Tradition Temple of its own, the royal
Temple was reserved only for the king and his immediate kin. As such, entry was forbidden to the
public—and even to the courtiers who called Waldemar Castle home—on all days but those of the
mating Trials. During the king’s mating ceremony, all of Aris was invited to watch and revel in the
newfound joy of their king and queen, united as one in the ruling of their people.
Vida smoothed a lock of hair away from his temple before nodding her approval. “Much better.
Let’s go.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. They walked in silence, his bare feet making no sound on the rock
floor as they touched the ground. He refused to think about Nelina in Thor and Domenic’s arms but
images of her in Shivar’s bed kept breaking through the barrier he’d erected in his mind. They’d
almost reached the entrance to the Temple when he realized he’d fisted his hands at his sides and dug
his fingernails into his palms hard enough to send a jolt of pain up his arm.
Shaking out his clenched fingers, Kirel drew in a deep breath and paused at the mouth of the
Temple cavern. Like every other chamber in the royal castle, it had been carved out of Tradition
Mountain.
This Temple was said to be the closest to the heart of the Tradition. The kings and queens who
prayed here were believed to have the ear of the Fates, able to send their supplication directly to the
deities themselves.
For his part, Kirel didn’t care whether or not the Fates could witness the mating ceremony. He
wasn’t about to let it happen either way.
He strode in at Vida’s side through the spacious domed entranceway. Torchlight glittered off the
sleek ebony rock, sending shimmering arches of color to dance over the surface of the walls and
floor.
Before tonight, Kirel had never been inside. He’d had no idea what to expect but he’d assumed
the grandeur and elegance of other Temples would pale in comparison.
He’d been right.
The cavern was immense, stretching as far as the eye could see in every direction, as though it had
been carved to form a perfect hollow into the very heart of the mountain. Stalactites crystallized from
dripping lava hung downward from the vaulted ceiling, some long enough to graze the top of his head.
In the center of the Temple stood a raised dais. Sheets of gauzy material the color of Arisian sand
fell in ripples around the rotund base of the stage. These had been gathered in four sections, the
individual strips bound together with golden ribbons, allowing the view of the middle of the dais to
remain unobstructed. In the center of the stage, plump satin pillows as tall as a man and almost as
wide across had been artfully arranged. Four crystal bowls dotted the four corners of the platform.
Kirel didn’t need to see the contents to know they held the lubricant that would allow the Guardians
to fuck Nelina without worrying about their seed quickening inside her.
Arranged in a semicircle around the dais, two dozen elaborately studded chairs had been
strategically placed to provide the best viewing experience. Twenty-one council members had taken
their seats around Shivar, who sat on his throne in the center of the arrangement. At his right, an
identical throne stood empty. Beside it, a smaller chair crested with three overlapping moons awaited
Vida. Domenic and Thor stood directly behind the king.
On either side of the archway through which Kirel had entered sat rows upon rows of black stone
benches lined with velvet pillows. As the day of the Trials had been moved up due to Nelina’s escape
attempt, Kirel hadn’t expected many Arisian citizens to turn out for the ceremony.
He’d been wrong.
The benches were filled to the brink with all manner of people numbering in the hundreds,
perhaps even thousands. Some, like the courtesan he’d encountered the night they’d brought Nelina to
the castle, he recognized. But almost everyone else was a stranger to him. And they were all here to
watch the woman he loved be brought to the pinnacle of ecstasy and claimed by the king’s men before
ultimately being handed to Shivar.
Suddenly, Kirel found it hard to breathe.
“There,” Vida said, pointing to a row of long benches situated in front of the dais. “I made sure
there would be an empty space for you. Thor argued against it of course, but I convinced him to allow
you to attend. He will have you tossed out of the ceremony at the slightest hint of a disturbance so
behave yourself for once, all right?”
Kirel struggled to come up with a sarcastic reply but nothing came to him. Instead, he shuffled
forward on numb feet and collapsed onto the velvet pillow placed there for the comfort of the king’s
guests and did his best to avoid Thor’s narrowed gaze.
Despite the size of the crowd, the hush that enveloped the Temple was almost absolute. No one
spoke. The shuffle of eager excitement imbued the air with a carnal, expectant electric charge. From
where he sat, Kirel could make out the multitude of curious glances being cast toward the
entranceway. Everyone anxiously anticipated the queen’s arrival.
Everyone but him.
Kirel scrubbed a hand over his face, flinging a lock of damp hair away from his eyes. His mind
churned as he struggled to come up with a way to end this here and now. But how could he, when so
many people had come to witness a new era of peace and prosperity being ushered in? The union
between Nelina and Shivar was meant to create stability for the people of Aris, to ensure a period of
fortune and security blessed upon them by a Tradition that would be obeyed today just as it had been
for millennia.
As ever, Aris’ wellbeing depended on its royals.
It depended on Nelina.
 The animated scrapes and shuffles came to an abrupt stop and a hush so complete settled over the
Temple that for a moment, Kirel thought he’d been struck deaf. Fitting punishment from the Fates, he
supposed, but even that had been denied him.
When the first awed gasp reached his ears, Kirel lifted his head…and found himself staring at a
goddess.
Nelina walked in unescorted. No, she didn’t walk, he corrected himself. She glided, her bare feet
barely touching the ground. She held her head high and her back straight, shoulders pulled back as she
passed through the narrow passage between the benches. Her slender curves were draped in a gauzy
material so sheer he could make out every inch of her sensual flesh. Dark areolas and firm nipples
peeked through the creamy material and the curls at the apex of her thighs brushed against the
translucent silk with every step she took.
Her long brown hair had been shorn. It hung loose and flowing over her shoulders, but where it
had once reached the middle of her back, it now barely touched the slope of her breasts. A ribbon of
solid gold circled her forehead, causing the shimmering tresses to frame her porcelain face.
The effect was breathtaking. She was a picture of royal grace and carnal seduction all wrapped in
a gossamer package.
Kirel didn’t recognize the soft, strained sound that floated to his ears as his own until he repeated
it, the strangled groan sliding between his parted lips as his cock hardened like a steel rod against his
belly. The ceremonial robe he wore offered no constraints and his thick erection rose and curled
against his heated flesh, taunting him with his inability to control his reaction toward her. Aris’ future
queen.
Nelina moved through the crowd with a certainty borne of determination and dogged obstinacy.
She didn’t look left or right at the admiring crowd as she passed them. Instead, her gaze remained
fixed firmly on Shivar.
Holy Moon Gods! Why was she doing this? She’d made it clear that mating with the king was the
last thing she wanted to do. So then why was she acting as though she hadn’t been coerced into going
through with the mating ceremony? Why wasn’t she running screaming in the opposite direction?
When she neared him, he caught a whiff of cherries. The scent burrowed deep in his balls, teasing
his tender sac. He clenched his jaw, but not before he whispered her name.
For a brief, heart-stopping moment, she turned her head. Their gazes met and held. He opened his
mouth without thinking of what he’d say, knowing simply he had to speak. He had to tell her she was
making a big mistake.
Then she glanced away and the connection was broken. As though she hadn’t even recognized
him, she continued walking toward the center of the Temple. When she reached the dais, she lifted the
hem of her gauzy garment and stepped up onto the platform.
Thor and Domenic rose. They joined Nelina on the stage, framing her lithe form between their
strong, masculine physiques. Like Kirel and everyone else in the room, they too wore pearl-colored
ceremonial robes trimmed in gold. Only Shivar’s formal vestments spoke of his royal bearing. His
robe was entirely gold-colored with emerald trim bordering the hems of his sleeves.
“Fellow Arisians,” Vida said, her voice carrying through the cavern, “we are gathered here today
to witness the Trials of Nelina Lannen, chosen by the Tradition to become our new queen. I would ask
that you all remain seated for the duration of the ceremony, regardless of how much you may desire to
rise and clean up.” A lilting chuckle went up from the audience. Vida smiled good-naturedly then
continued. “There will be no running commentary, no explanation of what is happening on stage.
Many of you are familiar with the Trials. For those of you who are not, I’ll only say that there are
three of them. We’ll bear witness to the Test of Submission first. If Nelina passes, the Fates will let
me know and in turn, I will instruct the Guardians to continue. The Test of Sharing is next. If our
lovely queen-to-be has learned to share herself body and soul with the people of Aris, we will
rejoice in the Test of Release.”
Vida’s voice quivered momentarily. Kirel waited along with everyone else as the pause stretched
on a beat too long.
At last, the seer cleared her throat. “The Test of Release isn’t really a Trial at all. There has been
no training or preparation for this final step of the mating ceremony. During this time, the new royal
couple will consummate their union and test their compatibility, affirming their dedication to one
another, to the Tradition and to Aris.”
A murmur of approval slid through the crowd. Kirel didn’t join in. His lips were pressed together
into a thin line. Adrenaline surged through his muscles, pumping a steady stream of anxious energy
through his veins.
“Sit back, relax and delight in the pleasures being bestowed upon Nelina. For the remainder of the
evening we can all live vicariously through her.”
The audience sighed appreciatively but Kirel narrowed his eyes. Was it his imagination or had
Vida’s words held a little more sarcasm than necessary? He clenched his fists on his knees,
wondering if he had an ally tonight. Perhaps Vida’s reasons for bringing him here to witness the Trials
weren’t as altruistic as they could have been.
Swallowing hard, Kirel forced himself to look to the center of the dais where Thor was reaching
for the clasp holding Nelina’s garment together over one shoulder. He unhooked it with leisurely
grace and the material fell to the floor, pooling around Nelina’s feet.
She stood naked before them, her royal bearing never faltering. This time, she allowed her gaze to
roam over the crowd but avoided the row where he sat, transfixed by her ethereal beauty.
Her right hand slid down over her belly to nudge her pussy lips with her index finger. A groan
lodged in Kirel’s throat. His cock pulsed, oozing a bead of liquid from the gaping slit.
Vida had been right. At this rate, he’d need to clean up multiple times before the Trials were over.
And afterward he’d need an ice-cold bath and a few bottles of Siccian wine to block out the sight of
Nelina—his Nelina—sharing herself body and soul with all the king’s men.
All the king’s men but him.

Thor slid his hands up Nelina’s arms until he could curve his palms around her shoulders then
turned her so she was pressed against his chest. He tucked her head beneath his chin and raked his
fingers down her back to cup her ass, drawing her closer yet.
His erection pressed rigidly against her stomach, impossible to ignore. Cream slicked her nether
lips, the response purely feminine.
“The Trial of Submission is the easiest one,” he whispered in her ear. “Let us pleasure you,
Nelina. You’ve passed once you peak. It’s just that simple.”
She clenched her fingers in the silky material of his robes and closed her eyes, breathing in his
scent. “There’s nothing simple about this.”
 He chuckled softly, the sound almost comforting.
This entire day had been a series of trials and none had been easy. She’d struggled fiercely as
Thor and Domenic returned to the castle, all the while thinking of ways to escape them. Her efforts,
no matter how valiant, had been of no use.
Once back at the castle, the Guardians had handed her over to the care of a dozen female servants
who’d been tasked with preparing her for the upcoming Trials. They’d bathed her despite her sullen
attitude and decidedly non-queen-like snarls.
Even that she could have endured if she hadn’t been surrounded by brawny guards who’d been
assigned to keep a close eye on her. They’d even watched as she’d bathed, though thinking back on it
now, she supposed that had been a blessing in disguise. Their lustful stares had given her a taste of
what the Trials would entail.
While going through the motions of readying herself for the Trials, she’d managed to come up with
a plan that hopefully wouldn’t get her killed. She had no idea what the punishment of the Fates
entailed, but it had to be preferable to mating with a man she didn’t love. A man she didn’t even
know.
Now all she had to do was implement that plan.
Nelina closed her eyes, breathing in Thor’s scent. He smelled of sheer masculine musk. The
aroma was pleasant enough but it was nothing like Kirel’s spicy, almost savage scent.
Good.
It would be impossible to trick her body or her foolish mind into thinking it was Kirel touching
her, teasing her, bringing her to the brink of ecstasy and sending her tumbling over the edge. As long
as she didn’t look at him, she’d be safe from the magnetic power he had over her.
Once she failed the Trials, the seer would have no choice but to choose another queen. She’d
accept whatever punishment the Fates thought up for her. And then she’d be free to get away from here
and live the rest of her life as far as possible from the wicked temptation of Kirel’s myriad little lies.
And they’d all been lies. Everything he’d ever told her. He’d just about admitted as much when
he’d abandoned her on Tradition Mountain without a word of goodbye.
He was a coward too. Why else would he be sitting in the audience, content to watch other men
ravish her instead of enjoying her body like the other Guardians? He had to know she was furious. He
probably even suspected that if he neared her, she was as likely to kick him where it would hurt the
most as she was to welcome him into an intimate embrace.
Yet there’d been a moment, a mere fraction of a second while their gazes had met as she’d swept
past him, when she could have sworn the agony in his dark eyes had been real. His brows had been
drawn downward, eyelashes casting long shadows over his sculpted cheekbones. He hadn’t shaved
and the rough traces of a blossoming beard had given him a feral appearance that had sent a pulse of
arousal straight to her clit.
Then he’d opened his mouth to speak and she’d wisely gathered what was left of her wits, forcing
herself to look away before whatever spell he’d cast on her could take hold again.
I love you. I always have.
Liar.
Angry with her thoughts for taking such a dire turn, she rubbed her mound against Thor’s muscular
thighs, grateful when she felt nothing more than the gentle flutter of a distant arousal travel through her
veins.
All she had to do was keep her climax in check, no matter what the Guardians did to her. How
hard could that be?
She steeled her nerves and pulled back a fraction then lifted herself on the tips of her toes and
pressed a kiss to Thor’s lips. It was chaste at first but she felt him respond instantly. His hands
kneaded the flesh of her ass cheeks and his mouth opened to her insistent prodding.
This was the Trial of Submission but unbeknownst to them, she was the one in control.
Thor’s tongue grazed her lips, burrowing inside her mouth. He was a skilled kisser but the swift
swirl of his tongue against hers didn’t remind her at all of the way Kirel had kissed—gently, with so
much pent-up passion that every small stroke had sent shimmering sensations to dance through her
veins.
Warmth and hard steel pressed against her back.
Domenic.
She felt his hands caressing her rib cage, fluttering over the sides of her breasts. His touch sent a
shiver down her spine. Thor chuckled against her mouth, released her then spun her around so he
handed her into Domenic’s arms in a perfectly performed move, as though he’d been practicing that
hand-off for an eternity.
Domenic wasted no time claiming her mouth. His kiss was filled with curiosity. She could taste
his arousal as he thrust his tongue between her lips, mimicking the act of fucking with wild abandon.
He cupped her right breast in his broad hand and plucked a nipple between thumb and forefinger.
Arousal shimmied through her pussy lips, causing a tiny spark of heat to light within her.
She kissed him back eagerly, knowing she was nowhere near the danger zone. She had to give
Thor credit for knowing of what he spoke. This was almost too easy.
With a false purr she summoned from deep in her throat, Nelina grabbed Domenic’s hand and led
it down the slope of her belly to her pussy. Her inner folds were dewy, slightly moistened by her
natural cream.
He groaned against her mouth when his fingers found her wet heat. Sliding one into her pussy, he
began finger-fucking her in earnest, his tongue matching the rhythm he set between her legs.
Strong hands grabbed her ass cheeks, spreading them open. She nudged herself forward, arching
her back, giving Thor greater access to do what he intended.
He burrowed between her legs, his mouth flush with her pussy. The first swipe of his tongue
through her slit nearly sent her knees buckling. She pictured him having to lick her outer labia in order
to avoid Domenic’s finger and the thought caused another small gush of liquid to coat her inner walls.
So intense was her concentration that her senses became hyper-aware. She was conscious of the
way those in the audience watched her and found herself wondering whether anyone she knew had
attended. Would Reah be there, growing damp at the sight of two strong men pleasuring her? Would
the seamstresses who’d seemed so eager to be chosen be touching themselves, cursing her all the
while?
Thor lapped her juices with apparent relish, circling her clit like a trained predator. She squirmed
and thrust her hips in rhythm with Domenic’s strokes but she was no closer to orgasm now than she’d
been when they’d started.
She closed her eyes, picturing herself as if from above while the Guardians did carnal, passionate
things to her body. They relished her with pleasure, focusing on her wants and caring nothing for their
own desires.
She could almost see Thor’s shaft, stretched like a steel rod against his belly as he kneeled on the
floor, a silk pillow beneath his knees, his robe tossed over a bowl of lubricant. And Domenic, his
firm ass hollowing through the folds of his garment as he rubbed the tip of his cock in smooth, circular
movements over her navel.
They were both dazzling specimens of the male form. Any other woman would have been
delighted to welcome them into her bed. Into her heart.
Unfortunately for the two virile Guardians, Kirel had beaten them to it. He’d done such a number
on Nelina’s heart that she was unable to allow herself to open up to them enough to receive the
pleasure they so intently tried to bestow upon her.
Gods, but she hated to admit how desperately in love she was with Kirel. Yet how could she deny
it? She’d loved him madly for all the years she’d thought him tortured by the king or worse. And
despite herself, she’d fallen even more in love with him over the past few days.
How ironic then that her love for him, the love he wasn’t capable of returning, was the one thing
that would save her from her fate.
“Stop! Gods above, can’t you see this isn’t working?”
Nelina froze. The blood drained from her face as she heard Kirel’s voice boom through the
interior of the cavern.
Thor’s mouth slipped a notch and he ended up placing a kiss on the inside of her thigh. “Don’t
move,” he said. “Dom, watch her.”
Domenic nodded. Withdrawing his fingers from her channel, he gathered her to him and pressed
her back against his chest. She clung to him, unable to do anything else.
Thor stormed toward the front row where Kirel stood, hands fisted at his sides.
“What in the name of the Tradition do you think you’re doing?” Thor ground out between clenched
teeth.
Kirel shoved past him, his shoulder ramming into the other man’s arm. “What you couldn’t.”
Nelina’s eyes widened as she took in the determination in his step. She could read his intention on
his features. Gods, he looked as if he wanted to devour her whole! Lust and sheer agony shadowed
his dark eyes yet he continued to move forward. For a moment, she had the impression that an army of
guards wouldn’t be able to stop Kirel from reaching her.
Domenic held out a hand, pressing his palm against Kirel’s chest. He held Nelina away from him,
inserting his body between them. “I can’t let you do that.”
On the benches surrounding the dais, the grumble of discontent that had begun as a low buzz had
grown to a loud murmur.
“They’re getting restless,” Kirel said, jerking his head over his shoulder in the direction of the
crowd. “How much longer do you think they’ll let us stand here and squabble?”
Vida came up to stand beside Kirel. Tilting her head, she assessed him from beneath furrowed
brows. “Why would you do this?”
A muscle pulsed in Kirel’s jaw. He looked straight at Nelina and the fire in his eyes threatened to
burn her alive. The sight of it sent a spearing jolt of heat to her pussy where it lingered and spread
outward, causing ripples of sensation to course through her nerve endings.
 “Because she’s going to be the best damn queen Aris has ever known. Look at her.” He’d raised
his voice and the sound of it carried through the Temple like booming thunder. “Have you ever seen
anyone more suited for the throne? The woman can keep her composure and behave like royalty even
when on display in front of a thousand people. She’s utterly, devastatingly…perfect. Gods forgive
me…even I’m not that selfish.”
The noise that had risen from those assembled dimmed as Kirel’s words sank in. Vida tilted her
head in a gesture of consent and compliance. To Nelina’s astonished dismay, when Vida moved aside,
she took Thor and Domenic with her.
In the span of a heartbeat, Nelina found herself standing alone, facing a man intent on ravishing her
until she gave him everything he demanded.
“Holy Moon Gods,” she murmured. “I’m fucked.”
 Chapter Ten

“Not yet. But you will be.”

Nelina took a step backward then another while Kirel advanced, shedding his robe as he walked,
his bare feet thudding on the dais. On the third quivering retreat, her heel caught in a tassel
embroidered on the edge of a silk pillow. She stumbled and fell, crashing to the ground and landing
perfectly in a mouthwatering display of open thighs and trembling pussy lips.
Kirel was upon her in a heartbeat. He dove straight for the heated gap of her slit, his breath
caressing the dewy pink folds. The scent of her arousal teased his nostrils, lodging straight in his
heart. It took all his self-control to hold himself back when all he wanted to do was attack her
beautiful juicy pussy with his mouth.
Languidly, he trailed the pad of his thumb over her mound, parting the damp curls to lightly circle
her clit. Nelina sucked in a breath, her muscles shuddering beneath his touch.
“There’s no use fighting it. You will come for me, Nel.” He spoke softly, with a certainty that
dispelled any misgivings he might have had. He’d watched her with Domenic and Thor. Oh she’d
been enjoying the experience well enough, but they would never bring her to the height of ecstasy.
She needed something else. She needed him.
“Never,” she spat. Arching her back, she lifted her torso from the pillow and propped her weight
on her elbows.
Gods, she was beautiful. He devoured her with his gaze, pausing to admire the dip of her navel,
the way her flat belly rippled with tension, her breasts heaving with every strained breath. Sweat
slicked her temples and tendrils of hair stuck to her face. A flush had crept up her cheeks, setting off
those brilliant blue eyes like sparkling jewels against a backdrop of pure heat.
She was a goddess. A queen.
And he was going to start treating her that way.
Kirel trailed two of his fingertips through the pursed groove of her sex. She squirmed, wriggling
beneath his touch. Despite her efforts to deny him, he felt her labia swell. The mouth of her cunt gaped
open, the muscles there contracting in vain, seeking the thrill of penetration he knew she craved.
“Of course you will, m’lady. And do you know why?”
She clenched her teeth. Anger and unabashed lust shadowed her eyes. At last she shook her head
vehemently from side to side.
“Because your body, your mind and your heart trust me unconditionally.”
She began to scoff and he knew another denial was right on the tip of her tongue. He didn’t give
her a chance to give voice to whatever angry quips raced through her mind. Instead, he positioned his
mouth even with the bud of her clit and planted a gentle, preliminary kiss on the little bundle of nerve
endings.
The desire he’d been steadily cultivating within her exploded. She raised her hips and Kirel
swirled the tip of his tongue around her engorged clit. She came, thrashing wildly beneath him with a
howl that bounced off the stalactites and made the crystallized icicles chant in unison. A trembling
chorus of chiming peals of crystalline sound drifted through the Temple.
There was a moment of awed silence while Nelina’s cry subsided before a tumult of applause
burst through the cavern.
Nelina collapsed onto the pillow. Kirel never took his eyes off her. He didn’t need to consult with
Vida to know the Fates were pleased. Nelina had passed the Test of Submission better than anyone
could have expected.
For everyone else, this was a moment of joyous celebration. Their new queen was two Trials
away from taking her place at Shivar’s side.
Not so for Kirel. His chest constricted with an all-encompassing, pressing ache that clawed at
what was left of his heart. He knew part of his soul had been torn away the moment Nelina’s
explosive keening signaled her release.
“Good,” Thor said as he approached, nodding his approval. “Very good.”
Kirel tried to ignore him but he caught the glitter of the translucent bowl and knew the next Trial
would try his resolve even further. For a moment, he had the wild notion that the Fates weren’t testing
Nelina as much as they were testing him.
He caressed the inside of Nelina’s thighs with his palms, banishing the absurd thought. The
Tradition had no interest in him. He was a Guardian, not royalty. There was no reason for the Fates to
take notice of him beyond ensuring he fulfilled his duty to the king…and to his new queen.
The musky scent of her cream teased his nostrils, causing him to draw a deep breath and fill his
lungs with the flavorful aroma. He knew the taste of her pussy, the smell of her arousal. He knew
everything about her. Why then, were the Fates so cruel as to tear her away from him? They belonged
together. He felt it, deep in his soul. But how could he convince a world of people who believed in
the power of the Tradition above all else of that?
“Lift her up,” Thor instructed. “Then lie down. Since she likes you so much, we’ll have her
straddle you.”
Nelina peered at Kirel through heavy-lidded eyelids. “What if I refuse?”
He squeezed her hips gently then ran his hands down the sides of her body and scooped her off the
pillow. She clung to his neck, her heartbeat hammering against his chest.
“It’s a little late for that,” he whispered, running his palm over her hair to soothe her. “Aris needs
you too much. We all do.”
“You…you could have come with me last night. They wouldn’t have caught us. We’d have been
off this planet by now.”
He pulled back and stared into her eyes. The depth of emotion he saw there took his breath away.
For the first time there was no fury or stubbornness in her gaze. There was simply naked truth and a
love so strong it made his knees buckle.
“I did come with you…in my own way. But the Fates had other plans.” She started to turn away
but he grabbed her chin between his fingers and kept her gaze glued to his. “I love you, Nel. But I owe
Aris my life. I can’t leave. And whether you want to accept it or not, you’re as much a part of this
planet as I am. More so even. You’re meant to lead these people at Shivar’s side.” His gut twisted as
he gave voice to the inevitable conclusion of the Trials. “And I’m meant to watch you from a distance.
If you’ll let me, perhaps every now and again I can tell you how proud I am of you.”
 He placed a soft kiss on her forehead. Something wet splashed against his chest. It wasn’t until he
released her that he realized it was a solitary tear that had trickled down her cheek to drip onto him.
Gods give me strength.
He rose, chose the longest pillow, stacked it on top of another four plump mounds and then
stretched out on his back upon it about two feet from the ground. His shaft throbbed against his
abdomen. Cupping it in his fist, he stroked his palm up and down the length of his erection. If this was
the last time he was going to fuck her, then he’d enjoy every moment of it. And when he lay in bed late
at night, bringing himself to climax with nothing more than the memories that lived inside his mind, he
could take solace in knowing that perhaps he’d given her something to remember too.
Domenic placed a bowl of lubricant on the pillow closest to him. With a nod of thanks, Kirel
scooped some up on his fingertips and spread the mixture over the length of his shaft, coating it
thoroughly. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Thor doing the same. His gaze however, remained
fixed on Nelina.
She stood off to the side, hands tightly fisted against her legs. Her back was stiff and her breasts
quivered slightly. Long, distended nipples stood proudly erect. He allowed himself to look at her and
imprint her lush sensuality on his mind. This was the way he wanted to remember her forever. As the
warrior queen she was, who’d handle everything fate threw at her and come out stronger for it.
He lifted a hand and beckoned with his fingers for her to come to him. After a moment’s
hesitation, she crossed the distance between them.
Kirel looked up into the furrowed dark pleasures hidden between her legs. “Come to me, my
queen. It has to be now. Give yourself to me. To us.”
The tip of her tongue swept out over her lower lip. He could almost see the inner turmoil warring
within her but there was no denying the musky scent of her arousal or the way her lips parted on a
sigh.
She wanted this. As much as she didn’t care to contemplate what came after the pleasure was
over, she craved the Trial of Sharing with every desperate quiver of her body.
He held her hand as she swung one foot over his waist and lowered herself across it. In the other
fist, Kirel held his cock, watching her pink folds descend upon the bulbous tip.
“That’s it,” he soothed gently. “Come to me.”
She grasped her lower lip between her teeth and rubbed the swollen folds of her sex against his
slick rod. A groan slid out from between Kirel’s lips. His cock twitched, eager to be embedded
inside her wet heat.
An appreciative murmur went up from the crowd. Kirel ignored it. Judging by the way Nelina
held his gaze, she hadn’t paid it any heed either.
He watched, thoroughly enthralled, as his cock head stretched her opening, distending the firm
muscles there. She lowered herself a fraction of an inch while Kirel fought to keep his hips still. He
wanted her to set the pace, at least at first. Rushing her by pumping upward and impaling her would
rob her of the sensation of being in control and until Thor and Domenic joined their cocoon of
pleasure, he didn’t want anything to take away from the bliss coursing through her.
Kirel gasped as she took him inside her, inch by excruciating inch. He glanced down where her
sex lips were wrapped around his cock, realizing he’d never seen a more captivating sight. He was
wedged inside her pussy, the base of his rod protruding from her slit. Her thigh muscles shook with
the strain of holding herself up. And then in a heartbeat, she’d taken him fully inside her.
Rocking gently against him, Nelina gave a low moan. Her inner muscles clamped down on him,
squeezing his shaft, sending a flutter of sensation low into his balls.
Domenic stepped up beside them. His cock trembled as he held it in his broad hand. A bead of
liquid blossomed at its tip.
“Take me, my queen,” he said softly. “Let me share in your bliss.”
She swallowed hard, eyeing the greedy throbbing of Domenic’s phallus. Blue veins ridged the
surface of the solid cock. The tip was flushed and engorged, in desperate need of her lips.
“Do as he asks,” Kirel said as another shiver of sensation traveled through him.
Nelina nodded. She parted her lips and Domenic’s cock slid through the softness of her mouth to
settle on her tongue.
Thor walked up behind her, still stroking lubricant over his shaft. He knelt on the pillows Kirel
had stacked and parted her ass cheeks, rubbing his cock over the cleft between them.
She drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes. Kirel could see the brief flash of pain etched upon
her features and could only surmise that Thor’s shaft had begun to stretch her tight sphincter, pushing
its way inside her body.
They had her in their grip now. The king’s men pushed their way inside her in slow, easy motions
and she was powerless to stop them. The Fates had to be pleased, Kirel thought bitterly. All the
Guardians had played their roles to perfection, doing their part in making Nelina submit and succumb
to their demands.
Except those demands had never been made by the Guardians at all. They’d come from the
Tradition itself, which had played them all like so many instruments to be strummed.
Nelina’s eyelashes fluttered. She leaned forward over Kirel’s chest, guiding Domenic into a
kneeling position as Thor began to pump inside her in earnest. Kirel could feel the man’s cock with
every slick thrust sliding alongside his own. Only a small barrier of flesh kept them apart and each
thick stroke sent a jolt of pleasure to slam into Kirel’s sac.
A sheen of sweat broke out over Nelina’s breasts. Kirel reached up and cupped the firm mounds,
feeling their weight settle in his palms. He pulled on her nipples, twisting them between thumb and
forefinger.
She groaned around Domenic’s cock. Dom’s stomach rippled as the thrumming sensation of her
moan traveled through him.
Though she couldn’t give voice to her needs and desires, Kirel watched her body and responded
to its every trembling twitch. He caressed her breasts, tweaked her nipples, and when she began to
grind down against his pubic bone, he trailed his hand over her flat stomach and slid his fingertip into
the crevice at the top of her slit.
His other hand grabbed her buttock, meeting Thor’s fingers there. A moment’s worth of anger
swept through him. Nelina wouldn’t be here if not for him. The fury disappeared just as easily as it
had come though, when Thor wrapped his fingers around Kirel’s and squeezed.
He swallowed back the bitter agony that had lodged in his throat. Just like him, Thor had only
been doing what the Tradition demanded of him. Neither one of them was free to do as they pleased.
Perhaps if Thor had had a choice in the matter, he wouldn’t have pursued Nelina with such single-
minded tenacity. Or perhaps he would have. Kirel would never know, but he contented himself with
the assumption that Thor genuinely cared for him. That had to be enough. For now.
Thrusting greedily up into Nelina, Kirel banished all logical thought and allowed sensation to take
over. Her pussy clenched and relaxed against his rod. He couldn’t last much longer at this rate.
Judging by the hoarse moans echoing through the Temple, he knew the other Guardians were on the
brink as well.
But their groans weren’t the only ones filling the air. A thousand voices joined in, male and
female, adding their own raspy cries to the mix until the Temple was enveloped in an orchestra of
passion so real and exquisite that the sound of it began to unravel the tentative grip Kirel held on his
self-control.
He pressed the pad of his thumb against Nelina’s clit, rubbing it gently yet fiercely, wholly
focused on her pleasure. She peaked around his cock, her inner walls fluttering in ecstasy.
Thor came with a roar, the sound overtaking everyone else’s moans of pleasure. Kirel felt the
man’s seed burst inside Nelina’s ass and saw her throat bob as she swallowed down Domenic’s jet of
cum. For his part, Dom didn’t cry out but he clenched his fingers in Nelina’s hair and held his body
rigidly still while she took everything he offered.
Such was the carnal imagery around him when Kirel’s orgasm swept through every part of his
body. It began with a series of shattering spasms in his balls that quickly rushed into his cock. He
groaned with fulfillment, his shaft jetting streams of hot liquid inside Nelina’s channel.
Thor slipped out of her long before Kirel had finished. She released Dom’s cock and collapsed
atop Kirel’s chest, sobbing little mewling cries of ecstasy against his neck as he continued to shudder
inside her.
He clutched her to him, their sweat-slicked bodies sticking together as the drowsy aftershocks of
satisfaction poured through them both.
This is what it was all about, Kirel thought as her hot breath caressed his neck. Absolute
possession. Absolute trust.
And total, insuppressible love.
From somewhere beyond his immediate vicinity came the soft scruff of bare feet on wood. Kirel
closed his eyes and tightened his grip on Nelina. Someone was coming to snatch her away from him.
He should have been used to it by now, he supposed. It had happened often enough in the past.
He refused to look up even when the sound of shuffling footsteps came to a stop. A whoosh of air
slid against his cheek and something landed beside him on the pillow, the edge of it touching his face.
He cracked one eye open to peer at the back of a Tradition card. A groan lodged in his throat.
He’d seen the blasted things in the seer’s hands countless times as she dealt fate to the unsuspecting as
though it were a gift from above and not the all-encompassing curse it actually was.
“What’s this?” His voice sounded rough, as though he hadn’t used it in far too long.
“Your destiny.”
Kirel’s lip curled. He was so damn tired of playing the Tradition’s games. Loathe to release his
hold on Nelina, he reached around her and grabbed the card. Without looking at it, he gripped it
between the thumb and index finger of both hands and ripped it in two, scattering the torn pieces on
either side of him.
“Anything else you’ve got for me?” Sarcasm practically dripped from his tongue. Nelina sighed
deeply and lifted her head. Her golden crown had fallen over the tip of one eyebrow and hung
crookedly on her forehead.
She’d never looked more beautiful.
The peal of thunder that filled the cavern made the walls and the ground shake. Stalactites
shuddered and clinked against one another, sending a tumultuous crystalline reverberation through the
Temple.
“Stand up.” It was Shivar’s voice this time, forceful and commanding.
Kirel pressed his lips together. As much as he wanted to just lie here with Nelina in his arms
forever, he knew he couldn’t refuse his king.
Shivar had come to claim his mate.
“It’s all right, Nel,” Kirel murmured.
She looked deep into his eyes as her own filled with tears. After a moment, she nodded and rose.
Kirel did the same, a little unsteadily. His limbs quivered with tension. Arching his back, he
stretched out his muscles by reaching up toward the ceiling. Refusing to look at Shivar as he gathered
Nelina to him, Kirel forced his attention on Thor and Domenic, who stood together at the edge of the
dais.
It was then that he realized they each held a Tradition card.
Kirel sprang forward and grabbed the cards from the men’s hands, turning them over. They were
blank on the inside. On the back, the symbol of the three moons glowed with a faint shimmer.
Straining with the effort of forcing himself to take a deliberate step toward Vida rather than
rushing her with the fury of a battering ram, Kirel willed his hammering heartbeat to slow.
This was different from any tale of a mating ceremony he’d ever heard of. Something was
happening. Whatever it was, he wanted no part of it.
“Think carefully before you deny your destiny,” the seer said, her quiet voice carrying through the
Temple.
A hush so deep had fallen over the crowd that Kirel could have easily forgotten they were there.
Only the strong, pungent scent of spilled seed reminded him of the audience who watched his every
move.
Vida pointed toward the floor. Reluctantly, Kirel followed the direction in which she signaled and
watched in fascinated horror as a shape shimmied from the torn upper half of the card he’d carelessly
tossed aside.
Almost translucent, the form was still clearly distinguishable as the silhouette of a man. He could
even make out facial features. A prominent nose, high cheekbones, dark hair curling around his ears
and the back of his neck. On his head sat a golden crown.
And then the semitransparent form looked straight at him and Kirel found himself gazing into his
own mirror image.
“What… How…?”
A shadow descended upon him, bringing with it a heavy weight that settled on his brow. He
whirled around, hand already going for the place where he always kept his weapon only to brush
against bare flesh.
Shivar’s smile was kind, fatherly almost. He ran a hand through his hair and Kirel instinctively
glanced up at the heavy crown that perched awkwardly on his own head.
 “What is this?” he said, pleased to be able to form a proper sentence this time.
Shivar clapped his hands twice, calling for the attention of those assembled. As though anyone
could have looked away with such a spectacle unfolding.
Bewildered, Kirel watched as Shivar took Nelina’s hand. Now this was more like it, he thought
as the familiar pain lanced through his chest. This he could understand.
“The mating ceremony you’ve witnessed tonight was indeed the glorious rite of passage for a
queen ready to take her place at her king’s side,” Shivar said.
Nelina averted her gaze. Gone was the confidence she’d shown when she’d walked into the
Temple. Now she simply looked vulnerable, as though events unfolding around her had caught her in
their tumultuous storm, leaving her mussed and disheveled.
A slick trail of cum dripped from her velvety folds to slide down her inner thigh. Kirel’s cock
stirred and he had to force himself to stifle a moan.
“But it is not I who will be escorting our lovely new queen through the final Trial.” A gasp rose
from the crowd. Shivar lifted a hand, calling for silence. “Aris is being ushered into a new era. I’ve
led our people to the best of my ability but new ideas are needed. The Tradition has called for a new
way of thinking, for a leader who can stand against the Fates themselves if that’s what it takes to bring
prosperity and peace upon our planet.”
Understanding dawned like a flash of lightning. Kirel rushed forward to stand at Shivar’s side. He
grabbed the man’s shoulder, turning him so he could look into his eyes.
“I don’t want this,” he growled low under his breath. “I never asked for this.”
“Don’t you see?” Vida said softly, coming up behind Shivar. She laid a hand on the king, swirling
her thumb over the spot where his shoulder met his neck in a shockingly intimate gesture. With that
one simple touch, she’d claimed her mate. Her face radiated joy. Despite all that had happened, the
sight of their happiness filled Kirel with hope. “That’s exactly why it must be you.”
“I can’t rule,” Kirel protested. “I know nothing about affairs of state.”
Shivar’s eyes darkened. A sliver of something that looked like melancholic pity shimmered across
the surface of his gaze, like a cloud drifting across the brilliant moon. It disappeared in an instant,
bringing a smile in its wake. “You’ll be fine. You know enough from having been at my side for eight
years. As for the rest, the Council will guide you. That’s their duty. Just as yours is now to watch over
Aris and ensure that peace continues to reign supreme, despite the constant conflict threatening to
engulf us.”
“And you?” Kirel swallowed past the lump that rose in his throat. “What will you do?”
For the first time, Shivar’s smile turned into a full-fledged, radiant grin. He slid his arm around
Vida’s waist and pulled her to him as a startled gasp went up from the crowd. “I’m going to do what
I’ve wanted to do for years. Make no mistake, Kirel. We’re all ruled by the Fates, but duty eventually
comes to an end. I’m free now, able to take this woman as my mate.”
Vida’s lower lip trembled slightly. In all the time he’d known her, Kirel couldn’t remember ever
seeing her at a loss for words.
“You’ll need a new seer,” Shivar said. “Vida will help you with that task. Afterward, though, I
don’t expect you’ll be seeing much of her.”
Vida giggled like a schoolgirl, drawing another rumbling from those assembled.
“If you’re going to tie me to the bed,” she said, “I expect to be hand-fed.”
 Shivar wiggled his brows. “Without a doubt. And bathed of course. If you’re really good, I’ll
even—”
He leaned over and whispered something in her ear. Vida gasped, turning as red as Maewyn’s
moon.
Kirel shook his head, trying to make sense of everything going on around him. As though taking
advantage of Kirel’s bewilderment, Shivar took a step back. Grabbing Kirel’s hand before he could
protest, he slid Nelina’s smaller palm in his.
For a moment, the planet tilted on its axis as sudden comprehension struck. As king, Nelina was to
be his. She was his gift…his sensual, lush, passionate—
“No.” The word was barely recognizable to his own ears as coming from his throat.
He released her hand and put a safe distance between them. He couldn’t trust himself to speak,
much less not to gather her into his arms and fuck her senseless again and again and again in front of
anyone who cared to watch. Every nerve in his body screamed at him to take her, to possess her
wholly in front of the Tradition and the entire world, but a nagging sensation held him back.
It was that small bit of common sense that managed to break through the turmoil and make itself
heard.
Nelina’s lashes fell downward, hiding her eyes. He thought he saw a glimmer of a tear, one she
quickly swept away. When she opened them, the icy demeanor had returned and she fixed him with a
haughty glance that could bend steel.
“Of course not.” She grinned, the forced smile lifting her perfect cheekbones but not reaching her
eyes. “Why would you want me now? I was only fun to have when I wasn’t yours.”
Kirel shook his head. Her words seemed to reach inside his chest and squeeze. The breath snaked
out of his lungs on a shuddering sigh.
He fell on one knee, the wooden dais making harsh contact with his kneecap and sending a sliver
of pain up his thigh. “I’m not very good at this,” he admitted. He searched out her gaze and held it. “I
don’t want to take you because you’ve been given to me like so much property for a deed well done. I
want you by my side for all eternity for one reason and one reason only.”
The icy glare melted. Nelina closed the distance between them but didn’t reach out to him.
“What’s that?”
“Because I love you. Damn it, Nel, I love you. Do you want to hear it again? I love you!”
His voice boomed off the sides of the Temple, echoing off the walls, thundering through the
chamber. The stalactites quivered. He didn’t care if he brought the whole damn place down on their
heads if it meant she finally got it through that thick skull of hers that he absolutely, undeniably, adored
her.
A shaky smile blossomed on her full lips. A real one this time. When the next tear slid down her
cheek, she didn’t try to brush it away.
“What do you say, Nel? Will you be my queen? My mate…for now until the end of time?”
 Chapter Eleven

Nelina made a show of thinking about it, the way Kirel used to do all those years ago. She pursed
her lips and raised her gaze toward the ceiling, contemplating a fair length of time to keep him in
suspense.
Thus preoccupied, she didn’t even see him move. She simply felt him careen into her abdomen
with his shoulder and lift her so that a moment later she hung suspended in midair, her ass thrust
upward, her head hanging so low over his back that she could reach out with the tip of her tongue and
lick the hollowed dimple at the base of his spine.
Her crown clattered to the ground.
“Yes!” she cried out, barely able to contain a joyous laugh. “Gods, Kirel, I was getting to that!”
The chuckles that rang out from the audience shattered the last of the remaining tension in the
Temple. Kirel carried her toward a fresh pillow in the center of the dais and placed her there with so
much care and reverence, it caused a new wave of tears to blossom behind her eyelids. She blinked
them back, feeling foolish. The grin spreading over her face stretched her cheeks, sending a pleasant
ache into muscles that hadn’t been used with such unabashed joy in much too long.
She looked up in time to see the gauzy strips of material bordering the platform being drawn. They
fell closed in rippling waves around them, sealing them in a private enclosure away from prying eyes.
Oh she knew that if those assembled cared to continue watching, they could. She could still see
the council members or rather shadowy shapes of them through the fabric. But the impression of
privacy was so complete, she didn’t care who stayed behind to find pleasure in their joining.
Vida had said the Trial of Release wasn’t a test at all. It was a union of two souls who learned to
find pleasure in one another. For her and Kirel, there was no doubt this would be a Trial they could
easily pass. She’d never known another man who could bring her to the pinnacle of ecstasy with
nothing more than a simple well-placed kiss.
Kirel pressed his face against the skin of her belly and caressed her navel with his lips. The
sensation sent a shudder of pure pleasure down her spine.
“You forgive me then?” he asked, so softly for a moment she thought she’d imagined it.
“For abandoning me?” Nelina threaded her fingers in his hair. He ducked his head, not meeting
her eyes. “You had no choice. As a child of Aris, one meant for greatness, there wasn’t anything else
you could have done.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Of course you were. You didn’t know it but your heart did. You love this planet more than anyone
else. You’d have given up everything to stay behind and ensure your king’s wellbeing and the
continued prosperity of our people. How could I fault you for that when those same traits will make
you such a great king?”
He lifted his face then and gave her one of those crooked grins she used to recall in her dreams. It
made his face look boyishly charming and she couldn’t resist reaching out to touch his cheek.
 “I love you,” she said, meaning it. After all this time, she’d thought she knew what it meant to
love, but she hadn’t—not really. Not until that moment when she looked into his dark eyes and saw
her future reflected there.
A future no one could take away from them.
“Why didn’t you just say so?” She caught the teasing note in his voice as he echoed words she’d
once said to him.
She laughed, the sound drifting languidly up through their intimate enclosure. “Because I didn’t
want you to know. I thought… I thought if you did, it would give you too much power over me. I
worried my broken heart couldn’t take it.”
He moved with quiet grace to hover over her. Sliding one knee between her thighs, he parted her
legs. She opened to him without protest, her pussy already thrumming with renewed arousal.
“And now?” he said, sliding his cock into her fluttering channel.
She sighed and wrapped her arms around him. Drawing him close, she matched his rhythm as he
began to move inside her.
“Now…I’m no longer worried about you breaking my heart. Because if you do…” She raised a
shoulder nonchalantly and lifted her gaze skyward where the faces of the Fates were silhouetted
against the shadowy precipice of the vaulted ceiling. Nelina thought she could almost make out smug
smiles as they watched the union unfold. “You’ll have to answer to them.”
 About the Author

Award-winning author Lacey Savage loves to write about her dreams—or more specifically, she
loves to breathe life into her steamy fantasies (and she’s got plenty!). She pens erotic tales of true
love and mythical destiny, peopled with strong alpha heroes and feisty heroines. A hopeless romantic,
Lacey loves writing about the intimate, sensual side of relationships. She currently resides in Ottawa,
Canada, with her loving husband and the mischievous cat.

Lacey welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her
author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

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 Also by Lacey Savage

Fighting Chance
Wed and Wanton
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